Hercules was not yet outdone, though. He laughed in scorn at the
serpent. While he was still in his cradle, Hercules had strangled two
serpents, and he had met a Hydra with a hundred heads that he had cut
off. He was not in the least afraid of the river-god in the form of a
serpent, but gripped the creature by the back of its neck, ready to
strangle it.
Acheloues struggled in vain to escape, and at last tried his magic arts
again. In a second the serpent had changed its form to that of a
bellowing ferocious bull. With its horns lowered, it charged upon
Hercules.
But Hercules was still unvanquished. He seized hold of the bull's
horns, bent its head, grasped its brawny neck, and throwing it down
buried the horns in the ground. Then he broke off one of the horns
with his iron strong hand, and held it up in the air, shouting,
"Victory! The princess is mine!"
Acheloues returned to his own shape, and, crying with pain, ran from
the castle grounds where the combat had taken place, and did not stop
until he had plunged into a cooling stream.
It had been right that Hercules should triumph, for his was strength
of arm, not that of trickery. Deianira stood by his side, and the
goddess of plenty came forward to give the conqueror his reward.
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