There was a time, long ago, when I walked along the craggy hilltops of Arcadia. With one hand I loosely held my bow, and with the other I shaded my eyes from Phoebus' rays. I was ready when I saw the red stag. He was grazing in a meadow far below me, cropping the tops off seedling poplar trees. I strung my bow and pulled an arrow from my quiver. The stag did not hear me and he continued grazing, oblivious to the death that would soon take him.
The twang of the bowstring made him jerk his head up, bits of green still hanging from his lips, and the arrow took him in the throat. He dropped down to his knees and then fell over onto his side. His mouth gaped and his legs thrashed in the moment of his death, and then he lay still. He was mine. I unstrung my bow, then clambered down the rocky slopes of the mountain. The kill had been quick and clean. Surely Artemis herself would have been proud of such a kill. A sparrow flew away, its short wings thrashing against the wind.
When I reached the meadow, I pulled the arrow out of the stag's wound, then hoisted the stag up over my shoulder. He was heavy, but the walk was short, and I knew Artemis would be pleased.
But the walk was shorter than I had expected. I paused by a little brook to have a drink of water, and Artemis herself appeared behind me, having been hidden amongst some cedar trees.
"Dearest of all my companions," she said, "where have you been hunting? On what mountain ridges?"
I rose up from where I had been drinking and turned around to face her. "Greetings, divine mistress," I cried, "greater in my sight than Zeus himself--I care not if he hears me!"
But Zeus did hear me, and his able-bodied form began to materialize from behind the mask of Artemis. I had been tricked. And even as the guise of Artemis was still slipping off Zeus, he stepped toward me, holding his arms out. I leaped back, knowing what he wanted. There is not a person alive who does not know about the sexual appetites of the king of the gods. But I was a nymph of Artemis, a virgin, and I knew I could not give my maidenhood to any man, or to any god.
I turned to flee. I was willing to leave my kill behind, for surely Artemis would be less angry with me for returning empty-handed than she would for my returning no longer a maiden. But even as the thought entered my mind, Zeus held me with my arms pinned. I kicked; I screamed; I bit. Nevertheless, Zeus only smiled, for who can fight a god? But he said, "Fight me, dear Callisto. Let me see your hair fly around your head like beautiful black gulls around a golden beach. Struggle, for it excites me further."
And then he pulled the white ribbon from my tresses so that my hair flew around my head as I struggled. Zeus smiled again, and I feared his smile. In it was the enmity of Artemis and of Hera. He removed his loin cloth and revealed to me his very godhead. I felt my heart deadened as he tore my dress aside and thrust himself inside of me. I pleaded with him to stop, but he showed no mercy--only lust.
When he finally left me lying beside the brook, I was very afraid. What if Artemis had witnessed my shame? What if the other nymphs had seen my crime? But only a sparrow chirped nearby, and the dead stag could not bear witness, so I felt somewhat heartened. I hurriedly washed myself off in the brook, getting rid of the blood and the sweet ambrosia scent of Zeus's seed. My dress I pinned back on, and walking painfully, I carried the stag back to Artemis.
Artemis was well-pleased with the stag I had killed, and for six moons I remained her favourite of the nymphs. Six moons after Zeus had raped me, my abdomen began to swell, and I knew I would not be able to conceal my crime much longer.
One day, after a hunt, Artemis, the nymphs, and I reclined by a pool, refreshing ourselves in the cool shade of a leafy fig tree. Artemis was pleased by the results of the hunt. Together we had slain a leopard and a great bear. The sleek spotted skin of the leopard and the shaggy brown pelt of the bear were being stretched and tanned.
I had been nauseous for about a fortnight, and the smell of the raw flesh of the bear sent me away from the party and into the midst of some bushes. Even as I held my stomach in one hand, the contents of my belly pouring out from between my lips, I could sense the narrowing of my mistress's eyes and the flaring of her nostrils. Surely she knew why I was ill. When I came back to the side of the pool, she looked at me carefully. "Callisto, most favoured of all my hunters," she said. "Would it not be a fine idea to have for ourselves a contest?"
"What type of a contest?" I answered weakly.
"A swimming contest!" she said. "Let us see for ourselves who can reach the far shore of the pool soonest. The victor shall have for herself the hides of the bear and of the leopard."
The nymphs were excited by this proposal, and they began to remove their clothing, readying themselves for the race. I watched as Aura, Rhodopis, and Daphnia leaped out of the low branches of the oak tree where they had been stretching the hides. Atalanta, Polyphonte, and Thrassa threw down the skinning knives they had been sharpening and tore off their blood-soaked garments. Their bodies were lithe and their movements unconstrained. They were not burdened by unborn hybrids. Their bronze naked limbs and flat tanned stomachs shone in the sun. I did not move.
"Callisto, do you not wish to partake in this contest?"
I knew that if I removed my clothing that my abdomen would give my crime away, but I knew that if I refused to participate in the race that I would be punished equally. I could not refuse, for no mortal can fight a goddess.
All eyes were upon me as I had tarried so long before following my mistress's behest. I unpinned the brooch that held my dress on and laid bare my betrayal. The nymphs gasped and collectively turned away from me.
Artemis's anger was immense. I could feel it filling the grove, and her words seared my ears and my mind. "How dare you bring this shame upon me--your goddess? How dare you hide such a secret from me? Do not return lest I kill you, and do not return lest my nymphs tear your body and the body of your unborn brat limb from limb."
Weeping, I fled the grove with my dress, bow, and quiver of arrows. I wandered for three moons until, one evening, the contractions of my labour would let me walk no longer. I squatted down that night, and I gave birth to a man-child on the dew-laden grasses and sedge. I named the boy Arcas, and no sooner had the name left my lips when there was a sudden bubble of light in front of me. From out of the light stepped Hera, and her eyes seemed to spit venom. Her lips were flattened together in a terrible scowl, and she stared at me for a very long time. I tried to beg her forgiveness, for I had not meant to incite the desires of her husband, her brother, but she struck me with the flat of her hand.
"How dare you beg forgiveness from one whom you have sinned against so greatly? What sort of temerity is this that you may try to remove from yourself such blame? I was willing to give you peace, but you dared to give birth to a son! For this I curse you. Never again shall you exercise the power of the hunt, and no longer shall you incite the lust of Zeus. You shall become a hunted creature, an animal worthy only of being hunted and brought down by spears and by arrows."
I dropped down on my hands and knees to supplicate myself before her, but she made her way back into the light and vanished. I could feel the tears coursing down my cheeks in rivulets, and I reached my hand up to wipe the salty water away. But the hand that touched my face was a hand no longer. It was a great brown paw. I howled out loud in my fear, but the sound that left my lips was not the sound of a woman. It was the bawling of an anguished bear.
I carefully scooped Arcas up between my paws and walked upright carrying him until I came upon the hut of a peasant. Once there I laid him down beside the goat-pen and gave him one last kiss, my tongue bathing his face in the gentlest caress I could give. I bawled out loud again and I heard two men and a boy rush out of the hut, waving spears and shouting to frighten me away from their goats. I waited until they were almost upon me, and then I fled into the darkness.
I heard them discover my son, and I felt relief when I had discerned that they had decided to care for him.
Years passed and I avoided death by the arrows of hunters. One day I happened to pass close by the same hut where I had taken my son. The skeleton fingers of white poplar trees enshrined the area. A youth carrying a bow and arrows was hunting with nets, entangling sparrows and other small birds to take home for the stew pot. He was very handsome, and I recognized in him the features of both Zeus and of myself when I yet had my human form. Surely this was Arcas! This was my son! I rushed towards him, my love for him bursting my very heart. But the look he gave me was not one of a reciprocated love. It was the rictus of terror. Deftly, he pulled his largest arrow from his quiver, and he pulled back the string of his bow. He was going to kill me. How could I have forgotten that I would frighten him in my bear form? As the arrow flew true towards me, I felt myself scooped up by the hands of Zeus and placed into the sky. I cried out when I saw Zeus reach also for my Arcas, reaching out to change him too into a star. I wept when I saw Arcas struggle in the hands of Zeus, far above the outstretched poplars. His struggle was futile, for who can fight a god? Now he rests beside me, and together we flash out brightness in a cold, black sky.
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