For the third time he carried his wife’s body until he reached the banks of a huge river.
Dangbo..o..o Dingbo..o..o.. somewhere in the wilderness of the Bhutanese forests, signs of winter were everywhere. Many trees stood bleak and leafless and a chilling wind blew relentlessly. Like the other birds and beasts in the forest a hoopoe couple was busily preparing for the lean and cold months. They made their nest warmer and began to stock up grains and whatever else they could find so that they would not starve during the harsh winter months.
While the male hoopoe flew around and collected whatever he could, the task of arranging the stores in their nest fell on the female hoopoe. Now one day while she was piling up the grains, a precious pea which her husband had so proudly brought home just the day before fell from her beak into a deep crevice of the stone wall in which they had built their nest. She tried to get it out but the pea was too deep down for her even to see it. By the end of the day, although her beak was raw and scarred, the pea was still deep inside the crevice.
At dusk when birds come home to roost, the male hoopoe came with his collection for the day. He proudly surveyed their stock. “One pea is missing. You must have eaten it, you ungrateful moringmo,” he accused her. He was tired, and easily worked himself into a fury. He ruffled up his feathers and scolded her, and as if that was not enough he began to peck at her and push her around until she was dead. Instantly the male hoopoe regretted what he had done.
He looked at the still body of his dear wife for a long time in utter disbelief. “I will take her body to a safe and clean place,” he decided. At last he sighed to himself and then lifted the dead body onto his back and began the long and arduous journey. After flying for a long time he perched on the top of a tree on a high mountain. He thought, “This may be a good place for my wife.” Just then he saw some vultures circling the skies so he sang,
The mountains are the home of the gods,
They are sacred and clean,
Yet the vultures hover above,
This will not be a good resting place for my wife.
He once again took up his precious burden and flew over great distances. His wings ached and his body grew heavy so he rested on a great boulder in a huge plain. He looked around and considered the place. Alas, a family of mice were scurrying about so he sang,
The plain is vast,
It’s where the paths of thousands of travelers meet
And dangers abound.
The mice are waiting eagerly to devour my wife
I will not leave her here.
For the third time he carried his wife’s body until he reached the banks of a huge river. He perched on a large log of wood on the bank of the river and looked around. He saw the fish swishing about as they swam in the water and he sang,
The river flows swiftly
Carrying down everything with it.
It would carry my wife down too
But the fish would eat her before that.
I will not leave her body here.
“No place is good enough for my wife,” he sighed sadly as he lifted up the beloved remains of his wife and continued his journey again, flying over high mountains and swooping into deep valleys. But his search proved to be futile and he decided to return to his nest. He had spent the whole winter carrying his wife’s dead body around so that when he reached home it was already early spring. Worn out from his long unsuccessful journey, he feebly laid his wife’s body down on the rock in front of the entrance to their nest and looked in. He could not believe what he saw. The single pea that had fallen into the crevice had grown and was now flowering. It filled up their whole nest. This was far too much for someone who had already suffered so intensely. He was overcome with remorse and exhaustion, and fell down dead beside the body of his wife.