The rams of the giant’s flocks were great strong beasts, with fleeces thick and woolly, and as dark as the violet.  With twisted slips of willow Odysseus lashed every three of them together, and under the middle ram of each three he bound one of his men.  For himself he kept the best ram of the flock, young and strong, and with a fleece wonderfully thick and shaggy.  Underneath this ram Odysseus curled himself, and clung, face upwards, firmly grasping the wool with his hands.  In this wise did he and his men wait patiently for the dawn.

When rosy dawn came, the ewes in the pens bleated to be milked and the rams hastened out to the hills and green meadows.  As each sheep passed him, Polyphemus felt along its back, but never guessed that the six remaining men of Odysseus were bound beneath the thick-fleeced rams.  Last of all came the young ram to which Odysseus clung, moving slowly, for his fleece was heavy, and Odysseus whom he bore was heavier still.  On the ram’s back Polyphemus laid his great hands.  “Dear ram,” said he, “once wert thou the very first to lead the flocks from the cave, the first to nibble the tender buds of the pasture, the first to find out the running streams, and the first to come home when evening fell.  But to-day thou art the very last to go.  Surely thou art sorrowful because the wicked Noman hath destroyed my eye.  I would thou couldst speak and tell me where Noman is hidden.  Then should I seize him and gladly dash out his brains on the floor of the cave.”

Very, very still lay Odysseus while the giant spoke, but the ram slowly walked on past the savage giant, towards the meadows near the sea.  Soon it was far enough from the cave for Odysseus to let go his hold and to stand up.  Quickly he loosened the bonds of the others, and swiftly then they drove the rams down to the shore where their ship lay.  Often they looked round, expecting to see Polyphemus following them, but they safely reached the ship and got a glad welcome from their friends, who rejoiced over them, but would have wept over the men that the cannibal giant had slain.

“There is no time to weep,” said Odysseus, and he made his men hasten on board the ship, driving the sheep before them.

Soon they were all on board, and the gray sea-water was rushing off their oars, as they sailed away from the land of the Cyclopes.

But before they were out of sight of land, the bold Odysseus lifted up his voice and shouted across the water: 

“Hear me, Polyphemus, thou cruel monster!  Thine evil deeds were very sure to find thee out.  Thou hast been punished because thou hadst no shame to eat the strangers who came to thee as thy guests!”

The voice of Odysseus rang across the waves, and reached Polyphemus as he sat in pain at the mouth of his cave.

In a fury the giant sprang up, broke off the peak of a great hill and cast it into the sea, where it fell just in front of the ship of Odysseus.