Lightly armed and equipped, the stout-hearted pair passed out of the
light of the watchfires, and set their faces towards the Trojan camp.
Just as they were starting they heard the cry of a heron flying on the
right, and Odysseus was glad, for he knew it was a sign sent by Athene,
promising success to their journey. Murmuring a prayer, they stepped
forward boldly, like two lions bound on a midnight foray, and crossed
the battlefield of yesterday, over corpses and broken armour and pools
of blood. Suddenly Odysseus came to a halt, and laying his hand on
Diomede's arm whispered: "I hear a footstep as of one coming this way,
whether to spy out our camp, or to plunder the dead, I know not. Let
us allow him to go by us, and then spring upon him as he passes."
Crouching down among the heaps of slain, they waited until the man had
passed in the direction of the ships, and then leapt from their ambush
and gave chase. When he heard them he hesitated a moment, doubting
whether they were friends or foes; then, recognising them as Greeks, he
bounded away at full speed, Odysseus and Diomede following hard behind,
like two hounds on the track of a doe or hare. But the fellow was a
fleet runner, and would have been fairly driven into the hands of the
Greek sentinels, if Diomede had not raised his spear, and sent it
whizzing close to the ear of the fugitive, crying as he did so: "Halt!
whoever thou art, or my next cast shall bring thee down."
Then the wretch was afraid, and stood still, in obedience to the
summons, with knees knocking together and chattering teeth; and the two
Greeks ran up, panting for breath, and seized him by the arms. Weeping
with terror he began to beg for his life. "Make me your prisoner," he
faltered, "and I will pay you a heavy ransom, for my father's house is
full of silver and gold, and vessels of iron,[1] choicely wrought, and
he will pay you a heavy price when he hears that I am alive."
[1] Iron was scarce and highly prized among the Homeric Greeks.
"Have no fears for thy life," said Odysseus; "only answer me truly, and
thou art safe. Why art thou wandering here in the dead of night? Art
thou on an adventure of thine own, or did Hector send thee to spy out
the Grecian camp?"
"It was Hector who beguiled me to commit this folly," answered the
captive, whose name was Dolon; "for he bribed me with a great bribe,
promising to give me the steeds of Peleus' haughty son, if I would go
down to the fleet, and bring back information whether you were
preparing to fly from our shores in the night."
"Thou art ambitious, I see," replied Odysseus, smiling. "Bold must be
thy heart, and firm thy hand, if thou wouldst drive the steeds of
Æacides, which are of no mortal breed. But tell me now, and answer me
truly, where is Hector stationed in the Trojan camp, and in what order
have the others pitched their tents?"
"Hector and the chiefs," answered Dolon, still shaking with mortal
dread, "have their quarters by the tomb of Ilus, and round them lie the
native Trojans, keeping good watch. The allies are encamped about
them, in no fixed order, and they are all asleep. On the very
outskirts of the camp lie the Thracians, and Rhesus their king; and if
ye are minded to make an onfall on their leaguer ye may do it in
safety, and win a rare prize. For Rhesus hath a pair of milk-white
coursers, unmatched in strength and speed, and a car richly adorned
with silver and gold. Likewise he hath a suit of golden armour, fit
for the gods to wear. And all this ye may win without a blow. Now
leave me in the custody of your comrades, or bind me fast here, that ye
may know when ye return whether I have spoken the truth."
But that night was to afford a second instance of broken faith, hardly
less infamous than the first. Having tempted this poor caitiff to
betray his comrades by promising him his life, they now gave him the
traitor's wage. "Thou must die, Dolon," said Diomede coldly, "for all
thy good news. Thou art a foe, delivered into our hands, and thou
shalt never spy upon us or fight with us again." Dolon clung to him
with cries of anguished entreaty, pleading for his life; but Diomede,
with one downward stroke of his sword, swept off his head, which
rolled, with lips still moving, in the dust. Then stripping off his
armour, he hung it in a tamarisk tree, and, having marked the place,
went forward with Odysseus in the direction of the Thracian camp.
When they came to the quarters of Rhesus, they found him lying in the
midst of his men, with his famous steeds standing near, tethered to
their car. All the troop was sleeping heavily, for they were newly
arrived at Troy, and had travelled far and fast the day before. "There
he is," whispered Odysseus, "and these are his steeds, a glorious pair!
Now to work! Slay me a score of these sluggards while I loose the
steeds."
Thereupon Diomede drew his sword, and struck right and left like a
headsman, until he had slain some dozen of the sleeping Thracians; and,
as he proceeded, Odysseus dragged the slaughtered men out of the way,
to make a path for the horses, which were young, and unused to such
sights. Diomede's last victim was the giant Rhesus, who was breathing
heavily, and dreaming of his home; but a Grecian blade cut short his
dreams, and his fleet coursers now found a new master. While Diomede
was thus busy, Odysseus untethered the steeds, and coupling them
together by their harness drove them out of the camp, striking them
with a bow which he carried; for he had forgotten to take up the whip.
Diomede still lingered, meditating some final act of daring, to crown
the night's adventure. Beneath him lay the corpse of Rhesus, and his
golden armour, and he was hesitating whether to take these, or slay a
few more Thracians, when Odysseus gave a low whistle, warning him that
it was time to be going. The next moment he heard the sound of
hurrying footsteps, and, perceiving that the alarm had been given, he
joined Odysseus, and mounting one of the horses seized the other by the
bridle, and rode at a rapid trot towards the sea. Odysseus ran by his
side, holding on by the harness, for he was no rider,[2] but a swift
and enduring runner.
[2] Riding was little practised among the Homeric heroes.
They had no sooner departed than a wild commotion arose behind them in
the awakened Thracian camp, but increasing their pace they soon reached
the spot where they had left the unhappy Dolon, and, having paused for
a moment to take up his armour, they hurried forward, and before long
they were within hail of the Grecian outposts, where the whole company
of the leaders was still assembled, anxiously awaiting their return.
Nestor was the first to hear the sound of the horses' feet, and
thinking that the Trojans were attacking he ran to raise the alarm.
But he was soon reassured when he heard the voice of Diomede, followed
a moment later by the arrival of the hardy adventurers with their
splendid booty. Joyful were the greetings on both sides, and when the
story of that great exploit had been briefly told they all dispersed to
their quarters, to snatch a few hours of sleep before the toils of the
coming day.