The White Rooster

In the shade of a mountain, by the side of a calm lake, surrounded by all the beauty and lovliness of nature, stood a small house. It was like a tiny jewel set between mountain and lake, nestling in the subtle green and brown shades of the grass and trees. This spot was one of the prizes of nature, showing in its character all the temperment of the seasons: the calm laziness of summer, reflecting hazy shadows in the mirror-like lake; the mellow thoughtfulness of Autumn, when the trees come to rest, dropping their leaves and yawning in anticipation of winter's sleep; the cruel beating of winter as it wages war with weapons of snow, ice, and wind, finally resting to view the conquered land, lying silently beneath a gentle cover of snow; and beneath this the earth nurtures the fresh youth of spring, waiting to stretch its arms and meet the new dawn of life. The little house saw the passing of the seasons, spring following winter, autumn following summer; the lake gazed at the mountain; and the mountain, in all its magnificent glory, looked protectively down onto the little house and the lake as a father regards his children, offering shelter and comfort.

The people who lived in the house also reflected the seasons. The mother, widowed, in the winter of her years, had known the joys of youth, of falling in love, of giving birth to three daughters, and now she wished only for their future happiness. The eldest daughter, Pema, possessed a deep, haunting beauty, her eyes reflecting the burnished riches of deep autumn gold. The second daughter, Tsokyi, was like the summer, warm and beautiful, with a gaiety that surrounded her life with laughter and contented happiness. The family was poor, but this did not worry the second daughter, for she delighted in the simplicity of life and found joy in the meanest of tasks. The youngest daughter, Dekyi, was like the spring, fresh, innocent, and full of youthful energy, but unlike her second sister, she worried about her family's future, and dreamed of the day when they would all be rich and prosperous. So lived the family, in the little house, on the edge of a lake, overlooked by the snow-topped mountain.

Each day, in turn, one of the daughters would go out with the small herd of yaks to graze them on a nearby pasture, while the other girls stayed at home to help their mother churn milk, roast barley, and attend to all the household chores. The herd of yaks was the family's only valuble possession. They milked the yaks to make butter and cheese; butter was used to fuel the lamps that illumined the home, and was also added to tea mixed with salt, thereby making a thick, soup-like liquid that was both refreshing and nourishing to drink. Butter and cheese could also be traded for other essentials such as barley, salt, and household items. So the herd of yaks was most important to the family's well-being, and the daughters looked after them with much love and care.

One day, while Pema was out with the herd in the pasture, she became distracted by a loud crowing noise in the distance. As this was most unusual in such a remote spot, the girl left the herd to investigate the noise, but before she had gone very far, the noise stopped. Thinking that it was all in her imagination Pema returned to the meadow only to find, to her horror, that her yaks had disappeared! Feeling most distressed she searched high and low for the herd, but nowhere could they be found, nor could she hear the familiar lowing sound that the animals made. Thinking that they must have roamed farther afield, the girl began to widen her area of search, walking in unfamiliar surroundings but all to no avail.

Just as she was about to return home to break the news to her family, Pema spied, set in the side of a rock by a narrow, rough hewn path, a tiny red door. She walked up to the door and listened carefully, pressing her ear to the narrow gap of an opening. No sound came from within, so she pushed the door open just a crack, and looked inside. What she saw made her gasp in wonderment, for there, on the walls of the cave, were many precious jewels. Turquoise, amber, and emeralds glinted in the shaft of sunlight that entered the cave through the open door. Just as she was about to reach out and touch the large chunk of turquoise before her, she froze with fear, as a loud crowing noise echoed through the cave, rebounding off the low walls, then finally dying into a ghostly whisper.

When the noise stopped, Pema turned to look further into the cave. She sqinted her eyes in the dimness, and could just make out a large brocade-covered throne at the end of the cave, and above the throne, encrusted with more jewels, hung a beautiful canopy. The girl moved toward the throne, and as she did so she saw, hidden by the shadow of the canopy, a large white rooster. The rooster scratched his feet on the velvet cushion which was supporting him, yawned, cocked his head from side to side and moved forward a little so that the girl could now see him quite clearly.

"Hello," the rooster said in dulcet tones.Pema was so astounded at the sight of a white rooster sitting on a throne that she was not at all surprised to find that he could also talk! "Hello," she replied. Neither spoke for some minutes, both just looked at each other, each waiting for the other tostrike up a conversation. Finally, the rooster spoke again. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

Pema proceeded to tell him of her awful predicament, how she had heard his crowing and had left her herd to investigate, only to find them gone when she returned to the meadow. "Perhaps you can help me find them," she said thinking this was no ordinary rooster. "I can certainly help you find your herd," said the rooster, "but what will I get in return for my help?"

Pema was silent for awhile, and then she replied, telling the rooster that she came from a very poor family and could not offer gold or jewels, but would give them anything they owned if it would be of use. "Very well," the rooster said. "I will help you find the herd if you will consent to be my wife - you are not without beauty and I am sure you will make a good wife." Pema was dumb-struck; be the wife of a rooster, was his mind crazed!" "I can do no such thing," she blurted, "I cannot marry a bird." "But I am no ordinary bird," the rooster said, "I will make you very happy."

The girl pleaded with the roosterbut he still insisted that if she wished him to help her find her yaks, she must consent to be his wife, and the more the girl reasoned, the more stubborn the bird became, until, weary with pleading, Pema left the cave and made her way to home to tell her family the news.

When she reached home, she fell into her mother's arms, burst into tears, and told of the lost herd and the strange rooster. The other daughters gathered round to try and comfort her, but the evening was spent in despair as they all tried to think of a solution to their problem. Finally, it was decided that the next day Tsokyi would go out to look for the yaks, and if she could not find them, she too would approach the rooster and beg for his help. But as darkness descended, enveloping the house in blackness, the weight of unhappiness fell heavily upon their hearts and sleep proved an impossible release from the problem.

Next morning, instead of greeting the day with happy anticipation, the family went about their tasks with little ease. Tsokyi took leave of her family, forcing a smile and trying to console them with the fact that she would soon be home with the herd. "Do not worry," she said. "The rooster will see reason; he will not be without compassion for a poor family." But even as she spoke a cloud covered the sun, casting deep gloom over the house and surrounding countryside.

Tsokyi followed her sister's footsteps of the previous day, searching the pasture land, listening for the sound of the herd in hope that she would find them before reaching the little red door set in the side of the rock. But no herd appeared, and no sound reached her ears, it was as if the herd had disappeared from the face of the earth. There was nothing to do but visit the rooster, so Tsokyi, following her sister's instructions, made her way to the cave where he lived. Soon she found the door, tapped gently, and entered. The rooster was clearly visible on his throne at the end of the cave, and he continued to peck corn from a small silver bowl as he beckoned her to come forward by raising and waving one of his large pink legs. Such a strange sight made Tsokyi feel rather apprehensive, but very slowly and cautiously she moved toward the throne.

"Are you the rooster who spoke to my sister yesterday?" she asked. "If it was about the herd of yaks, yes I am." the rooster replied. "I have come to ask you to help us find the herd." said the girl, and she stared at the rooster with an unmoving gaze. The rooster frowned, wrinkling the small feathers on his forehead, shifted himself uncomfortably on his velvet cushion, then met the girl's unwavering gaze with his own small steely eyes. "Will you be my wife?" the bird asked. Though secretly he thought he could not abide living with such a person who could look into the very soul of a being, he turned his eyes from hers and waited for the girl to answer.

"No, I will not be your wife, the thought is absurd." Tsokyi answered. "But I do ask you to show mercy to a poor unhappy family." The rooster watched the girl for a few minutes, shook his head, and said, "No wife, no yaks, and that is the end of the matter! I will not budge." The girl could see that her argument was useless, he was just a stubborn, willful rooster and he was not going to be easily persuaded. "Very well then," she said, "if you will not help us find the herd I will take some of your jewels instead."

So saying, Tsokyi reached out and snatched a large chunk of amber which rested on a rock by her feet. Just as she touched it, a flash like lightning filled the cave, and when it subsided the jewels, the throne and the rooster had disappeared! Feeling wretched, Tsokyi made her way back to the little house where her family was waiting to hear the news.

That night, her mother's heart was full of fear. They might never see their yaks again, and that would mean certain starvation for the family.

Taking her youngest daughter's hand in her own, the old woman stroked the young flesh gently and asked Dekyi to visit the rooster the next day.

"You are as young as springtime," the old woman said to her daughter. "The rooster cannot refuse to help you, you are our last chance." The youngest daughter agreed to go and try to reason with the rooster, but in her heat she knew that her chances of persuading him to help them were not good. "If my two elder sisters failed," she thought, "I do not think the rooster will listen to me."

Next day, as Dekyi said goodbye to her family, the sun was shining on the mountain peak, making the snow appear red as fire. The mountain reflected in the lake, and the lake appeared to swallow the whole mountain. "So great is the lakes love for the mountain," Dekyi thought, "it sees its changing faces, smiles with it, cries with it, reflecting in its own depths every changing mood of the mighty mountain. If the lake can swallow the mountain," thought the girl, "then my heart is not too small to accept all the sorrow of my mother and sisters. I must do what is best for them." Thinking this she made her way to the cave to confront the rooster.

On reaching the door she knocked gently, but as no answer came from within the cave, she pulled open the door and entered. It was just as her sisters had described, the precious jewels, the richly decorated throne, and on the throne, sitting erect and looking tremendously large, was the white rooster. "You have come about the yaks," the rooster said, and the girl noticed that his voice was beautiful and melodious. "Yes," the girl replied, "I have come about the herd." "Well, you no doubt know the terms," the bird whispered, leaning over to the side of the throne until his beak almost touched Dekyi's ear. "Only if you will be my wife will I help you to find the herd."

The girl lowered her gaze and replied, "Well, if those are your terms, I have no choice but to accept them, my family will starve without the yaks." As she spoke two large tears fell from her eyes and rested on her youth-fresh cheeks. "More precious than all these jewels," said the rooster casting his eyes around the cave, "are your two crystal tears, for they are given out of true love for your family; you will indeed make a worthy wife."

Following the rooster's instructions, Dekyi found her herd. She was so delighted to see them again that she forgot her sorrow and ran to them, hugging and calling each of them by name; then she led them home to her anxiously waiting family.

On reaching home, Dekyi remembered her promise and began to make ready to leave the family she loved and go to live with the strange rooster. The mother was distressed when she learned of her daughter's sacrifice, and begged her not to leave. Pema pleaded with Dekyi, saying that she would go in her place, and Tsokyi did likewise. But Dekyi refused there offers of help saying, "He is not a bad rooster really, he is kind I am sure, and has a soft voice which is like music to the ears; I will be well cared for. And so saying she bade farewell to her weeping mother and two sisters. As she left Dekyi did not look back at the family, nor did she glance at the mountain and lake, for tears were in hereyes and she did not wish to show her distress.

Sometime later, in a nearby town, the people were making ready for the annual horse races.This was a big event, and was attended by people from all the surrounding villages who came to see the country's most skilled horsemen perform feats of courage and endurance. It was also a time for merry-making and celebration and everyone revelled in the spirit of carnival time. The women dressed in their finest clothes, displaying their wealth by the amount of turquoise and coral in their elaborate headresses, and the men tried to outdo their friends in games of archery, tests of strength and dice playing. Soon, the big day arrived, tents were erected, feasts were prepared, and everybody gathered, determined to enjoy themselves. One young woman stood out from the rest of the crowd. She was so stunningly beautiful, so expensively dressed, that the other women gazed at her in envy. One woman even ventured to remark that she looked very much like the youngest daughter of the widow who lived by the lake, and on closer examination they found that it was indeed her. Much conversation surrounded her appearence. "She must have made a good match in marriage," the women agreed, but they all wondered why she attended the races alone, for every day the girl would turn up without a husband.

During the races there was one horse that far outclassed the others. He was most unusual, being an almost ice-blue color, and his rider was by far the most dashing of young men to compete in the events. Every day this unusual horse and rider were champions of the races, and every day both would disappear, never to be seen feasting and enjoying the festivities. Dekyi, too, wondered about this handsome young man, for she noticed that he always sought her gaze and smiled at her after winning a race.

On the last day of the festival, Dekyi offered to walk part of the way home with an old woman and so she left the races early. As they walked the old woman asked the girl about her marriage, and why her husband did not accompany her to the races. Dekyi told the woman how she had become the wife of a large white rooster to save her family from starvation, and how her husband had persuaded her to attend the races even though he did not want to go. The old woman sympathized with the girl, telling her that she must not worry. "Do not be misled by appearences," she said, "for things are not always what they seem." Dekyi felt comforted by the old woman's words, and after seeing her safely to her house she made her way back to the cave.

On reaching the cave she looked for her husband, but he was nowhere to be seen. Dekyi went outside and called to him, but no answer came. Finally she decided to give up her search, thinking that he must have attended the races after all, and she went back into the cave to await his arrival. Just as she was about to reach for the large teapot on the wrought-iron brazier, Dekyi noticed a white skin lying on the floor in front of the fire. She stooped to pick it up and was horrified to discover that it was the skin of her husband, the rooster. Dekyi sat down and the events of the last few days passed through her mind. The dashing young man on the strange blue horse who always disappeared at the end of the races, the old woman telling her that things are not always what they seem, and the way the young man looked at her, with a look that was so familiar! Siezing the skin, she threw it into the fire, and watched as the flames consumed every part of it. "My husband is the young man on the blue horse," she whispered to herself, "Now that I have burned the rooster's skin we can live properly as man and wife."

When the skin was nothing but ashes, and the flames of the fire flickered and began to die, Dekyi went outside to fetch more fuel. She heard the galloping of horses hooves in the distance and stood waiting for a glimpse of the rider. It was just as she had thought: the ice-blue horse came galloping at high speed down the narrow path with the young man looking flushed and excited on his back. He stopped outside the cave, and when he saw Dekyi standing there he immediately ran inside. "What have you done with my skin?" he shouted as he ran back out again. "I have burnt it," the girl replied. "Now we can live together as man and wife, and I will not have to live in shame of being married to a rooster." The young man looked dismayed. "You have made a big mistake, my wife," he said. "While I am able to return and live in the skin of the rooster I am safe and have good fortune, but without my skin I will become a slave of the demons."

His words frightened the young girl. "Why do you have to live in the skin?" she asked. The young man told her how he had become wealthy and lived in peace only by agreeing to become a slave to the demons. When he had rebelled and refused to be their slave the demons sentenced him to life as a rooster. He could only leave his skin for a few days each year, and if he did not return to it the demons would come and take him away.

"Husband, what can I do?" asked Dekyi. "There must be some way of stopping the demons from taking you." But the young man told her there was only one way to prevent the demons from coming. If she could sit by the door with a candle, day and night for a whole week, so heating the door to keep the demons from entering, then he would be free. Dekyi agreed to do this, and so she sat, day and night, night and day, forcing herself to stay awake so that the demons could not enter. On the last day, unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she fell asleep. The candle she was holding dropped to the floor and went out before her husband could reach it.

When Dekyi awoke her husband was gone, and she knew that the demons had taken him away. Feeling sad, she went into mourning for her husband. "He must surely be dead," she told herself. "The demons will not have had mercy on him." She continued to live in the cave, feeling that since she had been the cause of her husband's death it was only right that she should pay penance for her foolish deed.

One day, while she was out walking, Dekyi came upon a man carrying wood. When she got closer to him she recognized him as her husband. She ran into his arms, thankful that he was alive. The husband told her that he was now a slave of the demons and he could never return to her, but that she was not to worry for he was well. Then he persuaded her to go home to her family and take with her all the precious jewels that were in the cave. Dekyi returned home to her mother and two sisters. They were overjoyed to see her again, and with the jewels she was able to provide them with a life of luxury in which they would never want for anything.

And again the lake smiled at the mountain, and the mountain looked protectively down on the happy little house beside the calm mirror-like lake.