The Garden of Pluto endures - today, tomorrow, forever!
1. Beginning
"Demo, Listen!" Petulant anger was in her voice.
"He's chasing the chickens again! You really must do something about that dog. Hurry, now, before he catches one." His mother's usually calm mien had disappeared. She had raised a fine flock of chickens and was proud of every one. To her chagrin, Rough had acquired a taste for chickens.
"Rough, leave them be! Come here!"
The dog at first wagged its tail, then let it droop between its legs as it noted the tone of voice. Slowly it approached, its head hung low, expectant of punishment.
"Rough, I am the greatest hunter in the village. No, I am the greatest hunter in the whole of Greece. None but I can draw this bow. None but I can hit the mark, time after time. None can shoot an arrow for such a distance!"
His mother smiled. Only 17, yet with the assurance of youth, he boasted of his skill. Well might he do so. For years his bow and arrows had fed them well. Today he would foray in search of deer.
"And you! All you can hunt is chickens! Well, you are growing.
Soon I'll take you with me on the hunt. And we'll hunt deer, and
bear, and . . . Well, anyway, not chickens. You hear me, pup?"
Demo rubbed its head with both hands, patted the animal.
Rough licked his palm, followed him into the house, tail wagging.