Chapter 11

A MARATHON RUN TO ROME

"All roads lead to Rome!" called Edith, from her seat in the automobile, to Rafael in the door of the inn. The boy gave her a merry salute in answer, and climbed to his place by her side.

It was a lovely morning, and every peasant they passed waved a hand in friendly greeting to the two happy young people, while Mrs. Sprague leaned back and listened to their merry chatter, which never stopped through the long hours.

Rafael was constantly calling Edith's attention to this thing or that,--to the gray oxen, to the flocks of sheep, to the donkey carts which they passed. At last Edith said, "Rafael, why do you look always at the road? Why don't you look instead of those distant mountains, with the castles and monasteries crowning their peaks?"

Rafael looked somewhat bewildered. "These animals are all so foreign-looking to me," he said gently; "and it is a new thing for me to see men digging in the fields, and women picking leaves from the trees."

"Why, of course!" said Edith, remembering that Rafael was used to canals instead of roads, and the changing waters of a lagoon rather than green meadows. "It is a new sight to me, as well," she added, "that of women picking the mulberry leaves to feed to silkworms. We have few silkworms in our country.

"But neither do we have mountains crowned with castles. When I go home, I shall have to imagine that the hotel on top of Mt. Washington is a haunted monastery crowning the summit of a lofty peak."

Although Rafael knew nothing about Mt. Washington and the hotel on its top, he did know that Edith was a bright, observant girl who liked a touch of the ideal, so he asked, "Do you know about the Marathon runs of ancient Greece?"

"Yes, indeed!" she answered. "We have them now once a year at my own home in the United States, and there is great excitement over the winning of the twenty-six mile run."

Rafael shook his head in mock discouragement. "There is nothing in Europe which you have not also in the United States,--except age," he added.

"And history," said Edith.

"Yes, history," the boy repeated. "I like our history." Then he laughed and said drolly, "You may have all the history you like from my mother. She says it is better than salt. My own head is filled to bursting with all the stories she has told me of the men of olden times; of their wars and victories, their triumphs and their games. Why can we not call this ride to Rome a Marathon run?"

"A Marathon run! What fun!" exclaimed the girl. "How far away is Rome?"

"More than a hundred miles," he said. "Do you suppose we could possibly reach the site of the Golden Milestone before sunset?"

Edith's eyes sparkled at the thought, and she leaned forward to speak to the chauffeur. "Is the machine running well?" she asked. "Can we travel one hundred miles to-day?"

The man shook his head doubtfully. "There are mountains between here and Rome," he answered, "and it is not well to push the car too hard."

Edith looked at Rafael imploringly. "You are a man; can you not persuade him?" she asked under her breath.

The boy was pleased to be called a man; but as he was in truth a gallant Italian lad, he said courteously, "It is for you to persuade."

Then to the chauffeur he said, "Please stop for a moment at the first olive-garden."

"What are you going to do?" asked Edith curiously.

"Make it easy for you to persuade," he answered; and as the car stopped he jumped out, sprang to the top of the wall, broke off a branch of beautiful, silvery-green leaves, and presented it to Edith with a graceful bow.

"What can you make with the leaves?" he asked with a smile.

Edith looked at the branch thoughtfully for a moment.

"I know," she cried, "the victor's crown of olives!" and she clapped her hands together with delight. "See," she said to the chauffeur, "if you will reach the Golden Milestone in Rome by sunset, you shall have a crown of olive leaves."

She said it hesitatingly. The chauffeur was a quiet, business-like man, and Edith, with a child's judgment, supposed him to be too old to feel a single thrill of ambition.

Perhaps he was. Perhaps it was only the desire to give pleasure to the American girl that moved him to smile faintly and say, "Well! Well! We will see what our car can do; but it is not at all likely that we shall see Rome this night."

However, he began at once to increase the speed, carefully to be sure, but with purpose.

Edith turned to the task of plaiting a wreath of leaves. As her fingers twisted and arranged them to make the most of their dull green upper surfaces, she asked Rafael, "What of this Golden Milestone? I have never heard of it."

"It was a gilded stone set up in the old Roman Forum by the Emperor Augustus," Rafael replied. "He wished to make of the city a great trading center; and so he built many roads radiating from the Forum to all parts of ancient Italy. The distances of all the principal towns, measured from the city gates, were recorded on the golden stone. Although it is no longer there, its place is marked."

Edith was disappointed. "I thought I was going to see it," she said, twisting a leaf to show its gray under-side.

"There are so many other ruins from the days, of ancient Rome, that you will never miss the milestone," Rafael assured her.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"My mother has told me about them," he answered. "It was only by word of mouth that much of the earliest history of the world was made known, and I have learned it in the same way."

"It may not be the most 'up-to-date' fashion," said the girl, "but it is certainly more interesting. I wish you would try it now, and tell me something about the Eternal City."

The young Italian boy, who was making his first journey into the heart of his native land, felt his own heart expand with joy as he looked across the beautiful valleys to the distant blue mountains for inspiration.

"It was many hundred years before the birth of Christ that people first came into Italy," he said. "My mother told me that they wandered over here from Central Asia in search of good pastures for their flocks, but it was so many centuries ago that very little is known about them."

Edith pointed to a roughly thatched hut in a distant field, and asked, "Do you suppose they lived in huts like that?"

"Not at first," the boy answered. "It was a long time before they built even such good huts as that one. It was only little by little that they learned to clear the ground and cultivate it with rude tools; to make dishes out of clay and cook their food; to spin and weave the wool from their sheep, and to live under shelter.

"At first each family lived by itself, but after a time they began to form tribes and choose the strongest and bravest of their number for a chief. This chief governed them in times of peace and led them in their wars with other tribes, becoming their leader or king.

"There were many such tribes in Italy, and for centuries they lived here, waging constant warfare with each other and with other tribes and nations."

"Were there no civilized people in those days?" asked Edith.

"Yes," replied Rafael, "there were the people of Egypt and Greece; and some of the Grecians had already wandered over into Italy before the time of Romulus.

"When he ploughed a trench for the strong wall which was to be built for a fortification, Romulus ploughed around a great altar to the Greek god, Hercules."

"Who was Romulus?" interrupted Edith.

"It is said that he was the founder of the city of Rome," Rafael told her. "He was a son of Mars, the god of war, and he founded the city 753 years before the birth of Christ. There are some parts of his wall still standing. He lifted his plough over the places where the gates were to be built."

"Why, Rafael?"

"Because the ground where the walls would stand was made sacred, but the gateways would be profaned by the passing of many feet."

"How many gates were there?" Edith asked.

"Three; but please don't ask me their names, for I never learned them. There are many gates in the walls which now surround the city."

Edith put down her wreath and laughed with glee. "I'm glad there is something you never learned about Italian history," she said. "But tell me what it was like, this early city of Rome."

"Romulus chose a hill for the site of his village, and soon men from the neighboring tribes came to join him, so that the town grew large and prosperous and covered two hills instead of one.

"Those early Romans lived in rude huts. They made their tools of flint, bone and bronze, and their dishes of clay. Beside each house was a garden and sheepfold. Every morning the peasants went to their work on the farms, and the shepherds drove their little flocks outside the city walls. Arched gateways were built in the walls, and through these gates everyone entering or leaving the city was obliged to pass."

"Think of having sheep and cattle inside the city," exclaimed Edith. "I suppose they had to be protected from the wild animals."

"Yes," replied Rafael, "and from the hostile tribes who were always ready to steal them. There are many stories about those tribes, and about the kings who governed the city after Romulus died. Some of the kings made wise laws and ruled in peace, but others led armies to conquer the neighboring tribes, and added small territories to their kingdom."

"And I suppose each king tried to do something to make his name famous," said Edith.

"Not for that reason," Rafael replied. "He did it for the good of the city. Many of the roads and canals and temples which are now famous ruins, were built by some of those old kings.

"As Rome was on the River Tiber, fifteen miles from the sea, one king built a seaport at the mouth of the river, and a long straight road leading down to it, which was laid so solidly that it is still in use to-day.

"The valleys between the hills of Rome were wet and marshy. A king named Tarquin drained those marshes by building immense stone sewers. One of them was so large that several yoke of oxen could pass through it side by side, and the work was so well done that it is in good condition now, although it is more than twenty-four hundred years old.

"One marsh which the sewer drained was used as a market-place. Shop-keepers set their stalls up there; temples and public buildings were erected, and it became known as the Roman Forum."

"The very Forum where we are going?" asked Edith eagerly.

"Yes," replied Rafael, "the very Forum where Augustus, several hundred years later, set up the Golden Milestone."

"What else did those old Romans do?" asked Edith.

"They were fond of amusements," said Rafael. "One of the valleys between two of the hills was a good place for races and other games. On the sloping hillsides on each side of the valley, seats were built for thousands of spectators, and the place was called the Circus Maximus.

"The same king who built the sewers built also a strong fortress on the top of one of the hills. This fortress was called the Capitol, and the hill was called the Capitoline Hill. He also ordered that a wall should be built all around the seven hills to enclose the city, but it was not finished during his lifetime."

"Let us get out the map and look at it," suggested the girl, who had finished plaiting the olive wreath.

So the wreath was put away in the hamper, and the two heads were soon bending over a great map of Rome; and Rafael traced the lines of the old wall which Romulus built.

Just then Mrs. Sprague looked up at the sun. "It is time for lunch," she said, and began unpacking the lunch-basket, while the car rolled steadily nearer and nearer to the Roman Forum.