The gods were fighting among themselves.
They chased each other about the earth flinging thunder bolts and giant hail stones and causing huge floods and conflagrations. They split open the earth and pushed each other into molten morasses. They wreaked much havoc.
There were so many gods in those days. There were more gods than ordinary beings. A god took any form - one day a lion the next the color blue or the southeast wind or the sound of falling water. It was hard to recognize them.
Beings could not kill gods but gods could kill each other, so that after eons of battle not many gods were left.
The earth was a shambles. Only one source of clean drinking water remained and the gods claimed it for themselves. Humans were forced to drink from muddy potholes.
One day a young woman put her water pot on her head and walked serenely to the gods' water hole. She filled her pot with clear spring water and as the water bubbled into the container the gods became frozen in the forms they were inhabiting at that moment. They no longer had the power to change their identities.
Now the humans could recognize and know the gods. They rounded them up and contained them on hill tops. Tributes and ceremonies were arranged to keep the gods happy.
The humans were free to go about their business.