A tale of Men, from the Rohirrim.

~~~

The people of the Éothéod along the Great River tell of their forebears, tending their herds and fields on the eaves of the forest.  There often came Béma the Hunter, on his steed Nahar, riding with his hounds, meeting ever and anon with the leaders of the people.

Now the stallion Nahar was in all ways superior to their horses, being wiser and larger and more fleet.  Therefore did the chiefs press Béma to allow Nahar to stand stud to their mares, which he ever refused.

Once, when they were thus speaking, a raven happened to be in the tree under which they sat.  The raven laughed to think of tricking the god to the benefit of the people.

The raven sought out the leaders and said, "Tomorrow, bring your best mare, but don't let Béma see her.  Instead, picket her just over the hill, upwind of Béma's camp, and say nothing to him."

The chieftains considered this, discussing it into the night, for they did not know how much to trust the raven.  In the end, they did as the raven had said, bringing the best mare in season, a tall and clever gray, around the camp and beyond a hill.

Béma had become in the habit of picketing Nahar when he visited the horse-people, knowing that Nahar had no objection to their mares, and would forget his duty in dalliance.  As Béma made camp for the evening, building the fire and settling the hounds, a great cloud of ravens swooped down, spreading confusion and scattering the hounds.  One raven bit the picket-line, and Nahar, having caught the scent of the mare, lost no time in following it over the hill to her.  Béma did not notice his absence for some time, as the ravens continued whirling about the camp, calling and squabbling and stirring up leaves and dust.

Nahar galloped straight to the mare, and together they ran far into the night, away from Béma and the gray mare's handler.  The stallion returned with the coming of day, looking pleased with himself, but the mare returned to the herds unseen.

During the following spring, the gray mare foaled, producing an uncommonly large and quick filly, to the delight of the horse-herders.

Some years later, Béma traveled that way again during spring, and again the raven instructed the people to bring a mare around upwind of his camp.  They sent with the handler a round and spirited black mare to the vale behind the hill.

Béma, concerned that Nahar might again escape and wander off, took the extra precaution of blindfolding him, before sitting down for the evening to tend his weapons.  Soon, a flock of ravens flew down, teasing the hounds and calling them rude names, playing with their tails and pulling their ears.  Béma tried shooing them away, but they just laughed and flew back again.

In the confusion, one of them quietly pulled the blindfold from Nahar's eyes, telling him to step softly away from the camp, and over the hill to the mare.  This the stallion did immediately, drawing the mare away across the grassland with him.
Just as before, Nahar returned with the day, and the mare produced a fine, sturdy colt the next spring.

Many years passed before Béma next returned, for time and the gods are but passing acquaintances.  The new leaders had never met him or seen Nahar, though they knew the tale of the ravens and the mares.  Indeed, one day soon, again came the raven, instructing them as before.  Immediately, the people chose a strong and wise chestnut mare for the handler to bring close to the camp.

That evening, Béma and Nahar and the hounds camped hard by the forest edge.  Béma had lit the fire, and was settling for the night when the sounds of boars nearby came from under the trees.  The hounds wasted no time in giving chase, with Béma following close behind, but leaving Nahar behind.  One raven circled back from those leading the hounds on a wild run through the trees, leaving the others to lure them farther away, for the boar-voices were naught but clever ravens.  Once again Nahar was quickly freed to hasten the other way, toward the waiting mare.

Béma and the hounds returned by morning after a fruitless chase through the woods after unseen, uncaught prey, to find the placid stallion grazing by the cold campfire.  Béma met with the leaders of the people, pleased they no longer pressed him to let Nahar stand as stud.  He stayed a while, and moved on through the fields and forests of Middle-earth.

The chestnut mare produced a fine filly some months later.  The people of the horse, through the years, bred ever stronger, faster, and wiser beasts from those sired by Nahar, producing the breed now known as Mearas.

The raven laughed for many years after, full of satisfaction at tricking the god.

End