Argos by Ralph Hardy Page B

he faces the wrath of Poseidon. Pray to yourgods for fast winds. That is all you or anyone can do.”
    Then the bat unfolds its wings and flies out of the cave, darting right and left, up and down, as is their way, until he is swallowed by the darkness completely.

CHAPTER XVII
A trap is laid
    T here is a cleft between two ridges on the south side of Ithaka where a small berry shrub grows. The berries that grow on it are plump and bloodred, oozing sweet, sticky juice, but even the insects avoid it. I have heard the birds warn one another that the berries are poisonous; to eat just a drop of their red juice means agonizing death. I am going to find it.
    I travel at night, while the flocks are safe in their barns, following the deer trails that bisect the island. Selene, goddess of the full moon, guides me deep into the valleys, lighting the path for me.
    â€œWhat do you seek in this valley, Argos the Boar Slayer?” a hedgehog asks, emerging from the underbrush, when I find myself lost.
    I tell him what I seek.
    The hedgehog nods once and then stares at me, unblinking, from beneath a tree root for a few moments. “Pick me up,” he says. “I will take you to it.”
    He curls up and I take him gently in my mouth, avoiding his barbs, and follow his directions until he says we have arrived. Then I set him down, and he uncurls and stretches his spiny back.
    â€œThere is the bush you seek, Boar Slayer. The stem is safe to put in your mouth, but do not let your tongue touch the berries or lap their juice. If you do, I have heard that goat’s milk will ease the poison, but you must drink it soon after, or you will die.”
    â€œThank you, Brother Hedgehog,” I say. “Good hunting to you.”
    â€œI thank you. Where is your master, Odysseus? Does he return soon?” he asks.
    â€œI have heard that he sails back to Aiaia, but he will return home soon if the gods are willing.”
    The hedgehog nods. “Few men return from that island, I think, loyal one. But if any man should, it will be your master.”
    Then he waddles off to hunt for an ant mound. I don’t dwell on his dispiriting words about Circe, for I have to return to thefarm. I circle the bush and find the stem with the most berries on it. Placing the stem between my jaws, I bite through it and twist it off, careful not to break any of the berries. Then, with the stem firmly in my jaws, I turn around and retrace my steps home. Selene casts her silver light in front of me, and I return to my master’s land just before she sinks beneath the hills.
    Noble Telemachos has left the leg bone of an ox near my bed and I crack it open, digging out the marrow with my teeth. I need to draw strength from that bone, the strength of an ox, for tomorrow night I may be fighting mountain wolves. I gnaw it for an hour, sharpening my teeth to fine points. Then I rest until I hear the dull bleat of a sheep. It’s time to take them to the fields.
    I bury the stem of berries to keep the goats from eating it—they will eat anything—and trot down to the sheep stall. A shepherd boy is there, and he unties the gate. The sheep come streaming out, and I lead them to a fine, grassy hill where, from the crest, I can watch them easily. All day long while they eat their grass, I rest and rehearse my plan.
    The suitors arrive in midafternoon, but this day I don’t growl at them as they approach the house. I remain high above on the hilltop, watching. Only my eyes move. Later, I see Telemachos leave the house and take the path that leads down to theharbor. He whistles for me, but for once, I don’t run to him. He whistles again.
    Oh, the sting of that whistle! Menfolk will never know how a simple whistle from their master cuts into a dog’s heart. It is born into us. We freeze! We listen! Our hearts race! Our tails wag! Every instinct I have told me to run to him; he would praise me, rub my back, and scratch my ears. Some dogs