East Light and the Bridge of Fishes

Long, long ago, in the land beyond the Everlasting White Mountains of northern Korea, there lived a king who was served by a handsome young maidservant. Every day she cheered herself by looking south, where the tall peak that holds the Dragon’s Pool in its heart lifts its white head to the sky. When she was worn out with her daily work, she thought of the river that flows down the mountain from the Dragon’s Pool, and she hoped that one day she would have a son who would rule over the rich country that river watered.

One day, as she watched the mountaintop, she saw a tiny wisp of shining vapor drifting in from the east. It floated like a white cloud in the blue sky and looked no bigger than an egg. It came closer and closer until it seemed to slip into the folds of her dress. Soon afterward she gave birth to a boy, a truly beautiful child.

But the king was jealous and angry. He did not want the little stranger, so he took the baby and threw him into the pigpen, thinking that would be the end of him. But no! The mother pigs breathed into the baby’s nose, and their warm breath kept him alive.

When the king’s servants heard a baby gurgling happily, they went to see where the sound was coming from, and there they found a contented little boy who did not seem to mind his odd cradle at all. They wanted to feed him straight away, but the angry king ordered the child thrown out a second time, now into the stable. So the servants carried him in and laid him among the horses, expecting the animals to trample him.

But the mares were gentle. Their warm breath kept him from getting cold, and they fed him with their milk, so that he grew plump and strong.

When the king heard how the pigs and horses had behaved, he bowed his head toward heaven. It seemed that the Great One in the sky meant this boy to live and grow up. So he listened to the mother’s pleas and let her bring her child into the palace, where he was brought up like one of the king’s own sons.

As a sturdy youth he practiced archery and became a skillful rider. He was always kind to animals. In the king’s lands anyone who was cruel to a horse was punished, and anyone who beat a mare to death was put to death himself. But this young man was always gentle with his animals.

So the king named the young archer and horseman East Light, or Radiance of the Morning, and made him Master of the Royal Stables. East Light, as people liked to call him, became very popular. They also called him Child of the Sun and Grandson of the Yellow River.

One day, when the king was out in the mountains hunting deer, bears and tigers, he called on the young archer to show his skill. East Light drew his bow and shot as no one else could. Arrow after arrow whistled into the target, and he brought down running deer and flying birds. Everyone cheered the handsome youth. But instead of praising East Light, the king grew bitterly jealous and feared that the young man might try to take his throne. After that, nothing East Light did could please his royal master.

Afraid for his life if he stayed near the king, East Light fled south with three loyal followers until he came to a great river, wide and deep, that no one could cross. There was no boat, and there was no time to build a raft, for his enemies were close behind.

In despair he cried, “Alas! Must I, the Child of the Sun and Grandson of the Yellow River, be stopped here, helpless, by this river?”

Then, as if his father the Sun had whispered what to do, he drew his bow and shot arrow after arrow into the water, here and there, until his quiver was nearly empty.

For a few moments nothing happened, and to his companions it seemed a waste of good arrows. What would their leader fight with when the pursuers arrived, if his quiver was empty?

But a moment later the water began to stir strangely. Soon it was flecked with foam. From upstream and downstream and straight ahead, fish came swimming toward East Light, poking their noses out of the water as if to say, “Climb on our backs, and we’ll save you!” They packed together so tightly that their backs formed a bridge strong enough for men to stand on.

“Quick!” East Light shouted. “Let’s go! Look, the king’s horsemen are coming down the hill after us!”

So the four young men ran across the bridge of scaly, spiny fish backs. As soon as they reached the far bank, the bridge broke up and the fish swam away. They had hardly gone when the pursuers reached the water’s edge on the other side. The king’s soldiers shot arrows at East Light and his companions, but the arrows fell short, and the river was too deep and wide for their horses to swim. So the four young men got safely away.

A few miles farther on, East Light met three strangers who seemed to be waiting for him. They greeted him warmly and invited him to become their king and rule their city. The first was dressed in seaweed, the second in hemp cloth and the third in embroidered robes. They stood for the three kinds of people in the land: fishermen and hunters, farmers and craftsmen, and the rulers of the tribes.

So in the land of Fuyu, rich in the five grains, the new king was joyfully welcomed by his people. The men of Fuyu were tall, brave and polite, good archers and skilled riders. They ate from bowls with chopsticks, used round dishes at their feasts and wore large pearls and polished red jade.

The people of Fuyu gave the fairest maiden in the land to be King East Light’s bride. She became a gracious queen, much loved by her people, and they had many children.

East Light ruled long and happily, and under him the people of Fuyu grew prosperous and learned many new ways. He taught them how rulers and people should treat one another and gave them laws of marriage, as well as better ways to cook and to build houses. Griffis’s legend even credits him with teaching hairstyles and introducing the topknot. This is the hero’s culture-bringing role in the story, not an established history of the hairstyle.

Griffis closes by imagining a later united country taking the name Cho-sen, or Morning Radiance, after East Light. That link belongs to his founding legend and should not be treated as a verified derivation of Korea’s historical names.

Where this tale comes from

“East Light and the Bridge of Fishes” is the third tale in William Elliot Griffis’s Korean Fairy Tales. It is a founding legend: the hero, born from a wisp of shining vapor and saved first by pigs and then by mares, escapes over a living bridge of fish to become king of Fuyu.

Griffis ends the tale by linking East Light’s name to Cho-sen, “Morning Radiance,” the old name of Korea often translated as the Land of the Morning Calm.

Read the original: Korean Fairy Tales (Project Gutenberg)

Best for ages 9–12 — a hero’s escape across a bridge of fish and the founding of a kingdom.

A ruler who protects and persecutes

The king first accepts the child after animals protect him, then threatens him when his skill wins public admiration. Recognition does not settle the king’s insecurity. Pigs, mares and fish repeatedly make survival possible where human authority fails. The three differently dressed greeters reverse that pattern by welcoming a leader instead of fearing a rival.

Compare three rescues

For the pigpen, stable and river, identify the danger, helper and outcome. Then compare the old king’s response to the boy with the strangers’ response to the adult. What changes in the way authority is offered?

Questions to ask

• How did the animals help baby East Light?
• Why did the king turn against East Light after the hunt?
• What did the three strangers’ clothes stand for?

You may also like

• Prince Sandalwood, the Father of Korea — another Korean founding legend
• The White Hare and the Crocodiles — a crossing on the backs of sea creatures
• The Story of Prince Yamato Take — a young hero who makes a jealous ruler uneasy