Once upon a time, in ancient times, nine suns shone in the sky, and on the earth it was hot, like on a piece of hot iron. Trees and grass could not grow, crops could not sprout.
It was difficult for people to live! And then, with frowning eyebrows, they gathered for a council and began to decide how to get rid 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 advice was not bad, but where to get such huge sieves? And if they are found, how can they be raised to heaven? The people consulted and decided that this method was not suitable.
“And I believe,” said another sage, “that we should all hide underground and live there.” Then the rays of the sun will be harmless to us.
And this advice was good. But if everyone hides underground, who will then sow grain? What will people eat? No, this method doesn't work either.
And so, when they went through all the means of protection from the heat and realized that none of them were suitable, a man stood up and said:
- Does everyone know our hunter Eppulo? He is strong and shoots accurately. Let's ask him to knock nine suns out of the sky!
- Right! - the people exclaimed in one voice and immediately sent this man to the famous hunter.
Eppulo lived in a stone cave on a high mountain. He was enormous in stature, his hair stuck out on his head like thickets of bamboo, his body was as powerful as the trunk of an old tree, his eyebrows were thick and black as night, and his large round eyes shone like two lanterns.
Eppulo heard the people’s request and laughed loudly, and then answered:
- This is not an easy matter. But since everyone decided so, I agree!
He pulled his huge bow to the limit, laid eight long arrows and - coy-coy! — with a whistle, he released them one after another into the sky. Bi-li-ba-la! - thundered in the sky, and eight suns rolled down. And the surviving ninth, seeing that things were bad, hastily hid behind a high mountain.
- Ha-ha-ha! - People laughed merrily, watching the shot suns roll from the sky.
And everyone began to praise the great art of Eppulo. But while people were shouting and rejoicing, the ground suddenly became dark and cold; Without the sun's rays, trees and grass stopped growing and crops stopped sprouting. What was to be done? The people became sad, frowned, and gathered again for council. One said:
“If we managed to summon the ninth sun, which hid behind the mountain, everything would be fine!”
- But how to do this? - asked another.
- We need to send someone for him! - suggested the third.
But who could be sent? A human is no good. The sun wouldn't even listen to him now! They decided to send a bird, and one with a pleasant voice. But which bird has the sweetest voice?
The choice settled on the oriole, lark and nightingale. We started with an oriole: we asked it to fly after the sun. The oriole has always believed that it sings better than other birds.
She immediately agreed and, turning her head towards the mountains, began to sing importantly. But the sun didn't come out!
People went to the lark. He also thought that he sang quite well, at least better than the oriole! Proudly flying into the sky, the lark began his endless song. And the sun didn’t even think of appearing.
Then we went to the nightingale. He considered himself the best singer in the world. Of course, the sun cannot resist his singing! He flew up onto a tree and sang with dignity. However, the sun didn’t come out this time either! And then people remembered the rooster with its beautiful colorful feathers. Although he is not a singer at all, there is strength and cheerfulness in his voice. You should definitely ask for a rooster!
Having learned what was the matter, the rooster flapped his wings, stretched his neck, threw back his head and, turning to the mountains, howled!
The sun was sitting quietly behind the mountain when suddenly I heard a rooster crow. Although the voice was not good, there was such sincerity and cheerfulness in this voice that the sun’s heart trembled. He really wanted to know who was singing?
And when the rooster crowed three times with feeling, and his friends - small birds - picked up this victorious song, the sun could not stand it.
It forgot all its fear: one could trust such a voice!
And the first golden ray peeked out from behind the mountain. The sun has risen! The whole world has become warm and clear again!
Since then, it has become a custom: as soon as the rooster crows three times, the sun immediately comes out into the sky.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru