When the River saw that Asteropaeus was dead, and that Achilles was slaying many of the Paeonians—­for these were troubled, their chief being dead—­he took upon him the shape of a man, and spake to Achilles, saying, “Truly, Achilles, thou excellest all other men in might and deeds of blood, for the Gods themselves protect thee.  It may be that Zeus hath given thee to slay all the sons of Troy; nevertheless, depart from me and work thy will upon the plain; for my stream is choked with the multitude of corpses, nor can I pass to the sea.  Do thou, therefore, cease from troubling me.”

To him Achilles made answer, “This shall be as thou wilt, O Scamander.  But the Trojans I will not cease from slaying till I have driven them into their city and have made trial of Hector, whether I shall vanquish him or he shall vanquish me.”

And as he spake he sped on, pursuing the Trojans.  Then the River cried to Apollo, “Little thou doest the will of thy father, thou of the Silver Bow, who bade thee stand by the men of Troy and help them till darkness should cover the land.”  And he rushed on with a great wave, stirring together all his streams.  The dead bodies he threw upon the shore, roaring as a bull roareth; and them that lived he hid in the depths of his eddies.  And all about Achilles rose up the flood, beating full upon his shield, so that he could not stand fast upon his feet.  Then Achilles laid hold of a lime-tree, fair and tall, that grew upon the bank; but the tree brake therefrom with all its roots, and tare down the bank, and lay across the River, staying its flood, for it had many branches.  Thereupon Achilles leapt out of the water and sped across the plain, being sore afraid.  But the River ceased not from pursuing him, that he might stay him from slaughter and save the sons of Troy.  So far as a man may throw a spear, so far did Achilles leap; strong as an eagle was he, the hunting-bird that is the strongest and swiftest of all birds.  And still as he fled the River pursued after him with a great roar.  Even as it is with a man that would water his garden, bringing a stream from a fountain; he has a pick-axe in his hand to break down all that would stay the water; and the stream runs on, rolling the pebbles along with it, and overtakes him that guides it.  Even so did the River overtake Achilles, for all that he was swift of foot, for indeed the Gods are mightier than men.  And when Achilles would have stood against the River, seeking to know whether indeed all the Gods were against him, then the great wave smote upon his shoulders; and when he leapt into the air, it bowed his knees beneath him and devoured the ground from under his feet.  Then Achilles looked up to heaven and groaned, crying out, “O Zeus, will none of the Gods pity me, and save me from the River?  I care not what else may befall me.  Truly my mother hath deceived me, saying that I should perish under the walls of Troy by the arrows of Apollo.  Surely it had been better that Hector should slay me, for he is the bravest of the men of Troy, but now I shall perish miserably in the River, as some herd-boy perisheth whom a torrent sweeps away in a storm.”