He went on until he came into a country where the fences were
overthrown and the fields wasted and the houses empty and fallen.
He went on until he came to the waste around that land: there he
came on the trail of the lion; it led up the side
of a mountain, and Heracles, without shield or arms, followed the
trail.
He heard the roar of the lion. Looking up he saw the beast
standing at the mouth of a cavern, huge and dark against the
sunset. The lion roared three times, and then it went within the
cavern.
Around the mouth were strewn the bones of creatures it had killed
and carried there. Heracles looked upon them when he came to the
cavern. He went within. Far into the cavern he went, and then he
came to where he saw the lion. It was sleeping.
Heracles viewed the terrible bulk of the lion, and then he looked
upon his own knotted hands and arms. He remembered that it was
told of him that, while still a child of eight months, he had
strangled a great serpent that had come to his cradle to devour
him. He had grown and his strength had grown too.
So he stood, measuring his strength and the size of the lion. The
breath from its mouth and nostrils came heavily to him as the
beast slept, gorged with its prey. Then the lion yawned. Heracles
sprang on it and put his great hands upon its throat. No growl
came out of its mouth, but the great eyes blazed while the
terrible paws tore at Heracles. Against the rock Heracles held
the beast; strongly he held it, choking it through the skin that
was almost impenetrable.
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