Long ago in the Central Highlands, there was a great flood. The water rose and submerged even the highest mountains and hills. Mount Nâm Nung was completely submerged, its peak only the size of a fish basket remaining; Mount N'Jang was submerged to the size of a hand; and Mount Gà Rừng was only the size of a small cauldron. During that time, only those who managed to build rafts and sit on them escaped death. Those living near high mountains and hills were the only ones who survived. The floodwaters rose for seven days and seven nights. At that time, on Mount Gúng Klo (the mountain near the present-day Đắk Song Committee), people saw a giant snail as big as the mountain itself. They saw the giant snail drinking water. The snail gradually sucked the water down until it was all gone. When the water had dried up, the giant snail was no longer visible. People thought the giant snail had been carried up from the sea by the water.
Meanwhile, only a few people survived. Those who managed to build rafts stayed wherever the water receded, no longer knowing where their old villages were. They also stopped searching for their old villages. Villages near high mountains survived more. People rebuilt their houses, cultivated fields, and planted rice and corn. Those without corn or rice seeds ate wild potatoes to survive. Later, they sought out relatives to ask for seeds of rice, corn, melons, pumpkins, beans, and gourds. They built houses and established villages in groups along the stream banks and at the foot of the mountains.
Later generations saw snails living in the village of Bu N'Drung. The village of Bu N'Drung was located on the banks of the Dak N'Drung stream. People cultivated fields, planting rice and corn, which grew well. The rice in the fields was flowering, but at night something ate it. The rice gradually disappeared night after night. At first, people thought it was domestic pigs or wild boars. They searched for pig or deer footprints but found none. They continued to believe it was domestic pigs. The villagers blamed each other among the households that raised pigs (at that time, pigs were raised free-range). The villagers discussed building pigpens, saying that if they continued to let pigs roam freely, the rice in the fields would be gone, and they would starve. They fenced off the village and confined the pigs inside the fence. Not a single pig ventured outside the fence anymore.
The next morning, when they went to check on their fields, they found that almost all the rice had been eaten. They discussed among themselves: "It must have been deer, wild boars, or other wild animals. If it were animals, deer, or boars, why are there no footprints? Let's fence off the entire field." The villagers worked together in a large plot of land. They cut bamboo and reeds to make a strong and tall fence. It took them nearly ten days to build the fence, surrounding the entire field. They fenced all the edges of the field, leaving no way for animals to get through. The next morning, when they checked on their fields, even more rice had been lost. "What's going on? The rice is almost gone!" they thought. "Let's lie in wait and see." Some took spears, others took crossbows, and they went to lie in ambush in the fields. People slept in their own huts, each with someone guarding it. When they woke up the next morning, they saw that even more rice had been lost. They discussed further: "Let's not sleep in the huts anymore." The following night, people ambushed the area near where the rice had been stolen. They set up traps everywhere the rice was eaten. They ambushed in one spot, and the thieves ate in another. They ambushed above, and the thieves ate below. They ambushed on the edge of the field, and the thieves ate in the middle of the field. The villagers had exhausted all options; there was no way to save their crops. "We're not going to ambush them anymore," they thought. "Let's all go home and sleep. We'll just have to accept it if they eat all the rice in the field." Everyone went home to sleep; no one was left guarding the fields anymore.
At midnight, two men were sent to spy on the area. One man carried a spear, the other a crossbow. That night, the moon shone brightly. The two men walked very quietly, making no sound. They went to the edge of the field to observe, but heard no sound at all. They saw something very large in the middle of the field.
They spotted a large, white object, about the size of an elephant's saddle. They moved quietly, making no sound, keeping a distance of about a crossbow bolt's range. The man with the crossbow pondered to himself, half wanting to shoot, half hesitant. If he shot with the small crossbow, the large animal might not be able to kill it. If he shot poorly and it didn't kill it, he feared the animal might bite him. But if he didn't shoot, what would he do? If he let it eat the rice, it would dwindle night by night, and when all the rice was gone, there would be no rice left to eat. He decided he had to try shooting. He drew his crossbow, loaded an arrow, but didn't know where to aim. He hesitated, fearing he wouldn't be able to pierce the animal's body. He aimed the arrow at the swaying rice stalks. He pulled the trigger and fired, seemingly hitting the animal's eye. Hit in the eye, the animal writhed in pain, but made no sound. After shooting, the two men panicked and hurried back to their village.
When they got home, they recounted to their neighbors: "We saw a huge animal eating the rice, an animal as big as a mountain. Looking at the night sky, we only saw a white color, we couldn't see its legs or arms, only the rice stalks shaking. I drew my crossbow, loaded an arrow, and aimed at the shaking rice stalks. I only managed to fire one shot before I saw the animal rolling around; it was as big as a mountain. We were terrified and quickly ran back. That night, some slept, while others kept watch. They were afraid the animal, hurt by the shot, would chase them back to the village. Throughout the night until morning, nothing was seen chasing them back to the village."
When dawn broke, the villagers flocked to the fields to see. Many went, some carrying spears, others crossbows, and still others swords. The villagers moved slowly, cautiously, towards the fields. From the edge of the field, they saw a white creature in the middle. They only saw its white color; they didn't see the creature move. Some guessed it was dead, others guessed it was still alive. No one dared to go closer. "Let's try shooting again. If it's alive, it should move; if it's dead, it should lie still." Someone said, "How could such a large creature die? This crossbow is so small, how could it kill it?" The villagers moved slowly, their steps light, gradually advancing until they were within good crossbow range. They drew their crossbows, loaded arrows, and fired one shot—no movement. They fired two shots, no movement. They fired many arrows, but there was no sign of movement. Yet, each arrow flew into the air; not a single one struck the creature, and it didn't move. They continued to advance, slowly, step by step. They approached and hurled spears at it. They threw two or three spears at the large creature, but they didn't pierce it, and it didn't move. They said, "The creature must be dead." They went closer and saw the creature lying still, exactly like a snail. Their guess was correct; it was indeed a snail. Seeing how big the snail was, they didn't dare cut it open to eat. They left the snail to rot in the middle of the field, the snail died in the middle of the field, a field on the mountain.
Since that day, the mountain has been named Con Oc Mountain (Snail Mountain). From the day the mother snail was shot, the nearby villagers stopped clearing land on Con Oc Mountain. They feared the mother snail was still there, and that the baby snails would eat the rice. Also, since the shooting of the snail, the mountainous area has become cold. The locals speculate that the mother snail used to drink a lot of seawater, and when she died, the water seeped into the mountain, releasing moisture that caused the mountainous area to become cold. Therefore, Con Oc Mountain and its surroundings have cold weather year-round. Because of this phenomenon, the people of Dak Song call this area the Cold Mountain.
The story also reflects the struggle of the local people to conquer the mountains, forests, and nature in order to build and develop their community.
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