At that time there were no people no animals. no trees - nothing. It was all a desolate wasteland with no end, space lay still upon the flatness and the immense sea rested over chaos. There was nothing brought together, nothing moving. What was above bore no relation to that was below. Nothing was seen standing. only the silent stillness of the water could be felt as it seemed to fall into the abyss. In the silence or the darkness lived the gods who were said to be Tepeu, Gucumatz and Hurakan and in whose names are guarded the secrets of creation, existence and death, the earth and its creatures.

    When the gods carne to the place where darkness dwelled, they spoke among themselves, made clear their feelings and agreed on what should be done.

    They thought of how to make light flow, light which would be fed by eternity. Light was then formed within womb of eternal existence. They also studied the original nature of life which abides in the heart or the unknown. The gods were favorably disposed to the existence of creatures who were to be born. Before this certainty, they said:

    It is good to empty out the earth and separate the waters from the low places so that they can be cultivated. The sowing will be fruitful because of dew in the air and the moisture underground. The trees will grow and blossom, give fruit and spread their seeds. Future inhabitants will eat the harvested fruit and in this way have both nature and its food. This is the way it will always be. They will die the day they have it another way.

    And so the formation of the land where the new beings would live was decided upon. Then the clouds filled the space between the sky and earth were set apart. Under these clouds and from the water on the surface, the hills and mountains that we see today began to appear. Forest of cypress, oak, cedar, and mahogany trees were formed in the valleys. The wonderfully rich sap from the trees released a sweet, acid aroma. The path that divided wet space from dry space was opened.

    Upon seeing what had been done, the gods said:
-The first creation has been completed and it is beautiful in our eyes.

    They immediately wanted to finish the work they had begun. Thus they said:

    -It is no good that the trees grow alone surrounded by shadows. They must have guardians and servants.

    And so the gods decided that under the branches and by the rooted trunks in the earth, they would place the beasts and animals who would obey their orders. But the creatures lay inert in their place of birth as if they were blind and unfeeling. Then they wandered with no order or purpose, stumbling into whatever lay in their path. The gods saw this and said:

    -You beast and you animal, will drink from the river; you will sleep in caves, you will walk on your feet with a lowered head and your back will serve to carry burdens. You will not resist or rebel, no matter how tired you are. You, bird, will live in trees and fly through the air; you will reach the region of the clouds, lightly brush the transparency of the sky, and have no fear of falling, You will multiply and your children, and the children of your children, will do the same as you, following your example and grace.

    The beasts, the animals and the birds carried out the orders they had been given: the first sought out their lairs, the second, their pastures, and the birds made their nests in the trees.

    When these creatures were quietly settled in the places that were comfortable and to their liking, the gods came together again and said:

    --Each brute must be submissive in his natural world but none must have to live in silence, for in silence there is desolation, abandonment and death.

    Then in a voice that thundered throughout the confines of space one of the gods called to the creatures and said:

    --Now each according to your kind must speak our names so that you know who created and sustains you. Speak to us and we will come to your aid. This is how it will be.

    But the creatures didn't speak. Not knowing what to do, they remained astounded. They appeared to be mute, as if the voices of understanding had died in their throats. They only knew how to scream, each in a different way, according to their species. Upon seeing this, the gods were saddened and said to each other:

    --This is no good; we must remedy the situation before it is too late.

    After consulting among themselves. the gods immediately spoke again to the beasts, animals and birds in this way:

    --Because you have not known how to speak to us as you have been commanded, you will have different ways of living and eating. You will no longer live together peacefully. Each kind will flee the other, fearful of his hatred and hunger, and look for a place to hide its stupidity and fear. This is how it will be. Know this as well -- because you have not spoken nor shown awareness of who we are, nor even shown signs of any understanding, your flesh shall be torn apart and eaten. You will crush and eat each other with no repugnance. This will be your destiny, for this is how we wish it to be for the sake of justice.

    Upon hearing this, these irrational creatures felt scorned and wished to recover the power they once held. With a ridiculous show of effort, they attempted another way of speaking.

    Again, they proved to be dull-witted, for only screams issued from their throats and snouts. they couldn't even succeed in understanding each other, let alone carry the obligations they had before the gods. So they were left to their fortune among the weeds and filth were they flailed about. There they stayed, resignedly, accepting the sentence that had been dictated to them. Soon they would be pursued, sacrificed, and their flesh torn, cooked and devoured by the people of greater understanding who were about to be born.

  The gods thought of new beings who could speak and gather the food from the land when it was ready. So they said:

    -What should we do so that the new creatures come forth call us by our names and, justly so, understand that they must invoke us as their creators and gods? We re- member that the first beings we created didn't know how to praise our beauty or even show awareness of our great radiance. Let us see if we can finally create beings who will fulfill our expectations.

    After they spoke these words, they began to use wet clay to form the flesh of the new creature they were thinking of. They molded the clay with great care and, little by little, worked on the form without forgetting the slightest detail. Unfortunately, when it was finished, they saw it was no use at all; it was nothing but a heap of black clay with a stiff, straight neck, a wide, crooked, toothless mouth, and blind, discolored, vacant eyes poorly placed at different levels on each side of the face near the temples. These figures couldn't even remain standing because they crumbled and fell apart in the water. however, the new creature had the gift of speech and sounded more harmonious than any music that had ever been heard before under the heavens. The figures spoke but they were not conscious or what they said; they didn't even know the meaning of their own words. Upon seeing this the gods said:

    -In spite of these shortcomings, you will live until better creatures come to take your place. During this time, struggle to multiply and improve your kind.

    And so it was. The gods contemplated with great sad- ness these fragile creatures as they moved away and said:

    -How can we form other creatures who will truly be superior, who will hear, speak and understand what is said to them, who will invoke us, know what we are and what we will be for all time?

    They remained silent in meditation while the tremendous forces of the night came forth. It was then that lightening illuminated the consciousness of a new creation.

    The new creatures were made of wood so that they could walk straight and firm on the face of the earth.

    These statues that had been formed really seemed to be people. They joined and coupled in groups and, in time, procreated. But they showed they had no heart in the way they behaved towards one another. Their feelings were cut off. They couldn't understand that they were put on earth by the will of the gods. They walked through forests and on the open paths of steep mountains slopes; they went along the very edge of the rivers and climbed up to the highest treetops. They were reckless creatures with no awareness of direction or destiny. They were al- ways at the point of falling; when they did fall, they could not get up and perished in the mud. In their doltish state, they were unable to speculate about their origin, the place they found themselves, or the road they followed. They wandered about like useless creatures, more dead than alive. With each day, they continued to be ignorant of the gods and fell into disgrace. They spoke, aware of what they were saying, but their words were without expression or feeling. And as they really had no heart, no agile feet, no strong hands, or even entrails for any use, they were a hindrance. They were too dull-witted to comprehend the existence of the gods, who are fathers and lords of all that breathes and grows. These creatures lived many generations, misled by their rigid and selfish spirits. rate had it that they were no better than the creatures who had been punished before them. When they managed to speak, it could be noted that in the sound of their words there was neither reason nor order. Their swarthy faces, like the color of the earth, remained immobile and stiff; their lazy ways made them appear to be witless and this also condemned them to death. When they least ex- pected it, a rain of ashes fell upon them, ending their ex- istence. The ashes continued to fall violently on their bodies as if hurled with fury by a mighty hand from above. Then the gods made the earth fill again with water that ran everywhere, filling the abysses and ravines, over- flowing and rising over the rocks and hills and the highest mountaintops, and then swirling against the fringes of the clouds. So it was. This flood lasted many moons and destroyed everything. The gods still persisted and created new beings with another natural substance. Of tzite' the flesh of the man was made, and of bulrushes the woman was made. But these figures also didn't fulfill the hopes of their creators. So Xecotcovach the bird appeared, digging its claws into the earth and gouging out the eyes of the creatures with its beak. Then Cotzbalam the cat came and tore through their bodies, slashed their veins, and chewed their bones so that they became nothing more than splinters. Immediately after, other wild fiends, no less cruel, came to reed on the scraps.

    It happened that because of all this, a great dreadful gloom fell on the earth, as if a thick cloak covered with many nights had descended upon creation. In the midst or this desolation, the small creatures, whose souls had been invisible until then, appeared before the survivors who struggled helplessly at the face or death with no hope or salvation. These creatures were enraged and clamored in a loud, haughty manner before those who held on to life:

    -It is only fair that you listen to us. You thought we were empty things and we're tired of so much injustice. You will now suffer terrible punishments. From now on, your flesh will be devoured.

    The grinding stones said:

    -You caused us to waste away-day after day, from dawn to night, you were scraping and grinding us. Grinding, grinding away on our hardened and blackened abdomens. The sound of holi-holi and hugi-hugi was heard all the time as the corn dough was beaten under our arms and on our chests and shoulders. The wet, foul-smelling residues drained away from our feet. This is how you hated us; this is how we suffered. We were resigned and endured all, thinking that you appreciated our sacrifice. But how we were deceived! After all this time, we see that you are worthy of nothing. Now you will feel our strength; this will be our revenge and your ruin.

    And then the dog said:

    -There were so many times that we couldn't taste a morsel, lick a bone, or sip a bit of water because you. We couldn't get a corner of fresh earth where we could sleep. Dying and faint from hunger and thirst, with our tongues hanging out, we were left like useless junk in the rubbish heap by the hut. From afar, we looked at you with eyes that pleaded and showed fear. We lived, huddling and trembling-if our suffering because you can be called living. We always stood in your presence. If we approached you to sniff your hand, you kicked us and cursed at us as you threw us out. Even now, our buttocks still hurt and our backs have sores. We were always treated so callously and harshly in your homes. Oh foolish ones, why couldn't you realize what would finally happen? Sooner or later, the time would come when all this would finish. Now we have risen over you; you are inoffensive and of little worth. We pity your ruined state, but we now have to tear you to pieces and kill you. We will do it without any misgivings or compassion. It is useless for you to try to defend yourselves-no time for lamentations either. Very soon, we are sorry to say, you will feel the strength of our snouts and feet.

    The pots spoke and said:

    -You made us suffer when you burned and blackened our mouths, ears, bellies, and necks. Our flesh cracked with so much heat. Rest meant being left over the hot ash- es or by the embers. Our work was hard and never ending. No matter how much we did, no one took pity on us-even as we sang at night from the dark corners of the kitchen or by the earth in the yard. No one wished us peace or gave us rest and consolation. But this martyrdom has ended. Now we will eat you-but before that, we will torture you by placing your bodies on grills over blazing fires. We'll be deaf to your screams.

    The jugs said:

    -You have caused us a great deal of constant pain. We prefer not to remember it because it infuriates us so much. But now the time has come for our compensation. The future will be hard for you-hailstorms and blizzards will fall on your naked backs.

    When the quasi-human beings heard all these accusations, they were frightened and trembled as they grouped together like ripe ears of corn. In tight formation, one on each side of the other, they ran from they were, as if they were running from a foul-smelling place. Confused and tripping in their haste, they climbed onto the roofs of houses, but the beams and framework collapsed; they climbed trees, but the branches broke; they fled into caves, but the walls crumbled. Those who didn't die under the rubble, crack their bones, or bleed to death, tore each other into bits and pieces in a state of blind fear and anger. The few who didn't suffer breakdowns were transformed into monkeys as a reminder of the simple nature of their hearts. They left and lost themselves in the hills, filling the air with the din they made. It is for this reason that monkeys are the only animals that look like the early primitive humans in the land of the Quiche.