Long ages ago, there lived in a city of Northern India a father and
son. Both bore the same name, and a strangely inappropriate name it
was. Though they were the poorest of men without any thing in the
world to call their own, and without even possessing the knowledge
of any trade or handicraft whereby to make a livelihood to support
them at ease, they were yet called by the name of Shanggasba, that is
"Renowned possessor of treasure (1)."
As I have already said, they knew no trade or handicraft; but to
earn a scanty means of subsistence to keep body and soul together,
they used to lead a wandering sort of life, gathering and hawking wood.
One day as they were coming down the steep side of a mountain forest,
worn and footsore, bending under the heavy burden of wood on their
backs, Shanggasba, the father, suddenly hastened his tired, tottering
steps, and, leading the way through the thickly-meeting branches to
a little clear space of level ground, where the grass grew green and
bright, called to his son to come after him with more of animation
in his voice than he had shown for many a weary day.
Shanggasba, the son, curious enough to know what stirred his father's
mind, and glad indeed at the least indication of any glimpse of a new
interest in life, increased his pace too, and soon both were sitting
on the green grass with their bundles of wood laid beside them.
"Listen, my son!" said Shanggasba, the father, "to what I have here
to impart to thee, and forget not my instructions."
"Just as this spot of sward, on which we are now seated, is bared of
the rich growth of trees covering the thicket all around it, so are my
fortunes now barren compared with the opulence and power our ancestor
Shanggasba, 'Renowned possessor of treasure,' enjoyed. Know, moreover,
that it was just on this very spot that he lived in the midst of his
power and glory. Therefore now that our wanderings have brought us
hither, I lay this charge upon thee that when I die thou bring hither
my bones, and lay them under the ground in this place. And so doing,
thou too shalt enjoy fulness of might and magnificence like to the
portion of a king's son. For it was because my father's bones were
laid to rest in a poor, mean, and shameful place, that I have been
brought to this state of destitution in which we now exist. But thou,
if thou keep this my word, doubt not but that thou also shalt become
a renowned possessor of treasure."
Thus spoke Shanggasba, the father; and then, lifting their faggots
on to their shoulder, they journeyed on again as before.
Not long after the day that they had held this discourse, Shanggasba,
the father, was taken grievously ill, so that the son had to go out
alone to gather wood, and it so befell that when he returned home again
the father was already dead. So remembering his father's admonition,
he laded his bones upon his back, and carried them out to burial in
the cleared spot in the forest, as his father had said.
But when he looked that the great wealth and honour of which his
father had spoken should have fallen to his lot, he was disappointed
to find that he remained as poor as before. Then, because he was
weary of the life of a woodman, he went into the city, and bought a
hand-loom and yarn, and set himself to weave linen cloths which he
hawked about from place to place.
Now, one day, as he was journeying back from a town where he had been
selling his cloths, his way brought him through the forest where
his father lay buried. So he tarried a while at the place and sat
down to his weaving, and as he sat a lark came and perched on the
loom. With his weaving-stick he gave the lark a blow and killed it,
and then roasted and ate it.
But as he ate it he mused, "Of a certainty the words of my father have
failed, which he spoke, saying, 'If thou bury my bones in this place
thou shalt enjoy fulness of might and magnificence.' And because this
weaving brings me a more miserable profit even than hawking wood,
I will arise now and go and sue for the hand of the daughter of the
King of India, and become his son-in-law."
Having taken this resolution, he burnt his hand-loom, and set out on
his journey.
Now it so happened that just at this time the Princess, daughter of the
King of India, having been absent for a long time from the capital,
great festivities of thanksgiving were being celebrated in gratitude
for her return in safety, as Shanggasba arrived there; and notably,
on a high hill, before the image of a Garuda-bird (2), the king of
birds, Vishnu's bearer, all decked with choice silk rich in colour.
Shanggasba arrived, fainting from hunger, for the journey had been
long, and he had nothing to eat by the way, having no money to buy
food, but now he saw things were beginning to go well with him, for
when he saw the festival he knew there would be an offering of baling
cakes of rice-flour before the garuda-bird, and he already saw them
in imagination surrounded with the yellow flames of the sacrifice.
As soon as he approached the place therefore he climbed up the
high hill, and satisfied his hunger with the baling; and then, as a
provision for the future, he took down the costly silk stuffs with
which the garuda-bird was adorned and hid them in his boots.
His hunger thus appeased, he made his way to the King's palace,
where he called out lustily to the porter in a tone of authority,
"Open the gate for me!"
But the porter, when he saw what manner of man it was summoned him,
would pay no heed to his words, but rather chid him and bid him
be silent.
Then Shanggasba, when he found the porter would pay no heed to his
words, but rather bid him be silent, blew a note on the great princely
trumpet, which was only sounded for promulgating the King's decrees.
This the King heard, who immediately sent for the porter, and inquired
of him who had dared to sound the great princely trumpet. To whom
the porter made answer,--
"Behold now, O King, there stands without at the gate a vagabond
calling on me to admit him because he has a communication to make to
the King."
"The fellow is bold; let him be brought in," replied the King. So
they brought Shanggasba before the King's majesty.
"What seekest thou of me?" inquired the King. And Shanggasba, nothing
abashed, answered plainly--
"To sue for the hand of the Princess am I come, and to be the King's
son-in-law."
The ministers of state, who stood round about the King, when they
heard these words, were filled with indignation, and counselled the
King that he should put him to death. But the King, tickled in his
fancy with the man's daring, answered,--
"Nay, let us not put him to death. He can do us no harm. A beggar may
sue for a king's daughter, and a king may choose a beggar's daughter,
out of that no harm can come," and he ordered that he should be taken
care of in the palace, and not let to go forth.
Now all this was told to the Queen, who took a very different view of
the thing from the King's. And coming to him in fury and indignation,
she cried out,--
"It is not good for such a man to live. He must be already deprived
of his senses; let him die the death!"
But the King gave for all answer, "The thing is not of that import
that he should die for it."
The Princess also heard of it; and she too came to complain to the
King that he should cause such a man to be kept in the palace; but
before she could open her complaint, the King, joking, said to her,--
"Such and such a man is come to sue for thy hand; and I am about to
give thee to him."
But she answered, "This shall never be; surely the King hath spoken
this thing in jest. Shall a princess now marry a beggar?"
"If thou wilt not have him, what manner of man wouldst thou
marry?" asked the King.
"A man who has gold and precious things enough that he should carry
silk stuff (3) in his boots, such a one would I marry, and not a
wayfarer and a beggar," answered the Princess.
When the people heard that, they went and pulled off Shanggasba's
boots, and when they found in them the pieces of silk he had taken
from the image of the garuda-bird, they all marvelled, and said never
a word more.
But the King thought thereupon, and said, "This one is not after the
manner of common men." And he gave orders that he should be lodged
in the palace.
The Queen, however, was more and more dismayed when she saw the token,
and thus she reasoned, "If the man is here entertained after this
manner, and if he has means thus to gain over to him the mind of the
King, who shall say but that he may yet contrive to carry his point,
and to marry my daughter?" And as she found she prevailed nothing
with the King by argument, she said, "I must devise some means of
subtlety to be rid of him." Then she had the man called into her,
and inquired of him thus,--
"Upon what terms comest thou hither to sue for the hand of my
daughter? Tell me, now, hast thou great treasures to endow her with as
thy name would import, or wilt thou win thy right to pay court to her
by thy valour and bravery?" And this she said, for she thought within
herself, of a surety now the man is so poor he can offer no dowry,
and so he needs must elect to win her by the might of his bravery,
which if he do I shall know how to over-match his strength, and show
he is but a mean-spirited wretch.
But Shanggasba made answer, "Of a truth, though I be called 'Renowned
possessor of treasure,' no treasure have I to endow her with; but
let some task be appointed me by the King and Queen, and I will win
her hand by my valour."
The Queen was glad when she heard this answer, for she said,
"Now I have in my hands the means to be rid of him." At this time,
while they were yet speaking, it happened that a Prince of the
Unbelievers advanced to the borders of the kingdom to make war upon
the King. Therefore the Queen said to Shanggasba,--
"Behold thine affair! Go out now against the enemy, and if thou canst
drive back his hordes thou shalt marry our daughter, and become the
King's son-in-law.
"Even so let it be!" answered Shanggasba. "Only let there be given
to me a good horse and armour, and a bow and arrows."
All this the Queen gave him, and good wine to boot, and appointed
an army in brave array to serve under him. With these he rode out to
encounter the enemy.
They had hardly got out of sight of the city, however, when the
captain of the army rode up to him and said, "We are not soldiers to
fight under command of a beggar: ride thou forth alone."
So they went their way, and he rode on alone. He had no sooner come
to the borders of the forest, however, where the ground was rough and
uneven, than he found he could in no wise govern his charger, and after
pulling at the reins for a long time in vain, the beast dashed with him
furiously into the thicket. "What can I do now?" mourned Shanggasba to
himself as, encumbered by the unwonted weight of his armour, he made
fruitless efforts to extricate himself from the interlacing branches;
"surely death hath overtaken me!" And even as he spoke the enemy's
army appeared riding down towards him. Nevertheless, catching hold
of the overhanging bows of a tree, by which to save himself from the
plungings of the horse, and as the soil was loose and the movement of
the steed impetuous, as he clung to the tree the roots were set free
by his struggles, and rebounding in the face of the advancing enemy,
laid many of his riders low in the dust.
The prince who commanded them when he saw this, exclaimed, "This one
cannot be after the manner of common men. Is he not rather one of the
heroes making trial of his prowess who has assumed this outward form?"
And a great panic seized them all, so that they turned and fled from
before him, riding each other down in the confusion, and casting away
their weapons and their armour.
As soon as they were well out of sight, and only the clouds of dust
whirling round behind them, Shanggasba rose from the ground where he
had fallen in his fear, and catching by the bridle one of the horses
whose rider had been thrown, laded on to him all that he could carry
of the spoil with which the way was strewn, and brought it up to the
King as the proof and trophy of his victory.
The King was well pleased to have so valiant a son-in-law,
and commended him and promised him the hand of the Princess in
marriage. But the Queen, though her first scheme for delivering her
daughter had failed, was not slow to devise another, and she said,
"It is not enough that he should be valiant in the field, but a
mighty hunter must he also be." And thus she said to Shanggasba,
"Wilt thou also give proof of thy might in hunting?"