Theophano

Towards the close of the long reign of Constantine Porphyrogennetus, seventh of that historic name, a hunting-party from the royal capital of Constantinople was occupied in chasing the wild boar on the slopes of Mount Damatrys on the Asian side of the Bosphorus. This mountain, now called Bulgarlu, lay a few miles eastward of Chrysopolis, the modern town of Scutari, opposite the Golden Horn. In the middle of the tenth century of our era, when this story opens, the view from the mountain on the Asian side of the Bosphorus was, indeed, very different from that which delights the traveller to-day, but it was hardly less beautiful in its exquisite union of wood, sea, rocky headland, stately towers, and domes.The sun was hardly risen over the eastern hills in a fresh morning of spring—it was the year of our Lord, 956—when a body of huntsmen, some on foot and some on mountain-ponies, were seen hastily emerging from the dense copse of the forest in the early dawn. Clothed in short, leather jerkins and banded leggings, with close skull-caps, some carried lances, some bows and arrows: three held in leash powerful hounds, and others were bearing stout nets and poles. They were evidently returning home in haste and with anxiety painted in all their movements. A mounted man of some authority now pushed his way to the front and bade them seek for the nearest house where help and shelter could be obtained. Coming at last to a woodman's half-ruined hut, he struck his hunting-spear thrice against the rude door of the hovel, and imperiously asked if any man was within. A scared, half-clothed old man unbolted the entrance, and stood with bare head, trembling before his questioner.