Showdown
on the Frontier
A story about Ancient Sumer
by James W. Bell © 2001
A sweaty little boy came running down the towpath. “We’re being attacked!” he shouted. “They’ve come again!”
Sheshkallum put down his weeding hoe, wiped the perspiration from his forehead and looked up. The youngster was scarcely more than ten years old and seemed almost exhausted. “What’s this?” he asked the lad. “Who’s coming?”
The boy stopped to catch his breath. “Bandits.” He gestured wildly behind him. “Horned bandits from the mountainlands.”
The farmer peered over the boy’s head. “I don’t see any. Where are they?”
The boy turned and pointed at the specks in the sky over the Gibil Canal. “Up there. Those are the zu-birds coming with them. Can’t you see them?”
“By the gods, boy, those are zu-birds. What the hell,” he muttered as he ran to his reed house. “Lisha!” he shouted to his wife, “get the children and take them down to Apisala.”
His wife came to the door followed by three children who cowered behind her. “What’s happening?”
“Sounds like horned bandits are raiding again. You’d best get moving.”
“What about you, Shesh?”
“I’ll stay and join the upwater farmers when they show up. If it’s a serious raid, we’ll try a defense line at the bridge that's over our sluice.” He took a last look at her and his three small children. “It’ll insure you and the others will have time enough to escape.” He grabbed her and gave her a hug. “Now, go!” he ordered and watched her hurry off with the children.
>>
Fleeing women and children came running down the towpath and Sheshkallum motioned them on. When the farmers finally arrived, a scraggly lot called from their fields, he welcomed them. “I have an open sluice with a bridge over it a short ways down the canal,” he told them. “Maybe we could tear down the bridge and make a stand on the other side of the sluice.”
“Sounds as good a place as any,” the tallest of the group said. “If the bandits hadn’t stopped to loot some of our homes, we’d likely all be dead already.”
“So the attack is that serious?” Sheshkallum asked.
“It’s them damned zu-birds,” the tall farmer answered. “Every time we form a skirmish line and get ready for the bandits – wham – the zu-birds come down from overhead and attack us from behind.” He shook his head. “We’ve lost near a quarter of our men.”
“The zu-birds actually attacked you?” When the old man nodded, Sheshkallum went on, “I’m not understanding this. Zu-birds are supposed to be under the control of the Skylord. Why would he let his birds help the bandits?”
The farmer grimaced and shrugged instead of answering.
“Well, dammit,” Sheshkallum said, “let’s get down to the bridge. If we destroy it, anyone hoping to get to Apisala will have to wade. We can hold them there."
>>
As the farmers made their way over the bridge, a handful of zu-birds suddenly dived out of the sky and attacked with extended talons and outstretched claws. It took all the farmers’ efforts, whacking at the talons with hoes and staffs, to keep from being clawed or carried off. But, even as they fended off the birds, they noticed the horned bandits arriving, savages wearing leather helmets with horns, rushing the bridge. “The bandits are here,” one farmer gave warning. “We’re done for!”
“The hell you say!” Sheshkallum shouted and ran back to the narrow bridge. He took a position in the middle of the span, swinging his hoe at two of the birds diving on him. As the bandits neared, they hefted their spears.
Suddenly, Sheshkallum heard behind him the blare of a goat horn and a man’s voice shouting “Hek! Hek!” Faint at first, but growing louder and picking up tempo, he caught the sounds of hooves pummeling the towpath. “By the gods,” someone in the rear shouted, “there's a herd of goats on the rampage!”
Someone else yelled, “It’s the goatherd!”
Sheshkallum swung his hoe at the first bandit to reach the bridge and quickly turned to see what was happening. The goats were almost on him. Quickly, he stepped back off the bridge and dodged to one side. Immediately, goats thundered across. They came first upon the lead horned bandit and butted him into the water. Then, reaching the other side, they began running amuck among the other armed mountain men, bleating, butting and creating havoc.
Then, Dashan, the goatherd, appeared. “Men, let my goats through,” he shouted. “Let them handle the bandits. Protect yourselves. Kneel and raise your hoe or staff up into the air. It’ll keep you out of the clutches of the birds.”
The farmers were doing this when the sky when a brilliant flash of lightning lit the sky. A booming crack of thunder followed that shook the Earth. The struggle at the canal ceased for a moment as everybody, man and animal alike, looked up to see an ominous cloudmass roiling overhead. Ninurta, the young Sumerian storm god, stood on the leading edge, looking down.
As they watched, he pulled out another lightning bolt and hurled it down to the Earth. It struck one of the goats, exploding him and filling the air with reverberations of thunder. Cries of joy from the bandits mixed with cries of despair from the farmers.
Dashan knelt amid the overwhelming tumult, bowed his head and concentrated. “Father Ishkur, where are you? Come quickly. I need you, Father Ishkur.”
The old storm god of the mountainlands answered from a small, unnoticed cloud overhead, “Here I am, my son. Up here. Directly overhead.”
Dashan looked up as another of Ninurta’s lightning bolts sizzled through the air on its way down to the Earth. Another goat was struck to the accompaniment of thunder.
“Father Ishkur, you have to stop Ninurta,” Dashan pleaded with the old god. “He’s killing my goats one by one. After the goats, it will be our turn. We won’t stand a chance.”
“My son,” Ishkur demurred, “I would if I could, but I’m no match for a virile god like Ninurta. He’s young and powerful. Were I to offend him, he would strike me down as surely as he is clobbering your goats.”
“Father, is there nothing you can do? Are we doomed?”
The old god looked up and narrowed his eyes at the dark underside of the cloudmass. “Perhaps not. Let me try something. Hand me your hoe, my son. I’ll go up under Ninurta’s cloud and try to poke a hole in the bottom of it.”
Dashan held up his hoe and the cloud Ishkur was on was lowered down between bolts of lightning so the old god could reach out and take it from his hand. Then Dashan watched the cloud rise. Another searing bolt of lightning streaked down from the great cloudmass, narrowly missing the little cloud. Thunder shook the Earth again. Dashan watched as Ishkur’s little cloud neared the dark underside of Ninurta’s cloudmass.
He saw the old god stand up and, with both hands, hold the hoe so that the end of the handle pointed upwards. With obvious force, Ishkur jabbed it into the great cloud overhead. It was as if a bladder had burst! Water gushed out of the hole, spraying into the air, filling it with a myriad of water drops so it pelted the Earth as rain.
Above all, Dashan heard Ninurta give one thunderous shout, “What the hell!”
The rain came down in sheets and pelted the Earth. It quickly grounded the zu-birds and they hid from the storm. On the far side of the bridge, the goats huddled together for protection. Farther away, the bandits covered themselves, disappearing from view. Even Ishkur’s little cloud, drowned by the outpouring, became waterlogged and sank, landing in the canal. The rain stopped everything. Nothing moved.
>>
Then a breeze blew from the north and became a wind that turned into a gale. It blew away Ninurta’s great sinking cloud mass so that the bright sun shone again. A speck appeared high overhead and rapidly increased in size. As it came down to the Earth, Dashan saw it was Enlil, the mighty Skylord of the Earth, riding his Anzu bird. He spiraled down over the bridge and, holding the reins in one hand, surveyed the scene below.
“What’s been going on down there?” the Skylord asked.
Dashan answered the supreme lord of the Earth. “We were being attacked by horned bandits and zu-birds from the mountainlands when Ninurta arrived.”
“Ninurta is my son,” Enlil proclaimed. “I saw his cloud had been punctured. Was it you, mortal, who dared to puncture his cloud?”
At this point, Ishkur spoke from the canal. “Mighty Skylord, it was I who punctured your son’s cloud.”
The Skylord looked down. “You!” he exclaimed. “Ishkur, you belong up in the mountainlands. By Nergal, what are you doing down here?”
“My lord,” Ishkur said, “my cloud was under Ninurta’s cloud when it was punctured. The outpouring of water was so great that my cloud became waterlogged and fell into the canal, as you can see. I’m here till my cloud is dry again.”
The Skylord eyes fastened hard on Ishkur. “Tell me, what were you doing under Ninurta’s cloud?”
“Dashan prayed to me. He requested I stop Ninurta and the zu-birds.”
“Who’s Dashan?”
“The mortal who just spoke to you. That goatherd standing over there.”
“By Nin, Ishkur, how did a mortal get involved in this thing? Are you telling me you listened to the entreaties of a mere goatherd?”
“My lord, the goatherd is my supplicant. He often sings my praises. And when he’s in the mountainlands, he always lets me savor the sweet smell of the meat he cooks.”
“What! Have you no more than this one worshipper? And him a goatherd?” Stress rendered the Skylord’s voice high pitched.
Ishkur pulled himself half out of the water and nodded. “My lord, everybody else left the mountainlands long ago – except the bandits, and I haven’t found them to be religious.”
“You said this goatherd told you about Ninurta and the zu-birds?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Didn’t you realize that Ninurta was my son and that the birds were my personal watchers?”
“I – I guess I didn’t think things through, my lord.”
“Ishkur!”
“Yes, my lord.”
“This sort of thing must stop—now! These foothills, this area human mortals call the Frontier, is becoming the graveyard of the gods. First, it was Asag and then Humban, demonized as Humbaba by Inanna’s brother and slain by Enkidu. We must stop letting ourselves get involved with the affairs of the human mortals.”
“A thousand apologies, my lord, but your zu-birds were already involved, helping the horned bandits long before I arrived. When I came, they were attacking the farmers.”
“This is a different situation, Ishkur. I am the Skylord, supreme lord of the Earth. In the absence of a decision of the Council of the Gods, it is I who make decisions.”
“My lord, may I ask what decision you made in this event?”
“To empty the Frontier, Ishkur, to cleanse it of recalcitrant human mortals.”
Ishkur looked around him. “Do you regard these farmers as more recalcitrant than the horned bandits?”
“The farmers are the problem, not the bandits. Bandits know only loot and rape. As you said, they are not religious. But farmers who come into contact with foreign gods, tend to offer them praises and gifts. This excites the jealous natures of the gods of Sumer. We must keep our black headed people away from foreign gods else I fear we will have another battle of the gods. Such a battle could threaten the very existence of the Earth itself.”
“My lord, your decision seems most unfair to the farmers.”
“It is my decision, Ishkur, therefore it is eminently fair. I will not have the black-headed people chasing after foreign gods.”
“What about Dashan, the goatherd. He is a trader who regularly travels into foreign lands to earn his livelihood.”
“Ah, I suspected as much. I tell you, Ishkur, traders are the worst of the lot. They should be done away with.”
“A thousand pardons, my lord, but I think you are wrong.”
Enlil’s eyes widened and his face turned red. He pulled on the reins of the Anzu bird so that it reared high in the sky. From his commanding height, he shouted down to Ishkur, “You dare disagree with the supreme Skylord of the Earth?”
Dashan seized the moment to launch his goats against the remnant of the bandits. “Hek! Hek!” he shouted and the goats started in their direction. Zu-birds, flushed by the ambling goats, flurried into sudden flight beneath the talons of the Anzu bird. The Bird of Heaven, surprised by the sudden panic of the smaller birds, roared and flapped its wings furiously, unseating the mighty Skylord. Enlil fell from the bird and tumbled down into the canal, splashing into the water, not far from Ishkur.
The old mountain god went to help. “My lord -”
The Skylord swam to the bank. Water had straightened his hair and was rivuleting down his face. He growled, “Stay away from me, Ishkur.” He waded out of the canal and climbed up on the bank. “By the gods,” he sputtered, “what a mess. I never realized things had gotten so bad.”
Ishkur followed him. “My lord, if there is anything I can do - ”
“No, dammit! You’ve done more than enough already.” He look up into the sky and called down the Anzu bird. “Come down, Imdigud. Come and get me.”
While Dashan watched, the great Bird of Heaven circled down and landed beside the canal. The magnificent creature crouched down so Enlil could mount. When the Skylord was seated, the bird took several hops and then launched itself into the air. Airborne, it circled the zu-birds while the Skylord shouted at them. When they flew off, Dashan saw that the zu-birds also left, following close behind.
Dashan looked to Ishkur. “The Skylord has flown away with all his birds. What happened?”
The old mountain god grinned. “When Enlil lost his seating, I think he lost his dignity. Besides, his son is somewhere out there on a cloud that’s badly deflated. I don’t think things have gone well for the Skylord today. I imagine he’s winging his way back to Nippur.”
“But he left without saying a word.”
Ishkur nodded. “That’s his way, my son. Moody. I can tell you, the Skylord definitely didn’t like the turn of events out here. But you can be sure we’ll be hearing from him again. Maybe something like an earthquake … or another flood.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
Ishkur shrugged. “Not much on this Earth is fair. But at least you and your fellow mortals are safe for the moment. Now that the zu-birds have gone, the bandits have been run off by your goats.”
“Ah, the farmers can return home with their families and rest.”
Ishkur shook his head. “This is not the time for rest, my son. This is the time for rebuilding.”
“Rebuilding?” Dashan asked. “It’s only a question of time before the bandits attack again. If the farmers don’t rest now, when will they ever get the chance?”
“Patience, my son, their day will come. But, for now, they need to get ready for the next bandit attack so they can better defend themselves.
“The gods, my son, like Enlil, may not realize it yet, but even with the help of the bandits, they’re losing control of the Earth. The day’s coming when the Earth will belong to you and your fellow human mortals. You’ll need to have gotten a good grip on it by then. So, go to it.”
The End
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