Legend of Lieng Nung Falls

That dry season, the whole highland country of the Mạ dried out until the earth cracked. The sun baked the ground from morning to evening. Forest leaves curled and fell, the small streams ran dry, and the hillside fields wilted. Even old forest trees stood dead in the noonday heat. Yet in the middle of that scorching sun, one sound of water never stopped.

It was the sound of Liêng Nung Falls.

The Mạ of N'riêng village still tell this story to their grandchildren by the fire, and the elders insist that it be told correctly. The Mạ are one of the ethnic groups of Vietnam, living mainly in Lâm Đồng and neighboring provinces. When the whole region had not a drop of water left, only the Liêng Nung kept pouring, white with foam, from a high rock wall into a cool ravine. It was the last water of the whole dry season. Villagers carried gourds out to the falls in their back baskets and brought water home to drink and cook. Herds of buffalo and goats followed the sound of the water to find it. One small waterfall kept people and animals alive through the harshest days.

The keeper of that precious water was a young man named K'Ẹ. He was strong, his feet used to climbing rocks and his hands to clearing forest, and he loved the village like his own home. Every day, K'Ẹ went out to the falls. He kept the water's path to the village open and scooped dry leaves out of the troughs. He made sure everyone got a fair share, and never let the strong take everything from the weak. The longer the dry season lasted, the less he slept. All he wanted was for that last stream of water to be enough for everyone.

One day, K'Ẹ was walking the familiar trail to the falls when he stopped short. At the foot of a dead tree, a young woman lay collapsed on the ground. Her lips were cracked, and her breath was so faint she seemed about to slip away from thirst. Without a thought, he gently lifted her and carried her straight to the Liêng Nung. He scooped up cool water and gave it to her in small sips, slowly and patiently, the way one coaxes a seedling about to wither.

Then something wondrous happened. The water of the falls did more than revive the young woman. It seemed to make her new. Her pale face glowed with life, her eyes turned clear and bright, and she grew fresh and unusually beautiful. She sat up and looked at the waterfall, then at the young man who had saved her. Softly, she said her name was H'Dệt.

H'Dệt stayed in the village. She and K'Ẹ fell in love and married. From the day she arrived, the little village seemed warmer. The couple worked hard in their fields, the rice and corn grew green, and life slowly became more comfortable. H'Dệt was also wonderfully skilled with her hands. She knew how to brew fragrant wine with yeast. She could weave strong, handsome cloth at the loom. She could split fine strips and plait them into carrying baskets and round baskets. She gladly showed every skill to the other women of the village, so that everyone could learn a craft to support a family. Before long, two fine baby boys were born, named K'Pên and K'Peo. Watching the little ones grow up beside the falls, K'Ẹ felt his heart was full.

But the Mạ say that some beautiful things in this world stay only for a while. One morning, H'Dệt went to bathe at the falls as usual. The water still fell and the forest birds still sang, but this time she did not come back. K'Ẹ and the two boys searched all along the edge of the forest. They called for wife and mother until their voices broke. When they ran to the foot of the falls, a voice rose from the white water, warm and far away. It told them that H'Dệt had been a fairy all along. Giàng had loved the Mạ and sent her down to earth. She had come to help the village keep its water and keep its people alive through hard times. Now her time on earth was complete, and she had to return to the sky.

The Mạ believe in Giàng, and they received those words with sorrow and gratitude together. K'Ẹ and his sons did not blame the heavens, nor did they resent anyone. Day after day, the three of them went out to the falls. They stood quietly by the water, hoping to see her just once more. But only the steady sound of the water answered. Knowing they could never see H'Dệt again, the father and sons loved each other all the more. They worked harder, and cared for the falls and the land she had given so much of herself to.

The two little boys, K'Pên and K'Peo, grew into steady young men. They married and had children. From those roots grew three villages. One is N'riêng. The other two are Bu Sốp and Ting Wel Đơm. The three stand close together like three brothers. In good seasons they laugh together, and in hard seasons they share every basket of rice. To this day, the three villages are still there. Their people still look after one another like children of one family, just as H'Dệt once hoped.

For generations, the Mạ have said with pride that however harsh the dry season, Liêng Nung Falls have never once run dry. They keep falling, as if remembering a promise to feed the village. Standing by the white falls in the old forest, listening a while to the long ring of the water, one understands why the Mạ love Liêng Nung so dearly. And in that sound, a voice still seems to linger. She went back to the sky long ago, yet she has never truly left this village.