Tall trees bent low before him, and young trees tore themselves from the
ground and followed in his train.

Foul waters parted so that Orpheus and his band might pass through
unharmed; they knew no longer any evil thing.

Before they reached the river of pure water, to which the tiger was
leading them, a lion, fierce with anger, sprang madly at his old enemy.
Orpheus took his harp and played so wonderfully that the pine trees
sighed with sorrow, and the lion, loosing his hold on the tiger,
followed the sweet singer of Thrace. At the river the birds, the wild
cat, the tiger, and the lion drank together with Orpheus, with not one
thought of hurting one another.

"We are tired," said the birds. "Let us stay here by this river," and
Orpheus agreed. The birds flew to the trees, while the others tried to
rest on the huge rocks by the shore, but these were jagged and rough.
They would give no rest to any one.

Then Orpheus began to play, and the hardest rocks were stirred. They
rolled over and over into the river, and in their places the softest
beds of white sand were ready for all. Orpheus rested, with the lion and
the tiger for his night-watchers, and the wild cat asleep in the tree
with the birds.

In the morning the harp sounded again, and the strange company wandered
away, happy to be near the music. The three wild beasts fed together on
the river grasses and forgot that they had been life-long enemies.