Once on a time there lived two thieves in a village who earned their
livelihood by stealing. As they were well-known thieves, every act
of theft in the village was ascribed to them whether they committed
it or not; they therefore left the village, and, being resolved to
support themselves by honest labour, went to a neighbouring town for
service. Both of them were engaged by a householder; the one had to
tend a cow, and the other to water a champaka plant. The elder thief
began watering the plant early in the morning, and as he had been
told to go on pouring water till some of it collected itself round
the foot of the plant he went on pouring bucketful after bucketful:
but to no purpose. No sooner was the water poured on the foot of the
plant than it was forthwith sucked up by the thirsty earth; and it
was late in the afternoon when the thief, tired with drawing water,
laid himself down on the ground, and fell asleep. The younger thief
fared no better. The cow which he had to tend was the most vicious
in the whole country. When taken out of the village for pasturage it
galloped away to a great distance with its tail erect; it ran from one
paddy-field to another, and ate the corn and trod upon it; it entered
into sugar-cane plantations and destroyed the sweet cane;--for all
which damage and acts of trespass the neat-herd was soundly rated by
the owners of the fields. What with running after the cow from field
to field, from pool to pool; what with the abusive language poured
not only upon him, but upon his forefathers up to the fourteenth
generation, by the owners of the fields in which the corn had been
destroyed,--the younger thief had a miserable day of it. After a
world of trouble he succeeded about sunset in catching hold of the
cow, which he brought back to the house of his master. The elder
thief had just roused himself from sleep when he saw the younger one
bringing in the cow. Then the elder said to the younger--"Brother,
why are you so late in coming from the fields?"
Younger. What shall I say, brother? I took the cow to that part of the
meadow where there is a tank, near which there is a large tree. I let
the cow loose, and it began to graze about without giving the least
trouble. I spread my gamchha [25] upon the grass under the tree;
and there was such a delicious breeze that I soon fell asleep, and
I did not wake till after sunset; and when I awoke I saw my good cow
grazing contentedly at the distance of a few paces. But how did you
fare, brother?
Elder. Oh, as for me, I had a jolly time of it. I had poured only
one bucketful of water on the plant, when a large quantity rested
round it. So my work was done, and I had the whole day to myself. I
laid myself down on the ground; I meditated on the joys of this new
mode of life; I whistled; I sang; and at last fell asleep. And I am
up only this moment.
When this talk was ended, the elder thief, believing that what the
younger thief had said was true, thought that tending the cow was more
comfortable than watering the plant; and the younger thief, for the
same reason, thought that watering the plant was more comfortable
than tending the cow: each therefore resolved to exchange his own
work for that of the other.
Elder. Well, brother, I have a wish to tend the cow. Suppose to-morrow
you take my work, and I yours. Have you any objection?
Younger. Not the slightest, brother. I shall be glad to take up your
work, and you are quite welcome to take up mine. Only let me give
you a bit of advice. I felt it rather uncomfortable to sleep nearly
the whole of the day on the bare ground. If you take a charpoy [26]
with you, you will have a merry time of it.
Early the following morning the elder thief went out with the cow to
the fields, not forgetting to take with him a charpoy for his ease and
comfort; and the younger thief began watering the plant. The latter
had thought that one bucketful, or at the outside two bucketfuls,
of water would be enough. But what was his surprise when he found
that even a hundred bucketfuls were not sufficient to saturate the
ground around the roots of the plant. He was dead tired with drawing
water. The sun was almost going down, and yet his work was not over. At
last he gave it up through sheer weariness.
The elder thief in the fields was in no better case. He took the
cow beside the tank which the younger thief had spoken of, put his
charpoy under the large tree hard by, and then let the cow loose. As
soon as the cow was let loose it went scampering about in the meadow,
jumping over hedges and ditches, running through paddy-fields, and
injuring sugar-cane plantations. The elder thief was not a little
put about. He had to run about the whole day, and to be insulted by
the people whose fields had been trespassed upon. But the worst of
it was, that our thief had to run about the meadow with the charpoy
on his head, for he could not put it anywhere for fear it should be
taken away. When the other neat-herds who were in the meadow saw the
elder thief running about in breathless haste after the cow with the
charpoy on his head, they clapped their hands and raised shouts of
derision. The poor fellow, hungry and angry, bitterly repented of
the exchange he had made. After infinite trouble, and with the help
of the other neat-herds, he at last caught hold of the precious cow,
and brought it home long after the village lamps had been lit.
When the two thieves met in the house of their master, they merely
laughed at each other without speaking a word. Their dinner over,
they laid themselves to rest, when there took place the following
conversation:--
Younger. Well, how did you fare, brother?
Elder. Just as you fared, and perhaps some degrees better.
Younger. I am of opinion that our former trade of thieving was
infinitely preferable to this sort of honest labour, as people call it.
Elder. What doubt is there of that? But, by the gods, I have never
seen a cow which can be compared to this. It has no second in the
world in point of viciousness.
Younger. A vicious cow is not a rare thing. I have seen some cows
as vicious. But have you ever seen a plant like this champaka plant
which you were told to water? I wonder what becomes of all the water
that is poured round about it. Is there a tank below its roots?
Elder. I have a good mind to dig round it and see what is beneath it.
Younger. We had better do so this night when the good man of the
house and his wife are asleep.
At about midnight the two thieves took spades and shovels and began
digging round the plant. After digging a good deal the younger thief
lighted upon some hard thing against which the shovel struck. The
curiosity of both was excited. The younger thief saw that it was
a large jar; he thrust his hand into it and found that it was full
of gold mohurs. But he said to the elder thief--"Oh, it is nothing;
it is only a large stone." The elder thief, however, suspected that
it was something else; but he took care not to give vent to his
suspicion. Both agreed to give up digging as they had found nothing;
and they went to sleep. An hour or two after, when the elder thief
saw that the younger thief was asleep, he quietly got up and went
to the spot which had been digged. He saw the jar filled with gold
mohurs. Digging a little near it, he found another jar also filled
with gold mohurs. Overjoyed to find the treasure, he resolved to secure
it. He took up both the jars, went to the tank which was near, and from
which water used to be drawn for the plant, and buried them in the mud
of its bank. He then returned to the house, and quietly laid himself
down beside the younger thief, who was then fast asleep. The younger
thief, who had first found the jar of gold mohurs, now woke, and softly
stealing out of bed, went to secure the treasure he had seen. On going
to the spot he did not see any jar; he therefore naturally thought
that his companion the elder thief had secreted it somewhere. He went
to his sleeping partner, with a view to discover if possible by any
marks on his body the place where the treasure had been hidden. He
examined the person of his friend with the eye of a detective, and
saw mud on his feet and near the ankles. He immediately concluded
the treasure must have been concealed somewhere in the tank. But in
what part of the tank? on which bank? His ingenuity did not forsake
him here. He walked round all the four banks of the tank. When he
walked round three sides, the frogs on them jumped into the water;
but no frogs jumped from the fourth bank. He therefore concluded that
the treasure must have been buried on the fourth bank. In a little
he found the two jars filled with gold mohurs; he took them up, and
going into the cow-house brought out the vicious cow he had tended,
and put the two jars on its back. He left the house and started for
his native village.
When the elder thief at crow-cawing got up from sleep, he was surprised
not to find his companion beside him. He hastened to the tank and
found that the jars were not there. He went to the cow-house, and did
not see the vicious cow. He immediately concluded the younger thief
must have run away with the treasure on the back of the cow. And where
could he think of going? He must be going to his native village. No
sooner did this process of reasoning pass through his mind than he
resolved forthwith to set out and overtake the younger thief. As
he passed through the town, he invested all the money he had in a
costly pair of shoes covered with gold lace. He walked very fast,
avoiding the public road and making short cuts. He descried the
younger thief trudging on slowly with his cow. He went before him
in the highway about a distance of 200 yards, and threw down on the
road one shoe. He walked on another 200 yards and threw the other
shoe at a place near which was a large tree; amid the thick leaves of
that tree he hid himself. The younger thief coming along the public
road saw the first shoe and said to himself--"What a beautiful shoe
that is! It is of gold lace. It would have suited me in my present
circumstances now that I have got rich. But what shall I do with one
shoe?" So he passed on. In a short time he came to the place where
the other shoe was lying. The younger thief said within himself--"Ah,
here is the other shoe! What a fool I was, that I did not pick up
the one I first saw! However it is not too late. I'll tie the cow to
yonder tree and go for the other shoe." He tied the cow to the tree,
and taking up the second shoe went for the first, lying at a distance
of about 200 yards. In the meantime the elder thief got down from
the tree, loosened the cow, and drove it towards his native village,
avoiding the king's highway. The younger thief on returning to the
tree found that the cow was gone. He of course concluded that it
could have been done only by the elder thief. He walked as fast as
his legs could carry him, and reached his native village long before
the elder thief with the cow. He hid himself near the door of the
elder thief's house. The moment the elder thief arrived with the
cow, the younger thief accosted him, saying--"So you are come safe,
brother. Let us go in and divide the money." To this proposal the
elder thief readily agreed. In the inner yard of the house the two
jars were taken down from the back of the cow; they went to a room,
bolted the door, and began dividing. Two mohurs were taken up by
the hand, one was put in one place, and the other in another; and
they went on doing that till the jars became empty. But last of all
one gold mohur remained. The question was--Who was to take it? Both
agreed that it should be changed the next morning, and the silver cash
equally divided. But with whom was the single mohur to remain? There
was not a little wrangling about the matter. After a great deal of yea
and nay, it was settled that it should remain with the elder thief,
and that next morning it should be changed and equally divided.
At night the elder thief said to his wife and the other women of
the house, "Look here, ladies, the younger thief will come to-morrow
morning to demand the share of the remaining gold mohur; but I don't
mean to give it to him. You do one thing to-morrow. Spread a cloth on
the ground in the yard. I will lay myself on the cloth pretending to
be dead; and to convince people that I am dead, put a tulasi [27]
plant near my head. And when you see the younger thief coming to
the door, you set up a loud cry and lamentation. Then he will of
course go away, and I shall not have to pay his share of the gold
mohur." To this proposal the women readily agreed. Accordingly the
next day, about noon, the elder thief laid himself down in the yard
like a corpse with the sacred basil near his head. When the younger
thief was seen coming near the house, the women set up a loud cry,
and when he came nearer and nearer, wondering what it all meant,
they said, "Oh, where did you both go? What did you bring? What
did you do to him? Look, he is dead!" So saying they rent the air
with their cries. The younger thief, seeing through the whole, said,
"Well, I am sorry my friend and brother is gone. I must now attend to
his funeral. You all go away from this place, you are but women. I'll
see to it that the remains are well burnt." He brought a quantity of
straw and twisted it into a rope, which he fastened to the legs of the
deceased man, and began tugging him, saying that he was going to take
him to the place of burning. While the elder thief was being dragged
through the streets, his body was getting dreadfully scratched and
bruised, but he held his peace, being resolved to act his part out,
and thus escape giving the share of the gold mohur. The sun had
gone down when the younger thief with the corpse reached the place
of burning. But as he was making preparations for a funeral pile,
he remembered that he had not brought fire with him. If he went
for fire leaving the elder thief behind, he would undoubtedly run
away. What then was to be done? At last he tied the straw rope to the
branch of a tree, and kept the pretended corpse hanging in the air,
and he himself climbed into the tree and sat on that branch, keeping
tight hold of the rope lest it should break, and the elder thief run
away. While they were in this state, a gang of robbers passed by. On
seeing the corpse hanging, the head of the gang said, "This raid of
ours has begun very auspiciously. Brahmans and Pandits say that if
on starting on a journey one sees a corpse, it is a good omen. Well,
we have seen a corpse, it is therefore likely that we shall meet with
success this night. If we do, I propose one thing: on our return let
us first burn this dead body and then return home." All the robbers
agreed to this proposal. The robbers then entered into the house of
a rich man in the village, put its inmates to the sword, robbed it of
all its treasures, and withal managed it so cleverly that not a mouse
stirred in the village. As they were successful beyond measure, they
resolved on their return to burn the dead body they had seen. When they
came to the place of burning they found the corpse hanging as before,
for the elder thief had not yet opened his mouth lest he should be
obliged to give half of the gold mohur. The thieves dug a hollow
in the ground, brought fuel, and laid it upon the hollow. They took
down the corpse from the tree, and laid it upon the pile; and as they
were going to set it on fire, the corpse gave out an unearthly scream
and jumped up. That very moment the younger thief jumped down from
the tree with a similar scream. The robbers were frightened beyond
measure. They thought that a Dana (evil spirit) had possessed the
corpse, and that a ghost jumped down from the tree. They ran away in
great fear, leaving behind them the money and the jewels which they had
obtained by robbery. The two thieves laughed heartily, took up all the
riches of the robbers, went home, and lived merrily for a long time.