Sick at heart as he was, Odysseus thought only of revenge. Earnestly he besought Athene for wisdom. Studying every object in the place, his eye returned again and again to the bole of a green olive tree which lay beside the pen. In size it was fit for the mast of a merchant ship of twenty oars, breasting the open sea; yet clearly the Cyclops was drying it out to use for a club-like staff.
Long did the hero ponder. And at last his jaw set and a grim smile played upon his face. His plan was made.
While his followers bemoaned their fate, he stepped across the cavern, drew his short sword and hacked off a six-foot section of this tree-trunk. Rolling it across to his men, he bade them shape it down. When it was smooth, he pointed the tip and charred it in the blazing fire till the point was hard. This weapon he hid carefully beneath the dry dung with which the cave was littered.
He explained to his wondering comrades that his idea was to thrust this great stake into the giant's eye while he slept; and he suggested that they choose by lot four of their number who should help him in this daring attack. They did so, and Odysseus noted with
satisfaction that chance had given him the very resolute helpers he would have selected. Heartening them as best he could, through the long trying hours of inaction, the leader awaited their jailer's return.
Towards evening they heard those same portentous sounds of the monster's coming. The door-stone was lifted aside. In poured the jostling flocks. To the delight of Odysseus not a sheep was left outside: that fitted in exactly with his crafty scheme. He contained himself while the giant performed his evening tasks; even when two more of the Greeks were slain and devoured, he made no sign.
When this ghastly meal was despatched, however, he stepped forward, holding in his hands a bowl filled with the dark Ciconian wine.
"Here, Cyclops," said he. "Drink after your meal and see what we had aboard our ship. I brought it as an offering, thinking it might move you to send me home. But you defy the laws. How shall a stranger ever come to you again from any people after such a wicked deed?"
The giant drained the bowl at one draught, and a look of pleasure spread over the horrible features.
"Give me more, friend," he said. "And tell me your name that I may please you with a stranger's gift. The Cyclops' fruitful fields bear grapes with delicious wine in their heavy clusters; but this is truly nectar and ambrosia."