ania, the curving shore, Thapsus, and the sea.
Syracuse itself, a thin white line between the harbour and the open
sea, a dazzling streak between two blues, terminates the slope of
Epipolae, and on the right hand stretch the marshes of Anapus rich
with vines and hoary with olives.

[1] Epipolae is in shape a pretty regular isosceles
triangle, of which the apex is Mongibellisi or Euryalus,
and the base Achradina or the northern quarter of the
ancient city. Thucydides describes it as [Greek: chorion
apokremnou te kai hyper tes poleos euthus
keimenou ... exertetai gar to allo chorion kai mechri
tes poleos epiklines te esti kai epiphanes pan eiso' kai
onomasta hypo tos Syrakosion dia to epipoles tou allou
einai Epipolai] (vi. 96).

By far the most interesting localities of Syracuse are the Great
Harbour and the stone quarries. When the sluggish policy and faint
heart of Nikias had brought the Athenians to the verge of ruin, when
Gylippus had entered the besieged city, and Plemmyrium had been
wrested from the invaders, and Demosthenes had failed in his attack
upon Epipolae, and the blockading trenches had been finally
evacuated, no hope remained for the armament of Athens except only
in retreat by water. They occupied a palisaded encampment upon the
shore of the harbour, between the mouth of the Anapus and the city;
whence they attempted to force their way with their galleys to the
open sea. Hitherto the Athenians had been supreme upon their own
element; but now the Syracusans adopted tactics suited to the narrow
basin in which the engagements had to take place. Building their
vessels with heavy beaks, they crushed the lighter craft of the
Athenians, which had no room for flank movements and rapid
evolutions. A victory was thus obtained by the Syracusan navy; the
harbour was blockaded with chains by the order of Gylippus; the
Athenians were driven back to their palisades upon the fever-haunted
shore. Their only chance seemed to depend upon a renewal of the
sea-fight in the harbour. The supreme moment arrived. What remained
of the Athenian fleet, in numbers still superior to that of their
enemies, steered straight for the mouth of the harbour. The
Syracusans advanced from the naval stations of Ortygia to meet them.
The shore was thronged with spectators, Syracusans tremulous with
the expectation of a decisive success, Athenians on the tenter-hooks
of hope and dread. In a short time the