The Dragon of the Ishtar Gate

Myron's mind wandered to similar scenes from the world of nature. He thought of a fly creeping about a fruit, running sure-footedly over the lower as well as the upper surface; or the lizards that swarmed in the Negroes' huts, scuttling upside down across the ceilings of thatch. Now, suppose the world were like such a fruit—spherical, as Bessas had once jestingly suggested—and men were like the fly. Then they could walk on all sides, bottom as well as top, without falling off.

But how would this be possible? Well, how did a fly manage? No doubt a fly had sticky feet, and men did not. But the forces that bound men fast to the earth's surface might work down towards the center of such a ball-earth from all sides. In that case, the direction of "down" would be one of those relative things whereof Herakleitos hinted. Why should one believe that there is any universal direction of "down," the same for gods and men? Why indeed, save that it was one of those things one had always taken for granted?

My "down," he thought, need not be the same as your "down," nor is my "up" your "up." It all depends upon where we stand. If we stand on opposite sides of this fantastic ball-earth, your "down" is my "up" and vice versa.

Myron leaped up and began to pace, striking his palm with his fist. The theory seemed at first utterly insane. But, the longer one thought about it, the more sense it made. Why did one see different stars, the farther south one went? Because one was farther around the bulge of the sphere. Where did the sun go at night? Why, around to the other side of the sphere. Why could one not see clear to the edge of the earth from a high mountain? Because one could not see around the curvature of the sphere. Why did the sun pass directly overhead in this clime, but not farther north? Because this was the part of the earth directly beneath the path of the sun, whereas in Hellas one viewed the sun from outside this zone.

Myron started back for the camp, so filled with his marvelous idea that twice he tripped over buttress roots and fell. At the camp, men were napping or performing small chores. Bessas looked up casually; then his deep-set eyes hardened as he saw that something was up.

"Heurêka auto!" cried Myron.

"You have found what?"

"I know! I know it! At last! It's wonderful!"

"Have you gone mad?"

Myron caught his breath. "The shape of the earth! I have found it! I know it! My dear fellow, this is the greatest d-day of my life!" He seized Bessas' massive arm and squeezed, shaking the arm as a dog shakes its prey. "It is shaped like a ball, a sphere! It is round! This explains everything! I am a made man! At last!"

He poured out a stream of impassioned Greek, arguing and explaining, shaking his fists, slapping Kothar's back, kissing Phyllis, hugging a startled Zayd, then leaping and capering about the camp like one bereft of his senses. He threw himself on the ground and rolled, laughing and crying.

"It's wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful ..."

Zayd asked Bessas: "Have the gods taken away our poor friend's wits?"

Bessas shook his head. "Nay. This is a seizure of what the Hellenes call philosophy."

"Is it then a kind of religious frenzy?"

"You might say so, though this religion has no temples. If we pay him no heed, it will pass." Bessas blew his whistle. "Time to pick up our loads! Jump to it, whoresons!"

"I—I was just washing my shirt," said Myron, "and watching these little yellow birds, when—where in Tartaros is my shirt, anyway? I must have left it by the stream!"

He ran off to recover the garment.