When Gilgamesh's oppressions of Uruk grew unbearable to the people, and they cried out to the gods for relief, the goddess Aruru — who had once made mankind from clay — was bidden by Anu to make an equal match for the king. She washed her hands, took clay from the riverbank, and pinched it into shape; and the figure she made was Enkidu — strong as Gilgamesh, fierce as Gilgamesh, but unkinged and unhoused, set down upon the steppe to live among the gazelles, eating grass with the wild herds, drinking with them at the watering-holes.
Enkidu was discovered by a hunter, who had come upon his traps unset and the trapped beasts freed by this strange wild man; the hunter went to Uruk, and Gilgamesh sent the temple-prostitute Shamhat into the wilderness to civilize Enkidu by the means proper to her art. Six days and seven nights Shamhat lay with him; and at the end of that time, Enkidu found that the gazelles fled from him, that the herd no longer knew him for one of their own. Shamhat fed him bread and beer; she clothed him; she taught him to wash and anoint himself; and she brought him at last to Uruk to meet the king who had been made his equal.
Of his bond with Gilgamesh — of their wrestling-match in the city street, of their journey to the Cedar Forest, of their slaying of Humbaba and of the Bull of Heaven — the Epic gives a fuller account than this volume can repeat. It is enough here to say that the gods, looking down, decided that the killings could not go unanswered, and that one of the two friends must die. They chose Enkidu. He sickened of an illness no medicine could touch; he dreamed dreams of being dragged by a winged demon into the dark House of Dust; and he died. Gilgamesh, who had not understood until then what death was, sat with the body for seven days and seven nights, refusing to let it be buried, until a worm fell from Enkidu's nose and the king at last conceded that mortality was real.



