II

Thence they came to the land of the Cyclopes, a rude and monstrous

tribe, but favoured of the immortal gods, by whose bounty they live.

They toil not, neither do they sow, nor till the ground, but the earth

of herself brings forth for them a bountiful living, wheat and barley,

and huge swelling clusters of the grape. Naught know they of law or

civil life, but each lives in his cave on the wild mountain-side,

dwelling apart, careless of his neighbours, with his wife and

children.

It was a dark, cloudy night, and a thick mist overspread the sea, when

suddenly Odysseus heard the booming of breakers on a rocky shore.

Before an order could be given, or any measure taken for the safety of

the ships, the little fleet was caught by a strong landward current,

and whirled pell-mell through a narrow passage between the cliffs into

a land-locked harbour. Drawing their breath with relief at their

wonderful escape, they beached their vessels on the level sand and lay

down to wait for the day.

In the morning they found that they had been driven to the landward

shore of a long island, which formed a natural breakwater to a

spacious bay, with a narrow entrance at either end. The island was

thickly covered with woods, giving shelter to a multitude of wild

goats, its only inhabitants. For the Cyclopes have no ships, so that

the goats were left in undisturbed possession, though the place was

well suited for human habitation, with a deep, rich soil, and

plentiful springs of water.

The first care of Odysseus was to supply the crews of his vessels,

which were twelve in number, with fresh meat. Armed with bows and

spears, he and a picked body of men scoured the woods in search of

game. They soon obtained a plentiful booty, and nine goats were

assigned to each vessel, with ten for that of Odysseus. So all that

day till the setting of the sun they sat and feasted on fat venison

and drank of the wine which they had taken in their raid on the

Thracians.

Early next morning Odysseus manned his own galley, and set forth to

explore the mainland, leaving the rest of the crews to await his

return on the island. As they drew near the opposite shore of the bay,

the mariners came in view of a gigantic cavern overshadowed by

laurel-trees. Round the front of the cavern was a wide court-yard

rudely fenced with huge blocks of stone and unhewn trunks of trees.

Having moored his vessel in a sheltered place, Odysseus chose twelve

of his men to accompany him on his perilous adventure, and charging

the others to keep close, and not stir from the ship, he prepared for

his visit to the Cyclops, who dwelt apart from his brethren in the

cavern. Amongst the spoils obtained in Thrace was a small store of

peculiarly rich and generous wine, which had been given him by a

priest of Apollo whom he had protected, with his wife and child, while

his men were pillaging the town. Twelve jars of this precious vintage

the priest brought forth from a secret hiding-place, known only to

himself and his wife and one trusty servant. So potent was the wine

that it needed but one measure of it to twenty of water to make a

fragrant and comfortable drink, from which few could refrain. Odysseus

now filled a great goatskin bottle with this wine, and carried it with

him. And well it was for him that he did so.

During the day the Cyclops was abroad, watching his flocks as they

grazed on the mountain pastures; so that when Odysseus and his men

came to the cavern, they had ample time to look about them. The

courtyard was fenced off into pens, well stocked with ewes and

she-goats, with their young--huge beasts, rivalling in stature their

gigantic shepherd. Within the cavern was a sort of dairy, with great

piles of cheeses, and vessels brimming with whey.

"Quick now," whispered one of the men to Odysseus. "Let us take of the

cheeses, and drive off the best of the lambs and kids to the ship

before the Cyclops returns; for methinks he will give us but sorry

welcome if he finds us here." "Nay," answered Odysseus, "I will wait

for the master, that I may see him face to face. It may be that he

will bestow on me some gift, such as strangers receive from their

hosts." So they remained, and having kindled a fire they prepared

savoury meat, and ate of the cheeses which they found in the cave.

Then they waited, until the lengthening shadows showed that evening

was drawing near.

While they sat thus, conversing in low tones, and casting fearful

glances towards the cavern's mouth, all at once they heard a sound

like the trampling of many feet, accompanied by loud bleatings, which

were answered by the ewes and she-goats in the courtyard. Then a vast

shadow darkened the cavern's entrance, and in came Polyphemus, driving

his flock before him. At the sight of that fearful monster, huge as a

mountain, with one vast red eye glaring in the middle of his forehead,

Odysseus and his comrades fled in terror to the darkest corner of the

cave. The Cyclops bore in one hand a mighty log for his evening fire.

Flinging it down with a crash that awakened all the echoes of the

cavern, he closed the entrance with an immense mass of stone, which

served as a door. Then he sat down and began to milk the ewes and

she-goats. Half of the milk he curdled for cheese, and half he kept

for drinking. So when he had strained off the whey, and pressed the

curds into wicker-baskets, he kindled a fire, and as the flame blazed

up, illumining every corner of the cavern, he caught sight of the

intruders, and with a voice which sounded like the roaring of a

torrent cried out: "Who are ye that have come to the cave of

Polyphemus, and what would ye have of him?"

When he heard that appalling voice, and looked at that horrible face,

fitfully lighted up by the blaze of the fire, Odysseus felt his heart

stand still with terror. Nevertheless he manned himself to answer, and

spake boldly thus: "We are Greeks, driven from our course in our

voyage from Troy, and brought by the winds and waves to these shores.

And we are they who have served Agamemnon, son of Atreus, whose fame

now fills the whole earth; so mighty was the city which he overthrew,

with all the host within her. And now we have come to kneel at thy

feet and beseech thee of thy favour to bestow on us some gift such as

strangers receive. Have pity on us, great and mighty as thou art, and

forget not that Zeus hath the stranger and the suppliant in his

keeping."

But there was no sign of pity or mercy in the Cyclops' face as he made

answer: "Thou art full simple, my friend, or unversed in the ways of

this land, if thou thinkest that I and my brethren care aught for Zeus

or any other god. Nay, we are mightier far than they, and if thou

seekest aught of me thou must seek it of my favour, and not of my

fears. But tell me truly, where didst thou moor thy vessel on thy

landing? Lies she near at hand, or on a distant part of the coast?"

Odysseus easily divined the purpose of Polyphemus in putting this

question, and answered accordingly: "My ship was wrecked on a distant

part of your coast, dashed all to pieces against the rocks; and I and

these twelve escaped by swimming."

Polyphemus made no reply, but sprang up and seized two of the men,

grasping them easily together in one hand, and dashed their brains out

against the rocky ground. Then he cut them in pieces and made his

supper on them. Fearful it was to see him as he ate, crunching up

flesh and bones and marrow all together, like a ravening lion. When he

had devoured the last morsel he took a deep draught of milk, and lay

down on the cavern floor among his flocks to sleep.

As soon as the heavy breathing of Polyphemus showed that he was fast

asleep, Odysseus crept from his corner, resolved to slay the cannibal

giant on the spot. He had already drawn his sword, when a sudden

thought made him pause. If he killed Polyphemus, how was he to escape

from the cavern? The entrance was blocked by that ponderous stone,

which a hundred men could not have moved; and he and his men must in

that case perish miserably of hunger and thirst. Restrained by this

reflection, he put up his sword, and went back to his companions to

wait for day.

Polyphemus rose early, and after milking his flocks he laid hold of

two more of the miserable captives, butchered them in the same manner,

and made his breakfast on their warm, quivering bodies. Then he drove

forth his sheep and goats, pushing aside the door of rock, and set it

back in its place, as a man sets the lid on a quiver. They heard his

wild cries, as he called to his flocks, and their loud bleatings as he

drove them out to pasture; then the sounds grew fainter and fainter,

and silence settled on the vast, shadowy cave.

Forthwith Odysseus began to devise means to escape from that murderous

den, and avenge the slaughter of his friends. As he peered about in

the twilight, he caught sight of a mighty stake of green olive-wood,

tall and stout as the mast of a twenty-oared galley,[1] which had been

cut by the Cyclops for a staff, and laid aside to season. Odysseus cut

off about a fathom's length, and with the help of his comrades made it

round and smooth, and tapered it off at one end to a point. Then he

hardened the sharp end in the fire, and when it was ready he hid the

rude weapon away under a pile of refuse. Of the twelve who had

followed him from the ship, there only remained eight; four of these

were chosen by lot to aid him in his plan of vengeance; and Odysseus

noted with satisfaction that they were the stoutest and bravest of the

company. All being now ready, they sat down to wait for the return of

Polyphemus.

[Footnote 1: Imitated, with characteristic amplification, by Milton,

"Paradise Lost," i. 292 (Satan's spear).]

The setting sun was pouring his level rays through the chinks of the

doorway when they heard the ponderous tread of the Cyclops

approaching. This time he drove the whole of his flocks into the cave,

leaving the courtyard empty. Having milked the herd, he laid hands on

two of Odysseus' comrades, and slaughtered and devoured them as

before. The moment had now come for Odysseus to carry out his design.

So he filled a wooden bowl with unmixed wine, and drawing near to

Polyphemus addressed him thus:

"Take, Polyphemus, and drink of this wine, now that thou hast eaten of

human flesh. I warrant that thou hast never tasted such a choice

vintage as this, and I brought it as a gift to thy divinity, that thou

mightest have pity, and let me go in peace. Little did I dream to find

thee so cruel and so wild. Who in all the world will ever draw near to

thee again, after the hideous deeds which thou hast wrought?"

Polyphemus took the cup and drained it to the bottom. Then he rolled

his great eye with ecstasy, as the last drop trickled down his

monstrous gullet, and holding out the cup said with a sort of growling

good humour: "Give me to drink again, and make haste and tell me thy

name, that I may bestow on thee a gift of hospitality to gladden thy

heart. I and my brethren have wine in plenty, for the earth gives us

of her abundance, and the soft rain of heaven swells the grape to

ripeness; but this is a drink divine, fit for the banquets of

Olympus."

Again the cup was filled, and yet a third time; and Polyphemus drank

out every drop. Before long his great head began to droop, and his eye

blinked mistily, like the red sun looming through a fog. Seeing that

the good wine was doing its work, Odysseus lost no time in telling his

name. "Thou askest how I am called," he said in cozening tones, "and

thou shalt hear, that I may receive the gift which thou hast promised

me. My name is Noman; so call me my father and my mother, and all my

friends." When he heard that, Polyphemus "grinned horribly a ghastly

smile," and answered: "This shall be thy gift: I will eat thee last of

all, for the sake of thy good wine."

With that he sank down backward on the floor, and lay like a

leviathan, with his head lolling sideways, and his mouth gaping,

buried in drunken sleep.

"Now is our time!" whispered Odysseus, and taking the sharpened stake

from its hiding place he thrust the point into the glowing embers of

the fire. As soon as he saw that the weapon was red hot and about to

burst into flame, he took it up, and gave it to his men. Then,

breathing a prayer to Heaven for strength and courage, they stole

softly to the place where the Cyclops lay. Odysseus clambered up to

the forehead of the Cyclops, holding on by his hair, and while the

others pressed the glowing point of the ponderous stake into the

monster's eye he whirled it round by means of a thong, as men turn an

auger to bore a ship's timber. The point hissed and sputtered as it

sank deep into the pulpy substance of the eye, and there was an acrid

smell of burning flesh, while the great shaggy eyebrow took fire, and

cracked like a burning bush. "It is a fine tempering bath for this

good spear of ours," muttered Odysseus, as he worked away at the

strap. "Temper it well--Polyphemus shall have it as a parting gift"

At first the Cyclops writhed and groaned in his sleep; then with a

roar as of a hundred lions he awoke, and started up to a sitting

posture, scattering his puny tormentors, who fled in wild haste, and

hid themselves in the angle of a projecting rock. Polyphemus rose

slowly to his feet, tore the stake from the empty eye-socket, and

flung it from him, still uttering his fearful cries. His brethren

heard him, and quitting their caverns, came flocking round his gate,

to see what had befallen. "What ails thee, Polyphemus," they asked,

"that thou makest this dreadful din, murdering our sleep? Is anyone

stealing thy sheep or thy goats? Or seeks anyone to slay thee by force

or by guile?"

"Friends," answered the afflicted giant, "Noman is slaying me by

guile, neither by force."

"Go to," replied his brethren, "if no man is using thee despitefully,

why callest thou to us? Thou art stricken, it seems, with some sore

disease: pray, then, to thy father Poseidon, and cumber us no more."

So away they went, growling at their broken sleep, and left their

blinded brother to roar alone.

Meanwhile Odysseus had been hard at work, taking measures to escape

with his comrades from the cave. Among the flocks of Polyphemus were

several big rams, with fleeces of remarkable thickness and beauty. Of

these he took three at a time, and lashed them together, side by side,

with osiers, which served Polyphemus for a bed. Each middle ram bore

one of the men firmly bound with osiers under his belly; while the two

outside rams served to conceal that living burden. Last of all

Odysseus provided for his own safety. There was one monster ram, the

leader of the flock, with a grand fleece which trailed on the ground,

like the leaves of the weeping ash. Him Odysseus reserved for himself,

and creeping under his belly hauled himself up until he was entirely

hidden by the drooping fleece, and so hung on steadfastly, waiting for

the day.

At last the weary vigil was over, the huge stone portal was rolled

aside, and the male sheep and goats went forth to pasture, while the

females remained in their pens, bleating and in pain, for they were

swollen with milk, and there was none to relieve them. As the rams

went past Polyphemus felt their backs, to see if the men were there;

but the simple monster never thought of feeling under their bellies.

Last in the train came the big ram, with Odysseus clinging underneath.

Then said Polyphemus, as his great hands passed over his back: "Dear

ram, why art thou the last to leave the cave? Thou wast never wont to

be a sluggard, but ever thou tookest the lead, walking with long

strides, whether thou wast cropping the tender, flowering grass, or

going down to the waterside, or returning at even to the fold. Surely

thou art heavy with sorrow for thy master's eye, which the villain

Noman and his pitiful mates have blinded. Would that thou hadst a

voice, to tell me where he is skulking from my fury! Then would I pour

forth his brains like water on the ground, and lighten my heart of the

woe which hath been brought upon me by the hands of this nithering[1]

Noman."

[Footnote 1: See Scott, "Ivanhoe."]

So saying he let the ram go, and as soon as he was clear of the

courtyard Odysseus dropped to the ground, and ran to loose his

comrades. With all speed they made their way down to the ship, driving

the rams before them, with many a fearful backward glance. Right glad

were their friends to see them again, though their faces fell when

they saw their numbers reduced by half. But there was no time for

regrets, for Polyphemus was already close upon them, groping his way

painfully from rock to rock. So they flung the sheep on board, shoved

off the vessel, and took to their oars. While they were still within

earshot Odysseus bade his men cease rowing, and standing up in the

stern called aloud to the Cyclops in mocking tones: "How likest thou

my gift for thy hospitality, my gentle host? Methinks thou art paid in

full, and canst not complain that I have not given thee good measure."

When he heard that, Polyphemus bellowed with rage, and tearing up a

great boulder from the side of the cliff he flung it with mighty force

in the direction of the voice. It fell into the sea right in front of

the ship, and raised a billow which washed her back to the shore.

Odysseus pushed her off with a long pole, and signalled to his men to

give way. They rowed for dear life, and had attained twice the former

distance from the shore when Odysseus stopped them again, though they

besought him earnestly to forego his rash purpose, and to refrain from

provoking Polyphemus more. But he, being exceeding wroth for the

murder of his men, would not be persuaded; and lifting up his voice he

spake again: "Cyclops, if anyone ask thee to whom thou owest the loss

of thine eye, say that it was Odysseus, the son of Laertes, who reft

thee of sight, and his home is in rocky Ithaca."

[Illustration: Odysseus and Polyphemus]

Now it happened that many a year back Polyphemus had heard a prophecy,

foretelling that he should one day be blinded by a certain Odysseus.

So when he heard that name he was stricken to the very heart, and

cried aloud: "This, then, is the fulfilment of the oracle! Verily I

thought that some tall and proper man would come hither to assail me,

but now I have been outwitted, made drunk, and blinded, by this

little, paltry wretch." After a pause he spoke again, thinking to

fight that man of many wiles with his own weapons. "Come hither,

Odysseus," he said, softening his big voice as well as he could, "that

I may entertain thee with loving-kindness; and afterwards I will pray

to Poseidon, whose son I am, to send a fair breeze for thy homeward

voyage. And he also shall heal my hurt, and give me back my sight."

Odysseus laughed aloud at the poor monster's simplicity, whereupon

Polyphemus lifted up his hands to heaven, and prayed to his sire, the

lord Poseidon: "Hear me, thou who holdest the earth in thine arms, if

I am indeed thy son. Grant me that Odysseus may never reach his home,

or if that is fixed beyond repeal, let him come home in evil plight,

with the loss of all his men, on a strange ship, to a house of

woe."[1]

[Footnote 1: Compare Dido's curse ("Stories from the Æneid," p. 84).]

Such was the curse of Polyphemus, to be fulfilled, as we shall see, to

the letter. And having uttered it he flung another rock, which fell

just short of the vessel's stern, and raised a wave which washed her

towards the island. Soon they reached the harbour where the rest of

the fleet lay moored. Joyful were the greetings of their comrades, who

had given them up for lost; and a merry feast they made on the flesh

of the fat sheep, though their mirth was checkered by sadness when

they thought of the brave six who had come to so horrible an end in

the Cyclops' cave.

After leaving the land of the Cyclopes they came next to the Æolian

island, where dwelt Æolus with his wife and twelve sons and daughters.

The island floated on the sea, and all around it tall cliffs ran sheer

down to the water, crowned on their summit by a wall of brass. Here

they remained a whole month, and were hospitably entertained by Æolus,

revelling in the abundance of his wealthy house, and whiling away the

time with music, and dance, and song, and brave stories of the Trojan

war. And when they departed he gave Odysseus a leathern bag, tied with

a silver cord, in which were confined all the winds that blow, except

only the good west wind, which he left free to blow behind them and

speed them on their way.

So for nine days and nights they sailed without let or hindrance, and

on the tenth they came in sight of Ithaca, which they approached so

near that they saw the smoke and flame of the beacon-fires along the

coast. Odysseus was worn out with watching, for during all the voyage

he had not closed his eyes, but had sat the whole time with his hand

on the sheet, and suffered no one to relieve him. But now within sight

of his native land he sank down in utter weariness, and fell into a

deep sleep.

That fatal moment of weakness led to a long train of disasters. His

men had long gazed with curious and jealous eyes at the mysterious

wallet, which they supposed to be full of gold and silver. As long as

Odysseus was on his guard they durst not give utterance to their

thoughts; but when they saw him overtaken by slumber they began to

murmur among themselves. And thus they spake one to another: "Behold

how this man is honoured and beloved whithersoever he goes! He left

Troy-land laden with booty, and thereto hath Æolus added this rich

treasure, while we must come home with empty hands. Go to, let us have

sight of all this gold and silver."

So waking folly prevailed over slumbering prudence. In a moment the

silver cord was loosened, and all the boisterous winds rushed forth

and bore them weeping and wailing far from their native land. Roused

by the tumult of the tempest, and the despairing cries of his men,

Odysseus sprang up, just in time to see the last glimpse of the hills

of Ithaca as they melted in the distance. His first impulse was to

fling himself into the sea and perish; but mastering his frenzy he

covered his face, and sat down in speechless misery, while the winds

bore them swiftly back to the isle of Æolus.

With a heavy heart Odysseus went up to the house where he had been

received so kindly, and told his sorrowful tale. "Pity my weakness,"

he pleaded, "and let me not suffer for the sins of my men." But Æolus

was not to be moved. "Begone," he said sternly, "quit this island at

once, thou caitiff! Heaven hath set the seal of its hatred upon thee,

and I may not give countenance to such as thou. Out of my sight!" he

thundered, and Odysseus crept sadly back to his ship.

Then for six days they voyaged on, toiling continually at the oar, for

now there was no favourable wind to waft them on. They were almost

dead with fatigue when they sighted land on the seventh day, and came

to anchor in a sheltered bay, surrounded on all sides by towering

cliffs, with a narrow entrance, guarded by a tall spire of rock on

either side The place was called Læstrygonia, and the nights in that

country are so short that the shepherd as he drives home his flocks at

sundown meets his fellow-toiler on his way to the pasture.

The cautious Odysseus moored his ship close to the entrance of the

harbour, while all the others came to anchor at the head of the bay

under the shadow of the cliffs; for there was not a wave, not a

ripple, in that sheltered spot, but the water slumbered, as in a

mountain tarn. Having secured his vessel, by making fast her cable to

the rocks, he scaled the cliff with a few of his men, and seeing smoke

rising in the distance he sent three scouts to explore the country,

meantime going back to his ship to await their return.

Sooner than he expected he saw two of the men descending the cliff in

headlong haste, and as they drew near he could read on their white,

terror-stricken faces what sort of news they had to bring. Their

report was as dismal as their looks. When they left the coast they

struck into a level road cut through the forest, and presently came to

a spring on the outskirts of a town. Here they met a maiden, drawing

water at the well, who told them that she was the daughter of

Antiphates, king of that country, and offered to conduct them to her

father's house. They went with her, and when she had brought them home

she left them to summon her father.

"As soon as we caught sight of him," continued he who was telling the

story, "we were stricken with terror, for he was of monstrous stature

and hideous to behold. One of us he seized, and rent him in pieces on

the spot; but we two fled for our lives. There is no time to lose. The

town is in uproar, and before long the whole cannibal tribe will be

upon us."

Hardly had he finished when a multitude of these huge savages was seen

rushing along the edge of the cliffs which overlooked the harbour.

Arming themselves with great rocks, they began to bombard the ships

which had taken the inside station; and a dreadful din arose of

shattered timbers, mingled with the cries of dying men. Not one ship

escaped destruction, and when that part of their work was ended the

barbarians swarmed down the cliffs, speared the floating corpses, and

dragged them to land for a cannibal feast.

All this time Odysseus and his crew had been helpless spectators of

this scene of massacre. But when they saw that all was over they cut

their cable, and taking to their oars rowed with might and main until

a wide space of open water divided them from that ill-fated shore,

where all their friends had found a grave.