in Muir, vol. I. He gives a summary of it from the _Marka[n.][d.]eya
Purá[n.]a_. It is also found in the 'Chanda Kauçikam,' and in Mutu
Coomara Swamy's 'Martyr of Truth.' The following is Muir's summary
summarized. Hariçchandra was a king who lived in the Tretá age, and
was renowned for his virtue, and for the universal prosperity, moral
and physical, which prevailed during his reign. One day he heard a
sound of female lamentation which proceeded from the Sciences who were
becoming mastered by the austere Sage, Viçvamitra, in a way they had
never been before. He rushed to their assistance as a Kshatriya bound
to succour the oppressed. By a haughty speech he provoked Viçvamitra,
and in consequence of his wrath the Sciences instantly perished. (In
the 'Chanda Kauçikam,' as far as I remember, we are told that the
anger of Viçvamitra interfered with the success of his austerity.) The
king says he had only done his duty as a king, which involves the
bestowal of gifts on Bráhmans and the succour of the weak. Viçvamitra
thereupon demands from the king as a gift the whole earth, everything
but himself, his son, and his wife. The king gives it him. Then
Viçvamitra demands his sacrificial fee; the king goes to Benares,
followed by the relentless Sage, the ruler of Çiva, and is compelled
to sell his wife. She is bought by a rich old Bráhman. The son cries
and the Bráhman buys him too. But Hariçchandra has not enough, even
now, to satisfy Viçvamitra, so he sells himself to a Chá[n.][d.]ála,
who is really Dharma, the god of righteousness. The Chá[n.][d.]ála
(man of the lowest caste), carries off the king, bound, beaten, and
confused. The Chá[n.][d.]ála sends him to steal clothes in a cemetery.
There he lives twelve months. His wife comes to the cemetery to
perform the obsequies of her son, who had died from the bite of a
serpent. The two determine to burn themselves with the corpse of their
son. When Hariçchandra, after placing his son on the funeral pyre, is
meditating on the Supreme Spirit, the lord Hari Náráya[n.]a
Krish[n.]a, all the gods arrive headed by Dharma (righteousness) and
accompanied by Viçvamitra. Dharma entreats the king to desist from his
rash enterprise, and Indra announces to him that he, his wife, and his
son have gained heaven by their good works. Ambrosia and flowers are
rained by the god from the sky, and the king's son is restored to the
bloom of youth. The king, adorned with celestial clothing and
garments, and the queen, embrace their son. Hariçchandra, however,
declares that he cannot go to heaven till he has received his master
the Chá[n.][d.]ála's permission, and paid him a ransom. Dharma, the
god of righteousness, then says that he had miraculously assumed the
form of a Chá[n.][d.]ála. The king requests that his subjects may
accompany him to heaven, at least for one day. This request is granted
by Indra; and after Viçvamitra has inaugurated the king's son,
Rohitaçva, as his successor, Hariçchandra, his friends and followers,
all ascend to heaven."
XIV.--LOVING LAILÍ.
1. Majnún is a celebrated lover, whose love for Lailí or Lailá is the
subject of many Eastern poems. In this story he does not play a
brilliant part.
2. Lailí's knife is like the sun-hero's weapon (the sun's ray), which
lengthens at its owner's pleasure (Gubernatis, _Zoological Mythology_,
vol. II. p. 147).
3. She cuts her little finger. See "the Bél Princess," p. 141, and
paragraph 2 of the note to "Shekh Faríd." "The little finger, though
the smallest, is the most privileged of the five. It is the one that
knows everything." A Piedmontese mother says, "My little finger tells
me everything" (Gubernatis, _Zoological Mythology_, vol. I. p. 166).
We have a somewhat similar saying in England. In a Russian story
quoted by the same author in the same work (vol. II. p. 151), an old
woman while baking a cake, cuts off her little finger and throws it
into the fire. From the little finger in the fire is born a strong
dwarf who afterwards does many wonderful things. In the tale of the
five fingers ("Die Maehr von den fuenf Fingern," Haltrich's
_Siebenbuergische Maerchen_, p. 325), where each finger decides what
it will do, the little one says, "I will help with wise counsel." In
consequence of this assistance, to this day, "when any one has a wise
idea (Einfall), he says 'that his little finger told him that'" (p.
327). In Finnish mythology we again find the little finger. "The Para,
also originated in the Swedish Bjaeren or Bare, a magical three-legged
being, manufactured in various ways, and which, says Castrén, attained
life and motion when its possessor, cutting the little finger of his
left hand, let three drops of blood fall on it, at the same time
pronouncing the proper spell." ("The Mythology of Finnland," _Fraser's
Magazine_ for May 1857, p. 532.)
In Rink's _Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo_, p. 441, there is an
account of Kanak's visit to the man of the moon, where he meets a
woman who, he is warned, will take out his entrails if she can only
make him laugh. He follows the moon-man's advice, which is to rub his
leg with the nail of his little finger when he can no longer keep from
smiling, and so saves himself from the old hag. Rishya ['S]riñga (to
return to the land of our fairy tales) threw a drop of water from the
nail of his little finger on a Rakshas who, in the form of a tiger,
was rushing to devour him. The demon instantly quitted the tiger's
body, and asked the Rishi what he should do. He followed the holy
man's instructions and obtained môksha (salvation)--see _Indian
Antiquary_ for May 1873, p. 142, "The Legend of Rishya ['S]riñga,"
told by V. N. Narasimmiyengar of Bangalor.
XV.--HOW KING BURTAL BECAME A FAKÍR.
1. The Fakír strikes the dead antelope with his wand (_chábuk_), as in
"Shekh Faríd," p. 98. In both cases Dunkní says the wand used was a
long, slender piece of bamboo. I do not know whether the bamboo is a
lightning-plant. Possibly it is, being a grass (some grasses are
lightning-plants, see Fiske's _Myths and Mythmakers_, pp. 56, 61), and
also because its long slender stems are lance-shaped. If it does
belong to this class, naturally a blow from a bamboo (or lightning)
wand would give life, for, says Fiske (_ib._ p. 60), "the association
of the thunder-storm with the approach of summer has produced many
myths in which the lightning is symbolized as the life-renewing wand
of the victorious sun-god."
2. The king tries to hide the ball in his hair. The wonderful power
and strength of hair appears in tales from all lands: Signor de
Gubernatis suggests that, in the case of solar heroes, their hair is
the sun's rays (_Zoological Mythology_, vol. I. p. 117, vol. II. p.
154); and it seems to me possible that, just as the _colour_ of the
solar hero's hair has been appropriated by Indian fairy-tale princes
who are not solar, the _qualities_ of his hair may have been
attributed to that of folk-lore heroes who are not solar, and may also
have been the origin of some of the strange superstitions prevalent
about human hair. This theory, if correct, would account for most of
the strange things that I have hitherto met about hair. It must be
remembered that the sun's rays are also his weapons; they turn to
thunderbolts when the sun is hidden in the rain-clouds (Gubernatis,
_ib._ vol. I. pp. 9, 17), and also to lightning (see _ib._ vol. II. p.
10, where the sun under the form of a bull is spoken of as the fire
which sends forth lightning).
First there is Samson, whose name, according to Gesenius, means
"solar," "like the sun." Of the hero Firud, it is told "that a single
hair of his head has more strength in it than many warriors"
(Gubernatis, _Zoological Mythology_, vol. I. p. 117). Conan was the
weakest man of the Féinn, because they used to keep him cropped. "He
had but the strength of a man; but if the hair should get leave to
grow, there was the strength of a man in him for every hair that was
in his head; but he was so cross that if the hair should grow he would
kill them all" (Campbell's _Popular Tales of the West Highlands_, vol.
III. p. 396). At p. 91 of Schmidt's _Griechische Maerchen, Sagen und
Volkslieder_, is the story of a king, "Der Capitän Dreizehn," who is
"the strongest of his time," and who has three long hairs, so long
that they could be twisted twice round the hand on his breast. When
these are cut off he becomes the weakest of men. When these grow again
he regains his strength. The sun's rays have most power when they are
longest, _i.e._ when the sun is in apogee.
Possibly from this old forgotten myth about the solar hero's hair came
some superstition to which was due the Merovingian decree that only
princes of the blood-royal should wear their hair long; cutting their
long hair made them incapable of becoming kings. Their slaves were
shaved. The barbarians ruled that only their free men should wear long
hair, and that the slaves should be shaved. Professor Monier Williams,
in the _Contemporary Review_ for January 1879, p. 265, says that
Govind, the 10th Guru and founder of the Sikh nationality, ordered the
Sikhs to wear their hair long to distinguish themselves from other
nations.
In the Slavonic story, "Leben, Abenteuer und Schwaenke des kleinen
Kerza," is a dwarf magician with a long white beard. With a hair from
this beard Kerza binds the magician's wicked wife, who has taken the
form of a wooden pillar the better to carry out her evil ends. From
that moment it was impossible for her to take again her own shape or
to use her former magic powers (Vogl's _Volksmaerchen_, p. 227). One
of the tasks set by Yspaddaden Penkawr to Kilhwch before he will give
him his daughter Olwen to wife, is to get him "a leash made from the
beard of Dissull Varvawc, for that is the only one that can hold the
two cubs. And the leash will be of no avail unless it be plucked from
his beard while he is alive, and twitched out with wooden tweezers ...
and the leash will be of no use should he be dead because it will be
brittle,"--that is, when the sun is set (dead) his rays have no power
(_Mabinogion_, vol. II. p. 288). The same idea lies at the bottom of
the English superstition that "if a person's hair burn brightly when
thrown into the fire, it is a sign of longevity; the brighter the
flame, the longer the life. On the other hand, if it smoulder away,
and refuse to burn, it is a sign of approaching death" (Henderson's
_Folk-lore of the Northern Counties of England_, p. 84).
The Malays have a story of a woman, called Utahigi, in whose head grew
a single white hair endowed with magic power. When her husband pulled
it out a great storm arose and Utahigi went up to heaven. She was a
bird (or cloud) maiden, and this hair must have been the lightning
drawn from the cloud. The Servian Atalanta, when nearly overtaken by
her lover, takes a hair from the top of her head and throws it behind
her. It becomes a mighty wood (clouds are the forests and mountains of
the sky, Gubernatis, _Zoological Mythology_, vol. I. p. 11),
Karadschitsch, _Volksmaerchen der Serben_, p. 25, in the story "von
dem Maedchen das behender als das Pferd ist." In Schmidt's
_Griechische Maerchen, Sagen und Volkslieder_, p. 79, the king's
daughter as she flies with her lover from the Lamnissa throws some of
her own hairs behind her, and they become a great lake (thunderbolts
and lightning bring rain). At p. 98 of the same work is the story "Der
Riese vom Berge." When this giant wishes to enter his great high
mountain, he takes a hair from his head and touches the mountain with
it. The mountain at once splits in two (p. 101). The king's daughter
in her encounter with the Efreet, "plucked a hair from her head and
muttered with her lips, whereupon the hair became converted into a
piercing sword with which she struck the lion [the Efreet], and he was
cleft in twain by her blow; but his head became changed into a
scorpion" (Lane's _Arabian Nights_, vol. I. p. 156). A Baba Yaga, in
Ralston's _Russian Folk Tales_, p. 147, plucks one of her hairs, ties
three knots in it, and blows, and thus petrifies her victims. She is a
personification of the spirit of the storm, _ib._ p. 164. In _Old
Deccan Days_, at p. 62, the old Rakshas says to Ramchundra, "You must
not touch my hair;" "the least fragment of my hair thrown in the
direction of the jungle would instantly set it in a blaze." Ramchundra
steals two or three of the hairs, and when escaping from the Rakshas,
flings them to the winds and fires the jungle. Chandra (p. 266 of the
same book) avenges the death of her husband by tearing her hair, which
burns and instantly sets fire to the land; all the people in it but
herself and a few who had been kind to her and are therefore saved,
were burnt in this great fire.
In these tales a single hair from the head of the Princess Labám (the
lunar ray can pierce the cloud as well as a solar ray) cuts a thick
tree-trunk in two, p. 163.
Hair has another property; it can tell things to its owners. See the
three hairs the Queen gives Coachman Toms, saying, "They will always
tell you the truth when you question them." (Stier's _Ungarische
Volksmaerchen_, p. 176), and which, later in the story (p. 186)
adjudge the king worthy of death. (See Grimm's story _Kinder und
Hausmaerchen_, vol. II. p. 174, "The clear sun brings day.") Also "Das
wunderbare Haar" (Karadschitsch _Volksmaerchen der Serben_, p. 180),
which is blood-red, and in which when split open were found written a
multitude of noteworthy events from the beginning of the world. (The
sun's rays have existed since the early ages of the world.) The girl
from whose head the hair is taken threads a needle with the sun's rays
and embroiders a net made of the hair of heroes.
See, too, the Eskimo account of the removal of Disco Island in Rink's
_Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo_, p. 464, where one old man vainly
tries to keep back the island by means of a seal-skin thong which
snaps, while two other old men haul it away triumphantly by the hair
from the head of a little child, chanting their spells all the time.
Their success was, perhaps, due to the spells, not to the hair. In the
notes to Der Capitän Dreizehn in Schmidt's _Griechische Maerchen,
Sagen und Volkslieder_, there are some instances of the strength given
by hair to those on whom it grows.
2. The líchí is Nephelium Litchi.
3. King Burtal's eldest son's name _Sazádá_ is perhaps the boy's title
Shahzádá (born of a king), prince. Dunkní says it is his name.
XVI.--SOME OF THE DOINGS OF SHEKH FARÍD.
1. Kheláparí means "playful fairy:" Gulábsá, "like a rose."
2. In another version told to me this year by Dunkní, when Gursan Rájá
wakes and learns how long his wife has stood by him, he is horrified,
and refuses the water, saying he does not want it. He tells her that
as a reward for her patience and goodness, she shall know of herself
everything that happens in other countries--floods, fires, and other
troubles; that she shall be able to bring help; and should any one die
from having his throat cut she shall be able to restore him to life,
by smearing the wound with some blood taken from an incision in her
little finger. Kheláparí's acquaintance with Shekh Faríd begins in
this version as follows:--She was standing at the door of her house
looking down the road, when she saw coming towards her Shekh Faríd,
the cartman, and the bullock-cart laden with what once was sugar, but
now, thanks to the fakír, is ashes. Through her gift Kheláparí knows
all that has happened, though the miracle was not performed in her
sight; and Shekh Faríd being a fakír, though his all-knowing talent
does not equal hers, knows that she knows. The cartman is in despair
when he discovers the ashes, and implores Shekh Faríd to help him. The
fakír sends him to Kheláparí, saying he must appeal to her as her
power of doing good excels his (the fakír's); that though he could
turn sugar to ashes, he could not turn the ashes to sugar. Kheláparí
at the cartman's prayer performs this miracle. Their next encounter is
by a tank in the jungle by which the holy man is resting. She is
hurrying along to put out the fire at her father's palace. The Shekh
cannot understand how it is possible for any woman to know of herself
what is happening twenty miles off, when he, a fakír, can only know
what passes at a short distance, so he follows the Rání to test her
truthfulness, and arrives in time to see her helping to put out the
fire. The rest of the story is the same as the version printed in this
collection.
3. This Shekh Faríd was a famous Súfí saint. He was a contemporary of
Nának, and many of his sayings are embodied in the Granth. In Central
India, there is a holy hill of his called Girur. The Gazetteer of the
Central Provinces edited by C. Grant, 2nd edition, Nágpur, 1870, says
that articles of merchandise belonging to two travelling traders who
mocked the saint passed before him, on which he turned the whole
stock-in-trade into stones as a punishment. They implored his pardon,
and he created a fresh stock for them from dry leaves, on which they
were so struck by his power that they attached themselves permanently
to his service, and two graves on the hill are said to be theirs. In
the _Pioneer_ for 5th August 1878, Pekin has a poem on a similar
legend about the saint. Standing on his holy hill, one day Shekh Faríd
saw a packman pass and he begged for alms. The packman mocked him.
Then the saint asked what his sacks contained. "Stones," was the
answer. The Shekh said, "Sooth--they are but worthless stones."
Whereupon all the sacks burst, and the contents, at one time different
kinds of spices, fell stones to the ground. The owner implored the
saint's mercy. Shekh Faríd told him to fill his sacks with leaves from
the trees, which was done, and then the leaves became gold mohurs. The
packman turned saint too and left his bones on Girur. A similar
miracle is told of the Irish Saint, Brigit. "Once upon a time Brigit
beheld a man with salt on his back. 'What is that on thy back?' saith
Brigit; 'Stones,' saith the man. 'They shall be stones then,' saith
Brigit, and of the salt stones were made. The same man again cometh to
(or past) Brigit. 'What is that on thy back?' saith Brigit. 'Salt,'
saith the man. 'It shall be salt then,' saith Brigit. Salt was made
again thereof through Brigit's word." (_Three Middle Irish Homilies_,
p. 81.)
4. Fakírchand means the moon of fakírs. Mohandás, the servant of the
Mohan (Krish[n.]a). Champákálí is a necklace made in imitation of the
closed buds of the champa or champak flowers.
5. The demons, in Hindústání _dew_ (pronounced deo), god, are
something like the Rakshases. They have wings, and have exceedingly
long lips, one of which sticks up in the air, while the other hangs
down. One of King Arthur's warriors, "Gwevyl, the son of Gwestad, on
the day that he was sad, he would let one of his lips drop below his
waist while he turned up the other like a cap upon his head"
(_Mabinogion_, vol. II. p. 266, "Kilhwch and Olwen").
XVII.--THE MOUSE.
1. Unluckily, when Karím was with us, I neglected to write down the
name of the grain that kills the mouse, and all the wonderful things
he told us of the properties of this grain. His explanations were a
kind of note given after he had finished the story.
2. The only parallel I can find to this story is one in Bleek's
_Hottentot Fables and Tales_, p. 90, called "The unreasonable child to
whom the dog gave its deserts; or a receipt for putting any one to
sleep," in which the child indulges in the uncalled for generosity and
unreasonable rage of the mouse.
XVIII.--A WONDERFUL STORY.
1. Ajít means unsubdued, invincible.
2. The wrestler's mode of announcing his arrival at Ajít's house is,
probably, the solitary result of many efforts to induce Karím himself
to knock at the nursery door before he marched into the nursery. I
never heard of natives knocking at each other's house-doors.
3. With these wrestlers compare Grimm's "Der junge Riese," _Kinder und
Hausmaerchen_, vol. II. p. 23, and "Eisenhans" in Haltrich's
_Siebenbuergische Maerchen_, p. 77.
4. Ajít carries her house. Note by Mr. J. F. Campbell: "Compare an
Irish story about Fionn and a giant who was told that the hero turned
the house when the wind blew open the door." [See, too, Campbell's
_Tales of the Western Highlands_, vol. III. p. 184]
5. When Karím was here I forgot to ask him how big were Ajít's cakes,
can, and mice. Mr. Campbell of Islay, who read this story in
manuscript, wrote in the margin where the mice were mentioned: "The
fleas in the island of Java are so big that they come out from under
the bed and steal potatoes. They do many such things. Compare [with
Ajít's can] a Gaelic story about a man who found the Fenians in an
island, and was offered a drink in a can so large that he could not
move it."
6. Mr. G. H. Damant, in the _Indian Antiquary_ for September 1873,
vol. II. p. 271, has a Dinájpur story called "Two gánja-eaters" which
is very like our Wonderful Story. In it a gánja-eater who can eat six
maunds of gánja[7] hears of another gánja-eater who can eat nine
maunds; so he takes his six maunds of gánja, and sets off for his
rival's country with the intention of fighting him. On the road he is
thirsty and drinks a whole pond dry, but this fails to quench his
thirst. Arrived at the nine-maund gánja-eater's house, he learns from
the wife that her husband has gone to cut sugar-cane, and decides to
go and meet him. He finds him in the jungle, and wishes to fight there
and then; but his rival does not agree to this, saying he has eaten
nothing for seven days. The other answers he has eaten nothing for
nine; whereupon the nine-maund gánja-eater suggests they shall wait
till they get back to his country, as in the jungle they will have no
spectators. The six-maund gánja-eater consents. So the nine-maund
gánja-eater takes up all the sugar-cane he has cut during the last
seven days and sets off for his country with his rival. On the way
they meet a fish-wife, and call her to stop and see them fight; she
answers she must carry her fish without delay to market, being already
late, and proposes they should stand on her arm and fight, and that
then she could see them as they go along. While they are fighting on
her arm, down sweeps a kite which carries off "the gánja-eaters; fish
and all." They are thrown by a storm in front of a Rájá's daughter,
who has them swept away thinking they are bits of straw.
FOOTNOTE:
[7] An intoxicating preparation of the hemp-plant (_Cannabis
sativa_ or _C. indica_).
XIX.--THE FAKÍR NÁNAKSÁ SAVES THE MERCHANT'S LIFE.
1. Nánaksá, _i.e._ Nának Sháh, is doubtless the first guru of the
Sikhs (about A.D. 1460-1530).
2. With the transmigration of the souls of the merchant's father,
grandmother, and sister into the goat, the old woman and his little
daughter, compare a Dinájpur story published by Mr. G. H. Damant in the
_Indian Antiquary_ for June 7, 1872, vol. I. p. 172, in which a king
threatens to kill a Bráhman if he does not explain what he means by
saying to the king every day, "As thy liberality, so thy virtue." By
his new-born daughter's advice the Bráhman tells the king this child
would explain it to him. Accordingly the king comes to the Bráhman's
house and is received smilingly "by the two-and-a-half-days-old
daughter. She sends the king for the desired information to a certain
red ox, who in his turn" sends him to a clump of Shahara (_Trophis
aspera_) trees. The trees tell him he has been made king in this state
of existence, because in a former state of existence he was liberal and
full of charity; that in this former state the child just born as the
Bráhman's daughter was his wife: that the red ox was then his son, and
that this son's wife, as a punishment for her hardness and
uncharitableness, had "become the genius of this grove of trees."
3. Jabrá'íl is the Archangel Gabriel.
XX.--THE BOY WHO HAD A MOON ON HIS FOREHEAD AND A STAR ON HIS CHIN.
1. For these marks see paragraph 4 of the notes to Phúlmati Rání. I
think the silver chains with which King Oriant's children are born
(see the Netherlandish story, the Knight of the Swan, quoted in
paragraph 3 of the notes to the Pomegranate King) are identical with
the suns, moons, and stars that the hero in this and in many other
tales possesses. They are his princely insignia and proofs of his
royalty. When the boy in this tale twists his right ear his insignia
are hidden, and so long as they remain concealed no one can guess he
is a king's son, unless he chooses to reveal himself, as he does,
partially, through his sweet singing to the youngest princess. With
this partial revelation compare the Sicilian "Stupid Peppe" revealing
himself in part by means of the ring he gave to his youngest princess.
This ring has the property of flashing brightly whenever he is near.
(See the story "Von dem muthigen Königssohn, der viele Abenteuer
erlebte" quoted in paragraph 6 of the notes to this story, p. 280.)
The shape of the insignia may have been destroyed, as in the case of
the sixth swan's chain, in the Netherlandish story, but its substance
remains, and as soon as it reappears the hero clothes himself with his
own royal form. Chundun Rájá's necklace (_Old Deccan Days_, p. 230)
and Sodewa Bai's necklace (_ib._ p. 236), in which lay their life,
belong, perhaps, to these insignia. Their princely owners' existence
depends on their keeping these proofs of their royalty in their own
possession, and is suspended whenever the proofs pass into the hands
of others.
2. The gardener's daughter promises to bear her husband a son with the
moon on his forehead and a star on his chin. Compare "Die verstossene
Königin und ihre beiden ausgesetzten Kinder," Gonzenbach's
_Sicilianische Maerchen_, vol. I. p. 19, where the girl (p. 21)
promises to give the king, if he marries her, a son with a golden
apple in his hand, and a daughter with a silver star on her forehead.
Also compare with our story "Truth's Triumph" in _Old Deccan Days_, p.
50. In Indian stories, as in European tales, the gardener and his
family often play an important part, the hero being frequently the son
of the gardener's daughter, or else protected by the gardener and his
wife.
3. With the kettle-drum compare the golden bell given by the Rájá to
Guzra Bai in "Truth's Triumph" (_Old Deccan Days_, p. 53); and the
flute given by the nymph Tillottama to her husband in the "Finding of
the Dream," a Dinájpur story published by Mr. G. H. Damant in the
_Indian Antiquary_, February 1875, vol. IV. p. 54. See also paragraph
7, p. 287, of notes to "How the Rájá's son won the Princess Labám."