On the tenth the fury of the wind abated, and they sighted an unknown shore. Odysseus stood in close to land, anchored, and sent a party ashore for fresh water. They prepared food on the beach, and ate and drank greedily after their exhausting vigil.
The leader then despatched two sailors inland, with a third as a herald, to see what manner of folk inhabited these shores.
They did not return, so he set out after them himself. He soon came upon them amid a company of the natives, and perceived that the trouble arose from the friendliness of these, not from any desire to harm the visitors. For this was the famed land of the Lotus-eaters, and after their custom they had given the sailors their own flowery food: straightway the wanderers had lost all remembrance of their errand, of ships, comrades, leader and home; they desired naught save to eat of the lotus forever in this place of pleasant dreams.
Finding that they hearkened neither to his commands nor entreaties, Odysseus dragged them weeping back to the ships by very force, bound them fast, and stowed them under the rowers' benches. In haste he bade his crews embark, lest they too eat of this
insidious food; and the moment they were safely aboard, the oars beat the water into foam, as they swept ahead to whatever might next await them.
On they cruised, across strange seas, with no knowledge of how to steer, but impelled ever forward on a chance course. It did not seem to matter particularly when they ran into a fog so thick that they could scarcely see far enough about to keep together.
Murky night settled down upon them. The blore of wind and sea seemed to increase and fill all space; yet there was no sign of rocks or breakers ahead, nor could straining eyes make out anything to steer by. They could but hold on their course, in dread of what any moment might bring, while the all-pervading roar grew ever more threatening.
Then, as if by magic, the tossing galleys suddenly rode peacefully on calm water. The thunderous roar was stilled, so that one might hear the ripple of the curling wavelets about the bows. And presently the staunch galleys slid gently up on a sloping beach.
Still they could see naught about them. But it was enough for those hardened wanderers that they were once more safe for the moment. Lowering all the sails, they stumbled ashore, lay down on the sand, and fell into the heavy sleep of passed fatigue and danger.
Rosy-fingered dawn opened their eyes upon a scene of beauty. They lay at the head of a landlocked basin, through whose narrow entrance, between tall cliffs, they had unwittingly steered safely in the blackness of the night. Close beside them a silvery stream