Folio 04: White Raven

Long ago, when man and animal could still understand each other, Raven had feathers of white to hide him in the snow and keep him warm. But his friend Man did not have a thick hide of fur like Bear to keep them warm. “Raven, we are so cold, and the Sun is so far—can you beg the Sun to come back sooner?”

“I will fly to the Sun, and ask,” said Raven, for he was always a friend to Man.

Raven flew longer and higher than he had ever before, above the pine trees, above the mountains, into the sky where the stars lived. But the closer he got, he felt his feathers singe, the terrible heat too much. But he surged forward anyway, for he had made a promise to his friend Man, and with his beak, he snatched a piece of the Sun as it sunk beneath the west sea.

Flying back to the cave where Man hid, Raven’s feathers scorched and smoked, no longer as pale as fallen snow, but black and as dark as a moonless night.

Raven stole the Sun for his friend Man, and taught him the ways of fire to keep him warm even when the snows were deep and the wind biting and sharp.