There is a hill in the Hazara district of the Punjab known to all by the
name of “Gundghur,” which in days gone by was a stronghold of Banditti.
It was well elevated above the plain, and on its crest there were
several projecting rocks, and there were caves among the rocks. In one
of these caves dwelt a Hindu Fakir of the begging mendicant class, who
had for a long time established himself there, and used to come out and
sit on a large rock called “Pīr Thân.”
This Fakir had the reputation of being able to produce wonderful effects
by the aid of his magic and enchantments, could cure serious diseases,
and when he liked he would say his Ram! Ram! song; for Rama was among
the avatara of Vishnu, and he would then ascend into the skies, and go
completely out of sight.
Such a Fakir was in consequence much feared by the people of the place,
and indeed in many villages round about. Most of the people living near
the Hill were “Gujors,” or Mahomedan keepers of Cattle, and from whom
the province of Gujerat was named, and it sometimes happened that their
milk did not set properly; so they used to go to the Fakir who soon made
everything right, and though he was a Hindu and they Mahomedans, yet
they went to consult him.
It so happened that one day another Fakir, a Mahomedan, who was on his
round visiting various shrines and the relics of departed Saints, came
to this “Ghazi” village, which was situated at the foot of the hill.
It was not long before he was told by the people of the wonderful doings
of the Hindu Fakir who dwelt on the “Pīr Thân”; how that he could cure
all diseases, and above all, that he could by his magic go up into the
air and depart out of sight.
“He is very good too,” they said, “to us, for when our milk refuses to
set, he soon makes matters right for us, and so we are going to him
to-morrow morning about this very thing.”
“You are! are you?” said the Mahomedan Fakir; and he was very angry with
them and said, “Now you wait, and you will see that this very night your
milk will be all as it should be.” True enough, when the morning broke
the milk was properly set.
“Now,” said the Fakir, “why do you put your faith in this “pagan” and
“idolater” who does not believe in Allah? And as for the stories you
tell me, they are not to be credited, and what he does is by trickery
and deceit.” With many other words he exhorted his followers not to be
imposed upon. Turning to the Hindus he said, “If _you_ choose to ruin
yourselves that is your affair and not mine.”
[Illustration: FAITH OPPOSED TO MAGIC.]
His followers, however, besought him just for once to come and see if
what they said was not true. He replied, “Well! you may all go, and if I
come at all, it will be later on.”
So all the people from the village, and from the villages round about,
went up to the Gundghur Hill, to see the wonders that this Hindu Fakir
could do. There was a large concourse of people, so the Mahomedan Fakir
thought that he might slip in unperceived; and overcome too with
curiosity, he had determined to see what sort of a man the Hindu Fakir
was who had carried off so many people as his followers.
They had all gone to the Gundghur Hill, and the Mahomedan Fakir thought,
“I will go now and see what is to be seen.” On arrival there he noticed
that there was a vast assemblage of people. Looking round he saw a knot
of his own followers seated together, so he joined himself to them, and
waited to see what would take place.
He was not, however, unobserved by the Hindu Fakir, who, after receiving
an ovation from all his adherents, addressed himself in a loud voice to
the multitude around, and pointing to the Mahomedan Fakir he said, “I
see here a Mahomedan Fakir of a false and wicked faith, and I tell him,
as I tell you all, that as two swords cannot go into one scabbard, so
neither can two Fakirs live in one and the same spot, and he that proves
himself to be master, let him hold the hill.”
The enthusiasm was very great when he had uttered these words, and his
own people called out, “Ascend, oh! Fakir, and put this new man to
shame.” He replied, “I will; and if he can surpass me in that, I will
give place to him and go away and leave you.”
Whereupon, divesting himself before them all of his garments, with the
exception of his waist-cloth, and repeating audibly his “Junthur
Munthur” (two Sanscrit words meaning “incantation,”) and some other
words of enchantment, and then kindling a small fire he made some passes
over it, and in the smoke that it made he gradually rose and vanished
out of sight.
“Ah! there goes our wonderful Fakir!” said all the Hindus; “and as for
this other wretched man, he does not look as if he could do anything
wonderful.”
In a measure they were right, for the Mahomedan Fakir when he witnessed
his ascent, was at his wits’ end to know how to prevail against such a
rival. Collecting, however, a few of his own followers around him, he
drew out his “Qoran” from its case. Then opening it with great caution
and solemnity, he took off the shoe from his right foot, and threw it
into the air with all his might. To the bewilderment of all, the shoe
did not return, but seemed to go also into the skies whither the Hindu
Fakir had gone. The Hindus then raised a cry: “What is a shoe compared
to a man! Go up yourself, and we will believe in you!” In patience did
the Mahomedan Fakir bear their reproaches, when suddenly there was a
sound heard in the air as if someone was beating a door with the palm of
his hand, and very shortly afterwards the body of the Hindu Fakir came
in sight, and as it descended, there was seen over his head the shoe of
the Mahomedan Fakir, which in some unaccountable way was slapping the
head of the Hindu Fakir, and beating him down to the earth, and when he
came to the ground he fell at the feet of the Mahomedan. Stunned and
confused the Hindu made a rush for his cave, and holding up his hands he
repeated audibly some words of enchantment, and then fled precipitately
into the jungle, and left that country-side for ever.
This story is told by the Mussulmen in their Hûzrâhs, as a proof that
faith will always in the long run crush and destroy the power of myth
and magic; and the moral is that Allah is pure and spotless, and there
is none righteous as He, or, as they have it in their own language:
Khudâ pâk sub sê bhullâh.
God is pure and righteous above all.
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