The rowers worked as hard and as steadily as they could, and after a while they were out of reach of the terrible feathers.
The strange part of it all was that they never could find one of those sharp-pointed arrows with which the birds had shot them.
When the sun came out they were in a safe harbor. They looked and looked, but not a feather was to be found. One man declared that he knew the feathers were white.
"But the birds were black," said all the rest. "How could the arrows be white when even the sun was darkened by the black-winged creatures?"
How the dispute was settled I do not know, for the sharp-pointed feathers had melted all away, like hailstones from dark storm-clouds. It is certain, however, that the men never found any of the arrows with which they had been shot.
[WHY THE PARTRIDGE STAYS NEAR THE GROUND]
Greek
Daedalus was a skillful workman in many ways. One of the first things he did to make himself famous was to build a maze. It had so many winding walks and crooked paths that anyone who walked in ten steps without a guide never could get out unaided.
He built this maze for his king, but before many years he offended the king in some way and was locked up in a high tower. In the roof of the tower were hundreds of doves, and as they flew back and forth, Daedalus said:
"My king rules the land and the sea, but not the air. I will try that way of escape."