Read Online Argos by Ralph Hardy - Free Book Online

long and good hunt.
    â€œIt grows cold, Argos, does it not?”
    â€œYes, Titus, there is a cold wind blowing,” I say, though it is a hot summer afternoon.
    I lie down next to him. The vultures leave their perches, spinning gyres above us, but they know not to come close. After some time Titus speaks.
    â€œMy master will come for me soon, Argos.”
    â€œYes, very soon.”
    â€œWe will hunt again.”
    â€œYes, even the mighty boar will run from you.”
    But at that moment I feel Titus’s body relax, and his panting stops. He is dead. After a few minutes I rise and trot over to the old mountain wolf, who has wasted a day waiting to attack my friend and is now feeling hunger. He is alone, and thus dares not attack me, for I am the larger.
    â€œCousin,” I say. “Do not waste your efforts on my friend. I know where you can find fresh meat to ease your stomach’s pains. Keep watch for me tonight, and I will bring you the prize.”
    The wolf looks at me with doubt in his yellow eyes but backs away into the wood. It’s time to get rid of the vultures too. I return to where my friend lies, but as I do, I pretend to stagger. My tail droops and I hang my head low. I curl up beside my friend and wait. The vultures grow bold. They screech to one another and then, one by one, land on the small hill above the stream and teeter toward us. I close my eyes as if I too have been poisoned, and when they come so close their smelly beaks nearly make me gag, I leap to my feet and hurl myself among them, biting and clawing. I kill three before they can fly off, and rip the wings off many more.
    â€œFeed not on this carcass,” I bark at them, “or you will feel my teeth, most despised of birds!”
    Hearing this, the vultures fly away, screeching their anger, but I care not. I return to Titus and sit beside him as the long evening shadows fall. Finally I hear Telemachos calling me. I bark, and after a few moments he comes running down the hill. He sees the dead vultures and then the body of my friend, and he knows I will not leave Titus unattended.
    So my master’s son picks up Titus and carries him to the edge of our vineyard, and he with his spear, and I with my claws, dig a grave for the body. Afterward Telemachos covers it with large stones so scavengers cannot dig it up. Then,together, we walk back to my master’s house in the gathering darkness.
    The suitors are leaving; my mistress Penelope has thrown them out, as she does every night, weary as she is of their promises and lies. The last to leave is the lame red-haired man. He looks about furtively, then lingers at the door, hoping for a final word with my mistress. This was a mistake, for now he has no one to protect him.
    â€œGood widow,” the man says, “we have tarried too long and now the road is dark. Perhaps there is room for me in your house tonight?”
    My mistress shakes her head at his request.
    â€œThe moon is full. It will light your path,” she says. “And I am not a widow.”
    Then, before he can utter another plea, Telemachos closes the door firmly.
    And now I am alone with him. The man curses and starts back along the road. He is armed only with a long spear, which he uses as a crutch as well as a weapon. I trot toward him, and he points it at me while uttering another loud curse. I back away and then, pretending to ignore him, wander off toward the sheep stall where I sometimes sleep. From there I can track him as he limps along the path leading down the hill andthrough the valley toward his own miserable hut. After giving him a head start, I take a shortcut and pass him. Then I double back to wait.
    At one point along the path, the trail narrows and there is a sharp turn overgrown with wild olive trees with low branches that block the sun—or the full moon. I wait for him there. And I smell my cousin. He lies hiding behind the boulders that have tumbled down from the