But Cheiron smiled, and drew the lad to him, and laid his hand upon his golden locks, and said, "Are you afraid of my horse's hoofs, fair boy, or will you be my pupil from this day?"
"I would gladly have horse's hoofs like you, if I could sing such songs as yours," said the lad.
And Cheiron laughed and said, "Sit here till sundown, when your playfellows will come home, and you shall learn like them to be a king, worthy to rule over gallant men."
Then he turned to Æson, who had followed his son into the cave, and said, "Go back in peace. This boy shall not cross the river again till he has become a glory to you and to your house."
And Æson wept over his son and went away, but the boy did not weep, so full was his fancy of that strange cave, and the Centaur and his song, and the playfellows whom he was to see.
Then Cheiron put the lyre into his hands, and taught him how to play it, till the sun sank low behind the cliff, and a shout was heard outside.
And then in came the sons of the heroes, and great Cheiron leapt up joyfully, and his hoofs made the cave resound as the lads shouted, "Come out, Father Cheiron, and see our game!"
One cried, "I have killed two deer," and another, "I took a wild cat among the crags," and another shouted, "I have dragged a wild goat by its horns," and another carried under each arm a bear-cub. And Cheiron praised them all, each as he deserved.
Then the lads brought in wood and split it, and lighted a blazing fire. Others skinned the deer and quartered them, and set them to roast before the flames.