turned about, and as there was no place to alight upon, came back.  I took out a raven and let it go:  the raven went, and saw that the water had abated, and came near the ship flapping its wings, croaking, and returned no more.”  Shamashnapishtim escaped from the deluge, but he did not know whether the divine wrath was appeased, or what would be done with him when it became known that he still lived.** He resolved to conciliate the gods by expiatory ceremonies.  “I sent forth the inhabitants of the ark towards the four winds, I made an offering, I poured out a propitiatory libation on the summit of the mountain.  I set up seven and seven vessels, and I placed there some sweet-smelling rushes, some cedar-wood, and storax.”  He thereupon re-entered the ship to await there the effect of his sacrifice.

* I have adopted, in the translation of this difficult passage, the meaning suggested by Haupt, according to which it ought to be translated, “The field makes nothing more than one with the mountain;” that is to say, “mountains and fields are no longer distinguishable one from another.”  I have merely substituted for mountain the version wood, piece of land covered with trees, which Jensen has suggested.

** The mountain of Nisir is replaced in the version of Berossus by the Gordyaean mountains of classical geography; a passage of Assur-nazir-pal informs us that it was situated between the Tigris and the Great Zab, according to Delitzsch between 35 deg. and 36 deg.  N. latitude.  The Assyrian-speaking people interpreted the name as Salvation, and a play upon words probably decided the placing upon its slopes the locality where those saved from the deluge landed on the abating of the waters.  Fr. Lenormant proposes to identify it with the peak Rowandiz.

The gods, who no longer hoped for such a wind-fall, accepted the sacrifice with a wondering joy.  “The gods sniffed up the odour, the gods sniffed up the excellent odour, the gods gathered like flies above the offering.  “When Ishtar, the mistress of life, came in her turn, she held up the great amulet which Anu had made for her."* She was still furious against those who had determined upon the destruction of mankind, especially against Bel:  “These gods, I swear it on the necklace of my neck!  I will not forget them; these days I will remember, and will not forget them for ever.  Let the other gods come quickly to take part in the offering.  Bel shall have no part in the offering, for he was not wise:  but he has caused the deluge, and he has devoted my people to destruction.”  Bel himself had not recovered his temper:  “When he arrived in his turn and saw the ship, he remained immovable before it, and his heart was filled with rage against the gods of heaven.  ’Who is he who has come out of it living?  No man must survive the destruction!’” The gods had everything to fear from his anger:  Ninib was eager to exculpate himself, and to put the blame upon the