In two adjoining villages there lived two famous men. The one
was called Mr. Mighty-of-his-mouth [52]--one that could accomplish
wonders with words alone. The other was called Mr. Mighty-of-his-hands
[53]--one who could make no use of that glib instrument the tongue, but
was able to bear burdens, cut wood, and perform other physical labour.
It so happened that they agreed to live together in the house of
the Mr. Mighty-of-his-mouth, to try and see which of them was the
superior. They accordingly kept company for several months, till the
great feast of the nine nights (navaratri) came on. On the first day
of the feast Mr. Mighty-of-his-hands wanted to sacrifice a goat to
the goddess Kali. So he said to Mr. Mighty-of-his-mouth,
"My dear friend, we both are mighty in our way, and so it would be
shameful for us to buy the goat, that we want to sacrifice, with
money. We should manage to get it without payment."
"Yes, we must do so, and I know how," replied Mr. Mighty-of-his-mouth,
and he asked his friend to wait till that evening.
Now there lived a shepherd at one ghatika's (hour's) distance from
their house, and the two friends resolved to go to his fold that
night and steal away one of his goats. Accordingly, when it was dark,
they approached his fold. The shepherd had just finished his duties
to the mute members of his flock, and wanted to go home and have
his rice hot. But he had no second person to watch the flock, and he
must not lose his supper. So he planted his crook before the fold,
and throwing his blanket (kambali) over it, thus addressed it:
"My son, I am very hungry, and so must go for my rice. Till I return
do you watch the flock. This wood is rich in tigers and goblins
(bhutas). Some mischievous thief or bhuta--or kuta [54] may come
to steal away the sheep. Watch over them carefully." So saying the
shepherd went away.
The friends had heard what the shepherd said. Of course,
Mr. Mighty-of-his-mouth laughed within himself at this device of the
shepherd to impress upon would-be robbers that he had left some one
there to watch his sheep, while really he had only planted a pole
and thrown a blanket over it. Mr. Mighty-of-his-hands, however, did
not see the trick, and mistaking the stick to be an actual watchman
sitting at his duty before the fold, spoke thus to his friend:
"Now what are we to do? There is a watchman sitting in front of the
fold." Thereon, Mr. Mighty-of-his-mouth cleared away his doubts by
saying that it was no watchman, but a mere stick, and entered the
fold with his friend.
It had also so happened that on that very night a bhuta (goblin) had
come into the fold to steal away a sheep. It shuddered with fear on
hearing the shepherd mention the kuta, for having never heard of the
existence of kutas, it mistook this imaginary being to be something
superior in strength to itself. So thinking that a kuta might come
to the fold, and not wishing to expose itself till it knew well what
kutas were, the bhuta transformed itself into a sheep and laid itself
down among the flock. By this time the two Mighties had entered the
fold and begun an examination of the sheep. They went on rejecting
one animal after another for some defect or other, till at last they
came to the sheep which was none other than the bhuta. They tested it,
and when they found it very heavy--as, of course, it would be with
the soul of the bhuta in it--they began to tie up its legs to carry
it home. When hands began to shake it the bhuta mistook the Mighties
for the kutas, and said to itself:--
"Alas! the kutas have come to take me away. What am I to do? What
a fool I was to come into the fold!" So thought the bhuta as
Mr. Mighty-of-his-hands was carrying it away on his head, with his
friend following him behind. But the bhuta soon began to work its
devilish powers to extricate itself, and Mr. Mighty-of-his-hands
began to feel pains all over his body and said to his friend:
"My dear Mighty, I feel pains all over me. I think what we have brought
is no sheep!" Mr. Mighty-of-his-mouth was inwardly alarmed at the words
of his friend, but did not like to show that he was afraid. So he said:
"Then put down the sheep, and let us tear open its belly, so that we
shall each have only one-half of it to carry."
This frightened the bhuta, and he melted away on the head of
Mr. Mighty-of-his-hands, who, relieved of his devilish burden, was
glad to return home safe with his friend.
The bhuta, too, went to its abode and there told its fellow-goblins
how it had involved itself in a great trouble and how narrowly it
had escaped. They all laughed at its stupidity and said, "What a
great fool you are! They were not kutas. In fact there are no kutas
in the world. They were men, and it was most stupid of you to have
got yourself into their hands. Are you not ashamed to make such a fuss
about your escape?" The injured bhuta retorted that they would not have
made such remarks had they seen the kutas. "Then show us these kutas,
as you choose to call them," said they, "and we will crush them in
the twinkling of an eye." "Agreed," said the injured bhuta, and the
next night it took them to the house of the Mighties, and said from
a distance: "There is their house. I cannot approach it. Do whatever
you like." The other bhutas were amazed at the fear of their timid
brother, and resolved among themselves to put an end to the enemies
of even one member of their caste. So they went in a great crowd
to the house of the Mighties. Some stood outside the house, to see
that none of the inmates escaped, and some watched in the back-yard,
while a score of them jumped over the walls and entered the court-yard.
Mr. Mighty-of-his-hands was sleeping in the verandah, adjoining the
courtyard, and when he heard the noise of people jumping about,
he opened his eyes, and to his terror saw some bhutas in the
court. Without opening his mouth he quietly rolled himself along
the ground, and went to the room where Mr. Mighty-of-his-mouth was
sleeping with his wife and children. Tapping gently at the door he
awoke his friend and said:
"What shall we do now? The bhutas have invaded our house, and will
soon kill us."
Mr. Mighty-of-his-mouth told him quietly not to be afraid, but to go
and sleep in his original place, and that he himself would make the
bhutas run away. Mr. Mighty-of-his-hands did not understand what his
friend meant, but not wishing to argue rolled his way back to his
original place and pretended to sleep, though his heart was beating
terribly with fright. Mr. Mighty-of-his-mouth now awoke his wife,
and instructed her thus:
"My dearest wife, the foolish bhutas have invaded our house, but
if you act according to my advice we are safe, and the goblins will
depart harmlessly. What I want you to do is, to go to the hall and
light a lamp, spread leaves on the floor, and then pretend to awake
me for my supper. I shall get up and enquire what you have ready to
give me to eat. You will then reply that you have only pepper water
and vegetables. With an angry face I shall say, 'What have you done
with the three bhutas that our son caught hold of on his way back
from school?' Your reply must be, 'The rogue wanted some sweetmeats
on coming home. Unfortunately I had none in the house, so he roasted
the three bhutas and gobbled them up.'"
Thus instructing his wife Mr. Mighty-of-his-mouth pretended to go to
sleep. The wife accordingly spread the leaves and called her husband
for his supper. During the conversation that followed, the fact that
the son had roasted three goblins for sweetmeats was conveyed to the
bhutas. They shuddered at the son's extraordinary ability, and thought,
"What must the father do for his meals when a son roasts three bhutas
for sweetmeats?"
So they at once took to their heels. Then going to the brother they
had jeered at, they said to him that indeed the kutas were their
greatest enemies, and that none of their lives were safe while they
remained where they were, as on that very evening the son of a kuta
had roasted three of them for sweetmeats. They therefore all resolved
to fly away to the adjoining forest, and disappeared accordingly. Thus
Mr. Mighty-of-his-mouth saved himself and his friend on two occasions
from the bhutas.
The friends after this went out one day to an adjoining village and
were returning home rather late in the evening. Darkness fell on them
before half the way was traversed, and there lay before them a dense
wood infested by beasts of prey: so they resolved to spend the night in
a high tree and go home next morning, and accordingly got up into a big
pipal. Now this was the very wood into which the bhutas had migrated,
and at midnight they all came down with torches to catch jackals
and other animals to feast upon. The fear of Mr. Mighty-of-his-hands
may be more imagined than described. The dreaded bhutas were at the
foot of the very tree in which he had taken up his abode for the
night! His hands trembled. His body shook. He lost his hold, and down
he came with a horrible rustling of leaves. His friend, however, was,
as usual, ready with a device, and bawled out:
"I wished to leave these poor beings to their own revelry. But you
are hungry and must needs jump down to catch some of them. Do not
fail to lay your hands on the stoutest bhuta."
The goblins heard the voice which was already very familiar to their
ears, for was it not the kuta whose son had roasted up three bhutas
for sweetmeats that spoke? So they ran away at once, crying out:
"Alas, what misery! Our bitter enemies have followed us even to
this wood!"
Thus the wit of Mr. Mighty-of-his-mouth saved himself and his friend
for the third time.
The sun began to rise, and Mr. Mighty-of-his-hands thrice walked
round Mr. Mighty-of-his-mouth and said:
"My dear friend, truly you only of us two are mighty. Mere physical
strength is of no use without skill in words. The latter is far
superior to the former, and if a man possess both, he is, as it were,
a golden lotus having a sweet scent. It is enough for me now to have
arrived at this moral! With your kind permission I shall return to
my village." Mr. Mighty-of-his-mouth asked his friend not to consider
himself under any obligation, and, after honouring him as became his
position he let him return to his village.
The moral of this short story is that in man there is nothing great
but mind.