this beautiful photograph of Mt. Kazbeg (c.5,000m) was found on www.georgien.bilder-album.com-
The Seven Sons of the Snow-storm - an Ingush Legend
Collected by V. Svetlov, and first published in St Petersburg in 1910.
Collected by V. Svetlov, and first published in St Petersburg in 1910.
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This legend is the Ingush version of the story of Prometheus, who improved the lot of his people by daring to steal from the gods, and was punished by being chained to Mt. Kazbeg (now in northern Georgia), to have his innards devoured daily by an eagle. The legend also exists in Georgian mythology, where the hero is known as Amirani. I found the legend in Mariel Tsaroieva’s amazing Anciennes Croyances des Ingouches et des Tchetchenes [“Ancient Beliefs of the Ingush and the Chechens”], published in Paris in 2005.
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Tq’a, the harsh, unforgiving god of the universe, created the Narts – a race of strong and powerful giants – and placed them at the foot of his mountain, in a narrow valley through which an impetuous river surged. Tq’a also created a second race of one-eyed Narts, cyclops, larger still than the first, and gave them the higher slopes of this mountain – the giant, snow-covered Bashlam-Kort [Mt. Kazbek, now in northern Georgia], where he sat upon his throne.
In the beginning, a few Narts lived together in a small village, but many years later their numerous descendants – the Galgai [i.e. the ancestors of the Ingush] – were to be found throughout the valley and in the surrounding black mountains. These Narts were fabled for their strength, courage, and pride, and their entire lives were spent raiding and pillaging neighbouring tribes. They were particularly ruthless towards another group of Narts who had resorted to cannibalism, and waged a permanent war against them.
The Galgai Narts feared none save Tq’a, and daily they sacrificed a captive cannibal Nart to him on a blazing pyre. When they had no more prisoners, they drew lots, and immolated those unfortunate ones whom Fate had chosen from among their own ranks. They led a miserable existence, living in damp caves where they slept on the bare rocks, eating grasses and roots gathered in their valley. Many Narts refused to eat this meagre fare, and became cannibals, but the Galgai Narts from Bashlam-Kort realized that if they followed their neighbours’ example and also became cannibals, their race would die out.
There were innumerable herds of sheep, but Tq’a jealously kept these for himself. The ruthless god also kept the sun hidden away, warming himself next to it during the harsh winter months, enveloping it in clouds to prevent the sun’s warming rays from reaching the earth.
When the great Tq’a – seated high up on his clouds, and warming himself by the sun as one would by a stove – became amused by something, his peals of laughter would shake the mountains themselves, and avalanches of stones and snow would come crashing down upon the poor Narts in the valleys, killing many of them. When he sighed – following some unsuccessful business matter, perhaps – his sigh would descend to earth as an icy wind; the Narts knew not where to find shelter from this terrible wind, for their caves were open to the elements. When Tq’a cried, his tears would fall to earth as a torrential downpour. But the worst was when Tq’a began to quarrel with his wife, old Khimekhninen, the mother of water and winds [also known as Dardza-Nana, the goddess of snow-storms]… Then, he would whip up powerful storms, and terrible gusts of wind would rush down to earth. Rivers would boil and burst their banks, flooding the valleys; snow would fall, and avalanches would come crashing down upon the heads of the poor Narts. The Narts began to grumble…
Their relationship with Tq’a the Great was terrible, and beyond repair. The Narts knew of the old legend, which had the god living in a house of reeds, sleeping on plump, soft clouds, warming himself by the rays of the sun, and eating delicious sheep. But their grumbling changed nothing: the Narts continued to freeze and to starve to death. If ever they decided to deprive Tq’a of his daily sacrifice, terrible consequences would ensue: Tq’a would send them avalanches, and winds which swept away the grasses and tore out the roots. Tq’a would even send them the plague, which enfeebled the Galgai Narts so much that their cannibal brethren had no difficulty in overpowering them, and would devour entire families.
The Galgai Narts would sometimes meet in the cave of the old Nart Sozruko, where he lived with his son Kuruko. Sozruko would talk to them of Tq’a’s life, and of how great and powerful he was. They all listened closely, in respectful silence, their heads bowed.
Only one Nart listened to Sozruko’s stories with a mocking smile and a look of insolence and disbelief on his face: his own son, young Kuruko, who could not forgive Tq’a for having created and then abandoned them, depriving them of everything. Kuruko decided to prove himself more clever than the great Tq’a, and improve the lives of his people once and for all.
But when the last cannibal Nart had been sacrificed to the god, Fate designated Kuruko to be Tq’a’s next victim. Kuruko left, saying that he was going to gather dry roots for his own pyre, but in reality he hid himself in an isolated spot known only to him, and stayed there until late at night.
“So,” he grumbled, blind with fury, “you have chosen me to be your next victim! You want these imbeciles, these cowards who tremble with fear when faced with your power, to burn me to please you! I, who alone among them have dared to express my indignation at your cruel treatment of my people! And what do you mean by wishing my death? One thing only: You are afraid of me! You are scared! That is why you want me dead! But beware! I do not fear you, and I will fight you!” And having uttered these words, Kuruko decided to climb the Bashlam-Kort and steal some of the great Tq’a’s sheep and reeds for his people.
Kuruko reached the eternal snows where the giant Narts with one eye lived, cyclops whom Tq’a had mistakenly made too powerful, and of whom he was a little fearful. Kuruko asked these Narts to show him the path to the god’s home, but they did not know where he lived, and sent Kuruko higher up the mountain towards the glacier where lived Tq’a’s seven sons, snow-storms. Tq’a did not get along well with his sons, and Kuruko had no difficulty in persuading them to help him steal some of their father’s sheep and reeds. Tq’a’s sons agreed to help Kuruko, upon the condition that the Nart would give them young Nart girls in marriage.
Having overcome many difficulties on the way, they reached the kingdom of the terrible god. A wondrous sight appeared before Kuruko’s eyes: Upon the summit, which was clear of ice and snow, there was a throne wrapped in clouds. Above, herds of small white and grey sheep were peacefully grazing; so numerous were these that Kuruko could not count them. All around the throne grew entire forests of magnificent reeds. With the help of Tq’a’s seven sons, and with much difficulty, Kuruko was able to throw some sheep and reeds down to his people in the valley.
But suddenly, something terrible happened: Old Tq’a woke up. The clouds around his throne slowly dissipated, and the great god appeared. His face was so horrible that Kuruko prostrated himself and stopped breathing. He thought he was dead.
“I have been robbed!” cried Tq’a, and everything around him shook with fear. “Now the reeds will start to grow, and the sheep will multiply on earth! The Narts will become as strong as me, will become my equals, and will stop making sacrifices to me! They will forsake me! The impertinent thieves will be punished, horribly, incredibly! Listen to the great Tq’a’s decree!”
He cried in this manner for a long time, and his sons became ever weaker and ever smaller, and Kuruko trembled and could not stop shaking with fear. At last, Tq’a shouted “Come here, Khimekhninen, my perfidious wife who gave me seven traitors for sons!” And as soon as he had uttered these words, something surged through the air, and Tq’a conjured up such a terrible storm that Kuruko thought that the world was coming to an end. The mother of snowstorms [Khimekhninen] bowed down, trembling, before the terrible ruler of the mountain.
“From now on,” Tq’a told her, “the impertinent Nart who dared steal my sheep and my reeds will be held in chains in a cave of the kingdom of the one-eyed Narts. He will be chained to the rocks as long as his people have sheep and reeds, and will be tormented in this cave for ever after. Every day, a mountain eagle will come to visit him and tear at his heart with its beak. You, you will keep the snows around him ablaze with an eternal fire. You will also have bread and a leg of mutton which will constantly renew themselves; after every meal, the bread and the mutton will still be there. You will draw a great circle around the cave which no mortal will be able to cross. Your breath will cast anyone brave enough to try to do so down into the abyss, and you will bury him in an avalanche of snow, mother of snow-storms! Here is your punishment, for you who gave me seven traitors for sons!”
The mother of snow-storms breathed, and a powerful wind carried Kuruko into the cave.
Tq’a then spoke to his sons, and prophesized that “You, sons, I will punish you severely. The impertinent Nart who stole my belongings was thinking of the earth, wanting to improve the lot of his people; so he will be chained to the earth forever, to the solid rock. The sky, where you were born, bores you; I will chain you to the sky forever! You will be ornaments in the dark sky, all seven of you, inseparably, so that you will not become bored. You will shine as stars, and will look down upon this miserable earth from unreachable heights! And people will call you Dardza-Kuangij [“Sons of the Snow-storm”].
And Tq’a commanded the goddess of snow-storms, old Khimekhninen, to prepare a great storm. His seven sons rose up into the air, and as they rose further and further away from the earth, they became smaller and smaller, and seemed to already be bright stars.
Many centuries passed from the time when the Nart Kuruko had stolen reeds and sheep from Tq’a and had been chained to the towering rocks. Winter followed Summer and Autumn followed Spring a great number of times. Many small sheep and reeds multiplied on earth. People began to lead easier lives, in freedom, and no longer went hungry. And everyone remembers hardy Kuruko with deep gratitude, and the story of his great deed and of his death is passed on from generation to generation.
But Kuruko is still chained to the dark rocks of Bashlam-Kort, and the mountain eagle still comes to him daily and torments his generous and courageous heart. Old Khimekhninen guards him, and eats the eternal bread and leg of mutton before his tired eyes. And he, who stole the sheep, has never tasted this good food. The old woman is angry with him because of the punishment she must endure, and because she has lost her sons; she feeds him with dried roots and makes him drink melted snow.
In the beginning, a few Narts lived together in a small village, but many years later their numerous descendants – the Galgai [i.e. the ancestors of the Ingush] – were to be found throughout the valley and in the surrounding black mountains. These Narts were fabled for their strength, courage, and pride, and their entire lives were spent raiding and pillaging neighbouring tribes. They were particularly ruthless towards another group of Narts who had resorted to cannibalism, and waged a permanent war against them.
The Galgai Narts feared none save Tq’a, and daily they sacrificed a captive cannibal Nart to him on a blazing pyre. When they had no more prisoners, they drew lots, and immolated those unfortunate ones whom Fate had chosen from among their own ranks. They led a miserable existence, living in damp caves where they slept on the bare rocks, eating grasses and roots gathered in their valley. Many Narts refused to eat this meagre fare, and became cannibals, but the Galgai Narts from Bashlam-Kort realized that if they followed their neighbours’ example and also became cannibals, their race would die out.
There were innumerable herds of sheep, but Tq’a jealously kept these for himself. The ruthless god also kept the sun hidden away, warming himself next to it during the harsh winter months, enveloping it in clouds to prevent the sun’s warming rays from reaching the earth.
When the great Tq’a – seated high up on his clouds, and warming himself by the sun as one would by a stove – became amused by something, his peals of laughter would shake the mountains themselves, and avalanches of stones and snow would come crashing down upon the poor Narts in the valleys, killing many of them. When he sighed – following some unsuccessful business matter, perhaps – his sigh would descend to earth as an icy wind; the Narts knew not where to find shelter from this terrible wind, for their caves were open to the elements. When Tq’a cried, his tears would fall to earth as a torrential downpour. But the worst was when Tq’a began to quarrel with his wife, old Khimekhninen, the mother of water and winds [also known as Dardza-Nana, the goddess of snow-storms]… Then, he would whip up powerful storms, and terrible gusts of wind would rush down to earth. Rivers would boil and burst their banks, flooding the valleys; snow would fall, and avalanches would come crashing down upon the heads of the poor Narts. The Narts began to grumble…
Their relationship with Tq’a the Great was terrible, and beyond repair. The Narts knew of the old legend, which had the god living in a house of reeds, sleeping on plump, soft clouds, warming himself by the rays of the sun, and eating delicious sheep. But their grumbling changed nothing: the Narts continued to freeze and to starve to death. If ever they decided to deprive Tq’a of his daily sacrifice, terrible consequences would ensue: Tq’a would send them avalanches, and winds which swept away the grasses and tore out the roots. Tq’a would even send them the plague, which enfeebled the Galgai Narts so much that their cannibal brethren had no difficulty in overpowering them, and would devour entire families.
The Galgai Narts would sometimes meet in the cave of the old Nart Sozruko, where he lived with his son Kuruko. Sozruko would talk to them of Tq’a’s life, and of how great and powerful he was. They all listened closely, in respectful silence, their heads bowed.
Only one Nart listened to Sozruko’s stories with a mocking smile and a look of insolence and disbelief on his face: his own son, young Kuruko, who could not forgive Tq’a for having created and then abandoned them, depriving them of everything. Kuruko decided to prove himself more clever than the great Tq’a, and improve the lives of his people once and for all.
But when the last cannibal Nart had been sacrificed to the god, Fate designated Kuruko to be Tq’a’s next victim. Kuruko left, saying that he was going to gather dry roots for his own pyre, but in reality he hid himself in an isolated spot known only to him, and stayed there until late at night.
“So,” he grumbled, blind with fury, “you have chosen me to be your next victim! You want these imbeciles, these cowards who tremble with fear when faced with your power, to burn me to please you! I, who alone among them have dared to express my indignation at your cruel treatment of my people! And what do you mean by wishing my death? One thing only: You are afraid of me! You are scared! That is why you want me dead! But beware! I do not fear you, and I will fight you!” And having uttered these words, Kuruko decided to climb the Bashlam-Kort and steal some of the great Tq’a’s sheep and reeds for his people.
Kuruko reached the eternal snows where the giant Narts with one eye lived, cyclops whom Tq’a had mistakenly made too powerful, and of whom he was a little fearful. Kuruko asked these Narts to show him the path to the god’s home, but they did not know where he lived, and sent Kuruko higher up the mountain towards the glacier where lived Tq’a’s seven sons, snow-storms. Tq’a did not get along well with his sons, and Kuruko had no difficulty in persuading them to help him steal some of their father’s sheep and reeds. Tq’a’s sons agreed to help Kuruko, upon the condition that the Nart would give them young Nart girls in marriage.
Having overcome many difficulties on the way, they reached the kingdom of the terrible god. A wondrous sight appeared before Kuruko’s eyes: Upon the summit, which was clear of ice and snow, there was a throne wrapped in clouds. Above, herds of small white and grey sheep were peacefully grazing; so numerous were these that Kuruko could not count them. All around the throne grew entire forests of magnificent reeds. With the help of Tq’a’s seven sons, and with much difficulty, Kuruko was able to throw some sheep and reeds down to his people in the valley.
But suddenly, something terrible happened: Old Tq’a woke up. The clouds around his throne slowly dissipated, and the great god appeared. His face was so horrible that Kuruko prostrated himself and stopped breathing. He thought he was dead.
“I have been robbed!” cried Tq’a, and everything around him shook with fear. “Now the reeds will start to grow, and the sheep will multiply on earth! The Narts will become as strong as me, will become my equals, and will stop making sacrifices to me! They will forsake me! The impertinent thieves will be punished, horribly, incredibly! Listen to the great Tq’a’s decree!”
He cried in this manner for a long time, and his sons became ever weaker and ever smaller, and Kuruko trembled and could not stop shaking with fear. At last, Tq’a shouted “Come here, Khimekhninen, my perfidious wife who gave me seven traitors for sons!” And as soon as he had uttered these words, something surged through the air, and Tq’a conjured up such a terrible storm that Kuruko thought that the world was coming to an end. The mother of snowstorms [Khimekhninen] bowed down, trembling, before the terrible ruler of the mountain.
“From now on,” Tq’a told her, “the impertinent Nart who dared steal my sheep and my reeds will be held in chains in a cave of the kingdom of the one-eyed Narts. He will be chained to the rocks as long as his people have sheep and reeds, and will be tormented in this cave for ever after. Every day, a mountain eagle will come to visit him and tear at his heart with its beak. You, you will keep the snows around him ablaze with an eternal fire. You will also have bread and a leg of mutton which will constantly renew themselves; after every meal, the bread and the mutton will still be there. You will draw a great circle around the cave which no mortal will be able to cross. Your breath will cast anyone brave enough to try to do so down into the abyss, and you will bury him in an avalanche of snow, mother of snow-storms! Here is your punishment, for you who gave me seven traitors for sons!”
The mother of snow-storms breathed, and a powerful wind carried Kuruko into the cave.
Tq’a then spoke to his sons, and prophesized that “You, sons, I will punish you severely. The impertinent Nart who stole my belongings was thinking of the earth, wanting to improve the lot of his people; so he will be chained to the earth forever, to the solid rock. The sky, where you were born, bores you; I will chain you to the sky forever! You will be ornaments in the dark sky, all seven of you, inseparably, so that you will not become bored. You will shine as stars, and will look down upon this miserable earth from unreachable heights! And people will call you Dardza-Kuangij [“Sons of the Snow-storm”].
And Tq’a commanded the goddess of snow-storms, old Khimekhninen, to prepare a great storm. His seven sons rose up into the air, and as they rose further and further away from the earth, they became smaller and smaller, and seemed to already be bright stars.
Many centuries passed from the time when the Nart Kuruko had stolen reeds and sheep from Tq’a and had been chained to the towering rocks. Winter followed Summer and Autumn followed Spring a great number of times. Many small sheep and reeds multiplied on earth. People began to lead easier lives, in freedom, and no longer went hungry. And everyone remembers hardy Kuruko with deep gratitude, and the story of his great deed and of his death is passed on from generation to generation.
But Kuruko is still chained to the dark rocks of Bashlam-Kort, and the mountain eagle still comes to him daily and torments his generous and courageous heart. Old Khimekhninen guards him, and eats the eternal bread and leg of mutton before his tired eyes. And he, who stole the sheep, has never tasted this good food. The old woman is angry with him because of the punishment she must endure, and because she has lost her sons; she feeds him with dried roots and makes him drink melted snow.
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For more information on Nart sagas from the Caucasus, the wikipedia article obviously provides a good introduction to the subject, and has links to some interesting documents!
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