Part 3 (1/2)

The Fatherless Birds

A mother bird sat brooding on her nest. Her heart was sad, for her mate had flown away in the morning and had not returned. When the little ones stirred and clamored for food, with drooping wings she flew in quest of it that they might not hunger.

Day after day her heart grew sadder, for her mate came not, and alone she struggled to provide for her fledglings.

When the little birds had grown strong and were able to fly, sorrow and heart hunger had so weakened the mother bird that she lay dying. The little birds crowded about her asking what they could do to aid her, and with her dying breath she cried, ”Call, oh, call your father.”

The little birds, flying low over the plains, cried, ”Paw huey, paw huey,” and children, left alone in their homes, while their parents labor in the rice fields, hearing the wail of the birds, wept, crying too, ”Paw huey, maa huey.”[8]

Never has the father bird been found, and, to this day, flying low over the plains, the little birds cry, in their plaintive voices, ”Paw huey, paw huey,” and lonely children echo, ”Paw huey, maa huey.”

8: Paw huey--Oh, father! Maa huey--Oh, mother!

IV Romance and Tragedy

The Lovers' Leap

Many, many years ago there lived, on the mountains among the rapids of the Maa Ping, a young man who loved a maiden and the maiden loved him truly, but her father refused his consent to their union and commanded that his daughter see her lover no more, nor hold communication with him. At all times and in all ways the father of the maiden endeavored to overcome her regard for her lover, but she would think of no other, although many came to woo her.

Often did the young lovers seek to meet, but so constantly were they watched it was impossible and they could only wait patiently. Each knew the other was true and each heart rested in this a.s.surance.

And upon a time the father of the maiden thought she had forgotten her lover, and, greatly rejoiced, he made a feast and invited all the people of the province to come and make merry with him, and he reasoned, ”Now that she has forgotten her former lover, will she not consent to marry a man I choose for her?”

While they were feasting the maiden wandered out to think of the one she had not seen for so long and weary a time, and, suddenly, the dark evening became to her as the bright noonday, for her lover was before her. He entreated her to come with him and to be his wife. Thinking of the dreary days she had pa.s.sed and the more dreary ones to come, should she see her heart's choice no more, she consented. As they were mounting his strong, young horse, a servant saw them and ran to the house and gave the alarm. Soon the father and all the men were in pursuit of the lovers. For a time the young horse kept far ahead of its pursuers, but, wearying of its double burden, it began to lag just as it reached the top of a lofty hill overhanging a rus.h.i.+ng torrent of the river far below.

Nearer and nearer came the father and all the men. The only escape, and a most desperate venture was it, was to leap across the rus.h.i.+ng torrent to the hill on the other side. Looking into each other's eyes, then back at their approaching pursuers, and then at the wide chasm, they chose death together rather than life apart, and, urging their jaded horse to the leap, they missed the opposite cliff and were dashed to pieces on the rocks of the rapids below.

The Faithful Husband[9]

Upon a day in years long since gone by, Chow[10] Soo Tome, wearied of the talking of his slaves, wandered into the forest. As he walked in an unfrequented path, he came to a lake where seven beautiful winged nymphs were disporting themselves in the water. One, Chow Soo Tome readily saw was more beautiful than the others, and he loved her and desired her for his wife. On seeing the Chow, however, they all fled, but the most beautiful one permitted herself to be overtaken.

”When I saw thee, my heart was filled with love for thee. If thou dost not consent to be my wife, of sorrow will I die,” cried Chow Soo Tome.

”Easily could I have escaped, had not love for thee made me loath to leave thee,” replied the nymph. And in great joy they returned to the Chow's home.

”My son, let me take the wings of thy wife, lest she fly and leave thee in sorrow,” urged the Chow's mother, and, readily did the nymph wife lay aside her wings.

But it happened that the head chow heard of the beauty of the wife of Chow Soo Tome, and he coveted her, and seeking to do away with Chow Soo Tome, he sent him to war, and commanded that he lead the battle.

The young nymph wife knew the design of the head chow, and, as soon as her husband had gone, she sought her mother-in-law and begged that she give her back her wings.

”I am filled with sorrow. Without Soo Tome I cannot remain in the house.

Give me my wings that I may fly in the air and be comforted,” pled the wife.

”Consent that I tie a rope to thy feet. Then, I will give thee the wings,” answered Soo Tome's mother.

The young wife consented, but, having donned her wings and flown up in the air, she cut the rope fastened to her feet and was safe from the head chow's pursuit. Her freedom made her think of the home of her father in the kingdom of Chom Kow Kilat,[11] and thither she flew.