“But if thou takest the other way thou wilt come to another strait, guarded day and night by two sleepless sentinels, Scylla and Charybdis.  On one side thereof towers a lofty peak, shrouded, even in the noon of summer, in clouds and thick darkness.  No mortal man could climb that steep and slippery rock, not though he had twenty hands and twenty feet; for the side is smooth as polished marble, and in the midst of the cliff is a shadowy cave overlooking the track by which thou must guide thy ship, Odysseus.  Deep down it goes into the heart of the mountain, so that a man in his lusty prime could not shoot an arrow from his ship to the bottom of that yawning pit In the cave dwells Scylla, and yelps without ceasing.  Her voice is thin and shrill, like the cry of a hound newly littered, but she herself is a monster horrible to behold, so that neither man nor god could face her without affright.  Twelve feet hath she, and six necks of prodigious length, and on each neck a fearful head, whose ravening jaws are armed with triple rows of teeth.  As far as her waist she is hidden in the hollow cave, but she thrusts out her serpent necks from the abyss, and fishes in the waters for dolphins and sea-dogs and other creatures whose pasture is the sea.  On every ship that passes her den she levies a tribute of six of her crew.

“On the other side of the strait thou wilt see a second rock, lying flat and low, about a bowshot from the first.  There stands a great fig-tree, thick with leaves, and under it sits Charybdis, sucking down the water, and belching it up again three times a day.  Beware that thou approach not when she sucks down the water, for then none could save thee from destruction, no, not Poseidon himself.  Rather steer thy galley past Scylla’s cave, for it is better to lose six of thy men than to lose them all.

“Next thou shalt come to the island of Thrinacia, where graze the oxen of Helios and his goodly sheep—­seven herds of oxen, and as many fair flocks of sheep, and fifty in each flock and herd.  They are not born, neither do they die, and two goddesses have charge of them, fair-haired nymphs, the daughters of Helios.  Take heed that thou harm not the sacred beasts, that it may be well with thee, and that thou and thy company may come safely home.”

II

Once more they were afloat, and the brave little vessel bounded gaily over the waves, her canvas bellying in the wind.  For some hours they sailed on thus, and Odysseus recited to his men all that he had heard from Circe.  Then suddenly the wind dropped, and the sail hung idly to the mast.  Having furled and stowed the sail, they took to their oars, while the sea went down, and at last sunk to a level calm.  In the distance a low-lying coast appeared, which Odysseus knew to be the island of the Sirens, Forthwith he began to make his preparations to meet the danger which lay before them.  Taking a ball of wax he