Gandharva, the hero's father, was himself also a mighty man of valour,
and a prince devoting himself to the well-being of his people. He not
only carried on wars against the enemies of his country, but exerted
himself to the utmost to deliver his subjects from the onslaught of
the wicked Schimnus.
One day, therefore, he went forth alone to do battle with a prince of
the Schimnus; and in order that he might be in a condition the better
adapted to match him, he left his body behind him, under shadow of
an image of Buddha. His younger wife, even the wife of low degree,
happening by chance to see him leaving the temple without his body,
was so delighted with the wonderfully beauteous appearance he
thus presented that she went to Udsessküleng-Gôa-Chatun, saying,
"Our master, so long as he went in and out among us, always was
clothed in human form like other men; but to-day, when he started
on his expedition against the Schimnus, he wore such a brilliant and
beautiful appearance that it would be a joy if he looked the same when
he is with us." But Udsessküleng-Chatun replied, "Because you are young
you understand not these things. It is only to preserve his body from
the fine piercing swords of the Schimnus that he left it behind him."
The younger wife, however, was not satisfied with the explanation,
and said within herself, "If I go and burn the body which the King
has left behind him, then must he wear his beautiful spirit-appearance
when he comes back to us."
She called together, therefore, all the other maidens, and having
kindled a great fire of sandal-wood, went back to the temple,
and fetched Gandharva's body from beneath the image of Buddha, and
burned it.
While this was going on the King appeared in his radiant form in the
heavens, and spoke thus to Udsessküleng-Gôa-Chatun, saying,--
"From my beloved subjects, for whom I have laboured so untiringly,
and from my dear wives and children and friends, and from my body
which has served me so faithfully that I cannot but love it also--I am
called to part. As my body is burnt, I cannot more visit the earth. My
only concern, however, is this, that I know within seven days the host
of the Schimnus will come down upon you, and I shall not be there to
defend you. Take, therefore, this counsel, giving which is all I can
do for you more, for I go to Nirvâna (1). Get you up then, and escape
with the young prince, even with the Bodhisattva Vikramâditja, within
these seven days, so that the Schimnus' host coming may not find you."
After these words they saw him no more, for he entered then upon
Nirvâna.
The officers and ministers and household and subjects gave themselves
to distressful grief when they knew that they should see their good
master Gandharva no more, but Udsessküleng-Chatun said, "If I give
myself over thus to grief it will not bring back my lord the Khan;
it were better that I stir myself to fulfil his all-wise counsel,
and bear his son to a place of safety." Having thus spoken, she called
all her maidens together and the child, and went to seek safety from
the Schimnus in her own country. As they journeyed, the young maiden
who had given her the counsel to visit the hermit of the kaitja, and
who had eaten what was left of the porridge made of earth boiled in
sesame oil in the porcelain vessel, she also had a child, and when
the Khanin was astonished at the thing, the maid confessed that she
had eaten of the porridge which the hermit gave her that was left
behind in the porcelain vessel, and the Khanin remembered that she
had neglected to fulfil the counsel of the hermit, saying to her,
"Eat it all up."
The other maidens now objected to the burden of having another
infant to take care of on a perilous journey, and would have put it
to death. But the Khanin said, "Nay, but shall a child that came of
the hermit's blessing be slain?" And when she found she could not
prevail with them to take it she bid them not slay it, but leave it
in shelter of a cave which there was by the way.
Then they journeyed farther amid many dangers and privations till
they came to the capital of the mighty King Kütschün-Tschidaktschi
(2) in the outskirts of which they encamped. All the people gathered,
however, on the other side of the way, struck with admiration by
the wondrous beauty of Udsessküleng-Chatun, all inquiring whence she
could be, and flocking to gain a sight of her (3).
The Khan, seeing this gathering of people from the terrace of his
palace, sent to inquire what it was, and a man of the train of the
Khanin sent answer, "It is the wife of a mighty King who is escaping
from the fear of the Schimnus, her lord having entered Nirvâna." The
King, therefore, went down, and spoke with the Khanin, and having
learnt from her that such was really the case, the younger wife
having burnt his body, and he having appeared in the sky to bid her
escape with their son from before the fury of the Schimnus, ordered
his ministers to appoint her a dwelling for her and her son, and
her train of followers, and to provide them richly with all things
befitting their rank.
All this the ministers did, and the Khanin and her son were hospitably
entertained.
Thus Vikramâditja was brought up in a strange land, but was exercised
in all kinds of arts; and increased in strength, well-favoured in
mind and body. He learned wisdom of the wise, and the use of arms
from men of valour; from the soothsayer learned he cunning arts,
and trading from sagacious traders; from robber bands learned he the
art of robbery, and from fraudulent dealers to lie.
It happened that while they were yet dwelling in this place, a caravan
of five hundred merchants came by, and encamped on the banks of a
stream near at hand.
As these men had journeyed along they had found a boy at play in a
wolf's den.
"How can a child live thus in a wolf's den?" said one of the merchants;
and with that they set themselves to lure the child to them.
"How canst thou, a child of men, live thus in common with a wolf's
cubs?" inquired they. "It were better thou camest with us."
But the child answered, "I am in truth a wolf-child, and had rather
remain with my wolf-parents."
But Galbischa, the chief of the merchants, said, "It must not be. A
child of men must be brought up with men, and not with wolves." So the
merchants took the boy with them, and gave him the name of Schalû (4).
Thus it came to pass that the child was with them, when they encamped
the night after they had taken him, in the neighbourhood of the city
where Vikramâditja and his mother lived. In the night the wolves came
near, and began to howl (5). Therefore, the merchants asked Schalû
in sport, "What are the wolves saying?"
But Schalû answered in all seriousness, "These wolves that you hear
are my parents; and they are saying to me, 'Years ago a party of
women passed by this way, and left thee with us as soon as thou wert
born; and we have nurtured thee, and made thee strong and brave;
and thou, without regard to our affection to thee, hast gone away
with strangers. Nevertheless, because we love thee, we will give thee
yet this piece of advice. To-night, there will be heavy torrents of
rain, and the river by which your caravan is encamped, will overflow
its banks. While the merchants, therefore, are engaged in hurry and
confusion seeking shelter, then break thou away from them, darling,
and come back to us. This further warning give we thee, that in the
neighbourhood prowls a robber.'"
Now it was so that Prince Vikramâditja, having seen the encampment of
the merchants, was lurking in the thicket, to exercise his prowess in
robbing them. Thus when he overheard how Schalû expounded all that
the wolves said, he thought within himself, "This is no ordinary
youth. That torrents of rain are about to fall might be a guess,
even though the sky presents no indication of a coming storm;
but how could he guess that I was prowling about to rob the
caravan? this, at least, shows he has command of some sort of
supernatural knowledge." Determining therefore to discover some
means of possessing himself of the boy, he went away for that night,
because the merchants having been warned by the wolves of his designs,
they would be on the watch to take him had he attempted an attack.
The merchants, meantime, believing the words of the wolves expounded to
them by Schalû, removed their encampment to a high hill, out of the way
of chances of damage by inundation. When night had fallen thick around,
the rain began to fall in heavy torrents, and the river overflowed its
banks, making particular havock of the very spot on which their tent
had been pitched. When the merchants in the morning saw this part of
the plain all under water, and the floods pouring over it, they said
one to another, "Without Schalû's aid we had certainly all been washed
away (6)," and out of gratitude they loaded him with rich presents.
At the end of the next day's journey they selected the dry bank
of a small tributary of the river for their camping-place. Prince
Vikramâditja, who, in pursuance of his determination of overnight,
had watched their movements from afar, drew near, under cover of
the shades of evening, and set himself once more to overhear what
Schalû might have to say. By-and-by two wolves approached, and began
howling. Then the merchants asked Schalû, saying, "What do the wolves
say?" And Schalû answered, "These are the wolves who have been to me
from my birth up in the place of parents, and they say, 'Behold, we
have watched over thee ever since thou wast born, and made thee brave
and strong, nevertheless, unmindful of our aid, thou hast forsaken us,
and betaken thyself to men, who are our enemies. This is the last
time that we can come after thee (7); but of our affection we give
thee this counsel: sleep not this night, for there is a robber again
lurking about the camp. Early in the morning also, if thou goest out
to the banks of the stream, thou shalt find a dead body brought down
by the waters; fish it out, and cut it open, for in the right thigh
is enclosed the jewel Tschin-tâmani (8), and whoso is in possession
of this talisman, has only to desire it, and he will become a mighty
King, ruler of the four parts of the earth.'"
When Vikramâditja had heard these words, he gave up his marauding
intention for that night also, his victims having been set upon
their guard. But he was satisfied with the prospect of having the
talisman for his booty. Going higher up the stream, therefore,
he fished out the dead body as it floated down before it came to
the merchants' encampment, opened the thigh, and took out the jewel,
and then committed it to the waters again, so that when the merchants
and Schalû took it, they found the treasure was gone. But he thought
within himself the while, "This Schalû is no common boy; some pretext
I must find to possess myself of him before the caravan leaves the
neighbourhood."
The next morning, therefore, before they struck their tents, he came
to them in the disguise of a travelling merchant, he also bringing
with him stuffs and other objects of barter, on which he had set
a private mark. While pretending to trade, he contrived to pick a
quarrel, as also to leave some of his wares unperceived hidden in
one of the tents. Then he went to King Kütschün-Tschidaktschi, and
laid this complaint before him:--
"Behold, O King, I was engaged in trading with a company of five
hundred merchants who are encamped outside this city, but a dispute
arising, they fell upon me, and used me contumeliously, and drove me
forth from among them, and, what is worst of all, they have retained
among them the half of my stuffs."
In answer to this complaint, the King sent two officers of the
court, and an escort of two hundred fighting-men, with instructions
to investigate the matter, and if they found that the five hundred
merchants had really stolen the stuffs, to put them all to the edge
of the sword; but if they found this was not the case, then to bring
Vikramâditja to him for judgment.
Then Vikramâditja once more prostrated himself before the King, and
said, "Upon all my things have I set a mark (so and so), whereby they
may be recognized, so that clearly may it be established whether they
have my stuffs in possession or not."
When the King's envoys came to the encampment of the five hundred
merchants, they arraigned them, saying--
"Young Vikramâditja lays this complaint against ye before the King,
namely, that you have used him shamefully, driving him away from you
contumeliously, and laying violent hands on his stuffs, wherewith
he sought to trade with you. Know therefore that the command of
our all-powerful King is, that if the stuffs of Vikramâditja are
found in your tents, you be all put to the edge of the sword." And
the merchants answered cheerfully, "Come in and search our tents,
for we have no man's goods with us, saving only our own."
Then the King's envoys searched through all the tents, no man hindering
them, so persuaded were the good merchants that none of their company
had defrauded any man. As they searched, behold, they found hidden in
one of the tents, where Vikramâditja had concealed them, the stuffs
bearing his marks, so and so, even as he had testified before the King.
When the merchants saw this they cried, saying, "Surely some evil
demon hath done this thing, for in our company is none who ever took
any man's goods;" and they all began to weep with one accord.
The King's envoys, however, said, "Weeping will bring you no help;
we must do according to the words of our all-powerful king." And they
called on the two hundred fighting-men to put the whole company of
merchants to the edge of the sword.
When the commotion was at the highest--the merchants entreating mercy
and protesting their innocence, and the envoys declaring the urgency of
the King's decree, and the fighting-men sharpening their swords--there
stood forward young Vikramâditja, and spoke, saying, "Nay, let not
so many men be put to death. Leave them their lives if they give me
in exchange the boy Schalû, whom they have in their company."
Then the merchants said to Schalû, "Already hast thou once saved
our lives; go now with this man, and save them for us even this
second time."
And Schalû made answer, "To have saved the lives of five hundred
men twice over, shall it not bring me good fortune?" So he went with
Vikramâditja, and the merchants loaded him with rich merchandize out
of gratitude, for his reward.
When Vikramâditja came home, bringing the boy with him, his mother
inquired of him, saying, "Vikramâditja, beloved son, where hast thou
been, and whence hast thou the child which thou hast brought?"
And Vikramâditja answered, "Beloved mother, when thou wast on thy way
hither fleeing from before the face of the Schimnus, did not one of
thy maidens leave a new-born infant in a wolves' den?"
And his mother answered, "Even so did one of my maidens, and the
child would now be about this age." So they took Schalû to them,
and he was unto Udsessküleng-Chatun as a son, but unto Vikramâditja
as a brother; and he went with him whithersoever he went.
One day Vikramâditja came to his mother, and said to her, "Beloved
mother! Live on here in tranquillity, while I, in company with Schalû,
will go to the capital where my father, the immortal Gandharva,
reigned, and see what is the fate of our people, and how I may recover
the inheritance."
But Udsessküleng-Chatun made answer, "Vikramâditja, beloved son! Is
not the way long, and beset with evil men, who are so many and so
bold? How then wilt thou ever arrive, or escape their wiles?"
Vikramâditja said to her, "How great soever the distance may be, by
hard walking I will set it behind me; and how many soever the enemy
may be, I shall overcome them, defying the violent with strength,
and the crafty with craftiness."
Thus he and Schalû set out to go to the immortal Gandharva's
capital. Inquiring by the way what fate had befallen the kingdom, he
found that Gandharva had no sooner entered Nirvâna, than his neighbour
King Galischa, had made the design to obtain possession of his throne;
but that the Schimnus' host had been beforehand with him, and had
already commenced to take possession. They made a compact, however,
by which the government was left to King Galischa, on condition of
his sending to the Schimnus in Gandharva's palace, a tribute of a
hundred men daily with a nobleman at their head.
Then Vikramâditja was grieved when he learned that it was thus the
usurping prince dealt with his subjects, and he proceeded farther
on his way. When he had come nigh the capital, he heard sounds of
wailing, proceeding from a hut on the outskirts; going in to discover
the cause, Vikramâditja found lying, with her face upon the floor,
a woman all disconsolate, and weeping piteously.
"Mother! What is thy grief wherewith thou art so terribly
oppressed?" inquired Vikramâditja of her.
"Ah!" replied the woman, "there is no cure for my grief. This King
Galischa, who has seized the kingdom of the immortal Gandharva, has
entered into a compact with the Schimnus to pay them a tribute of a
hundred men every day with a nobleman at their head. I had two sons,
one of them is gone I know not whither, and now to-day they have come
and taken the other to send in the tribute to the Schimnus, nor can I
by any means resist the will of the King. That is why I wail, and that
is why I am inconsolable." And she went on with her loud lament (9).
But Vikramâditja bid her arise and be of good cheer, saying, "I will
bring back thy son to thee alive this day, for I will go forth to
the Schimnus in his stead."
Then the woman said, "Nay, neither must this be. Thou art brave with
the valour of youth, even as a young horse snorting to get him away to
the battle. But when thou art devoured by the Schimnus, then shall thy
mother grieve even as I; and belike she is young and has many years
before her, whereas my life is well-nigh spent, and what matter if
I go down to the grave in sorrow? Who am I that I should bring grief
to the mother of thee, noble youth!"
But Vikramâditja said, "Leave that to me, and if I send not back
to thee thine own son as I have promised, then will I send back to
thee this youth, Schalû, who is my younger brother, and he shall be
thy son."
When he drew near the dwelling of King Galischa, the King was just
marshalling one hundred subjects, with a nobleman at their head, who
were to be sent that day to the Schimnus in tribute in Gandharva's
palace. But the King, espying him, inquired who and whence he was.
Then Vikramâditja answered him, "I am Vikramâditja, son of
Gandharva. When he died, my mother carried me, being an infant of
days, far away for fear of the Schimnus. But now that I have grown
to man's estate, I am come together with my younger brother to see
after the state of my father's kingdom."
Galischa then said, "It is well for thee that Heaven preserved
thee from coming before, otherwise thou mightest have had all the
travail which has fallen upon me; nevertheless, as I came first, I
am in possession. But I have every day in sorrow and agony to send
a tribute of one hundred subjects, with a nobleman at their head,
to be devoured by the Schimnus."
"This have I learnt," replied Vikramâditja, "and it is even on that
account that I am here. For have I not seen the grief of a mother
mourning over her son, and it is to take his place, and to go in his
stead, that I came hither to thee."
And Galischa said, "How canst thou, youth that thou art, defy all
the might of the Schimnus, doubt not now but that they will devour
thee before thou art aware."
"Then," replied the magnanimous prince, "if I do not prevail against
the Schimnus, this I shall gain, that because I have given my life
for another, I shall in my next birth rise to a higher place (10)
than at present."
"If that is thy mind," replied the King, "then do even as thou
hast said."
So Vikramâditja went out with the tribute of blood, and sent back
the youth whom he had come to replace, to his mother.
When the King saw him go forth with firm step, and as it were dancing
with joy over his undertaking, he said, "There is one case in which he
might turn out to be our deliverer; but if that case does not befall,
then will he but have come to swell the number of victims of the
Schimnus. Let us, however, all wait here together through the day,
to see what may befall."
Vikramâditja and his companions meantime arrived at Gandharva's
palace; and Vikramâditja, as if he had known the place all his life,
went straight up to the throne-room, where was the great and dazzling
Sinhâsana (11). Ascending it, therefore, he sat himself in it, and,
while his tears flowed down, he cried, "Oh for the days of my father,
the immortal Gandharva; for he reigned gloriously! But since he
hath entered Nirvâna we have had nothing but weariness. What would
my father have said had he seen his subjects made by hundreds at a
time food for the Schimnus? Schimnus, beware! lest I destroy your
whole race from off the face of the earth."
Thus spoke Vikramâditja, till, inspired by his royal courage, he had
sent all the hundred victims of this tribute back to their homes,
defying the anger of the Schimnus. But to the King he sent word,
"The Schimnus of whom thou standest in mortal dread will I curb
and tame. Meantime, let there be four hundred vessels of brandy
prepared." And the King did as he said, and sent and put out four
hundred vessels filled with strong brandy in the way.
When, therefore, the Schimnus came that they might devour their
victims as usual, they first came upon the four hundred vessels of
brandy, and seeing them, they set upon them greedily, and drank up
their contents. Overcome by the strong spirit, they lay about on the
ground half-senseless, and Vikramâditja came upon them and slew them,
and hewed them in pieces.
He had hardly despatched the last of them when their Schimnu-king,
informed of what had been done, came down in wrath and fury,
flourishing his drawn sword. But Vikramâditja said to him, "Halt! King
of the Schimnus; taste first of my brandy, and if it overcome thee,
then shalt thou be my slave; but if not, then will I serve thee. Then
the King of the Schimnus drank up all the brandy, and, overpowered
by the strong spirit, fell down senseless on the earth.
As he was about to slay him like the others, Vikramâditja thought
within himself, "After all, it will bring greater fame to overcome
him in fair fight than to slay him by stratagem." So he sat down
and waited till he came to himself; then he defied him to combat;
and when he stood up to fight, he raised his sword and cut him in two.
Then see! of the two halves there arose two men; and when he cut
each of these in two, there were four men; and when he cut these in
two, there were eight men, who all rushed upon him. Then the Prince
transformed himself into eight lions, which roared terribly, and tore
the eight men in pieces, and destroyed them utterly.
While this terrible combat was going on, there were frightful
convulsions of nature (12): mountains fell in, and in the place where
they had stood were level plains; and plains were raised up, and
appeared as mountains, water gushed out of them and overran the land,
and all the subjects of Gandharva fell senseless on the earth. But
when Vikramâditja had made an end of the Schimnus, and resumed his
own form again, he made a great offering of incense, and the earth
resumed her stability; the people were called back to life, and all
was gladness and thanksgiving. All the people, and King Galischa
at their head, acknowledged Vikramâditja as their lawful sovereign,
and he ascended the throne of his father Gandharva. Then he sent for
the Queen-mother, and made the joy of all his people.
When the Sûta had made an end of the narrative of Vikramâditja's youth,
he addressed himself to Ardschi-Bordschi, saying,--
"If thou canst boast of being such a King as Vikramâditja, then come
and ascend this throne; but if not, then beware, at thy peril, that
thou approach it not."
Ardschi-Bordschi then drew near once more to ascend the throne,
but two other of the sculptured figures, forsaking their guardant
attitude, came forward and warned him back.
Then another Sûta addressed him, saying, "Halt! O Ardschi-Bordschi! As
yet thou hast only heard concerning the birth and the youth of
Vikramâditja; now hearken, and I will tell thee some of his mighty
deeds."