Loki now saw the danger he was in of being caught in the net, and, as

there was no other way of escape, he rose to the surface, swam down

the river as quickly as he could, and leaped over the net into the

waterfall. He swam and leaped quick as a flash of lightning, but not

so quickly but that the gods saw him, knew him through his disguise,

and resolved that he should no longer escape. They themselves divided

into two bands. Thor waded down the river to the waterfall; the other

gods stood in a group below. Loki swam backwards and forwards between

them. First he thought he would dart out into the sea, and then that

he would spring over the net back again into the river. This last

seemed the easiest way of escape, and with the greatest speed he

attempted it. Thor, however, was watching for him, and as soon as Loki

leaped out of the water he stretched out his hand and caught him

while he was yet turning in the air. Loki wriggled his slippery, slimy

length through Thor's fingers; but the Thunderer grasped him tightly

by the tail, and, holding him in this manner in this hand, waded

to the shore. There Father Odin and the other gods met him; and, at

Odin's first searching look, Loki was obliged to drop his disguise,

and, cowering and frightened, to assume his proper shape before the

assembled lords. One by one they turned their faces from him; for, in

looking at him, they seemed to see over again the death of Baldur the

Beloved.

You were told that there were high rocks looking over the sea near

Loki's house. One of these, higher than the rest, had midway four

projecting stones, and to these the gods resolved to bind Loki so that

he should never again be able to torment the inhabitants of Manheim or

Asgard by his evil-doings. Thor proposed to return to Asgard, to bring

a chain with which to bind the prisoner; but Odin assured him that

he had no need to take such a journey. "Loki," he said, "has already

forged for himself a chain stronger than any you can make. While

we have been occupied in catching him, his two sons, Ali and Nari,

transformed into wolves by their evil passions, have fought with and

destroyed each other. With their sinews we must make a chain to bind

their father, and from that he can never escape."

It was done as Asa Odin said. A rope was made of the dead wolves'

sinews, and as soon as it touched Loki's body it turned into bands of

iron and bound him immovably to the rock. Secured in this manner the

gods left him.

[Illustration: THE PUNISHMENT OF LOKI.]

But his punishment did not end here. A snake, whose fangs dropped

poison, glided to the top of the rock and leaned his head over to peer

at Loki. The eyes of the two met and fixed each other. The serpent

could never move away afterwards; but every moment a burning drop from

his tongue fell down on Loki's shuddering face.

In all the world there was only one who pitied him. His kind wife ever

afterwards stood beside him and held a cup over his head to catch the

poison. When the cup was full, she was obliged to turn away to empty

it, and the deadly drops fell again on Loki's face. He shuddered and

shrank from them, and the whole earth trembled. So will he lie bound

till the Twilight of the Gods be here.

MYTHS OF INDIA

THE BLIND MAN, THE DEAF MAN, AND THE DONKEY

ADAPTED BY M. FRERE

A Blind Man and a Deaf Man once entered into partnership. The Deaf Man

was to see for the Blind Man, and the Blind Man was to hear for the

Deaf Man.

One day they went together to an entertainment where there was music

and dancing. The Deaf Man said: "The dancing is very good, but the

music is not worth listening to"; and the Blind Man said: "On the

contrary, I think the music very good, but the dancing is not worth

looking at."

After this they went together for a walk in the jungle, and there

found a washerman's Donkey that had strayed away from its owner, and a

great big kettle (such as washermen boil clothes in), which the Donkey

was carrying with him.

The Deaf Man said to the Blind Man: "Brother, here are a Donkey and

a washerman's great big kettle, with nobody to own them! Let us take

them with us--they may be useful to us some day." "Very well," said

the Blind Man; "we will take them with us." So the Blind Man and the

Deaf Man went on their way, taking the Donkey and the great big kettle

with them. A little farther on they came to an ant's nest, and the

Deaf Man said to the Blind Man: "Here are a number of very fine black

ants, much larger than any I ever saw before. Let us take some of them

home to show our friends." "Very well," answered the Blind Man; "we

will take them as a present to our friends." So the Deaf Man took a

silver snuff-box out of his pocket, and put four or five of the finest

black ants into it; which done, they continued their journey.

But before they had gone very far a terrible storm came on. It

thundered and lightened and rained and blew with such fury that it

seemed as if the whole heavens' and earth were at war. "Oh dear! oh

dear!" cried the Deaf Man, "how dreadful this lightning is! Let us

make haste and get to some place of shelter." "I don't see that it's

dreadful at all," answered the blind Man; "but the thunder is very

terrible; we had better certainly seek some place of shelter."

Now, not far off was a lofty building, which looked exactly like a

fine temple. The Deaf Man saw it, and he and the Blind Man resolved to

spend the night there; and having reached the place, they went in and

shut the door, taking the Donkey and the great big kettle with them.

But this building, which they mistook for a temple was in truth no

temple at all, but the house of a very powerful Rakshas or ogre; and

hardly had the Blind Man, the Deaf Man, and the Donkey got inside and

fastened the door, than the Rakshas, who had been out, returned home.

To his surprise, he found the door fastened and heard people moving

about inside his house. "Ho! ho!" cried he to himself, "some men have

got in here, have they? I'll soon make mince-meat of them." So he

began to roar in a voice louder than the thunder, and to cry: "Let me

into my house this minute, you wretches; let me in, let me in, I say,"

and to kick the door and batter it with his great fists. But though

his voice was very powerful, his appearance was still more alarming,

insomuch that the Deaf Man, who was peeping at him through a chink in

the wall, felt so frightened that he did not know what to do. But the

Blind Man was very brave (because he couldn't see), and went up to

the door and called out: "Who are you, and what do you mean by coming

battering at the door in this way at this time of night?"

"I'm a Rakshas," answered the Rakshas angrily, "and this is my house.

Let me in this instant or I'll kill you." All this time the Deaf Man,

who was watching the Rakshas, was shivering and shaking in a terrible

fright, but the Blind Man was very brave (because he couldn't see),

and he called out again: "Oh, you're a Rakshas, are you? Well, if

you're Rakshas, I'm Bakshas; and Bakshas is as good as Rakshas."

"Bakshas!" roared the Rakshas. "Bakshas! Bakshas! What nonsense is

this? There is no such creature as a Bakshas!" "Go away," replied the

Blind Man, "and don't dare to make any further disturbance, lest I

punish you with a vengeance; for know that I'm Bakshas, and Bakshas

is Rakshas's father." "My father?" answered the Rakshas. "Heavens and

earth! Bakshas, and my father! I never heard such an extraordinary

thing in my life. You my father; and in there! I never knew my father

was called Bakshas!"

"Yes," replied the Blind Man; "go away instantly, I command you, for

I am your father Bakshas." "Very well," answered the Rakshas (for he

began to get puzzled and frightened); "but if you are my father, let

me first see your face." (For he thought: "Perhaps they are deceiving

me.") The Blind Man and the Deaf Man didn't know what to do; but at

last they opened the door a very tiny chink and poked the Donkey's

nose out. When the Rakshas saw it he thought to himself: "Bless me,

what a terribly ugly face my father Bakshas has!" He then called out:

"O father Bakshas, you have a very big, fierce face; but people have

sometimes very big heads and very little bodies. Pray let me see your

body as well as head before I go away." Then the Blind Man and the

Deaf Man rolled the washerman's great big kettle with a thundering

noise past the chink in the door, and the Rakshas, who was watching

attentively, was very much surprised when he saw this great black

thing rolling along the floor, and he thought: "In truth, my father

Bakshas has a very big body as well as a big head. He's big enough to

eat me up altogether. I'd better go away." But still he could not help

being a little doubtful, so he cried: "O Bakshas, father Bakshas! you

have indeed got a very big head and a very big body; but do, before

I go away, let me hear you scream," for all Rakshas scream fearfully.

Then the cunning Deaf Man (who was getting less frightened) pulled the

silver snuff-box out of his pocket, and took the black ants out of it,

and put one black ant in the Donkey's right ear, and another black ant

in the Donkey's left ear, and another and another. The ants pinched

the poor Donkey's ears dreadfully, and the Donkey was so hurt and

frightened he began to bellow as loud as he could: "Eh augh! eh augh!

eh augh! augh! augh!" and at this terrible noise the Rakshas fled away

in a great fright, saying: "Enough, enough, father Bakshas! the sound

of your voice would make the most refractory obedient." And no sooner

had he gone than the Deaf Man took the ants out of the Donkey's ears,

and he and the Blind Man spent the rest of the night in peace and

comfort.

Next morning the Deaf Man woke the Blind Man early, saying: "Awake,

brother, awake: here we are indeed in luck! The whole floor is covered

with heaps of gold and silver and precious stones." And so it was, for

the Rakshas owned a vast amount of treasure, and the whole house was

full of it. "That is a good thing," said the Blind Man. "Show me where

it is and I will help you to collect it." So they collected as much

treasure as possible and made four great bundles of it. The Blind Man

took one great bundle, the Deaf Man took another, and, putting the

other two great bundles on the Donkey, they started off to return

home. But the Rakshas, whom they had frightened away the night before,

had not gone very far off, and was waiting to see what his father

Bakshas might look like by daylight. He saw the door of his house open

and watched attentively, when out walked--only a Blind Man, a Deaf

Man, and a Donkey, who were all three laden with large bundles of

his treasure. The Blind Man carried one bundle, the Deaf Man carried

another bundle, and two bundles were on the Donkey.

The Rakshas was extremely angry, and immediately called six of his

friends to help him kill the Blind Man, the Deaf Man, and the Donkey,

and recover the treasure.

The Deaf Man saw them coming (seven great Rakshas, with hair a yard

long and tusks like an elephant's), and was dreadfully frightened;

but the Blind Man was very brave (because he couldn't see), and said:

"Brother, why do you lag behind in that way?" "Oh!" answered the Deaf

Man, "there are seven great Rakshas with tusks like an elephant's

coming to kill us! What can we do?" "Let us hide the treasure in the

bushes," said the Blind Man; "and do you lead me to a tree; then I

will climb up first, and you shall climb up afterward, and so we shall

be out of their way." The Deaf Man thought this good advice; so he

pushed the Donkey and the bundles of treasure into the bushes, and led

the Blind Man to a high soparee-tree that grew close by; but he was a

very cunning man, this Deaf Man, and instead of letting the Blind Man

climb up first and following him, he got up first and let the Blind

Man clamber after, so that he was farther out of harm's way than his

friend.

When the Rakshas arrived at the place and saw them both perched out of

reach in the soparee-tree, he said to his friends: "Let us get on each

other's shoulders; we shall then be high enough to pull them down." So

one Rakshas stooped down, and the second got on his shoulders, and

the third on his, and the fourth on his, and the fifth on his, and the

sixth on his; and the seventh and the last Rakshas (who had invited

all the others) was just climbing up when the Deaf Man (who was

looking over the Blind Man's shoulder) got so frightened that in his

alarm he caught hold of his friend's arm, crying: "They're coming,

they're coming!" The Blind Man was not in a very secure position, and

was sitting at his ease, not knowing how close the Rakshas were. The

consequence was, that when the Deaf Man gave him this unexpected push,

he lost his balance and tumbled down on to the neck of the seventh

Rakshas, who was just then climbing up. The Blind Man had no idea

where he was, but thought he had got on to the branch of some other

tree; and, stretching out his hand for something to catch hold of,

caught hold of the Rakshas's two great ears, and pinched them very

hard in his surprise and fright. The Rakshas couldn't think what it

was that had come tumbling down upon him; and the weight of the Blind

Man upsetting his balance, down he also fell to the ground, knocking

down in their turn the sixth, fifth, fourth, third, second, and first

Rakshas, who all rolled one over another, and lay in a confused heap

at the foot of the tree together.

Meanwhile the Blind Man called out to his friend: "Where am I? What

has happened? Where am I? Where am I?" The Deaf Man (who was safe up

in the tree) answered: "Well done, brother! never fear! never fear!

You're all right, only hold on tight. I'm coming down to help you."

But he had not the least intention of leaving his place of safety.

However, he continued to call out: "Never mind, brother; hold on as

tight as you can. I'm coming, I'm coming," and the more he called out,

the harder the Blind Man pinched the Rakshas's ears, which he mistook

for some kind of palm branches.

The six other Rakshas, who had succeeded, after a good deal of

kicking, in extricating themselves from their unpleasant position,

thought they had had quite enough of helping their friend, and ran

away as fast as they could; and the seventh, thinking from their going

that the danger must be greater than he imagined, and being, moreover,

very much afraid of the mysterious creature that sat on his shoulders,

put his hands to the back of his ears and pushed off the Blind Man,

and then, (without staying to see who or what he was) followed his six

companions as fast as he could.

As soon as all the Rakshas were out of sight, the Deaf Man came down

from the tree, and, picking up the Blind Man, embraced him, saying:

"I could not have done better myself. You have frightened away all our

enemies, but you see I came to help you as fast as possible." He then

dragged the Donkey and the bundles of treasure out of the bushes, gave

the Blind Man one bundle to carry, took the second himself, and put

the remaining two on the Donkey, as before. This done, the whole party

set off to return home. But when they had got nearly out of the jungle

the Deaf Man said to the Blind Man: "We are now close to the village;

but if we take all this treasure home with us, we shall run great risk

of being robbed. I think our best plan would be to divide it equally;

then you can take care of your half and I will take care of mine, and

each one can hide his share here in the jungle, or wherever pleases

him best." "Very well," said the Blind Man; "do you divide what we

have in the bundles into two equal portions, keeping one half yourself

and giving me the other." The cunning Deaf Man, however, had no

intention of giving up half of the treasure to the Blind Man; so he

first took his own bundle of treasure and hid it in the bushes,

and then he took the two bundles off the Donkey and hid them in the

bushes; and he took a good deal of treasure out of the Blind Man's

bundle, which he also hid. Then, taking the small quantity that

remained, he divided it into two equal portions, and placing half

before the Blind Man and half in front of himself, said: "There,

brother, is your share to do what you please with." The Blind Man put

out his hand, but when he felt what a very little heap of treasure

it was, he got very angry, and cried: "This is not fair--you are

deceiving me; you have kept almost all the treasure for yourself and

only given me a very little." "Oh, oh! how can you think so?" answered

the Deaf Man; "but if you will not believe me, feel for yourself. See,

my heap of treasure is no larger than yours."

The Blind Man put out his hands again to feel how much his friend

had kept; but in front of the Deaf Man lay only a very small heap, no

larger than what he had himself received. At this he got very cross,

and said: "Come, come, this won't do. You think you can cheat me in

this way because I am blind; but I'm not so stupid as all that, I

carried a great bundle of treasure, you carried a great bundle of

treasure, and there were two great bundles on the Donkey. Do you mean

to pretend that all that made no more treasure than these two little

heaps! No, indeed; I know better than that." "Stuff and nonsense!"

answered the Deaf Man. "Stuff or no stuff," continued the other, "you

are trying to take me in, and I won't be taken in by you." "No, I'm

not," said the Deaf Man. "Yes, you are," said the Blind Man; and so

they went on bickering, scolding, growling, contradicting, until the

Blind Man got so enraged that he gave the Deaf Man a tremendous box on

the ear. The blow was so violent that it made the Deaf Man hear! The

Deaf Man, very angry, gave his neighbor in return so hard a blow in

the face that it opened the Blind Man's eyes!

So the Deaf Man could hear as well as see, and the Blind Man could see

as well as hear! This astonished them both so much that they became

good friends at once. The Deaf Man confessed to have hidden the bulk

of the treasure, which he thereupon dragged forth from its place of

concealment, and having divided it equally, they went home and enjoyed

themselves.

HARISARMAN

There was in a certain village, a certain Brahman named Harisarman.

He was poor and foolish and unhappy for want of employment, and he had

very many children. He wandered about begging with his family, and

at last he reached a certain city, and entered the service of a

rich householder called Sthuladatta. His sons became keepers of

Sthuladatta's cows and other property, and his wife a servant to

him, and he himself lived near his house, performing the duty of an

attendant. One day there was a feast on account of the marriage of

the daughter of Sthuladatta, largely attended by many friends of the

bridegroom and merry-makers. Harisarman hoped that he would be able to

fill himself up to the throat with oil and flesh and other dainties,

and get the same for his family, in the house of his patron. While he

was anxiously expecting to be fed, no one thought of him.

Then he was distressed at getting nothing to eat, and he said to his

wife at night: "It is owing to my poverty and stupidity that I am

treated with such disrespect here; so I will pretend by means of an

artifice to possess a knowledge of magic, so that I may become

an object of respect to this Sthuladatta; so, when you get an

opportunity, tell him that I possess magical knowledge." He said this

to her, and after turning the matter over in his mind, while people

were asleep he took away from the house of Sthuladatta a horse on

which his master's son-in-law rode. He placed it in concealment at

some distance, and in the morning the friends of the bridegroom could

not find the horse, though they searched in every direction. Then,

while Sthuladatta was distressed at the evil omen, and searching for

the thieves who had carried off the horse, the wife of Harisarman came

and said to him: "My husband is a wise man, skilled in astrology and

magical sciences; he can get the horse back for you--why do you not

ask him?" When Sthuladatta heard that, he called Harisarman, who said,

"Yesterday I was forgotten, but to-day, now the horse is stolen, I

am called to mind;" and Sthuladatta then propitiated the Brahman with

these words: "I forgot you, forgive me," and asked him to tell him

who had taken away their horse. Then Harisarman drew all kinds of

pretended diagrams, and said: "The horse has been placed by thieves

on the boundary line south from this place. It is concealed there, and

before it is carried off to a distance, as it will be at close of

day, go quickly and bring it." When they heard that, many men ran and

brought the horse quickly, praising the discernment of Harisarman.

Then Harisarman was honored by all men as a sage, and dwelt there in

happiness, honored by Sthuladatta.

Now, as days went on, much treasure, both of gold and jewels, had been

stolen by a thief from the palace of the King. As the thief was

not known, the King quickly summoned Harisarman on account of his

reputation for knowledge of magic. And he, when summoned, tried to

gain time, and said: "I will tell you to-morrow," and then he was

placed in a chamber by the King and carefully guarded. And he was sad

because he had pretended to have knowledge. Now, in that palace there

was a maid named Jihva (which means Tongue), who, with the assistance

of her brother, had stolen that treasure from the interior of the

palace. She, being alarmed at Harisarman's knowledge, went at night

and applied her ear to the door of that chamber in order to find out

what he was about. And Harisarman, who was alone inside, was at that

very moment blaming his own tongue, that had made a vain assumption

of knowledge. He said: "Oh, tongue, what is this that you have done

through your greediness? Wicked one, you will soon receive punishment

in full." When Jihva heard this, she thought, in her terror, that she

had been discovered by this wise man, and she managed to get in where

he was, and, falling at his feet, she said to the supposed wizard:

"Brahman, here I am, that Jihva whom you have discovered to be the

thief of the treasure, and after I took it I buried it in the earth in

a garden behind the palace, under a pomegranate tree. So spare me, and

receive the small quantity of gold which is in my possession."

When Harisarman heard that, he said to her proudly: "Depart, I

know all this; I know the past, present, and future, but I will not

denounce you, a miserable creature that has implored my protection.

But whatever gold is in your possession you must give back to me."

When he said this to the maid, she consented, and departed quickly.

But Harisarman reflected in his astonishment: "Fate brings about, as

if in sport, things impossible; for, when calamity was so near, who

would have thought chance would have brought us success? While I was

blaming my jihva, the thief Jihva suddenly flung herself at my feet.

Secret crimes manifest themselves by means of fear." Thus thinking, he

passed the night happily in the chamber. And in the morning he brought

the King, by some skilful parade of pretended knowledge, into the

garden and led him up to the treasure, which was buried under the

pomegranate tree, and said the thief had escaped with a part of it.

Then the King was pleased, and gave him the revenue of many villages.

But the minister, named Devajnanin, whispered in the King's ear: "How

can a man possess such knowledge unattainable by men without having

studied the books of magic? You may be certain that this is a specimen

of the way he makes a dishonest livelihood, by having a secret

intelligence with thieves. It will be much better to test him by

some new artifice." Then the King of his own accord brought a covered

pitcher into which he had thrown a frog, and said to Harisarman:

"Brahman, if you can guess what there is in this pitcher, I will do

you great honor to-day." When the Brahman Harisarman heard that, he

thought that his last hour had come, and he called to mind the pet

name of "Froggie," which his father had given him in his childhood in

sport; and, impelled by luck, he called to himself by his pet name,

lamenting his hard fate, and suddenly called out: "This is a fine

pitcher for you, Froggie; it will soon become the swift destroyer of

your helpless self." The people there, when they heard him say that,

raised a shout of applause, because his speech chimed in so well with

the object presented to him, and murmured: "Ah! a great sage; he knows

even about the frog!" Then the King, thinking that this was all due to

knowledge of divination, was highly delighted, and gave Harisarman the

revenue of more villages, with gold, an umbrella, and state carriages

of all kinds. So Harisarman prospered in the world.

WHY THE FISH LAUGHED

As a certain fisherwoman passed by a palace crying her fish, the Queen

appeared at one of the windows and beckoned her to come near and

show what she had. At that moment a very big fish jumped about in the

bottom of the basket.

"Is it a he or a she?" inquired the Queen. "I wish to purchase a

she-fish."

On hearing this the fish laughed aloud.

"It's a he," replied the fisherwoman, and proceeded on her rounds.

The Queen returned to her room in a great rage; and on coming to see

her in the evening, the King noticed that something had disturbed her.

"Are you indisposed?" he said.

"No; but I am very much annoyed at the strange behavior of a fish. A

woman brought me one to-day, and on my inquiring whether it was a male

or female, the fish laughed most rudely."

Young Folks' Treasury, Volume 2 (of 12) Myths and Legendary Heroes · 第 8 / 41 段