Page 13 - Animals of the Sakhalin Region in myths and legends

In late autumn, birds flew to the edge of the forest. It’s time for them to
go to warm lands. They gathered for seven days, all the birds were there,
only capercaillie didn’t join in. The golden eagle hit the dry branch with

its humped nose, hit it again and ordered the young grouse to call the
capercaillie. The grouse rustled with its wings, the field-body into the
thicket of the forest. She sees: a capercaillie is sitting on a cedar, peeling
nuts from cones.
— Dear capercaillie! We all want to go to warm lands. We have been
waiting for you alone for seven days.

— Well, well, don’t talk in vain! It’s not in a hurry to fly to warm
countries. Look how many nuts are left here! Do you really have to give
up all this?
The grouse returned to the edge of the forest. Then the golden eagle
sent a fast hawk. A hawk circled over a large cedar. And the capercaillie
sits with its beak creaking, picking nuts from the cones.
— Hey, capercaillie! The birds have been waiting for you for fourteen

days. It’s high time to fly to warm lands!
— There is no need to rush, — answers the capercaillie. — We will
have time yet! You need to eat properly before you go.
The hawk returned to the birds and told them that the capercaillie
was in no hurry to fly to warm lands. The golden Eagle, Steller’s sea
Eagl got angry and flew ahead of all the birds to the warm lands. And

the capercaillie spent seven whole days sitting on the cedar and picking
nuts.
The next day he finished eating, began to clean his beak and feathers. It
flew to the edge of the forest. What happened? The needles of the cedars
are crumbling, the branches are waving with bare twigs. These were the
birds, waiting for the wood grouse, who pecked at all the needles. The
trunks of the trees are white, as if swept by the snow. These were birds,
waiting for the wood grouse, cleaning their feathers on their trunks. The

capercaillie wept bitterly:
— Of all the birds, only I stayed in the forest! How am I going to spend
the winter alone?
The eyebrows of the capercaillie reddened from tears. Since then,
all his children, grandchildren and nephews, listening to this story, cry
bitterly. That is why all capercaillie have red eyebrows like a berry-

mountain ash.

11