Brave, the Maiden, and the Tree

Of Crow, and Dog, and Seed

Photo by Debra Manny Mosley on Unsplash

Brave lived in the high, hot desert of sage and Eagle and Coyote, where the Ancients is close enough that one’s soul might soar to Him easily. Brave was travelling very far from home when he met the Maiden, blonde haired and blue eyed. She stole his heart, or he gave it to her, or perhaps a little of both. She was in the deep Northern country where snows blow in above Horse’s belly and Fish can be caught through ice for months on end, and sometimes strange Lights appear in the night sky. Brave told her of his land where Sun is warm for long, long summers and Winter is much more kind. So she left her family and many pairs of moccasins and went with him.

They made their home among his people, in that high, warm place and were happy for a time. Trickster, seeing this, was not pleased. He came to Brave while he was out hunting alone, and lured him into looking into a stone that was supposed to show him whatever his heart desired, but instead it captured his soul.

The Maiden was brokenhearted. She was all alone in her grief at Brave’s quiet betrayal. The Ancients was angry when he saw this, and he took the Maiden so far away from Brave that she could only be seen as a glimmering light in the night sky. The Ancients laid a curse on callow Brave, that he must spend every night sleeping alone on the edge of the world.

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The edge of the world had been made when, in a distant age, Brave’s ancestors had become so wick and despicable that the Ancients had packed up His sledge of all that was His, and had left those people. And the sledge had cut great furrows in the ground which filled with tears of the Ancients’ grieving, for he loved his wayward people. And so the world was flooded by His tears, and only a select few were spared, and when His tears receded to the spring it left behind the edge of the world.

And it was here that Brave was cursed to spend his nights.

And so he did, or tried, but with his back on the very edge of that great precipice he could get no rest for fear of falling. So night after night he lay in that lonely place gazing into the night sky and his lost Beloved, and felt shame. The Maiden saw his misery from her abode deep in the night sky, and she begged the Ancients for mercy, so He sent Dog to Brave one night. Dog dared Brave’s fire and begged a morsel of food. Brave, in his loneliness, fed Dog and Dog lay on the edge of Brave’s blankets, pressed up to him for warmth, and Brave soon discovered that he was wrapped snug in a cocoon like Caterpillar and anchored as safe as a canoe to shore. And so, with gratitude swelling in his heart to Dog and to the Ancients, he slept under the Light of the Maiden and Moon.

Trickster stamped his feet at this, and plotted against Brave, and against the Ancients. Trickster bribed Squirrel in the early morning, when he was distracted by the thought of nuts and seeds, and Squirrel agreed. He led Dog on a merry chase until they were far from Brave and the edge of the world. Squirrel was quick and wily, but Dog was a great and persistent hunter and a quick study. So Dog captured Squirrel, and Dog ate Squirrel.

Then Dog, tired (this is why we say “Dog-tired”) and with a full tummy rested. And slept. And rolling over and curling up he slept some more.

Brave found himself without his companion come bed time, but he had learned something from Dog. Brave found a Stone as big as Dog, warmed by a long day under Sun, and he rolled Stone close to the edge of the world. Then climbing over Stone with blankets at the ready, he lay down against the edge of the world swaddled like a baby and, reaching out, pulled Stone to him, pinning the blanket edges beneath. Stone gladly shared the warmth he had soaked up all day. Stone was generous to a fault and would share with any in need—Fox, Coyote, even Snake.

So Brave rested with a heart full of gratitude for Sun, and Stone, and especially for the Ancients, who had twice shown him mercy.

Trickster fumed. His fury would have boiled his blood, had he any.

Dog woke after a sleep longer than any he’d had since Mother’s milk. He began circling for clues which way was Home, but he could not remember the way. All he could remember were the tantalizing scents of Squirrel, of recent memory. Holding that in his mind, he followed what he could remember of the scent. He was soon back where he had—finished Squirrel. So he held that scent again, and was soon making great progress as he followed the trail backward. This was a new idea. He was so happy he began baying as he ran the trail backwards.

Trickster heard the baying and knew it was only a matter of time before Dog would return.

Trickster crept into Brave’s camp just before sunup, when the night is darkest, and stole Stone from Brave. He was a great thief. Setting Stone aside (who was desperately trying to cry out, but Stone had no voice) he picked up a pawful of embers from the dying fires and flung them upon Brave’s blankets.

The blankets burst into flame. Brave woke and twisted to unwrap the fiery wrap--

and plunged over the edge of the world, crying out as he fell and fell.

Dog heard his cry and redoubled his efforts. He arrived at the edge of the world to Trickster dancing in celebration for his victory over Brave and over the Ancients. Wrath consumed him and he crashed into Trickster, biting him in the hamstring. And he simply disappeared into dust, smoke and ash. But Dog’s nose and muzzle had been turned black from the bite, a mark he and his children and his children’s children would carry forever, a mark of their loyalty to those that feed them and care for them.

Brave’s cries were faint now , except to Dog’s ears. It broke his heart and he would have thrown himself over the edge of the world to save him, but Dog had no wings. He Howled and howled and wailed until even the Ancients heard him.

And Crow answered. He pumped his wings as hard as he could and flew higher than he ever had before. Only Eagle had gone so high before.

Crow was met by a Messenger who placed a seed in his beak and cast him to earth. Crow was a spear from the hand of the Ancients, plunging toward the bowels of the earth, below the edge of the world.

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Brave continued his fall for so long that he was an old man when he hit the bottom, body crushed and his dying heart exposed. Crow landed next to the quivering muscle feathers smoldering, and he placed the seed gently into the broken fountain. He then hopped sideways, head cocked, cawed, paused and twice more called out, then hopped over to the nearby spring which was all that was left of the tears of the Ancients. He drank, then bathed until feathers, now permanently blackened, ceased smoking and glistened in the light of Sun. He preened and fluffed in the reflection in the pool. A recently dead fish rested on the edge of the small creek that flowed from the spring, having spawned and died.

Crow ate the eyes first, and felt his vision strengthen. Then he picked at bugs and a worm. Returning to Fish, he ate the entrails for dessert.

Behind him, the seed in Brave’s heart had sprouted and, watered by the fluids of Brave’s corpse and water from the spring, was rapidly growing into a massive tree.

Crow cocked his head, watched the tree rise into the sky. He took wing and landed in a branch, rode the tree into clouds.

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Eventually Squirrel and Squirrel’s children came to live in the tree and eat the seeds it gave. Crow and Crow’s children too made their home in the tree, eating seeds from the tree, and bugs, and dead spawned fish, and all manner of thing. Crow is not picky.

Trickster eventually made his way over the edge of the world to Brave’s tree, and he saw what manner of life was around the spring of the Ancient’s tears, and the base rage which boiled from his being formed into fire, and that fire was a spear flung from on high. It struck the tree, burning it to it’s roots, and all the Ancient’s creatures that were in the tree or near it were bone and ash. The tree itself was split in two. Out of the split crawled Brave, now blistered, charred and bloody. He looked around him and saw what his life had brought, and he began wailing, heaping the ash from the tree and Crow and Dog and Squirrel upon his head, and rubbed it all over his body so the blister burst and water from them mingled, and blood and ash, a ghost. He was monstrous to behold; and lamented that he had ever done evil, or been unfaithful or unfair or unfeeling. He repented and was contrite to his bones and bowels and the very depth of his being.

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And he quietly begged mercy, and did penance in tears and ashes.

Then the Ancients saw and was pleased that he had finally learned and understood, and a flaming mustang came and took him away, and Dog and Crow with him, glowing with a great light, and they were seen no more among the living.