No bird is more common in Korea than the magpie. They are numbered by
millions. Every day in the year, except the seventh day of the seventh
month, the air is full of them. On that date, however, they have a
standing engagement every year. They are all expected to be away from
streets and houses, for every well-bred magpie is then far up in the
sky building a bridge across the River of Stars, called the Milky Way.
With their wings for the cables, and their heads to form the floor of
the bridge, they make a pathway for lovers on either side of the Silver
Stream.
Boys and girls are usually very kind to the magpies, but if a single
one be found about the houses, on the roofs, or in the streets on the
seventh of August, woe betide it! Every dirty-faced brat throws sticks
or stones at the poor creature, for not being about its business of
bridge-building across the Starry River. By evening time the magpies
return to their usual places, for they are then supposed to have
attended to their tasks and built the bridge.
To prove beyond a doubt that the bridge was made and walked over, you
have only to look at the bare heads of the magpies at this time. Their
feathers have been entirely worn off by the tramping of the crowd of
retainers who follow the Prince of Star Land across the bridge to meet
his bride.
If it be wet weather on the morning of this day of the Weaver Maiden
and the Cattle Prince, the rain-drops are the tears of joy shed by the
lovers at their first meeting. If showers fall in the afternoon, they
are the tears of sadness at saying farewell, when the prince and
princess leave each other. If any thunder is heard, every boy and girl
knows that this comes from the rumble of the wagons which carry the
baggage of the prince and princess, as they move away, each from the
other, homeward.
Now, this is the story which the Korean mothers tell to their children
of the Bridge of Birds.
Long, long ago, in the Kingdom of the Stars, a king reigned who had a
lovely daughter. Besides being the most beautiful to behold, she was a
skilful weaver. There was no good thing to be done in the palace, but
she could do it. She was not only highly accomplished, but of sweet
temper and very willing. Being a model of all diligence, she was very
greatly beloved of her parents and her influence over her father was
very great. He would do almost anything to please his darling daughter.
In due time a young and very handsome prince, who lived in Star Land,
came to her father’s court and fell in love with the pretty princess.
Her parents consenting, the wedding was celebrated with great splendor.
Now that she was a wife and had a home of her own to care for, she
became all the more a model of lovely womanhood and an example to all
the maidens of Korea forever. Besides showing diligence in the care of
clothes and food and in setting her servants a good example of thrift,
she thought much of their happiness. Her service to her husband was
unremitting. Her chief ambition was to make his life one of constant
joy.
But the prince, instead of following his bride’s good example, and of
appreciating what his beautiful and unselfish bride was doing for his
happiness, gave himself up to waste and extravagance. He became lazy
and dissipated. Neglecting his duties, he wasted his own fortune and
his wife’s dowry. He sold all his oxen and calves to get money only to
lose it in gambling. He borrowed many and long ropes of coin from any
one who would lend him the brass and iron money. Finally he was so
scandalously poor, being on his last string of cash, that he was in
danger of being degraded from his rank as prince, and of having his
name spoken with contempt.
The King of the Stars, having seen his son-in-law on the downward way,
had more than once threatened to disinherit, or banish him, especially
after the prince had parted with his cattle. Yet when his daughter, the
young wife, interceded and begged pardon for her husband, the king
relented, paid his son-in-law’s debts and gave him another chance to do
better. When, however, the worthless fellow fell back into his old
ways, and grew worse and worse, the king resolved to separate the pair,
one from the other. He banished the prince, far, far away, six months’
distance from the north side of the River of Heaven, and exiled the
princess a half year’s measure of space from the south side of the
Starry Stream.
Although the king in his wrath had hardened his heart, even against his
own beloved child, and had driven her from court and palace, because of
her worthless husband, yet, as a signal proof of his compassion, he
ordained that on one night of the year, on the seventh night of the
seventh moon, they might meet for a few hours.
The young people parted and took their sad journey to the edge of the
starry heavens, but they loved each other so dearly that, as soon as
they arrived at their place of banishment, they turned round to meet
each other on August 7th.
So when the day came, after six months’ weary journeying, they had
reached the edge of the Starry River, and there they stood, catching
glimpses and waving their hands, but unable to get closer to each
other. There one may see them on summer nights shining on opposite
sides of the broad Stream of Stars, loving each other but unable to
cross.
Feeling that the great gulf of space could not be spanned, the loving
couple burst into tears. The flood from their eyes, making the river
overflow, deluged the earth below, threatening to float everything,
houses, people, animals away. What could be done?
The four-footed creatures, fish and fowls, held a convention, but it
was agreed that only those birds with strong wings and able to fly high
could do anything. So the magpies, with many flattering speeches, were
commended to the enterprise.
When these noisy and chattering creatures, that are nevertheless so
kind and friendly to the sparrows, heard of the lovers’ troubles aloft,
they resolved to help the sorrowing pair over the River of Stars. Out
of their big, ugly nests they flew gladly to the convention that voted
to build the bridge. Sending out word all over the world, millions of
magpies assembled in the air. Under the direction of their wisest
chiefs, they began their work of making, with a mass of wings, a flying
bridge that would reach from shore to shore of the Starry Stream.
First, they put their heads together to furnish a floor, and, so
closely, that the bridge looked as if it were paved with white granite.
Then with their pinions they held up the great arch and highway, over
which the prince crossed to his bride with all his baggage and train of
followers. The tables were soon spread and the two royal lovers enjoyed
a feast, with many tender words and caresses.
Every year, for ages past, on the seventh day of the seventh month, the
magpies have done this. Indeed, although the star lovers meet only once
a year, yet as they live on forever the wife has her husband and the
husband his wife much longer than mortal couples who live on earth. It
is law in the magpie kingdom that no bird can shirk this work.
Any magpie that tries to get out of the task and that is too bad or
lazy to do its part in bridge building, is chased away by the Korean
children, who want no such truant around. For does not every girl hope
to be as diligent and accomplished as the Star Princess, so that when
she grows up she may make as good a wife as the lovely lady that every
year stands by the Starry River to meet her lord? As for the boys, it
is hoped that they will become as faithful husbands as the penitent
bridegroom, who every year, on the night of August 7th, awaits his
bride on the shining shore of the River of Stars.