“Cadmus,” said the same voice which he had before heard, “throw a stone into the midst of the armed men.”

So Cadmus seized a large stone, and, flinging it into the middle of the earth army, saw it strike the breast-plate of a gigantic and fierce-looking warrior.  Immediately on feeling the blow, he seemed to take it for granted that somebody had struck him; and, uplifting his weapon, he smote his next neighbour a blow that cleft his helmet asunder, and stretched him on the ground.  In an instant, those nearest the fallen warrior began to strike at one another with their swords and stab with their spears.  The confusion spread wider and wider.  Each man smote down his brother, and was himself smitten down before he had time to exult in his victory.  The trumpeters, all the while, blew their blasts shriller and shriller; each soldier shouted a battle cry and often fell with it on his lips.  It was the strangest spectacle of causeless wrath, and of mischief for no good end, that had ever been witnessed; but, after all, it was neither more foolish nor more wicked than a thousand battles that have since been fought, in which men have slain their brothers with just as little reason as these children of the dragon’s teeth.  It ought to be considered, too, that the dragon people were made for nothing else; whereas other mortals were born to love and help one another.

Well, this memorable battle continued to rage until the ground was strewn with helmeted heads that had been cut off.  Of all the thousands that began the fight, there were only five left standing.  These now rushed from different parts of the field, and, meeting in the middle of it, clashed their swords, and struck at each other’s hearts as fiercely as ever.

“Cadmus,” said the voice again, “bid those five warriors to sheathe their swords.  They will help you to build the city.”

Without hesitating an instant, Cadmus stepped forward, with the aspect of a king and a leader, and extending his drawn sword amongst them, spoke to the warriors in a stern and commanding voice.

“Sheathe your weapons!” said he.

And forthwith, feeling themselves bound to obey him, the five remaining sons of the dragon’s teeth made him a military salute with their swords, returned them to the scabbards, and stood before Cadmus in a rank, eyeing him as soldiers eye their captain, while awaiting the word of command.

These five men had probably sprung from the biggest of the dragon’s teeth, and were the boldest and strongest of the whole army.  They were almost giants, indeed, and had good need to be so, else they never could have lived through so terrible a fight.  They still had a very furious look, and, if Cadmus happened to glance aside, would glare at one another, with fire flashing out of their eyes.  It was strange, too, to observe how the earth, out of which they had so lately grown, was incrusted, here and there, on their bright breastplates, and even begrimed their faces, just as you may have seen it clinging to beets and carrots when pulled out of their native soil.  Cadmus hardly knew whether to consider them as men, or some odd kind of vegetable; although, on the whole, he concluded that there was human nature in them, because they were so fond of trumpets and weapons, and so ready to shed blood.