Raven and his eye

Raven removes one of his eyes and places it atop his canoe to serve as a lookout while he gathers materials in the woods. Hearing his eye call out, he returns to find it missing. Unable to locate it, he returns to the forest.

Source:
Ten’a Texts and Tales
(from Anvik, Alaska)
by John W. Chapman
The American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume 6 (ed. Franz Boas)
E.J. Brill, Leyden, 1914

► Themes of the story

Trickster: The Raven is often portrayed as a cunning figure in various mythologies, using wit to navigate situations.

Sacred Objects: The Raven’s eye can be considered a sacred object, imbued with special significance and power.

Conflict with Nature: The Raven’s journey into the woods and his interactions with the natural environment highlight a relationship with nature.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Koyukon Lore

Learn more about Koyukon people

A Raven was paddling along in his canoe at the edge of the river, and he thought to himself, “I must get some fish-trap sticks!” So he went to the shore, and got out on the beach. Then he took out one of his eyes and put it on top of his canoe, and said to it, “If you see any one coming, you must call me, and I will come to you.” Then he went up into the woods to find some fish-trap sticks, and began to cut them, when he heard his eye calling him. He ran out of the woods; and when he came to the place where he had left his eye, it was gone. He could not find it anywhere, so he ran back to the woods.

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How Raven got a good meal

Raven, feeling hungry during his travels, catches a large fish and smears its scales on his parka to appear as an expert fisherman. He convinces a village to follow him to his bountiful fishing spot but feigns forgetting his knife, sending them ahead. While they’re gone, he returns to the village and consumes all their provisions. Upon discovering the deception, the villagers attempt to shoot Raven but fail. A poor boy, with a bow made by his grandmother, successfully kills Raven; however, the villagers ultimately perish from starvation.

Source:
Ten’a Texts and Tales
(from Anvik, Alaska)
by John W. Chapman
The American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume 6 (ed. Franz Boas)
E.J. Brill, Leyden, 1914

► Themes of the story

Trickster: Raven embodies the archetype of the cunning figure who uses deception to achieve his goals.

Conflict with Nature: Raven’s manipulation of natural resources and the villagers’ subsequent struggle for survival underscore a tension between humans (or animals) and the natural world.

Community and Isolation: The tale explores the dynamics between the individual (Raven) and the community (villagers), illustrating how deceit can lead to communal suffering and isolation.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Koyukon Lore

Learn more about Koyukon people

Told by Stephen Morton

Raven was travelling on a long journey, and he became very hungry. After a while he saw a big fish under the ice, and he made a fire and caught the fish. He put the scales aside; and after he had finished eating, he smeared them all over his parka, to make it look as though he had been doing nothing but catch fish. He went on, and after a long time he came to a big village. He went up into the kashime, and found it full of men. The old men were telling the younger ones to make the fire for the daily bath. So they made the fire; and after the bath, they asked the Raven for the news. He told them how his house stood alone, and how good the fishing was; and when they looked at his parka, they thought that he was telling them the truth. “Come,” said he, “everybody shall go with me tomorrow, and I will give you all the fish that you can carry away.”

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So the next morning they all started out together; but when they had gone some distance, the Raven said, “Sakes alive! I have left my knife in the village!” So the men said to him that he had better go back and get it.

“All right,” said he, “but you go ahead; and if you get to my house before I catch up with you, go into my cache, and help yourselves to the best fish that there are there.” So he left them; and when they were out of sight, he flew back to the village, and went into the caches and ate up all the fish and meat that were there. Then he went into the houses and ate up all the parkas and bed-clothing, and everything else that he found. When the people found that they had been fooled, they came back, and found everything gone. The Raven was flying over the village, and the young men tried to shoot him with their arrows, but no one was able to hit him. There was a poor boy, however, who told his grandmother that he would like to try. So his grandmother made him a little bow and arrow, and he killed the Raven; but all the people in the village died of hunger.

How Raven enticed a man away from his home

Raven, lacking food, discovers fat floating in a river and traces it to a man’s home. After befriending the man and his wife, Raven convinces the man to journey to his village, promising abundant skins. Mid-journey, Raven deceives the man into retrieving a forgotten knife, then flies back to the man’s home to feast. The man, realizing the betrayal, returns home exhausted to find his family in destitution, leading him to kill both his wife and Raven in despair.

Source:
Ten’a Texts and Tales
(from Anvik, Alaska)
by John W. Chapman
The American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume 6 (ed. Franz Boas)
E.J. Brill, Leyden, 1914

► Themes of the story

Trickster: Raven embodies the trickster archetype, using cunning to deceive the man.

Good vs. Evil: The story portrays the struggle between the man’s innocence and Raven’s malevolence.

Moral Lessons: The tale imparts a lesson about the dangers of trusting deceptive individuals.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Koyukon Lore

Learn more about Koyukon people

The Raven was paddling along. He had no food, and was not expecting to see anybody. So all summer long he kept on his way up the river. Now he paddled through some bubbles, but he did not look at them or think anything about them. But as he paddled along, he saw a large one between himself and the shore; and as he was passing it, he looked at it. He examined it, and it was fat. So he took it and smelled of it, and began to think about it. “What can this be?” thought he. “Suppose I eat it!” So he ate some of it. It seemed sweet to him. He smeared his parka with the rest of it, and his canoe also, and went on. By and by he saw a house up on the bank. Below the place, deer-bones had been thrown over the bank. Below the bones there was a great quantity of fat.

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“This is where it came from, then,” thought he. He got out at the place. There he saw only one house, but a great many caches. There were also many deer-bones lying outside the house. So he went in. There was a woman there, alone. She stared at him. Then she said, “I didn’t suppose there was anybody else around here;” and the Raven said, “I, too, thought that there might be no one here.” Then she offered him meat; but the Raven said, “I don’t care for meat, I get tired of it: fish is the only thing that I care for.” She gave him some fish, and he ate it. Soon her husband returned. “Cousin,” said he, “I didn’t suppose there was any one in this neighborhood.” “Neither did I think that there was any one here,” said the Raven. Then said the man, “Won’t you stop with us?” — “No,” said the Raven, “for I have a wife, and children too. Come with me to my village tomorrow,” said he. “I believe that there are more skins at my village than there are at your village,” said he. “Part of them shall be yours.” The man did not care to go, but the Raven urged him. “Come,” said he, “come, hurry up! Come along with me!” So at length they started out. As the man was going along in the lead, the Raven pulled out his knife and thrust it into the ground. So they kept on, going back from the river. As they were going along in the back country, the Raven cried out, “I have forgotten my knife!” And he said to the man, “Cousin, go and get it for me. I will give you a marten and an otter and a beaver for your trouble, if you will.” “No,” said he, “get it yourself!” — “All right,” said he, “I will go and get it, and you keep on till you get to my village; and when you get there, have a good feed.” So the Raven went back; and when he was out of sight, he took to his wings. “K’gak!” said he. Then he flew to the village and gorged himself with everything that was in sight.

The man went on for four days. As he went along in the day-time, he saw nothing whatever, and he was hungry. Then he thought, “I wonder if it is true! I believe that Raven was lying.” Meanwhile his strength was gone, and he wanted water, so he went back. A great many days he crept along, exhausted. Finally he dragged himself to a spot above his house, and lay down and slept. He awoke, and looked at the place. There was nothing, — no food or meat. He went to the door of his house. Some one was crying inside. He went in. His wife had on an old, ragged parka, and there were two children with her. “So, then!” said he. “So, then, did you have any children while I lived with you? The Raven is to blame for this!” And he killed her and the Raven too. Then he went out. “Better that I should go somewhere,” he thought. “Soon I shall be dead and gone,” said he. So he went into the mountains. He had no food, and saw no deer. At length his strength gave out. Then he crawled to the side of a river and went to sleep. He awoke and listened. Below him some one was coming, and he called out. Whoever it was, was eating. “What’s making that noise?” said they. “It sounds like a hawk. Let’s leave some food for it!” So they put out some food, and went on, up the river. Again the man went to sleep. He awoke; and near him there was plenty of food, and fat also. He gathered it up thankfully, and ate it, having turned into a hawk.

(Another version) A man and his wife lived together in a house in the woods. The man was a great hunter of deer. He filled his cache with the skins, and he and his wife lived entirely upon the meat. Every year the man would go off hunting, and come back with great loads of meat and skins. Once, after he had returned from hunting, as he was sitting in the house with his wife, they heard some one coming, and brushing the snow off his boots at the door. Presently the mat which hung in the doorway was pushed aside; and in came the Raven, stamping his feet, and congratulating himself upon having reached shelter. The hunter looked up and greeted him. “Well, friend, so you have come?” said he. “Yes,” said the Raven, “and I am glad enough to get to a place to pass the night, for I am all tired out.” The woman gave him a bowl of deer-meat, saying, “This is the only thing we have to eat. Will you have some?” The Raven took it, but he did not seem to relish it very much; and finally he said, “We have so much of this to eat at our village, that I do not care very much about it. Do you have to go far for your deer?”

The hunter told him that in former years the deer used to be plenty, but that lately he had been obliged to go a long way to find them. Upon this, the visitor proposed that he should go with him to his village, where they were so thick that one could get them by going just a short distance from the house. At first the man objected; but finally he consented, and they started out together. When they had gone a long way, and had come into a country that was unknown to the hunter, one day, as they were nearing the place where they were to make camp, the Raven suddenly exclaimed, “There! I left my knife at the last place where we made a fire. I must go back and get it. You go on and make camp, and I will come back and follow your tracks and find you.” So they separated, and the hunter went on; but the Raven had no sooner got out of his sight than he lifted up his face and called for snow. Then there came a great storm, which covered up the trail, and the hunter was left alone in a country that was unknown to him. He waited for the Raven, but he did not return. Then he began to wander around, trying to find some landmark by which he could locate himself; but, although he spent the whole winter in this manner, he only became more confused as to his whereabouts. So he wandered around until the ice began to melt in the spring. Then he came to a stream, which he followed up until it led him to a gorge, heading up towards the mountains. As he went up this gorge, he began to make a song, weeping over his misfortunes, and crying, “The Raven, he is a liar!” As he went along, he found that the backs of his hands were changing, and becoming scaly, and that they were becoming feathered also. Beside this, the tears running down his cheeks made furrows, which took on a stain, and at last he found himself turning into a hawk. Sitting on a crag and wheeling in the air above the stream, he heard the sound of voices, and soon saw a party of men coming in canoes. They passed him, and went on up the river without noticing him. Afterwards he heard the voices of another party. This was led by an old man, who called out to those following him that he saw a hawk, and told them to throw out some scraps of food for it. He also found that they had left food on the rocks as they passed along. When the first party returned from their hunt, they had nothing in their canoes; but when the other party returned, their canoes were loaded down, so that they had to put poles across them to transport the meat.

How Raven stole the old woman’s bear-meat

An old woman lived alone, subsisting on fish and game. After killing a bear, she stored its meat. Raven visited, feigned helpfulness, and borrowed her fishskin parka and boots, which he secretly consumed. While she searched for the missing items, Raven devoured her bear meat and vandalized her home. Upon her return, she discovered his deceit, killed him, and later encountered two women seeking their husband. A confrontation ensued, resulting in the old woman killing them both.

Source:
Ten’a Texts and Tales
(from Anvik, Alaska)
by John W. Chapman
The American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume 6 (ed. Franz Boas)
E.J. Brill, Leyden, 1914

► Themes of the story

Trickster: Raven embodies the trickster archetype, using cunning and deceit to achieve his goals.

Revenge and Justice: After discovering Raven’s deceit, the old woman takes justice into her own hands by killing him.

Loss and Renewal: The old woman experiences loss after Raven’s theft but encounters new challenges and characters, suggesting a cycle of loss and new beginnings.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Koyukon Lore

Learn more about Koyukon people

There was an old woman who lived year in and year out in the same place. In the summer she fished with a net, to get her winter supply of fish; and in the winter she lived in an earth house, and worked at snaring rabbits and grouse. One day, as she was making a fire, a bear made his way into the house, and she killed him, and afterward she went to bed; and next morning she got up and skinned the bear, and cut up the body, and filled her cache with the meat, and buried some of it in the ground. Then she went into the house and cooked the bear’s feet for herself. As she finished cooking them, the Raven came in. “Where did you come from?” said she. “From somewhere,” said the Raven.

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So she gave him some of the meat; and he said, “Dear grandmother, I want to get some wood for you.” The old woman agreed; and the Raven said, “But I am too cold. Lend me your fishskin parka and boots.” So she let him take them, and he went off as if he intended to get some wood; but when he was out of sight, he ate the parka and the boots. Then he came back; and the old woman said, “Where are my parka and the boots?” And the Raven said, “Oh, my dear grandmother! I forgot, and left them where I was getting wood.” And the old woman said, “Well, go back and get them!” And the Raven said, “I don’t want to go back for them. Get them yourself, grandmother!” So the old woman started off to get the boots and the parka, but she could not find them; and while she was gone, the Raven flew up, alighted on her cache, and ate all her bear-meat. Then he went down into the house, and turned everything upside-down, and smeared the place with bear’s grease. Pretty soon the old woman came back to the house, and found the Raven playing with the bear’s fat. “Where did you get that bear’s grease?” said she. “Dear grandmother,” said the Raven, “that is what you gave me yesterday evening.” Then the old woman killed the Raven, and hung up his skin in the house; and afterward she cried all the time, because she had no food for the winter. Some time after that, she came in one day, and found two women in her house. “Oh, my!” said she, “where did you come from?” “We have lost our husband,” said they, “and we are looking for him.” “I haven’t found anybody,” said the old woman; but one of the women began to look around, and she saw the Raven’s skin; and they both set upon her to kill her, but she turned out to be the stronger, and killed them both.

(Another version) There was once an old woman. She lived in a little house. One day she heard a great noise at her door. It was a big beast trying to get in. The old woman got her hammer and awl, and she struck the beast and killed it. Then she brought it into the house and cooked it, and there was plenty of meat and fat on it. She put it all into her cache, except the entrails; and she was cooking these, when she heard some one coming. It was the Raven, and the old woman told him to come in. They ate the entrails, and afterward the old woman told the Raven to get some wood for her. She gave him a pair of fish-skin mittens and a fish-skin parka and fish-skin boots. As he was going out, he ate one of the mittens; and while he was in the woods, he ate the other, as well as the boots and the parka. Then he got some wood and came back to the house. The wood was wet, and the old woman threw it all out again -, and at that the Raven came in, and she asked him where all the clothing was that she had lent him. He said that it had been very hot, and that he had left the things on a tree and had forgotten all about them. She told him to go and get them, and he refused. Then she went into the woods to get them herself, and the Raven stole all the fat that she had put into her cache, and fouled the floor of the cache with his excrement. When the old woman came back, he had made a ball of the fat, and was playing with it. The old woman asked him where he got the fat; and he said, “You gave it to me this morning.” She was angry, and said, “I did not give you that this morning.” Then she went to look at her cache, and saw what he had done, and that the fat was gone. This made her angry, and she got her hammer and awl. When she went in, she told the Raven that she was going to cut his hair, but she hid the hammer and awl under her parka; and when she came up as if to cut his hair, she drove the awl into his head with a blow of the hammer, and killed him. Then she pounded him to a pulp with her hammer, and put him into a bowl, and put him into a hole in the ice, and went into her house again. As she sat in her house, she heard a noise at the door. There were three women, and they had three little babies on their backs. They came in, and asked where the Raven was. She said, “I don’t know where he went.” But they did not believe her, and they began to fight with her, and dragged her down to the hole in the ice and fought with her there; but she forced one of them into the water, and then another, and then the other, and then she went back to her house.

How Raven stole the rich man’s daughter

In a village of mud houses, a wealthy man had a beautiful daughter who refused all suitors. One day, while berry-picking with other girls, their canoes mysteriously drifted across the river. A Raven man offered to ferry them back, but after assisting the others, he abducted the rich man’s daughter. She cleverly escaped by tying his rope to a tree and returned home safely. Subsequently, the villagers transformed into animals.

Source:
Ten’a Texts and Tales
(from Anvik, Alaska)
by John W. Chapman
The American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume 6 (ed. Franz Boas)
E.J. Brill, Leyden, 1914

► Themes of the story

Trickster: The Raven man embodies the trickster archetype, using cunning to deceive the village girls and abduct the rich man’s daughter.

Forbidden Love: The Raven man’s desire for the rich man’s daughter, despite social and personal barriers, reflects a pursuit of forbidden love.

Conflict with Authority: The Raven man’s actions challenge societal norms and the authority of the rich man, leading to significant consequences.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Koyukon Lore

Learn more about Koyukon people

There was a big village where the people lived in mud houses; and in the village there lived a rich man who had a big house with a skin tied to a pole on top of the house, because he was a very rich man. He had a wife and one daughter. In the middle of the village there was a big kashime; and every evening the men of the village went into the kashime, and their wives brought them fish and meat and ice-cream; and after they had eaten, their wives took the wooden bowls away and went to their own houses, and the old men and the boys all went to sleep in the kashime. Early in the morning the young boys would go to get wood for the kashime, and afterwards they would have breakfast.

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Sometimes the rich man would hunt for deer, and would kill plenty of deer with his arrows and bow, and would feed all the people. Now, his daughter was a fine girl, and she did not wish to get married to anybody. And all the young boys liked her, and every one got fire-wood for her, and tried to go into her father’s house to visit her; but she did not care for them, and threw all their dry wood over the bank. They all tried for her, but they could not get her. One summer the girls of the village took their canoes and went to get berries, and the rich man’s daughter went with them in her canoe. They all stopped at the foot of a mountain, and left their canoes, and went up on the mountain to get berries. When the Raven man heard that the girls had gone to get berries, he took his canoe and went after them, and found their canoes drawn up on the shore, and took them over to the other side of the river. When the girls came down from the mountain, they found that their canoes were gone; and they said, “Oh, my! our canoes are on the other side of the river: the wind did it.” Then they saw the Raven man paddling past them; and they called to him, and said, “Bring our canoes over to us!” But he said, “No, I will take you across in my canoe.” So the girls said, “Yes;” and he took over first one, and then another. Then the rich man’s daughter said, “Take me over!” but he said, “By and by.” So after he had taken all the others over, he took the rich man’s daughter into his canoe, but he went off down the river with her. And she cried, because she did not like the Raven man. So he went on down the river with her; and she cried all day long, because she did not like him. And he said to her, “Don’t cry! I will not hurt you, I am a good man.” But she said, “I don’t like you: you tell lies all the time.” The next day the girl said, “I want to go into the woods for a little while.” So the Raven man said, “Yes;” and he tied a long rope to her, because he thought she might run away, and he held the end of it while she went into the woods. Then she untied the rope, and tied it to a tree and ran away. The Raven man called to her, but there was no answer; and he pulled upon the rope, but it did not give; and he pulled it hard, and the tree broke off. Then he ran up into the woods, looking for her; but she was on the way home, and got there first. Afterward he went home too; and his grandmother asked him, “Where have you been?” and he said, “I have been in the woods.” But his grandmother said, “I hear that you took the rich man’s daughter off down the river. Don’t do that again, because you are not a rich man, to take that girl for your wife.” And after that, all the people turned into animals.

(Another version) There was a big village where a great many people lived. And they had only one kashime, and in this village there lived a Raven man. There was a girl, too, who did not want to get married. All the young men wanted her, but she did not care for any of them. It came summertime, and all the women went to get berries, and this girl went with them. After they had gone, the Raven got up and put on his little dog-skin parka and boots, and went out of the kashime, and went looking around, and found a canoe laid up. He took it down and looked at it, and found that it was made of fish-skin. He put it in the water and got into it, and found the place where the girls had gone to get berries. He saw their canoes drawn up on the shore, and took them all across the river, and then went off down the river again. In the afternoon he came up again; and by that time the women were coming back, down the mountain. “Oh, my!” said one of them, “our canoes are all on the other side of the river. How shall we get across?” Then they saw the Raven coming up the river in his canoe; and they all called out to him, “Oh, my dear grandfather! please, will you bring our canoes over for us?” But the Raven said, “No, I can’t do that, because it will be too much work. I’ll tell you what I will do. I will take you all over, one at a time.” So they all said, “Yes,” and he took them all over except that beautiful girl. “Come on!” said -he, “and I will take you over, too.” So she got into his canoe; but, instead of taking her across, he went off down the river with her; and she screamed, because she didn’t like him. He went on about twenty days, and one day the girl said that she would like to take a walk on the shore. So the Raven said she might; and he went ashore and took a big dogharness out of his canoe, and tied a long rope to it, and put it on the girl, and told her to go ahead. So she went up the bank, into the brush, and found a big stump, and took off the dog-harness and put it on the stump, and went off a little way. “Come on!” said the Raven-, and the Stump said, “By and by, I am not ready yet.” And after a while the Raven pulled on the rope, and hauled the big Stump out to the bank; and he became angry and went up on the bank, looking through the brush. Pretty soon he came back, and saw the girl sitting in the canoe; and he said, “Come on, come and get me!” But the girl said, “I don’t like you.” And the Raven said, “If you won’t take me, give me my arrows and my bow.” But she broke them in pieces, and threw them into the water, and paddled away home. Then the Raven began to cry, because he had no canoe to go home in; and he made his way home walking on the beach, and reached the village in about twenty days, very ill and sore, and went to his grandmother’s house. “Where have you been?” said his grandmother. “I don’t know,” said he. He was sick one day and one night, and the next morning he died. His grandmother wailed for him, and all the women wailed, too, and that night all the people made songs. But some of them made bad songs, and the Raven made trouble for them. In the morning, when it grew light, the Raven flew away, and afterward all the men and women flew away, too.

How Raven brought light

In a time of perpetual darkness, a beautiful woman refused all suitors. Raven, determined to win her, embarked on a journey through the darkness. He discovered a village bathed in light and identified the woman’s house by a distinctive flag. Transforming into a spruce needle, he entered her home and, through cunning, managed to bring light to his own dark world.

Source:
Ten’a Texts and Tales
(from Anvik, Alaska)
by John W. Chapman
The American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume 6 (ed. Franz Boas)
E.J. Brill, Leyden, 1914

► Themes of the story

Creation: The tale explains the origin of light in the world, a fundamental aspect of creation myths.

Trickster: Raven embodies the trickster archetype, using wit and cunning to achieve his goals.

Quest: The story centers on Raven’s journey to obtain and bring back light, a classic quest narrative.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Koyukon Lore

Learn more about Koyukon people

There was a big village, they say, — a big village where there were many people. There, they say, there lived a certain one who did not wish to get married, a very beautiful woman. Her father, they say, was very wealthy, — he whose daughter it was who did not wish to marry. All the young men of the village tried hard to get her. Some of them brought wood and put it on top of the house (near the smoke-hole). That enemy of Cupid ran out. “What are they getting it for?” says she. She throws it over the bank and goes in again. All the men do the I’ll-try-to-get-I’m-the-one-that-will-try-to-get act, but it is of no use. Some of them set her father’s fishtrap for him, and then they went back and sat down. “Enough of her!” said those village boys. “We just can’t get her,” said they.

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At length they took other women, ugly or not. Men came to see her from other villages, too; but they got nothing but “No.” Some went to get deer. [The local term “deer” has been used throughout for “caribou”] “No,” it was. Then the people of those villages quit her. “Enough!” said they. People from villages everywhere came to see her, north and south, saying, “Let me try!” but “No,” it was. Then they gave it up, too.

Down in the kashime was a Raven man. Now, he began to think, that Raven, there in the dark. All night long he lay awake, thinking. “I think I had better try, too,” thought he. Now, it was dark while they had been doing all these things. So he went out; and he travelled, and he travelled. Dusk or darkness, no sun no moon, only darkness, yet he travelled. When he was tired (of walking), then he would fly, and then again he would change into a man. When his wings hurt him, he would change into a man; and when his legs hurt him, he would fly. By and by it became light with him, as if dawn were approaching, and at length it was as bright as day. Then, as he flew, he saw a village where there were many people (walking around in the) daylight. Then, near the village, he changed himself into a man, and kept on toward the village.

He mingled with the people, but there were so many of them that they were not aware of his presence. Those village people took no notice of him. Now, yonder there was a big kashime, and beside it a large house with a pole raised over it, with a wolverene-skin and a wolf-skin tied to the end, like a flag. Thought the Raven, “Only unmarried women’s houses are like that.” He went up to it. He stood looking, and a great many people came out, busy about their work, and among them a woman. Such a beautiful woman she was, going for water, dressed in a parka made only of marten-skins, with a wolf ruff, of longer fur than usual. “There’s the princess herself,” thought he. He considered how he should act concerning her. Meanwhile the woman left the house to get the water. In the doorway of that house of theirs hung a mat. Out of sight over the bank went the woman. Thereupon he rushed into the doorway and became a spruce-needle, and fell into the interstices of the mat in the shape of a spruce-needle. So there he is, just so. Soon the woman came to the doorway, bringing the water. With her free hand she carried water in a little wooden pail. She was about to push aside the curtain, when the spruce-needle dropped into the pail. She went back to her place in the house, with it floating around in the water. “I will drink some water,” said she; and when she drank, she swallowed the spruce-needle. “Ugh!” said she, “my throat hurts. I swallowed some grass with it.” — “Why didn’t you look inside?” said her mother. “Does it hurt much?” “Why, no,” she said, “it was only a little piece of grass.” The next day at daybreak she called to her mother, so they say. “Ma,” said she, “what’s the matter with me? My belly seems to be big.” “What makes it?” said her mother. “Are you sick?” “Why, no,” said she, “but my belly is big.” The next day she called to her mother again. “Ma,” said she, so they say. “There is something moving in my belly, like a little fish,” said she. “Come here and feel of my belly!” said she. So she felt of her belly. “My daughter!” said she, “what has happened to you? You are just like we are when we are with child” said she in a fright. “If you have not been with anybody, how did you get this way?” said she. “It is only women with husbands that get this way,” said her mother in a fright. “What is going to happen to you?” said she; and when she felt of her belly, the child moved. “That is a child, sure enough,” said she. Soon she began to be in pain. Then her mother said to her, “I’m sure you have not been immodest, yet you are in this condition,” said she. So then that child was born, and it was a boy. It was just like a little raven. They washed him, and dressed him in a fine parka, and he stared with those big eyes of his. He looked all around him, and behind his grandfather hung something that gives light. His grandfather and his grandmother brought him up. They did not sleep, for filling him up with deer-fat. Yes, and his mother’s brothers and sisters took care of him too, that little raven. He crept, and by and by he walked, and then he began to cry incessantly, that child. “What is that bawler saying?” said his grandfather; and his relatives said the same thing. “Perhaps he is in pain,” said they. Sometimes he would stretch out his hand imperiously toward the light. “Maybe he’s saying that he wants that,” said they. “Go ahead and put it by him!” said they. “Just let him see it!” So they took it and gave it to him. He stopped crying right away. By and by he grew bigger, and they gave it to him sometimes, and then put it back again. At length he went out of doors; and whenever he came in, he cried for that thing, and they gave it to him. Even when he was grown up, he would cry for it. “Go ahead and put it on my neck!” said he. “Make a string for it. It will be here at my breast,” said he. Then they put it around his neck. He wore it on his bosom, and went out with it, and ran back into the woods among the bushes. “I hope they will forget me,” thought he. “They never say ‘Where is he?’ about me.” He flew back with that big, shining thing, toward his own village. When he was tired (of walking), he flew; and when his wings were tired, he walked; and at last he came back to his own village.

The man who became a marmot

A lazy young man is abandoned by his community during a marmot-trapping expedition. Struggling alone, he encounters a woman carrying a baby and, after a series of events, marries her. She helps him become a successful trapper but warns him not to harm young marmots. Disobeying her, he kills them, leading to her departure and the loss of all his gains. He then finds himself living among marmots, experiencing their world until spring arrives.

Source:
Tahltan Tales
by James A. Teit
The American Folklore Society
Journal of American Folklore
Vol.32, No.124, pp.198-250
April-June, 1917
Vol.34, No.133, pp.223-253
July-September, 1921
Vol.34, No.134, pp.335-356
October-December, 1921

► Themes of the story

Trickster: The marmot woman deceives the young man by appearing as a human, leading to significant events in the story.

Conflict with Nature: The young man’s actions against the marmots and his subsequent integration into their world highlight a struggle and eventual union with natural forces.

Moral Lessons: The tale imparts teachings about laziness, disobedience, and the consequences of one’s actions.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Tahltan Lore

Learn more about Tahltan people

Once a party of people were trapping marmots at a creek a little south or southwest of the head of Raspberry Creek. Among them was a lad who was very lazy. The people were angry with him because he would not do any work: therefore they made up their minds to desert him. They left the camp and all their traps behind. For several days the lad tried to trap marmots, but he did not catch any, and in a short time he was starving. One day he heard a baby cry; and when he went to look, he saw a woman going along carrying a baby on her back. He ran up behind her and snatched the baby away. He ran with it into the lodge and closed the door. The woman ran after him; and when she could not enter, she went around the lodge crying, and singing:

I want back my baby, young man!
I want to enter your lodge.
Give me back my baby, young man!

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At intervals in the singing she whistled (as marmots do). He did not know that they were marmots, and, taking pity, he invited her into the lodge and married her. She said to him, “There is something wrong with you that you are so lazy. Strip off your clothes, so that I may see.” When he had taken off his clothes, she struck him sharply over the stomach, and at once he vomited lice. She said, “Tomorrow morning you must go trapping. Set all your brothers’ traps. From now on you will have good luck.” Now his traps were full of marmots every day, and soon his lodge was full of meat and skins. She said to him every morning when he went out, “If young marmots come to you and run over your feet, don’t kill them!” One day he thought, “Why does my wife tell me this? I shall kill them, and she will never know.” He struck the young marmots with a stick, and threw them into the bottom of his large game-bag. He put other marmots on top and filled the bag. As soon as he entered the lodge, his wife said to him, “Why did you kill my children? I told you not to kill them. Now I shall leave you.” He tried to hold her; but she slipped through his arms, and went out of the lodge with her baby. All the marmot-meat and all the skins became alive, whistled, and ran out of the lodge. He followed his wife in a dazed state, and at last found himself in a large house. This was the home of the marmots underneath the rocks of the mountains. He staid there all winter, but it seemed to him the same as one night. In April the marmots heard the snow-slides, and said, “That is thunder, and a sign of spring.” They came out of their houses. Soon after this the lad’s brothers came there to trap. They found no sign of their lazy brother, and no traps. They made new traps, but could not catch anything. Two of the brothers were sleeping with their wives. One of them saw a very large black-colored marmot almost as large as a man, and set a special trap for it, but he could not catch it. Then the other brother tried, but with like result. The young marmots always went out first, and, seeing the trap, came in and reported to the big ones. Then the big black marmot went out and sprang the trap. Now the third brother, who slept near his wife under separate cover, accused his elder brothers of having brought upon themselves bad luck by not regarding the winter taboos. He said he would try to catch the big marmot, as he was keeping all the taboos required in marmot-trapping. Now, the young marmot could see no trap because the hunter was keeping the taboos, and told the big marmots that all was safe. The big black marmot then went out without hesitation, and was caught in the trap. The brother brought it to camp, and gave it to the women to skin. They had made a cut down the skin of the belly and along one arm, and were making the cut on the other arm, when the knife struck something hard at the wrist. They looked, and found a copper bracelet there. They called their husbands, who at once recognized it as the bracelet worn by their brother. They said, “He has changed into a marmot.” They ordered the women to camp by themselves out of hearing while they tried to bring it to life again. They wrapped the body in down and new mats, and put it on a scaffold in a tree. They camped four days and nights at the foot of the tree without eating or drinking. On the fourth night they heard a faint sound of singing from the scaffold, and, on uncovering the body, they found that part of their brother’s head had come out of the marmot-skin. They covered him up again, and camped another four nights. Then they heard loud singing from the tree, which sounded like that of a shaman. They uncovered the body, and found that he had come out of the marmot-skin down to the knees. They covered him up again; and before daybreak on the following morning he had recovered his natural form, and was singing like a shaman. He sang:

You will find out what we think in the mountain.

He staid with his brothers, and told them all about the Marmot people,—how they lived, about their customs, and about the trapper’s taboos. He became a shaman, and the marmot was his guardian.

Cannibal-Wolverene and the Fog-Man

A cannibal named Wolverene deceives hunters using a stuffed moose as bait, hiding in a hollow tree to ambush them. A wise man, guided by his fog spirit, uncovers the ruse, retrieves Wolverene’s weapons, and fatally wounds him. He then confronts and kills Wolverene’s wife and daughter, ensuring Wolverene cannot revive. Some versions suggest this led to wolverenes becoming scavengers of corpses.

► Themes of the story

Trickster: Wolverene employs cunning tactics, such as the stuffed moose decoy and hiding within the stump, to deceive and ambush hunters.

Divine Intervention: The wise man’s connection to his fog manitou aids him in uncovering Wolverene’s deception, suggesting the influence of a spiritual guide in mortal affairs.

Revenge and Justice: The wise man’s actions to confront and eliminate Wolverene and his family serve as retribution for the harm Wolverene caused to many hunters, restoring balance and justice to the community.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Tahltan Lore

Learn more about Tahltan people

Wolverene was a cannibal, and killed many men. Near Wolverene’s house, not far from a lake, on an open flat, was a large hollow tree, broken off about half way up, and weather-beaten. Wolverene was in the habit of hiding in the stump and watching for hunters. He used a stuffed moose as a decoy. He set the moose up on the open ground in a natural position; and hunters, seeing it, thought it was a live moose, and came to stalk it. When they came close, he pulled the effigy underground with a string leading to the stump; and then, as the hunter looked around on the open ground for tracks, Wolverene shot him with arrows from the stump. A wise man who had fog for his manitou, made up his mind to investigate, and told the people he was going to hunt in the direction in which so many hunters had disappeared. The man came to the lake, and saw what he thought was a moose across the lake feeding in an open place.

► Continue reading…

He watched a long time, and noticed that, although the moose appeared to be feeding, it was always stationary. This made him suspicious. He looked about, and saw not far from there a high stump. He saw something white bob up from time to time and disappear at the top of the tree. It looked like the head of a bald-headed eagle. Now the man called fog to come. He went around the lake, and, on closer view, thought the moose looked more like a stuffed than a live animal. He made the fog denser, and, approaching close to the moose, saw that it was the stuffed skin of a moose. Now he went to the stump, and saw that it was hollow right through to the top. Inside the base he discovered a bow and many arrows, of which he at once took possession. Wolverene was up at the top of the tree peering through the fog, and had left his bow and arrows at the bottom. The man looking up through the hollow stump could see him. He called up, “Who are you?” Wolverene was very much surprised to hear a man speaking below him, for this was the first time a man had approached without his knowing it. He knew the man must have taken his weapons, and thus rendered him helpless. He called out to the man, “Spare me!” but the man answered, “No, I cannot, you have killed too many people.” He shot several arrows into Wolverene, and mortally wounded him. The man saw a trail leading away from the stump, and followed it. He came to Wolverene’s house, and saw human bones scattered all around. He saw Wolverene’s wife and daughter inside, and Wolverene lying as if dead. The woman said to her husband, “You say you are killed. When I call you, you will come to life.” Wolverene’s wife took hold of the man, and held him tight. As soon as she did this, Wolverene became alive and approached them. The man was stronger than the woman, and threw her off. As soon as he did this. Wolverene fell dead, saying, “I thought you held him firmly; now I am dying again. I did not think you would let him go.” Each time the woman seized the man, her husband revived; and when he threw her off, he expired. The man then killed the woman and her daughter, and cut Wolverene’s body into small pieces, which he threw into the lake so that he could not come to life again. Some informants say that he transformed these people into wolverenes. Because these people were cannibals, wolverenes eat corpses at the present day.

Ta-ka the Mosquito and Khandatagoot the Woodpecker

The gods convened to punish humanity’s selfishness, each assigning a specific affliction. Yaeethl the Raven, initially indifferent, eventually introduced Ta-ka the Mosquito as his chosen torment. Ta-ka befriended Khandatagoot the Woodpecker, exploiting his hospitality. One day, Ta-ka returned from hunting, engorged with blood, and enticed Khandatagoot to seek the same sustenance. This tale explains the origin of mosquitoes and their relentless pursuit of blood.

Source:
In the Time That Was
being legends of the Alaska Klingats
by J. Frederic Thorne (Kitchakahaech)
The Raven – Seattle, 1909

► Themes of the story

Origin of Things: The tale provides an explanation for the existence and behavior of mosquitoes.

Trickster: Yaeethl the Raven embodies the trickster archetype, introducing the mosquito as a cunning form of punishment.

Conflict with Nature: Humans must contend with the mosquito, a natural element that brings discomfort and challenges.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Tlingit Lore

Learn more about Tlingit people

When the selfishness of men had driven the gods from the earth, the Great Ones held a council in Tskekowani, a potlach in the World Beyond. All the gods were there. They talked of the sins of men and of the punishments that should be visited upon them. Long they talked.

Then Theunghow, Chief of Gods, called each by name, and bade him name his sending.

And each god named a sickness, a pain, or a killing.

► Continue reading…

At one side stood Oonah the Death Shadow, and in his hand held his quiver. And as each punishment was named, into his quiver placed Oonah an arrow, sharp-pointed, swift-flying, death-carrying.

The quiver was full, and all had spoken, all save Yaeethl the Raven, who by the cook pot sat smiling, eating.

To Yaeethl spoke K’hoots the Grizzly, saying:

“Dost thou send nothing, Brother? Behold, the Quiver of Death is full, and from the Raven is there no arrow of punishment for men. What arrow gives Yaeethl?”

“Why bother me when I am eating? Is there not time after the pot is empty? Many arrows there are. Because men insult me shall gods spoil my eating?” Thus spoke the Raven as he scraped the pot.

Then Hekt the Frog urged, saying:

“Art thou a god, or is thy belly a god, that in the council the Raven takes no part?”

“A god am I, and a god have I been since the Beginning, thou son of wind and slime. But that my ears may be no longer troubled, a little punishment will I send, that the sons of men forget me not. No arrow from Yaeethl shall find place in Oonah’s quiver. Arrow and messenger both will I send. Thy punishments carry the peace of death, mine the torment of life.”

“And this punishment of thine?” asked Hekt sneering.

And Yaeethl, as from the pot he cleaned the last morsel, replied: “Ta-ka.”

Of all the punishments named by the gods the first to reach the earth was that of Yaeethl — Ta-ka the Mosquito.

To Khandatagoot the Woodpecker, the simple-minded, went Ta-ka, and from the Woodpecker claimed hospitality. And the rights of a stranger gave Khandatagoot to Ta-ka, gave him a place by the fire, and of his food a share, for his head a shelter, treating him as the son of a sister is treated Together they fished and hunted, together they ate and slept. Of the hunting and fishing the chief part was Khandatagoot’s, of the eating and sleeping Ta-ka’s, — Ta-ka who from Yaeethl came.

On a morning the Woodpecker fixed his canoe, and alone to the hunt went the Mosquito.

All day was Ta-ka gone. Low hung the sun when to camp he returned. Slow flying came the Mosquito, and as blood is red, so was the body of Ta-ka, and swelled mightily.

Then was the Woodpecker frightened, thinking his friend wounded, and crying, ran to help him. To the ground sank Ta-ka, but no wound could Khandatagoot find.

Many questions asked the Woodpecker, and to them Ta-ka replied:

“No hurt have I, but full is my belly, full of the choicest eating that ever made potlach. Yet much did I leave behind, the feasting of many months did I leave.”

Then was the belly of Khandatagoot pinched with hunger for this good eating, and of Ta-ka claimed his share.

On the tongue of the Woodpecker placed Ta-ka a drop, saying: “No more can I give of what I have eaten, but as you have shared with me, so shall I share with you. The fill of many bellies is there left.”

“Where is this sweet eating?” asked Khandatagoot, “Tell me the trail that I too may feast until my wings are heavy.”

“No trail is there, Brother. The red juice of a dead tree is this eating, a dead tree in the forest. Its name I know not, but hunt, and you shall find it. Go quickly, lest others get there first.”

And since then, the Woodpecker spends his days seeking in dead trees the red juice that flows in the veins of live men.

The Water Carrier

In a time when the earth lacked water, Heenhadowa, the Thirst Spirit, guarded the sole well hidden among mountains, denying all beings access. Yaeethl, the Raven, driven by thirst and compassion for suffering humanity, attempted to persuade Heenhadowa through kinship claims and flattery. When these efforts failed, Yaeethl resorted to scorn, mocking the Thirst Spirit’s obstinance. The tale underscores themes of resource guardianship and the consequences of selfishness.

Source:
In the Time That Was
being legends of the Alaska Klingats
by J. Frederic Thorne (Kitchakahaech)
The Raven – Seattle, 1909

► Themes of the story

Trickster: Yaeethl, the Raven, embodies the trickster archetype, using his wit and cunning to achieve his goals.

Conflict with Nature: The scarcity of water represents a struggle against natural forces, with characters striving to overcome environmental challenges.

Good vs. Evil: The narrative portrays the struggle between Yaeethl’s efforts to provide water to the world and Heenhadowa’s selfish hoarding of it.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Tlingit Lore

Learn more about Tlingit people

Cha-auk. [Ages ago.] In the Time before Time, there was no water upon the earth or in the bowl of the sea, and Shanagoose the Sky gave neither rain nor snow.

In one place only was Keen, the water. In a deep well it was, the father of wells, hidden among the mountains that lie between here and Tskekowani. To Heenhadowa, the Thirst Spirit, belonged the well, by Heenhadowa was it guarded. By the door of the well-house sat he by day, in front of the well-house door was his bed by night. And none might enter.

► Continue reading…

Never did he leave the well, morning, noon or night. From the water he took life, to the water he gave life. To no man, woman, or child, to neither animal nor bird, to nothing that walks, creeps, or flies would Heenhadowa give of the precious water. Not so much as would moisten the tongue of Ta-ka the Mosquito would he give, though men died.

To quench their thirst men chewed the roots of young trees and the stalk of Yan-a-ate [species of wild celery].

A few men there were, brave of heart and moose-legged, who had travelled the weary journey to the well among the mountains, the mountains marked with the trail of Oonah, the Gray One, Death, seeking the water that is life.

And of them?

Is it not well said that Oonah, Death, and Koo-stay, Life, are brothers, and he who seeks one finds the other?

And Heenhadowa laughed, first at their black lips, later at their white bones, and drank deep but gave not.

Now Yaeethl, the Raven, Desirer of All Things, longed most for those that were forbidden, concealed, or like the favor of women, not to be had for the asking. And since the water was denied, his tongue ached with dryness, and Yan-a-ate lost its savor. Also was his heart moved by the prayers of men and the cries of women. But his tongue troubled him more than did his heart, his tongue and his cupidity, so that he was moved to try his cunning where the strength and bravery of men had failed.

No crooked trail through forests and over mountains had Yaeethl to measure with his feet, but on his wings of blackness was he borne straight to the place of the well.

Well and well-house he found, found also Heenhadowa, watchful, moving not from his place. As one greets an old friend new found spoke Yaeethl to the Thirst Spirit. With smooth tongue and soft words spoke the Raven, claiming kinship through the cousin of his grandmother’s grandmother. Said also that when he left his father’s country he was bidden seek that old and true friend of the family, Heenhadowa the Wise, the Generous Giver of Water. As bidden, so had he obeyed and flown straight without halt or rest to bow before his mighty relative, and taste of his wonderful well, the like of which not even his father had, who possessed all things.

But the Maker of Thirst laughed at the Raven and mocked him, bidding him, if he would drink, find or dig a well of his own.

Again Yaeethl recounted their connected lineage, from mother to mother’s mother, from family to family and tribe to tribe, tied with proof and argument, lashed with meek bows, and smoothed with soft flattery.

Heenhadowa laughed scornfully, cast from him the claim of cousinship, and mocked at Yaeethl’s tongue, dry from the dust of many words.

Then Yaeethl drew about him the parka of anger and answered scorn with scorn, mockery with mockery, and laughter with laughter.

In his father’s country, said Yaeethl, they gave the name of Heenhadowa to mangy dogs and unclean women. Glad was the heart of Yaeethl that the Thirst Spirit denied the relationship he had laid as a snare, the denial would make his father proud. As for the well, ‘twas now known to the most stupid, even to men, that it was but an empty hole in the ground, covered by the well-house to hide the dryness there of, and no deeper than Kaelt-tay, the Seagull, scratches in the sand for nesting.

Laughed Heenhadowa again, saying that belief or unbelief of Raven or man lessened not his treasure by a drop.

Then Yaeethl’s words flared as firesparks. Hot words of evil sounding names, vile as only the brain of Yaeethl could fashion, taunts that bit and stung festeringly like the nettles of Sech-ut [devil’s club], names that would disgrace the family of a Siwash, callings that would make even a squaw-man hang his head in shame. Can I say more of the bitterness of the tongue of Yaeethl?

Heenhadowa laughed.

To battle Yaeethl challenged the Thirst Spirit: Come forth and meet me, you fatherless son of a shameless mother, littering of a slave’s slave.

Come with me to the plain below and I will make of thy blood another well, for another of thy family of dogs to guard.

Flatteries and arguments, insults and challenges fell into the same echoless hole, bringing to Yaeethl only the laughter of Heenhadowa and increase of thirst.

Then was the heart of Yaeethl heavy within him, but not so heavy as his face said, for it is not the way of the Raven to eat quickly of discouragement, though he turned and left the well and its guardian like a gambler who has lost his last blanket.

Not far did he go. Only so far as to be hidden from the eyes of Heenhadowa, where silence might mother the children of his brain. And since the brain of the Raven is full of the seeds of cunning a plan was quickly born.

Back toward the well flew Yaeethl, but, since he who sees the tail of a lone wolf imagines the whole pack, he alighted at a distance where the eyes of Heenhadowa saw as one sees in a fog. A space the size a man uses for his lodge he cleared of all bushes and weeds, to the smallest blade of grass he cleared it of everything that grew.

When the space was as the palm of a man’s hand the Raven spread his wings until every feather showed and, first bowing low to Hoon-nach, Yundahaech, Sa-nach, and Deckta-haech [North, East, South and West], who guard the four corners of the earth, walked slowly around the sides three times, at every third step stopping and making strange motions and stranger sounds, as does an Icht [Witch Doctor] when he would drive the evil spirits away.

From each corner he took a stone and spat upon it and cast it over his shoulder, and in the dust drew the shapes of animals like unto rolled deer-thongs, animals with two tongues such as no man has seen upon earth. [Snakes are unknown in Alaska]

To the space Yaeethl dragged logs and laid them end across end and bottom on top. As each tier was laid he sang words in a strange language, and as he sang, spat upon and cast pebbles over his shoulder as before.

But toward Heenhadowa were the eyes and tongue of Yaeethl the eyes of the blind and the tongue of the dumb. Busily he worked and loudly sang his charms, but to the Thirst Spirit he gave neither look nor word.

On Yaeethl were the eyes of Heenhadowa fastened, strained were his eyes, watching the doings of the Raven, wide his ears to catch the words of the songs and charms.

When the roof was on and the house finished to the last piece of moss between the logs, Yaeethl again circled it three times, bowed again to the guardians of the earth’s ends, and without looking behind, entered the lodge and closed the door.

Curiosity filled eyes and ears, heart and belly of Heenhadowa. Though he had lived since the Beginning, never before had he seen what that day he had seen, never had his ears been greeted with such words and songs.

And to Heenhadowa the inside of the lodge was the pack, as was the outside the lone wolf tail.

Even so had Yaeethl planned, nor was that the end of the cunning of the Raven, who knew that no door can bar the going in of curiosity.

Long sat Heenhadowa before the door of his well-house, gazing at the lodge of Yaeethl. And the longer he sat and the longer he gazed the keener grew his desire to see what was hidden from his eyes by the walls and closed door, grew until it tortured him as the thirsty are tortured, beyond endurance.

And Heenhadowa rose from his seat by the well.

From the place where he had sat for ages rose the Thirst Spirit and stepped softly. Toward the closed door he moved as moves one who is pulled at the end of a thong, for the fear of the unknown was upon him. But stronger than his fear was his desire to know what lay behind the door, stronger even than his fear of those strange animals that were drawn in the dust, dust pictures that made his blood ice.

Before the door he stopped and glanced back the way he had come, at his well and well-house he looked, then pushing against the door with his hand, stepped within the house builded by Yaeethl, made by Yaeethl the Raven, Yaeethl the Cunning.

No man knows what Heenhadowa found within the lodge of the Raven. Only this we know.

When the time of the boiling of a salmon had passed, from the door stepped Yaeethl walking as a man walks who has been carrying a heavy pack. Behind him he closed the door and against it rolled a heavy stone, a stone so heavy that not even K’hoots the Grizzly, the Strong One, could have moved it away again.

Within the lodge was silence, silence big with unborn noise.

To the well of Heenhadowa, the father of wells among the mountains, the well untasted of man or beast, flew Yaeethl, Yaeethl the Desirer of All Things.

And when the Raven stood beside the well he bowed his head and drank.

Some say that it took him many moons, some put it the length of a man’s life, but, long time or short time, when the head of Yaeethl the Raven was lifted the well was dry.

Of water there was none in the well of Heenhadowa.

In the belly and mouth of the Raven was the water. All.

Then did Yaeethl spread wide his wings of blackness and fly the way of his coming.

As he flew over the bosom of Klingatona-Kla, the Earth Mother, in this place and in that he spat out some of the water. And where spat the Raven there sprang up streams, and rivers, and lakes.

When he had flown so long and so far that the water was gone from his mouth, and in his belly was not fresh, then from his belly and his mouth he cast it, salt, and Athlch, the Ocean, was.

If you listen to the words of them that know not, they will tell you that Haechlt is a great bird the falling of whose eyelids makes thunder, the flashing of whose eye is the lightning, but if my words be the words of truth, then is thunder the angry voice of Heenhadowa whom Yaeethl made prisoner, and lightning the cracks in the lodge walls when he throws himself against them, struggling to be free. Should he succeed…

But, bird or Thirst Spirit, from Yaeethl is the gift of water. So say I again when you drink, give thanks to the Raven that chewed roots are not the answer to thy dry lips, give thanks, and pray that the rock rolls not away.