One day a hunter spotted Enkidu at a water-hole. Terrified and yet fascinated, the man watched this strange creature, at one with the animals, trusted by them and alert to any danger to them. It was this man-like thing, the hunter realized, who had been filling in his traps lately, tripping his snares and frightening game out of the range of his arrows.
The hunter saw the creature at the water-hole the next day and the next and on the third day it even warned the animals of his presence before chasing him away. The hunter went to his wise father for advice.
“The thing is horrifying,” he explained, “and I can take no game while it's around.”
“Can you not kill it or trap it?” his father asked.
“It's too clever to trap and it would be death to try and kill it,” the hunter replied. He was not a timid man, his father knew, and yet at the very thought of the creature his face went pale.
“I see that it is so, my son.”
“This thing is the strongest beast in the country, and of great fortitude, and its courage matches that of Anu,” the hunter went on anxiously.
“You must go to Gilgamesh, king of Uruk, and tell him of the might of this man, for man he is, though wild and unusual. Gilgamesh, too, is of incredible strength and courage. He is also full of wisdom.” The old man then outlined a plan of action to put to Gilgamesh.
“A wild man has come down from the hills,” the hunter explained again, as he stood before Gilgamesh. “He is terrifying and of immense strength such as only you can equal.”
He went on to describe the wild man's habit of siding with the beasts, who regarded him as one of their own.
“He is spoiling my hunting and threatening my livelihood.”
“Tell me about him again,” Gilgamesh requested, curious and impressed with the reported size, strength and wiliness of the wild man.
The hunter waxed lyrical about the strange creature's attributes, none of which was exaggerated, Gilgamesh was certain, despite the hunter's agitated state of mind. Though curious, Gilgamesh had no great interest in the matter and it did not really require his personal attention. With a smile he thought of an excellent ploy.
“Has he a mate?”
“Not that I've seen. I don't believe there could be such a woman.”
“Then, as he is a man, a man alone …” Gilgamesh grinned at everyone around them. “Let's get him laid.”
“What?” cried the hunter, astounded on two counts. This, more or less, was what his father had outlined, though personally he had believed the old man had taken leave of his senses and he had not been disposed to suggest it to Gilgamesh.
“Yes,” Gilgamesh affirmed. “At my expense, find a whore in the city and take her with you to this water-hole where the wild man drinks with the animals. When he sees her, let her remove all her clothes, let her display all the charms of her body to him. He will approach her and be attracted to her and the animals that have lived with him in the wild will see that he's human and disown him.”
The hunter accepted the money Gilgamesh now handed him and went in search of a woman who would agree to his terms. The woman he found was attractive, even to him, but bold and greedy enough to take on the challenge. The pay was commensurate with the nature of the work and the potential danger and she deemed the venture well worth her while. The deal struck, they set off together for the wilderness.
On the third day of their journey they reached their destination, and at a short distance from the water-hole they set up camp. Two days passed before the animals came to drink, accompanied by the wild man. The whore stared in disbelief at him, and was sorely tempted to try to re-negotiate her agreement with the hunter.
“There he is, whore,” whispered the hunter, preparing to withdraw a discreet distance. “Reveal your breasts to him and your nakedness, let him enjoy the charms of your body.”
The woman continued staring, her usual boldness and quick tongue dulled by the surprise appearance of this new client.
“Do not recoil,” the hunter urged, sensing her lack of enthusiasm. “Tempt him, enchant him. When he sees you he will surely be attracted to you. Let him fall on you and then teach him the arts of lovemaking.” The whore duly uncovered her breasts and thrust them in the direction of Enkidu. Soon they had his full attention. He came closer and sniffed the air. As he came still closer he touched her. Drawn inextricably, but perplexed, he studied her. Experienced professional that she was, the woman did not recoil and, indeed, began to warm to her task. Soon desire was racing through Enkidu's body, stoked by the provocative way she discarded the last of her clothing. He fell upon her and took her as only a green, sex-starved creature can. He was like all the other beginners who had come to her. After he had worn himself out, slowly and patiently she began to teach him her arts.
For six days and seven nights Enkidu coupled with the whore, and then, satiated on her charms, he returned to his friends, the desert animals. When he came back early that morning, the gazelles were the first to sense his approach. They had seen him with the woman, and now, smelling her upon him, recognized the man scent. None of the gazelles would let him come near, and fled. The other animals of the desert did the same. Afraid and feeling that his strength had diminished, Enkidu found he could not run as swiftly as before, and, try as he might, he failed to keep up with the fleeing animals.
He returned to the water-hole, where the whore was still waiting, and sat at her feet. For the first time he used the power of speech with which he had been born. Looking up into her face, he told her of his utter bewilderment.
“You have become wise, Enkidu,” she said. “You are now like a god, so why roam the desert with the animals? Let me take you to Uruk, city of the great walls, to the holy sanctuary, the abode of Anu and Ishtar, where Gilgamesh, who is perfect in strength and might, lives. Here,” she added, “he controls the people like a wild bull.”
Nodding, he accepted her advice and decided to go with her, for he needed a friend. This was not the first time she had spoken of Uruk and of Gilgamesh. The latter's doings were on everyone's lips then, and due to divine inspiration she was often to complain to Enkidu of Gilgamesh while praising his strength.
“Let's go then to this place you describe, where Gilgamesh rules like a wild bull,” Enkidu said, and to please her, he added. “I will challenge and provoke him. I'll cry out in the very heart of Uruk that I am the strongest.”
“Ah, now Enkidu …” the whore laughed, impressed in spite of herself.
“Yes. I am the one who changes destinies,” Enkidu shouted at the sky. He too was inspired. “The one born in the desert is harsher and more powerful.”
“We will go now to Uruk and let him see your face. I'll point him out to you because I know where to find him, and you can see our wonderful city. You will like it, I'm sure. People wear the most beautiful gems and there are celebrations every day. The boys are brave and the girls are pretty and fragrant. Am I not pretty and fragrant? We can make even the most prominent citizens leave their beds for ours,” she laughed.
“What are beds, exactly?” Enkidu asked.
“I will show you,” the whore laughed again, “Enkidu, who cries out for life. I will also show Gilgamesh, who is delighted with life, for you must look at him and study him. You'll see that he is all puffed up with virility and might. He wears splendid objects on his body, but he is stronger than you,” the whore went on, now a little worried about Enkidu, or perhaps trying to egg him on. “He never rests, day or night. You'd better forget your exaggeration and bragging. Gilgamesh is protected by the gods Anu, Enlil and Ea, who favour him with understanding.”
“We will see,” Enkidu shrugged. He was not simply confident, and in his soul he could not fear Gilgamesh. Perhaps the goddess Aruru could not bring herself to cause the two great beings she created to hate one another. Certainly, the prospect of meeting Gilgamesh filled Enkidu with excitement and joy, even though he supposed they must fight, perhaps to the death when they came together.
&n
bsp; Suddenly the whore looked into Enkidu's eyes and a shiver ran through her. Goose flesh covered her bare skin and she knew something absolutely without being told, without thinking it or learning it in any ordinary way, but in an instant from somewhere outside herself.
“Before you even leave the desert, Gilgamesh will see you in a dream,” she said, gazing at Enkidu in amazement.
And so it was that at that moment, Gilgamesh had woken from a dream and rising had gone to his mother who had also just come down from bed. Sitting with her over their morning meal he seemed puzzled and she asked the reason, so he told her of his dream, hoping she might interpret it.
“I dreamt I was walking among great heroes, when the stars appeared and one of them fell upon me like the luminous meteor, Anu. I tried to lift him but he was too heavy. I tried to move him but couldn't. The people of Uruk gathered around him, they congregated and pushed with the heroes around him and my friends kissed his feet … Then, strangest of all, I knew I loved him. I bent over him as I would over a woman and embraced him, though not in a carnal way, and I lifted him then and laid him at your feet, for suddenly you were there, too. And then, somehow, in the dream, you made him my equal. Oddly, I now recall a similar dream earlier, only there was this axe, discarded in the walls of Uruk. Again the people gathered around, and again I loved the axe and bent over and embraced it like I would a woman. Just as in the other dream, you appeared and I placed the axe at your feet and you made it my equal.”
The wise and perceptive Ninsun thought a moment or two about her son's dreams and then smiled at him.
“Gilgamesh, in the first you dreamt of seeing your equal in a meteor from the sky. You could not lift it or move it yet you loved it and I seemed to make it your equal. I see this as the coming of a strong friend, a helper and friend in need. Now, the axe you saw in the other dream was a man. Because you loved it and embraced it as you would a woman and because I again made it your equal, it also means that a strong friend, a helper, will come to you. He would be the strongest in the country, of great might, as strong as Anu in his resolve.”
“Perhaps,” Gilgamesh grinned, pleased with his mother's explanation but wondering at the possibility of such a thing. “Yes, perhaps this is a good omen, maybe it will come true and by the will of the night there will be a true friend to me and I a loyal friend to him.”
Just as Gilgamesh was talking to his mother about his dreams, the harlot and Enkidu had started to walk to civilization, though the poor, wild man had become assailed by doubts. The whore had torn the long hem of her dress off to make a garment of sorts for Enkidu and a very short dress for herself. Now, wearing this loin cloth had made him selfconscious and he sat on the ground, wondering whether he should go on after all.
In some ways his enjoyment of the delights of passion had made it easy for him to forget he was a son of the wilderness, but his doubts about the wisdom of entering the city were profound.
“But Enkidu,” the whore whispered, “whenever I look at you, you seem more like a god to me. Wandering with the animals is no place for you. Let me show you Uruk with its great souks and holy sanctuary, as I promised. Arise, Enkidu, and let me take your hand to Eanna where Gilgamesh lives in perfect strength and skill …” Suddenly she stopped, and was moved to speak as she had not intended. “And … And you will love him as you love yourself.”
Enkidu looked oddly at the whore, who looked oddly back at him. He watched as she shook the confusion out of her head and went on in a more normal tone.
“So, rise from the ground, the bed of the shepherd (for I also promised to show you a real bed), for in a city beds are warm and comfortable and what you do in them is yet more pleasurable as a result. Just look at the state of your elbows and knees,” she laughed, leading him by the hand like a child.
After a few more hours walking Enkidu and the whore arrived at the huts of some shepherds where, despite her encouraging words, she thought it best to keep him until he was more accustomed to people and their ways. The curious looks the shepherds cast at him told her it would be ill-advised to introduce him to too much civilization too soon. The shepherds were not exactly sophisticated, urbane types and yet Enkidu both frightened and amused them. Noting the looks they gave her, she also knew a moneymaking opportunity when she saw one, and so it was decided that they should stay awhile.
It was in this company that Enkidu was first given bread to eat. Having been reared on the milk of wild animals and sparse vegetation, he did not know what to do with it.
“Eat the food, Enkidu,” prompted the harlot, “for it is the substance of life, as grass is to your gazelles.” Then she gave him a cup of strong drink, saying; “And drink this, for it is the custom of the land.”
Enkidu ate bread until he was full and drank seven goblets of strong drink, which roused his spirits and made him feel ridiculously happy. Indeed, he was so joyous his face shone brightly. He was also taught how to clean his body and body hair, and how to anoint it with oil. His appearance became less remarkable as a result, and when he put on clothes, he was said to look passsably human.
To earn his keep and help his new friends, he took up his weapons and went out to hunt lions. This very much eased the minds of the shepherds and, as the strongest man among them, he became their guardian and protector.
These were very good times for Enkidu, though his friend, the whore, began to long for gayer company, and the superior comforts and greater profits of the city. Their life together among the rough sheepmen was not to last.
One day a traveller covered in dust, though dressed like a man from town, rushed breathlessly into the encampment, a desperate look on his face. Enkidu, who was unused to strangers and such excited behaviour, was very curious about him and why he was speaking to the shepherds with such animation and growing outrage. It was not them he was angry at, that much was clear to Enkidu, but why was here?
Enkidu asked the whore to investigate: “Please, go and see what that man is saying. Find out why he is here and what his name is.”
She did far more than that; she brought the man himself and most of the band of shepherds over to Enkidu. They all seemed anxious to know how he would react to the man's news. Perhaps, Enkidu thought, the fellow had come precisely because word was about that he, Enkidu, was there. Pride mixed with trepidation gripped his heart as he saw that this was indeed true.
“It is dreadful,” the man from town said.
“Why are you in such a hurry, fellow?” Enkidu asked “And why have you come here on what must have been an arduous journey?”
“He broke into the meeting house,” the man said, wide-eyed with amazement and horror. “The one dedicated to weddings. I tell you the city is defiled and shamed. He has forced on our ill-fated city, cruel and shameful deeds along with his slave labour. They have set up the drum for him, to accompany his voice while he chooses the bride he desires.”
“What does all this mean?” Enkidu looked from the whore to the man and to the shepherds in bewilderment. “And who are we talking about?”
“Gilgamesh, the King of Uruk, of the souks and great walls.”
“The drum is to assemble the people,” the whore explained.
“And Gilgamesh would choose a bride? Is this so bad?” Enkidu asked, nonplussed.
“They set up the drum,” the man said, gaining control of himself and now speaking clearly and simply, “so that the people assemble and he can choose the brides before they marry. So that,” the man went on with particular emphasis, “so that Gilgamesh can be the first lover before the bridegrooms.”
“He would have them all before their new husbands, before …”
“Any he wants,” the whore shrugged. She understood why everyone was so upset, though nothing in the man's story particularly moved her.
Enkidu regarded the act as one of wicked arrogance. Surely, in this world, which he had been told was so much superior to the one he was used to, such an injustice could not happen. A firm resolve swelled within
him. If he was to become a part of this world, it mustn't be allowed.
Later that day Enkidu and the harlot set off for Uruk. She planned to show him where he could find Gilgamesh and then leave him to his own devices. The woman was fond of him, no question about it, but she had her career to consider and lately, because of her attachment to him, it had suffered.
People stared at Enkidu as they entered the city and gradually he seemed to draw a crowd of onlookers in his wake. Somehow the people had known of his coming – that is, his existence was known about, and the people believed that one day he would be among them. By means of some unconscious communication from the gods, through their prayers, and their hopes and fears, they recognized Enkidu. There was relief and joy at seeing him, though none could say exactly why, or in what connection.
“He is in form much like Gilgamesh,” they said in whispers, when word of where they were going spread from the whore to the people crowding round the couple.
“Yes, like Gilgamesh, but shorter, though bigger boned.”
“He is a man of the wilderness,” they opined.
“He has suckled the milk of the wild animals of the desert,” another surmised.
“The rattle of arms in Uruk,” someone at last prophesied, “will not cease.”
And then they saw the truth plainly and everyone, especially the hard worked, drilled, wrestled with, and bride-cheated younger men, rejoiced.
“A worthy opponent and rival hero has appeared to match the comely hero-king.”
“Yes, there has come to the god-like Gilgamesh his equal.”
Throughout the city word spread and a great throng now followed Enkidu as he was guided to his confrontation with Gilgamesh. Everyone wanted to see the battle royal that would surely ensue when the two met.
Myths and Legends from Around the World Page 6
