sleep."

Vengeance, indeed, was already prepared. Helios received prompt news
of the sacrilege from one of the nymphs who had charge of his flocks
and herds, and hastened to Olympus to demand speedy punishment for the
transgressors, vowing that if they escaped he would leave the earth in
darkness and carry the lamp of day to the nether world. Zeus promised
that the retribution should be swift and complete, and Helios
thereupon returned immediately to his daily round, knowing full well
that the father of gods would keep his word.

When Odysseus entered the camp he rebuked his men bitterly for their
impiety. But no words, and no repentance, could now repair the
mischief; the cattle were slain, and in that very hour dire portents
occurred, to show them the enormity of their crime. A strange moaning
sound, like the lowing of kine, came from the meat on the spits, and
the hides of the slaughtered beasts crawled and writhed.

In spite of these dreadful omens they continued for six days to feast
upon the herds of Helios. On the seventh day the wind blew fair, and
they launched their vessel and continued their voyage. The last
vestige of the island had hardly been lost to view when the sky became
black with clouds, and a violent squall struck the ship, snapping her
mast, which fell upon the helmsman, and dashed out his brains. A
moment after, a deafening peal of thunder broke overhead, and the
avenging bolt of Zeus fell upon the ship, scattering her timbers, and
strewing the charred carcasses of the crew upon the waves.

Odysseus alone escaped with his life from that tremendous stroke, and
clinging to a spar floated all day, until he came in sight of the
strait between Scylla and Charybdis. By the favour of heaven he was
once more preserved from this great peril, and on the tenth day after
the loss of his vessel he was thrown ashore by the waves on the island
of Calypso.

Odysseus lands in Ithaca

I

The last farewell has been spoken, the good ship is loosed from her
moorings, and Alcinous is standing on the quay, surrounded by the
nobles of Phaeacia, to bid his illustrious guest god-speed. The picked
crew bend to their oars, and the galley leaps forward, like a mettled
steed who knows his master's voice. The setting sun is just gilding
the towers of the city as they cross the harbour bar. Swift as a
falcon the magic vessel skims over the swelling waters, and the
toil-worn hero lays him down to rest on a soft co