that case perish miserably of hunger and thirst. Restrained by this
reflection, he put up his sword, and went back to his companions to
wait for day.

Polyphemus rose early, and after milking his flocks he laid hold of
two more of the miserable captives, butchered them in the same manner,
and made his breakfast on their warm, quivering bodies. Then he drove
forth his sheep and goats, pushing aside the door of rock, and set it
back in its place, as a man sets the lid on a quiver. They heard his
wild cries, as he called to his flocks, and their loud bleatings as he
drove them out to pasture; then the sounds grew fainter and fainter,
and silence settled on the vast, shadowy cave.

Forthwith Odysseus began to devise means to escape from that murderous
den, and avenge the slaughter of his friends. As he peered about in
the twilight, he caught sight of a mighty stake of green olive-wood,
tall and stout as the mast of a twenty-oared galley,[1] which had been
cut by the Cyclops for a staff, and laid aside to season. Odysseus cut
off about a fathom's length, and with the help of his comrades made it
round and smooth, and tapered it off at one end to a point. Then he
hardened the sharp end in the fire, and when it was ready he hid the
rude weapon away under a pile of refuse. Of the twelve who had
followed him from the ship, there only remained eight; four of these
were chosen by lot to aid him in his plan of vengeance; and Odysseus
noted with satisfaction that they were the stoutest and bravest of the
company. All being now ready, they sat down to wait for the return of
Polyphemus.

[Footnote 1: Imitated, with characteristic amplification, by Milton,
"Paradise Lost," i. 292 (Satan's spear).]