three wondrous golden apples, and whispered a word of counsel in his
ear.

The signal was given; youth and maiden started over the course. They
went so like the wind that they left not a footprint. The people
cheered on Hippomenes, eager that such valor should win. But the course
was long, and soon fatigue seemed to clutch at his throat, the light
shook before his eyes, and, even as he pressed on, the maiden passed
him by.

At that instant Hippomenes tossed ahead one of the golden apples. The
rolling bright thing caught Atalanta's eye, and full of wonder she
stooped to pick it up. Hippomenes ran on. As he heard the flutter of
her tunic close behind him, he flung aside another golden apple, and
another moment was lost to the girl. Who could pass by such a marvel?
The goal was near and Hippomenes was ahead, but once again Atalanta
caught up with him, and they sped side by side like two dragon-flies.
For an instant his heart failed him; then, with a last prayer to Venus,
he flung down the last apple. The maiden glanced at it, wavered, and
would have left it where it had fallen, had not Venus turned her head
for a second and given her a sudden wish to possess it. Against her
will she turned to pick up the golden apple, and Hippomenes touched the
goal.

So he won that perilous maiden; and as for Atalanta, she was glad to
marry such a valorous man. By this time she understood so well what it
was like to be pursued, that she had lost a little of her pleasure in
hunting.