and gave him more milk than he wanted so that he used even to bathe
himself in milk, and this made his hair grow very long.
One day a parrot belonging to a Raja saw him drying his long hair
in the sun and the parrot went to the Raja and told him that he had
found a husband for the Raja's daughter, with beautiful long hair;
but that no one could go near where he lived because of the wild
buffaloes; however the parrot undertook to bring him with the help
of a tame crow of the Raja's: so the crow and the parrot flew off to
the jungle, and they decided that the best way to entice Lakhan away,
was to carry off his flute. So when the cows gave him milk at noon and
he put down his flute, the crow seized it in his beak and flew away to
the top of a tree. When Lakhan missed the flute and saw the crow with
it, he began to throw stones but the crow flew off with it, keeping
just out of range; the crow flew from tree to tree and seemed to be
always just about to drop the flute and in this way enticed Lakhan on,
till they came to the Raja's palace and Lakhan followed the crow right
inside and they shut the door on him and made him marry the princess.
After some time his wife's brothers began to talk rudely about
him saying "I suppose this fellow is some poor orphan, without any
relations" and when Lakhan heard this he said that if they wanted
to see his cattle and buffaloes they must make a yard for them. So
the Raja gave orders for a large cattle yard to be made, and when it
was ready Lakhan took his flute and put his wife on the roof of the
palace and he himself climbed a tree and blew on the flute. Then the
wild buffaloes came running at the sound and gored to death every
one they met, and Lakhan and his wife became Raja and Rani.
LXXII. The Boy with the Stag.
Once all the men of a village went out to hunt in the hills and a
certain orphan boy wanted to go with them, and although they told him
that there was no water in the hills and he would die of thirst, he
insisted on starting. The first day they found no water, but the orphan
boy managed to endure it; but the second day he suffered so much, that
he begged the hunters to take him to water; they told him that there
was no water and they could not take him to any. So he set off alone
in the direction in which he understood there might be water, but he
soon lost his way in the jungle; so in despair he climbed a _meral_
tree and picked the fruit and threw it in all directions and to his
joy he heard one fruit splash as it fell into water; so he climbed down
and sure enough close to the tree he found a pool and drank his fill.
And then he saw a fawn stuck fast in the mud at the edge of the pool,
so he fixed an arrow to his bow and crept towards it, resolved to
catch it alive if he could, but if it ran away, to shoot it. The fawn
did not move and he managed to seize it and pulling it out of the mud,
he rubbed it clean and put his bow string round its neck and took it
home. The fawn grew up into a stag and he trained it to fight and
one day he matched it to fight with a goat. The agreement was that
the owner of the winner should take both the animals; in the fight
the stag was victorious, so the boy won the goat. Then he matched his
stag with a ram and a bullock and even with a buffalo, and the stag
was always victorious and in this way he soon grew rich. Seeing him
so rich one of the villagers gave him his daughter in marriage and
took him to live in his house, and so he lived happily ever afterwards.
LXXIII. The Seven Brothers and the Bonga Girl.
Once upon a time there were seven brothers who lived all alone in
the jungle, far from human habitations. None of them was married
and they lived on the game they killed. It chanced that a _bonga_
maiden saw the youngest brother and fell deeply in love with him. So
one day when all the brothers were away hunting, she placed in their
house seven nicely cooked plates of rice.
When the brothers returned in the evening from the chase, they were
astonished to find the rice waiting for them; all but the youngest said
that it must be some plot to kill them and refused to touch the food,
but the youngest wished to eat it. His brothers would not let him and
told him to throw the rice away; so he took it outside the house, but
instead of throwing it away, he ate up the whole seven plates full,
without letting his brothers know. But when they went to bed that
night, the youngest brother snored loudly, because he had eaten so
much, and thereby his brothers guessed that he had eaten the rice,
and they were very unhappy for they were sure that he was about to
die. However in the morning he was none the worse; so they went out
hunting as usual but the youngest brother suffered continually from
thirst, the result of overeating, and this convinced his brothers
that he had eaten the rice, though he denied it.
When they reached home that evening, they again found seven dishes of
rice placed ready for them. And that day the youngest brother and the
youngest but one ate; and the day after there was the rice again, and
the three youngest ate it. Then the eldest brother said: "To-morrow
I will stay behind and watch, and see who it is who brings the rice;
we have no servant, if I can catch the person who is so kind to us,
I will engage him as a cook for us, and we need have no more of this
mystery. Do you bring back my share of the game you shoot."
So the next morning the eldest brother stayed behind and hid himself
and watched. But he could not see the _bonga_, though she brought
the rice as usual; and when he told his brothers this, it was decided
that the second brother should stay behind the next day, and see if
he had better luck; and that day they all ate the rice, except the
eldest brother, who said that he would never eat it, until he knew
who brought it; so the next day the second brother watched but he
also could not see the _bonga_.
One by one all the brothers watched in vain, until only the youngest
one was left. Then they said to the youngest brother: "Now it is
your turn and if our friend does not show himself to you, we will
eat no more of his rice." So the next day the other brothers went
off to hunt and the youngest stayed at home; he did not trouble to
hide himself, but sat in the house making a bow. At noon he saw the
_bonga_ girl coming with the rice on her head, but he took no notice
and pretended to be looking down at something. Then the _bonga_ came
into the courtyard and put down the rice and looked about and said:
"I saw something like a man here, where has he got to?" and she
looked into the house and still the youngest brother kept silent;
then she spoke to him and asked whether he was ill, that he had not
gone hunting. He answered her that he was not ill, but had been left
to watch for the person who brought them rice every day. Thereupon
the _bonga_ went outside and brought in the rice and putting it down,
said: "It is I who do it. Come, wash your hands and I will give you
your dinner," but he said: "First tell me what all this means," and
she said: "It means that I want to live with you." He objected. "How
can I marry you when my brothers are not married?" She answered that
if he married her, they would soon find wives for his brothers. Then
she urged him to eat, but he said that if he ate one plateful, his
brothers would question him, so the _bonga_ girl went and brought an
extra dish and he ate that. And as they talked together, he soon fell
deeply in love with her, and promised to consult his brothers about
her living with them; but he saw a difficulty which would arise if
she married him, for his elder brothers would not care even to ask
her for water, and thus she would be really of very little use in the
house; so with some hesitation he proposed that she should marry the
eldest brother and then they could all talk freely to her; but the
girl would not agree to this and said that there would be no harm at
all in their talking to her, provided that they did not touch her,
and she would not mind giving his elder brothers water.
So they plighted their troth to each other, subject to the consent of
the brothers, and towards evening the _bonga_ girl left, promising
to return on the morrow. When the brothers returned they discussed
the matter and agreed that the youngest should marry the girl,
provided that she promised to keep house for them. So the next day
the girl came back and stayed with them; and they found wives for
the other brothers, and got cattle and buffaloes and broke up land
for cultivation and though the brothers did not altogether give up
hunting, they became rich.
A certain jogi found out where they lived and once every year he came
to ask for alms; one year he came just after the _bonga_ girl had
borne a child, so as she was doing no work, it was her sisters-in-law
who brought out food for the jogi. But at this he was displeased, and
said that he would only eat at the hands of the girl, who had given
him food the year before. They told him that she was in child-bed and
could not come out. Then he said: "Go and tell her that the Jhades Jogi
has come and wants her arm tassel." So she sent out her arm tassel
to him and he put it in his bag and got up and went away. Thereupon
the _bonga_ girl arose and left her baby, and followed him, and never
came back. At evening the brothers returned from hunting, and heard
what had happened. They were very distressed and told their wives
to look after the baby while they went in pursuit. They followed as
hard as they could and caught up the Jogi on the banks of a river;
then they tried to shoot him, but their arrows were powerless against
him, and he by magic turned the seven brothers into stones.
So the Jogi carried off the woman to his home. He was a Raja in his
own country and he had a big garden; and an old woman who looked
after it used to make garlands every day and bring them to the Rani,
and the Rani used to pay their weight in silver for them. In the
course of time the child who was left behind grew up and when he
used to play with his fellows at pitch and toss and there was any
dispute about the game his playmates would say "Fatherless boy,
you want to cheat!" So he asked his aunts whether it was true that
he had no father and they told him that the Jhades jogi had carried
off his mother, and how his father and uncles had gone in pursuit and
had never returned. So the boy decided to go in search of his mother
and he set off, and first he met some goatherds and he sang to them:--
"Ho, Ho, goatherds
Have you seen the Jhades Jogi
On this road?"
But they could tell him nothing. And then he met some shepherd boys,
and he sang to them:--
"Ho, Ho, shepherds,
Have you seen the Jhades jogi
On this road?"
But they could tell him nothing. Then he met some boys tending
buffaloes and he sang;--
"Ho, ho, buffalo herds,
Have you seen the Jhades jogi
On this road?"
But they could tell him nothing. Then he came to a thorn bush, with
a number of rags fluttering on it, and he sang:--
"Ho, ho, plum bush,
Have you seen the Jhades jogi
On this road?"
And the plum tree said "The Jhades jogi brought your mother this way,
and I did my best to stop them. If you don't believe me see the rags as
a proof." And he put his hand on the tree and went on. And then he came
to a squirrel which was chattering in a banyan tree, and he sang:--
"Ho, ho, squirrel,
Have you seen the Jhades jogi
On this road?"
And the squirrel said "I have been calling you since yesterday. The
jogi brought your mother this way, go on and you will overtake
them. And your father and uncles also came this road." The boy was
cheered by this news and he put his hand on the squirrel's back and
said "You are a fine fellow to give me this clue" and the marks of
his fingers were imprinted on the squirrel and that is why squirrels
have striped backs to the present day.
Then he went on and came to a river and he decided to sit and have
his lunch there; he did not know that his father and uncles had been
turned into stones in that very place, but as he sat and ate, his eyes
were opened and he saw the stones weeping, and he recognised them,
and he dropt a little food on each that they might eat, and pursued
his way, until he came to the Jhades jogi's kingdom, and he went to
the old woman who kept the Jogi's garden and asked to be allowed to
stay with her and help her to make the garlands.
One day when he had made a garland, he tied to it a ring which had
belonged to his mother. So when the old woman took the garland to the
Rani, the Rani wondered why it weighed so heavy, and when she examined
it she saw her own ring. Then she asked the old woman who had tied the
ring there, and when she heard that a strange boy had come, she at
once ran to him and recognised her own son.
Then they planned how they could kill the Jhades jogi and escape! The
mother agreed to find out in what lay the life of the Jogi. So she
questioned him and worried him till he told her that his life lay in a
certain pumpkin vine. Then the boy went and cut down the pumpkin vine,
but the Jogi did not die; then the Rani worried and worried the Jogi
till he told her that his life lay in his sword; then the boy stole
the sword and burnt it in a fire of cowdung, but still the Jogi did not
die; then his mother again worried and plagued the Jogi till at last he
told her the truth and said "In the middle of the sea is a cotton tree,
and on the tree are two Bohmae birds; if they are killed I shall die."
So the boy set off to the sea and on the road he met three old
women and one had a stool stuck to her back, and one had a bundle of
thatching grass stuck on her head, and the third had her foot stuck
fast to a rice-pounder, and they asked him where he was going, and he
told them, "to visit the shrine of the Bohmae bird": then they asked
him to consult the oracle and find out how they could be freed from
the things which were stuck fast to them, and he promised to do so.
By-and-bye he came to the sea and was puzzled as to how he was to
cross it. As he walked up and down the shore he saw an alligator
rolling about in pain with a swollen stomach; and when it saw the boy
it said "I am like to die with this pain in my stomach, how can I be
cured?" and the boy proposed that it should take him to the cotton
tree in the midst of the sea and there they might learn a remedy from
the Bohmae birds. The alligator agreed, so the boy got on its back
and was taken across the water. Then the boy sat at the foot of the
cotton tree and sang:--
"Come down, Bohmae birds,
I wish to consult the oracle."
But the birds were frightened and flew to the top of the tree. But as
he went on singing, they became curious and came down and asked what
was the matter, and he said "There are three old woman and one has a
stool stuck to her and one a bundle of grass and one a rice pounder;
how are they to be freed?" And they said "The first old woman never
asked visitors to her house to take a seat; if she does so in future
she will get rid of the stool,"--and as they said this they came
nearer--"and the second old woman, if she saw anyone with straws
sticking in their hair never offered to take them out. If she does
so in future she will be freed," and as they said this they came
nearer still--"and the third old woman would not allow widows and
orphans to use her rice pounder: if she does so she will be freed:"
and as they said this they came quite near, and the boy seized them
and broke their wings, and as he did so the Jogi's arms were broken;
then he snapped off their legs, and as he did so the Jogi's legs were
broken; and the birds screamed and the Jogi howled.
Then the alligator carried the boy back, and by the time it reached
the shore it was cured of its pain. On his way back the boy told the
three old women of what the birds had said; and when he got to the
Jogi's palace he twisted off the heads of the Bohmae birds and then
the Jogi's head fell to the ground.
Then he started homewards with his mother, carrying the birds and
their heads; and the Jogi's head came rolling after them. But he saw
a blacksmith's fire burning by the side of the road and he threw the
birds into the fire and the Jogi's head rolled into the fire and was
burnt, and that was the end of him. When they came to the river where
his father and uncles were turned into stones, he bathed in the river,
and then put a cloth over the stones and they were restored to human
shape; and they rubbed their eyes and said "We must have slept a long
time" and were astonished when they heard how the Jogi had turned
them into stones. Then they all went home and lived happily ever after.
LXXIV. The Tiger's Foster Child.
Once upon a time a Potter woman went to dig earth for making pots,
and while she was working she was prematurely delivered of a boy. And
she considered whether she should carry the child home, or the basket
of clay, but in the end decided to take the clay which was urgently
wanted, while she would doubtless have plenty more children in the
course of time. So she went away, leaving the baby in the pit. At
evening a tiger came by and heard the child crying and he took pity
on it and carried it away and he and his wife reared it.
As the child grew up they used to take him to the tigers' assembly. He
was not at all afraid of the tigers and understood all they said
and one day he heard them saying that the Pargana (tribal chief)
tiger was a great man-eater. At this he was very angry and set off to
look for the man-eater, without telling his foster parents. When the
Pargana tiger saw the boy coming he had just finished cleaning his
teeth, and he thought "This is lucky, here is my breakfast coming;"
but just as he was about to spring on the boy, the boy caught hold
of him and tore him to pieces.
The news of this exploit soon spread, and the tigers called a meeting
to consider the matter, and they told the foster father that he must
take steps to prevent the boy doing any such thing again. So the
tiger and tigress went home and told the boy that it was time that
he went back to his own people, as he had brought shame upon them;
the boy objected that men would not receive him, but they told him to
go as an orphan boy and beg in the villages till he found his mother.
So he went away and when he came to a village he sang:--
"My mother went to dig earth
And left me in the pit;
The tiger and the tigress of the jungle
Reared me--give me alms,"
And thus he went begging from village to village and one day he came
to the village where his father and mother lived. His mother heard
him a long way off and running to him knew him for her son. Then she
brought water and oil and turmeric and bathed him and anointed him,
and gave him new clothes and fed him on curds and parched rice. And
the villagers collected, and when they heard the stories of the mother
and son, they believed them and gave a feast in honour of the boy,
and took him into the village.
LXXV. The Caterpillar Boy.
Once there was an old woman who lived on the grain she could collect
from other people's threshing floors. One day as she swept up a
threshing floor she found a caterpillar among the paddy; she threw
it away but it came crawling back again; she threw it away again,
but it said "Do not throw me away, take me home with you and you
will prosper." So she let it stay and that day she found that she
collected a whole basketful of rice; at this she was delighted, and
put the caterpillar on the top of her basket and took it home. There
she asked the caterpillar what work it would do, and it said that
it would watch the paddy, when it was spread out to dry after being
boiled, and prevent the fowls and pigs from eating it.
So the caterpillar used to watch the paddy while the old woman went out
looking for food; and every day she brought back a full basket of rice,
and so she soon became rich. It got whispered about that the old woman
was so prosperous, because she had a caterpillar boy in her house.
One day the caterpillar said that he wanted to go and bathe, so he
went to the river and took off his caterpillar skin, and bathed, and
as he rubbed his head, one or two hairs came out, and these he wrapped
up in a leaf and set the packet to float down the stream. Lower down
the stream a princess was bathing and when she saw the packet come
floating down, she had it fished out, and when she opened it she saw
the hairs inside and she measured them and found them to be twelve
fathoms long; then the princess vowed that she would not eat rice,
till she found the man to whom the hairs belonged. And she went home
and shut herself in her room and refused to eat.
At this her father and mother were much distressed, and when they heard
what had happened the Raja said "Well she wants a husband, I will find
him for her." And he sent a notice throughout his kingdom saying that
he would give his daughter and half his kingdom to the man who had
hair twelve fathoms long. Everyone who heard this came with his sons
and the princess was told to look at them and choose whom she liked;
but none had hair twelve fathoms long, and she would take none of
them. Then the Raja asked whether everyone in the kingdom had come,
and he was told that there was a caterpillar boy, who lived with an
old woman, who had not come, so the Raja sent to fetch him, but he
said that he had no arms or legs and could not go; so they sent a
palki for him and he was brought in that. And when the palki was set
on the ground, the caterpillar boy rolled out and the princess said
that he should be her husband.
At this her father and mother were much ashamed and remonstrated with
her, but she persisted in her fancy, so the marriage took place. They
sent the newly married pair to live in a house at the outskirts of the
village and only one maidservant accompanied the princess. Every night
the caterpillar boy used to take off his skin and go out to dance,
and one night the maidservant saw him and told her mistress. And they
agreed to watch him, so the next night they pretended to go to sleep,
but when the caterpillar boy went out, they took his skin and burnt
it on the fire; and when he came back, he looked for it, but could
not find it. Then the princess got up and caught him in her arms,
and he retained his human form, and he was as handsome as a god.
In the morning the caterpillar boy and his wife stayed inside the
house, and the Raja sent some children to see what had happened, and
the children brought back word that there was a being in the house,
but whether human or divine they could not say. Then the Raja went
and fetched his son-in-law to the palace, but the caterpillar was not
pleased and said to his wife; "They treat me very well now that they
see that I am a man, but what did they do before?" However he stayed
in his father-in-law's palace.
Presently the Raja said that his kingdom was too small to give half of
it to his son-in-law, so he proposed that they should go and conquer
fresh territory, and carve out a kingdom for the caterpillar boy. So
they went to war and attacked another Raja, but they were defeated and
their army cut to pieces. Then the son-in-law said that he would fight
himself; so he drew his sword and brandished it and it flashed like
lightning and dazzled the eyes of the enemy and his shield clanged
on his thigh with a noise like thunder; and he defeated the other
Raja and took his kingdom and carried off all his wealth.
But the Raja thought that as his son-in-law was so strong, he would
one day kill him also and take his kingdom: so he resolved to find a
means to kill him. On their way back from the war they found no water
on the road and were distressed with thirst. One day they came to a
large tank and found it dry. So they made a sacrifice in the hopes
that water would flow. First they sacrificed goats and sang:--
"Tank, we are giving goats
Trickle out water!
Tank, we are giving goats
Flow, water!"
But no water came. Then in succession they sacrificed sheep, and oxen
and buffaloes, and horses and elephants, but all in vain: and after
each failure the Raja said "Son-in-law, it is your turn," and at
last his son-in-law said "Well, let it be me;" and he armed himself
and mounted his horse and went and stood in the middle of the tank,
and he sang:--
"Up to my knees the water, father,
The water, father, has oozed out."
And the Raja answered:--
"Do you, my son, remain standing there,"
And as he sang the water welled out up to his horse's knee and then
to its belly; and he still sang and the water rose to the horse's
back and then to his own waist, and to his chest, and he still sang,
and it reached his mouth and then he was completely submerged and
the tank was full. Then they all drank their fill and the Raja said
to his men "We have sacrificed this Saru prince. I will kill any of
you who tells my daughter what has happened" and they promised not
to tell, but they forgot that there were two dogs with them. And
when they got home each man's wife brought out water and welcomed
him and the princess asked where her husband, the Saru prince, was,
and no one answered; then she sang:--
"Oh Father, my father; How far away
Is the Saru Prince, the Gindu Raja?"
and the Raja answered
"My daughter, my darling, the Saru Prince, the Gindu Raja
Is very far away, amusing himself with hunting."
And she sang to them all, but no one told her anything, and then she
sang to the two dogs, who were named Chaura and Bhaura:--
"Oh Chaura, oh Bhaura,
How far away
Is the Saru Prince, the Gindu Raja?"
and they answered
"Oh sister, oh Rani!
Your father has sacrificed him
In the big tank."
Thereupon she began to cry, and every day she sat and cried on the
bank of the tank.
Now the two daughters of the Snake King and Queen had received the
Saru Prince as he disappeared under the water, and when they heard
the princess crying every day they had pity on her; she used to sing:--
"Oh husband! Oh Raja!
My father has sacrificed you
In the big tank.
Oh husband! Oh Raja,
Take me with you too."
So the daughters of the Snake King and Queen took pity on her and
told their frog chowkidar to restore the Saru Prince to his wife;
and the Prince and his wife went home together. When the Raja and
his wife saw their son-in-law again, they were terrified, but he said
nothing to reproach them. The princess however could not forgive them
for trying to kill her husband and always looked angrily at them;
then the Raja and the Rani took counsel together and agreed that
they had done wrong to the prince, and that he must be a magician;
and they thought that their daughter must also be a magician, as she
had recognised the prince when he was a caterpillar, and she could
not even see his long hair; so they were afraid and thought it best
to make over the kingdom to their son-in-law, and they abdicated in
his favour, and he took the kingdom.
LXXVI. The Monkey Nursemaid.
Once upon a time there were seven brothers who were all married and
each had one child and the brothers arranged to engage a boy to carry
the children about; so they sent for a boy and to see if he was strong
enough, they made a loaf as big as a door and they told the boy to take
it away and eat it; but he was not strong enough to lift it; so they
told him that he could not carry their children. Now a Hanuman monkey
was looking on from the top of a tree, and he came down and carried
off the loaf and ate it. Thereupon the mothers engaged him to carry
the children, and he used to carry the whole seven about on his back.
One day the children were running about the house and kept interfering
with their mothers' work, and the mothers scolded the monkey for not
keeping them out of the way. Then the monkey got sulky and carried
off the children to a distant hill and did not bring them back at
evening. So the mothers got very anxious, but the villagers laughed
at them for engaging a monkey, instead of a human being, to look
after the children.
When the mothers heard that the monkey had taken the children to
the hill, they were still more unhappy, for in the hill lived a
_rakhas_ (ogre) but it was too late to go in search of them that
night. Meanwhile the monkey for fear of the _rakhas_ had carried the
children up to the top of a palm tree and when the _rakhas_ spied
them out he tried to climb the tree, but the monkey drove him away
by throwing the palm fruit at him.
However the monkey was really in a fix, for he was sure that the Rakhas
would return, and he knew that if he let the children be eaten, their
parents would make him pay for it with his life. So he went off to a
blacksmith and bought sharp knives and tied them on to the trunk of the
palm tree: and when the Rakhas came back and tried to climb the tree,
he was so badly cut by the knives, that he fell down to the ground with
a thud and lay there groaning. Then the monkey cautiously descended and
the Rakhas begged him to cure his wounds; the monkey answered that he
would cure him if he gave him complete outfits for the children. The
Rakhas said that he would give them directly he was cured. So the
monkey applied some medicines and recited the following spells:--
"Rustling, rustling sesamum,
Slender sesamum:
Tell your grandfather,
Tell him of seven waist strings.
Rustling, rustling sesamum,
Slender sesamum:
Tell your grandfather,
Tell him of seven dhotis."
And in succeeding verses, he mentioned seven coats, seven pair of
shoes, seven hats, seven swords, seven horses, and seven hogs; and as
he repeated the incantation he blew on the Rakhas, and he was healed.
The Rakhas was to give the things mentioned in the incantation, but
when seven hogs were mentioned he objected and wished only to give one,
and in the end the monkey agreed to be content with two; so the Rakhas
departed and the next day appeared with seven waist strings, seven
dhoties, seven coats, seven hats, seven pairs of shoes, seven swords,
seven horses and two hogs. Then the monkey rigged the children out in
this apparel and mounted them on the horses; and the monkey and the
Rakhas mounted on the two hogs,--the Rakhas having faithfully promised
not to eat the children or their parents,--and they all set out for
the children's home. When the mothers saw the cavalcade come jingling
along, they were frightened at first; but when they recognised their
children they were delighted, and they gave the monkey and Rakhas a
good dinner. Then the monkey made over the children to their parents
and gave up his post as nurse, and left amid the good wishes of all.
LXXVII. The Wife Who Could Not Keep a Secret.
Once there was a man of the Goala caste, who looked after the cattle
of a rich farmer. One day a cow dropped a calf in the jungle without
the Goala knowing, and at evening the cow came running to join the
others, without the calf. When they got home the cow kept on lowing
and the master asked whether she had had a calf; the Goala had to
confess that the calf had been left in the jungle; the master scolded
him well, so he took a rope and stick and went out into the night.
But when he got to the jungle he could not hear the calf, so he
decided to wait where he was till the morning; he was too frightened
of wild animals to stay on the ground, so he climbed a tree leaving
the stick and rope at the foot of it. Soon a tiger smelt him out and
came to the place. Then the stick and the rope took council together
as to how they could save their master; the stick saw that it could
not see in the dark and so was powerless; so the rope agreed to fight
first, and it whirled itself round in the air with a whistling noise,
and the tiger hearing the noise and seeing no one, got frightened,
and thought that there was an evil spirit there; so it did not dare
to come very near and in the morning it took itself off.
Then the Goala saw the cow come to look for her calf, so he took up the
stick and rope and followed her. The cow soon found her calf and asked
it whether it had not been very cold and uncomfortable all night; but
the calf said "No mother, I put my foot in these four pots of rupees
and they kept me warm," The Goala heard this and resolved to see if
it were true; so he dug up the earth where the calf had been lying and
soon uncovered the rims of four pots full of money. But the Goala did
not care to take the money home for fear his wife should talk about
it; he resolved to see first whether his wife could keep a secret.
So he went home and told her to cook him some food quickly; she asked
why, and he said "The Raja has a tortoise inside him and I am going
to look at him." Then his wife said that she must fetch some water,
and she went off with the water pot. On the way she met several women
of the village, who asked her why she was fetching water so early, and
she said, "Because the Raja has a tortoise inside him and my husband is
going off to see it." In less than an hour the village was full of the
news, and the rumour spread until it reached the ears of the Raja. The
Raja was very angry and said that he would kill the man who started
the report, unless he could prove it to be true. So he sent messengers
throughout the country to trace back the rumour to its source.
One messenger found out that it was the Goala who had started the story
and told him that the Raja wanted to give him a present; so he gladly
put on his best clothes and went off to the Raja's palace. But the
Raja had him bound with ropes, and then questioned him as to why he
had told a false story. The Goala admitted that his story was false,
but explained that he had only told it to his wife, in order to see
whether she could keep a secret, because he had found four pots of
money. The Raja asked where the money was and the Goala said that he
would show it, but he wanted to know first how much of it he was to
have, for himself. The Raja promised him half; so the Goala led men
to the place and they dug up the money, and the Goala kept half and
became a rich man.
_Moral_. However friendly you are with a man do not tell him what is
in your heart, and never tell your wife the real truth, for one day
she will lose her temper and let the matter out.
LXXVIII. Sit and Lakhan.
Once upon a time there was a Raja who had two wives and a concubine,
but after giving birth to her second son, the first Rani died, and the
name of her elder boy was Sit and that of the younger was Lakhan. The
two children used to cry for their mother but the second Rani never
comforted them, for she hated them; it was the concubine who used to
bathe them and care for them, and their father loved them much. They
used to go to the place where their father sat administering justice
and Sit would sit behind his father and Lakhan in front. The second
Rani hated to see them with their father and would tell the concubine
to drive them away; but she refused and said that it was natural for
a father to love his motherless children; so the Rani kept silent,
but anger remained in her heart.
At last the Rani feigned to be ill and kept her bed; the Raja sent
for doctors and _ojhas_, and they came and saw that she could not
rise and they wanted to feel her pulse, but she would not let them
touch her; all she would do was to make the concubine tie a string
to her wrist and let the doctors hold the other end of the string;
so the doctors diagnosed the disease as best they could in this way
and gave her medicines, but she got no better.
After some days the Rani sent for the Raja and said "I am dying and
you don't care; these doctors' medicines do me no good; there is one
medicine only which will cure me." The Raja asked "What is it? I will
get it for you." Then the Rani made him swear by Kali that he would
give her the medicine she wanted, and he swore blindly. Then the
Rani said "If I eat the livers of Sit and Lakhan I shall get well,
and if not I shall die." At this request the Raja was struck dumb.
Now the concubine and a sipahi had overheard the conversation, and
when they heard what the Rani said, they withdrew and the concubine
went and told Sit and Lakhan of what was in store for them, and Sit
began to cry:--but Lakhan said "Do not cry brother, our father gave
us life, and it is for him to take it away if he will." So the Raja
came out from the Rani's room and when he saw the boys he wept and
he went to them and told them to eat their rice quickly, but they
would not eat; then he had their best clothes brought for them and
told them to put them on, but they refused. Then the Raja called for
_sipahis_ and the _sipahi_ who had been with the concubine, and two
others, came and the Raja told them with tears in his voice to take
the two boys away and let him never see them again, and he added so
that the boys should not hear "Bring me their livers." So the sipahis
took away the boys, and as they passed through the bazar they bought
them some sweetmeats. After walking for a time they came to a jungle;
then Sit said to the sipahis "How far are we to go? Do here what is
in your minds."
But the sipahis went on further; then Sit again told them to do what
they had to do. But the sipahis said "Do not be frightened, we shall
not kill you; we shall not obey your father; you must go away and
never come back here."
Now two dogs had followed them, attracted by the smell of the
sweetmeats, and the _sipahis_ caught and killed them and cut out their
livers, and they put them on a plate and took them to the Raja. The
Rani was delighted and had the livers cooked, and ate them and the
next day she rose from her bed.
Meanwhile Sit and Lakhan travelled on, and in a few days they had
eaten all their food and were very tired, and one evening they sat
down at the foot of a tree in the jungle intending to spend the night
there. In that tree a pair of birds had their nest. Every year they
hatched their eggs and reared the young: but every year when the young
were half grown, a snake came and devoured them. That year also there
were two young in the nest, and on the day that the boys rested at the
foot of the tree the snake had resolved to eat them. But when it came,
the boys heard it moving in the leaves and killed it.
At evening the old birds returned and the nestlings said that the boys
had saved their lives, and asked the old birds to give them some of
the food that they had brought. So they threw down two bits of food,
and it was ordained that whoever ate the first piece, should marry
the daughter of a Raja, and whoever ate the second piece, should
spit gold; and it chanced that Sit ate the first piece, and Lakhan
the second. The next morning the boys went on their way, and the Raja
of the country was looking for a husband for his daughter and he had
sent an elephant out with a flower in its trunk and it was arranged
that the princess should marry the man to whom the elephant gave the
flower. The elephant came upon Sit sitting by the side of the road,
while Lakhan was at a distance; and when the elephant saw Sit, it
went up and gave him the flower and the attendants mounted him on
the elephant and took him to the Raja and he married the princess.
A few days after the wedding Sit sat outside the palace with his wife,
and did not come in though it was evening, and the Raja asked him why
he was sitting outside in the dew. Then Sit began to cry and lament
his brother, singing--
"O Brother Lakhan, where have you gone?
O younger brother, where have you gone?"
Then the Raja heard how he had been separated from his brother,
and he promised to send men in search of Lakhan, and they found
him in the house of a potter; but the potter refused to give him up
until he had been paid for the days that he had entertained him; but
really the Potter had become wealthy, because whenever Lakhan opened
his mouth he spat gold, and he did not wish to lose such a valuable
guest. Then Sit mounted his horse and took five rupees and gave them to
the Potter in payment for his entertainment, and brought Lakhan home
with him. When they found that Lakhan spat gold they were very glad
to keep him and the Raja gave him his second daughter in marriage;
and Lakhan made the whole family rich.
Meanwhile Sit and Lakhan's father had fallen into poverty; his country
had been conquered and his army destroyed and he and his wife wandered
about begging; when the boys heard this, they sent for the concubine
who had been good to them, and she came and lived with them, but they
did not forgive their father and step-mother.
_Moral_. There is no controlling a second wife and they are hard to
get on with. First wives are the best, they are obedient and agree
with the opinions of their husband.
LXXIX. The Raja Who Went To Heaven.
Once upon a time there was a Raja, who had many water reservoirs
and tanks, and round the edges he planted trees, mangoes, pipals,
palms and banyans; and the banyan trees were bigger than any. Every
day after bathing the Raja used to walk about and look at his trees,
and one morning, as he did so, he saw a maiden go up to a banyan tree
and climb it, and the tree was then carried up to the sky, but when
he went in the evening he saw the tree in its place again; the same
thing happened three or four days running. The Raja told no one, but
one morning he climbed the banyan tree before the maiden appeared, and
when she came, he was carried up to the sky along with the tree. Then
he saw the maiden descend and go and dance with a crowd of Gupinis
(Divine milk maids) and the Raja also got down and joined in the dance.
He was so absorbed in the dance that he took no note of time; so
when at last he tore himself away, he found that the banyan tree had
disappeared. There was nothing to be done, but stay where he was;
so he began to wander about and he soon came to some men building a
palace as hard as they could. He asked them for whom the palace was
being built, and they named his own name. He asked why it was being
built for him, and they said that Thakur intended to bring him there,
because he was a good ruler, who did not oppress his subjects and
gave alms to the poor and to widows and orphans.
There was no difference between night and day up in the sky, but
when the Raja came back, he found that the banyan tree was there,
and he climbed up it and was carried back to earth by it. Then
he went home and told his people that he had been on a visit to a
friend. After that the Raja used to visit the banyan tree every day,
and when he found that it did not wither although it had been taken
up by the roots, he concluded that what he had seen was true and he
began to prepare for death. So he distributed all his wealth among
his friends and among the poor; and when his officers remonstrated
he made them no answer. A few days later he died, and was taken to
the palace which he had seen being built.
It is said that what you give away in this world, you will get back
in the next; there you will get good wages for what you have done in
this life.
LXXX. Seven-Tricks and Single-Trick.
Seven-Tricks and Single-Trick were great friends, but some one
told Seven-Tricks that Single-Trick was the cleverer man of the
two. Seven-Tricks pondered over this but felt sure that his very name
showed that he was the cleverer; so one day he went to pay a visit
to Single-Trick, and put the matter to the test When Single-Trick saw
him coming, he called a pretty girl and hid her inside the house and
told his wife to put the rice on to boil. Seven-Tricks arrived and was
pressed to stay for the midday meal; he accepted and Single-Trick's
wife brought them water to wash their hands and when they sat down,
helped them to the rice.
As they ate, Single-Trick pretended to get very angry and began to
abuse his wife "You lazy slattern, why have you put no salt in the
rice? I will beat you for this, I will beat you into a girl again." So
saying he caught up a club and gave her a blow with it, and pushed her
into the house and pretended to continue the beating inside; and then
came out dragging with him the pretty girl whom he had hidden. When
Seven-Tricks saw this transformation he made up his mind to steal the
club, and try whether he could beat his own wife into a girl again. So
when he went home he secretly took away the club, and the next day when
his wife was giving him his dinner he pretended to get angry with her
for not putting salt in the rice, and snatching up the club gave her
a good pounding with it, and drove her into the house and then pulled
her forth again; but to his dismay she did not look a day younger than
before. Seven-Tricks was puzzled but could only opine that he had not
beaten the woman hard enough, so he beat her till her bones cracked;
but still there was no result and he had to give up in despair.
After a time Seven-Tricks paid another visit to Single-Trick, and
Single-Trick invited him to come hunting in the forest; before they
started Single-Trick told his wife to go and buy a hare and keep
it in the house. The two friends set off, and after a time they
put up a hare; Single-Trick had brought with him his dog, which
was a shocking coward and no good at hunting; when they saw the hare
Single-Trick loosed the dog calling "After it, after it, drive it right
home." And the coward of a dog, directly it was free, put its tail
between its legs and ran straight home. "Come along home now; that
is a splendid sporting dog, it is sure to have taken the hare home;"
so saying Single-Trick set off back, and when they arrived he asked
his wife whether the dog had brought home a hare. "Yes", said she,
"I have put it in that room" and promptly produced the hare that she
had bought. Seven-Tricks at once resolved to possess himself of a dog
that brought the game home by itself, and the next night he came and
stole it, and in the morning took it out hunting. He soon started a
hare and loosed the dog after it; the dog ran straight away in the
direction of the house, and Seven-Tricks followed at his leisure,
and asked his wife where the dog had put the hare. "Hare," said she
"there is no hare, the dog came running back alone." "Perhaps I was
too slow and gave him time to eat the hare," thought Seven-Tricks;
so he took it out again and when he loosed it after a hare, he ran
after it as fast as he could to see what it did. Everyone laughed to
see the hunter chasing his dog, instead of his game. When he got to the
house of course there was no hare, and so he gave up trying to hunt.
Another day he paid a visit to Single-Trick and Single-Trick asked him
to come out fishing. Before they started Single-Trick told his wife to
buy some live _codgo_ fish and keep them ready in the house. When they
came to a pool, Single-Trick at once let down his line and soon got
a bite from a _codgo_ fish; as he pulled it out he threw it, rod and
all, behind him in the direction of his home and said to Seven-Tricks
"_Come_ along home, I expect that all the fish in the pool will have
reached home by now," Directly they got to the house Single-Trick
asked his wife whether the fish had come. "Yes", said she, "I have
put them all in this basket" and brought out a basket of live _codgo_
fish. Seven-Tricks at once made up his mind to steal the wonderful
fishingrod, so he came back that evening and managed to abstract it,
and next morning went fishing with it. Directly he had caught a _codgo_
fish, he threw it over his shoulder and went off home and asked whether
the fish had arrived, but he only got laughed at for his folly. Then
he was convinced that Single-Trick was more than a match for him,
and he would have nothing more to do with him.
LXXXI. Fuljhari Raja.
There was once a Raja named Fuljhari and he was childless; he and his
wife made pilgrimages to many shrines but all in vain, the wished-for
son never arrived. One day a Jugi came to the palace begging and
the Raja asked the holy man to tell him how he could have a son;
then the Jugi examined the palms of their hands but having done
so remained silent. The Raja urged him to speak but the Jugi said
that he feared that the reply would be distasteful to the Raja and
make him angry. But the Raja and his wife begged for his advice,
and promised to do him no harm whatever he said. At last the Jugi
explained that they could never have a child unless they separated,
and the Raja went right away and the Rani lived with another man;
with this he took his departure.
Then the Raja and his wife consulted together and the Raja proposed to
take the Jugi's advice, as he felt that he could not leave his kingdom
without an heir; so he said that he would go away to a far country,
on pretence of visiting a distant shrine; but the Rani feared that
if, on his return, he found that she had borne a child, he would
kill her or at least turn her and the child out to beg their bread;
but the Raja assured her that he would never treat her in that way
and after making his final arrangements he went off to a far country.
There he stayed some years and in the meanwhile the Rani had five sons;
at last she wrote to her husband to come home and directly he reached
the palace he bade the Rani to bring the boys to him, that he might
embrace and acknowledge them; so they were brought and he took them
one by one in his arms and kissed them, and he saw that they were
all the images of himself. But when he kissed the youngest child he
was suddenly struck with blindness. Then he rose in wrath and ordered
the child to be taken away and killed; but the mother had pity on it
and persuaded the soldiers not to kill it but to convey it away to
a far country.
The child's name was Lita and he grew up and was married to the
daughter of the Raja of the land and lived in his father-in-law's
house. But Lita was always tormented by the thought that he had been
the cause of his father's blindness; although he would not tell anyone
of his sorrow, he used to get up when every one was asleep and spend
the night in tears. One night his wife surprised him weeping and
begged him to tell her what was the matter. She pressed him until he
told her how, immediately his father kissed him, he had gone blind
and how his mother had smuggled him out of the country and saved his
life, but how the recollection of the harm he had done tormented him
and how he longed to be able to return to his own country and restore
his father's sight. His wife on hearing this at once began to comfort
him and assured him that she would help him to obtain a medicine which
would restore his father's sight. In a range of mountains was a Rakhas
who had a daughter who was buried in a heap of Fuljhari flowers; if
Lita went and could persuade the Rakhas to let him marry his daughter,
he could then get a Fuljhari flower and if that were rubbed on his
father's eyes his sight would be restored.
So Lita set out towards the mountains and sat down by the road side
at their foot. Presently the Rakhas and his wife came by; the wife
asked him what he was sitting there for; he said that he was looking
out for some one who would have him to come and live in his house as
a son-in-law. The Rakhas paid no heed to this and proposed to eat up
Lita at once, but his wife begged him to spare the young man and take
him home and marry him to their daughter, who was very lonely. The
Rakhas gave way and they took Lita to the cavern in which they lived
and there was their daughter buried under a heap of flowers. They
made her get up, and told her that they had brought a husband for her.
Lita and his bride lived happily together and were soon deeply
in love with each other, and after a time he told her about his
father's blindness and how he wished to try to cure it with one of
her flowers. She readily agreed to help him; so the next day she
went to her father and said that she wished to pay a short visit to
her husband's home; the Rakhas consented and she and Lita took their
leave. She told Lita that when the Rakhas offered him a farewell gift,
he should take nothing but a hair from the Rakhas' head; this he did
and they tied the flower and the hair up carefully and set off to the
home, where Lita's first wife was awaiting them. She told her parents
that Lita had come back with one of his sisters, and that she now
wished to go back with them on a visit to their home. Her parents
assented and the three of them set out and one evening reached the
outskirts of the village in which Lita had been born. They camped
under a roadside tree, but in the middle of the night they took out
the Rakhas' hair and said to it "Make us a golden palace" and at
once a golden palace sprang up. Next morning all the residents of
the village collected to see the wonderful new palace, and Lita told
them to bring their Raja and he would cure him of his blindness. So
they went and fetched the old blind Raja and directly Lita touched
his eyes with the flower his sight was restored. Then they wept over
each other and told all that had happened. And the old Raja and his
wife came and lived with Lita and his wives and the other brothers
stayed on at their old home; and they all lived happily ever after.
LXXXII. The Corpse of the Raja's Son.
There was once a blacksmith named Chitru who had a very pretty
wife; and the woman attracted the attention of the son of the
Raja. Chitru suspected that his wife was unfaithful to him, and one
night he pretended to go away from home, but really he lay in wait
and surprised the prince visiting his wife; then he sprang out upon
him and strangled him.
But when he found himself with the corpse of the prince on his hands,
he began to wonder what he should do to avoid being convicted of the
murder. At last he took up the corpse and carried it to the house
of two dancing girls who lived in the village, and laid it down
inside. Soon after the dancing girls woke up and saw the corpse
lying in their room; they at once aroused their parents, and when
they found that it was the corpse of the Prince, they were filled
with consternation.
Now Chitru had a reputation for cunning, so they decided to send
for him quietly and take his advice. When he came they begged him to
save them; he pretended to be much surprised and puzzled and at last
undertook to get them out of their difficulty, if they paid him one
hundred rupees; they gladly paid him the money, and then he took up
the corpse and carried it off and laid it down on the verandah of the
house of a _mahajan_ who lived near. Soon after some one came out of
the house and found the corpse; at once they were all in consternation
and sent for the clever Chitru to help them out of their difficulty.
Chitru refused to lift a finger unless he were paid two hundred rupees,
and when he had got the money he took up the corpse and put it in a
sitting position in a little patch of _brinjals_ which a Koeri had
planted by his front door. At dawn the Koeri came out and saw what
he thought was a thief stealing his brinjals, and promptly threw
a stone at the man. The corpse fell over, and when the Koeri went
to see who it was he found the dead body of the Raja's son. As it
was daylight, he had no opportunity of making away with the body,
so he was arrested and sent for trial. He was acquitted, because he
had acted unwittingly, but he was too frightened of the Raja to stay
any longer in the village and absconded as soon as he could.
Chitru, who was the real murderer, made his wife promise to keep
silence by threats and was three hundred rupees the better for the
business.
LXXXIII. The Sham Child.
There was once a Raja who had two wives and each Rani had a maidservant
who was the Raja's concubine; but none of them had any children. In
the course of time the ladies began to quarrel and when they appealed
to the Raja, he found that the elder Rani was to blame and turned
her out of the palace, and sent her to live in a palm leaf hut on
the outskirts of the town. Her faithful maidservant followed her,
and the two supported themselves by begging. But they barely got
enough to keep body and soul together.
After a few days the maidservant asked permission of her mistress to
play a trick on the Raja, by which they should at least get sufficient
food. The Rani assented and the maidservant went off to the Raja
and told him that the wife whom he had turned out was five months
with child, and that it was a disgrace that one who was to be the
mother of his heir should have to beg her bread. On hearing this the
Raja somewhat relented towards the Rani, and he ordered money to be
sent her sufficient to provide her with food, and had a proper house
prepared for her. When the proper time arrived, the maidservant went
to the Raja and told him that a son had been born; at this joyful
news the Raja became still more generous and told the maidservant
that she was free to take whatever was wanted for the child.
This suited the maid and her mistress excellently; so long as they
could keep up the deception they lived in comfort; when the child
was supposed to have grown old enough to run about, they asked for
the price of some anklets with bells on them and bought a pair,
and whenever the Raja passed by the house in which the Rani lived,
the maidservant made her mistress rattle the anklets, and then went
outside and told the Raja to listen to the anklets tinkling as his son
ran about the house. The Raja would tell the maidservant not to let the
boy run about too much, lest he should fall and hurt himself; then she
would hurry inside and tell the Rani to stop the jingling, and then
come and tell the Raja that the boy was resting in his mother's lap;
but for all this the Raja was never given an opportunity of seeing
his son.
However as time went on the Raja chose a bride and arranged for
his son's wedding; the bride's friends did not come to inspect the
bridegroom; a day was fixed right off for the wedding. As this day drew
near, the Rani became more and more frightened, for it seemed that her
deception must at last be discovered, and she would probably be put
to death. But the maidservant encouraged her and promised to devise
a plan; so when the day came for them to start for the bride's house
she made a paste of ground mowah flowers and out of this fashioned
an image of a child; and when the procession started off, with the
Raja in a palki, and drummers, and palki-bearers, the maidservant
was also carried in a palki and pretended that she was holding the
child. Off they started and as it was too far to go in one day,
they stopped for the night at a bazar, where there was the shrine
of a saint. At midnight the maidservant arose and went to the shrine
and called to the spirit (bonga) which dwelt there, and said that he
must grant her a boon, and if not it would be the worse for him; the
spirit asked what she wanted and she showed the paste image and said
that she was going with the procession to marry her son, and somehow
on the way he had been turned into paste; if the spirit would not
give her another son, she would spit on him and curse him. The spirit
saw that she meant what she said, and for fear of being spat upon,
he produced a boy from somewhere and gave him to her. The maidservant
was delighted at her success and bowed down three times in reverence
to the spirit and took away the boy and put him in her palki.
The next morning they rose and reached the bride's house and
the wedding took place in due form. As they were returning, the
maidservant sent on two men to warn her mistress of what had happened
and to tell her to get ready a feast. So when they reached home there
was a feast ready and the bride's friends were duly entertained and
dismissed. Afterwards the Raja fell out with his second wife and left
the palace where she lived and came and stayed with the elder Rani,
whom he had formerly turned out.
LXXXIV. The Sons of the Kherohuri Raja.
The Kherohuri Raja had five sons, and he made up his mind that he would
only marry them to five sisters. So he sent out Brahmans and Jugis to
search the world to find a Raja with five unmarried daughters. And
at the same time the Chandmuni Raja had five marriagable daughters,
and he made up his mind that he would marry them to five brothers;
he did not care what their rank in life was, but he was determined
to find a family of five brothers to marry his daughters. And he
also told all the Brahmans and Jugis who wandered about begging,
to look out for a family of five unmarried brothers.
One day it chanced that the emissaries of the Kherohuri Raja and
those of the Chandmuni Raja met at a river; both parties were resting
after taking their midday meal and as they smoked they fell into
conversation, and soon found that their meeting was most fortunate;
each party had found the Tery thing they wanted, so they all set off
to the palace of the Kherohuri Raja in order that the Chandmuni Raja's
messengers might see the young men.
The Kherohuri Raja ordered them to be hospitably entertained and food
to be set before them; they however refused to eat anything till they
had seen the five bridegrooms. The five young men were then introduced
and as they appeared to be sound in wind and limb and in all respects
satisfactory, there was no further obstacle to the entertainment. The
next day the Kherohuri Raja sent out officials to visit and inspect the
daughters of the Chandmuni Raja, and as their report was satisfactory,
nothing remained but to fix the day for the wedding.
When the time came for the bridegrooms and their retinue to set off
to the country of the Chandmuni Raja, they and their servants and
followers all started, so that no one was left at home but their
mother. After they had gone a little way the eldest prince stopped
them and said that they could not leave their mother all alone, what
would she do supposing some sudden danger arose? The others agreed
that this was so, but the difficulty was to decide who should stay;
not one of the other brothers would consent to do so. So at last the
eldest brother said that he would stay, and he gave them his shield
and sword and told them to perform his marriage for him by putting
the vermilion on the bride's forehead with his sword.
When they reached the home of the Chandmuni Raja they proceeded at
once to perform the vermilion ceremony, beginning with the eldest
daughter; but when the sword was produced and she was told that she
must go through the ceremony with the sword, as her bridegroom had not
come, she began to cry and make a great to-do. Nothing would induce
her to consent. "Why was her husband the only one who had not come
in person? he must be blind or lame or married;" this resistance put
all the others into a difficulty, for the younger sisters could not
be married before the elder. At last after much talking her father
and mother persuaded the eldest daughter to go through the ceremony;
the women put vermilion on the sword and with the sword the mark
was made on the bride's forehead; and then the younger sisters were
married and after a grand feast the whole party set out for the palace
of the Kherohuri Raja.
On the way they were benighted in the midst of a great jungle twelve
_kos_ wide, and the palki bearers declined to go any further in
the dark, so they had all to camp where they were. In the middle of
the night, suddenly sixteen hundred Rakhases descended on them and
swallowed up the whole cavalcade, elephants and horses and palkis and
men. In this danger the eldest princess who had been married to the
sword prayed to Chando saying "O Chando! I have never yet set eyes
on my husband; he is not with me here. I pray thee carry my palki in
safety up into the sky." And Chando heard her prayer and lifted her
palki up into the air and preserved her, but all those who were left
on the ground were swallowed up by the Rakhases; when the day dawned
not one was to be seen.
As the princess from mid air gazed on this melancholy spectacle, a
parrot came flying over and she called to it and begged it to take a
letter for her to her husband in the palace of the Kherohuri Raja. The
parrot obeyed her behest, and when the eldest prince read the letter
and learned what had happened, he made a hasty meal and saddled his
horse and was ready to start; but as it was nearly evening he thought
it better to wait till the next day.
Very early the following morning he set out and when his bride saw
him come riding along she prayed to Chando that if it were really her
husband the palki might descend to the ground; it immediately sank, and
the bride and bridegroom met; then she told him all that had happened
and gave him the shield and sword that he had sent to represent him at
the marriage; with these in his hands he waited and when at nightfall
the Rakhases returned, the Prince slew everyone of them with his
sword; and as he killed them the Rakhases vomited up the elephants,
horses and men that they had eaten. Then his wife told the prince to
dip a cloth in water and wring it out over the dead and as the water
fell on them they all became alive again, elephants, horses and men.
But his brothers far from being grateful to him for having restored
them to life, took counsel together saying. "Now that he has delivered
us from this danger, he will think that he has a claim on us and will
treat us as his servants; let us cut open his stomach and then the
Rakhas will eat him." So they turned on him, cut open his stomach,
and went their ways. Then the wounded prince told the palki-bearers
to carry his bride back to her father's house.
When they appeared before the Chandmuni Raja, he upbraided them for
not having brought the prince too, to try if he could not have been
healed. Meanwhile the prince lay in the jungle groaning for a whole
day and night; then Chando and his wife heard his cries and came
down and told him to push in his entrails and when he had done so,
they gave him a slap on his stomach and he became whole again. Then as
he was afraid to return to his home where his brothers were, he went
begging to his father-in-law's house; as he came to it, his wife said
to her sister-in-law that the beggar seemed to be like her husband,
so she went to him and they recognised each other and he was taken in
and well treated and lived there many years. In the end he was seized
with a desire to go and see his old mother, and, his wife consenting
to go with him, they set off to his father's home; when his brothers
saw him come, they were filled with fear and made him Raja over them
and they became his servants and he lived in prosperity for the rest
of his life.
LXXXV. The Dog Bride.
Once upon a time there was a youth who used to herd buffaloes; and as
he watched his animals graze he noticed that exactly at noon every
day a she-dog used to make its way to a ravine, in which there were
some pools of water. This made him curious and he wondered to whom
it belonged and what it did in the ravine; so he decided to watch,
and one day when the dog came he hid himself and saw that when it
got to the water, it shed its dog skin and out stepped a beautiful
maiden, and began to bathe; and when she had finished bathing she put
on the skin and became a dog again, and went off to the village; the
herdboy followed her and watched into what house she entered, and he
enquired to whom the house belonged. Having found out all about it,
he went back to his work.
That year the herdboy's father and mother decided that it was time
for him to marry and began to look about for a wife for him; but he
announced that he had made up his mind to have a dog for his wife
and he would never marry a human girl.
Everyone laughed at him for such an extraordinary idea, but he could
not be moved; so at last they concluded that he must really have
the soul of a dog in him, and that it was best to let him have his
own way. So his father and mother asked him whether there was any
particular dog he would like to have for his bride, and then he gave
the name of the man into whose house he had tracked the dog that
he had seen going to the ravine. The master of the dog laughed at
the idea that anyone should wish to marry her, and gladly accepted
a bride's price for her; so a day was fixed for the wedding and the
booth built for the ceremony and the bridegroom's party went to the
bride's house and the marriage took place in due form and the bride
was escorted to her husband's house.
Every night when her husband was asleep, the bride used to come out
of the dog's skin and go out of the house; and when her husband found
out this, he one night only pretended to go to sleep and lay watching
her, and when she was about to leave the room he jumped up and caught
hold of her and seizing the dog skin, threw it into the fire, where
it was burnt to ashes, so his bride remained a woman, but she was
of more than human beauty. This soon became known in the village and
everyone congratulated the herdboy on his wisdom in marrying a dog.
Now the herdboy had a friend named Jitu and when Jitu saw what a
prize his friend had got, he thought that he could not do better
than marry a dog himself. His relations made no objection and a
bride was selected and the marriage took place, but when they were
putting vermilion on the bride's forehead she began to growl; but
in spite of her growling they dragged her to the bridegroom's house,
and forcibly anointed her with oil and turmeric; but when the bride's
party set off home, the dog broke loose and ran after them; then
everyone shouted to Jitu to run after his bride and bring her back,
but she only growled and bit at him, so that he had at last to give
it up. Then everyone laughed at him so much that he was too ashamed
to speak, and two or three days later he hanged himself.
LXXXVI. Wealth or Wisdom.
Once upon a time there were a Raja and a rich merchant, and they
each had one son. The two boys went to the same school and in the
course of time became great friends; they were always together out of
school hours; the merchant's son would take his meals at the Raja's
palace or the Raja's son would eat with his friend at the merchant's
house. One day the two youths began a discussion as to whether wealth
or wisdom were the more powerful: the Raja's son said that wealth
was most important, while the merchant's son declared for wisdom; the
discussion waxed hot and neither would yield his opinion. At last the
merchant's son declared; "It is of no use for us to argue like this,
let us put it to the test: let us both go to some far country and
take service with some master for a year, and try whether wealth or
wisdom is the more successful." The Prince agreed to this plan and
they fixed a day for starting.
Then they both went home and collected what money they could lay hands
on and, when the time arrived, started off early one morning. After
they had travelled some distance the Prince began to think of how his
parents must be searching for him, for he had said nothing about his
going away; but the merchant's son comforted him by saying that he
had left word of their intentions at his home, and his relations would
tell the Raja; so they continued on their way, and after a time they
came to a certain country where the merchant's son proposed that they
should look for employment. But now that it had come to the point, the
prince did not like the idea of becoming a servant and he said that he
would live on the money which he had brought with him, and which would
last for a year or two. "You may do as you like" answered his friend
"but for my part I must look for work." So he went to a village and
found employment as a teacher in a school; his pupils gave him his
food and also some small wages, so that he had enough to live on,
without spending any of the money he had brought with him.
Meanwhile the Raja's son hired a house in the village and began
to lead a riotous life; in a very short time He had wasted all his
money on his evil companions and was reduced to absolute starvation;
for when his money came to an end, all his so-called friends deserted
him. Thin and wretched, he went to the merchant's son and asked him
either to take him back to his father's home or to find him work. His
friend agreed to find him some employment, and after a little enquiry
heard of a farmer who wanted a servant to take a bullock out to graze
and to fill a trough with water once a day. The prince thought that
he could easily manage that amount of work, so he went to the farmer
and engaged himself as his servant.
The terms of service were these:--If the prince threw up his work one
of his little fingers was to be cut off, but if the farmer dismissed
him while he was working well then the farmer was to lose a little
finger; and if the prince grazed the bullock and filled the trough
with water regularly, he was to get as much cooked rice as would
cover a plantain leaf, but if he did not do the work he was to get
only what would go on a tamarind leaf. The prince readily agreed to
these terms, for he thought that the work would not take him more than
an hour or two. But unhappily for him, things did not turn out as he
expected. On the first morning he took the bullock out to graze, but
the animal would not eat; whenever it saw any other cattle passing,
it would gallop off to join them, and when the prince had run after
it and brought it back, nothing would make it graze quietly; it
kept running away in one direction or another with the prince in
pursuit. So at last he had to bring it home and shut it up in the
cow-shed and even that he found difficult.
Then they set him to filling the trough, and he found that he could
not do that either, for the trough had a hole in the bottom and had
been set over the mouth of an old well; and as fast as the prince
poured the water in, it ran away, but he was too stupid to see what
was the matter and went on pouring till he was quite tired out; so as
he had not completed the tasks set him, he only got a tamarind leaf
full of rice for his supper; this went on every day and the prince
began to starve, but he was afraid to run away and tell his troubles
to the merchant's son, lest he should have his little finger cut off.
But the merchant's son had not forgotten his friend and began to
wonder why the Prince kept away from him. So one day he went to pay
him a visit and was horrified to find him looking so ill and starved;
when he heard how the prince was only getting a tamarind leaf full
of rice every day, because he could not perform the task set him, he
offered to change places with the Prince and sent him off to teach in
the school while he himself stayed with the farmer. The next morning
the merchant's son took the bullock out to graze and he also found
that the animal would not graze quietly but spent its time in chasing
the other cattle, so at noon he brought it home and set to work to
fill the trough; he soon found the hole in the bottom through which
the water escaped and stopped it up with a lump of clay and then he
easily filled the trough to the brim. Then in the afternoon he took
the bullock out again to graze and when he brought it back at sunset
he was given a plantain leaf full of rice; this meant more food than
he could possibly eat in a day.
He was determined that the bullock should not give him any more
trouble, so the next morning when he took it out to graze, he took with
him a thick rope and tethered the animal to a tree; this saved him
all the trouble of running after it, but it was clear that it would
not get enough to eat in that way, so he made up his mind to get rid
of it altogether, and when he took it out in the afternoon, he took
with him a small axe and drove the bullock to a place where a herd of
cattle were grazing and then knocked it on the head with the axe and
threw the body into a ravine near by. Then he hid the axe and ran off
to his master and told him that the bullock had started fighting with
another animal in the herd and had been pushed over the edge of the
ravine and killed by the fall. The farmer went out to see for himself
and when he found the dead body lying in the ravine he could not but
believe the story, and had no fault to find with his cunning servant.
A few days later, as the rice crop was ripe, the farmer told the
merchant's son to go to the fields to reap the rice. "How shall I
reap it?" asked he. "With a sickle," replied the farmer. "Then it
will be the the sickle and not I, that reaps it" "As you like,"
said the farmer, "you go along with the sickle, no doubt it knows
all about it;" so they got him a sickle and he went off to the
fields. When he got there, he noticed how bright the sickle looked,
and when he touched it, he found it quite hot from being carried
in the sun. "Dear, dear," said he, "I cannot let this sickle reap
the rice: it is so hot that it must have very bad fever; I will let
it rest in the shade until it gets better," so he laid it down in a
shady spot and began to stroll about. Presently up came the farmer,
and was very angry to find no work going on. "Did I send you out to
stroll about, or to start cutting the rice?" roared he. "To cut the
rice," answered the merchant's son, "but the sickle has fallen ill
with high fever and is resting in the shade; come and feel how hot
it is." "You are nothing but an idiot," answered the farmer. "You
are no good here; go back home and start a fire in the big house and
boil some water by the time I get back." The merchant's son was only
on the lookout for an excuse to annoy the farmer and the words used
by the farmer were ambiguous; so he went straight back to the farm
and set the biggest house on fire. The farmer saw the conflagration
and came rushing home and asked the merchant's son what on earth he
meant by doing such mischief. "I am only doing exactly what you told
me; nothing would induce me to disobey any order of yours, my worthy
master." The farmer had nothing more to say; his words would bear the
construction put upon them by the merchant's son, and he was afraid
to dismiss him lest he should have to lose his little finger; so he
made up his mind to get rid of this inconvenient servant in another
way, and the next day he called him and told him that he must send
word to his father-in-law of the unfortunate burning of the house,
and the merchant's son must carry the letter.
The latter accordingly set off with the letter, but on the road he
thought that it would be just as well to see what the letter was
really about; so he opened it and found that it contained a request
from the farmer to his father-in-law to kill the bearer of the letter
immediately on his arrival. The merchant's son at once tore this up
and wrote another letter in the farmer's name: saying that the bearer
of the letter was a most excellent servant and he wished him to marry
into the family; but that as he himself had no daughters he hoped that
his father-in-law would give him one of his daughters to wife. Armed
with this he proceeded on his journey. The father-in-law was rather
surprised at the contents of the letter and asked the merchant's
son if he knew what it was about; he protested complete ignorance:
the farmer had told him nothing, and as he was only a poor cowherd,
of course he could not read. This set suspicion at rest; the wedding
was at once arranged and duly took place, and the merchant's son
settled down to live with his wife's family.
After a time the farmer got news of what had happened, and when he
saw how the merchant's son had always been sharp enough to get the
better of him, he began to fear that in the end he would be made to
cut off his finger; so he sought safety in flight. He ran away from
his house and home and was never heard of more.
When news of this came to the ears of the merchant's son, he set
out to visit his old friend the Prince and found him still teaching
in the little village school. "What do you think now," he asked him,
"is wisdom or money the better. By my cleverness, I got the better of
that farmer; he had to give me more rice than I could eat. I killed his
bullock, I set fire to his house, and I got a wife without expending
a pice on my marriage; while you--you have spent all the money you
brought with you from home, and have met with nothing but starvation
and trouble; what good has your money done you?" The Prince had not
a word to answer.
Two or three days later the Prince proposed that they should go back to
their parents; his friend agreed but said that he must first inform his
wife's relations, so they went back to the village where the merchant's
son had married, and while they were staying there the Prince caught
sight of a Raja's daughter and fell violently in love with her.
Learning of the Prince's state of mind the merchant's son undertook
to arrange the match; so he sent his wife to the Raja's daughter with
orders to talk of nothing but the virtues and graces of the Prince
who was staying at their house. Her words had their due effect and
the Raja's daughter became so well disposed towards the Prince, that
when one day she met him, she also fell violently in love with him
and felt that she could not be happy unless she became his wife. So
the wedding duly took place, and then the Prince and the merchant's
son with their respective wives returned to their fathers' houses.
LXXXVII. The Goala and the Cow.
Once upon a time a young man of the Goala caste was going to his
wedding; he was riding along in a palki, with all his friends, to
the bride's house and as he was passing by a pool of water he heard a
voice saying, "Stop you happy bridegroom; you are happy, going to fetch
your bride; spare a thought for my misfortune and stay and pull me out
of this quagmire." Looking out he saw a cow stuck fast in the mud at
the edge of the pool, but he had no pity for it and harshly refused
to go to its help, for fear lest he should make his clothes muddy.
Then the cow cursed the Goala, saying, "Because you have refused to
help me in my extremity, this curse shall light on you, directly you
touch your bride you shall turn into a donkey." At these words the
Goala was filled with fear and telling the bearers to put down the
palki he alighted and ran and pulled the cow out of the mud; this done,
he begged her to withdraw the curse, but the cow declared that this
was impossible, what she had said was bound to come to pass. At these
words the Goala began to lament and threw himself at the feet of the
cow, beseeching her; at length the cow relented, and promised that
though the curse could not be withdrawn it should be mitigated and
it would be possible for his wife to restore him to human shape. So
the Goala had to take what comfort he could from this and returning
to the palki he told his friends what had passed. Much downcast the
procession continued its way, wondering what would be the upshot of
this adventure.
Arrived at the bride's house, they proceeded to celebrate the wedding;
but as the Goala touched the bride with his finger to apply the
vermilion mark to her forehead, he suddenly became a donkey. The
company were filled with dismay and the bride's parents declared that
they would never let their daughter go away with such a husband,
but the bride herself spoke up and said that as Thakur for some
reason had given her such a husband she would cleave to him, and
nothing that her relations said could shake her purpose; so when the
bridal party set out homewards, she went with them to her husband's
house. But there everyone laughed at her so much for having married
a donkey that she made up her mind to run away to another country;
so one day she packed up some provisions for the journey and set out,
driving the donkey before her.
She journeyed on and on till one day she happened to come to a tank
with a large well near it; she turned the donkey loose to graze on
the banks of the tank and sat down by the well to eat some of the
food which she had with her. In the fields below the tank were some
twenty ploughmen in the service of the Raja of that country, driving
their ploughs; and when it got past noon these men began to grumble,
because; no one had brought them their dinner; as it got later and
later they became more and more violent, and vowed that when anyone
did come they would give him a good beating for his laziness. At last
one of the maid-servants of the Raja was seen coming along, carrying
their food in a basket on her head and with her child running by her
side. The sight pacified the ploughmen and the maid-servant hastened
to set down the basket near them and then went off to the well to
draw some water for them.
Just as she was ready to let down the water-pot, a wedding procession
passed along the road with drums and music, making a fine show. The
maid could not keep her eyes off this, but at the same time did not
wish to keep the ploughmen waiting any longer; so, with her eyes on
the procession, she tied the well-rope, as she thought round the neck
of the water-pot, but really, without knowing it, she tied the rope
round the neck of her own little child and proceeded to lower him
into the well. When she pulled up the rope she found that she had
strangled her own child.
She was of course much distressed at this, but she was even more
afraid of what might be done to her and at once hit on a device to save
herself from the charge of murder. Taking the dead child in her arms
she ran to the ploughmen and scattered all the food she had brought
about the ground; then with the child still in her arms, she ran to
the Raja and complained to him that his ploughmen had assaulted her,
because she was late in taking them their dinner, had knocked the
basket of food all about the ground and had beaten her child to death;
she added that a strange woman was grazing a donkey near the place
and must have seen all that passed.
The Raja at once sent a Sipahi to fetch the ploughmen and when they
came before him he asked them what had happened, and bade them swear
before _Sing bonga_ whether they were guilty of the murder. The
ploughmen solemnly swore to speak the truth, and then told the Raja
exactly what had happened, how the woman had killed her child by
mistake and then falsely charged them with the murder. Then the
Raja asked them whether they had any witnesses, and they said that
there was no one of their own village present at the time, but that
a strange woman was grazing an ass on the banks of the tank, who
must have seen all that happened. Then the Raja sent two sipahis to
fetch the woman, telling them to treat her well and bring her along
gently. So the sipahis went to the woman and told her that the Raja
wanted her on very important business; she made no demur and went to
fetch her donkey. The sipahis advised her to leave it behind to graze,
but she said that wherever she went the donkey must go and drove it
along with her.
When she appeared before the Raja he explained to her what had
happened, and how the maid-servant told one story about the death
of the child and the ploughmen another, and he charged her to speak
the truth as to what she had seen. The Goala's bride answered that
she was ready to take an oath and to swear by her donkey: if she
spoke the truth the donkey would turn into a man, and if she lied
it would retain its shape. "If you take that oath," said the Raja,
"the case shall be decided accordingly." Then the Goala's wife began
to tell all that she had seen and how the ploughmen were angry because
their dinner was late, and how the maid-servant had gone to the well to
draw water and had strangled her child by mistake and had then knocked
over the basket and charged the ploughmen with the murder. "If I have
lied may Chando punish me and if I have spoken the truth may this ass
become a man;" so saying she laid her hand on the back of the animal
and it at once resumed its human shape.
This was sufficient to convince the Raja, who turned to the
maid-servant and reproached her with trying to ruin the ploughmen by
her false charge. She had no answer to make but took up the dead body
of the child and went out without a word.
Thus the Goala was restored to his original shape, but he and his
faithful wife did not return to their own relations; they took service
with a farmer of that country and after a time they saved money and
took some land and lived prosperously and well. From that time men
of the Goala caste have always been very careful to treat cattle well.
LXXXVIII. The Telltale Wife.
Once upon a time a man was setting out in his best clothes to attend
a village meeting. As he was passing at the back of the house his
maid-servant happened to throw a basket of cowdung on the manure heap
and some of it accidentally splashed his clothes. He thought that he
would be laughed at if he went to the meeting in dirty clothes so he
went back to change them; and he put the dirty cloth he took off in
an earthen pot and covered the mouth with leaves and hung it to the
roof of the room in which he and his wife slept.
Two or three days later his wife began to question him as to what
was in the pot hanging from the roof. At first he refused to tell
her; but every time she set eyes on it she renewed her questioning;
for a time he refused to gratify her curiosity, saying that no woman
could keep a secret, but she protested that she would tell no one;
her husband's secrets were her own; at last he pretended that his
patience was worn out and having made her promise never to tell a soul,
he said "I have killed a man, and to prevent the murder being traced
I cut off his head and hid it in that pot; mind you do not say a word
or my life will be forfeit."
For a time nothing more was said, but one day husband and wife had
a quarrel; high words and blows passed between them and at last the
woman ran out of the house, crying: "You have struck me, I shall let
it be known that you are a murderer." She went to the village headman
and told him what was hidden in the pot; the villagers assembled and
bound the supposed murderer with ropes and took him to the police. The
police officer came and took down the pot and found in it nothing but
a stained cloth. So he fined the headman for troubling him with false
information and went away. Then the man addressed his fellow-villagers
in these words "Listen to me: never tell a secret to a woman and be
careful in your conversation with them; they are sure to let out a
secret and one day will turn your accusers."
From that time we have learnt the lesson that anything which you tell
to a woman will become known.
LXXXIX. The Bridegroom Who Spoke in Riddles.
Once upon a time there were two brothers; the elder was named
Bhagrai and was married, but the younger, named Kora, was still a
bachelor. One day Bhagrai's wife asked her husband when he intended
to look out for a wife for Kora, for people would think it very mean
of them if they did not provide for his marriage. But to his wife's
astonishment Bhagrai flatly refused to have anything to do with the
matter. He said that Kora must find a wife for himself. His wife
protested that that was impossible as Kora had no money of his own,
but Bhagrai would not listen to her and refused even to give Kora
his share in the family property.
Bhagrai's cruel conduct was very distressing to his wife; and one day
as she was sitting picking the lice out of Kora's head, she began to
cry and Kora felt her tears dropping on to his back; he turned round
and asked his sister-in-law why she was crying. She said that she
could not tell him, as it would only make him unhappy, but he would
not be put off and said that she had no right to have any secrets
from him and at last she told him that Bhagrai had said that he must
arrange his own marriage without any help from them. At this cruel
news Kora began to cry too and falling on his sister-in-law's neck
he wept bitterly. Then he went and fetched his clothes and bow and
arrows and flute and what other little property he had, and told his
sister-in-law that he must go out into the world and seek his fortune,
for he would never get a wife by staying at home. So she tied up some
dried rice for him to eat by the way and let him go.
Kora set out and had not travelled far, before he fell in with an
old man who was travelling in the same direction as himself and they
agreed to continue their way together. After walking some miles, Kora
said "I have a proposal to make: let us take it in turns to carry each
other: then we shall neither of us get tired and shall do the journey
comfortably." The old man refused to have anything to do with such an
extraordinary arrangement: so on they went and by and bye came to a
tank which seemed a good place to rest and eat some food by. The old
man sat down at the steps leading down to the water, but Kora went
and sat on the bank where it was covered with rough grass. Presently
he called out "Friend, I do not like the look of this tank: to whom
does it belong?" The old man told him the name of the owner, "Then
why has he put no post in the middle of it?" This question amazed his
companion for there was the usual post sticking up in the middle of
the tank in front of them: he began to think that he had fallen in
with a lunatic: however he said nothing and they went on together:
and presently they passed a large herd of cow-buffaloes: looking at
them Kora said "Whose are these: why have they no horns?" "But they
have got horns: what on earth do you mean by saying that they have
not?" replied his companion, Kora however persisted "No, there is not
a horn among them." The old man began to lose his temper but they went
on and presently passed by a herd of cows, most of them with bells tied
round their necks. No sooner did Kora catch sight of them than he began
again "Whose can these cows be? Why have they not got bells on?" "Look
at the bells," said the old man "cannot you use your eyes?" "No," said
Kora, "I cannot see a bell among them." The old man did not think it
worth while to argue with him and at evening they reached the village
where he lived: and Kora asked to be allowed to stay with him for the
night. So they went to his house and sat down on a string bed in the
cow-shed while the women folk brought them out water to wash their
feet. After sitting awhile, Kora suddenly said "Father, why did you
not put up a king post when you were making this cow-shed?" Now at
that very moment he was leaning against the king post and the old man
was too puzzled and angry at his idiotic question to say anything: so
he got up and went into the house to tell his wife to put some extra
rice into the pot for their visitor. His wife and daughter at once
began asking him who their guest was: he said that he knew nothing
about him except that he was an absolute idiot. "What is the matter
with him," asked the daughter: "he looks quite sensible": then her
father began to tell her all the extraordinary things that Kora had
said: how he had proposed that they should carry each other in turn:
and had declared that there was no post in the middle of the tank: and
that the buffaloes had no horns and the cows no bells: and that there
was no king post to the cow house. His daughter listened attentively
and then said "I think it is you, father, who have been stupid and
not our guest: I understand quite well what he meant. I suppose that
when he proposed that you should carry each other, you had not been
doing much talking as you went along?" "That is so," said her father,
"we had not spoken for a long time:" "Then all he meant was that you
should chat as you went along and so make the way seem shorter: and as
to the tank, were there any trees on its banks?" "No, they were quite
bare." "Then that is what he meant when he talked about the post:
he meant that the tank should have had trees planted round it: and
as to the buffaloes and cows, there was doubtless no bull with either
herd." "I certainly did not notice one," said her father. "Then that is
what he was talking about: I think that it was very stupid of you not
to understand him." "Then what does he mean by the king post in the
cow house" asked the old man. "He meant that there was no cross beam
from wall to wall," "Then you don't think him a fool at all?" "No,
he seems to me very sensible." "Then perhaps you would like to have
him for your husband?" "That is for you and my mother to decide."
So the old man went off to his wife and asked her what she thought
about the match and they both agreed that it would be very suitable:
the girl understood Kora's riddles so well that they seemed made for
each other. So the next morning when Kora proposed to start off on
his journey again, the old man asked whether he would care to stay
with them and marry his daughter. Kora was delighted to find a wife so
soon, and readily agreed to work for five years in his father-in-law's
house to win his bride: so a day was fixed for the betrothal ceremony,
and thus Kora succeeded in arranging his own marriage.
XC. The Lazy Man.
Once upon a time three brothers lived together: the youngest of
them was named Kora and he was the laziest man alive: he was never
willing to do any work but at meal times he was always first on the
spot. His laziness began to drag the family down in the world, for
they could not afford to feed a man who did no work. His two elder
brothers were always scolding him but he would not mend his ways:
however the scolding annoyed him and one day he ran away from home.
He had become so poor that he had nothing on but a loin cloth: it
was the middle of winter and when the evening drew on he began to
shiver with cold: so he was very glad when he came to a village to
see a group of herdboys sitting round a fire in the village street,
roasting field rats. He went up to them and sat down by the fire to
warm himself. The herd boys gave him some of the rats to eat and when
they had finished their feast went off to their homes to sleep. It was
nice and warm by the fire and Kora was too lazy to go round the village
looking for some one who would take him in for the night: so he made
up his mind to go to sleep by the fire. He curled himself up beside it
and was about to take off his waist cloth to spread over himself as
a sheet when he found a bit of thread which he had tied up in one of
the corners of the cloth. "Why!" thought he "cloth is made of thread:
so this thread must be cloth! I will use it as a sheet." So he tied
one end of the thread round his big toe and wound the other end round
his ears and stretching himself out at full length soon fell asleep.
During the night the fire died down and a village dog which was on
the prowl came and coiled itself up on the warm ashes and also went
to sleep alongside Kora.
Now the headman of that village was a well-to-do man with much land
under cultivation and a number of servants, and as it was the time
when the paddy was being threshed he got up very early in the morning
to start the work betimes. As he walked up the village street he came
on the man and dog lying fast asleep side by side. He roused up Kora
and asked him who he was and whether he did not find it very cold,
lying out in the open. "No" answered Kora, "I don't find it cold:
this is my dog and he has eaten up all my cold: he will eat up the
cold of a lakh of people." The headman at once thought that a dog
that could do this would be a very useful animal to possess: he had
to spend a lot of money in providing clothes for his farm labourers
and yet they all suffered from the cold, while if he could get hold
of the dog he and all his household would be permanently warm: so he
asked Kora what price he set on the dog. Kora said that he would sell
it for fifty lakhs of rupees and no less: he would not bargain about
the matter: the headman might take it or leave it as he liked. The
headman agreed to the terms and taking Kora to his house paid him
over the money. Kora made no delay in setting off homewards and when
he arrived the first thing he did was to tell his brothers to find
him a wife as he had now enough money to pay all the expenses of his
marriage. When his brothers found that the lazy one of the family
had come home with such a fortune they gave him a very different
reception from what they used to before, and set to work to arrange
his marriage and the three brothers all lived happily ever after.
Meanwhile the headman who had bought the dog sent for his labourers and
told them of his luck in finding such a valuable animal. He bade them
tie it up at the door of the hut on the threshing floor in which they
slept: and in the morning to lead it round with them as they drove
the oxen that trod out the grain, and then they would none of them
feel cold. That night the labourers put the matter to the test but
although the dog was tied up by the door the men in the hut shivered
all night long as usual. Then in the morning they one after the other
tried leading the dog as they drove the oxen round the threshing floor
but it did not make them any warmer, so they soon got tired and tied
the dog up again. Presently their master came along and asked what
they had done with the dog and was told that the animal would not
eat up the cold at all. The headman would not believe that he had
been duped and began to lead the dog round to try for himself. Only
too soon he had to admit that it made no difference. So, in a rage
he caught up a stick and beat the poor dog to death. Thus he lost
his money and got well laughed at by all the village for his folly.
XCI. Another Lazy Man.
Once upon a time there was a man named Kora who was so lazy that his
brothers turned him out of the house and he had to go out into the
world to seek his fortune. At first he tried to get some other young
man of the village to keep him company on his travels but they all
refused to have anything to do with such a lazy fellow, so he had to
set out alone. However, he was resolved to have a companion of some
sort, so when he came to a place where a crab had been burrowing he
set to work and dug it out of the ground and took it along with him,
tied up in his cloth.
He travelled on for days and weeks until he came to a country which
was being devastated by a Rakhas who preyed on human beings, and the
Raja of the country had proclaimed that any one who could kill the
Rakhas should have one of his sisters in marriage and a large grant of
land. Kora however knew nothing of all this and that evening he camped
for the night under a tree on the outskirts of a village. Presently
the villagers came out and begged him to come and spend the night
in one of their houses, as it was impossible for a man to sleep
safely in the open by himself. "Do not trouble about me," said Kora,
"I am not alone: I have a companion and we two shall be quite safe
together." The villagers saw no one with him and could not understand
what he was talking about, but as he would not listen to them they
had to leave him to his fate.
Night came on and as usual Kora untied the crab from his cloth and
soon fell asleep. About midnight the Rakhas came prowling along and
seeing Kora sleeping alone made towards him. But the crab rushed at
the Rakhas and climbing up his body seized his neck with its claws
and slit the windpipe. Down fell the Rakhas and lay kicking on the
ground. The noise awoke Kora, who seized a big stone and dashed out
the brains of the Rakhas. He then cut off the tips of the ears and
tongue and claws and wrapped them up in his cloth and lay down to
sleep again with the crab in his bosom.
At dawn the chowkidar of the village, who was a Dome, came on his
rounds and found the Rakhas lying dead. He thought that it would be
easy for him to obtain the credit of having killed it: so he cut off
one of the legs and hurrying home told his wife and children to clear
out of the house at once: he had nothing more to do with them, as he
was going to marry the Raja's sister and become a great landowner. Then
he rushed out into the village, shouting out that he had killed the
Rakhas. The villagers all went to see the dead body and found it lying
near the tree under which they had left Kora to spend the night. They
were not quite convinced that the Dome's story was true and asked
Kora who had really killed the Rakhas. He declined to answer but asked
that he and the Dome might both be taken to the Raja, and then proof
would be forthcoming as to who was really entitled to the Reward.
So the villagers took up the dead body and carried it off to the Raja,
taking Kora and the Dome with them. The Raja asked what proof there
was as to who had killed the Rakhas: and first the Dome produced the
leg which he had cut off; but Kora unrolled his cloth and showed the
ears and tongue and claws of the Rakhas. It was at once seen that
the leg which the Dome had brought wanted the claws, so his fraud was
clearly proved and he was driven from the assembly with derision and
had to go and humbly make his peace with the wife whom he had turned
out of his house. But the nuptials of Kora and the Raja's sister
took place at once and they were given a fine palace to live in and
a large tract of country for their own.
Kora never allowed himself to be separated from his faithful crab and
this led to his life being saved a second time. A few nights after
he was married, Kora was lying asleep with the crab upon his breast,
when two snakes began to issue from the nostrils of his bride: their
purpose was to kill Kora but when they saw the watchful crab they
drew in their heads again. A few minutes later they again looked out:
then the crab went and hid under the chin of the Princess and when
the snakes put out their heads far enough it seized both of them with
its claws: the snakes wriggled and struggled until they came entirely
out of the nose of the princess and were dragged to the floor where
the crab strangled them. In the morning Kora awoke and saw what the
crab had done: he asked what he could do to show his gratitude to
his faithful friend, and the crab asked to be set free in some pond
which never dried up and that Kora would rescue it if any one ever
succeeded in catching it. So Kora chose a tank and set the crab free
and every day he used to go and bathe in that tank and the crab used
to come and meet him.
After living in luxury for a time Kora went with a grand procession
of horses and elephants to visit his industrious brothers who had
turned him out of their home for laziness, and he showed them that
he had chosen the better part, for they would never be able to keep
horses and elephants for all their industry: so he invited them to
come and live with him on his estate and when they had reaped that
year's crops they went with him.
XCII. The Widow's Son.
Once upon a time there was a poor woman whose husband died suddenly
from snake bite, leaving her with one little girl. At the time she
was expecting another child and every day she lamented the loss of
her husband and prayed to Chando that the child she should bear might
be a son: but fresh troubles came upon her, for when her husband's
brothers saw that she was with child they declared that she had been
unfaithful to her husband and had murdered him to conceal her shame:
and although they had no proof of this, they seized on all their dead
brother's property and land and left the widow nothing but the bare
house to live in.
But Chando had pity on her and when her time was full a boy was born
to her. She gave thanks to Chando and devoted herself to bringing up
the child. The boy grew up and learned to walk and talk and one day he
asked his mother where his father was. She told him that a snake had
bitten his father before he was born. Thereupon the boy embraced her
and told her not to cry as he would support her and take the place
of his father. The mother was filled with wonder and gratitude at
the boy's intelligence.
In answer to her daily prayers she met with kindness at all hands:
when she went out working her employers gave her extra wages: when
she went gleaning something extra was left for her, and if she had
to beg no one refused to give her alms, so in time she was able to
get together some household requisites and start keeping fowls and
pigs. By selling these she saved enough money to buy goats and sheep:
and in course of time was able to think of buying a cow.
By that time her son--whom she called Bhagraihad grown up to be a boy
and took an interest in all that went on: so he asked his mother how
he could tell when to buy a heifer. She said that if when the seller
was showing a cow to an intending purchaser the animal dropped dung,
it should be bought without hesitation, as such a cow was sure to take
kindly to its new home and to have plenty of calves: another equally
good sign was if the cow had nine teeth. Thereupon Bhagrai declared
that he would set out to buy a cow and be guided in his choice by
these signs and not come back till he found one. His mother thought
that he was too young to undertake such a business but at last yielded
to his entreaties. Then he tried to get some one in the village to go
with him on his expedition but no one of his own friends or relations
would go, so he had to arrange with a man of the blacksmith caste to
keep him company.
Early one morning they set out, enquiring as they went along whether
any one had a cow for sale. For a long time they were unsuccessful
but after passing right through the territories of one Raja, they at
length came to a village where they heard of a heifer for sale. As
they were examining it it dropped dung, and on inspection its mouth
showed nine teeth. Bhagrai at once declared that he must buy it
and would not listen to the blacksmith who tried to dissuade him
because, although the animal was full grown, it had had no calf and
was probably barren. Bhagrai however preferred to be guided by the
signs of which his mother had told him, and after a certain amount
of haggling bought the animal for five rupees. The money was paid
and he and the blacksmith set off homewards with the cow.
Night overtook them and they turned into a village and asked to be
allowed to sleep in the verandah of one of the houses: and permission
being given they tied the cow to a post and went to sleep. In the
middle of the night the owner of the house came and took away their
cow and tied an old and worthless one of his own in its place. On
waking in the morning Bhagrai and the blacksmith saw at once what
had happened and charged the owner of the house with the theft. He
vehemently denied all knowledge of the matter and after they had
quarrelled for a long time went to call the villagers to arbitrate
between them. But he took care to promise the headman and leading
villagers a bribe of five rupees if they decided the case in his
favour: so the result was a foregone conclusion and the arbitrators
told Bhagrai to take away the old worthless cow.
He however refused to accept the decision and said that he would go and
find two people to represent him on the panchayat. The villagers raised
no objection for they knew that he was a stranger, and thought that
they could easily convince any persons he might pick up. Bhagrai set
off towards a village he saw in the distance but lost his way in the
jungle, and as he was wandering about he came on two jackals. On seeing
him they started to run but he called to them to stop and telling
them all that had happened asked them to come to the panchayat. The
jackals answered that it was clear that the villagers had been bribed,
but they would come and do what was possible. They told him to bring
the villagers with both the cows to a big banyan tree outside the
village. All the villagers went out to meet the jackals and Bhagrai
stood up in the midst and began to explain his grievance.
Meanwhile the jackals sat quite still, seeming to take no interest
in what was going on. "A fine pair these are to have on a panchayat"
said the villagers to each other, "they are nearly asleep: they have
been up all night catching crabs and grasshoppers and now are too tired
to keep awake." "No," said one jackal, "we are not as sleepy as you
think: we are quite willing to take a part in deciding this dispute:
but the fact is that I and my wife have a quarrel and we want you
first to decide that for us and then we will take up the question of
the cow; if you villagers can settle our difference satisfactorily
we shall be able to conclude that you have given a fair judgement on
the complaint of this orphan boy."
The villagers told him to continue and he explained "I and my wife
always go about together: we eat at the same time and drink at the
same time and yet she drops dung twice a day while I do so only once:
what is the reason of this?" The villagers could think of no answer and
the jackal bade them ask his wife: so they laughed and asked whether
it was true that she dropped dung twice to the he-jackal's once. But
the jackal reproved them for their levity, wise men of old had said
that it was wrong to jest when men of weight met to decide a dispute;
so they became serious and the she-jackal answered "It is true that
I drop dung twice to his once: there is an order laid on me to do so:
I drop dung once at the same time that he does: that excrement falls
to the ground and stays there: but the second time the excrement falls
into the mouths of the ancestors of those men who take bribes and
do injustice to the widow and orphan and when such bribetakers reach
the next world they will also have to eat it. If however they confess
their sin and ask pardon of me they will be let off the punishment:
this is the reason why I have been ordered to drop dung twice." "Now
you have heard what she has to say" put in the he-jackal "what to you
think of the explanation? I hope that there are no such bribetakers
among you: if there are they had better confess at once."
Then all the villagers who had agreed to take a share of the bribe
and had helped to rob the boy of his cow confessed what they had done
and declared that the boy should have his cow again, and they fined
the thief five rupees. So Bhagrai and the blacksmith went gladly on
their way and the blacksmith soon told all his neighbours of the two
wonderful jackals who talked like men and had compelled the villagers
to restore the stolen cow. "Ah" said the boy's mother "they were not
jackals, they were Chando," When Bhagrai's uncles heard all this and
saw how he and his mother had prospered in spite of the loss of all
their property, they became frightened and gave back the land and
cattle which they had taken, without waiting for them to be claimed.
XCIII. The Boy Who Was Changed into a Dog.
Once upon a time there were seven brothers: the six eldest were
married, but the youngest was only a youth and looked after the
cattle. The six married brothers spent their life in hunting and
used often to be away from home for one or two months at a time. Now
all their six wives were witches and directly their husbands left
home the six women used to climb a peepul tree and ride away on it,
to eat men or do some other devilry. The youngest brother saw them
disappear every day and made up his mind to find out what they did. So
one morning he hid in a hollow in the trunk of the peepul tree and
waited till his sisters-in-law came and climbed up into the branches:
then the tree rose up and was carried through the air to the banks of
a large river, where the women climbed down and disappeared. After a
time they came back and climbed into the tree and rode on it back to
the place where it came from. But as they descended they saw their
brother-in-law hiding in the trunk and at first they tried to make
him promise not to tell what he had seen, but he swore that he would
let his brothers know all about it: so then they thought of killing
him, but in the end the eldest said that this was not necessary and
she fetched two iron nails and drove them into the soles of his feet
whereupon he at once became a dog. He could understand all that was
said but of course could not speak. He followed them home and they
treated him well and always gave him a regular helping at meals as
if he were a human being and did not merely throw him the scraps as
if he were a dog: nor would he have eaten them if they had.
A month afterwards the other brothers came home and asked if all had
gone well in their absence. Their wives said that all was well except
that the youngest brother had unfortunately disappeared without leaving
any trace. While they were talking the dog came up and fawned on the
brothers, so they asked where it had come from and the women said
that it had followed them home on the day that they were looking for
the missing boy: and they had kept it ever since. So matters rested:
the brothers searched high and low but could not find the missing
boy and so gave up the quest.
Now the Raja of that country had three daughters whom he had tried in
vain to get married: whenever a bridegroom was proposed to them they
declared that he was not to their liking and they would have nothing
to do with him. At last their father said that as they would not let
him choose husbands for them, they must make the choice themselves:
he proposed to assemble all the men in his kingdom on a certain day
and there and then they must take to themselves husbands.
So proclamation was made that all the men were to assemble outside
the palace and that three of them would receive the Raja's daughters
in marriage without having to pay any brideprice. On the fixed day
a great crowd collected and among others went the six brothers: and
the dog followed them. Then the three princesses were brought out
and three flies were caught: round one fly was tied a piece of white
thread for the eldest princess and round the second fly a red thread
for the second princess: and round the last fly a blue thread for
the youngest princess. Then the three princesses solemnly promised
that each would marry the man on whom the fly marked with her colour
settled, and the flies were let loose. The red fly and the blue fly
soon settled on two of the men sitting in the crowd but the white
fly flew high in the air and circled round and at last settled on
the dog which was sitting beside the six brothers.
At this the crowd laughed and jeered but the eldest princess said
that she must accept what fate had decreed and that she would marry
the dog. So the betrothal ceremony of the three princesses took place
at once, soon followed by their weddings. The husbands of the two
youngest princesses took their brides home, but the eldest princess
stayed in her father's house with her dog.
One day after its dinner the dog was lying on its side asleep and the
princess chanced to see the heads of the iron nails in its feet: "Ah,"
thought she, "that is why the poor dog limps." So she ran and fetched
a pair of pincers and pulled out the nails: no sooner had she done
so than the dog was restored to its human shape and the princess was
delighted to find that not only was he a man but also very handsome:
and they settled down to live happily together.