“Who’s there? shouted Crow. “Come out and show yourself.
The clearing was silent. Nothing moved.
“I must be hearing things, Crow said to himself. “And now I’m talking to myself too.
With a laugh, he sat down again and rested his back against the round stone.
“Shall I tell you a story? asked the deep voice again.
Crow sprang to his feet and shouted “Alright, that’s enough. Show yourself now!
Again, the clearing was silent and nothing moved.
Then Crow looked at the round stone he’d been resting against. He could see a face in it. He realised it was the stone’s voice he’d heard.
“Who are you, and what are you? asked Crow.
“I am Grandfather Stone. I’ve been here since time began, answered the stone.
“Shall I tell you a story? asked the deep rumbling voice.
“What is a story? asked Crow. “What does it mean to tell a story?
“Stories tell us of all things that happened before this time, answered Grandfather Stone. “Give me a gift of your birds a
nd I will tell you how the world came to be.
“You may have the birds, said Crow.
He sat down in front of the stone. Its deep voice told him of a time before this one, how Sky Woman fell to earth, how Turtle Island was made, and about stone giants. When he finished one story, the stone told another and then another. On and on he went.
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