it quickly to her home, where she placed it in the corner of the room,
and put over it a dozen other milk cans, piled one above another.
Then, as soon as it was dark, she called her husband and eldest son
(for she had six or seven children), and said to them, "What good
fortune do you think has befallen me to-day?"
"We cannot guess," they said. "Nothing less," she went on, "than the
wonderful, wonderful mango falling into one of my milk cans while I
slept! I have brought it home with me; it is in that lowest can. Go,
husband, call all the children to have a slice; and you, my son, take
down that pile of cans and fetch me the mango." "Mother," he said,
when he got to the lowest can, "you were joking, I suppose, when you
told us there was a mango here."
"No, not at all," she answered; "there is a mango there. I put it
there myself an hour ago."
"Well, there's something quite different now," replied the son. "Come
and see."
The Milkwoman ran to the place, and there, in the lowest can, she saw,
not the mango, but a little tiny wee lady, richly dressed in red and
gold, and no bigger than a mango! On her head shone a bright jewel
like a little sun.
"This is very odd," said the mother. "I never heard of such a thing in
my life! But since she has been sent to us, I will take care of her,
as if she were my own child."
Every day the little lady grew taller and taller, until she was the
size of an ordinary woman; she was gentle and lovable, but always sad
and quiet, and she said her name was "Surya Bai."
The children were all very curious to know her history, but the
Milkwoman and her husband would not let her be teased to tell who she
was, and said to the children, "Let us wait. By and by, when she knows
us better, she will most likely tell us her story of her own accord."
Now it came to pass that once, when Surya Bai was taking water from
the well for the old Milkwoman, the Rajah rode by, and as he saw her
walking along, he cried, "That is my wife," and rode after her as
fast as possible. Surya Bai hearing a great clatter of horses' hoofs,
was frightened, and ran home as fast as possible, and hid herself; and
when the Rajah reached the place there was only the old Milkwoman to
be seen standing at the door of her hut.
Then the Rajah said to her, "Give her up, old woman, you have no right
to keep her; she is mine, she is mine!"
But the old woman answered, "Are you mad? I don't know what you mean."
The Rajah replied, "Do not attempt to deceive me. I saw my wife go in
at your door; she must be in the house."
"Your wife?" screamed the old woman--"your wife? you mean my daughter,
who lately returned from the well! Do you think I am going to give my
child up at your command? You are Rajah in your palace, but I am Rajah
in my own house; and I won't give up my little daughter for any
bidding of yours. Be off with you, or I'll pull out your beard." And
so saying, she seized a long stick and attacked the Rajah, calling out
loudly to her husband and sons, who came running to her aid.
The Rajah, seeing matters were against him, and having outridden his
attendants (and not being quite certain moreover whether he had seen
Surya Bai, or whether she might not have been really the poor
Milkwoman's daughter), rode off and returned to his palace.
However, he determined to sift the matter. As a first step he went to
see Surya Bai's old attendant, who was still in prison. From her he
learned enough to make him believe she was not only entirely innocent
of Surya Bai's death, but gravely to suspect the first Ranee of having
caused it. He therefore ordered the old woman to be set at liberty,
still keeping a watchful eye on her, and bade her prove her devotion
to her long-lost mistress by going to the Milkwoman's house, and
bringing him as much information as possible about the family, and
more particularly about the girl he had seen returning from the well.
So the attendant went to the Milkwoman's house, and made friends with
her, and bought some milk, and afterward she stayed and talked to
her.
After a few days the Milkwoman ceased to be suspicious of her, and
became quite cordial.
Surya Bai's attendant then told how she had been the late Ranee's
waiting-woman, and how the Rajah had thrown her into prison on her
mistress's death; in return for which intelligence the old Milkwoman
imparted to her how the wonderful mango had tumbled into her can as
she slept under the tree, and how it had miraculously changed in the
course of an hour into a beautiful little lady. "I wonder why she
should have chosen my poor house to live in, instead of any one
else's," said the old woman.
Then Surya Bai's attendant said, "Have you ever asked her her history?
Perhaps she would not mind telling it to you now."
So the Milkwoman called the girl, and as soon as the old attendant saw
her, she knew it was none other than Surya Bai, and her heart jumped
for joy; but she remained silent, wondering much, for she knew her
mistress had been drowned in the tank.
The old Milkwoman turned to Surya Bai and said, "My child, you have
lived long with us, and been a good daughter to me; but I have never
asked you your history, because I thought it must be a sad one; but if
you do not fear to tell it to me now, I should like to hear it."
Surya Bai answered, "Mother, you speak true; my story is sad. I
believe my real mother was a poor Milkwoman like you, and that she
took me with her one day when I was quite a little baby, as she was
going to sell milk in the bazaar. But being tired with the long walk,
she sat down to rest, and placed me also on the ground, when suddenly
a great Eagle flew down and carried me away. But all the father and
mother I ever knew were the two great Eagles."
"Ah, my child! my child!" cried the Milkwoman, "I was that poor woman;
the Eagles flew away with my eldest girl when she was only a year old.
Have I found you after these many years?"
And she ran and called all her children, and her husband, to tell them
the wonderful news.
And there was great rejoicing among them all.
When they were a little calmer, her mother said to Surya Bai, "Tell
us, dear daughter, how your life has been spent since first we lost
you." And Surya Bai went on:
"The old Eagles took me away to their home, and there I lived happily
many years. They loved to bring me all the beautiful things they could
find, and at last one day they both went to fetch me a diamond ring
from the Red Sea; but while they were gone the fire went out in the
nest: so I went to an old woman's hut, and got her to give me some
fire; and next day (I don't know how it was), as I was opening the
outer door of the cage, a sharp thing, that was sticking in it, ran
into my hand and I fell down senseless.
"I don't know how long I lay there, but when I came to myself, I found
the Eagles must have come back, and thought me dead, and gone away,
for the diamond ring was on my little finger; a great many people were
watching over me, and amongst them was a Rajah, who asked me to go
home with him and be his wife, and he brought me to this place, and I
was his Ranee.
"But his other wife, the first Ranee, hated me (for she was jealous),
and desired to kill me; and one day she accomplished her purpose by
pushing me into the tank, for I was young and foolish, and disregarded
the warnings of my faithful old attendant, who begged me not to go
near the place. Ah! if I had only listened to her words I might have
been happy still."
At these words the old attendant, who had been sitting in the
background, rushed forward and kissed Surya Bai's feet, crying; "Ah,
my lady! my lady! have I found you at last!" and, without staying to
hear more, she ran back to the palace to tell the Rajah the glad news.
Then Surya Bai told her parents how she had not wholly died in the
tank, but become a sunflower; and how the first Ranee; seeing how fond
the Rajah was of the plant, had caused it to be thrown away; and then
how she had risen from the ashes of the sunflower, in the form of a
mango tree; and how when the tree blossomed all her spirit went into
the little mango flower, and she ended by saying: "And when the flower
became fruit, I know not by what irresistible impulse I was induced
to throw myself into your milk can. Mother--it was my destiny, and as
soon as you took me into your house, I began to recover my human
form."
"Why, then," asked her brothers and sisters, "why do you not tell the
Rajah that you are living, and that you are the Ranee Surya Bai?"
"Alas," she answered, "I could not do that. Who knows but that he may
be influenced by the first Ranee, and also desire my death. Let me
rather be poor like you, but safe from danger."
Then her mother cried, "Oh, what a stupid woman I am! The Rajah one
day came seeking you here, but I and your father and brothers drove
him away, for we did not know you were indeed the lost Ranee."
As she spoke these words a sound of horses' hoofs was heard in the
distance, and the Rajah himself appeared, having heard the good news
of Surya Bai's return from her old attendant.
It is impossible to tell the joy of the Rajah at finding his long-lost
wife, but it was not greater than Surya Bai's at being restored to her
husband.
Then the Rajah turned to the old Milkwoman, and said "Old woman, you
did not tell me true, for it was indeed my wife who was in your hut."
"Yes, Protector of the Poor," answered the old Milkwoman, "but it was
also my daughter." Then they told him how Surya Bai was the
Milkwoman's child.
At hearing this the Rajah commanded them all to return with him to the
palace. He gave Surya Bai's father a village and, ennobled the family;
and he said to Surya Bai's old attendant, "For the good service you
have done you shall be palace housekeeper," and he gave her great
riches; adding, "I can never repay the debt I owe you, nor make you
sufficient recompense for having caused you to be unjustly cast into
prison." But she replied, "Sire, even in your anger you were
temperate; if you had caused me to be put to death, as some would have
done, none of this good might have come upon you; it is yourself you
have to thank."
The wicked first Ranee was cast, for the rest of her life, into the
prison in which the old attendant had been thrown; but Surya Bai lived
happily with her husband the rest of her days; and in memory of her
adventures, he planted round their palace a hedge of sunflowers and a
grove of mango trees.
_The Storks and the Night Owl_
Chasid, Caliph of Bagdad, which, by the way, is on the river Tigris,
and was long, long ago the capital of the ancient Saracen Empire, was
comfortably seated upon his sofa one beautiful afternoon. He had slept
a little, for it was a very hot day, and he seemed cheerful after his
nap.
He smoked from a long pipe made of rosewood; sipped now and then a
little coffee, which a slave poured out for him, and stroked his beard
very contentedly. So it was very plain that the Caliph was in a good
humour. This was generally the case at this hour, as it was the custom
of his Grand Vizier Manzor to visit him every day about this time. He
came this afternoon, but he seemed very thoughtful. The Caliph looked
at him, and said: "Grand Vizier, why is thy countenance so sad?"
The Grand Vizier crossed his arms over his breast, bowed himself
before his lord, and said: "My lord, I am sad because in the court
below there is a merchant who has such fine wares that I am troubled
because I have so little money to spare to purchase them."
The Caliph, who had for a long time past desired to confer a favour
upon his Grand Vizier, sent his black slave to bring up the merchant.
The slave soon returned with him. The merchant was a short stout man,
with a dark brown face, and in ragged attire. He carried a chest, in
which he had various kinds of wares, pearls and rings, richly inlaid
pistols, goblets and combs. The Caliph and his Vizier looked at them,
and the former purchased some beautiful pistols for himself and
Manzor. As the merchant was about to pack up his chest the Caliph saw
a small drawer, and asked what it contained. The merchant drew out the
drawer, and showed therein a box filled with blackish powder and a
paper with strange writing upon it, which neither the Caliph nor
Manzor could read. "I received these things from a merchant who found
them in the streets of Mecca," said he. "I know not what they contain.
They are at your service for a trifling price, for I can do nothing
with them."
The Caliph, who was a great collector of old manuscripts for his
library, even if he could not read them, purchased box and writings,
and dismissed the merchant. But it occurred to the Caliph that he
would like to know the meaning of the writing, and he asked the Vizier
whether he knew anyone who could read it.
"Most worthy lord and master," replied the Vizier, "near the great
Mosque there dwells a man who understands all languages; he is called
'Selim the Wise.' Send for him; perhaps he may be able to interpret
the writing."
The learned Selim was soon brought. "Selim," said the Caliph, "they
say thou art very learned; peep now into this writing, and see if thou
canst read it. If thou canst, thou shalt have a rich new garment; if
thou canst not, thou shalt be beaten with five-and-twenty strokes upon
the soles of thy feet, for in that case thou art without the right to
be called 'Selim the Wise.'"
Selim bowed himself and said: "Thy will be done, my lord." For a long
time he examined the writing, then suddenly exclaimed, "This is Latin,
my lord."
"Say what it means," commanded the Caliph, "if it be Latin."
Selim commenced to translate the documents. "Oh man, thou who findest
this, praise Allah for His great goodness to thee. Whoever snuffs of
the powder contained in this box, and says thereupon 'Mutabor,' will
have the power to change himself into any animal he may choose, and
will be able to understand the language of that animal and all others.
Should he wish to return to his human form he must bow himself three
times to the East, and in the direction of our holy Mecca, and repeat
the same word. But beware, when thou art transformed that thou
laughest not, otherwise the magic word will disappear completely from
thy memory and thou wilt remain a beast."
When Selim the Wise had read this, the Caliph was delighted beyond
measure. He bound over the sage that he would disclose the secret to
no one, presented him with the promised rich garment, and dismissed
him. But to his Grand Vizier he said: "That I call a good purchase,
Manzor. I can scarcely restrain my delight until I am a beast. Early
to-morrow morning come thou hither; we will go together into the
field, snuff a little out of the box, and then listen to what is said
in the air, and in the water, in the wood, and in the field."
On the following morning the Caliph had scarcely breakfasted when the
Grand Vizier appeared to accompany him upon his walk, as he had
commanded him. The Caliph placed the box with the magic powder in his
girdle, and, having directed his train to remain behind, he set out
alone with his Grand Vizier. They went through the spacious gardens of
the Caliph, and looked around, but in vain, for some living thing,
that they might try their trick. The Vizier at length proposed that
they should go further on, to a pond where he had often seen many of
those beautiful creatures called Storks, which, by their grave
appearance and their continual clacking, had always excited his
attention.
The Caliph approved the proposal of the Vizier, and they went together
to the pond. When they had arrived they saw a stork walking gravely up
and down looking for frogs, and now and then clacking something to
himself. At the same time they saw also, far above in the air, another
stork hovering over the pond.
"I am pretty sure," said the Grand Vizier, "that these two long-legged
fellows are carrying on a fine conversation with each other. What if
we should become storks?"
"Well said!" replied the Caliph. "But first let us consider, once
more, how we are to become men again. True! three times must we bend
toward the East and in the direction of Mecca, and say 'Mutabor,' then
I am Caliph again and thou Vizier. But we must take care whatever we
do, not to laugh, or we are lost."
While the Caliph was thus speaking he saw the other stork hover over
their heads and slowly descend toward the earth. He drew the box
quickly from his girdle, took a good pinch, offered it to the Grand
Vizier, who also snuffed it, and both cried out "Mutabor!"
At once their legs began to shrivel up, and soon became thin and red.
The beautiful yellow slippers of the Caliph and of his companion were
changed into the strange-shaped feet of the stork; their arms were
changed to wings; their necks were lengthened out from their shoulders
and became a yard long; their beards had disappeared, and their bodies
were covered with feathers which were soft, fine and graceful.
"You have a beautiful beak," said the Caliph after a long pause of
astonishment. "By the beard of the Prophet, I have never seen anything
like it in my life."
"I thank you most humbly," replied the Grand Vizier, while he made his
obeisance. "But if it were permitted I might say that your Highness
looks even more handsome as a stork than as a Caliph. But come, if it
please you, let us listen to our comrades yonder, and find out whether
we really understand the language of the storks."
In the meanwhile the other stork had reached the ground. He trimmed
his feet with his beak, put his feathers in order, and advanced to his
companion. The two new storks hastened to get near them, and to their
great surprise heard the following conversation:--
"Good morning, Lady Longlegs, already so early in the meadow."
"Thank you, dear Clatterbeak, I have had only a slight breakfast."
"Would you like, perhaps, a piece of a duck or the leg of a frog?"
"Much obliged, but I have no appetite to-day. I have come into the
meadow for a very different purpose. I am to dance to-day before some
guests of my father's, and I wish to practise here a little quietly by
myself."
The young stork immediately jumped about the field with singular
motions. The Caliph and Manzor looked on with wonder; but as she stood
in a picturesque attitude upon one foot, and fluttered her wings
gracefully, they could no longer contain themselves--an irresistible
laughter burst forth from their beaks, from which they could not
recover themselves for a long time. The Caliph first collected
himself. "That was a joke now," he exclaimed, "that is not to be
purchased with gold. Pity that the foolish creatures have been
frightened away by our laughter, otherwise perhaps they might even
have sung!"
But it now occurred to the Grand Vizier that laughter had been
specially forbidden them during their transformation. He told his
anxiety to the Caliph. "Dear me, dear me, it would indeed be a
sorrowful joke if I must remain a stork. Pray bethink thyself of the
magic word. For the life of me I can't remember it."
"Three times must we bow to the East and to Mecca, and then say, 'Mu,
mu, mu.'"
They turned toward the East, and bowed and bowed, so that their beaks
almost touched the earth. But alas! alas! the magic word would not
come. However often the Caliph bowed himself and however anxiously the
Vizier called out "Mu, mu," all recollection of it had vanished, and
the poor Caliph and Vizier remained storks.
Very mournfully did the enchanted ones wander through the fields. They
knew not what to do in their great distress. They could not rid
themselves of their storks' skin and feathers; they could not return
to the city to make themselves known, for who would have believed a
stork, if he had said he was the Caliph? And even if they should
believe it, the inhabitants of Bagdad would not have a stork for their
Caliph. Thus they wandered about for several days, and nourished
themselves with the fruits of the field, which they could not eat very
conveniently on account of their long beaks. For ducks and frogs they
had no appetite; they were afraid that with such food they might
fatally disorder their stomachs. It was their only pleasure in this
sad condition that they could fly, and so they often flew upon the
roofs of Bagdad to see what passed in the city.
During the first days they observed great disorder and mourning in the
streets, but about the fourth day after their transformation, as they
stood upon the Caliph's palace, they saw in the street a splendid
procession. Drums and fifes sounded; a man in a scarlet mantle,
embroidered with gold, rode a richly caparisoned steed, surrounded by
a brilliant train of attendants.
Half Bagdad leaped to meet him, and all cried: "Hail, Mirza, Lord of
Bagdad!" The two storks upon the roof of the palace looked at each
other, and the Caliph said: "Canst thou now divine, Grand Vizier, why
I am enchanted? This Mirza is the son of my deadly enemy, the mighty
magician Cachnur, who, in an evil hour, swore revenge upon me. But
still I will not give up hope. Come with me, thou true companion of my
misfortune! We will wander to the grave of the Prophet. Perhaps on
that holy spot this spell will vanish;" and they at once soared from
the roof of the palace and flew toward Mecca.
But flying was no easy matter to them, for the two storks had as yet
but little practice. "Oh, my lord," sighed the Grand Vizier, after a
few hours, "with your permission I must stop, for I can bear it no
longer; you fly altogether too fast. Besides it is now evening, and we
should do well to seek a shelter for the night." Chasid at once
yielded to the prayer of the Vizier, and, as they at this moment
perceived a ruin in the valley below, they flew thither. The place in
which they had taken refuge for the night seemed formerly to have been
a castle. Beautiful columns overtopped the ruins, and several
chambers, which were still in a fair state of preservation, gave
evidence of the former splendour of the building. Chasid and his
companion wandered through the passages to find a dry spot for
themselves. Suddenly the stork Manzor stopped. "My Lord and master,"
he whispered softly, "if it were not folly in a Grand Vizier, and
still more in a stork, to be afraid of spirits, I should feel much
alarmed, for something near by us sighed and groaned very plainly."
The Caliph also stood still, and heard very distinctly a low weeping
that seemed rather to come from a human being than from an animal.
Full of expectation, he was about to advance toward the place from
whence came the sounds of weeping and sighing, when the Vizier seized
him by the wing with his beak and begged him very earnestly not to
plunge into new and unknown dangers But in vain! The Caliph, who bore
a brave heart under his stork's wing, tore himself loose, with the
loss of some of his feathers, and hastened into a dark passage-way. He
soon arrived at a door which seemed to be partly open, and through
which he overheard distinct sighs, with a slight moaning. In the
ruined chamber, which was but dimly lighted by a small grated window,
he saw a large night owl upon the floor. Big tears rolled from her
large round eyes, and with a hoarse voice she sent forth her cries
from her curved beak. As soon, however, as she saw the Caliph and
Vizier she gave a loud scream of joy. Gracefully she wiped the tears
from her eyes with her brown-spotted wing, and to the great
astonishment of both she exclaimed, in good plain Arabic, "Welcome, ye
storks! Ye are a good sign of my rescue, for it has been told me that
by a stork I shall attain to great happiness."
When the Caliph had recovered from his astonishment he bowed with his
long neck, brought his thin feet into a handsome position, and said:
"Night owl, from thy words I think that thou art a companion in
suffering. But alas! the hope that thou wilt be rescued by us is vain.
Thou wilt see our helplessness when we have told thee our history."
The night owl begged him to relate it. The Caliph commenced, and
repeated what we already know.
When the Caliph had told the owl his history she thanked him and said: