Ancient Legends Depicted on Rugs

   This is a legend that is often represented on antique rugs, especially really old rugs.

It was the first winter in the world, and all of the animals in the forest saw their first snow.
    “Oh, it’s all white and fluffy!” Said Rabbit.
    But after a while First Winter stopped seeming magical and started seeming cold. It was cold all day every day, and Sun hardly ever came out. Soon, all the creatures in the forest might be buried in the snow.
    Wise Owl came up with a plan.
    “We must send a messenger to the Sun Spirit, so that he will send us a part of himself to keep, and ward off the Winter Spirit. Someone must step forward to do this.”  He held out a stick with his claws.
    “Well, I can’t go,” Turtle said. “I am far too slow. We would all freeze!”
    “I certainly cannot go,” said Wolf. “For Sun Spirit would not believe my cries.”
    Finally, the most beautiful of the birds stepped forward, his feathers shining all the colors of the rainbow. His bright, melodious voice rang out: “I, Rainbow Crow, shall go.”
    It was a long journey, three days up into the sky. Rainbow crow carried the stick above trees and clouds, past the Spirit of the West Wing and the Spirit of the North Wind, past the stars. When he reached the holy home of the Sun Spirit, he was nearly blinded with its glory, and he opened his beak to deliver the most beautiful song in the world.
    “With what shall I reward this serenade?” Asked Sun.
    “Please, Sun Spirit, I  ask for a piece of you to bring to the land and save the forest.”
    As he finished his request, the end of his stick burst into flames.  It was the hottest thing Rainbow Crow had ever felt.
    “Now fly,” said Sun, “before it burns out.”
    As Rainbow Crow flew home, the fire drew closer and closer to him. It billowed hot smoke into his lungs, threw soot onto his wings. The heat made his eyes sting. By the time he descended from the sky back to Earth, Rainbow Crow’s feathers were all black, and his voice was left an ugly caw.
    “I have brought you fire,” he croaked. “For keeping warm.”  All the animals in the forest rejoiced.
    And when Man came to the forest, he never hunted Crow, for his flesh tasted of soot and his voice was not worth caging. But if you look closely, when the sun shines on the feathers of a crow, you can see all the colors in the rainbow reflected on their surface.