Nevertheless when the sea was stirred by violent blasts which were just rising from the rivers about evening, forspent with toil, they ceased.

But Heracles by the might of his arms pulled the weary rowers along all together, and made the strong-knit timbers of the ship to quiver.

But when, eager to reach the Mysian mainland, they passed along in sight of the mouth of Rhyndacus and the great cairn of Aegaeon, a little way from Phrygia, then Heracles, as he ploughed up the furrows of the roughened surge, broke his oar in the middle.

And one half he held in both his hands as he fell sideways, the other the sea swept away with its receding wave.

And he sat up in silence glaring round; for his hands were unaccustomed to lie idle.
Now at the hour when from the field some delver or ploughman goes gladly home to his hut, longing for his evening meal, and there on the threshold, all squalid with dust, bows his wearied knees, and, beholding his hands worn with toil, with many a curse reviles his belly; at that hour the heroes reached the homes of the Cianian land near the Arganthonian mount and the outfall of Cius.