The Nart Epic: The Atsans, by Shalva Inal-Ipa

The following text presents a reconstructed myth of the Atsans — a remarkable dwarf people who occupy a distinctive place within the Abkhazian branch of the Caucasian Nart epic tradition. Although often overshadowed by the exploits of the Nart heroes, the narrative of the Atsans preserves archaic cosmological motifs, ethical themes, and mythic explanations of natural phenomena that are central to understanding the mythological worldview of the ancient Abkhaz.

This account was compiled by the eminent Abkhaz ethnographer and historian Shalva Inal-Ipa (1916-1995) and published in his foundational work The Abkhazians. Drawing upon oral traditions recorded in various regions of Abkhazia and from different storytellers, Inal-Ipa reconstructed the myth from fragmentary sources. As a result, the narrative preserves multiple variants and internal contradictions — features that reflect the living, oral character of epic tradition rather than textual inconsistency.

The myth of the Atsans moves between ethnographic commentary and epic storytelling, combining scholarly framing with formulaic oral expressions such as “They say” and “It is told.” It recounts the golden age of the first mountain dwellers, their relationship with the Narts, the birth of the hero Tsvitsv, and ultimately the catastrophic destruction of the Atsans, variously explained through divine punishment, fire, flood, or climatic upheaval.

The present English translation has been prepared by AbkhazWorld, with careful attention to preserving both the folkloric cadence and the anthropological value of the original text. It is offered to readers interested in Caucasian mythology, oral epic traditions, and the cultural heritage of Abkhazia.

The Atsans. The Composition of the Myth

They say there was a time when the entire coast of Abkhazia lay beneath the sea. It is told that even today, on certain lofty peaks, fragments and remains of ancient ships may still be found, reminders of the maritime element that once raged among the mountains of the Caucasus. Thus, in the beginning, human beings could dwell only in the highlands, beyond the reach of the waves, and only gradually, as the waters receded, did they begin to settle the river valleys and the coastal plain.

Who knows how long this endured? Thus people appeared upon our land.

And it is told that the very first settlers of mountainous Abkhazia were astonishingly small human beings, the tiny “Atsans.” In ancient times they occupied all our mountains. This was before the coming of the present population.

The Atsans were human, yet of a special kind. They say they were as numerous as ants are today. And there was not enough land for them. It was still a wild people. They walked upon the sun-warmed earth without clothing.

In their physical form the Atsans constituted a dwarf tribe. They were extraordinarily small people who dwelt permanently in the mountains. Being of such slight stature, they could easily climb to the very top of a fern and prune its branches there. Or perhaps those were giant ferns? The Atsans were scarcely visible when moving across the ground. For this reason they could approach deer unnoticed and calmly milk them.

Despite their size, the Atsans were sturdy folk, broad-chested and strong-shouldered. They were remarkable for their great physical strength, as well as for courage and boldness. Each of them, when hunting, could shoulder and carry back to camp any animal he had slain, a mountain tur, a chamois, a bison, and the like. At the same time, they were unrivalled runners. One of the mountains of Abkhazia still bears the name Achagylara. The origin of this name is connected with the Atsans. It is said that one of them, pursuing a swift bison — or forest bull — or deer, overtook it in that place and seized it by the tail.

Being primitive people, children of nature, the Atsans knew neither clothing nor fire. They fed chiefly upon the milk of their herds and raw meat. They drank water from streams flowing out of underground springs.

As has been said, the Atsans lived in times long, long ago. And in those days a special prosperity reigned upon the earth. People did not fall ill, for there were no diseases and no foul weather. Even in the mountains there was neither cold nor wind, nor downpours, nor snow, nor hail. Man did not yet know what winter was. An endless warm summer prevailed. They knew neither death nor birth.

It is told that upon the high mountain Arstli-Irshta, south of Mount Marykhu in the upper Kodor, there once dwelt the clan of Arstaa. The wife of one of its members once caught a roe deer in the snow, which was strange.

“It will now be difficult to live here,” said Arstaa, and left his dwelling place. According to the storytellers, until that moment snow had evidently not existed there.

In that blessed age there was no distinction between day and night. The sun shone eternally in a cloudless sky, and the Atsans did not feel cold even at heights which today are habitable only in summer.

With their cattle they lived chiefly in the open air, in reed huts or in small stone dwellings. Nothing disturbed them. They acknowledged no authority above themselves save that of the clan elder, the “Great Father of the Atsans.”

Such was the age of the Atsans, the golden age of the first Caucasian mountaineers. They cultivated grain (without weeding), and it is said that mankind received this cultivation from them. Yet chiefly they were hunters and herdsmen. They bred small livestock, especially goats, also inherited by humans from the Atsans. They bred a special race of gigantic long-bearded goats. Their herds were kept in stone enclosures called atsanguaras, “enclosures of the Atsans.”

Among the Atsans all was held in common: labour, life, and all else. If there was hunting to be done, all went together; if herding, they herded together; if work, then work in common. An Atsan settlement (atsuta) comprised one hundred households, all facing the same direction, each house “looked” to the south-east.

But one morning they awoke to find a strange change: all the dwellings had turned towards the north-west. This they perceived as an ominous sign.

The Atsans and the Narts

According to some traditions, the Atsans preceded the famous Narts; according to others, they were their contemporaries. The Narts and the Atsans dwelt on adjacent territories, though not exactly side by side. They lived in peaceful relations. They often hunted in the same places and, according to the mountaineer’s custom, shared the quarry.

One of the greatest heroes of the Nart epic, Sasrykva [Soskuro], was married to the only sister of ten (or one hundred) Atsan brothers. From this marriage was born an even more celebrated hero — Tsvitsv — who surpassed nearly all the Narts in bravery, strength, ingenuity, modesty, and nobility.

They say that once an Atsan slew a mighty forest bull in the inaccessible mountains. Sasrykva happened upon him. By custom, the hunter offered a share.

“Take your portion,” said the Atsan.

“No,” replied Sasrykva cunningly. “You take as much as you can carry; I shall have what remains.”

He thought the little man could lift very little. But the Atsan bound the bison, hoisted it upon his shoulders, and departed, leaving Sasrykva with nothing.

Another version tells of the Nart Kun (also called Khabadzha), who met an Atsan skinning a tur. The same test of strength followed. The Atsan wrapped all the meat in the hide and bore it away as lightly as though it were a hare.

Kun followed him to the stone house of the Atsans, both dwelling and fortress. There lived their sister, Zylkha, who wove upon a loom so vigorously that the house trembled.

Kun loved her and asked for her hand. The Atsans hesitated, fearing she might be mocked for being the daughter of small people. Zylkha agreed on one condition: if ever he reproached her for her origin, she would leave him at once.

They were married in a great feast. But one day, in haste, Kun discovered his leggings torn and cried out in irritation: “Such is the fate of the son-in-law of miserable little Atsans!”

Zylkha heard him. Without hesitation she cut open her own belly, took out their child, cast it to him and said: “This is all that was between us!” and departed.

The child burned with heat like fire and could not be nursed. Zylkha sent word: “Feed him not milk but molten iron.” The boy drank iron as though it were milk and grew swiftly.

Yet he seemed idle, sitting by the hearth carving sticks. They called him Tsvitsv, “Wood-Shavings.” But by night he performed secret feats, rescuing Narts, conquering giants, capturing herds, and remaining unknown.

When the Narts divided their wealth, Tsvitsv asked for his share. Sasrykva mocked him. They set kettles filled with water and agreed: whose glory caused his kettle to boil would be deemed greater. Sasrykva spoke first; his kettle nearly boiled. When Tsvitsv spoke, steam rose in clouds — and when he recounted branding Sasrykva’s back in battle, the water boiled over.

Sasrykva embraced him.

Many tales are told of Tsvitsv, the Half-Black, Half-Grey hero, son of the sister of the Atsans.

+ The Ispy in the Nart Epic Tradition, by Asfar Kuek

+ Abkhazian Cult of Thunder and Lightning and its North Caucasian Parallels, by Viacheslav Chirikba

+ Characteristics of the ‘Shepherd’ Image in the Abkhaz Nart Sagas, by Vladislav Ardzinba

+ The Adyghe (Circassian) Nart Epic: The People’s Age-Old Memory, by Asker Khadagatl

+ Aetiological Remarks And Legends In The Context Of Abkhazian Nart Epic

+ Dolmens and Cromlechs in the Western Caucasus: An Overview

The Pride and Fall of the Atsans

Though akin to the Narts in life and custom, the Atsans were proud and freedom-loving. They would brook no condescension. They acknowledged no one but the Narts — not even the heavenly beings.

They knew of a mighty god above. They even raised his sister’s son — his nephew — as their foster child. He grew swiftly and returned to heaven.

Whether for this reason or another, pride entered their hearts. They said:

“Who is God? Above is the sky, and below are we.”

They defiled springs, mocked the heavens, desecrated milk, imitated thunder in jest. Their arrogance knew no bounds.

God resolved to destroy them. He sent his nephew to ask how they might be overcome. The Atsans replied:

“Only one thing can destroy us: if dry cotton like deep snow covers the earth, and a spark of fire ignites it, then we shall perish.”

Soon a wind arose. Black clouds gathered. Cotton-like snow fell deep upon the land. Lightning struck. The cotton blazed. All was consumed.

Those who leapt into rivers survived, but became frogs. Those who hid in caves became demons and serpents.

Another version tells of a ladder built of stones and trees, by which they attempted to reach heaven, but failed. Or that they perished in a great flood, as fragments of ships atop the peaks of Akhal-ibakhu and Gybzhi attest. Or that sudden cold and heavy snow destroyed their herds and thus their life.

Thus passed from the face of the earth the mythical people of the Atsans. Only ruins of their stone structures remain. The half-burnt stones of the mountains, it is said, bear witness to the great fire sent by God.

The Narts too were destined to depart. Only Tsvitsv carried Atsan blood in his veins.

After the destruction of Atsans and Narts, God peopled the earth with us. From whom else could we descend?

It is also said that the Atsans, in the other world, daily attempt to drill through the earth to return to the light. But what they bore through by day collapses by night. Thus it shall remain. God punished their pride forever.