In wild panic the people of Æneas fled to their ships, and the hollow cliffs resounded to the beat of a thousand oars as they made haste to reach the open sea. Polyphemus heard, and waded out into deep water in the direction of the sound, with arms outstretched, to seize one of the flying vessels. But, finding himself outpaced, he lifted up his voice, and sent forth a colossal shout, which was bellowed back from the caverns of Ætna, and reached the far-off shores of Italy. Roused by that tremendous signal his brethren came rushing from the woods, and gathered in dread conclave, filling all the beach. Like towering oaks they stood, or tall cypress-trees, glaring with orbs of fire at the Trojan fleet and the dashing oars. But the wind blew fair, and soon that tall cohort dwindled to pigmy size in the distance, and the rugged outlines of Ætna grew fainter and fainter. Along the eastern and southern shore of Sicily they fly, where the blue waters lap softly round the feet of gently sloping hills, one day to be the site of many a famous city—Syracuse and Agrigentum and Gela. Having rounded the western cape of the island they come to anchor in the harbor of Drepanum. Here a great sorrow fell upon Æneas; his aged father, Anchises, who had followed him through all his wanderings, and cheerfully endured many perils and privations, passed gently away, worn out with years and sorrows; and his bones were laid in foreign soil, far from the land of his birth. So far the Trojan emigrants have been suffered to proceed, slowly and by winding ways, but without any direct hindrance, towards their destined goal. But now a new power appears on the scene, and a hostile influence begins to work against them, which will henceforth dog their footsteps for many years. That power is Juno, who had ever been Troy’s bitterest and most implacable enemy. Many causes concurred to keep alive her hatred against that devoted race—the judgment of Paris, who had given the prize of beauty to her rival, Venus; the high favor shown to Ganymede, a lovely Trojan boy, whom Jupiter had made immortal, and exalted to be his cup-bearer; and the ten long years of hope deferred and anxious toil when the Greeks were fighting against Troy. Besides all these bitter memories, a new and pressing occasion had lately arisen to fan the smouldering embers of her resentment into a blaze. On the northern coast of Africa, fronting the shores of Sicily, a colony from Tyre had recently founded the city of Carthage, and the capricious Queen of Heaven had centered all her affections on the Tyrian settlement, forgetting the ancient ties which bound her to the Grecian states. And now she had heard a prophecy, foretelling that a great nation was fated to spring from the blood of the Trojan exiles which should one day level the towers of Carthage with the dust and found a new empire upon her ruins.