danger having passed away. In the spring of 339 B.C. the King met with another disaster. He had plunged into the wilds of Scythia, north of the Danube, and had carried off a vast booty of flocks and herds from the barbarous people; but on his return through Thrace he was attacked by the Triballi, one of the fiercest and most warlike of the tribes of that dangerous region. We know what it is for a regular and well-equipped army to have to march through an intricate and hostile country. The king of Macedon, encumbered as he was with spoil, was taken at a disadvantage, and if not actually defeated, he was at least worsted, lost his plunder, and was himself badly wounded. Thus the year 339 B.C. seemed one of good omen for Athens and for Greece. And thanks to the vigorous efforts of Demosthenes in the way of naval reform, the Athenian fleet was now supreme in the Ægean.
Meanwhile a new sacred war in behalf of the god and temple of Delphi was unfortunately breaking out. It arose out of incidents which may seem to us comparatively trifling. An Amphictyonic Council had assembled at Delphi in the autumn of 340 B.C., and Athens was represented by Æschines. The fruitful plain of Crisa, stretching inland from the Gulf of Corinth to the town of Amphissa, under the mountains of Parnassus, was the consecrated possession of the Delphic god. It was holy ground, and to till or to plant it had been forbidden with a tremendous curse. Part of it, however, adjacent to the town and port of Cirrha, had, almost with the sanction of Greek opinion, been occupied and brought into cultivation for a long
