VII.

_THE WANDERINGS OF VICRAM MAHARAJAH._

There was once upon a time a Rajah named Vicram Maharajah,[55] who had

a Wuzeer named Butti.[56] Both the Rajah and his minister were left

orphans when very young, and ever since their parents' death they had

lived together: they were educated together, and they loved each other

tenderly--like brothers.

[55] The great King Vicram.

[56] Light.

Both were good and kind--no poor man coming to the Rajah was ever

known to have been sent away disappointed, for it was his delight to

give food and clothes to those in need. But whilst the Wuzeer had much

judgment and discretion, as well as a brilliant fancy, the Rajah was

too apt to allow his imagination to run away with his reason.

Under their united rule, however, the kingdom prospered greatly. The

Rajah was the spur of every noble work, and the Wuzeer the curb to

every rash or impracticable project.

In a country some way from Rajah Vicram's there lived a little Queen,

called Anar Ranee (the Pomegranate Queen). Her father and mother

reigned over the Pomegranate country, and for her they had made a

beautiful garden. In the middle of the garden was a lovely pomegranate

tree, bearing three large pomegranates. They opened in the centre,

and in each was a little bed. In one of them Anar Ranee used to sleep,

and in the pomegranates on either side slept two of her maids.

Every morning early the pomegranate tree would gently bend its

branches to the ground, and the fruit would open, and Anar Ranee and

her attendants creep out to play under the shadow of the cool tree

until the evening; and each evening the tree again bent down to enable

them to get into their tiny, snug bed-rooms.

Many princes wished to marry Anar Ranee, for she was said to be the

fairest lady upon earth: her hair was black as a raven's wing, her

eyes like the eyes of a gazelle, her teeth two rows of exquisite

pearls, and her cheeks the color of the rosy pomegranate. But her

father and mother had caused her garden to be hedged around with seven

hedges made of bayonets, so that none could go in or out; and they had

published a decree that none should marry her but he who could enter

the garden and gather the three pomegranates, in which she and her two

maids slept. To do this, kings, princes and nobles innumerable had

striven, but striven in vain.

Some never got past the first sharp hedge of bayonets; others, more

fortunate, surmounted the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, or

even the sixth; but there perished miserably, being unable to climb

the seventh. None had ever succeeded in entering the garden.

Before Vicram Maharajah's father and mother died, they had built, some

way from their palace, a very beautiful temple. It was of marble, and

in the centre stood an idol made of pure gold. But in course of time

the jungle had grown up round it, and thick straggling plants of

prickly pear had covered it, so that it was difficult even to find out

whereabouts it was.

Then, one day, the Wuzeer Butti said to Vicram Maharajah, "The temple

your father and mother built at so much pains and cost is almost lost

in the jungle, and will probably ere long be in ruins. It would be a

pious work to find it out and restore it." Vicram Maharajah agreed,

and immediately sent for many workmen, and caused the jungle to be cut

down and the temple restored. All were much astonished to find what a

beautiful place it was! The floor was white marble, the walls

exquisitely carved in bas-reliefs and gorgeously colored, while all

over the ceiling was painted Vicram Maharajah's father's name, and in

the centre was a golden image of Gunputti, to whom it was dedicated.

The Rajah Vicram was so pleased with the beauty of the place that on

that account, as well as because of its sanctity, he and Butti used to

go and sleep there every night.

One night Vicram had a wonderful dream. He dreamed his father appeared

to him and said, "Arise, Vicram, go to the tower for lights[57] which

is in front of this temple."

[57] See Notes at the end.

(For there was in front of the temple a beautiful tower or pyramid for

lights, and all the way up it were projections on which to place

candles on days dedicated to the idol; so that when the whole was

lighted it looked like a gigantic candlestick, and to guard it there

were around it seven hedges made of bayonets.)

"Arise, Vicram, therefore," said the vision; "go to the tower for

lights; below it is a vast amount of treasure, but you can only get it

in one way without incurring the anger of Gunputti. You must first do

in his honor an act of very great devotion, which if he graciously

approve, and consent to preserve your life therein, you may with

safety remove the treasure."

"And what is this act of devotion?" asked Vicram Maharajah.

"It is this," (he thought his father answered): "You must fasten a

rope to the top of the tower, and to the other end of the rope attach

a basket, into which you must get head downward, then twist the rope

by which the basket is hung three times, and as it is untwisting, cut

it, when you will fall head downward to the earth.

"If you fall on either of the hedges of bayonets, you will be

instantly killed; but Gunputti is merciful--do not fear that he will

allow you to be slain. If you escape unhurt, you will know that he has

accepted your pious act, and may without danger take the

treasure."[58]

[58] See Notes at the end.

The vision faded; Vicram saw no more, and shortly afterward he awoke.

Then, turning to the Wuzeer, he said, "Butti, I had a strange dream. I

dreamed my father counseled me to do an act of great devotion; nothing

less than fastening a basket by a rope to the top of the tower for

lights, and getting into it head downward, then cutting the rope and

allowing myself to fall; by which having propitiated the divinity, he

promised me a vast treasure, to be found by digging under the tower!

What do you think I had better do?"

"My advice," answered the Wuzeer, "is, if you care to seek the

treasure, to do entirely as your father commanded, trusting in the

mercy of Gunputti."

So the Rajah caused a basket to be fastened by a rope to the top of

the tower, and got into it head downward; then he called out to Butti,

"How can I cut the rope?" "Nothing is easier," answered he; "take this

sword in your hand. I will twist the rope three times, and as it

untwists for the first time let the sword fall upon it." Vicram

Maharajah took the sword, and Butti twisted the rope, and as it first

began to untwist, the Rajah cut it, and the basket immediately fell.

It would have certainly gone down among the bayonets, and he been

instantly killed, had not Gunputti, seeing the danger of his devotee,

rushed out of the temple at that moment in the form of an old woman,

who, catching the basket in her arms before it touched the bayonets,

brought it gently and safely to the ground; having done which she

instantly returned into the temple. None of the spectators knew she

was Gunputti himself in disguise; they only thought "What a clever old

woman!"

Vicram Maharajah then caused excavations to be made below the tower,

under which he found an immense amount of treasure. There were

mountains of gold, there were diamonds, and rubies, and sapphires, and

emeralds, and turquoises, and pearls; but he took none of them,

causing all to be sold and the money given to the poor, so little did

he care for the riches for which some men sell their bodies and souls.

Another day, the Rajah, when in the temple, dreamed again. Again his

father appeared to him, and this time he said, "Vicram, come daily to

this temple and Gunputti will teach you wisdom, and you shall get

understanding. You may get learning in the world, but wisdom is the

fruit of much learning and much experience, and much love to God and

man; wherefore, come, acquire wisdom, for learning perishes, but

wisdom never dies." When the Rajah awoke, he told his dream to the

Wuzeer, and Butti recommended him to obey his father's counsel, which

he accordingly did.

Daily he resorted to the temple and was instructed by Gunputti; and

when he had learnt much, one day Gunputti said to him, "I have given

you as much wisdom as is in keeping with man's finite comprehension;

now, as a parting gift, ask of me what you will and it shall be

yours--or riches, or power, or beauty, or long life, or health, or

happiness--choose what you will have?" The Rajah was very much

puzzled, and he begged leave to be allowed a day to think over the

matter, and decide what he would choose, to which Gunputti assented.

Now it happened that near the palace there lived the son of a

Carpenter, who was very cunning, and when he heard that the Rajah went

to the temple to learn wisdom, he also determined to go and see if he

could not learn it also; and each day, when Gunputti gave Vicram

Maharajah instruction, the Carpenter's son would hide close behind the

temple, and overhear all their conversation; so that he also became

very wise. No sooner, therefore, did he hear Gunputti's offer to

Vicram than he determined to return again when the Rajah did, and find

out in what way he was to procure the promised gift, whatever it was.

The Rajah consulted Butti as to what he should ask for, saying, "I

have riches more than enough; I have also sufficient power, and for

the rest I had sooner take my chance with other men, which makes me

much at a loss to know what to choose."

The Wuzeer answered, "Is there any supernatural power you at all

desire to possess? If so, ask for that." "Yes," replied the Rajah, "it

has always been a great desire of mine to have power to leave my own

body when I will, and translate my soul and sense into some other

body, either of man or animal. I would rather be able to do that than

anything else." "Then," said the Wuzeer, "ask Gunputti to give you the

power."

Next morning the Rajah, having bathed and prayed, went in great state

to the temple to have his final interview with the idol. And the

Carpenter's son went too, in order to overhear it.

Then Gunputti said to the Rajah, "Vicram, what gift do you choose?"

"Oh, divine Power," answered the Rajah, "you have already given me a

sufficiency of wealth and power, in making me Rajah; neither care I

for more of beauty than I now possess; and of long life, health and

happiness I had rather take my share with other men. But there is a

power which I would rather own than all that you have offered."

"Name it, O good son of a good father," said Gunputti.

"Most Wise," replied Vicram, "give me the power to leave my own body

when I will, and translate my soul, and sense, and thinking powers

into any other body that I may choose, either of man, or bird, or

beast--whether for a day, or a year, or for twelve years, or as long

as I like; grant also, that however long the term of my absence, my

body may not decay, but that, when I please to return to it again, I

may find it still as when I left it."

"Vicram," answered Gunputti, "your prayer is heard," and he

instructed Vicram Maharajah by what means he should translate his soul

into another body, and also gave him something which, being placed

within his own body when he left it, would preserve it from decay

until his return.[59]

[59] See Notes at the end.

The Carpenter's son, who had been all this time listening outside the

temple, heard and learnt the spell whereby Gunputti gave Vicram

Maharajah power to enter into any other body; but he could not see nor

find out what was given to the Rajah to place within his own body when

he left it, to preserve it; so that he was only master of half the

secret.

Vicram Maharajah returned home, and told the Wuzeer that he was

possessed of the much-desired secret. "Then," said Butti, "the best

use you can put it to is to fly to the Pomegranate country, and bring

Anar Ranee here."

"How can that be done?" asked the Rajah. "Thus," replied Butti;

"transport yourself into the body of a parrot, in which shape you will

be able to fly over the seven hedges of bayonets that surround her

garden. Go to the tree in the centre of it, bite off the stalks of the

pomegranates and bring them home in your beak."

"Very well," said the Rajah, and he picked up a parrot which lay dead

on the ground, and placing within his own body the beauty-preserving

charm, transported his soul into the parrot, and flew off.

On, on, on he went, over the hills and far away, until he came to the

garden. Then he flew over the seven hedges of bayonets, and with his

beak broke off the three pomegranates (in which were Anar Ranee and

her two ladies), and holding them by the stalks brought them safely

home. He then immediately left the parrot's body and re-entered his

own body.

When Butti saw how well he had accomplished the feat, he said, "Thank

heaven! there's some good done already." All who saw Anar Ranee were

astonished at her beauty, for she was fair as a lotus flower, and the

color on her cheeks was like the deep rich color of a pomegranate, and

all thought the Rajah very wise to have chosen such a wife.

They had a magnificent wedding, and were for a short time as happy as

the day is long.

But within a little while Vicram Maharajah said to Butti, "I have

again a great desire to see the world." "What!" said Butti, "so soon

again to leave your home! So soon to care to go away from your young

wife!"

"I love her and my people dearly," answered the Rajah; "but I cannot

but feel that I have this supernatural power of taking any form I

please, and longing to use it." "Where and how will you go?" asked the

Wuzeer. "Let it be the day after to-morrow," answered Vicram

Maharajah. "I shall again take the form of a parrot, and see as much

of the world as possible."

So it was settled that the Rajah should go. He left his kingdom in the

Wuzeer's sole charge, and also his wife, saying to her, "I don't know

for how long I may be away; perhaps a day, perhaps a year, perhaps

more. But if, while I am gone, you should be in any difficulty, apply

to the Wuzeer. He has ever been like an elder brother or a father to

me; do you therefore also regard him as a father. I have charged him

to take care of you as he would of his own child."

Having said these words, the Rajah caused a beautiful parrot to be

shot (it was a very handsome bird, with a tuft of bright feathers on

its head and a ring about its neck). He then cut a small incision in

his arm and rubbed into it some of the magic preservative given him by

Gunputti to keep his body from decaying, and transporting his soul

into the parrot's body, he flew away.

No sooner did the Carpenter's son hear that the Rajah was as dead,

than, knowing the power of which Vicram Maharajah and he were alike

possessed, he felt certain that the former had made use of it, and

determined himself likewise to turn it to account. Therefore, directly

the Rajah entered the parrot's body, the Carpenter's son entered the

Rajah's body, and the world at large imagined that the Rajah had only

swooned and recovered. But the Wuzeer was wiser than they, and

immediately thought to himself, "Some one beside Vicram Maharajah must

have become acquainted with this spell, and be now making use of it,

thinking it would be very amusing to play the part of Rajah for a

while; but I'll soon discover if this be the case or no."

So he called Anar Ranee and said to her, "You are as well assured as I

am that your husband left us but now, in the form of a parrot; but

scarcely had he gone before his deserted body arose, and he now

appears walking about, and talking, and as much alive as ever;

nevertheless, my opinion is, that the spirit animating the body is not

the spirit of the Rajah, but that some one else is possessed of the

power given to him by Gunputti, and has taken advantage of it to

personate him. But this it would be better to put to the proof. Do,

therefore, as I tell you, that you may be assured of the truth of my

words. Make to-day for your husband's dinner some very coarse and

common currie, and give it to him. If he complains that it is not as

good as usual, I am making a mistake; but if, on the contrary, he says

nothing about it, you will know that my words are true, and that he is

not Vicram Maharajah."

Anar Ranee did as the Wuzeer advised, and afterward came to him and

said, "Father" (for so she always called him), "I have been much

astonished at the result of the trial. I made the currie very

carelessly, and it was as coarse and common as possible; but the Rajah

did not even complain. I feel convinced it is as you say; but what can

we do?"

"We will not," answered the Wuzeer, "cast him into prison, since he

inhabits your husband's body; but neither you, nor any of the Rajah's

relations, must have any friendship with, or so much as speak to him;

and if he speak to any of you, let whoever it be, immediately begin to

quarrel with him, whereby he will find the life of a rajah not so

agreeable as he anticipated, and may be induced the sooner to return

to his proper form."

Anar Ranee instructed all her husband's relations and friends as Butti

had advised, and the Carpenter's son began to think the life of a

rajah not at all as pleasant as he had fancied, and would, if he

could, have gladly returned to his own body again; but, having no

power to preserve it, his spirit had no sooner left it than it began

to decay, and at the end of three days it was quite destroyed; so that

the unhappy man had no alternative but to remain where he was.

Meantime, the real Vicram Maharajah had flown, in the form of a

parrot, very far, far away, until he reached a large banyan tree,

where there were a thousand other pretty pollies, whom he joined,

making their number a thousand and one. Every day the parrots flew

away to get food, and every night they returned to roost in the great

banyan tree.

Now it chanced that a hunter had often gone through that part of the

jungle, and noticed the banyan tree and the parrots, and he said to

himself, "If I could only catch the thousand and one parrots that

nightly roost in that tree, I should not be so often hungry as I am

now, for they would make plenty of very nice currie." But he could not

do it, though he often tried; for the trunks of the tree were tall and

straight, and very slippery, so that he no sooner climbed up a little

way than he slid down again: however, he did not cease to look and

long.

One day, a heavy shower of rain drove all the parrots back earlier

than usual to their tree, and when they got there they found a

thousand crows who had come on their homeward flight to shelter

themselves there till the storm was over.

Then Vicram Maharajah Parrot said to the other parrots, "Do you not

see these crows have all sorts of seeds and fruits in their beaks,

which they are carrying home to their little ones? Let us quickly

drive them away, lest some of these fall down under our tree, which,

being sown there, will spring up strong plants and twine round the

trunks, and enable our enemy the hunter to climb up with ease and kill

us all."

But the other parrots answered, "That is a very far-fetched idea! Do

not let us hunt the poor birds away from shelter in this pouring

rain, they will get so wet." So the crows were not molested. It turned

out, however, just as Vicram Maharajah had foretold; for some of the

fruits and seeds they were taking home to their young ones fell under

the tree, and the seeds took root and sprang up, strong creeping

plants, which twined all round the straight trunks of the banyan tree,

and made it very easy to climb.

Next time the hunter came by he noticed this, and saying, "Ah, my fine

friends, I've got you at last," he, by the help of the creepers,

climbed the tree, and set one thousand and one snares of fine thread

among the branches; having done which he went away.

That night, when the parrots flew down on the branches as usual, they

found themselves all caught fast prisoners by the feet.

"Crick! crick! crick!" cried they, "crick! crick! crick! Oh dear! oh

dear! what shall we do? what can we do? Oh, Vicram Maharajah, you were

right and we were wrong. Oh dear! oh dear! crick! crick! crick!"

Then Vicram said, "Did I not tell you how it would be? But do as I bid

you, and we may yet be saved. So soon as the hunter comes to take us

away, let every one hang his head down on one side, as if he were

dead; then, thinking us dead, he will not trouble himself to wring our

necks, or stick the heads of those he wishes to keep alive through his

belt, as he otherwise would; but will merely release us, and throw us

on the ground. Let each one when there, remain perfectly still, till

the whole thousand and one are set free, and the hunter begins to

descend the tree; then we will all fly up over his head and far out of

sight."

The parrots agreed to do as Vicram Maharajah Parrot proposed, and

when the hunter came next morning to take them away, every one had his

eyes shut and his head hanging down on one side, as if he were dead.

Then the hunter said, "All dead, indeed! Then I shall have plenty of

nice currie." And so saying, he cut the noose that held the first, and

threw him down. The parrot fell like a stone to the ground, so did the

second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, the sixth, the seventh, the

eighth, the ninth, the tenth, and so on--up to the thousandth parrot.

Now the thousandth and first chanced to be none other than Vicram; all

were released but he. But, just as the hunter was going to cut the

noose round his feet, he let his knife fall, and had to go down and

pick it up again. When the thousand parrots who were on the ground,

heard him coming down, they thought, "The thousand and one are all

released, and here comes the hunter; it is time for us to be off." And

with one accord they flew up into the air and far out of sight,

leaving poor Vicram Maharajah still a prisoner.

The hunter, seeing what had happened, was very angry, and seizing

Vicram, said to him, "You wretched bird! it's you that have worked all

this mischief. I know it must be, for you are a stranger here, and

different to the other parrots. I'll strangle you, at all events--that

I will." But to his surprise, the parrot answered him, "Do not kill

me. What good will that do you? Rather sell me in the next town. I am

very handsome. You will get a thousand gold mohurs[60] for me."

[60] About $7,500.

"A thousand gold mohurs!" answered the hunter, much astonished. "You

silly bird, who'd be so foolish as to give a thousand gold mohurs for

a parrot?" "Never mind," said Vicram, "only take me and try."

So the hunter took him into the town, crying "Who'll buy? who'll buy?

Come buy this pretty polly that can talk so nicely. See how handsome

he is--see what a great red ring he has round his neck. Who'll buy?

who'll buy?"

Then several people asked how much he would take for the parrot; but

when he said a thousand gold mohurs, they all laughed and went away,

saying "None but a fool would give so much for a bird."

At last the hunter got angry, and he said to Vicram, "I told you how

it would be. I shall never be able to sell you." But he answered, "Oh

yes, you will. See here comes a merchant down this way; I dare say he

will buy me." So the hunter went to the merchant and said to him,

"Pray, sir, buy my pretty parrot." "How much do you want for him?"

asked the merchant--"two rupees?"[61] "No, sir," answered the hunter;

"I cannot part with him for less than a thousand gold mohurs." "A

thousand gold mohurs!" cried the merchant, "a thousand gold mohurs! I

never heard of such a thing in my life! A thousand gold mohurs for one

little wee polly! Why, with that sum you might buy a house, or

gardens, or horses, or ten thousand yards of the best cloth. Who's

going to give you such a sum for a parrot? Not I, indeed. I'll give

you two rupees and no more." But Vicram called out, "Merchant,

merchant, do not fear to buy me. I am Vicram Maharajah Parrot. Pay

what the hunter asks, and I will repay it to you--buy me only, and I

will keep your shop."

[61] About $1.

"Polly," answered the merchant, "what nonsense you talk!" But he took

a fancy to the bird, and paid the hunter a thousand gold mohurs, and

taking Vicram Maharajah home, hung him up in his shop.

Then the Parrot took on him the duties of shopman, and talked so much

and so wisely that every one in the town soon heard of the merchant's

wonderful bird. Nobody cared to go to any other shop--all came to his

shop, only to hear the Parrot talk; and he sold them what they wanted,

and they did not care how much he charged for what he sold, but gave

him whatever he asked; insomuch, that in one week the merchant had

made a thousand gold mohurs over and above his usual weekly profits;

and there Vicram Maharajah Parrot lived for a long time, made much of

by everybody, and very happy.

It happened in the town where the merchant lived there was a very

accomplished Nautch girl,[62] named Champa Ranee.[63] She danced so

beautifully that the people of the town used always to send for her to

dance on the occasion of any great festival.

[62] Dancing girl.

[63] The Champa Queen. "The Champa" (_Michelia champaca_) is a

beautiful, sweet-scented yellow flower.

There also lived in the town a poor wood-cutter, who earned his living

by going out far into the jungle to cut wood, and bringing it in every

day, into the bazaar to sell.

One day he went out as usual into the jungle to cut wood, and being

tired, he fell asleep under a tree and began to dream; and he dreamed

that he was a very rich man, and that he married the beautiful Nautch

girl, and that he took her home to his house, and gave his wife, as a

wedding present, a thousand gold mohurs!

When he went into the bazaar that evening as usual to sell wood, he

began telling his dream to his friends, saying, "While I was in the

jungle I had such an absurd dream; I dreamed that I was a rich man,

and that I married the Champa Ranee, and gave her as a wedding present

a thousand gold mohurs!" "What a funny dream!" they cried, and thought

no more of it.

But it happened that the house under which he was standing whilst

talking to his friends was Champa Ranee's house, and Champa Ranee

herself was near the window, and heard what he said, and thought to

herself, "For all that man looks so poor, he has then a thousand gold

mohurs, or he would not have dreamed of giving them to his wife; if

that is all, I'll go to law about it, and see if I can't get the

money."

So she sent out her servants and ordered them to catch the poor

wood-cutter; and when they caught him, she began crying out, "Oh

husband! husband! here have I been waiting ever so long, wondering

what has become of you; where have you been all this time?" He

answered, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean. You're a great lady

and I'm a poor wood-cutter; you must mistake me for somebody else."

But she answered, "Oh no! don't you remember we were married on such

and such a day! Have you forgotten what a grand wedding it was, and

you took me home to your palace, and promised to give me as a wedding

present a thousand gold mohurs? But you quite forgot to give me the

money, and you went away, and I returned to my father's house till I

could learn tidings of you; how can you be so cruel?"

The poor wood-cutter thought he must be dreaming, but all Champa

Ranee's friends and relations declared that what she said was true.

Then, after much quarreling, they said they would go to law about it;

but the judge could not settle the matter, and referred it to the

Rajah himself. The Rajah was no less puzzled than the judge. The

wood-cutter protested that he was only a poor wood-cutter; but Champa

Ranee and her friends asserted that he was, on the contrary, a rich

man, her husband, and had had much money, which he must have

squandered. She offered, however, to give up all claim to that, if he

would only give her a thousand gold mohurs, which he had promised; and

so suggested a compromise. The wood-cutter replied that he would

gladly give the gold mohurs if he had them; but that (as he brought

witnesses to prove) he was really and truly what he professed to

be--only a poor wood-cutter, who earned two annas[64] a day cutting

wood, and had neither palace nor riches nor wife in the world! The

whole city was interested in this curious case, and all wondered how

it would end; some being sure one side was right, and some equally

certain of the other.

[64] Six cents.

The Rajah could make nothing of the matter, and at last he said: "I

hear there is a merchant in this town who has a very wise parrot,

wiser than most men are; let him be sent for to decide this business,

for it is beyond me; we will abide by his decision."

So Vicram Maharajah Parrot was sent for, and placed in the court of

justice, to hear and judge the case.

First he said to the wood-cutter, "Tell me your version of the story."

And the wood-cutter answered, "Polly, Sahib, what I tell is true. I am

a poor man. I live in the jungle, and earn my living by cutting wood

and selling it in the bazaar. I never get more than two annas a day.

One day I fell asleep and dreamed a silly dream--how I had become rich

and married the Champa Ranee, and had given her as a wedding present a

thousand gold mohurs; but it is no more true that I owed her a

thousand gold mohurs, or have them to pay, than that I married her."

"That is enough," said Vicram Maharajah. "Now, dancing girl, tell us

your story." And Champa Ranee gave her version of the matter. Then the

Parrot said to her, "Tell me now where was the house of this husband

of yours, to which he took you?" "Oh!" she answered; "very far away, I

don't know how far, in the jungles." "How long ago was it?" asked he.

"At such and such a time," she replied. Then he called credible and

trustworthy witnesses, who proved that Champa Ranee had never left the

city at the time she mentioned. After hearing whom, the Parrot said to

her, "Is it possible that you can have the folly to think any one

would believe that you would leave your rich and costly home to go a

long journey into the jungle? It is now satisfactorily proved that you

did not do it; you had better give up all claim to the thousand gold

mohurs."

But this the Nautch girl would not do. The Parrot then called for a

money-lender, and begged of him the loan of a thousand gold mohurs,

which he placed in a great bottle, putting the stopper in, and

sealing it securely down; he then gave it to the Nautch girl, and

said, "Get this money if you can, without breaking the seal or

breaking the bottle." She answered, "It cannot be done." "No more,"

replied Vicram Maharajah, "can what you desire be done. You cannot

force a poor man, who has no money in the world, to pay you a thousand

gold mohurs.

"Let the prisoner go free! Begone, Champa Ranee. Dancing girl! you are

a liar and a thief; go rob the rich if you will, but meddle no more

with the poor."

All applauded Vicram Maharajah Parrot's decision, and said, "Was ever

such a wonderful bird!" But Champa Ranee was extremely angry, and said

to him, "Very well, nasty polly; nasty, stupid polly! be assured

before long I will get you in my power, and when I do, I will bite off

your head!"

"Try your worst, madam," answered Vicram; "but in return, I tell you

this--I will live to make you a beggar. Your house shall be, by your

own order, laid even with the ground, and you for grief and rage shall

kill yourself."

"Agreed," said Champa Ranee; "we will soon see whose words come

true--mine or yours;" and so saying, she returned home.

The merchant took Vicram Maharajah back to his shop, and a week passed

without adventure; a fortnight passed, but still nothing particular

happened. At the end of this time the merchant's eldest son was

married, and in honor of the occasion, the merchant ordered that a

clever dancing-girl should be sent for, to dance before the guests.

Champa Ranee came, and danced so beautifully that every one was

delighted; and the merchant was much pleased, and said to her, "You

have done your work very well, and in payment you may choose what you

like out of my shop or house, and it shall be yours--whether jewels or

rich cloth, or whatever it is."

She replied, "I desire nothing of the kind: of jewels and rich stuffs

I have more than enough, but you shall give me your pretty little

parrot; I like it much, and that is the only payment I will take."

The merchant felt very much vexed, for he had never thought the Nautch

girl would ask for the parrot which he was so fond of, and which had

been so profitable to him; he felt he would rather have parted with

anything he possessed than that; nevertheless, having promised, he was

bound to keep his word, so, with many tears, he went to fetch his

favorite. But Polly cried, "Don't be vexed, master; give me to the

girl; I can take good care of myself."

So Champa Ranee took Vicram Maharajah Parrot home with her; and no

sooner did she get there than she sent for one of her maids, and said,

"Quick, take this parrot and boil him for my supper; but first cut off

his head and bring it to me on a plate, grilled; for I will eat it

before tasting any other dish."

"What nonsensical idea is this of our mistress," said the maid to

another, as she took the parrot into the kitchen; "to think of eating

a grilled parrot's head!" "Never mind," said the other; "you'd better

prepare it as she bids you, or she'll be very cross." Then the maid

who had received the order began plucking the long feathers out of

Vicram Maharajah's wings, he all the time hanging down his head, so

that she thought he was dead. Then, going to fetch some water in

which to boil him, she laid him down close to the place where they

washed the dishes. Now, the kitchen was on the ground floor, and there

was a hole right through the wall, into which the water used in

washing the dishes ran, and through which all the scraps, bones,

peelings and parings were washed away after the daily cooking; and in

this hole Vicram Maharajah hid himself, quick as thought.

"Oh dear! oh dear!" cried the maid when she returned. "What can I do?

what will my mistress say? I only turned my back for one moment, and

the parrot's gone." "Very likely," answered the other maid, "some cat

has taken it away. It could not have been alive, and flown or run

away, or I should have seen it go; but never fear, a chicken will do

very well for her instead."

Then they took a chicken and boiled it, and grilled the head and took

it to their mistress; and she ate it, little bit by little bit, saying

as she did so--

"Ah, pretty polly! so here's the end of you! This is the brain that

thought so cunningly and devised my overthrow! this is the tongue that

spoke against me! this is the throat through which came the

threatening words! Aha! who is right now, I wonder?"

Vicram, in the hole close by, heard her and felt very much alarmed;

for he thought, "If she should catch me after all!" He could not fly

away, for all his wing feathers had been pulled out; so there he had

to stay some time, living on the scraps that were washed into the hole

in the washing of the plates, and perpetually exposed to danger of

being drowned in the streams of water that were poured through it. At

last, however, his new feathers were sufficiently grown to bear him,

and he flew away to a little temple in the jungle some way off, where

he perched behind the idol.

It happened that Champa Ranee used to go to that temple, and he had

not been there long before she came there to worship her idol.

She fell on her knees before the image, and began to pray. Her prayer

was that the god would transport her body and soul to heaven (for she

had a horror of dying), and she cried, "Only grant my prayer--only let

this be so, and I will do anything you wish--anything--anything."