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as
the water it floated on, and some thirty feet long when first I looked at it,
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though later it seemed shorter. He was alone in the boat now, standing in the
rear, from which position he seemed to control his vessel easily with his
single
pole.
I suppose I might have waded or swum the river, taking my chances with
whatever
dangers might lie concealed in the dark water. But I preferred to bend Charon
to
my will, rather than seem to be avoiding him. It was as if I sought out
obstacles for the sheer raging joy of forcing my way through them.
By now, I thought, my eyes were as well accustomed to the eternal darkness as
they were ever going to be. The Styx was broad and gloomy and slow-moving,
with
the opposite shore visible only as a suggestion of disturbing shadows. Now
and
then a few bubbles from some unknown source came rising out of the depths.
Those who stood onshore disputing with the boatman were dim, dark figures,
hard
to see in any detail, even when I came near them. I took them to be the
shades
of five or six folk who were new arrivals, like myself. Without thinking
about
it I at first assumed that, unlike me, they were dead and engaged in the
traditional ritual of passage.
But when I came right in among them, I could perceive these others clearly
enough to see that two or three were steadily, audibly breathing, and one
even
seemed to be gasping in terror and exhaustion. Then they were no more dead
than
I was, at least not finally. I was reminded of the strange condition of Queen
Alcestis when Thanatos had her in his grasp.
Most of the legendary tales agreed that at the point where I had now arrived,
it
was necessary for the newly arrived soul to bargain for its passage. In fact,
at
the moment of my arrival, one of the men in the group was shrilly demanding
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to
be taken across even though he could not pay.
One of his fellows was nervously trying to calm him, calling him Menippus. I
elbowed my way in among the others, stood by the arguer, and would have taken
his part in the debate with Charon, except that Menippus glared at me with
resentment the first time I opened my mouth on his behalf.
Charon resented my intrusion, too.
"I am Hercules, of Cadmia," I told the boatman when he rounded on me with
hand
outstretched for payment. And in the next breath I demanded: "I have come to
this wretched place looking for Thanatos. Where is he?"
Now Charon looked at me closely for the first time, and his ancient, rheumy
eyes
went wide. It was doubtless the first time in his miserable life that he had
ever heard that question asked; and I saw by his terrified reaction to my
name
and question that my reputation had preceded me even into Hell. There was no
room in his image of the world for any intruder like me. So I waved my club
and
terrified the boatman into cooperating.
His voice was quavering, though he tried to make it brave. "Lord Hercules,
there
is the matter of payment "
I had no patience, either, with one who would ask me to pay for this kind of
ride. "Payment? Payment! How do you dare to ask me such a question, you
damned
unhuman monster? How dare you ask such a thing of anyone?"
"It is . . . it is the custom, sir . . ."
"To the Underworld with your custom!" I roared out, then paused, thinking
that
the way I had phrased my defiance somehow did not make sense.
Next he protested that his boat was too fragile to take the weight of living
flesh and bone, but I disallowed that argument, having already seen that some
of
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the other passengers were breathing. With the exception of Menippus, they all
seemed willing to be herded along like sheep.
At last we were off, and I had to put up with no more nonsense from our
boatman
about being charged for the ride. Charon drove his vessel energetically
across
the broad, dark river, displaying a vigor that the appearance of his crinkled
form suggested was quite impossible. The moment the prow ran ashore on the
Hellward bank, I stepped out onto land. As I turned my back on them all, I
could
hear Menippus resuming his own dispute with the boatman, even after having
been
ferried across. Now the unhappy passenger was demanding to be returned to the
other side, and Charon was responding with abusive threats.
Later, the legends would tell how Charon was punished with a beating by some
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