A Guide to Mythology

HOW THOR CONQUERED THE STONE GIANT HRUNGNER

Thor had once gone eastward to crush trolls, but Odin rode on his horse Sleipner to Jotunheim, the land of giants, and came to a giant by name Hrungner. Then he asked Hrungner what man that was, who with a helmet of gold rode through the air and over the sea, and added that it was an extraordinarily good horse he had. Odin replied that he would wager his head that so good a horse could not be found in Jotunheim. Hrungner said that it was indeed a very excellent horse, but he had one called Goldfax that could take much longer paces, and he immediately sprang upon his horse and galloped away after Odin. Odin constantly kept ahead, but Hrungner’s giant nature had become so excited that before he was himself aware of it he had come within the gates of Asgard. When he came to the door of the hall the gods invited him in to drink. They set before him the bowls out of which Thor was accustomed to drink, and he emptied them each in one draught, and so he became drunk and began to boast in a most conceited fashion. He was going to take Valhal, he said, and carry it off to Jotunheim; he would demolish Asgard and kill the gods, except Freyja and Lif, whom he would take home with him; and while Freyja was pouring the celestial beverage into bowls for him he remarked that he was going to drink up all the ale of the gods. At last the gods grew very tired of his arrogance. They, therefore, called Thor, who came at once. He was very much enraged and, swinging his hammer about, he fiercely asked who was to blame that dogwise giants should be permitted to drink there, or who had given safety to Hrungner in Valhal, and why Freyja should pour ale for him as she did at the feasts of the gods. Hrungner, looking at Thor with anything but a friendly eye, answered that Odin had invited him and that he was under his protection. Thor said that Hrungner should come to rue that invitation before he came out; but the giant answered that it would be but little honor to Thor to kill him, unarmed, as he was; it would be a better proof of his valor if he dared contend with him at the boundaries of his territory. “It was foolish, indeed, of me to leave my weapons at home. Had I my shield and my flint stone with me, we would now try a duel. But I declare you to be a coward if you kill me unarmed.” Thor would not excuse himself from such a challenge the like of which no one had ever offered him before. Hrungner now went his way and hastened home. This journey of Hrungner was much talked of by the giants, and especially did his challenge of Thor awaken their interest, and it was of great importance to them which of the two should come out from the combat victorious. For if Hrungner, who was the most powerful among the giants, should be conquered, they might look for nothing but evil from Thor. They, therefore, made a man of clay, nine miles high and three miles broad between the shoulders. They could not find a heart corresponding to his size and therefore took one out of a mare; but this fluttered and trembled when Thor came. Hrungner had a heart of hard stone, sharp and three-cornered; his head was also of stone, and likewise his shield, which was broad and thick, and this shield he held before him when he stood waiting for Thor. His weapon was a flint stone, which he swung over his shoulders, so that it was no trifle to join in combat with him. By his side stood the clay giant, who was so extremely terrified that the sweat poured from off him. Thor went to the duel together with Thjalfe, a servant, whom he had got from a peasant by the sea. Thjalfe ran to the place where Hrungner was standing, and said to him: “You stand unguarded, giant; you hold the shield before you, but Thor has seen you; he comes with violence from beneath the earth and attacks you.” Then Hrungner hastily put the shield beneath his feet and stood upon it, but he seized his flint stone with both hands. Presently he saw flashes of lightning and heard loud crashings, and then he saw Thor in his might rushing forward with impetuous speed, swinging his hammer and throwing it from the distance against Hrungner. The latter lifted the flint stone with both his hands and threw it with all his might against the hammer; the two met in the air and the flint stone broke into two pieces, one piece of which fell on the ground (and hence the flint mountains), while the other flew with such force against the head of Thor that he fell forward to the ground; but the hammer Mjolner hit Hrungner right in the head and crushed his skull into small pieces, he himself falling over Thor, so that his foot lay across Thor’s neck. Thor could only be released from the giant’s foot by his own son Magne (strength), and to this day the flint stone sticks fast in Thor’s forehead.

Longfellow calls Thor the brother of Zeus. Zeus is, however, only like Thor in his character of the thunderer. As the All-father of the Greeks he is like Odin.

Zeus, or Jupiter,[8] as he was called by the Romans, was regarded as the supreme ruler of the universe. Sometimes he was pictured as a god of war. Then he rode in his thunder car, hurling the thunderbolt or lashing his enemies with a scourge of lightning. He wore a breastplate or shield of storm-cloud like the skin of a gray goat fearful to behold and made by the God of Fire. His special messenger was the eagle.

In his peaceful guise, he sat throned in the high clear heavens. There he was the gatherer of clouds and snows, the dispenser of gentle rains and winds, the moderator of light and heat and the seasons. He was worshipped with various rites in different places, but everywhere the loftiest trees and the highest mountain peaks were sacred to him.

HOW ZEUS CAME TO BE KING OF GODS

The story told of Zeus is that he had not always been the supreme god. Before him reigned his father, Cronus, and before Cronus his grandfather, Uranus. Cronus deposed Uranus, and having heard that he was destined to be deposed by one of his own children, he indulged in the queer habit of swallowing them all. His wife, Rhea, however, when Zeus was born thought of the happy expedient of giving Cronus a stone to swallow, which he, unsuspecting, did. The little Zeus was hidden in the island of Crete, where he was tended by nymphs and brought up on goat’s milk. When he became a full-grown god, he made his father disgorge the brothers and sisters he had swallowed—namely, Vesta, Ceres, Juno, Pluto, and Neptune—and then went to war against his cruel father. This war is a battle of the powers of light against the powers of darkness. Cronus is helped by his brothers the Titans, and Zeus is helped by the Cyclopes, one-eyed giants, and the Hecatonchires, hundred-handed monsters who had been confined for ages in Tartarus. Zeus and his hosts held Mount Olympus. For ages victory wavered in the balance, until by the advice of Rhea, Zeus released the Cyclopes and the Hecatonchires. Instantly they hastened to the battle-field of Thessaly, the Cyclopes to support Zeus with their thunders and lightnings, the hundred-handed monsters with the shock of the earthquake. Provided with such artillery, shaking earth and sea, Zeus issued to the onslaught. With the gleam of the lightning the Titans were blinded, by the earthquake they were laid low, with the flames they were well-nigh consumed; overpowered and fettered by the hands of the Hecatonchires, they were consigned to the yawning cave of Tartarus. In the council of the gods following this great battle Zeus was chosen Sovereign of the World. He delegated to his brother Posidon or Neptune the kingdom of the sea and all the waters, to his brother Hades or Pluto the government of the underworld, dark, unseen, mysterious, where the spirits of the dead should dwell, and of Tartarus the prison of the subdued Titans. For himself Zeus retained heaven and earth. His dwelling and that of the gods was on the summit of an ideal mountain called Olympus. The gods all had their separate dwellings, but all when summoned assembled in the palace of Zeus, there to feast upon ambrosia and nectar. Their duties consisted in discussing the affairs of heaven and earth, while for amusement they had the melodies of Apollo’s lyre, and the songs of the muses. There was a gate of clouds to this heavenly city kept by goddesses, the Hours or Seasons, and through these gates the celestials passed when bent upon any errand to earth.

Hermes (Roman name, Mercury) was the personification of the wind and the messenger of Zeus, and, like the Valkyries, he had the office of conducting the souls of the dead to Hades. His summoning of the souls of the dead is beautifully described in this passage from the Odyssey, translated by the poet Bryant:

Among the loveliest of the sky deities are the goddesses of the dawn. Besides bringing light and joy to mankind, they are his kind helpers when he is in trouble, and the givers of all good things. We have already made the acquaintance of the Hindoo Dawn Goddess Ushas, and give here another Vedic hymn in her praise. The counterpart of Ushas in Greek mythology is Aurora, the Goddess of the Dawn, who is pictured flying before the car of Apollo. A more developed Dawn Goddess is Pallas Athēne (Roman name Minerva.) She is represented as having sprung fully armed from the head of her father Zeus, as the Dawn springs up in the morning sky. But she has a warlike, as well as a beneficent side when she wields the lightning and the thunderbolts. When Pallas Athēne decided to give her aid to any human being, she sometimes took the form of Mentes, or of a young shepherd, as she does in different scenes in the “Odyssey.” When she descends to earth she is described as fastening underneath her feet

When Pallas returned to heaven she

Another time Pallas appears to Odysseus or Ulysses in the shape

After a little talk with Odysseus

She advises Odysseus and says to him:

Thus this beneficent Dawn Goddess is always helping mankind in their troubles, and scattering abroad so much wisdom that she came to be called in Greek mythology the Goddess of Wisdom.

The Indian and the Japanese stories following show other fancies about gods of the sky and air. “The Lover’s Vision of the Happy Land” gives a picture of the home of departed spirits in the sky. “The Message-Bearers” is related to the idea that the wind is a messenger of the gods, but it is the wind in the form of the repeated sounds in echoes.

The Indians[9] were in the habit of frequenting rivers with high, wooded banks, or ravines with precipitous sides where reverberations could be heard for miles, until they would die away in the distance. There they would stand for hours shouting and listening to the echoing shouts as they leaped from shore to shore, or from hill to mountain, and from mountain to valley—on and on into silence; always firmly believing that the words were called from one to another of the faithful spirits until they reached the ears of their loved ones, and finally the Great Spirit himself.

“The Way of the Gods” describes a god of the infinite sky as the beginning of all things.

HYMN TO THE DAWN

(From the “Rig Veda”)

THE LOVER’S VISION OF THE HAPPY ISLAND

There was once a very beautiful girl, more beautiful than all the Indian maidens of her tribe, who died suddenly, on the eve of her marriage to a handsome young chief; and, although her lover was brave, his heart was not proof against his loss. He mourned as one without hope. After her burial he sat near the spot where her remains were deposited, without speaking, musing and dreaming of her he had lost. War and hunting had no charms for him. He pushed aside his bow and arrows, for his heart was dead within him. He had heard the old people say that there was a path that led to the Land of Souls, and he determined to follow it. With this resolution he left the remains of his beloved, and, after making some preparation for the journey, set out at an early hour of the morning.

At first he hardly knew which direction to take, for he was guided only by the tradition that he must go southward. For a while he could discover no change in the appearance of the country; forests, hills, valleys, and streams had the same familiar look that they wore around his native home. There was snow upon the ground, however, when he set out; and it was sometimes seen clinging in thick mats upon the trees and bushes, but at length it began to diminish, and finally, as he travelled swiftly along, totally disappeared, when the forest assumed a more cheerful appearance. The trees appeared to be putting forth their leaves, and suddenly, as if by enchantment, as he walked onward, he found himself surrounded by the budding flowers of spring; the air seemed warm upon his cheek, while overhead, instead of wintry clouds, the sky was clear, and his ears were saluted with songs of birds.

The lover’s heart beat quickly at these changes, for he knew he was in the right path, as appearances agreed with the traditions of his tribe. As he sped along, he discovered a footpath, which he followed, and was led through a dark grove, then up a long precipitous ridge, on the extreme summit of which he came to a lodge. In the doorway of this lodge stood an old man, whose hair was white as snow, and whose eyes, though deeply sunken, had a wonderful brilliancy. He had a long robe of skins thrown loosely around his shoulders, and a staff in his hand. The young lover accosted him and began to tell his story, when the old man interrupted him by saying: “I have expected you, and had just risen to bid you welcome. She whom you seek passed here a few days since. Enter my lodge, for therein she rested, being fatigued, and I will answer all your inquiries, and give you direction for your journey from this point.”

Having entered and rested within the lodge, according to the old man’s invitation, the young lover, impatient of delay, soon issued forth from the lodge-door, accompanied by the venerable chief. “You see yonder gulf,” said the chief, “and the wide-stretching blue plains beyond. It is the Land of Souls. You stand upon its borders, and my lodge is its gate of entrance; but you cannot take your body along with you; leave it here with your bow and arrows, your bundle and your dog; you will find it safe on your return.”

So saying, he turned and reëntered his lodge, and the freed traveller bounded forward as if his feet were winged. He found, as he thus sped forward, that all things retained their natural colors and shapes, except that they seemed more beautiful—the colors being richer and shapes more comely; and he would have thought that everything was the same as heretofore, had he not seen that the animals bounded across his path with the utmost freedom and confidence, and birds of beautiful plumage inhabited the groves, and sported in the waters in fearless and undisturbed enjoyment. As he passed on, however, he noticed that his passage was not impeded by trees or other objects; he appeared to walk directly through them. They were, in fact, but the souls of trees, and he then became sensible that he was in the Land of Shadows.

When he had travelled some distance through the country, which continually became more and more attractive, he came to the banks of a broad lake, in the center of which was a beautiful island; and tied upon the shore of this lake he found a canoe of white, shining stone, within which were white paddles that seemed to be of the same shining material.

He immediately entered the canoe and took the paddles in his hands, when, to his joy and surprise, on turning around, he discovered the object of his search, the young maiden, in another canoe exactly the counterpart of his; who, having imitated his motions in gathering up the paddles and making preparations for embarking, followed him as he pushed off from shore.

The waves of the lake soon began to rise, and, at a distance, looked ready to submerge them in their watery embrace; but yet, on approaching their white edges, they seemed to melt away. Still, as these enormous waves followed each other in quick succession, it kept them in continual fear; for they felt no certainty but that some one of them might break upon their canoes and bring them to destruction; while, added to this perpetual fear, the water of the lake was so clear that it disclosed to their affrighted gaze large heaps of bones of human beings who had perished before. And, as they moved on, they saw many persons struggling and sinking in the waves. Old men and women, and young men and maidens, were there; and but few were able to pass over. The children alone were seen to glide on without fear. However, notwithstanding their terror, the young man and maiden moved unharmed along, for their deeds in life had been free from evil, and the Master of Life had decreed their safety; and, at length, they leaped out upon the shore of the Happy Island, the place of their destination, and wandered together over the blissful fields, where everything was formed to delight the eye and please the ear. The air itself was like food, and nourished and strengthened them. There were no tempests. No one shivered for the want of warm clothes. No one suffered from hunger. No one mourned for the dead. They saw no graves. They heard of no wars. There was no hunting of animals. Gladly the young lover would have remained forever with his beloved in this beautiful land, but this was not permitted; for, although he did not see the Master of Life, he heard his voice in a soft breeze which commanded his return: “Go back,” said the voice, “to the land from whence you came. Your time has not yet come; your work is not finished, and the duties for which I made you are not completed. Return to your people and accomplish all the duties of a brave man. You will be the ruler of your tribe for many years. My messenger at the gate shall instruct you in your future work, when he surrenders your body. Listen to him, and you shall afterwards rejoin the spirit which you must now leave behind. She is accepted, and will dwell here forever, as young and as happy as when I called her from the Land of Snows.” And with this the lover’s vision closed.

THE MESSAGE-BEARERS

When the Great Spirit brought the Redmen from the Happy Hunting Grounds and left them upon the earth, they were filled with fear lest they could never make him hear their wants, and could not reach his ears when they desired to tell him of their joys and sorrows. The sachems went before him and said: “O our Father, how will thy children tell thee of the deeds they have performed that will please thine ear? How will they ask thee to their homes to help them drive away the bad spirits; and how will they invite thee to their feasts and dances? O our Father, thou canst not at all times be awake and watching thy children, and they will not know when thou art sleeping. Thy children do not know the trail to the Happy Hunting Grounds by which to send their wise men and sachems to talk with thee, for thou hast covered it with thy hands and thy children cannot discover it. How will the words of thy children reach thee, O our Father, the Manito; how will what they say come to thine ears?”

Then the Great Spirit created for each one of the Redmen a second self, to whom he gave a home in the air. He provided these beings with wings and swift feet, so they could move very rapidly. To them he imparted the secrets of the entrance to his home, and made them guides to his children whom he had called on the long journey, so that they should not lose the paths leading to their future home. Finally, the Great Spirit told these creatures of the air that they should be message-bearers for his children, and convey their words exactly as spoken from one point to another until they reached the ears of his sachems in the big wigwam by the side of the council-fire that never lost its light. They must be ready at all times to answer the calls of the Redmen, so that none of their words might be lost. Messages to the loved ones who had left the earth and gone to the Happy Hunting Grounds must be transmitted with the same watchful care as were those intended for his ears alone. If any of his children spoke idle and untruthful words, they, too, must be repeated, that their father might know whether they were worthy to be admitted to the grand council-fire.

When he had finished his instructions, the Great Spirit told the sachems that he would return to his home, and that they could go with his children to the bank of a beautiful river near which they dwelt, and there talk to him.

Slowly and with a loud voice the chief sachem began to speak. From the opposite bank of the river the waiting message-bearer caught up the sachem’s words as they were spoken, and with a strong voice shouted them to another dweller of the air, who crouched in the tree-tops far down the river, ready and alert to do the Great Spirit’s bidding. On and on, rolling along the ravines and valleys, leaping from hill-top to mountainside and from mountainside to lake, striding over the forests at a bound—fainter and yet fainter, until lost in the blue distance of the plain—the message of thankfulness and love was borne from the lips of the grateful sachem until it reached the ears of the ever-listening and loving father, and was told to the chiefs who sat in the light of the council-fire that never grows dim.

THE WAY OF THE GODS

(Japanese)

Listen, my children, to the true story of the Beginning of the World.

When there was neither Heaven nor Earth, nor Sun nor Moon, nor anything that is, there existed in Infinite Space the Invisible Lord of the Middle Heaven. With him were two other Gods.

By their miraculous power, a Thing whose shape cannot be described came into existence in the midst of Space, in appearance like a Floating Cloud. Forth from it sprang, as it were, a Flowering Rushsprout, rising from the water—pure, translucent, and bright—which grew and grew and widened and widened infinitely, till it spread over all things and became the Canopy of Heaven. Then downward from the Floating Cloud grew the Under-region—the Realm of Night—which is the Root-region of the World and the abode of Departed Spirits.

And the center of the Floating Cloud became the Earth, which was still liquid and formless and without life.

After this were born in Heaven seven generations of Gods, and the last and most perfect of these were Izanagi and Izanami. Now, Izanagi and Izanami were the Parents of the World and all that is in it. And it happened in this wise: the Gods of the High Plain of Heaven said to Izanagi and Izanami:

“Descend and make of this drifting mud and ocean a firm and beautiful Land, and fill it with living things.” And the Gods placed in their hands a mystic jewelled Spear.

Now, in these days the heavens were near to the earth, and the space between was spanned by a Heavenly Floating Bridge. So they set forth bravely on their journey, and, looking down into the space beneath them, they saw in the depths the green plain of the Sea. They held counsel together and said, “Is there not a country beneath?”

And Izanagi pushed the jewelled Spear down from the Floating Bridge and stirred the green sea round and round, and some say that is why the earth turns round and round to this day. Then the brine went curdle-curdle, and they drew up the Spear, and the brine that fell from the end of the Spear dropped down and became an island. This island was called Onogoro, and is one of the Everlasting Islands of the Land of Sunrise, of the Land of Fertile Reed-plains, which is Japan.

Now, the Gods stepped down on to the Earth, and it was strange and desolate, and they shivered, and felt lonely and afraid.

Suddenly sounded a whirring of wings; two tiny Sekirei—wagtails—swept by and fluttered to the ground. It was early springtime; the living air thrilled warm and sweet. With little pecks and cheeps, full of busy pride, the pair sought twigs and grasses and wove them deftly into a downy nest. Quivering with rapture, the lover-bird hovered round his mate, and sang of love and joy and happy days to come.

While the Great Gods watched, a warmth crept round the heart of Izanagi, and in Izanami’s eyes was a mist of tears. She whispered softly, “Let us, too, make a house to dwell in!” Then Izanagi plunged his spear into the ground, and round them rose a great and glorious Palace, and the Spear was the Heart-Pillar thereof. And they were hidden from the sight of Heaven and Earth.

Then, moving round this Pillar, they met and gazed on one another with charmed eyes. The Mother of Mankind cried joyfully: “Behold! I have met with a lovely Youth!” And Izanagi cried back: “Behold! I have met with a lovely Maiden!”

So the Sekirei first taught the Gods the ways of Love, and are honored and cherished in Japan to this day.

But Izanagi remembered how Izanami had been the first to speak, and in his displeasure said wrathfully: “I am a Man, and should by right have spoken first!”

When the first child born to them was ugly and deformed, they put him in a boat made of camphor-wood, and he sailed away to sea and became the God of the fisherfolk. His children are the hairy men who live in some of the islands of Japan to this day.

Then the Gods passed round the Pillar a second time, and Izanagi spoke first. So his anger was appeased, and they lived greatly content.

Together they made the eight islands of Japan, and placed them at the summit of the globe. But the land was hidden—becovered with mists—so Izanagi sent forth the God of the Winds. He, blowing lustily, rent the clouds, and the earth lay as a bride unveiled, shimmering with silver dew on her green pastures.

Next came the Food-Spirit to comfort mankind, the Sea Gods, the Mountain Gods, the Gods of the River-mouths, the Tree Gods, and the Earth Goddess. Last of all was born the fierce Fire God, Kagu-tsuchi. Now, this God was of such a hot and fiery temper that he burned his Great Mother, and she suffered change and departed to the Lower World.

Then Izanagi was wroth, and cried aloud: “Oh, that I should have given my Beloved in return for a single child!”

And his sorrow was so great that he crawled round her head and her feet, and from the tears that he shed sprang up the Goddess of Weeping. Then he took his ten-span sword and hewed Kagu-tsuchi in three pieces, and each piece sprang into life as the Spirit of Thunder, the Spirit of Mountains, and the Spirit of Rain.

Now, Izanagi loved his wife so greatly that he could find no rest or peace on earth; and, after wandering long in search of comfort and finding none, he determined to seek her, even in the realm of Departed Spirits. His way lay through a long and gloomy passage where few have trod, right through the center of the earth, till he came at length to the Gate of Everlasting Night, to the Kingdom of Yomi, the Ruler of the Under World. He knocked at the Gate and cried aloud:

“O my beloved Sister! come back to me!” And she answered him:

“O beloved Elder Brother! gladly would I come, but, alas! I have eaten of Yomi’s cooking and am bewitched. Let me return and speak to him, but do not thou follow me!”

So Izanagi waited anxiously without, till, growing impatient at her long delay, he broke a tooth off his comb, lighting it as a torch, and so dared to enter those terrible shades. Through dark and dreadful ways he wandered, and his heart quailed within him.

But Yomi was wroth with him for his daring, and smote Izanami so that when he found her she lay as one altered in death, with Eight Witches at her head and her feet. Then a great horror fell upon Izanagi; he turned and fled swiftly, and the Eight Ugly Women rose and pursued him. On he ran, through winding ways where icy blasts fly shrieking; and the Witches swept after him and would have caught him, but he seized the wreath from his head and flung it down, and it was changed into bunches of grapes. When the Witches saw these they stopped and greedily devoured them; then, gathering up their robes, rose and pursued again.

Izanagi felt the chill of their coming, and drew out a many-toothed comb from the right bunch of his hair and threw it behind him. Behold! as it touched the ground, there sprang up a hedge of young bamboo shoots across the path. The Witches swooped down, pulled up the young shoots, and ate them to the last one; then again gave chase.

Now, Izanami, too, was angered against him, for she had been put to shame; and she sent five hundred warriors from Yomi to pursue him. When the rush and the tramping drew nearer, Izanagi unsheathed his ten-span sword, and in his despair his breath failed as at the approach of Death. Then suddenly appeared before him the Gate of the Pass of Yomi; and hastily plucking some peaches which grew by the gate, he threw them, and scattered his pursuers, and himself passed through into the light. And he rolled a mighty stone across the mouth of the opening, so that none hereafter could move it.

The peaches that had saved him he named Their Augustness the Great Divine Fruit, and they are honored in some parts of Japan to this day.

Now, when he came back into the world again, Izanagi felt very weary, and searched for a clear stream to wash away the foulness of the Lower Regions which clung to him. When he had found one he bathed therein, and of this washing many evil gods were born; among them were the Gods of Crookedness, who love to plague mankind. Seeing this evil, he made the Gods of Straightening, to make crooked things straight.

Now, when he had rested and accomplished his purification, he created the greatest of his children in this wise:

Descending once more into the clear stream, he bathed his left eye, and forth sprang Amaterasu, the great Sun Goddess.

Sparkling with light, she rose from the waters as the Sun rises in the East, and her brightness was wonderful, and shone through Heaven and Earth; never was seen such radiant glory.

Izanagi rejoiced greatly, and said, “There is none like this Miraculous Child!”

Taking a necklace of jewels, he put it round her neck and said, “Rule Thou over the Plain of High Heaven!”

Thus Amaterasu became the source of all life and light; the glory of her shining has warmed and comforted all mankind, and she is worshipped by them unto this day.

Then he bathed his right eye, and there appeared her brother, the Moon God. Izanagi said: “Thy beauty and radiance are next to the Sun in splendor; rule thou over the Dominion of Night!”

When the two beautiful ones had departed, a third God came forth, whose name was Susa-wo. He was a god with a strange destiny, and could never be at peace, sweeping ceaselessly over hills and valleys with his long beard floating behind him. Izanagi gave him dominion over the sea.

But he was not content and neglected his kingdom, restlessly roaming over the earth, so that the green mountains withered and the rivers dried up. The murmuring of spirits he woke with his moaning was as the sound of innumerable bees.

So Izanagi in his wrath banished him to the Nether Regions, and, having accomplished his work, withdrew into an Island Cave, and abode there till the End.