Long ages ago there reigned over a flourishing province, a Khan named
Kun-snang (1). He had a son named "Sunshine" by his first wife who
afterwards died. He also had a second son named "Moonshine," by his
second wife. Now the second wife thought within herself, "If Sunshine
is allowed to live, there is no chance of Moonshine ever coming to the
throne. Some means must be found of putting Sunshine out of the way."
With this object in view she threw herself down upon her couch and
tossed to and fro as though in an agony of pain. All the night through
also instead of sleeping, she tossed about and writhed with pain. Then
the Khan spake to her, saying, "My beautiful one! what is it that
pains thee, and with what manner of ailment art thou stricken?" And
she made answer,--
"Even when I was at home I suffered oftwhiles after the same manner,
but now is it much more violent; all remedies have I exhausted previous
times, there remains only one when the pain is of this degree, and
that means is not available."
"Say not that it is not available," answered the Khan, "for all
means are available to me. Speak but what it is that is required, and
whatever it be shall be done, even to the renouncing of my kingdom. For
there is nothing that I would not give in exchange for thy life."
But for a long time she made as though she would not tell him, then
finally yielding to his repeated inquiries, she said, "If there were
given me the heart of a Prince, stewed in sesame-oil (2), I should
recover: it matters not whether the heart of Sunshine or of Moonshine,
but that Moonshine being my own son, his heart would not pass through
my throat. This means, O Khan, is manifestly not available, for how
should it be done to take the life of Prince Sunshine? Therefore say
no more, and let me die."
But the Khan answered, "Of a truth it would grieve me to take the
life of Prince Sunshine. Nevertheless, if there be no other means of
saving thy life, the thing must be done. I have not to consider 'Shall
the life of the Prince be spared or not?' but, 'Which shall be spared,
the life of the Prince, or the life of the Khanin?' And in this strait
who could doubt, but that it is the life of the Khanin that must be
spared by me? Therefore, be of good cheer, beautiful one, for that
the heart of Prince Sunshine shall be given thee cooked in sesame-oil."
This, he said, intending in his own mind to have the heart of a kid
of the goats prepared for her in sesame-oil, saying, "Behold, here
is the heart of Prince Sunshine," but to send away the Prince into a
far country that she might not know he was not dead. Only when she was
restored to health again, then he purposed to fetch back his son. But
Moonshine being in his mother's apartments overheard this promise which
the Khan had given, and he ran and told his brother all that the Khan,
his father, had said, saying, "When the Khan rises he will give the
order to put thee to death; how shall this thing be averted?" and he
wept sore, for he loved his brother Sunshine even as his own life.
Then Sunshine answered, saying, "Seeing this is so, remain thou with
our parents, loving and honouring them, and being loved by them. For
me, it is clear the time is come that I must get me away to a far
country. Farewell, my brother!"
But Moonshine answered, "Nay, brother, for if thou goest, I
also go with thee. How should I live alone here, without thee,
my brother?" Therefore they rose quickly before the Khan could
get up, and going privately to a priest in a temple hard by, that
no one else might hear of their design and betray it to the Khan,
they begged of him a good provision of baling-cakes (3), to support
life by the way; and he gave them a good provision, even a bag-full,
and they set out on their journey while it was yet night. It was the
fifteenth of the month, while the moon shed abroad her light, and they
journeyed towards the East, not knowing whither they went. But after
they had journeyed many days over mountain and plain, and come to a
land where was no water, but a muddy river the water whereof could
not be drunk, and where was no habitation of man, Moonshine fell down
fainting by the way. Sunshine therefore ran to the top of a high hill
to see if he could discern any stream of water, but found none. When
he came back Moonshine was dead! Then he fell down on the ground,
and wept a long space upon his body, and at nightfall he buried it
with solicitude under a heap of stones, crying, "Ah! my brother,
how shall I live without thee, my brother?" And he prayed that at
Moonshine's next re-birth (4) they might again live together.
Journeying farther on, he came to a pass between two steep rocks,
and in one of them was a red door. Going up to the door, he found an
ancient Hermit living in a cave within, who addressed him, saying,
"Whence art thou, O youth, who seemest oppressed with recent
grief?" And Sunshine told him all that had befallen him. Without
again speaking the Hermit put into the folds of his girdle a bottle
containing a life-restoring cordial, and going to the spot where
Moonshine lay buried, restored him to life. Then said he to the two
princes, "Live now with me, and be as my two sons." So they lived
with him, and were unto him as his two sons.
The desert where this Hermit lived belonged to the kingdom of a Khan
dazzling in his glory and resistless in might. Now it was about the
season when the Khan and his subjects went every year to direct the
flowing of water over the country for fructifying the grain-seeds;
but it was the custom every year at this season first, in order to
make the Serpent-gods (5) who lived at the water-head propitious,
to sacrifice to them a youth of a certain age; and on this occasion
it fell to the lot of a youth born in the Tiger-year (6). When the
Khan had caused search to be made through all the people no youth was
found among them all born in the Tiger-year. At last certain herdsmen
came before him, saying, "While we were out tending our cattle, behold
we saw in a cave nigh to a pass between two steep rocks a Hermit who
has with him two sons, and one of them born in the Tiger-year."
When the Khan had listened to their word he immediately sent three
envoys to fetch the Hermit's son for the sacrifice (7).
When the three envoys of the Khan had come and stood knocking before
the red door of the Hermit's cave, the Hermit cried out to them,
asking what they wanted of him. Then answered the chief of them,
"Because thou hast a son living with thee born in the Tiger-year, and
the Khan hath need of him for the sacrifice; therefore are we come,
even that we may bring him to the Khan."
When the Hermit had heard their embassage, he answered them, "How
should a Hermit have a son with him out here in the desert?" But he
took Sunshine, who was the youth born in the Tiger-year, and motioned
him into a farther hole of the cave where was a great vessel of
pottery; into this vessel he made him creep, then fastening the
mouth of the vessel with earth, he made it to appear like to a jar of
rice-brandy (8). Meantime, however, the Khan's envoys had broken down
the door, and began searching through every recess of the cave. Finding
nothing, they were filled with fury, and in their anger beat the
Hermit on whose account they had come a bootless errand. But when
Sunshine heard the men ill-treating the Hermit who had been to him
as a father, he could not refrain himself, and called out from within
the brandy-jar, "Unhand my father!" Then the envoys immediately left
off beating his father, but they turned and seized him and carried
him off to the Khan, while the Hermit was left weeping with great
grief at the loss of his adopted son, even as one like to die.
As the envoys dragged Sunshine along before the palace, the Khan's
daughter was looking out of window, and when she heard that the
handsome youth was destined for the Serpent-sacrifice, she was filled
with compassion. She went therefore to the men who had the charge to
throw him into the water, saying, "See how comely he is! He is worthy
to be saved, throw him not into the water. Or else if you will throw
him in, throw me in also with him." Then the men went and showed the
Khan her words; whereupon the king was wroth, and said, "She is not
worthy to be called the Khan's daughter; let them therefore be both
sewn up into one bullock's skin, and so cast into the water." The
men therefore did according to the Khan's bidding, and sewing them
both up in one bullock-hide together, cast them into the water to
the Serpent-gods.
Then began Sunshine to say, "That they should throw me to the
Serpent-gods, because I was the only youth to be found who was born
in the Tiger-year, was not so bad; but that this beautiful maiden,
who hath deigned to lift her eyes on me, and to love me, should be
so sacrificed also, this is unbearable!"
And the Khan's daughter in like manner cried, "That I who am only
a woman should be thrown to the Serpent-gods, is not so bad; but
that this noble and beautiful youth should be so sacrificed also,
this is unbearable!"
When the Serpent-gods heard these laments, and saw how the prince and
the maiden vied with each other in generosity, they sent and fetched
them both out of the water, and gave them freedom. Also as soon as
they were set free, they let the water gently flow over the whole
country, just as the people desired for their rice irrigation.
Meantime, Sunshine said to the Khan's daughter, "Princess, let us each
now return home. Go thou to thy father's palace, while I go back to the
Hermitage, and visit my adopted father, who is like to die of grief
for the loss of me. After I have fulfilled this filial duty, I will
return to thee, and we will live for ever after for each other alone."
The princess then praised his filial love, and bid him go console his
father, only begging him to come to her right soon, for she should
have no joy till he came back.
Sunshine went therefore to the Hermit, whom he found so worn with
grief, that he was but just in time to save him from dying; so having
first washed him with milk and water, he consoled him with many words
of kindness.
The princess, too, went home to the palace, where all were so
astonished at her deliverance that at first she could hardly obtain
admission. When they had made sure it was herself in very truth,
the people all came round her, and congratulated her with joy,
for never had any one before been delivered from the sacrifice to
the Serpent-gods.
Then said the Khan, "That the Khan's daughter should be spared by
the Serpent-gods was to be expected. They have the youth born in the
Tiger-year for their sacrifice."
But the princess answered, "Neither has he fallen sacrifice. Him also
they let free; and indeed was it in great part out of regard for his
abnegation and distress over my suffering that we were both let free."
Then answered the Khan, "In that case is our debt great unto this
youth. Let him be sought after, and besought that he come to visit
us in our palace."
So they went again to the cave in the rocky pass, and fetched Sunshine;
and when he came near, the Khan went out to meet him, and caused
costly seats to be brought, and made him sit down thereon beside him.
Then he said to him, "That thou hast delivered this country from the
fear of drought, is matter for which we owe thee our highest gratitude;
but that thou and this my daughter also have escaped from death is
a marvellous wonder. Tell me now, art thou in very truth the son of
the Hermit?"
"No," replied Sunshine, "I am the son of a mighty Khan; but my
step-mother, seeking to make a difference between me and this my
brother standing beside me, who was her own born son, and to put me
to death, we fled away both together; and thus fleeing we came to
the Hermit, and were taken in by his hospitality."
When the Khan had heard his words, he promised him his daughter
in marriage, and her sister, to be wife to Moonshine. Moreover, he
endowed them with immeasurable riches, and gave them an escort of
four detachments of fighting-men to accompany them home. When they
had arrived near the capital of the kingdom, they sent an embassage
before them to the Khan, saying,--
"We, thy two sons, Sunshine and Moonshine, are returned to thee."
The Khan and the Khanin, who had for many years past quite lost
their reason out of grief for the loss of their children, and held no
more converse with men, were at once restored to sense and animation
at this news, and sent out a large troop of horsemen to meet them,
and conduct them to their palace. Thus the two princes returned in
honour to their home.
When they came in, the Khan was full of joy and glory, sitting on his
throne; but the Khanin, full of remorse and shame at the thought of
the crime she had meditated, fell down dead before their face.
"That wretched woman got the end that she deserved!" exclaimed
the Khan.
"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened
his lips," said the Siddhî-kür. And with the cry, "To escape out of
this world is good!" he sped him through the air, swift out of sight.
Thus far of the Adventures of the Well-and-wise-walking Khan the
fifth chapter, showing how the Serpent-gods were appeased.