graveyard and talked to the headless corpse. Now when morning broke and
Rasalu said he must continue his journey, the headless corpse asked him
whither he was going, and when he said, “To play chaupur with King
Sarkap,” the corpse begged him to give up the idea, saying: “I am King
Sarkap’s brother, and I know his ways. Every day before breakfast he
cuts off the heads of two or three men just to amuse himself. One day no
one else was at hand, so he cut off mine, and he will surely cut off
yours on one pretense or another. However, if you are determined to go
and play chaupur with him, take some of the bones from this graveyard,
and make your dice out of them, and then the enchanted dice with which
my brother plays will lose their virtue. Otherwise he will always win.”
So Rasalu took some of the bones lying about, and fashioned them into
dice, and these he put into his pocket. Then, bidding adieu to the
headless corpse, he went on his way to play chaupur with the king.
Now, as Rajah Rasalu, tender-hearted and strong, journeyed along to play
chaupur with the king, he came to a burning forest, and a voice rose
from the fire, saying, “Oh, traveler! Save me from the fire!”
Then the Prince turned towards the burning forest, and lo! the voice was
the voice of a tiny cricket. Nevertheless, Rasalu, tender-hearted and
strong, snatched it from the fire and set it at liberty. Then the little
creature, full of gratitude, pulled out one of its feelers, and giving
it to its preserver, said, “Keep this, and should you ever be in
trouble, put it into the fire, and instantly I will come to your aid.”
The Prince smiled, saying, “What help could _you_ give _me_?”
Nevertheless, he kept the hair and went on his way.
Now, when he reached the city of King Sarkap, seventy maidens, daughters
of the king, came out to meet him—seventy fair maidens, merry and
careless, full of smiles and laughter; but one, the youngest of them
all, when she saw the gallant young Prince riding on Bhanur, going gayly
to his doom, was filled with pity, and called to him, saying:
“Fair Prince, on the charger so gray,
Turn thee back! Turn thee back!
Or lower thy lance for the fray;
Thy head will be forfeit to-day!
Dost love life? Then, stranger, I pray,
Turn thee back! Turn thee back!”
But he, smiling at the maiden, answered lightly:
“Fair maiden, I come from afar,
Sworn conqueror in love and in war!
King Sarkap my coming will rue,
His head in four pieces I’ll hew;
Then forth as a bridegroom I’ll ride,
With you, little maid, as my bride!”
Now when Rasalu replied so gallantly, the maiden looked in his face, and
seeing how fair he was, and how brave and strong, she straightway fell
in love with him, and would gladly have followed him through the world.
But the other sixty-nine maidens, being jealous, laughed scornfully at
her, saying: “Not so fast, oh gallant warrior! If you would marry our
sister you must first do our bidding, for you will be our younger
brother.”
“Fair sisters!” quoth Rasalu gayly, “give me my task and I will perform
it.”
So the sixty-nine maidens mixed a hundred-weight of millet seed with a
hundred-weight of sand, and giving it to Rasalu, bade him separate the
seed from the sand.
Then he bethought him of the cricket, and drawing the feeler from his
pocket, thrust it into the fire. And immediately there was a whirring
noise in the air, and a great flight of crickets alighted beside him,
and amongst them the cricket whose life he had saved.
Then Rasalu said, “Separate the millet seed from the sand.”
“Is that all?” quoth the cricket. “Had I known how small a job you
wanted me to do, I would not have assembled so many of my brethren.”
With that the flight of crickets set to work, and in one night they
separated the seed from the sand.
Now when the sixty-nine fair maidens, daughters of the king, saw that
Rasalu had performed his task, they set him another, bidding him swing
them all, one by one, in their swings, until they were tired.
Whereupon he laughed, saying, “There are seventy of you, counting my
little bride yonder, and I am not going to spend my life swinging girls!
Why, by the time I have given each of you a swing, the first will be
wanting another! No! If you want a swing, get in, all seventy of you,
and then I’ll see what can be done.”
So the seventy maidens climbed into one swing, and Rajah Rasalu,
standing in his shining armor, fastened the ropes to his mighty bow, and
drew it up to its fullest bent. Then he let go, and like an arrow the
swing shot into the air, with its burden of seventy fair maidens, merry
and careless, full of smiles and laughter.
But as it swung back again, Rasalu, standing there in his shining armor,
drew his sharp sword and severed the ropes. Then the seventy fair
maidens fell to the ground headlong; and some were bruised and some were
broken, but the only one who escaped unhurt was the maiden who loved
Rasalu, for she fell out last, on the top of the others, and so came to
no harm.
After this, Rasalu strode on fifteen paces, till he came to the seventy
drums, that everyone who came to play chaupur with the king had to beat
in turn; and he beat them so loudly that he broke them all. Then he came
to the seventy gongs, all in a row, and he hammered them so hard that
they cracked to pieces.
Seeing this, the youngest Princess, who was the only one who could run,
fled to her father, the king, in a great fright, saying:
“A mighty Prince, Sarkap! making havoc rides along,
He swung us, seventy maidens fair, and threw us out headlong;
He broke the drums you placed there, and the gongs, too, in his pride,
Sure, he will kill thee, father mine, and take me for his bride!”
But King Sarkap replied scornfully:
“Silly maiden, thy words make a lot
Of a very small matter;
For fear of my valor, I wot,
His armor will clatter.
As soon as I’ve eaten my bread
I’ll go forth and cut off his head!”
Notwithstanding these brave and boastful words he was in reality very
much afraid, having heard of Rasalu’s renown. And learning that he was
stopping at the house of an old woman in the city, till the hour of
playing chaupur arrived, Sarkap sent slaves to him with trays of
sweetmeats and fruit, as to an honored guest. But the food was poisoned.
Now, when the slaves brought the trays to Rajah Rasalu, he rose up
haughtily, saying: “Go tell your master I have naught to do with him in
friendship. I am his sworn enemy, and I eat not of his salt!”
So saying, he threw the sweetmeats to Rajah Sarkap’s dog, which had
followed the slaves, and lo! the dog died.
Then Rasalu was very wroth, and said bitterly, “Go back to Sarkap,
slaves. And tell him that Rasalu deems it no act of bravery to kill even
an enemy by treachery.”
Now, when evening came, Rajah Rasalu went forth to play chaupur with
King Sarkap, and as he passed some potters’ kilns he saw a cat wandering
about restlessly; so he asked what ailed her, that she never stood
still, and she replied: “My kittens are in an unbaked pot in the kiln
yonder. It has just been set alight, and my children will be baked
alive; therefore I cannot rest!”
Her words moved the heart of Rajah Rasalu, and going to the potter, he
asked him to sell the kiln as it was; but the potter replied that he
could not settle a fair price till the pots were burned, as he could not
tell how many would come out whole. Nevertheless, after some bargaining,
he consented at last to sell the kiln, and Rasalu, having searched all
the pots, restored the kittens to their mother, and she in gratitude for
his mercy, gave him one of them, saying, “Put it in your pocket, for it
will help you when you are in difficulties.” So Rajah Rasalu put the
kitten in his pocket, and went to play chaupur with the king.
Now, before they sat down to play, Rajah Sarkap fixed his stakes—on the
first game, his kingdom; on the second, the wealth of the whole world,
and on the third, his own head. So, likewise, Rajah Rasalu fixed his
stakes—on the first game, his arms; on the second, his horse, and on the
third, his own head.
Then they began to play, and it fell to Rasalu’s lot to make the first
move. Now he, forgetful of the dead man’s warning, played with the dice
given him by Rajah Sarkap, besides which, Sarkap let loose his famous
rat, Dhol Rajah, and it ran about the board, upsetting the chaupur
pieces on the sly, so that Rasalu lost the first game, and gave up his
shining armor.
Then the second game began, and once more Dhol Rajah, the rat, upset the
pieces; and Rasalu, losing the game, gave up his faithful steed. Then
Bhanur, the Arab steed, who stood by, found voice, and cried to his
master:
“Sea-born am I, bought with much gold;
Dear Prince! Trust me now as of old.
I’ll carry you far from these wiles—
My flight, all unspurr’d, will be swift as a bird,
For thousands and thousands of miles!
Or if needs you must stay; ere the next game you play
Place your hand in your pocket, I pray!”
Hearing this, Rajah Sarkap frowned, and bade his slaves remove Bhanur,
the Arab steed, since he gave his master advice in the game. Now, when
the slaves came to lead the faithful steed away, Rasalu could not
refrain from tears, thinking over the long years during which Bhanur,
the Arab steed, had been his companion. But the horse cried out again:
“Weep not, dear Prince! I shall not eat my bread
Of stranger hands, nor to strange stall be led.
Take thy right hand, and place it as I said.”
These words roused some recollection in Rasalu’s mind, and when, just at
this moment, the kitten in his pocket began to struggle, he remembered
all about the warning, and the dice made from dead men’s bones. Then his
heart rose up once more, and he called boldly to Rajah Sarkap: “Leave my
horse and arms here for the present. Time enough to take them away when
you have won my head!”
Now, Rajah Sarkap, seeing Rasalu’s confident bearing, began to be
afraid, and ordered all the women of his palace to come forth in their
gayest attire and stand before Rasalu, so as to distract his attention
from the game. But he never even looked at them, and drawing the dice
from his pocket, said to Sarkap, “We have played with your dice all this
time. Now we will play with mine.”
Then the kitten went and sat at the window through which the rat Dhol
Rajah used to come, and the game began.
After awhile, Sarkap, seeing Rajah Rasalu was winning, called to his
rat, but when Dhol Rajah saw the kitten he was afraid, and would not go
farther. So Rasalu won, and took back his arms. Next he played for his
horse, and once more Rajah Sarkap called for his rat; but Dhol Rajah,
seeing the kitten keeping watch, was afraid. So Rasalu won the second
stake, and took back Bhanur, the Arab steed.
Then Sarkap brought all his skill to bear on the third and last game,
saying:
“Oh, molded pieces! Favor me to-day!
Forsooth this is a man with whom I play.
No paltry risk—but life and death at stake;
As Sarkap does, so do, for Sarkap’s sake!”
But Rasalu answered back:
“Oh, molded pieces! Favor me to-day!
Forsooth it is a man with whom I play.
No paltry risk—but life and death at stake;
As Heaven does, so do, for Heaven’s sake!”
So they began to play, whilst the women stood round in a circle, and the
kitten watched Dhol Rajah, from the window. Then Sarkap lost, first his
kingdom, then the wealth of the whole world, and lastly his head.
Just then, a servant came in to announce the birth of a daughter to
Rajah Sarkap, and he, overcome by misfortunes, said, “Kill her at once!
For she has been born in an evil moment, and has brought her father ill
luck!”
But Rasalu rose up in his shining armor, tender-hearted and strong,
saying: “Not so, O King! She has done no evil. Give me this child to
wife; and if you will vow, by all you hold sacred, never again to play
chaupur for another’s head, I will spare yours now!”
Then Sarkap vowed a solemn vow never to play for another’s head; and
after that he took a fresh mango branch, and the newborn babe, and
placing them on a golden dish, gave them to Rasalu.
Now, as he left the palace, carrying with him the newborn babe and the
mango branch, he met a band of prisoners, and they called out to him:
“A royal hawk art thou, O King, the rest
But timid wild-fowl. Grant us our request,
Unloose these chains, and live forever blest!”
And Rajah Rasalu harkened to them, and bade King Sarkap set them at
liberty.
Then he went to the Murti Hills, and placed the newborn babe, Kokilan,
in an underground palace, and planted the mango branch at the door,
saying, “In twelve years the mango tree will blossom; then will I return
and marry Kokilan.”
And after twelve years, the mango tree began to flower, and Raja Rasalu
married the Princess Kokilan, who he won from Sarkap when he played
chaupur with the king.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE FOUR FRIENDS
Three great friends, a tortoise, a weasel and a crow, were talking
together one fine day when they were disturbed by the noise of an animal
who was coming their way in great haste. They soon saw that it was a
goat, who was evidently being pursued, so, as a matter of safety, each
of them sought a place of refuge.
The goat stopped quite suddenly by the side of a pool, near which the
three friends had been conversing together, but he seemed to be afraid
to drink. The crow, who had flown to the upper branches of a high tree,
saw that the man who had been hunting the goat had given up the chase,
so he called to the tortoise, whose haven was the pool, that it was
quite safe now for him to come out.
The tortoise at once came to the surface, and seeing the goat standing
there, evidently thirsty, but trembling and afraid to drink, spoke
kindly to him, assuring him that there was no danger.
Then the goat drank, and the tortoise asked him why he was so
distressed. The goat replied that he had reason to be, for he had barely
escaped death at the hands of a hunter.
“Well,” said the tortoise, “you are quite safe now. There are three of
us here, a weasel, a crow, and myself, who are great friends. How would
you like to join our company? It is our practice to stand by one another
in all things, and to make our lives as pleasant as possible.”
By this time the weasel and the crow had joined them and they seconded
the invitation, so the goat accepted, and each of them swore to be a
true friend to the others.
For a long time they lived pleasantly together; but one day the goat
failed to be at their meeting-place, and this caused them great anxiety.
They waited for some time, but as their friend didn’t appear, they
decided to search for him, fearing that he was in trouble. So the crow
flew up into the air, and looking round about saw the poor goat striving
to release himself from the meshes of a hunter’s net.
He at once reported his discovery to his friends, and their sorrow upon
receiving the news of the goat’s capture was great. It was their duty
now to see what could be done to help their comrade, and at length they
hit upon a plan to rescue him.
The weasel possessed very sharp teeth, and he was to gnaw the meshes of
the net in which the goat was confined, and so set him at liberty. As
this would take some time, it was necessary that the weasel get to work
as soon as possible, because the hunter might return to his net at any
minute.
The crow and the weasel hastened to the spot, and such good work did the
latter do with his teeth, that by the time the tortoise arrived, the
goat was at liberty.
It was foolish for the tortoise to have come so far from home,
especially to a place so dangerous as this, because it surely would not
be very long before the hunter returned, and his presence there caused
the goat to say: “My dear friend, I am sorry to have been the cause of
bringing you here, for if the hunter should come, how could you escape?
The rest of us could easily look after ourselves, for the crow would fly
into the air, the weasel could hide in any hole, and I should seek
safety in flight; but you, who move so slowly, would be at the mercy of
the hunter.”
At this moment, surely enough, the hunter appeared, and it happened as
the goat had said. The latter ran swiftly away; the crow flew into the
air, and the weasel disappeared into a hole. Only the tortoise was left,
unable to escape.
The hunter was greatly vexed when he saw the broken net, and he wondered
who could have helped the goat to get away. He looked around, and of
course saw the tortoise.
“Well,” he said, “here is a tortoise, and that is better than nothing,
and it will make a very good meal.” So he threw the tortoise into a sack
which he carried, threw it over his shoulder, and started off home.
When he had gone the three friends returned, and guessed at once what
had happened to the tortoise. They bitterly bemoaned his fate,
especially the goat, who blamed himself as being the cause of this
trouble.
Then the crow said: “Tears and lamentations will not help our poor
friend, so let us devise means of saving him. It is our part to show
what we can do in a case of such need.”
They thought hard, and finally decided upon a plan. The goat was to let
himself be seen by the hunter, and to make out that he was lame. The
hunter would then be sure of being able to catch him, and so lay down
his sack, and run after him. As soon as he was far enough away from the
sack (and it was the part of the goat to lead him as far away as
possible) the weasel would again put his sharp teeth into use, and gnaw
through the cord which would be tied around the mouth of the sack, and
so free their friend.
So the goat ran with speed until he was in front of the hunter, and then
he appeared to be lame and weary. As soon as the hunter saw him in such
feeble condition he was sure he could catch him without difficulty, and
so, throwing down his sack, he ran after the goat, who artfully drew him
farther and farther away, until they were both out of sight.
Then came the weasel, whose strong teeth soon set the tortoise at
liberty, and together they hid themselves in a bush.
The goat had led the hunter a merry chase, which the latter was finally
forced to give up, and then return to recover his sack. He was
congratulating himself on having at least captured something that
couldn’t run away from him, when he lifted the sack from the ground, and
found that now he had lost the tortoise.
This story shows the strength of true friendship, and that when the
desire to help is there, a way to do so will be found.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE ADVENTURES OF JUAN
Juan was always getting into trouble. He was a lazy boy, and more than
that, he did not have good sense. When he tried to do things, he made
such dreadful mistakes that he might better not have tried.
His family grew very impatient with him, scolding and beating him
whenever he did anything wrong. One day his mother, who was almost
discouraged with him, gave him a bolo[4] and sent him to the forest, for
she thought he could at least cut firewood. Juan walked leisurely along,
contemplating some means of escape. At last he came to a tree that
seemed easy to cut, and then he drew his long knife and prepared to
work.
[Footnote 4: A long knife.]
Now it happened that this was a magic tree, and it said to Juan:
“If you do not cut me I will give you a goat that shakes silver from its
whiskers.”
This pleased Juan wonderfully, both because he was curious to see the
goat, and because he would not have to chop the wood. He agreed at once
to spare the tree, whereupon the bark separated and the goat stepped
out. Juan commanded it to shake its whiskers, and when the money began
to drop he was so delighted that he took the animal and started home to
show his treasure to his mother.
On the way he met a friend who was more cunning than Juan, and when he
heard of the boy’s rich goat he decided to rob him. Knowing Juan’s
fondness for tuba,[5] he persuaded him to drink. This sent him to sleep,
and then the friend substituted another goat for the magic one. As soon
as he awoke, Juan hastened home with the goat and told his people of the
wonderful tree, but when he commanded the animal to shake its whiskers,
no money fell out. The family, believing it to be another of Juan’s
tricks, beat and scolded the poor boy.
[Footnote 5: Fermented juice of the cocoanut.]
He went back to the tree and threatened to cut it down for lying to him,
but the tree said:
“No, do not cut me down and I will give you a net which you may cast on
dry ground, or even in the tree tops, and it will return full of fish.”
So Juan spared the tree and started home with his precious net, but on
the way he met the same friend who again persuaded him to drink tuba.
While he was asleep, the friend replaced the magic net with a common
one, so that when Juan reached home and tried to show his power, he was
again the subject of ridicule.
Once more Juan went to his tree, this time determined to cut it down.
But the offer of a magic pot, always full of rice and spoons which
provided whatever he wished to eat with his rice, dissuaded him, and he
started home happier than ever. Before reaching home, however, he met
with the same fate as before, and his folks, who were becoming tired of
his pranks, beat him harder than ever.
Thoroughly angered, Juan sought the tree a fourth time and was on the
point of cutting it down when once more it arrested his attention. After
some discussion, he consented to accept a stick to which he had only to
say, “Boombye, Boomba,” and it would beat and kill anything he wished.
When he met his friend on this trip, he was asked what he had, and he
replied:
“Oh, it is only a stick, but if I say, ‘Boombye, Boomba,’ it will beat
you to death.”
At the sound of the magic words the stick leaped from his hands and
began beating his friend until he cried:
“Oh, stop it and I will give back everything that I stole from you.”
Juan ordered the stick to stop, and then he compelled the man to lead
the goat and to carry the net and the jar and spoons to his home.
There Juan commanded the goat, and it shook its whiskers until his
mother and brothers had all the silver they could carry. Then they ate
from the magic jar and spoons until they were filled. And this time Juan
was not scolded. After they had finished Juan said:
“You have beaten me and scolded me all my life, and now you are glad to
accept my good things. I am going to show you something else: ‘Boombye,
Boomba.’” Immediately the stick leaped out and beat them all until they
begged for mercy and promised that Juan should ever after be head of the
house.
From that time Juan was rich and powerful, but he never went anywhere
without his stick. One night, when some thieves came to his house, he
would have been robbed and killed had it not been for the magic words
“Boombye, Boomba,” which caused the death of all the robbers.
Some time after this he married a beautiful princess, and because of the
kindness of the magic tree they always lived happily.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE FEAST OF THE LANTERNS
Wang Chih was only a poor man, but he had a wife and children to love,
and they made him so happy that he would not have changed places with
the Emperor himself.
He worked in the fields all day, and at night his wife always had a bowl
of rice ready for his supper. And sometimes, for a treat, she made him
some bean soup, or gave him a little dish of fried pork.
But they could not afford pork very often; he generally had to be
content with rice.
One morning, as he was setting off to his work, his wife sent Han Chung,
his son, running after him to ask him to bring home some firewood.
“I shall have to go up into the mountain for it at noon,” he said. “Go
and bring me my axe, Han Chung.”
Han Chung ran for his father’s axe, and Ho-Seen-Ko, his little sister,
came out of the cottage with him.
“Remember, it is the Feast of Lanterns to-night, father,” she said.
“Don’t fall asleep upon the mountain; we want you to come back and light
them for us.”
She had a lantern in the shape of a fish, painted red and black and
yellow, and Han Chung had got a big round one, all bright crimson, to
carry in the procession; and, besides that, there were two large
lanterns to be hung outside the cottage door as soon as it grew dark.
Wang Chih was not likely to forget the Feast of Lanterns, for the
children had talked of nothing else for a month, and he promised to come
home as early as he could.
At noontide, when his fellow-laborers gave up working, and sat down to
rest and eat, Wang Chih took his axe and went up the mountain slope to
find a small tree he might cut down for fuel.
He walked a long way, and at last saw one growing at the mouth of a
cave.
“This will be just the thing,” he said to himself. But, before striking
the first blow, he peeped into the cave to see if it were empty.
To his surprise, two old men, with long, white beards, were sitting
inside playing chess, as quietly as mice, with their eyes fixed on the
chessboard.
Wang Chih knew something of chess, and he stepped in and watched them
for a few minutes.