Circe had cautioned Odysseus on no account to attempt resistance when he approached the cave of Scylla; nevertheless, he put on his armour, and took his stand on the prow of the vessel, holding in each hand a lance.

So on they sped, steering close to the tall cliff under which Scylla lay hid, and gazing fearfully at the boiling whirlpool on the other side.  Just as they passed, a huge column of water shot into the air, belched up from the vast maw of Charybdis, and the galley was half swamped under a fountain of falling water.  When that ended, a black yawning chasm appeared, the very throat, as it seemed, of Charybdis, into which the water rushed in a roaring torrent.

Odysseus was gazing intently at this wondrous sight when he heard a sharp cry, and, looking back he saw six of his men, the stoutest of the crew, dangling high in the air, firmly clutched in the six sharklike jaws of Scylla.  There they hung for a moment, like fishes just caught by the angler’s hook; the next instant they were dragged into the black mouth of the cavern, calling with their last breath on their leader’s name.  This was the most pitiful thing that Odysseus had ever beheld, in all his long years of travel on the sea.

III

The last trial was now at hand, and if they could stand this final test a happy home-coming was promised to them all.  By next day’s dawn they ran down to the fair isle of Helios, and as they drew near they heard the lowing of oxen and the bleating of sheep.  Then Odysseus remembered the warnings of Circe and Teiresias, and sought to persuade his men to sail past the island and fly from the reach of temptation.  But they murmured against him, and Eurylochus, his lieutenant, gave voice to their feelings thus:  “Thou man of iron, thou hast no pity on us, but thinkest that we are all as hardy and as strong as thou art.  Hungry and weary as we are, wouldst thou have us turn away from this fair isle, where we could prepare a comfortable meal, and take refreshing sleep?  Shall we add the horrors of night to the horrors of the sea, and confront the demons of storm that haunt the caverns of darkness?  Nay, suffer us to abide here to-night, and to-morrow we will hoist sail again.”

Odysseus saw by the looks of his men that it would be useless to strain his authority, and so he gave way, though with sore reluctance, only exacting a solemn oath from the whole company that they would keep their hands off the cattle of Helios.  When each in turn had taken the oath they landed on the shore of a sheltered bay, and encamped by a fair spring of fresh water.

During the night it began to blow 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.