by Joe Corcoran
Hercules, grinning at his friend. Iolaus was a little pale, having a better idea of his own limits after his encounter with the centaurs, but he swallowed and nodded, even managing a little smile of his own. Then the friends started forward, Iolaus leading the hind and chariot, which clinked and clanked as it bounced over the rough ground.
The boar was confused when he saw this odd trio approaching. Usually people ran away from it, or tried to creep up and surprise it. These three were just walking up, as if they were out for a stroll. Should he charge them? Should he stay? In the end, he decided that it was better to be safe than sorry, so he turned and ran off, hiding in a thicket of trees, where he was sure the strangers couldn’t reach him. This was just as Hercules and Iolaus had planned. They positioned themselves carefully on one side of the thicket then, at a signal from Iolaus, they let loose their secret weapon. Iolaus banged his spear on his shield - crash, crash, crash. Hercules shouted at the top of his voice. Even the hind joined in, bellowing loudly and stamping her hooves on the ground. The din was tremendous, and it was certainly enough to frighten the boar half out of its wits. The fearsome beast panicked and raced out of the other side of the thicket … straight into a deep snowdrift. Just for a few moments it struggled to break through the drift, but this was more than enough time for Hercules. He jumped on the animal’s back, pinning it to the ground as it roared and struggled to reach him with its tusks. Iolaus now unloaded the clanking cargo from the chariot - lengths and lengths of strong chain, which he used to wrap the boar up tight. When he had finished, the beast was so well wrapped that it could not move a muscle. Only its eyes, swiveling in their sockets, showed that it was still alive.
Not wanting to leave any animal, however ferocious, tied up like that for long, Hercules and Iolaus loaded the animal onto the chariot and headed back to Troezen as quickly as they could. The hind pulled them with supernatural speed, despite the heavy load, and the wind whistled round Iolaus’ ears, chilling them to the point where they felt like they would snap off. Even so, they pressed on all through the night and arrived back at the city in the morning, where one of the gate guards went off to fetch the king. When Pittheus strode out onto the plain beyond the city gates and saw the boar, he was horrified. Because it wasn’t moving he thought that it was dead and that Hercules had failed the challenge. He ran forward and started to loosen the chains, but as soon as it felt its bonds slacken the animal showed its real power. It jumped to its feet, knocking the king flat, and would have been away if Hercules had not been quick to dive on it again and hold it, while Iolaus refastened the chains.
Satisfied that Hercules had indeed completed the challenge, Pittheus was now faced with another problem. His experience had shown that there was no way he could let this beast roam freely, as had been his original plan, but it was cruel to leave it chained. First he had it put in a field with a strong fence about it, but the boar knocked the fence down in only a few minutes. Then he had it put in a cage, which was better than the chains but still did not allow it any room to run about. Finally Hercules solved the problem. Working with the city engineers, he drained the moat around the palace. They reinforced the walls and planted trees and bushes at the bottom, to make a suitable habitat. When all was ready, the boar’s cage was lowered down into the moat and the door opened with a long pole. Immediately the creature rushed out and, having been confined for so long, ran around the moat a hundred times in its joy to be free. In only a few short days it became a favourite of the citizens. They came to see it playing in its new home, and many brought it gifts. Soon the boar became the mascot of the city, and to this day the palace guard have a picture of a boar painted on their shields.
The Fifth Challenge: The Stables of Augeias
The next challenge came not from Zeus, or even from Pittheus, but from a simple farmer. Hercules was enjoying a few days of rest. It was not so long since his capture of the Erymanthian Boar, and he was not too worried about the passing of time, as he still had several months in which to complete the remaining challenges. In a few more days he would probably have become restless and impatient, but for the moment he was content to enjoy this rare time of leisure. Having spent a good deal of time in the baths, he had decided that it would be a good day to go hunting and had risen early, setting out with the first light of dawn. True, many animals would be hibernating during the winter, but he was confident of his skill, and, at worst, he would have a chance to explore more of the countryside around Troezen. Now, however, he was beginning to have second thoughts. It was already afternoon, and despite walking to the very edges of Pittheus’ kingdom, he had not seen a single animal worthy of his arrows. The woods seemed unnaturally still and quiet, his own footsteps sounding loudly in the still, cold winter air. Beginning to sense that the day would not be a success, Hercules was about to turn for home when a change in the wind brought a terrible smell washing through the woods. Surely, thought the hero, this could not be natural. Maybe there was a monster to fight. It was certainly worth the time to investigate, so following his nose he set off to find out the source of this foul stench.
Hercules had not gone far when he came across a man gathering wood. The man looked thin and hungry, and his clothes were threadbare and patched. Nevertheless, he seemed honest, and he called out a friendly greeting when he saw Hercules.
“Good day to you,” called Hercules in return, “I am trying to find out where that stench is coming from, do you know anything about it?”
“Stench?” asked the man, looking confused, then he seemed to remember, “Oh, that stench! You see, we get so used to it round here that we don’t notice it anymore, but now you mention it, the smell is particularly bad today.”
“But what is the cause?” asked Hercules, puzzled that the man was so unconcerned by the revolting smell, “Is there some hideous monster? Maybe an entrance to the Underworld spewing fumes from the fires of Hades himself?”
To his surprise, the man laughed at this, “No monster or Underworld,” he laughed, “just the dung from the cattle of the world’s richest man!”
Now, Hercules could not believe this, and he said so. He had been around cattle all his life, but he had never smelt anything like this. So the man took him to see for himself what was causing the stench, and although Hercules saw with his own eyes, it took a while before he really believed what he was seeing.
“My king, Augeias, may be the richest man in the world, but he is too mean to pay anyone to clear away the dung of his cattle, so it just builds up in the fields,” said the man.
They had come to a wall that marked the edge of the cattle’s grazing land. Inside the wall the field was carpeted in cow pats, maybe even two or three deep, and the cattle they could see were wading around in their own filth. The smell was so bad now that it curled Hercules’ nose hairs.
“You think this is bad,” said the man, seeing the look on Hercules’ face, “you should see the stables.” Then he looked suddenly serious, “I’m afraid it’s more than a joke for those of us who live here. I used to be a farmer, but the land is so polluted now that I can’t make anything grow. Those cattle are blessed, if you can call it a blessing, they never suffer from sickness or disease, despite the terrible conditions. Things can only get worse, and then we’ll all starve.”
Hercules returned to Troezen deep in thought, and when he arrived at the palace he went straight to see Pittheus to ask if this could be his next challenge. The king heard Hercules’ plan and agreed without any hesitation. It was a noble act, to rid the people of this foul pollution and to teach a thoughtless king the error of his ways. The only problem was that Iolaus had gone on a trip of his own and would not return for several days, but Hercules decided that the challenge could not wait. He readied himself for an early start the next morning and dreamt of the impossible task he must accomplish.
The next day Hercules headed back to the borders of Pittheus’ kingdom. This time he moved with a purpose, running all the way and arriving at the stinking fields even before the su
n had burnt the morning mist from the ground. Seeing once more the terrible state of the fields made Hercules itch to go and confront Augeias, maybe he would just beat some sense into this cruel king. However, that was not the plan he had agreed with Pittheus, and so he kept out of sight and started to make a careful survey of the land. The philosopher king had called it reconnaissance. To Hercules it felt a lot like spying … or maybe it was like stalking a dangerous beast.
With this thought in mind Hercules warmed to his task, feeling the excitement of the hunt running through him. Every time his concentration or patience threatened to fail, he would once again imagine that he was tracking a fearsome enemy and that the least failure in his preparation would lead to defeat. In this way he gathered all the details he would need the following morning for his planned confrontation with the thoughtless king. That evening, tired from a good day’s work, Hercules settled down to sleep.
Of course, being a man of action, Hercules had not been satisfied with just looking. He had moved some rocks here, dug a little channel there, weakened a wall or two and even stacked some
