VIII. Escape

Thor drew the baneful Serpent further on board, staring straight into its baleful eyes, spinning large as platters. The World Worm glared back, belching poison as its tentacles whipped the waves. Hymir’s boat was engulfed in a venomous green cloud.

The giant Hymir lost color when he saw the serpent and the sea tumbling across his boat. Cthulhu’s wings beat the air, crackling like thunder.

Hymir was in a panic. He knew that if Thor managed to draw this Ouroborosian Beast onto dry land, the foundations of the worlds would be unbalanced, for the stars were not yet right. What the age-old cult of the Beothunk Skrældings had failed to do by design, an impudent god would bring about by accident.

Thor made the line fast to the gunwale and drew his hammer, preparing to smite the creature’s head; but as he swung Mjollnir high for the fatal blow, Hymir took his chance.

When Thor raised his hammer aloft, the giant fumbled for his bait knife and slashed the line where it passed across the gunwale.

The Great Worm flailed and started to slip back into the water. Thor lunged for the line, but when he pulled the line snapped, freeing the elder God to drop back beneath the waves. There was a bursting as of a rotting whale carcass and great malodorous bubbles rose from the waves.

The Spawn of Loki could be heard gibbering, as it swam deep into the ocean depths.

Thor bellowed and flung Mjollnir with all his might into the waves. The sea exploded higher than the clouds and when the Thunderer’s hammer flew back to his hand, it was dripping with ghastly gore.

Some say that Thor struck off the Serpent’s head beneath the waves, but I believe that mighty Cthulhu still lives and lies waiting and recovering for the end of days, when the stars will be right and Heimdall’s trumpet shall call it forth to battle Thor at Raganok.

And what of Raganok? According to the Eddas, first there will come Fimbulvetr, the winter of winters, which will last three years. The stars will vanish and the sun will burst. The sea will rear up and waves will pummel the shore because Jormungand, the Midgard Serpent, is twisting and writhing in fury, working his way onto dry land. With each breath, Jormungand will spew venom, so that all the earth and sky will be splattered and stained with his poison. The world will be in uproar, the air quaking with booms and blares and their echoes. Thor, son of Earth and gaping Jormungand will meet again, as they have before, for they are well matched.

A Brief Digression on the Symbolism of the World Serpent

In my studies I have come across many accounts of the Serpent. I will assume familiarity with the Judeo-Christian beliefs on the part of my readers and concentrate on the more exotic tales.

My most recent readings in this area are The Divine Serpent In Myth And Legend by Dr. Robert T. Mason, Ph.D., D.D. and The One that got Away by Thorskegga Thorn.

Carl Jung, student of Krafft-Ebing and colleague of Sigmund Freud, frequently referred to the symbol of the Ouroboros—the serpent swallowing its own tail in a continuous cycle of destruction and creation. This autophagic serpent was first seen as early as 1600 years BC in Egypt. It traveled via the Phoenicians to the Greeks, who named it Ouroboros. Many cultures believed that this globe-encircling serpent was responsible for earthquakes and tidal waves that damaged fishing fleets. Jung believed that the serpent was an archetype, to be found in every culture.

We begin with the divine serpents of Voodoo. These gods are morally neutral, but will work for good or evil depending upon who calls on them. Strongest is Simbu, the Serpent God of Darkness, but more widespread in belief is the Serpent Dambala, known to the Haitians as Le Bon Dieu. He is married to the Rainbow Snake, Aida-edo (the rainbow was associated by the Norse with the Northern Lights and the bridge to Asgard, as previously discussed).

The aboriginal Kabi people of Queensland, Australia also worship a rainbow serpent, known as Dhakhan, who leads them to watering holes.

In the Caribbean Islands, we find El Cuchilu (Cuchu-vilu, or Pig-Snake) an evil god of the sea who destroys fishing weirs, devouring the fish and killing any fishermen he can catch. Could Cthulhu be the origin for this name?

Japanese Shintoism also has a major evil Serpent God, Susa-No-Wo. In the chief drama of Japanese mythology, Susa-No-Wo insulted the sun goddess Amataratsu-omi-kami and caused her to hide in a cave until the crops failed and famine set in. In an interesting variation of crucifixion and resurrection, all the other Gods except Susa-No-wo lured her out and tied her to a tree so that she could not again deprive the world of light. The cultural importance of this story can be seen in that the Kanji characters for Japan are the Sun (Amataratsu Omi Kami) and the Tree. For his mischief, Susa-No-Wo was banished from Japan and became a non-persona in Shinto.

It is possible that all serpents of myth were derived from the Sumerian snake god, Zu, the lord of the watery abyss from which mortal life arises and to which it returns. Among the Celts the underworld serpent, Sucellos, represented the same dark power.

Just as the Vikings believed that Yggdrasil, the tree of life, is both guarded and gnawed by the serpent Nidhogg, (often associated with Jormungand), early Sumerian and Akkadian artifacts show pictures of a tree called the “axis mundi “, or the world axis, guarded by a giant snake. This also brings to mind the Serpent in the Garden, coiled in the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.

The Norse fishing myth of Thor and Jormungand is frequently compared to the Hindu tradition of Indra and Vritra. The great Serpent Vritra blocked the major rivers, bringing famine to man. The God Indra attacks the Serpent with his lightning bolt, sundering its belly and releasing the waters. This battle takes place annually. Idra and Thor may both have their origins in a common Indo-European myth.

Another account of this saga, Ulf’s poem, survives in fragments and can be dated to 983, making it the oldest surviving Norse lay. The poem gives a description of a wood carved mural from the hall of Olafr Pa showing deeds of gods and heroes

The carved mural depicts the fishing scene, appearing to invoke Thor’s role as protector of mankind and therefore protector of the dead. As in many surviving renditions (Gosforth tombstone, Cumbria, England; Hordum Ty stone, Denmark; Altuna stone, Uppland, Sweden), Thor’s feet are shown protruding through the bottom of the boat, witness to his exertion of divine power and confirming Snorri’s account.

VII. Caught

The boat became lodged on the newly risen isle. As Thor pressed against the deck, his feet smashed through the bottom of the boat and sank into the stinking muck below. Bubbles of putrid gas burst free from the mud, fouling the lungs and burning the eyes.

However, once his feet made contact with terra firma, Thor felt his strength renewed and he pulled harder upon the line. The mass of the monster drew closer as the god exerted himself.

Cthulhu suddenly rolled, broaching the surface with a sail-like wing and sowing saltwater across the craft. The salt spray briefly blinded Thor, but Hymir stared in terror at the writhing mass of wings and tentacles that passed close by. The giant gazed at the most frightening secret the sea had ever offered up to surface world. A vast undulating mass, a great Kraken-headed dragon bellowing and barreling around his fragile ship. And he knew that if the Jormungand were drawn completely onto the shore, the world of the Giants and Gods would end.

Shaking his head, unable to free a hand to clear his vision, Thor steadied his grip and started to pull anew. The wind rose, tossing the fog about as the glistening green behemoth circled their newfound perch. His massive red eyes glowing through the mist like a fire on the sea.

Passing close and raising his mammoth querulous head from the sea, Cthulhu stared into the face of the God, then opened his parrot-like beak, hidden beneath the tentacles and hissed his venom at his pursuers. Hymir ducked, feeling the acid sting across his shoulders and neck, but still-blind Thor took it full in his face.

With a roar, the Thunder god jerked back the line, ripping the forward half of the monster free of the sea and onto the deck.

In this chapter, there is a reference to the Nordtljós. This is the Norse name for the Northern Lights, or Aurora Borealis. As has been explained by Professor Alv Egeland of the University of Oslo, the first known written description of these auroral displays in Norse Literature was in the handwritten Konungs Skuggsjá (Speculum Regalae or King’s Mirror) in 1200 AD, which described the dancing lights in great detail. In Norse legend, the lights have been associated with the heavenly bridge, Bifrost, which links the earth and Asgard. It was believed that this bridge would collapse into the sea when the Midgard Serpent was loosed at Ragnarok. The Cthulhuvida again presents a slightly different version as well as pre-dating the King’s Mirror by two centuries.

VI. The Catch

Just at that moment, something took Thor’s bait. The giant’s boat jerked, then rocked from side to side. The waves started to foam as if they were being whipped from below. Then the rope went taut. The muscles in Thor’s arms bulged as he began to draw in the line.

Far below, the head of HeavensRiot had struck Great Cthulhu, awakening him from his eldritch slumber. The great Cephalopod snapped at the bait, drawing it near with his many tentacles and swallowing head and anchor whole. Feeling the bite of the hook, he drew back fiercely, trying to free himself.

The two gods held steady for a moment, beads of water springing from the line drawn between them. Then, slowly, with a strange hissing sound, Hymir’s boat began to move across the waters. Thor braced himself against the stern, looped the line over his shoulder and pulled.

Cthulhu had stirred himself from his ocean bed. He was awake, but the stars were not right and there was Pain. He was very familiar with Pain, but never before as a recipient. He raced to escape, as R’lyeh started its premature ascent.

In the boat, Hymir was staring in horror at the sky. There was a distant shrieking as the Nordtljós spread though the fog like a gleam of oil on the waters. They gave a cold, colorless light, like tarnished silver, blotting out the scattering stars.

They were now racing across the waves, drawn by their as-yet unseen catch. Ahead in the distance, Hymir saw a spire rising in the moonlight. “Veorr, I have sailed these seas my entire life and I have never seen that tower before. I don’t know where this monster has taken us.”

“Just hold tight, my giant friend, and we’ll soon tire this tadpole.” Thor braced his feet against the bottom of the boat and leaned back against the pull of the cord. Beads of sweat were freezing across his shoulders and falling to the deck like hail.

A shudder went through the boat as they scraped something beneath the waves. “Now I have him,” cried Thor. “All I need is somewhere solid to plant my feet and I’ll pull him aboard.”

Hymir was not comforted by this boast, as he knew that to loose Great Cthulhu from his sunken tomb was to hasten the end of the world they knew. He had no wish to call Ragnarok down upon their heads.

As the land rose beneath them, the waves grew choppier, and the wind howled. They were drawn nearer and nearer to the Monolith rising towards the gibbous moon, as Thor reeled them nearer and nearer to their prey.

The following chapter refers to an account from the “Saga of Eric the Red” from the Flateyar-bok, compiled by Jon Thordharson in around 1387. In that story, the mostly christianized Vikings are stranded on the coast of Vinland when Thorhall, still following the old faith, prays to Thor and a whale is washed onto the shore. The priest refuses to eat, but the Viking colony is saved from starvation.

V. The Baiting

The veils of fog parted to reveal a gibbous moon low over the water. Its reflection seemed to be doubled beneath the black surface, as though there were a sandbar far out to sea. To the west, the sun was sinking into the waves, staining the waters red, but no stars could yet be seen. The twilight winds shifted unsteadily, changing over to their nighttime patterns.

Thor stashed his oars beneath the bench and took up a rope as thick as a man’s arm. He fixed the end of it to a large hook, which the giant sometimes used as an anchor.

Not wanting to look a coward, Hymir had cast out his lines into the scarlet waters while Thor was making ready. He stared fearfully down into the hidden depths, worried at what they might bring up.

As he had once done for Thorhall the Hunter, Thor called across the waters to the whales and soon a pod of them approached the boat.

Hymir felt a tug on his line, but his hands were shaking so that he could not draw it in.

“Look out, you’ve caught one!” Thor leapt to his side and started to help draw in the line. Hymir flinched back, falling to the deck and almost tumbled overboard.

“Keep steady or we’ll lose it.” Hand over hand, the giant and the god pulled in the line. As it drew nearer, Thor realized that they had caught two whales on a single hook. “Two in one cast! You are a mighty fisherman, Hymir. I knew I would learn something from you.”

Once they had pulled the whales close enough, Thor reached over the side and brained each of them with his hammer, Mjollnir.

Hymir then made them fast to the boat, tying one to each side. “We’ve caught enough. The sun is gone and we should head back if we want to sleep at all tonight.”

“But I haven’t caught my dinner yet.” Baiting the anchor with the gory head of the bull, HeavensRiot, Thor flung it overboard, shattering the reflection of the moon into a thousand sparkling waves.

The bull’s head slowly sank to the bottom, deep into the Stygian depths where no light had yet penetrated. Hymir wrapped himself in his cloak and they settled back to wait.

In the next section of the story, Thor meets the Midgard Serpent. In Gods and Myths of Northern Europe, H. R. Ellis Davidson has pointed out that this fits a recognized pattern in world mythologies, where a Sky-God fights a World Monster. This is also seen in the legend of Saint George and the Dragon. Again, this episode differs from the popular The Life of Hymir, giving a much more detailed account of the battle and calling the Serpent by its Beothuck name, a name not suited to the English tongue, Cthulhu.

IV. Setting out to Sea

The sea was black as ink, with tepid waves like ripples in velvet. The only sound was of the oars breaking the water. The Giant Hymir started to row faster, hoping to exhaust his guest. “Let me know if you begin to tire, Voerr, and we can take a break.”

Thor, disguised as Voerr, was ready to take his hammer, Mjollnir, to the giant’s head, but he restrained himself and replied that he was just getting his second wind. Thor then increased his pace and the boat began to fly across the water.

They soon came to the reef where Hymir was accustomed to sit. “Stop!” Hymir cried. “This is where I always fish for whales.”

“Then this is where you failed to catch a minnow yesterday?” Thor continued to row. “Surely if we go out deeper, we can catch bigger fish. Besides, I’d like to get beyond the fog.”

Hymir was not pleased with this idea, but Thor rowed for a few more hours. They were soon out so far that Hymir could no longer smell the land. The fog had not thinned, so that it was impossible to know the hour. Again Hymir said that they should stop, as it would be dangerous to go any farther in the dark and he had no desire to spend the night at sea.

“Near here is the home of the Midgard serpent, which you call Jormungand and the Skraelings Cthulhu. It is not safe to fish in these waters, especially at night.”

“Cthulhu!” said Thor. “I’ve met his head priest and now I’d like to meet him.”

Hearing this, Hymir realized that Thor must indeed be one of the gods, as no single man ever escaped after seeing the Red Men of the North. They had even managed to chase most of the Vikings out of Vinland and into the arms of the Christians. It was believed that the Beothuck painted themselves with the blood of their victims, being very fond of the color red, and that they offered all strangers to their dead priest, Cthulhu, hoping to entice him back from the watery depths.

Early the next morning, Thor awoke to hear Hymir grumbling because there was no food left for breakfast. Thor sprang up and reminded Hymir that they were to go fishing together that day.

Hymir was feeling ale-sick and wanted to get away from this annoying youth. He tightened his coat. “It’s bitterly cold out there, Voerr. Are you sure you want to go? You may be able to eat and drink like a giant, but you won’t be able to row like one. A young fellow like you could catch cold sitting out to sea as long as I usually do.”

Thor assured him that he had no fear of the cold and that he didn’t think he would be the first to want to return. “I know you have fishing gear on your boat, but what shall I use for bait?”

Hymir was getting increasingly angry and replied that Thor could find plenty of worms in the field where the cattle had slept. They walked outside and Hymir pointed out the field where the cattle slept.

“Just look for the steaming dark spots in the snow. The cows always mark where to dig for baitworms. But be sure to watch for my bull, HeavensRiot. I’ll be preparing the boat and won’t be near to help if he decides to have you for breakfast.”

Thor knew that the bull, HeavensRiot, was also called the Walker of the Waste. He was a huge black beast, with a heart of ice and fiery eyes. The local Eskimaux tribe, who believed that he herded glaciers to the sea, worshiped him.

Thor climbed among the cliffs and found the giant’s cattle grazing. Walking directly to HeavensRiot, he stared into the fiery eyes, swung his hammer Mjollnir and knocked off the bull’s massive head. Leaving the body cooling in the snow, he carried the immense head back to use as his bait.

Thor found Hymir pushing the boat off the shore. When Hymir saw that Thor was carrying the head of HeavensRiot, he quickly shoved off, leaving Thor on the beach.

“No, good giant,” Thor laughed. “You invited me to go fishing, so fishing we shall go. I have my bait and would match my luck against yours.” Thor balanced his grisly trophy across his back, seizing a horn in each hand and leapt onto the boat.

Dropping the head onto the deck, Thor sat at the stern and took up his oar. Hymir seated himself at the prow and they started rowing in silence. In his head, Hymir was raging at the arrogance of his unwanted guest.

The fog closed in to hide the dawning sun as they traveled across the bay and out into the ocean.

II. Hymir the Giant

A giant called Hymir kept a camp on the coast of Vinland, where he fished for whales. Hymir was an ugly man, short for a giant and stout, grey-faced with wide pale eyes, and he could not grow a beard. Hrod his wife looked the same, save her beard was fine. The camp was on a bay, surrounded by craggy cliffs grazed precariously by a herd of cattle.

Now in years past this had been a prosperous camp, and Hymir had caught whales without number. But of late a darkness had fallen upon the bay. Whales were scarce and the cattle were growing unwholesome.

When Thor arrived at the camp, Hymir was out to sea, so Hrod welcomed Thor to their home. She recognized the Thunder God as a friend of her son, Tyr, and recommended that he disguise himself before Hymir returned, as there was no love lost between the Gods of Asgard and the Giants. Thor disguised himself as a red-haired youth and told her to call him Voerr.

She seated Thor in Tyr’s highchair so that he could reach the giant’s table. Night was falling and the sky was lit with an eldritch glow, far out to sea. Outside they could hear the icebergs grumbling like distant thunder; indeed, the very earth shook with fear when Hymir strode home from the hunt. He entered the hall wearing a beard of icicles and tossed his cloak to the floor.

“No luck again today. Not a nibble. But what of your day, wife? I saw footprints in the snow and I know that we have had a guest.”

Hrod replied that a friend of his son, Tyr, had come to visit. “He is called Voerr and is waiting at the table for supper.”

Hymir sat at the table and eyed Thor with suspicion, for he knew Tyr lived with the Gods, and he suspected that this was one of them, though he could not tell which one.

Having no proof, however, and being famished himself, he thought it best to be polite. So he told Hrod to prepare a great feast. Three cows were roasted and placed before the giant and the god.

Thor was a valiant fellow at the table as well as in war, and even in his reduced guise, he fell upon the meal with gusto. He devoured an entire cow while Hymir and Hrod split one.

Hymir’s eyes widened when Thor reached for a second cow, for the giant had a cruel custom when he had uninvited guests. If they should fail to eat as much as he, then he would feign offense and slay them.

“Truly, friend Voerr, you do have a giant appetite for a mewling babe. Seldom did that chair see so much duty when Tyr sat there. As you have eaten all the meat that Hrod had in the larder, if you plan to eat with us tomorrow, you will have to catch your own fish. I cannot be expected to provide beef for such a gluttonous child.”

Angered at this lack of hospitality, Thor growled that he would be honored to learn from such a great whaler as Hymir. Perhaps they could catch twice tomorrow what Hymir caught today.

At last the table was bare, so Hrod showed Thor where to sleep.

In the year 1000, as the Christians measure time, the old ways were being forgotten. Norway and Iceland had converted to Christianity and only the western lands of Greenland, Markland and Vinland remained true to Asgard.

Thor had been hearing much of the wonders of Vinland from Thorvald, son-in-law of Erik the Red, and decided that he would go and see it for himself. Disguising himself as a youth, Thor left his home at Bilskirnir, tucked his hammer Mjollnir into his belt and set out to the west.

After many days of walking across the ice, Thor came across a strange tribe of Skraelings, now known to us as the Beothuck. They lived apart from the other Esquimaux, painted their bodies and clothing with red ochre, and worshipped a fetish of a winged Kraken. The Beothuck claimed that the Great Old Ones has dropped the cuttlefish stone from the sky when they fled into the sea when the world was new. Those Old Ones were gone now; but their dead bodies had told their secrets in dreams to this tribe, who formed a cult that had never died.

Leading Thor into their camp, they explained to him that the Old Ones were waiting for when the great priest Cthulhu, would rise from his dark house under the waters and bring the earth again beneath his sway. Some day, when the stars were ready, he would call. The Beothuck and their secret cult would always be waiting to liberate Cthulhu for Ragnarok, the twilight of the gods.

The Beothuck then moved forward and seized Thor, as they recognized him as a god and wished to use him in one of their unholy sacrifices. There was one man among the Beothuck, of large size and fine bearing, whom Thor concluded must be their chief. He pulled Mjollnir from Thor’s belt, but was thrown to the ground by its weight, as only one who is worthy may handle Mjollnir.

Thor stooped and grabbed his hammer, swinging it in a mighty circle. He swept back the Skraelings holding him, and knocked off the head of their chief. The rest of the tribe then took up their hideous idol and fled into the woods.

Thor continued south.

In icy waters off Vinland’s shore, mighty Thor goes fishing.

‘Let there be fog
And let there be phantoms
Weird marvels
To baffle your hunters.’

-Njal’s Saga, trs. Magnus Magnusson & Hermann Palsson, 1960

Prologue

After my studies at Miskatonic University in Arkham, I spent a summer researching First Nations’ literature at Saint John’s University in Newfoundland. I was interested in the legends of the Beothuck Indians, a tribe that had died out early in the previous century.

Saint John’s Library possessed the papers and books of John Peyton, Magistrate of Twillingate, who had captured and kept the last surviving Beothuck, who he called Mary March. After Mary’s death, Magistrate Peyton had collected all accounts of the Beothucks that he could find.

It was there, moldering in the archives, that I found a dissenting account of Thor’s battle with the Midgard Serpent, differing in significant details from the Prose Edda of Snorri Sturlason.

The original was in Icelandic, with some terminology in ancient Greek and an unknown language.

My translation follows.