A daughter was once born to a Brahmin and his wife, and from the day
of its birth a dog came daily and laid down in the house.
This made the mother say, in jest, when the child would not cease
crying: "Stop, or I shall give you to the dog."
And the Brahmin added: "I will give her to the dog when she is
grown up."
When the girl grew up, he said to the dog one day, in a fit of temper:
"Here, take my daughter, and do as you wish with her."
The mother now regretted her jest, which had suggested this idea to
her husband, and said: "Here, my child, take this handful of seeds,
and, as you go, strew them along the road, so that I may know where
to find you."
As the girl went along she scattered the seeds, and at last she arrived
at a field in which was a small baoli, or well. Here she sat down,
and told the dog she was thirsty.
"Go and drink from the well," said the dog.
As she approached the dog followed her, and they saw a ladder leading
to the bottom of the well, so that they climbed down and came to a
fine house with lovely gardens and flowers, and servants ready to
receive them. These belonged to the dog, who was in reality a Rajah,
and only assumed the shape of a dog when he left the well.
Some time after this the Brahmin expressed a wish to go and visit
his daughter. So his wife told him to follow the track of any freshly
sprung-up little plants he might see.
He followed out her directions, and found the small trees led to
the well; and as he felt thirsty, he looked in and saw the ladder;
so he descended by it, and found the dog had become a Rajah.
Going round the grounds with his daughter, he noticed a house made
of gold. "What is this?" asked he.
"It is for you, my father."
So he went in and found everything perfect, except that in one of
the walls was a great crack.
"That crack," explained the Rajah, who had joined them, "was caused
when you first drank water at the well; and it will remain there until
you undo the wrong you did your daughter in giving her to a dog,
for you did not then know who he really was. To undo the wrong you
must serve me as my cowherd for twelve years, after which time the
crack in the wall will close up of its own accord."
The Brahmin then went to his wife and told her all that had happened;
and they returned together to the Rajah, whose cows he tended for
twelve years, after which the crack in the golden wall came together
of itself; and thus the wrong was righted.