How Raven Made Himself a Wife

If you know many stories of Raven you know that he’s a wanderer and a playful one. And that can be a lonely life; not many girls would want to live a life like Raven’s. In fact, no girl did. And so Raven made himself a wife instead.

He’d never intended to make himself a wife. In fact, he’d intended to go fishing. Raven was perching just above the river, waiting for a fish on a lazy afternoon, and to fill the time he called out, “Hi! Brother River! What news do you carry today?”

The river laughed and gurgled. “I always carry news, Raven. What do you want to know?”

And, being men, they began to gossip of wars and pretty girls and their own deeds. And Raven began to boast. On and on he went about how many girls had been under his blanket with him, until the lonely river splashed in annoyance.

“Raven, you have so many girls because none would stay with you for more than one night! You smell of dead fish!”

“Ga! And no woman would touch you, wet and cold and boring!” Raven cawed back. “If I wanted a wife, I could have any girl alive!”

“Oh yes?” burbled river angrily, “Then if you can do this, go do it! Go and bring a wife! And if you find a wife, and she is as pretty as you say, then you’ll win something from me. Go on, oh great and much wanted lover!”

Raven, his feathers much ruffled, took off, determined to find himself the most perfect wife. But no matter where he went, the girls turned him away. The daughters of the Sun hid behind their brother clouds, the birch girls all shooed him away, the mountain daughters hid in their snow and the deer girls said no.

“Fine!” Raven cawed, “I’ll make the girl then!”

And he set about gathering up the things he needed.  For a body he stole the perfect, graceful shape of Porcupine and her soft fur, which she’s never been able to regain. He stole Coyote’s beautiful color for her skin, and made off with all of cougar’s mildness and patience. He stole Hawk’s sweet singing voice and tricked ice out of its fragrance. Finally, he stole the Mole’s beautiful, sparkling eyes for his bride.

That night his work was finished, and he breathed life into the girl. When she breathed, when she looked at him, Raven fell in love.

“Your name is Fog Over Water.” He said, “And you are my wife.”

“I am your wife.” She said.

That night, she lay beside him, his wings wrapped around her.

Hand in hand, they went to see River next morning.

“She is splendid!” Raven murmured. “But Raven! She has no heart!”

 To this, Raven shrugged his feathered shoulders. Since he kept his own heart hidden, he had forgotten that she might need one. “She is perfect without one. And you owe me.”

He opened his mouth to make a demand. But then he looked at his new wife. “River, you owe me. I want your laughter.”

 Raven took the laugh, and gave it to his wife. “What I have, now, is yours.”

And to this day, Ravens present gifts to their wives, who they never abandon. And Raven, though he wanders, loves his wife to this day.