e to be my wife," said he, "then I will give you
your clothes."

But this did not suit the Weaving Maiden.

"I am a daughter of the Ruler of the Gods," said she, "and may not
marry without his command. Give back my clothes to me quickly, or else
my father will punish you!"

Then the yellow cow said: "You have been destined for each other by
fate, and I will be glad to arrange your marriage, and your father,
the Ruler of the Gods, will make no objection. Of that I am sure."

The Weaving Maiden replied: "You are an unreasoning animal! How could
you arrange our marriage?"

The cow said: "Do you see that old willow-tree there on the shore?
Just give it a trial and ask it. If the willow tree speaks, then
Heaven wishes your union."

And the Weaving Maiden asked the willow.

The willow replied in a human voice:

"This is the Seventh day,
The Herd Boy his court to the Weaver doth pay!"

and the Weaving Maiden was satisfied with the verdict. The Herd Boy
laid down her clothes, and went on ahead. The Weaving Maiden drew them
on and followed him. And thus they became man and wife.

But after seven days she took leave of him.

"The Ruler of Heaven has ordered me to look after my weaving," said
she. "If I delay too long I fear that he will punish me. Yet, although
we have to part now, we will meet again in spite of it."

When she had said these words she really went away. The Herd Boy ran
after her. But when he was quite near she took one of the long needles
from her hair and drew a line with it right across the sky, and this
line turned into the Silver River. And thus they now stand, separated
by the River, and watch for one another.

And since that time they meet once every year, on the eve of the
Seventh Day. When that time comes, then all the crows in the world of
men come flying and form a bridge over which the Weaving Maiden
crosses the Silver River. And on that day you will not see a single
crow in the trees, from morning to night, no doubt because of the
reason I have mentioned. And besides, a fine rain often falls on the
evening of the Seventh Day. Then the women and old grandmothers say to
one another: "Those are the tears which the Herd Boy and the Weaving
Maiden shed at parting!" And for this reason the Seventh Day is a rain
festival.

To the west of the Silver River is the constellation of the Weaving
Maiden, consisting of three stars. And directly in front of it are
three other stars in the f