hard, and early next morning, as the
weather was still stormy and the wind contrary, they hauled up their
galley and bestowed her in a roomy cave, beyond the reach of wind and
water. Odysseus repeated his warnings, and the crew then dispersed, to
while away the time until the weather should mend.
For a whole month they had nothing but contrary gales from the south
and east, and long before that time had run out they had come to the
end of their store of provisions. For some time they contrived to live
on the fish which they caught by angling from the rocks, though this
was but poor fare for the robust appetites of those heroic days.
All this time Odysseus kept a careful watch over the movements of his
men, fearing that they might be driven by hunger to break the oath
which they had taken. But one morning he wandered away to a distant
part of the island, that he might spend an hour in solitary prayer and
meditation. Having found a secluded spot, he washed his hands, and
prayed earnestly to the gods for succour: and when he had prayed,
heaven so ordered it that he fell into a deep sleep.
Then the demon of mischief entered into the heart of Eurylochus, a
factious knave, who had more than once thwarted the counsels of
Odysseus. "Comrades," he said, "let us make an end of this misery.
Death in any shape is loathly to us poor mortals, but death by hunger
is the most hideous of all. Come, let us take the choicest of the
herds of Helios, and feast upon them, after sacrifice to the gods.
When we return to Ithaca we will build a temple to Helios, and appease
him with rich offerings. And even though he choose to wreck our ship
and drown us all, I would rather swallow the brine, and so make an
end, than waste away by inches on a desert island."
The famishing sailors lent a ready ear to his words, and having picked
out the fattest of the oxen they slaughtered them and offered
sacrifice, plucking the leaves of an oak as a substitute for the
barley-meal for sprinkling between the horns of the victims, and
pouring libations of water instead of wine. When the vain rite was
finished, they spitted slices of the meat, and roasted them over the
glowing embers.
Meanwhile Odysseus had awakened from his sleep, and made his way, not
without forebodings of ill, back to the camp. As he approached, the
steam of roasting meat was borne to his nostrils. "Woe is me!" he
cried, "the deed is done! What a price must we now pay for one hour of
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