Then Autolycus answered her, and said: “My daughter's husband and my daughter, give him whatsoever name I say. Lo, inasmuch as I am come hither as one that has been angered with many, both men and women, over the fruitful earth, therefore let the name by which the child is named be Odysseus.1
And for my part,
when he is a man grown and comes to the great house of his mother's kin at Parnassus
, where are my possessions, I will give him thereof and send him back rejoicing.”
It was for this reason that Odysseus had come, that Autolycus might give him the glorious gifts. And Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus
clasped his hands in welcome and greeted him with gentle words, and Amphithea, his mother's mother, took Odysseus in her arms and kissed his head and both his beautiful eyes. But Autolycus called to his glorious sons to make ready the meal, and they hearkened to his call.
At once they led in a bull, five years old, which they flayed and dressed, and cut up all the limbs. Then they sliced these cunningly and pierced them with spits, and roasted them skilfully and distributed the portions. So, then, all day long till set of sun
they feasted, nor did their hearts lack aught of the equal feast. But when the sun set and darkness came on they lay down to rest and took the gift of sleep.
But as soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, they went forth to the hunt, the hounds and
the sons of Autolycus too, and with them went goodly Odysseus. Up the steep mountain Parnassus
, clothed with forests, they climbed, and presently reached its windy hollows. The sun was now just striking on the fields, as he rose from softly-gliding, deep-flowing Oceanus,
when the beaters came to a glade. Before them went the hounds, tracking the scent, and behind them the sons of Autolycus, and among these the goodly Odysseus followed, close upon the hounds, brandishing his long spear. Now thereby a great wild boar was lying in a thick lair,
through which the strength of the wet winds could never blow nor the rays of the bright sun beat, nor could the rain pierce through it, so thick it was; and fallen leaves were there in plenty. Then about the boar there came the noise of the feet of men and dogs
as they pressed on in the chase, and forth from his lair he came against them with bristling back and eyes flashing fire, and stood there at bay close before them. Then first of all Odysseus rushed on, holding his long spear on high in his stout hand, eager to smite him; but the boar was too quick for him and struck him
above the knee, charging upon him sideways, and with his tusk tore a long gash in the flesh, but did not reach the bone of the man. But Odysseus with sure aim smote him on the right shoulder, and clear through went the point of the bright spear, and the boar fell in the dust with a cry, and his life flew from him.