Originally posted to Shrubbery, 8 Sept 2003
A long time ago the god Apollo had a pet crow named Corvus which he kept for his amazing shimmery-white plumage and wonderful, clear singing voice. Most birds would have been so honoured by the god's attention that they would have done anything for him, but Corvus tended to get a little full of himself and distracted. He was forever forgetting to do the things he was asked to because he'd found something along the way that was far more fun or interesting.
One day Apollo decided to put Corvus to the test. He called the crow to him and told him how much he longed for a drink of water from his sacred spring down on earth. He gave Corvus his golden cup (Crater), told him to fill it and return as fast as he could, and sent him on his way.
Now, Apollo had made the trip sound so important that Corvus actually felt pretty special as he flew towards the spring with the cup in his mouth. He was looking forward to a reward and thinking with pleasure about what the god might give him when he returned, when suddenly his stomach gave a growl. He'd been in such a hurry to leave with the cup that he'd forgot to have breakfast! He did his best to ignore the first growl and the second and the third, but pretty soon he was having trouble thinking of anything but food.
As he got closer to the spring he noticed a beautiful fig tree loaded with the most amazing figs he'd ever seen. Figs were Corvus's favourite food, and he could hardly keep his stomach from growling at the thought of nice, ripe figs. He thought he'd stop just for a moment and have one or two, so he carefully put the golden cup down in the grass and flew up into the tree. Oh no! The wonderful-looking figs weren't ripe yet! What could hungry Corvus do?
Well, by this time he was so filled with the thought of figs for breakfast that he'd forgotten he was supposed to be hurrying to the spring. He sat down under the tree and decided to wait for the figs to ripen. He couldn't wait to taste those amazing-looking figs, and he was imagining just how wonderful they would be as he carefully preened his shining white feathers. He even sang his best songs to the tree in hopes that the figs would ripen even sweeter.
At last the figs were ripe. Corvus flew up into the tree and started eating figs. They were soooo good. Corvus ate figs and ate figs and ate figs until he was so full he couldn't have stuffed in another fig if his life depended on it. He flew back down to the grass and settled down for a nap, fully contented.
Unbeknownst to Corvus, though, Apollo had been watching him the whole time and do you think he was pleased? Not at all. "So that's how well Corvus follows instructions. We'll soon remind him of his job." And with that Apollo sent a ray from the sun in just the right direction to strike the golden cup and reflect into Corvus's eyes as he laid in the grass.
Corvus woke up with a start, wondering why things had gotten so bright. When he saw the golden cup sitting there, he suddenly remembered Apollo's task and how late he was. He grabbed the cup in his mouth, dashed to the sacred spring to fill it, and headed off back to Olympus as fast as his wings could carry him. The whole time he was thinking of what he was going to tell Apollo to keep him from getting angry. The truth, of course, never crossed his mind. Silly bird.
When Corvus returned he found Apollo waiting for him with a frown on his face. Undaunted, Corvus strutted into the room and said, "here is your cup and the water you sent me for, Apollo. I hope it will satisfy you, because it was quite a job to get it." "Oh???" said Apollo, "and what was so difficult about the job?" "Well," said Corvus, " I went down to the spring as you'd asked me, but as I was about to dip the cup in I noticed the water was all churned up and murky. I thought that maybe someone had dumped something into your spring, so I put the cup down to clean things up. Just as I had things nicely clear a huge water snake (Hydra) leaped out of the spring, grabbed the cup, and swam right to the bottom with it. Now, I'm not a water bird like Cygnus the Swan, but when I saw the snake steal your cup I knew I had to go after it. I leaped into the water, wrestled the cup away, killed that horrible snake, and headed back as fast as I could."
Corvus was so proud of his story that he didn't notice the frown on Apollo's face deepen. "And this is how you work for me? Lies. You and your snake. Where is this snake you killed? Did he perhaps resemble a fig, crow? Figs are the only things I saw you wrestling down there."
When Corvus knew he'd been caught out in a lie he tried to hide trembling in a corner, but it was too late. The angry god reached out, grabbed the frightened bird, and started pulling his feathers out by the handful. He pulled and pulled and pulled, letting those feathers fall back to earth where they became the first snowfall. When he was done, all that was left was a shivering, naked Corvus.
But Apollo wasn't done. "Your tongue will be forever branded by your lies, bird," he said, and he reached right down Corvus's throat and pulled out that beautiful singing voice. Poor Corvus was left with nothing but a pathetic caaaaaw, and as soon as Apollo set him free he ran away and hid himself from all the other birds out of shame.
Well, Corvus's feathers eventually did grow back, but as we all know they didn't grow back shimmery-white like they used to be. Today all crows are black because of Corvus's lies, and when they try to sing no one ever admires their croaky voices. As for Corvus himself, Apollo put him up in the sky with Crater the cup and Hydra the snake, and Corvus can never again reach the cup to take a drink for his poor raw throat.
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