“I can go no farther,” said Phoenix.  “It is a mere foolish waste of life, to spend it, as we do, in always wandering up and down, and never coming to any home at nightfall.  Our sister is lost, and never will be found.  She probably perished in the sea; or, to whatever shore the white bull may have carried her, it is now so many years ago, that there would be neither love nor acquaintance between us should we meet again.  My father has forbidden us to return to his palace; so I shall build me a hut of branches, and dwell here.”

“Well, son Phoenix,” said Telephassa, sorrowfully, “you have grown to be a man, and must do as you judge best.  But, for my part, I will still go in quest of my poor child.”

“And we three will go along with you!” cried Cadmus and Cilix, and their faithful friend Thasus.

But, before setting out, they all helped Phoenix to build a habitation.  When completed, it was a sweet rural bower, roofed overhead with an arch of living boughs.  Inside there were two pleasant rooms, one of which had a soft heap of moss for a bed, while the other was furnished with a rustic seat or two, curiously fashioned out of the crooked roots of trees.  So comfortable and homelike did it seem, that Telephassa and her three companions could not help sighing, to think that they must still roam about the world, instead of spending the remainder of their lives in some such cheerful abode as they had here built for Phoenix.  But, when they bade him farewell, Phoenix shed tears, and probably regretted that he was no longer to keep them company.

However, he had fixed upon an admirable place to dwell in.  And by and by there came other people, who chanced to have no homes; and, seeing how pleasant a spot it was, they built themselves huts in the neighbourhood of Phoenix’s habitation.  Thus, before many years went by, a city had grown up there, in the centre of which was seen a stately palace of marble, wherein dwelt Phoenix, clothed in a purple robe, and wearing a golden crown upon his head.  For the inhabitants of the new city, finding that he had royal blood in his veins, had chosen him to be their king.  The very first decree of state which King Phoenix issued was, that if a maiden happened to arrive in the kingdom, mounted on a snow-white bull, and calling herself Europa, his subjects should treat her with the greatest kindness and respect, and immediately bring her to the palace.  You may see, by this, that Phoenix’s conscience never quite ceased to trouble him, for giving up the quest of his dear sister, and sitting himself down to be comfortable, while his mother and her companions went onward.

But often and often, at the close of a weary day’s journey, did Telephassa and Cadmus, Cilix and Thasus, remember the pleasant spot in which they had left Phoenix.  It was a sorrowful prospect for these wanderers, that on the morrow they must again set forth, and that, after many nightfalls, they would perhaps be no nearer the close of their toilsome pilgrimage than now.  These thoughts made them all melancholy at times, but appeared to torment Cilix more than the rest of the party.  At length, one morning, when they were taking their staffs in hand to set out, he thus addressed them: