Free Monsters of Greek Mythology, Volume One by Bernard Evslin Page B

confusion amused the gods mightily. The anguished explanations humankind found for god-sport convulsed the Olympians with laughter. Manhunting became a craze. And the herds were dwindling rapidly.
    Prometheus, who had appointed himself protector of humankind, came to Zeus and said: “You who made man, why do you destroy him?”
    â€œI’m not destroying him,” said Zeus. “Oh, I bag one or two occasionally. But that’s not destroying, that’s culling . Improves the stock, you know. They breed quite rapidly.”
    â€œNot as rapidly as they’re being killed. Look down, if you don’t believe me. You’ll see that your herds are shrinking daily.”
    â€œPerhaps. I hadn’t really noticed.”
    â€œPlease notice,” said Prometheus.
    â€œIn regard for your age and reputed wisdom,” said Zeus, “I have overlooked a certain lack of respect in your manner toward me. But I must warn you, my patience is not inexhaustible.”
    â€œIf I have taken liberties, my lord, it is in your service. I promised you that if you created the race of man, he would nourish you with his worship. You are disappointed because he has not yet displayed that talent.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œBut—and pardon me again, oh King—you have not waited long enough. The talent for worship, which is an offshoot of the capacity for wonder and the impulse toward praise, is something unique to mankind, and will develop only as he emerges from the animal state. Give him time, more time, I pray, and you will be pleased beyond measure.”
    â€œYou are eloquent on this creature’s behalf,” said Zeus.
    â€œIt is on your own behalf, my lord. Stop the slaughter. Let him develop at his own rate. He will learn to rejoice in your handiwork, and sing your praises so beautifully that you will be entranced.”
    Thereupon, Zeus summoned the gods to a grand conclave. They thronged his throne room. He sat on the enormous throne made of cloud-crystal and congealed starfire, and wore his ceremonial sunset robes of purple and gold. The scepter he bore was a volt-blue zigzag shaft of lightning.
    â€œOh Pantheon,” he thundered, “hear my words! Our herds are being slaughtered at a rate that approaches extermination. I have decided to be displeased by this, and hereby impose game laws. The monthly kill shall not exceed six per god. And I mean six adults, no children under twelve, no pregnant females or nursing mothers.… Severe penalties attach to transgression. Whoever exceeds his quota shall be shackled to the roots of a mountain in Tartarus and abide in suffocating darkness through eternity. I have spoken. You may go.”
    The new law was not popular. Hera came raging to Zeus one day, and although he was omnipotent, she was his wife and had one unique power; she could make him miserable. So he spoke to her gently and asked why she was so angry.
    â€œIt’s that ridiculous law of yours,” she hissed.
    â€œYou don’t think the quota large enough? I didn’t realize you were so keen a huntress, my queen.”
    â€œIt’s not that!” she shouted. “But I did fill my bag early this month, and now there’s someone down there who needs killing.”
    â€œWait till next month,” said Zeus.
    â€œI can’t!”
    â€œWhat’s your hurry?”
    â€œShe’s offended me.”
    â€œSomething personal?”
    â€œVery personal. I hate her. I must kill her now. Please, my lord.”
    â€œVery well, but don’t make a habit of this sort of thing. We who make laws shouldn’t break them.”
    Hera did not hear his last words. She was sliding down a sunray. And in a few minutes had cooled her wrath by murdering the unlucky girl who had offended her.… But what Zeus had feared came to pass. Other gods heard of this and came storming into the throne room, citing points of personal privilege and demanding that