In presenting these little stories to the public, it may perhaps be of
interest if I describe how I came by them.
During two years spent in Tibet, at Gyantse, Lhasa, and elsewhere, I
have made many friends amongst all classes of Tibetans—high and low,
rich and poor—and have conversed with all sorts of persons upon all
sorts of topics. In the course of my wanderings I learned that there
exists amongst this fascinating and little-known people a wealth of
folk-lore, hitherto inaccessible to the outside world, and I made
efforts to collect as many of their stories as I could.
For certain special reasons this quest proved more difficult than I had
anticipated. In the first place, I found that many of the best known
stories had been imported bodily from India [1] or China, and possess
but little of that local colouring which is one of the chief charms of
folk-lore. Secondly, some of the very best and most characteristic
stories are unfit for publication in such a book as this. [2] And,
thirdly, human nature being much the same all the world over, it was
not always possible to find a suitable raconteur in a suitable mood for
story-telling. A story told by a nervous or reluctant narrator loses
half its charm. A good story must be natural, and necessitates sympathy
on the part both of teller and of hearer. Armed diplomatic missions and
an official position, apart from all questions of difference of
language and nationality, do not tend to elicit the ideal sentiments
necessary for the establishment of complete mutual confidence.
But patience, and the growth of kindly feelings on both sides, helped
me to some extent to overcome the shyness and reluctance of the simple
folk who have supplied me with my material; and, as time went on, I was
able to coax a story from many unlikely sources. Village headmen,
monks, servants, local government officials, peasants, traders—these
and many others have contributed to my store. Shyly and haltingly at
starting, with many bashful apologies and disclaimers, the story-teller
will begin his tale. But a Tibetan audience is one of the best
imaginable, and their open sympathy and appreciation soon melt the
frosts of reserve, and the words flow freely. Presently all sense of
constraint is lost, and I have known a story interrupted for ten
minutes at a time by the uncontrollable merriment aroused by some comic
incident.
Some of the stories, then, I have been obliged, reluctantly enough, to
discard altogether for the present; others require further revision or
elucidation. But the rest of my little store I give here, and with this
one apology: that I have made no attempt to ornament or improve upon
them. I have written them down just as I heard them, and have
translated them, as accurately as I could, from the Tibetan idiom into
ours. As to their origin or scientific bearing I say nothing, and put
forward no theories. I leave the Tales to speak for themselves; but
would invite, and shall cordially welcome, the criticisms and surmises
of all students of folk-lore who are in a position to give an expert
opinion upon such points, and to shed a light upon obscure corners into
which I have been unable to penetrate.
I have added to the stories a few verses taken at random from popular
Tibetan love-songs, as a sample of the wealth of imagery and genuine
poetic sentiment which is to be found amongst the inhabitants of this
strange country. Owing to the extremely idiomatic form and severe
compression of Tibetan metrical compositions, the translation of these
songs into anything even distantly resembling poetry, without
altogether destroying the characteristics of the original, presents
peculiar difficulties; and I must crave indulgence for their crudeness
and lack of artistic finish.
The pictures are the maiden effort at book illustration of a Tibetan
artist, resident at Gyantse, and are, I fear, somewhat weak in details,
as owing to my absence from Gyantse during the time they were in
progress I was unable personally to superintend their execution. For
the excellent photograph which appears as the frontispiece I am
indebted to my friend and companion at Gyantse, Capt. R. Steen, of the
Indian Medical Service.
In conclusion, I must express my grateful acknowledgments to Mr.
Perceval Landon, to whose suggestion the collection and publication of
these Tales, as well as their illustration by a native artist, is in a
great measure due; and I must thank him, moreover, for many valuable
hints and much kindly sympathy and assistance.
W. F. O’Connor, Capt.