resting under a banyan tree by a pool of water, so they agreed to
make these their judges; then the prince explained to one of the
cows and the banyan tree and the water what they were to decide,
whether it was fair for the snake, whose life he had saved, now to
want to kill him. The banyan tree was the first to answer: it said
"You did good to the snake and your wages for doing good are evil;
you saved his life and he will now kill you, this is fair, this is
the justice we have learnt from human beings; you enjoy the shade of
us trees and in return you lop off our branches and sit on them, and
do us all manner of injury; it is right that the snake should eat you."
Then the prince turned to the cow: "He may eat you," answered the
cow: "the tree is right, see how men treat cattle; you drive away our
calves from us and take our milk and you beat us and make us work hard;
for all this ill treatment the snake shall eat you."
Then the prince asked the water what it had to say: "I agree with the
other two" said the water: "to return evil for good is the justice of
mankind, it is by drinking water that your very lives are preserved;
yet you spit into it and wash dirty things in it; shall not the snake
return you evil for good?" So judgment was delivered, and the snake
wanted to eat the prince; but the prince asked the tree and the cow
and the water to listen while he made one prayer; he told them how
he had been married when he was too young to know anything about it,
and how he was going for the first time to see his wife, when this
misfortune befell him; so he begged that he might be allowed to go and
see his bride and then be eaten on his way back; the banyan tree asked
what the snake thought about this proposal and the snake said that it
would make no objection if the tree and the cow and the water would be
sureties for the return of the prince within three days. So the prince
promised them faithfully that he would return and they let him go.
The prince rode on to his father-in-law's house, and when he arrived,
a bed was brought out for him to sit on and he was asked where he
came from. When he explained who he was, they at once brought water
and washed his feet and then gave him oil and a tooth stick and took
him to bathe; then they brought him curds and dried rice to eat and
afterwards killed a goat and made a feast and showed him every honour.
That evening as his wife was rubbing his arms and legs, the
prince remained silent and downcast and showed none of the joy of
a bridegroom; and when his bride asked what was the matter, he told
her that he had only come to see her for one day and that afterwards
she must try and forget all about him. At first he would not tell
her more, but when she urged him, he told her how he had to go and
surrender himself to the snake on the next day. When she heard this
she vowed that she would go with him and die with him.
The next morning came and the prince said that he must return, and
his wife said that she was going with him; so they made everything
ready and set out on their way. When they came within sight of the
banyan tree where the prince was to be killed, he tried to turn his
wife back but though he used force she refused to leave him and said
that she would first see him killed and then go home; so at last he
let her accompany him.
When they reached the tree she asked to be allowed to go in front and
be the first to meet the snake; to this the prince assented. They
had not gone far when they saw the snake awaiting them in the path
with its crest raised, and when they drew near, the prince's bride
begged the snake to eat her first, as she had nowhere to live if she
survived her husband. The snake refused and bade her go home to her
parents; she said that that was impossible; they had sold her and the
prince had bought her, in life and in death, bones and ashes. But
the snake would not listen and made for the prince to eat him. His
wife however kept in front of the snake and would not let it pass;
she called the banyan tree to witness that the snake should not eat
her husband without first killing her; without her husband she would
have no one to support her.
Then the snake promised to teach her an incantation by means of which
she could support herself, so saying, the snake conferred some magic
power upon and taught her an incantation; and promised her that if she
took some dust in her hand and repeated the incantation and then blew
on the dust, any person on whom she sprinkled the dust would at once
be burnt to ashes. Then the prince's wife asked how she should restore
the people to life and the snake taught her that also, but she was not
satisfied and said that she must try at once to see whether the snake
was deceiving her or no; so the snake bade her experiment on a _tarop_
tree which grew near. Thereupon she gathered up some dust and repeated
the incantation and blew on it and suddenly threw it over the snake,
which at once turned to ashes, and that was the end of the snake.
Then the prince and his wife went on their way rejoicing, and he was
filled with wonder at the way in which his bride had saved him by
persisting in going with him.
XLV. The Tiger's Bride.
One day a woman went to cut thatching grass and she cut such a quantity
that when she tied it up, the bundle was too big for her to lift on
to her head; so she stood and called for some one to help her, but
no one was within hearing and no one came. She called and called and
at last began to promise that she would give her daughter in marriage
to any one who would help her.
After she had called out this a few times, a tiger suddenly appeared
and asked what she wanted; she explained her difficulty and the tiger
undertook to lift the load on to her head, if she would really give
him her daughter in marriage. She promised and with the help of the
tiger took up the bundle and went home.
Two or three days after, the tiger presented himself at her house and
was duly married to the daughter. After the wedding the couple started
for the tiger's home; all the way the unhappy bride wept and sang:--
"How far off is our home, big head?"
"You can just see the mouth of the cave" answered the tiger and in a
short time they came to a large cave. Then the tiger told her to set
to work and cook a feast while he went off and invited his friends
to come and share it. But the bride when left alone caught a cat and
killed it and hung it over the fire, so that its blood dropped slowly
into the pan and made a fizzling noise, as if cooking were going on;
and then she ran off to her mother's house and climbed a tree which
grew near it and began to sing:--
"You married me to a ti-ti-tiger:
You threw me to a bear:
Take back the necklace you gave me
Take back the bracelet and the diamonds and the coral."
Meanwhile the tiger returned with his friends and sat down outside the
cave and told his wife to be quick with the cooking of the cakes for he
heard the hissing over the fire and thought that she was cooking. At
last as she did not come out, he got tired of waiting and went in to
fetch her: then he saw that she had disappeared and had to go and tell
his friends. They were very angry at being cheated out of a feast,
and fell upon the tiger and beat him, till he ran away and was seen
no more: but his bride was left to flit from tree to tree singing:--
"You married me to a ti-ti-tiger:
You threw me to a bear:
Take back the necklace you gave me
Take back the bracelet and the diamonds and the coral."
XLVI. The Killing of the Tiger.
They say that there was a time when all living things had a common
speech and animals and men could understand each other, and in those
days there was a man-eating tiger which infested a jungle through
which a highroad ran; it preyed on people passing along the road
till no one ventured to travel, and as the country was so unsafe, the
people went in a body to the Raja and told him of the ravages of the
tiger and asked him to send a force of soldiers to hunt and shoot it.
So the Raja called together all his soldiers and promised to give half
his kingdom to any one of them who would kill the tiger, but not one
of them was brave enough to make the attempt; they said that their
business was to fight men and not tigers and leopards; then the Raja
extended his offer to all his subjects and the petitioners went home
to consult about it; and the news was published that the Raja would
give half his kingdom to the slayer of the tiger.
Now there was a poor man who was a very brave shikari of big game,
and cunning into the bargain, and he offered to go and kill the
tiger. They questioned him carefully, and when they saw that he was in
earnest they took him to the Raja to hear from the Raja's lips what
his reward should be; and the Raja promised him half his kingdom,
and wrote a bond to that effect, for he thought that the tiger would
surely kill the man. Then the shikari said that he would start the
next morning and return the next day either with the dead tiger or
with bits of its ears and claws to show that he had killed it. The
Raja told the people to watch carefully and see that the shikari did
not cheat by taking the claws and ears of a tiger with him.
The next morning the shikari started off and all he took with him was
a looking-glass and three pictures of a tiger drawn on three pieces
of paper and a hatchet; he went to the road which the tiger frequented
and climbed a banyan tree and spent the night in it. The tiger did not
pass by at all that night but in the morning it appeared and called
out "Who is up in the tree?" The shikari said "It is I." "Come down
quickly," said the tiger, "I have been looking for you." "Wait a
minute," answered the shikari, "I have been looking for you also."
"What for?" said the tiger: "Tell me first why you are looking for me,"
said the man: "To eat you," answered the tiger; then the man said,
"Well I have been hunting for you to catch you and take you away. I
have caught three or four like you and if you don't believe me, let me
get down and I will show you". The tiger got into a fright and said:
"Come down and show me." So the shikari climbed down and uncovered
his looking glass and told the tiger to look and he reflected in the
glass the pictures of the tigers which he had brought and said, "Now
I am going to catch you and put you in here also." The tiger asked
why he was to be caught and the shikari said that it was because he
had made the road unsafe by killing travellers; then the tiger begged
and prayed to be let off and promised that he would never kill any
travellers again. At last the shikari said that he would let him go,
if he would allow him to cut off his claws and the tips of his ears
and the tip of his tongue as a pledge of his good faith. The tiger
said, "Well, you may cut off one claw from each foot and the very
tip of my ears and tongue." So the shikari cut them off with his
hatchet and, after again warning the tiger, went back home; and then
presented himself with all his friends before the Raja and the Raja
gave him the promised reward, But the tiger's tongue festered and,
after roaring with pain for a whole day, it died.
XLVII. The Dream.
One night as a man and his wife lay talking in bed, the woman told
her husband that she had dreamt that in a certain place she had dug
up a pot full of rupees, and she proposed that they should go and
look for it and see whether the dream was true. While they talked, it
chanced that some thieves, who had climbed on to the roof, overheard
the conversation and at once decided to forestall the others. So they
went off to the place which the woman had described and began to dig,
and after digging a little they were delighted to come on a pot with
a lid on. But when they took off the lid an enormous snake raised
its head and hissed at them. At this the thieves cursed the woman
who had misled them and agreed to take the snake and drop it through
the roof on to the man and his wife as they lay in bed. So they shut
the snake up again and carried it off to the house and, making a hole
in the thatch, dropped it through. But as it fell the snake changed
into a stream of money, which came rattling down on the couple below;
the thieves found a snake, but it was not a real snake, it was Thakur;
and it was his will to give the money to the man and his wife. When
these two had recovered from their astonishment, they gathered up
the money, and lived in wealth ever afterwards.
XLVIII. The King of the Bhuyans.
There was once a king of the Bhuyans and near his palace was a village
of Santals; he was a kind ruler and both Santals and Bhuyans were very
happy under his sway. But when he died, he was succeeded by his son,
who was a very severe master and soon fell out with the Santals. If
he found any cattle or buffaloes grazing anywhere near his crops,
he had the cowherds beaten severely: so that no one dared to take
the cattle in that direction.
The Santals were very angry at this and longed to get even with the
Raja; they planned to turn the cattle into the Raja's crops at night
when no one could see them or catch them, but in the end their courage
failed them.
One year after the rice had been cut, but before the millet crop was
gathered, the youths and maidens of the Santal village had a dance
and danced all night till nearly morning; then they agreed that it
was not worth while to go to bed and they had better take the cattle
out to graze at once.
After grazing their fill, the cattle all collected at the midday
resting place and the cowherds were so sleepy after their night's
dancing, that they fell fast asleep on the bare ground. After a time
the buffaloes began to move again and seeing a nice field of millet
belonging to the Raja soon made their way to it and grazed the whole
field down. The Raja happened to pass that way and was filled with
wrath at the sight; he at once ordered his _sipahis_ to go and beat
the cowherds within an inch of their lives and so the _sipahis_
ran to the place with sticks. Their approach roused the sleeping
cowherds who jumped up and ran off home as hard as they could;
all but the servant of the village _paramanik_ (assistant headman)
he did not run away but went to drive the cattle out of the field;
he knew that this was his duty to his master and he was resolved to
do his duty even at the cost of his life.
As all the other boys had got away the sipahis turned their attention
to him, but as they aimed blows at him with the sticks, he caught the
blows on his arms and the sticks shivered to atoms without harming him;
so then they went to kick him but a great _cibei_ snake came rustling
up behind them; so they saw it was no use to contend with him and
desisted: whereupon he drove all the village cattle home in triumph.
The sipahis reported to the Raja how the cowherds had all made good
their escape, and how the paramanik's herd boy had driven off the
cattle. Then the Raja told them to go that afternoon at the time
the cattle were brought home for the night and wait at the end of
the village street and then give the cowherds the thrashing they
deserved; The sipahis did as they were ordered and that evening waited
for the returning herd boys; and caught them as they came home and
thrashed them within an inch of their lives. The others were all
left senseless on the ground: but the sipahis did not dare to lay
hands on the paramanik's herd boy, he drove the cattle back into the
village, and told the villagers what had been done to their sons. So
the villagers went out with beds and carried the wounded boys home;
then they assembled and resolved to go and punish the Raja, so they
went to him and asked what he meant by killing their children. "Dear
me," said the Raja, "are they really dead?" "Well, if not not quite
dead, they are very ill," was the answer. "I am sorry," said the Raja:
"I admit that I have done wrong, but if you will forgive me this time,
I will undertake to cure them in a minute and make them as well as
ever; go and fetch them here."
So the Santals went off to fetch the wounded cowherds and carried
them to the Raja, all lying senseless on beds and put them down before
him. While they were away the Raja had told his sipahis to grind some
good hot _chilis_; and when the cowherds were brought to him he told
the sipahis to thrust the chili paste up their noses; this was done
and the smarting soon made the cowherds jump up and run away in a
very lively fashion, and that was the way the Raja kept his word and
cured them.
XLIX. The Foolish Sons.
There was once a man of the blacksmith caste who had six sons; the
sons were all married and the whole family lived together. But the
sons' wives took to quarrelling and at last the sons went to their
parents and proposed that they should set up separate households,
as the women folk could not live in peace.
The blacksmith and his wife did not like the idea at all and pointed
out that it would be most inadvisable; while, so far, there was plenty
of food and clothing for all, they would find it much more expensive
to have seven separate households and split up what was quite enough
so long as they lived together, and what was to become of their old
parents who were now too old to work? The sons protested that they
would support their father and mother as long as they lived, even
though the family separated.
At last the old man said that he would put them to the test and see
whether they were clever enough to manage their own affairs and smart
enough to cheat people into giving them what they wanted. "I will
see," said he, "how you would manage to support the family in time
of famine or if we fell into poverty. I and your mother have managed
to bring up a large family, and you know nothing of the anxiety that
it has cost us; you have merely had to enjoy yourselves and eat your
meals; if you insist on it, I will let you separate, but don't blame
me afterwards. However to-morrow I will take you on a journey and
find some means of testing your cleverness."
So the next morning they made ready for the journey; their father only
allowed them to take one meal of rice tied up in their cloths and he
gave each of them one pice, which he said was their inheritance. They
set off and after travelling some way they sat down and ate up their
rice and then went on again. By the middle of the afternoon they
began to feel hungry, so the father proposed their going to a bazar
which was in sight; but between them and the bazar was a channel of
stagnant water, very deep, and with its surface covered by a coating
of weeds. They tried to cross, but directly they set foot on it they
sank through the weeds, and it was too deep for wading. So their father
said they would all camp on the bank and he would see whether they were
clever enough to get across the channel and bring food for a meal;
if they could do that he would believe that they could support their
families in time of famine.
So the old man spread his cloth on the ground and set down and watched
them try their luck one by one. The eldest brother first jumped up
to try but he could not cross the channel; everytime he tried, he
sank through the weeds, at last he gave up in despair and admitted
that he could not feed the party. Then the other brothers all tried
in turn and failed. At last it came to the turn of the youngest; he
modestly said that he was not likely to succeed where his elders had
failed but he would have a try, so he went to the edge of the water
and spreading out his cloth on the weeds lay down on it so that his
weight was distributed; in this position the weeds supported him and
he managed to wriggle himself across on his face to the other side.
Once across, he went to the bazar, and going to a shop began to
talk with the shopkeeper; after a little he asked for the loan of an
anna; the shopkeeper said that he could not lend to a stranger; the
blacksmith's son gave the name of some village as his home and pressed
for the loan, promising to pay him one anna as interest within a week
and pulling out his pice he said "See here, I will pay you this pice
as part of the interest in advance." At this the shopkeeper suffered
himself to be persuaded and lent him the anna.
With this the blacksmith's son went off to a second shop and begged
for the loan of four annas, as he had pressing need of it; he promised
to pay an anna a week interest, and to pay down at once the interest
for the first week. After some hesitation the shopkeeper was deceived
into lending the four annas. Then he went off to another shop and
borrowed a rupee by promising to pay eight annas a month as interest
and putting down four annas as advance.
Then he went to a Marwari's shop and asked for the loan of ten rupees;
the Marwari asked for interest at the rate of one rupee a day; the
blacksmith's son protested that that was too high but offered to pay
one rupee every two days and to pay one rupee of interest in advance;
the Marwari hesitated, but after being given a name and address--which
were however false--he gave way and took his signature to a bond
and lent him the ten rupees. At this the blacksmith's son set off in
triumph to rejoin his brothers; he crossed the water in the same way
as before and took the ten rupees to his father.
Then they all went on to another bazar and bought dried rice
and sweetmeats and curds and had a grand feast. Then their father
proceeded to point out to his sons how, except the youngest, they were
all useless; they had been unable to cross the channel or to make
anything of their own pice of capital; they had nothing to answer,
and all went home and from that day nothing was heard of any proposal
to divide the family until the old father and mother died.
L. Kora and His Sister.
There were once seven brothers and they had one sister who was the
youngest of the family. The six eldest brothers were married but no
wife had been found for the youngest; for three years enquiries were
made to try and find a suitable bride for him, but all in vain. At last
the young man, whose name was Kora, told his parents and brothers not
to trouble any more, as he would find a wife for himself; he intended
to bring a flowering plant from the forest and plant it by the stand
on which the watering pots were kept, and then he would marry any
maiden who picked one of the flowers and put it in her hair.
His father and mother approved of this proposal, so the next day he
brought some sort of flowering plant and planted it by the water-pot
stand. He charged all his family to be most careful that no one
of his own relations picked the flower and also to warn any of the
village girls who wanted to pick it, that if she did so and put it
in her hair, she would thereby become his wife; but if, knowing this,
anyone wished to do so, they were not to prevent her.
The neighbours soon got to hear what the plant meant and used often
to come and look at it, and Kora watched it growing, till after
a time it produced a bud and then a beautiful and sweet-scented
flower. All the village girls came to see the beautiful flower;
and one day Kora's sister when she went to the water-stand to get
some water to drink, caught hold of it and longed to pick it, it
looked so pretty. Her mother saw what she was doing and scolded her
for touching the forbidden flower, but the girl begged to see what
it would look like in her hair; there could be no harm done if she
pulled the whole plant up by its roots and put it in her hair and
then replanted it; no one would know what had happened. In spite of
her mother's remonstrances she insisted on doing this and having seen
how the flower looked in her hair carefully replanted it.
Soon afterwards Kora came home and went to see his flower; he knew
at once that some one had worn it and called to his mother and asked
who it was. She protested that she knew nothing about the matter,
but Kora said that he could tell by the smell that it had been
worn and then he showed that there was also a hair sticking to the
flower. Then his mother admitted that in spite of all she could say,
his sister had worn the flower and planted it again in the ground.
When she saw that she was found out, the girl began to cry, but her
father said that it was clearly fated that she and Kora should marry
and this was the reason why they had been unable to find any other
bride; so they must now arrange for the wedding. Accordingly rice was
got ready and all the usual preparations made for a marriage. The
unfortunate girl saw that flight was her only means of escape from
such a fate, so one day she ran away; all she took with her was a
pet parrot.
For many days she travelled on and one day she stopped by a pool
to bathe and as she rubbed her limbs she collected the scurf that
she rubbed off her skin and put in on the ground in one place; then
she went on with her bathing; but at the place where she had put the
scurf of her skin, a palm tree sprang up and grew so rapidly, that,
by the time she came out of the water, it had become a large tree.
The girl was struck by this strange sight and at once thought that
the tree would afford her a safe refuge; so she climbed up it with
her parrot in her hand and when safely seated among the leaves she
begged the palm tree to grow so tall that no one would be able to find
her, and the tree grew till it reached an unusual height. So the girl
stayed in the tree top and the parrot used to go every day and bring
her food. Meanwhile her parents and brothers searched high and low
for her for two or three days, for the wedding day was close at hand,
but their search was of course in vain; and they concluded that the
girl must have drowned herself in some river.
Time passed and one day at noon, a Mahuli girl, who was taking her
basket-ware to market, stopped to rest in the shade of the palm tree:
and as she sat there, Kora's sister called to her from the top of
the tree and asked her to give her a small winnowing fan in exchange
for a bracelet The Mahuli girl told her to throw the bracelet down
first. Kora's sister made no objection to this, and when she had got
the bracelet, the Mahuli girl threw up a winnowing fan which soared
right up to where Kora's sister was sitting. Before the Mahuli girl
went on her way, Kora's sister made her promise never to let anyone
see the bracelet whew she went about selling her baskets as otherwise
it would be stolen from her; and secondly on no account to let it be
known that there was anyone in the palm tree, on pain of death. The
Mahuli girl kept her promise and whenever she went out selling baskets
she used to keep her bracelet covered with her cloth.
One day it chanced that she went to the house where Kora lived to sell
her wares and they asked her why it was that she kept her arm covered;
she told them that she had a sore on it; they wanted to see how big
the sore was, but she refused to show it, saying that if she showed
it she would die. They laughed at such a ridiculous story and at last
forced her to show her arm, which of course was quite well; but they at
once recognised the bracelet and asked where she had got it from. The
Mahuli girl refused to tell them and said that if she did, she would
die. "What a foolish girl you are" they objected "first you say you
will die if you show us your arm and then if you tell us where you
got this bracelet from; it belonged to our daughter whom we have lost,
and so you must tell us! Come, we will give you a basket full of rice
if you tell us." The Mahuli girl could not resist this offer, and when
the basket of rice was produced, she told them where the palm tree was,
in which Kora's sister was hiding. In all haste the father and mother
went to the tree and found that it was much too high for them to climb:
so they begged their daughter to come down and promised not to marry
her to her brother; but she would not come down: then they sang:--
"You have made a palm tree from the scrapings of your skin
And have climbed up into it, daughter!
Come daughter, come down."
But she only answered:--
"Father and mother, why do you cry?
I must spend my life here:
"Do you return home."
So they went home in despair.
Then her sisters-in-law came in their turn and sang:--
"Palm tree, palm tree, give us back our sister:
The brother and sister have got to be married."
But she would not answer them nor come down from the tree, so they
had to go home without her.
Then all her other relations came and besought her to come down,
but she would not listen to them. So they went away and invoked a
storm to come to their aid. And a storm arose and cold rain fell,
till the girl in the palm tree was soaked and shivering, and the
wind blew and swayed the palm tree so that its top kept touching the
ground. At last she could bear the cold and wet no more and, seizing
an opportunity when the tree touched the ground, she slipped off. Her
relations had made all the villagers promise on no account to let
her into their houses; so when she went into the village and called
out at house after house no one answered her or opened to her. Then
she went to her own home and there also they refused to open to her.
But Kora had lit a big fire in the cow house and sat by it warming
himself, knowing that the girl would have to come to him; and as she
could find no shelter elsewhere she had to go to his fire, and then
she sat and warmed herself and thought "I fled for fear of this man
and now I have come back to him; this is the end, I can no longer stay
in this world; the people will not even let me into their houses. I
have no wish to see them again."
So she sat and thought, and when she was warmed, she lay down by
the side of Kora; and he wore tied to his waist a nail-cutter; she
unfastened this and cut her throat with it as she lay. Her death
struggles aroused Kora, and he got up and saw the ground covered with
her blood and he saw that she had killed herself with his nail-cutter;
then he took counsel with himself and also cut his throat in the same
way. In the morning the two corpses were found lying side by side,
and it was seen that their blood refused to mingle but had flowed in
opposite directions.
So they took the bodies away to burn them and laid them on one pyre;
and when the fire was lit, it was seen that the smoke from the two
bodies rose separately into the air. Then all who saw it, said "We
wished to marry brother and sister but Chando would not approve of it;
see how their blood would not mingle though spilt on the same floor,
and how the smoke from the pyre rises in two separate columns; it is
plain that the marriage of brother and sister is wrong." From that
time such manages have been discontinued.
LI. A Story on Caste.
There was once a village inhabited only by Musahars. Among them was
one girl who was so beautiful that she seemed more than human. Her
father and mother were so proud of her looks that they determined
not to marry her to a man of their own caste. They were constantly
discussing whom they should choose as a son-in-law; one day they began
to consider who were the greatest persons in the world. The old woman
was of opinion that there was no one greater than Chando, the Sun God,
and suggested that they should marry the girl to him. Her husband
agreed and off they set and presented themselves before Chando. Chando
asked why they had come. "O Chando, we understand that you are the
greatest being in the world and we have come to marry our daughter
to you," Chando answered "I fancy there is some one greater than I,"
"Who is he?" asked the parents. "The cloud is greater than I, for it
can hide my face and quench my rays."
At this the father and mother hurried off with their daughter in search
of the Cloud, and when they found him, told him that they had brought
their daughter to give him to wife, as he was the greatest being in
the world. "I may be great," said the Cloud, "but there is a greater
than I, the Wind. The Wind rises and blows me away in a minute." So
they went in search of the Wind and when they found him, explained
to him why they had brought him their daughter. The Wind said "I am
strong but there are stronger than I: the Mountains are stronger. I can
blow things down or whirl them away, but I cannot move the mountains."
So on they went to the Mountain and explained their errand. The
Mountain said "I am great but there are more powerful than I. The
ground-rat is more powerful, for however high I may be the ground-rats
burrow holes in me and I cannot resist them."
The poor parents by this time began to feel rather discouraged,
but still they made up their minds to persevere and went on to look
for the ground-rat. They found him and offered him their daughter in
marriage, but the ground-rat denied that he was the most powerful
being on earth, the Musahars were more powerful for they lived by
digging out ground-rats and eating them.
The hapless couple went home very dejectedly, reflecting that they
had begun by despising their own caste and had gone in search of
something greater and had ended where they begun. So they arranged
to marry their daughter to a man of their own caste after all.
_Moral_ You should not despise your own caste or race; you cannot
help what caste you are born into. A Santal may learn to read and
write and associate with men of good position and thereby his mind
may be perverted. He may wish to change his caste become a Sadhu, or
a Kherwar, or a Boistab, or a Mussulman, or a Christian or anything
else; but people will still know him for a beef-eating Santal. If he
becomes a Christian, no one will think him the equal of a Saheb or
a Brahman; no Saheb will marry his daughter or give him his daughter
in marriage. Remember what happened to the Musahar, who despised his
own caste. God caused you to be born in a certain caste. He and not
we made the different castes and He knows what is good and bad for us.
LII. Tipi and Tepa.
Tipi and Tepa dwelt together and lived on baked cakes. One day they
met a bear in the jungle. "Now I will eat you" growled the bear. "Spare
us," said Tipi and Tepa "and to-morrow we will beg some food and bake
it into cakes and give it to you," So the bear let them go away to beg;
but when they came back they ate the food which they had procured and
then hid themselves inside a hollow gourd. The bear came and looked
about for them but could not find them and went away.
The next day Tipi and Tepa again went out begging and as luck would
have it again met the bear. "Now I will eat you" said the bear. "No"
said they "let us go and beg some food for you." So they went off
begging and came back and baked cakes and ate them and then hid
inside the gourd. The bear came and carried off the gourd on its
shoulder and began to pick plums and other fruit and put them into
the gourd. As fast as the fruit was put in Tipi and Tepa ate it
up. "It is a very funny thing that the gourd does not become full"
thought the bear. But Tepa ate so much that at last he burst, with
such a noise that the bear threw down the gourd and ran away.
LIII. The Child with the Ears of an Ox.
Once upon a time a son was born to a certain Raja and the child had
the ears of an ox. The Raja was very much ashamed and let no one
know. But the secret could not be kept from the barber who had to
perform the ceremony of shaving the child's head. However the Raja
made the barber vow not to tell anyone of what he had seen.
So the barber went away, but the secret which he might not tell had an
unfortunate effect; it made his stomach swell to an enormous size. As
the barber went along in this unhappy condition he met a Dom who asked
why his stomach was so swollen. The barber said that it was because
he had shaved the Raja's child and had seen that it had the ears of
an ox. Directly he had broken his vow and blurted out the secret,
his stomach returned to its usual size.
The Dom went his way and cut down a tree and made a drum out of the
wood, and went about playing on the drum and begging. He came to the
Raja's palace and there he drummed and sang:--
"The son of the Raja
Has the ears of an ox."
When the Raja heard this, he was very angry, and swore to punish the
barber who must have broken his vow. But the Dom assured the Raja
that he knew nothing about the matter; that it was the drum that sang
the words and not he and that he had no idea what they meant. So the
Raja was pacified and gave the Dom a present and sent him away and
the barber was not punished.
LIV. The Child Who Knew His Father.
Once upon a time there was a girl whose parents took the greatest
care that she should not be familiar with any of the young men of
the village. But in spite of their precautions she formed an intimacy
with a young man and was presently found to be with child. When this
became known the villagers held a panchayat to enquire into the matter,
but the girl flatly declined to give any information and her father
and brothers were unable to point out the offender. So the village
elders decided to let the matter stand over till the child was born.
When the birth took place the question arose in whose name its head
should be shaved; as its father was still unknown, the villagers
decided that this should be settled when the child was old enough to
talk. So when the child was two or three years old and could prattle
a little, the girl's father went to the headman and _paranic_ and
asked them what was to be done. They said that he must pay a fine to
them and another to the villagers, because he had made the village
unclean for so long, and give a feast to the villagers and then they
would find out the father of the child and make him marry the girl;
and if he refused to do this, he would be outcasted. The unfortunate
man agreed and then the _jog manjhi_ and _godet_ were sent to call
all the men of the neighbourhood to a meeting.
They assembled in their best clothes and pagris and sat down in rows,
and in the middle a circle was drawn on the ground; then prayers were
offered to Chando and the child was set in the circle and told to find
its father. The child began to walk slowly along the lines of men but
it did not stop till it came to its real father, who was sitting a
little apart, and then it threw itself into his arms. Thus the truth
was discovered and the man married the girl and, as he was very poor,
went to live in his father-in-law's house.
LV. Jogeshwar's Marriage.
Once upon a time there was a young man of the weaver caste, named
Jogeshwar. He was an orphan and lived all alone. One summer he planted
a field of pumpkins on the sandy bed of a river. The plants grew well
and bore plenty of fruit: but when the pumpkins were ripe, a jackal
found them out and went every night and feasted on them. Jogeshwar
soon found out from the foot-marks who was doing the damage; so he set
a snare and a few days later found the jackal caught in it. He took
a stick to beat its life out, but the jackal cried: "Spare me and I
will find you a wife." So Jogeshwar stayed his hand and released the
jackal who promised at once to set off about the business.
The jackal kept his word and went to a city where a Raja lived. There
he sat down on the bank of one of the Raja's tanks. To this tank the
servants from the palace brought the pots and dishes to be washed,
and to this tank also came the Rani and princesses to bathe. Whenever
the servants came to wash their dishes, the jackal kept on repeating:
"What sort of a Raja is this whose plates are washed in water in
which people have bathed? there is no Raja like Raja Jogeshwar: he
eats of golden plates and yet he never uses them a second time but
throws them away directly he has eaten off them once."
The servants soon carried word to the Raja of the jackal who sat by
the tank and of his story of Raja Jogeshwar. Then the Raja sent for
the jackal and asked why he had come: the jackal answered that he was
looking for a bride for Raja Jogeshwar. Now the Raja had three or four
daughters and he thought that he saw his way to a fine match for one
of them. So he sent for the young women and asked the jackal to say
whether one of them would be a suitable bride for Raja Jogeshwar. The
jackal chose the second sister and said that he would go and get the
consent of Raja Jogeshwar.
The jackal hurried back and told the astonished weaver that he had
found a Raja's daughter for him to marry. Jogeshwar had nothing to
delay him and only asked that an early day might be fixed for the
wedding. So the jackal went back to the Raja and received from him
the knotted string that fixed the date of the wedding.
The jackal had now to devise some means by which Jogeshwar could
go through the wedding ceremonies without his poverty being found
out. He first went to the Raja and asked how many attendants Raja
Jogeshwar should bring with him, as he did not want to bring more
than the bride's father could entertain. The Raja was too proud to
fix any number and said they could bring as many as they liked.
Jogeshwar having no relations and no money, was quite unable to arrange
for a grand procession to escort him; he could only just afford to hire
a palki in which to be carried to the bride's house; so the jackal
sent word to all the jackals and paddy birds of the neighbourhood to
come to a feast at the palace of the bride, an invitation which was
eagerly accepted. At the time fixed they started off, with all the
paddy birds riding on the backs of the jackals. When they came within
sight of the palace, the jackal ran on ahead and invited the Raja to
come out and look at the procession as there was still time to send
them back, if they were too many, but it would be a great disgrace
if they were allowed to arrive and find no entertainment. The Raja
went out to look and when he saw the procession stretching away for a
distance of two miles or more with all the paddy birds looking like
white horsemen as they rode on the backs of the jackals, his heart
failed him and he begged the jackal to send them away, as he could
not entertain such a host.
So then the jackal hurried back and turned them all away and Jogeshwar
reached the palace, accompanied only by his palki bearers.
Before the wedding feast, the jackal gave Jogeshwar some hints as to
his behaviour. He warned him that three of four kinds of meat and
vegetables would be handed round with the rice, and bade him to be
sure to help himself from each dish--of course in his own house the
poor weaver had never had more than one dish to eat with his rice--and
when _pan_ was handed to him after the feast he was not to take any
until he had a handful of money given him; by such behaviour he would
lead every one to think that he was really a prince. Jogeshwar did
exactly as he was told and was thought a very grand personage.
The next evening Jogeshwar set off homewards with his bride, the
bride's brothers and attendants accompanying them. They travelled on
and on till the bride's party began to grow tired and kept asking the
jackal how much further they had to go. The jackal kept on putting them
off, till at last they came in sight of a grove of palm trees, and he
told them that Raja Jogeshwar's palace stood among the palm trees but
was so old and weather worn that it could not be seen from a distance.
When they reached the palm grove and found nothing but Jogeshwar's
humble hut, the bride's brothers turned on the jackal and asked what
he meant by deceiving them. The jackal protested that he had told no
lies: the weaver ate every day off plates made of dry leaves and threw
them away when done with and that was all he meant when he talked of
golden plates. At this excuse they turned on him and wanted to beat
him, but he ran away and escaped.
The bride's friends went back and told the Raja how things had turned
out and as divorce was not lawful for them, the Raja could only send
for his daughter and her husband and give them an estate to live on.
LVI. The Strong Man.
There was once a Strong man but no one knew of his strength. He was in
the service of a farmer who made him headman over all his labourers. In
those days much of the country was still covered with jungle. One
day the farmer chose a piece of forest land which he thought suitable
for cultivation and told his labourers to set to work and clear it,
and as usual after giving his orders he troubled himself no more
about the matter, as he could fully rely on the Strong man.
The next morning, the Strong man set the other labourers to work
ploughing a field and then said that he would go and have a look
at the jungle which his master wanted cleared. So he went off alone
with only a stick in his hand. When he reached the place, he walked
all round it, and saw how much could be made into good arable land,
and then he began to clear it. He pulled up the trees by the roots and
piled them into a heap and he took the rocks and threw them to one side
and made the ground quite clear and smooth, and then went back to the
house. On being asked why he had been so long away, he answered that he
had been pulling up a few bushes at the place which was to be cleared.
The following morning the Strong man told the farm labourers to take
their ploughs to the clearing and begin to plough it. When the farmer
heard this, he was puzzled to think how the land could be ready for
ploughing so soon, and went to see it and to his amazement found the
whole land cleared, every tree pulled up by the roots and all the
rocks removed.
Then he asked the Strong man whether he had done the work by
himself. The Strong man answered "no," a number of people had
volunteered to help him and so the work had been finished in a day.
The farmer said nothing but he did not believe the story and saw that
his servant must really be a man of marvellous strength. Neither
he nor the farm labourers let any one else know what had happened,
they kept it to themselves.
Now the Strong man's wages were twelve measures of rice a year. After
working for four years he made up his mind to leave his master and
start farming on his own account. So he told the farmer that he wished
to leave but offered to finish any work there was to do before he went,
that no one might be able to say that he had gone away, leaving his
work half done. The farmer assured him that there was nothing for
him to do and gave him rice equal to his four years' wages. The rice
made two big _bandis_, each more than an ordinary man could lift,
but the Strong man slung them on to a bamboo and carried them off
over his shoulder.
After he had gone a little way, it struck the farmer that it would
not do to let him display his strength in this way and that it would
be better if he took the rice away at night. So he had the Strong man
called back and told him that there was one job which he had forgotten
to finish; he had put two bundles of sahai grass into the trough to
steep and had forgotten to twist it into string. Without a word the
Strong man wait and picked the _sabai_ out of the water and began
to twist it, but he could tell at once by the feel that the _sabai_
had only just been placed in the water and he charged the farmer with
playing a trick on him. The farmer swore that there was no trick and,
rather than quarrel, the Strong man went on with the work.
While he was so engaged the farmer offered him some tobacco, and the
Strong man took it without washing and wiping his hands. Now no one
should prepare or chew tobacco while twisting sabai; if one does not
first wash and dry one's hands one's strength will go. The Strong
man knew this, but he was so angry at being called back on false
pretences that he forgot all about it.
But when he had finished the string and the farmer said that he might
go, he essayed to take up the two _bandis_ of rice as before. To his
sorrow he found that he could not lift them. Then he saw the mistake
that he had made. He had to leave one _bandi_ behind and divide the
other into two halves and sling them on the bamboo and carry them
off with him.
The Strong man's cultivation did not prosper, and after three or four
years he found himself at the end of his means and had again to take
service with a farmer.
One day when field work was in full swing the Strong man had a quarrel
with his new master. So when he had finished the morning's ploughing
he pulled the iron point of the ploughshare out of its socket and
snapped it in two. Then he took the pieces to his master and explained
that it had caught on the stump of a tree and got broken. The master
took the broken share to the blacksmith and had it mended. The next
day the Strong man went through the same performance and his master
had again to go the blacksmith. The same thing happened several days
running, till at last the farmer decided to keep watch and see what
really happened. So he hid himself and saw the Strong man snap the
ploughshare in two; but in view of such a display of strength he was
much too frightened to let his servant know that he had found out
the trick that was being played on him. He took the pieces to the
blacksmith as usual and at the smithy he found some of his friends
and told them what had happened. They advised him to set the Strong
man to twisting sabai string and then by some pretext induce him to
take tobacco. The farmer did as they advised and in about a fortnight
the Strong man lost all his strength and became as other men. Then
his master dismissed him and he had to go back to his house and his
strength never returned to him.
LVII. The Raja's Advice.
Once upon a time an aged Raja lay dying. Before he breathed his
last he sent for his only son and gave him the following advice. "My
son," he said, "never go on a journey alone; do not associate with
low people, for if you do no one will respect you; never confide a
secret to your wife; do not tell outsiders the affairs of your house;
do not let village affairs go beyond the village street, and never
get into a rage."
The son succeeded to the Raja and shortly afterwards set out to pay
a visit to his wife's relations. He started alone and after going
some distance he remembered his father's injunctions never to go on
a journey alone. He had gone too far to go back and he saw no one
within call, so he looked about and presently found a crab hole. He
set to work and dug out the crab and fixing it in his _pagri_ continued
his journey.
By-and-bye he came to a river. Now in this river lived a crocodile,
which had leagued with a crow to destroy travellers crossing the
river. Whenever the crow saw anyone coming, it gave warning to the
crocodile, and the crocodile then seized the traveller as he entered
the river, while the crow pecked out his eyes. In this way they had
been the death of many travellers. So when the crow saw the young
Raja coming, it cawed to the crocodile, which hastened to the ford
and seized the Raja as he stepped into the water, while the crow flew
at his head. But the crab caught the crow by the leg and nipped it so
hard that the crow, in agony, called out to the crocodile to let the
man go, as it was being killed. So the crocodile released its hold
and the Raja struggled to the bank, and then caught the crow which
was held fast by the crab and wrung its neck. Then he went back home
with the crab, reflecting on the wisdom of his father's advice.
Later on, the Raja thought that he would put another of his father's
maxims to the proof and see what would happen if he told his wife
a secret. So he took a spade and buried an old earthen pot in the
corner of his garden. He let his wife see him and she promptly asked
what he was burying; he put her off, but that night she insisted so
much on knowing, that, after swearing her to secrecy, he told her
that a child had come straying to his house and he had killed it to
obtain good luck and had buried the body.
Time passed, and one day the Raja had a quarrel with his wife, he began
to beat her and she in return abused him and kept on calling out that
he was a murderer, who had buried a child in his garden. Their next
door neighbour heard all this and, directly she found the Raja's
wife alone, asked whether what she said was true. The Raja's wife,
being still in a passion, asserted that it was quite true. The story
was soon all over the town, and the townspeople rose and seized the
Raja and charged him with the murder. Then he took them to the garden
and made them dig up what he had buried and they found only an old pot.
So they had to pay him compensation for making a false charge, and
the Raja valued more than ever the advice given him by his father.
LVIII. The Four Jogis.
Once four Jogis were out on a begging expedition and came to a city
were a Raja lived. As they went along they discussed how they should
beg of the Raja; and while they were discussing the point, they saw a
field rat and one of them exclaimed "I know how I shall beg of him! I
shall say 'See, he throws up the earth, scrapety scrape!'" This did not
help the other three, but, further on, some frogs jumped into a pond as
they passed by, and one of the others at once said "I know what I shall
say! I shall say 'plumpety plump! down he has sat.'" A little later,
they saw a pig wallowing in the mud, and the third Jogi called out
"I have it! I shall say 'Rub away, rub away! Now some more water! Rub
away, rub away! I know, my boys, what you are going to do.'" The
fourth Jogi was still in perplexity but, when they came in sight of
the Raja's city, he exclaimed "I know what I shall say 'Highways and
byeways, what a big city! The kotwal is going his rounds, his rounds.'"
Then they got a man to write down these four forms of address on a
sheet of paper and presented it to the Raja. The Raja took it, and
read it, and could not make head or tail of it. And when the four
Jogis saw him looking so puzzled, they got frightened and took to
their heels, for they could not read themselves and were not sure of
what the paper really contained.
Now the Raja's chief officer was a Tehsildar, and he had also a Barber,
who shaved him every day, And that evening after the Jogis had run
away, the Tehsildar proposed to the Barber that, when shaving the
Raja the next morning, he should cut the Raja's throat and they could
then divide the kingdom between them, and the Barber consented. Not
content with this, the Tehsildar and the palace chowkidar that same
night tried to break into the Raja's palace and steal his money and
jewellery. They began to cut a hole through the mud wall of the Raja's
room, but it chanced that the Raja was so puzzled by the paper which
the Jogis had put into his hand, that he kept on reading it over and
over again, and just as the Tehsildar and chowkidar had half cut their
way through the wall, they heard the Raja saying "See, he throws
up the earth, scrapety, scrape!" At once they concluded that they
had been heard and they crouched down; the Raja went on "Plumpety,
plump! down he has sat." This made them think that they had been seen
and the chowkidar crept to the door to listen: he heard the Raja saying
"Highways and byeways, what a big city! The kotwal is going his rounds,
his rounds!" Then the chowkidar felt sure that he was discovered and
he ran off with the Tehsildar, without completing their burglary.
The next morning the Barber went to shave the Raja, and, while he was
sharpening the razor, the Raja again began to study the mysterious
paper, murmuring "Rub away, rub away, now some more water: Rub away,
rub away! I know my boy what you are going to do." The Barber thought
that the Raja referred to his rubbing water over his face for shaving,
and concluded that the Tehsildar had revealed the plot; so he threw
himself at the Raja's feet and confessed everything, swearing that
the Tehsildar and not he was to blame. The Raja at once sent for
the chowkidar to take the Tehsildar and Barber to prison. When the
chowkidar came in he found the Raja repeating "See he throws up the
earth, scrapety, scrape!" He at once concluded that the Raja was
referring to the burglary and he fell on his knees and confessed all
that had happened. This was news to the Raja, but he went and saw the
place where the wall had been partly cut through, and then he sent
all the guilty men to prison and despatched messengers to look for
the Jogis who had been the means of saving his life and property;
but the Jogis had been so frightened and had run away so far, that
they were never found.
LIX. The Charitable Raja.
There was once a Raja who was very charitable; he used to give a new
cloth and a good meal to every one who came and begged of him. But
one day a Jogi came and refused to take what was offered to him: he
demanded that the Raja should give him his kingdom and everything
that he had. The Raja thought it wrong to refuse the request, and
went out into the world with his wife and his two young children,
a beggar. For a long time they wandered about living on charity,
till their clothes were worn to rags, and then they chanced to hear
of a rich merchant who gave a cloth to any beggar who asked it of him;
so they resolved to go to him for help. When they reached the village
where the merchant lived, the Rani left the Raja with the two children
to cook some dinner and went to the merchant's house to beg for some
clothes; but when the merchant saw her he fell in love with her and
shut her up and would not let her go. To be saved from the merchant's
designs the Rani prayed that she might be smitten with disease and
at once she became very ill.
After waiting in vain for her return the Raja set off with his two sons
to look for her and presently came to a flooded river. He carried one
child across first but, as he was returning for the other, he was swept
away by the current and the children were left alone. A Goala woman,
going to the river for water, found them, and as she was childless
took them home with her and brought them up.
Meanwhile the Raja was carried down stream by the flood and was washed
ashore, bruised and wounded, a long way down. At the place where he
landed a large crowd was collected; for the Raja of the country had
lately died leaving no heir, and the widow had ordered all the people
to assemble in order that two elephants, belonging to the late Raja,
might choose his successor. The half-drowned Raja joined the crowd and
as he sat looking on, one elephant, passing by all its own people,
came to him and put the golden necklace on his neck and the other
elephant lifted him on to its back and carried him off and seated him
on the Raja's throne; and as he sat on the throne all his wounds and
bruises were healed. Years passed and the Raja's two sons grew up,
and as the Goala woman who had adopted them was very poor, they went
out into the world to earn their living. As it chanced, they took
service as sipahis with the Raja their father, whom of course they
did not recognise. Just after their arrival the Raja arranged a great
festival at which people from all parts assembled; and among others
the merchant went there with the Raja's wife, in hopes that among
the crowd he might find some physician able to cure the woman. When
he arrived, he went to the Raja and asked that two sipahis might be
deputed to keep watch over the woman he had brought. The Raja sent
his two newly enlisted sipahis, and thus the sons were set to guard
their own mother, and it was not long before they found out their
relationship. The Rani was delighted to recover her long lost children,
but when she heard that her husband had been washed away by the river
and drowned, she began to weep and wail. The merchant went to the Raja
and complained that the sipahis who had been sent, had thrown the woman
into great distress and the Raja thereupon sent for all the parties
in order that he might enquire into the matter. When he heard their
story, he at once recognised that it was his own wife and sons who
stood before him and thus the whole family was happily united. Then
his wife prayed to Thakur that if she were really the wife he had
lost and had been faithful to him, she might be restored to health;
water was poured over her and she was at once cured of her disease,
and they all lived happily ever afterwards.
LX. A Variant.--The Wandering Raja.
Once there was a Raja who was very prosperous; but his wife found
their life of wealth and ease monotonous, and she continually urged
him to travel into other countries and to see whether other modes
of life were pleasant or distressful; she pestered her husband so
much that at last he gave way. He put his kingdom in charge of his
father's sister and her husband and set off with his wife and his
two sons as an ordinary traveller.
After travelling some days they got tired of eating the parched rice
which they had brought with them and thought they would boil some rice
for their dinner. So the Rani went into a bazar to get cooking pots,
and a light for the fire. She went to the house of a rich merchant for
these, but he was attracted by her beauty and seized her and shut her
up and would not let her go back, but kept her as his wife. The Raja
and his sons soon got tired of waiting for her; he concluded that
the journey was merely a pretext of his wife's to escape from him,
as she had disappeared the first time that he let her out of his sight.
So he turned to go home and soon came to a river which had to be
crossed, he left his sons on the bank and went into the water to
see how deep it was and as he was wading in, a large fish came and
swallowed him. The fish swam away down stream and was caught in the
net of some fishermen. When they saw how big a fish they had caught,
they decided to take it to the Raja of that country. The Raja bought
it at a high price, but when it was cut open at the palace the man
it had swallowed was found alive inside; so the Raja of the country
appointed him one of his retainers.
Meanwhile the two boys had been found abandoned on the bank of the
river by a cowherd, who was too poor to bring them up, so he took
them also to the Raja; and they rejoiced to meet their father and
when they grew up, were also appointed retainers.
They had to travel all over the country on the Raja's business and it
happened that they one day came to the village where their mother was
and they met and recognised her; she told them how she had been seized
and confined and begged them to bring her husband to her. So the sons
fetched their father and the Rani told her husband how unhappy she was
and begged him to get her released, and he promised to ask the help
of his master. When the Raja of the country heard the story he took
pity on them and went with a body of soldiers and seized the wicked
merchant and ordered him to give up all his wealth and as the merchant
tried to conceal where some of his money was buried, the Raja cut
him down with his sword. He also laid a heavy fine on the villagers,
because they had not sent word to him of the capture of the Rani.
Then he took home the Raja who had been swallowed by the fish and his
wife and sons, and entertained them for some days, and then gave them
elephants and horses and men and all the merchant's property and sent
them to their own country. The uncle and aunt who had been appointed
Regents came out to meet them and escorted them home.
Two or three days after the aunt asked the Raja how he had got his
elephants and horses and money, and he said "They are the profits
of my wife's sin; I will not tell you the whole story for if you
heard it you also might be led astray; my wife induced me to travel
by false pretences. It is not good to follow the advice of a woman;
it is by mere chance that you see me alive to-day." His wife heard
what he said, and she went out and cut her throat from remorse;
and they went and burned her body.
LXI. The Two Wives.
There were once a Raja and his Dewan who had each one son, and the
two boys were great friends. Both had been married in their infancy
and when they grew up and heard that they had wives, they agreed to
go together and visit them. So they set out, and they arranged that
on account of the superior rank of the Raja's son they would go first
and visit his wife; and they also agreed that, as they were going to
a strange place, they would keep together day and night.
When they reached the house of the Prince's father-in-law they were
received with great honour and when night came they lay down with
their beds side by side. Presently the Prince's wife came to him
and began to rub his arms and legs, until she had soothed him off to
sleep. The Dewan's son pretended also to go fast asleep, but really
he was careful to keep awake, for he thought it safer to be on the
watch in a strange place.
His prudence was rewarded, for after a time he saw the Prince's wife
leave her sleeping husband and go out of the house.
The Dewan's son followed her and saw her enter the house of a Gosain
who lived on the outskirts of the village. He went near and listened at
the door. He heard the Gosain ask the young woman why she was so late
in coming, and her answer that she had been detained by the visit of
her husband. The Gosain reproached her for not having told him that
she was married, and she protested that she had known nothing about
it until her husband appeared. The Gosain said that she must choose
between him and her husband, and she answered that she would never
give him up. "Then" said the Gosain "if you really mean it, go and
bring me your husband's head." At this the Dewan's son hurried back
and lay down on his bed. Presently he saw the woman come with a sword
and cut off her husband's head. But when she took it to the Gosain,
he rose and beat her with his iron pincers and drove her out, swearing
that he would have nothing more to do with a woman who was so heartless
as to kill her own husband. Then the woman returned and placed the
severed head by her husband's body and raised a great outcry, that
her husband had been murdered. The people of the house came and at
first they charged the Dewan's son with the crime and were about to
put him to death; but he called the Gosain as a witness and the real
facts were proved by his evidence, and the murderess was hanged.
The Dewan's son would not allow the Prince's body to be burnt but
insisted on taking it with him, that it might be cremated at his own
home. So he took it on his back and carried it off.
He thought that, as he had come so far, it would be better to visit
his own wife before going home. So, when he reached the village where
his wife lived, he hid the Prince's body in a hollow tree and went
to his father-in-law's house.
That night when they had gone to bed, the Dewan's son saw that his
wife had something on her mind, so he resolved to watch her.
When she thought that he was asleep, he saw her rise and go out of the
house. He followed her to a shrine of Mahadeb; there she smeared the
ground with cowdung and worshipped the god and said "O Siva! I have
worshipped you for many days; now my husband has come to take me to
his house, and you must find another worshipper." The Mahadeb answered
"You have served me for many days; call hither your husband; as you
have worshipped me for so long, I will confer a boon on you." So she
went and called her husband and as he knew what had happened, he had
no hesitation in going with her to the shrine. There the Siv bade him
ask a boon, and he prayed that the Raja's son might be restored to
life, The Siv bade them bring the body and cover it with a wet cloth;
and when they had done so, the body began to breathe and presently
the Prince rose up alive and well. The Dewan's son told him all that
had happened and the next day they went home, taking with them the
wife of the Dewan's son, through whose virtue and piety the Prince
had been restored to life.
LXII. Spanling and His Uncles.
There was once a little man named Spanling (Bita) because he was
only a span (_Bita_) high; and he had a beard one span and four
finger-breadths long. His father was dead, and he lived alone with
his mother and he was as cunning as anyone in the world. He had one
cow-buffalo and this he always grazed at night, for fear that the sun
might melt it. Once it happened that as he was following his buffalo,
he got buried in its droppings and he was so small that he could not
get out.
However, next morning, some girls, who were gathering cowdung for fuel,
found him and set him free. Spanling decided to get rid of the buffalo
after this; so he killed it and flayed it and when the skin was dry,
took it away to sell. Before he found a purchaser night came on,
so he climbed a tree with his hide to be out of danger. During the
night a gang of thieves came to the tree, and began to divide their
booty. While there were busy over this, Spanling let the hide fall
with a clatter into their midst, and they all ran away in a fright,
leaving all their stolen goods behind.
When day dawned, Spanling climbed down and found piles of gold waiting
for him. He took it home and sent his mother to borrow a wooden measure
from his uncles to measure it with. When he returned the measure,
one of the gold pieces was left sticking in a crack. His uncles at
once hastened to enquire how he came to be measuring gold. Spanling
told them that he had sold his buffalo skin at a town which he named,
for an enormous price and no doubt they could find the same market, if
they chose to kill their buffaloes. The uncles hurried home and killed
all their buffaloes and took the hides to the city, which Spanling
had named, but they were only laughed at when they asked more than
the price which was paid every day for hides. The uncles came home
very angry at the way in which they had been tricked by Spanling,
and in revenge they burnt his house down. Finding himself homeless,
Spanling gathered the ashes of his house into sacks, loaded them on
a cart and drove away. When evening came he camped by the roadside
in company with some other carters and, in the middle of the night,
he quietly changed his sacks of ashes for some of the sacks in the
other carts. When he got home he found that the sacks which he had
stolen were full of gold coins. He again sent to his uncles for a
measure and when the measure was returned a gold coin was again left
sticking in a crack. The uncles at once came to enquire how Spanling
had got the money. He told them that he had sold the ashes of his
house for gold and, as their houses were bigger than his, they would
doubtless make their fortunes if they burnt them down and sold the
ashes. The uncles took his advice but when they tried to sell the
ashes they were only laughed at for their pains.
LXIII. The Silent Wife.
There was once a madcap of a fellow, whose wife got on very well with
him and did all the house work very nicely, but she would never speak
a single word to him. As nothing he tried would make her speak, the
madcap at last hit on a plan of taking her on a long journey. But even
when he told his wife that she must come with him to a far country,
she did not utter a word. When all was ready for a start the madcap
bathed his feet and took a _lota_ of water into the house and pouring
it out, prayed to the spirit of his grandfather thus "Grandfather,
grant that my wife may speak; if you do not fail me in this, I will
make offerings to you on my return; grant that we may come back
together happily; teach her to speak to me soon."
Then he set out with his wife and they travelled on until they entered
a dense forest, where there was no sign of human habitation. As they
went on, the tailor birds and babblers began to chatter and scream
at them. The madcap got angry at this and called out to the birds
that if they did not stop, he would chase them and go on chasing
them for a day and a night. Then he sat down and watched them. His
wife stood waiting by his side, and soon she began to wonder what she
would do and where she would go, if her husband really went in chase
of the birds. So at last she spoke to him and said "Come, get up;
we must make haste out of this jungle." Directly the words were out
of her mouth, the madcap knelt down and bowing to the ground said
"I thank you, Grandfather". Then he rose and went on with his wife.
Presently they met a bear; the madcap called out "You brute of a bear,
what do you mean by coming to meet us like this? I will chase you and
go on chasing you till to-morrow morning." But his wife besought him
to come along and not leave her. Directly she spoke, the madcap cried
"Bravo" and kneeling down thanked his grandfather. They went on and
presently a jackal crossed their path; the madcap cursed it and vowed
that he would chase it all the night. Again his wife urged him to
come on and again the madcap knelt down and thanked his grandfather;
but his wife did not know why he did so, nor did she trouble to ask.
Just as they reached the edge of the forest they saw a leopard and this
also the madcap threatened to chase. "Then go and chase it," said his
wife, who now felt safe. So he went in pursuit of the leopard, but
after going a little way he lost sight of it and went back to where
his wife was. "What has become of all your boasting?" said she. "You
have not chased it till to-morrow morning." "No," said the madcap
"I have killed it; if you don't believe me, come and see." But she
did not want to go back into the jungle and said no more about it. As
his wife had broken her silence the madcap saw no use in going further
and they turned homewards; all the way his wife went on chatting and
singing along with him. When he reached home he sacrificed a number of
goats to his grandfather, and lived happily with his wife ever after.
LXIV. The Dumb Shepherd.
There was once a very rich and powerful Raja and in his heart he
thought that there was no one so powerful in the world as himself;
thus he thought but he told no one of his thought. One day he made
up his mind to see whether others could guess what he was thinking,
so he called together his officers and servants and dependants and
bade them tell him what thought was in his heart. Many of them made
guesses, but not one gave an answer which satisfied the Raja.
Then the Raja told his dewan that he must without fail find some
one who would, guess his thought, and he gave the dewan exactly one
month's time in which to search. The dewan searched high and low but
all in vain, and as the time drew near he grew more and more anxious,
for he feared that he would fall into disgrace. But he had a daughter
and she consoled him and told him to cheer up, as she would find a
man on the day fixed to read the Raja's thoughts. The dewan had to
take what comfort he could from this promise, and when the appointed
day arrived, his daughter brought a dumb shepherd whom they employed
and bade her father take him to the Raja. The dewan thought it very
unlikely that the dumb shepherd would succeed where others had failed,
but he saw no alternative to following his daughter's advice.
So the dewan presented himself before the Raja with the dumb shepherd
and found a large company assembled to see what happened. The two
stood before the Raja and the dumb man looked at the Raja. Then
the Raja held up one finger, at this the dumb shepherd held up two
fingers. Then the Raja held up three fingers, but at this the dumb
man made signs of dissent and ran away as fast as he could. Then the
Raja laughed and seemed very pleased and praised the dewan for having
brought him such a clever man, and gave the dewan a rich reward.
The dewan was still at a loss to know what had happened, and begged the
Raja to explain what had passed between him and the shepherd. "When
I held up one finger," said the Raja "I asked him whether I alone
was Raja, and he by holding up two reminded me that there was God,
who was as powerful as I am. Then I asked him whether there was any
third, and he vehemently denied that there was. Thus he has read my
thoughts, for I have always been thinking that I alone am powerful,
but he has reminded me that there is God as well, but no third."
Then they all went their ways, and that night the dewan questioned
the dumb shepherd as to how he had been able to understand the Raja:
and the dumb man explained "I have only three sheep of my own, and
when I appeared before the Raja he held up one finger, meaning that
he wanted me to give him one of my sheep, and as he is a great Raja
I offered to give him two; but when he held up three ringers to show
that he wanted to take all three from me, I thought that he was going
too far and so I ran away."
By this lucky chance the dewan earned his reward from the Raja.
LXV. The Good Daughter-in-Law.
There was once a very rich man who had seven sons and the sons were
all married and lived with their father. The father was a miser: he
lived in the poorest manner in spite of all his wealth and hoarded
all his money. His eldest daughter-in-law managed the household and
she alone of the family did not approve of the miserly way in which
the family affairs were conducted.
One day a Jugi came to the house and asked for alms. The eldest
daughter-in-law happened to be away at the time, fetching water from
the stream. Those of the family who were at home flatly declined to
give the poor beggar anything and turned him away from the house. So
the Jugi went away, cursing them for their miserliness. On his way
he met the eldest daughter-in-law coming back with her jar of water
and she asked the Jugi why he seemed so angry. When she heard how he
had been treated, she at once besought him to return to the house and
explained that she was the housekeeper and that that was the reason
why none of the others had ventured to give him alms.
The Jugi returned with her and she gave him a _seer_ of rice to put
in his bag. At first the Jugi refused to take it, on the ground that
she was only giving it for fear of his curses but she assured him
that she never refused alms to anyone who begged. So the Jugi took
the rice and then asked what boon she would accept in return. The
woman at first said that she was in want of nothing, but, on the Jugi
pressing her, she said that she would like to be able to understand
the language of birds and beasts and to see the disembodied souls of
men. Then the Jugi took a feather from his bag and drew it across her
eyes and blew into her eyes and ears and she found herself possessed
of the powers for which she had asked. But before he left, the Jugi
told her that she must never reveal to any human being the boon he
had conferred on her, for if she did she would die.
Years passed and nothing happened but then it chanced that a Chamar
who lived at the end of the village died, and as he had been a good
and kind man his family wept bitterly at their loss. The woman saw the
spirit of the Chamar being taken away in a grand chariot and she also
wept for the death of so good a man. Her family became very suspicious
at her showing sorrow for the death of a stranger of another caste.
A few days later the miserly father-in-law died and the woman saw
three beings dragging him out of the house by his heels, and she
laughed to see him treated so for his sins. But the family were
shocked by her laughter and concluded that she was a witch and had
killed her father-in-law by her witchcraft; so after the funeral
they held a family council and called on the woman to explain why
she had laughed. She assured them that if she told she would die,
but they insisted and at last she told them of the boon conferred on
her by the Jugi, and what she had seen, and then she lay down upon
her bed and died.
LXVI. The Raja's Dream.
Once upon a time there was a Raja who had no children. So he and his
wife agreed that he should marry again. His second wife bore him two
sons, and they were very pleased that the Raja should have heirs and
all lived happily together. But after the two sons had been born,
the elder Rani also gave birth to a son. This caused discord in the
family, for the younger Rani had counted on her sons succeeding to
the Raja, but now she feared that the son of the elder Rani would be
preferred. So she went to the Raja and besought him to send away the
elder Rani and her son. The Raja listened to her and gave the first
wife a separate estate and a separate house and sent them away.
Time passed and one night the Raja had a dream, the meaning of which
he could not understand; he dreamt that he saw a golden leopard
and a golden snake and a golden monkey dancing together. The Raja
could not rest until he had found out the meaning of the dream,
so he sent for his younger wife and her two sons and consulted
them. They could give no explanation, but the younger son said that
he had a presentiment that his brother, the son of the elder Rani,
could interpret the dream. So that son was sent for, and when he
appeared before his father and heard the story of the dream, he said
"This is the interpretation: the three golden animals represent us
three brothers, for we are like gold to you. Thakur has sent this
dream in order that we may not fight hereafter; we cannot all three
succeed to the Raj and we shall assuredly fight if one is not chosen
as the heir. It is intended that whichever of us can find a golden
leopard, and a golden snake and a golden monkey and make them dance
before the people, he is your principal son and shall be your heir,"
The Raja was pleased with this interpretation and told his three sons
that he would give the Raj to whichever of them could find the three
animals by that day year.
The sons of the younger Rani went away, feeling that it was useless
for them to make any attempt to fulfil the conditions; even if they
got a goldsmith to make the animals, they would never be able to make
them dance.
But the other brother went to his mother and told her all that had
happened, and she bade him be of good courage and he would find the
animals; if he went to a Gosain who lived in the jungle, he would be
told what to do.
So the Raja's son set out, and after travelling for some days he found
himself benighted in a dense jungle. Wandering about, he at last saw
a fire burning in the distance, so he went to it and sat down by it
and began to smoke. Now the Gosain was sleeping near by and the smell
of the smoke awoke him, and he rose and asked who was there.
"O uncle, it is I."
"Really, is it you my nephew? Where have you come from so late
at night?"
"From home, uncle."
"What has brought me to your memory now? You have never paid me a
visit before. I am afraid that something has happened."
"You need not fear that, I have come to you because my mother tells
me that you can help me to find the golden leopard and the golden
snake and the golden monkey."
At this the Gosain promised to help the Raja's son to find the animals
and then put the cooking-pot on the fire to boil; and in it he put
only three grains of rice, but when it was cooked, they found that
there was enough to make a meal of. When they had eaten, the Gosain
said "Nephew, I cannot tell you what you have to do; but further in
the jungle lives my younger brother: go to him and he will tell you."
So when it was morning the Raja's son set out, and in two days he
reached the second Gosain and told him of his quest. The Gosain
listened to his story and put the cooking-pot on to boil and in it
threw two grains of rice, and this, when cooked, was sufficient for
a good meal. After they had eaten, the Gosain said that he could
not tell how the animals were to be found, but that he had a still
younger brother who could tell. So the next morning the Raja's son
continued his journey, and in two or three days he came to the third
Gosain and there he learnt what was to be done. This Gosain also put
the pot on to boil but in the pot he only put one grain of rice and
a bit of a grain, yet when cooked it was enough for a meal.
In the morning the Gosain told the Raja's son to go to a blacksmith
and have a shield made of twelve maunds of iron and with its edge so
sharp that a leaf falling on it would be cut in two. So he went to
the blacksmith and had a shield made, and took it to the Gosain. The
Gosain said that they must test it, and he set it edgewise in the
ground under a tree and told the Raja's son to climb the tree and
shake some leaves down. The Raja's son climbed the tree and shook
the branches, but not a leaf fell. Then the Gosain climbed up and
gave the tree a shake and the leaves fell in showers and every leaf
that touched the edge of the shield was cut in two. Then the Gosain
was satisfied that the shield was rightly made.
Then the Gosain told the Raja's son, that further on in the jungle
he would find a pair of snakes living in a bamboo house; and they
had a daughter whom they never allowed to come out of the house; he
must fix the sharp shield in the door of the house and hide himself
in a tree, and when the snakes came out they would be cut to pieces;
then, when the snakes were dead, he was to go to their daughter and
she would show him where to find the golden animals. So the Raja's
son set out and about noon he came to the home of the snakes, and he
set the shield in the doorway as the Gosain had said, and at evening,
when the snakes tried to come out of the house, they were cut to
pieces. When her father and mother were dead, the daughter came out
to see what had happened, and the Raja's son saw that she was very
beautiful. He went to her and began to talk and it did not take them
long to fall in love with each other. The snake maiden soon forgot
her father and mother, and she and the Raja's son lived together in
the bamboo house many days.
The snake maiden strictly forebade him to go anywhere to the west or
south of the house, but one day he disobeyed her and wandered away
to the west. After going a short distance he saw golden leopards
dancing, and directly he set eyes on them, he himself was changed
into a golden leopard and began to dance with the others. The snake
maiden soon knew what had happened, and she followed him and led him
back and restored him to his own shape.
A few days later, the Raja's son went away to the south and there he
found golden snakes dancing on the bank of a tank and directly he saw
them, he too became a golden snake and joined the dance. Again the
snake maiden fetched him back and restored him to his own form. But
again the Raja's son went out to the south-west and there he saw
golden monkeys dancing under a banyan tree, and when he saw them he
became a golden monkey; again the snake maiden brought him back and
restored him to human shape.
After this the Raja's son said that it was time for him to go back
home. The snake maiden asked why he had come there at all, and then
he told her all about the Raja's dream and said that as he had found
the animals he would now go home.
"Kill me first" said the snake maiden; "you have killed my parents
and I cannot live alone here." "No, I will not kill you, I will take
you with me" answered the Raja's son, and the snake maiden gladly
agreed. Then the Raja's son asked how he was to take the golden animals
with him, for so far he had only seen where they were. The snake
maiden said that if he faithfully promised never to desert her, nor
take another wife, she would produce the animals for him when the time
came. So he swore never to leave her and they set out for his home.
When they reached the place where the third Gosain lived, the Raja's
son said that he had promised to visit the Gosain on his homeward
journey and show him the golden animals; but he did not know what
to do, as he had not got the animals with him. Then the snake maiden
tied three knots in his cloth and bade him untie them when the Gosain
asked to see the animals. So the Raja's son went to see the Gosain,
and the Gosain asked whether he had brought the golden leopard and
snake and monkey.
"I am not sure" answered the other, "but I have something tied up in
my cloth," and he untied the three knots and found in them a clod of
earth, a potsherd and a piece of charcoal. He threw them away and went
back to the snake maiden, and asked why she had put worthless rubbish
in his cloth. "You had no faith" said she "if you had believed, the
animals would not have turned into the clod and the potsherd and the
charcoal." So they journeyed on, till they came to the second Gosain,
and he also asked to see the golden animals and this time the Raja's
son set his mind hard to believe and, when he untied the knots, there
were a golden leopard and a golden snake and a golden monkey. Then
they went on and showed the animals to the first Gosain, and then
went to the house where his mother lived.
When the appointed day came, the Raja's son sent word to his father
to have a number of booths and shelters erected in a spacious plain,
and to have a covered way made from his mother's house to the plain,
and then he would show the dancing animals. So the Raja gave the
necessary orders, and on the day fixed all the people assembled
to see the fun. Then the Raja's son set the three animals on the
ground and his wife remained hidden in the covered way and caused
the animals to dance. The people stayed watching all day till evening
and then dispersed, That night all the booths and shelters which had
been erected were changed into houses of gold; and when he saw this,
the Raja left his younger wife and her children and went and lived
with his first wife.
LXVII. The Mongoose Boy.
Once upon a time there was a Raja who had two wives. By his first
wife he had six sons, but the second wife bore only one son and he
was born as a mongoose. When the six sons of the elder wife grew up,
they used to jeer at their mongoose brother and his mother, so the
Raja sent his second wife to live in a separate house. The Mongoose
boy could talk like any man but he never grew bigger than an ordinary
mongoose and his name was Lelsing.
One day the Raja called all his sons to him and said that he wished,
before he died, to divide his property among them. But the sons said
that they had rather he did not do so then; they wished to go abroad
and see the world, and if he would give each of them some capital to
start, with, they would go abroad and trade and even if they did not
make much profit they would have the advantage of seeing the world.
So the Raja gave his six sons twenty rupees each to start business
with; but when Lelsing also asked for some money, his brothers jeered
at him and declared that he certainly could not go with them, for
he would only get eaten up by some dog. Lelsing made no answer at
the time but afterwards he went to his father alone and begged again
for some money. At last the Raja, though he scarcely believed that
Lelsing would really go out trading, gave him ten rupees.
The six brothers made everything ready and one morning set out on
their travels, without saying anything to Lelsing. But Lelsing saw them
start and followed after them, and as the brothers were resting in the
middle of the day they looked back and saw Lelsing galloping along to
overtake them. So they all travelled together for three or four days,
till they came to a great jungle and camped on its outskirts. There
they debated how long they should stay away from home and they decided
that they would trade for six months and then go back.
The next morning they entered the jungle, and as they travelled through
it, the six brothers managed to give Lelsing the slip, so that when
they came out of the forest they found themselves at Nilam bazar, but
Lelsing after wandering about for some time came out at Sujan bazar.
The six brothers bought sun-horses at Nilam bazar, and began to
trade. But Lelsing at Sujan bazar looked about for someone who would
engage him as a servant. No one would employ a mongoose, and Lelsing
was in despair, for he had very little money. At last he began to
enquire whether anyone would sell him a cheap horse, and learnt that
the horse market was at Nilam bazar; so he went to Nilam bazar and
there found his brothers trading, but he did not make himself known
to them. He tried to buy a horse but they were all too highly priced
for him, so at last he had to be content with buying a donkey for
three rupees and some articles to trade with.
When the six months expired, the brothers went home; and a little after
them came Lelsing, leading his donkey, his brothers laughed at him
but the Raja did not laugh; and Lelsing showed his father and mother
what profits he had made by his trading, which his brothers declined
to do. The Raja was pleased with Lelsing for this and declared that,
in spite of his shape, he was a man and a Raja. It only made his
brothers more angry with him to hear Lelsing praised.
Two or three years later there was a famine in the land. Lelsing
foresaw it and he dug a large hole in the floor of his house and buried
in it all the grain on which he could lay his hand. The famine grew
severe, but Lelsing and his mother always had enough to eat from their
private store. But his brothers were starving and their children cried
from want of food. Lelsing had pity on them and sent his mother with
some rice for them to eat. The Raja and his sons were amazed that
Lelsing should have rice to give away, and they went to his house
to see how much he had; but they found the house apparently empty,
for they did not know of the store buried in the ground. Puzzled
and jealous the brothers made up their minds to burn down Lelsing's
house. So one night they set fire to it, and it was burnt to ashes:
the store buried in the ground was however uninjured.
Lelsing put the ashes of his house into sacks and, loading them on
his donkey, set out to sell them. As he found no buyers, he rested for
the night under a tree by the road side. Presently a band of merchants
with well loaded pack-bullocks came to the place. "You must not camp
here" called out Lelsing to them "I have two sacks of gold coin here
and you may take an opportunity to steal them. If you are honest men,
you will go to a distance." So the merchants camped a little way off,
but in the middle of the night they came and carried off Lelsing's
sacks, leaving two of their own in their place, and hurried on their
way. In the morning Lelsing made haste to carry home the sacks which
had been changed, and when he came to open them he found them full
of rice and rupees. He sent his mother to borrow a measure from his
brothers with which to measure the rupees; and when he returned it,
he sent it to them full of rupees.
His brothers came running to know where he had found so much money. "I
got it by selling the ashes of my house" said Lelsing "and it is a
pity that I had only one house; if I had had more houses, I should
have had more ashes, and should have got more money still." On hearing
this the brothers at once made up their mind to burn their own houses,
and take the ashes for sale. But when they did so and took the ashes
for sale from village to village they were only laughed at for their
pains, and in the end had to throw away the ashes and come back empty
handed. They were very angry at the trick which Lelsing had played
on them and decided to kill him and his mother; but when they went
to the house to do the murder, Lelsing happened to be away from home
and so they were only able to kill his mother.
When Lelsing came home he found his mother lying dead. He placed the
body on his donkey and carried it off to burn it on the banks of the
Ganges. As he went, he saw a large herd of pack bullocks coming along
the road. He quickly propped the body of his mother against a tree
which grew by the road and himself climbed into its branches, and when
the bullocks came up he began to call out "Take care, take care: you
will have my sick mother trampled to death." But the drivers were too
far behind to hear what he said. When they came up, he climbed down
from the tree and charged them with having allowed their bullocks to
kill his mother. The drivers had no wish to face a charge of murder;
and in the end, to secure their release, they made over to Lelsing
all their bullocks, with the merchandise which they were carrying.
Lelsing threw his mother's corpse into some bushes, and drove the
laden bullocks home. Naturally his brothers wanted to know where he
had got such wealth from, and he explained that it was by selling
the dead body of his mother and he was sorry that he had only one
to dispose of. At once his brothers went and killed all their wives,
and took the corpses away to sell; but no one would buy and they had
to return disappointed.
Another trick that Lelsing played his brothers was this: he used to
mix rupees in the food he gave his donkey, and these passed out in
the droppings; and Lelsing took care that his brothers should know of
it. They found no rupees in the dung of their horses, and consulted
Lelsing as to the reason why. He told them that if they gave their
horses a blow with an axe while they ate their grain, they would
find rupees in the dung. The brothers did as they were advised,
but the only result was that they killed all their horses.
More and more angry, the brothers resolved to kill Lelsing by guile. So
they went to him and said that they had found a wife for him, and
would take him to be married. When the procession was ready, Lelsing
got into a palki. His brothers made the doors of the palki fast and
carried him off towards a deep river, into which they meant to throw
him, palki and all.
When they reached the river, they put the palki down and went to
look for a suitably deep pool. Lelsing found that he was outwitted,
and began to weep and wail. Just then a shepherd came by, driving a
flock of sheep and asked what was the matter. Lelsing cried out that
they were going to marry him against his will, but that anyone who
would take his place in the palki could marry his bride. The shepherd
thought that this would be a great opportunity to get a wife without
spending any money on the marriage, and readily changed places with
Lelsing, who drove away the flock of sheep. The brothers soon came
back and, picking up the paiki, threw it into the river and went home,
thinking that they had at last got rid of Lelsing.
But four or five days later Lelsing appeared, driving a large flock of
sheep. His brothers asked him, in amazement where he had come from,
"You threw me" said Lelsing "into a shallow pool of the river where
there were only sheep, but in the deeper parts there are cattle
and buffaloes as well. I can take you to fetch some of them if you
like. You take your palkis to the bank of the river,--for I cannot
carry you all--and then shut yourselves inside and I will push you
into the water." So the brothers took their palkis to the river side
and shut themselves in, and each called out "Let me have the deepest
place, brother." Then Lelsing pushed them in one by one and they were
all drowned. Then he went home rejoicing at the revenge which he had
taken for their ill treatment of him.
LXVIII. The Stolen Treasure.
Once upon a time three jars full of money were stolen from a Raja's
palace. As all search was fruitless the Raja at last gave notice that,
whoever could find them, should receive one half of the money. The
offer brought all the _jans_ and _ojhas_ in the country to try their
hand, but not one of them could find the treasure.
The fact was that the money had been stolen by two of the Raja's own
servants and it fell to the duty of these same two men to entertain
the _ojhas_ who came to try and find the money. Thus they were able
to keep watch and see whether any of them got on the right track.
Not far from the Raja's city lived a certain tricky fellow. From his
boyhood he had always been up to strange pranks, and he had married
the daughter of a rich village headman. At the time that the Raja's
money was stolen his wife was on a visit to her father, and after
she had been some time away, he went to fetch her home. However, on
his way, he stopped to have a flirtation with a girl he knew in the
village and the result was that he did not get to his father-in-law's
house till long after dark. As he stood outside he heard his wife's
relations talking inside, and from their conversation he learnt that
they had killed a capon for supper, and that there was enough for
each of them to have three slices of capon and five pieces of the
vegetable which was cooked with it.
Having learnt this he opened the door and went in. The household
was amazed at his arriving so late at night but he explained that he
had dreamt that they had killed a capon and were having a feast: and
that there was enough for them each to have three slices of capon and
five pieces of vegetable, so he had come to have a share. At this his
father-in-law could do nothing but have another fowl killed and give
him supper; he was naturally astonished at the Trickster's powers of
dreaming and insisted that he must certainly go and try his luck at
finding the Raja's stolen money.
The Trickster was taken aback at this, but there was no getting
out of it; so the next morning he set out with his father-in-law to
the Raja's palace. When they arrived they were placed in charge of
the two guilty servants, who offered them refreshments of curds and
parched rice. As he was washing his hands after eating, the Trickster
ejaculated, "Find or fail I have at any rate had a square meal,"
Now the two servants were named Find and Fail and when they heard
what the Trickster said, they thought he was speaking of them, and
had by some magic already found out that they were the thieves.
This threw them into consternation, and they took the Trickster aside
and begged him not to tell the Raja that they were the thieves. He
asked where they had put the money, and they told him that they had
hidden it in the sand by the river. Then he promised not to reveal
their guilt, if they would show him where to find the money when
the time came. They gladly promised and took him to the Raja. The
Trickster pretended to read an incantation over some mustard seed,
and then taking a bamboo went along tapping the ground with it. He
refused to have a crowd with him, because they would spoil the spell,
but Find and Fail followed behind him and showed him where to go. So he
soon found the jars of money and took them to the Raja, who according
to his promise gave him half their contents.
LXIX. Dukhu and His Bonga Wife.
Once upon a time there was a man named Bhagrit who had two sons named
Lukhu and Dukhu; and Lukhu used to work in the fields, while Dukhu
herded the buffaloes. In summer Dukhu used to take his buffaloes to
drink and rest at a pool in the bed of a dry river.
Now in the pool lived a _bonga_ girl and she fell in love with
Dukhu. So one day as he was sitting on the bank she appeared to
him in the guise of a human maiden. She went up to him and began to
talk, and soon they became great friends and agreed to meet at the
same place every day. As the girl was beautiful Dukhu fell deeply in
love with her and resolved to marry her, not knowing that she was a
_bonga_. One day the _bonga_-girl asked Dukhu to come home with her to
dinner, as he had stayed too late to go to his own house; but he said
he was too shy to do so, as her parents knew nothing about him. The
_bonga_-girl said "Oh no, I have told my people all about our love,
but if you won't come with me, stay here till I fetch you some rice;
it is too late for you to go home now; by the time you come back, the
buffaloes will have wandered off for their afternoon grazing." So Dukhu
agreed to wait while she brought the rice, and she got up and moved
away and disappeared behind some bushes, but a minute later Dukhu saw
her come smiling towards him with a pot of rice on her head; though
how she had fetched it so quickly he could not make out. She came to
him and put it down and told him to wash his hands and come and eat
his dinner. Dukhu asked her whether she had had her own dinner and she
said that she would go back and have that later. Then he proposed that
she should eat part of what she had brought; and she said that she
would do so, if he did not want it all. Dukhu resolved to test her,
for it would be a proof of true love, if she ate what he left over. So
after eating half the rice he said that he was satisfied and when she
found that Dukhu would eat no more she took what was left; then he was
satisfied that she really loved him and they began to talk of getting
married, and he told her that there would be no difficulty about it,
as his elder brother Lukhu was already married.
Then Dukhu asked the _bonga_ to take him to her house to see her
parents, so one day she led him into the pool and as he went in, the
water never came above his ankles; and somehow they passed along a
broad road until they came to the _bonga_ girl's house, and this was
full of tigers and leopards and snakes. At the sight of them Dukhu was
too frightened to speak; the _bonga_ said that she would not let them
touch him and offered him a large coiled-up snake to sit on; but he
would not sit down till she came and sat by his side. Then the _bonga_
father and mother asked their daughter whether this was her husband,
and when she said "yes" they came and made obeisance to him.
After they had had their dinner she took him back and he knew that
she was a _bonga_; but still he could not give her up. After this
the _bonga_ girl brought Dukhu his dinner every day on the bank of
the river, and he never went home for his midday-meal at all. His
brother's wife asked him why he did not come home and he said that
he did not get hungry and was content with some buffalo's milk; but
she did not believe him and resolved to watch and see who brought
him his dinner, but though she went and watched every day she only
saw him sitting alone, and the _bonga_ girl was invisible to her. But
one day she saw him disappear into the pool, and come out again.
When she told this at home, Dukhu's father, Bhagrit, got very angry
and decided to find out who made Dukhu disappear into the pool. He
resolved to bale out the water and find out what was at the bottom. So
he sent for men with baling baskets and began to divide off the water
with dams, but out of the water a voice was heard, singing;--
"Do not dam the water, father,
Do not dam the water, father,
Your daughter-in-law, the Ginduri fish is dying."
At this sound the workmen were frightened and stopped; but Bhagrit
made them go on, saying that whatever happened should be on his
head. And when the dams were finished, they began to bale out the
water; thereupon a voice sang:--
"Do not bale the water, father,
Do not bale the water, father.
Your daughter-in-law, the Ginduri fish is dying."
But they paid no attention and baled the water dry, and at the bottom
of the pool they found an enormous fish, for the _bonga_ girl had
turned into a fish. And they went to kill it, but the fish sang:--
"Do not hit me, father,
Do not hit me, father,
Your daughter-in-law, the Ginduri fish is dying."
Nevertheless they killed it and dragged it on to the bank. Then they
began to cut it up, and as they did so, it sang:--
"Do not cut me, father,
Do not cut me, father,
Your daughter-in-law, the Ginduri fish, is dying."
Nevertheless they cut it up, and Bhagrit divided the pieces among the
workmen, but they were too frightened to take any and preferred to
take the smaller fishes as their share. So he told Lukhu's wife to take
up the pieces and wash them: and as she did so the song was heard:--
"Do not wash me, sister,
Do not wash me, sister,
The Ginduri fish is dying."
And she was very frightened, but her father made her wash them and
then they took home the pieces and lit a fire and ground spices and
turmeric and heated oil and made ready to cook the fish. Then the
fish sang again:--
"Do not cook me, sister,
Do not cook me, sister,
The Ginduri fish, sister, is dying.'
But she nevertheless put the pieces into the pot to boil, when lo and
behold, out of the pot jumped the pretty _bonga_ girl. Then Bhagrit
said to his neighbours.--"You see by my persistence I have got a
daughter-in-law"--and she was duly married to Dukhu. At the wedding
the _bonga_ girl said "Listen, Father and all of you: I tell you and
I tell my husband--however much we quarrel let not my husband strike
me on the head, let him beat me on the body, I shall not mind; but
on the day that he hits me on the head: I shall depart for good."
After the marriage the family became very prosperous and their
crops flourished and every one liked the _bonga_ girl; but between
her and her husband there were constant quarrels and their friends
could not stop them. One day it happened that Dukhu smacked her
on the head. Then the _bonga_ girl began to cry and called her
father-in-law and mother-in-law and said "Father, listen, the father
of your grandson has turned me out, you must do your work yourselves
to-day;" then she took her child on her hip and left the house; and
they ran after her and begged her to return, but she would not heed;
and they tried to snatch the child from her but she would not give
it up, and went away and was seen no more.
LXX. The Monkey Husband.
One very hot day some children were bathing in a pool, when a Hanuman
monkey snatched up the cloth which one of the girls had left on the
bank and ran up a tree with it. When the children came out of the water
and went to take up their clothes, they found one missing, and looking
about, they saw the monkey in the tree with it. They begged the Hanuman
to give it back, but the monkey only said--"I will not give it unless
its owner consents to marry me."--Then they began to throw sticks
and stones at him but he climbed to the top of the tree out of the way.
Then they ran and told the parents of the girl whose cloth had been
stolen; and they called their neighbours and went with bows and arrows
and threatened to shoot the monkey if he did not give up the cloth,
but he still said that he would not, unless the girl would marry
him. Then they shot all their arrows at him but not one of them hit
him; then the neighbours said. "This child is fated to belong to the
monkey and that is why we cannot hit him." Then the girl's father
and mother began to cry and sang:--
"Give the girl her cloth,
Her silk cloth, monkey boy,"
and he answered
"If she consents to marry me I will give it:
If she consents I will put it in her hand."
And as he did not listen to the father and mother, her father's
younger brother and his wife sang the same song, but in vain; and
then the girl herself begged for it, and thereupon the monkey let
down one end of the cloth to her; and when she caught hold of it,
he pulled her up into the tree, and there made her put on her cloth
and ran off with her on his back.
The girl was quite willing to go with him and called out as she was
carried away: "Never mind, father and mother, I am going away." The
Hanuman took her to a cave in the mountains and they lived on
fruit,--mangoes or jack or whatever fruit was in season. The monkey
climbed the trees and shook the fruit down; but if the girl saw by
the marks of teeth that the monkey had bitten off any fruit, instead
of only shaking it down, she would not eat it, and pretended that
she had had enough; for she would not eat the leavings of the monkey.
At last the girl got tired of having only fruit to eat; and demanded
rice. So the monkey took her to a bazar, and leaving her on the
outskirts of the village under a tree, he went and stole some pots from
a potter and rice and salt and turmeric and pulse and sweetmeats from
other shops, and brought them to the girl. Then she collected sticks
and lit a fire and cooked a meal; and the monkey liked the cooked
food, and asked her to cook for him every day. So they stayed there
several days. Then the girl asked for more clothes and the monkey
tried to steal them too, but the shopkeepers were on the watch and
drove him away.
The girl soon got tired of sleeping under a tree so they went back
to the cave and the monkey gathered mangoes and jackfruit and told
her to go and sell them in the market and then she would be able to
buy cloth. But when she had sold the fruit, she stayed in the village
and took service with a well-to-do shopkeeper, and never returned to
the monkey. The monkey watched for her and searched for her in vain,
and returned sorrowfully to his hill; but the girl stayed on in the
village and eventually married one of the villagers.
LXXI. Lakhan and the Wild Buffaloes.
Once upon a time there was the only son of a widow, who used to tend
the sheep and goats of a Raja and his name was Lakhan. One day he
harnessed one of the goats to a plough and ploughed up a piece of high
land and sowed hemp there. The crop grew finely, but one night a herd
of wild buffaloes came and ate it all up; at this Lakhan resolved to
pursue the buffaloes and shoot them.
His mother did all she could to dissuade him but he made up a bundle
of provisions, and set off on his journey with a stick, and a bow
and arrows, and a flute made of the castor oil plant. He tracked the
buffaloes for some days and one evening he came to the house of an
old witch (hutibudhi) and he went up to it and asked the witch if he
might sleep there. She answered "My house is rough and dirty, but
you can choose a corner to sleep in; I can give you nothing more,
as I have not a morsel of food in the house." "Then," said he,
"I must go to bed hungry" and he lay down supperless.
In the middle of the night the witch began to gnaw at Lakhan's bow
and he heard her gnawing and called out "What are you munching? Give
me at bit," but she answered that it was only a little pulse which
she had gleaned from the fields and she had finished it. So Lakhan
said no more; but during the night the witch bit his bow to pieces
and when he saw this in the morning, he was very unhappy; for it was
useless to find the bison, if he had nothing to shoot them with.
So he went home and had an iron bow and arrows made by a blacksmith,
and then started off again. As before he came to the witch's house
and arranged to sleep there; and in the night the witch tried to
bite the bow to pieces, and Lakhan heard her crunching it and asked
her what she was eating: she said it was only a little grain which
she had gleaned. In the morning he found the bow all right, but the
witch's jaws were badly swollen. Lakhan laughed at her and asked what
was the matter and she said that she had toothache.
So Lakhan went on his way rejoicing and at last reached the place
where the wild buffaloes rested at night; he waited there and while he
waited he swept away all the droppings and made the place clean, and
then climbed up into a tree. At evening great herds of buffaloes came
to the place and they were so many that Lakhan was afraid to shoot. So
he stayed there, and every day he used to sweep the place clean, while
the buffaloes were away, and at night time hid himself in the tree.
The buffaloes determined to find out who their benefactor was, and they
chose an old cow to stay behind and watch. The next day the old cow
pretended that she was too weak to rise, and was left behind when the
herd went out to graze. Lakhan thought that she was too old to do him
any harm, so, although she was there, he got down from the tree and
cleaned up the place as usual, and even swept quite close up to the
old cow buffalo. In the evening the other buffaloes came back and the
old cow told them that it was a human being who swept their resting
place clean; and when they promised not to hurt him, she pointed out
the tree where Lakhan was. Then the buffaloes told him to come down
and swore not to kill him but to support him and keep him as their
servant. They told him to make a leaf bowl and they filled this with
their milk, as much as he could drink, and they arranged that he should
stay at the sleeping place and keep it clean, and when he wanted milk
he was to play on his flute and they would come at the sound.