Raven Steals Crow's Potlach

One day in the autumn, Raven looked up at the sky. "Winter is coming," he said to himself, “and quickly. How did it arrive so fast?”

All summer Raven had lived easy and enjoyed the warmth, forgetting that the winter was on its way. He had no food stored. But he shrugged. “Somebody always has food. I can get some from my friends.”

But no other creature had food for Raven. Squirrel chattered him out of her tree, Bear was asleep in his cave, Otter kept his fish safe dried in his den and Goose had taken his family south. Now Raven began to worry a little.

He soared to the top of a tree and perched there, thinking. While he perched, the scent of stew and cooking fire came to him, blown on the wind from the lodge of his cousin, Crow.

“Ga!” said Raven, “Now there I may have luck.”

"Crow!" Raven called out when he spotted him. “How good to see you!”

“Welcome, Cousin.”  Crow said cautiously. He was wary of Raven, but he invited him inside all the same. Raven complemented the lodge and all its fine goods. Then he turned to his cousin.

“You know, Crow, all of us have been talking about your singing.”

“Really?” said Crow, flattered, “I have been practicing in the forest, but I didn’t think anyone had heard.”

"Everyone's  heard, cousin! They’re all talking about your beautiful voice! They can't wait to hear you sing! I’ve been told you’ll be throwing a potlatch and singing soon. You're inviting me to your potlatch, right?" Raven asked eagerly.

"Potlatch?" Crow shook his head. "I have no potlatch planned.”

“Oh,” said Raven, “But you must have a potlatch! Everyone will be so excited!”

So Crow and Raven began cooking. The next day, Crow cooked and cleaned and practiced.  Raven went to deliver invitations. But to each one he told, he said, “Ga! I am throwing a great potlatch, and you are invited! But be sure you come in by the back door; the front will be too crowded.” Crow was never mentioned.

On the day of the potlatch, guests began to arrive. “I will see who is coming.” Said Raven, and he flew off. But once he was some distance off, he took the form of other animals and entered through the front door, greeting Crow and thanking him, while the real bearers of those shapes he greeted as if the Potlatch was his. All the time, Raven was grinning.

Soon, Crow began to sing, and every creature listened to his lovely voice and cheered him.

"One more song, Crow," called Raven.

The party went on for three nights and days. Crow sang and sang until his voice was hoarse. At the end of the potlatch, each guest received a package of food to take home.   Each guest thanked Raven and promised to invite him to their potlatches soon. Crow tried to tell his guests that this was his potlatch, but his voice was gone.

For the rest of the winter, Raven received invitations to many potlatches and ate very, very well. But Crow was not invited, and his food had all gone into the potlatch. He had to beg scraps of food. And without his voice, he could not explain what had happened. Even today, he can only croak “Ca!” And he still scavenges today.