Apollo was pleased with the place which he had chosen for a home; for there he found rest and quiet, and neither the hum of labor nor the din of battle was likely ever to enter.  One thing, however, must needs be done before he could have perfect peace.  There lived near the foot of the mountain a huge serpent called Python, which was the terror of all the land.  Oftentimes, coming out of its den, this monster attacked the flocks and herds, and sometimes even their keepers; and it had been known to carry little children and helpless women to its den, and there devour them.

The men of the place came to Apollo, and prayed him to drive out or destroy their terrible enemy.  So, taking in hand his silver bow, he sallied out at break of day to meet the monster when it should issue from its slimy cave.  The vile creature shrank back when it saw its radiant enemy, and would fain have hidden itself in the deep gorges of the mountain.  But Apollo quickly launched a swift arrow at it, crying, “Thou bane of man, lie thou upon the earth, and enrich it with thy dead body!” The never-erring arrow sped to the mark; and the great beast died, wallowing in its gore.  And the people in their joy came out to meet the archer, singing paeans in his praise.  They crowned him with wild flowers and wreaths of olives, and hailed him as the Pythian king; and the nightingales sang to him in the groves, and the swallows and cicadas twittered and tuned their melodies in harmony with his lyre.

But as yet there were no priests in Apollo’s temple; and he pondered, long doubting, as to whom he should choose.  One day he stood upon the mountain’s topmost peak, whence he could view all Greece and the seas around it.  Far away in the south, he spied a little ship sailing from Crete to sandy Pylos; and the men who were on board were Cretan merchants.

“These men shall serve in my temple!” he cried.

Upward he sprang, and high he soared above the sea; then swiftly descending like a fiery star, he plunged into the waves.  There he changed himself into the form of a dolphin, and swam with speed to overtake the vessel.

Long before the ship had reached Pylos, the mighty fish came up with it, and struck its stern.  The crew were dumb with terror, and sat still in their places; their oars were motionless; the sail hung limp and useless from the mast.  Yet the vessel sped through the waves with the speed of the wind, for the dolphin was driving it forward by the force of his fins.  Past many a headland, past Pylos and other pleasant harbors, they hastened.  Vainly did the pilot try to land at each favorable place:  the ship would not obey her helm.  They rounded the headland of Araxus, and came into the long bay of Crissa; and there the dolphin left off guiding the vessel, and swam playfully around it, while a brisk west wind filled the sail, and bore the voyagers safely into port.

Then the dolphin changed into the form of a glowing star, which, shooting high into the heavens, lit up the whole world with its glory; and as the awe-stricken crew stood gazing at the wonder, it fell with the quickness of light upon Mount Parnassus.  Into his temple Apollo hastened, and there he kindled an undying fire.  Then, in the form of a handsome youth, with golden hair falling in waves upon his shoulders, he hastened to the beach to welcome the Cretan strangers.