But Theseus answered, “The man who stretches his guests upon a bed and hews off their hands and feet, what shall be done to him, when right is done throughout the land?”
Then the countenance of Procrustes changed, and his cheeks grew as green as a lizard, and he felt for his sword in haste. But Theseus leaped on him, and cried:—
“Is this true, my host, or is it false?” and he clasped Procrustes around waist and elbow, so that he could not draw his sword.
“Is this true, my host, or is it false?” But Procrustes answered never a word.
Then Theseus flung him from him, and lifted up his dreadful club; and before Procrustes could strike him, he had struck and felled him to the ground. And once again he struck him; and his evil soul fled forth, and went down into the depths squeaking, like a bat into the darkness of a cave.
Then Theseus stripped him of his gold ornaments, and went up to his house, and found there great wealth and treasure, which he had stolen from the passers-by. And he called the people of the country, whom Procrustes had spoiled a long time, and divided the treasure among them, and went down the mountains, and away.
CHINOOK
Mildly through the mists of night
Floats a breath of flowers sweet,
Warmly through the waning light
Wafts a wind with perfumed feet,
Down the gorge and mountain brook,
With the sound of wings—Chinook!
By no trail his spirits go,
Through the mountain-passes high,
Where the moon is on the snow
And the screaming eagles fly,
Where the yawning canyon roars
With memories of misty shores.