Sultan. He demanded the Princess for the General, saying that if the
request were refused the fleet would destroy the city and all its
people. The Sultan and his courtiers were so frightened that they
decided to give his daughter to the General, the next full moon being
the date set for the wedding.
In the meantime Bantugan had been preparing everything for the marriage
which he expected to take place at the appointed time. But as the days
went by and Balatama did not return they became alarmed, fearing that he
was dead. After three months had passed Bantugan prepared a great
expedition to go in search of his son, and the great warship was
decorated with flags of gold.
As they came in sight of the Sultan’s city, they saw the Spanish fleet
in the harbor, and one of his brothers advised Bantugan not to enter
until the Spaniards left. They then brought their ship to anchor. But
all were disappointed that they could go no farther, and one said, “Why
do we not go on? Even if the blades of grass turn into Spaniards we need
not fear.” Another said: “Why do we fear? Even if the cannon-balls come
like rain, we can always fight.” Finally some wanted to return to their
homes and Bantugan said: “No, let us seek my son. Even though we must
enter the harbor where the Spaniards are, let us continue our search.”
So at his command the anchors were lifted, and they sailed into the
harbor where the Spanish fleet lay.
Now at this very time the Spanish general and his brother were with the
Sultan, intending to call upon the Princess. As the brother talked with
one of the sisters of the Princess they moved toward the window, and
looking down they saw Bantugan’s ships entering the harbor. They could
not tell whose flags the ships bore. Neither could the Sultan when he
was called. Then he sent his brother to bring his father, who was a very
old man, to see if he could tell. The father was kept in a little dark
room by himself that he might not get hurt, and the Sultan said to his
brother:
“If he is so bent with age that he cannot see, talk, or walk, tickle him
in the ribs and that will make him young again; and, my Brother, carry
him here yourself lest one of the slaves should let him fall and he
should hurt himself.”
So the old man was brought, and when he looked out upon the ships he saw
that the flags were those of the father of Bantugan who had been a great
friend of his in his youth. And he told them that he and Bantugan’s
father years ago had made a contract that their children and children’s
children should inter-marry, and now since the Sultan had promised his
daughter to two people, he foresaw that great trouble would come to the
land. Then the Sultan said to the General:
“Here are two claimants to my daughter’s hand. Go aboard your ships and
you and Bantugan make war on each other, and the victor shall have my
daughter.”
So the Spaniards opened fire upon Bantugan, and for three days the earth
was so covered with smoke from the battle that neither could see his
enemy. Then the Spanish general said:
“I cannot see Bantugan or the fleet anywhere, so let us go and claim the
Princess.”
But the Sultan said: “We must wait until the smoke rises to make sure
that Bantugan is gone.”
When the smoke rose, the ships of Bantugan were apparently unharmed and
the Sultan said:
“Bantugan has surely won, for his fleet is uninjured while yours is
badly damaged. You have lost.”
“No,” said the General, “we will fight it out on dry land.”
So they both landed their troops and their cannon, and a great fight
took place, and soon the ground was covered with dead bodies. And the
Sultan commanded them to stop, as the women and children in the city
were being killed by the cannon-balls, but the General said:
“If you give your daughter to Bantugan we shall fight forever, or until
we die.”
Then the Sultan sent for Bantugan and said:
“We must deceive the Spaniard in order to get him to go away. Let us
tell him that neither of you will marry my daughter, and then after he
has gone, we shall have the wedding.”
Bantugan agreed to this, and word was sent to the Spaniard that the
fighting must cease since many women and children were being killed. So
it was agreed between the Spaniard and Bantugan that neither of them
should marry the Princess. Then they both sailed away to their homes.
Bantugan soon returned, however, and married the Princess, and on the
way back to his home they found his son and took him with them. For
about a week the Spanish general sailed toward his home and then he,
too, turned about to go back, planning to take the Princess by force.
When he found that she had already been carried away by Bantugan, his
wrath knew no bounds. He destroyed the Sultan, his city, and all its
people. And then he sailed away to prepare a great expedition with which
he should utterly destroy Bantugan and his country as well.
One morning Bantugan looked out and saw at the mouth of the Rio Grande
the enormous fleet of the Spaniards whose numbers were so great that in
no direction could the horizon be seen. His heart sank within him, for
he knew well that he and his country were doomed.
Though he could not hope to win in a fight against such great numbers,
he called his head men together, and said:
“My Brothers, the Spanish dogs have come to destroy the land. We cannot
successfully oppose them, but in the defense of the fatherland we can
die.”
So the great warship was again prepared, and all the soldiers of Islam
embarked, and then with Bantugan standing at the bow they sailed forth
to meet their fate.
The fighting was fast and furious, but soon the great warship of
Bantugan filled with water until at last it sank, drawing with it
hundreds of the Spanish ships. And then a strange thing happened. At the
very spot where Bantugan’s warship sank, there arose from the sea a
great island which you can see to-day not far from the mouth of the Rio
Grande. It is covered with bongo-palms, and deep within its mountains
live Bantugan and his warriors. A Moro sailboat passing this island is
always scanned by Bantugan’s watchers, and if it contains women such as
he admires, they are snatched from their seats and carried deep into the
heart of the mountain. For this reason Moro women fear even to sail near
the island of Bongos.
When the wife of Bantugan saw that her husband was no more and that his
warship had been destroyed, she gathered together the remaining warriors
and set forth herself to avenge him. In a few hours her ship also was
sunk, and in the place where it sank there arose the mountain of Timaco.
On this thickly wooded island are found white monkeys, the servants of
the Princess, who still lives in the center of the mountain. On a quiet
day high up on the mountain side one can hear the chanting and singing
of the waiting-girls of the wife of Bantugan.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE PESTLE AND MORTAR OF JADE
Once upon a time, so very long ago that even the great-grandfathers of
our great-grandmothers had not been born, there lived in the city of
Kwen-lu a little Chinese boy named Pei-Hang.
His father and mother loved him dearly, and did all they could to shield
him from the power of the evil Genii, or spirits, of whom there were a
great many in China. Of course, there were some good Genii too, but most
of them were very much the opposite, and Pei-Hang’s mother took every
precaution against them.
It is well-known that a wicked Genii will not come near a Chinese boy if
he has some red silk braided in with his pigtail, or if he wears a
silver chain around his neck, and all of them dread an old fishing-net.
So Pei-Hang’s mother made him a little shirt out of an old fishing-net,
and she took care that his pigtail should be plaited with the brightest
of red silk.
Also she was particular in having his head shaved in just the right way,
with a tuft sticking straight up in the luckiest place.
And so Pei-Hang got safely over the troubles of his babyhood, and grew
from a baby into a big boy, and then to a tall, handsome youth. Then he
left off wearing his fish-net shirt, but still wore the silver chain
round his neck and had red silk in his pigtail.
“It is time that Pei-Hang saw a little more of the world,” said his
father. “He must go to Chang-ngan and study under the wise men there.”
Chang-ngan was the ancient capital of China, a very large city indeed,
and Pin-Too, the teacher to whom Pei-Hang was sent, was the wisest man
there.
Pei-Hang soon learned what the world was thinking about, and many other
things also. As soon as he was eighteen he took the red silk out of his
pigtail and the silver chain from his neck, because grown-up people were
supposed to be able to protect themselves against the Genii without the
aid of charms.
When he was twenty, Pin-Too said he could not teach him any more, and
told him to go back to his parents, and comfort them in their old age.
Pei-Hang was his favorite pupil, and Pin-Too looked very sorry when he
said this.
“I will start to-morrow, Master, and will leave the city by the Golden
Bridge,” replied Pei-Hang obediently.
“No, you must go by the Indigo Bridge,” said Pin-Too, “for there you
will meet your future wife.”
“I was not thinking of a wife,” observed Pei-Hang, with some dismay.
Pin-Too just wrinkled up his eyes and laughed.
“So much the better!” said he. “When you have once seen her, you will be
able to think of nothing else.”
It was very hot, and Pei-Hang intended to start in the cool of the early
morning, but he sat so long over his books the night before his journey
that he wakened late, and when he opened his eyes the sun was blazing
down upon the streets, making the town like a furnace.
However, he had promised to start that day, so he took up his stick and
set off.
“I will rest at the Indigo Bridge,” said he to himself, “and walk on
again in the cool of the evening.”
But he had spent many sleepless nights in study, and when he reached the
bridge he was so tired that he sat down and fell asleep.
Then, in a dream which came to him, he saw a tall and beautiful maiden,
who showed him her right foot, around which was bound a red cord.
“What does this mean?” asked Pei-Hang, who could hardly take his eyes
away from her face to look at her foot.
“What does the red cord around your own foot mean?” replied the girl.
Then Pei-Hang looked at his right foot, and saw that it was tied to the
girl’s by the same thin red cord. So he knew that he had met his future
wife.
“My mother used to say that when a boy is born, the Moon Fairy ties an
invisible red cord around his right foot, and the other end of the cord
encircles the foot of the girl-baby whom he is to marry,” said he.
“Quite true,” said the maiden, “and to people who are awake this cord is
invisible. Now I will tell you my name, that you may remember it. It is
Yun-Ying.”
“And I will tell you mine,” began Pei-Hang, but Yun-Ying stopped him,
smiling.
“Ah, I know yours, and all about you,” she said.
Pei-Hang was greatly surprised, but he need not have been, for everyone
in Chang-ngan knew that he was Pin-Too’s wisest, handsomest, and
best-loved pupil. And Yun-Ying lived close to the city, and had often
seen him walking through the streets carrying his books.
When Pei-Hang awoke, he looked for the red cord around his foot, but he
saw neither this nor the fair maiden.
“I wonder if she is real, or only a dream-maiden, after all,” he said to
himself.
But Yun-Ying was quite real; only her mother, who knew something of
magic, had given her the power of stepping in and out of people’s
dreams.
Pei-Hang got up and went on his way, thinking of Yun-Ying all the time.
It was still very hot, and he grew so thirsty that he went to a little
hut by the roadside, and asked an old woman who was sitting in the
doorway to give him a drink.
She called to her daughter to fill their best goblet with fresh spring
water, and bring it out to the stranger. Then appeared none other than
Yun-Ying herself.
“Oh!” cried Pei-Hang, “I thought that I might never see you again, and I
have found you already.”
“And who am I?” asked the girl, smiling.
“Yun-Ying,” replied Pei-Hang; and the name seemed so musical to him that
he said it over and over again.
Yun-Ying was dressed in white underneath, but her overdress was bright
blue, embroidered with beautiful flowers which she had worked herself;
and she stood in the door of the hut, with a peach tree in full bloom
over her head, making such a picture of youth and loveliness that
Pei-Hang’s heart seemed to jump into his throat, and beat there fast
enough to choke him.
“Who are you? And how do you come to know Yun-Ying?” asked the old
woman, peering and blinking at him, with her hand over her eyes to
shield them from the sun.
Then Pei-Hang told her about the dream, and the red cord, and when he
said that he wanted to marry her daughter, the old woman did not look at
all pleased. “If I had two daughters, you would be welcome to one of
them,” she said.
Pei-Hang was not a bad match, for his parents were well-off, and he was
their only child; but Yun-Ying was a very pretty girl and a mandarin of
Chang-ngan was anxious to marry her.
“He is four times her age, it is true,” said her mother, explaining this
to Pei-Hang, “but he is very rich.”
“He is old and wrinkled, like a little brown monkey,” said Yun-Ying,
“and I don’t want to marry him. Besides, the Moon Fairy didn’t tie my
foot to his.”
“No, that’s true,” sighed her mother.
She would have liked to send Pei-Hang away, but she knew it would not be
safe to do that if the red cord had really been tied to his foot and
Yun-Ying’s, so she asked him to come inside, and they would talk it
over.
“Now,” said she, “on this stool I pound magic drugs given to me by the
Genii, but my pestle and mortar is broken, and I want a new one.”
“That I can easily buy in Chang-ngan,” replied Pei-Hang.
“No, you cannot,” said the old woman, “because it is a pestle and mortar
of jade, and you can only get another one from the home of the Genii,
which is on a mountain above the Lake of Gems. If you will do that, and
bring it back to me, you shall marry Yun-Ying.”
“I will do that, but I must see my parents first,” said Pei-Yang.
He had no idea where the home of the Genii was, but Yun-Ying took him
out into the garden, and showed him, in the far distance, a range of
snow-capped mountains, with one peak towering above all the others.
“That is Mount Sumi,” she said, “and it is there the Genii live, sitting
on the snow-peaks, and looking down at the Lake of Gems.”
“In order to reach it you must cross the Blue River, the White River,
the Red River, and the Black River, all of which are full of monstrous
fishes. That is why my mother is sending you,” sighed Yun-Ying. “She
thinks you will not return alive.”
“I am a good swimmer, and not afraid of fish,” said Pei-Hang.
“But you must not try to swim,” said Yun-Ying earnestly, “for you would
be instantly devoured. Take this box with you. In it you will find six
red seeds, one of which you must throw into each river as you come to
it. The river will then shrink to the size of a small brook, over which
you can jump.”
Pei-Hang opened the box, and saw inside six round, red seeds, each of
them the size of a pea, and these he promised to use as she had
directed. Then he kissed her, and set out on his journey.
On his way to Mount Sumi he passed through the town in which his parents
lived, and when he saw them, he told them everything that had happened
to him since he left Chang-ngan.
His mother, who was a very wise woman, as most mothers are, told him the
Genii would be angry if he turned their great rivers into brooks, and
would probably refuse to give him the pestle and mortar made of jade.
But she gave him a box containing six white seeds, one of which he was
to cast into each brook as he passed it on his return journey, and it
would then expand into a river again.
The next morning Pei-Hang kissed his parents, and continued on his way
to Mount Sumi. On the seventh day he came to the Blue River, which was a
quarter of a mile wide, and as blue as the sky of summer, and fishes
were popping their heads out of the water in every direction. The head
of every fish was twice as large as a football, and had two rows of
teeth. But he threw a red seed into the river, and in a moment it had
become a little brook, across which he could hop on one foot, and the
huge fishes were changed into tadpoles.
Very soon he reached the White River, which was half a mile wide, and so
rapid that it was covered with foam, and full of immense sea-serpents.
This river was so wide that Pei-Hang was really surprised when, on
throwing another of the red seeds into it, there lay before him a tiny
brook, in the bottom of which some eels were wriggling.
Stepping across this, Pei-Hang walked on for some time until he came in
sight of the Red River, which was three-quarters of a mile wide, and
bright scarlet. Stretched right across it, like a bridge, was a row of
huge alligators, each of which had its mouth wide open.
Into the river Pei-Hang threw one of the little red seeds, and one of
the nearest alligators made a snap at it, but missed it. The seed sank
into the water, and there before him was a small stream less than two
feet across, and at the bottom of it a row of tiny lizards.
Pei-Hang crossed the stream, and was met by one of the Genii, who had
come down from the snow-peak to see who had been playing tricks with the
three mighty rivers.
Then Pei-Hang showed him the white seeds in the other box, and said:
“With these I can make them as large as they were before, on my way
back, so it is all right. But first I must find the home of the Genii,
and get a pestle and mortar of jade for my future mother-in-law to pound
magic drugs in.”
“First you must cross the Black River,” replied the Geni, with a rather
scornful laugh. “It is a mile wide, and the fish in it are six yards
long, and covered with spikes like porcupines.”
“How did you get across?” inquired Pei-Hang.
“I? O, I can fly,” said the Geni.
“And I can jump,” retorted Pei-Hang, sturdily.
The Geni walked with him as far as the Black River, and when our hero
saw the great waste of water as black as ink, stretching away in front
of him, it must be confessed his heart sank a little.
But he took out his fourth seed, and watched it disappear beneath a
coal-black wave.
To the Geni’s astonishment the river immediately dried up, and a shallow
stream running through the grass lay at their feet.
The Geni was much impressed by the wonderful things Pei-Hang seemed able
to do. He was not bad-hearted, so he showed him the nearest way to the
home of the Genii on the top of Mount Sumi.
It was a long and wearisome climb, but at last they got up there, and
found eight of the Genii sitting on eight snow-peaks, and looking down
on the Lake of Gems, as Yun-Ying had said.
The Lake of Gems lay on the other side of Mount Sumi, and was a
beautiful sheet of water, flashing all the colors of the rainbow.
Pei-Hang could not take his eyes away from it. He forgot all about the
pestle and mortar as he watched the waves rippling along the shore, and
leaving behind them diamonds, rubies, sapphires and pearls in thousands.
Each pebble on the margin of the lake was a precious stone, and Pei-Hang
wanted to go down and fill his pockets with them.
“We must let him have the pestle and mortar,” said the Geni who had been
his guide, and who had told the others about the wonderful red and white
seeds while Pei-Hang was standing spell-bound by the beauty of the Lake.
“If we don’t he won’t give us back our rivers.”
The eight Genii nodded their eight heads, and spoke all at once, and the
noise they made was like the rumble of thunder among the mountains. “Let
him take it, if he can carry it,” they said.
And they laughed until the snow-peaks shook beneath them; for the mortar
made of jade was six feet high and four feet wide, and the pestle was so
heavy no mortal could lift it.
Pei-Hang, when he had finished staring at the Lake of Gems, walked round
it, and wondered how he was to carry it down the mountain and across the
plains to Chang-ngan.
Then he sat down on the ground to think the matter over, and the Genii,
even his own good-natured Geni, laughed at him again.
“Come!” they said. “If you like to fill the mortar with precious stones,
you may do so. Any man who can carry it empty can carry it full.”
“Because no one can carry it at all,” concluded the good-natured Geni
softly to himself.
Pei-Hang folded his arms and sat still, and thought, and thought, and
took no notice of their gibes and jeers. He had not studied for three
years under the wisest man in Chang-ngan for nothing, and, besides, he
was determined to marry Yun-Ying, and when young men are very much in
love, they sometimes accomplish things which seem to be impossible.
At last he jumped up and asked the friendly Geni if he would make a
little heap of stones at one side of the mortar.
“I want to be able to look inside it, and I am not tall enough,” said
he.
“And why don’t you do it yourself?” asked the Geni.
“Because I must go down to the Lake of Gems and collect precious
stones,” replied Pei-Hang.
Then he ran down to the shore of the lake and gathered diamonds, rubies,
emeralds, pearls, and sapphires, as many as he could carry.
This he did again and again, emptying them into the mortar each time,
until it was quite full and held gems enough to make Pei-Hang the
richest man in China.
And this was just what he wanted to be, for the yellow-faced mandarin
was only the richest man in Chang-ngan, and he knew that the richest man
in China would have much the greater chance of winning Yun-Ying.
“Well, what next?” cried the eight Genii, when he had finished. “Will
you take it on your shoulder or on your head?”
“I will just carry it under my arm,” replied Pei-Hang.
He took out his little box, threw one of the red seeds on top of the
gems, and in a moment the tremendous pestle and mortar shrank into one
of ordinary size.
Pei-Hang put the pestle in his pocket, and took up the mortar carefully,
because he did not wish to lose any of the precious stones. Then he
bowed low to the Genii, thanked them, and said good-by.
This time they did not laugh, but each of them roared with rage. They
dared not stop him, knowing that he had the power to turn the four
brooks into rivers again.
Pei-Hang hastened away, and on his journey did exactly as he had
promised.
After crossing the first brook, he threw a white seed into it, and
turned it into an inky black waste of water a mile wide, full of fishes
six yards long, and every fish covered with spikes.
When the Genii saw this they stopped roaring, so glad were they to see
the Black River guarding them once more from the outer world.
On reaching the Red River, the White River, and the Blue River, Pei-Hang
did the same thing, and since that time no one has been able to find the
home of the Genii, because no one else could cross the Blue River, much
less the other three.
Having traveled for seven days Pei-Hang came to his father’s and
mother’s house. He told them all that he had experienced, and for each
white seed his mother had given him he gave her a jewel as large as an
egg. Then he went on to Chang-ngan, where he found that Yun-Ying’s
mother had spread a report that he was dead, and had invited all her
friends to attend a wedding feast in honor of her daughter’s marriage
with the yellow-faced old mandarin.
The wedding had not taken place when Pei-Hang arrived, but Yun-Ying was
already arrayed in her wedding dress, and was standing beneath a peach
tree which stood in front of the house. As soon as she saw him she threw
herself into his arms, and shed tears of joy at his safe return.
He put down the pestle and mortar and kissed Yun-Ying’s tears away. Then
her mother came, and said:
“You are too late to marry my daughter, but I’ll buy the pestle and
mortar from you with some of the money the mandarin gave me.”
“Oh, no, you will not,” replied Pei-Hang. He then dropped one of his
white seeds into the mortar, and it at once became so large that it
covered the whole grass plot under the peach tree, and it was filled to
the brim with glittering precious stones. He then climbed into a branch
overhanging it, and from there he threw down to the wedding guests
handfuls of jewels, and the yellow-faced mandarin was as busy as any one
picking them up, much to the disgust of many who thought he was rich
enough already.