{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_31209/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_31209","id":"gutenberg_31209","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/31209","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Fairy tales -- India","Folklore -- India","Tales -- India"],"text":"Produced by David Edwards, Sam W. and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from images generously made available by The\nInternet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note\n\nThere are some characters with diacritical marks in this text, which\nare represented as follows:\n\nCharacters with an underdot are shown as [x.], where x is the letter\nconcerned.\n\nCharacters with an acute accent above, which are not available in this\ncharacter set, are shown as ['x].\n\n\n\n\n INDIAN FAIRY TALES\n\n COLLECTED AND TRANSLATED\n\n BY\n\n MAIVE STOKES.\n\n\n _WITH NOTES BY MARY STOKES,_\n\n _AND AN INTRODUCTION BY W. R. S. RALSTON, M.A._\n\n\n London:\n ELLIS & WHITE, NEW BOND STREET.\n 1880.\n\n [_All Rights reserved._]\n\n\n\n\n To my dear Grannie, Susan Bazely.\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThe first twenty-five stories in this book were told me at Calcutta\nand Simla by two Ayahs, Dunkn\u00ed and M\u00faniy\u00e1, and by Kar\u00edm, a Khidmatgar.\nThe last five were told Mother by M\u00faniy\u00e1. At first the servants would\nonly tell their stories to me, because I was a child and would not\nlaugh at them, but afterwards the Ayahs lost their shyness and told\nalmost all their stories over again to Mother when they were passing\nthrough the press. Kar\u00edm would never tell his to her or before her.\nThe stories were all told in Hind\u00fast\u00e1n\u00ed, which is the only language\nthat these servants know.\n\nDunkn\u00ed is a young woman, and was born and brought up in Calcutta. She\ngot the stories, she told me, from her husband, Moch\u00ed, who was born in\nCalcutta and brought up at Benares.\n\nM\u00faniy\u00e1 is a very old, white-haired woman. She has\ngreat-grandchildren. She was born at Patna, but when she was seven\nyears old she was taken to Calcutta, where she was brought up and\nmarried. She and Dunkn\u00ed are both Hind\u00fas.\n\nKar\u00edm is a Muhammadan and was born at Lucknow. He says that \"The\nMouse\" and \"The Wonderful Story\" are both Lucknow tales.\n\nThe notes to this book were written by Mother, and Father helped her\nto spell the Native names and words. He also made the Index.\n\nDr. George King helped us in the Botany; Mr. Tawney and Mr. Campbell\nof Islay, who saw many of the stories in manuscript, have given us\nseveral remarks. So has my uncle, John Boxwell.\n\n M. S. H. STOKES.\n\n CALCUTTA,\n _March 24th, 1879_.\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nIn almost every part of Europe the tales current among the common\npeople have been of late years diligently sought out, and carefully\ncollected. Variants of them pour in profusely every year. But it does\nnot seem probable that any entirely new stories will be discovered in\nany European land. Nor is it likely that in fresh variants of the\nlonger and apparently more artificial tales, any quite new incidents,\nor even any unquestionably novel features, will be found. The harvest\nhas been abundant, its chief fruits are now stored, and the work which\nis still going on among the gleaners, although in itself good and\npraiseworthy, may be regarded without the excitement of eager hope.\nThe task of the present seems to be, not so much the garnering of\nEuropean folk-tales, as their comparison and elucidation, and, so far\nas possible, their explanation. But in many cases they do not appear\nto contain in themselves the ingredients which are necessary for their\nresolution into their primary elements. Nor do the records of the\nlands in which they exist always supply what is wanted. The \"fairy\ntales\" of Europe throw very little light upon, are but slightly\nilluminated by, the histories of the widely differing lands in which\nthey so closely resemble each other. And the most interesting among\nthem, those which appear most clearly to bear witness to their being\nembodiments of mythological ideas, or expansions of moral precepts,\nseem to be but little in keeping with what we know of the sentiments\nand beliefs of the heathen ancestors of the villagers in whose\nmemories they have been for so many centuries retained. Among such\ntales of this kind, for instance, as linger on in our own islands,\nthere is but little to be found which can be looked upon as a\nspecially characteristic deposit left by the waves of Iberian, Celtic,\nand Teutonic population which have successively passed over the face\nof the land. This statement does not, of course, hold good in the case\nof such legends about national heroes as Mr. J. F. Campbell has found\nthriving in Ireland and the West Highlands of Scotland, and which he\njustly believes to be \"bardic recitations, fast disappearing, and\nchanging into prose.\" They belong to a different section of popular\nfiction from that to which reference is now made. It is often\ndifficult to draw the line between these two classes of folk-tales.\nBut there is a striking difference between the typical representatives\nof the two divisions, between cosmopolitan novelettes like Cinderella\nor the Sleeping Beauty, on the one hand, and pseudo-historic legends\nabout local heroes on the other. It is unfortunate that we do not\npossess a sufficiency of accurate designations for the numerous\nspecies of the genus folk-tale. Their existence would prevent much\nmisapprehension. But in their absence, a discusser of popular tales\nshould take pains to define precisely to what tribe, family, or group\nof stories his remarks are intended to apply.\n\nThere are to be found, in all European lands, certain tales which are\nof a more complex structure than the rest, which appear to have been\nconstructed by a skilled workman, to be artificial productions rather\nthan natural growths. It is only with such stories as these that we\nhave at present to deal. These novelettes or comediettas, as they may\nbe called, of the European common people, differ but little in their\nessential parts, whether they are recited in the cold north or the\nbalmy south, the rude east or the cultured west. Their openings, it is\ntrue, vary with their localities; but in the main body of the tale,\nnot only does the same leading idea pervade all the variants, but also\nthe same sequence of events leads up in almost every case to the same\ntermination. To this class of stories belong nearly all the tales\nwhich, under considerably modified forms, have naturalized themselves\nin the nurseries of Europe. In it are comprised many popular fictions,\non the obscurer parts of which a quite insufficient light is thrown by\nresearches among the manners and mythologies of old European\nheathenism.\n\nIt is upon such stories as these that a kindly light beams with the\ngreatest advantage from Asia. Very similar stories have been preserved\nin the memories of the common people in many parts of Asia, but\nespecially in India. And their leading ideas are perfectly in\naccordance with the mythology or the moral teaching of the Asiatics\nwho, age after age, have delighted in telling or hearing them. In such\ncases as these it seems to be not very unreasonable to suppose that\nthe story was originally, if not created, at all events shaped and\ntrimmed in Asia, and thence was afterwards conveyed from lip to lip\ninto Europe. Such universal favourites as Beauty and the Beast and\nPuss in Boots may be confidently cited as oriental fictions which have\ntaken possession of European minds. There is a rich store of other\npopular fictions, which may be left to be accounted for according to\nthe two principal methods of interpretation in vogue. They may be\nexplained as independent developments of mythological germs common to\nthe ancestors of the various Aryan peoples of Europe. Or they may be\nregarded as embodiments of certain ideas common to savages of all\nraces. It will be sufficient to deal at present with the more\nlimited, but better known class, to which special attention has been\ncalled.\n\nAmong the Asiatic folk-tales which seem likely to assist in their\nexplanation, none are more copious or more useful than those of India.\nThere the old religion has maintained itself with which so many of\nthese stories are linked, and there the moral teaching still prevails\nwhich made its voice heard in other tales of the far-off time when\nthey first became current. Any collection of genuine Indian Fairy\nTales is therefore certain to be, not only of interest to the general\nreader, but also of real value to the specialist who devotes himself\nto the comparison of folk-tales. The collection now before us has\ngreat merits of its own. The stories have been told in Hind\u00fast\u00e1n\u00ed to\nthe very young collector by two ayahs, who are both Hind\u00fas, and by a\nMuhammadan man-servant. In this respect Miss Stokes's contribution to\nour knowledge of India differs from the very similar, and very\ncharming, work by Miss Frere, \"Old Deccan Days,\" the stories in which\nwere told by an ayah who was, as her father and grandfather had been,\na native Christian. The two books ought to be compared with each\nother. No possessor of the one ought to be without the other. All the\nstories contained in the present volume, as we learn from the notes,\nhave been read back by the young collector to the tellers in\nHind\u00fast\u00e1n\u00ed after they were told, and a second time by the annotator\nbefore they were printed. \"I never saw people more anxious to have\ntheir tales retold exactly, than are Dunkn\u00ed and M\u00faniy\u00e1,\" the two\nstory-telling ayahs. Not till each tale was pronounced by them to be\nexact was it sent to the press. The stories may be taken then as\nfaithful transcripts of Indian thought. The merits of the copious\nNotes contributed by the late Mrs. Whitley Stokes, bearing witness to\na very wide range of reading, and to a most intelligent use of the\nauthorities referred to, will be fully acknowledged by all who have\nhad occasion to explore the regions from which she has gathered so\nmuch valuable information. Throughout the whole of the work thus\nconscientiously compiled and intelligently annotated, there will be\nfound scattered, in addition to its other merits, many a parallel with\nour own popular tales, many an illustration or explanation of their\nmeaning--a ray of light shot here or there which illumines their dark\nplaces, and may enable the explorers of their mystic domains to avoid\nstumbles which are often somewhat mortifying. It remains only to point\nout a few of the most important passages.\n\n * * * * *\n\nSome of the stories in this volume are so thoroughly oriental, so\nlittle in accordance with western thought or feeling, that they have\nnot found an echo among ourselves; their counterparts are not to be\nfound naturalized in European lands. Of such a kind are the legends,\ntaken from literary sources, of \"The Upright King,\" and of \"R\u00e1j\u00e1\nHarichand's Punishment,\" in which the patience of a religious monarch\nis tried as was that of Job, and comes out from the trial equally\nvictorious. The sorrows of Patient Grissel have met with sympathy in\nmany lands, for meekness has ever been considered a womanly virtue.\nBut the heroism of a husband and father who sells his wife to a\nmerchant, and his son to a cowherd, in order that he may be able to\nkeep his promise to a holy mendicant, and bestow upon him two pounds\nand a half of gold, can scarcely be expected to invest itself, to\nwestern eyes, with the air of a manly virtue. In the same way, the\ngreat sitting powers displayed by King Burtal, who never once moves\nfrom his seat in the jungle for twelve whole years, during which space\nof time he neither eats nor drinks, and thereby elevates himself to\nthe dignity of a fak\u00edr, are not of a kind to elicit the sympathies or\ncommand the admiration of nations addicted to active exercise.\n\nThe explanation of N\u00e1naks\u00e1's thrice repeated laugh, also, could\nretain its vitality only in an atmosphere pervaded by a belief in the\ntransmigration of souls. Buddhistic apologues have sometimes passed\ninto legends of Christian Saints. But it would be difficult to perform\nthe operation in the case of an account of how a woman, who had\ntormented to death her husband's sister, was justly punished by the\nreappearance in the world of the ill-used sister-in-law, in the form\nof that unkind woman's exceedingly peevish baby daughter. Numerous,\nalso, as are European stories about ogres, vampires, and other\ndemoniacal cannibals, we shall not readily find a western counterpart\nof the terrible tale, in No. 24, of the \"Rakshas\" which sometimes\nappears as a goat, and sometimes as a most beautiful young girl,\ndressed in grand clothes and rich jewels, but at midnight turns into a\ndevouring demon with a craving for human flesh.\n\nJust as some of the themes of these stories do not seem to have\nEuropean counterparts, so portions of their machinery appear to be\nwithout exact western equivalents. The stupendous transformations\nwhich now and then take place (see pp. 5, 148, 244) can reconcile\nthemselves only to an oriental imagination. However much the\noccidental mind may attempt to \"make believe,\" it cannot credit such a\nstatement as that when the B\u00e9l-Princess died, her eyes turned into two\nbirds, her heart into \"a great tank,\" and her body into \"a splendid\npalace and garden,\" her arms and legs becoming \"the pillars that\nsupported the verandah roof,\" and her head \"the dome on the top of the\npalace.\" In almost all countries, when a fairy hero has been slain by\na demoniacal or otherwise villainous personage, he is recalled to life\nby magic means. In European folk-lore the resuscitating remedy is\nusually a Water of Life, or a Balsam, or some similar fluid. In these\nIndian tales, it is blood streaming from the resuscitator's little\nfinger. Thus when Loving Lail\u00ed (p. 83) found her husband dead and\nheadless, she put his head back on his shoulders, and smeared his neck\nwith the blood which flowed \"like healing medicine,\" when \"she cut\nher little finger inside her hand straight down from the top of her\nnail to her palm.\" A power of becoming at will invisible is everywhere\noften attributed to heroes of romance. But it is generally connected\nwith \"a cap of darkness,\" or some similar magic article. But the\nPrince of No. 21, when he seeks the B\u00e9l-Princess, becomes invisible to\nthe \"demons and fairies\" who surround her, when he blows from the palm\nof his hand, \"all along his fingers,\" the earth which a friendly fak\u00edr\nhas given him for that purpose. A \"sleep-thorn,\" or other somniferous\npiece of wood, is commonly employed in our fairy tales, in order to\nthrow a hero or heroine into a magic slumber. In these Indian stories\na state of catalepsy, or of death, is produced or relieved by a\npeculiar application of a magic stick. Thus the Princess who was\ncalled the Golden R\u00e1n\u00ed, \"because her teeth and her hair were made of\ngold,\" and who was stolen by a demon, informed the Prince who found\nher, motionless but not sleeping, that \"the Rakshas who had carried\nher off, and whom she called papa, had a great thick stick, and when\nhe laid this stick at her feet she could not stir, but when he laid it\nat her head she could move again.\" In \"The Demon and the King's Son\"\n(No. 24), the hero opens a \"forbidden chamber,\" and there finds the\ndemon's daughter lying on a bed, apparently lifeless; for \"every day,\nbefore her father went out he used to make the girl lie on her bed,\nand cover her with a sheet, and he placed a thick stick at her head,\nand another at her feet; then she died, till he came home in the\nevening and changed the sticks, putting the one at her head at her\nfeet, and the one at her feet at her head. This brought her to life\nagain.\" An interesting parallel to the \"sleep-thorn\" is afforded by\nthe pin which, while it remains in the head of the bird which had been\nthe wife of the Pomegranate King (No. 2), prevents her from resuming\nher human shape. When the R\u00e1j\u00e1 pulled out the pin, \"his own dear\nwife, the Pomegranate R\u00e1n\u00ed, stood before him.\" Magic boxes are common\nin fairy land. But there is something new in at least the name of the\n\"sun-jewel box,\" which was sent by the \"Red Fairy,\" who lived at the\nbottom of the well, to \"The Princess who loved her father like salt\"\n(No. 23), and which contained \"seven little dolls, who were all little\nfairies.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\nOf more general interest than the few peculiarities of these tales are\nthe many points in which they resemble and illustrate some of the\nfamiliar features of European folk-lore. As an example of the latter\nmay be taken a \"husk-myth,\" which is a valuable contribution to the\nliterature of the \"Beauty and the Beast\" cycle. In all the stories\nbelonging to that group, the action turns upon the union of the human\nhero or heroine with a spouse who is really or apparently an inferior\nanimal. In the modified version of the story with which our nurseries\nhave become acquainted through a French literary medium, the species\nof Beast to which the Beauty is wedded is not stated, and its\ntransformation into a princely husband is attributed to her unaided\nlove. But in by far the greater part of the variants of the folk-tale\non which it seems to have been founded, as well as of the other\nstories in which a similar transformation is the principal\nfeature--variants which have been gathered in abundance from all parts\nof Europe, not to speak of Asia--the animal nature of the mysterious\nspouse is clearly defined. In them the husband whom the Beauty is\ninduced by filial affection, fear, or compassion to wed, is an\nunmistakable Beast--a pig in Sicily, a bear in Norway, a hedgehog in\nGermany, a goat in Russia. Sometimes he is even of a lower type, often\na frog or a snake. And once, in Wallachia, he has been transferred\nfrom the animal to the vegetable world, and figures as a pumpkin. In\nevery instance he is represented as being able to change at times his\nrepulsive appearance for one of beauty, and this he generally does by\ndoffing a kind of husk which when donned conceals his real form, and\ninvests him with that of an inferior being. If this husk be destroyed\nduring the temporary absence of its owner, he loses his transforming\npower. The destruction of the husk is generally the work of the wife,\nwho is sometimes rewarded, her husband remaining with her constant to\nhis true nature; at other times she is punished, he being lost to her\nfor a time or for ever. These stories about a monster husband have\ntheir exact counterparts in tales about a monster wife, the leading\nidea being the same in both groups; the only difference being that it\nis the wife who appears at times as a frog or other inferior creature,\nand who continues to do so until her transforming power terminates\nwith the destruction of her disguising husk.\n\nNow these temporary transformations, though common to the folk-tales\nof all parts of Europe, are not in accordance with the European\nsuperstitions of the present day, nor with those, so far as we are\nacquainted with them, of old European heathenism. The nearest approach\nto them is afforded by the wehr-wolf superstition, but that is an\nisolated belief, and appears to be based upon altogether different\nideas. As to the metamorphoses of classical literature, they are of a\nnature quite alien to that of the voluntary eclipse, under a degrading\nform, of a Frog Princess or a Pig Prince. It may be said with\nconfidence that European \"husk-myths\" do not explain themselves; the\npeasants among whom they are current, cannot explain them; and the\nknowledge we have of ancient European paganism throws no light on\ntheir meaning. But in India, where countless variants of such tales\nexist--many of them preserved in ancient as well as in modern\nliterature, but by far the greater part still current among the\ncommon people--the transformations in question are frequently, if not\ngenerally, explained in the stories themselves, and explained in a\nmanner perfectly in accordance with the Indian thought of the present\nas well as of the past. To Indian minds there is nothing monstrous in\nthe belief that a celestial being may have been condemned, in\nconsequence of the wrath of a superior divinity, or even of the magic\nwords pronounced by an offended sage, to assume for a time the\ninferior form of a mere man or woman, or even to wear the shape of an\ninferior animal--a monkey or a frog; and that this transformation is\nto continue chronic, though not constant, until the destruction of the\ndisguising skin or husk, by the donning of which it is from time to\ntime brought about, deprives the curse of its power, and enables\nearth's celestial visitor to return to heaven. The whole story is\nclosely connected with Indian religious beliefs, and may fairly be\nlooked upon, when found in India, as an expansion of a Hindu myth. Its\nexistence in other parts of Asia may, at least frequently, be\nattributed to the natural spread of Hindu tales among the various\ntribes and nations which accepted Buddhism from India.\n\nIf all this be true, and the \"husk-myth\" stories which are current all\nover Europe may justly be supposed to have drifted westwards from\nIndia, then all Indian variants of these tales naturally become\ninvested with special importance. The specimen in the present volume,\nthe \"Monkey Prince\" (No. 10), belongs to a remarkably interesting\nclass--that in which the story-teller gives an explanation of the\nhero's transformation. A childless king is told by a fak\u00edr to give\nsome mangoes to his seven wives. Six of them eat up the fruit, and\neach of the six gives birth to a prince of the usual kind. But the\nseventh wife, who has been able to obtain as her share only the stone\nof one of the mangoes, \"had a monkey, who was called in consequence\nBandars\u00e1b\u00e1s\u00e1, or Prince Monkey.\" In reality, the story-teller goes on\nto explain, \"he was a boy, but no one knew it, for he had a\nmonkey-skin covering him.\" And this monkey-skin he takes off when he\nwishes to appear in true princely form, as when he woos and wins the\nPrincess Jah\u00faran. Finding out what his real nature is, she insists\nupon marrying him, in spite of her vexed father's natural question:\n\"Who ever heard of any one marrying a nasty monkey?\" When he is alone\nwith his wife he takes off his monkey-skin, and reveals himself in all\nhis beauty, replying to her questions as to its use, \"I wear it as a\nprotection, because my brothers are naughty, and would kill me if they\nknew what I really am.\" On one occasion, when he has gone in state to\na nautch, after taking off his monkey skin, folding it up, and laying\nit under his wife's pillow, she reveals her husband's secret to his\nmother, who, \"though she was very glad her monkey-son had such a wife,\ncould never understand how it was that her daughter-in-law was so\nhappy with him.\" Taking the monkey-skin from under her pillow, \"See,\"\nshe says, \"when your son puts this on, then he is a monkey; when he\ntakes it off he is a beautiful man. And now I think I will burn this\nskin, and then he must always be a man.\" So she throws it into the\nfire. Prince Monkey's heart instantly tells him his wife has burnt his\nskin, and he returns home in a rage. It passes off, however, and all\ngoes well. He now appears always as a beautiful prince, \"with his hair\nall gold.\" \"Why did you wear that monkey-skin?\" naturally asks his\nfather. \"Because,\" he replies, \"my mother ate the mango-stone instead\nof eating the mango, and so I was born with this skin, and God ordered\nme to wear it till I had found a wife.\" The story has evidently been\nconsiderably altered in the course of time from its original form, but\nit still keeps true to its ancient lines. In it, as in many other\nspecimens of the same class, the idea of the degradation of a divine\nor semi-divine being has been lost, and the sufferer is merely a human\nbeing cased in a disfiguring hide. It is noteworthy that, as we are\ninformed at p. 259, Dunkn\u00ed, the narrator of the tale, \"in telling this\nhusk-story, just as often called the monkey-skin a husk, as she called\nit a skin.\"\n\nAnother of the apparently mythological European folk-tales,\ninstructive parallels to which are contained in the present volume, is\nthat which may be designated as the Golden-locks myth. It relates the\nfortunes of a brilliant being, usually a radiant prince, who, often\nwithout any apparent reason, submits himself to a voluntary eclipse,\nhides from sight his grandeur and his good looks, and assumes an\nappearance of squalor and misery. Like Cinderella, whose male\ncounterpart he is, he at times arises from his low estate, becomes\nagain a brilliant prince, but always capriciously eludes those who\nwish to retain him in that shape. At last he is always detected, and\nthen he has to remain constant to his true and magnificent form. His\ntemporary eclipse is somewhat similar to that of the hero of a\nhusk-myth; but no special power is attached to the wrappings under\nwhich his brilliance is concealed, nor is his change of form imposed\nupon him against his will. The meaning of the Golden-locks story, in\nits original form, still remains to be discovered, as also does that\nof the sister tale of Cinderella. That they both refer to the\ntemporary eclipse, seclusion, or obscuration of a brilliant being, is\nevident. But what that brilliant being represents is a problem of\nwhich several solutions have been confidently offered, but which does\nnot seem to have been as yet certainly solved. In the story of \"The\nBoy who had a Moon on his forehead and a Star on his chin\" (No. 20),\nthe self-eclipsing process is brought about by a twist of his right\near; \"when the boy had twisted it, he was no longer a handsome prince,\nbut a poor, common-looking, ugly man; and his moon and star were\nhidden.\" And so, after he has been chosen out of a number of suitors\nby a princess whose heart he has won by the beauty of his singing, he\nrestores himself to his true form by twisting his left ear; after\nwhich operation \"he stood no longer a poor, common, ugly man, but a\ngrand young prince, with a moon on his forehead and a star on his\nchin.\"\n\nA third class of stories for which an Asiatic origin may fairly be\nclaimed, contains those in which figures a monster or demon who cannot\nbe killed until some external object with which his life is\nmysteriously linked has been destroyed. Such a being occurs at times\nin European folk-tales, especially in those of the east and north of\nEurope. The most familiar instance is that of \"The Giant who had no\nHeart in his body\" of the \"Tales from the Norse.\" Some of the best\nspecimens of this kind of monster are to be found in the Russian tales\nabout Koshchei the Deathless. But these remarkably abnormal beings\nscarcely seem at home in western folk-lore. They are but little in\nkeeping with their European surroundings, and never seem to divest\nthemselves of their alien air. In oriental stories, on the other hand,\nthey figure frequently, and they seem to occupy a familiar and an\nappropriate place. The oldest of the world's tales of wonder, the\nEgyptian story of the Two Brothers, contains an heroic being whose\nlife comes to an end when his heart falls to the ground from the tree\nupon which he has hung it. And in the modern folk-tales of India,\ndemons of this kind play their part without exciting any more than\nusual surprise. Miss Frere's Deccan stories make us well acquainted\nwith one of these personages, \"a wicked magician named Punchkin,\"\nwhose name serves as a convenient designation for the long-lived\nmonsters in question. The present collection contains several\nspecimens. In \"Brave H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1lb\u00e1s\u00e1\" (No. 11) we meet with a Rakshas, who\nis induced, as usual by female wiles, to reveal the secret of his\nlife. \"Sixteen miles away from this place,\" he says, \"is a tree. Round\nthe tree are tigers, and bears, and scorpions, and snakes; on the top\nof the tree is a very great flat snake; on his head is a little cage;\nin the cage is a bird; and my soul is in that bird.\" When the bird is\nseized by the hero of the story, the Rakshas feels that something\nterrible has occurred. When the bird's legs and wings are pulled off,\nthe Rakshas becomes a mere head and torso; and when the bird's neck is\nwrung, down falls the Rakshas dead. In like manner, in the tale of\n\"The Demon and the King's Son\" (No. 24), the demon dies when the\nprince has killed a certain bird, the lives of the bird and of the\ndemon being conterminable. According to the narrator Dunkn\u00ed, \"all\nRakshases keep their souls in birds;\" but another authority asserts\n(p. 261) that \"a whole tribe of Rakshases, dwelling in Ceylon, kept\ntheirs in one and the same lemon.\"\n\nThe tale of \"The Voracious Frog\" (No. 6) is a valuable contribution to\nthe store we already possess of what appear to be myths relating to\napparent destruction, but ultimate resuscitation. To this class seem\nto belong the stories on which Little Red Riding Hood was probably\nbased, describing how a wolf or other monster swallowed various\ninnocent beings, but was at last forced to restore them uninjured to\nthe light of day. In its original form the tale may have been a nature\nmyth, illustrating the apparent annihilation brought about by the\ndarkness of night or the cold of winter, and the revival which\naccompanies the return of the day or of spring; or, perhaps, a moral\napologue, intended to suggest that death may not be a lasting\nannihilation. In its modern forms, whether in the east or the west, it\noften assumes a grotesque air. A good illustration of this fact is\nafforded by the well-known Norse tale of \"The Greedy Cat,\" of which\n\"The Voracious Frog\" (No. 6) is an Indian counterpart. The cat, after\ndevouring all that comes in its way, is at last split in half by a\ngoat, whereupon all its victims come forth unhurt. The frog, after\nsimilar feats of gluttony, is cut open by a barber, who, while shaving\nit, thinks that it looks very fat; and its victims also emerge\nuninjured.\n\nThere are many tales now current in different parts of Europe, but\nchiefly in the south and east, which turn upon the relations existing\nbetween human beings and their fates: each person being supposed to\nhave a special fate or fortune, a species of guardian demon, upon\nwhose good will all his or her success in life depends. It is very\ndoubtful whether such stories are products of European fancy, their\nleading ideas seeming to be little in keeping with the religious\nbeliefs--whether of classic times, or of Teutonic, Slavic, or Celtic\nantiquity--respecting either an overruling destiny, or a triad of\nFates or Norns. But in India a belief in a personal \"luck\" has\nprevailed from very early times; and such stories as \"The Man who went\nto seek his Fate\" (No. 12), appear there to be as indigenous as in\nEurope they seem to be exotic. The Servian story, for instance, of the\nman who sets out to look for his fate, and the Sicilian account of how\nthe unfortunate Caterina is persecuted by hers until she discovers its\nhiding-place, and propitiates it by cakes (see Notes, p. 263), have a\nforeign air about them, which does not manifest itself in the Indian\ntale. The likeness between the Servian and the Indian variants of the\nnarrative, especially as regards the questions which the fate-seeker\nis requested by the beings he meets on the way to ask when he arrives\nat his destination, is too great to allow it to be supposed that they\nhave been independently developed from a common germ. They are\nmanifestly, so far as the journey is concerned, copies of the same\nmodel, differing but slightly from each other. But the embodiment of\nthe wayfarer's destiny is quite differently represented in the two\nstories. The Servian pilgrim first discovers his fortune, or rather\nmisfortune, in the person of a hag, who tells him she has been given\nto him as his luck by Fate. Then he seeks out Fate, who appears in\nhuman form. But in the Indian tale, \"the fates are stones, some\nstanding, and others lying on the ground.\" One of the prostrate\nstones, the traveller felt sure, must belong to him. \"This must be\nmine,\" he said; \"it is lying on the ground, that's why I am so poor.\"\nWhereupon he took to beating it, and continued to do so all day. When\nnight came, \"God sent a soul into the poor man's fate, and it became a\nman,\" who satisfied the wanderer's own wishes, and also answered the\nquestions which he had been requested to ask. Then \"God withdrew the\nsoul, and the fate became a stone again, which stood up on the\nground.\"\n\nThere are two stories which enjoy a world-wide popularity in peasant\ncircles, but which have not been made familiar by modern literature to\ncultured children. One of them may for the sake of convenience be\nknown by the name of the Substituted Bride, and the other by that of\nthe Calumniated Wife. The first relates the sorrows of a maiden who is\ncompelled to see an impostor seated in the place which she was\nintended to fill, by the side of the princely husband whom she was\nmeant to wed. The second describes the sufferings long undergone by a\nfaithful wife and tender mother, who is falsely accused of some crime\nby an envious rival, and is hastily punished by her angry lord. In\nboth of them the supernatural usually plays a part, but their main\ninterests are always human, and it is easier to sympathize with their\nheroines than with most of the similar characters of popular fiction.\nYet those ill-used but patient princesses are but little known to the\nthousands of story-readers who are familiar with the adventures of\nCinderella and the Sleeping Beauty, Little Red Riding Hood, and the\nwives of Bluebeard and of the Beast. They have at various times\nentered into literature, but not into that section of it which has\nsupplied our nursery fiction. They figure in most of the now so\nnumerous collections of folk-tales, but they have not been introduced\ninto society by the novelists or playwrights who have made their\nsister-sufferers undying favourites. They are essentially moral tales,\ntheir good characters bearing their unmerited misfortunes with\nunvarying meekness and patience, and being ultimately rewarded, while\nthe envious and malicious rivals who have supplanted or slandered them\nare punished in the end. But they have not taken a firm hold on the\nwest, where they are probably destined to become forgotten when the\nprogress of education has replaced folk-lore by literature, while they\nare likely to go on living for ages in the east, which seems to have\nbeen their original home.\n\nIn the present collection the story of the Substituted Princess occurs\nseveral times. In \"Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed\" the heroine is a wife instead of a\nbride, which makes the substitution more than usually improbable. As\nshe and her husband are resting beside a tank, a shoemaker's wife\ncomes up, and pushes her into the water, in which she is drowned. The\nshoemaker's wife takes her place, though she is \"very black and ugly,\"\none-eyed, and exceedingly wicked. It may be remarked that the\nsubstitution in question generally takes place by the side of water.\nIn the \"B\u00e9l-Princess,\" the beautiful maiden who has come out of the\nfruit which the prince opened by the side of a well, is pushed into\nthe water, while the prince is asleep, by a wicked woman, very ugly,\nand with \"something wrong with one of her eyes,\" who then assumes her\nplace. In tales like the story of \"The Princess who loved her Father\nlike Salt,\" the transformation scene is of a different nature, though\nthe leading idea of the change is the same. It is not an ordinary\nbride or wife who is supplanted, and the substitution need not take\nplace beside water. The heroine is a stranger who, generally after\nlong wanderings, finds a prince really or apparently dead, by patient\nwatching all but effects his cure, but is at the last moment\nsupplanted by a servant, who gives the final touch to the work, claims\nits entire merit, and is made the wife of the grateful patient. In the\nIndian tale the prince lies motionless, his body \"stuck full of\nneedles.\" The heroine sits down by the side of his couch, and there\nremains for a whole week \"without eating, or drinking, or sleeping,\npulling out the needles.\" At the end of two weeks more the needles are\nall extracted, except those in the eyes. She then goes away to bathe;\nand while she is absent, a servant maid whom she has left in charge of\nthe body pulls out the remaining needles. The prince opens his eyes,\nthanks God for bringing him to life again, and makes the servant maid\nhis wife. The substitution is similar to that which takes place in\nsuch stories as the Norse \"Bushy Bride;\" but closer parallels are\nsupplied by some of the stories of southern Europe. Mrs. Stokes refers\nin her Notes to the dead prince in one of Gonzenbach's Sicilian tales,\nwho is brought to life by a wandering princess, who for more than\nseven years rubs his body with grass from Mount Calvary. Pitre's great\ncollection of Sicilian _Fiabe_ also offers several variants of the\nsubstitution story, in some of which occurs the singular incident,\nknown also to Swedish and Finnish folk-tales, of the imprisonment of\nthe heroine, after she has been flung into the sea, by a submarine\nsupernatural being. In some instances it is not water which the\nheroine has to dread, but light. The true bride must be conveyed to\nthe bridegroom's palace in a darkened vehicle. Her supplanter draws\naside a curtain. The sunlight shines in. The princess turns into a\nlizard or some other animal, and the false bride takes her place.\n\nThe Calumniated Wife story which occurs in No. 20 of the present\ncollection, closely resembles many European variants. A king hears a\ngirl say that when she is married she will have a son with a moon on\nhis forehead and a star on his chin. So he marries her. She gives\nbirth to a boy who really is thus decorated. But the king's other\nwives, naturally jealous of her, put a stone in her bed, and pretend\nthat it is the object which she has brought into the world, upon which\nshe is disgraced and turned into a servant maid. In other variants of\nthe story she is often accused of having murdered her children, and\neven eaten them. In one instance her mortified husband is represented\nas twice forgiving her, after remonstrating with her on her inordinate\nappetite, but as thinking it necessary to take some precautions when\nthe possibility of her committing the crime for the third time makes\nitself manifest. Sometimes all the innocent wives of a king are\naccused of murderous habits by a guilty wife, who is in reality a\ndestroying and devouring demon. Such is the case in No. 20 of the\npresent collection, which ends with the restoration of the seven\ncalumniated wives, and the death by burning of the demon spouse.\n\n * * * * *\n\nBesides illustrating the themes or leading ideas of many groups of\nEuropean tales, these Indian stories frequently serve to throw light\nupon some of their obscurer features, or at least to offer such\nparallels to them as are useful contributions to our stock of\nmaterials for a systematic classification. Among the strange\ncharacters who figure in European folk tales, there are few more\npuzzling than the fair maidens who are at times discovered inside\nfruits, and who must be provided with water to drink the moment they\nemerge into the light, or else they will die. They seem properly to\nbelong to the south and east of Europe, to such countries, for\ninstance, as Greece, Sicily, and Wallachia. When they are found\nelsewhere, as in the Norse tale of \"The Three Lemons,\" the very name\nof which speaks of the sunny south, they seem out of keeping with\ntheir surroundings. In these Indian stories, the enclosure of a\nheroine in a fruit is an incident which does not appear to be more\nthan usually amazing. The need of immediate water drinking is not\nreferred to. But the hero is warned (p. 81) that he must not open the\nfruit in public, because the enclosed maiden will be quite destitute\nof clothes. In another story which is widely spread over Europe--but\nwhich we know best in the form of the tale of \"The Blue Bird,\" founded\nupon the theme of \"The Lay of Ywonec,\" by Marie de France--the\nmurderous means by which the bird-lover is all but done to death by\njealous hands, which set sharp knives in the narrow opening through\nwhich he has to fly, or beset his path with some other instruments of\nill, find their counterpart in the powdered glass employed to injure\nthe hero of the \"The Fan Prince\" (No. 25). His wife's six sisters, who\n\"were angry at their youngest sister being married, while they who\nwere older were not married,\" insist upon making his bed, and cover\nthe spot on which he is to lie with the powder into which they have\nground a glass bottle. Whereupon the prince becomes very ill, from the\nglass powder going into his flesh.\n\nThe ordinary opening of many familiar folk-tales, including the\n\"Beauty and the Beast\" story, finds a parallel in the same Indian tale\n(p. 195). In all of them a man, when starting on a journey, promises\nhis youngest daughter that he will bring her back some object. This he\nforgets to obtain. On his homeward journey, his ship refuses to move\nuntil he has acquired the object in question. The Indian parent\npromised to bring home Sabr to his daughter, having no idea what Sabr\nmeant. Not having obtained it, he set out on his homeward journey.\n\"But the boat would not move, because he had forgotten one thing--the\nthing his youngest daughter had asked for.\" Sabr turns out to be a\nfairy prince. It is a common incident in Indian tales for a hero or\nheroine to demand a spouse, generally of a more or less supernatural\nnature, whose name is known but nothing more. Just as the Fan Prince\nwas demanded, under the apparently meaningless name of Sabr, so is the\nhand of the Princess Lab\u00e1m longed for by the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son in No. 22,\nalthough her existence was unknown to him till he heard a parrot\npronounce her name one day; and so is the acquisition of a\nB\u00e9l-Princess resolved upon by the prince in No. 21, because his\nsisters-in-law say to him, in a disagreeable manner, \"We think that\nyou will marry a B\u00e9l-Princess.\" M\u00faniy\u00e1, the narrator of the story,\n\"says that telling the prince he would marry a B\u00e9l-Princess was\nequivalent to saying he would not marry at all; for these brothers'\nwives knew she lived in the fairy country, and that it would be very\ndifficult, if not impossible, for the prince to find her, and take her\nfrom it.\" But this seems to be merely a rationalistic view of the\nmatter. Some mystery seems to underlie these suggestions of, or\ndesires for, unions with unfamiliar beings. They occur not\nunfrequently in Russian tales. In one of Afanasief's skazkas (vol.\nvii., No. 6) a baby prince cries, and refuses to go to sleep, till his\nroyal father rocks his cradle, crooning the while, \"Sleep, beloved\none! When you grow up you shall marry Never-enough-to-be-gazed-at\nBeauty, daughter of three mothers, sister of nine brothers.\" Having\nslept vigorously, the baby awakes, asks for the king's blessing, and\nsets out in search of the unknown Beauty in question. In another (vol.\ni., No. 14), Prince Ivan, having married his three sisters to the\nWind, the Hail, and the Thunder, wanders forth in search of a bride.\nFinding the remains of two slaughtered armies, and discovering that\ntheir slaughterer was named Anastasia the Fair, he resolves, though\nknowing nothing else about her, to make her his wife. Among the\nnumerous minor incidents which are common to eastern and western\nfolk-tales, may be mentioned the aid lent to heroes in difficulties by\nMagic Instruments, as in No. 22, or by Grateful Beasts, as in No. 24.\nA belief in magic is of course world-wide, but the particular\ninstruments referred to seem to have good reasons for claiming an\noriental extraction. The stories in which stress is laid upon the\ngratitude of the inferior animals are almost always derivable from the\neast; especially if, as in the correct versions of the tale on which\nPuss in Boots is founded, their gratitude is contrasted with the\ningratitude of that superior animal, man. When we meet with so close a\nresemblance as exists between the miracle wrought by Shekh Far\u00edd (p.\n97), who turns the lying carter's sugar into ashes, and that\nattributed to St. Brigit, who turns the liar's salt into stones, we\nneed have little scruple about referring both stories to the same\nsource and, considering how much monastic legend-writers were indebted\nto oriental fancy, in locating that source in the east.\n\nThe comic elements of eastern and western folk-lore are closely akin,\nand the Lie-stories, or _L\u00fcgenm\u00e4rchen_, in Nos. 4, 8, and 17 of these\nIndian Tales find their parallels in most European collections. As an\nexample of the close kinship which prevails among the jests which make\nmerry the hearts of men far apart from each other, we may take the\nIndian story of \"Foolish Sach\u00fal\u00ed,\" and compare it with the Russian\ntale of \"The Fool and the Birch Tree\" (Afanasief, vol. v., No. 22).\nSach\u00fal\u00ed kills a woman; his Russian counterpart kills a man. The corpse\nof the woman is hidden away in a well, that of the man in a cellar. In\neach case the fool's sensible relatives, knowing that he will be sure\nto tell the truth if he is asked, withdraw the body during his\nabsence, and substitute for it that of an animal killed for the\npurpose. When the seekers after the victim arrive at Sach\u00fal\u00ed's home,\nhe at once conducts them to the well. Being let down into it, he asks,\n\"Has she got eyes?\" \"Of course, every one has eyes,\" is the reply.\n\"Has she a nose?\" \"Yes, she has a nose.\" But at last he inquires if\nshe has four feet; and the seekers after the dead woman find that the\nbody in the well is that of a sheep. In the same way, when the Russian\nfool has confessed his guilt, and has gone into the cellar to look for\nhis victim's remains, he finds there the body of a goat. So he calls\nout to the anxious inquirers, \"Was your man dark-haired?\" \"He was.\"\n\"And had he a beard?\" \"Yes, he had a beard.\" \"And had he horns?\" \"What\nhorns are you talking about, fool?\" they reply. So he hands up the\ngoat's head, and the Russian tale comes to the same conclusion as the\nIndian. The likeness here is too strong to be attributed to an\naccidental coincidence.\n\n * * * * *\n\nIt does not, of course, follow that, because a story is found both in\nEurope and Asia, therefore the western version has been borrowed from\nthe east. Europe has, doubtless, sometimes lent a fancy to Asia. Greek\nfables are supposed to have exercised an influence upon the Indian\nmind. European missionaries may have sometimes rendered a Christian\nlegend current among Hindus. Professor Monier Williams was assured by\nan intelligent native that the spread of railways had materially\ndiminished the number of malignant ghosts in India. Still, as a\ngeneral rule, the east is stubbornly conservative. The Japanese, it is\ntrue, are abandoning their own costume and art for ours, not entirely\nto their advantage. But the various peoples of India have never shown\nany such tendencies towards change. In their popular fiction, at all\nevents, they have never shown an inclination to import foreign\nmanufactures in order to replace their home products. In their\nthoughts and feelings they are now very much what they have been for\nperiods of time which it would be difficult to define. When we find\nstories now current in all parts of India, which we know from their\noccurrence in Sanskrit literature must have existed there very long\nago, and we see that the mythological element in those stories is in\naccordance with religious ideas that have prevailed there for\ncountless centuries, we can have no doubt that these stories were\nframed there at a very early period. Then if we find almost identical\nstories current in all parts of Europe, many of their at least\napparently mythological features offering difficulties which cannot be\nremoved by a reference to the mythologies of the heathen ancestors of\nthe peasants who now repeat them, it seems not unreasonable to come to\nthe conclusion that such stories have been borrowed by the west from\nthe east. From mythological germs common to European and Asiatic\nAryans, it is quite true that legends might arise in Europe and in\nAsia, independent of each other, but similar in their general tenor.\nBut it is not likely that out of any common germ could be\nindependently developed in several different countries as many\nvariants of the same tale, in each of which there is a similar\nsequence of scenes or acts, and the dramatic action is brought to a\nclose by a termination that scarcely ever varies. Far more difficult\nis it to believe in such a triumph of independent development, than to\nplace reliance upon a statement to the effect that the wave of\nstory-telling, as well as of empire, has wended its way westward.\n\n W. R. S. RALSTON.\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n PAGE\n\n I. PH\u00daLMATI R\u00c1N\u00cd, OR THE FLOWER LADY 1\n\n II. THE POMEGRANATE KING 7\n\n III. THE CAT AND THE DOG 15\n\n IV. THE CAT WHICH COULD NOT BE KILLED 18\n\n V. THE JACKAL AND THE KITE 21\n\n VI. THE VORACIOUS FROG 24\n\n VII. THE STORY OF FOOLISH SACH\u00daL\u00cd 27\n\n VIII. BARBER H\u00cdM AND THE TIGERS 35\n\n IX. THE BULBUL AND THE COTTON-TREE 39\n\n X. THE MONKEY PRINCE 41\n\n XI. BRAVE H\u00cdR\u00c1L\u00c1LB\u00c1S\u00c1 51\n\n XII. THE MAN WHO WENT TO SEEK HIS FATE 63\n\n XIII. THE UPRIGHT KING 68\n\n XIV. LOVING LAIL\u00cd 73\n\n XV. HOW KING BURTAL BECAME A FAK\u00cdR 85\n\n XVI. SOME OF THE DOINGS OF SHEKH FAR\u00cdD 95\n\n XVII. THE MOUSE 101\n\n XVIII. A WONDERFUL STORY 108\n\n XIX. THE FAK\u00cdR N\u00c1NAKS\u00c1 SAVES THE MERCHANT'S LIFE 114\n\n XX. THE BOY WHO HAD A MOON ON HIS FOREHEAD AND A STAR\n ON HIS CHIN 119\n\n XXI. THE B\u00c9L-PRINCESS 138\n\n XXII. HOW THE R\u00c1J\u00c1'S SON WON THE PRINCESS LAB\u00c1M 153\n\n XXIII. THE PRINCESS WHO LOVED HER FATHER LIKE SALT 164\n\n XXIV. THE DEMON IS AT LAST CONQUERED BY THE KING'S SON 173\n\n XXV. THE FAN PRINCE 193\n\n XXVI. THE BED 201\n\n XXVII. P\u00c1NWPATT\u00cd R\u00c1N\u00cd 208\n\n XXVIII. THE CLEVER WIFE 216\n\n XXIX. R\u00c1J\u00c1 HARICHAND'S PUNISHMENT 224\n\n XXX. THE KING'S SON AND THE WAZ\u00cdR'S DAUGHTER 234\n\n NOTES 237\n\n GLOSSARY 295\n\n LIST OF BOOKS REFERRED TO 297\n\n INDEX 299\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nINDIAN FAIRY TALES.\n\nI.\n\nPH\u00daLMATI R\u00c1N\u00cd.\n\n\nThere were once a R\u00e1j\u00e1 and a R\u00e1n\u00ed who had an only daughter called the\nPh\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed, or the Pink-rose Queen. She was so beautiful that if\nshe went into a very dark room it was all lighted up by her beauty. On\nher head was the sun; on her hands, moons; and her face was covered\nwith stars. She had hair that reached to the ground, and it was made\nof pure gold.\n\nEvery day after she had had her bath, her father and mother used to\nweigh her in a pair of scales. She only weighed one flower. She ate\nvery, very little food. This made her father most unhappy, and he\nsaid, \"I cannot let my daughter marry any one who weighs more than one\nflower.\" Now, God loved this girl dearly, so he went down under the\nground to see if any of the fairy R\u00e1j\u00e1s was fit to be the Ph\u00falmati\nR\u00e1n\u00ed's husband, and he thought none of them good enough. So he went in\nthe form of a Fak\u00edr to see the great Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1 who ruled over all\nthe other fairy R\u00e1j\u00e1s. This R\u00e1j\u00e1 was exceedingly beautiful. On his\nhead was the sun; and on his hands, moons; and on his face, stars. God\nmade him weigh very little. Then he said to the R\u00e1j\u00e1, \"Come up with\nme, and we will go to the palace of the Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed.\" God had told\nthe R\u00e1j\u00e1 that he was God and not a Fak\u00edr, for he loved the Indr\u00e1san\nR\u00e1j\u00e1. \"Very well,\" said the Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1. So they travelled on until\nthey came to the Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed's palace. When they arrived there they\npitched a tent in her compound, and they used to walk about, and\nwhenever they saw the Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed they looked at her. One day they\nsaw her having her hair combed, so God said to the Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1, \"Get\na horse and ride where the Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed can see you, and if any one\nasks you who you are, say, 'Oh, it's only a poor Fak\u00edr, and I am his\nson. We have come to stay here a little while just to see the country.\nWe will go away very soon.'\" Well, he got a horse and rode about, and\nPh\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed, who was having her hair combed in the verandah, said,\n\"I am sure that must be some R\u00e1j\u00e1; only see how beautiful he is.\" And\nshe sent one of her servants to ask him who he was. So the servant\nsaid to the Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1, \"Who are you? why are you here? what do you\nwant?\" \"Oh, it's only a poor Fak\u00edr, and I am his son. We have just\ncome here for a little while to see the country. We will go away very\nsoon.\" So the servants returned to the Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed and told her what\nthe Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1 had said. The Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed told her father about\nthis. The next day, when the Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed and her father were\nstanding in the verandah, God took a pair of scales and weighed the\nIndr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1 in them. His weight was only that of one flower! \"Oh,\"\nsaid the R\u00e1j\u00e1, when he saw that, \"here is the husband for the Ph\u00falmati\nR\u00e1n\u00ed!\" The next day, after the Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed had had her bath, her\nfather took her and weighed her, and he also weighed the Indr\u00e1san\nR\u00e1j\u00e1. And they were each the same weight. Each weighed one flower,\nalthough the Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1 was fat and the Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed thin. The\nnext day they were married, and there was a grand wedding. God said he\nwas too poor-looking to appear, so he bought a quantity of elephants,\nand camels, and horses, and cows, and sheep, and goats, and made a\nprocession, and came to the wedding. Then he went back to heaven, but\nbefore he went he said to the Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1 \"You must stay here one\nwhole year; then go back to your father and to your kingdom. As long\nas you put flowers on your ears no danger will come near you.\" (This\nwas in order that the fairies might know that he was a very great R\u00e1j\u00e1\nand not hurt him.) \"All right,\" said the Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1. And God went\nback to heaven.\n\nSo the Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1 stayed for a whole year. Then he told the R\u00e1j\u00e1,\nthe Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed's father, that he wished to go back to his own\nkingdom. \"All right,\" said the R\u00e1j\u00e1, and he wanted to give him horses,\nand camels, and elephants. But the Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1 and the Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed\nsaid they wanted nothing but a tent and a cooly. Well, they set out;\nbut the Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1 forgot to put flowers on his ears, and after\nsome days the Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1 was very, very tired, so he said, \"We will\nsit down under these big trees and rest awhile. Our baggage will soon\nbe here; it is only a little way behind.\" So they sat down, and the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1 said he felt so tired he must sleep. \"Very well,\" said the R\u00e1n\u00ed;\n\"lay your head in my lap and sleep.\" After a while a shoemaker's wife\ncame by to get some water from a tank which was close to the spot\nwhere the R\u00e1j\u00e1 and R\u00e1n\u00ed were resting. Now, the shoemaker's wife was\nvery black and ugly, and she had only one eye, and she was exceedingly\nwicked. The R\u00e1n\u00ed was very thirsty and she said to the woman, \"Please\ngive me some water, I am so thirsty.\" \"If you want any,\" said the\nshoemaker's wife, \"come to the tank and get it yourself.\" \"But I\ncannot,\" said the R\u00e1n\u00ed, \"for the R\u00e1j\u00e1 is sleeping in my lap.\" At last\nthe poor R\u00e1n\u00ed got so very, very thirsty, she said she must have some\nwater; so laying the R\u00e1j\u00e1's head very gently on the ground she went to\nthe tank. Then the wicked shoemaker's wife, instead of giving her to\ndrink, gave her a push and sent the beautiful R\u00e1n\u00ed into the water,\nwhere she was drowned. The shoemaker's wife then went back to the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1, and, taking his head on her knee, sat still until he woke. When\nthe R\u00e1j\u00e1 woke he was much frightened, and he said, \"This is not my\nwife. My wife was not black, and she had two eyes.\" The poor R\u00e1j\u00e1 felt\nvery unhappy. He said, \"I am sure something has happened to my wife.\"\nHe went to the tank, and he saw flowers floating on the water and he\ncaught them, and as he caught them his own true wife stood before him.\n\nThey travelled on till they came to a little house. The shoemaker's\nwife went with them. They went into the house and laid themselves down\nto sleep, and the R\u00e1j\u00e1 laid beside him the flowers he had found\nfloating in the tank. The R\u00e1n\u00ed's life was in the flowers. As soon as\nthe R\u00e1j\u00e1 and R\u00e1n\u00ed were asleep, the shoemaker's wife took the flowers,\nbroke them into little bits, and burnt them. The R\u00e1n\u00ed died\nimmediately, for the second time. Then the poor R\u00e1j\u00e1, feeling very\nlonely and unhappy, travelled on to his kingdom, and the shoemaker's\nwife went after him. God brought the Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed to life a second\ntime, and led her to the Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1's gardener.\n\nOne day as the Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1 was going out hunting, he passed by the\ngardener's house, and saw a beautiful girl sitting in it. He thought\nshe looked very like his wife, the Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed. So he went home to\nhis father and said, \"Father, I should like to be married to the girl\nwho lives in our gardener's house.\" \"All right,\" said the father; \"you\ncan be married at once.\" So they were married the next day.\n\nOne night the shoemaker's wife took a ram, killed it, and put some of\nits blood on the Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed's mouth while the R\u00e1n\u00ed slept. The next\nmorning she went to the Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1 and said, \"Whom have you\nmarried? You have married a Rakshas. Just see. She has been eating\ncows, and sheep, and chickens. Just come and see.\" The R\u00e1j\u00e1 went, and\nwhen he saw the blood on his wife's mouth he was frightened, and he\nthought she was really a Rakshas. The shoemaker's wife said to him,\n\"If you do not cut this woman in pieces, some harm will happen to\nyou.\" So the R\u00e1j\u00e1 took a knife and cut his beautiful wife into pieces.\nHe then went away very sorrowful. The Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed's arms and legs\ngrew into four houses; her chest became a tank, and her head a house\nin the middle of the tank; her eyes turned into two little doves; and\nthese five houses, the tank and the doves, were transported to the\njungle. No one knew this. The little doves lived in the house that\nstood in the middle of the tank. The other four houses stood round the\ntank.\n\nOne day when the Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1 was hunting by himself in the jungle he\nwas very tired, and he saw the house in the tank. So he said, \"I will\ngo into that house to rest a little while, and to-morrow I will return\nhome to my father.\" So, tying his horse outside, he went into the\nhouse and lay down to sleep. By and by, the two little birds came and\nperched on the roof above his head. They began to talk, and the R\u00e1j\u00e1\nlistened. The little husband-dove said to his wife, \"This is the man\nwho cut his wife to pieces.\" And then he told her how the Indr\u00e1san\nR\u00e1j\u00e1 had married the beautiful Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed, who weighed only one\nflower, and how the shoemaker's wife had drowned her; how God had\nbrought her to life again; how the shoemaker's wife had burned her;\nand last of all, how the R\u00e1j\u00e1 himself had cut her to pieces. \"And\ncannot the R\u00e1j\u00e1 find her again?\" said the little wife-dove. \"Oh, yes,\nhe can,\" said her husband, \"but he does not know how to do so.\" \"But\ndo tell me how he can find her,\" said the little wife-dove. \"Well,\"\nsaid her husband, \"every night, at twelve o'clock, the R\u00e1n\u00ed and her\nservants come to bathe in the tank. Her servants wear yellow dresses,\nbut she wears a red one. Now, if the R\u00e1j\u00e1 could get all their dresses,\nevery one, when they lay them down and go into the tank to bathe, and\nthrow away all the yellow dresses one by one, keeping only the red\none, he would recover his wife.\"\n\nThe R\u00e1j\u00e1 heard all these things, and at midnight the R\u00e1n\u00ed and her\nservants came to bathe. The R\u00e1j\u00e1 lay very quiet, and after they all\nhad taken off their dresses and gone into the tank, he jumped up and\nseized every one of the dresses,--he did not leave one of them,--and\nran away as hard as he could. Then each of the servants, who were only\nfairies, screamed out, \"Give me my dress! What are you doing? why do\nyou take it away?\" Then the R\u00e1j\u00e1 dropped one by one the yellow dresses\nand kept the red one. The fairy servants picked up the dresses, and\nforsook the Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed and ran away. The R\u00e1j\u00e1 came back to her with\nher dress in his hand, and she said, \"Oh, give me back my dress. If\nyou keep it I shall die. Three times has God brought me to life, but\nhe will bring me to life no more.\" The R\u00e1j\u00e1 fell at her feet and\nbegged her pardon, and they were reconciled. And he gave her back her\ndress. Then they went home, and Indr\u00e1san R\u00e1j\u00e1 had the shoemaker's wife\ncut to pieces, and buried in the jungle. And they lived happily ever\nafter.\n\n Told by Dunkn\u00ed at Simla, July 25th, 1876.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nII.\n\nTHE POMEGRANATE KING.\n\n\nThere was once a Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1, called the An\u00e1rb\u00e1s\u00e1, or Pomegranate King;\nand a Mah\u00e1r\u00e1n\u00ed called the Gul\u00edan\u00e1r, or Pomegranate-flower. The\nMah\u00e1r\u00e1n\u00ed died leaving two children: a little girl of four or five\nyears old, and a little boy of three. The Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 was very sorry when\nshe died, for he loved her dearly. He was exceedingly fond of his two\nchildren, and got for them two servants: a man to cook their dinner,\nand an ayah to take care of them. He also had them taught to read and\nwrite. Soon after his wife's death the neighbouring R\u00e1j\u00e1's daughter's\nhusband died, and she said if any other R\u00e1j\u00e1 would marry her, she\nwould be quite willing to marry him, and she also said she would like\nvery much to marry the Pomegranate R\u00e1j\u00e1. So her father went to see the\nPomegranate R\u00e1j\u00e1, and told him that his daughter wished to marry him.\n\"Oh,\" said the Pomegranate R\u00e1j\u00e1, \"I do not want to marry again, for if\nI do, the woman I marry will be sure to be unkind to my two children.\nShe will not take care of them. She will not pet them and comfort them\nwhen they are unhappy.\" \"Oh,\" said the other R\u00e1j\u00e1, \"my daughter will\nbe very good to them, I assure you.\" \"Very well,\" said the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1,\n\"I will marry her.\" So they were married.\n\nFor two or three months everything went on well, but then the new\nR\u00e1n\u00ed, who was called the Sunk\u00e1s\u00ed Mah\u00e1r\u00e1n\u00ed, began to beat the poor\nchildren, and to scold their servants. One day she gave the boy such\na hard blow on his cheek that it swelled. When the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 came out\nof his office to get his tiffin, he saw the boy's swollen face, and,\ncalling the two servants, he said, \"Who did this? how did my boy get\nhurt?\" They said, \"The R\u00e1n\u00ed gave him such a hard blow on his cheek\nthat it swelled, and she gets very angry with us if we say anything\nabout her ill-treatment of the children, or how she scolds us.\" The\nMah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 was exceedingly angry with his wife for this, and said to\nher, \"I never beat my children. Why should you beat them? If you beat\nthem I will send you away.\" And he went off to his office in a great\nrage. The R\u00e1n\u00ed was very angry. So she told the little girl to go with\nthe ayah to the bazar. The ayah and the little girl set off, never\nsuspecting any evil. As soon as they had gone, the R\u00e1n\u00ed took the\nlittle boy and told him she would kill him. The boy went down on his\nknees and begged her to spare his life. But she said, \"No; your father\nis always quarrelling with me, beating me, and scolding me, all\nthrough your fault.\" The boy begged and prayed again, saying he would\nnever be naughty any more. The R\u00e1n\u00ed shook her head, and taking a large\nknife she cut off his head. She then cut him up and made him into a\ncurry. She then buried his head, and his nails, and his feet in the\nground, and she covered them well with earth, and stamped the ground\nwell down so that no one should notice it had been disturbed. When the\nPomegranate R\u00e1j\u00e1 came home to his dinner, she put the curry and some\nrice on the table before him; but the R\u00e1j\u00e1, seeing his boy was not\nthere, would not eat. He went and looked everywhere for his son,\ncrying very much, and the little girl cried very much too, for she\nloved her brother dearly. After they had hunted for him for some time,\nthe little boy appeared. His father embraced him. \"Where have you\nbeen?\" said he. \"I cannot eat my dinner without you.\" The little boy\nsaid, \"Oh, I was in the jungle playing with other boys.\" They then\nsat down to dinner, and the curry changed into a kid curry. The R\u00e1n\u00ed\nwas greatly astonished when she saw the boy. She said to herself, \"I\ncut his head off; I cut him into little pieces, and I made him into a\ncurry, and yet he is alive!\" She then went into the garden to see if\nhis head, and nails, and feet were in the hole where she had buried\nthem. But they were not there; it was quite empty. She then called a\nsepoy, and said to him, \"If you will take two children into the jungle\nand kill them, I will give you as much money as you like.\" \"All\nright,\" said the sepoy. She then brought the children, and told him to\ntake them to the jungle. So he took them away to the jungle, but he\nhad not the heart to kill them, for they were exceedingly beautiful,\nand he left them in the jungle near their dead mother's grave. Then he\nreturned to the R\u00e1n\u00ed, saying he had done as she wished, and she gave\nhim as much money as he wanted.\n\nThe poor Pomegranate R\u00e1j\u00e1 was very unhappy when he saw his children\nwere not in the palace, and that they could not be found. He asked his\nR\u00e1n\u00ed where they were, but she said she did not know; they had gone out\nto play and had never returned. From the day he lost his children the\nPomegranate R\u00e1j\u00e1 became melancholy. He did not love the R\u00e1n\u00ed any more;\nhe hated her.\n\nMeanwhile the children lived in a little house built close to their\nmother's grave. God had given her life again that she might take care\nof them. But they did not know she was their mother; they thought she\nwas another woman sent to take care of them. God sent also a man to\nteach them. Somehow or other the R\u00e1n\u00ed Sunk\u00e1s\u00ed heard they were still\nalive in the jungle. She did not know how she could kill them. So at\nlast she pretended she was very ill, and she said to the R\u00e1j\u00e1, \"The\ndoctor says that in the jungle there are two children, and he says if\nyou will have them killed, and will bring their livers for me to\nstand on when I bathe, then I shall get well.\" The R\u00e1j\u00e1 sent a second\nsepoy to kill the children, and this man killed them and brought their\nlivers to the R\u00e1n\u00ed. She stood on them while bathing, and then said she\nwas quite well. She then threw the livers into the garden, and during\nthe night a tree grew up there with two large beautiful flowers on it.\nNext morning the R\u00e1n\u00ed looked out and said, \"I will gather those\nflowers to-day.\" Every day she said she would gather them, and every\nday she forgot. At last one day she said, \"Every day I forget to\ngather those flowers, but to-day I really will do so,\" and she sent\nher servant to pluck them. So he went out, and, just as he was going\nto gather them, the flowers flew up just out of his reach. Then the\nR\u00e1n\u00ed went down, and when she was going to pick them they flew up so\nhigh that they could not be seen. Every day she tried to gather them,\nand every day they went high up, and came back again to the tree as\nsoon as she had gone. Then the flowers disappeared and two large\nfruits came in their stead. The R\u00e1n\u00ed looked out of her window: \"Oh,\nwhat delicious fruits! I'll eat them all myself. I won't give a bit to\nanybody, and I'll eat them by myself quite quietly.\" She went down to\nthe garden, but they flew high up into the sky, and then they came\ndown again. So this went on, day after day, until she got so cross she\nordered the tree to be cut down. But it was of no use. The tree was\ncut down, but the fruits flew high up into the sky, and in the night\nthe tree grew up again and the fruits came back again to it. And so\nthis went on for many days. Every day she cut down the tree, and every\nnight it grew up again, but she could never get the fruits. At last\nshe became very angry, and had the tree hewn into tiny bits and all\nthe bits thrown away, but still the tree grew again in the night, and\nin the morning the fruits were hanging on it. So she went to the R\u00e1j\u00e1\nand told him that in the garden was a tree with two fruits, and every\ntime she tried to get them, the fruits went up into the air. She had\nhad the tree cut down ever so many times, and it always grew up again\nin the night and the fruits returned to it. \"Why cannot you leave the\ntree alone?\" said the R\u00e1j\u00e1. \"But I should like to see if what you say\nis true.\" So the R\u00e1j\u00e1 and the R\u00e1n\u00ed went down to the garden, and the\nR\u00e1n\u00ed tried to get the fruits, but she could not, for they went right\nup into the air.\n\nThat evening the R\u00e1j\u00e1 went alone to the garden to gather the fruits,\nand the fruits of themselves fell into his hand. He took them into his\nroom, and putting them on a little table close to his bed, he lay down\nto sleep. As soon as he was in bed a little voice inside one of the\nfruits said, \"Brother;\" and a little voice in the other fruit said,\n\"Sister, speak more gently. To-morrow the R\u00e1j\u00e1 will break open the\nfruits, and if the R\u00e1n\u00ed finds us she will kill us. Three times has God\nmade us alive again, but if we die a fourth time he will bring us to\nlife no more.\" The R\u00e1j\u00e1 listened and said, \"I will break them open in\na little while.\" Then he went to sleep, and after a little he woke and\nsaid, \"A little while longer,\" and went to sleep again. Several times\nhe woke up and said, \"I will break the fruits open in a little while,\"\nand went to sleep. At last he took a knife and began cutting the\nfruits open very fast, and the little boy cried, \"Gently, gently,\nfather; you hurt us!\" So then the R\u00e1j\u00e1 cut more gently, and he stopped\nto ask, \"Are you hurt?\" and they said, \"No.\" And then he cut again and\nasked, \"Are you hurt?\" and they said, \"No.\" And a third time he asked,\n\"Are you hurt?\" and they answered, \"No.\" Then the fruits broke open\nand his two children jumped out. They rushed into their father's arms,\nand he clasped them tight, and they cried softly, that the R\u00e1n\u00ed might\nnot hear.\n\nHe shut his room up close, and fed and dressed his children, and then\nwent out of the room, locking the door behind him. He had a little\nwooden house built that could easily catch fire, and as soon as it was\nready he went to the R\u00e1n\u00ed and said, \"Will you go into a little house I\nhave made ready for you while your room is getting repaired?\" \"All\nright,\" said the R\u00e1n\u00ed; so she went into the little house, and that\nnight a man set it on fire, and the R\u00e1n\u00ed and everything in it was\nburnt up. Then the Pomegranate R\u00e1j\u00e1 took her bones, put them into a\ntin box, and sent them as a present to her mother. \"Oh,\" said the\nmother, \"my daughter has married the Pomegranate Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1, and so she\nsends me some delicious food.\" When she opened the box, to her horror\nshe found only bones! Then she wrote to the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1, \"Of what use are\nbones?\" The Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 wrote back, \"They are your bones; they belong to\nyou, for they are your daughter's bones. She ill-treated and killed my\nchildren, and so I had her burnt.\"\n\nThe Pomegranate R\u00e1j\u00e1 and his children lived very happily for some\ntime, and their dead mother, the Gul\u00edan\u00e1r R\u00e1n\u00ed, having a wish to see\nher husband and her children, prayed to God to let her go and visit\nthem. God said she could go, but not in her human shape, so he changed\nher into a beautiful bird, and put a pin in her head, and said, \"As\nsoon as the pin is pulled out you will become a woman again.\" She flew\nto the palace where the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 lived, and there were great trees\nabout the palace. On one of these she perched at night. The doorkeeper\nwas lying near it. She called out, \"Doorkeeper! doorkeeper!\" and he\nanswered, \"What is it? Who is it?\" And she asked, \"Is the R\u00e1j\u00e1 well?\"\nand the doorkeeper said, \"Yes.\" \"Are the children well?\" and he said,\n\"Yes.\" \"And all the servants, and camels, and horses?\" \"Yes.\" \"Are you\nwell?\" \"Yes.\" \"Have you had plenty of food?\" \"Yes.\" \"What a great\ndonkey your Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 is!\" And then she began to cry very much, and\npearls fell from her eyes as she cried. Then she began to laugh very\nmuch, and great big rubies fell from her beak as she laughed. The next\nmorning the doorkeeper got up and felt about, and said, \"What is all\nthis?\" meaning the pearls and the rubies, for he did not know what\nthey were. \"I will keep them.\" So he picked them all up and put them\ninto a corner of his house. Every night the bird came and asked after\nthe Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 and the children and the servants, and left a great many\npearls and rubies behind her. At last the doorkeeper had a whole heap\nof pearls and rubies.\n\nOne day a Fak\u00edr came and begged, and as the doorkeeper had no pice, or\nflour, or rice to give, he gave him a handful of pearls and rubies.\n\"Well,\" said the Fak\u00edr to himself, \"I am sure these are pearls and\nrubies.\" So he tied them up in his cloth. Then he went to the R\u00e1j\u00e1 to\nbeg, and the R\u00e1j\u00e1 gave him a handful of rice. \"What!\" said the Fak\u00edr,\n\"the great Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 only gives me a handful of rice when his\ndoorkeeper gives me pearls and rubies!\" and he turned to walk away.\nBut the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 stopped him. \"What did you say?\" said he, \"that my\ndoorkeeper gave you pearls and rubies?\" \"Yes,\" said the Fak\u00edr, \"your\ndoorkeeper gave me pearls and rubies.\" So the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 went to the\ndoorkeeper's house, and when he saw all the pearls and rubies that\nwere there, he thought the man had stolen them from his treasury. The\nMah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 had not as many pearls and rubies as his doorkeeper had. Then\nturning to the doorkeeper he asked him to tell him truly where and how\nhe had got them. \"Yes, I will,\" said the doorkeeper. \"Every night a\nbeautiful bird comes and asks after you, after your children, after\nall your elephants, horses, and servants; and then it cries, and when\nit cries pearls drop from its eyes; and then it laughs, and rubies\nfall from its beak. If you come to-night I dare say you will see it.\"\n\"All right,\" said the Pomegranate R\u00e1j\u00e1.\n\nSo that night the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 pulled his bed out under the tree on which\nthe bird always perched. At night the bird came and called out,\n\"Doorkeeper! doorkeeper!\" and the doorkeeper answered, \"Yes, lord.\"\nAnd the bird said, \"Is your Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 well?\" \"Yes.\" \"Are the children\nwell?\" \"Yes.\" \"And all his servants, horses, and camels and\nelephants--are they well?\" \"Yes.\" \"Are you well?\" \"Yes.\" \"Have you had\nplenty of food?\" \"Yes.\" \"What a fool your Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 is!\" And then she\ncried, and the pearls came tumbling down on the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1's eyes, and\nthe Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 opened one eye and saw what a beautiful bird it was. And\nthen it laughed, and rubies fell from its beak on to the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1.\n\nNext morning the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 said he would give any one who would catch\nthe bird as much money as he wanted. So he called a fisherman, and\nasked him to bring his net and catch the bird when it came that night.\nThe fisherman said he would for one thousand rupees. That night the\nfisherman, the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1, and the doorkeeper, all waited under the\ntree. Soon the bird came, and asked after the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1, after his\nchildren, and all his servants and elephants, and camels and horses,\nand then after the doorkeeper, and then it called the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 a fool.\nThen it cried, and then it laughed, and just as it laughed the\nfisherman threw the net over the bird and caught it. Then they shut it\nup in an iron cage, and the next morning the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 took it out and\nstroked it, and said, \"What a sweet little bird! what a lovely little\nbird!\" And the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 felt something like a pin in its head, and he\ngave a pull, and out came the pin, and then his own dear wife, the\nPomegranate-flower R\u00e1n\u00ed, stood before him. The R\u00e1j\u00e1 was exceedingly\nglad, and so were his two children. And there were great rejoicings,\nand they lived happily ever after.\n\n Told by Dunkn\u00ed at Simla, 26th July, 1876.\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nIII.\n\nTHE CAT AND THE DOG.\n\n\n_Introduction._\n\nNow all cats are aunts to the tigers, and the cat in this story was\nthe aunt of the tiger in this story. She was his mother's sister. When\nthe tiger's mother was dying, she called the cat to her, and taking\nher paw she said, \"When I am dead you must take care of my child.\" The\ncat answered, \"Very well,\" and then the tiger's mother died. The tiger\nsaid to the cat, \"Aunt, I am very hungry. Go and fetch some fire. When\nI go to ask men for fire they are afraid of me, and run away from me,\nand won't give me any. But you are such a little creature that men are\nnot afraid of you, and so they will give you fire, and then you must\nbring it to me.\" So the cat said, \"Very good,\" and off she started,\nand went into a house where some men were eating their dinner: they\nhad thrown away the bones, and the cat began to eat them. This house\nwas very near the place where the tiger lived, and on peeping round\nthe corner he saw his aunt eating the bones. \"Oh,\" said he, \"I sent my\naunt to fetch fire that I might cook my dinner as I am very hungry,\nand there she sits eating the bones, and never thinks of me.\" So the\ntiger called out, \"Aunt, I sent you to fetch fire, and there you sit\neating bones and leave me hungry! If ever you come near me again, I\nwill kill you at once.\" So the cat ran away screaming, \"I will never\ngo near the tiger again, for he will kill me!\" This is why all cats\nare so afraid of tigers, or of anything like a tiger. And this is why,\nwhen the cat in the story saw the tiger, her nephew, fighting with the\nman, she ran away as hard as she could.\n\n\n_The Story._\n\nThere were once a dog and a cat. It was a very rainy day, and some men\nwere eating their dinner inside their house. The cat sat inside too,\neating her dinner, and the dog sat on the door-step. The cat called\nout to the dog, \"I am a high-caste person, and you are a very\nlow-caste person.\" \"Oh,\" said the dog, \"not at all. I am the\nhigh-caste person and you are of very low caste. You eat all the men's\ndinner up, and snatch the food from their hands just as they are\nputting it into their mouths. And you scratch them, and they beat you;\nwhile I sit away from them, and so they don't beat me. And if they\n_give_ me any dinner I'll eat it; but if they don't, I won't.\" \"Oh,\"\nsays the cat, \"not a bit of it. I eat nice clean food; but you eat\nnasty, dirty food, which the men have thrown away.\" \"No,\" said the\ndog, \"I am high caste and you are very low caste, for if I gave you a\nslap you would tumble down directly.\" \"No, no!\" said the cat. And they\nwent on disputing and began to fight, till the dog said, \"Very well,\nlet us go to the wise jackal and ask him which of us is the better.\"\n\"Good,\" said the cat. So they went to the jackal and asked him. Said\nthe cat, \"I am of the higher caste, and the dog is of the lower\ncaste.\" \"No,\" said the jackal, \"the dog is of the higher caste.\" The\ncat said, \"No,\" and the jackal said, \"Yes,\" and they began to fight.\nThen the jackal and the dog proposed to go and ask a great big beast\nwho lived in the jungle and was like a tiger. But the cat said, \"I\ncannot go near a tiger or anything like one.\" So then they said, \"When\nwe come near the beast, you can remain behind, and we will go on and\nspeak to him.\" So they ran into the jungle, where there was a tiger\nwho had been lying on the ground with a great thorn sticking in his\nfoot. When his aunt, the cat, saw him, she scampered off, for she was\ndreadfully frightened.\n\nThe thorn had given the tiger great pain; for a long while he could\nget no one to take it out, so had lain there for days. At last he had\nseen a man passing by, to whom he called and said, \"Take out this\nthorn, and I promise I won't eat you.\" But the man refused through\nfear, saying, \"No, I won't, for you will eat me.\" Three times the\ntiger had promised not to eat him; so at last the man took out the\nthorn. Then the tiger sprang up and said, \"Now I will eat you, for I\nam very hungry.\" \"Oh, no, no!\" said the man. \"What a liar you are! You\npromised not to eat me if I would take the thorn out of your foot, and\nnow that I have done so you say you will eat me.\" And they began to\nfight, and the man said, \"If you won't eat me, I will bring you a cow\nand a goat.\" But the tiger refused, saying, \"No, I won't eat them; I\nwill eat you.\"\n\nAt this moment the jackal and the dog came up. And the jackal asked,\n\"What is the matter? why are you fighting?\" So then the man told him\nwhy they were fighting; and the jackal said to the tiger, \"I will tell\nyou a good way of eating the man. Go and fetch a big bag.\" So the\ntiger went and fetched the bag, and brought it to the jackal. Then the\njackal said, \"Get inside the bag, and leave its mouth open and I'll\nthrow the man in to you.\" So the tiger got inside the bag, and the\njackal, the dog and the man quickly tied it up as tight as they could.\nThen they began to beat the tiger with all their might until at last\nthey killed him. Then the man went home, and the jackal went home, and\nthe dog went home.\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nIV.\n\nTHE CAT WHICH COULD NOT BE KILLED.\n\n\nThere were once a dog and a cat, who were always quarrelling. The dog\nused to beat the cat, but he never could hurt her. She would only\ndance about and cry, \"You never hurt me, you never hurt me! I _had_ a\npain in my shoulder, but now it is all gone away.\" So the dog went to\na _main\u00e1_[1] and said, \"What shall I do to hurt this cat? I beat her\nand I bite her, and yet I can't hurt her. I am such a big dog and she\nis rather a big cat, yet if I beat her I don't hurt her, but if she\nbeats me she hurts me so much.\" The _main\u00e1_ said, \"Bite her mouth\nvery, very hard, and then you'll hurt her.\" \"Oh, no,\" said the cat,\nwho had just come up, laughing; \"you won't hurt me at all.\" The dog\nbit her mouth as hard as he could. \"Oh, you don't hurt me,\" said the\ncat, dancing about. So the dog went again to the _main\u00e1_ and said,\n\"What shall I do?\" \"Bite her ears,\" said the _main\u00e1_. So the dog bit\nthe cat's ears, but she danced about and said, \"Oh, you did not hurt\nme; now I can put earrings in my ears.\" So she put in earrings.\n\nThe dog went to the elephant. \"Can you kill this cat? she worries me\nso every day.\" \"Oh, yes,\" said the elephant, \"of course I can kill\nher. She is so little and I am so big.\" Then the elephant came and\ntook her up with his trunk, and threw her a long way. Up she jumped at\nonce and danced about, saying, \"You did not hurt me one bit. I _had_\na pain, but now I am quite well.\" Then the elephant got cross and\nsaid, \"I'll teach you to dance in another way than that,\" and he took\nthe cat and laid her on the ground and put his great foot on her. But\nshe was not hurt at all. She danced about and said, \"You did not hurt\nme one bit, not one bit,\" and she dug her claws into the elephant's\ntrunk. The elephant ran away screaming, and he told the dog, \"You had\nbetter beware of that cat. She belongs to the tiger tribe.\" The dog\nfelt very angry with the cat. \"What shall I do,\" said he, \"to kill\nthis cat?\" And he bit her nose so hard that it bled. But she laughed\nat him. \"Now I can put a ring in my nose,\" said she. He got furious.\n\"I'll bite her tail in half,\" said he. So he bit her tail in half, and\nyet he did not hurt her.\n\nHe then went to a leopard. \"If you can kill this cat I will give you\nanything you want.\" \"Very well, I'll kill her,\" said the leopard. And\nthey went together to the cat. \"Stop,\" said the cat to the leopard; \"I\nwant to speak to you first. I'll give you something to eat, and then\nI'll tell you what I want to say.\" And then she ran off ever so far,\nand after she had run a mile she stopped and danced, calling out, \"Oh!\nI'll give you nothing to eat; you could not kill me.\" The leopard went\naway very cross, and saying, \"What a clever cat that is.\"\n\nThe dog next went to a man, and said, \"Can you kill this cat, she\nworries me so?\" \"Of course I can,\" said the man; \"I'll stick this\nknife into her stomach.\" And he stuck his knife into the cat's\nstomach, but the cat jumped up, and her stomach closed, and the man\nwent home.\n\nAnd the dog went to a bear. \"Can _you_ kill this cat? I can't.\" \"I'll\nkill her,\" said the bear; so he stuck all his claws into the cat, but\nhe didn't hurt her; and she stuck her claws into the bear's nose so\ndeep that he died immediately.\n\nThen the poor dog felt very unhappy, and went and threw himself into a\nhole, and there he died, while the cat went away to her friends.\n\n Told by Dunkn\u00ed at Simla, July 26th, 1876.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n [1] A kind of starling.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nV.\n\nTHE JACKAL AND THE KITE.\n\n\nThere was once a she-jackal and a she-kite. They lived in the same\ntree; the jackal at the bottom of the tree, and the kite at the top.\nNeither had any children. One day the kite said to the jackal, \"Let us\ngo and worship God, and fast, and then he will give us children.\" So\nthe jackal said, \"Very good.\" That day the kite ate nothing, nor that\nnight; but the jackal at night brought a dead animal, and was sitting\neating it quietly under the tree. By-and-by the kite heard her\ncrunching the bones, instead of fasting. \"What have you got there,\"\nsaid the kite, \"that you are making such a noise?\" \"Nothing,\" said the\njackal; \"it is only my own bones that rattle inside my body whenever I\nmove.\" The kite went to sleep again, and took no more notice of the\njackal. Next morning the kite ate some food in the name of God. That\nnight again the jackal brought a dead animal. The kite called out,\n\"What are you crunching there? Why are you making that noise? I am\nsure you have something to eat.\" The jackal said, \"Oh, no! It is only\nmy own bones rattling in my body.\" So the kite went to sleep again.\n\nSome time after, the kite had seven little boys--real little boys--but\nthe jackal had none, because she had not fasted. A year after that the\nkite went and worshipped God, asking Him to take care of her children.\nOne day--it was their great day--the kite set out seven plates. On one\nshe put cocoa-nuts, on another cucumbers, on a third rice, on a\nfourth plantains, and so on. Then she gave a plate to each of her\nseven sons, and told them to take the plates to their aunt the jackal.\nSo they took the seven plates, and carried them to their aunt, crying\nout, \"Aunty, aunty, look here! Mamma has sent you these things.\" The\njackal took the plates, and cut off the heads of the seven boys, and\ntheir hands, and their feet, and their noses, and their ears, and took\nout their eyes. Then she laid their heads in one plate, and their eyes\nin another, and their noses in a third, and their ears in a fourth,\nand their hands in a fifth, and their feet in a sixth, and their\ntrunks in the seventh, and then she covered all the plates over. Then\nshe took the plates to the kite, and called out, \"Here! I have brought\nyou something in return. You sent me a present, and I bring you a\npresent.\" Now the poor kite thought the jackal had killed all her\nseven children, so she cried out, \"Oh, it's too dark now to see what\nyou have brought. Put the plates down in my tree.\" The jackal put the\nplates down and went home. Then God made the boys alive again, and\nthey came running to their mother, quite well. And instead of the\nheads and eyes, and noses and ears, and hands and feet, and trunks,\nthere were again on the plates cocoa-nuts and cucumbers, and plantains\nand rice, and so on.\n\nNow the jackal got hold of the boys again. And this time she killed\nthem, and cooked them and ate them; and again God brought them to\nlife. Well, the jackal was very much astonished to see the boys alive,\nand she got angry, and said to the kite, \"I will take your seven sons\nand throw them into the water, and they will be drowned.\" \"Very well,\"\nsaid the kite, \"take them. I don't mind. God will take care of them.\"\nThe jackal took them and threw them into the water, and left them to\ndie, while the kite looked on without crying. And again God made them\nalive, and the jackal was so surprised. \"Why,\" said she, \"I put these\nchildren into the water, and left them to drown. And here they are\nalive!\" Then God got very angry with the jackal, and said to her, \"Go\nout of this village. And wherever you go, men will try to shoot you,\nand you shall always be afraid of them.\" So the jackal had to go away;\nand the kite and her children lived very happily ever afterwards.\n\n Told by Dunkn\u00ed.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nVI.\n\nTHE VORACIOUS FROG.\n\n\nThere were a rat and a frog. And the rat said to the frog, \"Go and get\nme some sticks, while I go and get some flour and milk.\" So the frog\nwent out far into the jungle and brought home plenty of sticks, and\nthe rat went out and brought home flour and milk for their dinner.\nThen she cooked the dinner, and when it was cooked she said to the\nfrog, \"Now, you sit here while I go to bathe, and take care of the\nfood so that no one may come and eat it up.\" Then the rat went to take\nher bath, and as soon as she had gone the frog made haste and ate up\nthe dinner quickly, and went away.\n\nWhen the rat came back she found no dinner, and she could not find the\nfrog. So she went out to look for him, calling to him as loudly as she\ncould, and she saw him in the distance, and overtook him. \"Why have\nyou eaten my dinner? Why did you go away?\" said the rat. Said the\nfrog, \"Oh, dear! it was not I that ate your dinner, but a huge dog\nthat came; and I was only a tiny, tiny thing, and he was a great big\ndog, and so he frightened me, and I ran away.\" \"Very well,\" said the\nrat; \"go and fetch me more sticks while I go for flour and milk.\" So\nthe frog went out far into the jungle and brought back plenty of\nsticks. And the rat went to fetch flour and milk. Then she lit the\nfire and cooked the dinner, and told the frog to take care of the\ndinner while she went to bathe. As soon as she had gone, the frog ate\nup all the dinner, and went away and hid himself. When the rat came\nback she saw no frog, no dinner. She went away into the jungle and\ncalled to him, and the frog answered from behind a tree, \"Here I am,\nhere I am.\" The rat went to him and said, \"Why did you eat my dinner?\"\n\"I didn't,\" said the frog. \"It was a great big dog ate the dinner, and\nhe wanted to eat me too, and so I ran away.\" The rat said, \"Very well.\nGo and fetch me some more sticks, and I will go for flour and milk.\"\nThen she cooked the dinner again and went to bathe. The frog ate up\nall the dinner, and went away and hid himself. When the rat returned\nshe saw no dinner, no frog. So she went far into the jungle, found the\nfrog, and told him that it was he that had eaten the dinner. And the\nfrog said, \"No,\" and the rat said, \"Yes.\" And the frog said, \"If you\nsay that again, I will eat you up.\" \"All right,\" says the rat, \"eat me\nup.\" So he ate her up and sat behind a tree, and the baker came past.\nThe frog called out, \"Baker, come here! come here! Give me some\nbread.\" The baker looked about everywhere, could not see anybody,\ncould not think who was calling him. At last he saw the frog sitting\nbehind a tree. \"Give me some bread,\" says the frog. The man said, \"No,\nI won't give you any bread. I am a great big man, and you are only a\nlittle frog, and you have no money.\" \"Yes, I have money. I will give\nyou some pice, and you will give me some bread.\" But the man said,\n\"No, I won't.\" \"Well,\" said the frog, \"if you won't give me bread, I\nwill eat you up first, and then I will eat up your bread.\" So he ate\nup the man, and then ate up his bread. Presently a man with oranges\nand lemons passed by. The frog called to him, \"Come here! come here!\"\nThe man was very much afraid. He didn't know who had called him. Then\nhe saw the frog, and the frog said, \"Give me some lemons.\" The man\nwouldn't, and said, \"No.\" \"Very well,\" says the frog, \"if you won't,\nI'll eat you up.\" So he ate up the man with his lemons and oranges.\nPresently a horse and his groom went by. The frog says, \"Please give\nme a ride, and I will give you some money.\" \"No,\" said the horse, \"I\nwon't let you ride on me. You are like a monkey,--very little--I won't\nlet you ride on my back.\" The frog said, \"If you won't, I'll eat you\nup.\" Then the frog ate him up, and his groom too. Then a barber passed\nby. \"Come and shave me,\" says the frog. \"Good,\" says the barber, \"I'll\ncome and shave you.\" So he shaved him, and he thought the frog looked\n_very_ fat, and so as he was shaving him he suddenly made a cut in his\nstomach. Out jumped the rat with her flour and milk--the baker with\nhis bread--the lemon-seller with his oranges and lemons--the horse and\nhis groom. And the barber ran away home. And the frog died.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nVII.\n\nTHE STORY OF FOOLISH SACH\u00daL\u00cd.\n\n\nThere once lived a poor old widow woman named Hungn\u00ed, who had a little\nidiot son called Sach\u00fal\u00ed. She used to beg every day. One day when the\nson had grown up, he said to his mother. \"What makes women laugh?\" \"If\nyou throw a tiny stone at them,\" answered she, \"they will laugh.\" So\none day Sach\u00fal\u00ed went and sat by a well, and three women came to it to\nfill their water-jars. \"Now,\" said Sach\u00fal\u00ed \"I will make one of these\nwomen laugh.\" Two of the women filled their water-jars and went away\nhome, and he threw no stones at them; but as the last, who also had on\nthe most jewels, passed him, he threw a great big stone at her, and\nshe fell down dead, with her mouth set as if she were smiling. \"Oh,\nlook! look! how she is laughing!\" said Sach\u00fal\u00ed, and he ran off to call\nhis mother.\n\n\"Come, come, mother,\" said he, \"and see how I have made this woman\nlaugh.\"\n\nHis mother came, and when she saw the woman lying dead, she was much\nfrightened, for the dead woman belonged to a great and very rich\nfamily, and she wore jewels worth a thousand rupees. Hungn\u00ed took off\nall her jewels, and threw her body into the well.\n\nAfter some days the dead woman's father and mother and all her people\nsent round a crier with a drum to try and find her. \"Whoever brings\nback a young woman who wears a great many gold necklaces and bracelets\nand rings shall get a great deal of money,\" cried the crier. Sach\u00fal\u00ed\nheard him. \"I know where she is,\" said he. \"My mother took off all her\njewels, and threw her into the well.\"\n\nThe crier said, \"Can you go down into the well and bring her up?\"\n\n\"If you will tie a rope round my waist and let me down the well, I\nshall be able to bring her up.\"\n\nSo they set off towards the well, which was near Hungn\u00ed's house; and\nwhen she saw them coming, she guessed what they came for, and she ran\nout and killed a sheep, threw it into the well, and took out the dead\nwoman and hid her.\n\nThe crier got some men to come with him, and they let Sach\u00fal\u00ed down the\nwell. \"Has she got eyes?\" said Sach\u00fal\u00ed. \"Of course, every one has\neyes,\" answered the men. \"Has she a nose?\" asked Sach\u00fal\u00ed. \"Yes, she\nhas a nose,\" said the men. \"Has she got a mouth?\" asked Sach\u00fal\u00ed.\n\"Yes,\" said the men. \"Has she a long face?\"\n\n\"What does he mean?\" said the men, who were getting cross. \"No one has\na long face; perhaps she has, though. Yes, she has a long face,\" cried\nthe men.\n\n\"Has she a tail?\"\n\n\"A tail! Why no one has a tail. Perhaps, though, she has long hair. No\ndoubt that is what he calls a tail. Yes, she has a tail.\"\n\n\"Has she ears?\"\n\n\"Of course, every one has ears.\"\n\n\"Has she four feet?\"\n\n\"Four feet!\" said the men. \"Why, no one has four feet. Perhaps you\ncall her hands feet. Yes, she has four feet. Bring her up quickly.\"\n\nThen Sach\u00fal\u00ed brought up the sheep.\n\nThe men were very angry when they saw the sheep, and they beat\nSach\u00fal\u00ed, and called him a very stupid fellow and a great liar, and\nthey went away feeling very cross.\n\nSach\u00fal\u00ed went home to his mother, who, as soon as she saw him coming,\nran out and put the woman's body back in the well, and when he got\nhome she beat him. \"Mother,\" said he, \"give me some bread, and I will\ngo away and die.\" His mother cooked him some bread, and he went away.\n\nHe walked on, and on, and on, a long way.\n\nNow, some R\u00e1j\u00e1's ten camels had been travelling along the road on\nwhich Sach\u00fal\u00ed went, each carrying sacks of gold mohurs and rupees, and\none of these camels broke loose from the string and strayed away, and\nthe camel-drivers could not find it again. But Sach\u00fal\u00ed met it, and\ncaught it and took it home.\n\n\"See, mother! see what a quantity of money I have brought you!\" cried\nSach\u00fal\u00ed. Hungn\u00ed rushed out, and was delighted to see so much money.\nShe took off the sacks at once and sent the camel away. Then she hid\nthe rupees and the gold with the jewels she had taken from the dead\nwoman. And, as she was a cunning woman, she went and bought a great\nmany comfits and scattered them all about her house, when Sach\u00fal\u00ed was\nout of the way. \"Oh, look! look!\" cried Sach\u00fal\u00ed, \"at all these\ncomfits.\" \"God has rained them from heaven,\" said his mother. Sach\u00fal\u00ed\nbegan to pick them up and eat them, and he told all the people in the\nvillage how God had rained down comfits from heaven on his mother's\nhouse. \"What nonsense!\" cried they. \"Yes, he has,\" said Sach\u00fal\u00ed, \"and\nI have been eating them.\" \"No comfits have fallen on our houses,\" said\nthey. \"Yes, yes,\" cried he, \"the day my mother got all those rupees,\nGod rained comfits on our house.\" \"What lies!\" cried the people; \"as\nif it ever rained comfits. Why did not the comfits rain down on our\nhouses? Why did they fall only on your house? And what's all this\nabout rupees?\" And then they came to see if there were any rupees or\ncomfits in Hungn\u00ed's house, and they found none at all, for Hungn\u00ed had\nhidden the rupees and thrown away the comfits. \"There,\" said they to\nSach\u00fal\u00ed, \"where are your rupees? where are your comfits? What a liar\nyou are! as if it ever rained comfits. How can you tell such stories?\"\nAnd they beat him. \"But it did rain comfits,\" said Sach\u00fal\u00ed, \"for I ate\nthem. It rained comfits the day my mother got the rupees.\"\n\nNow the R\u00e1j\u00e1 who had lost his camel sent round the crier with his drum\nto find his camel and his money-bags. \"Whoever has found a camel\ncarrying money-bags and brings it and the money back to the R\u00e1j\u00e1, will\nget a great many rupees,\" cried the crier. \"Oh!\" says Sach\u00fal\u00ed, \"I know\nwhere the money is. One day I went out and I found a stray camel, and\nhe had sacks of rupees on his back, and I took him home to my mother,\nand she took the sacks off his back and sent the camel away.\" So the\ncrier went to find the rupees, and the people in the bazar went with\nhim. But Hungn\u00ed had hidden the rupees so carefully that, though they\nhunted all over her house, they could find none, and they beat\nSach\u00fal\u00ed, and told him he was a liar. \"I am not telling lies,\" said\nSach\u00fal\u00ed. \"My mother took the rupees the day it rained comfits on our\nhouse.\" So they beat him again, and they went away. Then Hungn\u00ed beat\nSach\u00fal\u00ed, and said, \"What a bad boy you are! trying to get me beaten\nand put into prison, telling every one about the rupees. Go away; I\ndon't want you any more, such a bad boy as you are! go away and die.\"\nHe said, \"Very well, mother; give me some bread, and I'll go.\"\n\nSach\u00fal\u00ed set off and took an axe with him. \"How shall I kill myself?\"\nsaid he. So he climbed up a tree and sat out on a long branch, and\nbegan cutting off the branch between himself and the tree on which he\nwas sitting. \"What are you doing up there?\" said a man who came by.\n\"You'll die if you cut that branch off.\" \"What do you say?\" cries\nSach\u00fal\u00ed, jumping down on the man, and seizing his hand. \"When shall I\ndie?\" \"How can I tell? Let me go.\" \"I won't let you go till you tell\nme when I shall die.\" And at last the man said, \"When you find a\nscarlet thread on your jacket, then you will die.\"\n\nSach\u00fal\u00ed went off to the bazar, and sat down by some tailors, and one\nof the tailors, in throwing away their shreds of cloth, threw a\nscarlet thread on Sach\u00fal\u00ed's coat. \"Oh,\" said Sach\u00fal\u00ed, when he saw the\nthread, \"now I shall die!\" \"How do you know that?\" said the tailors.\n\"A man told me that when I found a scarlet thread on my jacket, I\nshould die,\" said Sach\u00fal\u00ed; and the tailors all laughed at him and made\nfun of him, but he went off into the jungle and dug his grave with his\naxe, and lay down in it. In the night a sepoy came by with a large jar\nof ghee on his head. \"How heavy this jar is,\" said the sepoy. \"Is\nthere no cooly that will come and carry my ghee home for me? I would\ngive him four pice for his trouble.\" Up jumped Sach\u00fal\u00ed out of his\ngrave. \"I'll carry it for you,\" said he. \"Who are you?\" said the\nsepoy, much frightened. \"Oh, I am a man who is dead,\" said Sach\u00fal\u00ed,\n\"and I am tired of lying here. I can't lie here any more.\" \"Well,\"\nsaid the sepoy, very much frightened, \"you may carry my ghee.\" So\nSach\u00fal\u00ed put the jar on his head, and he went on, with the sepoy\nfollowing. \"Now,\" said Sach\u00fal\u00ed, \"with these four pice I will buy a\nhen, and I will sell the hen and her eggs, and with the money I get\nfor them I will buy a goat; and then I will sell the goat and her milk\nand her hide and buy a cow, and I will sell her milk; and then I will\nmarry a wife, and then I shall have some children, and they will say\nto me, 'Father, will you have some rice?' and I will say, 'No, I won't\nhave any rice.'\" And as he said, \"No, I won't have any rice,\" he shook\nhis head, and down came the jar of ghee, and the jar was smashed, and\nthe ghee spilled. \"Oh, dear! what have you done?\" cried the sepoy.\n\"Why did you shake your head?\" \"Because my children asked me to have\nsome rice, and I did not want any, so I shook my head,\" said Sach\u00fal\u00ed.\n\"Oh,\" said the sepoy, \"he is an utter idiot.\" And the sepoy went home,\nand Sach\u00fal\u00ed went back to his mother. \"Why have you come back?\" said\nshe. \"I have been dead twelve years,\" said Sach\u00fal\u00ed. \"What lies you\ntell!\" said she. \"You have only been away a few days. Be off! I don't\nwant any liars here.\"\n\nSach\u00fal\u00ed asked her to give him two flour-cakes, which she did, and he\nwent off to the jungle, and it was night. Five fairies lived in this\njungle, and as Sach\u00fal\u00ed went along, he broke his flour-cakes into five\npieces, and said, \"Now I'll eat one, then the second, then the third,\nthen the fourth, and then the fifth.\" And the fairies heard him and\nwere afraid, and said to each other, \"What shall we do? Here is this\nman, and he is going to eat us all up. What shall we do to save\nourselves? We will give him something.\" So they went out all five, and\nsaid to Sach\u00fal\u00ed, \"If only you won't eat us, we will give you a\npresent.\" Now Sach\u00fal\u00ed did not know there were fairies in this jungle.\n\"What will you give me?\" said Sach\u00fal\u00ed. \"We will give you a\ncooking-pot. When you want anything to eat, all you have to do is to\nask the pot for it, and you will get it.\" Sach\u00fal\u00ed took the pot and\nwent off to the bazar. He stopped at a cook-shop, and asked for some\npilau. \"Pilau? There's no pilau here,\" said the shopman. \"Well,\" said\nSach\u00fal\u00ed, \"I have a cooking-pot here, and I have only to ask it for any\ndish I want, and I get it at once.\" \"What nonsense!\" said the man.\n\"Just see,\" said Sach\u00fal\u00ed; and he said to the cooking-pot, \"I want some\npilau,\" and immediately the pot was full of pilau, and all the people\nin the shop set to work to help him to eat it up, it was so good.\n\"Oh,\" thought the cook, \"I must have that pot,\" so he gave Sach\u00fal\u00ed a\nsleepy drink. Then Sach\u00fal\u00ed went to sleep, and while he slept the cook\nstole the fairy cooking-pot, and put a common cooking-pot in its\nplace. Sach\u00fal\u00ed went home with the cook's pot, and said, \"Mother, I\nhave brought home a cooking-pot. If you ask it for any food you want,\nyou will get it.\" \"Nonsense,\" said Hungn\u00ed; \"what lies you are\ntelling!\" \"It is quite true, mother; only see,\" and he asked the pot\nfor different dishes, but none came. Hungn\u00ed was furious. \"Go away,\"\nshe said. \"Why do you come back to me? I want no liars here.\" \"Give me\nfive flour-cakes and I will go,\" said her son. So she baked the bread\nfor him, and he set off for the jungle where he had met the five\nfairies, and as he went along he said, \"I will eat one, and I will eat\ntwo, and I will eat three, and I will eat four, and I will eat five.\"\nThe five fairies heard him, and were terrified. \"Here is this bad man\nagain,\" said they, \"and he will eat us all five. Oh, what shall we do?\nLet us give him a present.\" So they went to Sach\u00fal\u00ed, and said, \"Here\nis a box for you. Whenever you want any clothes you have only to tell\nthis box, and it will give them to you; take it, and don't eat us.\" So\nhe took the box and went to the bazar, and he stopped at the cook-shop\nagain, and asked the cook for a red silk dress, and a pair of long\nblack silk trousers, and a blue silk turban, and a pair of red shoes,\nand the cook laughed and asked how he should have such beautiful\nthings. \"Well,\" said Sach\u00fal\u00ed, \"here is a box; when I ask it for the\ndress and trousers, and turban and shoes, I shall get them.\" So the\ncook laughed at him. \"Just see,\" said Sach\u00fal\u00ed, and he said, \"Box, give\nme a red silk dress and a pair of long black silk trousers, and a blue\nsilk turban, and red shoes,\" and there they were at once. And the cook\nwas delighted, and said to himself, \"I will have that box,\" and he\ngave Sach\u00fal\u00ed a good dinner and a sleepy drink, and Sach\u00fal\u00ed fell fast\nasleep. While he slept the cook came and stole the fairy box, and put\na common box in its place. In the morning Sach\u00fal\u00ed went home to his\nmother and said, \"Mother, I've brought you a box. You have only to ask\nit for any clothes you may want, and you will get them.\" \"Nonsense,\"\nsaid his mother, \"don't tell me such lies.\" \"Only see, mother; I am\ntelling you truth,\" said he. He asked the box for coats and all sorts\nof things--no; he got nothing. His mother was very angry, and said,\n\"You liar! you naughty boy! Go away and don't come back any more.\" And\nshe broke the box to pieces, and threw the bits away. \"Well, mother,\nbake me some flour-cakes.\" So she baked him the cakes and gave them to\nhim, and sent him away. He went off to the fairies' jungle, and as he\nwent he said, \"Now I'll eat one, then two, then three, then four, then\nfive.\" The five fairies were very frightened. \"Here is this man come\nback to eat us all five. Let us give him a present.\" So they went to\nhim and gave him a rope and stick, and said, \"Only say to this rope,\n'Bind that man,' and he will be tied up at once; and to this stick,\n'Beat that man,' and the stick will beat him.\" Sach\u00fal\u00ed was very glad\nto get these things, for he guessed what had happened to his\ncooking-pot and box. So he went to the bazar, and at the cook-shop he\nsaid, \"Rope, bind all these men that are here!\" and the cook and every\none in the shop were tied up instantly. Then Sach\u00fal\u00ed said, \"Stick,\nbeat these men!\" and the stick began to beat them. \"Oh, stop, stop\nbeating us, and untie, and I'll give you your pot and your box!\" cried\nthe cook. \"No, I won't stop beating you, and I won't untie you till I\nhave my pot and my box.\" And the cook gave them both to him, and he\nuntied the rope. Then Sach\u00fal\u00ed went home, and when his mother saw him,\nshe was very angry, but he showed her the box and the cooking-pot, and\nshe saw he had told her the truth. So she sent for the doctor, and he\ndeclared Sach\u00fal\u00ed was wise and not silly, and he and Hungn\u00ed found a\nwife for Sach\u00fal\u00ed, and made a grand wedding for him, and they lived\nhappily ever after.\n\n Told by Dunkn\u00ed.\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nVIII.\n\nBARBER H\u00cdM AND THE TIGERS.\n\n\nOnce there lived a barber called H\u00edm, who was very poor indeed. He had\na wife and twelve children, five boys and seven girls: now and then he\ngot a few pice. One day he went away from his home feeling very cross,\nand left his wife and children to get on as best they could. \"What can\nI do?\" said he. \"I have not enough money to buy food for my family,\nand they are crying for it.\" And so he walked on till he came to a\njungle. It was night when he got there. This jungle was called the\n\"tigers' jungle,\" because only tigers lived in it; no birds, no\ninsects, no other animals, and there were four hundred tigers in it\naltogether. As soon as Barber H\u00edm reached the jungle he saw a great\ntiger walking about. \"What shall I do?\" cried he. \"This tiger is sure\nto eat me.\" And he took his razor and his razor-strap, and began to\nsharpen his razor. Then he went close up to the tiger, still\nsharpening his razor. The tiger was much frightened. \"What shall I\ndo?\" said the tiger; \"this man will certainly gash me.\" \"I have come,\"\nsaid the barber, \"to catch twenty tigers by order of Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 K\u00e1ns.\nYou are one, and I want nineteen more.\" The tiger, greatly alarmed,\nanswered, \"If you won't catch us, I will give you as much gold and as\nmany jewels as you can carry.\" For these tigers used to go out and\ncarry off the men and women from the villages, and some of these\npeople had rupees, and some had jewels, all of which the tigers used\nto collect together. \"Good,\" said H\u00edm, \"then I won't catch you.\" The\ntiger led him to the spot where all the tigers used to eat their\ndinners, and the barber took as much gold and as many jewels as he\ncould carry, and set off home with them.\n\nThen he built a house, and bought his children pretty clothes and good\nfood, and necklaces, and they all lived very happily for some time.\nBut at last he wanted more rupees, so he set off to the tigers'\njungle. There he met the tiger as he did before, and he told him the\nMah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 K\u00e1ns had sent him to catch twenty tigers. The tiger was\nterrified and said, \"If you will only not catch us, I will give you\nmore gold and jewels.\" To this the barber agreed, and the tiger led\nhim to the old spot, and the barber took as many jewels and rupees as\nhe could carry. Then he returned home.\n\nOne day a very poor man, a fak\u00edr, said to him, \"How did you manage to\nbecome so rich? In old days you were so poor you could hardly support\nyour family.\"\n\n\"I will tell you,\" said H\u00edm. And he told him all about his visits to\nthe tigers' jungle. \"But don't you go there for gold to-night,\"\ncontinued the barber. \"Let me go and listen to the tigers talking. If\nyou like, you can come with me. Only you must not be frightened if the\ntigers roar.\"\n\n\"I'll not be frightened,\" said the fak\u00edr.\n\nSo that evening at eight o'clock they went to the tigers' jungle.\nThere the barber and the fak\u00edr climbed into a tall thick tree, and its\nleaves came all about them and sheltered them as if they were in a\nhouse. The tigers used to hold their councils under this tree. Very\nsoon all the tigers in the jungle assembled together under it, and\ntheir R\u00e1j\u00e1--a great, huge beast, with only one eye--came too.\n\"Brothers,\" said the tiger who had given the barber the rupees and\njewels, \"a man has come here twice to catch twenty of us for the\nMah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 K\u00e1ns; now we are only four hundred in number, and if twenty\nof us were taken away we should be only a small number, so I gave him\neach time as many rupees and jewels as he could carry and he went away\nagain. What shall we do if he returns?\" The tigers said they would\nmeet again on the morrow, and then they would settle the matter. Then\nthe tigers went off, and the barber and the fak\u00edr came down from the\ntree. They took a quantity of rupees and jewels and returned to their\nhomes.\n\n\"To-morrow,\" said they, \"we will come again and hear what the tigers\nsay.\"\n\nThe next day the barber went alone to the tigers' jungle, and there he\nmet his tiger again. \"This time,\" said he, \"I am come to cut off the\nears of all the four hundred tigers who live in this jungle; for\nMah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 K\u00e1ns wants them to make into medicine.\"\n\nThe tiger was greatly frightened, much more so than at the other\ntimes. \"Don't cut off our ears; pray don't,\" said he, \"for then we\ncould not hear, and it would hurt so horribly. Go and cut off all the\ndogs' ears instead, and I will give you rupees and jewels as much as\ntwo men can carry.\" \"Good,\" said the barber, and he made two journeys\nwith the rupees and jewels from the jungle to the borders of his\nvillage, and there he got a cooly to help him to carry them to his\nhouse.\n\nAt night he and the fak\u00edr went again to the great tree under which the\ntigers held their councils. Now the tiger who had given the barber so\nmany rupees and jewels had made ready a great quantity of meat, fowls,\nchickens, geese, men the tigers had killed--everything he had been\nable to get hold of--and he made them into a heap under the tree, for\nhe said that after the tigers had settled the matter they would dine.\nSoon the tigers arrived with their R\u00e1j\u00e1, and the barber's tiger said,\n\"Brothers, what are we to do? This man came again to-day to cut off\nall our ears to make medicine for Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 K\u00e1ns. I told him this\nwould be a bad business for us, and that he must go and cut off all\nthe dogs' ears instead; and I gave him as much money and jewels as two\nmen could carry. So he went home. Now what shall we do? We must leave\nthis jungle, and where shall we go?\" The other tigers said, \"We will\nnot leave the jungle. If this man comes again we will eat him up.\" So\nthey dined and went away, saying they would meet again to-morrow.\n\nAfter the tigers had gone, the barber and fak\u00edr came down from the\ntree and went off to their homes, without taking any rupees or jewels\nwith them. They agreed to return the next evening.\n\nNext evening back they came and climbed into the great tree. The\ntigers came too, and the barber's tiger told his story all over again.\nThe tiger R\u00e1j\u00e1 sat up and said, fiercely, \"We will not leave this\njungle. Should the man come again, I will eat him myself.\" When the\nfak\u00edr heard this he was so frightened that he tumbled down out of the\ntree into the midst of the tigers. The barber instantly cried out with\na loud voice, \"Now cut off their ears! cut off their ears!\" and the\ntigers, terrified, ran away as fast as they could. Then the barber\ntook the fak\u00edr home, but the poor man was so much hurt by his fall\nthat he died.\n\nThe barber lived happily ever after, but he took good care never to go\nto the tigers' jungle again.\n\n Told by Dunkn\u00ed.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nIX.\n\nTHE BULBUL AND THE COTTON-TREE.\n\n\nThere was once a bulbul, and one day as he was flying about, he saw a\ntree on which was a little fruit. The bulbul was much pleased and\nsaid, \"I will sit here till this fruit is ripe, and then I will eat\nit.\" So he deserted his nest and his wife, and sat there for twelve\nyears without eating anything, and every day he said, \"To-morrow I\nwill eat this fruit.\" During these twelve years a great many birds\ntried to sit on the tree, and wished to build their nests in it, but\nwhenever they came the bulbul sent them away, saying, \"This fruit is\nnot good. Don't come here.\" One day a cuckoo came and said, \"Why do\nyou send us away? Why should we not come and sit here too? All the\ntrees here are not yours.\" \"Never mind,\" said the bulbul, \"I am going\nto sit here, and when this fruit is ripe, I shall eat it.\" Now the\ncuckoo knew that this tree was the cotton-tree, but the bulbul did\nnot. First comes the bud, which the bulbul thought a fruit, then the\nflower, and the flower becomes a big pod, and the pod bursts and all\nthe cotton flies away. The bulbul was delighted when he saw the\nbeautiful red flower, which he still thought a fruit, and said, \"When\nit is ripe, it will be a delicious fruit.\" The flower became a pod,\nand the pod burst. \"What is all this that is flying about?\" said the\nbulbul. \"The fruit must be ripe now.\" So he looked into the pod, and\nit was empty; all the cotton had fallen out. Then the cuckoo came and\nsaid to the angry bulbul, \"You see if you had allowed us to come and\nsit on the tree, you would have had something good to eat; but as you\nwere selfish, and would not let any one share with you, God is angry\nand has punished you by giving you a hollow fruit.\" Then the cuckoo\ncalled all the other birds, and they came and mocked the bulbul. \"Ah!\nyou see God has punished you for your selfishness,\" they said. The\nbulbul got very angry and all the birds went away. After they had\ngone, the bulbul said to the tree, \"You are a bad tree. You are of use\nto no one. You give food to no one.\" The tree said, \"You are mistaken.\nGod made me what I am. My flower is given to sheep to eat. My cotton\nmakes pillows and mattresses for man.\"\n\nSince that day no bulbul goes near a cotton-tree.\n\n Told by Dunkn\u00ed.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nX.\n\nTHE MONKEY PRINCE.\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a R\u00e1j\u00e1 called Jabh\u00fa R\u00e1j\u00e1, and he had a\ngreat many wives; at least he had seven wives, but he had no children.\nAlthough he had married seven wives, not one of them had given him a\nchild. At this he was greatly vexed and said, \"I have married seven\nwives, and not one of them has given me a child.\" And he got very\nangry with God: he said, \"Why does not God give me any children? I\nwill go into the jungle and die by myself.\" The R\u00e1n\u00eds coaxed him to\nstay, but he wouldn't; he would go out into the jungle.\n\nSo he went out into the jungle very far, and God sent him an old fak\u00edr\nleaning on a stick. The R\u00e1j\u00e1 met him, and the fak\u00edr said, \"Why do you\ncome into the jungle? If you go far into the jungle you will meet\nplenty of tigers, and they will eat you. Tell me what you want.\nWhatever you want I will give you.\" \"No, I won't tell you,\" said the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1. But at last the R\u00e1j\u00e1 told him, \"I have seven wives, and none of\nthem has given me any children, and so here I will die by myself.\"\nThen the fak\u00edr said, \"Take this stick, and a little way off you will\nfind a mango-tree with some mangoes on it. Throw the stick at the\nmangoes with one hand, and catch them as they fall with the other, and\nwhen you have caught them all, take them home and give one to each of\nyour seven wives.\" So the R\u00e1j\u00e1 went and knocked the mangoes off the\ntree and caught them as the fak\u00edr had told him. Then he looked about\nfor the fak\u00edr, but he could not find him, for he had gone away into\nanother part of the jungle. So he went home and gave the seven mangoes\nto his wives. But the fruit was so good that six of the wives ate it\nup, and would not give the youngest wife any. She cried very much, and\nwent into the compound and picked up one of the mango stones which one\nof the six wives had thrown away, and ate it. By and by each of the\nsix wives had a son; but the one who had eaten the stone had a monkey,\nwho was called in consequence Bandars\u00e1b\u00e1s\u00e1, or Prince Monkey. He was\nreally a boy, but no one knew it, for he had a monkey-skin covering\nhim. His six brothers hated him. They went to school every day; and\nthe monkey went under the ground, and was taught by the fairies. His\nmother did not know this; she thought, as he was a monkey, he went to\nthe jungle and swung in the trees. He was the best and the cleverest\nof all the boys.\n\nNow, in a kingdom a three months' journey off by land from Jabh\u00fa\nR\u00e1j\u00e1's country, there lived a king called King Jam\u00e1rs\u00e1. He had a very\nbeautiful daughter whose name was Princess Jah\u00faran, and as her father\nwanted a very strong son-in-law, he had a large heavy iron ball made,\nand he sent letters to all the R\u00e1j\u00e1s and R\u00e1j\u00e1s' sons far and near to\nsay that whoever wished to marry his daughter, the Princess Jah\u00faran,\nmust be able to throw this heavy ball at her and hit her. So many\nR\u00e1j\u00e1s went to try, but none of them could even lift the ball. Now, one\nof these letters had come to Jabh\u00fa R\u00e1j\u00e1, and his six elder sons\ndetermined they would go to King Jam\u00e1rs\u00e1's country, for each of them\nwas sure he could throw the ball, and win the princess.\n\nPrince Monkey laughed softly and said to himself, \"I will go and try\ntoo. I know I shall succeed.\"\n\nOff, therefore, the six brothers set on their long journey, and the\nmonkey followed them; but before he did so, he went into the jungle\nand took off his monkey-skin, and God sent him a beautiful horse and\nbeautiful clothes. Then he followed his brothers and overtook them,\nand gave them betel-leaf and lovely flowers. \"What a beautiful boy!\"\nthey said. \"Who is it owns such a beautiful boy? He must be some\nR\u00e1j\u00e1's son.\" Then he galloped quickly away, took off his grand clothes\nand put them on his horse, and the horse rose into the air. He put on\nhis monkey-skin and followed his brothers.\n\nWhen they reached King Jam\u00e1rs\u00e1's palace they pitched their tents in\nhis compound, which was very big. Every evening the princess used to\nstand in her verandah and let down her long golden hair so that it\nfell all round her, and then the R\u00e1j\u00e1s who wished to marry her had to\ntry to hit her with the great heavy ball that lay on the ground just\nin front of where she stood.\n\nKing Jam\u00e1rs\u00e1's house had more than one storey, and you had to go\nupstairs to get to the Princess Jah\u00faran's rooms which led into the\nverandah in which she used to stand.\n\nWell, Prince Monkey's six elder brothers all got ready to go up to the\npalace and throw the ball. They were quite sure they would throw it\nwithout any trouble. Before they went they told their monkey brother\nto take care of their tents, and to have a good dinner ready for them\nwhen they returned. \"If the dinner is not ready, we will beat you.\"\n\nAs soon as they were gone, Prince Monkey took some gold mohurs he had,\nand he went to a traveller's resting-house, which was a little way\noutside King Jam\u00e1rs\u00e1's compound, and gave them to the man who owned\nit, and bade him give him a grand dinner for his six brothers. Then he\ntook the dinner to the tents, went into the jungle, and took off his\nmonkey-skin. And God sent him a grand horse from heaven, and splendid\nclothes. These he put on, mounted his horse, and rode to King\nJam\u00e1rs\u00e1's compound. There he took no notice of either the king, or\nhis daughter, or of the ball, or of the R\u00e1j\u00e1s who were there to try\nand lift it. He spoke only to his brothers, and gave them lovely\nflowers and betel-leaf. Meanwhile, everybody was looking at him and\ntalking about him. \"Who can he be? Did you ever see any one so lovely?\nWhere does he come from? Just look at his clothes! In our countries we\ncannot get any like them!\" As for the Princess Jah\u00faran she thought to\nherself, \"That R\u00e1j\u00e1 shall be my husband, whether he lifts the ball or\nnot.\" When he had given his brothers the flowers and betel-leaf,\nPrince Monkey rode straight to the jungle, took off his clothes, laid\nthem on his horse (which instantly went up to heaven), put on his\nmonkey-skin, went back to the tents, and lay down to sleep.\n\nWhen his brothers came home they were talking eagerly about the\nunknown beautiful R\u00e1j\u00e1. All the time they were eating their dinner\nthey could speak of nothing else.\n\nWell, every evening for about ten evenings it was just the same story.\nOnly every evening Prince Monkey appeared in a different dress. The\nprincess always thought, \"That is the man I will marry, whether he can\nthrow the ball or not.\" Then about the eleventh evening, after he had\ngiven his brothers the flowers and betel-leaf, he said to all the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1s who were standing there, and to King Jam\u00e1rs\u00e1 and to all the\nservants, \"Now every one of you go and stand far away, for I am going\nto throw the ball.\" \"No, no!\" they all cried, \"we will stand here and\nsee you.\" \"You must go far away. You can look on at a distance,\" said\nthe Monkey Prince; \"the ball might fall back among you and hurt you.\"\nSo they all went off and stood round him at a distance.\n\n\"Now,\" said Prince Monkey to himself, \"I won't hit the princess this\ntime; but I will hit the verandah railing.\" Then he took up the ball\nwith one hand, just as if it were quite light, and threw it on the\nverandah railing, and then he rode off fast to the jungle.\n\nThe next evening it was the same thing over again, only this time he\nthrew the ball into the Princess Jah\u00faran's clothes.\n\nThe next evening the ball fell on one of her feet, and hurt her little\ntoe-nail. Now, Princess Jah\u00faran was very angry that this unknown\nbeautiful prince should have thrown the ball three times, and hit her\ntwice, and hurt her the third time, and yet had never spoken to her\nfather, or let any one know who he was, and had always, on the\ncontrary, ridden away as hard as he could, no one knew where. She was\nvery much in love with him, and was very anxious to find this R\u00e1j\u00e1 who\nhad hit her twice, so she ordered a bow and arrow to be brought to\nher, and said she would shoot the R\u00e1j\u00e1 the next time he hit her. She\nwould not kill him; she would only shoot the arrow at him. Well, the\nnext evening Prince Monkey threw the ball, and it fell on her other\nfoot and hurt her great toe-nail. When he saw she was hurt, he was\nvery sorry in his heart, and said, \"Did I hurt you?\" \"Yes,\" she said,\n\"very much.\" \"Oh, I am so sorry,\" said the prince. \"I would not have\nthrown the ball so hard had I thought it would hurt you.\" Then she\nshot the arrow, and hit him in the leg, and a great deal of blood came\nout of the wound; but he rode hard away to the jungle all the same,\nonly this time he did not take off his fine clothes, but he drew the\nmonkey-skin over them, and his horse went up to heaven, and he went\nback to the tents. Then the princess sent a servant into the town, and\nsaid, whoever or whatever he should hear crying with pain, he should\nbring to her--were it a man, or a jackal, or a dog, or a wild beast.\nSo the servant went round the town. The six brothers had gone to\nsleep, but the poor monkey brother could not sleep, but sat up crying\nfrom pain. He could not help it, do what he would, and the servant, as\nhe went round the town, heard him crying. So he took him and brought\nhim to the princess, and the princess said she would marry him.\n\n\"What!\" cried her father, \"marry that monkey? Never! Who ever heard\nof any one marrying a monkey, a nasty monkey?\" But in spite of all the\nking said, the princess declared marry that monkey she would. \"I like\nthat monkey very, very much,\" she said. \"I will marry him. It is my\npleasure to marry him.\" \"Well,\" said the R\u00e1j\u00e1 at last, \"if it is your\npleasure to marry him, you must marry him; but who ever heard of any\none marrying a nasty monkey?\"\n\nSo they were married at once; and the Monkey Prince wore his\nmonkey-skin for a wedding garment.\n\nThat night when they went to bed, the young prince drew off his skin\nand lay down by Jah\u00faran, and when she saw her beautiful husband she\nwas so glad, so glad. \"Why do you wear a monkey-skin?\" she asked. He\nanswered, \"I wear it as a protection, because my brothers are naughty,\nand would kill me if they knew what I really am.\"\n\nThey lived very happily with King Jam\u00e1rs\u00e1 for six months, and the six\nelder brothers went on living there too, and hating him more and more\nfor having such a beautiful wife.\n\nBut one night Prince Monkey thought of his mother, and he said to his\nwife, \"My mother perhaps is crying for me. Let us go to my father's\nkingdom, and see her.\" Princess Jah\u00faran agreed; so next morning they\nspoke to King Jam\u00e1rs\u00e1, who said they might go.\n\nThe six brothers at once said, \"We will go with you;\" and they also\nsaid, \"Let us get two big boats, one for you and the princess, and one\nfor ourselves, and let us go by water, and not by land.\" Now by water\nit took only six days to get to Jabh\u00fa R\u00e1j\u00e1's kingdom, by land it took\nthree months. The Monkey Prince agreed to all his brothers said.\n\nPrincess Jah\u00faran heard them planning to throw the monkey into the\nwater on the journey, and then to take her home to their father as the\nwife of one of them; so as she was very wise she went to her father\nand begged him to have six large beautiful mattresses, well stuffed\nwith cotton, made for her.\n\n\"What can you want with six mattresses?\" said the king. \"I want my\nbed to be very comfortable on board the boat,\" said his daughter. Her\nfather loved her dearly, so he had her mattresses made, beautiful\nmattresses and well stuffed with cotton. The princess had them all\ncarried to her boat.\n\nWhen everything was ready they went on board the boats with the\nmonkey's six brothers. Now, the princess had warned her husband of his\nbrothers' wicked plans, and she said to him, \"Never go near your\nbrothers; never speak to your brothers; for they want to kill you.\"\nThe first day the six brothers said to the monkey, \"Please bring us a\nlittle salt.\" But the monkey said, \"No; my wife will take you some.\"\n\"No,\" said the brothers, \"your wife cannot bring us any. She is a\nprincess. Do you bring us some.\" So they threw a rope from one boat to\nanother, and the monkey went on the rope, and the brothers untied it,\nand the monkey fell into the water. Then the princess cried out, \"My\nhusband will be drowned! My husband will be drowned!\" And she threw\nout one of the mattresses; the monkey sat on it; it floated back to\nhis boat, and the crew drew him up.\n\nThe next day the six brothers begged Prince Monkey to bring them\nwater, and they threw a plank from their boat to his for him to cross\non. The prince set off with the water, in spite of all his wife's\nentreaties, and his brothers tilted the plank into the water. The\nprince would have been drowned had not the Princess Jah\u00faran thrown him\na mattress. And the same thing happened during the next four days. The\nbrothers wanted something to eat or drink, and their monkey-brother\nbrought it them across a rope or plank, which they cut or dropped into\nthe water, and he would have died but for the mattresses which his\nwife threw to him one by one.\n\nWhen they reached Jabh\u00fa R\u00e1j\u00e1's kingdom, the eldest son went on shore\nup to his father's palace. Each of the R\u00e1j\u00e1's seven wives had a house\nto herself in his compound. He went to his mother's house and said,\n\"Give me your palanquin, mother, for I have brought home a most lovely\nwife, and want to bring her to the palace.\"\n\nAt this news his mother was delighted, and she told it to the other\nR\u00e1n\u00eds, and said, \"My son has brought home such a lovely wife! I am so\nglad! oh, I am so glad!\" The youngest R\u00e1n\u00ed began to cry bitterly. \"My\nson,\" she said, \"is nothing but a monkey; he will never be married; he\nwill never have a wife at all.\"\n\nThen the palanquin was got ready, and the seven R\u00e1n\u00eds and the prince\nwent with it to the boat. The Princess Jah\u00faran came on land with her\nmonkey, and when the R\u00e1n\u00eds saw her, they all cried, \"How lovely she\nis! how beautiful!\" And the eldest R\u00e1n\u00ed was gladder than ever, and the\nyoungest cried still more. The princess got into the palanquin with\nher monkey. \"What are you doing with that horrid monkey?\" said the\neldest prince. \"Put him out of the palanquin directly.\" \"Indeed I will\nnot,\" said the princess. \"He is my husband, and I love him.\" \"What!\"\ncried all the R\u00e1n\u00eds, \"are you married to that monkey?\" \"Yes,\" said the\nprincess. \"Then get out of my palanquin at once,\" said the eldest\nR\u00e1n\u00ed. \"You shall not ride in my palanquin with that nasty monkey.\" The\nyoungest R\u00e1n\u00ed was very glad her son had such a beautiful wife. So the\nprincess got out, and took her monkey in her arms and walked with him\nto the youngest R\u00e1n\u00ed's house, and there they all lived for some time.\nNow the little R\u00e1n\u00ed did not know her son was really a beautiful man,\nfor the princess never told her, as her husband had forbidden her to\ntell any one.\n\nOne evening Jabh\u00fa R\u00e1j\u00e1's servants had a grand nautch in the R\u00e1j\u00e1's\ncompound, and the R\u00e1j\u00e1 and his sons and the neighbouring R\u00e1j\u00e1s all\ncame to see it. Prince Monkey said to his wife, \"I, too, will go and\nsee this nautch.\" So he took off his monkey-skin, folded it up and\nlaid it under her pillow. Then he put on the clothes God had sent him\nfrom heaven the last time he threw the ball, and which he had not\nlaid on his horse's back when he put his monkey-skin on again, and\nwhen he came among all the R\u00e1j\u00e1s and people who were looking on at the\nnautch, they all exclaimed, \"Who is that? Who can it be?\" He was very\nhandsome, and he had beautiful hair all gold. When he had stayed some\ntime, Prince Monkey went quickly back to his wife, and in the morning\nhe put on his monkey-skin again.\n\nNow the little R\u00e1n\u00ed, his mother, though she was very glad her monkey\nson had such a wife, could never understand how it was that her\ndaughter-in-law was so happy with him. \"How could you marry him?\" she\nused to say to her. \"Because it pleased me to marry him,\" the princess\nused to answer. \"How can you be so happy with him?\" said the mother.\n\"I love him,\" said the princess; and the poor R\u00e1n\u00ed used to wonder at\nthis more and more.\n\nWell, one day there was another nautch, and Prince Monkey went to it;\nbut he left his skin under his wife's pillow. As soon as he had gone,\nshe called the little R\u00e1n\u00ed, and said, \"See, you think my husband is a\nmonkey; he is no monkey, but a very handsome man. There is no one like\nhim, he is so beautiful.\" The R\u00e1n\u00ed did not believe her. Then the\nprincess took the skin from under her pillow. \"See,\" she said, \"when\nyour son puts this on, then he is a monkey; when he takes it off he is\na beautiful man. And now, I think I will burn this skin, and then he\nmust always be a man. What do you say?\" \"Are you sure it won't hurt\nhim if you burn his skin?\" said his mother. \"Perhaps he may die if it\nis burnt.\" \"Oh, no, he won't die,\" said the princess. \"Shall I burn\nit?\" \"Burn it,\" said the little R\u00e1n\u00ed. Then the princess threw the skin\non the fire and burnt it quite up.\n\nPrince Monkey was sitting looking on at the nautch when suddenly his\nheart told him his wife had burnt his skin. He jumped up directly and\nwent home, and when he found his heart had told him true, he was so\nangry with his wife, that he would say nothing to her but \"Why did you\nburn my skin?\" and he was in such a rage that he went straight to bed\nand went to sleep.\n\nIn the morning, while he slept, the princess went to the little R\u00e1n\u00ed,\nand said, \"Come and see your beautiful son.\" \"I am ashamed to do so,\"\nsaid the R\u00e1n\u00ed. \"Ashamed to look at your own son? What nonsense! Come\ndirectly,\" said Princess Jah\u00faran. Then the little R\u00e1n\u00ed went with her,\nand when she saw her beautiful son she was indeed glad, and the prince\nopened his eyes and saw her, and then he kissed her, and they were\nvery happy.\n\nThe news spread through the compound, and Jabh\u00fa R\u00e1j\u00e1 and his sons and\neverybody came at once to see if it were true. When they saw the\nbeautiful young prince, with his hair all gold, they could not stand,\nbut fell down. Prince Monkey lifted his father and loved him, and put\nhis arms round him, and said, \"I am your son, your own son; you must\nnot fall down before me.\" \"Why did you wear that monkey-skin?\" asked\nhis father. \"Because,\" he said, \"my mother ate the mango stone instead\nof eating the mango, and so I was born with this skin, and God ordered\nme to wear it till I had found a wife.\" His brothers said, \"Who could\nhave guessed there was such a beautiful man inside that monkey-skin?\nGod's decrees are good!\" And they left off hating their brother,\nPrince Monkey.\n\nThere were great rejoicings and feasts now, and all were very happy.\nThe six elder brothers lived always with their father and Prince\nMonkey, but none of them ever married.\n\n Told by Dunkn\u00ed.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXI.\n\nBRAVE H\u00cdR\u00c1L\u00c1LB\u00c1S\u00c1.\n\n\nOnce there was a R\u00e1j\u00e1 called M\u00e1nikb\u00e1s\u00e1 R\u00e1j\u00e1, or the Ruby King, who had\nseven wives and seven children. One day he told his wives he would go\nout hunting, and he rode on and on, a long, long way from his palace.\nA Rakshas was sitting by the wayside, who, seeing the R\u00e1j\u00e1 coming,\nquickly turned herself into a beautiful R\u00e1n\u00ed, and sat there crying.\nThe R\u00e1j\u00e1 asked her, \"Why do you cry?\" And the Rakshas answered, \"My\nhusband has gone away. He has been away many days, and I think he will\nnever come back again. If some R\u00e1j\u00e1 will take me to his house and\nmarry me, I shall be very glad.\" So the R\u00e1j\u00e1 said, \"Will you come with\nme?\" And the Rakshas answered, \"Very well, I will come.\" And then the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1 took the pretended R\u00e1n\u00ed home with him and married her. He gave\nher a room to live in. Every night at twelve o'clock the Rakshas got\nup and devoured an elephant, or a horse, or some other animal. The\nR\u00e1j\u00e1 said, \"What can become of my elephants and horses? Every day\neither an elephant or a horse disappears. Who can take them away?\" The\nRakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed said to him, \"Your seven R\u00e1n\u00eds are Rakshases, and every\nnight at twelve o'clock they devour a horse, or an elephant, or some\nother creature.\"\n\nSo the R\u00e1j\u00e1 believed her, and had a great hole dug just outside his\nkingdom, into which he put the seven R\u00e1n\u00eds with their children, and\nthen he sent a sepoy to them and bade him take out all the R\u00e1n\u00eds'\neyes, and bring them to him. This the sepoy did. After a time the\npoor R\u00e1n\u00eds grew so hungry that six of them ate their children, but the\nseventh R\u00e1n\u00ed, who was the youngest of them all, declared she would\nnever eat her child though she might die of hunger, \"for,\" she said,\n\"I love him a great deal too much.\" God was very pleased with the\nseventh R\u00e1n\u00ed for this, and so every day he sent her a little food,\nwhich she divided with the other R\u00e1n\u00eds. And every day her little boy\ngrew bigger, and bigger, and bigger, until he had become a strong lad,\nwhen, as he thought it was very dark in the hole, he climbed out of it\nand looked all about. Then he came back to his mothers (for he called\nall the seven R\u00e1n\u00eds \"Mother\" now), who told him he was not to clamber\nup out of the hole any more, for if he did, some one might kill him.\n\"Still, if you will go,\" they added, \"do not go to your father's\nkingdom, but stay near this place.\" The boy said, \"Very well,\" and\nevery day he climbed out of the hole and only went where his seven\nmothers told him he might go, and he used to beg the people about to\ngive him a little rice, and flour and bread, which they did.\n\nOne day he said to his mothers, \"If you let me go now to my father's\nkingdom, I will go.\" \"Well, you may go,\" they said; \"but come back\nagain soon.\" This he promised to do, and he went to his father's\nkingdom. For some time he stood daily at the door of his father's\npalace and then returned to the hole. One day the Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed was\nstanding in the verandah, and she thought, \"I am sure that is the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1's son.\" The servants every day asked the boy, \"Why do you always\nstand at the door of the palace?\" \"I want service with the R\u00e1j\u00e1,\" he\nwould reply. \"If the R\u00e1j\u00e1 has any place he can give me, I will take\nit.\"\n\nThe Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed said to the R\u00e1j\u00e1, \"The boy standing out there wants\nservice. May I take him into mine?\" The R\u00e1j\u00e1 answered, \"Very well,\nsend for him.\" So all the servants ran and fetched the boy. The\nRakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed asked him, \"Are you willing to do anything I tell you?\"\nThe boy said, \"Yes.\" \"Then you shall be my servant,\" she said, and\nfirst she told him he must go to the Rakshas country to fetch some\nrose-water for her. \"I will give you a letter,\" she said, \"so that no\nharm may happen to you.\" The lad answered, \"Very well, only you must\ngive me three shields full of money.\" She gave him the three shields\nfull of money, and he took them and went home to his mothers. Then he\ngot two servants for them, one to take care of them, and one to go to\nthe bazar. His mothers gave him food for the journey, and he left them\nthe remainder of his money, telling them to take great care of it. He\nthen returned to the Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed for his letter. She told the R\u00e1j\u00e1\nshe was feeling ill, and would not be quite well until she got some\nrose-water from the Rakshas country. The R\u00e1j\u00e1 said, \"Then you had\nbetter send this boy for it.\" So she gave him a letter, in which she\nhad written, \"When this boy arrives among you, kill him and eat him\ninstantly,\" and he set out at once.\n\nHe went on and on till he came to a great river in which lived a huge\nwater-snake. When the water-snake saw him it began to weep very much,\nand cried out to the boy, \"If you go to the Rakshas country you will\nbe eaten up.\" The lad, whose name was H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1lb\u00e1s\u00e1, said, \"I cannot\nhelp it; I am the R\u00e1n\u00ed's servant, so I must do what she tells me.\"\n\"Well,\" said the water-snake, \"get on my back, and I will take you\nacross this river.\" So he got on the water-snake's back, and it took\nhim over the river. Then H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1lb\u00e1s\u00e1 went on and on until he came to a\nhouse in which a Rakshas lived. A R\u00e1n\u00ed lived there too that the\nRakshas had carried off from her father and mother when she was a\nlittle girl. She was playing in her father the Sondarb\u00e1s\u00e1 R\u00e1j\u00e1's\ngarden, which was full of delicious fruits, which the Rakshas came to\neat, and when he saw Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed he seized her in his mouth and ran\noff with her. Only she was so beautiful he could never find it in his\nheart to eat her, but brought her up as his own child. Her name was\nSonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed, that is, the Golden R\u00e1n\u00ed, because her teeth and her hair\nwere made of gold. Now the Rakshas who had carried her off, and whom\nshe called Papa, had a great thick stick, and when he laid this stick\nat her feet she could not stir, but when he laid it at her head, she\ncould move again.\n\nWhen the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son came up, Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed was lying on her bed with\nthe thick stick at her feet, and as soon as she saw the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son she\nbegan to cry very much. \"Oh, why have you come here? You will surely\nbe killed,\" she said. The R\u00e1j\u00e1's son answered, \"I cannot help that. I\nam the R\u00e1n\u00ed's servant, so I must do what she tells me.\" \"Of course,\"\nsaid Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed; \"but put this stick at my head, and then I shall be\nable to move.\" The R\u00e1j\u00e1's son laid the stick at her head, and she got\nup and gave him some food, and then asked him if he had a letter.\n\"Yes,\" he answered. \"Let me see it,\" said the Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed. So he gave\nher the letter, and when she had read it she cried, \"Oh, this is a\nvery wicked letter. It will bring you no good; for if the Rakshases\nsee it, they will kill you.\" \"Indeed,\" said H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1lb\u00e1s\u00e1. And the\nSonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed tore up the letter and wrote another in which she said,\n\"Make much of this boy. Send him home quickly, and give him a jug of\nrose-water to bring back with him, and see that he gets no hurt.\" Then\nthe R\u00e1j\u00e1's son set out again for the Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed's mother's house. He\nhad not gone very far when he met a very big Rakshas, and he cried out\nto him, \"Uncle.\" \"Who is this boy,\" said the Rakshas, \"who calls me\nuncle?\" And he was just going to kill him when H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1lb\u00e1s\u00e1 showed his\nletter, and the Rakshas let him pass on. He went a little further\nuntil he met another Rakshas, bigger than the first, and the Rakshas\nscreamed at him and was just going to fall on him and kill him, but\nthe R\u00e1j\u00e1's son showed the letter, and the Rakshas let him pass\nunhurt. When H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1lb\u00e1s\u00e1 came to the Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed's mother he showed\nher the letter, and she gave him the rose-water at once and sent him\noff. All the Rakshases were very good to him, and some carried him\npart of the way home. When he came to Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed's house she was\nlying on her bed with the stick at her feet, and as soon as she saw\nH\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1lb\u00e1s\u00e1 she laughed and said, \"Oh, you have come back again? Put\nthis stick at my head.\" \"Yes,\" said the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son, \"I've come back\nagain, but I was dreadfully frightened very often.\" Then he put the\nstick at her head, and she gave him some food to eat. After he had\neaten it he went on again, and when he came to the river the\nwater-snake carried him across to the other side, and he travelled to\nhis father's kingdom. There he went to the Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed and gave her\nthe rose-water. She was very angry at seeing him, and said, \"I'm sure\nmy father and my mother, my brothers and my sisters, don't love me one\nbit.\"\n\nAnd she said to H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1lb\u00e1s\u00e1, \"You must go to-morrow to the Rakshas\nkingdom to fetch me flowers.\" \"I will go,\" said H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l, \"but this\ntime I must have four shields full of rupees.\" The Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed gave\nhim the four shields full of rupees; and the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son went to his\nmother's hole and bought a quantity of food for them, enough to last\nthem all the time he should be away, and he hired two servants for\nthem, and said good-bye to his seven mothers and returned to\nM\u00e1nikb\u00e1s\u00e1's palace for his letter. This the Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed gave him, and\nin it she wrote, \"Kill him and eat him at once. If you do not, and you\nsend him back to me, I will never see your faces again.\" H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l took\nhis letters and went on his way. When he reached the river the\nwater-snake took him across to the other side, and he walked on till\nhe came to Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed's house. She was lying on the bed with the\nstick at her feet. \"Oh, why have you come here again?\" she said. \"How\ncan I help coming?\" said the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son. \"I must do what my mistress\nbids me.\" \"So you must,\" said the Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed; \"but put this stick at\nmy head.\" This he did, and she got up and gave him food, and asked him\nto let her see his letter, and when she had read it she cried, \"This\nis a very wicked letter. If you take it with you, you will surely\ndie.\" Then she tore up the letter and burnt it, and wrote another in\nwhich she said, \"You must all be very good to this boy. Show him all\nthe gardens and see that he is not hurt in any way.\" She gave it to\nH\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l, and he begged her to ask the Rakshas, her father, where he\nkept his soul. Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed promised she would. She then turned\nH\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l into a little fly, and put him into a tiny box, and put the\nbox under her pillow. When the Rakshas came home he began sniffing\nabout and said, \"Surely there is a man here.\" \"Oh, no,\" said Sonahr\u00ed\nR\u00e1n\u00ed; \"no one is here but me.\" The Rakshas was satisfied. When Sonahr\u00ed\nR\u00e1n\u00ed and her father were in bed she asked, \"Papa, where is your soul?\"\n\"Why do you want to know?\" said the Rakshas. \"I will tell you another\nday.\"\n\nThe next day at nine in the morning the Rakshas went away, and Sonahr\u00ed\nR\u00e1n\u00ed took H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l and restored him to his human shape, and gave him\nsome food, and he travelled on till he reached the Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed's\nmother, whom he called Grannie. She welcomed him very kindly and\nshowed him the garden, which was very large. The R\u00e1j\u00e1's son noticed a\nnumber of jugs and water-jars. So he said, \"Grannie, what is there in\nall these jars and jugs?\" She answered, showing them to him one by\none, \"In this is such and such a thing,\" and so on, telling him the\ncontents of each, till she came to the water-jar in which were his\nmothers' eyes. \"In this jar,\" said the Rakshas, \"are your seven\nmothers' eyes.\" \"Oh, grannie dear!\" said H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l, \"give me my mothers'\neyes.\" \"Very well, dear boy,\" said the old Rakshas, \"you shall have\nthem.\" She gave him, too, some ointment, and told him to rub the eyes\nwith it when he put them into his mothers' heads, and that then they\nwould see quite well; and he took the eyes and tied them up in a\ncorner of his cloth. His grannie gave him the flowers, and he went\nback to Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed. She was lying on her bed with the stick at her\nfeet, and when she saw him she laughed and said, \"Oh, so you have come\nback again?\" \"Yes, I have,\" said H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l; \"and I have got the flowers,\nand my seven mothers' eyes too.\" \"Have you indeed?\" said Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed.\n\"Put this stick at my head.\" He did so, and she got up and gave him\nsome food, and he told her to ask her father the Rakshas where his\nsoul was. She promised she would, and she changed him into a little\nfly, and shut him up in a tiny box, and put the tiny box under her\npillow. By and by home came the Rakshas, and began to sniff about\ncrying, \"A man is here!\" \"Oh, no,\" said Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed; and she gave him\nsome dinner, and when they were in bed she asked him, \"Papa, where is\nyour soul?\" \"I'll tell you another day,\" said the Rakshas. The next\nday, when he had gone out to find food, Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed took the little\nfly, H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l, and restored him to his human shape, and gave him some\nfood and sent him on his way. When he reached the river, the\nwater-snake took him over to the other side, and he journeyed on till\nhe came to his father's kingdom. First he went to his mothers' hole\nand gave them their fourteen eyes, and he put them into their heads\nwith the ointment which the Rakshas-grannie had given him. Then he\nwent to M\u00e1nikb\u00e1s\u00e1 R\u00e1j\u00e1's palace, and when the Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed saw him she\nwas furious. \"I am sure my father and my mother, my sisters and my\nbrothers, do not love me one bit. I will never see their faces again.\nBut I'll send him to them once more.\"\n\nThis is what she thought, but she took the flowers and said, \"You must\ngo a third time to the Rakshas country.\"\n\n\"I will,\" said the boy: \"only I'll not go till the fourth day from\nto-day, for I am very tired. And you must give me four shields full of\nrupees.\" \"Good,\" said the Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed. \"This time you must get me a\ns\u00e1r\u00ed.\"[2] And she gave him the four shields full of money. Then he\nwent to his mothers, and bought them a house and got food for them,\nand stayed with them four days.\n\nAt the end of the four days he went to the Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed, who gave him\na letter in which she had written, \"If you do not kill and eat this\nboy as soon as he arrives, I will never see your faces again.\" The\nR\u00e1j\u00e1's son took the letter and set out on his journey.\n\nWhen he came to the river, the water-snake took him across; and when\nhe arrived at Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed's house, there she was lying on her bed\nwith the thick stick at her feet. She said, \"Oh, you have come here\nagain, have you?\" \"Yes,\" he said, \"I have come for the last time.\"\n\"Put the stick at my head,\" said she. So he laid the stick at her\nhead. Then she gave him some food, and just before the Rakshas came\nhome, he bade her ask him where he kept his soul. When she saw him\ncoming, Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed turned H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1lb\u00e1s\u00e1 into a little fly, put him in\na tiny box, and put the box under her pillow. As soon as she and the\nRakshas had gone to bed, she asked him, \"Papa, where do you keep your\nsoul?\" \"Sixteen miles away from this place,\" said he, \"is a tree.\nRound the tree are tigers, and bears, and scorpions, and snakes; on\nthe top of the tree is a very great fat snake; on his head is a little\ncage; in the cage is a bird; and my soul is in that bird.\" The little\nfly listened all the time. The next morning, when the Rakshas had\ngone, Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed took the fly and gave him back his human form, gave\nhim some food, and then asked to see his letter. When she had read it\nshe screamed and said, \"Oh! if you go with this letter you will\nsurely die.\" So she tore it up into little bits and threw it into the\nfire. And she wrote another in which she said, \"Make a great deal of\nthis boy; see that he gets no hurt; give him the s\u00e1r\u00ed for me; show him\nthe garden; and be very kind to him.\" She then gave H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l the\nletter, and he journeyed on in safety till he reached his\nRakshas-grannie's house.\n\nThe Rakshas-grannie was very good to him; showed him the garden, and\ngave him the s\u00e1r\u00ed; and he then said his mother, the Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed, was\nin great trouble about her soul, and wanted very much to have it. So\nthe Rakshas-grannie gave him a bird in which was the Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed's\nsoul, charging him to take the greatest care of it. Then he said, \"My\nmother, the Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed, also wants a stone such that, if you lay it\non the ground, or if you put it in your clothes, it will become gold,\nand also your long heavy gold necklace that hangs down to the waist.\"\nBoth these things the Rakshas-grannie gave to H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l. Then he\nreturned to Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed's house, where he found her lying on her bed\nwith the thick stick at her feet. \"Oh, there you are,\" said Sonahr\u00ed\nR\u00e1n\u00ed, laughing. \"Yes,\" he said, \"I have come.\" And he put the stick at\nher head, and she got up and gave him some food.\n\nHe told her he was going to fetch her Rakshas-father's soul, but that\nhe did not quite know how to pass through the tigers and bears, and\nscorpions and snakes, that guarded it. So she gave him a feather, and\nsaid, \"As long as you hold this feather straight, you can come to no\nharm, for you will be invisible. You will see everything, but nothing\nwill see you.\"\n\nHe carried the feather straight as she had bidden him and reached the\ntree in safety. Then he climbed up it, took the little cage, and came\ndown again. Though the Rakshas was far off, he knew at once something\nhad happened to his bird. H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l pulled off the bird's right leg, and\nthe Rakshas' right leg fell off, but on he hopped on one leg. Then\nthe R\u00e1j\u00e1's son pulled off the bird's left leg, and off fell the\nRakshas' left leg, but still he went on towards his house on his\nhands. Then H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l pulled off the bird's wings, and the Rakshas' two\narms fell off. And then, just as the Rakshas reached the door of his\nhouse, H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l wrung the bird's neck, and the Rakshas fell dead.\nSonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed was greatly frightened when she heard such a heavy thing\nfall thump on the ground so close to the house, but she could not\nmove, for the thick stick lay at her feet. H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l ran as fast as he\ncould to Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed. When he arrived at the door of her house he saw\nthe Rakshas lying dead, and he went in and told Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed that her\nRakshas-father was killed. \"Nonsense,\" she said. \"It is true,\" said\nH\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l; \"come and see.\" So he put the stick at her head. \"I am sure\nyou are telling a lie,\" said Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed. \"I should be very glad if\nhe were dead, for I do not like living with him, I am so afraid of\nhim.\" \"Indeed he's dead. Do come and see,\" said H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l. Then they\nwent outside, and when Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed saw her Rakshas-father lying there\ndead, she was exceedingly happy, and said to H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l, \"I will go home\nwith you, and be your wife.\" So they were married, and then they went\ninto Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed's Rakshas-father's house and took all the money and\njewels they could find. And H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l gave the s\u00e1r\u00ed, the stone, and the\nnecklace to Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed, and he took some flowers for the\nRakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed.\n\nWhen they came to the river, the water-snake carried them across to\nthe other side, and they travelled on till they came to M\u00e1nikb\u00e1s\u00e1\nR\u00e1j\u00e1's kingdom. There H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l went first of all to his mothers, and\nwhen they saw Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed they wondered who the beautiful woman could\nbe that their son had brought home. He said to them, \"This is Sonahr\u00ed\nR\u00e1n\u00ed, my wife. But for her I should have died.\" Then he bought a grand\nhouse for Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed and his seven mothers to live in, and he got\nfour servants for Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed, two to cook, and two to wait on her.\nThe seven mothers and Sonahr\u00ed used all to sit on a beautiful, clean\nquilted cushion, as big as a carpet, Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed in the middle and\nthe seven mothers round her, while they sewed, or wrote, and talked.\nH\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l then went to the Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed and said, \"I could not get the\ns\u00e1r\u00ed you sent me for, so I brought you these flowers instead.\" When\nshe saw the flowers she was frantic. She said, \"My father, my mother,\nmy sisters, my brothers, don't care for me, not one bit! not one\nscrap! I will never see their faces again--never! never! I will send\nsome other messenger to them.\"\n\nOne day the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son came to M\u00e1nikb\u00e1s\u00e1 and said, \"Would you like to\nsee a grand sight?\" M\u00e1nikb\u00e1s\u00e1 R\u00e1j\u00e1 said, \"What sight?\" H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l said,\n\"If you would like to see a really grand sight you must do what I tell\nyou.\" \"Good,\" answered M\u00e1nikb\u00e1s\u00e1, \"I will do whatever you tell me.\"\n\"Well, then,\" said his son, \"you must build a very strong iron house,\nand round it you must lay heaps of wood. In that house you must put\nyour present R\u00e1n\u00ed.\" So M\u00e1nikb\u00e1s\u00e1 R\u00e1j\u00e1 had a very strong iron house\nbuilt, round which he set walls of wood. Then he went to his\nRakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed and said, \"Will you go inside that iron house, and see\nwhat it is like?\" \"Yes, I will,\" answered she. The R\u00e1j\u00e1 had had great\nvenetians made for the house, and only one door. As soon as the\nRakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed had gone in, he locked the door. Then H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l took the\nlittle bird, a cockatoo, in which was the Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed's soul, and\nshowed it to the Rakshas-R\u00e1n\u00ed from afar off. When she saw it she\nturned herself into a huge Rakshas as big as a house. She could not\nturn in the iron house because she was so huge. M\u00e1nikb\u00e1s\u00e1 was\ndreadfully frightened when he saw his R\u00e1n\u00ed was a horrible Rakshas.\nThen H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l pulled off the bird's legs, and as the Rakshas was\nbreaking through the iron house to seize H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l, he wrung the\ncockatoo's neck, and the Rakshas died instantly. They set fire to the\nwalls of wood, and the body of the wicked Rakshas was burnt to fine\nashes.\n\nThe R\u00e1j\u00e1's Waz\u00edr turned to the R\u00e1j\u00e1 and said, \"What a fool you were to\nmarry this Rakshas, and at her bidding to send your seven wives and\nyour seven sons away into the jungle, taking out your seven wives'\neyes, and being altogether so cruel to them! You are a great, great\nfool!\" The poor R\u00e1j\u00e1 wept, and then the Waz\u00edr, pointing to H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l,\nsaid, \"This is your seventh and youngest R\u00e1n\u00ed's son.\" The R\u00e1j\u00e1 then\nembraced H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1lb\u00e1s\u00e1 and asked his forgiveness. And H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l told him\nhis story, how he and his mothers had lived a long, long time in the\nhole; how six of the R\u00e1n\u00eds had eaten their children; how his mother\nhad not had the heart to eat him; how he had got his seven mothers'\neyes from the Rakshas-grannie; and lastly, how he had married Sonahr\u00ed\nR\u00e1n\u00ed. Then the R\u00e1j\u00e1 ordered seven litters for his seven R\u00e1n\u00eds, and a\nbeautiful litter with rich cloth for Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed. The R\u00e1j\u00e1 and his\nWaz\u00edr and his attendants, and his son, all went with the litters to\nH\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l's house; and when the R\u00e1j\u00e1 saw Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed he fell flat on\nhis face, he was so struck by her beauty. For she had a fair, fair\nskin, rosy cheeks, blue eyes, rosy lips, golden eyelashes, and golden\neyebrows, and golden hair. When she combed her hair, she used to put\nthe hair she combed out in paper and to lay the paper on the river,\nand it floated down to where the poor people caught it, and sold it,\nand got heaps of money for it. Her s\u00e1r\u00ed was of gold, her shoes were of\ngold, for God loved her dearly. Then the R\u00e1j\u00e1 rose and embraced all\nhis wives and Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed, and the seven R\u00e1n\u00eds walked into the seven\nlitters; but Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed was carried to hers, for fear she should\nsoil her feet, or get hurt. Then M\u00e1nikb\u00e1s\u00e1 R\u00e1j\u00e1 gave H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l's house\nto his Waz\u00edr, while his seven R\u00e1n\u00eds and H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l and Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed lived\nwith him in his palace. And they lived happily for ever after.\n\n Told by Dunkn\u00ed at Simla, 26th July and 1st August, 1876.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n [2] A long piece of stuff which Hind\u00fa women wind round the body\n as a petticoat, passing one end over the head, like a veil.\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXII.\n\nTHE MAN WHO WENT TO SEEK HIS FATE.\n\n\nOnce there was a very poor man who had a wife and twelve children, and\nnot a single rupee. The poor children used to cry with hunger, and the\nman and his wife did not know what to do. At last he got furious with\nGod and said, \"How wicked God is! He gives me a great many children,\nbut no money.\" So he set out to find his fate. In the jungle he met a\ncamel with two heavy sacks of gold on its back. This camel belonged to\na R\u00e1j\u00e1, and once it was travelling with other camels and with the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1's servants to another country, and carrying the sacks of gold.\nEvery night they encamped and started again early in the morning; but\none morning the servants forgot to take this camel with them, and the\ncamel forgot the road home, and the sacks were too tightly strapped\nfor it to get rid of them. So it wandered about the jungle with the\nsacks on its back for twelve years. The camel asked the poor man where\nhe was going. \"I am going to seek my fate, to ask it why I am so\npoor,\" he answered. The camel said, \"Ask it, too, why for twelve years\nI have had to carry these two sacks of gold. All this time I have not\nbeen able to lie down, or to eat, or to drink.\" \"Very well,\" said the\nman, and he went on.\n\nThen he came to a river in which he saw an alligator. The alligator\ntook him across, and when he got to the other side it asked him where\nhe was going. The man said, \"I am going to seek my fate, to ask it\nwhy I am so poor.\" \"Then,\" said the alligator, \"ask it also why for\ntwelve years I have a great burning in my stomach.\" \"I will,\" said the\nman.\n\nThen he went on and on till he came to a tiger, who was lying on the\nground with a great thorn sticking in his foot. This tiger had gone\nout one day to hunt for food, and not looking where he was going, he\nput his foot on the thorn, and the thorn ran into his foot. And so God\ngrew very angry and said, \"Because you are such a careless, stupid\nfellow, and don't look where you are going, for twelve years this\nthorn shall remain in your foot.\" \"Where are you going?\" the tiger\nasked the man. \"I am going to seek my fate, to ask it why I am so\npoor. Some one told me that my fate was far, far away, a twelve years'\njourney from my own country, and that it was lying down, and that I\nmust take a thick stick and beat it with all my might.\" \"Ask it, too,\"\nsaid the tiger, \"why for twelve years I have had this thorn in my foot\nand cannot get it out, though I have tried hard to do so.\" \"Yes, I\nwill,\" said the man.\n\nThen he came to the place where every one's fate lives. The fates are\nstones, some standing and others lying on the ground. \"This must be\nmine,\" he said; \"it is lying on the ground, that's why I am so poor.\"\nSo he took the thick stick he had in his hand, and beat it, and beat\nit, and beat it, but still it would not stir. As night was approaching\nhe left off beating it, and God sent a soul into the poor man's fate,\nand it became a man, who stood looking at the poor man and said, \"Why\nhave you beaten me so much?\" \"Because you were lying down, and I am\nvery poor, and at home my wife and my children are starving.\" \"Oh,\nthings will go well with you now,\" said the fate, and the man was\nsatisfied. He said to his fate, \"While coming here I met a camel who\nfor twelve years has had to wander about with two heavy sacks of gold\non its back, and it wants to know why it must carry them.\" \"Oh,\" said\nthe fate, \"just take the sacks off its back and then it will be free.\"\n\"I will,\" said the poor man. \"Then I met an alligator who for twelve\nyears has had a great burning in its stomach.\" The fate said, \"In its\nstomach is a very large ruby, as big as your hand. If the alligator\nwill only throw up the ruby, it will be quite well.\" \"Next I met a\ntiger who has had for twelve years a great thorn in his foot which he\ncannot take out.\" \"Pull it out with your teeth,\" said the fate; and\nthen God withdrew the soul, and the fate became a stone again which\nstood up on the ground.\n\nThen the man set out on his journey home, and he came to the tiger.\n\"What did your fate say?\" said the tiger. \"Give me your foot and I\nwill take out the thorn,\" said the poor man. The tiger stretched out\nthe foot with the thorn in it, and the man pulled out the thorn with\nhis teeth. It was a very large thorn, as big as the man's hand. The\ntiger felt grateful to the poor man, and as he was very rich, for he\nhad eaten a great many R\u00e1j\u00e1s and people, and had all their money, he\nsaid to the man, \"I will give you some gold in return for your\nkindness.\" \"You have no money,\" said the man. \"I have,\" said the\ntiger, and he went into his den, and the poor man followed. \"Give me\nyour cloth,\" said the tiger. The man laid it on the ground. Then the\ntiger took quantities of gold and jewels and filled the cloth with\nthem. And the poor man took up his cloth, thanked the tiger, and went\nhis way. Then he met the alligator who took him across the river. The\nalligator said, \"Did you ask your fate why there is such burning in my\nstomach?\" \"I did,\" said the man. \"It is because you have a very large\nruby in your stomach. If you will only throw it up, you will be quite\nwell.\" Then the alligator threw the ruby up out of its mouth, and that\nvery instant the burning in its stomach ceased. \"Ah,\" said the\nalligator, looking at the ruby, \"I swallowed that one day when I was\ndrinking.\" And he gave the ruby to the man, saying, \"In return for\nyour kindness I will give you this ruby. It is a very precious stone.\"\n(In old days every R\u00e1j\u00e1 possessed such a ruby; now very few R\u00e1j\u00e1s, if\nany, have one.) The poor man thanked the alligator, put the ruby into\nhis cloth, and went on his way till he came to the camel, who said,\n\"Did you ask your fate why I have to carry these two sacks of gold?\"\n\"I did,\" said the man, and he took the sacks off the camel's back. How\nhappy and grateful the camel felt! \"How kind of you,\" he said to the\nman, \"to take the sacks off. Now I can eat, now I can drink, and now I\ncan lie down. Because you have been so kind to me, I give you the two\nsacks of gold, and I will carry them and your bundle home to your\nhouse for you, and then I will come back and live here in the jungle.\"\nThen the poor man put the two sacks of gold and his bundle on the\ncamel, who carried them to his house. When he got there, he took the\nsacks and his bundle off the camel, who thanked him again for his\nkindness and went back to his jungle, feeling very glad at having got\nrid of his heavy burthen.\n\nWhen the poor man's wife and children saw the gold and jewels and the\nruby, they cried, \"Where did you get these?\" And the man told them his\nwhole story. And he bought food for his wife and children, and gave\nthem a beautiful house, and got them clothes, for now he was very\nrich.\n\nAnother poor man who was not quite, but nearly, as poor as this man\nhad been, asked him where he had got his riches. \"I got them out of a\nriver,\" answered the man. \"I drew the water with a bucket, and in\nevery bucketful there was gold.\" The other man started off to the\nriver and began drawing up water in a bucket. \"Stop, stop!\" cried an\nalligator, who was the king of the fishes; \"you are taking all the\nwater out of the river and my fishes will die.\" \"I want money,\" said\nthe man, \"and I can find none, so I am taking the water out of the\nriver in order to get some.\" \"You shall have some in a minute,\" said\nthe alligator, \"only do stop drawing the water.\" Then a great wave of\nwater dashed on to the land and dashed back into the river, leaving\nbehind it a great heap of gold, which the man picked up joyfully. The\nnext day he came again, and night and day he drew water out of the\nriver. At last the alligator got very angry, and said, \"My fishes will\nall die for want of water. Once I gave the man a heap of gold, and yet\nhe wants more. I won't give him any,\" and the alligator thrust up his\nhead out of the river, and swallowed the man whole. For four days and\nfour nights the man lived in the alligator's stomach. At the end of\nthe fourth night the king of the fishes said to him, \"I will let you\nget out of my stomach on condition that you tell no man what has\nhappened to you. If you do, you will die instantly.\" The man jumped\nout of the alligator's mouth and walked towards his house. On his way\nhe met some men and told them what had happened to him, and as soon as\nhe got home he told his wife and children, and the moment he had done\nso he became mad and dumb and blood came out of his mouth, and he fell\ndown dead.\n\n Told by Dunkn\u00ed.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXIII.\n\nTHE UPRIGHT KING.\n\n\nThere was a great Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 whose name was Harchand R\u00e1j\u00e1, and he had an\nonly son called M\u00e1nikchand. He was very rich and had a great deal of\nmoney, and he also had a very large garden full of lovely flowers and\nfruits which he prized greatly. Every morning before he bathed he used\nto give some poor fak\u00edr two pounds and a half of gold. Now Harchand\nMah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 used to pray a great deal to God, and God was very fond of\nhim, so he said one day, \"To see if Harchand Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 really loves me,\nI will make him very poor for twelve years.\" And at night God came\ndown in the shape of a great boar, and ate up everything that was in\nHarchand Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1's garden. The boar then ran away into the jungle.\nNext morning the gardener got up and looked out into the garden, and\nwhat was his astonishment when he saw it was all spoilt. Nothing was\nleft in it; it was not a garden any more. He went quickly to the\nMah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 and said, \"Oh, master! oh, Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1! your garden is quite\nspoilt. Last night a boar came and ate up everything in it.\"\n\"Nonsense,\" said the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1, who would not believe him. \"It is quite\ntrue,\" said the gardener; \"you can come and see for yourself.\" So the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1 got up at once and put on his clothes, and went into the garden,\nand found it all empty. He went back to the house very melancholy.\nThen as usual he gave a fak\u00edr his two pounds and a half of gold. After\nbreakfast he went out hunting. The boar which had run away into the\nwood changed himself into a very old fak\u00edr, who shook from old age. As\nHarchand Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 passed, the old fak\u00edr held out his hand, saying,\n\"Please give me a few pice, I am so poor and hungry.\" The Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1\nsaid, \"Come to my palace and I will give you two pounds and a half of\ngold.\" \"Oh, no,\" said the fak\u00edr, \"surely you would never give me so\nmuch as that.\" \"Yes, I will,\" said the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1. \"Every morning before\nI bathe I give a fak\u00edr two pounds and a half of gold.\" \"Nonsense,\"\nsaid the fak\u00edr, \"you don't give away your money in that way.\" \"Really,\nI do,\" said the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1, \"and I promise to give you two pounds and a\nhalf of gold.\" So the fak\u00edr followed Harchand Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 home, and when\nthey reached the palace, the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 told his treasurer to give the\nold fak\u00edr two pounds and a half of gold. The treasurer went into the\ntreasury, but all the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1's gold and silver and jewels had become\ncharcoal! The treasurer came out again to the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 saying, \"Oh,\nMah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1, all your gold and silver and jewels are turned into\ncharcoal!\" \"Oh, nonsense,\" said the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1. \"Come and see,\nMah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1,\" said the treasurer, who was in a great fright. The Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1\nwent into his treasury, and was quite sad at the sight of the\ncharcoal. \"Alas!\" he said, \"God has made me very poor, but still I\nmust give this fak\u00edr his money.\" So he went to the fak\u00edr and said,\n\"All my gold and silver and jewels are turned into charcoal; but I\nwill sell my wife, and my boy, and myself, and then I will give you\nthe money I promised you.\" And he went and fetched his wife and son,\nand left his palace, his houses, servants, and possessions.\n\nHe then went to a merchant, who bought from him his Mah\u00e1r\u00e1n\u00ed, who was\ncalled H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00ed, that is, the diamond lady, for she was very beautiful,\nand her face shone like a diamond. Her hands were very small, and so\nwere her feet. The merchant gave the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 a pound of gold for the\nMah\u00e1r\u00e1n\u00ed. Next, Harchand Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 went to a cowherd and sold him his\nson M\u00e1nikchand. The cowherd gave him for the boy half a pound of gold.\nThen he went to a dom, that is, a man of a very low caste, who kept a\ntank into which it was his business to throw the bodies of those who\ndied. If it was a dead man or woman, the dom took one rupee, if it was\na dead child he was only paid eight annas. To this dom Harchand sold\nhimself for a pound of gold, and he gave the two pounds and a half of\ngold to the fak\u00edr, who then went home. The dom said, \"Will you stay by\nthe tank for a few days while I go home and do my other work, which is\nweaving baskets? If any one brings you a dead body you must throw it\ninto the water. If it is the body of a man or woman, take one rupee in\npayment; if it is a dead child, take eight annas; and if the bearers\nhave got no money, take a bit of cloth. Don't forget.\" And the dom\nwent away, leaving Harchand sitting by the tank.\n\nWell, Harchand Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 sat for some days by the tank, and when any\none brought him dead bodies he threw them into it. For a dead man or\nwoman he took one rupee, for a dead child eight annas, and if the\nbearers had no money to give him, he took some cloth. Some time had\npassed, and M\u00e1nikchand, the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1's son, died; so H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed went\nto the cowherd to ask him for her dead child. The cowherd gave him to\nher, and she took him to the tank. Harchand Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 was sitting by\nthe tank, and when H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00ed Mah\u00e1r\u00e1n\u00ed saw him she said, \"I know that man\nis my husband, so he will not take any money for throwing his child\ninto the water.\" So she went up to him and said, \"Will you throw this\nchild into the tank for me?\" \"Yes, I will,\" said Harchand Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1;\n\"only first give me eight annas.\" \"You surely won't take any money for\nthrowing your own son into the tank?\" said the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1n\u00ed. \"You must pay\nme,\" said Harchand Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1, \"for I must obey the dom's orders. If you\nhave no money, give me a piece of cloth.\" So the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1n\u00ed tore off a\ngreat piece of her s\u00e1r\u00ed and gave it him, and the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 took his son\nand threw him into the tank. As he threw him in he cried out to the\nking of the fishes, who was an alligator, \"Take great care of this\nbody.\" The king of fishes said, \"I will.\" Then the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1n\u00ed went back\nto the merchant.\n\nAnd the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 caught a fish, and cooked it, and laid it by the\ntank, saying, \"I will go and bathe and then I will eat it.\" So he took\noff his clothes and went into the tank to bathe, and when he had\nbathed he put on fresh clothes, and as he took hold of his fish to eat\nit, it slipped back alive into the water, although it had been dead\nand cooked. The Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 sat down by the tank again, very sad. He\nsaid, \"For twelve years I have found it hard to get anything to eat;\nhow long will God keep me without food?\" God was very pleased with\nHarchand for being so patient, for he had never complained.\n\nSome days later God came down to earth in the shape of a man, and with\nhim he took an angel to be his Waz\u00edr. The Waz\u00edr said to God, \"Come\nthis way and let us see who it is sitting by the tank.\" \"No,\" said\nGod, \"I am too tired, I can go no further.\" \"Do come,\" said the Waz\u00edr;\n\"I want so much to go.\" God said, \"Well, let us go.\" Then they walked\non till they came to the place where Harchand Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 was sitting,\nand God said to him, \"Would you like to have your wife, and your son,\nand your kingdom back again?\" \"Yes, I should,\" said the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1; \"but\nhow can I get them?\" \"Tell me truly,\" said God, \"would you like to\nhave your kingdom back again?\" \"Indeed I should,\" said the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1.\nThen M\u00e1nikchand's body, which had never sunk to the bottom of the tank\nlike the other bodies, but had always floated on the water, rose up\nout of the water, and M\u00e1nikchand was alive once more. The father and\nson embraced each other. \"Now,\" said God, \"let us go to the dom.\"\nHarchand Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 agreed, and they went to the dom and asked him how\nmuch he would take for Harchand Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1. The dom said, \"I gave one\npound of gold for him, and I will take two pounds.\" So they paid down\nthe two pounds of gold. Then they went to the merchant and said to\nhim, \"How much will you take for H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed?\" The merchant said, \"I\ngave a pound of gold for her; I will take four pounds.\" So they paid\ndown the four pounds of gold, took H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed, and went to the\ncowherd. \"How much will you take for M\u00e1nikchand?\" said they to him. \"I\ngave half a pound of gold for him,\" answered the cowherd; \"I will take\none pound.\" So they paid down the pound of gold, and Harchand Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1\nwent home to his palace, taking with him H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed and M\u00e1nikchand,\nafter thanking the strange man for his goodness to them. When they\nreached the palace, the garden was in splendid beauty; the charcoal\nwas turned back into gold, and silver, and jewels; the servants were\nin waiting as usual, and they went into the palace and lived happily\nfor evermore.\n\n Told by Dunkn\u00ed.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXIV.\n\nLOVING LAIL\u00cd.\n\n\nOnce there was a king called King Dant\u00e1l, who had a great many rupees\nand soldiers and horses. He had also an only son called Prince Majn\u00fan,\nwho was a handsome boy with white teeth, red lips, blue eyes, red\ncheeks, red hair, and a white skin. This boy was very fond of playing\nwith the Waz\u00edr's son, Husain Mah\u00e1mat, in King Dant\u00e1l's garden, which\nwas very large and full of delicious fruits, and flowers, and trees.\nThey used to take their little knives there and cut the fruits and eat\nthem. King Dant\u00e1l had a teacher for them to teach them to read and\nwrite.\n\nOne day, when they were grown two fine young men, Prince Majn\u00fan said\nto his father, \"Husain Mah\u00e1mat and I should like to go and hunt.\" His\nfather said they might go, so they got ready their horses and all else\nthey wanted for their hunting, and went to the Phal\u00e1n\u00e1 country,\nhunting all the way, but they only found jackals and birds.\n\nThe R\u00e1j\u00e1 of the Phal\u00e1n\u00e1 country was called M\u00fans\u00fak R\u00e1j\u00e1, and he had a\ndaughter named Lail\u00ed, who was very beautiful; she had brown eyes and\nblack hair.\n\nOne night, some time before Prince Majn\u00fan came to her father's\nkingdom, as she slept, God sent to her an angel in the form of a man\nwho told her that she should marry Prince Majn\u00fan and no one else, and\nthat this was God's command to her. When Lail\u00ed woke she told her\nfather of the angel's visit to her as she slept; but her father paid\nno attention to her story. From that time she began repeating,\n\"Majn\u00fan, Majn\u00fan; I want Majn\u00fan,\" and would say nothing else. Even as\nshe sat and ate her food she kept saying, \"Majn\u00fan, Majn\u00fan; I want\nMajn\u00fan.\" Her father used to get quite vexed with her. \"Who is this\nMajn\u00fan? who ever heard of this Majn\u00fan?\" he would say. \"He is the man I\nam to marry,\" said Lail\u00ed. \"God has ordered me to marry no one but\nMajn\u00fan.\" And she was half mad. Meanwhile, Majn\u00fan and Husain Mah\u00e1mat\ncame to hunt in the Phal\u00e1n\u00e1 country; and as they were riding about,\nLail\u00ed came out on her horse to eat the air, and rode behind them. All\nthe time she kept saying, \"Majn\u00fan, Majn\u00fan; I want Majn\u00fan.\" The prince\nheard her, and turned round. \"Who is calling me?\" he asked. At this\nLail\u00ed looked at him, and the moment she saw him she fell deeply in\nlove with him, and she said to herself, \"I am sure that is the Prince\nMajn\u00fan that God says I am to marry.\" And she went home to her father\nand said, \"Father, I wish to marry the prince who has come to your\nkingdom; for I know he is the Prince Majn\u00fan I am to marry.\" \"Very\nwell, you shall have him for your husband,\" said M\u00fans\u00fak R\u00e1j\u00e1. \"We will\nask him to-morrow.\" Lail\u00ed consented to wait, although she was very\nimpatient. As it happened, the prince left the Phal\u00e1n\u00e1 kingdom that\nnight, and when Lail\u00ed heard he was gone, she went quite mad. She would\nnot listen to a word her father, or her mother, or her servants said\nto her, but went off into the jungle, and wandered from jungle to\njungle, till she got farther and farther away from her own country.\nAll the time she kept saying, \"Majn\u00fan, Majn\u00fan; I want Majn\u00fan;\" and so\nshe wandered about for twelve years.\n\nAt the end of the twelve years she met a fak\u00edr--he was really an\nangel, but she did not know this--who asked her, \"Why do you always\nsay, 'Majn\u00fan, Majn\u00fan; I want Majn\u00fan'?\" She answered, \"I am the\ndaughter of the king of the Phal\u00e1n\u00e1 country, and I want to find Prince\nMajn\u00fan; tell me where his kingdom is.\" \"I think you will never get\nthere,\" said the fak\u00edr, \"for it is very far from hence, and you have\nto cross many rivers to reach it.\" But Lail\u00ed said she did not care;\nshe must see Prince Majn\u00fan. \"Well,\" said the fak\u00edr, \"when you come to\nthe Bh\u00e1g\u00edrath\u00ed river you will see a big fish, a Roh\u00fa; and you must get\nhim to carry you to Prince Majn\u00fan's country, or you will never reach\nit.\"\n\nShe went on and on, and at last she came to the Bh\u00e1g\u00edrath\u00ed river.\nThere there was a great big fish called the Roh\u00fa fish. It was yawning\njust as she got up to it, and she instantly jumped down its throat\ninto its stomach. All the time she kept saying, \"Majn\u00fan, Majn\u00fan.\" At\nthis the Roh\u00fa fish was greatly alarmed and swam down the river as fast\nas he could. By degrees he got tired and went slower, and a crow came\nand perched on his back, and said, \"Caw, caw.\" \"Oh, Mr. Crow,\" said\nthe poor fish, \"do see what is in my stomach that makes such a noise.\"\n\"Very well,\" said the crow, \"open your mouth wide, and I'll fly down\nand see.\" So the Roh\u00fa opened his jaws and the crow flew down, but he\ncame up again very quickly. \"You have a Rakshas in your stomach,\" said\nthe crow, and he flew away. This news did not comfort the poor Roh\u00fa,\nand he swam on and on till he came to Prince Majn\u00fan's country. There\nhe stopped. And a jackal came down to the river to drink. \"Oh,\njackal,\" said the Roh\u00fa, \"do tell me what I have inside me.\" \"How can I\ntell?\" said the jackal. \"I cannot see unless I go inside you.\" So the\nRoh\u00fa opened his mouth wide, and the jackal jumped down his throat; but\nhe came up very quickly, looking much frightened and saying, \"You have\na Rakshas in your stomach, and if I don't run away quickly, I am\nafraid it will eat me.\" So off he ran. After the jackal came an\nenormous snake. \"Oh,\" says the fish, \"do tell me what I have in my\nstomach, for it rattles about so, and keeps saying, 'Majn\u00fan, Majn\u00fan; I\nwant Majn\u00fan.'\" The snake said, \"Open your mouth wide, and I'll go\ndown and see what it is.\" The snake went down: when he returned he\nsaid, \"You have a Rakshas in your stomach; but if you will let me cut\nyou open, it will come out of you.\" \"If you do that, I shall die,\"\nsaid the Roh\u00fa. \"Oh, no,\" said the snake, \"you will not, for I will\ngive you a medicine that will make you quite well again.\" So the fish\nagreed, and the snake got a knife and cut him open, and out jumped\nLail\u00ed.\n\nShe was now very old. Twelve years she had wandered about the jungle,\nand for twelve years she had lived inside her Roh\u00fa; and she was no\nlonger beautiful, and had lost her teeth. The snake took her on his\nback and carried her into the country, and there he put her down, and\nshe wandered on and on till she got to Majn\u00fan's court-house, where\nKing Majn\u00fan was sitting. There some men heard her crying, \"Majn\u00fan,\nMajn\u00fan; I want Majn\u00fan,\" and they asked her what she wanted. \"I want\nKing Majn\u00fan,\" she said. So they went in and said to Prince Majn\u00fan, \"An\nold woman outside says she wants you.\" \"I cannot leave this place,\"\nsaid he; \"send her in here.\" They brought her in and the prince asked\nher what she wanted. \"I want to marry you,\" she answered. \"Twenty-four\nyears ago you came to my father the Phal\u00e1n\u00e1 R\u00e1j\u00e1's country, and I\nwanted to marry you then; but you went away without marrying me. Then\nI went mad, and I have wandered about all these years looking for\nyou.\" Prince Majn\u00fan said, \"Very good.\" \"Pray to God,\" said Lail\u00ed, \"to\nmake us both young again, and then we shall be married.\" So the prince\nprayed to God, and God said to him, \"Touch Lail\u00ed's clothes and they\nwill catch fire, and when they are on fire, she and you will become\nyoung again.\" When he touched Lail\u00ed's clothes they caught fire, and\nshe and he became young again. And there were great feasts, and they\nwere married, and travelled to the Phal\u00e1n\u00e1 country to see her father\nand mother.\n\nNow Lail\u00ed's father and mother had wept so much for their daughter\nthat they had become quite blind, and her father kept always\nrepeating, \"Lail\u00ed, Lail\u00ed, Lail\u00ed.\" When Lail\u00ed saw their blindness, she\nprayed to God to restore their sight to them, which he did. As soon as\nthe father and mother saw Lail\u00ed, they hugged her and kissed her, and\nthen they had the wedding all over again amid great rejoicings. Prince\nMajn\u00fan and Lail\u00ed stayed with M\u00fans\u00fak R\u00e1j\u00e1 and his wife for three years,\nand then they returned to King Dant\u00e1l, and lived happily for some time\nwith him.\n\nThey used to go out hunting, and they often went from country to\ncountry to eat the air and amuse themselves.\n\nOne day Prince Majn\u00fan said to Lail\u00ed, \"Let us go through this jungle.\"\n\"No, no,\" said Lail\u00ed; \"if we go through this jungle, some harm will\nhappen to me.\" But Prince Majn\u00fan laughed, and went into the jungle.\nAnd as they were going through it, God thought, \"I should like to know\nhow much Prince Majn\u00fan loves his wife. Would he be very sorry if she\ndied? And would he marry another wife? I will see.\" So he sent one of\nhis angels in the form of a fak\u00edr into the jungle; and the angel went\nup to Lail\u00ed, and threw some powder in her face, and instantly she fell\nto the ground a heap of ashes.\n\nPrince Majn\u00fan was in great sorrow and grief when he saw his dear Lail\u00ed\nturn into a little heap of ashes; and he went straight home to his\nfather, and for a long, long time he would not be comforted. After a\ngreat many years he grew more cheerful and happy, and began to go\nagain into his father's beautiful garden with Husain Mah\u00e1mat. King\nDant\u00e1l wished his son to marry again. \"I will only have Lail\u00ed for my\nwife; I will not marry any other woman,\" said Prince Majn\u00fan. \"How can\nyou marry Lail\u00ed? Lail\u00ed is dead. She will never come back to you,\" said\nthe father. \"Then I'll not have any wife at all,\" said Prince Majn\u00fan.\n\nMeanwhile Lail\u00ed was living in the jungle where her husband had left\nher a little heap of ashes. As soon as Majn\u00fan had gone, the fak\u00edr had\ntaken her ashes and made them quite clean, and then he had mixed clay\nand water with the ashes, and made the figure of a woman with them,\nand so Lail\u00ed regained her human form, and God sent life into it. But\nLail\u00ed had become once more a hideous old woman, with a long, long\nnose, and teeth like tusks; just such an old woman, excepting her\nteeth, as she had been when she came out of the Roh\u00fa fish; and she\nlived in the jungle, and neither ate nor drank, and she kept on\nsaying, \"Majn\u00fan, Majn\u00fan; I want Majn\u00fan.\"\n\nAt last the angel who had come as a fak\u00edr and thrown the powder at\nher, said to God, \"Of what use is it that this woman should sit in the\njungle crying, crying for ever, 'Majn\u00fan, Majn\u00fan; I want Majn\u00fan,' and\neating and drinking nothing? Let me take her to Prince Majn\u00fan.\"\n\"Well,\" said God, \"you may do so; but tell her that she must not speak\nto Majn\u00fan if he is afraid of her when he sees her; and that if he is\nafraid when he sees her, she will become a little white dog the next\nday. Then she must go to the palace, and she will only regain her\nhuman shape when Prince Majn\u00fan loves her, feeds her with his own food,\nand lets her sleep in his bed.\" So the angel came to Lail\u00ed again as a\nfak\u00edr and carried her to King Dant\u00e1l's garden. \"Now,\" he said, \"it is\nGod's command that you stay here till Prince Majn\u00fan comes to walk in\nthe garden, and then you may show yourself to him. But you must not\nspeak to him, if he is afraid of you; and should he be afraid of you,\nyou will the next day become a little white dog.\" He then told her\nwhat she must do as a little dog to regain her human form.\n\nLail\u00ed stayed in the garden, hidden in the tall grass, till Prince\nMajn\u00fan and Husain Mah\u00e1mat came to walk in the garden. King Dant\u00e1l was\nnow a very old man, and Husain Mah\u00e1mat, though he was really only as\nold as Prince Majn\u00fan, looked a great deal older than the prince, who\nhad been made quite young again when he married Lail\u00ed.\n\nAs Prince Majn\u00fan and the Waz\u00edr's son walked in the garden, they\ngathered the fruit as they had done as little children, only they bit\nthe fruit with their teeth; they did not cut it. While Majn\u00fan was busy\neating a fruit in this way, and was talking to Husain Mah\u00e1mat, he\nturned towards him and saw Lail\u00ed walking behind the Waz\u00edr's son. \"Oh,\nlook, look!\" he cried, \"see what is following you; it is a Rakshas or\na demon, and I am sure it is going to eat us.\" Lail\u00ed looked at him\nbeseechingly with all her eyes, and trembled with age and eagerness;\nbut this only frightened Majn\u00fan the more. \"It is a Rakshas, a\nRakshas!\" he cried, and he ran quickly to the palace with the Waz\u00edr's\nson; and as they ran away, Lail\u00ed disappeared into the jungle. They ran\nto King Dant\u00e1l, and Majn\u00fan told him there was a Rakshas or a demon in\nthe garden that had come to eat them. \"What nonsense,\" said his\nfather. \"Fancy two grown men being so frightened by an old ayah or a\nfak\u00edr! And if it had been a Rakshas, it would not have eaten you.\"\nIndeed King Dant\u00e1l did not believe Majn\u00fan had seen anything at all,\ntill Husain Mah\u00e1mat said the prince was speaking the exact truth. They\nhad the garden searched for the terrible old woman, but found nothing,\nand King Dant\u00e1l told his son he was very silly to be so much\nfrightened. However, Prince Majn\u00fan would not walk in the garden any\nmore.\n\nThe next day Lail\u00ed turned into a pretty little dog; and in this shape\nshe came into the palace, where Prince Majn\u00fan soon became very fond of\nher. She followed him everywhere, went with him when he was out\nhunting, and helped him to catch his game, and Prince Majn\u00fan fed her\nwith milk, or bread, or anything else he was eating, and at night the\nlittle dog slept in his bed.\n\nBut one night the little dog disappeared, and in its stead there lay\nthe little old woman who had frightened him so much in the garden; and\nnow Prince Majn\u00fan was quite sure she was a Rakshas, or a demon, or\nsome such horrible thing come to eat him; and in his terror he cried\nout, \"What do you want? Oh, do not eat me; do not eat me!\" Poor Lail\u00ed\nanswered, \"Don't you know me? I am your wife Lail\u00ed, and I want to\nmarry you. Don't you remember how you would go through that jungle,\nthough I begged and begged you not to go, for I told you that harm\nwould happen to me, and then a fak\u00edr came and threw powder in my face,\nand I became a heap of ashes. But God gave me my life again, and\nbrought me here, after I had stayed a long, long while in the jungle\ncrying for you, and now I am obliged to be a little dog; but if you\nwill marry me, I shall not be a little dog any more.\" Majn\u00fan, however,\nsaid \"How can I marry an old woman like you? how can you be Lail\u00ed? I\nam sure you are a Rakshas or a demon come to eat me,\" and he was in\ngreat terror.\n\nIn the morning the old woman had turned into the little dog, and the\nprince went to his father and told him all that had happened. \"An old\nwoman! an old woman! always an old woman!\" said his father. \"You do\nnothing but think of old women. How can a strong man like you be so\neasily frightened?\" However, when he saw that his son was really in\ngreat terror, and that he really believed the old woman would come\nback at night, he advised him to say to her, \"I will marry you if you\ncan make yourself a young girl again. How can I marry such an old\nwoman as you are?\"\n\nThat night as he lay trembling in bed the little old woman lay there\nin place of the dog, crying, \"Majn\u00fan, Majn\u00fan, I want to marry you. I\nhave loved you all these long, long years. When I was in my father's\nkingdom a young girl, I knew of you, though you knew nothing of me,\nand we should have been married then if you had not gone away so\nsuddenly, and for long, long years I followed you.\" \"Well,\" said\nMajn\u00fan, \"if you can make yourself a young girl again, I will marry\nyou.\"\n\nLail\u00ed said, \"Oh, that is quite easy. God will make me a young girl\nagain. In two days' time you must go into the garden, and there you\nwill see a beautiful fruit. You must gather it and bring it into your\nroom and cut it open yourself very gently, and you must not open it\nwhen your father or anybody else is with you, but when you are quite\nalone; for I shall be in the fruit quite naked, without any clothes at\nall on.\" In the morning Lail\u00ed took her little dog's form, and\ndisappeared in the garden.\n\nPrince Majn\u00fan told all this to his father, who told him to do all the\nold woman had bidden him. In two days' time he and the Waz\u00edr's son\nwalked in the garden, and there they saw a large, lovely red fruit.\n\"Oh!\" said the Prince, \"I wonder shall I find my wife in that fruit.\"\nHusain Mah\u00e1mat wanted him to gather it and see, but he would not till\nhe had told his father, who said, \"That must be the fruit; go and\ngather it.\" So Majn\u00fan went back and broke the fruit off its stalk; and\nhe said to his father, \"Come with me to my room while I open it; I am\nafraid to open it alone, for perhaps I shall find a Rakshas in it that\nwill eat me.\" \"No,\" said King Dant\u00e1l; \"remember, Lail\u00ed will be naked;\nyou must go alone, and do not be afraid if, after all, a Rakshas is in\nthe fruit, for I will stay outside the door, and you have only to call\nme with a loud voice, and I will come to you, so the Rakshas will not\nbe able to eat you.\"\n\nThen Majn\u00fan took the fruit and began to cut it open tremblingly, for\nhe shook with fear; and when he had cut it, out stepped Lail\u00ed, young\nand far more beautiful than she had ever been. At the sight of her\nextreme beauty, Majn\u00fan fell backwards fainting on the floor.\n\nLail\u00ed took off his turban and wound it all round herself like a s\u00e1r\u00ed\n(for she had no clothes at all on), and then she called King Dant\u00e1l,\nand said to him sadly, \"Why has Majn\u00fan fallen down like this? Why will\nhe not speak to me? He never used to be afraid of me; and he has seen\nme so many, many times.\" King Dant\u00e1l answered, \"It is because you are\nso beautiful. You are far, far more beautiful than you ever were. But\nhe will be very happy directly.\" Then the King got some water, and\nthey bathed Majn\u00fan's face and gave him some to drink, and he sat up\nagain. Then Lail\u00ed said, \"Why did you faint? Did you not see I am\nLail\u00ed?\" \"Oh!\" said Prince Majn\u00fan, \"I see you are Lail\u00ed come back to\nme, but your eyes have grown so wonderfully beautiful, that I fainted\nwhen I saw them.\" Then they were all very happy, and King Dant\u00e1l had\nall the drums in the place beaten, and had all the musical instruments\nplayed on, and they made a grand wedding-feast, and gave presents to\nthe servants, and rice and quantities of rupees to the fak\u00edrs.\n\nAfter some time had passed very happily, Prince Majn\u00fan and his wife\nwent out to eat the air. They rode on the same horse, and had only a\ngroom with them. They came to another kingdom, to a beautiful garden.\n\"We must go into that garden and see it,\" said Majn\u00fan. \"No, no,\" said\nLail\u00ed; \"it belongs to a bad R\u00e1j\u00e1, Chumman B\u00e1s\u00e1, a very wicked man.\"\nBut Majn\u00fan insisted on going in, and in spite of all Lail\u00ed could say,\nhe got off the horse to look at the flowers. Now, as he was looking at\nthe flowers, Lail\u00ed saw Chumman B\u00e1s\u00e1 coming towards them, and she read\nin his eyes that he meant to kill her husband and seize her. So she\nsaid to Majn\u00fan, \"Come, come, let us go; do not go near that bad man. I\nsee in his eyes, and I feel in my heart, that he will kill you to\nseize me.\" \"What nonsense,\" said Majn\u00fan. \"I believe he is a very good\nR\u00e1j\u00e1. Anyhow, I am so near to him that I could not get away.\" \"Well,\"\nsaid Lail\u00ed, \"it is better that you should be killed than I, for if I\nwere to be killed a second time, God would not give me my life again;\nbut I can bring you to life if you are killed.\" Now Chumman B\u00e1s\u00e1 had\ncome quite near, and seemed very pleasant, so thought Prince Majn\u00fan;\nbut when he was speaking to Majn\u00fan, he drew his scimitar and cut off\nthe prince's head at one blow.\n\nLail\u00ed sat quite still on her horse, and as the R\u00e1j\u00e1 came towards her\nshe said, \"Why did you kill my husband?\" \"Because I want to take you,\"\nhe answered. \"You cannot,\" said Lail\u00ed. \"Yes, I can,\" said the R\u00e1j\u00e1.\n\"Take me, then,\" said Lail\u00ed to Chumman B\u00e1s\u00e1; so he came quite close\nand put out his hand to take hers to lift her off her horse. But she\nput her hand in her pocket and pulled out a tiny knife, only as long\nas her hand was broad, and this knife unfolded itself in one instant\ntill it was such a length! and then Lail\u00ed made a great sweep with her\narm and her long, long knife, and off came Chumman B\u00e1s\u00e1's head at one\ntouch.\n\nThen Lail\u00ed slipped down off her horse, and she went to Majn\u00fan's dead\nbody, and she cut her little finger inside her hand straight down from\nthe top of her nail to her palm, and out of this gushed blood like\nhealing medicine. Then she put Majn\u00fan's head on his shoulders, and\nsmeared her healing blood all over the wound, and Majn\u00fan woke up and\nsaid, \"What a delightful sleep I have had! Why, I feel as if I had\nslept for years!\" Then he got up and saw the R\u00e1j\u00e1's dead body by\nLail\u00ed's horse. \"What's that?\" said Majn\u00fan. \"That is the wicked R\u00e1j\u00e1\nwho killed you to seize me, just as I said he would.\" \"Who killed\nhim?\" asked Majn\u00fan. \"I did,\" answered Lail\u00ed, \"and it was I who brought\nyou to life.\" \"Do bring the poor man to life if you know how to do\nso,\" said Majn\u00fan. \"No,\" said Lail\u00ed, \"for he is a wicked man, and will\ntry to do you harm.\" But Majn\u00fan asked her for such a long time, and so\nearnestly to bring the wicked R\u00e1j\u00e1 to life, that at last she said,\n\"Jump up on the horse, then, and go far away with the groom.\" \"What\nwill you do,\" said Majn\u00fan, \"if I leave you? I cannot leave you.\" \"I\nwill take care of myself,\" said Lail\u00ed; \"but this man is so wicked, he\nmay kill you again if you are near him.\" So Majn\u00fan got up on the\nhorse, and he and the groom went a long way off and waited for Lail\u00ed.\nThen she set the wicked R\u00e1j\u00e1's head straight on his shoulders, and she\nsqueezed the wound in her finger till a little blood-medicine came out\nof it. Then she smeared this over the place where her knife had\npassed, and just as she saw the R\u00e1j\u00e1 opening his eyes, she began to\nrun, and she ran, and ran so fast, that she outran the R\u00e1j\u00e1, who tried\nto catch her; and she sprang up on the horse behind her husband, and\nthey rode so fast, so fast, till they reached King Dant\u00e1l's palace.\n\nThere Prince Majn\u00fan told everything to his father, who was horrified\nand angry. \"How lucky for you that you have such a wife,\" he said.\n\"Why did you not do what she told you? But for her, you would be now\ndead.\" Then he made a great feast out of gratitude for his son's\nsafety, and gave many, many rupees to the fak\u00edrs. And he made so much\nof Lail\u00ed. He loved her dearly; he could not do enough for her. Then he\nbuilt a splendid palace for her and his son, with a great deal of\nground about it, and lovely gardens, and gave them great wealth, and\nheaps of servants to wait on them. But he would not allow any but\ntheir servants to enter their gardens and palace, and he would not\nallow Majn\u00fan to go out of them, nor Lail\u00ed; \"for,\" said King Dant\u00e1l,\n\"Lail\u00ed is so beautiful, that perhaps some one may kill my son to take\nher away.\"\n\n Told by Dunkn\u00ed.\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXV.\n\nHOW KING BURTAL BECAME A FAK\u00cdR.\n\n\nOnce there was a great king called Burtal, and he had a hundred and\nsixty wives, but he had no children, which made him sad. One day he\nsaid to his wives, \"I am going to a very distant jungle which is full\nof antelopes, to hunt them.\" \"Very well,\" they answered, \"go.\" So he\nwent. In that jungle lived neither tigers nor men, but only antelopes.\nWhen King Burtal reached the jungle, some of the antelopes came to him\nand said, \"Pray don't kill the black antelope, for he is our R\u00e1j\u00e1, and\nwe have no other antelope like him among us; but try to kill any of\nthe others--the brown or the yellow antelopes--that you choose.\" Now,\nthe king was not a kind man, and he said, \"I will kill your black\nantelope, and no other.\" So he shot him dead. When the other antelopes\nsaw this they began to scream and cry with sorrow. But the dead\nantelope's wife said to them, \"There is a holy man, a fak\u00edr, in the\njungle. Let us take the dead body to him and ask him to bring our R\u00e1j\u00e1\nto life.\" And King Burtal laughed at them and said, \"How can any man\nbring a dead antelope to life?\" But the antelopes took the body of\ntheir dead R\u00e1j\u00e1 on their backs, and the dead antelope's wife went at\ntheir head; and King Burtal went too; and they carried it to the\nfak\u00edr, who was called Gorakn\u00e1th, and who was resting in the jungle,\nand they said to him, \"Bring our R\u00e1j\u00e1 to life again, for what can we\ndo without a R\u00e1j\u00e1? and he has left no son to succeed him.\" And the\nqueen antelope said, \"I have no other husband. I had only this one\nhusband. Do bring him to life for me.\" King Burtal laughed and mocked\nthem, and said to the fak\u00edr, \"I never heard of any man being able to\nbring a dead antelope to life. I don't believe you can do it.\" At this\nGorakn\u00e1th got angry, and he knelt down and asked God to bring the\nantelope to life; and God told him to take a wand and beat the dead\nantelope with it, and then the antelope would be alive again. So\nGorakn\u00e1th took a wand and beat the dead antelope, and it was alive\nonce more, and then it instantly sprang up into heaven. The antelopes\nwere delighted to see their R\u00e1j\u00e1 alive again, and they said, \"We do\nnot mind his going up to heaven, for he will come down again to us.\"\n\nKing Burtal had stood by all the time, and he said to Gorakn\u00e1th, \"Make\nme a fak\u00edr like yourself,\" for he thought it would be fine to do such\nwonderful things. But Gorakn\u00e1th would not, and King Burtal stayed in\nthe jungle with Gorakn\u00e1th for twelve years, and all that time he never\nceased begging and praying to be made a fak\u00edr, till at last Gorakn\u00e1th\nsaid, \"I cannot make you a fak\u00edr unless you go home and address your\nwives as 'Mamma,' and ask them to give you money and food.\" Now, it is\na very shameful thing to call one's wife 'Mamma,' for if a wife is\ncalled 'Mamma' she has to leave her husband. Then Gorakn\u00e1th took off\nthe king's clothes, and dressed him only in a cloth and a tiger's\nskin; and the king went to his palace and began begging for rice and\nfood, and he would not take any from the palace servants: he said he\nmust and would see the R\u00e1n\u00eds, and that they themselves should give him\nfood. The servants told the R\u00e1n\u00eds about this fak\u00edr who said he must\nand would see them himself, and that they should give him food and\nrice with their own hands, and one of their ayahs, who had recognized\nKing Burtal, told them the fak\u00edr was their husband who had been away\ntwelve years. The R\u00e1n\u00eds cried out, \"Do not talk nonsense. That fak\u00edr\ncan never be our husband.\" \"Go and see for yourselves,\" answered the\nayah. They went, and the fak\u00edr said to them, \"Mamma, give me rice.\"\n\"Why do you call us 'Mamma'?\" they said. \"We have no sons. You are not\nour son.\" But at last they saw he was indeed their husband, and they\nwrung their hands and wept bitterly, and threw themselves on the\nground before him and said, \"Why have you called us 'Mamma'? Why do\nyou ask for bread? We must now leave you.\" \"Don't go away,\" said the\nking. \"Take my kingdom, my money, my houses, and stay here till I\nreturn. I am going to be a fak\u00edr.\" His wives gave him some rice and\nsome money, and he went back to Gorakn\u00e1th.\n\nIn old days men who intended to become fak\u00edrs had to do three tasks\nset them by one who was already a fak\u00edr; so Gorakn\u00e1th said to the\nking, \"Now you must go to a jungle that I will show you, and stay\nthere for twelve years.\" Then King Burtal took the flat pan and the\nrolling-pin which he used in making his flour cakes, and was quite\nready to start for the jungle, but the fak\u00edr stopped him. \"You must\nleave your pan and your rolling-pin behind,\" he said; \"and all these\ntwelve years you must neither eat nor drink, or you can never be a\nfak\u00edr. You must sit quite still on the same spot and never move.\" \"I\nshall die if I don't eat,\" said the king; \"but I don't care if I do\ndie, so I will do all you tell me.\" Then the fak\u00edr took him to a\njungle, and made him sit down on the grass, and instantly all the\ngrass round him grew up so tall and thick that King Burtal was quite\nhidden by it, and no one could see him. Here he lived for twelve\nyears, and never moved, and he ate nothing, and drank nothing, and\nnobody knew he was there.\n\nAt the end of that time Gorakn\u00e1th came and took him away and said,\n\"Now go home to your wives.\" \"Why should I go to my wives? I do not\nwish to see my wives, for they have given me no children,\" said King\nBurtal. But Gorakn\u00e1th said, \"Go and see them.\" So King Burtal went;\nand he begged for rice from them; and they entreated him to stay with\nthem, but he would not. \"I will return to the fak\u00edr Gorakn\u00e1th,\" he\nsaid. \"Why should I stay with you? You have never given me a child.\nWhat use is all my wealth to me? I have no son to take it when I am\ndead. I will become a fak\u00edr.\" And they threw themselves on the ground\nand wrung their hands, and said, \"Oh, why will you leave us?\" He\nanswered, \"Because it pleases me to do so.\" And he called them all\n\"Mamma,\" and told them to stay in his palace and take all he possessed\nfor their own use. Then he returned to Gorakn\u00e1th.\n\n\"Now,\" said Gorakn\u00e1th, \"you must learn to be sweeper to all the beasts\nof the jungle, and you must serve them for twelve years.\" So for\ntwelve years King Burtal cleared the grass and kept the jungle clean\nfor all the creatures in it--cows, sheep, goats, tigers, cats, bears.\nSometimes he stayed in one part of the jungle, and sometimes in\nanother.\n\nWhen the twelve years were over he went to Gorakn\u00e1th, who said to him,\n\"Good; you have learnt to serve the wild beasts; now you must learn to\nserve men.\" Then the fak\u00edr took the king to a village, and bade him\nsweep it and keep it clean for twelve years. Here King Burtal stayed\nfor another twelve years, and all that time he was the village-sweeper\nand kept the village clean, and he swept all the dust and dirt into a\ngreat heap till the heap was as high and as big as a hut.\n\nWhen the twelve years were over he returned to Gorakn\u00e1th and stood\nbefore him, and as he stood there came a man who was an angel sent by\nGod, and he threw some dirt on King Burtal's head; but the king never\nmoved nor spoke. \"Now,\" cried Gorakn\u00e1th, \"I see you are a true fak\u00edr:\ngo and cleanse yourself by bathing in the river.\"\n\nThe river in which he was sent to bathe was the Jamn\u00e1. In this river\nlived water-nymphs, and the nymph Gang\u00e1 was playing in it when her\nsister Jamn\u00e1[3] came to her and said, \"Come quickly; our father is\ndying and wants to see you;\" and off Jamn\u00e1 went to her father. Gang\u00e1\nwas hurrying after her when King Burtal saw her, and stopped her, and\nasked her where she was going so fast. \"To my father, who is very ill\nand dying,\" said Gang\u00e1; \"let me go.\" \"I will not let you go,\" said\nKing Burtal. Then Gang\u00e1 began to run, and said, \"You cannot keep me,\nyou cannot catch me; no man can catch me, no man can keep me.\" This\nprovoked King Burtal, and he said, \"I can catch you, and I can keep\nyou.\" \"No, no,\" she answered; \"no one can catch me, no one can hold\nme.\" Then King Burtal got quite vexed, and he ran till he caught her,\nand then he said, \"Now, I will not let you go; I will keep you.\" Then\nhe held her in his hands and rubbed her between his palms, and when he\nopened his hands she had turned into a little round ball. He tried to\nhide the ball in his hair, but could not, for his hair was too short,\nand he found he could not hold Gang\u00e1, as she was too strong for him;\nso he thought he would take her to Mah\u00e1deo,[4] who had long thick\nhair, and make him keep her, for King Burtal was dreadfully frightened\nand did not dare let the ball go, for fear Gang\u00e1, who he knew was very\nangry, should take her own form and bring a great flood to drown him.\nSo he went quickly to Mah\u00e1deo, and gave the ball to him. Mah\u00e1deo said,\n\"Why not keep her yourself?\" \"I cannot,\" said King Burtal, \"for my\nhair is too short to tie her into; and I cannot hold her, for she is\ntoo strong for me; but your hair is long, and so you can hide her in\nit.\" Then Mah\u00e1deo had a round box made of bamboo, and in this box was\na hole into which he dropped the ball. And he let down his long hair,\nand it reached to the ground, and was thick--so thick; he put the box\nin his hair on the top of his head, and rolled his long hair all round\nhis head and over the box just like a turban.\n\nJamn\u00e1 finding her sister did not follow her, came up from the bottom\nof the river to look for her, and she asked whether any one had seen\nher, and at last some one said, \"King Burtal has taken her away.\"\nJamn\u00e1 set off to King Burtal and said, \"Give me my sister Gang\u00e1, for\nour father is dying and wants to see her.\" \"It is true that I took her\naway,\" said King Burtal, \"but I have not got her now; she is with\nMah\u00e1deo.\" So Jamn\u00e1 went to Mah\u00e1deo,--\"Give me my sister quickly, for\nour father is dying and wants to see her.\" (Now Gang\u00e1 was in a great\npassion inside her box.) \"I cannot give you Gang\u00e1,\" said Mah\u00e1deo, \"for\nshe is so angry that if I let her loose she will flood the country\nwith water.\" \"No, she will not; indeed, she will not,\" said Jamn\u00e1. \"If\nI give her to you, you will not be able to keep her,\" said Mah\u00e1deo.\n\"Yes, yes, I shall,\" said Jamn\u00e1. \"I do not think you will,\" said\nMah\u00e1deo; \"but here is the box in which said is. Hold it tight, and be\ncareful that neither you nor any one else mentions her name on the\njourney.\" Jamn\u00e1 said she would be very careful, and took the box; but\nshe had to pass through a jungle in which were a number of cowherds\nand holy men, one of whom was called Gang\u00e1. Just as Jamn\u00e1 passed by,\none of these men called to this man by his name, Gang\u00e1, and instantly\nGang\u00e1 burst the box and flooded the country with water. The holy men\nand the cowherd called to her to have pity on them, and so did Jamn\u00e1;\nbut Gang\u00e1 was too angry to listen to them or speak to them, so she\ndrowned all the holy men and the cowherds, and when she got to her\nfather's house and found he was dead, she was in such a rage that she\ndeclared she would send a still greater flood to ruin the country; and\nso she did.\n\nAfter this, King Burtal went to Gorakn\u00e1th and stayed with him some\nyears, till Gorakn\u00e1th said, \"Now go to your own kingdom.\" But King\nBurtal refused, saying, \"I wish to stay with you; my wives have never\ngiven me a child. I have no son. I do not care to return to my\nkingdom.\" However, Gorakn\u00e1th would not allow him to stay. \"Go to your\nown kingdom,\" he said again; \"but first tell me how many wives you\nhave.\" \"A hundred and sixty,\" answered the King. \"Here are a hundred\nand sixty l\u00edch\u00ed fruits for you,\" said the fak\u00edr. \"Give one to each of\nyour wives to eat, and they will each have a son, and I will go with\nyou.\" So King Burtal obeyed, and Gorakn\u00e1th went with him.\n\nSeventy years had passed since King Burtal had left his kingdom. When\nhe and Gorakn\u00e1th reached it, they went to an open plain and made a\nfire and sat down beside it. Everybody who passed them said, \"Who are\nthese fak\u00edrs?\" Some servants of King Burtal's R\u00e1n\u00eds passed too, and\nwhen they got home they told the R\u00e1n\u00eds that their husband had returned\nto his kingdom. But the R\u00e1n\u00eds said, \"What nonsense you talk! King\nBurtal went away with the fak\u00edr Gorakn\u00e1th.\" The servants answered, \"We\nare quite sure that King Burtal is here, for Gorakn\u00e1th is here, and\nwith him is another man, and we are sure this man is King Burtal.\" So\nall the R\u00e1n\u00eds went to see for themselves, and when they saw the fak\u00edr\nthat was with Gorakn\u00e1th they knew he was their husband. Then the first\nR\u00e1n\u00ed, who was very angry with him for having left them, said a spell\nover him: \"God is very angry with you for leaving us, and he will send\nyou a bad illness.\" But King Burtal answered, \"Do not be angry with\nme. I am your husband, and have come back to you after an absence of\nseventy years.\" At this the youngest R\u00e1n\u00ed was very glad, and she\nordered drums to be beaten and she beat a drum herself, and they sang\nsongs, and all went to the palace together, and Gorakn\u00e1th with them.\n\nThen Gorakn\u00e1th said he must now go away, but first he asked King\nBurtal to show him a grand feat as a proof of his skill. So King\nBurtal sent to the smith for a great iron chain. Then he lit a big\nfire. This alarmed the palace servants, who wondered if he were going\nto burn his palace and his wives. King Burtal next sent for some ghee.\n\"What is he going to do with the ghee?\" said the palace servants. Then\nhe drove a nail into the wall, rubbed his hands with the ghee, put the\niron chain into the fire and drew it out red-hot; flames came from the\niron. Then King Burtal hung it on the nail and pulled and pulled at\nthe chain till he drew it off the nail, and his hands were not in the\nleast burnt. The R\u00e1n\u00eds and palace servants were greatly astonished and\nGorakn\u00e1th much pleased. \"You know how to do your work well,\" said he\nto the king. Then Gorakn\u00e1th bade him good bye, telling him to look\nafter his kingdom and his wives; but they all said he must not leave\nthem, and they built him a grand house in the compound, and gave him a\ngreat many servants to wait on him, and plenty of money; so Gorakn\u00e1th\nagreed to live in this house; only, as he was a fak\u00edr, he often went\naway by himself to spend some time in his jungle, always returning to\nhis house in King Burtal's compound. Meanwhile King Burtal gave each\nof his wives a l\u00edch\u00ed to eat, and after a little while each wife had a\nlittle son. They were all such beautiful children; but the biggest and\nhandsomest of all was the eldest R\u00e1n\u00ed's little son. His name was\nSaz\u00e1d\u00e1, and his father and mother loved him dearly.\n\nWhen Prince Saz\u00e1d\u00e1 was about six or seven years old, the fak\u00edr\nGorakn\u00e1th came to King Burtal and said, \"Now you must give me your\nson Saz\u00e1d\u00e1, for I want to take him away with me for some years.\" The\nR\u00e1n\u00ed, his mother, refused to let him go, but at last she had to do so,\nand then she became mad and very sick for grief.\n\nGorakn\u00e1th took the little prince to Indr\u00e1san to be taught by the\nfairies, and on arriving he married him to Jah\u00far R\u00e1n\u00ed, who was the\ndaughter of the greatest of the fairy queens. Gorakn\u00e1th made a grand\nwedding for the little prince, and all the fairies were delighted that\nhe should be the little Jah\u00far R\u00e1n\u00ed's husband, for he was such a\nbeautiful child they all fell in love with him the moment they saw\nhim, and they taught him to play on all kinds of instruments, and to\nsing beautifully, and to read and write, and he grew handsomer and\nhandsomer every day in the fairy kingdom. Gorakn\u00e1th came often to see\nhim, and the fairies took great care of him.\n\nWhen Prince Saz\u00e1d\u00e1 had grown a fine strong young man, Gorakn\u00e1th took\nhim and his wife, the Jah\u00far R\u00e1n\u00ed, and brought them in great state to\nKing Burtal's kingdom. First he took the young prince and presented\nhim to his father and said, \"See, here is your son. Now he can read\nand write, sing and play on all kinds of instruments, for I have had\nhim taught all these things.\" But they, when they saw him, fell on\ntheir faces, for they could not look at him on account of his great\nbeauty. He had grown so handsome in Indr\u00e1san, and his cheeks were red.\n\"How can this beautiful boy be our son?\" they said, and they did not\nrecognize him. \"Stand up,\" said Gorakn\u00e1th. \"This is your son Saz\u00e1d\u00e1;\ndo not fall down before your son.\" So they stood up, and the fak\u00edr\nsaid, \"I have married your son to the fairy princess Jah\u00far R\u00e1n\u00ed, and I\nwill bring her to you.\" So then he brought the little R\u00e1n\u00ed, and when\nthey saw her they fell down again, for they could not look at her\nbeauty. Her hair was like red gold, her eyes were dark, and her\neyelashes black. But Gorakn\u00e1th made them stand up; and when they\nreally understood it was their son and his wife that he had brought\nthem, they took Prince Saz\u00e1d\u00e1 into their arms, and kissed him and\nloved him, and his R\u00e1n\u00ed too. Gorakn\u00e1th made a grand wedding-feast for\nthem all, and they were all very happy.\n\n Told by Dunkn\u00ed.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n [3] Yamun\u00e1.\n\n [4] Mahadeva, _i.e._ Siva.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXVI.\n\nSOME OF THE DOINGS OF SHEKH FAR\u00cdD.\n\n\nOnce there was a R\u00e1j\u00e1 called H\u00e1m\u00e1ns\u00e1 R\u00e1j\u00e1. He had a son, named Gursan\nR\u00e1j\u00e1, who married Khel\u00e1par\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed, the daughter of Gul\u00e1bs\u00e1 R\u00e1j\u00e1. After\nthe wedding Gursan R\u00e1j\u00e1 brought her home to his father's house.\n\nOne day Gursan R\u00e1j\u00e1 came home from hunting, very very tired and\nthirsty. It was about twelve or one o'clock in the day. He asked\nKhel\u00e1par\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed to fetch him some water, and while she went for it he\nfell asleep. When she came back she found him still sleeping, and\nbecause he was so tired he slept all the afternoon and all night, and\nnever woke till the next morning. His wife stood by him all the time\nholding the water in a brass cup. When he woke and found she had stood\nthere all the afternoon and all night he was very sorry, and asked God\nto forgive him, and to give his wife whatever she wished for, no\nmatter what it might be. So Khel\u00e1par\u00ed wished that whatever happened in\nany country, she might know of it at once of herself without any one\ntelling her, no matter how far away the country might be.\n\nOne day Khel\u00e1par\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed went to draw water from the tank, and by the\ntank sat an old man, the fak\u00edr Shekh Far\u00edd. He said to the R\u00e1n\u00ed, \"Give\nme a little water to drink.\" \"I will,\" she said, \"only drink it\nquickly, for my father's house is on fire, and I am going to put it\nout.\" \"How far off is your father's country?\" asked Shekh Far\u00edd.\n\"About twenty miles,\" answered Khel\u00e1par\u00ed. \"Then how can you know his\nhouse is on fire!\" said Shekh Far\u00edd; \"I have been a fak\u00edr for twelve\nyears, and for twelve years neither ate nor drank, and yet I do not\nknow what happens twenty miles away.\" \"But I know,\" she answered.\n\"Leave your water-jar here,\" he said, \"and go and see if the house\nreally is on fire, and I will not drink till you return to me.\"\n\nSo off went Khel\u00e1par\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed to her father's country, and when she got\nthere his house was burning, and she stayed till the fire was put out,\nand then returned to the tank where she left the fak\u00edr. \"Is it true,\"\nhe asked, \"that your father's house was on fire?\" \"Quite true,\" she\nanswered. The fak\u00edr wondered. \"How could she know it when the fire was\ntwenty miles off?\" he said to himself, and he determined to go to\nGul\u00e1bs\u00e1 R\u00e1j\u00e1's country to see if the R\u00e1n\u00ed had told him the truth.\n\nHe went by a roundabout road, as he did not know the way, so it took\nhim three or four days to get there. When he did, he asked some\nvillagers if there had been a fire at their R\u00e1j\u00e1's house. \"Yes, a few\ndays ago there was,\" they answered. So the fak\u00edr, still more\nastonished, decided he would go back to H\u00e1m\u00e1ns\u00e1 R\u00e1j\u00e1's palace and ask\nKhel\u00e1par\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed how it came to pass that she was wiser than Shekh\nFar\u00edd.\n\nAs he was returning, he met a bullock-cart laden with bags of sugar,\nand he asked the driver what the bags contained. The driver was put\nout because his bullocks would not go on quickly, and he was tired\nwith beating and goading them, so he said crossly, \"It's ashes.\"\n\"Good,\" said Shekh Far\u00edd, \"let it be ashes.\" When the cartman got to\nthe bazar, and went to make over the sugar to the merchant who had\nsent him for it, he found all his bags full of ashes, nothing but\nashes. He was in a great state of mind, for a good deal of money had\nbeen paid for the sugar, and he was a poor man. So he went back to\nShekh Far\u00edd and fell down at his feet, saying, \"I am a poor, poor\nman. My sugar is turned to ashes. Do make the ashes sugar again.\"\n\"Good,\" said the fak\u00edr; \"go home, and you will find sugar, and next\ntime you are asked what you have in your cart, tell the truth and not\nlies.\" The cartman went home, and when he saw his sugar was sugar once\nmore, and no longer ashes, he was very, very glad.\n\nOne of his brother-villagers thought, \"How pleasant it would be to\nbecome a fak\u00edr and do such things myself! I will go to this fak\u00edr and\nlearn from him to be a fak\u00edr too.\" So he went after Shekh Far\u00edd and\nfound him walking along the road, and he followed him. Now Shekh Far\u00edd\nknew at once what this man wanted, so as they passed a heap of clay\nbricks, he said, \"O God, let it be thy pleasure to give me power to\nturn these clay bricks into gold.\" Instantly they became gold, and\nShekh Far\u00edd walked on; but the villager took up two of the bricks and\nput one under each arm, and then followed the fak\u00edr. Suddenly Shekh\nFar\u00edd turned round, and said to him, \"You have two clay bricks under\nyour arms.\" The man looked, saw it was true, and threw them away. Then\nShekh Far\u00edd said to him, \"You steal bricks, and yet wish to be a\nfak\u00edr?\" The man was ashamed, and went back to his village.\n\nShekh Far\u00edd continued his journey and got to H\u00e1m\u00e1ns\u00e1 R\u00e1j\u00e1's country;\nbut when he got there he found Khel\u00e1par\u00ed had gone to another country\nfor a little while, so he never saw her, nor found out how it was that\nshe knew what happened twenty miles off.\n\nIn a jungle in H\u00e1m\u00e1ns\u00e1 R\u00e1j\u00e1's country he met a man, called\nFak\u00edr-achand, and his wife, who were very poor. They were going to\nbury their only son, and were crying bitterly. Shekh Far\u00edd asked them,\n\"Would you like your son to be alive again?\" \"Yes,\" they said. \"Will\nyou give him to me, and I will bring him to life, and then he shall\nreturn to you?\" said Shekh Far\u00edd. \"Yes,\" they answered, and gave him\ntheir dead son, and went to their home.\n\nThe fak\u00edr carried the dead boy, who was called Mohand\u00e1s, a little\nfurther on, and then laid him on the ground, and struck him with a\nlong thin bamboo wand he carried in his hand. The boy stood up. Shekh\nFar\u00edd asked him, \"Would you like to go home to your father and mother,\nor to stay with me?\" \"To stay with you,\" said Mohand\u00e1s. (Had he wished\nto go home, the fak\u00edr would have been very angry.) \"Then,\" said Shekh\nFar\u00edd, \"I will call your mother here.\" He did so, and when she came,\nhe said to her, \"See, here is your son alive. Will you give him to me\nfor twelve years?\" The woman said, \"Yes,\" and went home. The fak\u00edr\ngave her and her husband a quantity of rupees and built them a\nbeautiful house. Then he and Mohand\u00e1s set out on their travels, and\nwandered about the jungles for one whole year, till they came to a\ncountry full of large splendid gardens belonging to a very rich R\u00e1j\u00e1,\ncalled Dumk\u00e1s R\u00e1j\u00e1.\n\nThis R\u00e1j\u00e1 had a beautiful daughter, Champ\u00e1k\u00e1l\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed. She had lovely\ngolden hair, golden eyebrows, golden eyelashes, blue eyes, and her\nskin was transparent. In Dumk\u00e1s R\u00e1j\u00e1's country they had never seen a\nfak\u00edr, so when Shekh Far\u00edd and Mohand\u00e1s arrived, the R\u00e1j\u00e1 sent to\nthem, and asked Shekh Far\u00edd to come to talk to him. \"No,\" said the\nfak\u00edr, \"I will not go to the R\u00e1j\u00e1: if the R\u00e1j\u00e1 wants me, he must come\nto me.\"\n\nDumk\u00e1s R\u00e1j\u00e1 was very angry when his messengers returned with this\nanswer, and he ordered Shekh Far\u00edd to leave his country immediately;\nbut the fak\u00edr said he would not go until he had married his adopted\nson, Mohand\u00e1s, to Champ\u00e1k\u00e1l\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed. The people all laughed at him for\nsaying this, and declared such a marriage would never take place.\nHowever, the fak\u00edr and Mohand\u00e1s walked about and saw the town, and\nlooked at everything, and everybody stared at them. Then they went to\nlive on the border of Dumk\u00e1s R\u00e1j\u00e1's country, and lived there for some\ntime.\n\nOne day Shekh Far\u00edd bought Mohand\u00e1s a beautiful horse and fine clothes\nsuch as R\u00e1j\u00e1s wear, and told the boy to ride about the fields and high\nroads. He also told him not to speak to any one unless they spoke to\nhim. Mohand\u00e1s promised to do as he was bid. As he was riding along, he\nmet the Princess Champ\u00e1k\u00e1l\u00ed, who was also riding. She asked him who he\nwas. \"A R\u00e1j\u00e1's son,\" he said. \"What R\u00e1j\u00e1?\" asked Champ\u00e1k\u00e1l\u00ed. \"Never\nmind what R\u00e1j\u00e1,\" said Mohand\u00e1s. The princess then went home, and so\ndid Mohand\u00e1s; but every day after this they met and talked together,\nand the princess fell very much in love with Mohand\u00e1s.\n\nAt last she said to her father, \"I wish to marry a young man who rides\nabout on the border-land every day, and is very handsome.\" The R\u00e1j\u00e1\nconsented, for it was time his daughter was married, and now no R\u00e1j\u00e1\nfrom another country would come to marry her, as the demons who\nguarded the princess swallowed all her suitors at one gulp, and had\nalready swallowed many R\u00e1j\u00e1s who had come on this errand.\n\nShekh Far\u00edd said to Mohand\u00e1s, \"Now go up to the palace, and claim the\nprincess for your wife.\" \"If I do,\" said Mohand\u00e1s, \"the demons will\nswallow me.\" \"I will not let them swallow you,\" said Shekh Far\u00edd. So\nMohand\u00e1s consented and set off for the palace, Shekh Far\u00edd following\nhim. When Mohand\u00e1s came to the demons, they were going to swallow him;\nbut the fak\u00edr, who had his sword in his hand, killed them all, and as\nhe did so, the R\u00e1j\u00e1s and princes who had come as suitors to the\nPrincess Champ\u00e1k\u00e1l\u00ed, and had therefore been swallowed by the demons,\nall came jumping out of the demons' stomachs and ran off in all\ndirections as hard as they could, from fear not knowing where they\nwent.\n\nMohand\u00e1s was greatly frightened at all this; but Shekh Far\u00edd explained\neverything to him, so he went on to the palace, and the fak\u00edr went\ntoo. There Mohand\u00e1s asked Dumk\u00e1s R\u00e1j\u00e1 to give him his daughter as his\nwife, and the R\u00e1j\u00e1 consented. So he was married to Champ\u00e1k\u00e1l\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed,\nand her father gave them a great many elephants, and horses, and\ncamels, and a great deal of money and many jewels. And Mohand\u00e1s and\nhis wife set off with the fak\u00edr to his father Fak\u00edr-achand's house,\nand they took all the elephants, camels, horses, money and jewels with\nthem. On the way Mohand\u00e1s told Champ\u00e1k\u00e1l\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed that he was not a great\nR\u00e1j\u00e1's son, but the son of poor people. Champ\u00e1k\u00e1l\u00ed's heart was very\nsad at this; however, she was not angry, only sorry.\n\nWhen they reached H\u00e1m\u00e1ns\u00e1 R\u00e1j\u00e1's country, and had come to\nFak\u00edr-achand's house, the fak\u00edr said to Mohand\u00e1s's mother, \"See, you\nlent me one child, and I have brought you back two children. Does this\nplease you?\" \"Indeed it does please me,\" she answered; \"I am very\nhappy.\"\n\nThey built a beautiful palace and all lived in it together. The mother\nbegged Shekh Far\u00edd to stay with them, saying, \"Only stay with us; I\nwill give you a bungalow, and you shall have everything you want.\" But\nShekh Far\u00edd said, \"I am a fak\u00edr, and so cannot stay with you, as I may\nnever stay in one place, and must, instead, wander from country to\ncountry and from jungle to jungle.\" So he said good-bye to them and\nwent on his wanderings, and never returned to them.\n\nMohand\u00e1s, his wife, and his father and mother, all lived happily\ntogether.\n\n Told by Dunkn\u00ed.\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXVII.\n\nTHE MOUSE.\n\n\nThere was a mouse who wanted something to eat; so he went to a garden,\nwhere many kinds of grain, and fruit, and cabbages, and other\nvegetables were growing. All round the garden the people to whom it\nbelonged had planted a hedge of thorns, that nothing might get in. The\nmouse scrambled through the hedge, but great thorns pierced his tail,\nand he began to cry. He came out of the garden again through the\nhedge, and on his way home he met a barber.\n\n\"You must take out these thorns,\" said he to the barber.\n\n\"I cannot,\" said the barber, \"without cutting off your tail with my\nrazor.\"\n\n\"Never mind cutting off my tail,\" said the mouse.\n\nThe barber cut off the mouse's tail. But the mouse was in a rage. He\nseized the razor and ran away with it. At this the poor barber was\nvery unhappy and began to cry, for he had no pice wherewith to buy\nanother.\n\nThe mouse ran on and on until at last he came to another country, in\nwhich there were no knives or sickles to cut the grass with. There the\nmouse saw a man pulling the grass out of the ground with his hands.\n\n\"You will cut your hands,\" said the mouse.\n\n\"There are no knives here,\" said the man, \"so I must pull up the grass\nin this way.\"\n\n\"You must take my razor then,\" said the mouse.\n\n\"Suppose your razor should break? I could not buy you another,\" said\nthe man.\n\n\"Never mind if it does break,\" said the mouse, \"I give it to you as a\npresent.\"\n\nSo the man took the razor and began cutting the grass, and as he was\ncutting, the razor broke.\n\n\"Oh, why have you broken my razor?\" exclaimed the mouse.\n\n\"Did not I tell you it would break?\" answered the man.\n\nThe mouse snatched up the man's blanket and ran off with it. The\ngrass-cutter began to cry. \"What shall I do?\" said he. \"The mouse has\ncarried away my blanket, and I have not money wherewith to buy\nanother.\" And he went home very sad.\n\nMeanwhile the mouse ran on and on until he arrived at another country,\nwhere he saw a grain merchant chopping up sugar-canes; only as he had\nno blanket or cloth to lay the canes on, he chopped them up on the\nground, and so they got dirty.\n\n\"Why do you chop up your canes on the ground?\" said the mouse; \"they\nall get dirty.\"\n\n\"What can I do?\" answered the man. \"I have no pice wherewith to buy a\nblanket to chop them on.\"\n\n\"Then why don't you take mine?\" said the mouse.\n\n\"If I took yours it would get cut, and I have no money to buy you\nanother,\" said the grain merchant.\n\n\"Never mind; I don't want another,\" said the mouse.\n\nSo the man took the blanket, and of course he cut it. When he had\nfinished chopping up his sugar-canes, he gave it back to the mouse.\n\nWhen the mouse saw the blanket was full of holes, he was very angry\nindeed with the man, and seizing all the sugar-canes he ran away with\nthem as fast as he could. The grain merchant began to cry. \"What shall\nI do?\" said he; \"I have no more sugar-canes.\" And he went home very\nsorrowful.\n\nThen the mouse ran on and on till he came to another country, where he\nstopped at a sweetmeat-seller's shop. Now in this country there was no\nsalt and no sugar. And the sweetmeat-seller made his sweetmeats of\nflour and ghee without either sugar or salt, so that they were very\nnasty.\n\n\"Will you give me some sweetmeats for a pice?\" said the mouse to the\nsweetmeat-seller. \"Yes,\" answered the man, and he gave one. The mouse\nbegan to eat it and thought it very nasty indeed.\n\n\"Why, there is no sugar in it!\" exclaimed the mouse.\n\n\"No,\" said the man; \"we have no sugar in this country. The few\nsugar-canes we have are so dear, that poor people like myself cannot\nbuy them.\"\n\n\"Then take my sugar-canes,\" cried the mouse.\n\n\"No,\" said the man. \"Where should I find the money to pay you for\nthem? They would be all used in making sweetmeats.\"\n\n\"Take them,\" said the mouse; \"I give them to you.\"\n\nThe sweetmeat-seller took them and began making sweetmeats of all\nkinds, so that he used all the sugar-canes.\n\n\"Why have you used all my sugar-canes?\" cried the mouse.\n\n\"Did not I tell you I should do so?\" said the man.\n\n\"You are a thief!\" cried the mouse, and he knocked down the\nsweetmeat-seller, seized all his sweetmeats, and ran off with them.\n\n\"What shall I do now?\" cried the sweetmeat-seller. \"I have no money to\nbuy flour and ghee to make more sweetmeats with; and if I quarrel with\nthe mouse, he will doubtless kill me.\"\n\nMeanwhile the mouse ran on and on till he reached a country, the R\u00e1j\u00e1\nof which had a great many cows--hundreds of cows. The mouse stopped at\nthe pasture-ground of these cows. Now, the cowherds were so poor they\ncould not buy bread every day, and sometimes they ate bread which was\ntwelve days old. When the mouse arrived, the cowherds were eating\ntheir bread, and it was very stale and mouldy.\n\n\"Why do you eat that stale bread?\" said the mouse.\n\n\"Because we have no money to buy any other with,\" answered the\ncowherds.\n\n\"Look at all these sweetmeats,\" said the mouse. \"Take them and eat\nthem instead of that stale bread.\"\n\n\"But if we eat them, we must pay you for them, and where shall we get\nthe money?\" said the cowherds.\n\n\"Oh, never mind the money,\" said the mouse.\n\nSo the cowherds took the sweetmeats and ate them all up. At this the\nmouse was furious. He stuck a pole into the ground, and ran and\nfetched ropes, and tied the cowherds hand and foot to the pole. Then\nhe took all the cows and ran off with them.\n\nHe ran on and on till he got to a country where there were no fowls,\nno cows, no buffaloes, no meat of any kind; and the people in it did\nnot even know what milk and meat were. The day the mouse arrived was\nthe day the R\u00e1j\u00e1's daughter was to be married, and a great many people\nwere assembled together. The R\u00e1j\u00e1's cooks were cooking, but they had\nneither meat nor ghee.\n\n\"Why are all these people assembled together?\" said the mouse.\n\n\"To-day is our R\u00e1j\u00e1's daughter's wedding-day, and we are cooking the\ndinner,\" answered the cooks.\n\n\"But you have no meat,\" said the mouse.\n\n\"No,\" said the cooks. \"There is no meat of any kind in our country.\"\n\n\"Take my cows,\" said the mouse.\n\n\"No,\" said the cooks; \"our R\u00e1j\u00e1 could not pay for them; he is too\npoor.\" (He was only a petty R\u00e1j\u00e1.)\n\n\"It does not matter,\" said the mouse. \"I don't want money.\"\n\nSo the cooks took the cows and the sheep and killed them, and dressed\ntheir flesh in different ways; made pilaus and curries; they roasted\nsome and boiled some, and gave it to the people to eat. In this way\nthey made an end of all the cows.\n\n\"Why have you made an end of all my cows?\" cried the mouse.\n\n\"Did not we tell you we should make use of them all?\" said the cooks.\n\n\"Give me my cows,\" said the mouse.\n\n\"We can't. The people have eaten them all up,\" said the cooks.\n\nThe mouse was in a great rage. He ran off to the bridegroom, who was\nwalking near the kitchen, saying to himself, \"Now I will go and fetch\nmy bride.\"\n\n\"Give me the money for my cows,\" cried the mouse to him. \"Your people\nhave eaten them all up, and your cooks won't pay me, so you must.\"\n\n\"What have I to do with your cows?\" said the bridegroom. \"I won't pay\nyou for them.\"\n\n\"Then if you won't pay me, your wife's father must,\" said the mouse.\n\n\"Oh, _he_ is too poor to pay for your cows,\" said the bridegroom, \"and\nI won't.\"\n\n\"Then if I am not paid, I will take away your bride,\" said the mouse;\nand he ran off and carried away the bride.\n\nThe R\u00e1j\u00e1 was very angry at this; but the mouse ran on and on with his\nwife (so he called the R\u00e1j\u00e1's daughter) till he came to another\ncountry.\n\nNow, on the day he arrived in it there were going to be grand sights\nand fun to please its R\u00e1j\u00e1. Some jugglers and rope-dancers were going\nto perform.\n\n\"Take my wife and let her walk on the rope; she is young, and your\nwives are old,\" said the mouse to the rope-dancers.\n\n\"No,\" they answered, \"for she does not know how to walk on a rope and\ncarry at the same time a wooden plate on her head. She would fall and\nbreak her neck.\"\n\n\"But you must take my wife,\" said the mouse. \"She won't fall; she is\nyoung, and your wives are old. You really must take her.\"\n\nSo the rope-dancers took her, much against their will, and when she\nbegan to walk on the rope with the wooden plate on her head, she fell\nand died.\n\n\"Oh, why have you killed my wife?\" cried the mouse.\n\n\"Did we not tell you she would fall and kill herself?\" answered the\nrope-dancers.\n\nThe mouse seized all the jugglers' and rope-dancers' wives, and the\nthings they used in dancing and juggling, and ran off with them. Then\nthe rope-dancers and jugglers began to cry, and said, \"What shall we\ndo? Our wives and our property are all gone!\"\n\nMeanwhile the mouse ran on and on until he came to another country,\nwhere he got a house to live in. And he ate a great deal, and grew so\nfat that he could not get through the door of his house.\n\n\"Send for a carpenter,\" said he to the rope-dancers' and jugglers'\nwives, \"and tell him to cut off some of my flesh. Then I shall be able\nto get into my house.\"\n\nThe women sent for a carpenter, and when he came the mouse said to\nhim, \"cut off some of my flesh, then I shall be able to go into my\nhouse.\"\n\n\"If I do,\" said the carpenter, \"you will die.\"\n\n\"No, I shan't die,\" said the mouse. \"Do as I bid you.\"\n\nSo the carpenter took his knife, and cut off some of the mouse's\nflesh.\n\n\"Oh, dear! oh, dear!\" cried the mouse; \"how it does hurt! What can I\ndo to make it stop paining me?\"\n\n\"You must go to a certain place, where a particular kind of grain\ngrows, and rub the grain on your wounds. Then they will get quite\nwell,\" said the carpenter.\n\nSo the mouse ran off to the place to which the carpenter had told him\nto go, and rubbed his wounds with the grain. This gave him such pain\nthat he fell down and died.\n\nThe rope-dancers' and jugglers' wives went home to their husbands with\nall the things the mouse had carried away, and they all lived happily\never after.\n\n Told by Kar\u00edm.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXVIII.\n\nA WONDERFUL STORY.\n\n\nOnce there lived two wrestlers, who were both very very strong. The\nstronger of the two had a daughter called Aj\u00edt; the other had no\ndaughter at all. These wrestlers did not live in the same country, but\ntheir two villages were not far apart.\n\nOne day the wrestler that had no daughter heard of the wrestler that\nhad a daughter, and he determined to go and find him and wrestle with\nhim, to see who was the stronger. He went therefore to Aj\u00edt's father's\ncountry, and when he arrived at his house, he knocked at the door and\nsaid, \"Is any one here?\" Aj\u00edt answered, \"Yes, I am here;\" and she came\nout. \"Where is the wrestler who lives in this house?\" he asked. \"My\nfather,\" answered Aj\u00edt, \"has taken three hundred carts to the jungle,\nand he is drawing them himself, as he could not get enough bullocks\nand horses to pull them along. He is gone to get wood.\" This\nastonished the wrestler very much. \"Your father must indeed be very\nstrong,\" he said.\n\nThen he set off to the jungle, and in the jungle he found two dead\nelephants. He tied them to the two ends of a pole, took the pole on\nhis shoulder, and returned to Aj\u00edt's house. There he knocked at the\ndoor, crying, \"Is any one here?\" \"Yes, I am here,\" said Aj\u00edt. \"Has\nyour father come back?\" asked the wrestler. \"Not yet,\" said Aj\u00edt, who\nwas busy sweeping the room. Now, her father had twelve elephants.\nEleven were in the stables, but one was lying dead in the room Aj\u00edt\nwas sweeping; and as she swept, she swept the dead elephant without\nany trouble out of the door. This frightened the wrestler. \"What a\nstrong girl this is!\" he said to himself. When Aj\u00edt had swept all the\ndust out of the room, she came and gathered it and the dead elephant\nup, and threw dust and elephant away. The wrestler was more and more\nastonished.\n\nHe set off again to find Aj\u00edt's father, and met him pulling the three\nhundred carts along. At this he was still more alarmed, but he said to\nhim, \"Will you wrestle with me now?\" \"No,\" said Aj\u00edt's father, \"I\nwon't; for here there is no one to see us.\" The other again begged him\nto wrestle at once, and at that moment an old woman bent with age came\nby. She was carrying bread to her son, who had taken his mother's\nthree or four thousand camels to browse.\n\nThe first wrestler called to her at once, \"Come and see us wrestle.\"\n\"No,\" said the old woman, \"for I must take my son his dinner. He is\nvery hungry.\" \"No, no; you must stay and see us wrestle,\" cried both\nthe wrestlers. \"I cannot stay,\" she said; \"but do one of you stand on\none of my hands, and the other on the other, and then you can wrestle\nas we go along.\" \"You carry us!\" cried the men. \"You are so old, you\nwill never be able to carry us.\" \"Indeed I shall,\" said the old woman.\nSo they got up on her hands, and she rested her hands, with the\nwrestlers standing on them, on her shoulders; and her son's\nflour-cakes she put on her head. Thus they went on their way, and the\nmen wrestled as they went.\n\nNow the old woman had told her son that if he did not do his work\nwell, she would bring men to kill him; so he was dreadfully frightened\nwhen he saw his mother coming with the wrestlers. \"Here is my mother\ncoming to kill me,\" he said: and he tied up the three or four\nthousand camels in his cloth, put them all on his head, and ran off\nwith them as fast as he could. \"Stop, stop!\" cried his mother, when\nshe saw him running away. But he only ran on still faster, and the old\nwoman and the wrestlers ran after him.\n\nJust then a kite was flying about, and the kite said to itself, \"There\nmust be some meat in that man's cloth,\" so it swept down and carried\noff the bundle of camels. The old woman's son at this sat down and\ncried.\n\nThe wrestlers soon came up to him and said, \"What are you crying for?\"\n\"Oh,\" answered the boy, \"my mother said that if I did not do my work,\nshe would bring men to kill me. So, when I saw you coming with her, I\ntied all the camels up in my cloth, put them on my head, and ran off.\nA kite came down and carried them all away. That is why I am crying.\"\nThe wrestlers were much astonished at the boy's strength and at the\nkite's strength, and they all three set off in the direction in which\nthe kite had flown.\n\nMeanwhile the kite had flown on and on till it had reached another\ncountry, and the daughter of the R\u00e1j\u00e1 of this country was sitting on\nthe roof of the palace, combing her long black hair. The princess\nlooked up at the kite and the bundle, and said, \"There must be meat in\nthat bundle.\" At that moment the kite let the bundle of camels fall,\nand it fell into the princess's eye, and went deep into it; but her\neye was so large that it did not hurt her much. \"Oh, mother! mother!\"\nshe cried, \"something has fallen into my eye! come and take it out.\"\nHer mother rushed up, took the bundle of camels out of the princess's\neye, and shoved the bundle into her pocket.\n\nThe wrestlers and the old woman's son now came up, having seen all\nthat had happened. \"Where is the bundle of camels?\" said they, \"and\nwhy do you cry?\" they asked the princess. \"Oh,\" said her mother, \"she\nis crying because something fell into her eye.\" \"It was the bundle of\ncamels that fell into her eye, and the bundle is in your pocket,\" said\nthe old woman's son to the R\u00e1n\u00ed: and he put his hand into her pocket\nand pulled out the bundle. Then he and the wrestlers went back to\nAj\u00edt's father's house, and on the way they met his old mother, who\nwent with them.\n\nThey invited a great many people to dinner, and Aj\u00edt took a large\nquantity of flour and made it into flat cakes. Then she handed a cake\nto the wrestler who had come to see her father, and gave one to\neverybody else. \"I can't eat such a big cake as this,\" said the\nwrestler. \"Can't you?\" said Aj\u00edt. \"I can't indeed,\" he answered; \"it\nis much too big.\" \"Then I will eat it myself,\" said Aj\u00edt, and taking\nit and all the other cakes she popped them into her mouth together.\n\"That is not half enough for me,\" she said. Then she offered him a can\nof water. \"I cannot drink all that water,\" he said. \"Can't you?\" said\nAj\u00edt; \"I can drink much more than that.\" So she filled a large tub\nwith water, lifted it to her mouth, and drank it all up at a draught.\n\nThe wrestler was very much astonished, and said to her, \"Will you come\nto my house? I will give you a dinner.\" \"You will never be able to\ngive me enough to eat and drink,\" said Aj\u00edt. \"Yes, I shall,\" he said.\n\"You will not be able to give me enough, I am sure,\" said Aj\u00edt; \"I\ncannot come.\" \"Do come,\" he said. \"Very well,\" she answered, \"I will\ncome; but I know you will never be able to give me enough food.\"\n\nSo they set off to his house. But when they had gone a little way, she\nsaid, \"I must have my house with me.\" \"I cannot carry your house,\"\nsaid the wrestler. \"You must,\" said Aj\u00edt, \"if you don't, I cannot go\nwith you.\" \"But I cannot carry your house,\" said the wrestler. \"Well,\nthen,\" said Aj\u00edt, \"I will carry it myself.\" So she went back, dug up\nher house, and hoisted it on her head. This frightened the wrestler.\n\"What a strong woman she must be!\" he thought. \"I will not wrestle\nwith her father; for if I do, he will kill me.\"\n\nThen they all went on till they came to his house. When they got to\nit, Aj\u00edt set her house down on the ground, and the wrestler went to\nget the dinner he had promised her. He brought quantities of\nthings--all sorts of things--everything he could think of. Three kinds\nof flour, milk, dhall, rice, curries, and meat. Then he showed them\nall to Aj\u00edt. \"That is not enough for my dinner,\" she said. \"Why, that\nwould be hardly enough for my mice!\"\n\nThe wrestler wondered very much at this, and asked, \"Are your mice so\nvery big?\" \"Yes, they are very big,\" she answered; \"come and see.\" So\nhe took up all the food he had brought, and laid it on the floor of\nAj\u00edt's house. Then at once all the mice came and ate it up every bit.\nThe wrestler was greatly surprised; and Aj\u00edt said, \"Did I not tell you\ntrue? and did I not tell you, you would never be able to get me enough\nto eat?\" \"Come to the Nabha R\u00e1j\u00e1's country,\" said the wrestler. \"There\nyou will surely get enough to eat.\"\n\nTo this she agreed; so she, her father, and the wrestler went off to\nthe Nabha R\u00e1j\u00e1's country. \"I have brought a very strong girl,\" said\nthe wrestler to the Nabha R\u00e1j\u00e1. \"I will try her strength,\" said the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1. \"Give me three elephants,\" said Aj\u00edt, \"and I will carry them for\nyou.\" Then the R\u00e1j\u00e1 sent for three elephants, and said to her, \"Now,\ncarry these.\" \"Give me a rope,\" said Aj\u00edt. So they gave her a rope,\nand she tied the three elephants together, and flung them over her\nshoulder. \"Now, where shall I throw them?\" she said to the astonished\nR\u00e1j\u00e1. \"Shall I throw them on to the roof of your palace? or on to the\nground? or away out there?\" \"I don't know,\" said the R\u00e1j\u00e1. \"Throw them\nupon my roof.\" She threw the elephants up on to the roof with such\nforce that it broke, and the elephants fell through into the palace.\n\n\"What have you done?\" cried the R\u00e1j\u00e1. \"It is not my fault,\" answered\nAj\u00edt. \"You told me to throw the elephants on to your roof, and so I\ndid.\" Then the R\u00e1j\u00e1 sent for a great many men and bullocks and horses\nto pull the elephants out of his palace. But they could not the first\ntime they pulled; then they tried a second time and succeeded, and\nthey threw the elephants away.\n\nThen Aj\u00edt went home. \"What shall I do with this dreadful woman?\" said\nthe Nabha R\u00e1j\u00e1. \"She is sure to kill me, and take all my country. I\nwill try to kill her.\" So he got his sepoys and guns into order, and\nwent out to kill Aj\u00edt. She was looking out of her window, and saw them\ncoming. \"Oh,\" she said, \"here is the Nabha R\u00e1j\u00e1 coming to kill me.\"\nThen she went out of her house and asked him why he had come. \"To kill\nyou,\" said the R\u00e1j\u00e1. \"Is that what you want to do?\" she said; and with\none hand she took up the R\u00e1j\u00e1, his guns, and his sepoys, and put them\nall under her arm: and she carried them all off to the Nabha R\u00e1j\u00e1's\ncountry. There she put the R\u00e1j\u00e1 into prison, and made herself R\u00e1n\u00ed of\nhis kingdom. She was very much pleased at being R\u00e1n\u00ed of the Nabha\ncountry; for it was a rich country, and there were quantities of\nfruits and of corn in it. And she lived happily for a long, long time.\n\n Told by Kar\u00edm, 13th January, 1877.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXIX.\n\nTHE FAK\u00cdR N\u00c1NAKS\u00c1 SAVES THE MERCHANT'S LIFE.\n\n\nIn a country there was a grain merchant who was a very good man. Now a\nfak\u00edr named N\u00e1naks\u00e1, who was also a very good man, came constantly to\ntalk with him.\n\nOne day he came as usual, and the merchant and his wife were very glad\nto see him. As they were all sitting together, they saw a goat led\naway to be killed. The goat escaped from the man who was leading him\nand hid behind the merchant, but he was caught and marched off to\ndeath.\n\nAt this the merchant said nothing, but the fak\u00edr laughed.\n\nA little later they saw an old woman who had done something wrong,\nand, therefore, the king had ordered her to be taken to the jungle and\nthere put to death. The old woman escaped from the men who were\nleading her and took refuge behind the merchant, but she was seized\nand led away to die.\n\nThe merchant said nothing; the fak\u00edr laughed, and the merchant's wife\nsaw him laugh.\n\nAt this moment the merchant's little daughter woke and began to\nscream. Her mother took her in her arms; the child was cross and\npulled her mother's clothes all awry.\n\nThe fak\u00edr laughed.\n\nThe mother put her dress straight and held her child in her arms and\nstopped her crying. She then took a knife and went up to the fak\u00edr,\nsaying, \"Why did you laugh three times? Tell me the truth. What made\nyou laugh three times?\" N\u00e1naks\u00e1 answered, \"What does it signify\nwhether I cry or laugh? Ask me no questions, for I am a fak\u00edr, and it\ndoes not matter in the least whether I laugh or cry.\" However, the\nmerchant's wife insisted on knowing why he laughed, and she said, \"If\nyou do not tell me, I will kill you with my knife.\" \"Good,\" said\nN\u00e1naks\u00e1; \"if you really do wish to know, I will tell you.\" \"I really\ndo wish to know,\" she answered.\n\n\"Well,\" said N\u00e1naks\u00e1, \"you remember the goat took refuge behind your\nhusband? That goat in his former life was your husband's father, and\nyour husband would have saved him from death had he given the man who\nwas taking him to be killed four rupees, for the man would then have\ngone away contentedly without the goat.\"\n\n\"Good,\" said the woman. \"Why did you laugh the second time?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said N\u00e1naks\u00e1, \"that old woman who hid herself behind your\nhusband was his grandmother in her former life. Had your husband given\nthe men who were taking her to the jungle twenty rupees, they would\nhave given her up to him, and he would have saved her from death.\nShould a wild beast or a man ever take refuge behind us, it is our\nduty to save his life.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the merchant's wife, \"you have told me why you laughed\nthe first two times. Now tell me why you laughed the third time.\"\n\n\"Listen,\" said N\u00e1naks\u00e1. \"You remember your husband's sister whom you\ntormented so much? She died, but then God caused her to be born again\nas your daughter, that she might torment you and punish you for having\nbeen so unkind to her in her former life when she was your\nsister-in-law.\"\n\n\"Is that true?\" said the woman.\n\n\"Quite true,\" answered the fak\u00edr, \"and that is why I laughed the third\ntime. But now would you like to hear something I wish to tell you? If\nyou promise not to cry, I will tell it you.\"\n\n\"I promise not to cry, so tell me,\" she said.\n\n\"Then listen,\" said N\u00e1naks\u00e1. \"God has decreed that your husband shall\ndie to-morrow morning at ten o'clock. He will send four angels to\nfetch him.\"\n\nAt this the poor woman began to cry bitterly.\n\n\"Do not cry,\" said the fak\u00edr. \"I will tell you something more. Listen\nto me. To-morrow morning at four o'clock you must get up, and make\nyour house quite clean and neat. Then buy new dishes and make all the\nnicest and most delicious sweetmeats you can.\"\n\n\"I will do so,\" she answered.\n\nWhen it was yet night she rose, and did all the fak\u00edr had bidden her.\nThen she went to him and said, \"The sweetmeats are ready.\" \"Now,\" said\nN\u00e1naks\u00e1, \"go and get a fine, clean cloth; take it and the sweetmeats\nwith you, and set out and walk on and on till you come to a plain\nwhich is a long way from this. But you must go on till you reach it,\nand on it you will see a tank and a tree. By the tank and the tree you\nmust spread your cloth and lay out your sweetmeats on it. At nine\no'clock you will see four men, who will come and bathe in the tank.\nWhen they have bathed they will come towards you, and you must say to\nthem, 'See! you are four angels, therefore you must eat some of my\nsweetmeats.'\"\n\nThe woman set out for the plain and did all N\u00e1naks\u00e1 had told her to\ndo; and everything happened as he had foretold. When the four men had\nbathed, they came towards the woman, and she said to them, \"See! you\nare four angels, and therefore you must eat some of my sweetmeats.\"\nThe chief of the four angels, who was called Jabr\u00e1'\u00edl, and the three\nother angels answered, \"We have no money, wherewith to buy your\nsweetmeats, so how can we eat any of them?\" \"Never mind the money,\"\nsaid the woman; \"you can pay me another day. Come now and eat some.\"\nSo the four angels sat down and ate a great many of her sweetmeats.\n\nWhen they had finished they stood up and said to each other, \"Now we\nmust go to the village and fetch the merchant.\" Then the woman made\nthem a great many salaams and said, \"That merchant is my husband.\nStill, if it is your pleasure to take him away, take him away.\"\n\nAt this the angels were sad, and said to her, \"How can we take your\nhusband's life now that we have eaten your food? But stay under this\ntree till we return, and then we will pay you for your sweetmeats.\"\n\nSo the angels left her, and the wife waited under the tree. She was\nvery sad; and after some time she thought, \"Now I will go home:\nperhaps these angels are gone to take his life;\" and then she cried\nbitterly and remained under the tree.\n\nMeanwhile the four angels had gone back to God, who asked them, \"Have\nyou brought the merchant?\" They were sorry not to have brought him,\nand told God all that had happened. And God was very angry; but he\nsaid to them. \"Never mind. I know the fak\u00edr N\u00e1naks\u00e1 is with the\nmerchant and his wife just now, and it is he who has played you this\ntrick.\"\n\nThen God wrote a letter in which he promised the merchant twenty years\nmore life, only at the end of the twenty years he was really to die\nand not to be allowed to live any longer. This letter he gave to the\nangels, and bade them take it to the merchant's wife and tell her to\nhave a silver box made, into which she was to put the letter, and\nthen hang it round her husband's neck, so that he should live for\ntwenty years more.\n\nThe four angels came down to earth again, and went to the tree under\nwhich they had left the woman. They found her waiting for them, and\ngave her the letter saying, \"You must get a silver box made and put\nthis letter in it; then hang it round your husband's neck, so that he\nmay live for twenty years more.\"\n\nThe woman thanked them, and was very happy. She took the letter and\nwent home. There she found her husband quite well, and with him was\nN\u00e1naks\u00e1. She gave N\u00e1naks\u00e1 the letter and told him what the angels had\nbidden her do with it. N\u00e1naks\u00e1 read the letter, and was very much\npleased. Then he said to her, \"Call a silversmith here, and let him\nmake you the silver box. Then you must get a great dinner ready, and\nask all your friends, rich and poor, to come and eat it.\"\n\nAll this she did, and when the dinner was ready and all their friends\nhad come, the fak\u00edr said, \"None who are here, men, women, or children,\nmust eat, till they have put their hands before their faces and\nworshipped God.\" Everybody hid his face in his hands at once and\nworshipped God: while they did this the fak\u00edr stole away from them, so\nwhen they uncovered their faces he was nowhere to be seen. No one knew\nwhere he had gone, and no one had seen him go. Some of the men went to\nlook for him, but they could not find him, and none of them ever saw\nhim again.\n\nBut the merchant and his wife lived happily together.\n\n Told by M\u00faniy\u00e1.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXX.\n\nTHE BOY WHO HAD A MOON ON HIS FOREHEAD AND A STAR ON HIS CHIN.\n\n\nIn a country were seven daughters of poor parents, who used to come\ndaily to play under the shady trees in the King's garden with the\ngardener's daughter; and daily she used to say to them, \"When I am\nmarried I shall have a son. Such a beautiful boy as he will be has\nnever been seen. He will have a moon on his forehead, and a star on\nhis chin.\" Then her playfellows used to laugh at her and mock her.\n\nBut one day the King heard her telling them about the beautiful boy\nshe would have when she was married, and he said to himself he should\nlike very much to have such a son; the more so that though he had\nalready four wives he had no child. He went, therefore, to the\ngardener and told him he wished to marry his daughter. This delighted\nthe gardener and his wife, who thought it would indeed be grand for\ntheir daughter to become a princess. So they said \"Yes\" to the King,\nand invited all their friends to the wedding. The King invited all\nhis, and he gave the gardener as much money as he wanted. Then the\nwedding was held with great feasting and rejoicing.\n\nA year later the day drew near on which the gardener's daughter was to\nhave her son; and the King's four other wives came constantly to see\nher. One day they said to her, \"The King hunts every day; and the time\nis soon coming when you will have your child. Suppose you fell ill\nwhilst he was out hunting and could therefore know nothing of your\nillness, what would you do then?\"\n\nWhen the King came home that evening, the gardener's daughter said to\nhim, \"Every day you go out hunting. Should I ever be in trouble or\nsick while you are away, how could I send for you?\" The King gave her\na kettle-drum which he placed near the door for her, and he said to\nher, \"Whenever you want me, beat this kettle-drum. No matter how far\naway I may be, I shall hear it, and will come at once to you.\"\n\nNext morning, when the King had gone out to hunt, his four other wives\ncame to see the gardener's daughter. She told them all about her\nkettle-drum. \"Oh,\" they said, \"do drum on it just to see if the King\nreally will come to you.\" \"No, I will not,\" she said; \"for why should\nI call him from his hunting when I do not want him?\" \"Don't mind\ninterrupting his hunting,\" they answered. \"Do try if he really will\ncome to you when you beat your kettle-drum.\" So at last, just to\nplease them, she beat it, and the King stood before her.\n\n\"Why have you called me?\" he said. \"See, I have left my hunting to\ncome to you.\" \"I want nothing,\" she answered; \"I only wished to know\nif you really would come to me when I beat my drum.\" \"Very well,\"\nanswered the King; \"but do not call me again unless you really need\nme.\" Then he returned to his hunting.\n\nThe next day, when the King had gone out hunting as usual, the four\nwives again came to see the gardener's daughter. They begged and\nbegged her to beat her drum once more, \"just to see if the King will\nreally come to see you this time.\" At first she refused, but at last\nshe consented. So she beat her drum, and the King came to her. But\nwhen he found she was neither ill nor in trouble, he was angry, and\nsaid to her, \"Twice I have left my hunting and lost my game to come\nto you when you did not need me. Now you may call me as much as you\nlike, but I will not come to you,\" and then he went away in a rage.\n\nThe third day the gardener's daughter fell ill, and she beat and beat\nher kettle-drum; but the King never came. He heard her kettle-drum,\nbut he thought, \"She does not really want me; she is only trying to\nsee if I will go to her.\"\n\nMeanwhile the four other wives came to her, and they said, \"Here it is\nthe custom before a child is born to bind its mother's eyes with a\nhandkerchief that she may not see it just at first. So let us bind\nyour eyes.\" She answered, \"Very well, bind my eyes.\" The four wives\nthen tied a handkerchief over them.\n\nSoon after, the gardener's daughter had a beautiful little son, with a\nmoon on his forehead and a star on his chin; and before the poor\nmother had seen him, the four wicked wives took the boy to the nurse\nand said to her, \"Now you must not let this child make the least sound\nfor fear his mother should hear him; and in the night you must either\nkill him, or else take him away, so that his mother may never see him.\nIf you obey our orders, we will give you a great many rupees.\" All\nthis they did out of spite. The nurse took the little child and put\nhim into a box, and the four wives went back to the gardener's\ndaughter.\n\nFirst they put a stone into her boy's little bed, and then they took\nthe handkerchief off her eyes and showed it her, saying, \"Look! this\nis your son!\" The poor girl cried bitterly, and thought, \"What will\nthe King say when he finds no child?\" But she could do nothing.\n\nWhen the King came home, he was furious at hearing his youngest wife,\nthe gardener's daughter, had given him a stone instead of the\nbeautiful little son she had promised him. He made her one of the\npalace servants, and never spoke to her.\n\nIn the middle of the night the nurse took the box in which was the\nbeautiful little prince, and went out to a broad plain in the jungle.\nThere she dug a hole, made the fastenings of the box sure, and put the\nbox into the hole, although the child in it was still alive. The\nKing's dog, whose name was Shankar, had followed her to see what she\ndid with the box. As soon as she had gone back to the four wives (who\ngave her a great many rupees), the dog went to the hole in which she\nhad put the box, took the box out, and opened it. When he saw the\nbeautiful little boy, he was very much delighted and said, \"If it\npleases God that this child should live, I will not hurt him; I will\nnot eat him, but I will swallow him whole and hide him in my stomach.\"\nThis he did.\n\nAfter six months had passed, the dog went by night to the jungle, and\nthought, \"I wonder whether the boy is alive or dead.\" Then he brought\nthe child out of his stomach and rejoiced over his beauty. The boy was\nnow six months old. When Shankar had caressed and loved him, he\nswallowed him again for another six months. At the end of that time he\nwent once more by night to the broad jungle-plain. There he brought up\nthe child out of his stomach (the child was now a year old), and\ncaressed and petted him a great deal, and was made very happy by his\ngreat beauty.\n\nBut this time the dog's keeper had followed and watched the dog; and\nhe saw all that Shankar did, and the beautiful little child, so he ran\nto the four wives and said to them, \"Inside the King's dog there is a\nchild! the loveliest child! He has a moon on his forehead and a star\non his chin. Such a child has never been seen!\" At this the four wives\nwere very much frightened, and as soon as the King came home from\nhunting they said to him, \"While you were away your dog came to our\nrooms, and tore our clothes and knocked about all our things. We are\nafraid he will kill us.\" \"Do not be afraid,\" said the King. \"Eat your\ndinner and be happy. I will have the dog shot to-morrow morning.\"\n\nThen he ordered his servants to shoot the dog at dawn, but the dog\nheard him, and said to himself, \"What shall I do? The King intends to\nkill me. I don't care about that, but what will become of the child if\nI am killed? He will die. But I will see if I cannot save him.\"\n\nSo when it was night, the dog ran to the King's cow, who was called\nSur\u00ed, and said to her, \"Sur\u00ed, I want to give you something, for the\nKing has ordered me to be shot to-morrow. Will you take great care of\nwhatever I give you?\" \"Let me see what it is,\" said Sur\u00ed; \"I will take\ncare of it if I can.\" Then they both went together to the wide plain,\nand there the dog brought up the boy. Sur\u00ed was enchanted with him. \"I\nnever saw such a beautiful child in this country,\" she said. \"See, he\nhas a moon on his forehead and a star on his chin. I will take the\ngreatest care of him.\" So saying she swallowed the little prince. The\ndog made her a great many salaams, and said, \"To-morrow I shall die;\"\nand the cow then went back to her stable.\n\nNext morning at dawn the dog was taken to the jungle and shot.\n\nThe child now lived in Sur\u00ed's stomach; and when one whole year had\npassed, and he was two years old, the cow went out to the plain, and\nsaid to herself, \"I do not know whether the child is alive or dead.\nBut I have never hurt it, so I will see.\" Then she brought up the boy;\nand he played about, and Sur\u00ed was delighted; she loved him and\ncaressed him, and talked to him. Then she swallowed him, and returned\nto her stable.\n\nAt the end of another year she went again to the plain and brought up\nthe child. He played and ran about for an hour to her great delight,\nand she talked to him and caressed him. His great beauty made her very\nhappy. Then she swallowed him once more and returned to her stable.\nThe child was now three years old.\n\nBut this time the cowherd had followed Sur\u00ed, and had seen the\nwonderful child and all she did to it. So he ran and told the four\nwives, \"The King's cow has a beautiful boy inside her. He has a moon\non his forehead and a star on his chin. Such a child has never been\nseen before!\"\n\nAt this the wives were terrified. They tore their clothes and their\nhair and cried. When the King came home at evening, he asked them why\nthey were so agitated. \"Oh,\" they said, \"your cow came and tried to\nkill us; but we ran away. She tore our hair and our clothes.\" \"Never\nmind,\" said the King. \"Eat your dinner and be happy. The cow shall be\nkilled to-morrow morning.\"\n\nNow Sur\u00ed heard the King give this order to the servants, so she said\nto herself, \"What shall I do to save the child?\" When it was midnight,\nshe went to the King's horse called Katar, who was very wicked, and\nquite untameable. No one had ever been able to ride him; indeed no one\ncould go near him with safety, he was so savage. Sur\u00ed said to this\nhorse, \"Katar, will you take care of something that I want to give\nyou, because the King has ordered me to be killed to-morrow?\" \"Good,\"\nsaid Katar; \"show me what it is.\" Then Sur\u00ed brought up the child, and\nthe horse was delighted with him. \"Yes,\" he said, \"I will take the\ngreatest care of him. Till now no one has been able to ride me, but\nthis child shall ride me.\" Then he swallowed the boy, and when he had\ndone so, the cow made him many salaams, saying, \"It is for this boy's\nsake that I am to die.\" The next morning she was taken to the jungle\nand there killed.\n\nThe beautiful boy now lived in the horse's stomach, and he stayed in\nit for one whole year. At the end of that time the horse thought, \"I\nwill see if this child is alive or dead.\" So he brought him up; and\nthen he loved him, and petted him, and the little prince played all\nabout the stable, out of which the horse was never allowed to go.\nKatar was very glad to see the child, who was now four years old.\nAfter he had played for some time, the horse swallowed him again. At\nthe end of another year, when the boy was five years old, Katar\nbrought him up again, caressed him, loved him, and let him play about\nthe stable as he had done a year before. Then the horse swallowed him\nagain.\n\nBut this time the groom had seen all that happened, and when it was\nmorning, and the King had gone away to his hunting, he went to the\nfour wicked wives, and told them all he had seen, and all about the\nwonderful, beautiful child that lived inside the King's horse Katar.\nOn hearing the groom's story the four wives cried, and tore their hair\nand clothes, and refused to eat. When the King returned at evening and\nasked them why they were so miserable, they said, \"Your horse Katar\ncame and tore our clothes, and upset all our things, and we ran away\nfor fear he should kill us.\" \"Never mind,\" said the King. \"Only eat\nyour dinner and be happy. I will have Katar shot to-morrow.\" Then he\nthought that two men unaided could not kill such a wicked horse, so he\nordered his servants to bid his troop of sepoys shoot him.\n\nSo the next day the King placed his sepoys all round the stable, and\nhe took up his stand with them; and he said he would himself shoot any\none who let his horse escape.\n\nMeanwhile the horse had overheard all these orders. So he brought up\nthe child and said to him, \"Go into that little room that leads out of\nthe stable, and you will find in it a saddle and bridle which you must\nput on me. Then you will find in the room some beautiful clothes such\nas princes wear; these you must put on yourself; and you must take the\nsword and gun you will find there too. Then you must mount on my\nback.\" Now Katar was a fairy-horse, and came from the fairies'\ncountry, so he could get anything he wanted; but neither the King nor\nany of his people knew this. When all was ready, Katar burst out of\nhis stable, with the prince on his back, rushed past the King himself\nbefore the King had time to shoot him, galloped away to the great\njungle-plain, and galloped about all over it. The King saw his horse\nhad a boy on his back, though he could not see the boy distinctly. The\nsepoys tried in vain to shoot the horse; he galloped much too fast;\nand at last they were all scattered over the plain. Then the King had\nto give it up and go home; and his sepoys went to their homes. The\nKing could not shoot any of his sepoys for letting his horse escape,\nfor he himself had let him do so.\n\nThen Katar galloped away, on, and on, and on; and when night came they\nstayed under a tree, he and the King's son. The horse ate grass, and\nthe boy wild fruits which he found in the jungle. Next morning they\nstarted afresh, and went far, and far, till they came to a jungle in\nanother country, which did not belong to the little prince's father,\nbut to another king. Here Katar said to the boy, \"Now get off my\nback.\" Off jumped the prince. \"Unsaddle me and take off my bridle;\ntake off your beautiful clothes and tie them all up in a bundle with\nyour sword and gun.\" This the boy did. Then the horse gave him some\npoor, common clothes, which he told him to put on. As soon as he was\ndressed in them the horse said, \"Hide your bundle in this grass, and I\nwill take care of it for you. I will always stay in this jungle-plain,\nso that when you want me you will always find me. You must now go away\nand find service with some one in this country.\" This made the boy\nvery sad. \"I know nothing about anything,\" he said. \"What shall I do\nall alone in this country?\" \"Do not be afraid,\" answered Katar. \"You\nwill find service, and I will always stay here to help you when you\nwant me. So go, only before you go, twist my right ear.\" The boy did\nso, and his horse instantly became a donkey. \"Now twist your right\near,\" said Katar. And when the boy had twisted it, he was no longer a\nhandsome prince, but a poor, common-looking, ugly man; and his moon\nand star were hidden.\n\nThen he went away further into the country, until he came to a grain\nmerchant of the country, who asked him who he was. \"I am a poor man,\"\nanswered the boy, \"and I want service.\" \"Good,\" said the grain\nmerchant, \"you shall be my servant.\"\n\nNow the grain merchant lived near the King's palace, and one night at\ntwelve o'clock the boy was very hot; so he went out into the King's\ncool garden, and began to sing a lovely song. The seventh and youngest\ndaughter of the King heard him, and she wondered who it was who could\nsing so deliciously. Then she put on her clothes, rolled up her hair,\nand came down to where the seemingly poor common man was lying\nsinging. \"Who are you? where do you come from?\" she asked. But he\nanswered nothing. \"Who is this man who does not answer when I speak to\nhim?\" thought the little princess, and she went away. On the second\nnight the same thing happened, and on the third night too. But on the\nthird night, when she found she could not make him answer her, she\nsaid to him, \"What a strange man you are not to answer me when I speak\nto you.\" But still he remained silent, so she went away.\n\nThe next day when he had finished his work, the young prince went to\nthe jungle to see his horse, who asked him, \"Are you quite well and\nhappy?\" \"Yes, I am,\" answered the boy. \"I am servant to a grain\nmerchant. The last three nights I have gone into the King's garden and\nsung a song. And each night the youngest princess has come to me and\nasked me who I am, and whence I came, and I have answered nothing.\nWhat shall I do now?\" The horse said, \"Next time she asks you who you\nare, tell her you are a very poor man, and came from your own country\nto find service here.\"\n\nThe boy then went home to the grain merchant, and at night, when\nevery one had gone to bed, he went to the King's garden and sang his\nsweet song again. The youngest princess heard him, got up, dressed,\nand came to him. \"Who are you? Whence do you come?\" she asked. \"I am a\nvery poor man,\" he answered. \"I came from my own country to seek\nservice here, and I am now one of the grain merchant's servants.\" Then\nshe went away. For three more nights the boy sang in the King's\ngarden, and each night the princess came and asked him the same\nquestions as before, and the boy gave her the same answers.\n\nThen she went to her father, and said to him, \"Father, I wish to be\nmarried; but I must choose my husband myself.\" Her father consented to\nthis, and he wrote and invited all the Kings and R\u00e1j\u00e1s in the land,\nsaying, \"My youngest daughter wishes to be married, but she insists on\nchoosing her husband herself. As I do not know who it is she wishes to\nmarry, I beg you will all come on a certain day, for her to see you\nand make her choice.\"\n\nA great many Kings, R\u00e1j\u00e1s, and their sons accepted this invitation and\ncame. When they had all arrived, the little princess's father said to\nthem, \"To-morrow morning you must all sit together in my garden\" (the\nKing's garden was very large), \"for then my youngest daughter will\ncome and see you all, and choose her husband. I do not know whom she\nwill choose.\"\n\nThe youngest princess ordered a grand elephant to be ready for her the\nnext morning, and when the morning came, and all was ready, she\ndressed herself in the most lovely clothes, and put on her beautiful\njewels; then she mounted her elephant, which was painted blue. In her\nhand she took a gold necklace.\n\nThen she went into the garden where the Kings, R\u00e1j\u00e1s, and their sons\nwere seated. The boy, the grain merchant's servant, was also in the\ngarden: not as a suitor, but looking on with the other servants.\n\nThe princess rode all round the garden, and looked at all the Kings\nand R\u00e1j\u00e1s and princes, and then she hung the gold necklace round the\nneck of the boy, the grain merchant's servant. At this everybody\nlaughed, and the Kings were greatly astonished. But then they and the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1s said, \"What fooling is this?\" and they pushed the pretended poor\nman away, and took the necklace off his neck, and said to him, \"Get\nout of the way, you poor, dirty man. Your clothes are far too dirty\nfor you to come near us!\" The boy went far away from them, and stood a\nlong way off to see what would happen.\n\nThen the King's youngest daughter went all round the garden again,\nholding her gold necklace in her hand, and once more she hung it round\nthe boy's neck. Every one laughed at her and said, \"How can the King's\ndaughter think of marrying this poor, common man!\" and the Kings and\nthe R\u00e1j\u00e1s, who had come as suitors, all wanted to turn him out of the\ngarden. But the princess said, \"Take care! take care! You must not\nturn him out. Leave him alone.\" Then she put him on her elephant, and\ntook him to the palace.\n\nThe Kings and R\u00e1j\u00e1s and their sons were very much astonished, and\nsaid, \"What does this mean? The princess does not care to marry one of\nus, but chooses that very poor man!\" Her father then stood up, and\nsaid to them all, \"I promised my daughter she should marry any one she\npleased, and as she has twice chosen that poor, common man, she shall\nmarry him.\" And so the princess and the boy were married with great\npomp and splendour: her father and mother were quite content with her\nchoice; and the Kings, the R\u00e1j\u00e1s and their sons, all returned to their\nhomes.\n\nNow the princess's six sisters had all married rich princes--and they\nlaughed at her for choosing such a poor ugly husband as hers seemed\nto be, and said to each other, mockingly, \"See! our sister has married\nthis poor, common man!\" Their six husbands used to go out hunting\nevery day, and every evening they brought home quantities of all kinds\nof game to their wives, and the game was cooked for their dinner and\nfor the King's; but the husband of the youngest princess always stayed\nat home in the palace, and never went out hunting at all. This made\nher very sad, and she said to herself, \"My sisters' husbands hunt\nevery day, but my husband never hunts at all.\"\n\nAt last she said to him, \"Why do you never go out hunting as my\nsisters' husbands do every day, and every day they bring home\nquantities of all kinds of game? Why do you always stay at home,\ninstead of doing as they do?\"\n\nOne day he said to her, \"I am going out to-day to eat the air.\" \"Very\ngood,\" she answered; \"go, and take one of the horses.\" \"No,\" said the\nyoung prince, \"I will not ride, I will walk.\" Then he went to the\njungle-plain where he had left Katar, who all this time had seemed to\nbe a donkey, and he told Katar everything. \"Listen,\" he said; \"I have\nmarried the youngest princess; and when we were married everybody\nlaughed at her for choosing me, and said, 'What a very poor, common\nman our princess has chosen for her husband!' Besides, my wife is very\nsad, for her six sisters' husbands all hunt every day, and bring home\nquantities of game, and their wives therefore are very proud of them.\nBut I stay at home all day, and never hunt. To-day I should like to\nhunt very much.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Katar, \"then twist my left ear;\" and as soon as the boy\nhad twisted it, Katar was a horse again, and not a donkey any longer.\n\"Now,\" said Katar, \"twist your left ear, and you will see what a\nbeautiful young prince you will become.\" So the boy twisted his own\nleft ear, and there he stood no longer a poor, common, ugly man, but\na grand young prince with a moon on his forehead and a star on his\nchin. Then he put on his splendid clothes, saddled and bridled Katar,\ngot on his back with his sword and gun, and rode off to hunt.\n\nHe rode very far, and shot a great many birds and a quantity of deer.\nThat day his six brothers-in-law could find no game, for the beautiful\nyoung prince had shot it all. Nearly all the day long these six\nprinces wandered about looking in vain for game; till at last they\ngrew hungry and thirsty, and could find no water, and they had no food\nwith them. Meanwhile the beautiful young prince had sat down under a\ntree, to dine and rest, and there his six brothers-in-law found him.\nBy his side was some delicious water, and also some roast meat.\n\nWhen they saw him the six princes said to each other, \"Look at that\nhandsome prince. He has a moon on his forehead and a star on his chin.\nWe have never seen such a prince in this jungle before; he must come\nfrom another country.\" Then they came up to him, and made him many\nsalaams, and begged him to give them some food and water. \"Who are\nyou?\" said the young prince. \"We are the husbands of the six elder\ndaughters of the King of this country,\" they answered; \"and we have\nhunted all day, and are very hungry and thirsty.\" They did not\nrecognize their brother-in-law in the least.\n\n\"Well,\" said the young prince, \"I will give you something to eat and\ndrink if you will do as I bid you.\" \"We will do all you tell us to\ndo,\" they answered, \"for if we do not get water to drink, we shall\ndie.\" \"Very good,\" said the young prince. \"Now you must let me put a\nred-hot pice on the back of each of you, and then I will give you food\nand water. Do you agree to this?\" The six princes consented, for they\nthought, \"No one will ever see the mark of the pice, as it will be\ncovered by our clothes; and we shall die if we have no water to\ndrink.\" Then the young prince took six pice, and made them red-hot in\nthe fire; he laid one on the back of each of the six princes, and gave\nthem good food and water. They ate and drank; and when they had\nfinished they made him many salaams and went home.\n\nThe young prince stayed under the tree till it was evening; then he\nmounted his horse and rode off to the King's palace. All the people\nlooked at him as he came riding along, saying, \"What a splendid young\nprince that is! He has a moon on his forehead and a star on his chin.\"\nBut no one recognized him. When he came near the King's palace, all\nthe King's servants asked him who he was; and as none of them knew\nhim, the gate-keepers would not let him pass in. They all wondered who\nhe could be, and all thought him the most beautiful prince that had\never been seen.\n\nAt last they asked him who he was. \"I am the husband of your youngest\nprincess,\" he answered. \"No, no, indeed you are not,\" they said; \"for\nhe is a poor, common-looking, and ugly man.\" \"But I am he,\" answered\nthe prince; only no one would believe him. \"Tell us the truth,\" said\nthe servants; \"who are you?\" \"Perhaps you cannot recognize me,\" said\nthe young prince, \"but call the youngest princess here. I wish to\nspeak to her.\" The servants called her, and she came. \"That man is not\nmy husband,\" she said at once. \"My husband is not nearly as handsome\nas that man. This must be a prince from another country.\"\n\nThen she said to him, \"Who are you? Why do you say you are my\nhusband?\" \"Because I am your husband. I am telling you the truth,\"\nanswered the young prince. \"No you are not, you are not telling me the\ntruth,\" said the little princess. \"My husband is not a handsome man\nlike you. I married a very poor, common-looking man.\" \"That is true,\"\nhe answered, \"but nevertheless I am your husband. I was the grain\nmerchant's servant; and one hot night I went into your father's garden\nand sang, and you heard me, and came and asked me who I was and where\nI came from, and I would not answer you. And the same thing happened\nthe next night, and the next, and on the fourth I told you I was a\nvery poor man, and had come from my country to seek service in yours,\nand that I was the grain merchant's servant. Then you told your father\nyou wished to marry, but must choose your own husband; and when all\nthe Kings and R\u00e1j\u00e1s were seated in your father's garden, you sat on an\nelephant and went round and looked at them all; and then twice hung\nyour gold necklace round my neck, and chose me. See, here is your\nnecklace, and here are the ring and the handkerchief you gave me on\nour wedding day.\"\n\nThen she believed him, and was very glad that her husband was such a\nbeautiful young prince. \"What a strange man you are!\" she said to him.\n\"Till now you have been poor, and ugly, and common-looking. Now you\nare beautiful and look like a prince; I never saw such a handsome man\nas you are before; and yet I know you must be my husband.\" Then she\nworshipped God and thanked him for letting her have such a husband. \"I\nhave,\" she said, \"a beautiful husband. There is no one like him in\nthis country. He has a moon on his forehead and a star on his chin.\"\nThen she took him into the palace, and showed him to her father and\nmother and to every one. They all said they had never seen any one\nlike him, and were all very happy. And the young prince lived as\nbefore in the King's palace with his wife, and Katar lived in the\nKing's stables.\n\nOne day, when the King and his seven sons-in-law were in his\ncourt-house, and it was full of people, the young prince said to him,\n\"There are six thieves here in your court-house.\" \"Six thieves!\" said\nthe King. \"Where are they? Show them to me.\" \"There they are,\" said\nthe young prince, pointing to his six brothers-in-law. The King and\nevery one else in the court-house were very much astonished, and would\nnot believe the young prince. \"Take off their coats,\" he said, \"and\nthen you will see for yourselves that each of them has the mark of a\nthief on his back.\" So their coats were taken off the six princes, and\nthe King and everybody in the court-house saw the marks of the red-hot\npice. The six princes were very much ashamed, but the young prince was\nvery glad. He had not forgotten how his brothers-in-law had laughed at\nhim and mocked him when he seemed a poor, common man.\n\nNow when Katar was still in the jungle, before the prince was married,\nhe had told the boy the whole story of his birth, and all that had\nhappened to him and his mother. \"When you are married,\" he said to\nhim, \"I will take you back to your father's country.\" So two months\nafter the young prince had revenged himself on his brothers-in-law,\nKatar said to him, \"It is time for you to return to your father. Get\nthe King to let you go to your own country, and I will tell you what\nto do when we get there.\"\n\nThe prince always did what his horse told him to do; so he went to his\nwife and said to her, \"I wish very much to go to my own country to see\nmy father and mother.\" \"Very well,\" said his wife; \"I will tell my\nfather and mother, and ask them to let us go.\" Then she went to them,\nand told them, and they consented to let her and her husband leave\nthem. The King gave his daughter and the young prince a great many\nhorses, and elephants, and all sorts of presents, and also a great\nmany sepoys to guard them. In this grand state they travelled to the\nprince's country, which was not a great many miles off. When they\nreached it they pitched their tents on the same plain in which the\nprince had been left in his box by the nurse, where Shankar and Sur\u00ed\nhad swallowed him so often.\n\nWhen the King, his father, the gardener's daughter's husband, saw the\nprince's camp, he was very much alarmed, and thought a great King had\ncome to make war on him. He sent one of his servants, therefore, to\nask whose camp it was. The young prince then wrote him a letter, in\nwhich he said, \"You are a great King. Do not fear me. I am not come to\nmake war on you. I am as if I were your son. I am a prince who has\ncome to see your country and to speak with you. I wish to give you a\ngrand feast, to which everyone in your country must come--men and\nwomen, old and young, rich and poor, of all castes; all the children,\nfak\u00edrs, and sepoys. You must bring them all here to me for a week, and\nI will feast them all.\"\n\nThe King was delighted with this letter, and ordered all the men,\nwomen, and children of all castes, fak\u00edrs and sepoys, in his country\nto go to the prince's camp to a grand feast the prince would give\nthem. So they all came, and the King brought his four wives too. All\ncame, at least all but the gardener's daughter. No one had told her to\ngo to the feast, for no one had thought of her.\n\nWhen all the people were assembled, the prince saw his mother was not\nthere, and he asked the King, \"Has every one in your country come to\nmy feast?\" \"Yes, everyone,\" said the King. \"Are you sure of that?\"\nasked the prince.\n\n\"Quite sure,\" answered the King. \"I am sure one woman has not come,\"\nsaid the prince. \"She is your gardener's daughter, who was once your\nwife and is now a servant in your palace.\" \"True,\" said the King, \"I\nhad forgotten her.\" Then the prince told his servants to take his\nfinest palanquin and to fetch the gardener's daughter. They were to\nbathe her, dress her in beautiful clothes and handsome jewels, and\nthen bring her to him in the palanquin.\n\nWhile the servants were bringing the gardener's daughter, the King\nthought how handsome the young prince was; and he noticed\nparticularly the moon on his forehead and the star on his chin, and he\nwondered in what country the young prince was born.\n\nAnd now the palanquin arrived bringing the gardener's daughter, and\nthe young prince went himself and took her out of it, and brought her\ninto the tent. He made her a great many salaams. The four wicked wives\nlooked on and were very much surprised and very angry. They remembered\nthat, when they arrived, the prince had made them no salaams, and\nsince then had not taken the least notice of them; whereas he could\nnot do enough for the gardener's daughter, and seemed very glad to see\nher.\n\nWhen they were all at dinner, the prince again made the gardener's\ndaughter a great many salaams, and gave her food from all the nicest\ndishes. She wondered at his kindness to her, and thought, \"Who is this\nhandsome prince, with a moon on his forehead and a star on his chin? I\nnever saw any one so beautiful. What country does he come from?\"\n\nTwo or three days were thus passed in feasting, and all that time the\nKing and his people were talking about the prince's beauty, and\nwondering who he was.\n\nOne day the prince asked the King if he had any children. \"None,\" he\nanswered. \"Do you know who I am?\" asked the prince. \"No,\" said the\nKing. \"Tell me who you are.\" \"I am your son,\" answered the prince,\n\"and the gardener's daughter is my mother.\" The King shook his head\nsadly. \"How can you be my son,\" he said, \"when I have never had any\nchildren?\" \"But I am your son,\" answered the prince. \"Your four wicked\nwives told you the gardener's daughter had given you a stone and not a\nson; but it was they who put the stone in my little bed, and then they\ntried to kill me.\" The King did not believe him. \"I wish you were my\nson,\" he said; \"but as I never had a child, you cannot be my son.\"\n\"Do you remember your dog Shankar, and how you had him killed? And do\nyou remember your cow Sur\u00ed, and how you had her killed too? Your wives\nmade you kill them because of me. And,\" he said, taking the King to\nKatar, \"do you know whose horse that is?\"\n\nThe King looked at Katar, and then said, \"That is my horse Katar.\"\n\"Yes,\" said the Prince. \"Do you not remember how he rushed past you\nout of his stable with me on his back?\" Then Katar told the King the\nprince was really his son, and told him all the story of his birth,\nand of his life up to that moment; and when the King found the\nbeautiful prince was indeed his son, he was so glad, so glad. He put\nhis arms round him and kissed him and cried for joy.\n\n\"Now,\" said the King, \"you must come with me to my palace, and live\nwith me always.\" \"No,\" said the prince, \"that I cannot do. I cannot go\nto your palace. I only came here to fetch my mother; and now that I\nhave found her, I will take her with me to my father-in-law's palace.\nI have married a King's daughter, and we live with her father.\" \"But\nnow that I have found you, I cannot let you go,\" said his father. \"You\nand your wife must come and live with your mother and me in my\npalace.\" \"That we will never do,\" said the prince, \"unless you will\nkill your four wicked wives with your own hand. If you will do that,\nwe will come and live with you.\"\n\nSo the King killed his wives, and then he and his wife, the gardener's\ndaughter, and the prince and his wife, all went to live in the King's\npalace, and lived there happily together for ever after; and the King\nthanked God for giving him such a beautiful son, and for ridding him\nof his four wicked wives.\n\nKatar did not return to the fairies' country, but stayed always with\nthe young prince, and never left him.\n\n Told by M\u00faniy\u00e1.\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXXI.\n\nTHE B\u00c9L-PRINCESS.\n\n\nIn a country lived a King who had seven sons. Six of these sons\nmarried, but the seventh and youngest son would not marry; and,\nmoreover, he disliked his six sisters-in-law, and could not bear to\ntake food from their hands. One day, they got very angry with him for\ndisliking them, and they said to him, taunting him, \"We think that you\nwill marry a B\u00e9l-Princess.\"\n\n\"A B\u00e9l-Princess,\" said the young prince to himself. \"What is a\nB\u00e9l-Princess? and where is one to be found? I will go and look for\none.\" But the next day he thought, \"How can I find a B\u00e9l-Princess? I\ndon't know where to seek for her.\"\n\nAt last one day he saddled and bridled one of his father's beautiful\nhorses. Then he put on his grand clothes, took his sword and gun, and\nsaid good-bye to his father and mother, and set out on his search.\nThey cried very much at parting with him.\n\nHe rode from his father's country for a long, long way. At length,\nwhen he had journeyed for six months, he found himself in a great\njungle, through which he went for many nights and days, until he at\nlast came to where a fak\u00edr lay sleeping. The young prince thought, \"I\nwill watch by this fak\u00edr till he wakes. Perhaps he can help me.\" So he\nstayed with the fak\u00edr for one whole month; and all that time he took\ncare of him and watched by him, and kept his hut clean.\n\nThis fak\u00edr used to sleep for six whole months at a time, and then he\nwould remain awake for six months.\n\nWhen the prince had watched over him for one month the fak\u00edr woke, for\nhis six months' sleep had come to an end; and when he saw what care\nthe young prince had taken of him, and how clean his hut was, he was\nvery much pleased with the King's son, and said to him, \"How have you\nbeen able to reach this jungle, to which no man can come? and who are\nyou? and whence do you come?\"\n\n\"I am a King's son,\" answered the prince. \"My father's country is a\nsix months' journey away from this; and I am come to look for a\nB\u00e9l-Princess. I hear there is a B\u00e9l-Princess, and I want to find her.\nCan you tell me where she is?\"\n\n\"It is true that there is one,\" answered the fak\u00edr, \"and I know where\nshe is. She is in the fairies' country, whither no man can go.\"\n\nThis made the young prince very sad. \"What shall I do?\" he said. \"I\nhave left my father and mother, and have travelled a long, long way to\nfind the B\u00e9l-Princess. And now you tell me I cannot go where she\nlives.\"\n\n\"I will help you,\" said the fak\u00edr, \"and if you do exactly what I tell\nyou, you will find her. But, first, stay here with me for a little\nwhile.\"\n\nSo the King's son stayed for another month with the fak\u00edr, and took\ncare of him, and did everything for him, as he did for his own father.\n\nAt the end of the month, the fak\u00edr gave him his stick, and said to\nhim, \"Now you must go to the fairies' country. It is one week's\njourney distant from this jungle. When you get there, you will see a\nnumber of demons and fairies who live in it.\" Then the fak\u00edr took a\nlittle earth from the ground, and put it in the prince's hand. \"When\nyou have come to the fairies' country, in order that they and the\ndemons may not see you, you must blow all this earth away from the\npalm of your hand, and then you will be invisible. You must ride on\ntill you come to a great plain in the middle of their garden, and on\nthis plain you will see a large b\u00e9l-tree and on it one big b\u00e9l-fruit.\nIn this fruit is the B\u00e9l-Princess. You must throw my stick at it, and\nit will fall; but you must take care to catch the fruit in your shawl,\nand not let it fall to the ground. Then ride quickly back to me, for\nas soon as the fruit falls you will cease to be invisible, and the\nfairies and demons who guard the fruit will all come running after\nyou, and they will all call to you. But take care, take care not to\nlook behind you when they call you. Ride straight on to me with the\nfruit, and do not look behind you. If you do, you will become stone,\nand your horse too, and they will take the b\u00e9l-fruit back to its\ntree.\"\n\nThe prince promised to do all the fak\u00edr bade him. He rode for a week,\nand then he came to the fairies' country. He blew the earth the fak\u00edr\nhad given him away from his palm all along his fingers, just as he had\nbeen told, and then he became invisible. He rode through the great\ngarden to the plain. There he saw the b\u00e9l-tree, and the one fruit\nhanging all alone. He threw the fak\u00edr's stick at it, and caught it in\na corner of his shawl as it fell, but then he was no longer invisible.\nAll the fairies and demons could see him, and they came running after\nhim as he rode quickly away, and called to him. He looked behind at\nthem, and instantly he and his horse became stone; and the b\u00e9l-fruit\nwent back to its tree and hung itself up.\n\nFor one week the fak\u00edr sat in his jungle, waiting for the King's son.\nBut the moment he was turned into stone, the fak\u00edr knew of it, and he\nset off at once for the fairies' country. He walked all through it,\nbut neither the fairies nor demons could touch him. He went straight\nto the great plain, and there he saw the King's son sitting on his\nhorse, and both he and the horse were stone.\n\nThis made the fak\u00edr very sad; and he said to God, \"What will the\nfather and mother do, now that their son is changed into a stone?\" And\nhe prayed to God and said, \"If it be God's pleasure, may this King's\nson be alive once more.\" Then he cut his little finger on the inside\nfrom the tip to the palm, and smeared the prince's forehead with the\nblood that came from it. He rubbed some blood on the horse too, all\nthe time praying to God to give the prince his life again. The King's\nson and his horse were alive once more. The fak\u00edr took the prince back\nto his jungle, and said to him, \"Listen. I told you not to look behind\nyou, and you disobeyed me and so were turned to stone. Had I not come\nto save you, you would always have remained stone.\"\n\nThe fak\u00edr kept the prince with him in the jungle for one whole week.\nThen he gave him his stick and some earth he picked up from the ground\non which they were standing, and said, \"Now you must go to the\nfairies' country again, and throw my stick at the b\u00e9l-fruit, and catch\nit in a corner of your shawl as you did before. But mind, mind you do\nnot look behind you this time. If you do you will be turned to stone,\nand you will for ever remain stone. Ride straight back to me with the\nfruit, and take care never to look behind you once till you get to\nme.\"\n\nSo the King's son went again to the fairies' country, and all happened\nas before, till he had caught the fruit in his shawl. But then he rode\nstraight back to the fak\u00edr without looking behind him, although the\nfairies and demons ran after him and called to him the whole way.\n\nHe rode so fast they could not catch him, and when he came to the\nfak\u00edr, the fak\u00edr turned him into a fly and thus hid him. Up came all\nthe fairies and demons and said to the fak\u00edr, \"There is a thief in\nyour hut.\" \"A thief! Where is the thief?\" said the fak\u00edr. \"Look\neverywhere for him, and take him away if you can find him.\" Then they\nsearched and searched everywhere, but could not find the prince; so at\nlast they went away.\n\nWhen they had all gone, the fak\u00edr took the little fly and turned it\nback into a King's son. A few days afterwards he said to the prince,\n\"Now you have found what you wanted; you have the B\u00e9l-Princess you\ncame to seek. So go back to your father and mother.\" \"Very well,\" said\nthe prince. Then he got his horse all ready for the journey, took the\nb\u00e9l-fruit, and made many salaams to the fak\u00edr, who said to him, \"Now,\nlisten. Take care not to open the fruit on the road. Wait till you are\nin your father's house with your father and mother, and then open it.\nIf you do not do exactly as I tell you, evil will happen to you; so\nmind you only open the fruit in your father's house. Out of it will\ncome the B\u00e9l-Princess.\"\n\nThe prince set out on his journey, and rode on and on for six months\ntill he came to his father's country, and then to his father's garden.\nThere he sat down to rest by a well under a clump of great trees. He\nsaid to himself, \"Now that I am in my father's country, and in my\nfather's garden, I will sit and rest in this cool shade; and when I am\nrested I will go up to the palace.\" He bathed his face and his hands\nin the well, and drank some of its water. Then he thought, \"Surely,\nnow that I am in my father's country and in his garden, I need not\nwait till I get to his palace to open my b\u00e9l-fruit. What harm can\nhappen if I do open it here?\"\n\nSo he broke it open, in spite of all the fak\u00edr had told him, and out\nof it came such a beautiful girl. She was more beautiful than any\nprincess that ever was seen--so beautiful that the King's son fainted\nwhen he saw her. The princess fanned him, and poured water on his\nface, and presently he recovered, and said to her, \"Princess, I should\nlike to sleep for a little while, for I have travelled for six months,\nand am very tired. After I have slept we will go together to my\nfather's palace.\" So he went to sleep, and the princess sat by him.\n\nPresently a woman came to the well for water, and she said to herself,\n\"See, here is the King's youngest son. What a lovely princess that is\nsitting by him! What fine clothes and jewels she has on!\" And the\nwicked woman determined to kill the princess and to take her place.\nThen she came up to the beautiful girl, and sat down beside her, and\ntalked to her. \"Listen to me, princess,\" she said at last. \"Let us\nchange clothes with each other. Give me yours, and I will give you\nmine.\" The princess, thinking no harm, did as the woman suggested.\n\"And now,\" said the woman, \"let me put on your beautiful jewels.\" The\nprincess gave them to her, and then the wicked, wicked woman, said to\nher, \"Let us walk about this pretty garden, and look at the flowers,\nand amuse ourselves.\" By and by she said, \"Princess, let us go and\nlook at ourselves in the well, and see what we look like, you in my\nclothes, and I in yours.\" The young girl consented, and they went to\nthe well. As they bent over the side to look in, the wicked woman gave\nthe princess a push, and pushed her straight over the edge into the\nwater.\n\nThen she went and sat down by the sleeping prince, just as the\nprincess had done. When he awoke and saw this ugly, wicked woman,\ninstead of his B\u00e9l-Princess, he was very much surprised, and said to\nhimself, \"A little while ago I had a beautiful girl by me, and now\nthere is such an ugly woman. It is true she has on the clothes and\njewels my B\u00e9l-Princess wore; but she is so ugly, and there is\nsomething wrong with one of her eyes. What has happened to her?\" Then\nhe said to this wicked woman, whom he took for his B\u00e9l-Princess,\n\"What is the matter with you? Has anything happened to you? Why have\nyou become so ugly?\" She answered, \"Till now I have always lived in a\nb\u00e9l-fruit. It is the bad air of your country that has made me ugly,\nand hurt one of my eyes.\"\n\nThe prince was ashamed of her, and very, very sorry. \"How shall I take\nher to my father's palace now?\" he thought. \"My mother and all my\nbrothers' wives will see her, and what will they say? However, never\nmind; I must take her to my house, and marry her. I cannot think what\ncan have happened to her.\" Then he got a palanquin, and took her up to\nthe palace.\n\nHis father and mother were very glad that their youngest son had come\nback to them; but when they saw the wicked woman, and heard she was\nhis B\u00e9l-Princess, they, and every one else in the palace, said, \"Can\nshe be a B\u00e9l-Princess? She is not at all pretty, and she is not at all\npleasant.\" \"She was lovely when she came out of the fruit,\" said the\nprince. \"No one ever saw such a beautiful girl before. I cannot think\nwhat has happened to her. It must be the bad air of this country that\nhas made her so ugly.\" Then he told them all about his journey to the\njungle where he had met the fak\u00edr, and how, with the fak\u00edr's help, he\nhad found his B\u00e9l-Princess, and how he had opened the fruit in his\nfather's garden, and then fallen asleep.\n\nThe King made a great wedding-feast for his son, and he and the wicked\nwoman were married, and all the time the King's youngest son thought\nhe was marrying the B\u00e9l-Princess.\n\nMeanwhile, the beautiful girl had not been drowned in the well, but\nhad changed into a most lovely pink lotus-flower. This flower was\nfirst seen by a man from the village who came to the well for water.\n\"What a lovely lotus-flower!\" said the man; \"I must gather it.\" But\nwhen he tried to reach it the flower floated away from him. Then he\nwent and told all the people in the village of the beautiful flower,\nand then the palace servants heard of it. They all tried to gather it,\nbut could not, for the flower always went just out of their reach.\nThen the King and his six elder sons heard of it, and they came to the\nwell; but the King tried in vain to gather it, and his six sons too.\nThe lotus-flower always floated away from them.\n\nLast of all, the youngest prince heard of the lotus, and he grew very\ncurious to see it, and said, \"I will try if I cannot gather this\nwonderful flower that no one can touch.\" So he, too, came to the well,\nand stooped, and stretched out his hand, and the minute he did so the\nflower floated of itself into his hand.\n\nThen he was very happy and proud, and he took the flower up to his\nwife and showed it to her. \"Just see,\" he said, \"every one in the\nvillage and the palace were talking of this lotus-flower; and every\none tried to gather it; and no one could, for the flower would not let\nany one touch it. My father tried, and my brothers all tried, and\nthey, too, could not gather it; but as soon as I stretched out my hand\nthe flower floated into it of itself.\"\n\nWhen his wicked wife saw the flower, she said nothing; but her heart\ntold her it was the beautiful girl she had pushed into the well. The\nprince laid the flower on his pillow, and was very glad and happy. As\nsoon as he had gone out, his wife seized the lotus-flower, tore it to\nbits, and threw them far away into the garden.\n\nIn a few days a b\u00e9l-tree was growing on the spot where she had thrown\nthe pieces of the lotus-flower. On it grew one big b\u00e9l-fruit, and it\nwas so fine and large that every one in the village and the palace\ntried to gather it; but no one could touch it, for the fruit always\nwent just out of reach. The King and his six elder sons also tried,\nbut they could not touch it. The youngest prince heard of this fruit,\nso he said to his wife, \"I will go and see if I can gather this\nb\u00e9l-fruit that no one can even touch.\" The wicked woman's heart said\nto her, \"In the b\u00e9l-fruit is the B\u00e9l-Princess;\" but she said nothing.\n\nThe prince went to the b\u00e9l-tree; the b\u00e9l-fruit came into his hand, and\nhe broke it off the tree, and brought it home to his wife. \"See,\" he\nsaid, \"here is the b\u00e9l-fruit; it let me gather it at once.\" And he was\nvery proud and happy. Then he laid the fruit on a table in his room.\n\nWhen he had gone out the wicked wife came, and took the fruit, and\nflung it away in the garden. In the night the fruit burst in two, and\nin it lay a lovely, tiny girl baby. The gardener, as he went round the\ngarden early in the morning, found the little baby; and he wondered\nwho had thrown away the beautiful fruit, and who the lovely baby girl\ncould be. She was so tiny and so pretty, and the gardener was\ndelighted when he saw her, for he had no children, and thought God had\nsent him a little child at last.\n\nHe took her in his arms and carried her to his wife.\n\n\"See,\" he said, \"we have never had any children, and now God has sent\nus this beautiful little girl.\" His wife looked at the child, and she\nwas as delighted with her as her husband was. \"Yes,\" she said, \"God\nhas sent us this child, and she is certainly most beautiful. I am very\nhappy. But I have no milk for her; if only I had milk for her, I could\nnurse her and she would live.\" And the gardener's wife was very sad to\nthink she had no milk in her breasts for the little child.\n\nThen her husband said, \"Let us ask God to send you milk for her.\" So\nthey prayed to God and worshipped him. And God was pleased with them\nboth, and sent the gardener's wife a great deal of milk.\n\nThe little girl now lived in the gardener's house, and he and his wife\ntook the greatest care of her, and were very happy to think they had\nnow a child. She grew very fast, and became lovelier every day. She\nwas more beautiful than any girl that had ever been seen, and all the\npeople in the King's country used to say, \"How lovely the gardener's\ndaughter is! She is more beautiful than any princess.\"\n\nThe King's youngest son's wicked wife heard of the child, and her\nheart told her, \"She is the B\u00e9l-Princess.\" She said nothing, but she\noften thought of how she could contrive to have her killed.\n\nOne day, when the gardener's daughter was seven years old, she was out\nin her father's garden, making a little garden of her own near the\nhouse-door. While she was busy over her flowers, the wicked woman's\ncow strayed into the garden and began eating the plants in it. The\nlittle girl would not let it make its dinner off her father's flowers\nand grass, but pushed it out of the garden.\n\nThe wicked woman was told how the gardener's daughter had treated her\ncow; so she cried all day long, and pretended to be ill. When her\nhusband asked her what was the matter, she answered, \"I am sick\nbecause the gardener's daughter has ill-treated my cow. She beat it,\nand turned it out of her father's garden, and said many wicked things.\nIf you will have the girl killed, I shall live; but if you do not kill\nher, I shall die.\" The prince at once ordered his servants to take the\ngardener's daughter the next morning to the jungle, and there kill\nher.\n\nSo the next morning early the servants went to the gardener's house to\ntake away his daughter. He and his wife cried bitterly, and begged the\nservants to leave the girl with them. They offered them a great many\nrupees, saying, \"Take these rupees, and leave us our daughter.\" \"How\ncan we leave you your daughter,\" said the servants, \"when the King's\nyoungest son has ordered us to take her to the jungle and kill her,\nthat his wife may get well?\"\n\nSo they led the girl away; and as they went to the jungle, they said\nto each other, \"How beautiful this girl is!\" They found her so\nbeautiful that they grew very sorrowful at the thought of killing her.\n\nThey took the girl to a great plain, which was about ten miles distant\nfrom the King's country; but when they got there they said they could\nnot kill her. She was so beautiful that they really could not kill\nher. She said to them, \"You were ordered to kill me, so kill me.\"\n\"No,\" they answered, \"we cannot kill you, we cannot kill you.\"\n\nThen the girl took the knife in her own hand and cut out her two eyes;\nand one eye became a parrot, and the other a _main\u00e1_. Then she cut out\nher heart and it became a great tank. Her body became a splendid\npalace and garden--a far grander palace than was the King's palace;\nher arms and legs became the pillars that supported the verandah roof;\nand her head the dome on the top of the palace.\n\nThe prince's servants looked on all the time these changes were taking\nplace, and they were so frightened by them, that when they got home\nthey would not tell the prince or any one else what they had seen. No\none lived in this wonderful house. It stood empty in its garden by its\ntank, and the parrot and _main\u00e1_ lived in the garden trees.\n\nSome time afterwards the youngest prince went out hunting, and towards\nevening he found himself on the great plain where stood the wonderful\npalace. He rode up to it and said to himself, \"I never saw any house\nhere before. I wonder who lives here?\" He went through the great gate\ninto the garden, and then he saw the large tank, and how beautiful the\ngarden was. He went all through the garden and was delighted with it,\nand he saw that it was beautifully kept, and was in perfect order.\nThen he went into the palace, and went through all the rooms, and\nwondered more and more to whom this beautiful house could belong. He\nwas very much surprised, too, at finding no one in the palace, though\nthe rooms were all splendidly furnished, and very clean and neat.\n\n\"My father is a great king,\" he said to himself, \"and yet he has not\ngot a palace like this.\" It was now deep night, so the prince knew he\ncould not go home till the next day. \"Never mind,\" he said, \"I will\nsleep in the verandah. I am not afraid, though I shall be quite\nalone.\"\n\nSo he lay down to sleep in the verandah, and while he lay there, the\nparrot and _main\u00e1_ flew in, and they perched near him, for they knew\nhe was there, and they wanted him to hear what they said to each\nother. Then they began chattering together; and the parrot told the\n_main\u00e1_ how the prince's father was king of the neighbouring country,\nand how he had seven sons, and how six of the sons had married six\nprincesses, \"but this prince, who was the youngest son, would not\nmarry; and what is more, he did not like his brother's wives at all.\"\nThen the birds stopped talking and did not chatter any more that\nnight. The prince was very much surprised at the birds knowing who he\nwas, and all about his dislike to his brothers' wives.\n\nThe next morning he rode home; and there he stayed all day, and would\nnot talk. His wife asked him, \"What is the matter with you? Why are\nyou so silent?\" \"My head aches,\" he answered: \"I am ill.\" But towards\nevening he felt he must go back to the empty palace on the great\nplain, so he said to his wife, \"I am going out to eat the air for a\nlittle while.\" Then he got on his horse and rode off to the palace.\n\nAs soon as he had laid himself down in the verandah, the parrot and\nthe _main\u00e1_ perched near him; and the parrot told the _main\u00e1_ how the\nprince had heard of the B\u00e9l-Princess; and all about his long journey\nin search of her, and how he found the b\u00e9l-fruit, and how he was\nturned to stone. Then he stopped chattering, and the birds said\nnothing more to each other that night.\n\nIn the morning the King's son rode home, and was as silent and grave\nas he had been before. He told his wife his head ached when she asked\nhim whether he was ill.\n\nThat night he again slept in the verandah of the strange palace, and\nheard a little more of his story from the birds.\n\nThe next day he was still silent and grave, and his wife was very\nuneasy. \"I am sure the B\u00e9l-Princess is alive,\" she said to herself,\n\"and that he goes every night to see her.\" Then she asked him, \"Why do\nyou go out every evening? Why do you not stay at home?\" \"I am not\nwell,\" he answered, \"so I go to my mother's house\" (the prince had a\nlittle house of his own in his father's compound). \"I will not sleep\nat home again till I am well.\"\n\nThat night he lay down to sleep again in the verandah of the great\nempty palace, and heard the parrot tell the _main\u00e1_ all that happened\nto the prince up to the time that he fell asleep in his father's\ngarden with the beautiful B\u00e9l-Princess sitting beside him.\n\nOn the fifth night the prince lay down to sleep again in the verandah\nof the palace on the great plain, and watched eagerly for the little\nbirds to begin their talk. This night the parrot told how the wicked\nwoman had come and taken the B\u00e9l-Princess's clothes, and thrown her\ndown the well; how the princess became a lotus-flower which the wicked\nwife broke to bits; how the bits of the lotus-flower turned into a\nb\u00e9l-fruit which she threw away; how out of the fruit came a tiny\ngirl-baby that the gardener adopted; how the wicked woman persuaded\nthe prince to have this girl killed when she was seven years old; how\nhe and the _main\u00e1_ had once been this girl's eyes; how the tank was\nonce her heart, and how her body had changed into this palace and\ngarden, while her head became the dome on the top of the palace.\n\nThen the _main\u00e1_ asked the parrot where the B\u00e9l-Princess was. \"Cannot\nshe be found?\" said the _main\u00e1_. \"Yes,\" said the parrot, \"she can be\nfound; but the King's youngest son alone can find her, and he is so\nfoolish! He believes that his ugly, wicked wife is the beautiful\nB\u00e9l-Princess!\" \"And where is the princess?\" asked the _main\u00e1_. \"She is\nhere,\" said the parrot. \"If the prince would come one day and go\nthrough all the rooms of this palace till he came to the centre room,\nhe would see a trap-door in the middle of that room. If he lifted the\ntrap-door he would see a staircase which leads to an underground\npalace, and in this palace is the B\u00e9l-princess.\" \"And can no one but\nthe prince lift the trap-door?\" asked the _main\u00e1_. \"No one,\" answered\nthe parrot. \"It is God's order that only the King's youngest son can\nlift the trap-door and find the B\u00e9l-Princess.\"\n\nThe next day the young prince went through all the rooms of the\npalace, instead of going home. When he came to the centre room, he\nlooked for the trap-door, and when he had lifted it he saw the\nstaircase. He went down it, and found himself in the under-ground\npalace, which was far more beautiful than the one above-ground. It was\nfull of servants; and in one room a grand dinner was standing ready.\nIn another room he saw a gold bed, all covered with pearls and\ndiamonds, and on the bed lay the B\u00e9l-Princess.\n\nDay and night she prayed to God and read a holy book. She did nothing\nelse.\n\nWhen the prince went into her room and she saw him, she was very sad,\nnot happy, for she thought, \"He is so foolish; he knows nothing of\nwhat has happened to me.\" Then she said to him, \"Why did you come\nhere? Go home again to your father's palace.\"\n\nThe prince burst out crying. \"See, princess,\" he said, \"I knew nothing\nof your palace. I only found it by chance five nights ago. I have\nslept here in the verandah for the last five nights, and only last\nnight did I learn what had happened to you, and how to find you.\" \"I\nknow it is true,\" she said, \"that you knew nothing of what happened to\nme. But now that you have found me, what will you do?\"\n\n\"I will go home to my father's palace,\" he answered, \"and make\neverything ready for you, and then I will come and marry you and take\nyou home.\"\n\nSo it was all settled, and he ate some food, and returned to his\nfather. He told his father and mother all that had happened to the\nB\u00e9l-Princess, and how her body had turned into the beautiful garden\nand palace that stood on the big plain; and of the little birds; and\nof the underground palace in which she now lived. So his father said\nthat he and the prince's mother, and his six brothers and their wives,\nwould all take him in great state to the palace and marry him to the\nbeautiful B\u00e9l-Princess; and that then they would all return to their\nown palace, and all live together. \"But first the wicked woman must be\nkilled,\" said the King.\n\nSo he ordered his servants to take her to the jungle and kill her, and\nthrow her body away. So they took her away at four o'clock in the\nafternoon and killed her.\n\nOne morning two or three days later, the prince and his father and\nmother, and brothers and sisters-in-law, went to the great palace on\nthe wide plain; and there, in the evening, the king's youngest son was\nmarried to the B\u00e9l-Princess. And when his father and mother and\nbrothers, and his brothers' wives, saw her, they all said, \"It is\nquite true. She is indeed a B\u00e9l-Princess!\"\n\nAfter the wedding they all returned to the King's palace, and there\nthey lived together. But the King and his sons used often to go to the\npalace on the great plain to eat the air; and they used to lend it\nsometimes to other r\u00e1j\u00e1s and kings.\n\n Told by M\u00faniy\u00e1.\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXXII.\n\nHOW THE R\u00c1J\u00c1'S SON WON THE PRINCESS LAB\u00c1M.\n\n\nIn a country there was a R\u00e1j\u00e1 who had an only son who every day went\nout to hunt. One day the R\u00e1n\u00ed, his mother, said to him, \"You can hunt\nwherever you like on these three sides; but you must never go to the\nfourth side.\" This she said because she knew if he went on the fourth\nside he would hear of the beautiful Princess Lab\u00e1m, and that then he\nwould leave his father and mother and seek for the princess.\n\nThe young prince listened to his mother, and obeyed her for some time;\nbut one day, when he was hunting on the three sides where he was\nallowed to go, he remembered what she had said to him about the fourth\nside, and he determined to go and see why she had forbidden him to\nhunt on that side. When he got there, he found himself in a jungle,\nand nothing in the jungle but a quantity of parrots, who lived in it.\nThe young R\u00e1j\u00e1 shot at some of them, and at once they all flew away up\nto the sky. All, that is, but one, and this was their R\u00e1j\u00e1, who was\ncalled H\u00edr\u00e1man parrot.\n\nWhen H\u00edr\u00e1man parrot found himself left alone, he called out to the\nother parrots, \"Don't fly away and leave me alone when the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son\nshoots. If you desert me like this, I will tell the Princess Lab\u00e1m.\"\n\nThen the parrots all flew back to their R\u00e1j\u00e1, chattering. The prince\nwas greatly surprised, and said, \"Why, these birds can talk!\" Then he\nsaid to the parrots, \"Who is the Princess Lab\u00e1m? Where does she live?\"\nBut the parrots would not tell him where she lived. \"You can never\nget to the Princess Lab\u00e1m's country.\" That is all they would say.\n\nThe prince grew very sad when they would not tell him anything more;\nand he threw his gun away, and went home. When he got home, he would\nnot speak or eat, but lay on his bed for four or five days, and seemed\nvery ill.\n\nAt last he told his father and mother that he wanted to go and see the\nPrincess Lab\u00e1m. \"I must go,\" he said; \"I must see what she is like.\nTell me where her country is.\" \"We do not know where it is,\" answered\nhis father and mother. \"Then I must go and look for it,\" said the\nprince. \"No, no,\" they said, \"you must not leave us. You are our only\nson. Stay with us. You will never find the Princess Lab\u00e1m.\" \"I must\ntry and find her,\" said the prince. \"Perhaps God will show me the way.\nIf I live and I find her, I will come back to you; but perhaps I shall\ndie, and then I shall never see you again. Still I must go.\"\n\nSo they had to let him go, though they cried very much at parting with\nhim. His father gave him fine clothes to wear, and a fine horse. And\nhe took his gun, and his bow and arrows, and a great many other\nweapons, \"for,\" he said, \"I may want them.\" His father, too, gave him\nplenty of rupees.\n\nThen he himself got his horse all ready for the journey, and he said\ngood-bye to his father and mother; and his mother took her\nhandkerchief and wrapped some sweetmeats in it, and gave it to her\nson. \"My child,\" she said to him, \"when you are hungry eat some of\nthese sweetmeats.\"\n\nHe then set out on his journey, and rode on and on till he came to a\njungle in which were a tank and shady trees. He bathed himself and his\nhorse in the tank, and then sat down under a tree. \"Now,\" he said to\nhimself, \"I will eat some of the sweetmeats my mother gave me, and I\nwill drink some water, and then I will continue my journey.\" He\nopened his handkerchief, and took out a sweetmeat. He found an ant in\nit. He took out another. There was an ant in that one too. So he laid\nthe two sweetmeats on the ground, and he took out another, and\nanother, and another, until he had taken them all out; but in each he\nfound an ant. \"Never mind,\" he said, \"I won't eat the sweetmeats; the\nants shall eat them.\" Then the Ant-R\u00e1j\u00e1 came and stood before him and\nsaid, \"You have been good to us. If ever you are in trouble, think of\nme and we will come to you.\"\n\nThe R\u00e1j\u00e1's son thanked him, mounted his horse and continued his\njourney. He rode on and on till he came to another jungle, and there\nhe saw a tiger who had a thorn in his foot, and was roaring loudly\nfrom the pain.\n\n\"Why do you roar like that?\" said the young R\u00e1j\u00e1. \"What is the matter\nwith you?\" \"I have had a thorn in my foot for twelve years,\" answered\nthe tiger, \"and it hurts me so; that is why I roar.\" \"Well,\" said the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1's son, \"I will take it out for you. But, perhaps, as you are a\ntiger, when I have made you well, you will eat me?\" \"Oh, no,\" said the\ntiger, \"I won't eat you. Do make me well.\"\n\nThen the prince took a little knife from his pocket, and cut the thorn\nout of the tiger's foot; but when he cut, the tiger roared louder than\never, so loud that his wife heard him in the next jungle, and came\nbounding along to see what was the matter. The tiger saw her coming,\nand hid the prince in the jungle, so that she should not see him.\n\n\"What man hurt you that you roared so loud?\" said the wife. \"No one\nhurt me,\" answered her husband; \"but a R\u00e1j\u00e1's son came and took the\nthorn out of my foot.\" \"Where is he? Show him to me,\" said his wife.\n\"If you promise not to kill him, I will call him,\" said the tiger. \"I\nwon't kill him; only let me see him,\" answered his wife.\n\nThen the tiger called the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son, and when he came the tiger and\nhis wife made him a great many salaams. Then they gave him a good\ndinner, and he stayed with them for three days. Every day he looked at\nthe tiger's foot, and the third day it was quite healed. Then he said\ngood-bye to the tigers, and the tiger said to him, \"If ever you are in\ntrouble, think of me, and we will come to you.\"\n\nThe R\u00e1j\u00e1's son rode on and on till he came to a third jungle. Here he\nfound four fak\u00edrs whose teacher and master had died, and had left four\nthings,--a bed, which carried whoever sat on it whithersoever he\nwished to go; a bag, that gave its owner whatever he wanted, jewels,\nfood, or clothes; a stone bowl that gave its owner as much water as he\nwanted, no matter how far he might be from a tank; and a stick and\nrope, to which its owner had only to say, if any one came to make war\non him, \"Stick, beat as many men and soldiers as are here,\" and the\nstick would beat them and the rope would tie them up.\n\nThe four fak\u00edrs were quarrelling over these four things. One said, \"I\nwant this;\" another said, \"You cannot have it, for I want it;\" and so\non.\n\nThe R\u00e1j\u00e1's son said to them, \"Do not quarrel for these things. I will\nshoot four arrows in four different directions. Whichever of you gets\nto my first arrow, shall have the first thing--the bed. Whosoever gets\nto the second arrow, shall have the second thing--the bag. He who gets\nto the third arrow, shall have the third thing--the bowl. And he who\ngets to the fourth arrow, shall have the last things--the stick and\nrope.\" To this they agreed, and the prince shot off his first arrow.\nAway raced the fak\u00edrs to get it. When they brought it back to him he\nshot off the second, and when they had found and brought it to him he\nshot off his third, and when they had brought him the third he shot\noff the fourth.\n\nWhile they were away looking for the fourth arrow, the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son let\nhis horse loose in the jungle, and sat on the bed, taking the bowl,\nthe stick and rope, and the bag with him. Then he said, \"Bed, I wish\nto go to the Princess Lab\u00e1m's country.\" The little bed instantly rose\nup into the air and began to fly, and it flew and flew till it came to\nthe Princess Lab\u00e1m's country, where it settled on the ground. The\nR\u00e1j\u00e1's son asked some men he saw, \"Whose country is this?\" \"The\nPrincess Lab\u00e1m's country,\" they answered. Then the prince went on till\nhe came to a house where he saw an old woman. \"Who are you?\" she said.\n\"Where do you come from?\" \"I come from a far country,\" he said; \"do\nlet me stay with you to-night.\" \"No,\" she answered, \"I cannot let you\nstay with me; for our king has ordered that men from other countries\nmay not stay in his country. You cannot stay in my house.\" \"You are my\naunty,\" said the prince; \"let me remain with you for this one night.\nYou see it is evening, and if I go into the jungle, then the wild\nbeasts will eat me.\" \"Well,\" said the old woman, \"you may stay here\nto-night; but to-morrow morning you must go away, for if the king\nhears you have passed the night in my house, he will have me seized\nand put into prison.\"\n\nThen she took him into her house, and the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son was very glad.\nThe old woman began preparing dinner, but he stopped her. \"Aunty,\" he\nsaid, \"I will give you food.\" He put his hand into his bag, saying,\n\"Bag, I want some dinner,\" and the bag gave him instantly a delicious\ndinner, served upon two gold plates. The old woman and the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son\nthen dined together.\n\nWhen they had finished eating, the old woman said, \"Now I will fetch\nsome water.\" \"Don't go,\" said the prince. \"You shall have plenty of\nwater directly.\" So he took his bowl and said to it, \"Bowl, I want\nsome water,\" and then it filled with water. When it was full, the\nprince cried out, \"Stop, bowl,\" and the bowl stopped filling. \"See,\naunty,\" he said, \"with this bowl I can always get as much water as I\nwant.\"\n\nBy this time night had come. \"Aunty,\" said the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son, \"why don't\nyou light a lamp?\" \"There is no need,\" she said. \"Our king has\nforbidden the people in his country to light any lamps; for, as soon\nas it is dark, his daughter, the Princess Lab\u00e1m, comes and sits on her\nroof, and she shines so, that she lights up all the country and our\nhouses, and we can see to do our work as if it were day.\"\n\nWhen it was quite black night, the princess got up. She dressed\nherself in her rich clothes and jewels, and rolled up her hair, and\nacross her head she put a band of diamonds and pearls. Then she shone\nlike the moon, and her beauty made night day. She came out of her\nroom, and sat on the roof of her palace. In the daytime she never came\nout of her house; she only came out at night. All the people in her\nfather's country then went about their work and finished it.\n\nThe R\u00e1j\u00e1's son watched the princess quietly, and was very happy. He\nsaid to himself, \"How lovely she is!\"\n\nAt midnight, when everybody had gone to bed, the princess came down\nfrom her roof, and went to her room; and when she was in bed and\nasleep, the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son got up softly, and sat on his bed. \"Bed,\" he\nsaid to it, \"I want to go to the Princess Lab\u00e1m's bed-room.\" So the\nlittle bed carried him to the room where she lay fast asleep.\n\nThe young R\u00e1j\u00e1 took his bag and said, \"I want a great deal of\nbetel-leaf,\" and it at once gave him quantities of betel-leaf. This he\nlaid near the princess's bed, and then his little bed carried him back\nto the old woman's house.\n\nNext morning all the princess's servants found the betel-leaf, and\nbegan to eat it. \"Where did you get all that betel-leaf?\" asked the\nprincess. \"We found it near your bed,\" answered the servants. Nobody\nknew the prince had come in the night and put it all there.\n\nIn the morning the old woman came to the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son. \"Now it is\nmorning,\" she said, \"and you must go; for if the king finds out all I\nhave done for you, he will seize me.\" \"I am ill to-day, dear aunty,\"\nsaid the prince; \"do let me stay till to-morrow morning.\" \"Good,\" said\nthe old woman. So he stayed, and they took their dinner out of the\nbag, and the bowl gave them water.\n\nWhen night came the princess got up and sat on her roof, and at twelve\no'clock, when every one was in bed, she went to her bed-room, and was\nsoon fast asleep. Then the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son sat on his bed, and it carried\nhim to the princess. He took his bag and said, \"Bag, I want a most\nlovely shawl.\" It gave him a splendid shawl, and he spread it over the\nprincess as she lay asleep. Then he went back to the old woman's house\nand slept till morning.\n\nIn the morning, when the princess saw the shawl, she was delighted.\n\"See, mother,\" she said; \"God must have given me this shawl, it is so\nbeautiful.\" Her mother was very glad too. \"Yes, my child,\" she said;\n\"God must have given you this splendid shawl.\"\n\nWhen it was morning the old woman said to the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son, \"Now you\nmust really go.\" \"Aunty,\" he answered, \"I am not well enough yet. Let\nme stay a few days longer. I will remain hidden in your house, so that\nno one may see me.\" So the old woman let him stay.\n\nWhen it was black night, the princess put on her lovely clothes and\njewels, and sat on her roof. At midnight she went to her room and went\nto sleep. Then the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son sat on his bed and flew to her bed-room.\nThere he said to his bag, \"Bag, I want a very, very beautiful ring.\"\nThe bag gave him a glorious ring. Then he took the Princess Lab\u00e1m's\nhand gently to put on the ring, and she started up very much\nfrightened.\n\n\"Who are you?\" she said to the prince. \"Where do you come from? Why do\nyou come to my room?\" \"Do not be afraid, princess,\" he said; \"I am no\nthief. I am a great R\u00e1j\u00e1's son. H\u00edr\u00e1man parrot, who lives in the\njungle where I went to hunt, told me your name, and then I left my\nfather and mother, and came to see you.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the princess, \"as you are the son of such a great R\u00e1j\u00e1, I\nwill not have you killed, and I will tell my father and mother that I\nwish to marry you.\"\n\nThe prince then returned to the old woman's house; and when morning\ncame, the princess said to her mother, \"The son of a great R\u00e1j\u00e1 has\ncome to this country, and I wish to marry him.\" Her mother told this\nto the king. \"Good,\" said the king; \"but if this R\u00e1j\u00e1's son wishes to\nmarry my daughter, he must first do whatever I bid him. If he fails I\nwill kill him. I will give him eighty pounds weight of mustard seed,\nand out of this he must crush the oil in one day. If he cannot do this\nhe shall die.\"\n\nIn the morning the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son told the old woman that he intended to\nmarry the princess. \"Oh,\" said the old woman, \"go away from this\ncountry, and do not think of marrying her. A great many R\u00e1j\u00e1s and\nR\u00e1j\u00e1s' sons have come here to marry her, and her father has had them\nall killed. He says whoever wishes to marry his daughter must first do\nwhatever he bids him. If he can, then he shall marry the princess; if\nhe cannot, the king will have him killed. But no one can do the things\nthe king tells him to do; so all the R\u00e1j\u00e1s and R\u00e1j\u00e1s' sons who have\ntried have been put to death. You will be killed too, if you try. Do\ngo away.\" But the prince would not listen to anything she said.\n\nThe king sent for the prince to the old woman's house, and his\nservants brought the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son to the king's court-house to the king.\nThere the king gave him eighty pounds of mustard seed, and told him to\ncrush all the oil out of it that day, and bring it next morning to him\nto the court-house. \"Whoever wishes to marry my daughter,\" he said to\nthe prince, \"must first do all I tell him. If he cannot, then I have\nhim killed. So if you cannot crush all the oil out of this mustard\nseed, you will die.\"\n\nThe prince was very sorry when he heard this. \"How can I crush the oil\nout of all this mustard seed in one day?\" he said to himself; \"and if\nI do not, the king will kill me.\" He took the mustard seed to the old\nwoman's house, and did not know what to do. At last he remembered the\nAnt-R\u00e1j\u00e1, and the moment he did so, the Ant-R\u00e1j\u00e1 and his ants came to\nhim. \"Why do you look so sad?\" said the Ant-R\u00e1j\u00e1. The prince showed\nhim the mustard seed, and said to him, \"How can I crush the oil out of\nall this mustard seed in one day? And if I do not take the oil to the\nking to-morrow morning, he will kill me.\" \"Be happy,\" said the\nAnt-R\u00e1j\u00e1; \"lie down and sleep: we will crush all the oil out for you\nduring the day, and to-morrow morning you shall take it to the king.\"\nThe R\u00e1j\u00e1's son lay down and slept, and the ants crushed out the oil\nfor him. The prince was very glad when he saw the oil.\n\nThe next morning he took it to the court-house to the king. But the\nking said, \"You cannot yet marry my daughter. If you wish to do so,\nyou must first fight with my two demons and kill them.\" The king a\nlong time ago had caught two demons, and then, as he did not know what\nto do with them, he had shut them up in a cage. He was afraid to let\nthem loose for fear they would eat up all the people in his country;\nand he did not know how to kill them. So all the kings and kings' sons\nwho wanted to marry the Princess Lab\u00e1m had to fight with these demons;\n\"for,\" said the king to himself, \"perhaps the demons may be killed,\nand then I shall be rid of them.\"\n\nWhen he heard of the demons the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son was very sad. \"What can I\ndo?\" he said to himself. \"How can I fight with these two demons?\" Then\nhe thought of his tiger: and the tiger and his wife came to him and\nsaid, \"Why are you so sad?\" The R\u00e1j\u00e1's son answered, \"The king has\nordered me to fight with his two demons and kill them. How can I do\nthis?\" \"Do not be frightened,\" said the tiger. \"Be happy. I and my\nwife will fight with them for you.\"\n\nThen the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son took out of his bag two splendid coats. They were\nall gold and silver, and covered with pearls and diamonds. These he\nput on the tigers to make them beautiful, and he took them to the\nking, and said to him, \"May these tigers fight your demons for me?\"\n\"Yes,\" said the king, who did not care in the least who killed his\ndemons, provided they were killed. \"Then call your demons,\" said the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1's son, \"and these tigers will fight them.\" The king did so, and\nthe tigers and the demons fought and fought until the tigers had\nkilled the demons.\n\n\"That is good,\" said the king. \"But you must do something else before\nI give you my daughter. Up in the sky I have a kettle-drum. You must\ngo and beat it. If you cannot do this, I will kill you.\"\n\nThe R\u00e1j\u00e1's son thought of his little bed; so he went to the old\nwoman's house and sat on his bed. \"Little bed,\" he said, \"up in the\nsky is the king's kettle-drum. I want to go to it.\" The bed flew up\nwith him, and the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son beat the drum, and the king heard him.\nStill, when he came down, the king would not give him his daughter.\n\"You have,\" he said to the prince, \"done the three things I told you\nto do; but you must do one thing more.\" \"If I can, I will,\" said the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1's son.\n\nThen the king showed him the trunk of a tree that was lying near his\ncourt-house. It was a very, very thick trunk. He gave the prince a wax\nhatchet, and said, \"To-morrow morning you must cut this trunk in two\nwith this wax hatchet.\"\n\nThe R\u00e1j\u00e1's son went back to the old woman's house. He was very sad,\nand thought that now the R\u00e1j\u00e1 would certainly kill him. \"I had his\noil crushed out by the ants,\" he said to himself. \"I had his demons\nkilled by the tigers. My bed helped me to beat his kettle-drum. But\nnow what can I do? How can I cut that thick tree trunk in two with a\nwax hatchet?\"\n\nAt night he went on his bed to see the princess. \"To-morrow,\" he said\nto her, \"your father will kill me.\" \"Why?\" asked the princess.\n\n\"He has told me to cut a thick tree-trunk in two with a wax hatchet.\nHow can I ever do that?\" said the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son. \"Do not be afraid,\" said\nthe princess; \"do as I bid you, and you will cut it in two quite\neasily.\"\n\nThen she pulled out a hair from her head, and gave it to the prince.\n\"To-morrow,\" she said, \"when no one is near you, you must say to the\ntree-trunk, 'The Princess Lab\u00e1m commands you to let yourself be cut in\ntwo by this hair.' Then stretch the hair down the edge of the wax\nhatchet's blade.\"\n\nThe prince next day did exactly as the princess had told him; and the\nminute the hair that was stretched down the edge of the hatchet-blade\ntouched the tree-trunk, it split into two pieces.\n\nThe king said, \"Now you can marry my daughter.\" Then the wedding took\nplace. All the R\u00e1j\u00e1s and kings of the countries round were asked to\ncome to it, and there were great rejoicings. After a few days the\nprince's son said to his wife, \"Let us go to my father's country.\" The\nPrincess Lab\u00e1m's father gave them a quantity of camels and horses and\nrupees and servants; and they travelled in great state to the prince's\ncountry, where they lived happily.\n\nThe prince always kept his bag, bowl, bed, and stick; only as no one\never came to make war on him, he never needed to use the stick.\n\n Told by M\u00faniy\u00e1.\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXXIII.\n\nTHE PRINCESS WHO LOVED HER FATHER LIKE SALT.\n\n\nIn a country there lived a king who had seven daughters. One day he\ncalled them all to him and said to them, \"My daughters, how much do\nyou love me?\" The six eldest answered, \"Father, we love you as much as\nsweetmeats and sugar;\" but the seventh and youngest daughter said,\n\"Father, I love you as much as salt.\" The king was much pleased with\nhis six eldest daughters, but very angry with his youngest daughter.\n\"What is this?\" he said; \"my daughter only loves me as much as she\ndoes salt!\" Then he called some of his servants, and said to them,\n\"Get a palanquin ready, and carry my youngest daughter away to the\njungle.\"\n\nThe servants did as they were bid; and when they got to the jungle,\nthey put the palanquin down under a tree and went away. The princess\ncalled to them, \"Where are you going? Stay here; my father did not\ntell you to leave me alone in the jungle.\" \"We will come back,\" said\nthe servants; \"we are only going to drink some water.\" But they\nreturned to her father's palace.\n\nThe princess waited in the palanquin under the tree, and it was now\nevening, and the servants had not come back. She was very much\nfrightened and cried bitterly. \"The tigers and wild beasts will eat\nme,\" she said to herself. At last she went to sleep, and slept for a\nlittle while. When she awoke she found in her palanquin some food on a\nplate, and a little water, that God had sent her while she slept. She\nate the food and drank the water, and then she felt happier, for she\nthought, \"God must have sent me this food and water.\" She decided that\nas it was now night she had better stay in her palanquin, and go to\nsleep. \"Perhaps the tigers and wild beasts will come and eat me,\" she\nthought; \"but if they don't, I will try to-morrow to get out of this\njungle, and go to another country.\"\n\nThe next morning she left her palanquin and set out. She walked on,\ntill, deep in the jungle, she came to a beautiful palace, which did\nnot belong to her father, but to another king. The gate was shut, but\nshe opened it, and went in. She looked all about, and thought, \"What a\nbeautiful house this is, and what a pretty garden and tank!\"\n\nEverything was beautiful, only there were no servants nor anybody else\nto be seen. She went into the house, and through all the rooms. In one\nroom she saw a dinner ready to be eaten, but there was no one to eat\nit. At last she came to a room in which was a splendid bed, and on it\nlay a king's son covered with a shawl. She took the shawl off, and\nthen she saw he was very beautiful, and that he was dead. His body was\nstuck full of needles.\n\nShe sat down on the bed, and there she sat for one week, without\neating, or drinking, or sleeping, pulling out the needles. Then a man\ncame by who said to her, \"I have here a girl I wish to sell.\" \"I have\nno rupees,\" said the princess; \"but if you will sell her to me for my\ngold bangles, I will buy her.\" The man took the bangles, and left the\ngirl with the princess, who was very glad to have her. \"Now,\" she\nthought, \"I shall be no longer alone.\"\n\nAll day and all night long the princess sat and pulled out the\nneedles, while the girl went about the palace doing other work. At\nthe end of other two weeks the princess had pulled out all the needles\nfrom the king's body, except those in his eyes.\n\nThen the king's daughter said to her servant-girl, \"For three weeks I\nhave not bathed. Get a bath ready for me, and while I am bathing sit\nby the king, but do not take the needles out of his eyes. I will pull\nthem out myself.\" The servant-girl promised not to pull out the\nneedles. Then she got the bath ready; but when the king's daughter had\ngone to bathe, she sat down on the bed, and pulled the needles out of\nthe king's eyes.\n\nAs soon as she had done so, he opened his eyes, and sat up. He thanked\nGod for bringing him to life again. Then he looked about, and saw the\nservant-girl, and said to her, \"Who has made me well and pulled all\nthe needles out of my body?\" \"I have,\" she answered. Then he thanked\nher and said she should be his wife.\n\nWhen the princess came from her bath, she found the king alive, and\nsitting on his bed talking to her servant. When she saw this she was\nvery sad, but she said nothing. The king said to the servant-maid,\n\"Who is this girl?\" She answered, \"She is one of my servants.\" And\nfrom that moment the princess became a servant-girl, and her\nservant-girl married the king. Every day the king said, \"Can this\nlovely girl be really a servant? She is far more beautiful than my\nwife.\"\n\nOne day the king thought, \"I will go to another country to eat the\nair.\" So he called the pretended princess, his wife, and told her he\nwas going to eat the air in another country. \"What would you like me\nto bring you when I come back?\" She answered, \"I should like beautiful\ns\u00e1r\u00eds and clothes, and gold and silver jewels.\" Then the king said,\n\"Call the servant-girl, and ask her what she would like me to bring\nher.\" The real princess came, and the king said to her, \"See, I am\ngoing to another country to eat the air. What would you like me to\nbring for you when I return?\"\n\n\"King,\" she answered, \"if you can bring me what I want I will tell you\nwhat it is; but if you cannot get it, I will not tell you.\" \"Tell me\nwhat it is,\" said the king. \"Whatever it may be I will bring it you.\"\n\"Good,\" said the princess. \"I want a sun-jewel box.\" Now the princess\nknew all about the sun-jewel boxes, and that only fairies had such\nboxes. And she knew, too, what would be in hers if the king could get\none for her, although these boxes contain sometimes one thing and\nsometimes another.\n\nThe king had never heard of such a box, and did not know what it was\nlike; so he went to every country asking all the people he met what\nsort of box was a sun-jewel box, and where he could get it. At last\none day, after a fruitless search, he was very sad, for he thought, \"I\nhave promised the servant to bring her a sun-jewel box, and now I\ncannot get one for her; what shall I do?\"\n\nThen he went to sleep, and had a dream. In it he saw a jungle, and in\nthe jungle a fak\u00edr who, when he slept, slept for twelve years, and\nthen was awake for twelve years. The king felt sure this man could\ngive him what he wanted, so when he woke he said to his sepoys and\nservants, \"Stay here in this spot till I return to you; then we will\ngo back to my country.\"\n\nHe mounted his horse and set out for the jungle he had seen in his\ndream. He went on and on till he came to it, and there he saw the\nfak\u00edr lying asleep. He had been asleep for twelve years all but two\nweeks: over him were a quantity of leaves, and grass, and a great deal\nof mud. The king began taking off all the grass, and leaves, and mud,\nand every day for a fortnight when he got up he cleared them all away\nfrom off the fak\u00edr. When the fak\u00edr awoke at the end of the two weeks,\nand saw that no mud, or grass, or leaves were upon him, but that he\nwas quite clean, he was very much pleased, and said to the king, \"I\nhave slept for twelve years, and yet I am as clean as I was when I\nwent to sleep. When I awoke after my last sleep, I was all covered\nwith dirt and mud, grass and leaves; but this time I am quite clean.\"\n\nThe king stayed with the fak\u00edr for a week, and waited on him and did\neverything for him. The fak\u00edr was very much pleased with the king, and\nhe told this to him: \"You are a very good man.\" He added, \"Why did you\ncome to this jungle? You are such a great king, what can you want from\nme?\" \"I want a sun-jewel box,\" answered the king. \"You are such a good\nman,\" said the fak\u00edr, \"that I will give you one.\"\n\nThen the fak\u00edr went to a beautiful well, down which he went right to\nthe bottom. There, there was a house in which lived the red fairy. She\nwas called the red fairy not because her skin was red, for it was\nquite white, but because everything about her was red--her house, her\nclothes, and her country. She was very glad to see the fak\u00edr, and\nasked him why he had come to see her. \"I want you to give me a\nsun-jewel box,\" he answered. \"Very good,\" said the fairy, and she\nbrought him one in which were seven small dolls and a little flute.\n\"No one but she who wants this box must open it,\" said the fairy to\nthe fak\u00edr. \"She must open it when she is quite alone and at night.\"\nThen she told him what was in the box.\n\nThe fak\u00edr thanked her, and took the box to the king, who was delighted\nand made many salaams to the fak\u00edr. The fak\u00edr told him none but the\nperson who wished for the box was to open it; but he did not tell him\nwhat more the fairy had said.\n\nThe king set off on his journey now, and when he came to his servants\nand sepoys, he said to them he would now return to his country, as he\nhad found the box he wanted. When he reached his palace he called the\nfalse princess, his wife, and gave her her silks and shawls, and s\u00e1r\u00eds,\nand gold and silver jewels. Then he called the servant-girl--the true\nprincess--and gave her her sun-jewel box. She took it, and was\ndelighted to have it. She made him many salaams and went away with her\nbox, but did not open it then, for she knew what was in it, and that\nshe must open it at night and alone.\n\nThat night she took her box and went out all by herself to a wide\nplain in the jungle, and there opened it. She took the little flute,\nput it to her lips, and began to play, and instantly out flew the\nseven little dolls, who were all little fairies, and they took chairs\nand carpets from the box, and arranged them all in a large tent which\nappeared at that moment. Then the fairies bathed her, combed and\nrolled up her hair, put on her grand clothes and lovely slippers. But\nall the time the princess did nothing but cry. They brought a chair\nand placed it before the tent, and made her sit in it. One of them\ntook the flute and played on it, and all the others danced before the\nprincess, and they sang songs for her. Still she cried and cried. At\nlast, at four o'clock in the morning, one of the fairies said,\n\"Princess, why do you cry?\" \"I took all the needles out of the king,\nall but those in his eyes,\" said the princess, \"and while I was\nbathing, my servant-girl, whom I had bought with my gold bangles,\npulled these out. She told the king it was she who had pulled out all\nthe other needles and brought him to life, and that I was her servant,\nand she has taken my place and is treated as the princess, and the\nking has married her, while I am made to do a servant's work and\ntreated as the servant.\" \"Do not cry,\" said the fairies. \"Everything\nwill be well for you by and by.\"\n\nWhen it was close on morning, the princess played on the flute, and\nall the chairs, sofas, and fairies became quite tiny, and went into\nthe box, and the tent disappeared. She shut it up, and took it back to\nthe king's palace. The next night she again went out to the\njungle-plain, and all happened as on the night before.\n\nA wood-cutter was coming home late from his work, and had to pass by\nthe plain. He wondered when he saw the tent. \"I went by some time\nago,\" he said to himself, \"and I saw no tent here.\" He climbed up a\nbig tree to see what was going on, and saw the fairies dancing before\nthe princess, who sat outside the tent, and he saw how she cried\nthough the fairies did all they could to amuse her. Then he heard the\nfairies say, \"Princess, why do you cry?\" And he heard her tell them\nhow she had cured the king, and how her servant-girl had taken her\nplace and made her a servant. \"Never mind, don't cry,\" said the\nfairies. \"All will be well by and by.\" Near morning the princess\nplayed on her flute, and the fairies went into the box, and the tent\ndisappeared, and the princess went back to the palace.\n\nThe third night passed as the other two had done. The wood-cutter came\nto look on, and climbed into the tree to see the fairies and the\nprincess. Again the fairies asked her why she cried, and she gave the\nsame answer.\n\nThe next day the wood-cutter went to the king. \"Last night and the\nnight before,\" he said, \"as I came home from work, I saw a large tent\nin the jungle, and before the tent there sat a princess who did\nnothing but cry, while seven fairies danced before her, or played on\ndifferent instruments, and sang songs to her.\" The king was very much\nastonished, and said to the wood-cutter, \"To-night I will go with you,\nand see the tent, and the princess, and the fairies.\"\n\nWhen it was night the princess went out softly and opened her box on\nthe plain. The wood-cutter fetched the king, and the two men climbed\ninto a tree, and watched the fairies as they danced and sang. The king\nsaw that the princess who sat and cried was his own servant-girl. He\nheard her tell the fairies all she had done for him, and all that had\nhappened to her; so he came suddenly down from the tree, and went up\nto her, and took her hand. \"I always thought you were a princess, and\nno servant-girl,\" he said. \"Will you marry me?\"\n\nShe left off crying, and said, \"Yes, I will marry you.\" She played on\nher flute, and the tent disappeared, and all the fairies, and sofas,\nand chairs went into the box. She put her flute in it, as she always\ndid before shutting down the lid, and went home with the king.\n\nThe servant-girl was very vexed and angry when she found the king knew\nall that had happened. However, the princess was most good to her, and\nnever treated her unkindly.\n\nThe princess then sent a letter to her mother, in which she wrote, \"I\nam going to be married to a great king. You and my father must come to\nmy wedding, and must bring my sisters with you.\"\n\nThey all came, and her father and mother liked the king very much, and\nwere glad their daughter should marry him. The wedding took place, and\nthey stayed with her for some time. For a whole week she gave their\nservants and sepoys nice food cooked with salt, but to her father and\nmother and sisters she only gave food cooked with sugar. At last they\ngot so tired of this sweet food that they could eat it no longer. At\nthe end of the week she gave them a dinner cooked with salt. Then her\nfather said, \"My daughter is wise though she is so young, and is the\nyoungest of my daughters. I know now how much she loved me when she\nsaid she loved me like salt. People cannot eat their food without\nsalt. If their food is cooked with sugar one day, it must be cooked\nwith salt the next, or they cannot eat it.\"\n\nAfter this her father and mother and sisters went home, but they\noften came to see their little daughter and her husband.\n\nThe princess, the king, and the servant-maid all lived happily\ntogether.\n\n Told by M\u00faniy\u00e1.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXXIV.\n\nTHE DEMON IS AT LAST CONQUERED BY THE KING'S SON.\n\n\nIn a country there were seven men, no two of whom belonged to the same\nfamily, or were of the same trade. One was a grain merchant's son, one\na baker's, and so on; each had a different trade.\n\nThese seven men determined they would go to seek for service in\nanother country. They said good-bye to their fathers and mothers, and\nset off.\n\nThey travelled every day, and walked through many jungles. At last, a\nlong way from their homes, they came to a wide plain in the midst of a\njungle, and on it they saw a goat which seemed to be a very good\nmilch-goat. The seven men said to each other, \"If this goat belonged\nto any one, it would not be left all alone in the jungle. Let us take\nit with us.\" They did so, and no one they met asked them any questions\nabout the goat.\n\nIn the evening they arrived at a village where they stayed for the\nnight. They cooked and ate their dinners, and gave the goat grass and\ngrain. At midnight, when they were all asleep, the goat became a great\nshe-demon, with a great mouth, and swallowed one of the seven men.\nThen she became a goat again, and went back to the place where she had\nbeen stabled.\n\nThe men got up in the morning, and were very much surprised to find\nthey were only six, not seven. \"Where is the seventh gone?\" they\nsaid. \"Well, when he returns we will all go on together.\" They sat\nwaiting and waiting for him, till, as it was getting late and he had\nnot come, they all thought they had better start without him. So they\ncontinued their journey, taking the goat with them. Before they went\nthey said to the villagers, \"If our seventh man comes back to you,\nsend him after us.\"\n\nAt evening they came to another village, where they stayed for the\nnight. They cooked and ate their dinners, and gave grain and grass to\nthe goat. At midnight, when they were fast asleep, the goat became a\ndemon and swallowed another man, and then took her goat's shape again.\n\nIn this way she ate five men. The two that were left were very sad at\nfinding themselves alone. \"We were seven men,\" they said, \"now we are\nbut two.\" The grain merchant's son was one of the two, and he was very\nquick and sharp. He determined he would not say anything to his\ncompanion, but that he would watch by him that night, and find out, if\nhe could, what had happened to his other friends. To keep himself\nawake he cut a piece out of his finger, and rubbed a little salt into\nthe wound, so that when his companion went to sleep, he should not be\nable to sleep because of the pain. At midnight the goat came and\nturned into a huge demon. She went quickly up to the sleeping man to\nswallow him; but the merchant's son rushed at her, beat her, and\nsnatched his companion from her mouth. The demon turned instantly into\na goat, and went back to the place where it had been stabled.\n\nThe two men next morning set out from the village where they had\npassed the night. They would have killed the goat had they been able.\nAs they could not do so, they took it with them till they came to a\nplain in the jungle, where they tied it up to a tree, and left it.\nThen they continued their journey, and were very sorry they had not\nknown how wicked the goat was before it had swallowed their five\ncompanions.\n\nThe goat meanwhile turned itself into a most beautiful young girl,\ndressed in grand clothes and rich jewels, and she sat down in the\njungle and began to cry. Just then the king of another country was\nhunting in this jungle; and when he heard the noise of the crying, he\ncalled his servants and told them to go and see who was crying. The\nservants looked about until they saw the beautiful girl. They asked\nher a great many questions, but she only cried, and would not answer.\nThe servants returned to the king, and told him it was a most\nbeautiful young girl who was crying; but she would do nothing but cry,\nand would not speak.\n\nThe king left his hunting and went himself to the girl, and asked her\nwhy she cried. \"My husband married me,\" she said, \"and was taking me\nto his home. He went to get some water to drink, and left me here. He\nhas never come back, and I don't know where he is; perhaps some tiger\nhas killed him, and now I am all alone, and do not know where to go.\nThis is why I cry.\" The king was so delighted with her beauty, that he\nasked her to go with him. He sent his servants for a fine palanquin,\nand when it came he put the girl into it, and took her to his palace,\nand there she stayed.\n\nAt midnight she turned into a demon, and went to the place where the\nking's sheep and goats were kept. She tore open all their stomachs,\nand ate all their hearts. Then she dipped seven knives in their blood,\nand laid the knives on the beds of the seven queens.\n\nNext morning the king heard that all his sheep and goats were lying\ndead; and when his seven wives woke, they saw that their clothes were\nall bloody, and that bloody knives lay on their beds. They wondered\nwho had done this wicked thing to them.\n\nThe next night at twelve o'clock the beautiful girl turned into a\ndemon again, and went to the cow-house. There she tore open the cows\nand ate their hearts. Then she smeared the queens' clothes, and laid\nknives dipped in blood on their beds; but she washed her own hands and\nclothes, so that no blood should show on them. For a long time the\nsame thing happened every night, till she had eaten all the elephants,\nhorses, camels,--every animal, indeed, belonging to the king. The king\nwondered very much at his animals all being killed in this way, and he\ncould not understand either why every morning his wives' clothes were\nbloody, and bloody knives found on their beds.\n\nWhen she had eaten all the animals, the demon said to the king, \"I am\nafraid your wives are very wicked women. They must have killed all\nyour cows and sheep, goats, horses, elephants, and camels. I am afraid\none day they will eat me up.\" \"I have been married to them for many\nyears,\" answered the king, \"and anything like this has never happened\nbefore.\" \"I am very much afraid of them,\" said the demon, who all this\ntime looked a most beautiful girl. \"I am very much afraid; but if you\ncut out their eyes, then they cannot kill me.\"\n\nThe king called his servants and said to them, \"Get ready seven\npalanquins, and carry my seven wives into the jungle. There you must\nleave them; only first take out their eyes, which you must bring to\nme.\" The servants took the queens to a jungle a long way from the\nking's country. There they took out their eyes, and left them, and\nbrought the eyes to the king, who gave them into the demon's hands.\nShe pounded them to bits with a stone, and threw the bits away.\n\nThe seven queens in the jungle did not know which way to go; so they\nwalked straight on, and fell into a dry well which lay just before\nthem. In this well they stayed; and the day when they thought they\nmust die of hunger and thirst was drawing near. But before it came the\neldest queen had a little son. She and the five next wives were so\nhungry, that they agreed to kill the child, and divide it into seven\npieces. They each ate a piece, and gave one to the seventh and\nyoungest wife. She said nothing, and hid the piece. These five wives\neach had a son one after the other, and they killed and divided their\nchildren as the eldest wife had done with hers. But the youngest wife\nhid all the six pieces that were given her, and would eat none. Her\nson was born last of all. Then the six eldest wives said, \"Let us kill\nand divide your child.\" \"No,\" she said, \"I will never kill or divide\nmy boy; I would rather die of hunger. Here are the six pieces you gave\nme. I would not eat them. Take them and eat them, but you must not\ntouch my son.\" God was so pleased with her for not killing her child,\nthat he made the boy grow bigger and bigger every day; and the little\nqueen was very happy.\n\nThey all lived in the dry well without any food till the little prince\nwas five years old. By that time he was very quick and clever. One day\nhe said to his mother, \"Why have we lived all this while in the well?\"\nHis mother and all the other wives told him about the wicked demon who\nlived in his father's palace, and how the king believed her to be a\nbeautiful girl and had married her, and of all the evil things that\nshe had done to them, and how she had made the king send them to the\njungle and have their eyes cut out and given to her, and how from not\nbeing able to see they had fallen into this well, and how they had\neaten all his brothers, because they were so very hungry they thought\nthey should die--all but his mother at least, for she would not eat\nthe other wives' children and would not kill her own little son. \"Let\nme climb out of this well,\" said the boy, who determined in his heart\nthat he would kill this wicked demon one day. His mother said, \"No,\nstay here; you are too young to leave the well.\"\n\nThe boy did not listen to her, but scrambled out. Then he saw they\nwere in a wide plain in the jungle. He ran after a few birds, caught\nand killed them. Then he roasted the birds and brought them with some\nwater to his seven mothers in the well. When they had eaten them and\ndrunk the water, they were happy and worshipped God. The six mothers\nwho had eaten their children were full of sorrow, and said, \"If our\nsix sons were now living, how good it would be for us: how happy we\nshould be.\" The young prince went out hunting for little birds every\nday, and in the evening he cooked those he caught and brought them,\nwith water, to his mothers.\n\nNow the demon, because she was a demon and was therefore wiser than\nmen and women, knew that the seven queens lived in the well, and that\nthe son of the youngest queen was still alive. She determined to kill\nhim; so she pretended her eyes hurt her, and began crying, and making\na great to-do. The king asked her, \"What is the matter?\" \"See, king,\nsee my eyes,\" she said. \"They ache and hurt me so much.\" \"What\nmedicine will make them well again?\" said the king. \"If I could only\nbathe them with a tigress's milk, they would be well,\" she answered.\n\nThe king called two of his servants and said to them, \"Can either of\nyou get me a tigress's milk? Here are two thousand rupees for\nwhichever of you brings me the milk.\" Then he gave them the rupees,\nand told them to get it at once.\n\nThe servants took the rupees, and said nothing to the king, but they\nsaid to each other, \"How can we get a tigress's milk?\" And they were\nvery sad. They left the king's country, and wandered on till they came\nto the jungle-plain, where lived the young prince and his mothers.\nThere they saw him sitting by a dry well and roasting birds. \"Do you\nlive in this jungle?\" they said to him. \"Yes,\" answered the boy. Then\nthe servants talked together. \"See,\" they said, \"this boy lives in the\njungle, so he will surely be able to get us the milk. Let us tell him\nto get it, and give him the two thousand rupees.\"\n\nSo they came back to the boy, who asked them where they were going.\n\"Our queen is very ill with pain in her eyes, and our king has sent us\nfor some tigress's milk for her to bathe them with, that they may get\nwell. He has given us two thousand rupees, for whichever of us to keep\nwho gets the milk. But we do not know where or how to get it.\"\n\n\"Good,\" said the boy; \"give me the two thousand rupees and I will get\nit for you. Come here for it in a week's time.\"\n\nThe king's servants were very much pleased at not having to try and\nget it themselves, so they gave him the rupees and went home. The\ndemon knew quite well when she asked for the milk that none of the\nking's servants would dare to go for it, but that his son would be\nbrave enough to go. This is why she asked for it, for she meant the\ntigers to kill him.\n\nThe little prince now took his seven mothers out of the well, and they\nall went together to his father's country. There he got a small house\nfor them, and good clothes and food. He got a servant, too, for them,\nto cook their dinner and take care of them. \"Be very tender to them,\"\nhe said to the servant, \"for they cannot see.\" For himself he bought a\nlittle horse, and good clothes, and a gun, and a sword. Then he made\nhis mothers many salaams, and told them he was going to get a\ntigress's milk. They all cried and begged him not to go.\n\nBut he set off and rode for three or four days through the jungles.\nThen he came to a large jungle which was in a great blaze, and two\ntiger-cubs were running about in the jungle trying to get out of the\nfire. He jumped off his horse, and took them in his hands; then he\nmounted his horse again and rode out of the jungle. He rode on till\nhe came to another which was not on fire. He let the cubs loose in it\nthat they might run away; but they placed themselves in front of his\nhorse, and said, \"We will not let you go till you have seen our father\nand mother.\"\n\nMeanwhile the tiger and tigress saw the boy coming with their cubs,\nand they came running to meet them. Till then they had thought their\ncubs were burned in the jungle-fire. Now they knew at once this boy\nhad saved them. The cubs said to their father and mother, \"We should\nhave died had it not been for this boy. Give him food; and when he has\neaten some food, we will drink milk.\" The tigers were very happy at\nhaving their children safe. They went to a garden and got food and\ngood water for the boy, who ate and drank. Then the little cubs drank\ntheir mother's milk.\n\nThe tiger said to the prince, \"You are such a little child, how is it\nyour mother let you come alone to this jungle?\"\n\n\"My mother's eyes are sore and pain her; and the doctor says that if\nshe bathes them in a tigress's milk they will get well. So I came to\nsee if I could get a little for her.\"\n\n\"I will give you some,\" said the tigress, and she gave him a little\njar full of her milk. The cubs said, \"One of us will go with you, and\nthe other will stay with our father and mother.\" \"No,\" said the little\nprince, \"do you both stay with your father and mother. I will not take\neither of you away. What should I do with you?\" \"No,\" said one of the\ncubs; \"I will go with you. I will do all you tell me. Wherever you bid\nme stay, there I will stay; and I will eat any food you give me.\"\n\"Take him with you,\" said the old tiger; \"one day you will find him of\nuse.\" So the boy took the cub and the milk, and made his salaam to the\nold tigers and went home. His mothers were delighted at his return,\nthough, as they had no eyes, they could not see him.\n\nHe tied up the tiger's cub and fed him. Then he took a little of the\nmilk, and went to the dry well in the jungle and sat down by it. The\nking's servants came when the week had passed, and the boy gave them\nthe milk. The servants took it to the king, who gave it to the demon.\nShe was very angry when she found the tigers had not eaten the boy;\nbut she bathed her eyes with the milk, and said nothing.\n\nAt the end of another week she would not eat or drink, and did nothing\nbut cry. \"What is the matter?\" said the king. \"See how my eyes pain\nme,\" she answered. \"If I could only get an eagle's feather to lay on\nthem they would be well. Oh, how they hurt me!\"\n\nThe king called his servants and gave them four thousand rupees. \"Go\nand get me an eagle's feather,\" he said, \"and he who gets it is to\ntake the four thousand rupees.\" \"Let us go to the jungle well,\" they\nsaid, \"and find the boy who got us the tigress's milk. We could never\nget an eagle's feather, but this child certainly can get one for us.\"\n\nSo they went to the well where they found the boy. The little prince\nwas very wise, though he was such a little child; and he knew the\ndemon would try to send him on some other errand that she might get\nrid of him. He was quite willing to go on her errands, for he thought\nhe might thus learn how to kill her. He was not a bit afraid of being\nkilled himself, for he knew that God loved him, and that no one but\nGod could kill him.\n\nHe at once asked the king's servants, \"What do you want now?\" \"Our\nking has sent us for an eagle's feather to lay on the queen's eyes,\nwhich pain her again. Here are four thousand rupees for you if you\nwill get it for us.\" \"Give me the rupees,\" said the king's son. \"Come\nhere in two weeks, and I will give you the feather.\"\n\nHe took the rupees to his mothers, and told them he was going to fetch\nan eagle's feather. \"Where will you find one?\" they said. \"I don't\nknow,\" he answered, \"but I am going to look for one.\" He hired some\nmore servants, and told them to take care of his mothers and the\ntiger-cub.\n\nHe rode straight on for two or three days, and at last came to a very\ndense jungle, through which he rode for another three or four days.\nWhen he got out of it he found himself on a beautiful smooth plain in\nwhich was a tank. There, too, was a large fig-tree, and under the tree\ncool shade, and cool, thick grass. He was very much pleased when he\nsaw the tank and the tree. He got off his horse, bathed in the tank,\nand sat down under the fig-tree, thinking, \"Here I will sleep a little\nwhile before I go further.\"\n\nWhile he lay asleep in the grass, a great snake crawled up the tree,\nat the top of which were two young eagles. They began screaming very\nloud. Their cries awakened the little prince. He looked about and saw\nthe great snake in the tree. Then he took his gun and fired at it, and\nthe snake fell dead to the ground. He cut it into five pieces, and hid\nthem in the long grass. Then he lay down again and went to sleep.\n\nThe baby eagles were alone in the tree, as their father and mother had\ngone to another country. But now the old birds came home, and found\nthe king's son sleeping in the grass. \"See,\" they said, \"here is the\nthief who every year robs us of our children! But now he cannot get\naway. We will kill him.\" However, they thought it better to go and\nlook first at their children, to see if they were safe or not. They\nflew up to the top of the tree, and when they found their children\nsafe, they wished to give them food. All the time they kept saying,\n\"Eat; then we will kill the thief who steals away our children every\nyear.\" The young eagles thought, \"Oh, if God would only give us the\npower to speak, then we would tell our father and mother that this\nboy is no thief.\" Then God gave them the power to speak, and they said\nto the old eagles, \"Listen; if that boy had not been here, we should\nhave died, for he killed a huge snake that was going to swallow us:\nonly go and look, and you will see it dead and cut into pieces.\" And\nthe eaglets refused to eat till the boy had been fed.\n\nThe big eagles flew down and found the bits of the snake: so they flew\naway to a beautiful garden, where they got delicious fruits and water.\nThese they brought to the boy, and awoke him and fed him. Then they\nsaid to him, \"It is indeed good to find our children alive. Hitherto\nour children have always been eaten by that snake. How are your father\nand mother? Why did they let you come to this jungle? What have you\ncome here for?\" The little prince said, \"My mother's eyes are very\nsore; but they would be cured if she could have an eagle's feather to\nlay on them. So I came to look for one.\" Then the mother gave him one\nof her feathers.\n\nWhen the boy was going home, the eaglets said they would go with him.\n\"No,\" he said, \"I will not take you with me.\" But the old birds said,\n\"Take one of them, it will help you one day.\" The little prince made\nhis salaam to the big eagles, and took one of their young ones,\nmounted his horse, and rode off. The eaglet flew over his head to\nshade him from the sun.\n\nWhen he got home to his seven mothers, he took the feather and went\nand sat by the dry well. The king's servants came there to him, and he\ngave them the feather, and said, \"Take it to your king.\" This they\ndid, and the king gave it to the demon, who flew into a great rage.\nShe said to herself, \"The tigers did not kill him, and now the eagles\nhave not killed him.\"\n\nAt the end of two weeks she began to cry and would not eat. The king\nasked her, \"What is the matter with you? what has happened to you?\"\n\"My eyes pain me so much,\" she said. \"What will cure them?\" said the\nking. \"If I had only some night-growing rice,\" she said, \"I would boil\nit, and make rice-water, which I would drink. Then I should get well.\"\nNow this night-growing rice was a wonderful rice that no men, and only\none demon, possessed. This was the demon-queen's brother. He used to\nput a grain of this rice into his huge cavern of a mouth at night when\nhe went to sleep, and when he woke in the morning this grain would\nhave become a tree. Then the demon used to take the rice-tree out of\nhis mouth.\n\nThe demon, who seemed such a lovely girl, now wrote a letter to her\nbrother, in which she said, \"The bearer of this letter goes to you for\nsome night-growing rice. You must kill him at once; you must not let\nhim live.\" The king gave this letter to his servants, with six\nthousand rupees. \"Take this letter,\" he said, \"and fetch some of the\nnight-growing rice. Here are six thousand rupees for whichever of you\nfinds it.\" The king had no idea that it was not these men who had gone\nfor the tigress's milk and the eagle's feather.\n\nThe servants said, \"Let us go to the well, to the boy who has helped\nus before. We don't know where to get this night-growing rice, but\nthat boy is sure to know.\"\n\nThe boy was sitting by the well, and asked what they wanted. They\nanswered, \"See, the king has given us six thousand rupees and a\nletter, and told us to fetch him some night-growing rice.\" \"Very\ngood,\" said the king's son. \"Come here in three weeks' time, and I\nwill give you some.\" The servants gave him the rupees and returned\nhome.\n\nHe took the rupees to his mothers, and told them he was going on a\nfresh errand, and they were to keep the money. Then he made them\nsalaams, took his letter, and rode off. The eaglet went too, and flew\nabove his head. The tiger's cub he left at home.\n\nHe rode on and on through a very large jungle, and he rode a long,\nlong way: at last in a jungle he saw a fak\u00edr, who was living in it. He\nmade him salaams, and the fak\u00edr was delighted to see him, \"because,\"\nhe said, \"for many years I have been in this country, and all that\ntime have never seen any man.\" The prince sat down by the fak\u00edr, and\nthe fak\u00edr was very much pleased. He asked the boy who had sent him to\nthe jungle, and why he had come to it. \"My mother has sore eyes,\" he\nanswered, \"and wants some night-growing rice. She has given me a\nletter to the man who owns it.\"\n\nThe fak\u00edr took and read the letter, and was very sorry. He tore it up\nand threw it away. Then he wrote another, in which he said, \"Your\nsister is very ill, and her son has come for some night-growing rice\nfor her.\" This he gave to the boy, and told him to continue his\njourney. He also told him that the man who had the rice was a huge\ndemon, and that he lived in the country by the great sea. Then he told\nhim the way.\n\nThe boy rode on and on, and after a week's journeying he came to the\ndemon's country. There he saw the huge demon sitting on the ground,\nwith his great, big mouth, that was just like a cavern. As soon as the\ndemon saw him he stood up and said, \"It is many days since a man came\nhere. Now I will eat this one.\" He went towards the prince to seize\nhim, and a great rushing wind came blowing from the demon, as it\nalways did when he was angry. But the boy, who had begun to walk\ntowards him when he stood up, threw the letter to him with all his\nmight, so that it fell on him; at the same time he made many salaams.\nThe demon read the letter, and found his sister was very ill, and this\nwas her son; so he stopped the wind, and came up to the boy, who he\nthought was his sister's son. \"You have come for the rice for my\nsister who is ill,\" he said to him; \"you shall have it.\"\n\nThe demon had a splendid house full of beautiful things, and a great\nmany servants. He took the little prince home with him, and told his\nservants to get water ready and gave the child a bath. They were also\nto cook a good dinner for him. Then the demon showed the boy all his\ngardens, and all his beautiful things, and took him through all the\nrooms of his house. One room he did not show to the prince. He told\nhim he was never to go into it, though he might go everywhere else\nthat he liked. In this room lived the demon's daughter, who was very\nbeautiful, just like a fairy. She was ten years old. Every day before\nher father went out, he used to make the girl lie on her bed, and\ncover her with a sheet, and he placed a thick stick at her head, and\nanother at her feet; then she died till he came home in the evening\nand changed the sticks, putting the one at her head at her feet, and\nthe one at her feet at her head. This brought her to life again.\n\nThe next day, when the demon had gone out, the boy went to this room,\nand opened the door, for he wanted to see what was in it. He went in,\nand saw the beautiful girl lying on the bed. \"How lovely she is!\" he\nsaid; \"but she is dead.\" Then he saw the sticks, and, to amuse\nhimself, he put the one at her head at her feet, and the one at her\nfeet at her head, just as the demon did every evening. The girl at\nonce came to life, and opened her eyes and got up. \"Who is this?\" she\nsaid to herself, when she saw the king's son. \"This is not my father.\"\nShe asked him, \"Who are you? Why do you come here? If my father sees\nyou he will eat you.\" \"No, he won't,\" said the prince, \"for I am your\naunt's son, and your father himself brought me to his house. But why\nis it that you are dead all day, and alive all night?\" The girl had\ntold him that her father brought her to life every evening, and made\nher dead every morning. \"Such is my father's pleasure,\" she answered.\n\nSo they talked together all day, and he said to her, \"Suppose one day\nyour father made you dead as usual, and that he was killed before he\nhad brought you to life, what would you do? You would always be dead\nthen.\" \"Listen,\" she said; \"no one can kill my father.\" \"Why not?\"\nsaid the boy. \"Listen,\" she answered; \"on the other side of the sea\nthere is a great tree, in that tree is a nest, in the nest is a\n_main\u00e1_. If any one kills that _main\u00e1_, then only will my father die.\nAnd if, when the _main\u00e1_ is killed, its blood falls to the ground, a\nhundred demons would be born from the blood. This is why my father\ncannot be killed.\"\n\nAt evening, before the demon came home, the prince made the girl dead.\nThen he went softly into another room.\n\nThe fak\u00edr had said to the boy, when they were in the jungle together,\n\"If ever you are in trouble, come to me and I will help you. It will\ntake you now one week to ride to the demon's country; but if ever you\nneed me, you shall be able to come to me here in this jungle, and to\nreturn to the demon's house in one day.\" The fak\u00edr was such a holy man\nthat everything he said should happen did happen. So now the prince\ndetermined he would go to the fak\u00edr and ask him what he should do to\nkill this _main\u00e1_. In the morning, therefore, as soon as the demon had\ngone out, he set off for the fak\u00edr's jungle, and, thanks to the holy\nman's power, he got there very quickly. He told him everything, and\nthe fak\u00edr made a paper boat which he gave him. \"This boat will take\nyou over the sea,\" he said to the prince. \"This paper boat!\" said the\nboy. \"How can a paper boat go over the sea? It will get soaked and\nsink.\" \"No, it will not,\" said the fak\u00edr. \"Launch it on the sea, and\nget into it. The boat will of itself carry you to the tree where the\n_main\u00e1's_ nest is.\"\n\nThe prince took the boat, and went back to the demon's house. He got\nthere before the demon came home, so that he did not know the boy had\nbeen to the fak\u00edr. When the demon returned that evening, the king's\nson said, \"To-morrow I will go home, as my mother is very ill. Will\nyou give me the rice?\" \"Good,\" said the demon, \"you shall have it\nto-morrow.\" Next morning he gave the rice, and went off to the jungle.\n\nThen the boy took his paper boat down to the sea, launched it, and got\ninto it; and of itself the boat went straight over the sea to the\nopposite shore. The eaglet flew above his head; but he left his horse\non land. When he got to the other side, he saw the great tree, with\nthe nest and the _main\u00e1_. He climbed the tree, and took down the nest,\nand the demon, who was far away, knew it at once, and said to himself,\n\"Some one has come to catch and kill me.\" He set out at once for the\ntree. The prince saw him coming, so he wrapped the _main\u00e1_ up in his\nhandkerchief, that no blood should fall to the ground. Then he broke\noff one of its legs, and one of the demon's legs fell off. Still the\ndemon came on. Then he broke off the other leg, but the demon walked\non his hands. The boy saw him coming nearer and nearer, so he wrung\nthe bird's head off, and the demon fell dead.\n\nThe prince jumped into his paper boat, and of itself the boat went\nstraight back to the other shore, to the demon's country. Then he went\nup to the demon's house, and made his daughter alive.\n\nShe was frightened, and said to him, \"Oh, take care. If my father\ncomes back, and finds us together, he will eat us both.\" \"He will not\ncome back,\" said the prince. \"I have killed him.\"\n\nThen he dressed her in boy's clothes, that no one might know she was a\ngirl, and he found a horse, and had it made ready for her. Her father\nhad collected a quantity of rupees. Some of these the prince gave to\nthe servants as a present, and said to them, \"Stay here and be happy;\ndo not be afraid, for there is no demon now to come and eat you.\"\n\nThen he took the rice and mounted his horse, and made the girl mount\nalso, and went off to the fak\u00edr. The paper boat he left, as he did not\nwant it any more. He and the demon's daughter made the fak\u00edr many\nsalaams, and they stayed with him for a day before they rode to the\nprince's country. Here they went to his seven mothers, who were very,\nvery glad to see them, and thanked God that their son had come back\nsafe.\n\nHe took a little of the rice, and went and sat by the well till the\nking's two servants came. Then he gave them the rice for their king,\nand the king gave it to the demon. She said nothing while the king was\nwith her; but when she was alone she cried, for she knew the boy must\nhave killed her brother, as he had brought her the rice.\n\nShe waited a week, and then she began to cry again, and would not eat.\nThe king was very sorry, and thought, \"What can I do to make her well\nand happy?\" Then he said, \"What will cure your eyes?\" \"See, king,\" she\nanswered, \"if I could only bathe my eyes with water from the\nGlittering Well, they would not pain me any more.\" This well was in\nthe fairies' country, and was guarded by the demon's sister, whose\nname was Jangkatar. She lived in the well; and when any one came to\ndraw water from it, she used to drag him down and eat him.\n\nThe king called his servants, gave them eight thousand rupees, and\nsaid, \"Go and fetch me water from the Glittering Well.\" The servants\nwent at once to the dry well in the jungle. There they found the\nprince, who asked them what they wanted. \"Here are eight thousand\nrupees,\" they said; \"and the king has ordered us to bring him water\nfrom the Glittering Well.\" \"Come in three weeks, and I will give it\nto you,\" said the king's son. He took to his mothers the eight\nthousand rupees which the servants had given him, and said to them,\n\"Take care of these rupees, for I am going away for a little while.\"\nThen he got his horse ready and mounted it, and made many salaams to\nhis mothers. The tiger-cub said to him, \"Take me with you this time.\nLast time you only took the eagle. Now we will both go with you.\"\n\nSo he rode off; and the eaglet flew above his head and the young tiger\nran by his side. It took him a week to get to the fairies' country,\nand then he came to a beautiful smooth plain, in which was a garden,\nbut no house. In the middle of this garden was the Glittering Well. It\nwas a deep well, and the water sprang up out of it like a fountain,\nand then fell back into the well, and the water shone and sparkled as\nif it were gold, and silver, and diamonds. This is why it was called\nthe Glittering Well.\n\nThe prince dipped his jar in the well, and Jangkatar put up her hand\nand caught him. She dragged him into the water and swallowed him\nwhole. Then the young eagle flew down into the well, seized Jangkatar\nin his talons, and took her out and threw her on the ground. The\ntiger-cub rushed at her instantly, tore her open, and pulled the\nking's son out of her. But he was half dead. The cub and the eaglet\nlay down on him to warm him, and when they had warmed him, he was\nbetter.\n\n\"We have saved you,\" they said to him. \"But for us you would have\ndied.\" The young prince thanked them and caressed them. \"It is quite\ntrue,\" he said; \"without you I should have died.\" Then he filled his\njar with water, and mounted his horse and rode home. He made salaams\nto his seven mothers, with whom all this time the demon's daughter had\nstayed. He bathed his mothers' eyes with the water from the Glittering\nWell, and then they saw perfectly once more.\n\nHe took a little of the water, and went to wait for the king's\nservants by the dry jungle well, and he was very happy thinking that\nnow his mothers could see. He gave the water to the king's servants,\nwho took it to the king, and the king gave it to his demon-wife, and\nshe was very sad and angry, for she knew the boy must have killed her\nsister, the guardian of the Glittering Well.\n\nWhen a whole month had passed, and he had not been sent on any more\nerrands, the king's son said to himself, \"Good; now nothing more is\ngoing to happen to me. I am not to be sent anywhere else.\" So he\nbought a fine horse and grand clothes, and rode to the king's\ncourt-house. He went in, and seated himself at the king's right hand;\nbut he made no salaam to the king, and spoke to no one. This he did\nevery day for three days. Everybody was wondering who this boy was,\nand why he never made any salaam to the king.\n\nOn the fourth day, as he sat at the king's right hand, the king asked\nhim, \"Whose child are you? Where do you come from? Where are you\ngoing?\" The young prince answered, \"See, king, I am a merchant's son;\nmy ship has been wrecked, and I want to find service with some one.\"\n\"What can you do?\" asked the king. \"I don't know any trade,\" said his\nson; \"but I can tell you a story.\" \"What wages do you want?\" said the\nking. \"One thousand rupees a day,\" answered the boy. \"I shall only\nstay a short time in your country.\" \"Good,\" said the king; \"I will\ngive you one thousand rupees a day, and a servant to wait on you\nbesides. So come every day to my court-house, and tell me your story.\"\n\nThe prince told the king his own story. He began from where the king\nfound the beautiful demon-girl crying in the jungle, and ended it\nwhere his demon-wife cried and cried for her sister Jangkatar. It took\nhim three weeks to tell the story; and when he had finished it, the\nking knew that he himself was the king in the story, and that this boy\nwas his own son. \"How can I find my seven queens again?\" he said. \"If\nyou will kill this wicked demon-woman they will come back to you,\"\nsaid his son. The king was very sad, and thought, \"My seven wives and\nmy boy must have suffered very much.\" Then he loved his son, and was\nvery happy that he had found him. He ordered his servants to dig a\ndeep pit in the jungle, so deep that should his demon-wife take her\ndemon form when put into it, only her head would be above it. He\nthought that if her body were buried in the ground she would not be\nable to do them much harm while they were shooting her. Then he, and\nhis son, and his servants took their guns and bows and arrows, and\ntook the demon with them to the deep pit. She went quite quietly,\nthough she knew they were going to kill her. Since Jangkatar's death\nshe had been very quiet and sad. And now she thought, \"That boy will\nmost certainly kill me as he has killed my sister and brother. He is\nstronger than I am. I have no one else to send him to; and if I had,\nhe could not be killed. What is the use of my trying to save myself?\"\nSo she went along quite quietly, looking like a beautiful girl. She\nlet them put her into the pit, and shoot her to death with their guns\nand bows and arrows. Then they filled the pit up with earth.\n\nThe king went to his seven wives, and begged them to forgive him. He\nbrought them, his son, and the demon's daughter home to his palace.\nLater the king married his son to the demon's daughter, and every one\nwas glad.\n\nBut the king grieved that his six other sons were dead.\n\n Told by M\u00faniy\u00e1.\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXXV.\n\nTHE FAN PRINCE.\n\n\nIn a country there lived a king who had a wife and seven daughters.\nOne day he called all his daughters to him, and said to them, \"My\nchildren, who gives you food? and by whose permission do you eat it?\"\nSix of them answered, \"Father, you give us food; and by your\npermission we eat it.\" But the seventh and youngest said, \"Father, God\ngives me my food; and by my own permission I eat it.\" This answer made\nher father and mother very angry with their youngest daughter. They\nsaid, \"We will not let our youngest child stay with us any longer.\"\nAnd her father called some servants and said to them, \"Get a palanquin\nready, and put my youngest daughter into it; then carry her away to\nthe jungle, and there leave her.\"\n\nThe servants got the palanquin ready, put the youngest princess into\nit, and carried her into the jungle. There they put the palanquin down\nand said to her, \"We are going to drink some water.\" \"Go home now,\"\nsaid the girl, \"as my father ordered you to do.\" They left her,\ntherefore, in the jungle alone, and went back to the king's palace.\n\nThe girl prayed to God and worshipped him; then she went to sleep for\na little while in her palanquin. When she awoke, it was evening, and\nshe found in her palanquin a jar of water and some food on a plate\nwhich God had sent her while she slept. She knew that God had sent her\nthis nice dinner, and thanked him and worshipped him. Then she bathed\nher face and hands in a little of the water, and ate and drank, and\nwent to sleep quietly in her palanquin as night had come.\n\nThis little princess had always been a very gentle girl, and had\nalways done what was right, and been very good, so God loved her\ndearly. While she slept, therefore, he made a beautiful palace for her\non the jungle-plain where she was lying in her palanquin. God made a\ngarden and tank for her, too. When the princess woke in the morning,\nand got out of her palanquin, she saw the palace standing by its tank\nin a beautiful garden. \"I never saw that palace before,\" she said. \"It\nwas not here last night.\" She went into the garden, and servants met\nher and made her salaams. The palace was far finer than her father's;\nand when she went into it she found it full of servants. \"To whom does\nthis palace belong?\" she asked. \"To you,\" they answered. \"God made all\nthis for you last night, and he sent us to wait on you and be your\nservants.\" (Now, they were all men, not angels, that God had sent to\ntake care of her.) The princess thanked God, and worshipped him.\n\nA few days later, her father heard that in the jungle to which he had\nsent her a beautiful palace and garden and tank had suddenly appeared,\nand that in this palace she was living; and he said, \"Yes; my daughter\ntold me the truth: it is God who gives us everything. I know it is he\nwho gave her this beautiful house.\" So some time passed, and the\nprincess lived in her palace in the jungle; but her father did not go\nto see her.\n\nOne day he said to himself, \"To-day I will go and eat the air in\nanother country, and I will go by water.\" So he ordered a boat to be\ngot ready, and he went to his six daughters, and told them he was\ngoing away for a little while. \"What would you like me to bring you\nfrom this other country?\" he said. \"I will bring you anything you\nwould like to have.\" Some of them wanted jewels, a necklace, a pair of\nearrings, and so on; and some wanted silk stuffs for s\u00e1r\u00eds and other\nclothes. Then the king remembered his youngest child, and thought, \"I\nmust send to her, and see what she would like.\" He called one of his\nservants, and told him to go to the jungle to his youngest daughter\nand say, \"Your father is going to eat the air of another country. He\nwishes to know what you would like him to bring back for you.\"\n\nThe servant found the little princess reading her prayer-book. He gave\nher the king's message. She said, \"Sabr\" (that is _wait_), for she\nmeant him to wait for her answer till she had finished reading her\nprayers. The servant, however, did not understand, but went away at\nonce to the king and told him, \"Your daughter wants you to bring her\nSabr.\" \"Sabr?\" said the king; \"what is Sabr? Never, mind, I will see\nif I can find any Sabr; and if I do, I will bring it for her.\"\n\nThe king then went in his boat to another country. There he stayed for\na little while and bought the jewels and silks for his six elder\ndaughters. When he thought he should like to go home again, he went\ndown to his boat and got into it. But the boat would not move, because\nhe had forgotten one thing; the thing his youngest daughter had asked\nfor.\n\nSuddenly he remembered he had not got any Sabr. So he gave one of his\nservants four thousand rupees, and told him to go on shore, and go\nthrough the bazar, and try and find the Sabr, and he was to give the\nfour thousand rupees for it.\n\nThe man went to the bazar and asked every one if they had Sabr to\nsell. Then he asked if they could tell him what it was. \"No,\" they\nsaid, \"but our king's son is called Sabr; you had better speak to\nhim.\"\n\nThe servant went to Prince Sabr. \"Our king's youngest daughter,\" he\nsaid, \"has asked her father to bring her Sabr, and the king has given\nme four thousand rupees to buy it for her; but I cannot get any, and\nno one knows what it is.\" The prince said, \"Very good. Give this\nlittle box to your king, and tell him to give it to his youngest\ndaughter. But it is only the princess who has asked for Sabr who is to\nopen the box.\" Then he told the man to keep the four thousand rupees\nas a present from him.\n\nThe servant went back to the boat to the king and gave him the box,\nsaying, \"In this is the Sabr,\" and he told him Prince Sabr said no one\nbut the youngest princess was to open it. And now the boat moved quite\neasily, and the king journeyed home safely.\n\nHe gave his six eldest daughters the presents he had brought for them,\nand sent the little box to his youngest daughter. She said, \"My father\nhas sent me this. I will look at it by and by.\" Then she put it away\nand forgot it. At the end of a month she found the little box, and\nthought, \"I will see what my father has sent me,\" and opened the box.\nIn it was a most lovely little fan. She was very much pleased, and\nfanned herself with it, and at once a beautiful prince stood before\nher.\n\nThe princess was delighted. \"Who are you? Where did you come from?\"\nshe said. \"My name is Prince Sabr,\" he answered. \"Your father came to\nmy father's country, and he said you had asked him to bring you Sabr,\nso I gave him this little fan for you. I am obliged to come to whoever\nuses this little fan with the right side turned outwards. And when you\nwant me to go away, you must turn the right side of the fan towards\nyou and then fan yourself with it.\" The little princess said, \"Very\ngood. And so your name is Prince Sabr?\" They talked together for some\ntime. Then she turned her fan, so that the wrong side was outside,\nand fanned herself with it, and the prince disappeared.\n\nThis went on for a month. The princess used to fan herself with the\nright side turned outwards, and then Prince Sabr came to her. When she\nturned her fan wrong side outwards and fanned herself, then he\nvanished.\n\nOne day the prince said to her, \"I should like to marry you. Will you\nmarry me?\" \"Yes,\" she answered. Then she wrote a letter to her father\nand mother and six sisters, in which she said, \"Come to my wedding. I\nam going to marry Prince Sabr.\" They all came. Her father was very\nglad that she married Prince Sabr, and said, \"I see it is true that\nGod loves my youngest daughter.\"\n\nThe day of the wedding her six sisters said to her, \"To-day we will\nnot let the servants make your bed. We will make it ourselves for\nyou.\" \"I have plenty of servants to make it,\" she said; \"but you can\ndo so if you like.\" Her sisters went to make the bed. They took a\nglass bottle and ground it into a powder, and they spread the powder\nall over the side where Prince Sabr was to lie. This they did because\nthey were angry at their youngest sister being married, while they,\nwho were older, were not married, and they thought, being her elders,\nthey should have married first, especially as they had lived in their\nfather's palace, and been cared for, while she was cast out in the\njungle.\n\nWhen the wedding was over, and Prince Sabr and his wife had gone to\nbed, the prince became very ill, from the glass powder going into his\nflesh. \"Turn your fan the wrong way and fan yourself quickly, that I\nmay go home to my father's country,\" he said to her, \"for I am very\nill, and dare not remain here.\" So she fanned herself at once with the\nfan turned the wrong way. Then he went home to his father, and was\nvery ill for a long while. The poor princess knew nothing of the glass\npowder.\n\nHer father and mother and sisters went home after the wedding, and\nleft the princess alone in her palace. Every day she turned her fan\nthe right side outwards and fanned and fanned herself; but Prince Sabr\nnever came. He was far too ill. One day she cried a great deal, and\nwas very, very sad. \"Why does my prince not come to me?\" she said. \"I\ndon't know where he is, or what has become of him.\" That night she had\na dream, and in her dream she saw Prince Sabr lying very ill on his\nbed.\n\nWhen she got up in the morning she thought she must go and try to find\nher prince. So she took off all her beautiful clothes and jewels, and\nput on a yog\u00ed's dress. Then she mounted a horse and set out in the\njungle. No one knew she was a woman, or that she was a king's\ndaughter; every one thought she was a man.\n\nShe rode on till night, and then she had come to another jungle. Here\nshe got off her horse, and took it under a tree. She lay down under\nthe tree and went to sleep. At midnight she was awakened by the\nchattering of a parrot and a _main\u00e1_, who came and sat on the tree\nknowing she was lying underneath.\n\nThe _main\u00e1_ said to the parrot, \"Parrot, tell me something.\" The\nparrot said, \"Prince Sabr is very, very ill in his own country. The\nday he was married, the bride's six sisters took a glass bottle and\nground it to powder. Then they spread the powder all over the prince's\nbed, so that when he lay down it got into his flesh. The glass powder\nhas made him very ill.\" \"What will make him well?\" said the _main\u00e1_;\n\"what will cure him?\" \"No doctors can cure him,\" said the parrot; \"no\nmedicine will do him any good: but if any one slept under this tree,\nand took some of the earth from under it, and mixed it with cold\nwater, and rubbed it all over Prince Sabr, he would get well.\"\n\nAll this the princess heard. She got up and longed for morning to\ncome. When it was day she took some of the earth, mounted her horse,\nand rode off. She went on till she came to Prince Sabr's country. Then\nshe asked to whom the country belonged; she was told it was Prince\nSabr's father's country, \"but Prince Sabr is very ill.\"\n\n\"I am a yog\u00ed,\" said the princess, \"and I can cure him.\" This was told\nto the king, Prince Sabr's father. \"That is very good,\" he said. \"Send\nthe yog\u00ed to me.\" So the little princess went to the king, who said to\nher, \"My son is very, very ill; make him well.\" \"Yes,\" she said, \"I\nwill make him well. Bring me some cold water.\"\n\nThey brought her the cold water, and she mixed it with the earth she\nhad got from under the tree. This she rubbed all over the prince. For\nthree days and nights she rubbed him with it. After that he got\nbetter, and in a week he was quite well. He was able to talk, and\ncould walk about as usual.\n\nThen the yog\u00ed said, \"Now I will go back to my own country.\" But the\nking said to her, \"First you must let me give you a present. You shall\nhave anything that you like. As many horses, or sepoys, or rupees as\nyou want you shall have; for you have made my son well.\" \"I want\nnothing at all,\" said the princess, \"but Prince Sabr's ring, and the\nhandkerchief he has with his name worked on it.\" She had given him\nboth these things on their wedding day. Prince Sabr's father and\nmother went to their son and begged him to give the handkerchief and\nring to the yog\u00ed; and he did so quite willingly. \"For,\" he thought,\n\"were it not for that yog\u00ed, I should never see my dear princess\nagain.\"\n\nThe yog\u00ed took the ring and handkerchief and went home. When she got\nthere, she took off her yog\u00ed's dress and put on her own beautiful\nclothes. Then she turned her fan right side outwards, and fanned\nherself with it, and immediately her Prince Sabr stood by her. \"Why\ndid you not come to me before?\" she said. \"I have been fanning and\nfanning myself.\" \"I was very ill, and could not come,\" said Prince\nSabr. \"At last a yog\u00ed came and made me well, and as a reward I gave\nhim my ring and handkerchief.\" \"It was no yog\u00ed,\" said the princess.\n\"It was I who came to you and made you well.\" \"You!\" said the prince.\n\"Oh, no; it was a yog\u00ed. You were sitting here in your palace while the\nyog\u00ed came and cured me.\" \"No, indeed,\" she said; \"I was the yog\u00ed. See,\nis not this your ring? is not this your handkerchief with your name\nworked on it?\" Then he believed her, and she told him of her dream,\nand her journey in the yog\u00ed's dress, and the birds' talk, and all that\nhad happened.\n\nAnd Prince Sabr was very happy that his wife had done so much for him,\nand they lived happily together.\n\n Told by M\u00faniy\u00e1.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXXVI.\n\nTHE BED.\n\n\nIn a country there was a grain merchant's son, whose father and mother\nloved him so dearly that they did not let him do anything but play and\namuse himself while they worked for him. They never taught him any\ntrade, or anything at all; for they never reflected that they might\ndie, and that then he would have to work for himself. When he was old\nenough to be married, they found a wife for him, and married him to\nher. Then they all lived happily together for some years till the\nfather and mother both died.\n\nTheir son and his wife lived for a while on the pice his father and\nmother had left him. But the wife grew sadder and sadder every day,\nfor the pice grew fewer and fewer. She thought, \"What shall we do when\nthey are all gone? My husband knows no trade, and can do no work.\" One\nday when she was looking very sorrowful, her husband asked her, \"What\nis the matter? Why are you so unhappy?\" \"We have hardly any pice\nleft,\" she answered, \"and what shall we do when we have eaten the few\nwe have? You know no trade, and can do no work.\" \"Never mind,\" said\nher husband, \"I can do some work.\"\n\nSo one day when there were hardly any pice left, he took an axe, and\nsaid to his wife, \"I am going out to-day to work. Give me my dinner to\ntake with me, and I will eat it out of doors.\" She gave him some\nfood, wondering what work he had; but she did not ask him.\n\nHe went to a jungle, where he stayed all day, and where he ate his\ndinner. All day long he wandered from tree to tree, saying to each,\n\"May I cut you down?\" But not a tree in the jungle gave him any\nanswer: so he cut none down, and went home in the evening. His wife\ndid not ask where he had been, or what he had done, and he said\nnothing to her.\n\nThe next day he again asked her for food to take with him to eat out\nof doors, \"for,\" he said, \"I am going to work all day.\" She did not\nlike to ask him any questions, but gave him the food. And he took his\naxe, and went out to a jungle which was on a different side to the one\nhe had been to yesterday. In this jungle also he went to every tree,\nand said to it, \"May I cut you down?\" No tree answered him; so he ate\nhis dinner and came home.\n\nThe next day he went to a third jungle on the third side. There, too,\nhe asked each tree, \"May I cut you down?\" But none gave him any\nanswer. He came home therefore very sorrowful.\n\nOn the fourth day he went to a jungle on the fourth side. All day long\nhe went from tree to tree, asking each, \"May I cut you down?\" None\nanswered. At last, towards evening, he went and stood under a\nmango-tree. \"May I cut you down?\" he said to it. \"Yes, cut me down,\"\nanswered the tree. God loved the merchant's son and wished him to grow\na great man, so he ordered the mango-tree to let itself be cut down.\n\nNow the grain merchant's son was happy, for he was quite sure he could\nmake a bed, if he only had some wood; so he hewed down the mango-tree,\nput it on his head, and carried it home. His wife saw him coming, and\nsaid to herself, \"He is bringing home a tree! What can he be going to\ndo with a tree?\"\n\nNext morning he took the tree into one of the rooms of his house. He\ntold his wife to put food and water to last him for a week in this\nroom, and to make a fire in it. Then he went up to the room, and said\nto her, \"You are not to come in here for a whole week. You are not to\ncome near me till I call you.\" Then he went into the room and shut the\ndoor. The whole week long his wife wondered what he could be doing all\nalone in that room. \"I cannot see into it,\" she said to herself, \"and\nI dare not open the door. I wonder what he is about.\"\n\nBy the end of the week the grain merchant's son had carved a most\nbeautiful bed out of the mango-tree. Such a beautiful bed had never\nbeen seen. Then he called his wife, and when she came he told her to\nopen the door, and when she opened it he said, \"See what a beautiful\nbed I have made.\" \"Did _you_ make that bed?\" she said. \"Oh, what a\nbeautiful bed it is! I never saw such a lovely bed!\"\n\nHe rested that day, and on the day following he took the bed to the\nking's palace, and sat down with it before the palace gate. The king's\nservants all came to look at the bed. \"What a bed it is!\" they said.\n\"Did any one ever see such a bed! It is a beautiful bed. Is it yours?\"\nthey asked the merchant's son. \"Is it for sale? Who made it? Did you\nmake it?\" But he said, \"I will not answer any of your questions. I\nwill not speak to any of you. I will only speak to the king.\" So the\nservants went to the king and said to him, \"There is a man at your\ngate with a most beautiful bed. But he will not speak to any of us,\nand says he will only speak to you.\" \"Very good,\" said the king;\n\"bring him to me.\"\n\nWhen the grain merchant's son came before the king with his bed, the\nking asked him, \"Is your bed for sale?\" \"Yes,\" he said. \"What a\nbeautiful bed it is!\" said the king. \"Who made it?\" \"I did,\" he said.\n\"I made it myself.\" \"How much do you want for it?\" said the king.\n\"One thousand rupees,\" answered the merchant's son. \"That is a great\ndeal for the bed,\" said the king. \"I will not take less,\" said the\nmerchant's son. \"Good,\" said the king, \"I will give you the thousand\nrupees.\" So he took the bed, and the merchant's son said to him, \"The\nfirst night you pass on it, do not go to sleep. Take care to keep\nawake, and you will hear and see something.\" Then he took the rupees\nhome to his wife, who was frightened when she saw them. \"Are those\nyour rupees?\" she said. \"Where did you find such a quantity of\nrupees?\" \"The king gave them to me for my bed,\" he said. \"I am not a\nthief; I did not steal them.\" Then she was happy.\n\nThat night the king lay down on his bed, and at ten o'clock he heard\none of the bed's legs say to the other legs, \"Listen, you three. I am\ngoing out to see the king's country. Do you all stand firm while I am\naway, and take care not to let the king fall.\" \"Good,\" the three legs\nanswered; \"go and eat the air, and we will all stand fast, so that the\nking does not fall while you are away.\"\n\nThen the king saw the leg leave the bed, and go out of his room door.\nThe leg went out to a great plain, and there it saw two snakes\nquarrelling together. One snake said, \"I will bite the king.\" The\nother said, \"I will bite him.\" The first said, \"No, you won't; I will\nclimb on to his bed and bite him.\" \"That you will never do,\" said the\nsecond. \"You cannot climb on to his bed; but I will get into his shoe,\nand then when he puts it on to-morrow morning, I will bite his foot.\"\n\nThe bed-leg came back and told the other legs what it had seen and\nheard. \"If the king will shake his shoe before he puts it on to-morrow\nmorning,\" it said, \"he will see a snake drop out of it.\" The king\nheard all that was said.\n\n\"Now,\" said the second bed-leg, \"I will go out and eat the air of the\nking's country. Do you all stand firm while I am away.\" \"Go,\" the\nothers answered; \"we will take care the king does not fall.\" The\nsecond bed-leg then went out, and went to another plain on which stood\na very old palace belonging to the king, and the wind told it the\npalace was so ruinous that it would fall and kill the king the first\ntime he went into it: the king had never once had it repaired. So it\ncame back and told the three other legs all about the palace and what\nthe wind had said. \"If I were the king,\" said the second bed-leg, \"I\nwould have that palace pulled down. It is quite ready to fall; and the\nfirst time the king goes into it, it will fall on him and kill him.\"\nThe king lay, and listened to everything. As it happened, he had\nforgotten all about his old palace, and had not gone near it for a\nlong time.\n\nThen the third bed-leg said, \"Now I will go out and see all the fun I\ncan. Stand firm, you three, while I am away.\" He went to a\njungle-plain on which lived a yog\u00ed. Now there was a sarai[5] not far\noff in which lived a woman, the wife of a sepoy, whose husband had\ngone a year ago to another country, leaving her in the sarai. She was\nso fond of the yog\u00ed, that she used to come and talk to him every\nnight. That very day her husband came back to her, and therefore it\nwas later than usual when she got to the yog\u00ed; so he was very vexed\nwith her. \"How late you are to-night,\" he said. \"It is not my fault,\"\nshe answered. \"My husband came home to-day after having been away a\nyear, and he kept me.\" \"Which of us do you love best?\" asked the yog\u00ed;\n\"your husband or me?\" \"I love you best,\" said the woman. \"Then,\" said\nthe yog\u00ed, \"go home and cut off your husband's head, and bring it here\nfor me to see.\" The sepoy's wife went straight to the sarai, cut off\nher husband's head, and brought it to the yog\u00ed. \"What a wicked woman\nyou are to do such a thing at my bidding!\" he said. \"Go away at once.\nYou are a wicked woman, and I do not want to see you.\" She took the\nhead home, set it again on the body and began to cry. All the people\nin the sarai came to see what was the matter. \"Thieves have been\nhere,\" she said, \"and have killed my husband, and cut off his head,\"\nand then she cried again. The third bed-leg now went back to the\npalace, and told the others all it had seen and heard. The king lay\nstill and listened.\n\nThe fourth bed-leg next went out to see all it could, and it came to a\nplain on which were seven thieves, who had just been into the king's\npalace, and had carried off his daughter on her bed fast asleep; and\nthere she lay still sleeping. They had, too, been into the king's\ntreasury and had taken all his rupees. The fourth bed-leg came quickly\nback to the palace, and said to the other three legs, \"Now, if the\nking were wise he would get up instantly and go to the plain. For some\nthieves are there with his daughter and all his rupees which they have\njust stolen out of his palace. If he only made haste and went at once,\nhe would get them again.\"\n\nThe king got up that minute, and called his servants and some sepoys,\nand set off to the plain. He shook his shoe before he put it on, and\nout tumbled the snake (the other had quietly gone into the jungle, and\nnot come to the palace); so he saw that the first bed-leg had spoken\nthe truth.\n\nWhen he reached the plain he found his daughter and his rupees, and\nbrought them back to his palace. The princess slept all the time, and\ndid not know what had happened to her. The king saw the fourth leg had\ntold the truth. The thieves he could not catch, for they all ran away\nwhen they saw him coming with his sepoys.\n\nThe king sent men to the old palace to pull it down. They found it\nwas just going to fall, and would have fallen on any one who had\nentered it, and crushed him. So the second bed-leg had told the truth.\n\nWhen the king was sitting in his court-house he heard how during the\nnight thieves had gone into the sarai and killed a sepoy there and cut\noff his head. Then he sent for the sepoy's wife, and asked her who had\nkilled her husband. \"Thieves,\" she said. The king was very angry, for\nhe was sure the third bed-leg had told the truth as the other three\nlegs had done. So he ordered the man to be buried; and bade his\nservants make a great wooden pile on the plain, and take the woman and\nburn her on it. They were not to leave her as long as she was alive,\nbut to wait till she was dead.\n\nHe next sent for the grain merchant's son, and said to him, \"Had it\nnot been for your bed, I should this morning have been bitten by a\nsnake; and, perhaps, killed by my old palace falling on me, as I did\nnot know it was ready to fall, and so might have gone into it. My\ndaughter would certainly have been stolen from me; and a wicked woman\nbeen still alive. So now, to-morrow, bring as many carts as you like,\nand I will give you as a present as many rupees as you can take away\non them in half a day.\"\n\nEarly the next morning the merchant's son brought his cart and took\naway on them as many rupees as he could in half a day. His wife was\ndelighted when she saw the money, and said, \"My husband only worked\nfor one week, and yet he earned all these rupees!\" And they lived\nalways happily.\n\n Told by M\u00faniy\u00e1, February 23rd, 1879.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n [5] That is, a resting-place for travellers, composed of a number\n of small houses in a walled enclosure.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXXVII.\n\nP\u00c1NWPATT\u00cd R\u00c1N\u00cd.\n\n\nIn a country a big fair was held, to which came a great many people\nand R\u00e1j\u00e1s from all the countries round. Among them was a R\u00e1j\u00e1 who\nbrought his daughter with him. Opposite their tent another tent was\npitched, in which lived a R\u00e1j\u00e1's son. He was very beautiful; so was\nthe little R\u00e1n\u00ed, the other R\u00e1j\u00e1's daughter.\n\nNow, the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son and the R\u00e1j\u00e1's daughter did not even know each\nother's names, but they looked at each other a great deal, and each\nthought the other very beautiful. \"How lovely the R\u00e1j\u00e1's daughter is!\"\nthought the prince. \"How beautiful the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son is!\" thought the\nprincess.\n\nThey lived opposite each other for a whole month, and all that time\nthey never spoke to each other nor did they speak of each other to any\none. But they thought of each other a great deal.\n\nWhen the month was over, the little R\u00e1n\u00ed's father said he would go\nback to his own country. The R\u00e1j\u00e1's son sat in his tent and watched\nthe servants getting ready the little R\u00e1n\u00ed's palanquin. As soon as the\nprincess herself was dressed and ready for the journey, she came out\nof her tent, and took a rose in her hand. She first put the rose to\nher teeth; then she stuck it behind her ear; and lastly, she laid it\nat her feet. All this time the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son sat in his tent and looked\nat her. Then she got into her palanquin and was carried away.\n\nThe R\u00e1j\u00e1's son was now very sad. \"How lovely the princess is!\" he\nthought. \"And I do not know her name, or her father's name, or the\nname of her country. So how can I ever find her? I shall never see her\nagain.\" He was very sorrowful, and determined he would go home to his\ncountry. When he got home he laid himself down on his bed, and night\nand day he lay there. He would not eat, or drink, or bathe, or change\nhis clothes. This made his father and mother very unhappy. They went\nto him often, and asked him, \"What is the matter with you? Are you\nill?\" \"I want nothing,\" he would answer. \"I don't want any doctor, or\nany medicine.\" Not one word did he say to them, or to any one else,\nabout the lovely little R\u00e1n\u00ed.\n\nThe son of the R\u00e1j\u00e1's kotw\u00e1l[6] was the prince's great friend. The two\nhad always gone to school together, and had there read in the same\nbook; they had always bathed, eaten, and played together. So when the\nprince had been at home for two days, and yet had not been to school\nor seen his friend, the kotw\u00e1l's son grew very anxious. \"Why does the\nprince not come to school?\" he said to himself. \"He has been here for\ntwo days, and yet I have not seen him. I will go and find out if\nanything is the matter. Perhaps he is ill.\"\n\nHe went, therefore, to see the prince, who was lying very miserable on\nhis bed. \"Why do you not come to school? Are you ill?\" asked his\nfriend. \"Oh, it is nothing,\" said the prince. \"Tell me what is the\nmatter,\" said the kotw\u00e1l's son; but the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son would not answer.\n\"Have you told any one what is the matter with you?\" said the kotw\u00e1l's\nson. \"No,\" answered the prince. \"Then tell me,\" said his friend; \"tell\nme the truth: what is it that troubles you?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the prince, \"at the fair there was a R\u00e1j\u00e1 who had a most\nbeautiful daughter. They lived in a tent opposite mine, and I used to\nsee her every day. She is so beautiful! But I do not know her name, or\nher father's name, or her country's name; so how can I ever find her?\"\n\"I will take you to her,\" said his friend; \"only get up and bathe, and\neat.\" \"How can you take me to her?\" said the prince. \"You do not even\nknow where she is; so how can you take me to her?\" \"Did she never\nspeak to you?\" said the kotw\u00e1l's son. \"Never,\" said the prince. \"But\nwhen she was going away, just before she got into her palanquin, she\ntook a rose in her hand; and first she put this rose to her teeth;\nthen she stuck it behind her ear; and then she laid it at her feet.\"\n\"Now I know all about her,\" said his friend. \"When she put the rose to\nher teeth, she meant to tell you her father's name was R\u00e1j\u00e1 D\u00e1nt [R\u00e1j\u00e1\nTooth]; when she put it behind her ear she meant you to know her\ncountry's name was Karn\u00e1tak [on the ear]; and when she laid the rose\nat her feet, she meant that her name was P\u00e1nwpatt\u00ed [Foot-leaf]. Get\nup; bathe and dress, eat and drink, and we will go and find her.\"\n\nThe prince got up directly, and told his father and mother he was\ngoing for a few days to eat the air of another country. At first they\nforbad his going; but then they reflected that he had been very ill,\nand that perhaps the air of another country might make him well; so at\nlast they consented. The prince and his friend had two horses saddled\nand bridled, and set off together.\n\nAt the end of a month they arrived in a country where they asked (as\nthey had asked in every other country through which they had ridden),\n\"What is the name of this country?\" \"Karn\u00e1tak\" [the Carnatic]. \"What\nis your R\u00e1j\u00e1's name?\" \"R\u00e1j\u00e1 D\u00e1nt.\" Then the two friends were glad.\nThey stopped at an old woman's house, and said to her, \"Let us stay\nwith you for a few days. We are men from another country and do not\nknow where to go in this place.\" The old woman said, \"You may stay\nwith me if you like. I live all alone, and there is plenty of room for\nyou.\"\n\nAfter two or three days the kotw\u00e1l's son said to the old woman, \"Has\nyour R\u00e1j\u00e1 a daughter?\" \"Yes,\" she answered; \"he has a daughter; her\nname is P\u00e1nwpatt\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed.\" \"Can you go to see her?\" asked the kotw\u00e1l's\nson. \"Yes,\" she said, \"I can go to see her. I was her nurse, and she\ndrank my milk. It is the R\u00e1j\u00e1 who gives me my house, and my food, and\nclothes--everything that I have.\" \"Then go and see her,\" said the\nkotw\u00e1l's son, \"and tell her that the prince whom she called to her at\nthe fair has come.\"\n\nThe old woman went up to the palace, and saw the princess. After they\nhad talked together for some time, she said to the little R\u00e1n\u00ed, \"The\nprince you called to you at the fair is come.\" \"Good,\" she said; \"tell\nhim to come to see me to-night at twelve o'clock. He is not to come in\nthrough the door, but through the window.\" (This she said because she\ndid not want her father to know that the prince had come, until she\nhad made up her mind whether she would marry him.)\n\nThe old woman went home and told the kotw\u00e1l's son what the Princess\nP\u00e1nwpatt\u00ed said. That night the prince went to see her, and every night\nfor three or four nights he went to talk with her for an hour. Then\nshe told her mother she wished to be married, and her mother told her\nfather. Her father asked whom she wished to marry, and she said, \"The\nR\u00e1j\u00e1's son who lives in my nurse's house.\" Her father said she might\nmarry him if she liked; so the wedding was held. The kotw\u00e1l's son went\nto the wedding, and then returned to the old woman's house; but the\nprince lived in the R\u00e1j\u00e1's palace.\n\nHere he stayed for a month, and all that time he never saw his friend.\nAt last he began to fret for him, and was very unhappy. \"What makes\nyou so sad?\" said P\u00e1nwpatt\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed. \"I am sad because I have not seen\nmy friend for a whole month,\" answered her husband. \"I must go and see\nhim.\" \"Yes, go and see him,\" said his wife. The R\u00e1j\u00e1's son went to the\nold woman's house, and there he stayed a week, for he was so glad to\nsee the kotw\u00e1l's son. Then he returned to his wife. Now she thought he\nwould only have been away a day, and was very angry at his having\nstayed so long from her. \"How could you leave me for a whole week?\"\nshe said to him. \"I had not seen my friend for a month,\" he answered.\nP\u00e1nwpatt\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed did not let her husband see how angry she was; but in\nher heart she thought, \"I am sure he loves his friend best.\"\n\nThe prince remained with her for a month. Then he said, \"I must go and\nsee my friend.\" This made her very angry indeed. However, she said,\n\"Good; go and see your friend, and I will make you some delicious\nsweetmeats to take him from me.\" She set to work, and made the most\ntempting sweetmeats she could; only in each she put a strong poison.\nThen she wrapped them in a beautiful handkerchief, and her husband\ntook them to the kotw\u00e1l's son. \"My R\u00e1n\u00ed has made you these herself,\"\nhe said to his friend, \"and she sends you a great many salaams.\" The\nR\u00e1j\u00e1's son knew nothing of the poison.\n\nThe kotw\u00e1l's son put the sweetmeats on one side, and said, \"Let us\ntalk, and I will eat them by and by.\" So they sat and talked for a\nlong time. Then the kotw\u00e1l's son said, \"Your R\u00e1n\u00ed herself made these\nsweetmeats for me?\" \"Yes,\" said the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son. His friend was very\nwise, and he thought, \"P\u00e1nwpatt\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed does not like me. Of that I am\nsure.\" So he took some of the sweetmeats, and broke them into bits and\nthrew them to the crows. The crows came flying down, and all the crows\nwho ate the sweetmeats died instantly. Then the kotw\u00e1l's son threw a\nsweetmeat to a dog that was passing. The dog devoured it and fell\ndead. This put the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son into great rage. \"I will never see my\nR\u00e1n\u00ed again!\" he exclaimed. \"What a wicked woman she is to try and\npoison my friend--my friend whom I love so dearly; but for whom I\nshould never have married her!\" He would not go back to his wife, and\nstayed in the old woman's house. The kotw\u00e1l's son often told him he\nought to return to his wife, but the prince would not do so. \"No,\" he\nsaid, \"she is a wicked woman. You never did her any evil or hurt; yet\nshe has tried to poison you. I will never see her again.\"\n\nWhen a month had passed, the kotw\u00e1l's son said to the prince, \"You\nreally must go back to P\u00e1nwpatt\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed; she is your wife, and you must\ngo to her, and take her away to your own country.\" Still the R\u00e1j\u00e1's\nson declared he would never see her again. \"If you would like to see\nsomething that will please you,\" said his friend, \"go back to your\nwife for one day; and to-night 'when she is asleep' you must take off\nall her jewels, and tie them up in a handkerchief, and bring them to\nme. But before you leave her you must wound her in the leg with this\ntrident.\" So saying, he gave him a small iron trident.\n\nThe prince went back to the palace. His wife was very angry with him,\nthough she did not show her anger. At night 'when she was fast asleep'\nhe took off all her jewels and tied them in a handkerchief, and he\ngave her a thrust in the leg with his trident. Then he went quickly\nback to his friend. The princess awoke and found herself badly hurt\nand alone; and she saw that her jewels were all gone. In the morning\nshe told her father and mother that her jewels had been stolen; but\nshe said nothing about the wound in her leg. The king called his\nservants, and told them a thief had come in the night and stolen his\ndaughter's jewels, and he sent them to look for the thief and seize\nhim.\n\nThat morning the kotw\u00e1l's son got up and dressed himself like a yog\u00ed.\nHe made the prince put on common clothes such as every one wears, so\nthat he could not be recognized, and sent him to the bazar to sell his\nwife's jewels. He told him, too, all he was to say. The pretended yog\u00ed\nwent to the river and sat down by it, and the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son went through\nthe bazar and tried to sell the jewels. The R\u00e1j\u00e1's servants seized him\nimmediately. \"You thief!\" they said to him, \"what made you steal our\nR\u00e1j\u00e1's daughter's jewels?\" \"I know nothing about the jewels,\" said the\nprince. \"I am no thief; I did not steal them. The holy man, who is my\nteacher, gave them to me to sell in the bazar for him. If you want to\nknow anything more about them, you must ask him.\" \"Where is this holy\nman?\" said the servants. \"He is sitting by the river,\" said the R\u00e1j\u00e1's\nson. \"Let us go to him. I will show you where he is.\"\n\nThey all went down to the river, and there sat the yog\u00ed. \"What is all\nthis?\" said the servants to him. \"Are you a yog\u00ed, and yet a thief? Why\ndid you steal the little R\u00e1n\u00ed's jewels?\" \"Are those the little R\u00e1n\u00ed's\njewels?\" said the yog\u00ed. \"I did not steal them; I did not know to whom\nthey belonged. Listen, and I will tell you. Last night at twelve\no'clock I was sitting by this river when a woman came down to it--a\nwoman I did not know. She took a dead body out of the river, and began\nto eat it. This made me so angry, that I took all her jewels from her,\nand she ran away. I ran after her and wounded her in the leg with my\ntrident. I don't know if she were your R\u00e1j\u00e1's daughter, or who she\nwas; but whoever she may be, she has the mark of the trident's teeth\nin her leg.\"\n\nThe servants took the jewels up to the palace, and told the R\u00e1j\u00e1 all\nthe yog\u00ed had said. The R\u00e1j\u00e1 asked his wife whether the Princess\nP\u00e1nwpatt\u00ed had any hurt in her leg, and told her all the yog\u00ed's story.\nThe R\u00e1n\u00ed went to see her daughter, and found her lying on her bed and\nunable to get up from the pain she was in, and when she looked at her\nleg she saw the wound. She returned to the R\u00e1j\u00e1 and said to him, \"Our\ndaughter has the mark of the trident's teeth in her leg.\"\n\nThe R\u00e1j\u00e1 got very angry, and called his servants and said to them,\n\"Bring a palanquin, and take my daughter at once to the jungle, and\nthere leave her. She is a wicked woman, who goes to the river at night\nto eat dead people. I will not have her in my house any more. Cast her\nout in the jungle.\" The servants did as they were bid, and left\nP\u00e1nwpatt\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed, crying and sobbing in the jungle, partly from the pain\nin her leg, and partly because she did not know where to go, and had\nno food or water.\n\nMeanwhile her husband and the kotw\u00e1l's son heard of her being sent\ninto the jungle, so they returned to the old woman's house and put on\ntheir own clothes. Then they went to the jungle to find her. She was\nstill crying, and her husband asked her why she cried. She told him,\nand he said, \"Why did you try to poison my friend? You were very\nwicked to do so.\" \"Yes,\" said the kotw\u00e1l's son; \"Why did you try to\nkill me? I have never done you any wrong or hurt you. It was I who\ntold your husband what you meant by putting the rose to your teeth,\nbehind your ear, and at your feet. Without me he would never have\nfound you, never have married you.\" Then she knew at once who had\nbrought all this trouble to her, and she was very sorry she had tried\nto kill her husband's friend.\n\nThey all three now went home to her husband's country; and his father\nand mother were very glad indeed that their son had married a R\u00e1j\u00e1's\ndaughter, and the R\u00e1j\u00e1 gave the kotw\u00e1l's son a very grand present.\n\nThe young R\u00e1j\u00e1 and his wife lived with his father and mother, and were\nalways very happy together.\n\n Told by M\u00faniy\u00e1, February, 1879.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n [6] The chief police officer in a town.\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXXVIII.\n\nTHE CLEVER WIFE.\n\n\nIn a country there was a merchant who traded in all kinds of\nmerchandise, and used to make journeys from country to country in his\nboat to buy and sell his goods. He one day said to his wife, \"I cannot\nstay at home any more, for I must go on a year's journey to carry on\nmy business.\" And he added, laughing, \"When I return I expect to find\nyou have built me a grand well; and also, as you are such a clever\nwife, to see a little son.\" Then he got into his boat and went away.\n\nWhen he was gone his wife set to work, and she spun four hanks of\nbeautiful thread with her own hands. Then she dressed herself in her\nprettiest clothes, and put on her finest jewels. \"I am going to the\nbazar,\" she said to her ayahs, \"to sell this thread.\" \"That is not\nright,\" said one of the ayahs. \"You must not sell your thread\nyourself, but let me sell it for you. What will your husband say if he\nhears you have been selling thread in the bazar?\" \"I will sell my\nthread myself,\" answered the merchant's wife. \"You could never sell it\nfor me.\"\n\nSo off she set to the bazar, and every one in it said, \"What a\nbeautiful woman that is!\" At last the kotw\u00e1l saw her, and came to her\nat once.\n\n\"What beautiful thread!\" he said. \"Is it for sale?\" \"Yes,\" she said.\n\"How much a hank?\" said the kotw\u00e1l. \"Fifty rupees,\" she answered.\n\"Fifty rupees! Who will ever give you fifty rupees for it?\" \"I will\nnot sell it for less,\" said the woman. \"I shall get fifty rupees for\nit.\" \"Well,\" said the kotw\u00e1l, \"I will give you the fifty rupees. Can I\ndine with you at your house?\" \"Yes,\" she answered, \"to-night at ten\no'clock.\" Then he took the thread and gave her fifty rupees.\n\nThen she went away to another bazar, and there the king's waz\u00edr saw\nher trying to sell her thread. \"What lovely thread! Is it for sale?\"\nhe said. \"Yes, at one hundred rupees the hank,\" she answered. \"Well, I\nwill give you one hundred rupees. Can I dine with you at your house?\"\nsaid the waz\u00edr. \"Yes,\" she answered, \"to-night at eleven o'clock.\"\n\"Good,\" said the waz\u00edr; \"here are the hundred rupees.\" And he took the\nthread and went away.\n\nThe merchant's wife now went to a third bazar, and there the king's\nk\u00e1z\u00ed saw her. \"Is that beautiful thread for sale?\" he asked. \"Yes,\"\nshe answered, \"for one hundred and fifty rupees.\" \"I will give you the\nhundred and fifty rupees. Can I dine with you at your house?\" \"Yes,\"\nshe said, \"to-night at twelve o'clock.\" \"I will come,\" said the k\u00e1z\u00ed.\n\"Here are one hundred and fifty rupees.\" So she took the rupees and\ngave him the thread.\n\nShe set off with the fourth hank to the fourth bazar, and in this\nbazar was the king's palace. The king saw her, and asked if the thread\nwas for sale. \"Yes,\" she said, \"for five hundred rupees.\" \"Give me the\nthread,\" said the king; \"here are your five hundred rupees. Can I dine\nwith you at your house?\" \"Yes,\" she said, \"to-night at two o'clock.\"\n\nThen she went home and sent one of her servants to the bazar to buy\nher four large chests; and she told her other servants that they were\nto get ready four very good dinners for her. Each dinner was to be\nserved in a different room; and one was to be ready at ten o'clock\nthat night, one at eleven, one at twelve, and one at two in the\nmorning. The servant brought her four large chests, and she had them\nplaced in four different rooms.\n\nAt ten o'clock the kotw\u00e1l arrived. The merchant's wife greeted him\ngraciously, and they sat down and dined. After dinner she said to him,\n\"Can you play at cards?\" \"Yes,\" he answered. She brought some cards,\nand they sat and played till the clock struck eleven, when the\ndoorkeeper came in to say, \"The waz\u00edr is here, and wishes to see you.\"\nThe kotw\u00e1l was in a dreadful fright. \"Do hide me somewhere,\" he said\nto her. \"I have no place where you can hide in this room,\" she\nanswered; \"but in another room I have a big chest. I will shut you up\nin that if you like, and when the waz\u00edr is gone, I will let you out of\nit.\" So she took him into the next room, and he got into one of the\nfour big chests, and she shut down the lid and locked it.\n\nThen she bade the doorkeeper bring in the waz\u00edr, and they dined\ntogether. After dinner she said, \"Can you play at cards?\" \"Yes,\" said\nthe waz\u00edr. She took out the cards, and they played till twelve\no'clock, when the doorkeeper came to say the k\u00e1z\u00ed had come to see her.\n\"Oh, hide me! hide me!\" cried the waz\u00edr in a great fright. \"If you\ncome to another room,\" she said, \"I will hide you in a big chest I\nhave. I can let you out when he is gone.\" So she locked the waz\u00edr up\nin the second chest.\n\nShe and the k\u00e1z\u00ed now dined. Then she said, \"Can you play at cards?\"\n\"Yes,\" said the k\u00e1z\u00ed. So they sat playing at cards till two o'clock,\nwhen the doorkeeper said the king had come to see her. \"Oh, what shall\nI do?\" said the k\u00e1z\u00ed, terribly frightened. \"Do hide me. Do not let me\nbe seen by the king.\" \"You can hide in a big chest I have in another\nroom, if you like,\" she answered, \"till he is gone.\" And she locked up\nthe k\u00e1z\u00ed in her third chest.\n\nThe king now came in, and they dined. \"Will you play a little game at\ncards?\" she asked. \"Yes,\" said the king. So they played till three\no'clock, when the doorkeeper came running in (just as she had told him\nto do) to say, \"My master's boat has arrived, and he is coming up to\nthe house. He will be here directly.\" \"Now what shall I do?\" said the\nking, who was as frightened as the others had been. \"Here is your\nhusband. He must not see me. You must hide me somewhere.\" \"I have no\nplace to hide you in,\" she said, \"but a big chest. You can get into\nthat if you like, and I will let you out to-morrow morning.\" So she\nshut the lid of the fourth chest down on the king and locked him up.\nThen she went to bed, and to sleep, and slept till morning.\n\nThe next day, after she had bathed and dressed, and eaten her\nbreakfast, and done all her household work, she said to her servants,\n\"I want four coolies.\" So the servants went for the coolies; and when\nthey came she showed them the four chests, and said, \"Each of you must\ntake one of these chests on your head and come with me.\" Then they set\nout with her, each carrying a chest.\n\nMeanwhile the kotw\u00e1l's son, the waz\u00edr's son, the k\u00e1z\u00ed's son, and the\nking's son, had been roaming about looking everywhere for their\nfathers, and asking every one if they had seen them, but no one knew\nanything about them.\n\nThe merchant's wife went first to the kotw\u00e1l's house, and there she\nsaw the kotw\u00e1l's son. She had the kotw\u00e1l's chest set down on the\nground before his door. \"Will you buy this chest?\" she said to his\nson. \"What is in it?\" he asked. \"A most precious thing,\" she answered.\n\"How much do you want for it?\" said his son. \"One thousand rupees,\"\nshe said; \"and when you open the chest, you will see the contents are\nworth two thousand. But you must not open it till you are in your\nfather's house.\" \"Well,\" said the kotw\u00e1l's son, \"here are a thousand\nrupees.\" The woman and the other three chests went on their way, while\nhe took his into the house. \"What a heavy chest!\" he said. \"What can\nbe inside?\" Then he lifted the lid. \"Why, there's my father!\" he\ncried. \"Father, how came you to be in this chest?\" The kotw\u00e1l was very\nmuch ashamed of himself. \"I never thought she was the woman to play me\nsuch a trick,\" he said; and then he had to tell his son the whole\nstory.\n\nThe merchant's wife next stopped at the waz\u00edr's house, and there she\nsaw the waz\u00edr's son. The waz\u00edr's chest was put down before his door,\nand she said to his son, \"Will you buy this chest?\" \"What is inside of\nit?\" he asked. \"A most precious thing,\" she answered. \"Will you buy\nit?\" \"How much do you want for it?\" asked the son. \"Only two thousand\nrupees, and it is worth three thousand.\" So the waz\u00edr's son bought his\nfather, without knowing it, for two thousand rupees. \"You must not\nopen the chest till you are in the house,\" said the merchant's wife.\nThe waz\u00edr's son opened the chest in the house at once, wondering what\ncould be in it; and the waz\u00edr's wife stood by all the time. When they\nsaw the waz\u00edr himself, looking very much ashamed, they were greatly\nastonished. \"How came you there?\" they cried. \"Where have you been?\"\nsaid his wife. \"Oh,\" said the waz\u00edr, \"I never thought she was a woman\nto treat me like this;\" and he, too, had to tell all his story.\n\nNow the merchant's wife stopped at the k\u00e1z\u00ed's door, and there stood\nthe k\u00e1z\u00ed's son. \"Will you buy this chest?\" she said to him, and had\nthe k\u00e1z\u00ed's chest put on the ground. \"What is in it?\" said the k\u00e1z\u00ed's\nson. \"Silver and gold,\" she answered. \"You shall have it for three\nthousand rupees. The contents are worth four.\" \"Well, I will take it,\"\nsaid the son. \"Don't open it till you are in your house,\" she said,\nand took her three thousand rupees and went away. Great was the\nexcitement when the k\u00e1z\u00ed stepped out of the chest. \"Oh!\" he groaned,\n\"I never thought she could behave like this to me.\"\n\nThe merchant's wife now went to the palace, and set the king's chest\ndown at the palace gates. There she saw the king's son. \"Will you buy\nthis chest?\" she said. \"What is in it?\" asked the prince. \"Diamonds,\npearls, and all kinds of precious stones,\" said the merchant's wife.\n\"You shall have the chest for five thousand rupees, but its contents\nare worth a great deal more.\" \"Well,\" said the king's son, \"here are\nyour five thousand rupees; give me the chest.\" \"Don't open it out\nhere,\" she said. \"Take it into the palace and open it there.\" And away\nshe went home.\n\nThe king's son opened the chest, and there was his father. \"What's all\nthis?\" cried the prince. \"How came _you_ to be in the chest?\" The king\nwas very much ashamed, and did not tell much about his adventure; but\nwhen he was sitting in his court-house, he had the merchant's wife\nbrought to him, and gave her a quantity of rupees, saying, \"You are a\nwise and clever woman.\"\n\nNow the kotw\u00e1l knew the waz\u00edr had gone to see the merchant's wife; and\nthe waz\u00edr knew the k\u00e1z\u00ed had gone; and the k\u00e1z\u00ed, that the king had\ngone; but this was all that any of them knew.\n\nThe merchant's wife had now plenty of rupees, so she had a most\nbeautiful well built and roofed over. Then she locked the door of the\nwell, and told the servants no one was to drink any of its water, or\nbathe in it, till her husband came home: he was to be the first to\ndrink its water, and bathe in the well.\n\nThen she sent her ayah to the bazar to buy her clothes and ornaments\nsuch as cowherd's wives and daughter's wear; and when the ayah had\nbrought her these, she packed them up in a box. Then she dressed\nherself in men's clothes, so that no one could tell she was a woman,\nand ordered a horse to be got ready for her. \"I am going to eat the\nair of another country for a little while,\" she said. \"You must all\ntake great care of the house while I am away.\" The servants did not\nlike her going away at all; they were afraid her husband might return\nduring her absence, and that he would be angry with them for having\nlet her go. \"Don't be afraid,\" she said. \"There is nothing to be\nfrightened about. I shall come back all right.\"\n\nSo she set out, taking the key of the well, the box with the clothes\nher ayah had bought for her in the bazar, and plenty of rupees. She\nalso took two of her servants. She travelled a long, long way, asking\neverywhere for her husband's boat. At last at the end of a month she\ncame to where it was. Here she hired a little house, and dressed\nherself like a cowherd's daughter. Then she got some very good milk,\nand went down to the banks of the river to sell it. Everybody said,\n\"Do look what a beautiful woman that is selling milk!\" She sold her\nmilk very quickly, it was so good. This she did for several days, till\nher husband, the merchant, saw her. He thought her so beautiful, that\nhe asked her to bring him some milk to his boat. So every day for a\nlittle while she sold him milk. One day he said to her, \"Will you\nmarry me?\" \"How can I marry you?\" she said. \"You are a merchant, and I\nam a cowherd's daughter. Soon you will be leaving this country, and\nwill travel to another in your boat; you will want me to go with you.\nThen I shall have to leave my father and mother, and who will take\ncare of them?\" \"Let us be married,\" said the merchant. \"I am going to\nstay here for three months. When I go, you shall return to your father\nand mother, and later I will come back to you.\" To this she agreed,\nand they were married, and she went to live in the boat. At the end\nof three months, the merchant said to her, \"My business here is done,\nand I must go to another country. Would you like to go home to your\nfather and mother while I am away?\" \"Yes,\" she said. \"Here are some\nrupees for you to live on in my absence,\" he said. \"I do not want any\nrupees,\" said his wife. \"I only want you to give me two things: your\nold cap, and your picture.\" These he gave her, and then he went to his\nboat, and she went back to her own home.\n\nSome time afterwards she had a little son. The servants were greatly\nfrightened, for they thought their master would not be pleased when he\ncame home; and he was not pleased when he did come two months later.\nHe was so cross that he would not look at the baby-boy, and he would\nhardly look at his beautiful well.\n\nOne night he lay awake thinking, and he thought he would kill his wife\nand her little son. But the next day she came to him: \"Tell me the\ntruth,\" she said; \"you are angry with me? Don't be angry, for I want\nto show you a picture I like very much--the picture of my boy's\nfather.\" Then she showed him his own picture, and the old cap he had\ngiven her on board his boat; and she told him how she had been the\ncowherd's daughter; and also how she had gained the money to build his\nwell. \"You see,\" she said, \"I have done all you bade me. Here is your\nwell, and here is your son.\" Then the merchant was very happy. He\nkissed and loved his little son, and thought his well was beautiful;\nand he said to his wife, \"What a clever woman you are!\"\n\n Told by M\u00faniy\u00e1, Calcutta, March 3rd, 1879.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXXIX.\n\nR\u00c1J\u00c1 HARICHAND'S PUNISHMENT.\n\n\nThere was once a great R\u00e1j\u00e1, R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand, who every morning before\nhe bathed and breakfasted used to give away one hundred pounds weight\nof gold to the fak\u00edrs, his poor ryots, and other poor people. This he\ndid in the name of God, \"For,\" he said, \"God loves me and gives me\neverything that I have; so daily I will give him this gold.\"\n\nNow God heard what a good man R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand was, and how much the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1 loved him, and he thought he would go and see for himself if all\nthat was said of the R\u00e1j\u00e1 were true. He therefore went as a fak\u00edr to\nR\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand's palace and stood at his gate. The R\u00e1j\u00e1 had already\ngiven away his hundred pounds' weight of gold, and gone into his\npalace and bathed and breakfasted; so when his servants came to tell\nhim that another fak\u00edr stood at his gate, the R\u00e1j\u00e1 said, \"Bid him come\nto-morrow, for I have bathed, and have eaten my breakfast, and\ntherefore cannot attend to him now.\" The servants returned to the\nfak\u00edr, and told him, \"The R\u00e1j\u00e1 says you must come to-morrow, for he\ncannot see you now, as he has bathed and breakfasted.\" God went away,\nand the next day he again came, after all the fak\u00edrs and poor people\nhad received their gold and the R\u00e1j\u00e1 had gone into his palace. So the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1 told his servants, \"Bid the fak\u00edr come to-morrow. He has again\ncome too late for me to see him now.\"\n\nOn the third day God was once more too late, for the R\u00e1j\u00e1 had gone\ninto his palace. The R\u00e1j\u00e1 was vexed with him for being a third time\ntoo late, and said to his servants, \"What sort of a fak\u00edr is this that\nhe always comes too late? Go and ask him what he wants.\" So the\nservants went to the fak\u00edr and said, \"R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand says, 'What do\nyou want from him?'\" \"I want no rupees,\" answered God, \"nor anything\nelse; but I want him to give me his wife.\" The servants told this to\nthe R\u00e1j\u00e1, and it made him very angry. He went to his wife, the R\u00e1n\u00ed\nB\u00e1han, and said to her, \"There is a fak\u00edr at the gate who asks me to\ngive you to him! As if I should ever do such a thing! Fancy my giving\nhim my wife!\"\n\nThe R\u00e1n\u00ed was very wise and clever, for she had a book, which she read\ncontinually, called the kop sh\u00e1stra; and this book told her\neverything. So she knew that the fak\u00edr at the gate was no fak\u00edr, but\nGod himself. (In old days about two people in a thousand, though not\nmore, could read this book; now-a-days hardly any one can read it, for\nit is far too difficult.) So the R\u00e1n\u00ed said to the R\u00e1j\u00e1, \"Go to this\nfak\u00edr, and say to him, 'You shall have my wife.' You need not really\ngive me to him; only give me to him in your thoughts.\" \"I will do no\nsuch thing,\" said the R\u00e1j\u00e1 in a rage; and in spite of all her\nentreaties, he would not say to the fak\u00edr, \"I will give you my wife.\"\nHe ordered his servants to beat the fak\u00edr, and send him away; and so\nthey did.\n\nGod returned to his place, and called to him two angels. \"Take the\nform of men,\" he said to them, \"and go to R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand. Say to him,\n'God has sent us to you. He says, Which will you have--a twelve years'\nfamine throughout your land during which no rain will fall? or a great\nrain for twelve hours?'\"\n\nThe angels came to the R\u00e1j\u00e1 and said as God had bidden them. The R\u00e1j\u00e1\nthought for a long while which he should choose. \"If a great rain\npours down for twelve hours,\" he said to himself, \"my whole country\nwill be washed away. But I have a great quantity of gold. I have\nenough to send to other countries and buy food for myself and my ryots\nduring the twelve years' famine.\" So he said to the angels, \"I will\nchoose the famine.\" Then the angels came into his palace; and the\nmoment they entered it, all the R\u00e1j\u00e1's servants that were in the\npalace, and all his cows, horses, elephants, and other animals became\nstone. So did every single thing in the palace, excepting his gold and\nsilver, and these turned to charcoal. The R\u00e1j\u00e1 and R\u00e1n\u00ed did not become\nstone.\n\nThe angels said to them, \"For three weeks you will not be able to eat\nanything; you will not be able to eat any food you may find or may\nhave given you. But you will not die, you will live.\" Then the angels\nwent away.\n\nThe R\u00e1j\u00e1 was very sad when he looked round his palace and saw\neverything in it, and all the people in it, stone, and saw all his\ngold and silver turned to charcoal. He said to his wife, \"I cannot\nstay here. I must go to some other country. I was a great R\u00e1j\u00e1; how\ncan I ask my ryots to give me food? We will dress ourselves like\nfak\u00edrs, and go to another country.\"\n\nThey put on fak\u00edrs' clothes and went out of their palace. They\nwandered in the jungle till they saw a plum-tree covered with fruit.\n\"Do gather some of those plums for me,\" said the R\u00e1n\u00ed, who was very\nhungry. The R\u00e1j\u00e1 went to the tree and put out his hand to gather the\nplums; but when he did this, they at once all left the tree and went a\nlittle way up into the air. When he drew back his hand, the plums\nreturned to the tree. The R\u00e1j\u00e1 tried three times to gather the plums,\nbut never could do so.\n\nHe and the R\u00e1n\u00ed then went on till they came to a plain in another\ncountry, where was a large tank in which men were fishing. The R\u00e1n\u00ed\nsaid to her husband, \"Go and ask those men to give us a little of\ntheir fish, for I am very hungry.\" The R\u00e1j\u00e1 went to the men and said,\n\"I am a fak\u00edr, and have no pice. Will you give me some of your fish,\nfor I have not eaten for four days and am hungry?\" The men gave him\nsome fish, and he and his wife carried it to a tank on another plain.\nThe R\u00e1n\u00ed cleaned and prepared the fish for cooking, and said to her\nhusband, \"I have nothing in which to cook this fish. Go up to the town\n(there was a town close by) and ask some one to give you an earthen\npot with a lid, and some salt.\"\n\nThe R\u00e1j\u00e1 went up to the town, and some one in the bazar gave him the\nearthen pot, and a grain merchant put a little salt into it. Then he\nreturned to the R\u00e1n\u00ed, and they made a fire under a tree, put the fish\ninto the pot, and set the pot on the fire. \"I have not bathed for some\ndays,\" said the R\u00e1j\u00e1. \"I will go and bathe while you cook the fish,\nand when I come back we will eat it.\" So he went to bathe, and the\nR\u00e1n\u00ed sat watching the fish. Presently she thought, \"If I leave the lid\non the pot, the fish will dry up and burn.\" Then she took off the lid,\nand the fish instantly jumped out of the pot into the tank and swam\naway. This made the R\u00e1n\u00ed sad; but she sat there quiet and silent. When\nthe R\u00e1j\u00e1 had bathed, he returned to his wife, and said, \"Now we will\neat our fish.\" The R\u00e1n\u00ed answered, \"I had not eaten for four days, and\nwas very hungry, so I ate all the fish.\" \"Never mind,\" said the R\u00e1j\u00e1,\n\"it does not matter.\"\n\nThey wandered on, and the next day came to another jungle where they\nsaw two pigeons. The R\u00e1j\u00e1 took some grass and sticks, and made a bow\nand arrow. He shot the pigeons with these, and the R\u00e1n\u00ed plucked and\ncleaned them. Her husband and she made a little fire, put the pigeons\nin their pot, and set them on it. There was a tank near. \"Now I will\ngo and bathe,\" said the R\u00e1n\u00ed; \"I have not bathed for some days. When I\ncome back, we will eat the pigeons.\" So she went to bathe, and the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1 sat down to watch the pigeons. Presently he thought, \"If I leave\nthe pot shut, the birds will dry up and burn.\" So he took off the lid,\nand instantly away flew the pigeons out of the pot. He guessed at once\nwhat the fish had done yesterday, and sat still and silent till the\nR\u00e1n\u00ed came back. \"I have eaten the pigeons in the same way that you ate\nthe fish yesterday,\" he said to her. The R\u00e1n\u00ed understood what had\nhappened, and saw the R\u00e1j\u00e1 knew how the fish had escaped.\n\nSo they wandered on; and as they went the R\u00e1n\u00ed remembered an oil\nmerchant, called Gang\u00e1 T\u00e9l\u00ed, a friend of theirs, and a great man, just\nlike a R\u00e1j\u00e1. \"Let us go to Gang\u00e1 T\u00e9l\u00ed, if we can walk as far as his\nhouse,\" she said. \"He will be good to us.\" He lived a long way off.\nWhen they got to him, Gang\u00e1 T\u00e9l\u00ed knew them at once. \"What has\nhappened?\" he said. \"You were a great R\u00e1j\u00e1; why are you and the R\u00e1n\u00ed\nso poor and dressed like fak\u00edrs?\" \"It is God's will,\" they answered.\nGang\u00e1 T\u00e9l\u00ed did not think it worth while to notice them much now they\nwere poor; so, though he did not send them away, he gave them a\nwretched room to live in, a wretched bed to lie on, and such bad food\nto eat that, hungry as they were, they could not touch it. \"When we\nwere rich,\" they said to each other, \"and came to stay with Gang\u00e1\nT\u00e9l\u00ed, he received us like friends; he gave us beautiful rooms to live\nin, beautiful beds to lie on, and delicious food to eat. We cannot\nstay here.\"\n\nSo they went away very sorrowful, and wandered for a whole week, and\nall the time they had no food, till they came to another country whose\nR\u00e1j\u00e1, R\u00e1j\u00e1 Bhoj, was one of their friends. R\u00e1j\u00e1 Bhoj received them\nvery kindly. \"What has brought you to this state? How is it you are so\npoor?\" he said. \"What has happened to you?\" \"It is God's will,\" they\nanswered. R\u00e1j\u00e1 Bhoj gave them a beautiful room to live in, and told\nhis servants to cook for them the very nicest dinner they could. This\nthe servants did, and they brought the dinner into R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand's\nroom, and set it before him and left him. Then he and the R\u00e1n\u00ed put\nsome of the food on their plates; but before they could eat anything,\nthe food both in the dishes and on their plates became full of\nmaggots. So they could not eat it. They felt greatly humbled. However,\nthey said nothing, but worshipped God; and they buried all the food in\na hole they dug in the floor of their room.\n\nNow the daughter of R\u00e1j\u00e1 Bhoj had left her gold necklace hanging on\nthe wall of the room in which were R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand and the R\u00e1n\u00ed B\u00e1han.\nAt night when R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand was asleep, the R\u00e1n\u00ed saw a crack come in\nthe wall and the necklace go of itself into the crack; then the wall\njoined together as before. She at once woke her husband, and told him\nwhat she had seen. \"We had better go away quickly,\" she said. \"The\nnecklace will not be found to-morrow, and R\u00e1j\u00e1 Bhoj will think we are\nthieves. It will be useless breaking the wall open to find it.\" The\nR\u00e1j\u00e1 got up at once, and they set out again. R\u00e1j\u00e1 Bhoj, when the\nnecklace was not found, thought R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand and the R\u00e1n\u00ed B\u00e1han had\nstolen it.\n\nThey wandered on till they came to a country belonging to another\nfriend, called R\u00e1j\u00e1 Nal, but they were ashamed to go to his palace.\nThe three weeks were now nearly over, only two more days were left. So\nthe R\u00e1n\u00ed said, \"In two days we shall be able to eat. Go into the\njungle and cut grass, and sell it in the bazar. We shall thus get a\nfew pice and be able to buy a little food.\" The R\u00e1j\u00e1 went out to the\njungle, but he had to break and pull up the grass with his hands. He\nworked half the day, and then sold the grass in the bazar for a few\npice. They were able to buy food, and worshipped God and cooked it;\nand as the three weeks were now over they were allowed to eat it.\n\nThey stayed in R\u00e1j\u00e1 Nal's country, and lived in a little house they\nhired in the bazar. R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand went out every day to the jungle\nfor grass, which he pulled up or broke off with his hands, and then\nsold in the bazar for a few pice. The R\u00e1n\u00ed saved a pice or two\nwhenever she could, and at the end of two years they were rich enough\nto buy a hook such as grass-cutters use. The R\u00e1j\u00e1 could now cut more\ngrass, and soon the R\u00e1n\u00ed was able to buy some pretty-coloured silks in\nthe bazar.\n\nHer husband went daily to cut grass, and she sat at home making\nhead-collars with the silks for horses. Four years after they had\nbought the hook, she had four of these head-collars ready, and she\ntook them up to R\u00e1j\u00e1 Nal's palace to sell. It was the first time she\nhad gone there, for she and her husband were ashamed to see R\u00e1j\u00e1 Nal.\nTheir fak\u00edrs' dresses had become rags, and they had only been able to\nget wretched common clothes in their place, for they were miserably\npoor.\n\n\"What beautiful head-collars these are!\" said R\u00e1j\u00e1 Nal's coachmen and\ngrooms; and they took them to show to their R\u00e1j\u00e1. As soon as he saw\nthem he said, \"Where did you get these head-collars? Who is it that\nwishes to sell them?\" for he knew that only one woman could make such\nhead-collars, and that woman was the R\u00e1n\u00ed B\u00e1han. \"A very poor woman\nbrought them here just now,\" they answered. \"Bring her to me,\" said\nR\u00e1j\u00e1 Nal. So the servants brought him R\u00e1n\u00ed B\u00e1han, and when she saw the\nR\u00e1j\u00e1 she burst into tears. \"What has brought you to this state? Why\nare you so poor?\" said R\u00e1j\u00e1 Nal. \"It is God's will,\" she answered.\n\"Where is your husband?\" he asked. \"He is cutting grass in the\njungle,\" she said. R\u00e1j\u00e1 Nal called his servants and said, \"Go into the\njungle, and there you will see a man cutting grass. Bring him to me.\"\nWhen R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand saw R\u00e1j\u00e1 Nal's servants coming to him, he was very\nmuch frightened; but the servants took him and brought him to the\npalace. As soon as R\u00e1j\u00e1 Nal saw his old friend, he seized his hands,\nand burst out crying. \"R\u00e1j\u00e1,\" he said, \"what has brought you to this\nstate?\" \"It is God's will,\" said R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand.\n\nR\u00e1j\u00e1 Nal was very good to them. He gave them a palace to live in, and\nservants to wait on them; beautiful clothes to wear, and good food to\neat. He went with them to the palace to see that everything was as it\nshould be for them. \"To-day,\" he said to the R\u00e1n\u00ed, \"I shall dine with\nyour husband, and you must give me a dinner cooked just as you used to\ncook one for me when I went to see you in your own country.\" \"Good, I\nwill give it you,\" said the R\u00e1n\u00ed; but she was quite frightened, for\nshe thought, \"The R\u00e1j\u00e1 is so kind, and everything is so comfortable\nfor us, that I am sure something dreadful will happen.\" However, she\nprepared the dinner, and told the servants how to cook it and serve\nit; but first she worshipped God, and entreated him to have mercy on\nher and her husband. The dinner was very good, and nothing evil\nhappened to any one. They lived in the palace R\u00e1j\u00e1 Nal gave them for\nfour and a half years.\n\nMeanwhile the farmers in R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand's country had all these years\ngone on ploughing and turning up the land, although not a drop of rain\nhad fallen all that time, and the earth was hard and dry. Now just\nwhen the R\u00e1j\u00e1 and R\u00e1n\u00ed had lived in R\u00e1j\u00e1 Nal's palace for four and a\nhalf years Mah\u00e1deo was walking through R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand's country. He\nsaw the farmers digging up the ground, and said, \"What is the good of\nyour digging and turning up the ground? Not a drop of rain is going to\nfall.\" \"No,\" said the farmers, \"but if we did not go on ploughing and\ndigging, we should forget how to do our work.\" They did not know they\nwere talking to Mah\u00e1deo, for he looked like a man. \"That is true,\"\nsaid Mah\u00e1deo, and he thought, \"The farmers speak the truth; and if I\ngo on neglecting to blow on my horn, I shall forget how to blow on it\nat all.\" So he took his deer's horn, which was just like those some\nyog\u00eds use, and blew on it. Now when R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand had chosen the\ntwelve years' famine, God had said, \"Rain shall not fall on R\u00e1j\u00e1\nHarichand's country till Mah\u00e1deo blows his horn in it.\" Mah\u00e1deo had\nquite forgotten this decree; so he blew on his horn, although only ten\nand a half years' famine had gone by. The moment he blew, down came\nthe rain, and the whole country at once became as it had been before\nthe famine began; and moreover, the moment it rained, everything in\nR\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand's palace became what it was before the angels entered\nit. All the men and women came to life again; so did all the animals;\nand the gold and silver were no longer charcoal, but once more gold\nand silver. God was not angry with Mah\u00e1deo for forgetting that he said\nthe famine should last for twelve years, and that the rain should fall\nwhen Mah\u00e1deo blew on his horn in R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand's country. \"If it\npleased Mah\u00e1deo to blow on his horn,\" said God, \"it does not matter\nthat eighteen months of famine were still to last.\" As soon as they\nheard the rain had fallen, all the ryots who had gone to other\ncountries on account of the famine returned to R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand's\ncountry.\n\nAmong the R\u00e1j\u00e1's servants was the kotw\u00e1l, and very anxious he was,\nwhen he came to life again, to find the R\u00e1j\u00e1 and R\u00e1n\u00ed; only he did not\nknow how to do so, and wondered where he had best seek for them.\n\nMeanwhile the R\u00e1n\u00ed B\u00e1han had a dream that God sent her, in which an\nangel said to her, \"It is good that you and your husband should return\nto your country.\" She told this dream to her husband; and R\u00e1j\u00e1 Nal\ngave them horses, elephants, and camels, that they might travel like\nR\u00e1j\u00e1s to their home, and he went with them. They found everything in\norder in their own palace and all through their country, and after\nthis lived very happily in it. But the R\u00e1n\u00ed said to R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand,\n\"If you had only done what I told you, and said you would give me to\nthe fak\u00edr, all this misery would not have come on us.\"\n\nLater they went to stay again with R\u00e1j\u00e1 Bhoj, and slept in the same\nroom as they had had when they came to him poor and wretched. In the\nnight they saw the wall open, and the necklace came out of the crack\nand hung itself up as before, and the wall closed again. The next day\nthey showed the necklace to R\u00e1j\u00e1 Bhoj, saying, \"It was on account of\nthis necklace that we ran away from you the last time we were here,\"\nand they told him all that had happened to it.\n\nAs for Gang\u00e1 T\u00e9l\u00ed, they never went near him again.\n\n Told by M\u00faniy\u00e1, March 4th, 1879.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nXXX.\n\nTHE KING'S SON AND THE WAZ\u00cdR'S DAUGHTER.\n\n\nIn a country there was a great king who had a waz\u00edr. One day he\nthought he should like to play at cards with this waz\u00edr, and he told\nhim to go and get some for him, and then play a game with him. So the\nwaz\u00edr brought the cards, and he and the king sat down to play. Now\nneither the king nor the waz\u00edr had any children; and as they were\nplaying, the king said, \"Waz\u00edr, if I have a son and you have a\ndaughter, or if I have a daughter and you have a son, let us marry our\nchildren to each other.\" To this the waz\u00edr agreed. A year after the\nking had a son; and when the boy was two years old, the waz\u00edr had a\ndaughter. Some years passed, and the king's son was twelve years old,\nand the waz\u00edr's daughter ten. Then the king said to the waz\u00edr, \"Do you\nremember how one day, when we were playing at cards, we agreed to\nmarry our children to each other?\" \"I remember,\" said the waz\u00edr. \"Let\nus marry them now,\" said the king. So they held the wedding feast; but\nthe waz\u00edr's little daughter remained in her father's house because she\nwas still so young.\n\nAs the king's son grew older he became very wicked, and took to\ngambling and drinking till his father and mother died of grief. After\ntheir death he went on in the same way, gambling and drinking, until\nhe had no money left, and had to leave the palace, and live anywhere\nhe could in the town, wandering from house to house in a fak\u00edr's\ndress, begging his bread, and sleeping wherever he found a spot on\nwhich to lie down.\n\nMeanwhile the waz\u00edr's daughter was living alone, for her husband had\nnever come to fetch her as he should have done when she was old\nenough. Her father and mother were dead too. She had given half of the\nmoney they left her to the poor, and she lived on the other half. She\nspent her days in praying to God, and in reading in a holy book; and\nthough she was so young, she was very wise and good.\n\nOne day, as the prince was roaming about in his fak\u00edr's rags, not\nknowing where to find food or shelter, he remembered his wife, and\nthought he would go and see her. She ordered her servants to give him\ngood food, a bath, and good clothes; \"for,\" she said, \"we were married\nwhen we were children, though he never fetched me to his palace.\" The\nservants did as she bade them. The prince bathed and dressed, and ate\nfood, and he wished to stay with his wife. But she said, \"No; before\nyou stay with me you must see four sights. Go out in the jungle and\nwalk for a whole week. Then you will come to a plain where you will\nsee them.\" So the next day he set out for the plain, and reached it in\none week.\n\nThere he saw a large tank. At one corner of the tank he saw a man and\na woman who had good clothes, good food, good beds, and servants to\nwait on them, and seemed very happy. At the second corner he saw a\nwretchedly poor man and his wife, who did nothing but cry and sob\nbecause they had no food to eat, no water to drink, no bed to lie on,\nno one to take care of them. At the third corner he saw two little\nfishes that were always going up and down in the air. They would shoot\ndown close to the water, but they could not go into it or stay in it;\nthen they would make a salaam to God, and would shoot up again into\nthe air, but before they got very high, they had to drop down again.\nAt the fourth corner he saw a huge demon who was heating sand in an\nenormous iron pot, under which he kept up a big fire.\n\nThe prince returned to his wife, and told her all he had seen. \"Do you\nknow who the happy man and woman are?\" she said. \"No,\" he answered.\n\"They are my father and mother,\" she said. \"When they were alive, I\nwas good to them, and since their death I gave half their money to the\npoor; and on the other half I have lived quietly, and tried to be\ngood. So God is pleased with them, and makes them happy.\" \"Is that\ntrue?\" said her husband. \"Quite true,\" she said. \"And the miserable\nman and woman who did nothing but cry, do you know who they are?\"\n\"No,\" said the prince. \"They are your father and mother. When they\nwere alive, you gambled and drank; and they died of grief. Then you\nwent on gambling and drinking till you had spent all their money. So\nnow God is angry with them, and will not make them happy.\" \"Is that\ntrue?\" said the prince. \"Quite true,\" she said. \"And the fishes you\nsaw were the two little children we should have had if you had taken\nme to your home as your wife. Now they cannot be born, for they can\nfind no bodies in which to be born; so God has ordered them to rise\nand sink in the air in these fishes' forms.\" \"Is that true?\" asked the\nprince. \"Quite true,\" she answered. \"And by God's order the demon you\nsaw is heating that sand in the big iron pot for you, because you are\nsuch a wicked man.\"\n\nThe moment she had told all this to her husband, she died. But he did\nnot get any better. He gambled and drank all her money away, and lived\na wretched life, wandering about like a fak\u00edr till his death.\n\n Told by M\u00faniy\u00e1, March 8th, 1879.\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nNOTES.\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY.\n\nIn these stories the word translated God, is _Khud\u00e1_. Excepting in\n\"How king Burtal became a Fak\u00edr\" (p. 85), and in \"R\u00e1j\u00e1 Harichand's\nPunishment\" (p. 224), in which Mah\u00e1deo plays a part, the tellers of\nthese tales would never specify by name the god they spoke of. He was\nalways _Khud\u00e1_, \"the great _Khud\u00e1_ who lives up there in the sky.\" In\nthis they differed from the narrator of the _Old Deccan Days_ stories,\nwho almost always gives her gods and goddesses their Hind\u00fa\nnames--probably because, from being a Christian, she had no religious\nscruples to deter her from so doing.\n\nWhen the heroes of these stories are called R\u00e1j\u00e1s, the word R\u00e1j\u00e1 has\nbeen kept: when they are called B\u00e1dsh\u00e1hs, we have called them kings.\nThe Ayahs say, \"A B\u00e1dsh\u00e1h is a much greater man than a R\u00e1j\u00e1.\" When\n_b\u00e1dsh\u00e1h_ (the Persian _p\u00e1dish\u00e1h_) in its corrupted form of _b\u00e1s\u00e1_ is\ntacked on to a proper name, such as _An\u00e1r_ (_An\u00e1rb\u00e1s\u00e1_), _H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1l_\n(_H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1lb\u00e1s\u00e1_), the _b\u00e1s\u00e1_ has been preserved, because, Dunkn\u00ed says,\nin these cases _b\u00e1s\u00e1_ is no longer a title, but part of the proper\nname.\n\nOld M\u00faniy\u00e1 tells her stories with the solemn, authoritative air of a\nprofessor. She sits quite still on the floor, and uses no gestures.\nDunkn\u00ed gets thoroughly excited over her tales, marches up and down the\nroom, acting her stories, as it were. For instance, in describing the\nthickness of Mah\u00e1deo's hair in King Burtal's story, she put her two\nthumbs to her ears, and spread out all her fingers from her head\nsaying, \"His hair stood out like this,\" and in \"Loving Lail\u00ed,\" after\nmoving her hand as if she were pulling the magic knife from her pocket\nand unfolding it, she swung her arm out at full length with great\nenergy, and then she said, \"Lail\u00ed made one 'touch'\" (here she brought\nback the edge of her hand to her own throat), \"and the head fell off.\"\nDunkn\u00ed sometimes used an English word, such as the \"touch\" in the\npresent case.\n\nAll these stories were read back in Hind\u00fast\u00e1n\u00ed by my little girl to\nthe tellers at the time of telling, and nearly all a second time by me\nthis winter before printing. I never saw people more anxious to have\ntheir tales retold exactly than are Dunkn\u00ed and M\u00faniy\u00e1. Not till each\ntale was pronounced by them to be _th\u00edk_ (exact) was it sent to the\npress.\n\nIt is strange in these Indian tales to meet golden-haired,\nfair-complexioned heroes and heroines. Mr. Thornton tells me that in\nthe Panj\u00e1b when one native speaks of another with contempt, he says,\n\"he is a black man,\" _ek k\u00e1l\u00e1 \u00e1dm\u00ed hai_. Sir Neville Chamberlain tells\nme that if you wish to praise a native for his valour and brave\nconduct, you say to him, \"Your countenance is red,\" or \"your cheeks\nare red,\" and that nothing is worse than to tell him his \"face is\nblack.\" And this is what Mr. Boxwell says about the expression \"k\u00e1l\u00e1\n\u00e1dm\u00ed\" and our fairy tales:--\n\n \"The stories are of the Aryan conquerors from beyond the\n Indus; distinguished by their fair skin from the dark\n aborigines of India. In Vedic times Var[n.]a, 'colour,'\n is used for stock or blood, as the Latins used Nomen. It\n is in India 'Yas D\u00e1sam var[n.]am adharam guh\u00e1kar.' 'Who\n sank in darkness the Barbarian colour.' R. V. II. 4.\n\n \"Indra, again, 'Hatv\u00e9 Dasy\u00fan pra \u00c1ryam var[n.]am \u00e1vat.'\n 'Having slain the Barbarians, helped the Aryan colour.'\n R. V. III. 34.\n\n \"Again, in K. V. I. 104. They pray--\n\n \"'Te nas \u00e1vaksa suvit\u00e1ya var[n.]am.' 'May they bring our\n colour to success.'\n\n \"In later times 'var[n.]a' is the regular word for\n caste; and the Brahmins and the rest of the twice-born\n who still represent the Aryan var[n.]a are much fairer\n than the \u00c7\u00fadras and Hill people.\n\n \"In the Ikhw\u00e1n ussafa the black skin is one of the\n results of the Fall to Adam and Hawa.\n\n \"'\u00c1ft\u00e1b ki garm\u00ed se rang mutaghaiyar aur si\u00e1h ho gay\u00e1.'\n 'From the heat of the sun their colour became changed\n and black.'\"\n\nBut I think the fact that the conquering races that invaded India from\nthe north were fair and ruddier than the aborigines, and that their\ndescendants, the high-caste natives, are to this day fairer than the\naborigines, though it explains the phrases, \"he is only a black man,\"\nand \"your cheeks are red,\" does not account for the golden hair and\nfair skin of so many of our princes and princesses. I believe that\nthey all owe their characteristics to the fact that such are the\ncharacteristics of the solar hero, although they cannot all lay claim\nto a solar origin for themselves. For this golden hair and white skin,\nat first the property of the shining sun-hero alone, would naturally\nin the course of time be given to other Indian folk-lore heroes on\nwhose beauty and brightness it was necessary to lay a stress. Prince\nMajn\u00fan, for instance, certainly has nothing solar about him, yet his\nhair is described as red. Dunkn\u00ed, in answer to a half incredulous,\nhalf inquiring exclamation of mine when I heard this, asserted, \"Red!\nyes, it was red: red like gold.\"\n\nThe black-haired Maoris give their sea-nymphs yellow hair (_Old New\nZealand_, p. 19); and Sir George Grey in his _Polynesian Mythology_,\np. 295, writes thus of the Maori fairies: \"Their appearance is that of\nhuman beings, nearly resembling an European's; their hair being very\nfair, and so is their skin. They are very different from the Maoris,\nand do not resemble them at all.\" But as the Maoris do not seem to\nhave any myths of golden-haired solar heroes, these peculiarities of\nhair and complexion cannot be referred to the same cause as those of\nmy little daughter's Indian princes and princesses.\n\n\nI.--PH\u00daLMATI R\u00c1N\u00cd.\n\n1. Ph\u00falmati is a garden rose, not a wild rose. It must be a local name\nfor the flower. I can find it in no dictionary. Dunkn\u00ed says her\nheroine was named after a pink rose.\n\n2. She has hair of pure gold. Compare in this book: Princess Jah\u00faran,\np. 43, the Monkey Prince, p. 50, Sonahr\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed, p. 54, Jah\u00far R\u00e1n\u00ed, p.\n93, Prince D\u00edm\u00e1-ahmad and Princess At\u00e1sa, Notes, p. 253. Also, H\u00edra\nBai, the cobra's daughter in _Old Deccan Days_, p. 35. So many\nprincely heroes and heroines in European fairy tales are noteworthy\nfor their dazzling golden hair that I will only mention one of them,\nPrincess Golden-Hair, one of whose hairs rings if it falls to the\nground--see Naake's _Slavonic Fairy Tales_, p. 100. And devils being\nfallen heroes or angels, the following references may be made to them.\nIn Haltrich's _Siebenbuergische Maerchen_, p. 171, in \"Die beiden\nFleischhauer in der Hoelle,\" the devil's grandmother gives the good\nbrother a hair that had fallen from the devil's head while he slept.\nThe man carries it home and the hair suddenly becomes as big as a\n\"Heubaum\" and is \"of pure gold.\" Also in one of Grimm's stories the\nhero is sent to fetch three golden hairs from the devil's head--see\n_Kinder und Hausmaerchen_, vol. I. p. 175, \"Der Teufel mit den drei\ngoldenen Haaren.\"\n\n3. Her beauty lights up a dark room. In this shining quality she\nresembles many Asiatic and European fairy-tale heroes and heroines.\nSee in this book H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00ed, whose face shone like a diamond, p. 69; and\nthe Princess Lab\u00e1m, who shone like the moon, and her beauty made night\nday, p. 158. In _Old Deccan Days_, p. 156, the prince's dead body on\nthe hedge of spears dazzles those who look at it till they can hardly\nsee. P\u00e1nch Ph\u00fal R\u00e1n\u00ed, p. 140, shines in the dark jungle like a star.\nSo does the princess in Chundun R\u00e1j\u00e1's dark tomb, p. 229. In a\nDin\u00e1jpur story published by Mr. G. H. Damant in the _Indian Antiquary_\nfor February 1875, vol. IV. p. 54, the dream-nymph, Tillottama,\nwhenever she appears, lights up the whole place with her beauty. \"At\nevery breath she drew when she slept, a flame like a flower issued\nfrom her nostril, and when she drew in her breath the flower of flame\nwas again withdrawn.\" Her beauty lit up her house \"as if by\nlightning.\" See Appendix _A_. In Naake's _Slavonic Fairy Tales_, p.\n96, is the Bohemian tale quoted above of Princess Golden-Hair. \"Every\nmorning at break of day she [the princess] combs her golden locks; its\nbrightness is reflected in the sea, and up among the clouds,\" p. 102.\nWhen she let it down \"it was bright as the rising sun,\" and almost\nblinded Irik with its radiance, p. 107. The golden children (Schott's\n_Wallachische Maerchen_, p. 125) shine in the darkened room \"like the\nmorning sun in May.\" Gubernatis in the 2nd vol. of his _Zoological\nMythology_, mentions at p. 31 a golden boy who figures in one of\nAfanassieff's stories; when this child's body is uncovered on his\nrestoration to his father, \"all the room shines with light.\" And at p.\n57 of the same volume he quotes another of Afanassieff's stories, in\nwhich the persecuted princess has three sons \"who light up whatever is\nnear them with their splendour.\" Of Gerd in J\u00f6tunheim, the beautiful\ngiant maiden with the bright shining arms, Thorpe says (_Northern\nMythology_, vol. I. p. 47), when she raised \"her arms to open the\ndoor, both air and water gave such a reflection that the whole world\nwas illumined.\" The boar Trwyth (who was once a king, but because of\nhis sons was turned into a boar) after his fall preserves some of his\nold kingly splendour; for \"his bristles were like silver wire, and\nwhether he went through the wood or through the plain he was to be\ntraced by the glittering of his bristles\" (_Mabinogion_, vol. II. p.\n310). In the same work (vol. III. p. 279), in \"The Dream of Maxen\nWledig,\" is a maiden, of whom it is told: \"Not more easy than to gaze\nupon the sun when brightest was it to look upon her by reason of her\nbeauty.\" And in \"Goldhaar\" (Haltrich's _Siebenbuergische Maerchen_,\np. 61) when the hero's cap fell off he stood there \"in all splendour\nand his golden locks fell round his head, and he shone like the sun.\"\n\nIn a Santhali tale published by the Rev. F. T. Cole in the _Indian\nAntiquary_ for January 1875, p. 10, called \"Toria the Goatherd and the\nDaughter of the Sun,\" a beggar's eyes are as dazzled by the Sun's\ndaughter's beauty \"as if he had stared at the sun.\"\n\n4. Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed has on her head the sun, on her hands moons, and her\nface is covered with stars. Compare in these stories \"The Indr\u00e1san\nR\u00e1j\u00e1,\" p. 1, \"The boy who had a moon on his forehead and a star on his\nchin,\" p. 119, and \"Prince D\u00edm\u00e1-ahmad and Princess At\u00e1sa,\" Notes, p.\n253. In Fr\u00e4ulein Gonzenbach's _Sicilian Fairy Tales_, No. 5 (vol. I.\np. 21), the king's son's children are born, the boy with a golden\napple in his hand, the girl with a star on her forehead. In the Notes\nto this story (vol. II. p. 207) Herr K\u00f6hler mentions a Tyrolean fairy\ntale, \"Zingerle, II. p. 112,\" where the king's son's daughter has a\ngolden apple in her hand, and her brother a golden star on his\nforehead. In Milenowsky's _Bohemian Fairy Tales_, p. 1, is the story\n\"Von den Sternprinzen\" in which the king's son by the queen has a gold\nstar on his forehead, and his son by the old woman has a silver star,\np. 2. These princes' children also are born with gold and silver stars\non their foreheads, p. 30. In a Hungarian tale, \"Die verwandelten\nKinder,\" the old man's youngest daughter promises, and keeps her\npromise, to give the king, if he marries her, twin sons, who will be\nmost beautiful, will have golden hair, and each a golden ring on his\narm; further, one is to have a planet, the other a sun on his\nforehead--Stier's _Ungarische Volksmaerchen_, p. 57. Also in the same\nauthor's _Ungarische Sagen und Maerchen_ in \"Die beiden juengsten\nKoenigskinder,\" the hero wins a bride (p. 77) who has a sun on her\nforehead, a moon on her right, and three stars on her left, breast. In\n\"Eisenlaci\" in the same collection the snake-king's daughter has a\nstar on her forehead (p. 109). Gubernatis (_Zoological Mythology_,\nvol. I. p. 412) says, \"In the seventh story of the third book of\nAfanassieff, the queen bears two sons; one has a moon on his forehead\nand the other a star on the nape of his neck. Her wicked sister\nburies them; a golden and a silver sprout spring up which a sheep eats\nand then has two lambs, one with a moon on its head, the other with a\nstar on its neck. The wicked sister who has married the king orders\nthem to be torn in pieces, and their intestines to be thrown into the\nroad. The good, lawful queen eats them and again gives birth to her\nsons.\" Gubernatis in the 2nd volume of the same work, p. 31, quotes\nanother of Afanassieff's stories, the thirteenth of the third book, in\nwhich a merchant's wife has a son \"whose body is all of gold, effigies\nof stars, moon, and sun covered it.\" This is the gold boy mentioned in\nthe preceding paragraph as lighting up the room when his body was\nuncovered. In \"Das Schwarze Lamm,\" the empress bears a son with a\ngolden star on his forehead (Karadschitsch, _Volksmaerchen der\nSerben_, p. 177).\n\n5. Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed weighs but one flower: compare P\u00e1nch Ph\u00fal R\u00e1n\u00ed in\n_Old Deccan Days_, p. 133.\n\n6. Indr\u00e1san (= Indra + \u00c1sana, Indra's throne or home), says Dunkn\u00ed, is\nthe name of the underground fairy country. Its inhabitants, the\nfairies (par\u00ed) are called the Indr\u00e1san people; they delight in all\nlovely things; everything about them is beautiful; they play\nexquisitely on all kinds of musical instruments; they dance and sing a\ngreat deal; they have wings and can fly. They taught the little Monkey\nPrince (p. 42), and King Burtal's eldest son was taken to them as a\npupil by the fak\u00edr Gorakn\u00e1th, p. 93. In Indr\u00e1san grows a tree of which\nno man can ever see the flowers or fruit, as the fairies gather them\nin the night and take them away. The Irish \"good people\" who live in\nclefts of rocks, caves, and mounds, and the Irish fairies who live in\nthe beautiful land of youth under the sea, have many points in common\nwith the Indian fairies. They, too, dance beautifully, are wonderful\nmusicians, and have everything about them lovely and splendid. The\n\"good people\" also sometimes impart their knowledge to mortals. See\npp. x, xii, and xviii of the Introduction to the _Irische\nElfenmaerchen_ translated into German by the brothers Grimm. Some of\nthe Cornish fairies, the Small People, like the Indr\u00e1san people, live\nunderground (Hunt's _Romances and Drolls of the West of England_, pp.\n116, 118, 125), aid those to whom they take a fancy and are very\nplayful among themselves (_ib._ p. 81); they have the most ravishing\nmusic (_ib._ pp. 86, 98); their singing is clear and delicate as\nsilver bells (_ib._ p. 100); everything about them is joyous and\nbeautiful (_ib._ pp. 86, 99, 100); they are a tiny race (_ib._ p. 81),\nbut can at pleasure take the size of human beings (_ib._ pp. 115, 122,\n123); and their queen has hair \"like gold threads\" (_ib._ p. 102). The\nfair-haired New Zealand fairies are, too, a kindly happy race. See\nGrey's _Polynesian Mythology_, pp. 287 to 295. Nothing is said about\ntheir dancing, but they are described as \"merry, cheerful, and always\nsinging like a cricket\" (_ib._ p. 295), and from one of their\nfishing-nets left on the sea shore, when its fairy owners were\nsurprised by the rising of the sun, the Maoris learnt the stitch for\nnetting a net. Like the Indian fairies they appear to be as big as\nhuman beings.\n\n7. Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed is drowned in a tank and becomes a flower; she is\nkilled and brought to life several times: compare in this collection\nthe story of the \"Pomegranate Children\" and note to that story. In one\nof Ralston's _Russian Folk-Tales_, \"The Fiend,\" p. 15, the heroine is\nkilled through witchcraft: from her grave springs a flower which is\nherself transformed: she afterwards regains her human shape.\n\n8. With Ph\u00falmati's last transformation compare the last that the\nB\u00e9l-Princess goes through (p. 148 of this collection), and that of a\nwoman, who figures in a Din\u00e1jpur story published by Mr. G. H. Damant\nin the _Indian Antiquary_ of April 5th, 1872, vol. I. p. 115. She,\nthough living in the Rakshas country, is not a Rakshas, but does not\nappear to be an ordinary mortal, and when cut to bits by a certain\nmagic knife becomes a tree. \"Her feet became a silver stem, her two\nhands golden branches, her head ornaments were diamond leaves, all her\nbracelets and bangles were pearly fruits, and her head was a peacock\ndancing and playing in the branches.\" As soon as the magic knife is\nthrown to the ground she regains her human form.\n\nEisenlaci in Stier's _Ungarische Sagen und Maerchen_ (pp. 107-109)\ncomes in the form of a horse to the twelve-headed dragon's house. He\nis killed; the first two drops of his blood are thrown into the garden\nand from them springs a tree with golden apples: the tree is cut\ndown, but the first two chips (which are flung into the pond) become a\ngold fish: the gold fish turns into Eisenlaci himself in human form.\n\n9. Winning a wife by seizing her dress while she bathes is an incident\ncommon to fairy tales of many countries.\n\n\nII.--THE POMEGRANATE KING.\n\n1. Such is the story as told by Dunkn\u00ed in 1876; at that time, when it\nwas read over to her, she said it was correct. On my asking her in\n1878, when the story was going through the press, to explain some\npoints in it, such as why the children said they had been brought to\nlife _three_ times, the boy having only died twice, and the girl once,\nshe told me the following variation: After the attempt to get rid of\nthe boy by making him into a curry had failed, the R\u00e1n\u00ed Sunk\u00e1s\u00ed sent\nfor a sepoy and bade him carry the two children to the jungle and\nthere kill them; and as a proof of their death he was to bring her\ntheir livers. Once in the jungle with the children, the sepoy had not\nthe heart to kill them; so he left them in it, and brought the livers\nof two goats to Sunk\u00e1s\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed. She buried the livers in the garden and\nwas content; but some months later as she was walking (literally\n\"eating the air\") in the jungle she saw her step-children playing\nabout; she returned to the palace, sent for the sepoy, and asked him\nwhy he had not killed the children. \"I did kill them,\" said the sepoy,\n\"and brought you their livers.\" \"Those livers were not the children's\nlivers,\" answered the R\u00e1n\u00ed; \"I have just seen the children alive and\nplaying in the jungle.\" \"They must have been other people's children\nthat you saw,\" said the sepoy, \"yours I killed.\" \"Do not tell me\nlies,\" said the R\u00e1n\u00ed. \"Now you must at once go to the jungle, kill the\nchildren, and bring me their eyes.\" The sepoy went to find the\nchildren, but when he found them he could not kill them, so he took\nthem to some people who lived in a hut, and said to these people,\n\"Take great care of the two children. Be very kind to them.\" He then\nkilled two goats and took their eyes to the R\u00e1n\u00ed, who was now\nsatisfied for some time. But one day another of the Pomegranate\nR\u00e1j\u00e1's sepoys passed near the hut, and saw the children playing about.\nSo he went to Sunk\u00e1s\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed and told her the children were alive and\nwell. At this the R\u00e1n\u00ed was very angry, and she thought, \"It is of no\nuse my sending the first sepoy again to kill them. I will send this\nman.\" She said, therefore, to the second sepoy, \"If you will kill\nthese children for me, you shall have a great reward.\" The sepoy\nagreed, went to the little hut, and seized the children. The poor\npeople who took care of the children begged and prayed him to have\npity on them; but the sepoy said, \"No.\" He had the R\u00e1n\u00ed's orders to\nkill them, and they must and should be killed. And so he killed them\nand brought their livers to the R\u00e1n\u00ed as she had bidden him. Sunk\u00e1s\u00ed\nR\u00e1n\u00ed was very happy when she saw the livers, and she buried them close\nto a large tank that was in her garden.\n\nSome three months later her servants came to her and told her a\nbeautiful large b\u00e9l-fruit was floating on the water of the tank.\nSunk\u00e1s\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed went at once with them to the tank, and when she saw the\nfruit she was seized with a great longing to have it. So she sent all\nher servants, one after the other, into the tank to fetch it; but all\nto no purpose, for as soon as any one of them got close to the fruit\nit floated away from him. Then the R\u00e1n\u00ed herself went into the tank.\nShe, however, was not a whit more able to get it: when she thought she\nhad only to put out her hand to take it, the fruit rose up into the\nair, and fell into the water again as soon as she had come up out of\nthe tank. She went to the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 and told him of this lovely\nb\u00e9l-fruit, and then went to her room while he came down to the tank.\nHe said, \"I should like to catch the fruit: I wonder if I can do so.\nWhat a lovely fruit!\" As soon as he put his hand into the water the\nfruit came floating towards him, and floated into it. \"I think this\nfruit is quite ripe,\" said the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1. \"Quite ripe,\" said the\nservants, and they struck it with a stone to break it open. \"Oh, you\nhurt us! you hurt us!\" cried little voices from inside the b\u00e9l-fruit.\n\"Gently, gently; don't hurt us.\" The Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 and all the servants\nwere greatly surprised, and the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 went to Sunk\u00e1s\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed, and\ntold her all about the little voices. She at once guessed her\nstep-children were in the fruit, so she said to the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1, \"You\nhad better take the fruit to the jungle and there break it open with a\nbig stone, so that anything inside it may be crushed to bits.\" \"I will\nnot do that,\" said the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1. Then he went back to his servants and\nmade them cut the fruit's rind very carefully cross-ways and the fruit\nbroke into halves: in one half sat his little son, in the other his\nlittle daughter. As soon as the halves were laid on the ground the\nchildren stepped out, and at once grew to their natural size. Their\nfather was very angry when he saw them. \"Why, I thought you were at\nschool,\" said he. \"The Mah\u00e1r\u00e1n\u00ed told me you were at school. Why are\nyou not there? What funny (Dunkn\u00ed's own word) children you are to get\ninto this b\u00e9l-fruit! What made you like to live in a fruit?\" But to\nall his questionings and scoldings the children said not one word. At\nlast he sent them up to the palace, and there they stayed with him for\nsome three months. But the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1n\u00ed said to him, \"These are not your\nchildren. Yours are at school.\" \"They _are_ my children,\" he answered.\n\nAll this time the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1n\u00ed hated them more and more, and at last she\nwent to them and said, \"Now I really will kill you.\" \"Just as you\nplease,\" answered the children; \"we don't mind being killed. You may\nkill us three times, four times, as often as you like: it does not\nmatter in the least; for God will always bring us to life again.\"\n\nAt this Sunk\u00e1s\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed flew into a rage and she called her servants and\nsaid, \"Kill these children, cut them into mince-meat and throw them to\nthe crows and kites. When the crows and kites have eaten them, they\ncannot come to life any more.\" So the servants killed the children,\nand chopped them up very fine and fed the crows and kites with their\nflesh; and now the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1n\u00ed was very happy.\n\nSome months later, as she was walking in her garden, she saw two\nbeautiful flower-buds on a large b\u00e9l-tree that grew in it. She showed\nthem to the gardener, and asked if he had seen them before. \"Never,\"\nsaid the man. \"On this tree there have never been either flowers or\nfruit till now.\" \"Gather the flowers for me,\" said the R\u00e1n\u00ed, \"I do so\nwish to have them.\" The gardener said to her, \"Wait till the buds are\nfully blown and then I will gather them for you.\" At the end of three\nor four days the R\u00e1n\u00ed Sunk\u00e1s\u00ed asked if the buds had grown into large\nflowers, and the gardener said, \"Yes, to-day I will gather them for\nyou.\" He got a long, long bamboo cane, and tied a piece of wood\ncross-ways on one of its ends so as to make a sort of hook wherewith\nto catch hold of and break off the flowers. He tried and tried to get\nthem, but all in vain. Then he made all the servants try. It was of no\nuse, no one could make the hook touch the flowers. They always bent\nthemselves just out of its reach. Then Sunk\u00e1s\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed tried, but with no\nbetter success. She told the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1, who said, \"I will try to-morrow\nto gather these wonderful flowers.\"\n\nThat night as the R\u00e1n\u00ed lay in her bed she suddenly thought, \"Those\nchildren are in the flowers,\" and she determined to be with her\nhusband when he gathered them, to get them into her own hands some way\nor other.\n\nThe next morning An\u00e1rb\u00e1s\u00e1 Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 and his wife went to the b\u00e9l-tree,\nand as soon as he held out his hand towards the flowers, they dropped\ninto it. \"What lovely flowers! What beautiful flowers! Do give them to\nme,\" said Sunk\u00e1s\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed. \"No,\" said the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1, \"I will keep them\nmyself.\" Then he carried them to his room and laid them on the table\nwhile he shut the door and the venetians. Then he came and sat down\nbefore them: he took them in his hand, and looked at them and laid\nthem again on the table; then he took them and smelt them, and they\nsmelt, oh! so sweet. This he did many times. At last he held them to\nhis ears, for the adventure of the b\u00e9l-fruit had made him wise\n(_hushy\u00e1r_), and he heard little tiny voices, saying, \"Papa\" (Dunkn\u00ed's\nown word), \"we want to stay with you; we should like to be with you.\"\nThe Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 looked very carefully at the flowers, and at last, in one\nof them he saw a little splinter of wood like a thorn sticking: he\npulled this out, and his own little son stood before him. Then he\nlooked at the other flower, and in that, too, was a little splinter of\nwood sticking. When he pulled it out his little girl stood there.\n\nThe Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 was vexed with his children, and asked them why they were\nso naughty, and why they liked to live in fruits and flowers instead\nof staying in the palace or going to school. The children answered,\n\"We go to school sometimes, and then we come back and live in our\nflowers, and then we return to school, and then we come back to our\nflower-homes again.\" \"This is a lie you are telling me,\" said their\nfather. \"You know quite well you have not been at school at all.\" The\nMah\u00e1r\u00e1n\u00ed came in to hear what all this talking meant, and when she saw\nthe children she said to An\u00e1rb\u00e1s\u00e1 Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1, \"These are not your\nchildren, yours are at school.\" \"They are my children,\" he answered,\n\"and they have never been at school at all, and they are very\nnaughty.\" He then sent them away to play, and the R\u00e1n\u00ed returned to her\nroom. But he sat alone in his room, for he was angry and cross. As he\nsat there one of his chapr\u00e1s\u00eds came to him and said, \"Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j, you do\nnot know how ill the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1n\u00ed treats your children, or you would not\nbe angry with them. She has killed them several times, and sent them\naway into the jungle; and after they came out of the b\u00e9l-fruit she\nkilled them and chopped them into small pieces, and fed the kites and\ncrows with their flesh.\" When the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 heard all this, he said to\nthe chapr\u00e1s\u00ed, \"You must have a beautiful little house built for me;\nyou must take care that it is chiefly made of wood; the flooring must\nbe very thin and of wood; and the hollow place under the flooring must\nbe filled with dry wood. Then you must put plenty of flowers inside\nthe house, and plenty outside so as to make it very pretty.\"\n\nAs soon as the house was ready the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 went to his wife and asked\nher if she would go out with him to eat the air. \"I should like to\nshow you a new house I have had built for you,\" he said. So she went\nwith him and thought her new house lovely. While she was inside\nlooking at the pretty flowers in the rooms, the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 slipped out,\nand bolted the door so that she could not escape, and he told his\nservants to set fire to the wood under the flooring. When the flames\nbegan to rise the R\u00e1n\u00ed got very frightened. She rushed to the window\nand called to the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 and his servants, who were standing there\nlooking on, to save her. No one said anything to her. \"Save me,\" she\ncried, \"or I shall be burnt to death.\" \"If you are burnt, what does it\nmatter?\" said the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1. \"You ill-treated my children; you killed\nthem; so, now burn.\"\n\nAs soon as she was burnt to death the Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 had all her bones\ncollected and put into four dishes, and he gave them to one of his\nservants to take to Sunk\u00e1s\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed's mother. When her mother uncovered\ndish after dish and found nothing but bones, she asked the servant,\n\"Of what use are bones?\" \"These are your daughter's bones,\" said he:\n\"therefore An\u00e1rb\u00e1s\u00e1 Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 sent them to you. Sunk\u00e1s\u00ed R\u00e1n\u00ed\nill-treated and killed his children, and so he burnt her.\"\n\nThe rest of the story she pronounced exact (_th\u00edk_).\n\n2. The b\u00e9l-tree is the _\u00c6gle Marmelos_ of botanists.\n\n3. With the different deaths and transformations of the children\ncompare in this book: Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed, pp. 3 and 4: the Kite's Children,\np. 22: the B\u00e9l-Princess, pp. 144, 145, 148: and in _Old Deccan Days_\nSurya Bai, pp. 85, 86. In \"Die goldenen Kinder\" (Schott's\n_Wallachische Maerchen_) the golden children are killed and buried (p.\n122). From their hearts spring two apple-trees having golden leaves\nand apples. The trees are destroyed; but a sheep has eaten an apple\nand then has two golden lambs. The step-mother kills them at once and\nsends the maid to wash the entrails in the stream, intending to cook\nthem for her husband to eat (compare the curry in the \"Pomegranate\nKing,\" p. 8; the broth (_Suhr_) in Grimm's \"von dem Machandelboom,\"\n_Kinder und Hausmaerchen_, vol. I. p. 271; and the stew in the\nDevonshire story, \"The Rose-Tree,\" told in Henderson's _Folk-lore of\nthe Northern Counties of England_, p. 314). A piece of the entrail\nescapes, and as it floats away it swells and swells. On reaching the\nopposite bank it bursts, and out of it step the golden children. In a\nHungarian story the children, one with a planet and one with a sun on\nhis forehead, and each with a ring on his arm, are killed by a wicked\nwoman who wants her daughter to take their mother's place as queen.\nThey turn first into two golden pear-trees. These are destroyed by\nfire, but one glowing coal from the fire is eaten by an old she-goat.\nThe old goat then has two little golden-fleeced kids. They are killed,\nan old crow swallows a piece of the entrails as they are being washed\nin the brook; she flies to the seventy-seventh island in the ocean,\nbuilds a nest and lays two golden eggs. Out of the eggs come the\ngolden-haired children with their planet, sun and golden rings. The\nold crow sends them for seven years to school to a hermit (here is the\nholy man again, see p. 283 of these notes), and then flies home with\nthem to their father. The pillar of salt, into which their mother was\nchanged, answers all the king's questions. It is not said that she\nregained her human form (\"Die verwandelten Kinder,\" Stier's\n_Ungarische Volksmaerchen_, p. 58). In a Siebenburg story, \"Die beiden\ngoldenen Kinder,\" the children are killed by an envious woman who\nbecomes queen in their mother's place. From their remains spring two\ngolden pine-trees which are burnt; a sheep eats two of the sparks and\nhas two golden lambs that are killed; from two pieces of the entrails\nstep forth the golden-haired children (Haltrich's _Siebenbuergische\nMaerchen_, pp. 2, 3). In this tale the children are restored to their\nfather, the king, by the intervention of God himself (p. 4), who in\nthese _Siebenbuergische Maerchen_ plays a part just as often as\n\"Khud\u00e1\" does in the Indian tales, taking for the purpose the form of a\n\"good old man,\" and often wearing a grey mantle that reminds one of\nOdin. In the Netherlandish story of \"The knight with the swan\"\n(Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_, vol. III. p. 302), King Oriant's\nmother persuades the king his wife gave him seven puppies instead of\nseven children (each born with a silver chain round its neck in \"proof\nof their mother's nobility\"). She sends the children to the forest to\nbe destroyed. They are left there alive, and are fostered by an old\nman. When the queen-mother learns this, she sends servants to kill\nthem. These are content with depriving six of the children of their\nsilver chains, on which the children instantly become swans. (The\nseventh child is absent and so is saved.) A goldsmith makes two\nbeakers out of one of the chains, and keeps the others intact. When\nthe chains are hung again round the five swans' necks, and the beaker\nshown to the sixth, they regain their human forms. See also paragraph\n8 of the notes to Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed.\n\n4. With the children in the fruit and flowers compare in these\nstories, Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed, p. 3: Loving Lail\u00ed, p. 81: the B\u00e9l-Princess,\np. 146, and paragraph 5 of the notes to that story, p. 283: and in\n_Old Deccan Days_, \"Surya Bai,\" p. 86: and \"An\u00e1r R\u00e1n\u00ed and her two\nmaids,\" p. 95. With these may be compared the Polish Madey (Naake's\n_Slavonic Fairy Tales_, p. 220). Madey is a robber who commits fearful\ncrimes; he repents, and sticks his \"murderous club\" upright in the\nground, swearing to kneel before it till the boy who has caused his\nrepentance returns as a bishop. Years go by: the boy, now a bishop,\npasses through Madey's forest. The club has become an apple-tree full\nof apples and he discovers Madey through their sweet odour. At Madey's\nrequest the bishop confesses him; and as Madey confesses his crimes,\nthe apples on the tree, one after another, become white doves and fly\nto heaven. They were the souls of those he had murdered.\n\nIn an unpublished story told by Dunkn\u00ed, the incidents of the children\nbeing in the fruit, and the fruit not letting itself be gathered by\nany but the rightful owner of its contents (as is the case also with\nthe B\u00e9l-Princess), again occur. In this story there is a prince called\nAisab, who, as he wished very much to have children, married. At the\nsame time he took an oath that if his child, when he had one, cried,\nhe would kill it, and then if his wife cried he would kill her too.\nHis first wife gave him a child who died; she cried and was killed by\nher husband. The same thing happened to the second wife. He then\nmarried a third wife, called Gul\u00edan\u00e1r. She had a little son,\nD\u00edm\u00e1-ahmad, and two or three years later another son, called Kar\u00e1mat.\nThe first boy died, but Gul\u00edan\u00e1r did not cry--she only grieved for him\nin her heart. Kar\u00e1mat was unhappy from seeing other children playing\nwith their brothers and sisters, and asked his mother \"why he had no\nbrother or sister to play with?\" She said, \"Once you had a little\nbrother and he died.\" Then Kar\u00e1mat began to cry, and his father killed\nhim immediately with his sword because of his oath, though he loved\nKar\u00e1mat dearly. The \"mother was still sadder than before, but she\nnever wept.\" Then God took pity on her and sent down into Prince\nAisab's garden a big b\u00e9l-tree, and on this b\u00e9l-tree was a fruit. Every\none tried to gather this fruit, even Prince Aisab tried, but each time\ntheir hands approached it the fruit rose into the air and returned\nagain when the hands were withdrawn. Then Gul\u00edan\u00e1r stretched out her\nhand \"and the fruit fell into it.\" She took it into the house and\ntried to break it open with a stone, and a voice called out, \"Mother,\nmother, not so hard; you hurt us.\" She was very much frightened,\nthinking a Rakshas or a demon was in the fruit. Prince Aisab was\nequally alarmed, but his waz\u00edr, Mamatsa, broke the fruit open gently\nin obedience to the little voice that called out, \"Don't knock so\nhard, Mamatsa; you hurt us;\" and out of it stepped the two little\nchildren D\u00edm\u00e1-ahmad and Kar\u00e1mat. D\u00edm\u00e1-ahmad was very beautiful. On his\nhead was the sun, on his face the moon, and on his hands stars, and he\nhad long golden hair. He married a princess, At\u00e1sa, who also had the\nsun on her head, the moon on her face, stars on her hands, and \"her\nhair was of pure gold and reached down to the ground.\" The idea that\nnone but the rightful owner can catch the child is found too in Grey's\n_Polynesian Mythology_ at pp. 116, 117, in the story of Whakatau, who\nwas fashioned in the sea from his mother Apakura's apron by the god\nRongota-kawiu. This child lived at the bottom of the sea; but one day\nhe came on shore after his kite, and all who saw him tried in vain to\ncatch him. Then said Whakatau, \"You had better go and bring Apakura\nhere; she is the only person who can catch me and hold me fast.\" His\nmother then comes and catches him.\n\n5. Sunk\u00e1s\u00ed's bones are sent to her mother. In the _Sicilianische\nMaerchen_ collected by Laura Gonzenbach, it is a common practice for\nhusbands to punish their second wives' treachery with death, and then\nto send their remains to their mothers, who feast on them, thinking\nthey are eating tunny-fish, and die of grief on learning what they\nhave really swallowed.\n\n6. With Gul\u00edan\u00e1r's change into a bird compare Laura Gonzenbach's 13th\n_Sicilianische Maerchen_, vol. I. p. 82, where the real bride is\ntransformed into a dove by a black-headed pin being driven into her\nhead, and regains her human form when the pin is pulled out. Schott\nhas a similar incident in his _Wallachische Maerchen_, p. 251. So has\nGubernatis (_Zoological Mythology_, vol. II. p. 242) in a story from\nnear Leghorn, where the woman is changed into a swallow (in all these\nstories it is the husband who pulls out the pin); and he says similar\nstories with a transformation into a dove are told in Piedmont, in\nother parts of Tuscany, in Calabria, and are to be found in the\n_Tutiname_. Ralston's Princess Mariya (_Russian Folk Tales_, p. 183),\nand Thorpe's second story of \"The Princess that came out of the water\"\n(_Yule Tide Stories_, p. 41), may also be compared.\n\n7. The golden bird in the Siebenburg story drops pearls from its beak\nwhenever it sings (\"Der goldne Vogel,\" Haltrich's _Siebenbuergische\nMaerchen_, pp. 31, 35). The princess, its mistress, wears (p. 39) a\ngolden mantle \"adorned with _carbuncles_ and pearls from the golden\nbird.\"\n\n\nIII.--THE CAT AND THE DOG.\n\n1. The Tiger promises not to eat the man who helps him and then tries\nto break his promise. Compare \"The Brahman, the Tiger, and the six\nJudges,\" _Old Deccan Days_, p. 159; and \"Ananzi and the Lion\" in\nDasent's _Ananzi Stories_, p. 490.\n\n2. In a Slavonic story mentioned by Gubernatis (_Zoological\nMythology_, vol. II. p. 111), a bear is about to kill a peasant in\nrevenge. A fox appears, \"shakes its tail and says to the peasant,\n'Man, thou hast ingenuity in thy head and a stick in thy hand.' The\npeasant immediately understands the stratagem,\" and persuades the bear\nto get into a sack he has with him that he may carry the bear three\ntimes round the field instead of doing penance, after which the bear\nis to do what he likes with him. The bear gets into the sack, the man\n\"binds it strongly\" together, and then beats the bear to death with\nhis stick. Gubernatis at p. 132 of the same volume tells a similar\nstory from Russia in which a wolf plays the part of the bear and of\nour tiger.\n\n\nIV.--THE CAT THAT COULD NOT BE KILLED.\n\n1. In an unpublished story told us by Gangiy\u00e1, a hill-man from near\nSimla, a cat saves herself from being eaten by a jackal very much in\nthe same way that this cat saved herself from the leopard. The jackal\n(in Gangiy\u00e1's story) ate anything it came across, whether it were dead\nor alive. One day he met a tiger and said to him, \"I will eat you. I\nwill not let you go.\" \"Very good,\" said the tiger, \"eat me.\" So the\njackal ate him up. He went a little further and met a leopard; he said\nto the leopard, \"I will eat you.\" \"Very good,\" said the leopard. So he\nate the leopard. He went a little further and met a tiny mouse.\n\"Mouse,\" he said, \"I have eaten a tiger and a leopard, and now I will\neat you.\" \"Very good,\" said the mouse. He ate the mouse. He went a\nlittle further and met a cat. \"I will eat you,\" said the jackal. The\ncat answered, \"What will it profit you to eat me, who am so small? A\nlittle further on you will see a dead buffalo: eat that.\" So the\njackal left the cat and went to eat the buffalo. He walked on and on,\nbut could find no buffalo; and the cat, meanwhile ran away. The jackal\nwas very angry, and set off to seek the cat, but could not find her.\nHe was furious.\n\n\nVI.--THE RAT AND THE FROG.\n\nCompare the Bohemian \"Long-desired child,\" Naake's _Slavonic Fairy\nTales_, p. 226. This child is carved out of a tree-root by a woodman,\nwho brings him home to his wife. They delight in having a child at\nlast. The child eats all the food in the house; his father and mother;\na girl with a wheelbarrow full of clover; a peasant, his hay-laden\ncart, and his cart-horses; a man and his pigs; a shepherd, his flock\nand dog; lastly, cabbages belonging to an old woman who cuts him in\ntwo with her mattock just as he tries to eat her. Out of him jump\nunhurt every thing and every one he has swallowed. In a story from the\nsouth of Siberia (Gubernatis' _Zoological Mythology_, vol. I. p. 140)\nthe hero vanquishes a demon, who tells him that in his stomach he will\nfind a silver casket. He cuts the monster open and out of him come\n\"innumerable animals, men, treasures, and other objects. Some of the\nmen say, 'What noble youth has delivered us from the black night?'\"\nIn two of the caskets the hero finds the eyes of an old woman who has\nbefriended him, and money, \"and from the last casket came forth more\nmen, animals, and valuables of every kind.\" In a Russian story quoted\nby Gubernatis (_Zoological Mythology_, vol. I. pp. 406, 407) the wolf\neats the kids all but one. The mother goat persuades him to jump over\na fire. The fire splits his belly open, out tumble all the little\nkids, lively as ever. There is a very similar story with fox, goat,\nand kid for actors in Campbell's _Popular Tales of the West\nHighlands_, vol. III. p. 93; and Grimm has one also, \"Der Wolf und die\nsieben jungen Geislein,\" in his _Kinder und Hausmaerchen_, vol. I. p.\n29. In the notes to this story, vol. III. p. 15, Grimm says, \"In\nPomerania this is told of a child who when his mother had gone out was\nswallowed by the child-spectre, resembling the varlet Ruprecht. But\nthe stones which he swallows with the child make the spectre so heavy\nthat he falls to the earth, and the child unhurt springs out of him.\"\nSee, too, the demons at p. 99 of these stories, who swallow the\nPrincess Champ\u00e1k\u00e1l\u00ed's suitors.\n\n * * * * *\n\nTylor in his _Primitive Culture_, vol. I. p. 341, classes Little Red\nRiding Hood among these Day and Night myths. It is, he says,\n\"mutilated in the English Nursery version, but known more perfectly by\nold wives in Germany, who can tell that the lovely little maid in her\nshining red satin cloak was swallowed with her grandmother by the\nwolf, but they both came out safe and sound when the hunter cut open\nthe sleeping beast.\" He also quotes among these myths (_ib._ p. 338) a\nstory of the Ojibwas in which the hero is swallowed by a great fish\nand cut out again by his sister; and another belonging to the Basutos\nin which all mankind save the hero and his mother were devoured by a\nmonster. The hero \"attacked the creature and was swallowed whole, but\ncutting his way out he set free all the inhabitants of the world.\" At\nthe same page is the story of the Zulu Princess Untombinde who was\ncarried off by a dreadful beast. \"The king gathered his army and\nattacked it, but it swallowed up men, and dogs, and cattle, all but\none warrior; he slew the monster, and there came out cattle, and\nhorses, and men, and last of all the princess herself.\" Mr. Tylor\nquotes, too (_ib._ p. 336), in connexion with this class of myths, the\nstory of the death of the New Zealand sun-hero, Maui, which he tells\nmore fully than does Sir George Grey in his _Polynesian Mythology_;\nand he goes on at pp. 338, 339, 340, to connect these myths with those\nof Perseus and Andromeda; Heracles and Hesione; the story of Jonah and\nhis fish; the Greenland angakok swallowed by bear and walrus and\nthrown up again; and the legend of Hades.\n\nBesides the angakok mentioned by Mr. Tylor, Dr. Rink, in his _Tales\nand Traditions of the Eskimo_, has two other stories of escapes from\nthe stomach of a dead animal when it is cut open. In the first, at p.\n260, the boy is devoured by a gull; his sister kills the bird, takes\nher brother's bones from its pouch and carries them home: on the way\nthe boy comes to life again. The other tale, p. 438, tells how\nNakasungnak jumped out of the hole his friends had made in the dead\n\"ice-covered\" bear's side; but his hair as well as the skin of his\nface had come off, and he shivered from cold and ague. And in\nRalston's _Songs of the Russian People_, p. 177, is a story of a snake\nwho steals \"the luminaries of the night. A hero cuts off his head, and\nout of the slain monster issue the Bright Moon and the Morning Star.\"\n\n\nVII.--FOOLISH SACH\u00daL\u00cd.\n\n1. Foolish Sach\u00fal\u00ed lives in many lands. In his Russian dress he\nfigures in \"The Fool and the Birch-tree,\" Ralston's _Russian Folk\nTales_, p. 52. In the Sicilian \"Giuf\u00e1\" we find him again (Gonzenbach's\n_Sicilianische Maerchen_, vol. I. p. 249). In England he appears in an\nout-of-the-way village in the south (see _Pall Mall Budget_, July 12,\n1878, p. 11, _Wild Life in a Southern Country_, No. XIV.) with, to use\nhis mother's words, \"no more sense than God had given him.\" She\nwishing to have his testimony discredited when he bears witness\nagainst her, as she knows he will, goes upstairs and rains raisins on\nhim from the window. So when asked to specify the time he speaks of,\nhe says, \"When it rained raisins,\" and is of course disbelieved.\n\nNote by Mr. J. F. Campbell: \"This story of a stupid boy has a parallel\nin a Gaelic tale in my collection, where the boy dated an event which\nwas true by a fall of pancakes or something of the kind which was not\ntrue, and was not believed though he told the truth.\" [At p. 385, vol.\nII. of the _Tales of the West Highlands_ a \"half booby\" is inveigled\nby his mother into dating his theft of some planks by a \"shower of\nmilk-porridge.\"]\n\n2. The magic gifts given by the fairies are a common incident in fairy\ntales: so is the adventure with the jar of ghee.\n\n\nVIII.--BARBER H\u00cdM AND THE TIGERS.\n\n1. Forbes in his Hind\u00fast\u00e1n\u00ed Dictionary says _Kans_ or _Kansa_ was the\nname of a wicked tyrant whom Krish[n.]a was born to destroy, and that\nthe word now means a wicked tyrant. But R\u00e1j\u00e1 K\u00e1ns is an historical\ncharacter. All that is known of him is told by the late Professor\nBlochmann in the Bengal Asiatic Society's Journal for 1873, Pt. I. p.\n264.\n\n2. In the note (p. 380) to the XIXth Tale in the _Sagas from the Far\nEast_, is a story in which Barber H\u00edm's part is played by a he-goat,\nand that of his tigers by a lion. See, too, \"How the three clever men\noutwitted the demons\" in _Old Deccan Days_, pp. 273-278. In a Sant\u00e1l\u00ed\ntale, \"Kanran and Guja,\" sent by the Rev. F. T. Cole to the _Indian\nAntiquary_, vol. IV. September 1875, p. 257, two brothers, Kanran and\nGuja, climb into a t\u00e1l tree. Here they are discovered by a tiger whom\nthey have deprived of his tail, and who has brought a number of his\nfriends to help him revenge himself on the brothers. The tailless\ntiger proposes they shall all stand one the top of the other, to reach\nthe men in the tree. His friends agree provided he takes his stand at\nthe bottom, and they climb as proposed till they almost reach the\nbrothers. Then Kanran calls out to Guja, \"Give me your axe. I will\nkill the tailless tiger.\" The tigers in terror all tumble to the\nground, crushing their tailless friend in their fall, and flee to\ntheir homes. In \"The Leopard and the Ram\" (Bleek's _Hottentot Fables\nand Tales_, p. 24) the ram and the leopard play the parts of the\nbarber and his tigers. See, too, \"The Lion and the Bushman,\" p. 59 of\nthe same collection.\n\nNote by Mr. J. F. Campbell: \"Compare the Irish story of two hunchbacks\nin Keightley. A version is in Mitford's Japanese book; and far better\nversions are common in Japan.\"\n\n\nIX.--THE BULBUL AND THE COTTON-TREE.\n\n1. Cotton-tree, in Hind\u00fast\u00e1n\u00ed _Semal_.\n\n2. Koel, Indian cuckoo.\n\n\nX.--THE MONKEY PRINCE.\n\n1. Bandars\u00e1 means like a monkey; Dunkn\u00ed in telling this husk-story\njust as often called the monkey-skin a husk (_chhilka_) as she called\nit a skin (_chamr\u00e1_).\n\n2. Princess Jah\u00faran throws mattresses to her drowning husband. In a\nMan\u00edp\u00far\u00ed tale published by Mr. G. H. Damant in the _Indian Antiquary_,\nvol. IV. September 1875, p. 260, Basanta's wife throws him a pillow\nthat he may save himself when the envious merchant, on board whose\nboat they are, pitches the prince into the river that he may secure\nthe princess for himself.\n\n\nXI.--BRAVE H\u00cdR\u00c1L\u00c1LB\u00c1S\u00c1.\n\n1. With this story all through compare \"The Demon is at last conquered\nby the King's Son,\" p. 173 of this collection.\n\n2. Rakshas means protector, and is, probably, an euphemistic term. The\nchapter on Mystic Animals in Swedish traditions (Thorpe's _Northern\nMythology_, vol. II. p. 83) gives a list of certain creatures that are\nnot to be mentioned by their own but by euphemistic names for fear of\nincurring their wrath. This belief, Thorpe in the same chapter, p. 84,\nsays, extends to certain inanimate things: water used for brewing, for\ninstance, must not be called _vatn_ (water) or the beer will not be so\ngood; and fire occasionally is to be spoken of as _hetta_ (heat). The\ngirl in an Esthonian tale quoted by Gubernatis at p. 151 of the 1st\nvol. of his _Zoological Mythology_ addresses a crow whose help she\nneeds as \"Bird of light.\" Fiske says (_Myths and Mythmakers_, p. 223),\n\"A Dayak will not allude by name to the small-pox, but will call it\n'The chief' or 'Jungle leaves;' the Laplander speaks of the bear as\n'the old man with the fur coat;' in Annam the tiger is called\n'Grandfather,' or 'Lord.' The Finnish hunters called the bear 'the\nApple of the Forest, the beautiful Honey-claw, the Pride of the\nthicket'\" (\"The Mythology of Finnland,\" _Fraser's Magazine_, May\n1857). The Furies, as every one knows, were called the Eumenides, or\nthe gracious ones.\n\nThe Rakshases are a kind of huge demons who delight in devouring men\nand beasts. They can take any shape they please. The female Rakshas\noften assumes that of a beautiful woman. Compare the demon Mara as\ndescribed by Fiske at p. 93 of his book above quoted.\n\nThe Rakshases do not travel in the way mortals do. See a Din\u00e1jpur\nstory told by Mr. G. H. Damant in the _Indian Antiquary_ (February\n1875, vol. IV. p. 54), where the hero, who has married both the\nRakshas-king's daughter and his niece, asks his father-in-law's leave\nto return home with his Rakshas-wives. The King consents (p. 58), but\nsays, \"We Rakshases do not travel in p\u00e1lk\u00eds (palanquins), but in the\nair.\" Accordingly the prince, his two Rakshas wives and his mortal\nwife, all travel towards his father's country through the air \"along\nthe sky.\" One kind of jinn travel in the same way (Lane's _Arabian\nNights_, vol. I., \"Notes to Introduction,\" p. 29). So do the drakes\nand kobolds in Northern Germany. The drake is as big as a cauldron, \"a\nperson may sit in him,\" and travel with him to any spot he pleases.\nBoth drakes and kobolds look like fiery stripes. The kobolds appear\nsometimes as a blue, sometimes as a red, stripe passing through the\nair (Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_, vol. III. pp. 155, 156).\n\n3. Dunkn\u00ed says, \"All Rakshases keep their souls in birds.\" Those that\ndo so resemble in this respect some of the Indian demons, and the\ngiants, trolls, and such like noxious actors in the Norse, Scotch, and\nother popular tales.\n\nTylor (_Primitive Culture_, vol. II. pp. 152, 153) mentions the Tatar\nstory of the giant who could not be killed till the twelve-headed\nsnake in which he kept his soul was destroyed. This tale, he says,\n\"illustrates the idea of soul-embodiment,\" and \"very likely\" indicates\nthe sense of the myths where giants, &c., keep their souls out of\ntheir own bodies. The civilized notion of soul-embodiment, he adds\n(quoting from \"Grose's bantering description of the art of laying\nghosts in the last century,\") is that of conjuring ghosts into\ndifferent objects: \"one of the many good instances of articles of\nsavage belief serving as jests among civilized men.\" Possibly these\ngiants, trolls, rakshases, demons, once belonged to that class of\nspirits who could, in popular belief, enter at pleasure into stocks\nand stones and other objects of idolatrous veneration.\n\nBut all Rakshases do not keep their souls in birds. Some have their\nsouls in bees (see a Din\u00e1jpur tale published by Mr. G. H. Damant in\nthe _Indian Antiquary_ for April 6, 1872, p. 115): and in another\nDin\u00e1jpur story printed by Mr. Damant in the _Indian Antiquary_ for\nJune 7, 1872, p. 120, a whole tribe of Rakshases dwelling in Ceylon\nkept theirs in one and the same lemon.\n\n4. In the first quoted of these stories collected by Mr. Damant, that\nwhere the Rakshases keep their life in bees, the hero is a prince who\nstarts in search of the wonderful tree mentioned in paragraph 8 of the\nnote to Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed (p. 244). In his wanderings he finds himself in\nthe Rakshas country. There he meets with the woman who when cut up\nturns into the tree he seeks. When he first sees her she lies dead on\na bed with a golden wand on one side of her, and a silver wand on the\nother. He accidentally touches her with the golden wand and she\nwakes. She tells him the Rakshases, every morning when they go out in\nsearch of food, make her dead by touching her with the silver wand,\nand wake her with the golden wand when they return at night. Mr.\nDamant has another story in the _Indian Antiquary_ (July 5, 1872, vol.\nI. p. 219), from Din\u00e1jpur, in which there is a prince Dalim who dies\nand is laid in a tomb above ground, not buried. Daily the Apsarases,\nthe dancing-girls in the court of Indra, wake him from death by\ntouching his face with a golden wand, and make him dead again by\ntouching him with a silver wand. These wands they always leave lying\nbeside him. His wife comes one day to mourn over him and accidentally\ndiscovers the secret of bringing him to life. He is, finally, restored\nto her by the Apsarases.\n\n5. According to Gubernatis, \"three and seven are sacred numbers in\nAryan faith\" (_Zoological Mythology_, vol. I. p. 6).\n\n6. H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1lb\u00e1s\u00e1 addresses the Rakshas as \"uncle.\" The two brothers\nKanran and Guja (in a Sant\u00e1l\u00ed fairy tale bearing their name printed by\nthe Rev. F. T. Cole in the _Indian Antiquary_, September 1875, vol.\nIV. p. 257), address a tiger by the same propitiatory title. The tiger\nin return addresses them as nephews, and gives them the fire they\nwant.\n\n\"Uncle\" and \"aunt\" are used in a propitiatory sense over a great part\nof the world. Hunt at p. 6 of his introduction to the _Romances and\nDrolls of the West of England_ says, \"Uncle is a term of respect,\nwhich was very commonly applied to aged men by their juniors in\nCornwall. Aunt ... was used in the same manner when addressing aged\nwomen.\" \"Mon oncle\" and \"ma tante\" are sometimes used in the same way\nin France. Fiske in his _Myths and Mythmakers_, pp. 166, 167, tells\nhow the Zulu solar hero Uthlakanyana outwits a cannibal: in this story\nthe hero addresses the cannibal as \"uncle,\" and the cannibal in return\ncalls him \"child of my sister.\" Fiske, quoting from Dr. Callaway, at\np. 166, says, \"It is perfectly clear that the cannibals of the Zulu\nlegends are not common men; they are magnified into giants and\nmagicians; they are remarkably swift and enduring; fierce and terrible\nwarriors.\" In the Hottentot story of the \"Lion who took a woman's\nshape,\" the lion and the woman address each other as \"my aunt,\" and\n\"my uncle\" (Bleek's _Hottentot Fables and Tales_, pp. 51, 52). In\nSiberia the Yakuts worship the bear under the name of their \"beloved\nuncle\" (Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, vol. II. p. 231); and when the\nRussian peasant calls on the dreaded Lyeshy to appear he cries, \"Uncle\nLyeshy\" (Ralston's _Songs of the Russian people_, p. 159).\n\n\"Grannie\" is the word used by Dunkn\u00ed herself.\n\n7. The Rakshas queen is tricked to her death in the same way as the\nwicked step-mother in the \"Pomegranate King,\" p. 12 of this\ncollection.\n\n\nXII.--THE MAN WHO WENT TO SEEK HIS FATE.\n\n1. Compare a Servian story, \"Das Schicksal\" (Karadschitsch,\n_Volksmaerchen der Serben_, p. 106), in which a man sets out to seek\nhis fate, and on the road is commissioned by a rich householder to ask\nthe fate why, though he gives abundance of food to his servants, he\ncan never satisfy their hunger, and why his aged, miserable father and\nmother do not die: by another man, to ask why his cattle diminish\ninstead of thriving: and, thirdly, by a river whose waters bear him\nsafely across it, to ask why no living thing lives in it. His fate\nanswers all these questions, and instructs him how to thrive himself.\nIn Fr\u00e4ulein Gonzenbach's _Sicilian Fairy Tales_, \"Die Geschichte von\nCaterina und ihrem Schicksal,\" vol. I. p. 130, Caterina is persecuted\nby her fate, who wears the form of a lovely woman. At last she begs\nher mistress's fate, to whom she daily carries a propitiatory\noffering, to intercede for her with her own fate. She is told in\nanswer that her own fate is wrapped in seven veils and so cannot hear\nher prayer. Finally her mistress's fate leads her to her own. In the\nsame collection, in \"Feledico und Epomata\" (vol. I. p. 350),\nFeledico's fate plays a personal part.\n\nThis Indian story looks like a relic of stock and stone worship (see\nTylor's _Primitive Culture_, vol. II. chapters XIV. and XV.). Compare\nthe man's beating his fate-stone with the treatment the Ostyak gives\nhis puppet. If it is good to him he clothes and feeds it with broth;\n\"if it brings him no sport he will try the effect of a good thrashing\non it, after which he will clothe and feed it again\" (_ib._ p. 170).\nOther examples are given at the same page. These spirits and gods, for\nwhose dwelling-place stocks and stones and other objects had been\nsupplied, were not supposed always to inhabit these abodes; but they\ndid so at pleasure. Compare Elijah's address to the priests of Baal,\n\"Cry aloud: for he is a god; either he is talking, or he is pursuing,\nor he is in a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth\" (1 Kings xviii.\n27), with Caterina's seven-veiled fate, and the prostrate fate-stone\nin our story whose spirit-owner was evidently absent on some\nexpedition. These fates may be compared with the patron or guardian\nspirits of whom Mr. Tylor speaks at pp. 199-203 of the same volume. He\nsays (p. 202), \"The Egyptian astrologer warned Antonius to keep far\nfrom the young Octavius, 'for thy demon,' said he, 'is in fear of\nhis.'\" If one man's demon or genius were at enmity with that of\nanother man, it would probably be friendly to that of a third man, and\nwould therefore be acquainted with its secrets and with its motives of\nbehaviour to the man it guarded. Hence the advice given by her\nmistress to Caterina to inquire of her own fate from her mistress's\nfate, and the questions to be put to their fates when found given to\nthe men in the Indian and Servian stories. These questions remind one\nof those entrusted to the youths in European tales as they journey to\nthe dragon or devil to whom they are sent for destruction. Like the\nfates in the Indian and Servian stories, these dragons and devils live\nat the end of a long and difficult journey. Caterina has to climb a\nmountain to visit her mistress's fate.\n\n2. Gubernatis (_Zoological Mythology_, vol. I. p. 22), speaking of the\nthree _Ribhavas_, says, \"During the twelve days (the twelve hours of\nthe night or the twelve months in the year) in which they are the\nguests of Agohyas,\" &c. So possibly the twelve years in this and other\nstories in this collection may be the twelve hours of the night. In an\nunpublished story told by Dunkn\u00ed, \"Prince H\u00fasains\u00e1's journey,\" the\nprince journeys for twelve years. When he returns home he finds his\nparents as he had left them--fast asleep in bed. To them the twelve\nyears had only been as one night.\n\n\nXIII.--THE UPRIGHT KING.\n\n1. The Boar is an avat\u00e1r of Vish[n.]u.\n\n2. A [d.]om (the d is lingual) is a Hind\u00fa of a very low caste.\n\n3. Possibly this king is the same as the king Harichand in the last\nstory but one in the collection, p. 224, and he may also be the\nHari\u00e7chandra of the following letter from Mr. C. H. Tawney:--\n\n\"I have been looking up the story of 'Hari\u00e7chandra.' It is to be found\nin Muir, vol. I. He gives a summary of it from the _Marka[n.][d.]eya\nPur\u00e1[n.]a_. It is also found in the 'Chanda Kau\u00e7ikam,' and in Mutu\nCoomara Swamy's 'Martyr of Truth.' The following is Muir's summary\nsummarized. Hari\u00e7chandra was a king who lived in the Tret\u00e1 age, and\nwas renowned for his virtue, and for the universal prosperity, moral\nand physical, which prevailed during his reign. One day he heard a\nsound of female lamentation which proceeded from the Sciences who were\nbecoming mastered by the austere Sage, Vi\u00e7vamitra, in a way they had\nnever been before. He rushed to their assistance as a Kshatriya bound\nto succour the oppressed. By a haughty speech he provoked Vi\u00e7vamitra,\nand in consequence of his wrath the Sciences instantly perished. (In\nthe 'Chanda Kau\u00e7ikam,' as far as I remember, we are told that the\nanger of Vi\u00e7vamitra interfered with the success of his austerity.) The\nking says he had only done his duty as a king, which involves the\nbestowal of gifts on Br\u00e1hmans and the succour of the weak. Vi\u00e7vamitra\nthereupon demands from the king as a gift the whole earth, everything\nbut himself, his son, and his wife. The king gives it him. Then\nVi\u00e7vamitra demands his sacrificial fee; the king goes to Benares,\nfollowed by the relentless Sage, the ruler of \u00c7iva, and is compelled\nto sell his wife. She is bought by a rich old Br\u00e1hman. The son cries\nand the Br\u00e1hman buys him too. But Hari\u00e7chandra has not enough, even\nnow, to satisfy Vi\u00e7vamitra, so he sells himself to a Ch\u00e1[n.][d.]\u00e1la,\nwho is really Dharma, the god of righteousness. The Ch\u00e1[n.][d.]\u00e1la\n(man of the lowest caste), carries off the king, bound, beaten, and\nconfused. The Ch\u00e1[n.][d.]\u00e1la sends him to steal clothes in a cemetery.\nThere he lives twelve months. His wife comes to the cemetery to\nperform the obsequies of her son, who had died from the bite of a\nserpent. The two determine to burn themselves with the corpse of their\nson. When Hari\u00e7chandra, after placing his son on the funeral pyre, is\nmeditating on the Supreme Spirit, the lord Hari N\u00e1r\u00e1ya[n.]a\nKrish[n.]a, all the gods arrive headed by Dharma (righteousness) and\naccompanied by Vi\u00e7vamitra. Dharma entreats the king to desist from his\nrash enterprise, and Indra announces to him that he, his wife, and his\nson have gained heaven by their good works. Ambrosia and flowers are\nrained by the god from the sky, and the king's son is restored to the\nbloom of youth. The king, adorned with celestial clothing and\ngarments, and the queen, embrace their son. Hari\u00e7chandra, however,\ndeclares that he cannot go to heaven till he has received his master\nthe Ch\u00e1[n.][d.]\u00e1la's permission, and paid him a ransom. Dharma, the\ngod of righteousness, then says that he had miraculously assumed the\nform of a Ch\u00e1[n.][d.]\u00e1la. The king requests that his subjects may\naccompany him to heaven, at least for one day. This request is granted\nby Indra; and after Vi\u00e7vamitra has inaugurated the king's son,\nRohita\u00e7va, as his successor, Hari\u00e7chandra, his friends and followers,\nall ascend to heaven.\"\n\n\nXIV.--LOVING LAIL\u00cd.\n\n1. Majn\u00fan is a celebrated lover, whose love for Lail\u00ed or Lail\u00e1 is the\nsubject of many Eastern poems. In this story he does not play a\nbrilliant part.\n\n2. Lail\u00ed's knife is like the sun-hero's weapon (the sun's ray), which\nlengthens at its owner's pleasure (Gubernatis, _Zoological Mythology_,\nvol. II. p. 147).\n\n3. She cuts her little finger. See \"the B\u00e9l Princess,\" p. 141, and\nparagraph 2 of the note to \"Shekh Far\u00edd.\" \"The little finger, though\nthe smallest, is the most privileged of the five. It is the one that\nknows everything.\" A Piedmontese mother says, \"My little finger tells\nme everything\" (Gubernatis, _Zoological Mythology_, vol. I. p. 166).\nWe have a somewhat similar saying in England. In a Russian story\nquoted by the same author in the same work (vol. II. p. 151), an old\nwoman while baking a cake, cuts off her little finger and throws it\ninto the fire. From the little finger in the fire is born a strong\ndwarf who afterwards does many wonderful things. In the tale of the\nfive fingers (\"Die Maehr von den fuenf Fingern,\" Haltrich's\n_Siebenbuergische Maerchen_, p. 325), where each finger decides what\nit will do, the little one says, \"I will help with wise counsel.\" In\nconsequence of this assistance, to this day, \"when any one has a wise\nidea (Einfall), he says 'that his little finger told him that'\" (p.\n327). In Finnish mythology we again find the little finger. \"The Para,\nalso originated in the Swedish Bjaeren or Bare, a magical three-legged\nbeing, manufactured in various ways, and which, says Castr\u00e9n, attained\nlife and motion when its possessor, cutting the little finger of his\nleft hand, let three drops of blood fall on it, at the same time\npronouncing the proper spell.\" (\"The Mythology of Finnland,\" _Fraser's\nMagazine_ for May 1857, p. 532.)\n\nIn Rink's _Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo_, p. 441, there is an\naccount of Kanak's visit to the man of the moon, where he meets a\nwoman who, he is warned, will take out his entrails if she can only\nmake him laugh. He follows the moon-man's advice, which is to rub his\nleg with the nail of his little finger when he can no longer keep from\nsmiling, and so saves himself from the old hag. Rishya ['S]ri\u00f1ga (to\nreturn to the land of our fairy tales) threw a drop of water from the\nnail of his little finger on a Rakshas who, in the form of a tiger,\nwas rushing to devour him. The demon instantly quitted the tiger's\nbody, and asked the Rishi what he should do. He followed the holy\nman's instructions and obtained m\u00f4ksha (salvation)--see _Indian\nAntiquary_ for May 1873, p. 142, \"The Legend of Rishya ['S]ri\u00f1ga,\"\ntold by V. N. Narasimmiyengar of Bangalor.\n\n\nXV.--HOW KING BURTAL BECAME A FAK\u00cdR.\n\n1. The Fak\u00edr strikes the dead antelope with his wand (_ch\u00e1buk_), as in\n\"Shekh Far\u00edd,\" p. 98. In both cases Dunkn\u00ed says the wand used was a\nlong, slender piece of bamboo. I do not know whether the bamboo is a\nlightning-plant. Possibly it is, being a grass (some grasses are\nlightning-plants, see Fiske's _Myths and Mythmakers_, pp. 56, 61), and\nalso because its long slender stems are lance-shaped. If it does\nbelong to this class, naturally a blow from a bamboo (or lightning)\nwand would give life, for, says Fiske (_ib._ p. 60), \"the association\nof the thunder-storm with the approach of summer has produced many\nmyths in which the lightning is symbolized as the life-renewing wand\nof the victorious sun-god.\"\n\n2. The king tries to hide the ball in his hair. The wonderful power\nand strength of hair appears in tales from all lands: Signor de\nGubernatis suggests that, in the case of solar heroes, their hair is\nthe sun's rays (_Zoological Mythology_, vol. I. p. 117, vol. II. p.\n154); and it seems to me possible that, just as the _colour_ of the\nsolar hero's hair has been appropriated by Indian fairy-tale princes\nwho are not solar, the _qualities_ of his hair may have been\nattributed to that of folk-lore heroes who are not solar, and may also\nhave been the origin of some of the strange superstitions prevalent\nabout human hair. This theory, if correct, would account for most of\nthe strange things that I have hitherto met about hair. It must be\nremembered that the sun's rays are also his weapons; they turn to\nthunderbolts when the sun is hidden in the rain-clouds (Gubernatis,\n_ib._ vol. I. pp. 9, 17), and also to lightning (see _ib._ vol. II. p.\n10, where the sun under the form of a bull is spoken of as the fire\nwhich sends forth lightning).\n\nFirst there is Samson, whose name, according to Gesenius, means\n\"solar,\" \"like the sun.\" Of the hero Firud, it is told \"that a single\nhair of his head has more strength in it than many warriors\"\n(Gubernatis, _Zoological Mythology_, vol. I. p. 117). Conan was the\nweakest man of the F\u00e9inn, because they used to keep him cropped. \"He\nhad but the strength of a man; but if the hair should get leave to\ngrow, there was the strength of a man in him for every hair that was\nin his head; but he was so cross that if the hair should grow he would\nkill them all\" (Campbell's _Popular Tales of the West Highlands_, vol.\nIII. p. 396). At p. 91 of Schmidt's _Griechische Maerchen, Sagen und\nVolkslieder_, is the story of a king, \"Der Capit\u00e4n Dreizehn,\" who is\n\"the strongest of his time,\" and who has three long hairs, so long\nthat they could be twisted twice round the hand on his breast. When\nthese are cut off he becomes the weakest of men. When these grow again\nhe regains his strength. The sun's rays have most power when they are\nlongest, _i.e._ when the sun is in apogee.\n\nPossibly from this old forgotten myth about the solar hero's hair came\nsome superstition to which was due the Merovingian decree that only\nprinces of the blood-royal should wear their hair long; cutting their\nlong hair made them incapable of becoming kings. Their slaves were\nshaved. The barbarians ruled that only their free men should wear long\nhair, and that the slaves should be shaved. Professor Monier Williams,\nin the _Contemporary Review_ for January 1879, p. 265, says that\nGovind, the 10th Guru and founder of the Sikh nationality, ordered the\nSikhs to wear their hair long to distinguish themselves from other\nnations.\n\nIn the Slavonic story, \"Leben, Abenteuer und Schwaenke des kleinen\nKerza,\" is a dwarf magician with a long white beard. With a hair from\nthis beard Kerza binds the magician's wicked wife, who has taken the\nform of a wooden pillar the better to carry out her evil ends. From\nthat moment it was impossible for her to take again her own shape or\nto use her former magic powers (Vogl's _Volksmaerchen_, p. 227). One\nof the tasks set by Yspaddaden Penkawr to Kilhwch before he will give\nhim his daughter Olwen to wife, is to get him \"a leash made from the\nbeard of Dissull Varvawc, for that is the only one that can hold the\ntwo cubs. And the leash will be of no avail unless it be plucked from\nhis beard while he is alive, and twitched out with wooden tweezers ...\nand the leash will be of no use should he be dead because it will be\nbrittle,\"--that is, when the sun is set (dead) his rays have no power\n(_Mabinogion_, vol. II. p. 288). The same idea lies at the bottom of\nthe English superstition that \"if a person's hair burn brightly when\nthrown into the fire, it is a sign of longevity; the brighter the\nflame, the longer the life. On the other hand, if it smoulder away,\nand refuse to burn, it is a sign of approaching death\" (Henderson's\n_Folk-lore of the Northern Counties of England_, p. 84).\n\nThe Malays have a story of a woman, called Utahigi, in whose head grew\na single white hair endowed with magic power. When her husband pulled\nit out a great storm arose and Utahigi went up to heaven. She was a\nbird (or cloud) maiden, and this hair must have been the lightning\ndrawn from the cloud. The Servian Atalanta, when nearly overtaken by\nher lover, takes a hair from the top of her head and throws it behind\nher. It becomes a mighty wood (clouds are the forests and mountains of\nthe sky, Gubernatis, _Zoological Mythology_, vol. I. p. 11),\nKaradschitsch, _Volksmaerchen der Serben_, p. 25, in the story \"von\ndem Maedchen das behender als das Pferd ist.\" In Schmidt's\n_Griechische Maerchen, Sagen und Volkslieder_, p. 79, the king's\ndaughter as she flies with her lover from the Lamnissa throws some of\nher own hairs behind her, and they become a great lake (thunderbolts\nand lightning bring rain). At p. 98 of the same work is the story \"Der\nRiese vom Berge.\" When this giant wishes to enter his great high\nmountain, he takes a hair from his head and touches the mountain with\nit. The mountain at once splits in two (p. 101). The king's daughter\nin her encounter with the Efreet, \"plucked a hair from her head and\nmuttered with her lips, whereupon the hair became converted into a\npiercing sword with which she struck the lion [the Efreet], and he was\ncleft in twain by her blow; but his head became changed into a\nscorpion\" (Lane's _Arabian Nights_, vol. I. p. 156). A Baba Yaga, in\nRalston's _Russian Folk Tales_, p. 147, plucks one of her hairs, ties\nthree knots in it, and blows, and thus petrifies her victims. She is a\npersonification of the spirit of the storm, _ib._ p. 164. In _Old\nDeccan Days_, at p. 62, the old Rakshas says to Ramchundra, \"You must\nnot touch my hair;\" \"the least fragment of my hair thrown in the\ndirection of the jungle would instantly set it in a blaze.\" Ramchundra\nsteals two or three of the hairs, and when escaping from the Rakshas,\nflings them to the winds and fires the jungle. Chandra (p. 266 of the\nsame book) avenges the death of her husband by tearing her hair, which\nburns and instantly sets fire to the land; all the people in it but\nherself and a few who had been kind to her and are therefore saved,\nwere burnt in this great fire.\n\nIn these tales a single hair from the head of the Princess Lab\u00e1m (the\nlunar ray can pierce the cloud as well as a solar ray) cuts a thick\ntree-trunk in two, p. 163.\n\nHair has another property; it can tell things to its owners. See the\nthree hairs the Queen gives Coachman Toms, saying, \"They will always\ntell you the truth when you question them.\" (Stier's _Ungarische\nVolksmaerchen_, p. 176), and which, later in the story (p. 186)\nadjudge the king worthy of death. (See Grimm's story _Kinder und\nHausmaerchen_, vol. II. p. 174, \"The clear sun brings day.\") Also \"Das\nwunderbare Haar\" (Karadschitsch _Volksmaerchen der Serben_, p. 180),\nwhich is blood-red, and in which when split open were found written a\nmultitude of noteworthy events from the beginning of the world. (The\nsun's rays have existed since the early ages of the world.) The girl\nfrom whose head the hair is taken threads a needle with the sun's rays\nand embroiders a net made of the hair of heroes.\n\nSee, too, the Eskimo account of the removal of Disco Island in Rink's\n_Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo_, p. 464, where one old man vainly\ntries to keep back the island by means of a seal-skin thong which\nsnaps, while two other old men haul it away triumphantly by the hair\nfrom the head of a little child, chanting their spells all the time.\nTheir success was, perhaps, due to the spells, not to the hair. In the\nnotes to Der Capit\u00e4n Dreizehn in Schmidt's _Griechische Maerchen,\nSagen und Volkslieder_, there are some instances of the strength given\nby hair to those on whom it grows.\n\n2. The l\u00edch\u00ed is Nephelium Litchi.\n\n3. King Burtal's eldest son's name _Saz\u00e1d\u00e1_ is perhaps the boy's title\nShahz\u00e1d\u00e1 (born of a king), prince. Dunkn\u00ed says it is his name.\n\n\nXVI.--SOME OF THE DOINGS OF SHEKH FAR\u00cdD.\n\n1. Khel\u00e1par\u00ed means \"playful fairy:\" Gul\u00e1bs\u00e1, \"like a rose.\"\n\n2. In another version told to me this year by Dunkn\u00ed, when Gursan R\u00e1j\u00e1\nwakes and learns how long his wife has stood by him, he is horrified,\nand refuses the water, saying he does not want it. He tells her that\nas a reward for her patience and goodness, she shall know of herself\neverything that happens in other countries--floods, fires, and other\ntroubles; that she shall be able to bring help; and should any one die\nfrom having his throat cut she shall be able to restore him to life,\nby smearing the wound with some blood taken from an incision in her\nlittle finger. Khel\u00e1par\u00ed's acquaintance with Shekh Far\u00edd begins in\nthis version as follows:--She was standing at the door of her house\nlooking down the road, when she saw coming towards her Shekh Far\u00edd,\nthe cartman, and the bullock-cart laden with what once was sugar, but\nnow, thanks to the fak\u00edr, is ashes. Through her gift Khel\u00e1par\u00ed knows\nall that has happened, though the miracle was not performed in her\nsight; and Shekh Far\u00edd being a fak\u00edr, though his all-knowing talent\ndoes not equal hers, knows that she knows. The cartman is in despair\nwhen he discovers the ashes, and implores Shekh Far\u00edd to help him. The\nfak\u00edr sends him to Khel\u00e1par\u00ed, saying he must appeal to her as her\npower of doing good excels his (the fak\u00edr's); that though he could\nturn sugar to ashes, he could not turn the ashes to sugar. Khel\u00e1par\u00ed\nat the cartman's prayer performs this miracle. Their next encounter is\nby a tank in the jungle by which the holy man is resting. She is\nhurrying along to put out the fire at her father's palace. The Shekh\ncannot understand how it is possible for any woman to know of herself\nwhat is happening twenty miles off, when he, a fak\u00edr, can only know\nwhat passes at a short distance, so he follows the R\u00e1n\u00ed to test her\ntruthfulness, and arrives in time to see her helping to put out the\nfire. The rest of the story is the same as the version printed in this\ncollection.\n\n3. This Shekh Far\u00edd was a famous S\u00faf\u00ed saint. He was a contemporary of\nN\u00e1nak, and many of his sayings are embodied in the Granth. In Central\nIndia, there is a holy hill of his called Girur. The Gazetteer of the\nCentral Provinces edited by C. Grant, 2nd edition, N\u00e1gpur, 1870, says\nthat articles of merchandise belonging to two travelling traders who\nmocked the saint passed before him, on which he turned the whole\nstock-in-trade into stones as a punishment. They implored his pardon,\nand he created a fresh stock for them from dry leaves, on which they\nwere so struck by his power that they attached themselves permanently\nto his service, and two graves on the hill are said to be theirs. In\nthe _Pioneer_ for 5th August 1878, Pekin has a poem on a similar\nlegend about the saint. Standing on his holy hill, one day Shekh Far\u00edd\nsaw a packman pass and he begged for alms. The packman mocked him.\nThen the saint asked what his sacks contained. \"Stones,\" was the\nanswer. The Shekh said, \"Sooth--they are but worthless stones.\"\nWhereupon all the sacks burst, and the contents, at one time different\nkinds of spices, fell stones to the ground. The owner implored the\nsaint's mercy. Shekh Far\u00edd told him to fill his sacks with leaves from\nthe trees, which was done, and then the leaves became gold mohurs. The\npackman turned saint too and left his bones on Girur. A similar\nmiracle is told of the Irish Saint, Brigit. \"Once upon a time Brigit\nbeheld a man with salt on his back. 'What is that on thy back?' saith\nBrigit; 'Stones,' saith the man. 'They shall be stones then,' saith\nBrigit, and of the salt stones were made. The same man again cometh to\n(or past) Brigit. 'What is that on thy back?' saith Brigit. 'Salt,'\nsaith the man. 'It shall be salt then,' saith Brigit. Salt was made\nagain thereof through Brigit's word.\" (_Three Middle Irish Homilies_,\np. 81.)\n\n4. Fak\u00edrchand means the moon of fak\u00edrs. Mohand\u00e1s, the servant of the\nMohan (Krish[n.]a). Champ\u00e1k\u00e1l\u00ed is a necklace made in imitation of the\nclosed buds of the champa or champak flowers.\n\n5. The demons, in Hind\u00fast\u00e1n\u00ed _dew_ (pronounced deo), god, are\nsomething like the Rakshases. They have wings, and have exceedingly\nlong lips, one of which sticks up in the air, while the other hangs\ndown. One of King Arthur's warriors, \"Gwevyl, the son of Gwestad, on\nthe day that he was sad, he would let one of his lips drop below his\nwaist while he turned up the other like a cap upon his head\"\n(_Mabinogion_, vol. II. p. 266, \"Kilhwch and Olwen\").\n\n\nXVII.--THE MOUSE.\n\n1. Unluckily, when Kar\u00edm was with us, I neglected to write down the\nname of the grain that kills the mouse, and all the wonderful things\nhe told us of the properties of this grain. His explanations were a\nkind of note given after he had finished the story.\n\n2. The only parallel I can find to this story is one in Bleek's\n_Hottentot Fables and Tales_, p. 90, called \"The unreasonable child to\nwhom the dog gave its deserts; or a receipt for putting any one to\nsleep,\" in which the child indulges in the uncalled for generosity and\nunreasonable rage of the mouse.\n\n\nXVIII.--A WONDERFUL STORY.\n\n1. Aj\u00edt means unsubdued, invincible.\n\n2. The wrestler's mode of announcing his arrival at Aj\u00edt's house is,\nprobably, the solitary result of many efforts to induce Kar\u00edm himself\nto knock at the nursery door before he marched into the nursery. I\nnever heard of natives knocking at each other's house-doors.\n\n3. With these wrestlers compare Grimm's \"Der junge Riese,\" _Kinder und\nHausmaerchen_, vol. II. p. 23, and \"Eisenhans\" in Haltrich's\n_Siebenbuergische Maerchen_, p. 77.\n\n4. Aj\u00edt carries her house. Note by Mr. J. F. Campbell: \"Compare an\nIrish story about Fionn and a giant who was told that the hero turned\nthe house when the wind blew open the door.\" [See, too, Campbell's\n_Tales of the Western Highlands_, vol. III. p. 184]\n\n5. When Kar\u00edm was here I forgot to ask him how big were Aj\u00edt's cakes,\ncan, and mice. Mr. Campbell of Islay, who read this story in\nmanuscript, wrote in the margin where the mice were mentioned: \"The\nfleas in the island of Java are so big that they come out from under\nthe bed and steal potatoes. They do many such things. Compare [with\nAj\u00edt's can] a Gaelic story about a man who found the Fenians in an\nisland, and was offered a drink in a can so large that he could not\nmove it.\"\n\n6. Mr. G. H. Damant, in the _Indian Antiquary_ for September 1873,\nvol. II. p. 271, has a Din\u00e1jpur story called \"Two g\u00e1nja-eaters\" which\nis very like our Wonderful Story. In it a g\u00e1nja-eater who can eat six\nmaunds of g\u00e1nja[7] hears of another g\u00e1nja-eater who can eat nine\nmaunds; so he takes his six maunds of g\u00e1nja, and sets off for his\nrival's country with the intention of fighting him. On the road he is\nthirsty and drinks a whole pond dry, but this fails to quench his\nthirst. Arrived at the nine-maund g\u00e1nja-eater's house, he learns from\nthe wife that her husband has gone to cut sugar-cane, and decides to\ngo and meet him. He finds him in the jungle, and wishes to fight there\nand then; but his rival does not agree to this, saying he has eaten\nnothing for seven days. The other answers he has eaten nothing for\nnine; whereupon the nine-maund g\u00e1nja-eater suggests they shall wait\ntill they get back to his country, as in the jungle they will have no\nspectators. The six-maund g\u00e1nja-eater consents. So the nine-maund\ng\u00e1nja-eater takes up all the sugar-cane he has cut during the last\nseven days and sets off for his country with his rival. On the way\nthey meet a fish-wife, and call her to stop and see them fight; she\nanswers she must carry her fish without delay to market, being already\nlate, and proposes they should stand on her arm and fight, and that\nthen she could see them as they go along. While they are fighting on\nher arm, down sweeps a kite which carries off \"the g\u00e1nja-eaters; fish\nand all.\" They are thrown by a storm in front of a R\u00e1j\u00e1's daughter,\nwho has them swept away thinking they are bits of straw.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n [7] An intoxicating preparation of the hemp-plant (_Cannabis\n sativa_ or _C. indica_).\n\n\nXIX.--THE FAK\u00cdR N\u00c1NAKS\u00c1 SAVES THE MERCHANT'S LIFE.\n\n1. N\u00e1naks\u00e1, _i.e._ N\u00e1nak Sh\u00e1h, is doubtless the first guru of the\nSikhs (about A.D. 1460-1530).\n\n2. With the transmigration of the souls of the merchant's father,\ngrandmother, and sister into the goat, the old woman and his little\ndaughter, compare a Din\u00e1jpur story published by Mr. G. H. Damant in the\n_Indian Antiquary_ for June 7, 1872, vol. I. p. 172, in which a king\nthreatens to kill a Br\u00e1hman if he does not explain what he means by\nsaying to the king every day, \"As thy liberality, so thy virtue.\" By\nhis new-born daughter's advice the Br\u00e1hman tells the king this child\nwould explain it to him. Accordingly the king comes to the Br\u00e1hman's\nhouse and is received smilingly \"by the two-and-a-half-days-old\ndaughter. She sends the king for the desired information to a certain\nred ox, who in his turn\" sends him to a clump of Shahara (_Trophis\naspera_) trees. The trees tell him he has been made king in this state\nof existence, because in a former state of existence he was liberal and\nfull of charity; that in this former state the child just born as the\nBr\u00e1hman's daughter was his wife: that the red ox was then his son, and\nthat this son's wife, as a punishment for her hardness and\nuncharitableness, had \"become the genius of this grove of trees.\"\n\n3. Jabr\u00e1'\u00edl is the Archangel Gabriel.\n\n\nXX.--THE BOY WHO HAD A MOON ON HIS FOREHEAD AND A STAR ON HIS CHIN.\n\n1. For these marks see paragraph 4 of the notes to Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed. I\nthink the silver chains with which King Oriant's children are born\n(see the Netherlandish story, the Knight of the Swan, quoted in\nparagraph 3 of the notes to the Pomegranate King) are identical with\nthe suns, moons, and stars that the hero in this and in many other\ntales possesses. They are his princely insignia and proofs of his\nroyalty. When the boy in this tale twists his right ear his insignia\nare hidden, and so long as they remain concealed no one can guess he\nis a king's son, unless he chooses to reveal himself, as he does,\npartially, through his sweet singing to the youngest princess. With\nthis partial revelation compare the Sicilian \"Stupid Peppe\" revealing\nhimself in part by means of the ring he gave to his youngest princess.\nThis ring has the property of flashing brightly whenever he is near.\n(See the story \"Von dem muthigen K\u00f6nigssohn, der viele Abenteuer\nerlebte\" quoted in paragraph 6 of the notes to this story, p. 280.)\nThe shape of the insignia may have been destroyed, as in the case of\nthe sixth swan's chain, in the Netherlandish story, but its substance\nremains, and as soon as it reappears the hero clothes himself with his\nown royal form. Chundun R\u00e1j\u00e1's necklace (_Old Deccan Days_, p. 230)\nand Sodewa Bai's necklace (_ib._ p. 236), in which lay their life,\nbelong, perhaps, to these insignia. Their princely owners' existence\ndepends on their keeping these proofs of their royalty in their own\npossession, and is suspended whenever the proofs pass into the hands\nof others.\n\n2. The gardener's daughter promises to bear her husband a son with the\nmoon on his forehead and a star on his chin. Compare \"Die verstossene\nK\u00f6nigin und ihre beiden ausgesetzten Kinder,\" Gonzenbach's\n_Sicilianische Maerchen_, vol. I. p. 19, where the girl (p. 21)\npromises to give the king, if he marries her, a son with a golden\napple in his hand, and a daughter with a silver star on her forehead.\nAlso compare with our story \"Truth's Triumph\" in _Old Deccan Days_, p.\n50. In Indian stories, as in European tales, the gardener and his\nfamily often play an important part, the hero being frequently the son\nof the gardener's daughter, or else protected by the gardener and his\nwife.\n\n3. With the kettle-drum compare the golden bell given by the R\u00e1j\u00e1 to\nGuzra Bai in \"Truth's Triumph\" (_Old Deccan Days_, p. 53); and the\nflute given by the nymph Tillottama to her husband in the \"Finding of\nthe Dream,\" a Din\u00e1jpur story published by Mr. G. H. Damant in the\n_Indian Antiquary_, February 1875, vol. IV. p. 54. See also paragraph\n7, p. 287, of notes to \"How the R\u00e1j\u00e1's son won the Princess Lab\u00e1m.\"\n\n4. _Ka[t.]ar_ (the _t_ is lingual) means cruel, relentless. With this\nfairy-horse compare the Russian hero-horses in Dietrich's collection\nof Russian tales, who remain shut up behind twelve iron doors, and\noften loaded with chains as well, till the advent of heroes great\nenough to ride them. They generally speak with human voices, are their\nmasters' devoted servants, fight for him, often slaughtering more of\nhis enemies than he does himself, and when turned loose in the free\nfields, as Ka[t.]ar was in his jungle, till they are needed, always\nstaying in them and coming at once to their master when he calls. See\nin the collection by Dietrich (_Russische Volksmaerchen_) No. 1, \"Von\nLjubim Zarewitch,\" &c., p. 3; No. 2, \"Von der selbstspielenden Harfe,\"\np. 17; No. 4, \"Von Ritter Iwan, dem Bauersohne,\" p. 43; No. 10, \"Von\nBulat dem braven Burschen,\" p. 133; Jeruslan Lasarewitsch in the story\nthat bears his name (No. 17, p. 208) catches and tames a wonderful\nhorse near which even lions and eagles do not dare to go, p. 214. And\nthe Hungarian fairy horses (Zauberpferde) who, like the Servian\nhero-horses, become ugly and lame at pleasure, and speak with human\nvoice, must also be compared to Ka[t.]ar. One in particular plays a\nleading part in the story of \"Weissnittle\" (Stier's _Ungarische\nVolksmaerchen_, p. 61). He saves the king's son twice from death and\nthen flies with him to another land. He speaks with human voice,\nadvises him in all his doings, and marries him to a king's daughter;\nWeissnittle obeying his horse as implicitly as our hero does Ka[t.]ar.\nThe heroes' horses in Haltrich's _Siebenbuergische Maerchen_ also\nspeak with human voice and give their masters good counsel. See p. 35\nof \"Der goldne Vogel;\" p. 49 of \"Der Zauberross;\" p. 101 of \"Der Knabe\nund der Schlange.\" These last two horses have more than four legs:\nlike Odin's Sleipnir, they each have eight. See, too, the dragon's\nhorse and this horse's brother in \"Der goldne Apfelbaum und die neun\nPfauinnen\" (Karadschitsch, _Volksmaerchen der Serben_, pp. 33-40). The\n\"steed\" in the \"Rider of Grianaig,\" pp. 14 and 15 of vol. III. of\nCampbell's _Tales of the Western Highlands_, and the \"Shaggy dun\nfilly\" in \"The young king of Easaidh Ruadh,\" at p. 4 of vol. I. of the\nsame work, may also be compared; and, lastly, in a list of hero-horses\nC\u00fachulainn's Gray of Macha deserves a place. On the morning of the day\nwhich was to see his last fight, C\u00fachulainn ordered his charioteer,\nLoeg, to harness the Gray to his chariot. \"'I swear to God what my\npeople swears,' said Loeg, 'though the men of Conchobar's fifth\n(Ulster) were around the Gray of Macha, they could not bring him to\nthe chariot.... If thou wilt, come thou, and speak with the Gray\nhimself.' C\u00fachulainn went to him. And thrice did the horse turn his\nleft side to his master.... Then C\u00fachulainn reproached his horse,\nsaying that he was not wont to deal thus with his master. Thereat the\nGray of Macha came and let his big round tears of blood fall on\nC\u00fachulainn's feet.\" The hero then leaps into his chariot, and goes to\nbattle. At last the Gray is sore wounded, and he and C\u00fachulainn bid\neach other farewell. The Gray leaves his master; but when C\u00fachulainn,\nwounded to death, has tied himself to a stone pillar to die standing,\n\"then came the Gray of Macha to C\u00fachulainn to protect him so long as\nhis soul abode in him, and the 'hero's light' out of his forehead\nremained. Then the Gray of Macha wrought the three red routs all\naround him. And fifty fell by his teeth and thirty by each of his\nhooves. This is what he slew of the host. And hence is (the saying)\n'Not keener were the victorious courses of the Gray of Macha after\nC\u00fachulainn's slaughter.'\" Then Lugaid and his men cut off the hero's\nhead and right hand and set off, driving the Gray before them. They\nmet Conall the Victorious, who knew what had happened when he saw his\nfriend's horse. \"And he and the Gray of Macha sought C\u00fachulainn's\nbody. They saw C\u00fachulainn at the pillar-stone. Then went the Gray of\nMacha and laid his head on C\u00fachulainn's breast. And Conall said, 'A\nheavy care to the Gray of Macha is that corpse.'\" Conall himself, in\nthe fight he has with Lugaid, to avenge his friend's slaughter, is\nhelped by his own horse, the Dewy-Red. \"When Conall found that he\nprevailed not, he saw his steed, the Dewy-Red, by Lugaid. And the\nsteed came to Lugaid and tore a piece out of his side.\" (\"C\u00fachulainn's\nDeath, abridged from the Book of Leinster,\" _Revue celtique_, Juin\n1877, pp. 175, 176, 180, 182, 183, 185.)\n\n5. The prince makes his escape at five years old. Jeruslan\nJeruslanowitsch at the same age sets out in search of his father,\nJeruslan Lasarewitsch, equipped as a knight, at p. 250 of the 17th\nRussian Maerchen in the collection by Dietrich quoted above. He meets\nand fights bravely with his father, proving himself worthy of him (p.\n251). Sohrab, Rustam's famous son, gives proof of a lion's courage at\nfive, and at ten years old vanquishes all his companions (Gubernatis,\n_Zoological Mythology_, vol. I. p. 115).\n\n6. The princess chooses the ugly common-looking man. In _Old Deccan\nDays_, p. 119, so does the Princess Buccoulee. In the episode of Nala\nand Damayant\u00ed we have the assemblage of suitors, and the public choice\nof a husband by a princess (_svayamvara_). Damayant\u00ed recognizes the\nmortal Nala among the gods, (each of whom has made himself resemble\nNala) from the fact that the flowers of which Nala's garlands were\ncomposed had faded while the garlands of the gods were blooming\nfreshly. In a story from Man\u00edp\u00far\u00ed told by Mr. G. H. Damant in the\n_Indian Antiquary_, September 1875, vol. IV. p. 260, Prince Basanta,\neffectually disguised by misery, and travel-stained, arrives with the\nmerchant at a certain place where the king's daughter that day is to\nchoose her husband. The merchant takes his seat among the princely\nsuitors; Basanta a little way off. There is a general storm of\nscoffings when the princess hangs her garland of flowers round\nBasanta's neck. In one of Laura Gonzenbach's Sicilian stories, \"Von\neinem muthigen K\u00f6nigssohn, der viele Abenteuer erlebte,\" vol. II. p.\n21, we have three kings' sons (brothers) and three princesses\n(sisters.) The two elder brothers marry the two elder sisters. At a\ntournament held on purpose that she may choose her husband, the\nyoungest sister, to the general disgust, chooses the youngest prince\n(disguised as the dirty, ill-dressed servant of the court tailor), and\nwho is not even present as a suitor. Her suitors, princes, have passed\nbefore her for three days. After the marriage the prince keeps up the\ndisguise. His brothers by way of amusing themselves at his expense\ntake \"Stupid Peppe,\" as they call him, to the wood to shoot birds; he\nshoots a great number, while they run here and there and cannot find\none. They agree to let him brand them with black spots on their\nshoulders, on condition he gives them his birds. In the notes to this\nstory, vol. II. p. 240. Herr K\u00f6hler gives Spanish, Russian, South\nSiberian, and others parallels. And in Stier's _Ungarische\nVolksmaerchen_, p. 61, in the story of \"Weissnittle,\" we have not only\nthe hero-horse mentioned in paragraph 4 of these notes, but also the\nassemblage of suitors for the princess to choose her husband: her\nchoice of a seemingly stupid gardener's boy, who has partially\nrevealed himself to her; the prince retaining his disguise, after his\nmarriage, towards every one, even his wife: two brothers-in-law, who\nare kings' sons and the wife's elder sisters' husbands; their hunting\non three different days, each time meeting a handsome prince in whom\nthey do not recognize their despised brother-in-law, Weissnittle, who\nsells them his game the first day for their wedding-rings, the second\nfor leave to brand them with these rings on their foreheads, the third\nfor permission to brand them with a gallows on their backs: lastly, we\nhave Weissnittle, as a splendid young prince, publicly shaming his\nbrothers-in-law by exposing their branding marks. In India this\nbranding with red-hot pice was the punishment for stealing. Compare in\nTaylor's _Confessions of a Thug_, p. 411, Am\u00edr Ali's horror at being\nso branded by the R\u00e1j\u00e1 of Jhalone. It was, he says years later, a\npunishment worse than death, as the world would think him a thief, and\nhe would carry to his grave \"a mark only set on the vile and the\noutcasts from society.\"\n\n7. M\u00faniy\u00e1 tells me that, in a variation of this story, the dog, cow,\nand horse each swallow the child three times, but for shorter periods,\nas he is only five years old when he escapes on Ka[t.]ar. Then when\nthe princess chooses her husband she rides three times round the\nassemblage of R\u00e1j\u00e1's, who all sit on a great plain, and each time she\nchooses the pretended _old_ man; for in this version the boy loses his\nyouth as well as his good looks. Instead of taking service with the\ngrain merchant, the boy is told by his horse to go boldly to the\nking's palace and ask for service there. The shaming of the\nbrothers-in-law happens thus. The boy invites these princes, the king,\nall the king's servants, and all the people in the king's country, to\na grand entertainment in the king's court-house. When they are all\nassembled he has the six princes stripped and every one mocks at the\npice-marks on their backs. These are the only variations in the other\nversion.\n\nSir George Grey, in his _Polynesian Mythology_, p. 73, tells how the\nhero Tawhaki when he climbed into heaven in search of his lost wife\n\"disguised himself, and changed his handsome and noble appearance, and\nassumed the likeness of a very ugly old man.\" If fact, he looks such a\nthoroughly common old man that in the heavens he is taken for a slave\ninstead of a great chief, and treated as such.\n\n\nXXI.--THE B\u00c9L-PRINCESS.\n\n1. M\u00faniy\u00e1 says that telling the prince he would marry a B\u00e9l-Princess\nwas equivalent to saying he would not marry at all, for these\nbrothers' wives knew she lived in the fairy-country, and that it would\nbe very difficult, if not impossible, for the prince to find her, and\ntake her from it.\n\n2. With the fak\u00edr's sleep compare that of the dragon who sleeps for a\nyear at a time in the Transylvanian story \"Das Rosenmaerchen\"\n(_Siebenbuergische Maerchen_, pp. 124, 126).\n\n3. In a Greek story, \"Das Schloss des Helios\" (Schmidt's _Griechische\nMaerchen, Sagen und Volkslieder_, p. 106), the heroine is warned by a\nmonk that as she approaches the magic castle voices like her brothers'\nvoices will call her; but if, consequently, she looks behind she will\nbecome stone. Her two elder brothers go to seek her, and, as they meet\nno monk to warn them, they become stone. The third brother meets the\nmonk, obeys his warning, and thus, like his sister, escapes the evil\nfate. To save him from Helios, the sister turns him into a thimble\ntill she has Helios's promise to do him no harm. (Compare the Tiger\nand Tigress, p. 155 of this collection.) Helios gives him some water\nin a flask with which he sprinkles the stone brothers, whereupon they\nand all the other stone princes come to life. In these Indian tales\nthe healing blood from the little finger plays the part of the waters\nof life and death, found in so many Russian and other European\nstories.\n\nWhen reading of the fate of all these princes, it is impossible not\nto think of Lot's wife.\n\nThe danger of looking back, when engaged on any dealings with\nsupernatural powers, is insisted on in the tales and practices of the\nRussians, Eskimos, Zulus, and the Khonds of Orissa. In Russia the\nwatcher for the golden fern-flower must seize it the instant it\nblossoms and run home, taking care not to look behind him: whether\nthrough fear of giving the demons, who also watch for it, power over\nhim, or whether through a dread of the flower losing its magic powers\nif this precaution is neglected, Mr. Ralston does not say (_Songs of\nthe Russian People_, p. 99). When \"the Revived who came to the\nunder-world people\" (Dr. Rink tells us in his _Tales and Traditions of\nthe Eskimo_, p. 299) took the old couple to visit the ingnersuit\n(supernatural beings \"who have their abodes beneath the surface of the\nearth, in the cliffs along the sea-shore, where the ordinarily\ninvisible entrances to them are found\" _ib._ p. 46), he warned \"them\nnot to look back when they approached the rock which enclosed the\nabode of the ingnersuit, lest the entrance should remain shut for\nthem.... When they had reached the cliff, and were rowing up to it, it\nforthwith opened; and inside was seen a beautiful country, with many\nhouses, and a beach covered with pebbles and large heaps of fish and\nmatak (edible skin). Perceiving this the old people for joy forgot the\nwarning and turned round, and instantly all disappeared: the prow of\nthe boat knocked right against the steep rock and was smashed in, so\nthat they all were thrown down by the shock. The son [the revived]\nsaid, 'Now we must remain apart for ever.'\" Mr. Tylor, in the 2nd\nvolume of his _Primitive Culture_, at p. 147 mentions a Zulu remedy\nfor preventing a dead man from tormenting his widow in her dreams; the\nsorcerer goes with her to lay the ghost, and when this is done\n\"charges her not to look back till she gets home:\" and he says the\nKhonds of Orissa, when offering human sacrifices to the earth-goddess\nbury their portions of the offering in holes in the ground behind\ntheir backs without looking round (_ib._ p. 377).\n\n4. In most of the stories of this kind the command is to open the\nfruit or casket only near water, for if the beautiful maiden inside\ncannot get water immediately she dies. Such is the case in the \"Drei\nPomeranzen\" (Stier's _Ungarische Maerchen und Sagen_, p. 83), in \"Die\nSchoene mit dem sieben Schleier\" (_Sicilianische Maerchen_, vol. I. p.\n73), and in \"Die drei Citronen\" (Schmidt's _Griechische Maerchen,\nSagen und Volkslieder_, p. 71). \"Die Ungeborene Niegesehene\" (Schott's\n_Wallachische Maerchen_, p. 248) must be compared with these, though\nthe beautiful maiden does not come out of the golden fairy-apple. She\nappears suddenly and the prince must give her water to drink and the\napple to eat, before he can take her and keep her. In all these\nstories the hero has a long journey, and encounters many dangers, in\nseeking his bride. In the Sicilian story he is helped by hermits; in\nthe Greek story, by a monk--monks in Greek and hermits in Sicilian and\nServian stories playing the part of the fak\u00edrs in these Indian tales.\nIn all these stories, too, the maiden is killed or transformed by a\nwicked woman who takes her place. In the Wallachian and Sicilian fairy\ntales the rightful bride becomes a dove only. But in the Hungarian\ntale she is drowned in a well and becomes a gold fish; the wicked\ngipsy has no rest till she has eaten the fish's liver: from one of its\nscales springs a tree; she has the tree cut down and burnt. The\nwood-cutter who hews down the tree makes a cover for his wife's\nmilk-pot from a piece of the wood, and they find their house kept in\nbeautiful order from this moment. So to discover the secret, they peep\nthrough the keyhole one day and see a lovely fairy come out of the\nmilk-jar. Then they enter their house suddenly and the girl tells her\nstory: the wood-cutter's wife burns the wooden lid to force her to\nkeep her own form, and goes to the king's son to tell him where he\nwill find his Pomegranate-bride again. In the Greek story a Lamnissa\neats the citron-girl, but a tiny bone falls unnoticed into the water\nand becomes a gold-fish. The prince not only takes the Lamnissa home\nwith him, but he takes the gold-fish too, and keeps it in his room,\n\"for he loved it dearly.\" The Lamnissa never rests till he gives her\nthe fish to eat. Its bones are thrown into a garden and from them\nsprings a rose bush on which blooms a rose which the king's old\nwasherwoman wishes to break off to sell it at the castle. From out of\nthe bush springs the beautiful citron-maiden, and tells the old woman\nher story. She also gives her the rose for the king's son, and in the\nbasket with the rose she lays a ring he had given her, but charges the\nold woman to say nothing about her to him. The next day he comes to\nthe old woman's cottage and finds his real bride.\n\n5. The youngest prince alone can gather the lotus-flower and\nb\u00e9l-fruit. Compare the Pomegranate-king, pp. 10 and 11, and paragraphs\n1 and 4, pp. 245, 252, of the notes to that story. In his _Northern\nMythology_, vol. I., in the footnotes at p. 290, Thorpe mentions a\nmaiden's grave from which spring \"three lilies which no one save her\nlover may gather.\" I think he must quote from a Danish ballad.\n\n6. The princess after drowning is first in a lotus-flower; then in a\nb\u00e9l-fruit again; and, lastly, her body is changed to a garden and\npalace. Signor de Gubernatis at p. 152 of the 1st volume of his\n_Zoological Mythology_ mentions an Esthonian story where a girl (she\nwho addressed the crow as \"bird of light\"--see paragraph 2, p. 259 of\nthe notes to \"Brave H\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1lb\u00e1s\u00e1\") while fleeing with her lover is\nthrown into the water by a magic ball sent after them by the old\nwitch, and there becomes \"a pond-rose (lotus-flower).\" Her lover eats\nhogs'-flesh and thus learns the language of birds, and then sends\nswallows to a magician in Finnland to ask what he must do to free his\nbride. The answer is brought by an eagle; and the prince following the\nmagician's instructions helps the girl to recover her human form. And\njust as Surya Bai is born again in her mango (_Old Deccan Days_, p.\n87) and the B\u00e9l-Princess in her b\u00e9l-fruit, so is the girl in the\nHottentot tale of \"The Lion who took a woman's shape\" born from her\nheart in the calabash full of milk in which her mother has put it. The\nlion had eaten the girl; but her mother burns the lion and persuades\nthe fire in which she burns him to give her her daughter's heart\n(Bleek's _Hottentot Fables and Tales_, pp. 55 and 56). With the change\ninto the garden and palace compare the Russian story of a maiden whose\nservant-girl blinds her and takes her place as the king's wife. After\nsome time the false queen learns her mistress is still living; so she\nhas her murdered and cut to pieces. \"Where the maiden is buried a\ngarden arises, and a boy shows himself. The boy goes to the palace and\nruns after the queen, making such a din that she is obliged, in order\nto silence him, to give him the girl's heart which she had kept\nhidden. The boy then runs off contented, the king follows him, and\nfinds himself before the resuscitated maiden\" (Gubernatis, _Zoological\nMythology_, vol. I. pp. 218, 219). See paragraphs 7 and 8 of the notes\nto \"Ph\u00falmati R\u00e1n\u00ed,\" p. 244, and 1, 3 and 4, pp. 245, 250, 252, of\nthose to \"The Pomegranate-king.\"\n\n7. The commonplace fate of the wonderful palace is deplorable.\n\n\nXXII.--HOW THE R\u00c1J\u00c1'S SON WON THE PRINCESS LAB\u00c1M.\n\n1. The \"four sides\" in this story (p. 153), the \"four directions\" (p.\n156) which ought to have been translated four sides and the four sides\nin \"The Bed,\" p. 202, are the four points of the compass. They appear\nin a Din\u00e1jpur story told by Mr. G. H. Damant in the _Indian\nAntiquary_, 5th April 1872, p. 115. In the first Russian fairy tale\npublished by Dietrich, the hero's parents give their elder sons\npermission \"to go on the four sides\" when they start on their journeys\n(_Russische Volksmaerchen_, p. 1). In another fairy tale in the same\ncollection (No. 11, p. 144) the Prince Malandrach, when he has lost\nhis way flying in the air and is over the sea, raises himself by a\nlast effort and looks on all the \"four sides\" in search of a\nresting-place for his foot, p. 147. Of course, too, like orthodox\nRussians, the Russian heroes generally bow to all the \"four sides,\"\nbefore attempting their journeys and adventures.\n\n2. H\u00edr\u00e1man is the name of a kind of parroquet. Irik in the Bohemian\ntale \"Princess Golden-Hair\" (Naake's _Slavonic Fairy Tales_, p. 99)\nfirst hears of the princess's existence from the chattering of birds.\n\n3. \"Aunty\" was the word used in English by old M\u00faniy\u00e1.\n\n4. With the stone bowl compare the pot in Grimm's \"Der suesse Brei,\"\n_Kinder und Hausmaerchen_, vol. II. p. 104.\n\n5. With the tigers' coats compare the robes of honour wherewith the\nknights in the Mabinogion clothe themselves when they go to combat.\n\"And he (Gwalchmai) went forth to meet the knight (Owain), having over\nhimself and his horse a satin robe of honour sent him by the daughter\nof the Earl of Rhangyw; and in this dress he was not known by any of\nthe host\" (\"The Lady of the Fountain,\" _Mabinogion_, vol. I. p. 67).\nPeredur wears \"a bright scarlet robe of honour over his armour\" given\nhim by the king's daughter (_ib._ p. 363 of \"Peredur the son of\nEvrawc\"). And in \"The Dream of Rhonabwy\" a knight and his horse wear a\nrobe of honour (_ib._ vol. II. p. 413).\n\n6. With the tigers' fight with the demons compare the combat of the\ngrateful lion with the giant, in which the lion bears the brunt of the\nbattle. On the giant's saying, \"Truly, I should find no difficulty in\nfighting with thee were it not for the animal that is with thee,\"\nOwain shuts the lion up in the castle. \"The lion in the castle roared\nvery loud, for he heard that it went hard with Owain,\" so he climbed\nto the top of the castle, sprang down and \"joined Owain. And the lion\ngave the giant a stroke with his paw, which tore him from his shoulder\nto his hip, and his heart was laid bare. And the giant fell down dead\"\n(\"The Lady of the Fountain,\" _Mabinogion_, vol. I. pp. 79, 80).\n\n7. Gubernatis in vol. I. p. 160, of his _Zoological Mythology_, says,\n\"The drum or kettle-drum thunder is a familiar image in Hindu poetry,\nand the gandharvas, the musician warriors of the Hindu Olympus, have\nno other instrument than the thunder.\" \"The magic flute is a variation\nof the same celestial instrument,\" _ib._ p. 161.\n\n8. For the hair, see note to \"How King Burtal became a Fak\u00edr,\"\nparagraph 2, p. 268.\n\n\nXXIII.--THE PRINCESS WHO LOVED HER FATHER LIKE SALT.\n\n1. With the task of pulling out the needles, the purchase of the\nmaid-servant, the sleep of the princess, the usurping of her place by\nthe maid who makes the prince believe the princess is her\nservant-girl, compare \"Der b\u00f6se Schulmeister und die wandernde\nK\u00f6nigstochter,\" in Laura Gonzenbach's _Sicilianische Maerchen_, vol.\nI. p. 59. Here, too, the princess is driven forth from her home; she\nfinds a prince lying dead with a tablet by him on which is written,\n\"If a maiden will rub me seven years, seven months and seven days long\nwith grass from Mount Calvary, I shall return to life, and she shall\nbecome my wife\" (p. 61).\n\n2. Sun-jewel box. The word thus translated is Rav-ratan-ke-pit\u00e1r\u00e1.\n_Rav\u00ed_, sun; _ratan_, jewel; _pit\u00e1r\u00e1_, a kind of box.\n\n3. In one of Grimm's stories, \"Die G\u00e4nsehirtin am Brunnen,\" _Kinder\nund Hausmaerchen_, vol. II. p. 419, a king asks his three daughters\nhow much they love him (p. 425). The eldest loves him as much as the\n\"sweetest sugar,\" the second as much as her \"finest dress,\" and the\nthird as much as salt. So her father in a rage has a sack of salt\nbound on her back, and makes two of his servants take her away to the\nforest. See also Auerbach's _Barf\u00fcssele_, Stuttgart, 1873, ss. 236,\n237.\n\n\nXXIV.--THE DEMON IS AT LAST CONQUERED BY THE KING'S SON.\n\n1. The leading idea of this story is the same as that in \"Brave\nH\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1lb\u00e1s\u00e1.\"\n\n2. With this demon as a goat, compare the Rakshas in the Pig's Head\nSoothsayer in _Sagas from the Far East_, p. 63, and the Rakshas in a\nBeng\u00e1li story printed by Mr. G. H. Damant in the _Indian Antiquary_,\n7th June, 1872, p. 120. This last story opens with seven labourers,\nbrothers, six of whom go down to the water to drink and never return.\nThe seventh goes to see what has happened to them, and finds, instead\nof his brothers, a goat which is really a Rakshas. This goat then\nturns into a beautiful woman who marries the king, first making him\ngive into her hands the eyes of his queen, who is sent blind into the\nforest, where she bears a little son. The Rakshas wife learns this,\nand when the boy later takes service with the king she sends him three\ntimes to her people in Ceylon, with orders to them to kill him. He has\nto bring her foam from the sea, a wonderful rice which is sown,\nripens, and can be boiled in one day, and a singular cow. With the\nhelp of a Sanny\u00e1s\u00ed (a Br\u00e1hman of the fourth order, a religious\nmendicant), he does these errands safely. The Rakshases in Ceylon\nreceive him as their sister's son, show him his own mother's eyes and\nthe clay with which they can be set again in any human sockets, a\nlemon which contains the life of the tribe, and a bird in which is\nthat of the Rakshas-queen. The boy cuts up the lemon, and thereby\nkills them all, carries her eyes to his mother, and kills the\nRakshas-queen by killing the bird. In this story, as in \"Brave\nH\u00edr\u00e1l\u00e1lb\u00e1s\u00e1,\" the Rakshas-queen takes her own fearful form on seeing\nher danger.\n\n3. The _Bargat_, fig-tree, is the _Ficus Bengalensis_ of Linn\u00e6us.\n\n4. M\u00faniy\u00e1 sends her hero for a _Garpank's_ feather; _Garpank_ I can\nfind in no dictionary, but have ventured to translate it by eagle, as\nshe says it is like a kite, only very much bigger; she sent us to see\na statue of a garpank that stood over a gateway in a street in\nCalcutta, which might be that of an eagle or of a huge hawk. She said\nsuch birds did not exist in Bengal, and that it was not the Garu[d.]a\n(the sovran of the feathered race and vehicle of Vish[n.]u, Benfey).\nGubernatis, in the 2nd volume of his _Zoological Mythology_, p. 189,\ntells a story from Monferrat where a king is blind, and can only be\ncured by \"bathing his eyes in oil with a feather\" of a griffin that\nlives on a high mountain. His third and youngest son catches and\nbrings him one of the griffins and the king regains his sight.\n\n5. Winning the gratitude of a bird by killing the snake or dragon that\nyear after year devours its young birds is such a common incident in\nfairy tales, that I will only mention two instances. One occurs in a\nDin\u00e1jpur tale published by Mr. G. H. Damant in the _Indian Antiquary_\nfor 5th April, 1872, p. 145, where the hero saves the young birds from\nthe snake. They tell the old birds. He lies under the tree and listens\nto the old birds relating how he will find the tree with the silver\nstem and golden branches he has come to seek. The other occurs at pp.\n119, 110, of a story collected by Vogl (_Volksmaerchen_ [Slavonic], p.\n79) called Sch\u00f6n-Jela. In this tale the hero is sheltered in the\ndreadful underground wilderness by a hermit. Here there is the\ngigantic bird, Einja, who every third year has a brood of four young\nbirds which a dragon as regularly devours. The hero, Prince Milan,\nwatches by the nest for the dragon and kills him. The young birds,\noverjoyed, fly out of the nest and cover the hero with their wings\ntill the old bird on her return asks who has saved them. Then they\nunfold their wings and she sees Prince Milan. In return she carries\nhim to the upper world.\n\n6. The word translated \"night-growing rice\" is R\u00e1t-vash\u00e1-ke-dh\u00e1n; and\nthe ayah's description of this rice is given in the story. In this\ndescription she spoke of it as ch\u00e1wal, the common word for uncooked\nrice, and said the Rakshas wished to drink its k\u00e1nj\u00ed-p\u00e1n\u00ed\n(rice-water). As it is a fairy plant I am afraid it is hopeless trying\nto find its botanical name. Unluckily, Dr. George King says _vash\u00e1_ is\nnot rice at all. This is what he wrote to me on the subject: \"_Vash\u00e1_\nis, I suppose, the same as _vasaka_, and in that case is _Justitia\nAdhatoda_, a straggling shrub common over the whole of India [very\nunlike the R\u00e1t-vash\u00e1-ke-dh\u00e1n] and which was in the Sanscrit as it is\nin the native pharmacopoeias. It is not a kind of rice, but belongs\nto the natural order of Acanthace\u00e6 (the family to which Acanthus and\nThunbergia belong).\" This night-growing rice may be compared to the\nday-growing rice in paragraph 2, p. 288, of the notes to this story.\n\n7. Compare with the paper boat the rolled-up burdock leaf given to the\nhero by the dwarf in the seventh Esthonian tale quoted by Gubernatis\n(_Zoological Mythology_, vol. I. p. 155): whenever this hero wishes to\ncross water he unrolls his burdock-leaf. Gubernatis compares this leaf\nto the lotus-leaf on which the Hind\u00fas represented their god as\nfloating in the midst of the waters (_ibid._).\n\n8. With the great wind that comes from the demon, compare the\nfollowing Swedish account of a giant in Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_,\nvol. II. p. 85. He asks his road of a lad, who directs him: then \"he\nwent off as in a whirlwind, and the lad now discovered, to his no\nsmall astonishment, that his forefinger with which he had pointed out\nthe way had followed along with the giant.\" In the old Scandinavian\nbelief the Giant Hr\u00e6svelgr sat at the end of heaven in an eagle's garb\n(arna ham). From the motion of his wings came the wind which passed\nover men (_ib._ vol. I. p. 8). It must be mentioned also that \"in the\nGerman popular tales the devil is frequently made to step into the\nplace of the giants\" (_ib._ vol. I. p. 234), and that St\u00f6pke or Stepke\nis in Lower Saxony an appellation of the devil or of the whirlwind,\nfrom which proceed the fogs which spread over the land (_ib._ p. 235).\nThe devil sits in the whirlwind and rushes howling and raging through\nthe air (Mark Sagen, _ib._ p. 377). The whirlwind is also ascribed to\nwitches. If a knife be cast into it, the witch will be wounded and\nbecome visible (Schreiber's Taschenbuch, 1839, p. 323; _ib._ vol. I.\np. 235). Mr. Ralston, in his _Songs of the Russian People_, p. 382,\nsays the Russian peasant attributes whirlwinds to the mad dances in\nwhich the devil celebrates his marriage with a witch, and at p. 155 of\nthe same book tells us how the malicious demon Lyeshy not only makes\nuse of the whirlwind as a travelling conveyance for himself and a\nmeans of turning intruders out of quarters he had selected for his own\nrefuge, but sends home in it people to whom he is grateful. In Ireland\nwe find a wind blowing from hell. King Loegaire tells Patrick, \"I\nperceived the wind cold, icy, like a two-ridged spear, which almost\ntook our hair from our heads and passed through us to the ground. I\nquestioned Ben\u00e9n as to this wind. Said Ben\u00e9n to me, 'This is the wind\nof hell which has opened before C\u00fachulainn.'\" _Lebar na huidre_, p.\n113 a. This \"wind of hell\" makes one think of the sweet-scented wind\nfrom the mid-day regions, and the evil-scented wind from the north,\nwhich in old Persian religious belief blew to meet pure and wicked\nsouls after death (Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, vol. II. pp. 98, 99).\nMr. Tylor mentions also the Fanti negroes' belief that the men and\nanimals they sacrifice to the local fetish are carried away in a\nwhirlwind imperceptibly to the worshippers (_ib._ p. 378).\n\n8. \u00c1bjhamjham-ke p\u00e1n\u00ed is what has been translated by \"water from the\nglittering well.\"\n\n9. The king had a great pit dug in the jungle. This is how Kai and\nBedwyr plucked out the beard of Dillus Varvawc, which had to be\nplucked out during life. They made him eat meat till he slept. \"Then\nKai made a pit under his feet, the largest in the world, and he struck\nhim a violent blow, and squeezed him into the pit. And there they\ntwitched out his beard completely with the wooden tweezers; and after\nthat they slew him altogether\" (\"Kilhwch and Olwen,\" _Mabinogion_,\nvol. II. p. 304).\n\n\nXXV.--THE FAN PRINCE.\n\n1. The boat would not move because the king had forgotten to get the\nthing his youngest daughter had asked him to bring her. Signor de\nGubernatis (_Zoological Mythology_, vol. II. p. 382) mentions an\nunpublished story from near Leghorn in which a sailor promises to\nbring his youngest daughter a rose. The eldest daughter is to have a\nshawl, and the second a hat. \"When the voyage is over, he is about to\nreturn, but having forgotten the rose, the ship refuses to move; he is\ncompelled to go back to look for a rose in a garden; a magician hands\nthe rose with a little box to the father to give it to one of his\ndaughters, whom the magician is to marry. At midnight, the father,\nhaving returned home, relates to his third daughter all that had\nhappened. The little box is opened; it carries off the third daughter\nto the magician, who happens to be King Pietraverde, and is now a\nhandsome young man.\"\n\n2. The princess's ring recalls Portia and Nerissa.\n\n3. A yog\u00ed is a Hind\u00fa religious mendicant.\n\n\nXXVI.--THE BED.\n\nThe merchant's son possibly was afraid of incurring the wrath either\nof an original spirit residing in the tree, or of some human soul who\nhad been born again as its genius (see paragraph 1, p. 276, of note\nto \"The fak\u00edr N\u00e1naks\u00e1 saves the merchant's life\"). M\u00faniy\u00e1 could give\nno reason for his asking each tree's permission to cut it down.\n\n\nXXVII.--P\u00c1NWPATT\u00cd R\u00c1N\u00cd.\n\nSee another version of this tale in the Baital Pach\u00edsi, No. 1. There\nthe heroine is called Padm\u00e1vat\u00ed, and her father King Dantav\u00e1t.\n\n\nXXVIII.--THE CLEVER WIFE.\n\n1. The merchant's wife tricks the four men into chests. Upakos\u00e1 makes\nthe like appointments, and plays a similar trick: compare her story\ntranslated from the Kath\u00e1p\u00edtha by Dr. G. B\u00fchler in the _Indian\nAntiquary_ for 4th October, 1872, pp. 305, 306: and in \"The\nTouchstone,\" a Din\u00e1jpur legend told by Mr. G. H. Damant at p. 337 of\nthe _Indian Antiquary_ for December, 1873, the hero-prince's second\nwife, Pr\u00e1nn\u00e1sin\u00ed, in order to regain the touchstone for her husband\n(like Upakos\u00e1 and the Clever Wife) makes appointments with, and then\ntricks, the kotw\u00e1l, the king's councillor, the prime minister, and\nlastly the king himself.\n\n2. She plays cards (_t\u00e1s_). Forbes in his Hind\u00fast\u00e1n\u00ed and English\nDictionary p. 543, says _t\u00e1s_ is the word used for _Indian_ playing\ncards. The Indian pack, he says, contains eight suits, each suit\nconsisting of a king, waz\u00edr, and ten cards having various figures\nrepresented on them from one to ten in number.\n\n[A close parallel to this tale is _Adi's Wife_, a Beng\u00e1li legend from\nDinagepore, told by the late Mr. Damant in the _Indian Antiquary_ for\nJanuary, 1880, p. 2.]\n\n\nXXIX.--R\u00c1J\u00c1 HARICHAND'S PUNISHMENT.\n\n1. This king is probably the same as \"The Upright King,\" Harchand\nR\u00e1j\u00e1, p. 68 of this collection.\n\n2. The Kop Sh\u00e1stra. M\u00faniy\u00e1 says _kop_ is a Hind\u00fast\u00e1n\u00ed, not a Beng\u00e1li\nword, and has nothing whatever to do with demons. This is what Mr.\nTawney writes on the subject: \"It might mean _kapi_, or _kapila_ if\nthe woman is a Beng\u00e1li. _Kapi_ is a name of Vish[n.]u, possibly it\nmight be the R\u00e1m\u00e1yana as treating of monkeys, but I really do not\nknow. I see Monier Williams says that there are certain demons called\n_kapa_. But of course _k\u00f3pa_ is anger. I suppose you know that the\nnatives of Bengal pronounce the short _a_ as _o_ in the English word\n_hop_.\" M\u00faniy\u00e1 pronounces _kop_ like the English word _cope_. This\nSh\u00e1stra seems as hopelessly mythical as the _R\u00e1t-vash\u00e1-ke-dh\u00e1n_.\n\n\nXXX.--THE KING'S SON AND THE WAZ\u00cdR'S DAUGHTER.\n\nIn a Servian story, \"Des Vaters letzter Wille,\" pp. 134, 135, 136, of\nthe _Volksmaerchen der Serben_ collected by Karadschitsch, the\nyoungest brother has to take his brother-in-law's horse over a bridge\nunder which he sees an immense kettle full of boiling water in which\nmen's heads are cooking while eagles peck at them. He then passes\nthrough a village where all is song and joyfulness because, so the\ninhabitants tell him, each year is fruitful with them and they live,\ntherefore, in the midst of plenty. Then he sees two dogs quarrelling\nwhich he cannot succeed in separating. He next passes through a\nvillage where all is sorrow and tears because each year comes hail, so\nthe inhabitants \"have nothing.\" Next he sees two boars fighting\ntogether and cannot separate them any more than he could part the\ndogs. Lastly, he reaches a beautiful meadow. In the evening his\nbrother-in-law expounds the meaning of all he has seen. The heads in\nthe boiling vessel represent the everlasting torment in the next\nworld. The happy villagers are good, charitable men, with whom God is\nwell pleased. The dogs are his elder brothers' wives. The sorrowing\nvillagers are men who know neither righteousness, concord, nor God.\nThe boars are his two wicked elder brothers. The meadow is paradise.\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nGLOSSARY.\n\n\nB\u00e9l, a fruit; _\u00c6gle marmelos_.\n\nBulbul, a kind of nightingale.\n\nChapr\u00e1s\u00ed, a messenger wearing a badge (_chapr\u00e1s_).\n\nCooly (Tamil _k\u00fali_), a labourer in the fields; also a porter.\n\nD\u00e1l, a kind of pulse; _Phaseolus aureus_, according to Wilson;\n_Paspalum frumentaceum_, according to Forbes.\n\nDom (the d is lingual), a low-caste Hind\u00fa.\n\nFak\u00edr, a Muhammadan religious mendicant.\n\nGhee (_gh\u00ed_), butter boiled and then set to cool.\n\nK\u00e1z\u00ed, a Muhammadan Judge.\n\nKotw\u00e1l, the chief police officer in a town.\n\nL\u00edch\u00ed, a fruit; _Scytalia litchi_, Roxb.\n\nMah\u00e1r\u00e1j\u00e1 (properly Mah\u00e1r\u00e1j), literally great king.\n\nMah\u00e1r\u00e1n\u00ed, literally great queen.\n\nMain\u00e1, a kind of starling.\n\nMaund (_man_), a measure of weight, about 87 lb.\n\nMohur (_muhar_), a gold coin worth 16 rupees.\n\nNautch (_n\u00e1tya_), a union of song, dance, and instrumental music.\n\nP\u00e1lk\u00ed, a palanquin.\n\nPice (_paisa_), a small copper coin.\n\nPilau, a dish made of either chicken or mutton, and rice.\n\nR\u00e1j\u00e1, a king.\n\nRakshas, a kind of demon that eats men and beasts.\n\nR\u00e1n\u00ed, a queen.\n\nRoh\u00fa, a kind of big fish.\n\nRupee (_r\u00fap\u00edya_), a silver coin, now worth about twenty pence.\n\nRyot (_r\u00e0\u00edyat_), a cultivator.\n\nSarai, a walled enclosure containing small houses for the use of\ntravellers.\n\nS\u00e1r\u00ed, a long piece of stuff which Hind\u00fa women wind round the body as a\npetticoat, passing one end over the head.\n\nSepoy (_sip\u00e1h\u00ed_), a soldier.\n\nWaz\u00edr, prime minister.\n\nYog\u00ed, a Hind\u00fa religious mendicant.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nLIST OF BOOKS REFERRED TO.\n\n\nBleek. _Hottentot Fables and Tales_, London, 1864.\n\nCampbell, J. F. _Popular Tales of the West Highlands_, 4 vols.\n Edinburgh, 1860.\n\nDasent, G. _Norse Tales_, Edinburgh, 1859.\n\nDietrich, Anton. _Russische Volksmaerchen_, Leipzig, 1831.\n\nFiske. _Myth and Mythmakers_, London, 1873.\n\nFrere, Miss. _Old Deccan Days_, 2nd edition, London, 1870.\n\nGonzenbach, Laura. _Sicilianische Maerchen_, Leipzig, 1870.\n\nGrant, C. _Gazetteer of India for the Central Provinces_, edited by,\n 2nd edition, N\u00e1gpur, 1870.\n\nGrey. _Polynesian Mythology_, London, 1855.\n\nGrimm. _Kinder und Hausmaerchen_, 3 vols., Goettingen, first 2 vols.\n 1850, 3rd vol. 1856.\n\nGrimm. _Irische Elfenmaerchen, uebersetzt von den Bruedern Grimm_,\n Leipzig, 1826.\n\nGubernatis, Angelo de. _Zoological Mythology_, 2 vols., London, 1870.\n\nGuest, Lady Charlotte. _The Mabinogion_, translated by, 3 vols.\n Llandovery, 1849.\n\nHaltrich, Joseph. _Deutsche Volksmaerchen aus dem Sachsenlande in\n Siebenbuergen_, Berlin, 1856.\n\nHenderson. _Folklore of the Northern Counties of England and the\n Border_, London, 1866.\n\nHunt. _Romances and Drolls of the West of England_, 2nd edition,\n London, 1871.\n\n_Indian Antiquary_, vols. I. (1872), II. (1873), and IV. (1875),\n Bombay.\n\nKaradschitsch, W. S. _Volksmaerchen der Serben_, Berlin, 1854.\n\nLane. _Arabian Nights_, 3 vols., London, 1859.\n\n_Lebar na Huidre._ Lithographic facsimile, Dublin, 1870.\n\nMilenowsky. _Maerchen aus Boehmen_, Breslau, 1853.\n\nNaake. _Slavonic Fairy Tales_, London, 1874.\n\n_Old New Zealand_, 1876.\n\nRalston. _Songs of the Russian People_, London, 1872. _Russian Folk\n Tales_, London, 1873.\n\nRink. _Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo_, Edinburgh and London,\n 1875.\n\n_Sagas from the Far East_, London, 1873.\n\nSchmidt, G. _Griechische Volksmaerchen, Sagen und Volkslieder_,\n Leipzig, 1877.\n\nSchott. _Wallachische Maerchen_, Stuttgart und Tuebingen, 1845.\n\nStier, G. _Ungarische Maerchen und Sagen_, Berlin, 1850. _Ungarische\n Volksmaerchen_, Pesth (preface is dated 1857).\n\nTaylor, Meadows. _Confessions of a Thug_, London, 1873.\n\nThorpe. _Yule Tide Stories_, London, 1853.\n\n_Three Middle Irish Homilies_, Calcutta, 1877.\n\nTylor. _Primitive Culture_, 2nd edition, London, 1873.\n\nVogl, Johann, N. _Volksmaerchen_ [Slavonic], Wien, 1837.\n\n[Decoration]\n\n\n\n\n[Decoration]\n\nINDEX.\n\n\n Adam and Eve, blackened after the Fall, 239\n\n Alligator, 63\n King of the Fishes, 66, 71\n\n Angels, 77, 88, 116, 225\n\n Antelopes, 85\n\n Ants, grateful, 155, 161\n\n Apsarases, 262\n\n Ashes, Lail\u00ed becomes, 77\n sugar turned into, 96\n\n \"Aunt,\" used to propitiate, 157, 262\n\n Avat\u00e1r, 265\n\n\n B\u00e1dsh\u00e1h, 237\n\n Bag, magic, 156\n\n Bamboo wand, 86, 98, 268\n\n Barber outwits tigers, 35\n\n Bear, 254\n tries to kill cat, 19\n\n Beauty, effects of, 62, 93, 142\n radiance of, 1, 240, 241, 242\n\n Bed, 201\n magic, 156\n\n Bees, Rakshases keeping their souls in, 261\n\n B\u00e9l Princess, 138, 282\n\n Bh\u00e1g\u00edrath\u00ed river, 75\n\n Birds, souls in, 58, 59, 61, 261\n conversing, 149, 150, 198\n\n Birth-marks, 1, 119, 242, 243, 253, 276\n\n Blindness cured, 77\n\n Blood of little finger, 83, 84, 141, 272\n\n Boar, God in shape of, 68\n\n Boar Trwyth, the, 241\n\n Boat refusing to move, 195, 292\n\n Body, star on, 243\n sun on, 243\n\n Bones of daughter sent to mother, 12, 250, 253\n\n Bowl, magic, 156\n\n Branch, cutting, 30\n\n Branding, 131, 134, 281\n\n Bricks turned into gold, 97\n\n Bulbul, 39\n\n Burning alive, 12, 61, 207, 249, 250\n\n\n Camel, strayed, 29, 63\n\n Card-playing, 218, 219, 234\n\n Cards, 293\n\n Cat, 255\n aunt to tiger, 15\n cheats jackal, 19\n leopard, 19\n which could not be killed, 18\n\n Ch\u00e1[n.][d.]\u00e1la, 266\n\n Charcoal, gold and silver turned into, 69, 226\n\n Chests, concealment in, 218\n\n Child, all-devouring, 255\n\n Children eaten, 52, 177\n\n Chin, star on, 119\n\n Clothes-box, magic, 33\n\n Cloud-myth, 257\n\n Cockatoo, Rakshas R\u00e1n\u00ed's soul in, 61\n\n Colour, 93\n\n Comfits, rain of, 29\n\n Cooking-pot, magic, 32\n\n Cotton-tree, 39\n\n Cow swallows child alive, 123\n\n Crow, 75\n\n Cuckoo, 39\n\n\n Daughter, _see Former life_.\n\n Day and night Myths, 256, 257\n\n Dead sheep mistaken for woman, 28\n\n Deer's horn, Mah\u00e1deo's, 232\n\n Demon, 173\n as a goat, 173, 288\n heating sand, 236\n swallowing suitors, 99\n tigers fighting with, 162\n\n _Dew_ (Demon), 273\n\n Dharma, 265\n\n Diamond, face shining like, 69\n\n Dog disputes with cat, 16\n Lail\u00ed becomes, 78, 79\n swallows child alive, 122\n\n Dolls, 168, 169\n\n Dom, 70\n\n Doves, eyes changed into, 5\n\n Dream, 232\n\n Dresses, seizure of, 6\n\n\n Eagle's feather, 181\n\n Eaglets, speaking, 183\n\n Earth blown away, 140\n cure with, 198, 199\n\n Ear, twisting, 130\n\n Elephant tries to kill cat, 18, 19\n\n Errands, 53, 55, 58, 179, 181, 184, 189, 288\n\n Euphemisms, 259\n\n Eve, _see Adam_.\n\n Eyes become birds, 5, 148\n pounded to bits, 176\n torn out of R\u00e1n\u00ed's head 51, 176, 289\n\n\n Face, star on, 1, 242, _see Powder_.\n\n Fainting at beauty, 82\n\n Fairies in jungle, 32\n teach monkey prince, 42\n and Prince Saz\u00e1d\u00e1, 93\n Indian, 243\n Irish and Cornish, 243\n of Maoris, 239, 244\n\n Fairy R\u00e1j\u00e1s, 1\n red, 168\n\n Fak\u00edr's feats, 92\n gifts to, 68, 224\n God in form of, 224\n helpful, 41, 185\n sleep of, 139, 167\n tasks to be performed by intending, 87\n\n Fan, 196, 197\n\n Fan Prince, 193\n\n Far\u00edd, Shekh, 272\n\n Fasting, _see Jackal_, _Kite_.\n\n Fate, 263\n seeking one's, 63\n\n Feather, causing invisibility, 59\n\n Feats of Fak\u00edrs, 92\n\n Figure of clay, water and ashes 78\n\n Fish, cooked, becomes alive, 71, 227, _see Roh\u00fa_.\n\n Fishes, king of, 66, 71\n souls of unborn children in, 235, 236\n\n Fire, _see Rejuvenescence_.\n\n Flower, children in, 10, 247, 248, 252\n hero weighing, 2\n heroine weighing, 1\n\n Flowers, life in, 4, 10, 144, 244, 247, 248, 252, 284\n on ears, 3\n\n Flute, 168, 169, 171, 287\n\n Fly, change into, 56, 57, 141\n\n Fools, 257\n\n Former life, 115, 276\n\n Four sides, 153, 156, 285, 286\n\n Fox, 254\n\n Frog, the voracious, 24\n slit open, 26\n\n Fruits, children, born from eating, 42, 91\n children in, 11, 246, 247, 252\n heroine in, 81, 142, 146, 246\n\n\n Gambling, 234\n\n Gang\u00e1, 89, 90\n\n Gardener, 277\n\n Garpank, 289\n\n Gesture language, 208, 210\n\n Glass powder, 197\n\n Glittering well, 189, 190\n\n Goat, demon in form of, 173, 288, _see Former life_.\n\n Gold, stones becoming, 59\n bricks turned into, 97\n in river, 66\n\n Golden wand, 262\n\n Grateful animals, 155, 161, 162\n\n\n Hair, power of, 268, 271\n of Mah\u00e1deo, 89, 90\n of gold, 1, 49, 62, 238, 240\n tree split with, 163\n\n Hand, star on, 253\n\n Handkerchief, 199\n\n Harchand R\u00e1j\u00e1, 68\n\n Harichand R\u00e1j\u00e1, 224\n\n Hari\u00e7chandra, 265, 266\n\n Head, sun on, 1, 242, 253\n becomes a dome, 148\n a house, 5\n a peacock, 244\n\n Head-collars, 230\n\n Heart becomes tank, 148\n\n Horse, hero's, 124, 125, 126, 277, 278\n swallows child alive, 124, 125\n\n House, arm or leg changed into, 5\n\n Husband, public choice of, 128, 280\n\n Husk story, 259\n\n\n Ikhw\u00e1n Ussafa cited, 239\n\n Indr\u00e1san, 93, 243\n\n Invisibility caused by feather, 59\n by blowing earth from palm, 140\n\n\n Jackal, 75, 255\n arbitrates, 16\n cheats the tiger, 17\n its fear of men, 23\n kills kite's sons, 22\n will not fast, 21\n\n Jamn\u00e1, 89, 90\n\n\n Kettle-drum, 120, 121, 162, 287\n\n Khud\u00e1, 237\n\n Kite worships and fasts, 21\n\n Knife, magic, 83, 266\n dipped in blood, 175, 176\n\n Knowledge of far-off events, 95, 272\n\n Kop Sh\u00e1stra, 225\n\n\n Lail\u00ed, 73\n\n Lamnissa, 284\n\n Leg becomes pillar, 148\n\n Lemon, Rakshases keeping their souls in, 261\n\n Leopard tries to kill cat, 19\n\n L\u00edch\u00ed, 91\n\n Life, restoration to, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 12, 22, 26, 71, 78, 83, 84,\n 86, 98, 141, 146, 151, 166, 227, 228, 232, 245, 247, 248, 250,\n 251, 253, 255, 256, 257, 282, 284, 285\n\n Life, former, 115, 276\n\n Lips of demons long, 273\n\n Little finger, 83, 141, 266, 267, 272\n\n Livers, standing on, 10\n\n Looking back, prohibited, 141\n danger of, 282\n\n Lotus-flower, heroine changed into, 144, 285\n\n\n Magic gifts, 32, 33, 34\n\n Mah\u00e1deo, 89, 90, 231, 232\n\n Main\u00e1, 148\n advises dog, 18\n demon's soul in, 187, 188\n\n Majn\u00fan, 73, 266\n\n Mangoes, 41\n mango-tree, 202\n mango-stone, consequence of eating, 50\n\n Mattresses thrown to save drowning prince, 47\n\n Milk sent by God, 146\n of tigress, 178\n\n Monkey, 42\n\n Moon on hand, 1\n on forehead, 119, 242\n princess shines like, 158\n\n Mothers eating sons, 52, 177\n\n Mouth, demon's, 185\n\n Mouse, 101\n\n Music, 93, 243, 287\n\n Mustard-seed, oil crushed out of, 160\n\n\n Nabha, 113\n\n N\u00e1nak, 276\n\n Neck, star on, 242\n\n Necklace disappears into wall, 229\n reappears, 233\n\n Needles, body stuck full of, 165, 287\n\n Numbers, sacred, 262\n\n\n Ointment restoring sight, 56\n\n Old woman, _see Former life_.\n\n\n Paper boat, 187, 188, 290\n\n Parrot, 148, 153\n\n Peacock, head becomes, 244\n\n Pearls drop from bird's eyes, 12\n from bird's beak, 254\n\n Phal\u00e1n\u00e1 country, 73, 74\n\n Ph\u00falmati, 240\n\n Pigeons, cooked, come to life, 228\n\n Pin, in bird's head, 12, 14\n transformation caused by, 254\n\n Pit dug for demon's execution, 192\n for Dillus Varvawc, 292\n\n Poison, 212\n\n Portrait, 223\n\n Powder flung in face, 77\n\n\n Rakshas, 5, 260\n as a goat, 288\n turned into R\u00e1n\u00ed, 51\n\n Rat and frog, 24\n\n Red cheeks, 93\n\n Rejuvenescence by fire, 76\n\n Revival of murdered heroines, 244, _see Life_.\n\n Rice, 289\n night-growing, 184\n\n Rig Veda cited, 238, 239\n\n Ring, 199, 292\n\n Robes of honour, 287\n\n Roh\u00fa fish, 75\n\n Rope and stick-magic, 34, 156\n\n Ruby, 65, 66\n falling from beak, 13, 14\n\n\n Salt, 171, 288\n Princess who loved her father like, 164\n\n S\u00e1r\u00ed, 58\n\n Seven children, 51\n queens, 175\n small dolls, 168\n sons, 177\n wives, 41, 51\n\n Shahz\u00e1d\u00e1, 271\n\n Shekh Far\u00edd, 95, 268, 272\n\n Shield full of money, 53, 55, 58\n\n Sight restored, 57, 190, 289\n\n Silver, _see Charcoal_, _Wand_.\n\n Singing, hero, 127, 128\n\n Skin of monkey, 42\n burnt, 49\n\n Sleep, fak\u00edr's, 139, 167\n dragon's, 282\n\n Snake, 75\n conversing, 204\n\n Son-in-law how chosen, 42\n\n Soul embodiment 261, _see Birds_, _Cockatoo_, _Lemon_, _Main\u00e1_.\n\n Soul or life of Rakshas, 56, 57, 261\n\n Spell, 91\n\n Star on body, 243\n on chin, 119\n on face, 1, 242\n on hands, 253\n on neck, 242\n\n Stepmother, 7\n\n Stick and rope, magic, 156\n\n Stick suspends and restores life, 54, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 186\n\n Stones becoming gold, 59\n fates are, 64\n transformation into, 140, 226, 282\n substituted for baby, 121\n\n Strength, feats of, 108\n\n Strong woman, 108\n\n Sugar, _see Ashes_.\n\n Summer and winter myth, 257\n\n Sun on head, 1, 242, 253\n on body, 243\n\n Sun jewel-box, 167\n\n Sun's rays, 266, 268, 271\n\n Svayamvara 280\n\n Sweeper, 88\n\n\n Tank, heart becomes, 148\n\n Thorn in tiger's foot, 17, 64, 155\n\n Three, 87\n\n Tiger, 254, 258\n grateful, 65, 155, 162, 180\n outwitted by barber, 35\n nephew of cat, 15\n stores of, 35, 36, 65, _see Thorn_.\n\n Transformations, 244, 250, 251, 284, 285\n\n Transmigration of souls, 276\n\n Tree split with hair, 163\n\n Trees, 292\n\n Twelve hours, 225\n twelve years, 32, 63, 64, 87, 88, 98, 167, 225, 264\n\n\n \"Uncle\" used to propitiate, 54, 262\n\n Underground palace, 151\n\n\n Var[n.]a, 238\n\n Vi\u00e7vamitra, 265\n\n Vish[n.]u, 265\n\n\n Wand, bamboo, 86, 98, 268\n golden, reviving by, 261\n silver, death caused by touching with, 261\n\n Water, opening fruit or casket containing maiden near, 284\n\n Water-nymphs, 89\n\n Water-snake, 53\n\n Wax hatchet, 162\n\n Weight of heroine, 243\n\n Well, fairy living at bottom of, 168\n glittering, 189, 190\n\n Wind blowing from demon, 185, 290\n foretelling fall of palace, 205\n\n Wishes, 95\n\n Wives called Mamma, 86, 87\n\n Worship, _see Kite_.\n\n Wrestlers, 108\n\n\n Yog\u00ed, personating, 198, 214\n\n\n\n LONDON:\n GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, PRINTERS,\n ST. JOHN'S SQUARE.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note\n\nPrinter errors (for example, omitted or transposed characters) have\nbeen repaired, as have punctuation errors.\n\nVariable spelling, hyphenation and use of accents are preserved as\nprinted in quoted material, but have otherwise been made consistent\nwhere there was a clear prevalence of one form over the other.\n\nSome of the spelling of Hindi words vary from modern spelling, and\nthese have been preserved as printed. There is also some variation\nwithin the text--for example, dhall is used in the text while the\nglossary shows D\u00e1l. These are also preserved as printed.\n\nThere are some discrepancies between the title of stories as given in\nthe index and main text, and in the notes at the end. These have been\npreserved as printed.\n\nErrors in page references in the index have been repaired.","title":"Indian Fairy Tales","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":113956}