II.

When Nahl Bo heard of the wonderful change taking place at his

brother's establishment, he went himself to look into the matter. He

found the report not exaggerated, and began to upbraid his brother

with dishonest methods, which accusation the brother stoutly denied,

and further demanded where, and of whom, he could steal a house,

such rich garments, fine furniture, and have it removed in a day

to the site of his former hovel. Nahl Bo demanded an explanation,

and Hyung Bo frankly told him how he had saved the bird from the

snake and had bound up its broken limbs, so that it recovered; how

the bird in return brought him a seed engraved with gold characters,

instructing him how to plant and rear it; and how, having done so,

the four gourds were born on the stalk, and from them, on ripening,

had appeared these rich gifts. The ill-favored brother even then

persisted in his charges, and in a gruff, ugly manner accused Hyung Bo

of being worse than a thief in keeping all these fine goods, instead

of dutifully sharing them with his elder brother. This insinuation

of undutiful conduct really annoyed Hyung Bo, who, in his kindness

of heart, forgave this unbrotherly senior, his former ill conduct,

and thinking only of his own present good fortune, he kindly bestowed

considerable gifts upon the undeserving brother, and doubtless would

have done more but that the covetous man espyed the fair maiden, and at

once insisted on having her. This was too much even for the patient

Hyung Bo, who refused with a determination remarkable for him. A

quarrel ensued, during which the elder brother took his departure in

a rage, fully determined to use the secret of his brother's success

for all it was worth in securing rich gifts for himself.

Going home he struck at all the birds he could see, and ordered his

servants to do the same. After killing many, he succeeded in catching

one, and, breaking its legs, he took fish-skin and bound them up in

splints, laying the little sufferer in a warm place, till it recovered

and flew away, bandages and all. The result was as expected. The bird

being questioned by the bird king concerning its crooked legs, related

its story, dwelling, however, on the man's cruelty in killing so many

birds and then breaking its own legs. The king understood thoroughly,

and gave the little cripple a seed to present to the wicked man on

its return in the spring.

Springtime came, and one day, as Nahl Bo was sitting cross-legged

in the little room opening on the veranda off his court, he heard a

familiar bird-song. Dropping his long pipe, he threw open the paper

windows, and there, sure enough, sat a crooked-legged bird on the

clothes line, bearing a seed in its mouth. Nahl Bo would let no one

touch it, but as the bird dropped the seed and flew away, he jumped

out so eagerly that he forgot to slip his shoes on, and got his clean

white stockings all befouled. He secured the seed, however, and felt

that his fortune was made. He planted it carefully, as directed,

and gave it his personal attention.

The vines were most luxurious. They grew with great rapidity,

till they had well nigh covered the whole of his large house

and out-buildings. Instead of one gourd, or even four, as in the

brother's case, the new vines bore twelve gourds, which grew and grew

till the great beams of his house fairly groaned under their weight,

and he had to block them in place to keep them from rolling off the

roofs. He had to hire men to guard them carefully, for now that the

source of Hyung Bo's riches was understood, every one was anxious

for a gourd. They did not know the secret, however, which Nahl Bo

concealed through selfishness, and Hyung through fear that every one

would take to killing and maiming birds as his wicked brother had done.

Maintaining a guard was expensive, and the plant so loosened the roof

tiles, by the tendrils searching for earth and moisture in the great

layer of clay under the tiles, that the rainy season made great havoc

with his house. Large portions of plaster from the inside fell upon the

paper ceilings, which in turn gave way, letting the dirty water drip

into the rooms, and making the house almost uninhabitable. At last,

however, the plants could do no more harm; the frost had come, the

vines had shrivelled away, and the enormous ripe gourds were carefully

lowered, amid the yelling of a score of coolies, as each seemed to get

in the others' way trying to manipulate the ropes and poles with which

the gourds were let down to the ground. Once inside the court, and the

great doors locked, Nahl Bo felt relieved, and shutting out every one

but a carpenter and his assistant, he prepared for the great surprise

which he knew must await him, in spite of his most vivid dreams.

The carpenter insisted upon the enormous sum of 1,000 cash for

opening each gourd, and as he was too impatient to await the arrival

of another, and as he expected to be of princely wealth in a few

moments, Nahl Bo agreed to the exorbitant price. Whereupon, carefully

bracing a gourd, the men began sawing it through. It seemed a long

time before the gourd fell in halves. When it did, out came a party

of rope-dancers, such as perform at fairs and public places. Nahl Bo

was unprepared for any such surprise as this, and fancied it must

be some great mistake. They sang and danced about as well as the

crowded condition of the court would allow, and the family looked on

complacently, supposing that the band had been sent to celebrate their

coming good fortune. But Nahl Bo soon had enough of this. He wanted

to get at his riches, and seeing that the actors were about to stretch

their ropes for a more extensive performance, he ordered them to cease

and take their departure. To his amazement, however, they refused to

do this, until he had paid them 5,000 cash for their trouble. "You

sent for us and we came," said the leader. "Now pay us, or we will

live with you till you do." There was no help for it, and with great

reluctance and some foreboding, he gave them the money and dismissed

them. Then Nahl Bo turned to the carpenter, who chanced to be a man

with an ugly visage, made uglier by a great hare-lip. "You," he said,

"are the cause of all this. Before you entered this court these gourds

were filled with gold, and your ugly face has changed it to beggars."

Number two was opened with no better results, for out came a body of

Buddhist priests, begging for their temple, and promising many sons

in return for offerings of suitable merit. Although disgusted beyond

measure, Nahl Bo still had faith in the gourds, and to get rid of the

priests, lest they should see his riches, he gave them also 5,000 cash.

As soon as the priests were gone, gourd number three was opened,

with still poorer results, for out came a procession of paid mourners

followed by a corpse borne by bearers. The mourners wept as loudly

as possible, and all was in a perfect uproar. When ordered to go,

the mourners declared they must have money for mourning, and to pay

for burying the body. Seeing no possible help for it, 5,000 cash was

finally given them, and they went out with the bier. Then Nahl Bo's

wife came into the court, and began to abuse the hare-lipped man for

bringing upon them all this trouble. Whereupon the latter became angry

and demanded his money that he might leave. They had no intention

of giving up the search as yet, however, and, as it was too late to

change carpenters, the ugly fellow was paid for the work already done,

and given an advance on that yet remaining. He therefore set to work

upon the fourth gourd, which Nahl Bo watched with feverish anxiety.

From this one there came a band of gee sang, or dancing girls. There

was one woman from each province, and each had her song and dance. One

sang of the yang wang, or wind god; another of the wang jay, or

pan deity; one sang of the sung jee, or money that is placed as a

christening on the roof tree of every house. There was the cuckoo

song. The song of the ancient tree that has lived so long that its

heart is dead and gone, leaving but a hollow space, yet the leaves

spring forth every spring-tide. The song of laughter and mourning,

with an injunction to see to it that the rice offering be made to the

departed spirits. To the king of the sun and stars a song was sung. And

last of all, one votary sang of the twelve months that make the year,

the twelve hours that make the day, the thirty days that make the

month, and of the new year's birth, as the old year dies, taking with

it their ills to be buried in the past, and reminding all people to

celebrate the New Year holidays by donning clean clothes and feasting

on good food, that the following year may be to them one of plenty and

prosperity. Having finished their songs and their graceful posturing

and waving of their gay silk banners, the gee sang demanded their pay,

which had to be given them, reducing the family wealth 5,000 cash more.

The wife now tried to persuade Nahl Bo to stop and not open more,

but the hare-lip man offered to open the next for 500 cash, as he was

secretly enjoying the sport. So the fifth was opened a little, when a

yellow-looking substance was seen inside, which was taken to be gold,

and they hurriedly opened it completely. But instead of gold, out

came an acrobatic pair,--being a strong man with a youth dressed to

represent a girl. The man danced about, holding his young companion

balanced upon his shoulders, singing meanwhile a song of an ancient

king, whose riotous living was so distasteful to his subjects that

he built him a cavernous palace, the floor of which was covered with

quicksilver, the walls were decorated with jewels, and myriad lamps

turned the darkness into day. Here were to be found the choicest

viands and wines, with bands of music to entertain the feasters:

most beautiful women; and he enjoyed himself most luxuriously until

his enemy, learning the secret, threw open the cavern to the light

of day, when all of the beautiful women immediately disappeared in

the sun's rays.

Before he could get these people to discontinue their performance,

Nahl Bo had to give them also 5,000 cash. Yet in spite of all his

ill luck, he decided to open another. Which being done, a jester

came forth, demanding the expense money for his long journey. This

was finally given him, for Nahl Bo had hit upon what he deemed a

clever expedient. He took the wise fool aside, and asked him to use

his wisdom in pointing out to him which of these gourds contained

gold. Whereupon the jester looked wise, tapped several gourds, and

motioned to each one as being filled with gold.

The seventh was therefore opened, and a lot of yamen runners came

forth, followed by an official. Nahl Bo tried to run from what he

knew must mean an exorbitant "squeeze," but he was caught and beaten

for his indiscretion. The official called for his valise, and took

from it a paper, which his secretary read, announcing that Nahl

Bo was the serf of this lord and must hereafter pay to him a heavy

tribute. At this they groaned in their hearts, and the wife declared

that even now the money was all gone, even to the last cash, while

the rabble which had collected had stolen nearly every thing worth

removing. Yet the officer's servants demanded pay for their services,

and they had to be given a note secured on the property before they

would leave. Matters were now so serious that they could not be made

much worse, and it was decided to open each remaining gourd, that if

there were any gold they might have it.

When the next one was opened a bevy of moo tang women (soothsayers)

came forth, offering to drive away the spirit of disease and restore

the sick to health. They arranged their banners for their usual

dancing ceremony, brought forth their drums, with which to exorcise

the demons, and called for rice to offer to the spirits and clothes

to burn for the spirits' apparel.

"Get out!" roared Nahl Bo. "I am not sick except for the visitation of

such as yourselves, who are forever burdening the poor, and demanding

pay for your supposed services. Away with you, and befool some other

pah sak ye (eight month's man--fool) if you can. I want none of

your services."

They were no easier to drive away, however, than were the other

annoying visitors that had come with his supposed good fortune. He

had finally to pay them as he had the others; and dejectedly he sat,

scarcely noticing the opening of the ninth gourd.

The latter proved to contain a juggler, and the exasperated Nahl Bo,

seeing but one small man, determined to make short work of him. Seizing

him by his topknot of hair, he was about to drag him to the door, when

the dexterous fellow, catching his tormentor by the thighs, threw him

headlong over his own back, nearly breaking his neck, and causing him

to lie stunned for a time, while the expert bound him hand and foot,

and stood him on his head, so that the wife was glad to pay the fellow

and dismiss him ere the life should be departed from her lord.

On opening the tenth a party of blind men came out, picking their

way with their long sticks, while their sightless orbs were raised

towards the unseen heavens. They offered to tell the fortunes of the

family. But, while their services might have been demanded earlier,

the case was now too desperate for any such help. The old men tinkled

their little bells, and chanted some poetry addressed to the four

good spirits stationed at the four corners of the earth, where they

patiently stand bearing the world upon their shoulders; and to the

distant heavens that arch over and fold the earth in their embrace,

where the two meet at the far horizon (as pictured in the Korean

flag). The blind men threw their dice, and, fearing lest they should

prophesy death, Nahl Bo quickly paid and dismissed them.

The next gourd was opened but a trifle, that they might first determine

as to the wisdom of letting out its contents. Before they could

determine, however, a voice like thunder was heard from within, and

the huge form of a giant arose, splitting open the gourd as he came

forth. In his anger he seized poor Nahl Bo and tossed him upon his

shoulders as though he would carry him away. Whereupon the wife plead

with tears for his release, and gladly gave an order for the amount

of the ransom. After which the monster allowed the frightened man to

fall to the ground, nearly breaking his aching bones in the fall.

The carpenter did not relish the sport any longer; it seemed to be

getting entirely too dangerous. He thereupon demanded the balance of

his pay, which they finally agreed to give him, providing he would

open the last remaining gourd. For the desperate people hoped to

find this at least in sufficient condition that they might cook or

make soup of it, since they had no food left at all and no money,

while the other gourds were so spoiled by the tramping of the feet

of their unbidden guests, as to be totally unfit for food.

The man did as requested, but had only sawed a very little when the

gourd split open as though it were rotten, while a most awful stench

arose, driving every one from the premises. This was followed by a gale

of wind, so severe as to destroy the buildings, which, in falling,

took fire from the kang, and while the once prosperous man looked

on in helpless misery, the last of his remaining property was swept

forever from him.

The seed that had brought prosperity to his honest, deserving brother

had turned prosperity into ruin to the cruel, covetous Nahl Bo, who

now had to subsist upon the charity of his kind brother, whom he had

formerly treated so cruelly.

Korean Tales Being a collection of stories translated from the Korean folk lore, together with introductory chapters descriptive of Korea · 第 28 / 36 题