A man who was once a crow paddles along a lake, harvesting fish from magic nets until he discovers a deserted house and follows a path atop the mountain. There he seizes a beautiful berry-picking woman and forces her to accompany him, demanding she dance. She tricks him—shapeshifting into a squirrel to flee to her home—and punishes him by pouring hot ashes through the smoke-hole, blinding him.
Source:
Athapascan Traditions
from the Lower Yukon
by J.W. Chapman
The American Folklore Society
Journal of American Folklore
Vol.16, No.62, pp. 180-185
July-September, 1903
► Themes of the story
Transformation: Both the man-crow and the berry-picking woman undergo physical shape-shifting, highlighting metamorphosis as a core motif.
Trickster: The woman uses wit and deception—transforming into a squirrel—to outsmart and escape her captor.
Revenge and Justice: The woman exacts poetic retribution by scalding the crow-man’s eyes after he oversteps.
► From the same Region or People
Learn more about the Athabaskan people
Once upon a time, when the crow was a man, he was paddling along abreast of a mountain, with his stomach calling for dinner. As he paddled, suddenly he saw a stake set at the edge of the water. He paddled alongside to examine it. There was a fishnet tied to it. Surely enough it was full of fish, and he put them into his canoe. In front of him and at his back they lay. Those in front of him he eats raw, and fills himself. “A-ha-ha,” he thinks, “I am satisfied; thanks,” thinks he, “I am satisfied;” and he took his paddle and went on. All day he paddled. All at once he saw another stake set. Surely enough, there was another net tied. Again he examined it, and was surprised to find it full of fish. Taking these he put them into his canoe, in front of him, and behind him, and part of those in front of him he ate raw. “A-ha-ha,” thinks he; “thanks, I am satisfied.”
► Continue reading…
Then he looked around, and upward as well, and saw a house; a beautiful house. Outside the house were hanging dried whitefish. Then he went into the house and looked around, but saw nobody. Inside the house there were dried whitefish, too, and berries. But see! on this side is somebody’s place; there are beautiful parkas too, and fine mats and workbags. “Where is she?” thought he, and crossed the room again to go out. From over at the door he took a look outside. He looked, and saw a path going up the mountain. He started off, and rushed eagerly upward. He reached the top and looked around. There beside the path were berries in plenty, and baskets with berries in them. He went here and there looking for the owner. All at once there was a beautiful woman picking berries. He went to her and caught her by the shoulder. “Come,” said he,” come along; let’s go to your house,” said he. But she was not willing. “You see I’m picking berries. By and by I will do as you say,” said she; but he held her shoulder fast. “Come along now,” said he. Then she grew angry. “What a brute! You better go down to my house by yourself,” said she. Finally the woman said, angrily, “Very well, live with me down at my house.” She tied up her berries, and they put them on their backs; the woman as well as the crow. “Come now,” said the woman, “take off your load and put it down where you are, and I will dance for you.” Then she sung:
Ikna, ikna, akcaito
Akcai tcugun hugu
Unu yavwugan he
m-m-m.
“Now it is your turn,” said she. “I want to see you. You dance for me, too,” said she. “Yes,” said he. He hopped about, singing:
Tlikin gaqahl, tlik, tlik;
Tlikin gaqahl, tlik, tlik.
“Your song doesn’t suit me,” said she. “Shut your eyes;” and with a “Ctiq” she dived down between his legs, having turned into a squirrel. She reached her house and slammed to the door, while he climbed upon the roof and peered down through the smoke-hole. The woman angrily threw up a ladleful of hot ashes into his eyes, so that they were scalded and turned white.
Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page
Dreamtime Whispers 