Now were Æneas and the men of Troy far from land. And looking back they saw a great light, nor knew what it might be; only they feared some evil hap, knowing the rage that was in Dido’s heart, and what a woman in her madness may do. And indeed the people of the queen were burning her body on the pile which she had made.

But lo! the sky grew dark overhead, and there were signs as of a great storm. And Palinurus, the pilot, cried from the stern, where he stood with the rudder in his hand, “What mean these clouds? What doest thou, Father Neptune?” And he bade the men clear the decks and put out the oars to row, and shift the sails to the wind. Then he spake to Æneas, saying, “Italy we may not hope to reach with this weather. No, not though Jupiter himself promise it to us. But, if I remember me aright, the havens of Sicily are at hand, wherefore let us turn our course thither.”

And Æneas answered, “It is well: for I see that the winds are contrary to us. And, of a truth, there is no land whither I would more gladly go, seeing that my father Anchises is buried there.”

Then they shifted their course, and let their ships run before the wind, and so came with much speed to the land of Sicily. Now Acestes, who was king of the land, was the son of a woman of Troy, and, seeing them from a hilltop, he came to meet them, having the skin of a lion on his shoulders and a javelin in his hand, and refreshed them with food and drink.

The next day at dawn Æneas called the men of Troy together, and spake, saying, “It is a full year since we buried my father in this land, and this, if I err not, is the very day: which I will that we keep holy with festival; for such, indeed, would I do were I wandering in the wilderness of Africa or shut up in MycenÆ itself. Now, therefore, seeing that we are in a land that is friendly to us, let us keep it with solemnity. And let us vow also that we will keep it year by year in the land of Italy, if so be that, having prosperous winds, we shall come thereunto. Likewise, King Acestes gives to us oxen, for every ship two: wherefore make merry and rejoice. And if the ninth day from this be fair, I will that there be games of running in a race, and of throwing the javelin, and of shooting with the bow, and of boxing, and the like. And now make ready for the sacrifice.”

Then he put upon his head a wreath of his mother’s myrtle. And old Acestes did the like, and the boy Ascanius, and the others. Then he came near to the tomb of his father, and poured out two cups of wine and two of new milk, and scattered flowers, and said, “Hail to thee, my father, whom the Gods suffered not to enter with me into the land of Italy.”

And even as he spake there came forth a great snake from the depth of the tomb. Seven coils he had, and on his body were spots of blue and gold, and as many colours as are the colours of the rainbow in the clouds. And when Æneas stood astonied, lo! the snake passed between the altars and tasted of the sacrifice and of that which had been poured out. And Æneas, doubting what this might be, made fresh offerings, two sheep, and two swine, and two black oxen, calling on the spirit of Anchises. And the men of Troy also brought gifts, and slew oxen for sacrifice, and feasted on the flesh, roasting it with fire.

And now the ninth day was come, and the sky was fair. Great was the concourse of people, for the name of King Acestes was famous in the land. Also many came to see the men of Troy, and some to strive in the games. First were the prizes put in the midst, three-footed tables for sacrifices, and crowns, and palms, and weapons, and purple garments, and talents of gold and silver; and then the trumpet sounded and called the people together.

And first of all was the race of ships. Four were they that strove together, Mnestheus with the Sea-Horse, and Gyas with the ChimÆra, and Sergestus with the Centaur, and Cloanthus with the Scylla. Now far out in the sea was a rock, which is covered by the waves when the sea is rough, but stands above them if it be calm, and upon it the cormorants love to bask. Here did Æneas set a great branch of holm-oak as a goal, that the ships should round it and so return. First they cast lots for places, and the captains stood upon the sterns, in purple and gold, and the rowers had garlands of honour about their heads and were anointed with oil. Thus they sat upon the benches, holding the oars for a stroke, and their hearts beat high with hope. And when the trumpet sounded each ship leapt from its place, and the sea foamed with the strokes of many oars. And all the people shouted aloud, having favour for this or for that of the captains. And first of all came Gyas with the ChimÆra, and next to him Cloanthus with the Scylla, for his men were indeed the stronger, but the ship more heavy. And after the Scylla came the Sea-Horse and the Centaur at equal speed, now this one being foremost and now that. But when they were now come near the rock, Gyas, being in the first place, cried to his helmsman Menoetes, “Why goest thou overmuch to the right? Keep thou close to the rock. Let others choose the sea if they will.” But Menoetes, fearing the hidden rocks, turned ever the prow to the sea. Then a second time cried Gyas, “Make for the rock, Menoetes.” And as he spake, the Scylla now came near, taking the inner course between the rock and his ship, and passed him by. Then was he greatly wroth and wept for rage; and laying hold of Menoetes he cast him into the sea, and himself put his hand to the helm and turned it to the rock. But Menoetes, being an old man and weighed down with his garments, hardly climbed upon the rock, and sat thereon. Loud laughed the men to see him fall, and swim, and vomit the salt water from his mouth. But when Mnestheus with the Sea-Horse, and Sergestus with the Centaur, saw what had befallen, they hoped to pass the ChimÆra in the race. Eagerly strove the two together, and Mnestheus, seeing that the Centaur was yet before him in the race, ran among his men as they rowed, crying, “O my friends whom I chose to be my comrades, quit ye like men, even as ye did in the seas of Africa and the Ionian waves. The first place I seek not, but last I would not return.” And the men strove with all their might, bending forward to the stroke. And even then chance gave them that which they desired. For the Centaur, being steered too close, struck on a jutting piece of the rock, and the oars were broken, and the prow stuck fast. And while the men, with poles and the like, were thrusting her forth, Mnestheus with the Sea-Horse had gained the open sea. And first he overtakes Gyas in the ChimÆra, and vanquishes it, seeing that it had lost its helmsman. And now only Cloanthus with the Scylla remains, and upon him also he presses hard. Then did all the people cry aloud, bidding Mnestheus make good speed that he might take the first place. And the one were loath to lose that which they had gained, and the others having done much would do yet more, and would give their lives so that they might prevail. And now, perchance, had the two been equal for the first prize, but Cloanthus stretched forth his hands to the sea and prayed to the Gods that have power therein. “Gods of the sea, wherein I hold my course, help me now, so will I slay a milk-white bull at your altars, and cast the entrails into the waves, and pour clear wine therewith.” And all the band of the NereÏds heard him, and the virgin PanopeÄ; and Portumnus himself with mighty hand drave the vessel forward swifter than the south wind or an arrow from the bow, so that it first touched the shore. Then a herald cried aloud that Cloanthus with the Scylla had won the mastery in the race, and bound a garland of bay about his head. Then to the rowers Æneas gave three oxen, and jars of wine, and a talent of silver; and to the captains gifts for themselves; to the first a scarf broidered with gold with a double border of purple, and on it was wrought the royal boy Ganymede, as he hunted on Mount Ida. Eager was he, and as one that panted in the chase; but on the other side the eagle bare him away, and the old men that had charge of him stretched out their hands and the dogs barked fiercely to the sky. And to the second Æneas gave a hauberk of chain-mail with rings of gold, which he had himself taken from Demoleon by the river of SimoÏs. Scarce could his two servants carry it, so heavy was it; yet Demoleon had worn it, and chased the men of Troy, running at full speed. And the third prize was two cauldrons of bronze and cups of silver embossed. But when all had departed rejoicing with their gifts, lo! Sergestus came creeping home with his ship, which he had scarce won from the rocks, disabled, with one tier of rowers, even as a serpent which a wheel has maimed upon the road, which with his fore part lifts himself up and threatens, but his hind part trails upon the ground. So came Sergestus back to the haven, and to him Æneas gave also his reward, seeing that he had brought back ship and crew, even a woman of Crete, PholoÉ by name, very skilful in the work of the loom.

After this Æneas chose him out a level space, with woods about it, and having sat down in the midst upon a throne, caused it to be proclaimed that all should come who would contend together in running. And many came, both men of Troy and Sicilians. First of all Euryalus, a comely youth, and Nisus with him (now between these two was great love); next, Diores, of the house of Priam, then Salius and Patron, Greeks both of them; and two young hunters, Helymus and Panopes, who were of Sicily and of the court of Acestes, and many others also. Then said Æneas, “To each will I give two javelins of Crete and an axe ornamented with silver, so that none may depart without a gift. And the first three shall have crowns of olive. Also to the first will I give a horse with his furniture, and to the second a quiver after the fashion of the Amazons, with arrows of Thrace, and to fasten it a belt embossed with gold, and a jewel for a clasp thereon. And let the third take this helmet of Greece, and be content.”

Then, when they had ranged them in a line, and the sign was given, they ran. And for a while all were near together. Then Nisus outran the rest; and next to him was Salius, but with a great space between, and the third Euryalus; and after him Helymus, and Diores pressing close upon him, even leaning over his shoulder and ready to outrun him had the course been longer. And now were they at the very end, when Nisus slipped in the blood of an ox which chanced to have been slain in the place, and kept not his feet, but fell, fouling himself with blood and mire. Yet did he not forget Euryalus whom he loved, but lifted himself from the ground and tripped Salius, so that he also rolled upon the earth. So came Euryalus first to the post, and Helymus next, and Diores the third. But Salius made loud complaint to all the assembly, great and small, that he had been vanquished by fraud; yet the people favoured Euryalus, for he was fair to look upon, and fairness ever commendeth virtue. Also Diores was urgent, who else had not won the third prize. Then said Father Æneas, “I change not the order; as each reached the goal so shall each take his prize. Yet may I pity him who suffered wrongfully.” And he gave to Salius the great skin of an African lion, with shaggy hair and claws covered with gold. Then said Nisus, “Yet, if thou givest such prizes to the vanquished and hast such pity on them that fall, what hast thou for me? For surely I had won the first reward but for the ill fortune which Salius also accuseth.” And he showed his face and body foul with mire. And the kindly prince laughed, and gave him a shield, the work of Didymaon.