The Island of the Sun

There was once a farmer who had two sons. The older son was selfish and
greedy, while the younger son was kind and generous.

When the farmer died, the older brother took all of his land for himself leaving
the younger brother with nothing except a basket and a sharp knife with which
he could cut firewood.

He would go into the forest and chop wood and sell it in exchange for a little
rice in the marketplace.

He was poor. He had nothing.

One day, the young brother climbed through the forest to the top of the
mountain, and there he sat upon a rock gazing out towards the west where
the sun was setting. And as he sat there all alone he felt a rush of air from
above and he looked and there was a bright bird flying down towards him, a
huge wingspan. He felt the beating of air, the rush of air. And then it landed
next to him:

‘Why do you sit here all alone?’

‘I am poor. I have nothing.’

‘Is this true or is this false?’

‘It is true, I am poor. I have nothing.’

‘Then climb on my back,’ said the mighty bird, ‘and I will carry you to the
Island of the Sun. There you may take one piece of gold before I bring you
back.’

He climbed onto the back of the bird and the bird took off…

Away from the mountain the great bird flew.

Over the forest the great bird flew.

Over the waters the great bird flew.

To the Island of the Sun the great bird flew.

And as the bird landed, the sun set behind the island which glittered brightly,
and the boy took one piece of gold. He put it in his basket and climbed onto
the back of the great bird.

Away from the island the great bird flew.

Over the waters the great bird flew.

Over the forest the great bird flew.

Back to the mountain the great bird flew.

The young brother took that piece of gold and went down out of the forest.
And there he bought a small piece of land. And there he reared pigs, cows,
and a few hens.

He lived well. He worked hard.

But one day his older brother came.

‘Where did you find this wealth, this land?’

And the young brother told him.

‘I want this. Give me that old basket and your knife.’

And the older brother set off up through the forest. And when he came to that
mountain he sat upon a rock and waited.

After a while he felt a rush of air and a beating of wings was heard. And there,
as he gazed towards the west, towards the setting sun, a bird appeared from
its bright rays, beating its wings, coming closer. It landed next to him:

‘Why do you sit here all alone?’

‘I am poor. I have nothing.’

‘Is this true or is this false?’

‘It is true, I am poor. I have nothing. I want gold!’

‘Climb on my back,’ said the great bird. ‘I will take you to the Island of the Sun.
There you may take one piece of gold.’

Away from the mountain the great bird flew.

Over the forest the great bird flew.

Over the waters the great bird flew.

To the Island of the Sun the great bird flew.

And as it landed, the sun set behind the island. The older brother looked and
saw sparkling gold everywhere. He picked up one piece and placed it in the
basket.

‘The basket seems empty. I may as well take another.’

A second piece he placed in the basket, then a third. He continued picking up

the largest chunks of gold until the basket was completely full.

Then he turned. And as he turned he saw that the bird had flown away and
the sun was rising. He stood there and was burned to a crisp.

The young brother inherited his older brother’s land. He tended the land well
and with love. And what he produced he shared with others of the community.
A YOUNG woodcutter named Taro lived with his mother and father on a lonely hillside. All
day long he chopped wood in the forest. Though he worked very hard, he earned very little
money. This made him sad, for he was a thoughtful son and wanted to give his old parents
everything they needed.

One evening, when Taro and his parents were sitting in a corner of their hut, a strong wind
began to blow. It whistled through the cracks of the hut and everyone felt very cold.
Suddenly Taro’s father said, “I wish I had a cup of sake. It would warm me and do my old
heart good."

This made Taro sadder than ever, for the heart-warming drink called saké was very
expensive. ‘How do I earn more money?’ he asked himself. ‘How do I get a little saké for
my poor old father?’ He decided to work harder than before.

Next morning, Taro jumped out of bed earlier than usual and made his way to the forest. He
chopped and cut, chopped and cut as the sun climbed and soon he was so warm that he
had to take off his jacket. His mouth was dry and his face was wet with sweat. ‘My poor old
father!’ he thought. ‘If only he was as warm as I!’

And with that he began to chop even faster, thinking of the extra money he must earn to
buy the saké to warm the old man’s bones.

Then suddenly Taro stopped chopping. What was that sound he heard? Could it be…. could
it possibly be rushing water?

Taro could not remember ever seeing or hearing a rushing stream in that part of the forest.
He was thirsty. The axe dropped out of his hands and he ran in the direction of the sound.

Taro saw a beautiful little waterfall hidden behind a rock. Kneeling at a place where the
water flowed quietly, he cupped a little in his hands and put it to his lips. Was it water? Or
was it saké? He tasted it again and again and always it was the delicious saké instead of
cold water.

Taro quickly filled the pitcher he had with him and hurried home. The old man was delighted
with the saké. After only one swallow of the liquid he stopped shivering and did a little
dance in the middle of the floor.
That afternoon a neighbour stopped by for a visit. Taro’s father politely offered her a cup of
the saké. The lady drank it greedily and thanked the old man. Then Taro told her the story
of the magic waterfall. Thanking them for the delicious drink, she left in a hurry. By nightfall
she had spread the story throughout the whole village.

That evening there was a long procession of visitors to the woodcutter’s house. Each man
heard the story of the waterfall and took a sip of the saké. In less than an hour the pitcher
was empty.

Next morning, Taro started for work even earlier than the morning before. He carried with
him the largest pitcher he owned, for he intended first of all to go to the waterfall. When he
reached it, he found to his great surprise all his neighbours there. They were carrying
pitchers, jars, buckets — anything they could find to hold the magic saké. Then one villager
knelt and held his mouth under the waterfall to drink. He drank again and again and then
shouted angrily, “Water! Nothing but water!" Others also tried. But there was no saké, only
cold water.

“We have been tricked!" shouted the villagers. “Where is Taro? Let us drown him in this
waterfall." But Taro had been wise enough to slip behind a rock when he saw how things
were going. He was nowhere to be found.

Muttering their anger and disappointment, the villagers left the place one by one. Taro came
out from his hiding place. Was it true, he wondered? Was the saké a dream? Once more he
caught a little liquid in his hand and put it to his lips. It was the same fine saké. To the
thoughtful son, the magic waterfall gave the delicious saké. To everyone else, it gave only
cold water.

The story of Taro and his magic waterfall reached the Emperor of Japan. He sent for the
young woodcutter and rewarded him with twenty pieces of gold for having been so good
and kind. Then he named the most beautiful fountain in the city after Taro. This, said the
Emperor, was to encourage all children to honor and obey their parents.
THERE once lived a bird and her two new-born babies in a forest. They had a nest in a tall,
shady tree and there the mother bird took care of her little ones day and night.

One day, there was a big storm. There was thunder, lightning and rain and the wind blew
down many trees. The tall tree in which the birds lived also came down. A big, heavy branch
hit the nest and killed the bird. Fortunately for the baby birds, the strong wind blew them
away to the other side of the forest. One of them came down near a cave where a gang of
robbers lived. The other landed outside a rishi’s ashram a little distance away.

Days passed and the baby birds became big birds. One day, the king of the country came to
the forest to hunt. He saw a deer and rode after it. It ran deep into the forest followed by
the king. Soon the king lost his way and didn’t know where he was.

He rode on for a long time till he came to the other side of the forest. Very tired by now, he
got off his horse and sat down under a tree that stood near a cave. Suddenly he heard a
voice cry out, “Quick! Hurry up! There’s someone under the tree. Come and take his jewels
and his horse. Hurry or else he’ll slip away." The king was amazed. He looked up and saw a
big, brown bird on the tree under which he was sitting. He also heard faint noises issuing
from the cave. He quickly got on to his horse and rode away as fast as he could.

Soon, he came to a clearing which looked like an ashram. It was the rishi’s ashram. The
king tied his horse to a tree and sat down in its shade. Suddenly he heard a gentle voice
announce, “Welcome to the ashram, Sir. Please go inside and rest. The rishi will be back
soon. There’s some cold water in the pot. Please make yourself comfortable." The king
looked up and saw a big, brown bird in the tree. He was amazed. ‘This one looks like the
other bird outside the cave,’ he said to himself aloud.

“You are right, Sir," answered the bird. “He is my brother but he has made friends with
robbers. He now talks as they do. He doesn’t talk to me any more." Just then the rishi
entered the ashram.

“Welcome, Sir," he said to the king. “Please come inside and make yourself at home. You
look tired. Rest for a while. Then you can share my food."

The king told the rishi the story of the two birds and how each had behaved so differently
though they looked so alike. “The forest is full of surprises," he said.

The holy man smiled and said, “After all, one is known by the company one keeps. That bird
has always heard the talk of robbers. He imitates them and talks about robbing people. This
one has repeated what he has always heard. He welcomes people to the ashram. Now,
come inside and rest. I’ll tell you more about this place and these birds."