Why the Sun Rises When the Rooster Crows

Once upon a time, in ancient days, nine suns shone in the sky, and the earth was as hot as a piece of red-hot iron. Trees and grass could not grow, and crops could not sprout.

Life was hard for the people! Frowning, they gathered for a council to decide how to rid themselves of the nine suns. One wise man said:

"I think we should cover each sun with a large sieve. Then it won’t be so hot."

Everyone agreed that the idea was not bad, but where could they find such enormous sieves? And even if they found them, how would they lift them to the sky? After discussing it, the people decided that this method would not work.

"I believe," another wise man began, "that we should all hide underground and live there. Then the sun’s rays won’t harm us."

This advice was also good. But if everyone hid underground, who would sow the crops? What would people eat? No, this method wouldn’t work either.

And so, when they had considered all possible ways to protect themselves from the heat and realized that none of them would work, a man stood up and said:

"Everyone knows our hunter Eppulo, right? He is strong and an excellent shot. Let’s ask him to shoot down the nine suns from the sky!"

"True!" the people exclaimed in unison and immediately sent the man to the famous hunter.

Eppulo lived in a stone cave on a high mountain. He was of enormous stature, with hair sticking up like bamboo thickets, a body as mighty as the trunk of an old tree, thick black eyebrows like the night, and large round eyes that shone like two lanterns.

When Eppulo heard the people’s request, he laughed loudly and then replied:

"This is no easy task. But since everyone has decided—I agree!"

He drew his enormous bow to its full extent, loaded eight long arrows, and—whoosh!—he shot them one after another into the sky. Bang-bang! Thunder rumbled in the sky, and eight suns tumbled down. The ninth sun, seeing the danger, quickly hid behind a high mountain.

"Ha-ha-ha!" the people laughed joyfully as they watched the shot-down suns fall from the sky.

And everyone praised Eppulo’s great skill. But while the people cheered and rejoiced, the earth suddenly became dark and cold. Without the sun’s rays, trees and grass stopped growing, and crops ceased to sprout. What were they to do? The people grew sad, frowned, and gathered for another council. One said:

"If we could call the ninth sun, which hid behind the mountain, everything would be fine!"

"But how can we do that?" asked another.

"We need to send someone to fetch it!" suggested a third.

But who could they send? A human—no, that wouldn’t work. The sun wouldn’t listen to a human now! They decided to send a bird, one with a pleasant voice. But which bird had the most pleasant voice?

The choice fell on the oriole, the lark, and the nightingale. They started with the oriole: they asked it to fly and fetch the sun. The oriole always believed it sang better than any other bird.

It agreed at once and, turning its head toward the mountains, began to sing proudly. But the sun did not come out!

The people went to the lark. It also thought it sang quite well, at least better than the oriole! Proudly soaring into the sky, the lark began its endless song. But the sun still did not appear.

Then they went to the nightingale. It considered itself the best singer in the world. Surely, the sun wouldn’t resist its song! It fluttered onto a tree and began to sing with dignity. Yet again, the sun did not come out!

And then the people remembered the rooster with its beautiful, colorful feathers. Though it was no singer, its voice had strength and vigor. They absolutely had to ask the rooster!

Learning of the task, the rooster flapped its wings, stretched its neck, tilted its head back, and, turning toward the mountains, let out a mighty crow!

The sun sat quietly behind the mountain when it suddenly heard the rooster’s cry. Though the voice wasn’t particularly beautiful, there was such sincerity and vigor in it that the sun’s heart trembled. It really wanted to know who was singing!

And when the rooster crowed three times with feeling, and its little bird friends joined in the triumphant song, the sun could not resist.

It forgot all its fear: such a voice could be trusted!

And the first golden ray peeked out from behind the mountain. The sun rose! Once again, the world became warm and bright!

And so it has been ever since: as soon as the rooster crows three times—the sun immediately rises into the sky.

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Why the Sun Rises When the Rooster Crows

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