A Victor of Salamis

by William Stearns Davis

  CHAPTER XXIX

  SALAMIS

  Sunrise. The _Nausicaae_ was ready. Ameinias the navarch walked the deckabove the stern-cabin with nervous strides. All that human forethoughtcould do to prepare the ship had long been done. The slim hull one hundredand fifty feet long had been stripped of every superfluous rope and spar.The masts had been lowered. On the cat-heads hung the anchors weightedwith stone to fend off an enemy, astern towed the pinnace ready to dragalongside and break the force of the hostile ram. The heavy-armed marinesstood with their long boarding spears, to lead an attack or cast offgrappling-irons. But the true weapon of the _Nausicaae_ was herself. Tosend the three-toothed beak through a foeman's side was the end of herbeing. To meet the shock of collision two heavy cables had been boundhorizontally around the hull from stem to stern. The oarsmen,--the_thranites_ of the upper tier, the _zygites_ of the middle, the_thalamites_ of the lower,--one hundred and seventy swart, nervous-eyedmen, sat on their benches, and let their hands close tight upon those oarswhich trailed now in the drifting water, but which soon and eagerly shouldspring to life. At the belt of every oarsman dangled a sword, forboarders' work was more than likely. Thirty spare rowers restedimpatiently on the centre deck, ready to leap wherever needed. On theforecastle commanded the _proreus_, Ameinias's lieutenant, and with himthe _keleustes_, the oar master who must give time on his sounding-boardfor the rowing, and never fail,--not though the ships around reeled down towatery grave. And finally on the poop by the captain stood the"governor,"--knotted, grizzled, and keen,--the man whose touch upon theheavy steering oars might give the _Nausicaae_ life or destruction when theships charged beak to beak.

  "The trireme is ready, admiral," reported Ameinias, as Themistocles cameup leisurely from the stern-cabin.

  The son of Neocles threw back his helmet, that all might see his calm,untroubled face. He wore a cuirass of silvered scale-armour over hispurple chiton. At his side walked a young man, whom the ship's peopleimagined the deserter of the preceding night, but he had drawn his helmetclose.

  "This is Critias," said Themistocles, briefly, to the navarch; "he is agood caster. See that he has plenty of darts."

  "One of Themistocles's secret agents," muttered the captain to thegovernor, "we should have guessed it." And they all had other things tothink of than the whence and wherefore of this stranger.

  It was a weary, nervous interval. Men had said everything, doneeverything, hoped and feared everything. They were in no mood even toinvoke the gods. In desperation some jested riotously as they gripped theoars on the benches,--demonstrations which the _proreus_ quelled with aloud "Silence in the ship." The morning mist was breaking. A brisk windwas coming with the sun. Clear and strong sang the Notus, the breeze ofthe kindly south. It covered the blue bay with crisping whitecaps, it sentthe surf foaming up along the Attic shore across the strait. Themistocleswatched it all with silent eyes, but eyes that spoke of gladness. He knewthe waves would beat with full force on the Persian prows, and make theirswift movement difficult while the Greeks, taking the galloping surfastern, would suffer little.

  "AEolus fights for us. The first omen and a fair one." The word ran inwhispers down the benches, and every soul on the trireme rejoiced.

  How long did they sit thus? An aeon? Would Eurybiades never draw out hisline of battle? Would Adeimantus prove craven at the end? Would treacheryundo Hellas to-day, as once before at Lade when the Ionian Greeks hadfaced the Persian fleet in vain? Now as the vapour broke, men began to beable to look about them, and be delivered from their own thoughts. Theshores of Salamis were alive,--old men, women, little children,--thefugitives from Attica were crowding to the marge in thousands to watch thedeed that should decide their all. And many a bronze-cheeked oarsman arosefrom his bench to wave farewell to the wife or father or mother, and sankback again,--a clutching in his throat, a mist before his eyes, while hisgrip upon the oar grew like to steel.

  As the _Nausicaae_ rode at her place in the long line of ships spread upand down the shore of Salamis, it was easy to detect forms if not faces onthe strand. And Glaucon, peering out from his helmet bars, saw Democrateshimself standing on the sands and beckoning to Themistocles. Then otherfigures became clear to him out of the many, this one or that whom he hadloved and clasped hands with in the sunlit days gone by. And last of allhe saw those his gaze hungered for the most, Hermippus, Lysistra, andanother standing at their side all in white, and in her arms she boresomething he knew must be her child,--Hermione's son, his son, born to thelot of a free man of Athens or a slave of Xerxes according as his eldersplayed their part this day. Only a glimpse,--the throng of strangers openedto disclose them closed again; Glaucon leaned on a capstan. All thestrength for the moment was gone out of him.

  "You rowed and wrought too much last night, Critias," spoke Themistocles,who had eyes for everything. "To the cabin, Sicinnus, bring a cup ofChian."

  "No wine, for Athena's sake!" cried the outlaw, drawing himself together,"it is passed. I am strong again."

  A great shout from the shores and the waiting fleet made him forget eventhe sight of Hermione.

  "They come! The Persians! The Persians!"

  The fleet of the Barbarians was advancing from the havens of Athens.

  * * * * * * *

  The sun rose higher. He was far above Hymettus now, and shooting hisbright javelins over mainland, islands, and waters. With his rising thesouthern breeze sang ever clearer, making the narrow channel betwixtSalamis and Attica white, and tossing each trireme merrily. Not a cloudhung upon Pentelicus, Hymettus, or the purple northern range of Parnes.Over the desolate Acropolis hovered a thin mist,--smoke from thesmouldering temple, the sight of which made every Attic sailor blink hardand think of the vengeance.

  Yonder on the shore of the mainland the host of the Persian was moving:horsemen in gilded panoply, Hydarnes's spearmen in armour like suns. Theystood by myriads in glittering masses about a little spur of Mt. AEgaleos,where a holy close of Heracles looked out upon the sea. To them werecoming more horsemen, chariots, litters, and across the strait drifted thethunderous acclamation, "Victory to the king!" For here on the ivorythrone, with his mighty men, his captains, his harem, about him, the "Lordof the World" would look down on the battle and see how his slaves couldfight.

  Now the Barbarians began to move forth by sea. From the havens of Peiraeusand their anchorages along the shore swept their galleys,--Phoenician,Cilician, Egyptian, and, sorrow of sorrows, Ionian--Greek arrayed againstGreek! Six hundred triremes and more they were, taller in poop and prowthan the Hellenes, and braver to look upon.

  Each vied with each in the splendour of the scarlet, purple, and gold uponstern and foreship. Their thousands of white oars moved like the onwardmarch of an army as they trampled down the foam. From the masts of theirmany admirals flew innumerable gay signal-flags. The commands shoutedthrough trumpets in a dozen strange tongues--the shrill pipings of the oarmasters, the hoarse shouts of the rowers--went up to heaven in a clamorousbabel. "Swallows' chatter," cried the deriding Hellenes, but hearts werebeating quicker, breath was coming faster in many a breast by Salamisthen,--and no shame. For now was the hour of trial, the wrestle of OlympianZeus with Ahura-Mazda. Now would a mighty one speak from the heavens toHellas, and say to her "Die!" or "Be!"

  The Barbarians' armadas were forming. Their black beaks, all pointingtoward Salamis, stretched in two bristling lines from the islet ofPsyttaleia--whence the shields of the landing force glittered--to thatbrighter glitter on the promontory by AEgaleos where sat the king. Tocharge their array seemed charging a moving hedge of spears, impenetrablein defence, invincible in attack. Slowly, rocked by the sea and rowing insteady order, the armament approached Salamis. And still the Greek shipslay spread out along the shore, each trireme swinging at the end of thecable which moored her to the land, each mariner listening to the beatingsof his own heart and straining his eyes on one ship now--Eurybiades's--w
hichrode at the centre of their line and far ahead.

  All could read the order of battle at last as squadron lay againstsquadron. On the west, under Xerxes's own eye, the Athenians must chargethe serried Phoenicians, at the centre the AEginetans must face theCilicians, on the east Adeimantus and his fellows from Peloponnese mustmake good against the vassal Ionians. But would the signal to row andstrike never come? Had some god numbed Eurybiades's will? Was treacherydoing its darkest work? With men so highly wrought moments were precious.The bow strung too long will lose power. And wherefore did Eurybiadestarry?

  Every soul in the _Nausicaae_ kept his curses soft, and waited--waited tillthat trailing monster, the Persian fleet, had crept halfway fromPsyttaleia toward them, then up the shrouds of the Spartan admiral leapeda flag. Eager hands drew it, yet it seemed mounting as a snail, till atthe masthead the clear wind blew it wide,--a plain red banner, but as itspread hundreds of axes were hewing the cables that bound the triremes tothe shore, every Greek oar was biting the sea, the ships were leaping awayfrom Salamis. From the strand a shout went up, a prayer more than a cheer,mothers, wives, little ones, calling it together:--

  "Zeus prosper you!"

  A roar from the fleet, the tearing of countless blades on the thole-pinsanswered them. Eurybiades had spoken. There was no treason. All now was inthe hand of the god.

  * * * * * * *

  Across the strait they went, and the Barbarians seemed springing to meetthem. From the mainland a tumult of voices was rising, the myriads aroundXerxes encouraging their comrades by sea to play the man. No indecisive,half-hearted battle should this be, as at Artemisium. Persian and Helleneknew that. The keen Phoenicians, who had chafed at being kept from actionso long, sent their line of ships sweeping over the waves with furiousstrokes. The grudges, the commercial rivalries between Greek and Sidonian,were old. No Persian was hotter for Xerxes's cause than his Phoenicianvassals that day.

  And as they charged, the foemen's lines seemed so dense, their ships sotall, their power so vast, that involuntarily hesitancy came over theGreeks. Their strokes slowed. The whole line lagged. Here an AEginetangalley dropped behind, yonder a Corinthian navarch suffered his men toback water. Even the _keleustes_ of the _Nausicaae_ slackened his beatingon the sounding-board. Eurybiades's ship had drifted behind to the line ofher sisters, as in defiance a towering Sidonian sprang ahead of theBarbarian line of battle, twenty trumpets from her poop and foreshipasking, "Dare you meet me?" The Greek line became almost stationary. Someships were backing water. It was a moment which, suffered to slipunchecked, leads to irreparable disaster. Then like a god sprangThemistocles upon the capstan on his poop. He had torn off his helmet. Thecrews of scores of triremes saw him. His voice was like Stentor's, theherald whose call was strong as fifty common men.

  In a lull amidst the howls of the Barbarians his call rang up and down theflagging ships:--

  "_O Sons of Hellas! save your land,_ _Your children save, your altars and your wives!_ _Now dare and do, for ye have staked your all!_"

  "Now dare and do, for ye have staked your all!"

  Navarch shouted it to navarch. The cry went up and down the line of theHellenes, "loud as when billows lash the beetling crags." The trailingoars beat again into the water, and even as the ships once more gainedway, Themistocles nodded to Ameinias, and he to the _keleustes_. Themaster oarsman leaped from his seat and crashed his gavel down upon thesounding-board.

  "_Aru! Aru! Aru!_ Put it on, my men!"

  The _Nausicaae_ answered with a leap. Men wrought at the oar butts, tugginglike mad, their backs toward the foe, conscious only that duty bade themsend the trireme across the waves as a stone whirls from the sling. Thusthe men, but Themistocles, on the poop, standing at the captain's andgovernor's side, never took his gaze from the great Barbarian that leapeddefiantly to meet them.

  "Can we risk the trick?" his swift question to Ameinias.

  The captain nodded. "With this crew--yes."

  Two stadia, one stadium, half a stadium, a ship's length, the triremeswere charging prow to prow, rushing on a common death, when Ameiniasclapped a whistle to his lips and blew shrilly. As one man every rower onthe port-side leaped to his feet and dragged his oar inward through itsrow-hole. The deed was barely done ere the Sidonian was on them. Theyheard the roaring water round her prow, the cracking of the whips as thepetty officers ran up and down the gangways urging on the panting cattleat the oars. Then almost at the shock the governor touched his steeringoar. The _Nausicaae_ swerved. The prow of the Sidonian rushed past them. Ashower of darts pattered down on the deck of the Hellene, but a twinklinglater from the Barbarians arose a frightful cry. Right across her tripleoar bank, still in full speed, ploughed the Athenian. The Sidonian's oarswere snapping like faggots. The luckless rowers were flung from theirbenches in heaps. In less time than the telling every oar on theBarbarian's port-side had been put out of play. The _diekplous_, favouritetrick of the Grecian seamen, had never been done more fairly.

  Now was Themistocles's chance. He used it. There was no need for him togive orders to the oar master. Automatically every rower on the port-tiersof the _Nausicaae_ had run out his blade again. The governor sent the headof the trireme around with a grim smile locked about his grizzled lips. Itwas no woman's task which lay before them. Exposing her whole broadsidelay the long Sidonian; she was helpless, striving vainly to crawl awaywith her remaining oar banks. Her people were running to and fro, howlingto Baal, Astarte, Moloch, and all their other foul gods, and stretchingtheir hands for help to consorts too far away.

  "_Aru! Aru! Aru!_" was the shout of the oar master; again the _Nausicaae_answered with her leap. Straight across the narrow water she shot, thefirm hand of the governor never veering now. The stroke grew faster,faster. Then with one instinct men dropped the oars, to trail in therushing water, and seized stanchions, beams, anything to brace themselvesfor the shock. The crash which followed was heard on the mainland and onSalamis. The side of the Phoenician was beaten in like an egg-shell. Fromthe _Nausicaae's_ poop they saw her open hull reel over, saw the hundredsof upturned, frantic faces, heard the howls of agony, saw the waves leapinto the gaping void.--

  "Back water," thundered Ameinias, "clear the vortex, she is going down!"

  The _Nausicaae's_ people staggered to the oars. So busy were they inrighting their own ship few saw the crowning horror. A moment more and afew drifting spars, a few bobbing heads, were all that was left of thePhoenician. The AEgean had swallowed her.

  A shout was pealing from the ships of the Hellenes. "Zeus is with us!Athena is with us!"

  At the outset of the battle, when advantage tells the most, advantage hadbeen won. Themistocles's deed had fused all the Greeks with hopefulcourage. Eurybiades was charging. Adeimantus was charging. Their ships andall the rest went racing to meet the foe.

  * * * * * * *

  But the _Nausicaae_ had paid for her victory. In the shock of ramming thetriple-toothed beak on her prow had been wrenched away. In the _melee_ ofships which had just begun, she must play her part robbed of her keenestweapon. The sinking of the Barbarian had been met with cheers by theHellenes, by howls of revengeful rage by the host against them. Notlightly were the Asiatics who fought beneath the eyes of the king to bedaunted. They came crowding up the strait in such masses that sheernumbers hindered them, leaving no space for the play of the oars, muchless for fine manoeuvre. Yet for an instant it seemed as if mere weightwould sweep the Hellenes back to Salamis. Then the lines of battledissolved into confused fragments. Captains singled out an opponent andcharged home desperately, unmindful how it fared elsewhere in the battle.Here an Egyptian ran down a Euboean, there a Sicyonian grappled a Cilicianand flung her boarders on to the foeman's decks. To the onlookers thescene could have meant naught save confusion. A hundred duels, a hundredvarying victories, but to which side the final glory would fall, whoknew?--perchance not even Zeus.

  In the roaring _melee_ the _Nausicaa
e_ had for some moments moved almostaimlessly, her men gathering breath and letting their unscathed comradespass. Then gradually the battle drifted round them also. A Cyprian, notingthey had lost their ram, strove to charge them bow to bow. The skill ofthe governor avoided that disaster. They ran under the stem of a Tyrian,and Glaucon proved he had not forgotten his skill when he sent hisjavelins among the officers upon the poop. A second Sidonian swept down onthem, but grown wise by her consort's destruction turned aside to lockwith an AEginetan galley. How the fight at large was going, who waswinning, who losing, Glaucon saw no more than any one else. An arrowgrazed his arm. He first learned it when he found his armour bloody. Asling-stone smote the marine next to him on the forehead. The man droppedwithout a groan. Glaucon flung the body overboard, almost by instinct.Themistocles was everywhere, on the poop, on the foreship, among therowers' benches, shouting, laughing, cheering, ordering, standing upboldly where the arrows flew thickest, yet never hit. So for a while, tillout of the confusion of ships and wrecks came darting a trireme, loftierthan her peers. The railing on poop and prow was silver. The shields ofthe javelin-men that crowded her high fighting decks were gilded. Tenpennons whipped from her masts, and the cry of horns, tambours, andkettledrums blended with the shoutings of her crew. A partially disabledHellene drifted across her path. She ran the luckless ship down in atwinkling. Then her bow swung. She headed toward the _Nausicaae_.

  "Do you know this ship?" asked Themistocles, at Glaucon's side on thepoop.

  "A Tyrian, the newest in their fleet, but her captain is the admiralAriamenes, Xerxes's brother."

  "She is attacking us, Excellency," called Ameinias, in his chief's ear.The din which covered the sea was beyond telling.

  Themistocles measured the water with his eye.

  "She will be alongside then in a moment," was his answer, "and the beak isgone?"

  "Gone, and ten of our best rowers are dead."

  Themistocles drew down the helmet, covering his face.

  "_Euge!_ Since the choice is to grapple or fly, we had better grapple."

  The governor shifted again the steering paddles. The head of the_Nausicaae_ fell away toward her attacker, but no signal was given toquicken the oars. The Barbarian, noting what her opponent did, but justlyfearing the handiness of the Greeks, slackened also. The two ships driftedslowly together. Long before they closed in unfriendly contact the arrowsof the Phoenician pelted over the _Nausicaae_ like hail. Rowers fell as theysat on the upper benches; on the poop the _proreus_ lay with half his men.Glaucon never counted how many missiles dinted his helmet and buckler. Thenext instant the two ships were drifting without steerage-way. Thegrappling-irons dashed down upon the Athenian, and simultaneously thebrown Phoenician boarders were scrambling like cats upon her decks.

  "Swords, men!" called Themistocles, never less daunted than at the pinch,"up and feed them with iron!"

  Three times the Phoenicians poured as a flood over the _Nausicaae_. Threetimes they were flung back with loss, but only to rage, call on theirgods, and return with tenfold fury. Glaucon had hurled one sheaf ofjavelins, and tore loose another, eye and arm aiming, castingmechanically. In the lulls he saw how wind and sea were sweeping the twoships landward, until almost in arrow-shot of the rocky point where satXerxes and his lords. He saw the king upon his ivory throne and all hismighty men around him. He saw the scribes standing near with parchment andpapyrus, inscribing the names of this or that ship which did well or illin behalf of the lord of the Aryans. He saw the gaudy dresses of theeunuchs, the litters, and from them peering forth the veiled women. DidArtazostra think _now_ the Hellenes were mad fools to look her brother'spower in the face? From the shores of Attica and of Salamis, where themyriads rejoiced or wept as the scattered battle changed, the cries wererising, falling, like the throb of a tragic chorus,--a chorus of Titans,with the actors gods.

  "Another charge!" shouted Ameinias, through the din, "meet them briskly,lads!"

  Once more the hoarse Semitic war-shout, the dark-faced Asiatics droppingupon the decks, the whir of javelins, the scream of dying men, the clashof steel on steel. A frantic charge, but stoutly met. Themistocles was inthe thickest _melee_. With his own spear he dashed two Tyrians overboard,as they sprang upon the poop. The band that had leaped down among the oarbenches were hewn in pieces by the seamen. The remnant of the attackersrecoiled in howls of despair. On the Phoenician's decks the Greeks saw theofficers laying the lash mercilessly across their men, but thedisheartened creatures did not stir. Now could be seen Ariamenes, the highadmiral himself, a giant warrior in his purple and gilded armour, going upand down the poop, cursing, praying, threatening,--all in vain. The_Nausicaae's_ people rose and cheered madly.

  "Enough! They have enough! Glory to Athens!"

  But here Ameinias gripped Themistocles's arm. The chief turned, and allthe Hellenes with him. The cheer died on their lips. A tall trireme wasbearing down on them in full charge even while the _Nausicaae_ drifted.They were as helpless as the Sidonian they had sent to death. One groanbroke from the Athenians.

  "Save, Athena! Save! It is Artemisia! The queen of Halicarnassus!"

  The heavy trireme of the amazon princess was a magnificent sight as theylooked on her. Her oars flew in a flashing rhythm. The foam leaped in acataract over her ram. The sun made fire of the tossing weapons on herprow. A yell of triumph rose from the Phoenicians. On the _Nausicaae_ mendropped sword and spear, moaned, raved, and gazed wildly on Themistoclesas if he were a god possessing power to dash the death aside.

  "To your places, men!" rang his shout, as he faced the foe unmoved, "anddie as Athenians!"

  Then even while men glanced up at the sun to greet Helios for the lasttime, there was a marvel. The threatening beak shot around. The triremeflew past them, her oars leaping madly, her people too intent on escapeeven to give a flight of javelins. And again the Athenians cheered.

  "The _Perseus_! Cimon has saved us."

  Not three ships' lengths behind the Halicarnassian raced the ship of theson of Miltiades. They knew now why Artemisia had veered. Well she might;had she struck the _Nausicaae_ down, her own broadside would have swungdefenceless to the fleet pursuer. The _Perseus_ sped past her consort atfull speed, Athenian cheering Athenian as she went.

  "Need you help?" called Cimon, from his poop, as Themistocles waved hissword.

  "None, press on, smite the Barbarian! Athena is with us!"

  "Athena is with us! Zeus is with us!"

  The _Nausicaae's_ crew were lifted from panic to mad enthusiasm. Stillabove them towered the tall Phoenician, but they could have scaled Mt.Caucasus at that instant.

  "Onward! Up and after them," rang Ameinias's blast, "she is our own, wewill take her under the king's own eye."

  The javelins and arrows were pelting from the Barbarian. The Atheniansmocked the shower as they leaped the void from bulwark to bulwark. Vainlythe Phoenicians strove to clear the grapples. Too firm! Their foes came onto their decks with long leaps, or here and there ran deftly on projectingspars, for what athlete of Hellas could not run the tight rope? In aninstant the long rowers' deck of the Tyrian was won, and the attackerscheered and blessed Athena. But this was only storming the first outpost.Like castles forward and aft reared the prow and poop, whither the sullendefenders retreated. Turning at bay, the Phoenicians swarmed back into thewaist, waiting no scourging from their officers. Now their proud admiralhimself plunged into the _melee_, laying about with a mighty sword worthyof Ajax at Troy, showing he was a prince of the Aryans indeed. It took allthe steadiness of Ameinias and his stoutest men to stop the rush, and savethe Athenians in turn from being driven overboard. The rush was haltedfinally, though this was mere respite before a fiercer breaking of thestorm. The two ships were drifting yet closer to the strand. Only the fearof striking their own men kept the Persians around the king from cloudingthe air with arrows. Glaucon saw the grandees near Xerxes's thronebrandishing their swords. In imagination he saw the monarch leaping fromhis throne in agony as at Thermopylae.


  "Back to the charge," pealed Ariamenes's summons to the Tyrians; "will yoube cowards and dogs beneath the very eyes of the king?"

  The defenders answered with a second rush. Others again hurled darts fromthe stern and foreship. Then out of the maelstrom of men and weapons came atruce. Athenian and Tyrian drew back, whilst Themistocles and Ariameneswere fighting blade to blade. Twice the giant Persian almost dashed theHellene down. Twice Themistocles recovered poise, and paid back stroke forstroke. He had smitten the helmet from Ariamenes's head and was swingingfor a master-blow when his foot slipped on the bloody plank. He staggered.Before he could recover, the Persian had brought his own weapon up, andflung his might into the downward stroke.

  "The admiral--lost!" Athenians shuddered together, but with the groan shota javelin. Clear through the scales of the cuirass it tore, and into thePersian's shoulder,--Glaucon's cast, never at the Isthmus truer with handor eye. The ponderous blade turned, grazed the Athenian's corselet,clattered on the deck. The Persian sprang back disarmed and powerless. Atsight thereof the Phoenicians flung down their swords. True Orientals, inthe fate of their chief they saw decreeing Destiny,--what use to resist it?

  "Yield, my Lord, yield," called Glaucon, in Persian, "the battle isagainst you, and no fault of yours. Save the lives of your men."

  Ariamenes gave a toss of his princely head, and with his left hand pluckedthe javelin from his shoulder.

  "A prince of the Aryans knows how to die, but not how to yield," he castback, and before the Athenians guessed his intent he sprang upon thebulwark. There in the sight of his king he stood and bowed his head andwith his left arm made the sign of adoration.

  "Seize him!" shouted Ameinias, divining his intent, but too late. ThePersian leaped into the water. In his heavy mail he sank like lead. Thewave closed over him, as he passed forever from the sight of man.

  There was stillness on the Tyrian for a moment. A groan of helpless horrorwas rising from the Barbarians on the shore. Then the Phoenicians fell upontheir knees, crying in their harsh tongue, "Quarter! Quarter!" andembracing and kissing the feet of the victors. Thanks to the moment ofquietness given them, the Athenians' blood had cooled a little; theygathered up the weapons cast upon the deck; there was no massacre.

  Themistocles mounted the poop of the captured flag-ship, and Glaucon withhim. The wind was wafting them again into the centre of the channel. Forthe first time for many moments they were able to look about them, to ask,"How goes the battle?" Not the petty duel they had fought, but the greatbattle of battles which was the life-struggle of Hellas. And behold, asthey gazed they pressed their hands upon their eyes and looked and lookedagain, for the thing they saw seemed overgood for truth. Where the greatBarbarian line had been pushing up the strait, were only bands ofscattered ships, and most of these turning their beaks from Salamis. Thewaves were strewn with wrecks, and nigh every one a Persian. And right,left, and centre the triumphant Hellenes were pressing home, ramming,grappling, capturing. Even whilst the fight raged, pinnaces were thrustingout from Salamis--Aristeides's deed, they later heard--crowded with martialgraybeards who could not look idly on while their sons fought on theships, and who speedily landed on Psyttaleia to massacre the lucklessPersians there stationed. The cheers of the Barbarians were ended now;from the shores came only a beastlike howling which drowned the paeans ofthe victors. As the _Nausicaae's_ people looked, they could see the oncehaughty Phoenicians and Cilicians thrusting back against the land, and thethousands of footmen running down upon the shore to drag the shatteredtriremes up and away from the triumphant Hellenes.

  The _Nausicaae's_ people in wondering gaze stood there for a long time asif transfixed, forgetful how their ship and its prize drifted, forgetfulof weariness, forgetful of wounds. Then as one man they turned to the poopof the captured Tyrian, and to Themistocles. _He_ had done it--theiradmiral. He had saved Hellas under the eyes of the vaunting demigod whothought to be her destroyer. They called to Themistocles, they worshippedas if he were the Olympian himself.