"What misfortune is this that hath happened to thee this second
time?" So he told them the whole story of how it had come to pass. And
they, answering, said to him, "Surely now it was foolish thus to part
with the talisman; nevertheless, maybe we three may find it." And they
set out to follow the track of the travelling merchants. They were not
long before they came to a flourishing city with a shining palace in
its midst, surrounded by shady groves, and streams meandering through
them. Here the merchants had established themselves.
When night fell, the ape and the bear took up their post in a grove
near the palace, while the mouse crept within the same, till she came
to the apartment where the leader of the caravan slept--here she crept
in through the keyhole. The leader of the caravan lay asleep on a soft
couch with silken pillows. In a corner of the apartment was a heap of
rice, in which was an arrow stuck upright, to which the talisman was
bound, but two stout cats were chained to the spot to guard it. This
report the mouse brought to the ape and the bear. "If it is as thou
hast said," answered the bear, "there is nothing to be done. Let
us return to our master." "Not so!" interposed the ape. "There is
yet one means to be tried. When it is dark to-night, thou mouse,
go again to the caravan leader's apartment, and, having crept in
through the keyhole, gnaw at the man's hair. Then the next night, to
save his hair, he will have the cats chained to his pillow, when the
talisman being unguarded, thou canst go in and fetch it away." Thus
he instructed the mouse.
The next night, therefore, the mouse crept in again through the
keyhole, and gnawed at the man's hair. When the man got up in the
morning, and saw that his hair fell off by handfuls, he said within
himself, "A mouse hath done this. To-night, to save what hair remains,
the two cats must be chained to my pillow." And so it was done. When
the mouse came again, therefore, the cats being chained to the caravan
leader's pillow, she could work away at the heap of rice till the arrow
fell; then she gnawed off the string which bound the talisman to it,
and rolled it before her all the way to the door. Arrived here, she
was obliged to leave it, for by no manner of means could she get it
up to the keyhole. Full of sorrow, she came and showed this strait
to her companions. "If it is as thou hast said," answered the bear,
"there is nothing to be done. Let us return to our master."
"Not so!" interposed the ape; "there is yet one means to be tried. I
will first tie a string to the tail of the mouse, then let her go
down through the keyhole, and hold the talisman tightly with all her
four feet, and I will draw her up through the keyhole." This they did;
and thus obtained possession of the talisman.
They now set out on the return journey, the ape sitting on the back
of the bear, carrying the mouse in his ear and the talisman in his
mouth. Travelling thus, they came to a place where there was a stream
to cross. The bear, who all along had been fearing the other two
animals would tell the master how little part he had had in recovering
the talisman, now determined to vaunt his services. Stopping therefore
in the midst of the stream, he said, "Is it not my back which has
carried ye all--ape, mouse, and talisman--over all this ground? Is
not my strength great? and are not my services more than all of
yours?" But the mouse was asleep snugly in the ear of the ape, and
the ape feared to open his mouth lest he should drop the talisman;
so there was no answer given. Then the bear was angry when he found
there was no answer given, and, having growled, he said, "Since
it pleases you not, either of you, to answer, I will even cast you
both into the water." At that the ape could not forbear exclaiming,
"Oh! cast us not into the water!" And as he opened his mouth to speak,
the talisman dropped into the water. When he saw the talisman was lost,
he was full dismayed; but for fear lest the bear should drop him in
the water, he durst not reproach him till they were once more on land.
Arrived at the bank, he cried out, "Of a surety thou art a
cross-grained, ungainly sort of a beast; for in that thou madest me
to answer while I had the talisman in my mouth, it has fallen into
the water, and is more surely lost to the master than before." "If
it is even as thou hast said," answered the bear, "there is nothing
to be done. Let us return to the master." But the mouse waking up at
the noise of the strife of words, inquired what it all meant. When
therefore the ape had told her how it had fallen out, and how that they
were now without hope of recovering the talisman, the mouse replied,
"Nay, but I know one means yet. Sit you here in the distance and wait,
and let me go to work."
So they sat down and waited, and the mouse went back to the edge of
the stream. At the edge of the stream she paced up and down, crying
out as if in great fear. At the noise of her pacing and her cries,
the inhabitants of the water all came up, and asked her the cause of
her distress. "The cause of my distress," replied the mouse, "is my
care for you. Behold there is even now, at scarcely a night's distance,
an army on the march which comes to destroy you all; neither can you
escape from it, for though it marches over dry land, in a moment it
can plunge in the water and live there equally well." "If that is so,"
answered the inhabitants of the water, "then there is no help for
us." "The means of help there is," replied the mouse. "If we could
between us construct a pier along the edge of the water, on which you
could take refuge, you would be safe, for half in and half out of the
water this army lives not, and could not pursue you thither." So the
inhabitants of the water replied, "Let us construct a pier." "Hand
me up then all the biggest pebbles you can find," said the mouse,
"and I will build the pier." So the inhabitants of the water handed up
the pebbles, and the mouse built of the pebbles a pier. When the pier
was about a span long, there came a frog bringing the talisman, saying,
"Bigger than this one is there no pebble here!" So the mouse took the
talisman with great joy, and calling out, "Here it is!" brought the
same to the ape. The ape put the talisman once more in his mouth,
and the mouse in his ear; and having mounted on to the back of the
bear, they brought the talisman safely to Shrikantha (5).
Shrikantha not having had his three attendants to provide him with
fruits for so many days was as one like to die; nevertheless, when
he saw the talisman again, he revived, and said, "Truly the services
are great that I have to thank you three for." No sooner, however,
had he the talisman in his hand, than all the former magnificence came
back at a word--a more flourishing city, a more shining palace, trees
bending under the weight of luscious fruits, and birds of beautiful
plumage singing melodiously in the branches.
Then said Shrikantha again to his talisman, "If thou art really a good
and clever talisman, make that to me, who have no wife, a daughter of
the devas should come down and live with me, and be a wife to me." And,
even as he spoke, a deva maiden came down to him, surrounded with a
hundred maidens, her companions, and was his wife, and they lived a
life of delights together, and a hundred sons were born to him."
"Of a truth that was a Brahman's son whom fortune delighted to honour,"
exclaimed the Well-and-wise-walking Khan. And as he had marched fast,
and they were already far on their journey when the Siddhî-kür
began his tale, they had reached even close to the precincts of
the dwelling of the great Master and Teacher Nâgârg'una, when he
spoke these words. Nevertheless, the Siddhî-kür had time to exclaim,
"Excellent! Excellent!" and to escape swift out of sight.
But the Well-and-wise-walking Khan stood before Nâgârg'una.