What a strange word Zoroaster seems to you. If one of my boys looks up from his book to ask me what it means, I say, "Oh, he was an ancient Persian, and he wrote the Zendavesta. You might have had Zendavesta for your copy."

But after I have told that, neither you nor I know much about him, do we? And here is this boy, Darius, who has heard of Zoroaster as often as you have heard of George Washington, and who almost every day during his boyhood learns some of the words of this great teacher.

Before I can introduce you to this Persian boy's home, I must explain that at the time Kablu came down to the Indus it seemed as if all the mountain tribes were moved by one great impulse to leave their homes and journey westward, down the mountains.

Down the mountains and into the plain poured the long line of travellers. For many moons you might have watched them coming, and you would say, "The mountain land must have been full of men."

But you may readily believe that these thoughtful people knew better than to stay all together when they reached the plain. Southward to the Indus went Kablu with his father and many others; but westward over the grand table-land of Iran went others, and some still more enterprising, young people and strong, and longing for a sight of the great world, pushed still farther until they reached the shores of the Black Sea.

"What shall we do now?" said Deradetta, the leader of the band.

"We will divide," cried the young men. "Half of us will skirt the shores to the north, half to the south; so shall we find larger lands and make greater conquests."

So Deradetta led his band to the south, and Kalanta to the north, and before they parted, Deradetta called them all together, and said, "Perhaps we are parting forever. Do not let us forget the traditions of our fathers. Give us, O, Agni, brave comrades, happy abundance, noble children, and great wealth."

Then, at the dawn of the next day, Kalanta and his party turned away to the northward, and Deradetta turned southward, but perhaps, by and by, their great-great-grandchildren may find each other again.

And we shall not be surprised to hear that when the family of Darius reached the land of Persia, they found people who had built towns and even cities, and the new comers naturally feared that they might be enemies.

As they approached the first village, a man in a long robe woven of wool, and with loose, flowing sleeves, came out to meet them. Pointing to the horses that the leaders rode, he said Aspa, their own name for horse, and then, noticing the sacred fire which they carried always with them, he bent his head reverently.

"Do you also," asked they, "serve the Father of Light and Life, and, if so, who has taught you to worship thus?"

And the man understood their words, if not perfectly, at least well enough to comprehend their meaning, and he answered,—

"Our fathers, many, many moons ago, came down from the distant mountains, bringing with them the sacred fire. They taught us the worship of the Father of Light and Life."

And the travellers, overjoyed, replied:—

'"Our fathers too came from the mountain land, and we are your brothers; we will live together in peace in this new land."

Now I must tell you that the earliest settlers had given themselves the name of Medes, and the new-comers were called Persians.

And I leave you to imagine how they lived together many years. At first the Medes were rulers and the Persians subjects, but, by and by, a great and wise Persian named Cyrus became king, and it was at that time that Darius, the boy of our story, lived.

And Darius had for his friend Zadok, a dark-eyed Hebrew boy whom he found by the river side one day and took for his companion, until they were forever parted by—but I must not tell that now, I must begin at the beginning, that you may understand what Darius was doing when he found Zadok.

I shall have to take you to the great city of Babylon,—a wonderful city, with high walls and gates, palaces and gardens and temples. There were golden shrines and images adorned with gems. There were tables and chairs with feet of gold and silver; and indeed I can hardly tell you how magnificent the city was, as it stood, like a great gorgeous jewel, on the plain. The broad river Euphrates flowed through it, and the date-trees grew upon its borders, and wild pears and peaches ripened in its sunny valley. Shouldn't you like to live where peaches grow wild? But you will wonder what this city of Babylon had to do with Darius.

Why, he went to live there with his father and mother, and many other Persian families, because his great king, Cyrus, had conquered Babylon and taken it for his own.

And now I want you to wake very early, before dawn, and get up quickly, as Kablu did when he lived among the mountains, and come with Darius to an open field just outside the city gates.

In the dim light you will see many other boys, all hastening towards the same place. Their dresses are of leather,—a sort of tunic and trousers; they do not easily wear out, and the fashion never changes.

Each boy carries a bow and a quiver of arrows, excepting the little boys of five or six years, who have only slings and stones.

See, they are all together now in the field, ranged in ranks before an officer. This is their school. Do you want to know what they learn?

You may look about in vain for a programme of studies, for not one of them—scholars or even teachers—can write, but their programme is so simple that when once Darius tells it to us we cannot forget it. Here it is—

That was all. Shall we stay awhile and see how well the lessons are learned? Here is the youngest class—little boys only five years old. I think we should teach the little fellows that it is wrong to throw stones; but, see, they are standing in a row, each with a smooth pebble in his sling, and one after another they throw as far and as straight as they can. Then, while they go for more stones, the next class has a lesson in shooting with the bow and throwing the javelin.

After the little boys have come back and practised with their slings, and you have seen their running class, I want you to wait for the class to which Darius belongs.

He has learned the use of the sling, and the bow and the javelin; and ever since he was seven years old he has been on horseback every day: but that is not enough, he doesn't know how to ride yet,—at least so thinks his master.

The boys take their javelins and stand in a row; a gate is opened, and horses, with loose bridles and flowing manes, gallop into the field. Each boy must spring upon the back of one of these galloping horses. Many the falls and many the failures, but success at last, and presently you see Darius coursing swiftly over the field, and one by one the others follow him. A target is fastened to the old oak there at the right. As they pass it at full gallop, each one throws his javelin at the mark, and day by day they practise until there are no failures; sometimes with the javelin, sometimes with the bow and arrows, but always at full speed and with unerring aim. And do you notice that some of the arrow-heads are of iron, while others are of bronze? I told you it wouldn't be long before these people would find out iron.

After the riding is ended, see the boys again before their master. He stands in front of them with a quiet, reverend look on his face, and says,—

"Listen to the teachings of Zoroaster. It is written in the holy Zendavesta, 'There are two spirits, the Good and the Base. Choose one of these spirits in thought, in word, and deed.

"'Be good, not base.  The good is holy, true; to be honored through truth, through holy deeds.

"'You cannot serve both.' "

And the boys repeated after him,—

"Be good, not base. The good is holy, true, to be honored through truth, through holy deeds. You cannot serve both."

Isn't that a good lesson for them? A good lesson for you and me too.

After this the young children go to their homes, but Darius and others of his age are also to hunt to-day. The plains away to the north are the home of the antelopes, and the boys will ride miles and miles in pursuit of them.

Did you notice that Darius didn't have his breakfast before going to school, and he hasn't had it yet, but that doesn't trouble him. One meal a day is all he ever thinks of taking, and if he is very much occupied with hunting, or has a long march to make, it is often one meal in two days instead of one.

To night the boys will sleep in the field, to be ready for an early start in the morning; and before the stars are dimmed by the first light of dawn you will find them at the ford of the river, preparing to cross.

Their bows and arrows are at their backs, but their captain has given the order, "Cross this stream without allowing your weapons to get wet," and see how the boys have placed both bows and quivers on their heads, stepped fearlessly into the water, taken each other's hands in mid-stream, where the current is swiftest, to save themselves from being swept off their feet, and reached the opposite shore safely and well.