Orpheus had said, before he came into the wood, that he was tired of men
and their quarrels; that wild beasts were easier to tame than angry men;
and so he found it during these two days in the forest.

He took his harp and played and sang a sweet, wild song of love and
peace, and overhead the leaves and branches of the oaks danced for joy
of living. Not one growl, not one quarrel was heard where even the
echoes of the music went. The very rocks answered the voice of Orpheus,
and everything was at peace.

Then came the sound of the hunting dogs. The lion raised his shaggy
head, but put it down again. Savage light came again into the eyes of
the tiger and of the wild cat. The dogs came nearer. Orpheus played on
his lute and the dogs came and lay down at his feet, and the hunters
went home without their prey.

That night Orpheus led the birds and beasts all back to the places
where he had found them, and went home to live once more in his cave
in Thrace.

For years hunters told, over their camp-fires, strange stories of a
tiger and a lion who lived together in the deep forest; of a wild cat
with eyes like a pet fawn; and of birds whose songs were so sweet that
wild beasts grew tame as they listened.

Sometimes, even in these days, it seems as if Orpheus were
singing again.

When the wind stirs, there comes sweet music. The pine trees sigh, the
leaves and branches of the forest trees dance as in the days when