Long long ago, before my grandmother’s time and even before her grandmothers, before the lands themselves had fallen into slumber, there was only the Sun high in the sky, alone on her endless journey across the great dome. This is a tale of how the First Moon came to be, and why it follows always in the Sun’s wake. Sit down now, and listen to how things came to be.

In those days there lived a jackrabbit, who was known to be fleet of foot. Many had come to challenge him, but he had proved the fastest of all the creatures on the Isles. He reveled in racing across the land, and he had the habit of rising every morning to stretch his legs in the quiet before dawn. He had noticed the Sun as it rose across the sky, and felt a kinship with her; just as he sped across the desert, so too did she speed across the sky. And so every day before dawn he climbed to the ridge above the camp in which he lived to wait, silent in anticipation. For the moment the Sun rose in her fiery glory to touch the ridgeline with warmth he was off, speeding down the slope and out across the valley floor. Dust billowing in his wake, he ran, ran as fast as he could, trying to reach the other side of the valley before the sunlight could reach it.

Of course he never won, for what mortal could speed faster across the land than the Sun itself? Yet still he ran, again and again, and every morning the rest of his band would hear the clatter of his footfalls far off against the valley floor. And they came to him in confusion, asking him why he did this thing, that seemed so fruitless to them. The Sun always won, would always win, and after all she rose every day. Why did he pay her such a mind as he did?

The jackrabbit tried to explain many times how he felt, that he had seen the Sun in the sky and thought that she seemed all alone in the vast blue of its dome. He spoke of how he wanted to be connected with her, and that he rose each morning to see her and to give her the same cheer and warmth that she gave to the earth. Yet however many times he explained this, the other creatures of his band only shook their heads and muttered and asked the same questions over, until the jackrabbit learned to only shrug, and say that it was his way. And so the days passed, and the jackrabbit was content, until there came a morning where the sun did not appear.

The jackrabbit had climbed to the ridge, waiting quietly in the stillness before the day began. And he waited, and he waited, but the Sun did not appear. There was not even a glow on the horizon, nothing to mark that her arrival was soon to come. The other stars shone high above, but the land was cloaked in twilight, and a chill settled into the bones of the jackrabbit. After some time he descended once more, calling out to rouse the camp, telling them that the sun had not appeared. The other creatures were gripped by fear, and they howled and wailed in despair. How would they live, how would their crops sprout and grow, without the Sun’s light and warmth? What would they do?

It was the jackrabbit who rose up once more, and said that he would find the Sun. And the other creatures scoffed and said that he had never won his races against her, so what hope did he have of finding her now? Still he was determined, and set off into the gray twilight of the darkened world.

The place where the jackrabbit lived with his band was already in the south of things, and so he ran south first, his feet falling lightly across the rocks and dunes under the dark sky. Faster he ran, faster than he had ever run before, until the land ran out and he was prancing across the top of the sea itself, and he came to the uttermost bottom of the world. Here his speed roused the South Wind from its bed, arising and stretching vast wings. “Who is this, who has disturbed me from my nap?” he rumbled with the voice of thunderstorms.

The jackrabbit begged the Wind’s favor, and said, “Great Southern Wind, I seek the Sun, for she has not appeared today for our race.”

“Mortal, who are you to race the Sun herself? She is not here, nor have I seen her but in passing. Perhaps he is with our sister the West Wind. Go now, and leave the matters of gods to themselves.” With that, the South Wind furled his wings and returned to slumber, and the jackrabbit raced on.

He rushed away to the West, where the Sun went away to rest at the end of each day. The sea spread out below him like dark glass, and he danced across its surface leaving ripples with each foot-fall. His dance brought the West Wind from its lodge, and it swirled about him in loops and giddy spiral. “Mortal!” she cried playfully, “Your form and movements are quite pleasing, and we have not had the pleasure of dancing with you before! Who are you, and where do you rush off to so rapidly?”

“Great Wind of the West, I seek the Sun,” he said, “for each day she and I would race, but today she did not appear.”

“Each and every day?” The West Wind shrugged, and laughed outright. “How dreadfully boring! Come, stay here with me, and we shall play much more interesting games! The Sun can take care of herself, and my brother would do well to remember it.” Her laughter was like rippling waves. “He seeks to prove some thing or other, I am sure; after all, I showed that he is not the only one who can bring change. But enough chattering, let us dance instead!” The jackrabbit shook his head however, and off he went, leaving the West Wind to her revels.

Next he ran to the east, and the sound of his feet striking upon the waves of the sea tinkled like bells. A crooning joined in, weaving among the notes, and then the East Wind was there gliding alongside the jackrabbit as he galloped. “Mortal creature,” she said soft as rushes in the evening breeze, “why have you come to me, in my home in the east?”

“Great Wind, I have come seeking the Sun. Each morning we would race together, but today she did not appear,” said the jackrabbit in return.

“Is this twilight across the world not pleasing?” the East Wind asked in reply, and fixed him with a piercing stare. “Who are you, that you would seek to change it?”

“A friend,” said the jackrabbit. At this the East Wind laughed long and low, the sound eerie under the dark clouds and sky.

“Then I will tell you a secret, friend of the Sun,” she said, and perched upon the jackrabbit’s back to whisper close into his ear. “My brother in his jealousy has taken her for a prisoner, far away to the cold north. He seeks a bride to rival our brother to the south, spurred on by the needling of our sister wind, who causes trouble.” Her grin was sly, relishing the gossip. “This I know, for I heard our brother’s mutterings yester-eve. But you have little hope of freeing her from him, for speed of foot alone will not be enough. Now go!” She cried the last words aloud, and the startled jackrabbit took off like a bolt, the East Wind’s eerie laugh drifting along behind him.

And so at last the jackrabbit came to the cold north, and there at the top of the world the seas froze to ice, and all became featureless darkness and snow. The jackrabbit feared that he might get lost, but just then he spied a light, far off in the distance. He sped towards it, but just as he drew close it winked out again, and he stumbled as darkness closed in.

He trotted off a ways and waited, and soon the light appeared again. Once more he ran towards it, and again it winked out just as he got close. A third time, and the jackrabbit raced with all his might. Still he was too slow, but this time he caught a glimpse of a scene beyond the light; a roaring hearth, where the Sun sat kneading dough and chopping vegetables. The light shone from her and from the hearth, out through the door that was opening and closing to make the light appear.

It was indeed the door to the North Wind’s lodge, for the jackrabbit had seen the tips of his tail feathers as the door was shut, and now as he waited in the cold the door opened once more, and he saw the great wings spread as the North Wind swept out. The jackrabbit rushed forward, hoping to catch the Wind by surprise, but it wheeled around with all the swiftness of biting, frozen chill to beat him to the door once more. He heard a laugh on the breeze, a cutting chuckle that sent shivers down his back.

“Too slow!” the North Wind called, and slammed the door shut.

The jackrabbit loped off, defeat hanging heavy on his brow. He spied the North Wind again, leaving the lodge and taking wing. This time he stopped, hearing the words of the East Wind in his heart. The North Wind rushed across the ice like a gale, crossing and criss-crossing in search of whoever lurked in the night. The jackrabbit huddled close in his hiding place, and the Wind did not spot him.

The North Wind, content that he was alone, soared to an enormous pile of firewood, sheltered beneath a roof of frosted slates that gleamed in the light from the door. The jackrabbit waited and watched, and an idea came to his mind. As the North Wind returned to the lodge with the wood, the jackrabbit raced forward to the pile, and used his claws to pry loose one of the slates. It was made of obsidian glass, and even in the pitch blackness it seemed to shine. The jackrabbit marveled at it for a moment, but the sound of the door opening sent him dashing to his hiding place.

As the North Wind once again flew to the woodpile to collect more logs for the hearth, the jackrabbit raised up the slate on his back, such that the light from the doorway was caught in its surface, and reflected out into the gloom. He sent the light out across the barren snow, and the North Wind raised its long neck to stare at it with beady eyes. He called out to it, mistaking it for the Sun. “My gentle maiden, do you leave so soon? Come now, you must stay a while longer, and finish cooking for me!” And off it went in pursuit of the light.

Seeing his chance, the jackrabbit sprang forward, kicking up a plume of snow as he ran for the door. The North Wind turned about, realizing the trick as the light was snatched away, but too late! The jackrabbit tumbled through the door ahead of him, and locked it fast with the Wind still outside.

He turned around to behold the Sun, smiling pleasantly at him from her place at the hearth. The light of the flames flickered across her, and within her, until she glowed with radiance both from within and without. The jackrabbit knelt, awed, and said, “Honored Sun, you may not know me, but I have come far and far again to find you, and now I would free you from this lodge.”

The Sun beamed down at him, “My dear jackrabbit, of course I know you. I look down over all the Isles, in my daily travels, and see and love each and every creature upon them. But most especially did I look to spot you each day, and our racing brought joy and mirth to me, and made me feel a measure of my own warmth returned by another.”

“How did you come to be trapped here?” asked the jackrabbit. “Surely the North Wind is not so powerful that it can take you away against your will.”

“It is not,” the Sun replied. “I was tricked by the North Wind, who said the Winds had come together to sit in council and needed my wisdom to guide them further. When I stepped into this lodge, the Wind shut the door, and so I was trapped. She rose then, her bare feet searing the dirt of the lodge floor. “But we must find a way to leave quickly, for I fear what the North Wind may do, if he were to find you here.”

Even as she spoke, the frame of the lodge whipped and groaned as all about rose a great rushing and roaring, growing loud and louder as the North Wind raged against the walls. The door clattered in its frame, and the jackrabbit glanced all about the lodge, searching for a way that they could escape. His eyes landed upon a drill hung in the corner, and seizing it he looked up to the roof above them. It was high, higher than the Sun could reach, but with a great bound the jackrabbit soared up, working quickly to begin a hole before he fell back down. Another jump, another flash of work, and the hole grew deeper. The walls shook, and the jackrabbit leapt again and again. His legs began to burn from it, but still he continued working, racing to finish. Just as the door was flung open and the North Wind piled into the hut, the jackrabbit leapt for the last time, and the drill punched through! The jackrabbit’s leap carried him out through the roof of the lodge, tumbling back to the ground.

The Sun rose, as she always had, up up up into the sky with a shout of joy and the light of dawn racing out across the land. The North Wind hissed in fury, grasping at the Sun’s heels, but she was too quick for him. Thwarted, the Wind turned upon the jackrabbit, storm cloud grip reaching, but the jackrabbit gathered his legs beneath him and jumped high, higher than he had ever before, racing after the Sun into the brightening day above.

And to this day he has remained there, racing the Sun across the sky, the gleaming slate on his back reflecting her light down to the Isles even when she has gone to rest for the evening, and welcoming her anew each morning. Her steadfast companion, he who we call the Leaping Moon chases the Sun each day. And if he never wins, well, he seems content, and so shall we be.

Such is the way of it!