bare, hairy flesh-the hunched back of Cacus, moving up and down and this way and that. The ox-driver moved forward more cautiously, not sure what sort of man or beast he was approaching. Punctuating the gasps and groans and slavering noises was a curious, guttural sound: Cacus…cacus…cacus!
Then he heard a sound that chilled his blood-the scream he had heard before, from a woman in great distress.
The ox-driver gave a shout. The hunched back suddenly ceased moving. A face, shockingly hideous, rose above the high grass and peered at him. The creature snarled, gave a cry of indignation-“Cacus!”-then rose to its full height. That the creature was male became evident by the virile member displayed between its legs. Beneath the creature, still hidden by the grass, the woman let out a plaintive sob.
The ox-driver was not used to encountering anything that walked on two legs that was as big as himself; this creature was bigger. Nor had he ever encountered a creature as loathsome to look at as Cacus. Revulsion rose in his throat, and an unaccustomed emotion washed over him-the cold prickle of fear. The lion whose skin he wore he had killed with his bare hands, but a lion seemed a minor menace compared to Cacus.
The ox-driver braced himself and gave another shout, challenging the creature to fight. A moment later, with a deafening roar, Cacus hurtled toward him.
The sheer mass of the creature struck the ox-driver with bruising force, knocking him to the ground. The stench of the creature’s breath filled his nostrils. The taste of the creature’s foul sweat mingled on his tongue with the bitter flavor of dirt as they tumbled on the ground. The flies that swarmed around the creature buzzed in the ox-driver’s ears and flew into his nostrils and eyes, tormenting and distracting him.
With the creature atop him, crushing him, the ox-driver frantically reached for anything that might serve as a weapon. His hand closed on a fallen branch. He swung it with all his might. A shuddering impact ran through his arm as the branch broke against the creature’s skull. The piece that remained in his fist was jagged and sharp; he stabbed it against the creature’s flank. A scream pierced his ears. Hot blood ran over his hand, causing him to lose his grip on the weapon. The creature bolted up and away from him.
The ox-driver staggered to his feet. He watched the creature pull the shard of wood from his bleeding flesh and cast it aside. For a moment he thought the creature might flee. Instead, Cacus hurtled toward him and knocked him to the ground. The ox-driver managed to wriggle free and scamper back to his feet. A short distance away, amid the high grass, he saw a stone the size of newborn ox, and ran toward it. He surprised even himself when he lifted the stone over his head. He hurled it toward the pursuing Cacus.
Cacus managed to dodge the stone, but only barely; it grazed his shoulder and sent him reeling. Enraged, he picked up an even larger stone and hurled it. The ox-driver dove to one side. The stone struck a towering oak tree and shattered the trunk. The whole tree came crashing to the ground.
Amid a din of creaking and cracking, a host of shrieking birds took flight, and then all was still. The ox-driver struggled to catch his breath. The creature was nowhere to be seen. Had he fled? Was he pinned beneath the branches of the tree? For an instant the ox-driver let down his guard-then he caught a whiff of the creature’s stench, and heard the buzzing of flies. He whirled about, and in the next instant felt two hands grip his throat.
Spots swam before his eyes. The meadow grew dim, as if night had suddenly fallen. His head seemed to swell like a bloated wineskin, until he felt sure it would burst.
His struggled to pry Cacus’s hands from his throat. The creature’s grip was unshakable. The ox-driver sought desperately to gain a purchase with his fingertips, and at last managed to grasp one of Cacus’s fingers and slowly bend it backward. He heard the finger snap, and was sickened by the noise, but Cacus held fast. He broke another finger, on the creature’s other hand, and another. As a fourth finger snapped, Cacus gave an unearthly scream and relented. His grip was broken.
Before Cacus could escape, the ox-driver deftly slipped behind him and caught the creature’s neck in the vise of his elbow. With his other hand he gripped his wrist, tightening the vise. Cacus struggled to draw a breath, but could not. Nor could he wrench the arm away from his throat, for his fingers were broken, his hands useless.
Mustering all his remaining strength, the ox-driver wrenched the creature’s head to one side and gave it a hard twist. Cacus’s neck was broken. He thrashed and convulsed. The huge weight of his body slipped from the ox- driver’s grasp. He tumbled to the ground with his head cocked at an impossible angle and his limbs akimbo.
Utterly exhausted, the ox-driver dropped to his knees, fighting back nausea and gasping for breath. His vision was blurred. Flies buzzed in his ears.
The dog, wide awake now, suddenly arrived at a gallop, barking ferociously and baring his fangs at the sight of the corpse. He pounced atop the limp body of Cacus, stood stiffly upright, perked his ears, and alerted the people of the
In feverish glimpses, Potitia had witnessed the entire struggle.
When the stranger’s challenge drew Cacus’s attention, she had managed to scramble to her feet and to flee. Stumbling and staggering, she repeatedly looked back. It seemed to her that she saw not two men but two entities greater than human engaged in a fight to the death. She felt the earth shake beneath their stamping feet. She saw them lift stones that no mortal could lift. She saw a great tree fall to the ground, destroyed by their combat. She saw Cacus fall dead, and the ox-driver drop to his knees.
In a daze, she made her way to river. No matter how vigorously she scrubbed her flesh, rubbing until it was red and raw, the stench of the monster clung to her.
When she staggered back to the settlement, no one remarked on the smell. Indeed, they took no notice of her. Learning of the monster’s demise, the ecstatic settlers had circled the ox-driver and were loudly praising him, shyly touching him, trying to lift him onto their shoulders and laughing when he proved to be too big and heavy.
No one realized what had happened to Potitia except the ox-driver, who shot her a look of mingled relief and remorse. She herself said nothing about it, not even to her father.
The body of Cacus was dragged a great distance from the settlement. Repeatedly, vultures tried to land upon it. The people drove them off, until the ox-driver made it clear that they should desist and allow the vultures to snatch whatever delicacies they could. When the vultures flew off with Cacus’s eyes and tongue, the ox-driver applauded them.
“It seems the fellow has a high regard for vultures,” noted Potitius. “And why not? Whenever he sees a vulture, it’s probably because another of his enemies is dead!”
Satisfied that the vultures had been propitiated, the people pelted the corpse of Cacus with stones, then set it aflame. A wind from the southwest carried the foul smoke high into the air and away from the
That night, there was rejoicing in the settlement. The ox that had been killed by Cacus was butchered. The flesh was roasted for a great feast in honor of the stranger who had delivered them. His hunger was voracious; he ate everything they set before him.
Potitius felt moved to make a speech. “Nothing so terrible as the coming of the monster has ever occurred in living memory. Nothing so wonderful has ever occurred as the monster’s destruction. We were on the verge of abandoning this place in despair.” Here he looked sidelong at his cousin Pinarius. “Then we were saved by an occurrence which none of us possibly could have foreseen-the arrival of a stranger who was every bit a match for the monster. This is a sign that we were meant to reside always in the land of the
Wine had always been a rare and precious commodity in the settlement; it had become even more so after the traders stopped coming. Still, the store that remained, mixed with water, was enough to provide a serving to everyone at the feast, with extra portions-unwatered and as much as he could drink, which proved to be a great quantity-for the ox-driver. Encouraged by raucous laughter and shouting, he repeatedly mimed his battle with Cacus, laughing and stumbling around the roasting pit until at last he lay down exhausted and fell into a deep sleep.
The settlers were drunk and stuffed with food. Many had not enjoyed a proper sleep since the coming of Cacus, and they happily followed the stranger into the land of dreams.
