"My dear Chandralekha, do you not know that I am the tutor of the
prince, the minister's son and several others of great wealth in
Kaivalyam? Of money I have more than enough. I do not want a single
mohar from you, but what I want is that you should marry me." [93]
Thus spoke the shameless teacher, and Chandralekha's face changed
colour. She was horrified to hear such a suggestion from one whom she
had thought till then to be an incarnation of perfection. But, still
hoping to convince him of the unjustness of the request, she said:--
"My most holy master! The deep respect I entertain towards your holy
feet is such that, though your holiness's words are plain, I am led
to think that they are merely uttered to test my character. Does not
your holiness know the rules by which a preceptor is to be regarded
as a father, and that I thus stand in the relationship of a daughter
to your holiness? So kindly forget all that your holiness has said,
and accepting what I have brought in my humble state, permit me to
go home."
But the wretched teacher never meant anything of the sort. He had
spoken in earnest, and his silence now and lascivious look at once
convinced the dancing-girl's daughter of what was passing in his
mind. So she quickly went out and told her servants to take back
the money.
At home Muttumohana was anxiously awaiting the return of her daughter,
and as soon as Chandralekha came in without the usual cheerfulness in
her face, and without having given the presents, her mother suspected
that something had gone wrong, and inquired of her daughter the cause
of her gloom. She then related to her mother the whole story of her
interview with her old master. Muttumohana was glad to find such a
firm heart in her daughter, and blessed her, saying that she would
be wedded to a young husband, and lead a chaste life, though born of
the dancing-girls' caste. The money she safely locked up in her room.
Now, the Brahmin, in consequence of his disappointment, was very angry
with Chandralekha, and, that no young and wealthy gentleman might
visit her house, he spread reports that Chandralekha was possessed of
a demon (kuttichchatti). So no one approached Chandralekha's house to
win her love, and her mother was much vexed. Her great wish was that
some respectable young man should secure her daughter's affections,
but the master's rumours stood in the way. And thus a year passed,
and the belief that a kuttichchatti had possessed Chandralekha gained
firm ground.
After what seemed to these two to be a long period, a sage happened to
visit Muttumohana's house, and she related to him all her daughter's
story. He listened and said:--
"Since the belief that a demon has taken possession of your daughter
has taken firm hold of the citizens, it is but necessary now that
she should perform (puja) worship to the demon-king on the night of
the new moon of this month in the cremation-ground. Let her do this
and she will be all right, for then some worthy young man can secure
her affections."
So saying the sage went away, and his advice seemed to be reasonable
to the mother. She very well knew that no such demon had possessed
her daughter, but that it was all the master's idle report. But still,
to wipe away any evil notion in the minds of the people she publicly
proclaimed that her daughter would perform puja in the cremation-ground
at midnight at the next new moon. [94] Now, it is always the rule in
such rites that the person who is possessed should go alone to the
cremation-ground, and, accordingly, on the night of the next new moon,
Chandralekha went to the burning-ground with a basket containing all
the necessary things for worship, and a light.
Near Kaivalyam, at a distance of five kos from it, was a great
forest called Khandavam. In it there dwelt eight robbers, who used
to commit the greatest havoc in the country round. At the time that
Chandralekha proceeded to the cremation-ground, these eight robbers
also happened to go there to conceal what they had stolen in the
earlier part of that night. Then, being relieved of their burden,
they determined to go to some other place to plunder during the
latter half of the night also. When Chandralekha heard the sound of
footsteps at a distance she feared something wrong, and, covering up
her glittering light by means of her empty basket, concealed herself
in a hollow place. The thieves came and looked round about them. They
found nobody, but, fearing that some one might be near, one of them
took out an instrument called kannakkol, and, whirling it round his
head, threw it towards the east. This kannakkol is the instrument
by which these robbers bore holes in walls and enter buildings, and
some robbers say they get it from a thunderbolt. During a stormy
day they make a large heap of cow-dung, into which a thunderbolt
falls and leaves a rod in the middle, which is so powerful that it
can bore even through stone walls without making any noise. It has
also the attribute of obeying its master's orders. So when the chief
of the eight robbers threw his kannakkol towards the east, true to
its nature, it fell into the hole in which Chandralekha was hiding,
and began to pierce her in the back. As soon as she felt it, she
dragged it out by both her hands without making the slightest noise,
and, throwing it under her feet, stood firmly over it. The robbers,
having concealed the eight boxes of wealth they had brought with
them in the sands near the cremation-ground, went away to spend the
remaining part of the night usefully in their own fashion.
As soon as the robbers had left the place Chandralekha came out, and,
taking possession of the robbers' rod, took out the eight boxes that
the robbers had buried. With these she quickly hastened home, where
her mother was awaiting her return. She soon made her appearance,
and related all that had occurred during the night to her mother. They
soon removed the contents of the boxes and locked them up safely. Then,
taking the empty boxes, she filled them up with stones, old iron and
other useless materials, and, arranging them two and two by the side
of each leg of her cot, went to sleep on it.
As the night was drawing to a close, the robbers, with still more
booty, came to the ground, and were thunderstruck when they missed
their boxes. But as the day was dawning they went away into the jungle,
leaving the investigation of the matter to the next night. They were
astonished at the trick that had been played upon them and were very
anxious to find out the thief who had outwitted thieves. Now they were
sure that their boring-rod, which they had aimed against the unknown
person who might be lurking in the smasanam (cremation-ground),
must have wounded him. So one of them assumed the guise of an
ointment-seller, [95] and, with some ointment in a cocoanut-bottle,
began to walk the streets of Kaivalyam city, crying out:--
"Ointment to sell. The best of ointments to cure new wounds and old
sores. Please buy my ointment."
And the other seven thieves assumed seven different disguises and
also went wandering round the streets of the city. A maid-servant
of Chandralekha had seen that her mistress was suffering from the
effects of a wound in her back, and never suspecting a thief in the
medicine seller, called out to the ointment-man and took him inside
the house. She then informed Chandralekha that she had brought in
an ointment-man, and that she would do well to buy a little of his
medicine for her wound. The clever Chandralekha at once recognised the
thief in the medicine vendor, and he too, as he was a very cunning
brute, recognised in the young lady the thief of his boxes, and
found her wound to be that made by his boring-rod. They soon parted
company. The lady bought a little ointment, and the thief in disguise,
gladly giving a little of his precious stuff from his cocoanut-bottle,
went away. The eight thieves had appointed a place outside Kaivalyam
for their rendezvous, and there they learnt who had robbed them of
their treasure. Not wishing to remain idle, they chose that very
night both to break into Chandralekha's house and bring away herself
and their boxes.
Chandralekha, too, was very careful. She locked up all the treasures
and kept the eight boxes filled with rubbish, so as to correspond with
their original weights, under the cot on which she slept, or rather
pretended to sleep, that night. The thieves in due course made a hole
into her bedroom and entered. They found her to all appearance sound
asleep, and to their still greater joy, they found beneath her cot
their eight boxes.
"The vixen is asleep. Let us come to-morrow night and take her away;
but first let us remove our boxes."
So saying to each other, they took their boxes, each placing one on his
head, and returned in haste to their cave, which they reached early in
the morning. But when they opened the boxes to sort out their booty,
astonishment of astonishments, their eyes met only broken pieces of
stone, lumps of iron, and other such rubbish. Every one of them placed
his forefinger at right angles to the tip of his nose, and exclaimed:--
"Ah! A very clever girl. She has managed to deceive us all. But let
this day pass. We shall see whether she will not fall into our hands
to-night."
Thus, in wonder and amazement, they spent the whole day. Nor was
Chandralekha idle at her own house. She was sure she would again see
the robbers in her room that night, and, in order to be prepared for
the occasion, she made a small sharp knife out of the robber's rod,
and kept it beneath her pillow, in the place where she was accustomed
to keep her purse containing a few betel leaves, nuts, chunam, &c.,
to chew. The night came on. Early Chandralekha had her supper and
retired to bed. Sleep she could not, but she cunningly kept eyelids
closed and pretended to sleep. Even before it was midnight the eight
thieves broke into her room, saying to themselves:--
"This clever lady-thief sleeps soundly. We will do her no mischief
here. Let us range ourselves two and two at each leg of her cot,
and carry her away unconscious to the woods. There we can kill her."
Thus thinking, the eight thieves ranged themselves at the side
of the four legs of the cot, and, without the slightest shaking,
removed the cot with the sleeper on it outside the town. Their
joy in thus having brought away their enemy was very great, and,
not fearing for the safe custody of their prisoner, they marched to
their cave. Meanwhile Chandralekha was not idle on the cot. The way
to the jungle was through a long and fine avenue of mango trees. It
was the mango season, and all the branches were hanging with bunches
of ripe and unripe fruit. To make up for her weight on the cot she
kept plucking mango bunches and heaping them on it, and as soon as
a quantity which she thought would make up her weight was upon her
cot, she without the slightest noise took hold of a branch and swung
herself off it. The thieves walked on as before, the weight on their
heads not apparently diminishing, leaving our heroine safely seated
on a mango branch to pass the few remaining ghatikas of that anxious
night there. The thieves reached their cave just at daybreak, and
when they placed their burden down their eyes met only bunches of
ripe mangoes, and not the lady they looked for.
"Is she a woman of flesh and blood, or is she a devil?" asked the
chief of the next in rank.
"My lord! she is a woman fast enough, and if we search in the wood
we shall find her," replied he, and at once all the eight robbers
after a light breakfast began to search for her.
Meanwhile the morning dawned upon Chandralekha and let her see that
she was in the midst of a thick jungle. She feared to escape in
the daytime as the way was long, and she was sure that the robbers
would soon be after her. So she resolved to conceal herself in some
deep ambush and wait for the night. Before she left the cot for the
mango branch she had secured in her hip the small knife she had made
for herself out of the robbers' rod and the purse containing the
materials for chewing betel; and near the tree into which she had
climbed she saw a deep hollow surrounded by impenetrable reeds on all
sides. So she slowly let herself down from the tree into this hollow,
and anxiously waited there for the night.
All this time the eight thieves were searching for her in different
places, and one of them came to the spot where Chandralekha had sat
in the tree, and the dense bushes near made him suspect that she
was hidden there; so he proceeded to examine the place by climbing
up the tree. When Chandralekha saw the thief on the tree she gave
up all hopes of life. But suddenly a bright thought came into her
mind, just as the man up above saw her. Putting on a most cheerful
countenance she slowly spoke to him.
"My dear husband, for I must term you so from this moment, since God
has elevated you now to that position, do not raise an alarm. Come
down here gently, that we may be happy in each other's company. You
are my husband and I am your wife from this moment."
So spoke the clever Chandralekha, and the head of the thief began
to turn with joy when he heard so sweet a speech, and forgetting all
her previous conduct to himself and his brethren, he leapt into the
hollow. She welcomed him with a smiling face, in which the eager heart
of the robber read sincere affection, and gave him some betel-nut
to chew and chewed some herself merrily. Now redness of the tongue
after chewing betel is always an indication of the mutual affection
of a husband and wife among the illiterate of Hindu society. So while
the betel-leaf was being chewed she put out her tongue to show the
thief how red it was, letting him see thereby how deeply she loved
him: and he, to show in return how deeply he loved her, put out his
tongue too. And she, as if examining it closely, clutched it in her
left hand, while with her right hand in the twinkling of an eye cut
off the tongue and nose of the robber, and taking advantage of the
confusion that came over him she cut his throat and left him dead.
By this time evening was fast approaching, and the other seven robbers,
after fruitless search, returned to their cave, feeling sure that
the eighth man must have discovered Chandralekha. They waited and
waited the whole night, but no one returned, for how could a man who
had been killed come back?
Our heroine, meanwhile, as soon as evening set in started homewards,
being emboldened by the occasion and the circumstances in which she
was placed. She reached home safely at midnight and related all her
adventures to her mother. Overcome by exhaustion she slept the rest of
the night, and as soon as morning dawned began to strengthen the walls
of her bedroom by iron plates. To her most useful pocket-knife she now
added a bagful of powdered chillies, and went to bed, not to sleep,
but to watch for the robbers. Just as she expected, a small hole was
bored in the east wall of her bedroom, and one of the seven robbers
thrust in his head. As soon as she saw the hole our heroine stood
by the side of it with the powder and knife, and with the latter she
cut off the nose of the man who peeped in and thrust the powder into
the wound. Unable to bear the burning pain he dragged himself back,
uttering "na, na, na, na," having now no nose to pronounce properly
with. A second thief, abusing the former for having lost his nose
so carelessly, went in, and the bold lady inside dealt in the same
way with his nose, and he too, dragged himself back in the same way,
calling out "na, na, na, na." A third thief abused the second in his
turn, and going in lost his nose also. Thus all the seven thieves
lost their noses, and, fearing to be discovered if they remained,
ran off to the forest, where they had to take a few days' rest from
their plundering habits to cure their mutilated noses.
Chandralekha had thus three or four times disappointed the thieves. The
more she disappointed them the more she feared for her own safety,
especially as she had now inflicted a life-long shame on them.
"The thieves will surely come as soon as their noses are cured and
kill me in some way or other. I am, after all, only a girl," she
thought to herself. So she went at once to the palace and reported
all her adventures with the eight robbers to the prince, who had been
her former class-mate. The prince was astonished at the bravery of
Chandralekha, and promised the next time the robbers came to lend
her his assistance. So every night a spy from the palace slept in
Chandralekha's house to carry the news of the arrival of the robbers to
the prince, should they ever go there. But the robbers were terribly
afraid of approaching Chandralekha's house, after they came to know
that she had a knife made out of the boring-rod. But they devised
among themselves a plan of inviting Chandralekha to the forest under
the pretence of holding a nautch, and sent to her house a servant for
that purpose. The servant came, and, entering Chandralekha's house,
spoke thus to her:--
"My dear young lady, whoever you may be, you have now a chance of
enriching yourself. I see plainly from the situation of your house
that you are one of the dancing-girls' caste. My masters in the forest
have made a plan to give a nautch to their relatives on the occasion
of a wedding which is to take place there the day after to-morrow. If
you come there they will reward you with a karor of mohars for every
nimisha (minute) of your performance."
Thus spoke the servant, and Chandralekha, knowing that the mission
was from the thieves, agreed to perform the nautch, and, asking the
man to come and take her and her party the next morning to the forest,
sent him away.
In order to lose no time she went at once to the prince and told him
all about the nautch. Said she:--
"I know very well that this is a scheme of the thieves to kill me,
but before they can do that we must try to kill them. A way suggests
itself to me in this wise. To make up a nautch party more than seven
persons are required. One must play the drum; a second must sound the
cymbals; a third must blow upon the nagasvara pipe, etc., etc. So I
request you to give me seven of your strongest men to accompany me
disguised as men of my party, and some of your troops must secretly
lie in ambush in readiness to take the robbers prisoners when a signal
is given to them."
Thus Chandralekha spoke, and all her advice the prince received with
great admiration. He himself offered to follow her as her drummer for
the nautch, and he chose six of the ablest commanders from his army,
and asked them to disguise themselves as fiddlers, pipers, etc., and
he directed an army of a thousand men to follow their footsteps at a
distance of two ghatikas' march, and to lie in ambush near the place
where they were going to perform the nautch, ready for a call. Thus
everything was arranged and all were ready by the morning to start
from Chandralekha's house.
Before the third ghatika of the morning was over, the robbers' servant
came to conduct Chandralekha with her party to the forest, where the
prince and six of his strongest men disguised as her followers, were
waiting for him. Chandralekha with all her followers accompanied him,
but as soon as she left her house a spy ran off to the army, which,
as ordered by the prince, began to follow her party at a distance of
two ghatikas.
After travelling a long way Chandralekha and her party reached the
nautch pavilion at about five ghatikas before sunset. All their
hosts were without their noses, and some still had their noses
bandaged up. When they saw that Chandralekha's followers had a fine
and prepossessing appearance, even the hard hearts of the robbers
softened a little.
"Let us have a look at her performance. She is now entirely in
our possession. Instead of murdering her now, we will witness her
performance for a ghatika," said the robbers to each other; and all
with one voice said "agreed," and at once the order for the performance
was given.
Chandralekha, who was clever in every department of knowledge, began
her performance, and, by the most exquisite movement of her limbs,
held the audience spell-bound, when suddenly ta tai, tom clashed the
cymbals. This was the signal for the destruction of the robbers, as
well as the sign of the close of a part of the nautch. In the twinkling
of an eye the seven disguised followers of the dancing-girl had thrown
down the thieves and were upon them. Before the servants of the robbers
could come to the help of their masters the footsteps of an army near
were heard, and in no time the prince's one thousand men were on the
spot and took all the robbers and their followers prisoners.
So great had been the ravages of these robbers in and round Kaivalyam
that, without any mercy being shown to them, they and their followers
were all ordered to be beheaded, and the prince was so much won over
by the excellent qualities of Chandralekha that, notwithstanding her
birth as a dancing-girl, he regarded her as a gem of womankind and
married her.
"Buy a girl in a bazar" (kanniyai kadaiyir kol) is a proverb. What
matter where a girl is born provided she is virtuous! And Chandralekha,
by her excellent virtue, won a prince for her lord. And when that
lord came to know of the real nature of his teacher, who was also
the teacher of Chandralekha, he banished him from his kingdom, as a
merciful punishment, in consideration of his previous services.