In 1996 Bill Reid wrote a short story “The Raven’s Call”. He left the story open-ended. In 2008, Haida artist Michael Nicoll Yahgulanaas created a short animated film based on the story also leaving it unfinished.
The animated story ends:
Sound: CAAAAAWWWW!
We see Raven in the foreground on a tree branch. He flies down to land on the stump where the pole once stood.
Narrator (as Raven): “Hey, we can figure this out!”
The stump and Raven become the period in a giant question mark as the story ends.
I propose this continuation…
Narrator (as Raven): “In the custom of our people, we will have a dancing contest, each of us will dance and the Haida people will decide who wins. The winner decides the fate of this pole.”
“Well that is reasonable” responds beaver.
“But I can’t dance” said killer whale.
“Oh, sure you can; I saw you dance as you jumped from the waves. You dance much better than I” said the cormorant.
“That’s a great idea! Yes, I will dance. ” cheered the whale.
And the watchmen said “In the manner of the people we will drum and sing for all of you”.
Narrator (as Raven): “Wait here I’ll go find some people to judge the contest”.
CAAAAAWWWW!
Narrator: Finding Haida people interested in judging the contest proved more difficult than Raven expected. He flew over the town calling but nobody looked up. They were all engrossed in their lives. Cars, boats, and smartphones held their attention.
Raven saw a grandmother picking berries at the edge of the forest. He flew to her and called out.
CAAAAAWWWW!
She looked up, recognized Raven who was looking right at her. She hurried to find her family. Her son was busy with the nets. “I’m working” he said. His wife was just as busy with her home and weaving. Her eldest grandson was staring off into space with plugs in his ears. So she gathered the two youngest and went to the home of her best friend.
“A Raven you say. Calling to you?” exclaimed the friend. “I will call the old man and we will bring our people. Where should we meet?”
“I think at the old town, in the place where the poles once stood” she replied.
Throughout the day the people gathered. Most of them were old or very young, but a few were in their prime. Hearing that a raven had called some wore robes decorated with clan and family crests and sparkling with shell buttons. The sun set and the darkness grew, so a fire was lit.
The three watchmen drummed an old song. A song not heard in generations and barely remembered by the eldest. The people were drawn to a sound that awakened a sense of belonging to this land, a sense that some had nearly forgotten.
One of the watchman said, “in the manner of the elders we shall now hold a dancing contest. Each of the figures shall dance in the traditional manner of our people. Watch carefully and judge fairly”.
They switched to playing and singing the song of the beaver. Beaver in his mask and robe swayed to the beat of the drum and followed the sound of a rattle held by one of the watchmen, guiding him around the fire. He took a few steps swaying just so and then accidentally stepped on his foot. It was only a stumble, but it started some of the children giggling. The levity unnerved Beaver and he stumbled again, feeling self-conscious. At the display of his lack of confidence the giggling turned to laughter. When he continued to stumble, however the people voiced quiet encouragement. This touched Beaver and he relaxed, giving himself over to the music. Beaver remembered his role in life and too soon his song ended. In good cheer, he climbed into his position on the pole stump to watch the others. Beaver felt happy, contented, and connected; this was his place.
The drumming watchman started the song of the killer whale. Killer whale donned his robe and mask and danced to the beach where he dropped his robe and dove into the water. He swam and leaped in great crashing splashes which flashed in the moonlight. Even though the people could hardly see him in the darkness, all remembered the best, most spectacular, whale dances they had seen and cheered. Hearing the cheers, Killer whale threw himself fully into his dance. As the song ended, he returned to the shore, donned his robe, and climbed atop beaver. He too was happy and satisfied, truly remembering his place.
The dancing contest continued with Cormorant diving into the water, as cormorants are wont to do, and Owl dancing on a dark branch far above the fire. Although both dances were hardly seen, both dancers were heartily cheered. The people didn’t need to see Cormorant’s dance they remembered the best and most spectacular cormorant dances they had seen, just as they did for Owl’s dance. Each song, each dance, reminded not only the figures, but also the people, of their place in the world. How the each were related to the ancestors, and how those ancestors had touched their lives.
Finally it was Raven’s turn. As the drumming watchman started to play Raven’s song, an old man wearing a robe motioned for the drum and the watchman passed it over. The watchman smiled as he climbed into his place on the pole. Then the same thing happened to the watchmen singing and rattling and they too climbed the pole. Haida elders took over Raven’s dance. The watchmen had done their part and were happy to pass it along to the Haida.
As Raven danced, he called to the spirits of the cedar. The figures standing in their places on the pole swayed slightly as cedar wood closed the gaps between them. It seemed to those watching that their features melted into each other and they became more tree than being. The newly forming pole popped as deep fissures of age formed and the colors faded from their robes to be replaced by ripples of aged wood grain.
Raven leaped into the night sky swirling and tumbling into the darkness as Ravens do. Soon only his song could be heard.
CAAAAAWWWW! CAAAAAWWWW! CAAAAAWWWW!
The people continued to sing around the new old pole and for at least for one more night Raven and the pole had reminded them of what it meant to be Haida. It was now up to them to remind their families as the next chapter in this continuing story would be written by them.