But they were destined to pay dear for their good service to the stranger.  Poseidon marked their course with a jealous eye, and he went to his brother, Zeus, and thus preferred his complaint:  “Behold now this man hath reached home in safety and honour, and brought the oath to naught which I sware against him, when I vowed that he should return to Ithaca in evil plight!  Is my power to be defied, and my worship slighted, by these Phaeacians, who are of mine own race?”

“Thine honour is in thine own hands,” answered Zeus.  “Assert thy power, lift up thy hand and strike, that all men may fear to infringe thy privilege as lord of the sea.”

Having thus obtained his brother’s consent, Poseidon went and took his stand by the harbour mouth at Phaeacia, and as soon as the vessel drew near he smote her with his hand, and turned her with all her crew into a rock, which remains there, rooted in the sea, unto this day.

II

Twilight had not yielded to day when Odysseus awoke from his trancelike sleep, and gazed in bewilderment around him.  His senses had not yet fully come back to him, and after his twenty years’ absence he knew not where he was.  All seemed strange—­the winding paths, the harbour, the cliffs, and the very trees.  With a cry of dismay he sprang to his feet, and cried aloud:  “Good lack, what land have I come to now, and who be they that dwell there?  Are they savage and rude, or gentle and hospitable to strangers?” Then his eye fell on the gifts which had been brought with him from Phaeacia.  What was he to do with all this wealth?  “Now this is a sorry trick which the Phaeacians have played me,” he muttered again, “to carry me to a strange land, when they had promised to convey me safe to Ithaca.”

So unworthily did Odysseus deem of his benefactors that he fell to counting his goods, for fear lest they should have carried off a portion of the gifts while he slept.  He found the tale complete, and when he had finished counting them he wandered disconsolate along the sand, mourning for the country which he thought still far away.  As he went thus, with heavy steps and downcast eyes, a shadow fell across his path, and looking up he saw a fair youth, clad and armed like a young prince, who stood before him and smiled in his face with kindly eyes.  Glad to meet anyone of so friendly an aspect, Odysseus greeted him, asked for his countenance and protection, and inquired the name of the country.

“Either thou art simple,” answered the youth, “or thy home is far away, if thou knowest not this land.  It is a place not unknown to fame, but named with honour wherever mortal speech is heard.  Rugged indeed it is, and unfit for horses and for chariots, but rich in corn and wine, and blessed by the soft rain of heaven.  On its green pastures roam countless flocks and herds, and streams pour their abundance from its forest-clad hills.  Therefore the name of Ithaca is spoken far and wide, and hath reached even to the distant land of Troy.”