It was a very long time ago, in the days before the rain forest when the great stone cities were teeming with people, that a piece of the sun fell from the sky into the ocean and gave birth to the giant god T'unu-kan. Some fishermen on the shore were the only ones to witness the miraculous birth, but only one of them would live to tell others of how it happened, and by the events of that day his life and the lives of all of his people would be changed forever.

Uaxac the Fisherman was the first to see the glowing ball detach itself from the sun and fall slowly through the sky. "Look!" he said to the others around him. "The Sun God is crying. What could have saddened him so?" Nobody could guess. They had been good people and had prayed faithfully to the many gods whose powers controlled the world. They had made offerings and sung loving songs, so why would the Sun God weep? All of the fishermen ran to the water's edge and watched in awe as the brilliant orb fell lower and lower and finally vanished on the horizon. There was a bright flash, like lightning, and then nothing more.

"It was just one single tear," one man said. "The Sun God must not be too upset."

The others agreed and went back to repairing their nets. Only Uaxac remained behind, staring with concern out to sea at the spot where the piece of the sun had disappeared. "Great Sun God," he whispered. "I apologize if we have made you sad. If you will tell me what we have done, I promise you that we will try to make you happy again."

That little prayer must have earned Uaxac the Sun God's blessing, which is why he alone was spared. Uaxac would realize later that it was not a tear that he had spotted, but the Child of the Sun himself, the god T'unu-kan, coming to the sea to be born. Never could he have imagined the terrible birth-agonies that the sea was experiencing, but they would soon become all too clear to him as he stood gazing at the horizon.

At first it appeared that the water was rising into the sky. Uaxac thought this to be very strange, and continued to stare as the sea grew higher and higher. "Brothers," he called nervously. "Come here. The sea is turning into a mountain."

"Come and help us here," was the only reply. "We have work to do."

Uaxac was afraid now. The mountain in the sea was growing larger before his eyes. Only when white froth crested along its peak did he realize that it was not a mountain, but a monstrous wave the likes of which no one had ever before seen, and it was almost on top of him.

"Brothers!" he cried. "Run away!" but it was too late. No sooner were the words past his lips than the wave was upon him. His ears filled with a roar like a hundred jaguars. Dark water and raging foam surged violently around him. His body was battered about, flung skyward for an instant, then plunged deep and spun round and round. He felt certain that he was going to die, but suddenly there was soft sand beneath him, and he was left lying upon it as the water retreated back into the sea.

It was a long time before he was able to get up; when he did, he could not tell where he was. The other fishermen were gone; so were the boats and the nets and the huts that they had built upon the shore. The water still leaped and raged, and fearing that it would rise up again, Uaxac scrambled up the beach and onto the hill that overlooked it. Weakly he called to his brothers but there was no answer. The sea had devoured them all and had left nothing behind. Nothing, that is, except for Uaxac, who sat alone on the hill then and lamented their loss.

Then he saw another strange sight. The sea was still writhing and lurching for as far as he could see, but out on the horizon a black shape was silhouetted against the sky. It could not be a wave, for it was round and bobbed in place, more like a huge ball. Uaxac watched it for a long time and realized that it was floating toward the shore. Eventually it was close enough that Uaxac could tell that it was not a ball, but the head of some gigantic animal. It looked very much like that of a black mink, but much, much bigger than any that had ever before been seen. It seemed to grow even larger as it floated toward him, and much to Uaxac's surprise he saw its eyes blinking in the spray. The head was alive!

Incredibly, it began to rise into the air. Beneath it there was a stout neck. To either side of it the water was churned into white breakers, and then huge shoulders surfaced, the waves crashing against them in great frothing sprays. Uaxac rubbed his eyes in disbelief, and watched dumbfounded as a great black chest emerged from the water, followed by a long, lean torso, and then two strong legs that crashed heavily through the sea as they carried the creature toward land. Its size was staggering -- already it towered higher than the biggest tree Uaxac had ever seen, and still it kept rising from the water.

One giant foot burst up from the depths and swept forward through the air, trailing a great sheet of water behind it. It came down on the shore with a loud boom and sank deep into the sand. The creature hesitated, its immense body swaying slowly, and then suddenly it toppled forward. Uaxac was thrown into the air from the impact, the noise of which stabbed painfully at his ears. He fell hard and rolled down the hill onto the beach, but he was not hurt, and hastily he scrambled back to his feet. The sea was still in turmoil, its waves thrashing loudly against the legs of the creature that now lay motionless on the beach. Uaxac was terrified, but as much as he was frightened he was also curious, and could not resist creeping forward like a mouse to investigate.

To say that nothing like it had never before been seen is saying too little. Uaxac could honestly not tell if it was an animal or if it was a man. Its enormous body was covered all over in dense black fur, which while wet made the creature look like it was carved out of onyx. Uaxac crept slowly around it, though he was not brave enough to try to touch it. Except for the head, the body under the fur seemed to be shaped just like a man's. He looked very closely at its hands to be sure. Only men have hands, and this creature did, too, even though they ended in big claws instead of nails.

He made his way close to its head, which was as much like a mink as the rest of it was like a man. Warm breath blew past him from an open mouth that was filled with teeth as big as Uaxac was. Water still trickled from the thick coat of fur and made puddles around the creature, puddles in which the sun's reflection danced. The sight of that reflection brought understanding all at once to Uaxac. Of course -- the sun! That ball of fire that he had seen had not been a tear after all. It had been the holy seed of the Sun God himself, and where it had fallen into the fertile sea this offspring of fire and water had been birthed.

Uaxac stumbled backward, overwhelmed by the revelation, and fell upon his knees. He trembled in the presence of the newly born god and sputtered hasty and earnest prayers. There was no answer, however, only the warm breeze of the god's breath rushing past him, and the equally warm touch of the Sun God's gaze upon his back.

At last Uaxac felt the courage to raise his head and peer at the god's vast face. "When you wake," he whispered, "my people will welcome you. I shall go and tell them of your glorious birth!" With that he jumped up and began to run for home.

It was a long journey from the shore to the city. Uaxac ran as fast as he could, slowing down to catch his breath only when he was nearly exhausted. He was far too excited about the arrival of the new god to waste time, and thus he presented a terrible sight to the priests when he stumbled into their chamber well after the sun had set. "He's here!" he croaked, falling down and crawling toward the astonished priests who had just gathered for their evening meal. "I saw him! He is the Child of the Sun!"

"What is all this?" one priest cried, leaping to his feet in alarm. "Who is this man?"

Uaxac was panting and waving his arms. "The god! He is a giant! All black, an animal, a man, I do not know! He came from the sea! That is, he came from the sun!"

"Slow down," another priest said. "Who are you talking about?"

"The god!" Uaxac shouted. "He came from the sea!"

"But you said he came from the sun."

Uaxac waved his arms more wildly. "He did! He came from the sun and then he came from the sea! I saw him! He is as big as a mountain!"

"Look at this." One of the priests pointed to a big lump on Uaxac's forehead that was starting to turn dark purple. "The poor man has hit his head. No wonder he is acting so crazy."

"But I am not crazy," Uaxac protested. "I saw the god come from the sea. We must be ready to welcome him!"

"There, there," another priest said as he gently held onto Uaxac's arms. "We will prepare a bed for you. You can tell us all about this god from the sea tomorrow."

"And the one from the sun," the first priest added with a little smile.

Uaxac's eyes darted from one man to the next. All of them were smiling at him as though he were a silly child. "But...but it is true," he said weakly.

"Of course. We understand. We promise that we will greet the new god tomorrow."

Then they gave him a cloth to wrap around his head and some isava balm for the lump, and told him to go home.

Miserable, Uaxac shuffled out of the temple and wandered through the streets. "Why do they not believe me?" he lamented. "Surely the Sun God speaks to them more than to a poor fisherman. Surely he would have told them to expect the arrival of his child." It made no sense, and the more that Uaxac thought about it the more confused he became and the more it made his head hurt. At last he stretched himself out by the side of the road -- he could not go home, of course, for his home had been swallowed by the sea -- and fell into a fitful sleep. In his dreams the breath of the new god warmed him against the evening's chill. Staring long into the shining black, vast expanse of fur that seemed to reach as deep as the ocean, Uaxac heard the god's name whispered to him by a sonorous voice: T'unu-kan.

He was sore and stiff in the morning when the sunlight woke him up. With a groan he climbed to his feet and, eager to see how the priests had prepared the welcome, he ran as fast as he was able back to the temple. To his dismay the great courtyard was empty, save for a single bird who picked at the grass blades that poked up between the cobbles, and who flapped away noisily when Uaxac ran past. "Fathers!" he shouted. "Why have you have not prepared?"

"Be quiet, You!" It was one of the young acolytes who assisted the priests in their ceremonies. "The Fathers are at prayer."

"But T'unu-kan must be made welcome!"

"T'unu-kan? Who is that?" Then the boy sneered. "Oh, it is you! You are the crazy man who interrupted the Fathers in their evening meal."

"I am not crazy!" Uaxac growled at the boy. "I saw him. T'unu-kan must be made welcome, or he will be insulted."

One of the priests emerged from the depths of the temple. "What is going on? Oh..." He smiled widely at Uaxac. "Hello again. How is your head this morning?"

Uaxac was beside himself. "Father, please believe me!" he cried, almost in tears. "I saw him with my own eyes. He is T'unu-kan, and he is the child of the Sun God. He was born in the sea. Please, please, let me take you to him. Then you will believe me!"

The priest looked at him pityingly and tugged at his chin. He was quiet for a very long time, and then he turned to the boy. "Go and gather them all," he said softly. "This man will not be at peace until we have seen this Child of the Sun for ourselves."

Uaxac fell to his knees. "Thank you, Father!" he sobbed. "Please, let us hurry."

"Of course."

It was with no small amount of grumbling that the priests began to gather before the temple. "Must we travel all the way to the ocean?" one complained. "It will take all morning."

"And the roads are difficult."

"All because a fisherman thought the saw a god!"

Uaxac was insistent, however, and the priests reluctantly followed him down the pitted and dusty road. He fumed impatiently as they dragged their heels and complained and balked at crossing the muddy areas. Many were the times the priests wanted to turn around and go home, but Uaxac desperately urged them on. They dawdled and moaned so much that the sun was already very high by the time they reached the spot where Uaxac's fellow fishermen had disappeared.

There was no sign of the god.

The priests glared at Uaxac, who ran down the hill onto the sand and stammered, "But he was here. I saw him!"

"Of course you did," said one of the priests. The tone of his voice was very cold.

Uaxac tried to protest, but the priests turned their backs on him and started back toward the city. "Not another word out of you," one called over his shoulder. "You have wasted enough of our time. If you speak of this so-called god again, you will be punished."

They grumbled and complained loudly and cast angry glances back at poor Uaxac, who wanted very much to make them believe, but nonetheless feared the punishment that they would mete out if he angered them. He ran along the shore in both directions, trying to find some sign of the giant god that had visited him the previous day, but the tide had washed the beach clean. Finally Uaxac gave up, and with a heavy heart he started along the path back to the city, following the priests but staying far behind them out of shame.

Some time later, with the sun beginning to sink lower in the sky, Uaxac reached the foot of a high hill. It was part of a ridge that was the last obstacle to climb before he reached the city, which lay nestled in a valley on the other side. He started to trudge along the steep path, but was surprised to see the priests clustered ahead, just at the crest of the hill. Too ashamed to face them, he stopped and waited for them to continue onward. Strangely, though, they stayed where they were. They were talking excitedly among themselves and pointing into the distance toward something that Uaxac could not see.

Suddenly his heart began to race. He broke into a run.

At the far end of the valley stood the god, bigger than a mountain, blacker than a shadow. Uaxac could see him clearly as he crested the hill and stood among the astonished priests. The god stood among trees that were known to be among the largest in the world, and yet they reached only just past his knees. Sunlight gleamed off of an amulet about his neck that was his only adornment. He stood with his hands on his hips, his muzzle upraised toward the sky.

Uaxac pointed excitedly. "You see!" he shouted. "There he is. It is T'unu-kan! We must welcome him!"

"Be quiet!" the priests barked at him. "We know what to do."

That did not seem to be so, since they were only standing and staring and whispering to one another. Uaxac tugged at their hands. "Come on, then! We have little time to prepare."

Angrily the priests pushed him away. "We will prepare," they growled. "You will stay here."

"But I ..."

"What does a fisherman know of the gods?" one of the priests sneered. "It is best to leave such matters to us."

"But..."

"Stay here! The Child of the Sun does not need a dirty fisherman defiling his welcoming ceremony."

They whispered excitedly to one another some more, and then started down the hill. One of them shoved Uaxac very roughly when he tried to follow, and the angry look that Uaxac was given told him that the priests meant what they said. Despairingly he watched them run down the hill toward the city, where many people had begun to gather in the temple courtyard, and then he turned to gaze upon T'unu-kan.

The god was still peering at the sky. He turned his head this way and that, as if searching, and then slowly turned his whole body about. A cloud of dust rose from below him, and Uaxac could see tall trees shuddering and falling around his feet.

Meanwhile, the city below was abuzz with activity. People were rushing about, gathering offerings of fruit and cattle. The god, however, had not yet taken any notice. He was more interested in the trees, and was crouching now and peering closely at them. With one hand he uprooted one and raised it to his muzzle. Even at this great distance Uaxac could see the god's huge nose quivering as he sniffed at the leaves. Then the god opened his mouth wide and bit off the entire crown of the tree, leaving only the bare trunk, which he casually tossed aside.

The priests hurriedly finished their preparations. Flowers were strewn about the courtyard, and all of the priests knelt in a group, surrounded by their acolytes. Minstrels played cheerful music with flutes and strings, the strains of which tickled Uaxac's ears up on the hilltop. It did nothing to ease his disappointment, however. It was unfair that the priests would not allow him to take part in the ceremony. Had it not been he who had witnessed the god's arrival? Had it not been he who had basked in the warm celestial breath before any other man?

Then again, he was still just a lowly fisherman. The gods, as the priests had always reminded everyone, had no interest in common people and in fact found their presence to be distasteful. That was why the streets were beginning to empty; the entire population of the city had been banished to their homes, forbidden to come out until the god had spoken with the priests and given them his blessings. At least I can still watch from up here, Uaxac thought.

T'unu-kan, however, did not approach. He remained squatting on his heels at the far end of the valley, which seemed a far more interesting place for him at that moment than the ceremony being held in his honor. Uaxac watched him closely, transfixed by the sight. T'unu-kan was handsome with the sunlight glistening off of his ebony hide, his whole body looking as though the shadows of the mountains had sprung to life and come together in one gigantic and magnificent form. It seemed strange that the Child of the Sun would be so utterly black, but then again, Uaxac reminded himself, T'unu-kan was still young. No doubt he would develop a fierier hide as he matured.

The priests were become restless, fidgeting, some of them standing and craning their necks to see if the god was approaching. T'unu-kan still paid not attention. He reached down through the trees and plucked something small and wiggly from among them. Uaxac squinted, but could not tell if it was a jaguar or a bear before the god ate it. For a brief moment it occurred to him that it might have been a man, but that idea was preposterous and he put it out of his mind.

At last the god stood up. He dusted off his hands on his furry legs and then raised his arms skyward in a gigantic stretch. He yawned, revealing long white fangs behind his lips. Finally then he began to walk toward the city. Each huge step covered more distance than Uaxac could throw his fishing net. Each heavy footfall pushed down stout trees as though they were merely blades of sawgrass. The god's massive legs pushed aside branches with ease and sent the birds squawking into the air in great colorful plumes. As the giant drew nearer, Uaxac could feel the earth tremble and a pounding like distant thunder started to echo off the hillsides.

The priests hastily returned to their positions in the center of the courtyard. The musicians played louder. Their faces were tense and eager.

T'unu-kan reached the wall of the city and stepped over it as easily as stepping over a log. As the earth quivered from the impact, the high priest raised his arms in prayer. The sun's rays gleamed off of his jeweled headpiece; as if in response, a beam of sunlight glinted off of the necklace that bounced against T'unu-kan's broad chest.

Uaxac watched breathlessly. The great god took another step. His enormous foot swept through the air and descended, crashing down hard onto one of the many houses that lay between him and the temple. For a split second Uaxac saw a pair of figures crouched in the doorway and peering out in bewilderment, just before the god's clawed toes settled upon them.

The sight sent a terrible jolt through Uaxac. "What is happening?" he said out loud. "T'unu-kan, be careful!"

The house and everything in it was pressed flat beneath the god's foot. Without even a downward glance T'unu-kan took another step, his leg rushing forward through the air. The top of his toes swept against a pair of houses and smashed them to pieces, sending bits of stone and wood hurtling in all directions. Uaxac's mouth fell open at the sight. "T'unu-kan!" he shouted. "Why are you doing this?"

The god did not pause for even an instant. His foot came down on another house, and it too was smashed to bits beneath his sole. Uaxac raised his eyes pleadingly to the god's face, and was dismayed to see the great brown eyes fixed somewhere off on the distant horizon. One of the colorful forest birds swept in front of the god's nose, and T'unu-kan slowly turned his head, following the bird with an interested gaze. While watching the bird he took another step, and Uaxac realized what was happening. The god was so enormous that he did not even notice what was below him. His eyes were thoughtful and curious. They held no malice, no hint of awareness of the houses or the people he was crushing beneath his feet...

...or of the priests who had gathered directly in the giant's path.

"Oh, no..." Uaxac croaked, his eyes growing wide. "T'unu-kan, please look down. Please!"

His plea went unanswered, though. Uaxac watched helplessly as the god's mighty foot swung forward, its shadow surrounding the priests, whose heads were bowed reverently, unaware that the god had not seen them.

"T'unu-kan!" he wailed in desperation. "Look down!"

Things seemed to happen very slowly then. There was no sound, the silence unearthly. The god's foot descended. His heel landed noiselessly in front of the priests and sank down into the earth, pushing up a rim of soil around it. The muscles of his gigantic leg shook with the impact, the sun's rays breaking into dancing rainbows over the dark fur. The massive foot seemed to pause, hanging motionless in the air. The priests slowly raised their heads and stared for a long time at the vast black sole that loomed over them. Even more slowly they began to raise their arms over their heads.

Then all at once the immense foot slammed down with a jarring crash that shattered the silence. The priests instantly disappeared beneath it. The ground rippled, sending the acolytes sprawling helplessly. T'unu-kan moved forward, and as his ankle flexed a terrible redness bubbled up around his toes. His foot rose again, leaving what was left of the priests stamped deep into the earth behind him.

Adding to the horror of the priest's demise was Uaxac's sudden realization that the god was heading straight for him. The courtyard had seemed so far away, but with just one more stride the god's foot crashed to the ground right at the base of the hill. Uaxac stood frozen with fear as the other leg rose skyward. The great foot rushed past his head, and for an instant Uaxac could see red smears upon its underside. The foot continued forward, sailing through the air and coming down hard on the opposite side of the hill; the other followed it a second later, the wind whistling past the clawed toes as they swept into the distance. Uaxac was left staring at T'unu-kan's back, and at the enormous tail weaving like a giant, furred anaconda through the air behind the god's rump. The shaking subsided as the god wandered off, pausing in the distance to examine a curious outcropping of rock that capped a nearby hilltop. He never once looked back, nor did he even bother to scrape the pitiful remains from the bottom of his foot.

Thin cries of despair reached Uaxac's ears. He turned to see people stumbling from their homes into the streets. Some had gathered around the flattened houses and were gawking at them in confusion. Others were clustered around the huge footprint in the courtyard, and what was left of those who had fallen beneath the god's tread. The surviving acolytes were gibbering and gesturing wildly in the direction that T'unu-kan had gone.

Uaxac felt sick. He had never before seen men die so horribly, stepped on like meager insects, and the wailing of those who were clawing through the rubble in search of their friends wrenched at his heart. He wanted more than anything to run away from the horrific sight, but before he knew it he found himself running down the hill toward the courtyard. He did not even know why. Something deep inside told him that he needed to talk to the people and make them understand what a terrible mistake the god had made. T'unu-kan meant no harm; he had simply been careless. Uaxac forced his legs to go faster, hoping to reach the courtyard before the acolytes began to say things that would frighten the people.

It was too late, though. Already the youngsters had recovered their wits and were pointing angrily at the huge footprint. "It is no god!" one was yelling. "It is a monster sent to destroy us all. The gods are angry with us and we are being punished!"

"No!"

Everyone fell silent and turned to stare at the fisherman who had stumbled into the courtyard. "He did not mean it," Uaxac panted. "I watched what happened. He did not know that we were trying to welcome him. There must have been something wrong with the ceremony."

"Be quiet!" the oldest one barked. "What do you know?"

"I know what I saw! The gods are not angry with us, and T'unu-kan is not a monster. He is young and lost, and he is just so big that he never noticed us. All he wanted to do was go to the mountains; we were just in his way. If the priests had known how to speak to him they would have..."

"Heresy!" All of the surviving acolytes had gathered together now and were glowering furiously at Uaxac. "How dare you preach to us what the gods are thinking?"

Uaxac bit his lip and tried to think of an answer, and then his shoulders slumped and his arms fell weakly to his sides. "I don't understand it," he whispered. "I just know somehow."

The oldest boy snorted and waved his hand dismissingly. Turning to the stunned and frightened people who had gathered around, he threw out his chest and called out in what he must have thought was a very authoritative voice, "We must mourn our fallen Fathers later. Right now, we must learn what it is that we have done to have offended the gods and earned from them this terrible curse."

"It is not a curse!" Uaxac cried. "T'unu-kan means us no harm!"

Someone suddenly stepped forward and pushed him roughly. It was the young acolyte that had scolded him when he went to the temple that morning. "Do not listen to him," the boy snarled. "He is crazy. Take him away from here before his stink offends the gods any further."

"But..." That was as much protest as he was allowed before two burly men seized him by the arms. They were not gentle as they dragged him from the courtyard. Uaxac tried to plead with them, but one of them struck him cruelly in the cheek with his fist.

"Shut up!" the man growled. "The last thing we need now is crazy fishermen making noise when we are trying to think of what to do."

Uaxac opened his mouth but the man raised his hand threateningly, and Uaxac quickly closed it again. He hung his head and stayed silent while he was escorted to edge of the city, to the bottom of the same hill from which he had watched the god's unwitting rampage. Sneering, they threw him into the deep footprint that T'unu-kan had left there. "There," they said scornfully. "Now you can commune with your god."

They turned and strode away quickly, leaving poor Uaxac alone. Back in the courtyard the young acolytes were barking stern orders to men twice their age and wisdom. The oldest one had even taken one of the blood-soaked robes from the print and placed it around his shoulders. If only I could make them understand, Uaxac said sadly to himself. He knew that it was no use, though, and he knew also that if he were to try to return to the city the young men would probably order him to be killed.

With a heavy heart he climbed from the footprint and trudged up the hill to its crest. There he peered into the distance. T'unu-kan was nowhere in site, hidden no doubt behind the distant mountains, but he had left behind a trail of broken trees pressed down flat beneath his tread. Uaxac followed the trail with his eyes until it vanished into the distant haze. He felt a stirring in his spirit. "If they will not worship you," he said aloud, "then at least this humble fisherman will." Sharing his shoulders, he took a deep breath and marched determinedly down the other side of the hill, following the great trail of footprints toward the horizon.

Gods move much faster than men do, however, as Uaxac soon discovered. He had imagined that the giant's trail would be easy to follow, but even though there was no rainforest in those days, the woods were still thick enough to make his progress agonizingly slow. For the rest of the afternoon he beat a path from one big footprint to the next, fighting through thickets and pushing his way through stubborn branches. Sometimes the vegetation was so thick that he could not see where the next print lay, but the fallen trees themselves told him which way to go; snapped off at their bases, they had been pressed to the ground all at once by the god's footfalls and lay in orderly rows that pointed the direction that T'unu-kan had taken. Every time Uaxac stumbled into one of these newly stamped clearings he would drop to his knees and feel for warmth in the packed soil. Every time, though, he was disappointed. Each footprint seemed to be even colder than the last.

Time passed. The sun was setting now, and Uaxac was beginning to despair. The trees and the underbrush were growing thicker still, and before long he had lost his way. He tried to retrace his steps back to the last footprint he had crossed but he could not find it. The sun was hidden behind the leaves now, robbing him of all sense of direction. He tried not to panic, but the woods were growing darker.

At last, with the light nearly gone, he caught sight of some fallen trees in the distance and stumbled toward them. To his relief he found another footprint, the trees all fallen in the same direction, pushed down from by a tremendous force from above. Five deep, round pits showed where the great toes had pressed into the soil. It was not much, but at least it was a more secure place than the depths of the woods to spend the night. Exhausted, Uaxac sat down on one of the fallen trees and buried his head in his hands. "What am I doing?" he moaned. "The god is miles away. How foolish to believe that I could have caught up with him."

The sunlight was almost gone now. Uaxac heard something rustling in the underbrush and began to feel very afraid. He was alone in the woods and vulnerable, far from friends or shelter and very close to jaguars and other hungry beasts. Worried, he began to hunt about for whatever fuel he could find for a fire. Fortunately for Uaxac, T'unu-kan's earth-shaking footsteps had shaken enough dead branches loose that Uaxac was able to gather enough for a fire before darkness fell completely.

With the last of the sunlight fading, he managed to gather enough wood to start a fire in one of the pits made by the god's toes; as the flames crackled to life, Uaxac used their glow to search for more fuel, until he had a comfortably large bonfire burning that was certain to frighten away the most fearsome predator. Feeling a little safer now, he huddled by the fire and peered glumly into the surrounding blackness. The terrible events that he had witnessed earlier that day played over in his mind, and particularly the priest's horrible death. "If only they had listened to me and prepared a proper welcome," he said bitterly. Then again, what had gone wrong with their ceremony? If anyone, the priests should have known what to do. Their magic had always worked before. The rains always came and made the crops grow; the fish had schooled when they were supposed to. Obviously the priests knew what they were doing and had kept the gods happy. Why had their magic failed to terribly this time?

The ground shook suddenly. Uaxac gasped in alarm and jumped to his feet. He stood very still, cocking his head to listen. He thought that perhaps his imagination was playing tricks on him, but then the earth rocked again beneath his feet. His alarm turned to elation. "It is him!" he said excitedly as peered into the ebon darkness of the nighttime sky. There was no moon, and with the fire casting its glare in his eyes he could not even see the stars. Uaxac clambered out of the pit to get a better view, backing into the center of the clearing and peering intently into the night. The ground shook again, even harder. He knew that the god was coming -- but from which direction? The rumbling boom that accompanied each quake echoed on all sides of him. As much as he strained his eyes, he could see nothing overhead but the black dome of the sky and the countless stars glittering against it.

But then he noticed something odd. The stars had vanished from the sky, as though the surrounding darkness had swallowed up their light. For the briefest instant Uaxac had the impression of something large rushing downward, as though the starless sky had collapsed and was falling to the earth. Immediately there was a tremendous crash, just inches away from him. The fire was immediately snuffed out. The ground beneath Uaxac's feet gave a mighty heave; at the same time a gust of wind caught him and knocked him backwards. He fell against the stump of a tree and threw his arms around it, holding on tightly as another crash rocked the earth, and then another, and another and another, each one making the stump and lurch and buck in his embrace.

All at once everything was quiet. The jarring impacts ceased and the earth settled down. Panting, Uaxac slowly relaxed his grip on the stump and rose to his feet. Without the fire he could see nothing. It made him feel exposed and helpless. Reaching a hand blindly outward he groped in the darkness and then took an uncertain step forward. "T'unu- kan?" he stammered.

There was no answer. Uaxac closed his eyes tightly and opened them again after a few seconds, but still there was nothing, not even a sliver of light. Even the stars overhead were no longer visible. The air was heavy with a strange scent, not unpleasant, all heavy and musky like an animal hide. Uaxac's ears were filled with the sound of storm winds rushing through the trees, but despite the noise not a breeze stirred near him.

Bewildered and frightened, Uaxac stretched both arms out ahead of him and began to pick his way blindly across the clearing, feeling his way among the flattened trees with his feet. Never before had he felt so lost or so vulnerable. "T'unu-kan?" he whispered. "Are you here?"

Still there was no answer; there was only the unnerving roar of the wind that somehow blew nearby while the air around him did not stir. Uaxac stumbled on a branch that protruded from one of the fallen trees and fell to all fours with a startled yelp. He was desperate for someplace to hide and began to crawl forward, whimpering in terror.

Abruptly his nose bumped up against something hard. Startled, he jerked his head back and reached forward with both hands. They fell upon a firm, smooth surface, much like polished stone. Uaxac was certain that there had been nothing like this in the clearing before. Baffled, he explored with his hands. The object, whatever it was, tapered smoothly downward toward him, drawing to a blunt point that nearly touched the ground between his knees. He leaned further forward, his hands sliding along the featureless surface as it widened. His stretched his arms as far as he could and felt short, thick strands of rope piled upon one another.

"T'unu-kan?"

The hard mass suddenly rose up from the ground, carrying Uaxac with it. He slipped off of its polished face and fell on his back with a grunt. A powerful gust of wind surged past him, and then the ground beneath him seemed to come alive, leaping and rolling and quaking much more violently than before, as though something was struggling beneath the soil to get out. The deafening roar of falling trees and the crack of splintering wood assailed his ears. Uaxac was convinced that the world was coming to an end. As the ground rocked beneath him he tucked himself up in a tight ball and covered his ears. The earth's motion rolled him about helplessly; the sound of crashing timbers rang in his ears no matter how hard he tried to block it out. The air itself shook as though it was being torn apart.

As suddenly as it had begun the shaking ceased. The echoes lingered for a few seconds and then died away, leaving only the sound of the wind blowing through the trees, while still not a single breeze stirred around him. Uaxac sat motionless, afraid to move a muscle lest it somehow entice that ghostly wind stir the earth into frenzy again.

The stars were once again visible. Aided by their gentle glow, Uaxac's eyes began to adjust to the darkness. Nervously he climbed to his feet and peered across at the sea of flattened timbers that lined the floor of the clearing. There was no trace of the mysterious polished stone that he had stumbled upon, just fallen trees and broken stumps. Baffled, he turned in a slow circle, peering deep into the gloom.

There it was. Uaxac let out a sharp cry and staggered backward until he fell over one of the fallen trees. He sat staring for a long time, barely able to breathe. The faint starshine provided just enough light to allow him to see what he had blundered upon in the darkness.

It was a toe. The smooth surface that he had encountered belonged to the great claw that jutted from its center. In the dim light Uaxac could see others like it resting on either side. As his eyes adjusted further, the rest of the god's foot came into view. It lay firmly on a bed of fallen trees. Above it a muscular leg rose into the air like an ebon pillar, visible only as a starless silhouette against the starry sky. Uaxac's eyes followed its outline into the sky, right up to its knee, above which the stares still shown.

Terror and uncertainty gave way to exultation. Grinning, Uaxac began to clamber breathlessly over the smashed and scattered trees. He fell several times, but jumped to his feet right away and kept going. The god's titanic bulk stretched into the distance ahead of him. It seemed to go on forever. He pushed onward, his heart pounding excitedly against his ribs. A hand the size of a house appeared in his path. He scurried around it and scrambled onward, following the arm along its length, stumbling around the bulk of the shoulder, until at last he stood before the face of the god.

T'unu-kan's head was turned to the side, his muzzle slightly parted, the tips of his great fangs gleaming in the starlight. Uaxac now realized that the mysterious wind that could be heard but not felt was actually the roar of the god's lungs. He smiled, closed his eyes and held his arms outstretched, letting the god's sweet breath waft past him. His hair whipped out in a billow behind his head, and then swept forward again as the god inhaled. The simple communion left Uaxac speechless, his heart fluttering joyfully. For a long time he just stood before the god's open mouth and basked in his blessing. Somewhere beneath the rush of air he could hear faint music, a simple melody of four notes repeating over and over, a celestial hymn that was carried in the god's breath itself. Its gentle rhythm relaxed him like a lullaby, leaving him with a deep sense of peace.

After a while, though, Uaxac began to feel uneasy. All of his life he had been taught that the gods looked upon simple people such as himself with distaste. Only priests and their chosen followers were worthy enough to commune with the gods. A lowly fisherman such as himself surely had no place before the mighty T'unu-kan, and for him to bask in the blessings that by all rights were reserved for those holier than himself was an unthinkable presumption. What if the god were to awaken and discover that he had bestowed his blessing upon a common man?

Sobered by the thought, Uaxac stepped back, fell to his knees, and bowed his head low. "Forgive me, Mighty One," he whispered earnestly. "I meant no disrespect. I shall leave you to sleep in peace, and will bring those more worthy of your favor to your presence tomorrow."

There was no reply. The god slept on.

Uaxac rose to his feet and bowed once more, then turned and begin to pick his way as silently as he could across the broken trees that T'unu-kan had knocked down to make his bed. He intended to find a sheltered place a respectful distance away from the god where he could build another fire and spend the night. In the morning he would return to the city and speak with the young acolytes at the temple. They did not impress him, but nonetheless they were learned in the ways of the gods, far more than he was. The boys would surely have realized by now that the death of their teachers had been the will of the gods, but rather a tragic accident.

The ground quivered beneath Uaxac's feet. There was a low creaking, groaning sound, the same sort of noise that trees made when they bent before a storm. Some urgent instinct told Uaxac to duck; just as he did so, the stars vanished again and something heavy thudded down very close to him. He covered his head with his arms and cowered in fear, but there was no further sound, just the steady roar of the god's breathing behind him. Puzzled, Uaxac stood up...

...And immediately bumped his head on something that had not been there a second before. He reached up to see what it was, and found that something wide and warm and leathery was suspended above him. It was the god's hand. Uaxac's breath caught in his throat and choked off his terrified shout. He expected to be squashed flat at any moment, but minutes passed and the hand did not move. The god's breathing continued, slow and deep and steady. As time passed, Uaxac began realize that the god did not intend to kill him. Summoning his courage, he rose to his knees and reached up to explore the textures of the god's palm. It stretched over him like a great tent, its warmth radiating down upon him just as the sun's rays did during the daytime. Its colossal fingers curved down behind him, their tips buried in the soil. There was enough space that he could have crawled between them if he wanted to, but the meaning of the god's gesture was clear.

Stay.

Uaxac relaxed. His shivering ceased, and slowly he settled down on his back. A smile came to his lips as he reached up and rested a hand upon one of the god's fingers. "I understand, Great One," he whispered. "I am yours to command." With those words he fell into a contented sleep, warm and safe beneath the god's mighty hand.

He awoke when the sun was already well on its way into the sky, and was surprised to find that the god's hand was no longer there. Blinking, Uaxac sat up and rubbed his eyes, then looked around. All around him the forest had been devastated, the trees lying flat, some broken, others torn up by the roots and thrown down. Dominating the tortured landscape was the enormous black form of T'unu-kan. He had rolled in his sleep and was lying now on his side, facing away from Uaxac. His back was wide and muscular, his shoulders truly immense, broader it seemed than the Sun Temple was high. Uaxac could see clearly for the first time the god's tail, a gigantic serpent of fur that could easily have surrounded a thousand men. Even in slumber its tip was restless, flicking into the air with a ruffling sound and then settling back to the ground every few seconds. Smiling, Uaxac stood and bowed to the gigantic creature. "Good morning, Great One," he whispered.

T'unu-kan began to stir, a mountain come to life. Even though he knew that the god looked upon him with favor, Uaxac would not help backing away nervously as the huge body slowly rolled onto its back, the fallen trees creaking loudly as the giant's weight shifted upon them. The god's head remained turned away as he settled down again, his breathing returning to its low and steady rumble. When all was still, Uaxac cautiously moved closer. He knew in his heart that he had no business profaning the god's bed with his humble presence, but he could not resist the desire to us to see more of the magnificent deity, to explore every inch of his immensity. After all, had T'unu-kan not commanded him to remain through the night? Obviously he felt that this insignificant man had some use, or he would simply have swatted him like a mosquito. Uaxac decided that it would not be too great a sin to admire the god for a little while before returning to the city.

T'unu-kan's sheer size, however, made it impossible for Uaxac to see more than a small part of him at one time. It frustrated him, and stepping back once more, Uaxac peered over the great black bulk of the god's torso until he located a tall tree that stood on the far side by the god's knee. If he could climb that tree to its top, he might at last be able to look upon T'unu-kan in his full glory.

Uaxac began to pick his way around the god's body. It was easier for him to find his footing through the jumble of broken timbers now that it was daylight, but Uaxac took his time. It was not every day that a fisherman got the chance to see a god up close, and he did not want to waste the privilege. Slowly he wandered down the length of the god's powerful arm, stopping for a moment to study the great furry hand. The claws on the tips of the fingers were not as large as the ones on the toes that Uaxac had so unexpectedly encountered the night before, but they were just as smooth. He toyed with some of the ropy strands of fur for a while, fascinated by their warmth and texture, and then made his way past the god's hip. The muscles of the thigh were truly immense; the fur that covered them, rather than obscuring the details, followed every line and contour and accentuated it. There was a low gap beneath the knee that Uaxac could have crawled under, but he did not feel quite that bold. He continued along the length of the god's calf, past the ankle, and then around the edge of the titanic foot.

Nukokul obeyed, although it took him a few moments to work up the courage to approach the mammoth foot. He sat himself down by another claw and cast worried glances back and forth at Uaxac, and up at the god's towering leg. T'unu-kan did not acknowledge their presence. His tongue had curled from his mouth and was now resting against his upper lip. His hand was moving faster upon his erection. "He does not know we are here!" Nukokul whispered urgently.

"He knows." Uaxac closed his eyes. Calmly he leaned forward and let his cheek rest upon T'unu-kan's claw. The sound of the god's breathing was growing deeper, the low rumble mingling with the hiss of flesh upon flesh as he pleasured himself high overhead.

Suddenly the god's toes curled, the claws digging into the ground. Nukokul let out a startled cry and leaped backward. "Run!" he shrieked. "He'll kill us both!" Before Uaxac could say anything, the terrified man turned and bolted across the courtyard.

At that moment the god's pleasure gave voice to a bellow that shook the mountains in the distance and rattled Uaxac's bones. T'unu-kan's massive body shuddered; his fingers clenched tightly on the black bulk of his penis, which then erupted with the force of a raging river. A thick white stream burst skyward, climbing in a long, gossamer arc that caught the sun's rays and turned them into a brilliant rainbow. Well beyond the courtyard it fell to earth, striking the roof of a storehouse and caving it in with its weight. The god roared again, and Uaxac watched as another stream gushed forth, this one curling back upon itself in a bizarre aerial dance before landing with a loud splash in the distance.

The third stream shot higher into the air than the first two, and as it curved back toward the earth it descended straight toward Nukokul's fleeing form. Uaxac grimaced as he watched the god's seed crash violently down upon Nukokul, battering him to the ground. The remainder of the stream buried him deep in its suffocating embrace. He twitched feebly for a few seconds, and then lay still.

T'unu-kan's breath rushed out all at once and his immense body relaxed. His face was blissful, his eyelids drooping contentedly as he lowered his head and gazed straight down at the little man who was kneeling before his foot. Uaxac peered back, unmoving, unafraid. After a moment the god looked away, then stood and rose up onto his toes, his arms rising in a titanic stretch. Uaxac obediently stepped back as the god's foot rose and then swept rapidly over his head. It fell upon Nukokul's semen-covered body, and left behind only a sad red smear when it lifted again. T'unu-kan strode onward, leaving the city behind as he stepped over the hill and left the valley. From the other side of the ridge Uaxac could hear the sound of smashing trees as the god prepared his bed for the night. Only after those sounds had faded completely did Uaxac leave the courtyard to begin gathering the survivors.

Continue to Chapter 2...