Chapter 26 - Page 2

dogs, and led them to rouse up from the thicket a tame stag, the
favorite of Silvia, the daughter of Tyrrheus, the king's
herdsman. A javelin from the hand of Iulus wounded the animal,
and he had only strength left to run homewards, and died at his
mistress' feet. Her cries and tears roused her brothers and the
herdsmen, and they, seizing whatever weapons came to hand,
furiously assaulted the hunting party. These were protected by
their friends, and the herdsmen were finally driven back with the
loss of two of their number. These things were enough to rouse the storm of war, and the
queen, Turnus, and the peasants, all urged the old king to drive
the strangers from the country. He resisted as long as he could,
but finding his opposition unavailing, finally gave way and
retreated to his retirement. OPENING THE GATES OF JANUS It was the custom of the country, when war was to be undertaken,
for the chief magistrate, clad in his robes of office, with
solemn pomp to open the gates of the temple of Janus, which were
kept shut as long as peace endured. His people now urged the old
king to perform that solemn office, but he refused to do so.
While they contested, Juno herself, descending from the skies,
smote the doors with irresistible force and burst them open.
Immediately the whole country was in a flame. The people rushed
from every side breathing nothing but war. Turnus was recognized by all as leader; others joined as allies,
chief of whom was Mezentius, a brave and able soldier, but of
detestable cruelty. He had been the chief of one of the
neighboring cities, but his people drove him out. With him was
joined his son Lausus, a generous youth worthy of a better sire. CAMILLA Camilla, the favorite of Diana, a huntress and warrior, after the
fashion of the Amazons, came with her band of mounted followers,
including a select number of her own sex, and ranged herself on
the side of Turnus. This maiden had never accustomed her fingers
to the distaff or the loom, but had learned to endure the toils
of war, and in speed to outstrip the wind. It seemed as if she
might run over the standing corn without crushing it, or over the
surface of the water without dipping her feet. Camilla's history
had been singular from the beginning. Her father, Metabus,
driven from his city by civil discord, carried with him in his
flight his infant daughter. As he fled through the woods, his
enemies in hot pursuit, he reached the bank of the river
Amazenus, which, swelled by rains, seemed to debar a passage. He
paused for a moment, then decided what to do. He tied the infant
to his lance with wrappers of bark, and, poising the weapon in
his upraised hand, thus addressed Diana: "Goddess of the woods!
I consecrate this maid to you;"