Ten Birds That Changed the World (eBook)

But let us take a step back for a moment and focus not on the thoughts and feelings of the woman, but on the instincts and motives of the bird itself. Why would the raven want to warn her against a potentially fatal attack? And if there is no satisfactory answer to that question, what is really going on here?

Since prehistoric times, wolves and ravens have worked together to find food – sometimes co-operating with human hunters, at other times with mammalian predators. Ravens are too small to kill prey as large as a deer: something only wolves or humans – and cougars – can do.

But, compared with the raven, these large terrestrial mammals lack one major advantage: they cannot fly. Only the raven can reconnoitre a large area of ground, locate potential prey and then return to guide the hunters towards the target. If the hunters succeed in making a kill, they will feast on the animal’s flesh. But when they are done, they leave the remains behind, with enough meat on the bones for the ravens to scavenge a hearty meal.

So while we might wish to see the raven’s intentions as benign, isn’t the opposite likely to be the case? Is it not far more probable that the raven was intentionally luring the cougar towards the woman, hoping that it would succeed in making a kill? Then both the cougar and the raven would have feasted to their heart’s content. As the eminent ornithologist Bernd Heinrich, who recounted the tale in his book Mind of the Raven, notes, ‘Everything I know about ravens … is congruent with the idea that ravens communicate not only with each other, but also with hunters, to get in on their spoils.’2

As an example of how we so often misunderstand the motives and actions of birds, it is hard to see how this story could be bettered. It teaches us an important lesson: that when it comes to wild creatures, we must take care not to assume that they are somehow ‘on our side’. Sometimes they might be, but only if they also benefit from this temporary alliance.

The unvarnished truth is that, like every other bird in this book, ravens are simply thinking about themselves and their own survival. It is a truth we would do well to bear in mind.

We can tell that human beings and ravens have a long history together by examining the origin of the bird’s name. ‘Raven’ is one of the oldest of all the names we use for birds, having first come into use long before the birth of Christ.†

We know this because, as with a handful of other bird names such as swallow and swan, the word for the raven is more or less the same in all the Scandinavian and Germanic languages – including English.3 Therefore we can reasonably deduce that they all derive from the same original root, based, of course, on a humanised version of the bird’s call.4

The word used in Icelandic to this day, hrafn (with the ‘f’ pronounced as ‘v’), is likely to be the closest modern equivalent to the name uttered by our prehistoric ancestors, as they gazed up into a cold, grey sky and attempted to mimic the sound of this remarkable bird.

Ravens would have regularly followed human hunters – just as they would have tracked other large predators – in order to feed on the remains of their kills. But this was not a purely one-way transaction. In return, ravens would, as we have seen, alert humans and other mammalian predators to the presence of their victims.

This early, semi-symbiotic relationship with humans goes a long way to explaining why ravens feature so prominently in the mythologies of so many early cultures. Indeed, of all the world’s birds, the raven is the one most central to the origin stories of ancient civilisations. Right across the northern hemisphere, from Alaska to Japan, via Britain and Ireland, Scandinavia and Siberia and the Middle East, the raven is not only the primary bird of myth and legend; it is also, in most cultures, the very first bird to be thus mythologised.

Many other birds have significant roles in global mythology. These include owls, noted for their supposed wisdom; cranes and peacocks, long recognised for their intricate courtship dances, especially in parts of Asia; the sacred ibis, linked to the religions of Ancient Egypt; eagles, which represent strength and power (see chapter 8); and the resplendent quetzal, one of the world’s most beautiful and sought-after birds, which played a key role in the Pre-Columbian cultures of Central America. But significant though these all are, none have quite the same importance, geographical scope or historical longevity as our relationship with the raven.

Ravens also have a long and distinguished history as portentous messengers. This goes back at least as far as Ancient Greece, where Apollo (the god of prophecy) used them to deliver messages, although, as we shall see in other contexts, the birds were not always very reliable.5 One of the best-known bird legends of all has it that if the resident ravens at the Tower of London ever leave, the United Kingdom and its monarchy will fall.6

And in case you imagine that in the modern world, the raven no longer has such a hold on our beliefs and cultures, consider this. When the American author George R. R. Martin came to choose a bird to symbolise the power of prophecy – and take messages, like a supercharged carrier pigeon – in his novels (and later the TV series) A Game of Thrones, there was only one possible contender: the raven.7

But why is the raven at the heart of so many ancient and modern mythologies? What is it about this particular member of the crow family that has singled it out, in so many eras and locations, and in such a diversity of cultures, for this crucial role? As with other birds that give rise to stories, myths and legends, it comes down to the character of the bird itself: the raven’s habits, its behaviour and, above all, its intelligence.

Clever, resourceful, adaptable, crafty, opportunistic. Just five words of many that apply to ravens – and also, of course, to us. Like human beings, alongside whom they have lived for tens of thousands of years, ravens are able to change their behaviour to suit differing circumstances. Like human beings, they are able to solve problems, learn from their experiences and even vary what they do following a setback, so as to be more successful next time. And, just like human beings, they evoke a wide range of responses: from deep loathing to respect, admiration and even love.

But there is one other aspect of the raven’s character that made it the ideal subject for such myths: its independence of spirit. We first notice this trait in one of the earliest stories about the bird, and indeed the first mention of any bird in the Bible: from the Old Testament Book of Genesis, the story of the Great Flood.

After forty days, Noah is desperately seeking dry land for the Ark. He decides to release two birds – the raven and the dove – and the first to be sent out is the raven.8 The dove follows soon afterwards, but is unable to find a place to land and returns to the Ark. The raven is never seen again.

That independence – an unwillingness to bend to the will of its human...