Editorial 1.12, December 1999, by Deirdre Helfferich An Unkindness I was horrified to read of the slaughter (an apt term) of ravens over the past month out by the rifle range. Some twit or twerps unknown decided that live targets were more fun than a paper one, and thus turned to local wildlife for their juvenile entertainment. The reaction in the community has been pretty much unanimous: horror, disgust, and rage. I doubt that a similar massacre of another species of bird, say, pigeons or gray jays, would have stirred up quite the same intensity of response—not to say that it would not have been noticed and properly abhorred. An action such as this pretty clearly demonstrates an incapacity to feel compassion for living things, and that is a contemptible condition, as well as a potential indicator of an inability to feel compassion for human beings. And that makes for a dangerous and incomplete person. But the birds were ravens, not pigeons, and this makes it not only a federal crime but a violation of local taboo. One does not harm a raven. I know this in my bones. I can think of all the things that I like about ravens, all the times I have seen them doing something clever or exuberantly playful, the numerous demonstrations of their sense of humor, and so on, but this doesn’t quite explain why I feel so strongly about it. Ravens have got pizzazz. They have style, class, panache. They are scrappy, tough, admirable—and not what you’d call trustworthy. They persevere in the coldest weather and the harshest conditions, and they seem to have fun while doing it. They find treasures in trashbins. Their voices croak, and sing, and ring like bells. They manage to look scruffy and disreputable one moment, sleek and dapper the next. As the bird-about-town or the baron of the woods, ravens are birds you can respect. Unlike the people who shot them. Ravens know all about death. They are scavengers, and the highway system up here has provided them with the boon of roadkill. MacDonald’s has provided them with french fries. Life is good. They take the waste that the world leaves behind and convert it into the most intelligent (and witty) birds around. They are lazy, and so dead things, being easy to catch, tend to be the prey of choice, but they’ll hunt if they need to. The Norse god Odin’s two closest advisors and spies were the ravens Hugin and Mugin. Infamous in European mythology for their association with death, they have been feared and reviled in the Old World, while at the same time seen as the bearers of secret tidings and the keepers of ancient wisdom (often of an unsavory sort). A flock of them is known as an unkindness of ravens. In the New World, however, things are different. Raven was the creator of the world (or so he claims), and the oldest and best thief around (how many can claim to have stolen the Sun, the Moon, and the stars?). He’s never had a reputation for modesty, either, and is apt to make his opinion of others known by bombing them with the end results of his digestion, particularly when he’s eaten something he’s just stolen from them. But, like the other tricksters (such as Coyote or Prometheus), Raven tends to look out for human beings as well as himself, and he brought us the usual things: water, fire, light, clothes, a good yarn. He’s a liar, a clown, and a tease, and as capricious as luck can be. Here, ravens are appreciated, particularly in midwinter when it becomes important to have a little inspiration to make it through the dark months. They aren’t exactly saintly, and this makes it all the more easy to like them. This attitude is so universal among the people I know, especially those who have been here for many years, that it makes me suspect that the killers of those birds found dead on December 4th haven’t been here too long. But this is speculation. What is certain is that whoever did it has broken both written and unwritten laws and are deserving of harsh repercussions. If you know anything that could lead to the arrest and conviction of the person or persons responsible, please contact the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service at 456-0255, or the Alaska State Troopers at 451-5350, or the Alaska Wildlife Safeguard program at 1-800-478-3377. | ||
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