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Updated: May 21, 2025
Of these, Athens contributed 180, Sparta and the rest of the Peloponnesus were represented by 89 and the remainder were made up of squadrons from the island states. Some of these island contingents contained a type of ship different from the triremes, the penteconter. This was a galley with only one bank of oars, but these were long sweeps, each manned by five oarsmen.
So the Carthaginians ceased from troubling, but before the penteconter and the Bozra bore away to join the remaining fleet, another deed was done in sight of all three ships. For whilst Themistocles was with Cimon, Simonides and Sicinnus had taken Glaucon to the Nausicaä’s forecastle.
The trireme, pulling only one of her banks, was dropping behind, her navarch leaving the tiring chase to the penteconter, but the latter hung on doggedly. “Curse those war-ships with their long oars and heavy crews,” growled Hib, reappearing above the hatch with the prisoners. “The penteconter’s only nine furlongs off.”
The penteconter and her prize had long since faded below the horizon. With almost wistful eyes men watched the islets as they glided past one after another, Thera now, then Ios, and presently the greater Paros and Naxos lay before them. They relieved oars whenever possible.
They had taken from the penteconter all her spare rowers, and to make the great ship bound over the steel-gray deep was children’s play. “We must save Hellas, and we can!” That was the thought of all from Themistocles to the meanest thranite. So at the beginning when the task seemed light and hands were strong. The breeze that had betrayed the Bozra ever sank lower. Presently it died altogether.
But a violent screech came from Lampaxo, who had just comprehended the fate awaiting. “Ai! ai! save me, fellow-Hellenes!” she bawled toward the penteconter, “a citizeness of Athens, the most patriotic woman in the city, slaughtered by Barbarians—” “Silence the squealing sow!” roared Hasdrubal. “They’ll hear her on the war-ship. Aft with her and overboard at once.”
The penteconter was an early prototype of the galley of the Christian era. The Persians had been reduced by this time to about 600 ships, although there had been numerous reënforcements since the disaster at Cape Sepias.
Glaucon went last; no man loving death enough to come within reach of the axe. Hasdrubal saw his victims escaping under his eyes and groaned. “There is only one hatchway. We must force it. Darts, belaying-pins, ballast stones—fling anything down. It’s for life or death!” “The penteconter is four furlongs away!” shrieked a sailor, growing gray under his dark skin.
He fell in a heap beside the Libyan. Another howl from the sailors. “Not Melkarth, but Baal the Dragon-Slayer. We are lost. Who can contend with him?” “Cowards!” thundered Hasdrubal, whipping the sword from his thigh, “do you not know these three sniff our true business? If they live when the penteconter comes, it’s not prison but Sheol that’s waiting. Their lives or ours.
Your hands are just itching for the nails, I warrant!” Hasdrubal redoubled his vows to Moloch. In place of his daughter he substituted his son, though the lad was fourteen years old and the darling of his parents. But the god was not tempted even now. The attack on the cabin had called the sailors from the oars. The penteconter consequently had gained fast upon them.
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