Could he not see the danger he had run?
They would certainly tell his grandfather, that they would.

Cyrus, who had dismounted, stood quite still and listened ruefully, hanging his head while they rated him.

But in the middle of it all he heard the view-halloo again: he sprang to his horse as though frenzied--a wild-boar was charging down on them, and he charged to meet it, and drawing his bow with the surest aim possible, struck the beast in the forehead, and laid him low.

[9] But now his uncle thought it was high time to scold his nephew himself; the lad's boldness was too much.

Only, the more he scolded the more Cyrus begged he would let him take back the spoil as a present for his grandfather.
To which appeal, says the story, his uncle made reply: "But if your grandfather finds out that you have gone in chase yourself, he will not only scold you for going but me for letting you go." "Well, let him whip me if he likes," said the boy, "when once I have given him my beasts: and you too, uncle," he went on, "punish me however you choose, only do not refuse me this." So Cyaxares was forced to yield:--"Have it your own way then, you are little less than our king already." [10] Thus it was that Cyrus was allowed to bring his trophies home, and in due course presented them to his grandfather.