The Arrow
It happened one night that the young warrior Warhu walked the forest — the hunting ground of his tribe from generations beyond memory. The full moon rose close over the great forest. On this night of nights especially Warhu walked thankful for its clear light to his feet. Before he returned to his village Warhu would prove himself a hunter and a warrior. Three nights he had hunted his prey. Three nights he had followed only cold tracks. Tonight the forest was sharp, clear, and alive. Warhu stalked silently watching and listening. The stag would be close now. Warhu was sure. He heard the cautious step of hooves, and he saw a white hind slide into the trees across a small glen. The young hunter crossed the glen silently to head off his prey. A glint of the moonlight at his side stopped him. In the center of the glen a silver arrow stood, head in the ground, shaft stalk-straight up to the clear sky. Held utterly still, Warhu beheld the arrow in the moonlight. It was unlike any arrow he had ever seen his tribesmen use, whether for the hunt or in battle. It stood nearly as tall as himself and seemed to glow. Warhu watched the arrow, transfixed for a long time before, as if waking from a dream, he stretched out his hand to grasp the shaft of the strange arrow. It was cold metal in his hand. Warhu pulled the silver arrow from the ground and held it in the upturned palms of both his hands. It was heavy for an arrow but lighter than a spear. He regarded the alien object again for a long time. Warhu said, “Surely this is the greatest catch a son of the forest has made on his hunt in many generations. Not since the days of Ddamu son of Inanna who stole dry land from Tiamat lord of the deep has a warrior brought back such a treasure to his tribe.” And Warhu declared, “My prey has been delivered into my hand. From now, I shall be called a son of the forest and a warrior of the hunt.” That very night Warhu returned to his village with the silver arrow in his hand. He brought his treasure to the elders of his village and presented it to them. The elders were amazed at the arrow Warhu held in his hands. They said, “In all our lives and in the lives of our mothers and fathers, none has seen such a thing as this. Surely Warhu son of Sapsu is favored for his hand has taken hold of a great treasure, and he has brought favor upon the name of his mother and father. Favored must be the village whose son of the forest brings home such auspicious gifts under the moon.” Warhu gave the arrow into the keeping of his mother who placed it above the hearth as a sign of the sure blessings that must come upon their house and their the village. Days of feasting were called by the elders and the whole village rejoiced. But their joy was turned mourning.
Ten days after Warhu came down from the forest bearing the silver arrow, one of the elder women of the clan became sick and soon died. The next morning three more of the village became ill in the same way and died. Plague had come. Soon too, not only the old succumbed, but also the warrior and the young. A baby of not yet a month died in his mothers arms, then another and another. The elders gathered for council. They determined that the Arrow of Warhu was responsible for bringing the plague. Surely the young warrior had brought this destruction on them by taking the Arrow in his hand. It must be returned to its place and days of mourning be called to propitiate whatever god had brought down this plague upon them. The elders took the Arrow, and Warhu lead them to the glen where he found it that night. The elders stuck the Arrow back in the ground and left. All of the tribe gathered for seven days of sorrow and morning. At the end of the days of morning, the plague did not abate, and still those of the village became sick and died. The elders again gathered, and the elder Mayya stood and said, “Surely the Arrow has brought this evil upon us, not by offense, but as an act of war. It must be broken.” This was good in the ears of the elders, so they returned to the glen and took the Arrow in their hands and broke it with fire, with stones, and with strong levers of wood. And they cast the pieces into the strong flowing stream, and it was washed away to the sea. Yet the plague continued, and the village was brought very low and greatly sorrowed with fear. Then the elders gathered again for council, and the elder Samas stood and said, “Surely there will not remain one of us alive if this plague does not turn back from us. We returned the Arrow in humble mourning, and the plague did not abate. We broken the Arrow by the power of our hand, and the plague did not turn back. Now, there is told of a wise woman who lives across the mighty river Ir and beyond the wilderness. She sits under the white oak and gives wisdom to all who will seek her. Let us inquire of her what we are to do to save our lives and our village from death.” Samas’s words were good in the ears of the elders. The elders said, “One must be chosen to go on this perilous journey.” Then Warhu stood and said to the elders, “I, Warhu son of Sapsu, am the one who took this Arrow in my hand and brought this plague upon my people. Send me on the journey to the wise women that I may save my village and my mother’s and father’s name from the evil I have brought upon them.” So the elders agreed to send Warhu to seek the wise woman.
That very day Warhu went out from the village to seek the wise woman. He traveled alone in the woods many days. One night a lone wolf howled in the darkness. Warhu lure the wolf into the campfire light with dried meat from his pack, and the wolf followed him as a faithful companion all the days of his life. And Warhu named him Reya. The next day Warhu came upon a great raging bear in the path. Warhu shot the great bear with many arrows, and Reya chased the bear away. After another day’s journey Warhu arrived at the banks of the great river Ir and camped for the night to make the crossing at dawn. That night Warhu awoke to the growls of Reya, and, look, a ravenous he-lion stood before him. Warhu jumped on the lion’s back and strangled him with his bare hands. At dawn Warhu arose and stirred up his courage to cross over the mighty roaring river. He waded into the water, and the water came up to his knees, and Warhu kept his courage. And the water came up to his waste, and the strength of Warhu began to waiver. And the water rose up to his neck and lifted Warhu off his feet. And Warhu cried out in fear and his courage left him. The water swirled and bore Warhu up and carried him along. It happened after a time his feet touched again the rocks of the bottom of the river, and Warhu waded to the other side, and Reya followed after him over the water. Warhu climbed the opposite bank and saw before him a wide and wild wilderness. Warhu said to Reya the wolf, his lone companion, “This is the sorest challenge we have yet to face.” Warhu and Reya traveled many days. They hid from the sun in the cramped shadows of rocks by day and traveled in the dark chill by night. They bore much hunger and heat and thirst and cold, but in time they came safely to the other side. There they saw a green hill and upon the hill stood the white oak. The wise woman sat under the white oak.
Warhu said to the wise woman, “Favor be upon you and upon your children’s children. Your wisdom is known throughout the lands. I come begging wisdom for my tribe, for surely not one of us will remain alive if your wisdom cannot deliver us. I have traveled through forest and water and wilderness. I have overcome wolf and bear and taken the life of a lion with my own hands to seek your wisdom. I seek your wisdom not for myself alone, for then my strength would have failed, but for the life of my people. I have come through all these to seek your instruction to save the life of my village.” The wise woman answered and said, “You have down well, young warrior. What wisdom do you seek?” Warhu said, “I have brought deadly plague upon my people, and we can, neither by abasement nor by strength, turn back the death that even now rages among us.” And Warhu recalled to the wise woman how he found the Arrow and all that had happened. No detail he left out, how even the infant and the warrior succumbed, and all that the elders had done and said to turn back the plague. And Warhu asked, “What must we do to turn back this evil?” Then the wise woman said, “There is no strength in you, mighty warrior, strong enough to reverse this plague. But this is what you must do if you would save the life of your people: take ten silver ash branches with no dead leaves on them and make ten stout arrows. And make ten cords woven of silver thread and green thread and tie them to the feet of ten infants — five male and five female — from the day they are born until their tenth day, and take the cords and bind them to the ten arrows. And take ten warriors skilled with the bow who can hit a sycamore seed on the highest branch without missing to the right or to the left, and have the warriors take the ten arrows with the ten silver and green cords from the infants — five male and five female — and have the archers shoot, all as one, the ten arrows with the ten cords into the sky on the first night of the new moon. Thus may this sore plague be lifted from among you.”
So Warhu heard the word of the wise woman and he returned to his village and he reported all that the wise woman had said for them to do. The elders of the village did all that the wise woman had spoken just as she said. They took ten silver ash branches and made ten stout arrows. And they wove cords of silver and green thread and they tied them to the feet of newborn infants from the day they were born until the tenth day — five males and five females. And when their tenth day came, the elders took the cord from each infant’s foot and bound the cord to one of the ten arrows. And when all the ten arrows from the silver ash branches were completed with silver and green cords, the elders took ten skilled archers who could shoot a sycamore seed from the highest branch of the tallest sycamore tree without missing to the right or to the left and on the first night of the full moon, and the arches pointed their bows to the sky. All as one, the skilled archers launched their ten silver ash arrows with ten cords into the darkness of the night sky. And all was silent.
The dawn of that morning came in the village with the feeble cries of a newborn babe. She lived to ten days old and was not sick with the plague. And she lived to twenty days and was not sick with the plague. And when she had lived thirty days and had not died nor had she gotten sick, the people rejoiced for the plague had abated and the hand of death had been turned back from them. And they named the child Hadash, and she lived to see the lives of her children’s children and became an elder of her people.
But under the pale light of an altogether different moon, a silver streak descended unseen through the sky. An arrow landed. Its shaft stood stalk-straight up to the clear sky, and from it fluttered silently a silver and green cord in the cold night air.
