from her roof, and went to her room; and when she was in bed and
asleep, the Rájá's son got up softly, and sat on his bed. "Bed," he
said to it, "I want to go to the Princess Labám's bed-room." So the
little bed carried him to the room where she lay fast asleep.
The young Rájá took his bag and said, "I want a great deal of
betel-leaf," and it at once gave him quantities of betel-leaf. This he
laid near the princess's bed, and then his little bed carried him back
to the old woman's house.
Next morning all the princess's servants found the betel-leaf, and
began to eat it. "Where did you get all that betel-leaf?" asked the
princess. "We found it near your bed," answered the servants. Nobody
knew the prince had come in the night and put it all there.
In the morning the old woman came to the Rájá's son. "Now it is
morning," she said, "and you must go; for if the king finds out all I
have done for you, he will seize me." "I am ill to-day, dear aunty,"
said the prince; "do let me stay till to-morrow morning." "Good," said
the old woman. So he stayed, and they took their dinner out of the
bag, and the bowl gave them water.
When night came the princess got up and sat on her roof, and at twelve
o'clock, when every one was in bed, she went to her bed-room, and was
soon fast asleep. Then the Rájá's son sat on his bed, and it carried
him to the princess. He took his bag and said, "Bag, I want a most
lovely shawl." It gave him a splendid shawl, and he spread it over the
princess as she lay asleep. Then he went back to the old woman's house
and slept till morning.
In the morning, when the princess saw the shawl, she was delighted.
"See, mother," she said; "God must have given me this shawl, it is so
beautiful." Her mother was very glad too. "Yes, my child," she said;
"God must have given you this splendid shawl."
When it was morning the old woman said to the Rájá's son, "Now you
must really go." "Aunty," he answered, "I am not well enough yet. Let
me stay a few days longer. I will remain hidden in your house, so that
no one may see me." So the old woman let him stay.
When it was black night, the princess put on her lovely clothes and
jewels, and sat on her roof. At midnight she went to her room and went
to sleep. Then the Rájá's son sat on his bed and flew to her bed-room.
There he said to his bag, "Bag, I want a very, very beautiful ring."
The bag gave him a glorious ring. Then he took the Princess Labám's
hand gently to put on the ring, and she started up very much
frightened.
"Who are you?" she said to the prince. "Where do you come from? Why do
you come to my room?" "Do not be afraid, princess," he said; "I am no
thief. I am a great Rájá's son. Híráman parrot, who lives in the
jungle where I went to hunt, told me your name, and then I left my
father and mother, and came to see you."
"Well," said the princess, "as you are the son of such a great Rájá, I
will not have you killed, and I will tell my father and mother that I
wish to marry you."
The prince then returned to the old woman's house; and when morning
came, the princess said to her mother, "The son of a great Rájá has
come to this country, and I wish to marry him." Her mother told this
to the king. "Good," said the king; "but if this Rájá's son wishes to
marry my daughter, he must first do whatever I bid him. If he fails I
will kill him. I will give him eighty pounds weight of mustard seed,
and out of this he must crush the oil in one day. If he cannot do this
he shall die."
In the morning the Rájá's son told the old woman that he intended to
marry the princess. "Oh," said the old woman, "go away from this
country, and do not think of marrying her. A great many Rájás and
Rájás' sons have come here to marry her, and her father has had them
all killed. He says whoever wishes to marry his daughter must first do
whatever he bids him. If he can, then he shall marry the princess; if
he cannot, the king will have him killed. But no one can do the things
the king tells him to do; so all the Rájás and Rájás' sons who have
tried have been put to death. You will be killed too, if you try. Do
go away." But the prince would not listen to anything she said.
The king sent for the prince to the old woman's house, and his
servants brought the Rájá's son to the king's court-house to the king.
There the king gave him eighty pounds of mustard seed, and told him to
crush all the oil out of it that day, and bring it next morning to him
to the court-house. "Whoever wishes to marry my daughter," he said to
the prince, "must first do all I tell him. If he cannot, then I have
him killed. So if you cannot crush all the oil out of this mustard
seed, you will die."
The prince was very sorry when he heard this. "How can I crush the oil
out of all this mustard seed in one day?" he said to himself; "and if
I do not, the king will kill me." He took the mustard seed to the old
woman's house, and did not know what to do. At last he remembered the
Ant-Rájá, and the moment he did so, the Ant-Rájá and his ants came to
him. "Why do you look so sad?" said the Ant-Rájá. The prince showed
him the mustard seed, and said to him, "How can I crush the oil out of
all this mustard seed in one day? And if I do not take the oil to the
king to-morrow morning, he will kill me." "Be happy," said the
Ant-Rájá; "lie down and sleep: we will crush all the oil out for you
during the day, and to-morrow morning you shall take it to the king."
The Rájá's son lay down and slept, and the ants crushed out the oil
for him. The prince was very glad when he saw the oil.
The next morning he took it to the court-house to the king. But the
king said, "You cannot yet marry my daughter. If you wish to do so,
you must first fight with my two demons and kill them." The king a
long time ago had caught two demons, and then, as he did not know what
to do with them, he had shut them up in a cage. He was afraid to let
them loose for fear they would eat up all the people in his country;
and he did not know how to kill them. So all the kings and kings' sons
who wanted to marry the Princess Labám had to fight with these demons;
"for," said the king to himself, "perhaps the demons may be killed,
and then I shall be rid of them."
When he heard of the demons the Rájá's son was very sad. "What can I
do?" he said to himself. "How can I fight with these two demons?" Then
he thought of his tiger: and the tiger and his wife came to him and
said, "Why are you so sad?" The Rájá's son answered, "The king has
ordered me to fight with his two demons and kill them. How can I do
this?" "Do not be frightened," said the tiger. "Be happy. I and my
wife will fight with them for you."
Then the Rájá's son took out of his bag two splendid coats. They were
all gold and silver, and covered with pearls and diamonds. These he
put on the tigers to make them beautiful, and he took them to the
king, and said to him, "May these tigers fight your demons for me?"
"Yes," said the king, who did not care in the least who killed his
demons, provided they were killed. "Then call your demons," said the
Rájá's son, "and these tigers will fight them." The king did so, and
the tigers and the demons fought and fought until the tigers had
killed the demons.
"That is good," said the king. "But you must do something else before
I give you my daughter. Up in the sky I have a kettle-drum. You must
go and beat it. If you cannot do this, I will kill you."
The Rájá's son thought of his little bed; so he went to the old
woman's house and sat on his bed. "Little bed," he said, "up in the
sky is the king's kettle-drum. I want to go to it." The bed flew up
with him, and the Rájá's son beat the drum, and the king heard him.
Still, when he came down, the king would not give him his daughter.
"You have," he said to the prince, "done the three things I told you
to do; but you must do one thing more." "If I can, I will," said the
Rájá's son.
Then the king showed him the trunk of a tree that was lying near his
court-house. It was a very, very thick trunk. He gave the prince a wax
hatchet, and said, "To-morrow morning you must cut this trunk in two
with this wax hatchet."
The Rájá's son went back to the old woman's house. He was very sad,
and thought that now the Rájá would certainly kill him. "I had his
oil crushed out by the ants," he said to himself. "I had his demons
killed by the tigers. My bed helped me to beat his kettle-drum. But
now what can I do? How can I cut that thick tree trunk in two with a
wax hatchet?"
At night he went on his bed to see the princess. "To-morrow," he said
to her, "your father will kill me." "Why?" asked the princess.
"He has told me to cut a thick tree-trunk in two with a wax hatchet.
How can I ever do that?" said the Rájá's son. "Do not be afraid," said
the princess; "do as I bid you, and you will cut it in two quite
easily."
Then she pulled out a hair from her head, and gave it to the prince.
"To-morrow," she said, "when no one is near you, you must say to the
tree-trunk, 'The Princess Labám commands you to let yourself be cut in
two by this hair.' Then stretch the hair down the edge of the wax
hatchet's blade."
The prince next day did exactly as the princess had told him; and the
minute the hair that was stretched down the edge of the hatchet-blade
touched the tree-trunk, it split into two pieces.
The king said, "Now you can marry my daughter." Then the wedding took
place. All the Rájás and kings of the countries round were asked to
come to it, and there were great rejoicings. After a few days the
prince's son said to his wife, "Let us go to my father's country." The
Princess Labám's father gave them a quantity of camels and horses and
rupees and servants; and they travelled in great state to the prince's
country, where they lived happily.
The prince always kept his bag, bowl, bed, and stick; only as no one
ever came to make war on him, he never needed to use the stick.
Told by Múniyá.
[Decoration]
XXIII.
THE PRINCESS WHO LOVED HER FATHER LIKE SALT.
In a country there lived a king who had seven daughters. One day he
called them all to him and said to them, "My daughters, how much do
you love me?" The six eldest answered, "Father, we love you as much as
sweetmeats and sugar;" but the seventh and youngest daughter said,
"Father, I love you as much as salt." The king was much pleased with
his six eldest daughters, but very angry with his youngest daughter.
"What is this?" he said; "my daughter only loves me as much as she
does salt!" Then he called some of his servants, and said to them,
"Get a palanquin ready, and carry my youngest daughter away to the
jungle."
The servants did as they were bid; and when they got to the jungle,
they put the palanquin down under a tree and went away. The princess
called to them, "Where are you going? Stay here; my father did not
tell you to leave me alone in the jungle." "We will come back," said
the servants; "we are only going to drink some water." But they
returned to her father's palace.
The princess waited in the palanquin under the tree, and it was now
evening, and the servants had not come back. She was very much
frightened and cried bitterly. "The tigers and wild beasts will eat
me," she said to herself. At last she went to sleep, and slept for a
little while. When she awoke she found in her palanquin some food on a
plate, and a little water, that God had sent her while she slept. She
ate the food and drank the water, and then she felt happier, for she
thought, "God must have sent me this food and water." She decided that
as it was now night she had better stay in her palanquin, and go to
sleep. "Perhaps the tigers and wild beasts will come and eat me," she
thought; "but if they don't, I will try to-morrow to get out of this
jungle, and go to another country."
The next morning she left her palanquin and set out. She walked on,
till, deep in the jungle, she came to a beautiful palace, which did
not belong to her father, but to another king. The gate was shut, but
she opened it, and went in. She looked all about, and thought, "What a
beautiful house this is, and what a pretty garden and tank!"
Everything was beautiful, only there were no servants nor anybody else
to be seen. She went into the house, and through all the rooms. In one
room she saw a dinner ready to be eaten, but there was no one to eat
it. At last she came to a room in which was a splendid bed, and on it
lay a king's son covered with a shawl. She took the shawl off, and
then she saw he was very beautiful, and that he was dead. His body was
stuck full of needles.
She sat down on the bed, and there she sat for one week, without
eating, or drinking, or sleeping, pulling out the needles. Then a man
came by who said to her, "I have here a girl I wish to sell." "I have
no rupees," said the princess; "but if you will sell her to me for my
gold bangles, I will buy her." The man took the bangles, and left the
girl with the princess, who was very glad to have her. "Now," she
thought, "I shall be no longer alone."
All day and all night long the princess sat and pulled out the
needles, while the girl went about the palace doing other work. At
the end of other two weeks the princess had pulled out all the needles
from the king's body, except those in his eyes.
Then the king's daughter said to her servant-girl, "For three weeks I
have not bathed. Get a bath ready for me, and while I am bathing sit
by the king, but do not take the needles out of his eyes. I will pull
them out myself." The servant-girl promised not to pull out the
needles. Then she got the bath ready; but when the king's daughter had
gone to bathe, she sat down on the bed, and pulled the needles out of
the king's eyes.
As soon as she had done so, he opened his eyes, and sat up. He thanked
God for bringing him to life again. Then he looked about, and saw the
servant-girl, and said to her, "Who has made me well and pulled all
the needles out of my body?" "I have," she answered. Then he thanked
her and said she should be his wife.
When the princess came from her bath, she found the king alive, and
sitting on his bed talking to her servant. When she saw this she was
very sad, but she said nothing. The king said to the servant-maid,
"Who is this girl?" She answered, "She is one of my servants." And
from that moment the princess became a servant-girl, and her
servant-girl married the king. Every day the king said, "Can this
lovely girl be really a servant? She is far more beautiful than my
wife."
One day the king thought, "I will go to another country to eat the
air." So he called the pretended princess, his wife, and told her he
was going to eat the air in another country. "What would you like me
to bring you when I come back?" She answered, "I should like beautiful
sárís and clothes, and gold and silver jewels." Then the king said,
"Call the servant-girl, and ask her what she would like me to bring
her." The real princess came, and the king said to her, "See, I am
going to another country to eat the air. What would you like me to
bring for you when I return?"
"King," she answered, "if you can bring me what I want I will tell you
what it is; but if you cannot get it, I will not tell you." "Tell me
what it is," said the king. "Whatever it may be I will bring it you."
"Good," said the princess. "I want a sun-jewel box." Now the princess
knew all about the sun-jewel boxes, and that only fairies had such
boxes. And she knew, too, what would be in hers if the king could get
one for her, although these boxes contain sometimes one thing and
sometimes another.
The king had never heard of such a box, and did not know what it was
like; so he went to every country asking all the people he met what
sort of box was a sun-jewel box, and where he could get it. At last
one day, after a fruitless search, he was very sad, for he thought, "I
have promised the servant to bring her a sun-jewel box, and now I
cannot get one for her; what shall I do?"
Then he went to sleep, and had a dream. In it he saw a jungle, and in
the jungle a fakír who, when he slept, slept for twelve years, and
then was awake for twelve years. The king felt sure this man could
give him what he wanted, so when he woke he said to his sepoys and
servants, "Stay here in this spot till I return to you; then we will
go back to my country."
He mounted his horse and set out for the jungle he had seen in his
dream. He went on and on till he came to it, and there he saw the
fakír lying asleep. He had been asleep for twelve years all but two
weeks: over him were a quantity of leaves, and grass, and a great deal
of mud. The king began taking off all the grass, and leaves, and mud,
and every day for a fortnight when he got up he cleared them all away
from off the fakír. When the fakír awoke at the end of the two weeks,
and saw that no mud, or grass, or leaves were upon him, but that he
was quite clean, he was very much pleased, and said to the king, "I
have slept for twelve years, and yet I am as clean as I was when I
went to sleep. When I awoke after my last sleep, I was all covered
with dirt and mud, grass and leaves; but this time I am quite clean."
The king stayed with the fakír for a week, and waited on him and did
everything for him. The fakír was very much pleased with the king, and
he told this to him: "You are a very good man." He added, "Why did you
come to this jungle? You are such a great king, what can you want from
me?" "I want a sun-jewel box," answered the king. "You are such a good
man," said the fakír, "that I will give you one."
Then the fakír went to a beautiful well, down which he went right to
the bottom. There, there was a house in which lived the red fairy. She
was called the red fairy not because her skin was red, for it was
quite white, but because everything about her was red--her house, her
clothes, and her country. She was very glad to see the fakír, and
asked him why he had come to see her. "I want you to give me a
sun-jewel box," he answered. "Very good," said the fairy, and she
brought him one in which were seven small dolls and a little flute.
"No one but she who wants this box must open it," said the fairy to
the fakír. "She must open it when she is quite alone and at night."
Then she told him what was in the box.
The fakír thanked her, and took the box to the king, who was delighted
and made many salaams to the fakír. The fakír told him none but the
person who wished for the box was to open it; but he did not tell him
what more the fairy had said.
The king set off on his journey now, and when he came to his servants
and sepoys, he said to them he would now return to his country, as he
had found the box he wanted. When he reached his palace he called the
false princess, his wife, and gave her her silks and shawls, and sárís,
and gold and silver jewels. Then he called the servant-girl--the true
princess--and gave her her sun-jewel box. She took it, and was
delighted to have it. She made him many salaams and went away with her
box, but did not open it then, for she knew what was in it, and that
she must open it at night and alone.
That night she took her box and went out all by herself to a wide
plain in the jungle, and there opened it. She took the little flute,
put it to her lips, and began to play, and instantly out flew the
seven little dolls, who were all little fairies, and they took chairs
and carpets from the box, and arranged them all in a large tent which
appeared at that moment. Then the fairies bathed her, combed and
rolled up her hair, put on her grand clothes and lovely slippers. But
all the time the princess did nothing but cry. They brought a chair
and placed it before the tent, and made her sit in it. One of them
took the flute and played on it, and all the others danced before the
princess, and they sang songs for her. Still she cried and cried. At
last, at four o'clock in the morning, one of the fairies said,
"Princess, why do you cry?" "I took all the needles out of the king,
all but those in his eyes," said the princess, "and while I was
bathing, my servant-girl, whom I had bought with my gold bangles,
pulled these out. She told the king it was she who had pulled out all
the other needles and brought him to life, and that I was her servant,
and she has taken my place and is treated as the princess, and the
king has married her, while I am made to do a servant's work and
treated as the servant." "Do not cry," said the fairies. "Everything
will be well for you by and by."
When it was close on morning, the princess played on the flute, and
all the chairs, sofas, and fairies became quite tiny, and went into
the box, and the tent disappeared. She shut it up, and took it back to
the king's palace. The next night she again went out to the
jungle-plain, and all happened as on the night before.
A wood-cutter was coming home late from his work, and had to pass by
the plain. He wondered when he saw the tent. "I went by some time
ago," he said to himself, "and I saw no tent here." He climbed up a
big tree to see what was going on, and saw the fairies dancing before
the princess, who sat outside the tent, and he saw how she cried
though the fairies did all they could to amuse her. Then he heard the
fairies say, "Princess, why do you cry?" And he heard her tell them
how she had cured the king, and how her servant-girl had taken her
place and made her a servant. "Never mind, don't cry," said the
fairies. "All will be well by and by." Near morning the princess
played on her flute, and the fairies went into the box, and the tent
disappeared, and the princess went back to the palace.
The third night passed as the other two had done. The wood-cutter came
to look on, and climbed into the tree to see the fairies and the
princess. Again the fairies asked her why she cried, and she gave the
same answer.
The next day the wood-cutter went to the king. "Last night and the
night before," he said, "as I came home from work, I saw a large tent
in the jungle, and before the tent there sat a princess who did
nothing but cry, while seven fairies danced before her, or played on
different instruments, and sang songs to her." The king was very much
astonished, and said to the wood-cutter, "To-night I will go with you,
and see the tent, and the princess, and the fairies."
When it was night the princess went out softly and opened her box on
the plain. The wood-cutter fetched the king, and the two men climbed
into a tree, and watched the fairies as they danced and sang. The king
saw that the princess who sat and cried was his own servant-girl. He
heard her tell the fairies all she had done for him, and all that had
happened to her; so he came suddenly down from the tree, and went up
to her, and took her hand. "I always thought you were a princess, and
no servant-girl," he said. "Will you marry me?"
She left off crying, and said, "Yes, I will marry you." She played on
her flute, and the tent disappeared, and all the fairies, and sofas,
and chairs went into the box. She put her flute in it, as she always
did before shutting down the lid, and went home with the king.
The servant-girl was very vexed and angry when she found the king knew
all that had happened. However, the princess was most good to her, and
never treated her unkindly.
The princess then sent a letter to her mother, in which she wrote, "I
am going to be married to a great king. You and my father must come to
my wedding, and must bring my sisters with you."
They all came, and her father and mother liked the king very much, and
were glad their daughter should marry him. The wedding took place, and
they stayed with her for some time. For a whole week she gave their
servants and sepoys nice food cooked with salt, but to her father and
mother and sisters she only gave food cooked with sugar. At last they
got so tired of this sweet food that they could eat it no longer. At
the end of the week she gave them a dinner cooked with salt. Then her
father said, "My daughter is wise though she is so young, and is the
youngest of my daughters. I know now how much she loved me when she
said she loved me like salt. People cannot eat their food without
salt. If their food is cooked with sugar one day, it must be cooked
with salt the next, or they cannot eat it."
After this her father and mother and sisters went home, but they
often came to see their little daughter and her husband.
The princess, the king, and the servant-maid all lived happily
together.
Told by Múniyá.
[Decoration]
[Decoration]
XXIV.
THE DEMON IS AT LAST CONQUERED BY THE KING'S SON.
In a country there were seven men, no two of whom belonged to the same
family, or were of the same trade. One was a grain merchant's son, one
a baker's, and so on; each had a different trade.
These seven men determined they would go to seek for service in
another country. They said good-bye to their fathers and mothers, and
set off.