ONCE UPON A TIME there was a poor bird catcher who trapped birds in the wooded hills around Selçuk.  One day all he caught was a single, bedraggled crow.  As he was boiling water to stew the bird, it suddenly spoke. 

 

"If you set me free," the crow said, "I will help you catch a bird that will be so valuable you will never go hungry again."

 

"Do you take me for a fool?" the bird catcher replied.  "You'll just fly away and I'll never see you again."

 

"But can you be sure?" responded the crow, "Isn't it worth risking one sorry meal against the possibility that you will never go hungry again?"

 

So the bird catcher opened the cage and the crow flew away.

 

Days went by and his traps remained as empty as ever.  Then one day, when he was least expecting it, he found a most marvelous bird in his trap.

 

"O Crow!" he cried in delight as the bird alighted on a nearby rock, "How could I ever have doubted you?  I will take this bird into Selçuk and the pasha will reward me beyond my wildest dreams!"

 

And indeed the pasha was so enchanted with the beautiful bird that he eagerly granted the bird catcher his wish that he be invited to dine at the pasha's own table for the rest of his life.

 

Unfortunately for the bird catcher, the pasha's vizir was by nature a jealous man.  Envious of the bird catcher's good fortune, the vizir set about to poison the pasha's mind against him.

 

"Sire," he confided to his master one day, "Surely it has not escaped you attention that this supposedly marvelous bird never sings.  That bird catcher has sold you defective goods.  He's taking you for a fool!"

 

"But what can I do?  My word is my bond--and I have offered him the hospitality of my table for the rest of his life."

 

"True," replied the vizir, "But it is equally true that the length of that life lies in your hands.  Order this miserable scoundrel to make your bird sing.  If he fails to do so, no one would blame you should you strike off his head with your own hand."

 

So it came to pass that the following evening, at the end of a most sumptuous feast, the pasha informed his unfortunate guest that, the following morning, he expected his bird to greet the new day with song, as all respectable birds do.

 

"Else I shall sever your head from your torso with my own scimitar, by God!"

 

Alone in the tower where the pasha kept his precious bird, with two powerful guards outside its single door, the bird catcher tried everything he could think of to coax the caged bird to sing, but not a single "peep" did it utter.

 

"Woe is me!" he cried out in dismay as the sky outside begin to lighten, "What wouldn't I give to have my old life back.  I'd be hungry, but at least I'd be alive!"

 

At this the crow flew into the room and lit on the cage.

 

"Wretched fowl!  Here's what comes from trusting in the advice of a crow!"

 

"Why blame me?" asked the crow.  "I fulfilled my promise, even though it seemed fantastic at the time.  Trust me again, and perhaps I can save you again."

 

So the bird catcher, at his wits end, heard the crow out.  And although his new advice seemed as foolish as his original had...well, the crow had been right before, so perhaps he might be right again.  Besides, what had he to lose?

 

Just before dawn the pasha and his retinue, including his sword-bearer and his bright-eyed vizir, entered the room in the tower where the bird catcher, the crow by his side, waited with the caged bird.

 

"Well, bird catcher, will my bird sing for me when the sun rises?"

 

"It will," the bird catcher replied, "Under one condition."

 

"No conditions!" hissed the vizir, scenting victory.

 

"Why not?" countered the bird catcher.  "Hear me out, my lord--what have you to lose?"

 

"Why not indeed," agreed the pasha.  "State your conditions, bird catcher, but be brief."

 

"I will, my lord, but first I must relate the circumstances under which I came upon this wondrous bird in the first place."  He then told of how the crow had convinced him to release him, and how the crow's promise, unbelievable as it was, in fact came true.  "Now, this same crow assures me that if you wish this bird to sing, you too must first set it free."

 

"That's true," said the crow, "If I do not speak the truth, .may my life be forfeit as well."

 

"Witchcraft!" gasped the vizir.

 

"Perhaps," mused the pasha, "But if this crow can talk, perhaps there is something to what he says."

 

"It's a trick!"  cried the vizir.  "The bird will fly away and you will be left with nothing."

 

"If so," the crow replied, "You will be spared any further expense on the account of the bird.  True, the bird will have flown, but as a wise judge, you must agree that it would be unjust for you to continue to enjoy the bird without paying the price you had agreed was just.  However, if I am right, think how much more you will enjoy your purchase, at no extra price."

 

"Well," asked the pasha, turning to his vizir, "What do you think?" 

 

Think as he could, the vizir could not see any way to contradict the bird's logic without impugning the pasha's reputation for justice.  So he just shrugged--it mattered not to him whether the bird escaped--either way the bird catcher (and now that insolent crow!) were certainly not long for this world!

 

With that the pasha ordered the cage to be opened.  Immediately the bird flew for the opening but the instant it passed out of the cage--it turned into a beautiful woman. 

 

To the pasha, she seemed the most wonderful woman he'd ever seen or could ever imagine seeing.  Immediately he fell to his knees and, with no further thought, begged her to be his wife, so greatly was he smitten with her beauty.  And without hesitation, she accepted. 

 

"Now that I have found you your ideal husband, as you commanded," the crow said, breaking the silence, "Will you restore me to my original form?"

 

"Of course, my faithful servant!"  And with that she turned the crow back into her beautiful maid servant.  Now it was the bird catcher's turn to gasp at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

 

"Marry me," he pleaded.  But the maiden hesitated.

 

"I'm not so sure I like being a human again.  I quite liked being a crow, free to soar through the skies.  If I were to ask to be changed back, would you still love me, even if I were still a crow."

 

"Yes, yes," the bird catcher replied.  "But only if I can go with you and we can fly across the skies together."

 

So her former mistress granted her wish and they sailed off together, happy as only two birds in love can be.

 

As for the vizir, the pasha's new wife changed him into a stork and assigned him the task of annually flying to those warm regions where young souls incubate, to select the most delightful of them to grace the nursery of her nursery each spring.  And so, in this form, he and his decedents have served the people of Selçuk, well and faithfully, from that time to this.