Georg Ebers - Premium Collection: Historical Novels, Stories & Autobiography. Georg Ebers
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now on his way to the Arabians to secure their assistance; in hopes that these sons of the desert may furnish our army with water and guides through their dry and thirsty land. He will also endeavor to win the rich island of Cyprus, which he once conquered for Amasis, over to our side. As it was through his mediation that the kings of the island were allowed to retain their crowns, they will be willing to listen to his advice. In short the Athenian leaves nothing uncared for, and knows every road and path as if he were the sun himself He showed us a picture of the world on a plate of copper.”
Oroetes nodded and said, “I have such a picture of the world too. A Milesian named Hekataeus, who spends his life in travelling, drew it, and gave it me in exchange for a free-pass.”
[Hekataeus of Miletus maybe called “the father of geography,” as
Herodotus was “the father of history.” He improved the map made by
Anaximander, and his great work, “the journey round the world,” was
much prized by the ancients; but unfortunately, with the exception
of some very small fragments, has now perished. Herodotus assures
us, (V. 36.) that Hekataeus was intimately acquainted with every
part of the Persian empire, and had also travelled over Egypt. he
lived at the date of our narrative, having been born at Miletus 550
B. C. He lived to see the fall of his native city in 4966 B. C.
His map has been restored by Klausen and can be seen also in Mure’s
Lan. and Lit. of Ancient Greece. Vol. IV. Maps existed, however,
much earlier, the earliest known being one of the gold-mines, drawn
very cleverly by an Egyptian priest, and so well sketched as to give
a pretty clear idea of the part of the country intended. It is
preserved in the Egyptian Museum at Turin.]
“What notions these Greeks have in their heads!” exclaimed Zopyrus, who could not explain to himself what a picture of the world could look like.
“To-morrow I will show you my copper tablet, said Oroetes, but now we must allow Darius to go on.”
“So Phanes has gone to Arabia,” continued Darius, “and Prexaspes was sent hither not only to command you, Oroetes, to raise as many forces as possible, especially Ionians and Carians, of whom Phanes has offered to undertake the command, but also to propose terms of alliance to Polykrates.”
“To that pirate!” asked Oroetes, and his face darkened.
“The very same,” answered Prexaspes, not appearing to notice the change in Oroetes’ face. “Phanes has already received assurances from this important naval power, which sound as if we might expect a favorable answer to my proposal.”
“The Phoenician, Syrian and Ionian ships of war would be quite sufficient to cope with the Egyptian fleet.”
“There you are right; but if Polykrates were to declare against us, we should not be able to hold our own at sea; you say yourself that he is all-powerful in the AEgean.”
“Still I decidedly disapprove of entering into treaty with such a robber.”
“We want powerful allies, and Polykrates is very powerful at sea. It will be time to humble him, when we have used him to help us in conquering Egypt. For the present I entreat you to suppress all personal feeling, and keep the success of our great plan alone in view. I am empowered to say this in the king’s name, and to show his ring in token thereof.”
Oroetes made a brief obeisance before this symbol of despotism, and asked: “What does Cambyses wish me to do?”
“He commands you to use every means in your power to secure an alliance with the Samian; and also to send your troops to join the main army on the plains of Babylon as soon as possible.”
The satrap bowed and left the room with a look betraying irritation and defiance.
When the echo of his footsteps had died away among the colonnades of the inner court, Zopyrus exclaimed: “Poor fellow, it’s really very hard for him to have to meet that proud man, who has so often behaved insolently to him, on friendly terms. Think of that story about the physician for instance.”
“You are too lenient,” interrupted Darius. “I don’t like this Oroetes. He has no right to receive the king’s commands in that way. Didn’t you see him bite his lips till they bled, when Prexaspes showed him the king’s ring?”
“Yes,” cried the envoy, “he’s a defiant, perverse man. He left the room so quickly, only because he could not keep down his anger any longer.”
“Still,” said Bartja, “I hope you will keep his conduct a secret from my brother, for he has been very good to me.”
Prexaspes bowed, but Darius said: “We must keep an eye on the fellow. Just here, so far from the king’s gate and in the midst of nations hostile to Persia, we want governors who are more ready to obey their king than this Oroetes seems to be. Why, he seems to fancy he is King of Lydia!”
“Do you dislike the satrap?” said Zopyrus.
“Well, I think I do,” was the answer. “I always take an aversion or a fancy to people at first sight, and very seldom find reason to change my mind afterwards. I disliked Oroetes before I heard him speak a word, and I remember having the same feeling towards Psamtik, though Amasis took my fancy.”
“There’s no doubt that you’re very different from the rest of us,” said Zopyrus laughing, “but now, to please me, let this poor Oroetes alone. I’m glad he’s gone though, because we can talk more freely about home. How is Kassandane? and your worshipped Atossa? Croesus too, how is he? and what are my wives about? They’ll soon have a new companion. To-morrow I intend to sue for the hand of Oroetes’ pretty daughter. We’ve talked a good deal of love with our eyes already. I don’t know whether we spoke Persian or Syrian, but we said the most charming things to one another.”
The friends laughed, and Darius, joining in their merriment, said: “Now you shall hear a piece of very good news. I have kept it to the last, because it is the best I have. Now, Bartja, prick up your ears. Your mother, the noble Kassandane, has been cured of her blindness! Yes, yes, it is quite true.—Who cured her? Why who should it be, but that crabbed old Nebenchari, who has become, if possible, moodier than ever. Come, now, calm yourselves, and let me go on with my story; or it will be morning before Bartja gets to sleep. Indeed. I think we had better separate now: you’ve heard the best, and have something to dream about What, you will not? Then, in the name of Mithras, I must go on, though it should make my heart bleed.
“I’ll begin with the king. As long as Phanes was in Babylon, he seemed to forget his grief for Nitetis.
“The Athenian was never allowed to leave him. They were as inseparable as Reksch and Rustem. Cambyses had no time to think of his sorrow, for Phanes had always some new idea or other, and entertained us all, as well as the king, marvellously. And we all liked him too; perhaps, because no one could really envy him. Whenever he was alone, the tears came into his eyes at the thought of his boy, and this made his great cheerfulness—a cheerfulness which he always managed to impart to the king, Bartja,—the more admirable. Every morning he went down to the Euphrates with Cambyses and the rest of us, and enjoyed watching the sons of the Achaemenidae at their exercises. When he saw them riding at full speed past the sand-hills and shooting the pots placed on them into fragments with their arrows, or throwing blocks of wood at one another and cleverly evading the blows, he confessed that he could not imitate them in these exercises, but at the same time he offered to accept a challenge from any of us in throwing the spear and in wrestling. In his quick way he sprang from his horse, stripped off his clothes—it was really a shame—and, to the delight of the boys, threw their wrestling-master as if he had been a feather.
[In the East, nudity was, even in those days, held to be