The Book of Wonder

by Lord Dunsany

  CHU-BU AND SHEEMISH

  It was the custom on Tuesdays in the temple of Chu-bu for the prieststo enter at evening and chant, "There is none but Chu-bu."

  And all the people rejoiced and cried out, "There is none but Chu-bu."And honey was offered to Chu-bu, and maize and fat. Thus was hemagnified.

  Chu-bu was an idol of some antiquity, as may be seen from the colourof the wood. He had been carved out of mahogany, and after he wascarved he had been polished. Then they had set him up on the dioritepedestal with the brazier in front of it for burning spices and theflat gold plates for fat. Thus they worshipped Chu-bu.

  He must have been there for over a hundred years when one day thepriests came in with another idol into the temple of Chu-bu, and set itup on a pedestal near Chu-bu's and sang, "There is also Sheemish."

  And all the people rejoiced and cried out, "There is also Sheemish."

  Sheemish was palpably a modern idol, and although the wood was stainedwith a dark-red dye, you could see that he had only just been carved.And honey was offered to Sheemish as well as Chu-bu, and also maizeand fat.

  The fury of Chu-bu knew no time-limit: he was furious all that night,and next day he was furious still. The situation called for immediatemiracles. To devastate the city with a pestilence and kill all hispriests was scarcely within his power, therefore he wiselyconcentrated such divine powers as he had in commanding a littleearthquake. "Thus," thought Chu-bu, "will I reassert myself as theonly god, and men shall spit upon Sheemish."

  Chu-bu willed it and willed it and still no earthquake came, whensuddenly he was aware that the hated Sheemish was daring to attempt amiracle too. He ceased to busy himself about the earthquake andlistened, or shall I say felt, for what Sheemish was thinking; forgods are aware of what passes in the mind by a sense that is otherthan any of our five. Sheemish was trying to make an earthquake too.

  The new god's motive was probably to assert himself. I doubt if Chu-buunderstood or cared for his motive; it was sufficient for an idolalready aflame with jealousy that his detestable rival was on theverge of a miracle. All the power of Chu-bu veered round at once andset dead against an earthquake, even a little one. It was thus in thetemple of Chu-bu for some time, and then no earthquake came.

  To be a god and to fail to achieve a miracle is a despairingsensation; it is as though among men one should determine upon ahearty sneeze and as though no sneeze should come; it is as though oneshould try to swim in heavy boots or remember a name that is utterlyforgotten: all these pains were Sheemish's.

  And upon Tuesday the priests came in, and the people, and they didworship Chu-bu and offered fat to him, saying, "O Chu-bu who madeeverything," and then the priests sang, "There is also Sheemish"; andChu-bu was put to shame and spake not for three days.

  Now there were holy birds in the temple of Chu-bu, and when the thirdday was come and the night thereof, it was as it were revealed to themind of Chu-bu, that there was dirt upon the head of Sheemish.

  And Chu-bu spake unto Sheemish as speak the gods, moving no lips noryet disturbing the silence, saying, "There is dirt upon thy head, OSheemish." All night long he muttered again and again, "there is dirtupon Sheemish's head." And when it was dawn and voices were heard faroff, Chu-bu became exultant with Earth's awakening things, and criedout till the sun was high, "Dirt, dirt, dirt, upon the head ofSheemish," and at noon he said, "So Sheemish would be a god." Thus wasSheemish confounded.

  And with Tuesday one came and washed his head with rose-water, and hewas worshipped again when they sang "There is also Sheemish." And yetwas Chu-bu content, for he said, "The head of Sheemish has beendefiled," and again, "His head was defiled, it is enough." And oneevening lo! there was dirt on the head of Chu-bu also, and the thingwas perceived of Sheemish.

  It is not with the gods as it is with men. We are angry one withanother and turn from our anger again, but the wrath of the gods isenduring. Chu-bu remembered and Sheemish did not forget. They spake aswe do not speak, in silence yet heard of each other, nor were theirthoughts as our thoughts. We should not judge them merely by humanstandards. All night long they spake and all night said these wordsonly: "Dirty Chu-bu," "Dirty Sheemish." "Dirty Chu-bu," "DirtySheemish," all night long. Their wrath had not tired at dawn, andneither had wearied of his accusation. And gradually Chu-bu came torealize that he was nothing more than the equal of Sheemish. All godsare jealous, but this equality with the upstart Sheemish, a thing ofpainted wood a hundred years newer than Chu-bu, and this worship givento Sheemish in Chu-bu's own temple, were particularly bitter. Chu-buwas jealous even for a god; and when Tuesday came again, the third dayof Sheemish's worship, Chu-bu could bear it no longer. He felt thathis anger must be revealed at all costs, and he returned with all thevehemence of his will to achieving a little earthquake. Theworshippers had just gone from his temple when Chu-bu settled his willto attain this miracle. Now and then his meditations were disturbed bythat now familiar dictum, "Dirty Chu-bu," but Chu-bu willedferociously, not even stopping to say what he longed to say and hadalready said nine hundred times, and presently even theseinterruptions ceased.

  They ceased because Sheemish had returned to a project that he hadnever definitely abandoned, the desire to assert himself and exalthimself over Chu-bu by performing a miracle, and the district beingvolcanic he had chosen a little earthquake as the miracle most easilyaccomplished by a small god.

  Now an earthquake that is commanded by two gods has double the chanceof fulfilment than when it is willed by one, and an incalculablygreater chance than when two gods are pulling different ways; as, totake the case of older and greater gods, when the sun and the moonpull in the same direction we have the biggest tides.

  Chu-bu knew nothing of the theory of tides, and was too much occupiedwith his miracle to notice what Sheemish was doing. And suddenly themiracle was an accomplished thing.

  It was a very local earthquake, for there are other gods than Chu-buor even Sheemish, and it was only a little one as the gods had willed,but it loosened some monoliths in a colonnade that supported one sideof the temple and the whole of one wall fell in, and the low huts ofthe people of that city were shaken a little and some of their doorswere jammed so that they would not open; it was enough, and for amoment it seemed that it was all; neither Chu-bu nor Sheemishcommanded there should be more, but they had set in motion an old lawolder than Chu-bu, the law of gravity that that colonnade had heldback for a hundred years, and the temple of Chu-bu quivered and thenstood still, swayed once and was overthrown, on the heads of Chu-buand Sheemish.

  No one rebuilt it, for nobody dared to near such terrible gods. Somesaid that Chu-bu wrought the miracle, but some said Sheemish, andthereof schism was born. The weakly amiable, alarmed by the bitternessof rival sects, sought compromise and said that both had wrought it,but no one guessed the truth that the thing was done in rivalry.

  And a saying arose, and both sects held this belief in common, thatwhoso toucheth Chu-bu shall die or whoso looketh upon Sheemish.

  That is how Chu-bu came into my possession when I travelled oncebeyond the hills of Ting. I found him in the fallen temple of Chu-buwith his hands and toes sticking up out of the rubbish, lying upon hisback, and in that attitude just as I found him I keep him to this dayon my mantlepiece, as he is less liable to be upset that way. Sheemishwas broken, so I left him where he was.

  And there is something so helpless about Chu-bu with his fat handsstuck up in the air that sometimes I am moved out of compassion to bowdown to him and pray, saying, "O Chu-bu, thou that made everything,help thy servant."

  Chu-bu cannot do much, though once I am sure that at a game of bridgehe sent me the ace of trumps after I had not held a card worth havingfor the whole of the evening. And chance alone could have done as muchas that for me. But I do not tell this to Chu-bu.