herself with the bolt, but severed the knots and hemp bands tying her foot, as from the high mast she hung; off to the south winds and black clouds she sped in flight. Then quickly Eurytion, who had long held his bow ready and dart drawn, called upon his brother to hear his vow, marked the dove, now exulting in the free sky, and pierced her as she flapped her wings under a dark cloud. Down she fell dead, left her life amid the stars of heaven, and, falling, brought down the arrow that pierced her. Acestes alone was left, the prize now lost; yet upward into the air he aimed his bolt, displaying his veteran skill and the twanging of his bow. On this a sudden portent meets their eyes, destined to prove of mighty consequence, as momentous events revealed later, when in after years fear-inspiring seers declared its import.