"Heave ho! Heave ho!" they sang, "for the three-cornered isle of the west! Heave ho! for the fountain that fails not, and the whispering willow-trees! Heave ho! for the waters that are wedded with the waters of our own native land!" Then, as the breeze filled their sails, they pulled in their oars, and looked back for the last time at the home they were leaving for ever. Proudly between two seas did the rock of Corinth raise her head, encircled with a diadem of walls and towers. With tears in their eyes they watched her sink, and soon all around them was nothing but the waste of the grey sea waves. Thus did they leave the old land for the new with joy and sorrow, hope and fear in their hearts, and sailed away to the west, to the land of their dreams, the three-cornered isle of which the oracle had spoken. For when Archias, their leader, had consulted the priestess at Delphi, she had answered, "To Trinacria the god bids thee go, the three-cornered isle of the west. There on Ortygia, the sacred islet, shalt thou build thee a home, by the side of the fountain that fails not, Arethusa, whose waters are wedded with the waters of thine own native land." So, in obedience to her words, Archias set sail with his little band. And they found Ortygia and the spring Arethusa in the shade of the whispering willows. There they planted the seed of that city, which grew to be the greatest in all Sicily and the mistress of the Mediterranean--Syracuse, proud Corinth's prouder daughter. For her sake many a battle has been fought and many a weary war been waged; for through long centuries men knew that whoever held the keys of Syracuse held the keys of power in their hands. But what did the priestess mean when she bade Archias go to the isle whose waters were wedded with the waters of his own native land? And how came it that when he and his band reached Sicily they found there the flowers and the fruit of the home they had left, and streams that ran in and out of the limestone rocks like the streams of the Peloponnese? I will tell you. Arethusa, around whose spring in Ortygia the whispering willows bent, was once a nymph, who dwelt in the Arcadian woodlands and followed Artemis the maiden huntress, over hill and over dale. Artemis loved her above all the other nymphs who were her handmaids, and as a sign of her favour she would let her carry her bow and her quiver full of darts. On many a hot summer's day did Arethusa and her companions bathe with their mistress in the cool deep mountain pools. Above their heads the great oaks of the forest spread their branches, and the grass beneath their feet was fresh and green. So long as they stayed by the side of their mistress the nymphs were safe from harm, for no god or goddess in all the land was so powerful as Artemis, and she knew how to protect her own.