In another Hûjra in the village of “Thuvee,” on the left bank of the
Indus, the young men of the place had collected one day, as was their
custom, when one of their number called for a tale, and very shortly the
well-known narrator of the village began by saying: There was once a
great King, a very great King, an earthly King, for this great King has
gone to his dust long ago, but the greatest King of all is above. The
King I am going to tell you about lived in ancient times, and he looked
after his country very well, and had about him some clever Ministers,
but he was not happy in his home. He had two sons, the younger being
very fair and good-looking, and the King had them trained in all manner
of learning that they might succeed him in the kingdom.
Unfortunately, this younger son became at times very riotous, and
offended his father on many occasions, and though only a youth he became
so disobedient and troublesome that his father decided on banishing him
from his Palace. One morning when the son arose he found that his shoes
were “apoota,” or turned the wrong way, so he knew from that, that he
was to be turned away from home.
At a loss to know what to do, he went to his best friend and told him
what had happened, and after consulting together they said, “We must at
once fly this country, and seek our fortune in another country.” So
providing themselves with money and horses and provisions for a few
days, they mounted their horses and set off on their journey, not
knowing where to go. They took the high road for some miles, and then,
lest they might be pursued, they struck off into the jungles, and night
coming on they picketed their horses under a tree and slept up the tree
themselves for fear of wild beasts. This they continued to do for
several nights, wandering through the jungles in the daytime. One
evening they noticed at some little distance what they thought to be
smoke, so they pushed on in the hope of finding some assistance and
welcome in the dreary woods of the forest.
All of a sudden they came upon a hut surrounded with trees and
brushwood, and hearing no sound they thought that it had been deserted,
but listening very attentively they overheard the groans of a man as if
in pain. Dismounting, they opened the little door of the hut, and there
they saw a very old Fakir, bent almost double, and like to a bundle of
rags, and lying on a sort of raised place in the corner. “Arrah! Kaun
hai?” he called out, which means “Who is there?” They then told him that
they were benighted in the jungles, had consumed all their food for
themselves and their horses, and were about to seek their fortune in the
King’s country which was somewhere here-about, they thought. “Can you
please give us first some food, and then point us out the way to the
King’s country?” Upon this the old Fakir scrambled off his bed place,
and by the light of the small fire he looked at them very narrowly, and
at last he said to the King’s son, “Bucha (son), I will see what I can
do for you.” Presently he went a little distance outside his hut and
blew a sort of whistle, and in less than no time a whole troop of
Lungoors (large monkeys) came hurriedly down from the trees, chattering
amongst themselves, and looking up into his face. “Go! ten of you, at
once,” he said, “to the nearest village, loot it, and bring food for
these travellers and corn for their horses.” Without more ado, off went
a party of them in great haste, and in a very short space of time back
they came with food and corn, and put it down at the feet of the Fakir,
who seemed to speak a word of encouragement, and they departed.
After feeding their horses and refreshing themselves with a little food
the travellers were about to take their leave of the old Fakir, and
trust themselves again to their wanderings, when the Fakir said “No! you
must not go without protection.” So saying, he gave another whistle, and
more “Lungoors” came, and detaching about twenty of them he told them to
go before the travellers and to put them on the high road leading to the
King’s country, and then slightly raising his voice he said, “And mind
you do not go beyond your boundary.”
Taking a kindly leave of the Fakir, the travellers left the hut, guarded
with this escort of “Lungoors,” who, first on the ground, and then on
the trees in front, seemed to point out to them a way through the
jungles. After they had threaded their way for a considerable distance,
until it was about the dawn of the morning, the “Lungoors” began to
pause, and then all of a sudden they came to a dead stop, so the
travellers knew that they must have come as far as their boundary.
Shortly afterwards they heard a great stampede amongst the trees, and
all their “Lungoors” dispersed in an instant; then there seemed to be a
great fight going on amongst them everywhere about, and screams of the
most unearthly nature, such as they had never heard in their lives
before. Morning then coming on, they pressed their steeds towards an
opening in the jungle, and soon reached the high road. And so, on they
went at an easy pace until they saw in the distance the walls and smoke
of a great city, and the towers of a great palace. Arriving at the gates
they went in, and proceeded at once to the Palace, and asked to be taken
into the Royal presence. Ere long they were ushered before the King, and
narrated their adventures, which both interested and amused him very
much.
The King was pleased to give them service under him, and they remained
at his Court for some years. Not receiving any news of their own
country, they obtained leave from the King to visit it.
Upon their return thither, they went at once in some fear to the Palace,
expecting that the anger of the King might still be poured out upon
them; but when they told their story the King received them back into
favour, and gave to his son an office in the State, and promoted the
friend who had been his companion through their travels.
The son then bethought him of doing something in return to the kind old
Fakir who had befriended them in the jungles, and he sent a party to
persuade him to come to the Palace to live near him. The Fakir declined
to leave his hut, so the party returned. At last the King’s son went
himself, and took with him a Palkee, or covered carriage, and brought
off the Fakir to his Palace. He gave him a beautiful room, with Persian
carpets on the floor, and all other luxuries, and hoped that he might
spend the few more years he might have to live, in every possible
comfort. But the old Fakir felt everything very distasteful to him, and
the more the King’s son tried to make him at his ease, the more
distressed the old man became, so that in the end the Prince had to
allow him to return to his hut in the jungle where he had spent nearly
all his life, with the “Lungoors” as his friends.
In course of time the news was brought to the King’s son that the old
Fakir was dead, so he and his friend had him conveyed to the city, where
he was buried in great pomp; and afterwards a noble Shrine was erected
to his memory, and a yearly visit was ever afterwards paid to it by the
King’s son and his devoted friend.
---------------------