Tales from the Odyssey, Part 1

by Mary Pope Osborne

  Aeolus bundled all the world’s winds into a sack made of oxhide, so none could hinder the Greek ships from sailing home. He left out only a gentle west wind that would carry them swiftly to Ithaca.

  The wind god tied the sack of winds with a silver cord and gave the bundle to Odysseus. Odysseus hid the sack in the hollow of his ship. He did not tell his men what was inside, for he did not want them to become lazy in their efforts to return home.

  Odysseus bade farewell to the family of the wind god. Then with the help of the gentle west wind, he and his men pushed off from the rocky island.

  In the days that followed, the Greek fleet kept a safe, steady course. Odysseus was so excited to be returning to his family that he could not sleep. For nine days and nights, he kept watch as the salty breeze swelled the sails of his ships.

  On the tenth day, in the distance, he finally saw the wooded hills that rose from the rocky shores of Ithaca. Odysseus rejoiced. He was home! The curse of the Cyclops had come to nothing!

  As the Greek ships drew closer to the island, Odysseus could see the smoke of cooking fires. Was Penelope, his beloved wife, preparing dinner for their son? The boy would be ten now, an age when he would most need a father. And were Odysseus’ aging parents still alive? He prayed that they would be waiting to greet him.

  The balmy west wind, the gentle waves, weariness—all soon lulled Odysseus into a deep sleep.

  While he slept, some of his men began to grumble to one another.

  “What is inside the sack that the wind god gave our captain?”

  “I imagine it is filled with splendid gifts—gold and silver.”

  “Why is it only Odysseus who receives the wind god’s gifts? We do all the work and receive nothing.”

  “Quick! Before he wakes, let us search the ship and find what he hides from us!”

  And so the faithless men searched the ship and found the wind god’s gift. They untied the silver threads of the oxhide sack.

  Suddenly, the mighty winds of the world rushed out and swirled into a hurricane. The storm picked up the twelve ships and sent them flying wildly over the seas, far away from the shores of Ithaca.

  Odysseus leaped up from his sleep and frantically tried to change the ship’s course, but it was too late. He could not fight the wild winds that his men had set free.

  In great despair, Odysseus thought of hurling himself into the sea. But he clung to the mast of his ship as the winds of the storm swept his fleet back the way they had come—all the way back to the island of the wind god.

  Once ashore, Odysseus ran to the god’s bronze fortress. He found Aeolus feasting at the banquet table with his twelve children.

  Ashamed to present himself, Odysseus stood in the back of the hall, waiting to be noticed.

  One of Aeolus’ sons was the first to see him. “What has happened, Odysseus?” he called out. “Why have you returned?”

  Odysseus stepped forward. He told Aeolus what his men had done. “I beg you to help us again to sail home,” he said. “Will you again bundle the storm winds and give us the gentle west wind to ease our course?”

  “No, Odysseus,” said the wind god in a low, angry voice. “You were cursed by the Cyclops. And now, indeed, the gods punish you. We can help you no more.”

  Odysseus looked to the children of Aeolus, hoping to find pity. But they only stared at him in cold silence.

  “Begone now!” said the wind god. “Before we are punished for helping you. Leave this island at once!”

  Odysseus knew the wind god spoke the truth: the curse of the Cyclops was truly upon him. The gods were punishing the Greeks for blinding Poseidon’s monstrous son.

  Odysseus returned to his men and ordered them to put out to sea. Ashamed of their foolish act, the men rowed valiantly. But with no wind to help, their ships drifted on the sea day after day.

  As Odysseus stared at the hazy horizon, grief threatened to break his spirit. But each time he thought of Penelope and Telemachus, the fire of his determination to return to Ithaca was rekindled.

  I will find my way back to my family again, he promised himself. And he leaned toward the horizon, yearning for home.

  EPILOGUE

  While Odysseus longed for home, his wife, Penelope, longed for his return. Over the years, news had often come to Ithaca of the fate of warriors who had been slain by the Trojans—or who had died at sea returning from the war. No word, though, had ever come to the island about the fate of Odysseus.

  Most people on the island assumed that Odysseus had died in battle or a shipwreck. Odysseus’ mother had despaired of ever seeing him again and had taken her life. In his grief and despair, Odysseus’ father had withdrawn to the country and lived in seclusion.

  But to everyone’s amazement, Odysseus’ wife held fast to the belief that her husband was still alive. Every day, as she wove cloth at her loom, she frequently glanced up, as if to catch sight of him walking in the door.

  Penelope most strongly sensed Odysseus’ presence when she looked upon their son, Telemachus. As the boy grew older, he reminded her more and more of his father: tall and handsome, clever and brave. The boy often asked to hear stories about Odysseus. A thousand times, he imagined his father’s ship sailing over the horizon.

  Penelope and Telemachus had no idea that Odysseus had been so close to them the night of the great storm. It was just as well. Sadly, neither mother nor son would lay eyes upon Odysseus for many more days, months…or even years to come.

  Book Two

  THE LAND OF THE DEAD

  ONE

  ISLAND OF THE CANNIBAL GIANTS

  For days, Odysseus, king of the Greek island of Ithaca, rowed with his warriors over the calm sea. As he rowed, Odysseus felt great pity for his men. He knew they grieved for their comrades murdered by the one-eyed monster, the Cyclops. He knew they also felt terrible guilt, for their foolish actions had made the wind god angry. And now there was no wind to fill the sails of the twelve Greek ships.

  Odysseus shared the despair of his men. But he fought his grief with a single vision—the vision of home. Before they had angered the wind god, the Greeks had sailed close to Ithaca. For the first time in ten years, Odysseus had seen the rocky shores of his island—its green woods and the smoke of its hearth fires. He’d imagined his wife, Penelope, cooking dinner for his aged parents and his young son, Telemachus.

  Now, with Ithaca and his beloved family ever in mind, Odysseus rowed. For six days and six nights, without the help of a single breeze, he and his men rowed without stopping.

  On the seventh day, the Greeks came upon a mysterious land. They steered their ships toward a cove surrounded by a steep wall of cliffs, making it a natural harbor.

  The Greeks sailed into the harbor through a narrow passage. They tied their ships together near the shore. Though the waters were calm and peaceful, Odysseus felt a strange foreboding. He ordered the crew of his own ship not to moor their vessel with the others, but to anchor it near the mouth of the cove.

  When the Greeks had gone ashore, Odysseus climbed a rock to look out over the strange land. He saw the smoke of a fire rising in the distance. Who lives here? he wondered.

  He quickly returned to his men and ordered three of them to climb over the cliffs and explore the land.

  “Find out who lives here,” he said. “Tell them we wish them no harm.”

  The three scouts set out at once. Odysseus and the others waited on the rocky shore for their return.

  The men had not been gone long when horrible screams filled the air. Two of the scouts charged down the side of the mountain. Shrieking and waving their arms, they appeared to have gone mad.

  “What has happened?” Odysseus shouted.

  In trembling voices, the men told their terrible tale.

  “We met a girl at a spring—she invited us to go with her,” one said. “When we entered her house, her mother appeared—a hideous giantess—”

  “Tall as a mountain!” cried the other. “She sent for her
husband—another giant—a cannibal!”

  The men broke down, sobbing. They told how the cannibal giant had snatched up their friend and eaten him before their very eyes.

  A roar then shook the harbor like thunder.

  Odysseus looked up and saw a legion of giants standing at the top of the cliffs.

  The bloodthirsty cannibals began picking up huge rocks. They hurled them down the mountainside.

  “Board the ships!” Odysseus called to his men. “Set sail at once!”

  As the other Greeks scrambled onto their ships, Odysseus and his crew ran toward the mouth of the cove where Odysseus’ black ship was moored.

  The rest of the fleet was doomed. The giants hurled their rocks down upon the ships docked in the harbor. The rocks smashed the vessels to splinters and crushed many of the sailors to death.

  As the Greeks screamed in agony, the cannibals raced down to the shore and speared men as if they were catching fish for supper.

  Watching with rage and horror, Odysseus knew he could save only the men aboard his own ship. He drew his sword and slashed the anchor rope.

  “Row! Row with all your might!” he shouted to his men. “Row for your lives!”

  As the screams and cries of their comrades filled the air, Odysseus and his crew frantically rowed away from the cove of the cannibal giants.

  TWO

  A GIFT FROM THE GODS

  Odysseus and his men rowed until their ship was finally safe upon the open seas.

  As Odysseus stared at the wine-dark waves, the screams of the dying men still rang in his ears. He realized the curse of the Cyclops was coming true. He remembered the cruel words of the hideous monster: “May Odysseus never reach his home alive! May he lose his way, his ships, and all his men! May he find only sorrow and trouble on his journey!”

  Odysseus had lost nearly all his ships now, and he had lost nearly all his men. Eleven vessels had been destroyed by the cannibal giants. All but forty-five of his warriors had been slain.

  Stunned by their losses, Odysseus and his crew could not speak. They sailed on in silence, shaken by the memory of the giants spearing the helpless wounded.

  Finally, the black ship came upon an island covered with thickets and dense woods. The Greeks climbed ashore and collapsed on the rocky beach.

  For two days and two nights, Odysseus and his men lay on the hard ground, mourning their lost comrades.

  On the third day, when rosy dawn crept over the island, Odysseus gathered his strength and stood up. He did not wake his crew, for he knew they had lost all heart.

  They are too stricken with grief to hunt for food, he thought. Soon they will be too weak to sail, and they will die on this island.

  Desperate to save his men, Odysseus picked up his sword and spear. Then he set out in search of game.

  Odysseus climbed a craggy hill and looked about for signs of life. In the distance, he saw smoke rising from the green forest. It curled above the trees and drifted into the sky. Do more giants and monsters live on this shore? Odysseus wondered anxiously. Or might the inhabitants be welcoming and kind?

  Before Odysseus could answer these questions, he knew he must find food for his men.

  The gods seemed to hear Odysseus’ thoughts—for just then, from out of the trees walked a giant stag with towering antlers.

  Odysseus hurled his spear, killing the stag at once. He then fashioned a rope from willow twigs and tied the legs of the stag together. He hoisted the stag onto his shoulders and carried it back to the Greek camp.

  Odysseus found his men huddled in a circle, their cloaks wrapped around their heads. Still deep in mourning, they wept bitter tears for their fallen shipmates. They trembled for their own fate as well.

  “Listen, my friends,” said Odysseus. “You and I shall not go down to the Land of the Dead this morning. It is not our day to die. Until that day comes, we must take care of ourselves. Rise. Be well. Let us feast on this gift from the gods.”

  The men uncovered their heads. They admired the mighty stag Odysseus had slain for them, and slowly they began preparing for their feast.

  They washed their hands and faces in the sea. After many days of grief and suffering, their hearts began to mend.

  THREE

  THE WITCH’S SPELL

  All afternoon, Odysseus and his crew feasted on deer meat and wine. When the sun set and darkness covered the island, they lay down on the shore and slept peacefully.

  At dawn, Odysseus roused his men.

  “Friends, I do not know where we are,” he said. “I know only that we are on an island. Yesterday morning, when I went hunting, I climbed a hill and saw the sea all around us. I know that others live here, for I saw smoke rising from the heart of the forest—”

  Before Odysseus could go on, his men cried out. They feared that more horrors like the Cyclops and the cannibal giants might await them on this strange shore.

  “Harness your fears!” Odysseus commanded. “We have no choice but to explore this island. We know not where we are or how to find our way home. We must seek help from strangers.”

  Odysseus’ men paid no heed to his words. They only grew more anxious. Before they surrendered completely to their terror, Odysseus came up with a plan.

  “Listen to me,” he said. “We will form two groups. I will be captain of one, and brave Eurylochus will be captain of the other.”

  Odysseus quickly divided his men. Twenty-two Greeks were placed under his own command, and twenty-two under that of his trusted warrior, Eurylochus.

  “Now Eurylochus and I will cast lots to see which of us will explore the island,” said Odysseus.

  Odysseus and Eurylochus cast lots in a helmet. The lot fell upon Eurylochus. He had no choice but to lead his men into the heart of the green forest.

  With great dismay, twenty-two Greeks lined up behind Eurylochus. Some wept as they marched away through the shadowy trees, fearing their impending death.

  The Greeks who stayed behind wept as well. So many of their friends had already been slain that they readily imagined they might soon lose more.

  Hour after hour, Odysseus waited for the return of Eurylochus and his band of men. He watched the shadows of the forest and listened for their voices. He feared he might have made a great mistake by forcing them to set out on their quest. But he dared not share his fears with the men who had remained behind.

  As the sun was setting over the island, Odysseus finally heard the tramping of feet. Eurylochus burst from the trees. He was alone. His eyes were wide with terror.

  Odysseus and the others rushed forward to hear his story. But Eurylochus collapsed on the ground, shaking and moaning, unable to speak.

  Odysseus grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him to his feet. “Where are the others?” he cried. “Why did you leave them?”

  Eurylochus could not answer.

  Odysseus shook him again. “Tell us!” he demanded. “Are they dead?”

  “No—not dead,” said Eurylochus. “Worse! Worse than dead—” He broke down, weeping.

  “Tell us what happened!” Odysseus demanded again.

  In a shaky voice, Eurylochus told his tale: “We traveled through the forest until we came to a valley. We saw a gleaming stone wall. We stepped through a gate into a clearing, and soon came face-to-face with huge wolves and mountain lions with long, sharp claws!”

  “You were attacked by these wild creatures?” Odysseus asked.

  Eurylochus shook his head. “They did not attack us,” he said. “The wolves licked us and whined like pet dogs. The lions gently pawed us and mewed like house cats. It was strange and unnatural. We should have turned back—”

  Eurylochus trembled and covered his face. But Odysseus shook him again. “Go on with your tale,” he ordered. “Tell us what happened next.”

  Eurylochus continued. “We were frightened to be greeted so strangely by these creatures,” he said. “We moved quickly past them to the inner courtyard of a palace. A voice rang out from a window�
��a woman singing. She had the most beautiful voice I have ever heard.”

  “Who was she?” asked Odysseus.

  “I do not know,” said Eurylochus. “When we peered through the window, we saw a radiant being weaving at a loom. She looked like a goddess. She had long braids that shone in the sunlight. Her gown was made of jewels that seemed to change colors as she sang. She wove a cloth made from the most delicate silken thread.

  “I wanted to lead us away at once, for I thought of all the terrible dangers we had faced on our journey. But I alone seemed worried. The others called out to her, and she came to her door and invited them in. I held back, hiding, while they rushed for-ward to enter her home. I could not stop them—they followed her into her house, and she closed the door behind them.

  “Peering secretly through a window, I saw her offer them food and wine. Then she turned her back on them, and she mixed a potion of pale honey and wine. As she poured this into their food, I called out to warn them. I feared she was trying to drug them. But the men seemed not to hear—they swallowed her potion willingly.

  “In an instant, they were transformed. They knew not where they were or how they’d gotten there. They could not remember one another’s names—or even their own. While they were in this state, the woman tapped each of them with a wand. And suddenly, they—”

  Eurylochus trembled at the memory. He hid his face, and a chill went through Odysseus. What horrible thing had the witch done to his men?

  Eurylochus looked up at Odysseus. He caught his breath, then finished his dreadful tale.

  “Bristles sprang out all over each man’s body,” he said. “They began to snort and grunt like pigs. Their heads turned into pigs’ heads.”

  The Greeks cried out and drew back in horror.

  “The enchantress then herded the pig-men into a pigsty,” Eurylochus said. “She threw acorns and butternuts to the ground, and they greedily gobbled them up like…like swine in a farmyard!”