The Athenians had not yet abandoned their lines on the southern side of Epipolae, and from this position they watched the arrival of the new army raised by Gylippus, as it defiled down the slope, and poured through the gates of Syracuse to swell the ranks of their enemies. In their own camp the state of things was growing worse every day, and even Nicias now became convinced that to remain any longer would be sheer madness. With the hearty concurrence of his colleagues, he gave his vote for immediate departure, and the order was secretly passed round the camp that every man should hold himself in readiness to go on board, as soon as the signal was given. It was necessary to proceed with caution, for if the enemy were informed of their purpose, they would have to fight their way through the Syracusan fleet. The preparations were accordingly made with as little noise as possible and in a short time all was ready for the voyage. Night sank down on the Athenian camp, but among all that vast multitude no one thought of sleep, for the whole host was waiting in breathless eagerness for the signal to embark. Over the eastern waters the full moon was shining, making a long path of silver and pointing the way to home. But suddenly a dark shadow touched the outer rim of that gleaming disk, and crept stealthily on, until the whole face of the moon was veiled in darkness. A whisper, a murmur, a shudder went round among those anxious watchers, and before the shadow had passed away, ten thousand tongues were eagerly discussing the meaning of that mysterious portent. Most were agreed that it was a warning from heaven, forbidding their departure until the angry powers had been appeased by sacrifice and prayer. In the mind of Nicias, enslaved by the grossest superstition, there was no room for doubt. He was surrounded by prophets, whose advice he sought on every occasion, and guided by them he proclaimed that for thrice nine days, the time required for a complete circuit of the moon, there could be no talk of departing. But the Athenians were soon engaged in a sterner task than the vain rites of propitiation and penitential observance. The news of their intended retreat, and its untoward interruption, so raised the spirits of the Syracusans, that they resolved to risk another sea-fight, and after some days spent in training their crews, they sailed out with seventy-six ships, and offered battle, and Gylippus at the same time attacked the Athenian lines by land. The Athenians succeeded in repulsing the assault on their walls, but in the encounter between the fleets, though they out-numbered the enemy by ten ships, they suffered a decisive defeat. Eurymedon was slain, and eighteen vessels fell into the hands of the Syracusans, who put all the crews to the sword.