196 THE WONDER-BOOK OF HORSES 



^thon and Galathe. Red as the glowing flame, 

 or as the sunset clouds, was ^thon; yellow as 

 the buttercups that bespangle the meadows, was 

 Galathe; swift as birds on the wing, and tireless 

 as eagles, were they both. They had been reared 

 in the rich pasture-lands of Lycia, some say by 

 Apollo, the archer-god, and had been chosen by 

 their master for their beauty and strength. For 

 ten years they had been fed in the king's own 

 stalls and cared for by the hands of Hector him- 

 self, and among all the horses of Troy there were 

 none to be compared with them. 



From noon till evening on that eventful day, 

 ever in the thickest of the fight, they had drawn 

 their master's chariot without fear or weariness ; 

 and when at length the darkness had put an end 

 to the dreadful combat, it was with high heads 

 and tossing manes that they betook themselves to 

 the camp of the victorious Trojans. They knew 

 that behind them rode the hero of the day, and 

 at his feet lay the armor which he had stripped 

 from Patroclus — the matchless armor which the 

 gods had given to old Peleus. From out of the 

 melee of battle they had come unscathed by any 

 wound, and as fresh as when the grooms had led 

 them from their stalls. All through that night 



