The Chicken and the Duck

Early this morning, while the sky was still dark and faces were hard to make out, a rooster somewhere must have stretched out its neck and crowed, loud and long. That sound wakes a whole village to greet a new day. Out in a garden, a hen may be sitting fluffed up on a nest of eggs. Strangely, a few of those eggs are big and round and look nothing like a hen's eggs. They are duck eggs. The Tày tell a gentle story about why the rooster crows at dawn every day, and why the hen so patiently warms a duck's big round eggs as well. The Tày are a people of northern Vietnam.

The story goes that when heaven and earth were still new, all the creatures were born one after another and came to live near people. Only two animals were born in a very lonely place. They were a chicken and a duck. They hatched on a small, bare island in the middle of the open sea. There was not a single person on the island, and no other animal at all. There was only the chicken, the duck, the waves lapping all around, and the wind blowing hard day and night.

The chicken and the duck grew up together there. In the mornings they looked for food together, and at night they huddled under the same bush, out of the wind. The two were very close, as close as brothers in one family.

One day, Heaven called down to every creature to go and live on the mainland, near people, where life would be merrier and food easier to find. The chicken and the duck were overjoyed. But when they looked around them, both of them drooped. All around their tiny island lay the sea. It was wide and deep blue, stretching as far as the eye could see. To reach the mainland, they would have to cross it. The duck was a fine swimmer, but the chicken could not swim at all.

The chicken stood sadly at the water's edge, gazing at the distant shore. Its legs trembled. The moment its toes brushed a wave, it snatched them back. The chicken thought to itself that it would surely have to stay on this island all alone.

Seeing its friend so sad, the duck swam close and spoke gently.

"Don't worry. We have lived together all this time, and I could never bear to leave you here alone. You can't swim, so I will carry you across the sea on my back."

The chicken's eyes filled with tears. Carrying a friend across a whole wide sea was no easy thing. The chicken felt for the duck and all that hard work ahead, and said:

"You are so good to me. Then let me promise you three things. I will do those three things all my life to repay you."

The duck laughed and said that friends who help each other need no repaying. But the chicken insisted on making its promise. This is what it promised.

"First, every night at midnight, I will call you awake to lay your eggs, so you don't sleep too soundly and forget."

"Second, at first light I will crow as loud as I can, so it rings out everywhere. I will wake you, wake the people, and wake every creature, so no one oversleeps and wastes a day."

"And third, you are busy all day swimming and finding food in the water, and you can never sit still in one place for long. So let me sit on your eggs for you. I will keep them warm until the day they hatch into a flock of ducklings."

The duck heard those three warm promises and was happier than words could say. So the two friends got ready to set off.

The duck pressed itself low on the water to make a steady seat. The chicken stepped lightly onto its friend's back and stood very still and quiet, tucking itself in small to be less of a load. Then the duck gave a soft kick and swam out to sea, parting the waves.

It was a long trip. The duck swam day after day and night after night. By day, sunlight sparkled on the sea. By night, the moon and stars lit the way across the waves. The duck kept paddling quietly, carrying its friend along. Whenever the duck grew tired, the chicken softly cheered it on and told it stories to make the long way pass. And the chicken stood very lightly on its friend's back, never daring to move much, for fear of tiring the duck even more.

Over those many days and nights at sea, their friendship grew closer still. The duck looked after the chicken. The chicken cared for the duck. Then one early morning, as the sun rose red over the horizon, the chicken saw a faint green strip of land ahead. It was the mainland at last.

The duck swam its last strokes with all its strength and brought its friend to the shore. The chicken jumped onto the sand, flapped its wings for joy, and turned to help its friend up. The two had reached the mainland safely. Now they could live near people and near every other creature, just as Heaven had called them to.

And from then on, the chicken kept all three of its promises.

Every night at midnight, the chicken gently calls the duck awake to lay its eggs. Every day at first light, before the sky is bright, the rooster stretches its neck and crows, loud and ringing. It wakes the whole household, the whole village, and every creature to greet the new day. And the hen sits patiently on her nest, keeping warm even the big round duck eggs. She waits for the day they hatch into yellow ducklings that waddle after their mother to the pond.

So a rooster crowing at daybreak, or a hen in the garden warming a nest with duck eggs among her own, is the chicken keeping its promise from long ago. It is a promise to the friend who carried it across a whole wide sea. The Tày have passed this story of friendship down from generation to generation, gentle as the waves lapping around that little island long ago.