"Zeus! At times I am angry, even at the Gods. Atlas did faithfully support his master. Yet Zeus has rewarded him with an unending toil! A fit mate for Atlas? I can think of only one, and that one who would resist such wedded bliss."
"You know of one! Her name, Mother, and I will find her!"
"You are eager, but beware. She has been courted by many, won by none. Her name is Atalanta. Huntress, runner, wrestler - skilled in arts of man and of woman. Yes, you might well search for Atalanta."
He was committed. Find Atalanta, woo her for Atlas, arrange the nuptials - and convince Zeus that he had fulfilled his task.
Little details must be worked out. A plan of action developed. A purported weakness of Atalanta - a love for golden apples - might well be exploited. Vulcan agreed to fashion these in his shop, and with his usual skill fashioned them in exquisite form.
Demo looked at them and was so enticed that he had a mind to keep them. Wisdom prevailed, and merely placed them in his pouch.
He inquired widely of those who might know, searched widely for the land wherein she dwelt. In due time he was rewarded. And finally he reached the very village she called home.
The dwellings were scattered, separated by green meadows and forest. Each small domicile resembled in its own way the home where he lived with his Mother.
But he did not find her in one of these.
They met in the square of the little village. He was astonished. With her reputation for physical superiority he expected - well, it doesn't matter.