Eternal is not strictly correct, however. This reign of destruction lasts four hundred thousand years, during which time Vishnu sleeps on the coils of the great seven-headed serpent of eternity, which floats upon the gloomy sea. The long night over, Vishnu wakes and remodels the earth, and peace and light resume their sway. Seven such cycles pass; all things are annihilated, and Brahm sets about a new creation which goes the same round.
The eastern wise men, fond of allegory and parable, doubtless intended by this to express the persistence and order in the universe, even in periods of the most inexplicable disaster; and to picture for the ignorant the absolute eternity of God.
The thing was too good to let drop; and others added to it by asserting the earth was upborne by an elephant who stood on the back of a tortoise. The tortoise rested on a fish; the fish on water; the water on air; the air on light; the light on darkness; the darkness on the Lord only knows what. When these animals were somewhat wearied, they changed their position, and the earth trembled.
Greece had a somewhat better myth of the giant Atlas, who bore the world on his shoulders; but the old fellow’s gait was not of the steadiest. Rome, not much given to manufacturing her myths de novo, imported the Grecian fable. We have to-day appropriated the old fellow’s title for a geography supposed to contain the whole earth. The figure is lost on most.
But the alleged drunkenness of Atlas did not consort precisely with the popular ideas of the proper conduct of a steady old porter in a responsible position; and the mythmakers dragged in a new scapegoat in the person of the Titan Typhon, or Enceladus, supposed to be entombed in Mt. Ætna, as we have elsewhere noticed.
Inhabitants of parts of Farther India and of some Malayan islands believe that far down in the bowels of the earth an immense tiger, Pelu, lies asleep. The sole object of his existence is to destroy the earth; but he may not do this till the human race is extinct. Then he will rise to his feet, the earth will burst into fragments and fly into the distant realms of space. It must of necessity follow that our feline friend’s existence is a somewhat monotonous one, and to avoid ennui in his cramped quarters, he passes much time in sleep. Waking occasionally, and wishing like the German Barbarossa, to know if his time is come, he cautiously raises a few hairs on his back. The earth trembles, and the natives, rushing from their tottering houses throw themselves upon the ground, shouting loudly “Pelu! Pelu!” to assure his tigership that they are certainly alive. Satisfied on this point, the worshipful beast composes himself for another nap.
Thor, the war god of the Norsemen, wielded a mighty hammer, Miolnir. In the “Saga of King Olaf” we find Thor shouting:
“The blows of my hammer,
Ring in the earthquake.”
Another myth attributes the earthquake to the restlessness of the serpent Midgard, who encircles the universe, his tail in his mouth. Also, the wolf Fenrir, who is to take part in the final contest that produces Ragnarok, is supposed to have occasional differences of opinion before the time with certain of the fire giants. The earth is then liable to be shaken.
Natives of the Tonga group, in the South Pacific, believed that their hero-god, Maui, upheld the world on his breast. When he became restless and shook the earth, they would rush out and beat the ground with sticks to make him lie still.