The Crow and the Raven

When the raven flew over the village, people stopped and looked up. "Which way did he turn?" they asked. "Is it good luck or bad?" Farmers stopped their ploughs. Mothers stopped their washing. Nobody ever stopped for the crow.

"It isn't fair," she said to herself. "I am just as black as he is. I am twice as loud. If they stop for him, they can stop for me."

One morning she saw some travellers coming down the road. She flew up into a tree and picked a branch right above their heads. She stretched out her neck, opened her beak and cawed as loud as she could. "Caw! Caw! CAW!"

The travellers stopped. They turned and looked up. "What can it mean?" one asked, and the crow held her breath.

His friend shaded his eyes and laughed. "Come along," he said. "It's only a crow, and everyone knows a crow means nothing at all."

The travellers walked on. The crow sat on her branch, with her beak still open.