same for you," she said. With that she took a pretty little pipe out
of the pocket of her skirt. "Do you take this," she said, "and it will
come in handy if you're on your way to the King's palace. If you blow
on the right end of the whistle the things around you will be blown
every which way as if a strong wind had struck them, and if you blow
on the wrong end of it they will be gathered together again. And those
are not the only tricks the pipe has, for if any one takes it from
you, you have only to wish for it, and you can wish it back into your
fingers again."
Boots took the pipe and thanked the old hag kindly, and then he bade
her good-by and went on his way to the King's palace.
When the King heard what Boots had come for, he was no less ready to
take him for a herdsman than he had been to take his brothers. "But,
mind you, you shall have a drubbing that will make your bones ache if
you come back in the evening with even the smallest leveret missing
from the herd," said the King.
Yes, that was all right. The lad was ready to take the risk, so all
morning Boots herded the hares in the paddock, and in the afternoon he
took them out to the hills, as the bargain was. There the hares could
no longer be kept in a herd. They kicked up their heels and away they
went, every which way.
So that was the game, was it? Boots was very willing to play it, too.
He took out his pipe and blew a tune on the right end of it, and away
the hares flew faster than they had intended, as though a strong wind
had blown them. Presently there was not one left on the hill. Then the
lad lay down in the sun and fell asleep.
When he awoke it was toward evening and time to be bringing the hares
back to the castle, but not one of them was in sight.
Then Boots sat up, and shook the hair out of his eyes and blew on the
wrong end of the pipe. Immediately there was the whole herd before
him, drawn up in ranks just like soldiers. Not even one of the
smallest leverets was missing.
"That is well," said Boots. "And now we'll be going home again."
Off he set for the palace, driving the hares before him, and as soon
as he came near enough he could see the King standing on the steps
waiting for him with a stout cudgel in his hand,--for he had no
thought but that Boots would fail in his task.
When he saw the whole herd come hopping home, as tame as sheep, and
turning into the paddock, he could hardly believe his eyes. He hurried
after and began to count them. He counted them over and over again,
and not one was missing.
Well, Boots had brought them all back safely that time, but the
question was whether he could do it again.
Boots thought he could. Indeed, he was sure he could. So the next
afternoon he set out for the hills, whistling merrily as he tramped
along with the hares hopping before him.
That day things happened just as they had before. As soon as the hares
began to stray Boots took his pipe and blew them away as though they
were so much chaff. He lay down and slept until it was time to take
them home again, and then he blew them together with the wrong end of
the pipe.
When the King found the lad had brought the whole herd home again for
the second time he was greatly troubled, for he had no mind to give
the Princess to Boots for a bride. So the third day he bade the
Princess go out to the hills and hide herself among the bushes and
watch and see how it was that Boots managed to keep the hares
together.
This the Princess did. She hid back of the bushes; she saw Boots come
tramping up the hill with the hares frisking before him; she saw him
blow them away with his pipe as though they had been so many dry
leaves in the wind, and then, after he had had a nap, she saw him blow
them together again.
Then the Princess must and would have that pipe. She came out from the
bushes and offered to buy it. She offered ten dollars for it.
"No."
"Fifty!"
"No!"
"A hundred!"
"No." Boots had no wish to sell, but as it was the Princess, and as
she seemed so set and determined on having it, he would tell her what
he would do; he would sell the pipe for a hundred dollars if she would
give him a kiss for every dollar she paid.
The Princess did not know what to say to that. It was not becoming
that a Princess should kiss a herdsman; still she wanted the pipe and
as that was the only way to get it she at last agreed. She paid the
lad a hundred bright silver dollars, and she also gave him a hundred
kisses out there on the hillside, with no one to look on but the
hares.
Then she took the pipe and hastened home with it.
But small good the pipe did her. Just as she reached the palace steps
the pipe slipped out of her fingers as though it had been buttered,
and look as she might she could not find it again.
That was because the lad had wished it back to himself. At that very
moment he was on his way home with the pipe in his pocket and the
hares hopping before him in lines like soldiers.
When the King heard the story he thought and pondered. The Princess
had told him nothing of the kisses. He thought she had bought the pipe
for a hundred dollars, so the next day he sent the Queen out to the
hillside with two hundred dollars in her pocket.
"The Princess is young and foolish," said he. "She must have lost the
pipe on the hillside, and no doubt the lad has it back by this time.
Do you go out and see if you can buy it from him and if you once have
your fingers on it you'll not lose it, I'll wager."
So the Queen went out to the hillside and hid herself in the bushes,
and she saw Boots blow the hares away and lie down to sleep and
afterward blow them together again in a twinkling.
Then she came out from the bushes and offered to buy the pipe. At
first the lad said no, and again no, and then no for the third time,
but in the end he sold the pipe to the Queen for two hundred dollars
and fifty kisses to go with them, and the Queen hoped the King would
never hear of it. She took the pipe and hastened home with it, but she
fared no better than the Princess, for just before she reached the
palace the pipe disappeared from her fingers, and what had become of
it she did not know.
When the King heard that he was a wroth and angry man. Now he himself
would go out to the hill and buy the pipe, for there was no trusting
the womenfolk. If he once had the pipe in his hands there would be no
losing it again, and of that he felt very sure. So he mounted his old
mare Whitey and rode over to the hillside. There he hid himself among
the bushes, and he hid old Whitey there with him, and he watched until
he had seen all that the others had told him about. Then he came out
and tried to strike a bargain with the lad. But this time it seemed as
though Boots would not sell the pipe,--neither for love nor money. The
King offered him three hundred dollars, and four hundred dollars, and
five hundred dollars for it, and still Boots said no.
"Listen!" said Boots suddenly. "If you'll go over there in the bushes
and kiss old Whitey on the mouth five-and-twenty times, I'll sell you
the pipe for five hundred dollars, but not otherwise."
That was a thing the King was loath to do, for it ill befitted a king
to kiss an old horse, but have the pipe he must and would; and besides
there was nobody there to see him do it but Boots, and he did not
count. "May I spread a handkerchief between old Whitey's mouth and
mine before I do it?" asked the King.
Yes, he might do that.
So the King went back into the bushes and spread his handkerchief over
old Whitey's mouth and kissed her through it five-and-twenty times.
Then he came back and the lad gave him the pipe, and the King mounted
and rode away with it, and he was well pleased with himself for his
cleverness, and he held the pipe tight in one hand and the bridle in
the other. "No danger of my losing it as the Queen and the Princess
did," thought he. But scarcely had the King reached the palace steps
when the pipe slipped through his fingers like water, and what became
of it he did not know.
But when Boots drove the hares home that evening he had the pipe
safely hidden away up his sleeve, though nobody knew it.
And now how about the Princess? Would the King keep his promise and
give her to the herdsman for a wife?
But that was a thing the King and Queen could not bear to think of.
They put their heads together and talked and talked, and the more they
talked the more unwilling they were to have a herdsman in the family.
So in the end this is what they said. The Princess was a very clever
girl, and she must have a clever lad for a husband. If Boots could
tell bigger stories than the Princess then he should have her for a
wife, but if she could tell bigger stories than he, then he should
have three red strips cut from his back and be beaten all the way
home.
To this Boots agreed.
Then the Princess began. "I looked out of my window," said she, "and
there was a tree that grew straight up to the sky, and the fruit of it
was diamonds and pearls and rubies. I reached out and picked them and
made myself such a necklace as never was, and I might have it yet only
I leaned over the well to look at myself in the waters, and the
necklace fell off, and there it lies still at the bottom of the well
for any one who cares to dive for it."
"That is a pretty story!" said Boots; "but I can tell a better. When I
was herding hares the Princess came up on the hill and gave me a
hundred bright silver dollars and a hundred kisses as well, one for
every dollar."
Then the King scowled till his brows met, and the Princess grew as red
as fire. "Oh, what a story!" cried she.
Then it was her turn again.
"I went to see my god-mother, and she took me for a ride in a golden
coach drawn by six fleas, and the fleas were as big as horses, and
they went so fast we were back again a day before we started."
"That's a good story," said Boots, "but here's a better. The Queen
came out on the hillside and made me a present of two hundred dollars,
and she kissed me over and over again; fifty kisses she gave me."
"Is that true?" said the King to the Queen; and his face was as black
as thunder.
"It's a great wicked story," cried the Queen, "and you must know it
is."
Then the Princess tried again. "I had six suitors, and I cared for one
no more than another, but the seventh one was a demon, and he would
have had me whether or no. He would have flown away with me before
this, but I caught his tail in the crack of the door, and he howled
most horribly. There he is still, if you care to look, unless he has
vanished in a puff of smoke."
"Now it is my turn," said Boots, "and you may believe this or not, but
it's mostly true. The King came up on the hillside and kissed the old
white mare twenty-five times. I was there and I saw. He kissed her
twenty-five times, and he gave me five hundred dollars not to tell."
When Boots told this right out before every one, the King was so
ashamed he did not know which way to look. "There's not a word of it
true. It's the biggest story I ever heard," said he.
"Very well, then I have won the Princess," said Boots. "And when shall
we be married?"
And married they were that day week, for the King and Queen could no
longer refuse to give Boots the Princess for a wife.
The Princess was willing, too, for Boots was a handsome, fine-looking
lad. They had a great feast at the wedding, with plenty of cake and
ale flowing like water. I was there, and I ate and drank with the best
of them.
Pfst! There goes a mouse. Catch it and you may make a fine big cloak
of its skin,--and that's a story, too.
THE TRIUMPH OF TRUTH
A HINDU STORY
There was once a Rajah who was both young and handsome, and yet he had
never married. One time this Rajah, whose name was Chundun, found
himself obliged to make a long journey. He took with him attendants
and horsemen, and also his Wuzeer. This Wuzeer was a very wise
man,--so wise that nothing was hid from him.
In a certain far-off part of the kingdom the Rajah saw a fine garden,
and so beautiful was it that he stopped to admire it. He was surprised
to see growing in the midst of it a small bingal tree that bore a
number of fine bingals, but not a single leaf.
"This is a very curious thing, and I do not understand it," said
Chundun Rajah to his Wuzeer. "Why does this tree bear such fine and
perfect fruit, and yet it has not a single leaf?"
"I could tell you the meaning," said the Wuzeer, "but I fear that if I
did you would not believe me and would have me punished for telling a
lie."
"That could never be," answered the Rajah; "I know you to be a very
truthful man and wise above all others. Whatever you tell me I shall
believe."
"Then this is the meaning of it," said the Wuzeer. "The gardener who
has charge of this garden has one daughter; her name is Guzra Bai, and
she is very beautiful. If you will count the bingals you will find
there are twenty-and-one. Whosoever marries the gardener's daughter
will have twenty and one children,--twenty boys and one girl."
Chundun Rajah was very much surprised at what his Wuzeer said. "I
should like to see this Guzra Bai," said he.
"You can very easily see her," answered the Wuzeer. "Early every
morning she comes into the garden to play among the flowers. If you
come here early and hide you can see her without frightening her, as
you would do if you went to her home."
The Rajah was pleased with this suggestion, and early the next morning
he came to the garden and hid himself behind a flowering bush. It was
not long before he saw the girl playing about among the flowers, and
she was so very beautiful the Rajah at once fell in love with her. He
determined to make her his Ranee, but he did not speak to her or show
himself to her then for fear of frightening her. He determined to go
to the gardener's house that evening and tell him he wished his
daughter for a wife.
As he had determined, so he did. That very evening, accompanied only
by his Wuzeer, he went to the gardener's house and knocked upon the
door.
"Who is there?" asked the gardener from within.
"It is I, the Rajah," answered Chundun. "Open the door, for I wish to
speak with you."
The gardener laughed. "That is a likely story," said he. "Why should
the Rajah come to my poor hut? No, no; you are some one who wishes to
play a trick on me, but you shall not succeed. I will not let you in."
"But it is indeed Chundun Rajah," called the Wuzeer. "Open the door
that he may speak with you."
When the gardener heard the Wuzeer's voice he came and opened the door
a crack, but still he only half believed what was told him. What was
his amazement to see that it was indeed the Rajah who stood there in
all his magnificence with his Wuzeer beside him. The poor man was
terrified, fearing Chundun would be angry, but the Rajah spoke to him
graciously.
"Do not be afraid," said he. "Call thy daughter that I may speak with
her, for it is she whom I wish to see."
The girl was hiding (for she was afraid) and would not come until her
father took her hand and drew her forward.
When the Rajah saw her now, this second time, she seemed to him even
more beautiful than at first. He was filled with joy and wonder.
"Now I will tell you why I have come here," he said. "I wish to take
Guzra Bai for my wife."
At first the gardener would not believe him, but when he found the
Rajah did indeed mean what he said he turned to his daughter. "If the
girl is willing you shall have her," said he, "but I will not force
her to marry even a Rajah."
The girl was still afraid, yet she could not but love the Rajah, so
handsome was he, and so kind and gracious was his manner. She gave her
consent, and the gardener was overjoyed at the honor that had come to
him and his daughter.
Chundun and the beautiful Guzra Bai were married soon after in the
gardener's house, and then the Rajah and his new Ranee rode away
together.
Now Chundun Rajah's mother, the old Ranee, was of a very proud and
jealous nature. When she found her son had married a common girl, the
daughter of a gardener, and that Chundun thought of nothing but his
bride and her beauty, she was very angry. She determined to rid
herself of Guzra Bai in some way or other. But Chundun watched over
his young Ranee so carefully that for a long time the old Queen could
find no chance to harm her.
But after a while the Rajah found it was again necessary for him to go
on a long journey. Just before he set out he gave Guzra Bai a little
golden bell. "If any danger should threaten or harm befall you, ring
this bell," said he. "Wherever I am I shall hear it and be with you at
once, even though I return from the farthest part of my kingdom."
No sooner had he gone than Guzra Bai began to wonder whether indeed it
were possible that he could hear the bell at any distance and return
to her. She wondered and wondered until at last her curiosity grew so
great that she could not forbear from ringing it.
No sooner had it sounded than the Rajah stood before her. "What has
happened?" he asked. "Why did you call me?"
"Nothing has happened," answered Guzra Bai, "but it did not seem to me
possible that you could really hear the bell so far away, and I could
not forbear from trying it."
"Very well," said the Rajah. "Now you know that it is true, so do not
call me again unless you have need of me."
Again he went away, and Guzra Bai sat and thought and thought about
the golden bell. At last she rang it again. At once the Rajah stood
before her.
"Oh, my dear husband, please to forgive me," cried Guzra Bai. "It
seemed so wonderful I thought I must have dreamed that the bell could
bring you back."
"Guzra Bai, do not be so foolish," said her husband. "I will forgive
you this time, but do not call me again unless you have need of me."
And he went away.
Again and for the third time Guzra Bai rang the bell, and the Rajah
appeared.
"Why do you call me again?" he asked. "Is it again for nothing, or has
something happened to you?"
"Nothing has happened," answered Guzra Bai, "only somehow I felt so
frightened that I wanted you near me."
"Guzra Bai, I am away on affairs of state," said the Rajah. "If you
call me in this way when you have no need of me, I shall soon refuse
to answer the bell. Remember this and do not call me again without
reason."
And for the third time the Rajah went away and left her.
Soon after this the young Ranee had twenty and one beautiful children,
twenty sons and one daughter.
When the old Queen heard of this she was more jealous than ever. "When
the Rajah returns and sees all these children," she thought to
herself, "he will be so delighted that he will love Guzra Bai more
dearly than ever, and nothing I can do will ever separate them." She
then began to plan within herself as to how she could get rid of the
children before the Rajah's return.
She sent for the nurse who had charge of the babies, and who was as
wicked as herself. "If you can rid me of these children, I will give
you a lac of gold pieces," she said. "Only it must be done in such a
way that the Rajah will lay all the blame on Guzra Bai."
"That can be done," answered the nurse. "I will throw the children out
on the ash heaps, where they will soon perish, and I will put stones
in their places. Then when the Rajah returns we will tell him Guzra
Bai is a wicked sorceress, who has changed her children into stones."
The old Ranee was pleased with this plan and said that she herself
would go with the nurse and see that it was carried out.
Guzra Bai looked from her window and saw the old Queen coming with the
nurse, and at once she was afraid. She was sure they intended some
harm to her or the children. She seized the golden bell and rang and
rang it, but Chundun did not come. She had called him back so often
for no reason at all that this time he did not believe she really
needed him.
The nurse and the old Ranee carried away the children, as they had
planned, and threw them on the ash heaps and brought twenty-one large
stones that they put in their places.
When Chundun Rajah returned from his journey the old Ranee met him,
weeping and tearing her hair. "Alas! alas!" she cried. "Why did you
marry a sorceress and bring such terrible misfortune upon us all!"
"What misfortune?" asked the Rajah. "What do you mean?"
His mother then told him that while he was away Guzra Bai had had
twenty-one beautiful children, but she had turned them all into
stones.
Chundun Rajah was thunderstruck. He called the wicked nurse and
questioned her. She repeated what the old Ranee had already told him
and also showed him the stones.
Then the Rajah believed them. He still loved Guzra Bai too much to put
her to death, but he had her imprisoned in a high tower, and would not
see her nor speak with her.
But meanwhile the little children who had been thrown out on the ash
heap were being well taken care of. A large rat, of the kind called
Bandicote, had heard them crying and had taken pity on them. She drew
them down into her hole, which was close by and where they would be
safe. She then called twenty of her friends together. She told them
who the children were and where she had found them, and the twenty
agreed to help her take care of the little ones. Each rat was to have
the care of one of the little boys and to bring him suitable food, and
the old Bandicote who had found them would care for the little girl.
This was done, and so well were the children fed that they grew
rapidly. Before long they were large enough to leave the rat hole and
go out to play among the ash heaps, but at night they always returned
to the hole. The old Bandicote warned them that if they saw anyone
coming they must at once hide in the hole, and under no circumstances
must any one see them.
The little boys were always careful to do this, but the little girl
was very curious. Now it so happened that one day the wicked nurse
came past the ash heaps. The little boys saw her coming and ran back
into the hole to hide. But the little girl lingered until the nurse
was quite close to her before she ran away.
The nurse went to the old Ranee, and said, "Do you know, I believe
those children are still alive? I believe they are living in a rat
hole near the ash heap, for I saw a pretty little girl playing there
among the ashes, and when I came close to her she ran down into the
largest rat hole and hid."
The Ranee was very much troubled when she heard this, for if it were
true, as she thought it might be, she feared the Rajah would hear
about it and inquire into the matter. "What shall I do?" she asked the
nurse.
"Send out and have the ground dug over and filled in," the nurse
replied. "In this way, if any of the children are hidden there, they
will be covered over and smothered, and you will also kill the rats
that have been harboring them."
The Ranee at once sent for workmen and bade them go out to the rat
holes and dig and fill them in, and the children and the rats would
certainly have been smothered just as the nurse had planned, only
luckily the old mother rat was hiding near by and overheard what was
said. She at once hastened home and told her friends what was going to
happen, and they all made their escape before the workmen arrived. She
also took the children out of the hole and hid them under the steps
that led down into an old unused well. There were twenty-one steps,
and she hid one child under each step. She told them not to utter a
sound whatever happened, and then she and her friends ran away and
left them.
Presently the workmen came with their tools and began to fill in the
rat holes. The little daughter of the head workman had come with him,
and while he and his fellows were at work the little girl amused
herself by running up and down the steps into the well. Every time she
trod upon a step it pinched the child who lay under it. The little
boys made no sound when they were pinched, but lay as still as stones,
but every time the child trod on the step under which the Princess lay
she sighed, and the third time she felt the pinch she cried out, "Have
pity on me and tread more lightly. I too am a little girl like you!"
The workman's daughter was very much frightened when she heard the
voice. She ran to her father and told him the steps had spoken to her.
The workman thought this a strange thing. He at once went to the old
Ranee and told her he dared no longer work near the well, for he
believed a witch or a demon lived there under the steps; and he
repeated what his little daughter had told him.
The wicked nurse was with the Ranee when the workman came to her. As
soon as he had gone, the nurse said: "I am sure some of those children
must still be alive. They must have escaped from the rat holes and be
hiding under the steps. If we send out there we will probably find
them."
The Ranee was frightened at the thought they might still be alive. She
ordered some servants to come with her, and she and the nurse went out
to look for the children.
But when the little girl had cried out the little boys were afraid
some harm might follow, and prayed that they might be changed into
trees, so that if any one came to search for them they might not find
them.
Their prayers were answered. The twenty little boys were changed into
twenty little banyan trees that stood in a circle, and the little girl
was changed into a rose-bush that stood in the midst of the circle and
was full of red and white roses.