The sun had gone down one day in the Mahomedan village of “Huzro,” in
the Hazara district, and it had become too late to work and too early
for sleep, when the young men and others in the village congregated
together to while away the time by narrating tales of the past.
Though really a Mahomedan village, there were several Hindu shops there,
and some of the Hindus joined the company.
It was not long before one of the number was encouraged to tell a tale,
and he began by saying “Yek vella: Once upon a time,” and then he
stopped; then there was a general laugh, and he made bold to begin
again, and then said:
Many years ago there was a Donkey-man, a poor man, who used to carry
grain from place to place somewhere in the Punjab. One day as he was
crossing a small river he picked up a stone of a reddish colour, and as
it looked pretty and out of the common he thought he would keep it; and
so to preserve it he tied it on to the neck of his best donkey, and
there it hung as a sort of ornament. He did not know it was a gem, you
see, but only thought it was a nice-looking stone, and that he had never
seen one like it before.
As he journeyed on with his donkeys he had to cross the “Chenâb” river,
and went down to the ferry, where he got into conversation with the
Ferryman while they were all waiting for sufficient passengers and goods
to cross the stream. Looking at the donkeys the Ferryman came at last to
the donkey with the ornament on his neck, and he said to the
grain-carrier, “Where did you find this pretty stone?” He told him that
he was crossing the bed of a little river and saw it. The Ferryman
looked at it again, but he did not know that it was a precious stone,
yet he wanted it to decorate one of his oars; so he said to the
Donkey-man, “You do not seem to care much for the stone; give it to me,
and I will take you and your donkeys across for nothing.” So the
Donkey-man agreed, and the Ferryman tied it on to his oar, and kept
looking at it as he went on with his work, singing his usual song,
“Chiko bhâyo, Chiko bhâyo, Chik!” and beating time with his feet.
Some days after this a Jeweller, or “Johari,” was crossing by the ferry,
and his eye at once caught sight of the stone on the Ferryman’s oar, and
taking a look at it (for the Ferryman was rather proud to exhibit it),
he in a moment became convinced that it was a ruby of a very large and
unusual size, and he made up his mind that before he left the ferry he
would get it into his possession in some way or another. He was, in
fact, quite excited about it, and feared that at any moment it might
drop into the water and be lost; but he was a cunning man and did not
show his feelings, but said quietly to the Ferryman, “That is a very
pretty sort of a stone you have on your oar; are you not afraid to lose
it? Will you sell it to me?” Now, the Ferryman was not quite sure that
he was a jeweller, or he might have been on his guard, but thought him
to be only an ordinary traveller, and he too was almost as ignorant as
the Donkey-man. The Jeweller said to him, “You might turn it into
rupees!” “Well, some day I shall, perhaps, when I want money,” said the
Ferryman, “but it is not worth very much, and I got it from an old
Donkey-man for taking him across the stream one day.” When they got to
the opposite shore the Jeweller said before leaving, “I will give you
five rupees for that stone.” “No!” said the Ferryman, “I don’t want
money now,” “But,” said the Jeweller, “If I give you ten rupees? and I
am not coming this way again, you had better take it.” To this the
Ferryman agreed, and the Jeweller obtained possession of this precious
and valuable ruby for so small a sum as ten rupees, and he went away
very rejoiced at his bargain.
When the Jeweller got home he handled it over and over again and felt
sure that he had got a great prize; so he folded it in several rags,
folds of rag, as the custom of lapidaries, or jewellers is, as you know,
and put it very carefully by in a little box where he kept his best
jewels.
It happened a year or two after this that the Rajah of the country not
far from where the Jeweller lived, wanted some precious stones for a new
Chair of State, or “Takht,” and he sent his trusted messengers to all
the jewellers round about the neighbourhood to make enquiries for gems,
and especially for rubies.
The messengers came to the Jeweller who had the stone I have been
telling you about, and they asked him whether he had any fine stones to
sell. At first the Jeweller said, “No, my friends,” for he feared that
the Rajah might take his jewels by force; but when they told him not to
be afraid, for the Rajah was very rich but was in need of precious
stones for his Chair of State, the Jeweller went to his little box, and
bringing to them the stone that he had set such value upon, he proceeded
to untie and unwind the soiled rags one by one, in the presence of the
messengers.
When he had untied the last rag, what was his grief and agony of soul to
find that the precious ruby was in two distinct pieces!
He gazed in amazement for a little, when suddenly, in the hearing of
them all, a voice came from the broken ruby, saying, “Now, behold! I
have on purpose made myself of no value or service to you! When I was on
the donkey’s neck I was in the hands and charge of one who knew not my
real value; when, again, I was on the Ferryman’s oar, he was just as
ignorant of his treasure; when I came into your hands, who knew well my
worth, you estimated my price at five to ten rupees only! Learn,
therefore, not to undervalue what is good for a mean and selfish object;
nor to disparage your best friend, or you will live to rue the day, and
repent as bitterly as you now do and will do, for the remainder of your
life.”
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