Man Learns

In the earliest of times, when the world was unfired and new, after Ama the Maker had plowed the mountains and poured the rivers, he gathered all of the animals together to give each of them a gift.

To Antelope and Deer he gave the gift of speed, to Bear the gift of strength, to Crow and Kite the gift of flight, and on and on until there was no animal that did not puff and preen in pride.

Each of them was sure that their gift was the greatest, and soon fell to arguing amongst themselves. The clamor grew so great that finally Ama, who was trying to sleep, came out to see who was making all of the noise.

"Tell us, Ama, tell us!" they cried.

"Tell you what?" he said.

"Tell us which among us was given the greatest gift!"

Ama grew very cross then, for he had spent many days shaping the world and creating animals to live there, and now even after he had given each of them gifts they still disturbed his rest.

"None of you have the greatest gift!" he said. "I have saved it for the last of my creations."

"Who is it?" they asked. "What gift shall they receive?"

"You will find out tomorrow," he said, "when I have had my sleep."

Ama went back inside his hut and laid down to rest, but the animals were all so very curious that they cried outside his door, "who is it? What shall they receive?" again and again the whole night through, and he slept not a wink.

In the morning he went down to the river, and all the animals followed him. He dug up the rich red clay and threw it onto his great wheel to be shaped. The wheel spun so fast and his hands moved with such grace that not one of them could see the thing that he had made, even when he popped it quickly into his kiln to be fired.

Ama sat as the clay cooked, watching the animals stomp and snort impatiently, and enjoyed how restless he had made them. Ama is a kind god, but even he is not above such things when he has not had his sleep.

When the clay had been fired all the way through Ama pulled it out of the kiln, holding it tight in his hands so that they would not see. He carried it out of his hut, down to the little cave beside the mountain and set it down inside.

"There is he who is called Man, who bears my greatest gift!" he said, shouting over his shoulder as he walked back to his home. "Look upon him, if you dare!"

All of the animals were very curious, but it was a long time before any of them were brave enough to go and look. From Ama's words they were sure that Man was a very great and terrible creature. But finally Crow, who has always been the most curious and impatient of the animals, spread his colorful wings and flew into the cave.

(Crow used to have many different colors before he gave them to Peacock, but that is a story for another time.)
After just a moment they heard Crow call out. "Come and see, come and see," he cawed. "See the one called Man!"

Then all of them rushed in at once, although it was a very small cave. They were packed tight and cramped and crowded all in a circle, and in the center of the circle was Man.

They sniffed at Man, poked and prodded him all over until he was very sore, but they could not find his gift. Man was not strong, or fast, or keen of eye. He was weak and soft, and hunched over like a stunted tree.

"Where is it," they asked, "where is your gift?".

But he could not tell them.

Then all of the animals came running and crawling and flying out of the cave and went up to the house of Ama, beating at his door. "Ama!" they cried. "Ama, hear us!"

"I have heard you long enough," they heard him say. "Let me sleep."

But still they beat and shouted until he could stand it no longer and opened his door. "Would that I could turn you back to clay each night!" he said. "What is it that you want?"

"Ama, your kiln was cold this morning," they cried, "Man has come out half-baked! He is soft and badly shaped, and he has no gift!"

"No gift, indeed!" snapped Ama, vexed, for he does not like to be told that his work is shoddily done (and, remember, he still had not yet slept). "I have told you before that Man was given the greatest gift. Perhaps you did not look for it correctly!"

"Then what is it?" they said. "What is Man's gift?"

Ama could see now that he would have no rest until he had answered them. "Man's gift," he said, "is that he learns."

"How can that be the greatest of gifts?" the animals said. "You have given us flight, and strength, and speed. You have given us claws and fangs and horns and hooves, and thick warm fur, and eyes that see in the dark. To learn cannot be greater than these."

Ama threw back his head and laughed. "So sure you seem," he said, "and so proud. Do this, then. Go to Man, each of you, in turn. Show him how much greater your gift is than his. In the meantime I am leaving to sleep under the mountain, where I cannot hear your clamoring."

With that, he went and pried open the mountain, sealing the way behind him so that not a sound could come through, and finally he could rest from his labors. The animals were sad to see him go, and many wished they had not disturbed him so. They are vain and foolish, and often cannot think beyond themselves, but every one of them loves Ama, because he made them all.

But in time they turned their thoughts to animal things, and to the small shriveled creature in the cave who bore the greatest gift of all.

As the dawn rose, Bear came to the cave to challenge Man. "Come out, Man!" he bellowed. "Show me how your gift measures against mine."

Man stumbled out of the cave and peered at Bear in the bright morning light. With a snort, Bear heaved himself up onto his hind legs, and strutted about. "This is my strength, Man!" he said. "There is no other creature my size strong enough to walk on two legs. Do you have that strength?"

Man tried, but he could not walk more than a few steps before he fell back down. After a few tries, he went back into his cave- shuffling, as he always did, with his knuckles to the ground.

Bear laughed and returned to the animals, and told them that he had beaten Man.

The next day Man left his cave to walk amongst the animals. All of them whispered and muttered in wonder, for he was no longer hunchbacked and twisted. Man stood straight and true, balanced on his hind legs like Bear.

"Look at how strong Man is," they said. "Has he stolen Bear's gift?"

Bear only grumbled and went to pick berries.

The next to come to Man's cave were Antelope and Deer. "Come out, Man!" they cried as they danced in the long grass. "Show us your gift!"

When Man came out they took off, rushing at such speed that the eye could barely follow them through the grass only to erupt from it in great prancing bounds. "Speed is our gift, Man!" they said. "Catch us, and all the world shall know that yours is greater!"

Man chased the two, but he had never run before. They laughed and ran circles around the clumsy thing, taunting him just out of reach, on and on until he gave up and stomped back to his cave, angry and tired.

Antelope and Deer returned to the animals and told them that they had beaten man.

When morning came the next day, Man left his cave and sought out Antelope and Deer. Once again he gave chase to them, and once again they laughed and danced out of reach. But they soon found that Man did not tire as he had before. He chased them all throughout the day- long after they themselves had grown tired, and their legs burned and ached. They fled from him, laughing no longer, until the sun touched the earth once more and they finally collapsed. Then Man came and touched each of them on the horn, and when they staggered back home all the animals marveled at Man's speed.

After that came Wolf to Man's cave. "Come out, Man," he howled. "You have strength and speed, but can you track?"

When Man came out they played a great game of hide-and-seek. Man was soft and could squeeze into all the dark and hidden places in the world, but every time Wolf found him. His nose is his gift, and once he has picked up a track he can never lose it. Man's nose is no great instrument, and when it came time for Wolf to hide Man searched high and low until the sun had set, but he could not find him. He became terribly lost and it took a very long time to get home.

In the morning he emerged and found Wolf waiting for him, for Wolf is wise and had seen what had happened to Bear and Deer and Antelope. The game began again, and although Man could not hide from Wolf, neither could Wolf hide from Man. His nose was weak, but he could follow a trail by a tuft of hair, a broken twig, or the lightest pawprint on the hardest ground.

Wolf accepted his defeat with good grace and the two returned home together, and Wolf howled to the animals of Man's great tracking skill.

(Man and Wolf were very good friends for some time, but there is no time for that story now)

The following days passed in much the same manner. When the sun rose a new animal would come to the cave and challenge Man, and each time he lost they would boast to all the animals that they had beaten Man. But every time, by the next morning Man would leave his cave stronger than before and by nightfall all knew it.

The birds lighted before his cave one morning, and twirled overhead as he jumped to grab at them the whole day through. When evening came they sang of the glory of flight to the whole forest. But the day after that Man climbed the trees and the mountains and there was no place they could go that he could not.

Otter took Man to water, and there he floundered and flailed until Elephant had to wade in and save him from drowning. The next day he could dive to the deepest parts of the river and swim as if he were born to it.

Beaver chuckled, in that deep chattering way he does, watching Man struggle to stack sticks atop each other, but by sunset the day after there was a hut beside the cave to match Ama's own (only much smaller, of course). With Chameleon he played hide-and-seek once more, and soon was painting himself with all manner of mud and clay until not even Kite could pick him out against a cliff wall.

All of the animals came to test him. Deep down each of them knew that their gift was the best, and when Man failed their test it would mean that they were greater than Wolf and Bear and Antelope and all the other animals he had beaten. But somehow Man always managed to win, once he had first lost.

It was not too long before Man could dig and jump and sing and do just about every thing that any other animal could. The animals gossiped at the grazing fields and watering holes of how great a gift it was to learn, and all of them looked upon Man with envy and respect.

Well, all but one.

Tiger did not like Man at all. When Ama had given out his gifts to the animals he gave Tiger three of his most fearsome and terrible gifts, and this made Tiger haughty and cruel. Most animals sleep in nests or dens, but Tiger sleeps wherever he wishes, because he knows that no one dares to wake him.

Tiger is not as wise as Wolf, but he had more time to learn. He knew that once Man had taken everyone's gifts for himself, then he would rule the world and all the animals in it. This did not sit well with Tiger, who was quite comfortable in his position lording over the forest. He decided that Man would have to be dealt with immediately.

One night, when Man had gone to sleep, Tiger crept into his cave. Tiger is powerful, and the whole earth shudders when he roars, but he can also be quiet when he has cause. Each step he took with his great soft footpads was completely silent.

When he had come close enough Tiger started a growl deep in his throat, the kind he makes when he knows it is too late for his quarry to escape. Man awoke, and saw Tiger just above him, and knew then Tiger's first gift which is Fear.

Then Tiger leapt upon him and lashed with his terrible claws, tearing at Man all over and he knew Tiger's second gift which is Pain.

And then Tiger seized Man in his cruel jaws, shaking him about the cave, and finally tore him into a hundred pieces and Man knew Tiger's last gift which is Death.

Tiger looked upon Man's scattered pieces and knew that he had won. Man would have no chance to learn and beat him tomorrow. He went out to the heart of the forest and there he roared that Man was dead.

Many of the animals mourned the loss of Man, but many others did not, for all the time they had sung praises of Man, deep down they had hated him for stealing what had made them special.

In the gore of Man's cave came Rat and Rabbit. They had not challenged Man in the days before, for they were small and humble folk. In size and flesh and fur they were little like Man, but they have no love for Tiger, who does not count a day lived until he has visited Death upon them. As they looked upon Man's remains they felt a twinge of kinship.

They called out to all the smallest creatures of the world, and one by one they came: Beetle, with his great horn that he is so proud of; Termite, who dreams of one day building his house as tall as Ama's; Ant, with his marching troops; and on and on. As the day grew long they slowly gathered all of Man's parts together. It was difficult, for Man's pieces had been cast far and wide, but the little animals are nothing if not methodical. Before the sun had set they held all of Man's parts in one of his wicker baskets.

Together they carried the basket up to Ama's great kiln and poured in Man's remains. They kept the fire stoked and bellows pumping all through the night, and when light broke over the mountains Man climbed out of the kiln, good as new.

Man was alive, but he had not forgotten what Tiger had done. He marched straight into the jungle full of fire and smoke from the kiln. All the animals, those who had mourned his death and those who had praised his killer, saw his hard, stony eyes and knew that he had learned the gift of Fear.

All fled before him.

Tiger was sleeping in a great tree, secure in his victory. The flight of the animals roused him not a bit; Fear was his to give, not to receive. But it was another sound that woke him now. Not his own terrible roar, nor Bear’s great bellow, nor Wolf’s piercing howl. It was a thin, wavering cry, from a raw throat. But it was a cry from one who Tiger had never expected to hear again, and as he heard it, for the first time, he felt the touch of Fear.

He rose to flee, but Man had prepared while he slept. Around the tree he had crept, laying all manner of sticks and tinder in a great circle, making no noise on his toes. He could be quiet. He had cause.

The fire from Ama’s forge still roared hot in his belly. He belched it up in a gobbet, and soon fire licked all around Tiger’s tree. When Tiger awoke, all he could see was stinging smoke, and all he could breathe was ash. He leapt badly from his branch and landed in the burning brush, and as his paws touched the flames he knew Pain.

Man met him then, armed with a long stick sharpened to a point. Tiger tried to lash out with his claws, to tear with his fangs, but the spear kept him away, stabbing into him each time. At last Man leapt forward and drove his spear deep into Tiger, and as it pierced his heart Tiger knew the touch of Death.

Then Man called the animals back to him, and still stained with Tiger’s blood declared himself lord of all.

It was a bad time then, for the animals. Man's time in the kiln had hardened him, and the fire in his heart never left him. Each animal was made to serve in turn, giving him their wool, their horns, their very flesh, and the strength of their bodies. He ringed and bridled and gelded and in a thousand other ways he broke them to serve his needs.

Man tore the jungle down, and in its place built great clay huts that burned with his flame, and they bellowed out smoke until the bright blue sky was black with it. He tore into the earth in great ragged rents until the stone wept shining gems, which he hung around his neck and arms.

Otter found his rivers dammed with stone. The birds choked in their high places. The fish were caught in his great nets, the beasts in his wicked traps.

If they defied him, he brought them to heel with Fear and Pain. If they fled, he tracked them down. There was nowhere they could run, nowhere they could hide. If they fought, he delivered them Death. Man had learned all of their gifts and all of their tricks, and they could not stand before him.

Even when Death was delivered unto him, by the likes of Bear and Wolf, it would not stop him. From the smallest and the meekest, from Rat and Rabbit, he had learned to spread so fast and so wide that even Death could not take hold.

All animals suffered. Man had proven to be a far more terrible ruler than Tiger had ever been. And they knew that in their foolish pride, they had made him so.

When Ama awoke, it was in a much better mood than he had gone to sleep with. Making the world had been a long and tiring affair. Now, finally, he was refreshed. He lifted the mountain to see how his world had fared while he slept.

What did Ama see? He saw his sky choked with smoke, his rivers muddied with all manner of filth, his land torn open and plundered. He saw huts without number, burning in their bellies with fire stolen from his kiln.

He found the animals, saw them ringed and bridled and gelded. "What has become of you?" he asked. "What has become of my world?"

"Ama, it was Man!" they cried. "He stole our gifts and made us serve him!"

Ama laughed, but there was little mirth in it. "So he has learned your gifts, has he?" he asked. He looked out upon the works of Man. "And this is what he has done."

"Take him away, Ama," the animals cried, "Save us from Man!"

Ama looked upon them, and felt sorrow. The animals had pestered him to no end once, and he had been angry then, but he had never meant them such misery.

"I will do what I can," he said.

Ama went to his hut, then, and fed his kiln with his best coal, and soon it was cherry red and chirping from the heat. Even then he fed it, hotter and hotter until it threatened to crack.

The land began to warm. The snow melted from the mountains, and the oceans began to dry. On and on it went, hotter and hotter, until all living things were made to dance to keep from burning their feet.

And still, the heat climbed, until Man's clay huts shattered and collapsed around him. Hotter still, until his clothes burned, his metals ran and flowed, and all Man's works had come undone. Only then did Ama let the kiln cool.

Then Ama came to Man, plucking him out of the ruin of his home to hold him upon his palm. Man looked up to Ama's face and knew the god could crush him in an instant, and none of his gifts would save him.

"Unto you I gave the greatest gift," Ama said, "and with this gift you caused greater suffering than I could have imagined. You ruined my lands, poisoned my rivers, and bent my children to your will."

He drew Man up to eye level. "Now, I give you your final gift," he said. And then he lowered Man down, to stand among the animals.

"Mercy," he said. "Be sure to learn it."