There was, in the land of Thebes, a young man named Actaeon, who was handsome and athletic. Actaeon did well at all sports, but loved nothing more than hunting the fleet deer across the hills and through the forests with his pack of well-trained, merciless hounds.

It was said that Actaeon had trained his hounds so well that they had only to see a deer, or catch its scent on the wind, and they would chase after and bring it down as surely as if they were a pack of wolves.

Perhaps that is why, when Actaeon and his friends went hunting for deer one hot summer day, they ended their hunt before noon.

“We’ve all the meat we need,” Actaeon declared. “Let’s relax, now, in these quiet woods and enjoy our lunch!”

With that, they loosened the strings of their bows and opened the packets that held food and wine, then lay on the soft, mossy ground under the trees, in the dappled sunshine of the forest.

When they had finished eating, Actaeon’s friends stretched out for a nap, lying on the ground like his hounds and dozing quietly.

Actaeon, too, tried to sleep, but found himself awake and becoming bored. He decided to take a walk, for this was a part of the forest where he had never hunted before. He was curious to see what else was there.

He got up quietly and left the clearing, moving so softly that even his hounds did not follow, but simply raised their heads and watched him go, then lay back down to sleep some more.

But Actaeon and his friends were not the only hunters enjoying the forest on that warm summer day.

On the other side of the mountain was a company of immortals led by Diana, the goddess of the moon and the hunt.

Diana was tall, lovely and athletic, which is not surprising, since she was the twin sister of Apollo. And like her brother, she never missed when she aimed her arrows.

Diana, too, was finished hunting for the day.

She and her servants, the naiads of the ponds and the dryads of the forest, went to a favourite pond where the water was cool and refreshing, and where their privacy was protected by thick bushes.

Diana unstrung her bow and laid it on the ground, then hung her quiver of arrows on a low-hanging branch. One of the dryads put the long hair of the goddess up carefully, to keep it out of the water as she bathed, and a naiad helped her out of her hunting dress as she slipped into the cool water of the pond.

Soon, the naiads and dryads had joined their mistress in swimming around the pool, washing away the perspiration of their morning hunt and enjoying the fresh water under the warm, noonday sun.

As Actaeon rambled through the forest, he suddenly heard the tinkle of laughter and paused, listening. Soon after, he also began to hear the voices of young women.

Actaeon the casual hiker suddenly became Actaeon the skilled hunter as he changed his pace to a silent, stealthy creep, edging his way over a ridge towards the sounds. He kept low as he came over the top of the ridge until he was sure he would not be seen against the sky, then moved quietly down towards the bushes from which the laughter and talking came. And now, Actaeon could also hear splashing, and he moved even more silently.

Actaeon crept through the bushes to the edge of the water, but, as he parted the last few branches to see, one of the dryads saw the motion and screamed.

Immediately, the dryads and naiads gathered around their mistress to shelter her from the spy, but she was so much taller that Actaeon could see her face flush red, first with embarrassment, and then with anger.

Diana glanced to her bow and arrows, but they were out of reach at the other side of the pond. Instead, she scooped a handful of water and flung it over Actaeon.

“There, mighty hunter!” she said, her eyes flashing with fury. “Go back to your friends and brag to them of what you have seen — if you can!”

Startled, Actaeon turned and ran, swiftly bounding over the rocks and fallen trees in his path, and, as he ran, he was surprised at how fast he moved, and how easily, until, as he leapt over a small pond, he saw his reflection in the water.

His arms and legs had grown slim, his hands and feet were now black hooves. His neck had grown long, his ears large, and from his head there had sprung antlers. As he approached the clearing where he had left his friends, Actaeon tried to call out to them, but found that his voice was now silent.

He burst into the clearing, but his friends saw only a large deer, and did not know it was their friend.

Actaeon’s hounds also saw nothing but a deer, a deer which looked back at them with sudden dread as he saw them eagerly leap to their feet and prepare to do exactly what their master had so carefully trained them to do.