“Περὶ δὲ θανάτου τῶν τοιούτων ἀκήκοα λόγον ἀνδρὸς οὐκ ἄφρονος οὐδ’ ἀλαζόνος. Αἰμιλιανοῦ γὰρ τοῦ ῤήτορος, οὗ καὶ ὑμῶν ἔνιοι διακηκόασιν, Ἐπιθέρσης ἦν πατήρ, ἐμὸς πολίτης καὶ διδάσκαλος γραμματικῶν. οὗτος ἔφη ποτὲ πλέων εἰς Ἰταλίαν ἐπιβῆναι νεὼς, ἐμπορικὰ χρήματα καὶ συχνοὺς ἐπιβάτας ἀγούσης: ἑσπέρας δ’ ἤδη περὶ τὰς Ἐχινάδας νήσους ἀποσβῆναι τὸ πνεῦμα, καὶ τὴν ναῦν διαφερομένην πλησίον γενέσθαι Παξῶν: ἐγρηγορέναι δὲ τοὺς πλείστους, πολλοὺς δὲ καὶ πίνειν ἔτι δεδειπνηκότας: ἐξαίφνης δὲ φωνὴν ἀπὸ τῆς νήσου τῶν Παξῶν ἀκουσθῆναι, Θαμοῦν τινος βοῇ καλοῦντος, ὥστε θαυμάζειν. ὁ δὲ Θαμοῦς Αἰγύπτιος ἦν κυβερνήτης οὐδὲ τῶν ἐμπλεόντων γνώριμος πολλοῖς ἀπ’ ὀνόματος. δὶς μὲν οὖν κληθέντα σιωπῆσαι, τὸ δὲ τρίτον ὑπακοῦσαι τῷ καλοῦντι: κἀκεῖνον ἐπιτείνοντα τὴν φωνὴν εἰπεῖν, ‘ ὁπόταν γένῃ κατὰ τὸ Παλῶδες, ἀπάγγειλον ὅτι Πὰν ὁ μέγας τέθνηκε.’ τοῦτ’ ἀκούσαντας, ὁ Ἐπιθέρσης ἔφη, πάντας ἐκπλαγῆναι: καὶ διδόντας ἑαυτοῖς λόγον εἴτε ποιῆσαι βέλτιον εἴη τὸ προστεταγμένον εἴτε μὴ πολυπραγμονεῖν ἀλλ’ ἐᾶν, οὕτω γνῶναι τὸν Θαμοῦν, εἰ μὲν εἴη πνεῦμα, παραπλεῖν ἡσυχίαν ἔχοντα, νηνεμίας δὲ καὶ γαλήνης περὶ τὸν τόπον γενομένης ἀνειπεῖν ὃ ἤκουσεν. ὡς οὖν ἐγένετο κατὰ τὸ Παλῶδες, οὔτε πνεύματος ὄντος οὔτε κλύδωνος, ἐκ πρύμνης βλέποντα τὸν Θαμοῦν πρὸς τὴν γῆν εἰπεῖν, ὥσπερ ἤκουσεν, ὅτι Πὰν ὁ μέγας τέθνηκεν. οὐ φθῆναι δὲ παυσάμενον αὐτόν, καὶ γενέσθαι μέγαν οὐχ ἑνὸς ἀλλὰ πολλῶν στεναγμὸν ἅμα θαυμασμῷ μεμιγμένον. οἷα δὲ πολλῶν ἀνθρώπων παρόντων, ταχὺ τὸν λόγον ἐν Ῥώμῃ σκεδασθῆναι, καὶ τὸν Θαμοῦν γενέσθαι μετάπεμπτον ὑπὸ Τιβερίου Καίσαρος. οὕτω δὲ πιστεῦσαι τῷ λόγῳ τὸν Τιβέριον, ὥστε διαπυνθάνεσθαι καὶ ζητεῖν περὶ τοῦ Πανός: εἰκάζειν δὲ τοὺς περὶ αὐτὸν φιλολόγους συχνοὺς ὄντας τὸν ἐξ Ἑρμοῦ καὶ Πηνελόπης.”
As for death of the gods, I have heard the story of a man who was neither fool nor fraud: the father of Aemilianus, the rhetorician whom some of you have heard speak, Epitherses, who was from my hometown and taught me grammar. He said he was once sailing on a ship laden with goods for sale and numerous passengers to Italy. And it was already evening when, near to the Echinades islands, the wind stopped and the ship drifted close to Paxi. Most of the passengers were still awake and many had not yet even finished their digestifs, when from the isle of Paxi was heard a voice loudly calling Thamus, which astonished everyone—as Thamus was an Egyptian helmsmen whose name was unknown even to many of the passengers. Two times Thamus was called without reply, but the third time he headed the call, and the man raised his voice, shouting: ‘When you sail down to Palodes, announce that the Great Pan is dead.’ Epitherses said that when they heard this, everyone was astounded and they deliberated among themselves whether it were better to carry out the instruction or better not to meddle and let the matter rest. Thamus then decided that if there was a wind he would sail on and remain silent, but that if there was a calm air and a still sea about the place, then he would proclaim what he heard. And so when he came opposite the Palodes, and there was neither wind nor wave, Thamus peering landward from the stern spoke exactly he had heard, that Pan the Great was dead. And before he had finished there was great groaning, not from one man but from many and at the same time mixed with cries of astonishment. And as many men were present, the story soon spread throughout Rome and Thamus was summoned by Tiberius Caesar. Tiberius was so convinced by his story that he made inquiries and investigations concerning Pan and the classical philologists, who were many, offered the conjecture that this message was made in regards to the son of Hermes and Penelope, [a lesser deity also named Pan].
Plutarch, De defectu oraculorum, 419A-E. My translation.