The Cyclops's Cave
After he had rescued his crew from Lotusland, Ulysses found that he was running from one trouble into another. They were still at sea, and there was no food for the fleet. The men were hungry and getting dangerous. Ulysses heard them grumbling: "He should have left us there in Lotusland. At least when you're asleep you don't know you're hungry. Why did he have to come here and wake us up?" He knew that unless he found food for them very soon he would be facing a mutiny.
That part of the Aegean Sea was dotted with islands. On every one of them was a different kind of enemy. The last thing Ulysses wanted to do was go ashore, but there was no other way of getting food. He made a landfall on a small mountainous island. He was very careful; he had the ships of the fleet moor offshore and selected twelve of his bravest men as a landing party.
They beached their skiff and struck inland. It was a very hilly place, full of boulders, with very few trees. It seemed deserted. Then Ulysses glimpsed something moving across the valley, on the slope of a hill. He was too far off to see what they were, but he thought they must be goats since the hill was so steep. And if they were goats they had to be caught. So the men headed downhill, meaning to cross the valley and climb the slope.
Ulysses had no way of knowing it, but this was the very worst island in the entire sea on which the small party could have landed. For here lived the Cyclopes, huge savage creatures, tall as trees, each with one eye in the middle of his forehead. Once, long ago, they had lived in the bowels of Olympus, forging thunderbolts for Zeus. But he had punished them for some fault, exiling them to this island where they had forgotten all their smithcraft and did nothing but fight with each other for the herds of wild goats, trying to find enough food to fill their huge bellies. Best of all, they liked storms; storms meant shipwrecks. Shipwrecks meant sailors struggling in the sea, who could be plucked out and eaten raw; and the thing they loved best in the world was human flesh. The largest and fiercest of the Cyclopes on the island was one named Polyphemus. He kept a constant vigil on his mountain, fair weather or foul. If he spotted a ship, he would dive into the sea and swim underwater, coming up underneath the ship and overturning it. Then he would swim off with his pockets full of sailors.
On this day he could not believe his luck when he saw a boat actually landing on the beach, and thirteen meaty looking sailors disembark, and begin marching toward his cave. But here they were, climbing out of the valley right now, up the slope of the hill, right toward the cave. He realized they must be hunting his goats.
The door of the cave was an enormous slab of stone. He shoved this aside so that the cave stood invitingly open, casting a faint glow of firelight upon the dusk. Over the fire, on a great spit, eight goats were turning and roasting. The delicious savors of the cooking drifted from the cave. Polyphemus lay down behind a huge boulder and waited.
The men were halfway up the slope of the hill when they smelled the meat roasting. They broke into a run. Ulysses tried to restrain them, but they paid no heed - they were to hungry. They raced to the mouth of the cave and dashing in. Ulysses drew his sword and hurried after them. When he saw the huge fireplace and the eight goats spitted like sparrows, his heart sank because he knew that they had come into the reach of something much larger than themselves. However, the men were giving no thought to anything but food; they flung themselves on the spit, and tore into the goat meat, smearing their hands and faces with sizzling fat, too hungry to feel the pain as they crammed the hot meat into their mouths.
There was a loud rumbling sound; the cave darkened. Ulysses whirled around. He saw that the door had been closed. The far end of the cavern was too dark to see anything, but then - amazed, aghast - he saw what looked like a huge red lantern far above, coming closer. Then he saw the great shadow of a nose under it, and the gleam of teeth. He realized that the lantern was a great flaming eye. Then he saw the whole giant, tall as a tree, with huge fingers reaching out into the shadows, fingers bigger than bailing hooks. They closed around two sailors and hauled them screaming into the air.
As Ulysses and his horrified men watched, the great hand bore the struggling little men to the giant's mouth. He ate them, still wriggling, the way a cat eats a grasshopper; he ate them clothes and all, growling over their raw bones.
The men had fallen to their knees and were whimpering like terrified children, but Ulysses stood there, sword in hand, his agile brain working more swiftly than it had ever had.
"Greetings," he called. "May I know to whom we are indebted for such hospitality?"
The giant belched and spat buttons. "I am Polyphemus," he growled. "This is my cave, my mountain, and everything that comes here is mine. I do hope you can all stay to dinner. THere are just enough of you to make a meal. Ho, ho..." And he laughed a great, choking phlegmy laugh, swiftly lunged, and caught another sailor, whom he lifted into the air and held before his face.
"Wait!" cried Ulysses.
"What for?"
"You won't enjoy him that way. He is from Attica, where the olives grow. He was raised on olives and has a very delicate oily flavor. But to appreciate it, you must taste the wine of the country."
"Wine? What is wine?"
"It is a drink. Made from pressed grapes. Have you never drunk it?"
"We drink nothing but ox blood and buttermilk here."
"Ah, you do not know what you have missed, gentle Polyphemus. Meat-eaters, in particular, love wine. Here, try it for yourself."
Ulysses unslung from his belt a full flask of unwatered wine. He gave it to the giant, who put it to his lips and gulped. He coughed violently, and stuck the sailor in a tiny niche high up in the cave wall, then leaned his great slab of face toward Ulysses and said:
"What did you say this drink was?"
"Wine. A gift from the gods to man, to make women look better and food taste better. And now it is my gift to you."
"It's good, very good." He put the bottle to his lips and swallowed again. "You are very polite. What's your name?"
"My name? Why I am - Nobody."
"Nobody...Well, Nobody, I like you. You're a good fellow. And do you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to save you till last. Yes, I'll eat all your friends first, and give you extra time, that's what I'm going to do."
Ulysses looked into the great eye and saw that it was redder than ever. It was all a swimming redness. He had given the monster, who had never drunk sprits before, undiluted wine. Surely it must make him sleepy. But was a gallon enough for the great gullet? Enough to put him to sleep - or would he want to eat again first?
"Eat em all up. Nobody - save you till later. Sleep a little first. Shall I? Won't try to run away, will you? No - you can't, can't open the door - too heavy, ha, ha...You take a nap too, Nobody. I'll wake you for breakfast. Breakfast..."
The great body crashed full length on the cave floor, making the very walls of the mountain shake. Polyphemus lay on his back, snoring like a powersaw. The sailors were still on the floor, almost dead from fear.
"Up," cried Ulysses. "Stand up like men! Do what must be done! Or you will be devoured like chickens."
He got them to their feet and drew them about him as he explained his plan.
"Listen now, and listen well, for we have no time. I made him drunk, but we cannot tell how long it will last."
Ulysses thrust his sword into the fire; they saw it glow white-hot.
"There are ten of us," he said. "Two of us have been eaten, and one o our friends is still unconscious up there on the shelf of rock. You four get on one side of his head, and the rest on the other side. When I give the word, lay hold on the ear on your side, each of you. And hang on, no matter how he thrashes, for I am going to put his eye out. And if I am to be sure of my stroke you must hold his head still. One stroke is all I will be allowed."
Then Ulysses rolled a boulder next to the giant's head and climbed on it, so that he was looking down into the eye. It was lidless and misted with sleep - big as a furnace door and glowing softly like a banked fire. Ulysses looked at his men. They had done what he had said, broken into two parties, one group at each ear. He lifted the white-hot sword.
"Now!" he cried.
Driving down with both hands, and all the strength of his back and shoulders, and all of his rage and all his fear, Ulysses stabbed the glowing spike into the giant's eye.
His sword jerked out of his hand as the head flailed upward, men pelted to the ground as the lost their hold. A huge screeching curdling bellow split the air.
"This way!" shouted Ulysses.
He motioned to his men, and they crawled on their bellies toward the far end of the cave where the herd of goats was tethered. They slipped into the herd and lay among the goats as the giant stomped about the cave, slapping the walls with great blows of his hand, picking up boulders and cracking them together in agony, splitting them to flinders, clutching his eye, a scorched hole now from which the brown blood gelled. He moaned and gibbered and bellowed in frightful pain; his groping hand found the sailor in the wall, and he tore him to pieces between his fingers. Ulysses could not ever hear the man scream because the giant was bellowing so.
Now Ulysses saw that the Cyclops's wild stampeding was giving place to a plan. For now he was stamping on the floor in a regular pattern, trying to find and crush them beneath his feet. He stopped moaning and listened. The sudden silence dazed the men with fear. They held their breath and tried to muffle the sounds of their beating hearts; all the giant heard was the breathing of the goats. Then Ulysses saw him go to the mouth of the cave, and swing the great slab aside, and stand there. He realized just in time that the goats would rush outside, which is what the giant wanted, for then he could search the whole cave.
Ulysses whispered, "Quickly, swing under the bellies of the rams. Hurry, hurry!"
Luckily, they were giant goats and were able to carry the men who had swung themselves under their bellies and were clinging to their wiry wool. Ulysses himself chose the largest ram. They moved toward the mouth of the cave, and crowded through. The Cyclops's hands came down and brushed across the goat's backs feeling for the men, but the animals were huddled too closely together for him to reach between and search under their bellies. So he let them pass through.
Now, the Cyclops had rushed to the corner where the goats had been tethered, and stamped, searched, and roared through the whole cave again, bellowing with fury when he did not find them. The herd grazed on the hill beneath the cave. There was a full moon; it was almost as bright as day.
"Stay where you are," Ulysses whispered.
He heard a crashing, peered out, and saw great shadowy figures converging on the cave. He knew that other Cyclopes of the island must have heard the noise and came to see. He heard the giant bellow.
The others called to him: "Who has done it? Who has blinded you?"
"Nobody. Nobody did it. Nobody blinded me."
"Ah, you have done it yourself. What a tragic accident."
And they went back to their own caves.
"Now," said Ulysses. "Follow me!"
He swung himself out from under the belly of the ram, and raced down the hill. The others raced after him. They were halfway across the valley when they heard great footsteps rushing after them, and Polyphemus bellowing nearer and nearer.
"He's coming," cried Ulysses. "Run for your lives!"
They ran as they had never run before, but the giant could cover fifty yards at a stride. It was only because he could not see and kept bumping into trees and rocks that they were able to reach the skiff and push out on the silver water before Polyphemus burst out of the grove of trees and onto the beach. They bent to the oars, and boat scudded toward the fleet.
Polyphemus heard the dip of the oars and the groaning of the oarlocks, and, aiming at the sound, hurled huge boulders after them. They fell around the ship, but did not hit. The skiff reached Ulysses' ship, and the sailors climbed aboard.
"Haul anchor, and away!" cried Ulysses. And then called to the Cyclops, "Poor fool! Poor blinded drunken gluttonous fool - if anyone else asks you, is it not Nobody, but Ulysses who has done this to you."
But he was to regret this final taunt. The gods honor courage, but punish pride.
Polyphemus, wild with rage, waded out chest deep and hurled a last boulder, which hit mid deck, almost sunk the ship, and killed most of the crew - among them seven of the nine men who had just escaped.
And Polyphemus prayed to Poseidon, "God of the Sea, I beg you, punish Ulysses for this. Visit him with storm and shipwreck and sorceries. Let him wander many years before he reaches home, and when he gets there let him find himself forgotten, unwanted, a stranger."
Poseidon heard this prayer,
and made it all happen just that way.
copyright 1989
Bernard Evslin
Discoeries in Literature, Scott, Foresman