nor did any dog bark. And luck-bringing Hermes, the son of Zeus, passed edgeways
 through the key-hole of the hall like the autumn breeze, even as mist: straight through the
 cave he went and came to the rich inner chamber, walking softly, and making no noise as one
 might upon the floor. Then glorious Hermes went hurriedly to his cradle, wrapping his swaddling clothes
 about his shoulders as though he were a feeble babe, and lay playing with the covering about
 his knees; but at his left hand he kept close his sweet lyre. But the god did not pass
 unseen by the goddess his mother; but she said to him: “How now, you rogue! Whence come you back so at night-time, you that wear
 shamelessness as a garment? And now I surely believe the son of Leto will soon have you
 forth out of doors with unbreakable cords about your ribs, or you will live a rogue's life
 in the glens robbing by whiles. Go to, then; your father got you to be a great worry to mortal men and deathless
 gods.” Then Hermes answered her with crafty words: “Mother, why do you seek to frighten me
 like a feeble child whose heart knows few words of blame, a fearful babe that fears its mother's scolding? Nay, but I will try whatever plan
 is best, and so feed myself and you continually. We will not be content to remain here, as
 you bid, alone of all the gods unfee'd with offerings and prayers. Better to live in fellowship with the deathless gods continually, rich, wealthy,
 and enjoying stores of grain, than to sit always in a gloomy cave: and, as regards honor, I
 too will enter upon the rite that Apollo has. If my father
 will not give it me, I will seek —and I am able —to be a prince of robbers. And if Leto's most glorious
 son shall seek me out, I think another and a greater loss will befall him. For I will go to
 Pytho to break into his great house, and will
 plunder therefrom splendid tripods, and cauldrons, and gold, and plenty of bright iron, and much apparel; and you shall see it if you
 will.” With such words they spoke together, the son of Zeus who holds the aegis, and the
 lady Maia. Now Eos the early born, bringing light to men, was rising from deep-flowing Ocean, when Apollo, as he went, came to Onchestus, the
 lovely grove and sacred place of the loud-roaring Holder of the Earth. There he found an old
 man grazing his beast along the pathway from his court-yard fence, and the all-glorious Son
 of Leto began and said to him. “Old man, weeder Lit .
 “thorn-plucker.” of grassy Onchestus, I am come here from Pieria seeking cattle, cows all of them, all with curving
 horns, from my herd. The black bull was grazing alone away from the rest, but fierce-eyed
 hounds followed the cows, four of them, all of one mind, like men. These were left behind, the dogs and the
 bull —which is a great marvel; but the cows strayed out of the soft meadow, away from the
 pasture when the sun was just going down. Now tell me this, old man born long ago: have you
 seen one passing along behind those cows?” Then the old man answered him and said: “My
 son, it is hard to tell all that one's eyes see; for many wayfarers pass to and fro this
 way, some bent on much evil, and some on good: it is difficult to know each one. However, I was digging about my plot of vineyard
 all day long until the sun went down, and I thought, good sir, but I do not know for
 certain, that I marked a child, whoever the child was, that followed long-horned cattle— an infant who had a staff and kept walking from side to side: he was driving them
 backwards way, with their heads towards him.” So said the old man. And when Apollo heard
 this report, he went yet more quickly on his way, and presently, seeing a long-winged bird,
 he knew at once by that omen that the thief was the child of Zeus the son of
 Cronos. So the lord Apollo, son of Zeus, hurried on to goodly Pylos seeking his shambling oxen, and he had his broad
 shoulders covered with a dark cloud. But when the Far-Shooter perceived the tracks, he
 cried: “Oh, oh! Truly this is a great marvel that my eyes behold! These are indeed the tracks of straight-horned oxen, but they are turned backwards
 towards the flowery meadow. But these others are not the footprints of man or woman or grey
 wolves or bears or lions, nor do I think they are the tracks of a rough-maned Centaur — whoever it be that with swift feet makes such monstrous footprints; wonderful are
 the tracks on this side of the way, but yet more wonderful are those on that.” When he had
 so said, the lord Apollo, the Son of Zeus hastened on and came to the forest-clad mountain
 of Cyllene and the deep-shadowed cave in the rock where the divine nymph brought forth the child of Zeus who is the son of Cronos. A sweet odor spread over
 the lovely hill, and many thin-shanked sheep were grazing on the grass. Then far-shooting
 Apollo himself stepped down in haste over the stone threshold into the dusky cave. Now when the Son of Zeus and Maia saw Apollo in a rage about his cattle, he
 snuggled down in his fragrant swaddling-clothes; and as wood-ash covers over the deep embers
 of tree-stumps, so Hermes cuddled himself up when he saw the Far-Shooter. He squeezed head and hands and feet together in a small space, like a new born
 child seeking sweet sleep, though in truth he was wide awake, and he kept his lyre under his
 armpit. But the Son of Leto was aware and failed not to perceive the beautiful
 mountain-nymph and her dear son, albeit a little child and swathed so craftily. He peered in every corner of the
 great dwelling and, taking a bright key, he opened three closets full of nectar and lovely
 ambrosia. And much gold and silver was stored in them, and many garments of the nymph, some purple and some silvery white, such as are
 kept in the sacred houses of the blessed gods. Then, after the Son of Leto had searched out
 the recesses of the great house, he spake to glorious Hermes: “Child, lying in the cradle,
 make haste and tell me of my cattle, or we two will soon fall out angrily. For I will
 take and cast you into dusky Tartarus and awful hopeless darkness, and neither your mother
 nor your father shall free you or bring you up again to the light, but you will wander under
 the earth and be the leader amongst little folk.” Hermes is
 ambitious (1.175), but if he is cast into Hades he will have to be content with the
 leadership of mere babies like himself, since those in Hades retain the state of growth
 —whether childhood or manhood —in which they are at the moment of leaving the upper
 world. 
 Then Hermes answered him with crafty words: “Son of Leto, what harsh words are
 these you have spoken? And is it cattle of the field you are come here to seek? I have not
 seen them: I have not heard of them: no one has told me of them. I cannot give news of them,
 nor win the reward for news. Am I like a cattle-lifter, a stalwart person? This is no task for me: rather I care
 for other things: I care for sleep, and milk of my mother's breast, and wrappings round my
 shoulders, and warm baths. Let no one hear the cause of this dispute; for this would be a great marvel indeed among the deathless gods, that a child
 newly born should pass in through the forepart of the house with cattle of the field: herein
 you speak extravagantly. I was born yesterday, and my feet are soft and the ground beneath
 is rough; nevertheless, if you will have it so, I will swear a great oath by my father's
 head and vow that neither am I guilty myself, neither have I seen any other who stole your cows
 —whatever cows may be; for I know them only by hearsay.” So, then, said Hermes, shooting
 quick glances from his eyes: and he kept raising his brows and looking this way and that, whistling long and listening to Apollo's story as to an idle tale. But far-working
 Apollo laughed softly and said to him: “O rogue, deceiver, crafty in heart, you talk so
 innocently that I most surely believe that you have broken into many a well-built house and
 stripped more than one poor wretch bare this night, Literally, “you have made him sit on the floor,”
 i.e. “you have stolen everything down to his last chair.” gathering his goods
 together all over the house without noise. You will plague many a lonely herdsman in
 mountain glades, when you come on herds and thick-fleeced sheep, and have a hankering after
 flesh. But come now, if you would not sleep your last and latest sleep, get out of your cradle, you comrade of dark night. Surely hereafter this shall be
 your title amongst the deathless gods, to be called the prince of robbers continually.” So
 said Phoebus Apollo, and took the child and began to carry him. But at that moment the
 strong Slayer of Argus