The Journey to the Cedar Forest

What should be a six-week march the two heroes cover in three days. The poem moves them across the landscape in a quick rhythm — one stage and they walk twenty leagues; another and they walk thirty; at evening they dig a well, kill a beast for dinner, climb a mountain to make a flour offering, and sleep. Each evening Gilgamesh has a dream. The dreams come one after another and they get worse.

The first night a mountain falls on him, pinning him under it. The second a wild bull splits the earth in front of him with its horns. The third a thunderstorm shakes the world; lightning splits the trees; the ground turns black. The fourth a winged demon with a lion's face lifts him into the sky and drops him. The fifth fire falls from heaven; the air fills with ash; the rain becomes death. Each time Gilgamesh wakes shouting. Each time he turns to Enkidu, who has the gift of reading dreams.

Enkidu's interpretations are calm and steady. The mountain is Humbaba and we will pull him down. The bull is Shamash and he is protecting us. The storm is the help from heaven we have been promised. The winged demon — well, the demon was lifting you to safety; you fell, but you fell into a soft place. Each interpretation more confident than the last; each delivered as the matter-of-fact reading of a dream-expert. The night terrors are dragged into daylight and given a job. By the seventh day they have walked across half the world. They reach the edge of the Cedar Forest. They stop and look at it — the dense green wall of it, the sound of birds, the smell of resin. Then they raise their axes and walk in.