Chapter 9 No.9

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,8 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.

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 nithering9 Noman."

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."

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."10

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 ?olian island, where dwelt ?olus 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 ?olus, 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 ?olus 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 ?olus.

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 ?olus 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 L?strygonia, 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.