As you cozy into your COVID cocoon, snug as a bug in a rug, now’s the time to think about crocodiles. They can’t get you now – you’re inside!
In Ancient Egypt that might not have helped, because crocodiles were kept as pets. They wore jewelry and had special piercings to display their jewelry. Crocodile Body Piercer: there’s a high risk occupation. I wonder if it was considered “essential business” during a fever epidemic. You can bet the Egyptians didn’t close the houses of worship for a little plague. They would be earnestly supplicating the divine temple crocodile Petsuchos – a living, breathing god incarnate – for relief.
River crocodiles are wily hunters who have been observed hunting in tandem. Sometimes they cower with brush on their snouts hoping to lure birds seeking nesting materials. They have good memories and monitor the routines of prey animals. Crocodiles clamp their victims in powerful jaws and hold them underwater until they drown. (Crocs themselves can stay underwater several hours.) Then they dismember the bodies by thrashing in the water until the pieces are small enough to swallow.
Crocodiles lay their eggs on land near water and cover them with grass, mud, or sand to protect from the heat. Then the mother crocodiles rest close by to guard the nest. When the babies are ready to hatch, they mew inside their eggs. As they emerge, the mother carries them in her snout to the water. She will protect them from predators while they are small.
Crocodilians have a lot of patience, and spend much of their lives waiting around for eggs to hatch or a meal to appear. This is a magical quality in much demand at the moment, as we wait for the pandemic to subside. More crocodile magic can be found in my book Divining with Animal Guides.
The heat of summer is full upon us, excruciating in parts of
the Northern Hemisphere, and this makes me think of scorpions. It’s a reminiscence,
not a vigilance, because I now live far enough north that I don’t have to check
my shoes every time I put them on. No wonder people in Arizona like sandals!
Scorpions are fascinating, multi-faceted creatures. They
embody mystery, in the sense that they become more intriguing the more you
learn about their secret world. They embody boundaries, in the sense that much
larger creatures are respectful of them and their venom. They embody
transformation, in the sense that their venom has huge effects on the human
Scorpions are dangerous and live in a dangerous world, hunted continually by birds. Even mating is dangerous. Summer is scorpion courtship season, involving a dance pincer-to-pincer under the starry sky. That sounds sweet, but since both parties are heavily armed it can involve stinging. Some scorpions reproduce parthenogenetically, which seems like a better idea.
The Egyptians had a scorpion goddess, Selket, who was
called upon for protection against—you guessed it—scorpions. Selket was one of
the guardians of the “canopic jars,” the containers holding the pickled remains
of four vital organs of the deceased: liver, intestines, lungs, and stomach.
The heart, the all-important anchor of the soul within the body, was preserved,
wrapped, and returned to the body cavity. The brain was thrown in the trash.
Each of the four organs was guarded by a specific deity, and Selket protected
the intestines. The guardian deity was depicted on the outside of the jar along
with hieroglyphic prayers to invoke that deity’s protection. This label also
helped the expired prince remember which jars housed his various organs.
Labeling funerary objects was an important precaution: not only did the rich
take a lot of stuff with them, the world beyond had so many people—as many
people as had ever trod the earth—that mixups were a potential complication.
Thus everything was tagged, and clothing and bedding contained laundry marks.
This consistent attention to organizational detail in preparation for the final
voyage may strike some people as absurd, but think about it: would you want to
root around in someone else’s canopic jar by mistake? Selket was entrusted with
an important responsibility.
Selket’s other major role was helping the deceased draw
their first breath in the afterlife. Most “death goddesses” are really
death-and-birth goddesses, and breath is the fundamental connection to life.
Selket initiated breathing in both worlds. To emphasize this nurturing aspect
of Selket’s character, she was sometimes depicted without a stinger or as a
stingless Water Scorpion. The Water Scorpion is not an arachnid but an insect
in a family biologists call the “true bugs.” Water Scorpions are true bugs and
fake scorpions, and most of them don’t even faintly resemble scorpions, but
there are a few with pincer-like front legs and long tails that look vaguely
reminiscent. The “tail” is actually a breathing tube that sticks out of the
shallow water. The Nile species depicted in art has a double-breasted air tube.
Here is an excerpt from a longer article on scorpions in the anthology, iPagan:
Renaissance scorpion magic was unequivocally combative,
used surreptitiously for destroying personal enemies. Outside of hot climates a
scorpion would have been a scarce commodity, all the more so because there was
no use for the creature which enjoyed public approbation, and this must have
heightened the allure for those dedicated to intrigue. Picture a man in tights
with a ridiculously large shirt collar gazing down at a desiccated scorpion
while rubbing his hands together and saying “Hahahahaha.”
The journey of magician and apprentice to the cave is a ruse for presenting bare-bones accounts of Egyptian wizardry. To my knowledge the spells used by Thoth magicians to enliven their pieces of wax have not been written down and translated, though I have no doubt that even today there are people claiming to have the authentic Egyptian incantation, for a price.
One would think that the last thing on Sendjehuti’s mind as his sandals crunched over the desert floor was attack by crocodile. He was far from any body of water and he was headed west, away from the river. Still, crocodiles were in his thoughts. He was not afraid of any beast, but he had to be sensitive to the fears of others.
At the top of the hill he waited for the child, who was scrambling to keep up with him. Further back, her panting nurse paused and forced air into her stout body. “Are you certain you are prepared to proceed with this, Sherit?” he asked, giving her a final opportunity to turn around. The girl had been named for him, but they called her Sherit.
“Of course I am prepared!” the girl replied, indignant. “I have been repeating those words in my mind for days. I have memorized my lesson. How could you think I would be thoughtless about something you have told me to do?”
“No, I did not think you would be disobedient,” he soothed. “But perhaps you are frightened. What we are doing today is extraordinary. Many adults would decline this opportunity without hesitation, and you still wear a child’s hairstyle. There is no dishonor in retreating.”
“I am not frightened,” replied Sherit, now more incredulous than angry. “I am with you.”
“You must think of me, as well as yourself. What if you lose your nerve and this becomes a disaster? People will say it was my fault for leading you into this. They will say I am a poor father and do not deserve any children.”
The child laughed. “If anyone finds the nerve to criticize you, they had better watch out. You will send a pair of leopards to tear off their heads. You will point their severed heads toward their bodies and make their mouths tell their hearts how foolish they are.”
Sendjehuti snorted as he walked on. Yet he knew the nurse Khenty-Nebet, breathing heavily behind them, had an opinion of his capabilities not much less fantastic than his daughter’s.
“After today, people will call me Sobek-Sherit, instead of Sherit,” the child continued.
“You will never get a husband with that name,” he teased.
She appeared to consider this. “It will be a secret name, and you and Seti will call me that.”
Wer-Seti was Sendjehuti’s nephew and the reason for this expedition. A very bright boy with more persuasiveness than diligence, Wer-Seti had instigated a campaign to get pulled from his school so he could be tutored by his famous uncle. Finding the boy filled with more abstract curiosity than true commitment, Sendjehuti had brought his daughter into the lessons to spur Wer-Seti into making an effort. Now Sendjehuti suspected his nephew of pretending to be slow in order to prolong the agreeable companionship of his cousin.
“Hurry up Nebet!” Sherit squealed behind him. “We’re going to be late for the crocodiles.” Khenty-Nebet groaned.
Eventually they reached the mouth of the small cave. He was surprised to see a lamp burning, although no one appeared to be around. He had brought materials for starting a fire, but this would make things easier. Sendjehuti reached in the pouch around his waist for a vial of olive oil and a flax wick, which he placed in a second vessel.
“Do they leave these pretty lamps here for anyone to steal?” asked Sherit.
Sendjehuti chuckled. Several magicians in his coterie used this cave. Outsiders who knew about this place would sooner raid the Pharaoh’s tomb than dare to trespass here. He lit the second lamp and examined the outer room, which fortunately was free of debris.
Khenty-Nebet had arrived and her breathing had returned to normal. “I will wait here while the two of you go inside,” she said.
Sendjehuti said nothing for several seconds. “If that is your choice,” he replied coldly. He would make sure to tell his wife of the nurse’s dereliction of duty. The girl was safe with him, but still.
Khenty-Nebet appeared to deliberate over whether she was more frightened of the crocodiles or of him. “I will stay here while you are inside,” she repeated.
“Wait with Khenty-Nebet,” he told Sherit, then made a more thorough inspection of the cave. In the second room a large animal scurried away in a furry blur. He had no idea what it was, and it escaped into a crevice too tight for him to squeeze through. He returned to the outer room and motioned for Sherit to follow him.
At the second entrance she hesitated. “Father, what if I don’t say the words right?”
He looked back at her. “You know the words. You told me earlier, remember?”
“Yes, but what if I don’t say them right? What if the crocodile says, ‘You are only a small girl; I don’t have to listen to you’?”
“Come in here and sit down,” he said. The room was small, dominated by a pool of water the diameter of a large snake. Writing covered the walls and the girl examined the dedications with interest, even through her fear. She could read almost as well as Wer-Seti. This lesson had been planned for the boy’s benefit, but he had begged off this morning with a stomachache.
“Nefert-Satendjehuti,” he addressed her, using her real name. “You are growing up and growing older, and before long you will be grown. You will untie that braid and wear your hair like a woman and you will have a woman’s duties. Eventually you will die. You will make that terrifying journey that no one escapes. At the gate to the world below the Great Ibis will be standing, and he will ask you to justify your bid for a second life.
“If you are allowed to pass there will be dangerous animals for you to confront: snakes, demon wildcats, and crocodiles. There is a snake down there so huge he has swallowed a donkey. There is a big-headed cat with putrid flesh dripping from her teeth and breath that will make your eyes water. There are menacing crocodiles, eight of them, surrounding you from every direction. They will flap their tails and try to capsize your boat, so they can tear your body in pieces.
“And what will you say? Will you say the words to make them slink away or will you say, ‘I am just a small girl’? Will you command them to leave you alone or will you say, ‘I don’t know how to say the words’? The crocodiles will laugh at you. They will yell, ‘Where is your braid, little girl?’ They will yell, ‘Let us say the words.’ They will take your arms, your legs, your head, and your heart far underwater to dissolve into oblivion. Is that what you are waiting for? Is that what is going to happen to you?”
A chastened Nefert-Satendjehuti put her fingers on her eyes. “No, I will not let that happen to me.”
Sendjehuti took a piece of dyed wax from his pouch and massaged it in his palm to make it pliable. He gave the beast he was molding a long fat tail and pronounced spines, not neglecting the teeth and claws. The eyes he made larger than a typical crocodile, but they rested on top of the head in a realistic fashion. He turned toward the pool and in the old language pronounced loudly:
Out of the waters of Nun, hear your name Bulging Blinker Out of the waters of Nun, turn your head to my voice Out of the waters of Nun, roll your body and recognize yourself Out of the waters of Nun, come to this place now You must obey me, because I created you You must obey me, because I bestowed your name You must obey me, because I call you now
He plunked the figure into the water. As the droplets splashed upward they erupted into an enormous creature, far larger than the pool. He had not anticipated making the crocodile this huge. The child emitted a high-pitched scream. The crocodile raised his head, opened his mouth, and let loose a long bellowing roar. As the sound died away, he heard the thin, wavering voice of Nefert-Satendjehuti:
Back in the waters of Nun, Bulging Blinker Back in the waters of Nun, you cannot molest me
As she spoke her voice gained volume.
Back in the waters of Nun, return to your abyss Back in the waters of Nun, I command you to go Back to the waters of Nun, I thrust a spear to your head Back to the waters of Nun, retreat from my attack You must obey me, because I am the one who commands you You must obey me, because that is the way of Maat You must obey me, because Thoth has written it so
The crocodile sighed and disappeared. There was a soft plop like a drop of water. Nefert-Satendjehuti put her arms around her father tight.
He held her a long while. The girl had performed surprisingly well; he had been sure when he saw the crocodile’s size that he would have to take over.
Eventually they heard a muffled sound outside the cave. Khenty-Nebet. “Go and tell her you’re all right,” he whispered.
The child scampered off and he followed, more slowly. At the exit from the inner chamber he raised his lamp to make sure he hadn’t left anything. From behind the dark crevice two eyes shone back at him.
Outside the nurse looked as though she had tussled with a crocodile herself. “Oh how great is the protection of the Two Ladies,” she wailed. “I thought that child had been eaten alive.”
“Nebet, I was fine the whole time,” Sherit protested.
Sendjehuti did not speak but began trekking quickly back to the village, leaving the two scrambling to catch up with him. He heard Sherit tell her nurse, “Nebet when we come here next time you will have to go inside. There is beautiful writing all over the walls.” He sighed with resignation. The girl had gotten a taste of power, and there was no possibility that the lessons were going to stop now, even if he succeeded in sending that lazy Wer-Seti back to school. He felt like he had been tricked into making his daughter his apprentice. He wondered if his nephew had masterminded the whole scenario, then wondered if he was giving the boy too much credit for guile.
He stopped and gave his daughter time to catch up. “Sherit, I think you know that you recited your spell today in an exemplary manner. Your speech was flawless. You did well.”
The girl responded with a grin. “I was not certain of that until you said so.”
He teased her gently. “I think you should make your mouth tell your heart how foolish you were, when you hesitated before the cave.”
She was silent for several seconds, then decided to acknowledge his point. “My heart, you must always remember that you have the ability to overcome the evil crocodiles. They can never harm you now.”
The American Alligator is cherished because we almost lost her. In the twentieth century the country was horrified to learn she had been driven nearly to extinction by unregulated hunting,but after decades of conservation this key swamp predator is no longer endangered. Continued conservation efforts focus on habitat preservation rather than hunting, which is now better controlled. The alligator hunting traditions of the Seminole Indians inspired the American sport of alligator wrestling. The moves originated in techniques for capturing large alligators, which would then be penned until ready to grill.
You may think crocodilian symbology has no relevance to you if you cannot reasonably expect to encounter an alligator in a parking lot or on a golf course, but if you cultivate a gator mind you will observe that this creature is all around you. It is common in advertising. You may have a tiny crocodile emblem on your shirts, and you may wear Crocs on your feet. Words referring to the crocodilian family arise frequently in conversation, and noticing this, and other animal signs around you, is the starting place for animal divination.
The crocodile is an appropriate mother deity not only for her position as apex predator (and thus ruler) of the Nile, but for her maternal instincts. Crocodiles are more like their bird cousins than other reptiles in taking responsibility for their young. Mothers do not feed while they are nesting, and they guard their eggs continually except for brief periods when temperatures rise so high that they must enter the water to cool off. Nile crocodiles prefer colonial nesting, although predation by humans discourages this behavior. Eggs are buried in sand, and babies squeak as they are hatching. As soon as the mother hears the squeaks, she uncovers the eggs and carries the babies in her mouth to the water. During their first months of life, juveniles seek out and receive protection from adults, usually but not necessarily the mother.
If you’re wondering who Wenut is (and most people are), this is the name of the Egyptian hare goddess.
The Egyptians had a hare goddess?
Yes, her name is also spelled Wenet, if that clarifies things for you.
Wenut is considered an obscure goddess, and she gets little or no mention in my library of books on ancient Egypt, not even the books on animals or goddesses. Yet I have seen a fair number of leporids in Egyptian art, usually presented without explication. In some cases I am not sure that I’m really looking at a hare, because the desert foxes also have long ears, and the Jungle Cat is sometimes drawn with exaggerated ears to distinguish it from the Libyan Wildcat. Yet Egyptian drawing conventions are so standardized that I’m confident that most of these long-eared creatures are hares.
One explanation for the ubiquity of the hare is that it is the hieroglyph for a common verb or sound. For example, Hilary Wilson in Understanding Hieroglyphs writes that the symbol for the hare corresponds to the sound wen and is the verb for “being.” To me this explanation begs the question. Why would the hare correspond to a common verb if it were unimportant?
Furthermore, one of the provinces in northern Egypt was called Hare, and the city of Hermopolis within this province had a hare as its emblem. Hermopolis had the main temple to Wenut.
The litmus test for whether an animal (or anything else) had religious importance in Egypt is its presence in funerary materials, and here, too, the hare does not disappoint. Hares appear as votive offerings, and are mentioned in funerary texts as well as illustrations accompanying those texts. Spell 17 of The Book of the Dead says the “Swallower of Myriads” lives in the Lake of Wenut. There are other references to Wenut in the Book of the Dead and the Coffin Texts. Wenut is not prominent in funerary literature, to be sure, but neither is she trivial.
Meditating on Wenut, whose name means “the swift one,” is a reflection on the meaning of obscurity, for hares with their genius for camouflage have a tendency to hide in plain sight. Understanding Egyptian mysteries requires extraordinary perspicacity, because what is important is not so much hidden as overlooked.
March is a March Hare Online Webinar Monday, March 9, 2015 7:00 Eastern Time (Daylight Savings) Cost $25 Webinar will be recorded
Happy Solstice everyone! This Sunday-Monday marks the time when, from our perspective, the sun is at its southernmost arc on the horizon in the Northern Hemisphere or its northernmost arc in the Southern Hemisphere.
A professional astronomer has recently published maps of the pre-dawn Egyptian sky as it would have appeared in the predynastic period on the morning of the winter solstice. The Milky Way exhibits an amazing likeness to the outsretched figure of the goddess Nut, with her feet on one horizon and her hands touching the other. The sun would have appeared in the winter solstice in the correct area of the figure’s anatomy to suggest to observers that it was being born by Nut. Nine months earlier, at the spring quinox, the sun began to rise an hour and a quarter after sunset in such a position that it appeared to fall into Nut’s mouth, which would have easily suggested the idea that the great female in the sky was swallowing the sun, only to bear him nine months later during the last days of what is now December.
Could this explain why the birth of the Sun King is celebrated at this time?
Here is another scientific explanation of sun movements and weather patterns.