{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_37884/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_37884","id":"gutenberg_37884","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37884","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Khasi (Indic people) -- Folklore"],"text":"Produced by Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net/ for Project\nGutenberg (This file was produced from images generously\nmade available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                        FOLK-TALES OF THE KHASIS\n\n                                   By\n\n                               Mrs. RAFY\n\n\n\n                              Illustrated\n\n                       Macmillan and Co., Limited\n                      St. Martin's Street, London\n                                  1920\n\n\n\n\n\n\nFOREWORD\n\n\nWithout any apology I offer to the public this imperfect collection\nof the quaint and fascinating Folk-Tales of the Khasis, believing that\nthe perusal of them cannot fail to cheer and to give pleasure to many.\n\nOf some of the stories there are several versions current in the\ncountry,--sometimes conflicting versions,--but this in no way\ndiminishes their charm. In such cases I have selected the version\nwhich appeared to me the most unique and graceful, and seemed to throw\nthe truest light on the habits and the character of this genial and\ninteresting Hill race.\n\nSeveral of these tales have been published by me from time to time\nin The Statesman of Calcutta, by whose courtesy I am permitted to\nreproduce them in this volume.\n\nI shall consider the book amply rewarded if it bears the fruit I\nanticipate, by rendering more cheerful an hour or two in the life of\nits readers during these busy and strenuous times.\n\n\nK. U. R.\n\nAugust 10, 1918.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                                       Page\n     1. What makes the Eclipse                            1\n     2. The Legend of Mount Sophet Bneng                  8\n     3. How the Peacock got his Beautiful Feathers       10\n     4. The Goddess who came to live with Mankind        18\n     5. The Formation of the Earth                       24\n     6. U Raitong (The Khasi Orpheus)                    26\n     7. The Tiger and the Monkeys                        37\n     8. The Legend of the Iei Tree                       43\n     9. Hunting the Stag Lapalang                        49\n    10. The Goddesses Ka Ngot and Ka Iam                 52\n    11. U Biskurom                                       55\n    12. U Thlen                                          58\n    13. How the Dog came to live with Man                68\n    14. The Origin of Betel and Tobacco                  75\n    15. The Stag and the Snail                           81\n    16. The Leap of Ka Likai                             85\n    17. The Shadows on the Moon                          89\n    18. U Ksuid Tynjang                                  92\n    19. What makes the Lightning                         97\n    20. The Prohibited Food                             100\n    21. The Cooing of the Doves                         104\n    22. How the Colour of the Monkey became Grey        106\n    23. Ka Panshandi, the Lazy Tortoise                 108\n    24. The Idiot and the Hyndet Bread                  111\n    25. U Ramhah                                        116\n    26. How the Cat came to live with Man               120\n    27. How the Fox got his White Breast                123\n    28. How the Tiger got his Strength                  128\n    29. How the Goat came to live with Man              131\n    30. How the Ox came to be the Servant of Man        134\n    31. The Lost Book                                   137\n    32. The Blessing of the Mendicant                   140\n\n\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n    In the Neighbourhood of the Mountain\n        of the Iei Tree                        Frontispiece\n\n                                                       Page\n    Khasi Peasants                                        3\n    At the Foot of Mount Shillong                        19\n    At the Foot of the Mountain of the Iei Tree          44\n    A Khasi Waterfall in the Neighbourhood of the\n        Mountain of the Iei Tree                         45\n    The Haunt of Ka Kma Kharai                           60\n    Sacred Grove and Monoliths                           63\n    At the Foot of the Shillong Mountains                69\n    A View in the reputed Region where U Ramhah the\n        Giant committed his Atrocities                   76\n    The Leap of Ka Likai                                 86\n    The reputed Haunt of U Ksuid Tynjang                 93\n    A Khasi Industry--Frying Fish in the Open Air       141\n\n\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nWHAT MAKES THE ECLIPSE\n\n\nVery early in the history of the world a beautiful female child, whom\nthe parents called Ka Nam, was born to a humble family who lived in a\nvillage on the borders of one of the great Khasi forests. She was such\na beautiful child that her mother constantly expressed her fears lest\nsome stranger passing that way might kidnap her or cast an \"evil eye\"\nupon her, so she desired to bring her up in as much seclusion as their\npoor circumstances would permit. To this the father would not agree;\nhe told his wife not to harbour foolish notions, but to bring up the\nchild naturally like other people's children, and teach her to work and\nto make herself useful. So Ka Nam was brought up like other children,\nand taught to work and to make herself useful.\n\nOne day, as she was taking her pitcher to the well, a big tiger came\nout of the forest and carried her to his lair. She was terrified\nalmost to death, for she knew that the tigers were the most cruel\nof all beasts. The name of this tiger was U Khla, and his purpose\nin carrying off the maiden was to eat her, but when he saw how young\nand small she was, and that she would not suffice for one full meal\nfor him, he decided to keep her in his lair until she grew bigger.\n\nHe took great care of her and brought home to her many delicacies\nwhich her parents had never been able to afford, and as she never\nsuspected the cruel designs of the tiger, she soon grew to feel quite\nat home and contented in the wild beast's den, and she grew up to be\na maiden of unparalleled loveliness.\n\nThe tiger was only waiting his opportunity, and when he saw that\nshe had grown up he determined to kill her, for he was longing to\neat the beautiful damsel whom he had fed with such care. One day,\nas he busied himself about his lair, he began to mutter to himself:\n\"Now the time has come when I can repay myself for all my trouble in\nfeeding this human child; to-morrow I will invite all my fellow-tigers\nhere and we will feast upon the maiden.\"\n\nIt happened that a little mouse was foraging near the den at that\ntime and she overheard the tiger muttering to himself. She was very\nsorry for the maiden, for she knew that she was alone and friendless\nand entirely at the mercy of the tiger; so the little mouse went\nand told the maiden that the tigers were going to kill her and eat\nher on the following day. Ka Nam was in great distress and wept very\nbitterly. She begged of the mouse to help her to escape, and the mouse,\nhaving a tender heart, gave her what aid was in her power.\n\nIn the first place she told the maiden to go out of the den and to\nseek the cave of the magician, U Hynroh, the Giant Toad, to whom\nthe realm was under tribute. He was a peevish and exacting monster\nfrom whom every one recoiled, and Ka Nam would have been terrified\nto approach him under ordinary conditions, but the peril which faced\nher gave her courage, and under the guidance of the mouse she went\nto the toad's cave. When he saw her and beheld how fair she was,\nand learned how she had been the captive of his old rival the tiger,\nhe readily consented to give her his protection; so he clothed her in\na toadskin, warning her not to divest herself of it in the presence\nof others on pain of death. This he did in order to keep the maiden\nin his own custody and to make her his slave.\n\nWhen the mouse saw that her beautiful friend had been transformed\ninto the likeness of a hideous toad she was very sorrowful, and\nregretted having sent her to seek the protection of U Hynroh, for\nshe knew that as long as she remained in the jungle Ka Nam would be\nhenceforth forced to live with the toads and to be their slave. So\nshe led her away secretly and brought her to the magic tree which was\nin that jungle, and told the maiden to climb into the tree that she\nmight be transported to the sky, where she would be safe from harm\nfor ever. So the maid climbed into the magic tree and spoke the magic\nwords taught her by the mouse: \"Grow tall, dear tree, the sky is near,\nexpand and grow.\" Upon which the tree began to expand upwards till\nits branches touched the sky, and then the maiden alighted in the\nBlue Realm and the tree immediately dwindled to its former size.\n\nBy and by the tiger and his friends arrived at the den, ravenous\nfor their feast, and when he found that his prey had disappeared\nhis disappointment and anger knew no bounds and were terrible to\nwitness. He uttered loud threats for vengeance on whoever had connived\nat the escape of his captive, and his roars were so loud that the\nanimals in the jungle trembled with fear. His fellow-tigers also became\nenraged when they understood that they had been deprived of their\nfeast, and they turned on U Khla and in their fury tore him to death.\n\nMeanwhile Ka Nam wandered homeless in the Blue Realm, clothed in the\ntoadskin. Every one there lived in palaces and splendour, and they\nrefused to admit the loathsome, venomous-looking toad within their\nportals, while she, mindful of the warning of U Hynroh, the magician,\nfeared to uncover herself. At last she appeared before the palace\nof Ka Sngi, the Sun, who, ever gracious and tender, took pity on her\nand permitted her to live in a small outhouse near the palace.\n\nOne day, thinking herself to be unobserved, the maid put aside her\ncovering of toadskin and sat to rest awhile in her small room, but\nbefore going abroad she carefully wrapped herself in the skin as\nbefore. She was accidentally seen by the son of Ka Sngi, who was a\nvery noble youth. He was astonished beyond words to find a maiden of\nsuch rare beauty hiding herself beneath a hideous toadskin and living\nin his mother's outhouse, and he marvelled what evil spell had caused\nher to assume such a loathsome covering. Her beauty enthralled him\nand he fell deeply in love with her.\n\nHe hastened to make his strange discovery known to his mother, and\nentreated her to lodge the maiden without delay in the palace and to\nlet her become his wife. Ka Sngi, having the experience and foresight\nof age, determined to wait before acceding to the request of her\nyoung and impetuous son until she herself had ascertained whether a\nmaid such as her son described really existed beneath the toadskin,\nor he had been deluded by some evil enchantment into imagining that\nhe had seen a maiden in the outhouse.\n\nSo Ka Sngi set herself to watch the movements of the toad in the\nouthouse, and one day, to her surprise and satisfaction, she beheld\nthe maiden uncovered, and was astonished at her marvellous beauty\nand pleasing appearance. But she did not want her son to rush into an\nalliance with an enchanted maiden, so she gave him a command that he\nshould not go near or speak to the maid until the toadskin had been\ndestroyed and the evil spell upon her broken. Once again Ka Sngi set\nherself to watch the movements of the toad, and one day her vigilance\nwas rewarded by discovering Ka Nam asleep with the toadskin cast\naside. Ka Sngi crept stealthily and seized the toadskin and burned\nit to ashes. Henceforth the maiden appeared in her own natural form,\nand lived very happily as the wife of Ka Sngi's son, released for\never from the spell of the Giant Toad.\n\nThere was an old feud between U Hynroh and Ka Sngi because she\nrefused to pay him tribute, and when he learned that she had wilfully\ndestroyed the magic skin in which he had wrapped the maiden, his anger\nwas kindled against Ka Sngi, and he climbed up to the Blue Realm to\ndevour her. She bravely withstood him, and a fierce struggle ensued\nwhich was witnessed by the whole universe.\n\nWhen mankind saw the conflict they became silent, subdued\nwith apprehension lest the cruel monster should conquer their\nbenefactress. They uttered loud cries and began to beat mournfully\non their drums till the world was full of sound and clamour.\n\nLike all bullies, U Hynroh was a real coward at heart, and when he\nheard the noise of drums and shouting on the earth, his heart melted\nwithin him with fear, for he thought it was the tramp of an advancing\narmy coming to give him battle. He quickly released his hold upon Ka\nSngi and retreated with all speed from the Blue Realm. Thus mankind\nwere the unconscious deliverers of their noble benefactress from the\nhand of her cruel oppressor.\n\nU Hynroh continues to make periodical attacks on the sun to this day,\nand in many countries people call the attacks \"Eclipses,\" but the\nAncient Khasis, who saw the great conflict, knew it to be the Giant\nToad, the great cannibal, trying to devour Ka Sngi. He endeavours to\nlaunch his attacks when the death of some great personage in the world\nis impending, hoping to catch mankind too preoccupied to come to the\nrescue. Throughout the whole of Khasi-land to this day it is the custom\nto beat drums and to raise a loud din whenever there is an eclipse.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nTHE LEGEND OF MOUNT SOPHET BNENG\n\n\nSophet Bneng is a bare dome-like hill, about thirteen miles to the\nnorth of Shillong, and not far from the Shillong-Gauhati highroad to\nthe East, from which it is plainly visible. Its name signifies the\ncentre of heaven.\n\nFrom the time of the creation of the world a tall tree, reaching to the\nsky, grew on the top of this hill, and was used by the heavenly beings\nas a ladder to ascend and descend between heaven and earth. At that\ntime the earth was uninhabited, but all manner of trees and flowers\ngrew in abundance, so that it was a very beautiful and desirable\nplace, and they of heaven frequently came down to roam and to take\ntheir pleasure upon it.\n\nWhen they found that the land in the neighbourhood of Sophet Bneng\nwas fertile and goodly, they began to cultivate it for profit, but\nthey never stayed overnight on the earth; they ascended to heaven,\naccording to the decree. Altogether sixteen families followed the\npastime of cultivating the land upon the earth.\n\nAmong the heavenly beings there was one who greatly coveted power,\nand was unwilling to remain the subject of his Creator, and aspired\nto rule over his brethren. He was constantly seeking for opportunities\nwhereby to realise his ambitions.\n\nOne day it happened that seven families only of the cultivators\nchose to descend to the earth, the other nine remaining in heaven\nthat day. When they were busy at work in their fields, the ambitious\none covertly left his brethren, and, taking his axe secretly, he cut\ndown the tree of communication, so that the seven families could not\nreturn to their heavenly home.\n\nThus it was that mankind came to live on the earth, and it is from\nthese seven families--called by the Khasis \"Ki Hinniew Skum\" (the\nseven nests, or the seven roots)--who descended from heaven on that\nfatal day that all the nations of the earth have sprung.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nHOW THE PEACOCK GOT HIS BEAUTIFUL FEATHERS\n\n\nWhen the world was young and when all the animals spoke the language\nof mankind, the peacock, U Klew, was but an ordinary grey-feathered\nbird without any pretensions to beauty. But, even in those days,\nhe was much given to pride and vanity, and strutted about with all\nthe majesty of royalty, just because his tuft was more erect than the\ntuft of other birds and because his tail was longer and was carried\nwith more grace than the tails of any of his companions.\n\nHe was a very unaccommodating neighbour. His tail was so big and\nunwieldy that he could not enter the houses of the more lowly birds,\nso he always attended the courts of the great, and was entertained\nby one or other of the wealthy birds at times of festivals in the\njungle. This increased his high opinion of himself and added to his\nself-importance. He became so haughty and overbearing that he was\ncordially disliked by his neighbours, who endeavoured to repay him\nby playing many a jest at his expense.\n\nThey used to flatter him, pretending that they held him in very high\nesteem, simply for the amusement of seeing him swelling his chest and\nhearing him boast. One day they pretended that a great Durbar of the\nbirds had been held to select an ambassador to carry the greetings\nof the jungle birds to the beautiful maiden Ka Sngi, who ruled in the\nBlue Realm and poured her bright light so generously on their world,\nand that U Klew had been chosen for this great honour.\n\nThe peacock was very elated and became more swaggering than ever,\nand talked of his coming visit with great boastings, saying that not\nonly was he going as the ambassador from the birds, but he was going\nin his own interests as well, and that he would woo and win the royal\nmaiden for his wife and live with her in the Blue Realm.\n\nThe birds enjoyed much secret fun at his expense, none of them dreaming\nthat he would be foolish enough to make the attempt to fly so far,\nfor he was such a heavy-bodied bird and had never flown higher than\na tree-top.\n\nBut much to the surprise of every one, the peacock expressed his\nintention of starting to the Blue Realm and bade his friends good-bye,\nthey laughing among themselves, thinking how ridiculous he was making\nhimself, and how angry he would be when he found how he had been\nduped. Contrary to their expectations, however, U Klew continued his\nflight upwards till they lost sight of him, and they marvelled and\nbecame afraid, not knowing to what danger their jest might drive him.\n\nStrong on the wing, U Klew soared higher and higher, never halting\ntill he reached the sky and alighted at the palace of Ka Sngi, the\nmost beautiful of all maidens and the most good.\n\nNow Ka Sngi was destined to live alone in her grand palace, and her\nheart often yearned for companionship. When she saw that a stranger\nhad alighted at her gates she rejoiced greatly, and hastened to\nreceive him with courtesy and welcome. When she learned the errand\nupon which he had come, she was still happier, for she thought, \"I\nshall never pine for companionship again, for this noble bird will\nalways live with me\"; and she smiled upon the world and was glad.\n\nWhen U Klew left the earth and entered the realm of light and sunshine,\nhe did not cast from him his selfish and conceited nature, but rather\nhis selfishness and conceit grew more pronounced as his comforts and\nluxuries increased. Seeing the eager welcome extended to him by the\nbeautiful maiden, he became more uplifted and exacting than ever and\ndemanded all sorts of services at her hands; he grew surly and cross\nunless she was always in attendance upon him. Ka Sngi, on the other\nhand, was noble and generous and delighted to render kindnesses to\nothers. She loved to shine upon the world and to see it responding to\nher warmth and her smiles. To her mate, U Klew, she gave unstinted\nattention and waited upon him with unparalleled love and devotion,\nwhich he received with cold indifference, considering that all this\nattention was due to his own personal greatness, rather than to the\ngracious and unselfish devotion of his consort.\n\nIn former times Ka Sngi had found one of the chief outlets for her\nmunificence in shedding her warm rays upon the earth; but after the\ncoming of U Klew her time became so absorbed by him that she was no\nlonger able to leave her palace, so the earth became cold and dreary,\nand the birds in the jungle became cheerless, their feathers drooped,\nand their songs ceased. U Slap, the rain, came and pelted their\ncosy nests without mercy, causing their young ones to die; U Lyoh,\nthe mist, brought his dark clouds and hung them over the rice fields\nso that no grain ripened; and Ka Eriong, the storm, shook the trees,\ndestroying all the fruit, so that the birds wandered about homeless\nand without food.\n\nIn their great misery they sought counsel of mankind, whom they knew\nto be wiser than any of the animals. By means of divinations mankind\nascertained that all these misfortunes were due to the presence of U\nKlew in the Blue Realm, for his selfish disposition prevented Ka Sngi\nfrom bestowing her light and her smiles upon the world as in former\ntimes; and there was no hope for prosperity until U Klew could be\nlured back to jungle-land.\n\nIn those days there lived in the jungle a cunning woman whose name\nwas Ka Sabuit. Acting on the advice of mankind, the birds invoked her\naid to encompass the return of the peacock from the Blue Realm. At\nthat time Ka Sabuit was very destitute, owing to the great famine;\nshe had nothing to eat except some wild roots and no seed to sow in\nher garden except one gourdful of mustard seeds--the cheapest and\nmost common of all seeds--and even this she was afraid to sow lest the\nhungry birds should come and devour it and leave her without a grain.\n\nWhen the birds came to seek counsel of her she was very pleased,\nhoping that she could by some design force them to promise not to\nrob her garden. After they had explained to her their trouble, she\nundertook to bring U Klew back to the jungle within thirteen moons\non two conditions: one, that the birds should refrain from picking\nthe seeds from her garden; the other, that they should torment the\nanimals if they came to eat her crops or to trample on her land. These\nappeared such easy terms that the birds readily agreed to them.\n\nThe garden of the cunning woman was in an open part of the jungle and\ncould be seen from many of the hill-tops around, and in past days the\nsun used to shine upon it from morning till night. Thither Ka Sabuit\nwended her way after the interview with the birds, and she began to\ndig the ground with great care and patience, bestowing much more time\nupon it than she had ever been known to do. Her neighbours laughed\nand playfully asked her if she expected a crop of precious stones to\ngrow from her mustard seed that year that she spent so much labour\nupon the garden, but the elderly dame took no heed. She worked on\npatiently and kept her own counsel while the birds waited and watched.\n\nShe shaped her mustard bed like unto the form of a woman; this provoked\nthe mirth of her neighbours still more and incited many questions\nfrom them, but Ka Sabuit took no heed. She worked patiently on and\nkept her own counsel while the birds waited and watched.\n\nBy and by the seeds sprouted and the plot of land shaped like a\nwoman became covered with glistening green leaves, while the birds\ncontinued to watch and to keep the animals at bay, and the cunning\nwoman watered and tended her garden, keeping her own counsel.\n\nIn time small yellow flowers appeared on all the mustard plants, so\nthat the plot of land shaped like a woman looked in the distance like a\nbeautiful maiden wearing a mantle of gold that dazzled the eyes. When\nthe neighbours saw it they wondered at the beauty of it and admired\nthe skill of the cunning woman; but no one could understand or guess\nat her reason for the strange freak and Ka Sabuit threw no light on\nthe matter. She still patiently worked on and kept her own counsel.\n\nUp in the Blue Realm U Klew continued his despotic and arrogant sway,\nwhile his gentle and noble wife spared no pains to gratify his every\nwish. Like all pampered people who are given all their desires, the\npeacock became fretful and more and more difficult to please, tiring\nof every diversion, and ever seeking some new source of indulgence,\ntill at last nothing seemed to satisfy him; even the splendours and\nmagnificence of the palace of Ka Sngi began to pall.\n\nNow and then memories of his old home and old associates came to\ndisturb his mind, and he often wondered to himself what had been the\nfate of his old playmates in jungle-land. One day he wandered forth\nfrom the precincts of the palace to view his old haunts, and as he\nrecognised one familiar landmark after another his eye was suddenly\narrested by the sight of (as it seemed to him) a lovely maiden dressed\nall in gold lying asleep in a garden in the middle of the forest\nwhere he himself had once lived. At sight of her his heart melted\nlike water within him for the love of her. He forgot the allegiance\ndue to his beautiful and high-born wife, Ka Sngi; he could only think\nof the maiden dressed all in gold, lying asleep in a jungle garden,\nguarded by all the birds.\n\nAfter this U Klew was reluctant to remain in the Blue Realm. His whole\nbeing yearned for the maiden he had seen lying asleep on the earth,\nand one day, to his wife's sorrow, he communicated his determination\nto return to his native land to seek the object of his new love. Ka\nSngi became a sorrowful wife, for there is no pang so piercing to the\nheart of a constant woman as the pang inflicted by being forsaken\nby her husband. With all manner of inducements and persuasions and\ncharms she tried to prevail upon him to keep faithful to his marriage\nvows, but he was heartless and obdurate; and, unmindful of all ties,\nhe took his departure. As he went away Ka Sngi followed him, weeping,\nand as she wept her tears bedewed his feathers, transforming them into\nall the colours of the rainbow. Some large drops falling on his long\ntail as he flew away were turned into brilliant-hued spots, which\nare called \"Ummat Ka Sngi\" (the Sun's tears) by the Khasis to this\nday. Ka Sngi told him that they were given for a sign that wherever\nhe might be and on whomsoever his affections might be bestowed, he\nwould never be able to forget her, Ka Sngi, the most beautiful and\nthe most devoted of wives.\n\nThus U Klew, the peacock, came back to the jungle. The birds,\nwhen they saw his beautiful feathers, greeted him with wonder and\nadmiration. When he informed them that he had come in quest of a lovely\nmaiden dressed all in gold, they began to laugh, and it now became\nclear to them what had been the object of the cunning woman when she\nshaped her mustard bed like unto the shape of a woman. They invited\nU Klew to come and be introduced to the object of his love, and they\nled him forth with great ceremony to the garden of Ka Sabuit, where he\nbeheld, not a beautiful maiden as he had imagined, but a bed of common\nmustard cunningly shaped. His shame and humiliation were pitiful to\nbehold; he tried to fly back to the Blue Realm, but he was no longer\nable to take a long flight; so, uttering the most sad and plaintive\ncries, he had to resign himself to the life of the jungle for ever.\n\nEvery morning, it is said, the peacock can be seen stretching forth\nhis neck towards the sky and flapping his wings to greet the coming\nof Ka Sngi; and the only happiness left to him is to spread his lovely\nfeathers to catch the beams which she once more sheds upon the earth.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nTHE GODDESS WHO CAME TO LIVE WITH MANKIND\n\n(A LEGEND OF THE SHILLONG PEAK)\n\n\nShillong Peak is the highest mountain in the Khasi Hills, and although\nit bears such a prosaic name in our days, the mountain was a place of\nrenown in the days of the Ancient Khasis, full of romance and mystery,\nsacred to the spirits and to the gods. In those days the mountain\nitself, and the whole country to the north of it, was one vast forest,\nwhere dwelt demons and dragons, who cast evil spells and caused dire\nsickness to fall upon any unfortunate person who happened to spend\na night in that wild forest.\n\nIn the mountain there lived a god. At first the Ancients had no clear\nrevelation about this deity; they were vaguely aware of his existence,\nbut there was no decree that sacrifices should be offered to him. After\na time there arose among the Khasis a very wise man of the name\nof U Shillong who was endowed with great insight to understand the\nmysteries, and he discovered that the god of the mountain was great\nand powerful, and sacrifice and reverence should be offered to him,\nand he taught his neighbours how to perform the rites acceptably. The\nname of the deity was not revealed, so the people began to call him \"U\n'Lei Shillong\" (the god of U Shillong) after the name of the man who\nfirst paid him homage. Then gradually he came to be called \"the god\nShillong,\" and in time the mountain itself was called the mountain\nof Shillong, and from this is derived the name of the present town\nof Shillong.\n\nPossibly the god Shillong was, and remains, one of the best-known\nand most generally reverenced of all the Khasi gods, for even on\nthe far hill-tops of Jaintia altars have been raised to his service\nand honour. Although sacrifices are being offered to him at distant\nshrines, the abode of the god is in the Shillong mountain, more\nespecially in the sacred grove on the summit of the peak itself,\nwhich is such a familiar landmark in the country.\n\nJudging from tradition, this deity was regarded as a benign and\nbenevolent being, forbearing in his attitude towards mankind, who were\nprivileged to hunt in his forests unhindered by dangers and sicknesses,\nand the dances of mankind were acceptable in his sight. He frequently\nassisted them in their misfortunes and helped them to overcome the\noppression of demons. It was he who endowed U Suidnoh with wisdom\nto fight and to conquer U Thlen, the great snake-god and vampire\nfrom Cherrapoonjee, and it was by his intervention that Ka Thei and\nher sister were delivered from the grasp of the merciless demon,\nU Ksuid Tynjang.\n\nTradition also points out that this famous deity had a wife and\nfamily, and three at least of his daughters are renowned in Khasi\nfolk-lore. One of them transformed herself into the likeness of\na Khasi maiden and came to live with mankind, where she became\nthe ancestress of a race of chiefs. Two other daughters, out of\nplayfulness, transformed themselves into two rivers, and are with us\nin that form to this day. This is the story of the goddess who came\nto live with mankind:\n\nMany hundreds of years ago, near the place now known as Pomlakrai,\nthere was a cave called the Cave of Marai, near to which stood a\nhigh perpendicular rock around which the youthful cow-herds of the\ntime used to play. They gathered there from different directions,\nand passed the time merrily, practising archery and playing on their\nflutes, while keeping an eye on their herds. The rock was too high\nfor them to attempt to climb it, and it was always spoken of as\n\"the rock on which the foot of man never trod.\"\n\nOn a certain day, when the lads came as usual to the familiar\nrendezvous, they were surprised to see, sitting on the top of the\nrock, a fair young girl watching them silently and wistfully. The\nchildren, being superstitious, took fright at sight of her and ran\nin terror to Mylliem, their village, leaving the cattle to shift\nfor themselves. When they told their news, the whole village was\nroused and men quickly gathered to the public meeting-place to hold\na consultation. They decided to go and see for themselves if the\napparition seen by the children was a real live child, or if they\nhad been deluded by some spell or enchantment. Under the guidance of\nthe lads, they hurried to the place on the hill where the rock stood,\nand there, as the boys had stated, sat a fair and beautiful child.\n\nThe clothes worn by the little girl were far richer than any worn\nby their own women-folk, so they judged that she belonged to some\nrich family, and she was altogether so lovely that the men gazed\nopen-mouthed at her, dazzled by her beauty. Their sense of chivalry\nsoon asserted itself, however, and they began to devise plans to\nrescue the maiden from her perilous position. To climb up the face\nof that steep rock was an impossible feat; so they called to her,\nbut she would not answer; they made signs for her to descend, but\nshe did not stir, and the men felt baffled and perplexed.\n\nChief among the rescuers was a man called U Mylliem Ngap, who was\nremarkable for his sagacity and courage. When he saw that the child\nrefused to be coaxed, he attributed it to her fear to venture unaided\ndown that steep and slippery rock. So he sent some of his comrades\nto the jungle to cut down some bamboos, which he joined together and\nmade into a pole long enough to reach the top of the rock. Then he\nbeckoned to the child to take hold of it, but she sat on unmoved.\n\nBy this time the day was beginning to wane, yet the child did not stir\nand the rescuers were growing desperate. To leave her to her fate on\nthat impregnable rock would be little less than cold-blooded murder,\nfor nothing but death awaited her. They began to lament loudly, as\npeople lament when mourning for their dead, but the child sat on in\nthe same indifferent attitude.\n\nJust then U Mylliem Ngap noticed a tuft of wild flowers growing near\nthe cave, and he quickly gathered a bunch and fastened it to the end\nof the long pole and held it up to the maiden's view. The moment she\nsaw the flowers, she gave a cry of delight and held out her hand to\ntake them. U Mylliem Ngap promptly lowered the pole and the child\nmoved towards it, but before she could grasp the flowers the pole was\nagain lowered; so, little by little, step by step, as the men watched\nwith bated breath, the little maid reached the ground in safety.\n\nU Mylliem Ngap, with general consent, constituted himself her\nchampion. He called her \"Pah Syntiew,\" which means \"Lured by Flowers,\"\nfor her name and her origin were unknown. He took her to his own home\nand adopted her as his own daughter, cherishing her with fondness\nand affection, which the child fully requited.\n\nKa Pah Syntiew, as she grew up, fulfilled all the promises of her\nchildhood and developed into a woman of incomparable beauty and her\nfame went abroad throughout the country. She was also gifted and wise\nbeyond all the maidens of the neighbourhood, and was the chosen leader\nat all the Khasi dances and festivals. She taught the Khasi girls to\ndance and to sing, and it was she who instituted the Virgins' Dance,\nwhich remains popular to this day among the Khasis. Her foster-father,\nseeing she possessed so much discretion and wisdom, used to consult her\nin all his perplexities and seek her advice in all matters pertaining\nto the ruling of the village. She displayed such tact and judgement\nthat people from other villages brought their disputes to her to be\nsettled, and she was acknowledged to be wiser and more just than\nany ruler in the country, and they began to call her \"Ka Siem\"\n(the Chiefess, or the Queen).\n\nWhen she came of age, U Mylliem Ngap gave her in marriage to a man\nof prowess and worth, who is mentioned in Khasi lore as \"U Kongor\nNongjri.\" She became the mother of many sons and daughters, who were\nall noble and comely.\n\nAfter her children had grown up, Ka Pah Syntiew called them all to\nher one day and revealed to them the secret of her birth. She was\nthe daughter of U 'Lei Shillong, the mountain god, permitted by her\nfather to dwell for a period among mankind, and at last the time was\nat hand for her to return to her native element.\n\nNot long after this Ka Pah Syntiew walked away in the direction of the\ncave of Marai, and no one dared to accompany her, for it was realised\nthat her hour of departure had come. From that day she disappeared\nfrom mortal ken. Her descendants are known to this day as two of the\nleading families of Khasi chiefs, or Siems, and in common parlance\nthese two families, those of Khairim and Mylliem, are still called\n\"the Siems (the Chiefs) of Shillong,\" or \"the Siems of the god.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nV\n\nTHE FORMATION OF THE EARTH\n\n\nWhen the earth was created, it was one great plain, full of vast\nforests and smooth rivers. Then it happened that the mother of the\nthree goddesses, Ka Ding, Ka Um, and Ka Sngi, died while wandering\nabroad one day on the earth. These goddesses are Fire, Water, and\nthe Sun. It became necessary for the daughters to discover some means\nwhereby their mother's body could be put away out of their sight and\nnot be left exposed on the face of the earth.\n\nAccording to the decree, it was decided that Ka Sngi, being the\nyoungest, should perform the rites of destroying the body; so Ka Sngi\nwent out in all her strength, and put forth great heat till the rivers\nwere dried up and all the leaves of the forest and the grass withered,\nbut the body of the mother was not consumed. So Ka Sngi returned\nto her sisters and said, \"I have exhausted all my powers, but our\nmother's body still lies on the face of the earth in our sight.\"\n\nAfter this the next sister, Ka Um, undertook to perform the rites, and\nshe went forth with a great company of clouds, and poured incessant\nrain upon the earth till the rivers and pools were all flooded, but\nher mother's body was not destroyed. So Ka Um also returned to her\nsisters and said, \"I have exhausted all my powers, but the body of\nour mother still lies on the face of the earth in our sight.\"\n\nThus it remained for the elder sister, Ka Ding, to undertake to do\nthe necessary rites, and she spread forth great flames which swept\nover the forests and caused the earth to burn and to crumble till the\nvast plain lost its contour and the body of the mother was consumed.\n\nEver since then the earth has remained as the fire left it, full of\nmountains and valleys and gorges. It became a much more beautiful\nplace, and in time mankind came here from heaven to dwell.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\nTHE LEGEND OF U RAITONG, THE KHASI ORPHEUS\n\n\nA few miles to the north of Shillong, the chief town of the Province\nof Assam, there is a fertile and pleasant hill known as the Hill of\nRaitong, which is one of the most famous spots in ancient folk-lore,\nand for which is claimed the distinction of being the place where\nthe custom of suttee--wife-sacrifice of the Hindus--originated. The\nlegend runs as follows:\n\nMany ages ago there lived a great Siem (Chief) who ruled over\nlarge territories and whose sceptre swayed many tribes and clans of\npeople. As befitted such a great Siem, his consort, the Mahadei, was\na woman of great beauty: her figure was erect and lissom and all her\nmovements easy and graceful as the motion of the palms in the summer\nbreeze; her hair was long and flowing, enfolding her like a wreathing\ncloud; her teeth were even as the rims of a cowrie; her lips were red\nas the precious coral and fragrant as the flower of Lasubon; and her\nface was fair like unto the face of a goddess. Strange to relate,\nthe names of this famous royal couple have not been transmitted\nto posterity.\n\nIt came to pass that affairs of the State necessitated the absence of\nthe Siem from home for a protracted period. He appointed deputies to\ngovern the village and to control his household during the interval,\nwhile the Mahadei, who was unto him as the apple of his eye, was placed\nunder the joint guardianship of her own and his own family. When he\nhad made all satisfactory arrangements he took his departure and went\non his long journey accompanied by the good wishes of his people.\n\nAmong the subjects of the Siem was a poor beggar lad, who was looked\nupon as being half-witted, for he spent his days roaming about the\nvillage clothed in filthy rags, his head and face covered with ashes\nlike a wandering fakir. He never conversed with any of the villagers,\nbut kept muttering to himself incessantly, lamenting his own forlorn\nand friendless condition.\n\nHis name was U Raitong. Formerly he had been a happy and well-cared-for\nlad, surrounded and loved by many relatives and kindred, until a\nterrible epidemic swept through the village and carried away all\nhis family and left him orphaned and alone, without sustenance and\nwithout a relative to stand by his bedside in time of sickness or to\nperform the funeral rites over his body when he died. Overwhelmed\nby grief and sorrow, U Raitong vowed a rash vow that all the days\nof his life should be spent in mourning the death of his kindred;\nthus it was that he walked about the village lamenting to himself and\nwearing ragged clothes. His neighbours, not knowing about the vow,\nthought that sorrow had turned his head, so they treated him as an\nidiot and pitied him and gave him alms.\n\nHis condition was so wretched and his clothes so tattered that he\nbecame a proverb in the country, and to this day, when the Khasis\nwish to describe one fallen into extreme poverty and wretchedness,\nthey say, \"as poor as U Raitong.\"\n\nAt night time, however, U Raitong considered himself free from the\nobligations of his rash vow, and when he retired to his rickety cabin\non the outskirts of the village he divested himself of his rags and\narrayed himself in fine garments, and would play for hours on his\nsharati (flute), a bamboo instrument much in vogue among the Khasis\nto this day. He was a born musician, and constant practice had made\nhim an accomplished player, and never did flute give forth sweeter\nand richer music than did the sharati of U Raitong as he played by\nstealth in the hours of the night when all the village was asleep.\n\nThe melodies he composed were so enthralling that he often became\noblivious to all his surroundings and abandoned himself to the charms\nof his own subtle music. His body swayed and trembled with pure joy\nand delight as he gave forth strain after strain from his sharati;\nyet so cautious was he that none of his neighbours suspected that he\npossessed any gifts, for he feared to let it be known lest it should\ninterfere with the performance of his vow.\n\nIt happened one night that the Mahadei was restless and unable to\nsleep, and as she lay awake she heard the faint strains of the most\nsweet music wafted on the air. She imagined that it was coming from\nthe fairies who were said to inhabit certain parts of the forest,\nand she listened enraptured until the sounds ceased. When it stopped,\na feeling of great loneliness came over her, so overawing that she\ncould not summon enough courage to speak about the strange music she\nhad heard. She went about her household duties with her thoughts far\naway and longing for the night to come in the hope that the music\nwould be wafted to her again.\n\nThe following night, and for many successive nights, the Mahadei lay\nawake to listen, and was always rewarded by hearing the soft sweet\nstrains of some musical instrument floating on the air till she\nimagined the room to be full of some beautiful beings singing the\nsweetest melodies that human ears ever heard. When it ceased, as it\nalways did before daybreak, the feeling of desolation was intense, till\nher whole mind became absorbed with thoughts of the mysterious music.\n\nThe fascination grew until at last it became overpowering and she could\nno longer resist the desire to know whence the sounds proceeded. She\ncrept stealthily from her room one night, and following the direction\nof the strains, she walked through the village and was surprised to\nfind that the music emerged from the dilapidated hut of U Raitong.\n\nThe heart of the Mahadei was touched, for she thought that the fairies\nin tenderness and pity came to cheer and to comfort the poor idiot\nwith their music, and she stood there to listen. The strains which\nshe could hear but faintly in her own room now broke upon her in all\ntheir fulness and richness till her whole being was ravished by them.\n\nBefore dawn the sounds suddenly ceased, and the Mahadei retraced her\nsteps stealthily and crept back to her room without being observed by\nany one. After this she stole out of her house every night and went\nto listen to what she believed to be fairy-music outside the hut of\nU Raitong.\n\nOne night, when the power of the music was stronger than usual, the\nMahadei drew near and peeped through a crevice in the door, and to her\nastonishment, instead of the fairies she had pictured, she saw that\nit was U Raitong, the supposed idiot, who was playing on his sharati,\nbut a Raitong so changed from the one she had been accustomed to see\nabout the village that she could scarcely believe her own eyes. He\nwas well and tastefully dressed and his face was alight with joy,\nwhile his body moved with graceful motions as he swayed with rapture\nin harmony with the rhythm of his wild music. She stood spellbound, as\nmuch moved by the sight that met her eyes as she had been by the charm\nof the music, and, forgetful of her marriage vows and her duty to her\nabsent husband, she fell deeply and irrevocably in love with U Raitong.\n\nTime passed, and the Mahadei continued to visit the hut of U Raitong\nby stealth, drawn by her passionate love for him even more than by\nthe fascination of his sharati. At first U Raitong was unaware that he\nwas being spied upon, but when he discovered the Mahadei in his hut,\nhe was greatly troubled, and tried to reason with her against coming\nwith as much sternness as was becoming in one of his class to show to\none so much above him in rank. But she overruled all his scruples,\nand before long the intensity of her love for him and the beauty of\nher person awoke similar feelings in him and he fell a victim to her\nwicked and unbridled passion.\n\nThe months rolled on and the time for the return of the Siem\nwas advancing apace. People began to discuss the preparations for\ncelebrating his return, and every one evinced the most lively interest\nexcept the Mahadei. It was noticed that she, the most interested\nperson of all, appeared the most unconcerned, and people marvelled\nto see her so cold and indifferent; but one day the reason became\nclear when it was announced that a son had been born to the Mahadei\nand that her guardians had locked her up in one of the rooms of the\ncourt, pending the arrival of the Siem. She offered no resistance and\nput forward no justification, but when questioned as to the identity\nof her child's father she remained resolutely silent.\n\nWhen the Siem arrived and heard of his wife's infidelity he was bowed\ndown with shame and grief, and vowed that he would enforce the extreme\npenalty of the law on the man who had sullied her honour, but neither\npersuasion nor coercion could extract from the Mahadei his name.\n\nIt was necessary for the well-being of the State, as well as for the\nsatisfaction of the Siem, that the culprit should be found; so the\nSiem sent a mandate throughout his territory calling upon all the\nmale population, on penalty of death, to attend a great State Durbar,\nwhen the Siem and his ministers would sit in judgement to discover\nthe father of the child of the faithless Mahadei.\n\nNever in the history of Durbars was seen such a multitude gathered\ntogether as was seen on that day when all the men, both young and\nold, appeared before the Siem to pass through the test laid down by\nhim. When all had assembled, the Siem ordered a mat to be brought\nand placed in the centre and the babe laid upon it; after which he\ncommanded every man to walk round the mat in procession and, as he\npassed, to offer a plantain to the child, inasmuch as it was believed\nthat the instincts of the babe would lead him to accept a plantain\nfrom the hand of his own father and from no other.\n\nThe long procession filed past one by one, but the babe gave no sign,\nand the Siem and his ministers were baffled and perplexed. They\ndemanded to know what man had absented himself, but when the roll\nwas called the number was complete. Some one in the throng shouted\nthe name of U Raitong, at which many laughed, for no one deemed him\nto be sane; other voices said mockingly, \"Send for him\"; others said\n\"Why trouble about such a witless creature? He is but as a dog or a\nrat.\" Thus the Durbar was divided, but the ministers, unwilling to\npass over even the most hapless, decided to send for him and to put\nhim through the test like the other men.\n\nWhen the Siem's messengers arrived at the hut they found U Raitong\njust as usual, dressed in filthy rags and muttering to himself,\nhis face covered with ashes. He arose immediately and followed the\nmen to the place of Durbar, and as he came people pitied him, for he\nlooked so sad and forlorn and defenceless that it seemed a shame to\nput such an one through the test. A plantain was put into his hand\nand he was told to walk past the mat. As soon as the babe saw him he\nbegan to crow with delight and held out his hands for the plantain,\nbut he took no notice of the well-dressed people who crowded round.\n\nThere was a loud commotion when the secret was discovered, and the\nSiem looked ashamed and humiliated to find that one so unseemly and\npoor was proved to be the lover of his beautiful wife. The assembly\nwere awed at the spectacle, and many of them raised their voices in\nthanksgiving to the deity whom they considered to have directed the\ncourse of events and brought the guilty to judgement.\n\nThe Siem commanded his ministers to pronounce judgement, and they with\none accord proclaimed that he should be burned to death, without the\nperformance of any rites and that no hand should gather his bones for\nburial. In this decision all the throng acquiesced, for such was the\nlaw and the decree.\n\nU Raitong received the verdict with indifference as one who had\nlong known and become reconciled to his fate, but he asked one boon,\nand that was permission to build his own pyre and play a dirge for\nhimself. The Siem and the people were astonished to hear him speak in\nclear tones instead of the blubbering manner in which he had always\nbeen known to speak. Nobody raised an objection to his request, so\nhe received permission to build his own pyre and to play his own dirge.\n\nAccordingly on the morrow U Raitong arose early and gathered a great\npile of dry firewood and laid it carefully till the pyre was larger\nthan the pyres built for the cremation of Siems and the great ones\nof the land. After finishing the pyre he returned to his lonely hut\nand divested himself of his filthy rags and arrayed himself in the\nfine garments which he used to wear in the hours of the night when he\nabandoned himself to music; he then took his sharati in his hand and\nsallied forth to his terrible doom. As he marched towards the pyre\nhe played on his sharati, and the sound of his dirge was carried by\nthe air to every dwelling in the village, and so beautiful was it and\nso enchanting, so full of wild pathos and woe, that it stirred every\nheart. People flocked after him, wondering at the changed appearance\nof U Raitong and fascinated by the marvellous and mysterious music such\nas they had never before heard, which arrested and charmed every ear.\n\nWhen the procession reached the pyre, U Raitong stooped and lighted\nthe dry logs without a shudder or a delay. Then once more he began\nto play on his sharati and marched three times around the pyre, and\nas he marched he played such doleful and mournful melodies that his\nhearers raised their voices in a loud wail in sympathy, so that the\nwailing and the mourning at the pyre of the unfortunate U Raitong was\nmore sincere and impressive than the mourning made for the greatest\nmen in the country.\n\nAt the end of his third round U Raitong suddenly stopped his music,\nplanted his sharati point downward in the earth, and leaped upon the\nburning pyre and perished.\n\nWhile these events were taking place outside, the Mahadei remained\na close prisoner in her room, and no whisper of what was transpiring\nwas allowed to reach her. But her heart was heavy with apprehension\nfor her lover, and when she heard the notes of a sharati she knew\nit could be none other than U Raitong, and that the secret had been\ndiscovered and that he was being sent to his doom.\n\nAs before, the notes of the sharati seemed to call her irresistibly,\nand with almost superhuman strength she burst open the door of her\nprison. Great as was her excitement and her desire to get away, she\ntook precautions to cover her escape. Seeing a string of cowries with\nwhich her child had been playing, she hastily fastened them to the\nfeet of a kitten that was in the room, so that whenever the kitten\nmoved the noise of the cowries jingling on the floor of the room\nwould lead those outside to think that it was the Mahadei herself\nstill moving about; then she sped forth to the hill in the direction\nof the sound of the sharati and the wailing. When she arrived at\nthe pyre, U Raitong had just taken his fatal leap. She pushed her\nway resolutely through the dense and wailing crowd, and before any\none could anticipate her action she too had leaped into the flaming\nfurnace to die by the side of her lover.\n\nThe Siem alone of all the people in the village had withstood the\nfascination of the dirge. He sat in his chamber morose and outraged,\nbrooding on his calamity. Just when the Mahadei was leaping into the\nflames a strange thing happened in the Siem's chamber--the head-cloth\n(tapmoh) of his wife was blown in a mysterious manner so that it fell\nat his feet although there was not enough breeze to cause a leaf to\nrustle. When the Siem saw it he said, \"By this token my wife must be\ndead.\" Still hearing sounds coming from her room, he tried to take\nno heed of the omen. The foreboding, however, grew so strong that he\ngot up to investigate, and when he opened the door of the room where\nthe Mahadei had been imprisoned he found it empty, save for a kitten\nwith a string of cowries fastened to its feet.\n\nHe knew instinctively whither she had gone, and in the hope of averting\nfurther scandal he hurried in her wake towards the pyre on the hill,\nbut he was too late. When he arrived on the scene he found only her\ncharred remains.\n\nThe news of the unparalleled devotion of the Mahadei to her lover\nspread abroad throughout the land and stirred the minds of men and\nwomen in all countries. The chaste wives of India, when they heard\nof it, said one to another, \"We must not allow the unholy passion\nof an unchaste woman to become more famous than the sacred love of\nholy matrimony. Henceforth we will offer our bodies on the altar\nof death, on the pyre of our husbands, to prove our devotion and\nfidelity.\" Thus originated the custom of suttee (wife-sacrifice)\nin many parts of India.\n\nThe Khasis were so impressed by the suitability of the sharati to\nexpress sorrow and grief that they have adopted that instrument ever\nsince to play their dirges at times of cremation.\n\nThe sharati of U Raitong, which he planted in the earth as he was\nabout to leap to his doom, took root, and a clump of bamboos grew from\nit, distinguishable from all other bamboos by having their branches\nforking downwards. It is commonly maintained to this day that there\nare clumps of bamboos forking downwards to be found in plenty on the\nHill of Raitong.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nVII\n\nTHE TIGER AND THE MONKEYS\n\n\nAt the beginning of time the animals were free and living wild and\nunruly lives, but there were so many disputes and quarrels that\nthey convened a council to choose a king to reign over them. With\none accord they nominated the tiger to be king, not for any special\nwisdom or merit which he possessed, but because of his great strength,\nby which he would be able to subdue the turbulent beasts.\n\nAlthough he possessed greater strength than any of his kindred, the\ntiger was more ignorant of the ways and habits of his subjects than\nany of the animals. He was so self-absorbed that he never troubled\nhimself to study the ways of others, and this caused him to act very\nfoolishly at times and to make himself ridiculous, for the animals were\ntempted to take advantage of his great ignorance and to play tricks\nupon him whenever they thought they could do so undetected. This tale\nrelates how the monkeys played a cunning trick on their king which\ncaused mortal enmity to spring up between him and them for ever.\n\nOne hot day the tiger walked abroad to take an airing, but, the\nsun being so hot, he turned aside to shelter under some leafy\ntrees and there he fell asleep. Presently he awoke, and on awaking\nhe heard coming from overhead very melodious singing to which he\nlistened enraptured. It was the little insect, Shalymmen, chirping\non a leaf, but she was so small the tiger could not see her, and,\nbeing so ignorant, he had no idea whose voice it was. He peered to\nthe branches right and left trying to discover the singer, but he\nonly saw a company of monkeys at play in the trees, so he began to\nquestion them who it was that was singing above him.\n\nNow the monkeys and all the jungle animals were perfectly familiar\nwith the singing of Shalymmen and recognised the voice from afar. They\nthought it very contemptible in the king to be more ignorant than\nthemselves, and one audacious young monkey, in a spirit of mischief,\nanswered that the singer was their youngest sister.\n\nThe other monkeys were perturbed when they heard their brother giving\nsuch an impudent answer, thinking that the tiger would be offended\nand would punish them with his great strength. They were preparing\nto run away when, to their amazement, they heard the tiger replying\nto their rash young brother in a gentle voice and with most affable\nmanners and saying to him, \"You are my brother-in-law. Your sister\nhas the most beautiful voice in the jungle; I will make her my wife.\"\n\nIf the predicament of the monkeys was bad at the beginning, it\nwas doubly so now, for they felt that, things having taken such an\nunexpected turn, it would be impossible to conceal from the knowledge\nof the tiger their brother's offence. They determined, however, not to\ndesert the young culprit, and if possible to try and rescue him, so\nthey approached the tiger, and with much seeming courtesy and honour\nthey put forward the excuse that their sister was very young and not\nyet of marriageable age. This excuse made no impression on the king,\nfor he said:\n\n\"So much the better. As she is young, I can mould her to my own ways,\nand bring her up according to my own views, which would not be so\neasy if she were fully matured.\"\n\nTo which the monkeys replied, \"Our sister is not amenable to\ninstruction. She is indolent and fond of her own will.\"\n\nThe tiger, however, was so lovesick that no argument had weight\nwith him. He thought the brothers were severe in their judgement,\nand expressed his conviction that she could not be as slothful as\nthey said, for she was forgoing her midday repose for the sake of\nmaking music to cheer the animals. He ordered them to come down from\nthe trees and to lead their sister to him.\n\nAfter this the monkeys feared to argue further, so they pretended\nto agree to his commands; but they craved a boon from him, and asked\nfor a little time to make preparations, as it would not be becoming\nfor one of such a high degree to join himself with a poor family like\ntheirs without their showing him adequate honour such as was due to his\nrank. This request the tiger granted, and it was arranged between them\nthat he was to come and claim his bride at the time of the full moon,\na week from that day, and so the tiger departed with evident goodwill.\n\nAs soon as they found themselves alone the monkeys began to think\nout some plans by which they could meet the situation and escape\nexposure. They decided to call together a council of the whole tribe\nof monkeys, for they well foresaw that the whole tribe would be in\nperil if the tiger found out what they had done. So the monkeys came\nto hold a council, and in that council it was decided that they must\ncontinue to keep up the duplicity begun, and in order to hoodwink\nthe tiger still further they planned to make a clay image after the\nfashion of a woman and to present her to the tiger as his bride. So\nthey made preparations for a great feast, but they did not invite\nanybody except their own tribe to attend.\n\nDuring the succeeding days the monkeys busied themselves collecting\nclay and moulding it into an image, which they propped against a\ntree. They were unable to make the head of one piece with the body,\nso they moulded the head separately, and when it was finished they\nplaced it loosely on the body of the image. They then proceeded\nto dress the image in all the finery they could procure, and they\ncarefully covered the head and face with a veil so as to hide it from\nthe eyes of the bridegroom.\n\nThe night of the full moon arrived, and all the monkey family were\nassembled at the appointed place, where with much clatter and seeming\njoy they awaited the arrival of the tiger, though they were really\nvery anxious about the consequences. Everything was in readiness,\nand the place laid out with many kinds of food, so as to lead the\ntiger to think that they were sincere in their welcome.\n\nHe came early, very gorgeously arrayed, and carrying over his shoulder\na net full of betel nut and pan leaves, and was received with loud\nacclamation by his prospective relatives. But the tiger hardly deigned\nto give them a greeting, so impatient was he to meet his bride, and\nhe demanded to be taken to her immediately. The monkeys led him with\ngreat ceremony to the clay image, but their hearts were beating fast\nwith fear lest he should discover their fraud.\n\nWhen they reached the image they said, \"This is our sister. Take her\nand may she be worthy of the great honour you have conferred upon\nher.\" Thereupon they retired to a safe distance.\n\nWhen the tiger saw how finely dressed she was and how modestly she\nhad veiled herself, he felt a little timid, for she was so much finer\nthan the little grey monkey he had been picturing to himself. He came\nup to her and said deferentially, as he slung the net of betel nut\nround her neck:\n\n\"You are the chief person at this feast, take the pan and the betel\nnut and divide them among the company according to custom.\"\n\nThe bride, however, remained motionless and mute, seeing which, the\ntiger asked the monkeys in a displeased voice, \"Why doth not your\nsister answer me nor obey my commands?\"\n\n\"She is very young,\" they replied, \"perhaps she has fallen asleep\nwhile waiting for you; pull the string of the net and she will awaken.\"\n\nUpon this the tiger gave the string a sharp tug, and the loose\nhead of the image rolled on to the floor, whereupon the monkeys,\nuttering the most piercing shrieks, pounced upon the tiger in a mob,\ndeclaring that he had killed their sister, and that he had only made\na pretence of marrying her in order to get hold of her to kill her. A\nfierce and bloody fight ensued in which the tiger was nearly killed,\nand ever since then the tiger has feared the monkeys, and they are the\nonly animals in the jungle that dare challenge him to fight. He never\ndiscovered their duplicity, but he learned one very effective lesson,\nfor he has never committed the indiscretion of proposing marriage\nwith an unknown bride since that unfortunate affair with the monkeys;\nwhile the monkeys are rejoicing in the cunning by which they saved\ntheir brother and their tribe from punishment.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nVIII\n\nTHE LEGEND OF THE IEI TREE\n\n\nSome eight or ten miles to the west of the town of Shillong is seen a\nprominent hill range, a place much renowned in Khasi folk-lore. It is\nknown as the Mountain of the Iei Tree, and is a very romantic spot even\nin the present day, although divested of its former reputed glory. Its\nslopes are studded with thriving villages and cultivated fields, which\nappear from a distance like a bit of British landscape. At its foot the\nriver Umiam (the wailing river) curves its dolorous way to the plains,\nat times leaping wildly over rugged precipices, scattering its spray\nin the sunshine, at other times lying almost motionless in the bosom\nof a valley, reflecting the beauty of myriad trees in its clear depths.\n\nAccording to tradition, this hill, and the land around it, was the\nmost fertile land in the world; broad acres lay under cultivation\nand its forests yielded the largest and most valuable timber. It was\nalso famous for the grandeur of its scenery; fairies and nymphs were\nsaid to have their haunts in its green glades, birds of lovely hues\nlived there and made their nests amid flowers of sweetest scent;\nthere happy maidens loved to roam, and there young lovers met and\nplighted their troth. Such was the Mountain of the Iei Tree in the\ndays of the Ancients.\n\nOn the summit of the mountain there grew a tree of fabulous\ndimensions--the Iei Tree--which dwarfed even the largest trees in\nforests. It was of a species unique, such as mankind had never known;\nits thick outspreading branches were so clustered with leaves that\nthe light of the sun could not penetrate through and the earth beneath\nits shadow became barren and unfruitful.\n\nThe fame of the tree spread abroad and people from many lands came\nto see it, but there were none who dared to cut a twig or to scratch\nits bark, as it was commonly believed that the tree was the abode of\nsome unknown and powerful god, to offend whom would bring destruction.\n\nThe Iei Tree continued to grow through many ages, and year by year\nits malevolent shadow spread further and further, and the area of\nthe barren land increased season by season until at last it became\na serious menace to the world, and the very existence of mankind was\nat stake. People could no longer live on the slopes of the mountain,\ncultivation became impossible for many miles around, and the one-time\nprosperous families had to wander abroad as homeless fugitives, fleeing\nfrom the ever-pursuing, ever-threatening shadow. The pathways and\npleasant nooks whence of old had echoed the merry voices and laughter\nof children were now become the lurking-places of dragons and the\nprowling-grounds of savage beasts whither no man ventured to roam.\n\nA Durbar of all mankind was summoned to consider the situation and\nto devise some plan to save the world from its impending doom. After\nlong and solemn deliberations, it was resolved to mobilise a party of\nthe bravest and most skilled wood-cutters to go into the mountain to\nhew down the Iei Tree so as to admit the sunlight once more to the\nearth. In the course of time the wood-cutters came and entered the\nmountain, defying all danger and risking the possible wrath of the\nunknown god whom they believed to haunt the tree.\n\nWhen they reached the Iei Tree, they plied their axes with skill and\ntoiled vigorously till night came on, but the wood was so hard and\nso tough they only succeeded in cutting a little below the bark that\nday. They consoled themselves, however, by reflecting that so far\nthere had appeared no signs of anger from the unknown god forasmuch\nas no misfortunes had befallen them; so they retired to rest, sanguine\nthat by perseverance their gigantic task would in time be accomplished.\n\nNext morning they returned early to their work, but, to their\nconsternation, they saw that the incisions made by them the day before\nat the cost of so much labour were obliterated, leaving the trunk of\nthe tree as solid and unscathed as before. Many of the wood-cutters\nwere so superstitious that they feared to approach the tree again, for\nthey were now confirmed in their fear that the place was enchanted; but\nwhen their more stoical comrades reminded them of the great peril in\nwhich mankind stood, they plucked up courage, and for another day they\ntoiled laboriously, only to find their work obliterated next morning.\n\nAs no personal harm had befallen any of them, the wood-cutters\ndetermined to continue their attack, but no matter how patiently they\nworked during the day, the tree would be healed up in the night. They\ngrew more and more mystified and discouraged, and the strain of living\nin that weird region was becoming intolerable. At last they decided\nto return to their fellow-men, preferring to endure the foreseen doom\nof the shadowed world rather than face the unknown and mysterious\nterrors of the land of the Iei Tree.\n\nAs they sat, gloomy and disconsolate, brooding on their defeat,\na little grey bird--Ka Phreit, the Khasi wren--came, chirruping\nand twittering, close to the wood-cutters, and she began to talk\nto them, urging them to keep up their courage, as she had come to\nhelp them. Now, in spite of their spiritless condition, the woodsmen\ncould not help laughing to hear Ka Phreit--the smallest of all the\nbirds--so impudently offering to help them--the picked wood-cutters of\nthe world--to cut down a tree. But when the wren saw them laughing,\nshe chirruped and twittered still louder, and drew still nearer,\nand with great excitement she said, \"No doubt you are great and wise,\nfor you have been chosen for a great task. You are unable to perform\nit, yet when I come to offer assistance, you laugh at me. It is true\nthat I am the smallest of all the birds, but that has not hindered me\nfrom learning the secrets of this forest, which you must also learn\nbefore you can cut down the Iei Tree.\"\n\nOn hearing the sage words of the wren, the woodmen felt ashamed for\nhaving laughed at her, seeing that she meant nothing but goodwill\ntowards them; so they got up and saluted her, and begged her\npardon, and asked her to teach them the secret of the forest. Thus\nmollified, Ka Phreit informed them that the tree was not healed by\nany supernatural agency as they had supposed, but that it was U Khla,\nthe big tiger, who came every night to lick the tree and to heal it,\nfor he did not want it to be cut down, as its shadow made it possible\nfor him to prowl for prey in safety.\n\nThis news cheered the wood-cutters' hearts and they lost no time\nin beginning another attack on the Iei Tree, and when night fell,\ninstead of carrying their axes home as before, they planted them in\nthe tree edge outward.\n\nWhen the tiger came to lick the tree that night (all unconscious that\nthe wren had disclosed the secret to the men), the sharp blades cut\nhis tongue, and he fled in terror, bleeding and howling, and never\nmore returned to hinder the work of the wood-cutters, who, now that\nthey were able to carry on their task undisturbed, succeeded in time\nin cutting down the Iei Tree.\n\nThus Ka Phreit, the smallest of all the birds, helped mankind to\nbring back sunshine and prosperity to the world.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIX\n\nHUNTING THE STAG LAPALANG\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived with its dam on the Plains of Sylhet\na young deer whose fame has come down through the ages in Khasi\nfolk-lore. The story of the Stag Lapalang, as he was called, continues\nto fascinate generation after generation of Khasi youths, and the\nmerry cowboys, as they sit in groups on the wild hill-sides watching\ntheir flocks, love to relate the oft-told tale and to describe what\nthey consider the most famous hunt in history.\n\nThe Stag Lapalang was the noblest young animal of his race that\nhad ever been seen in the forest and was the pride of his mother's\nheart. She watched over him with a love not surpassed by the love of\na human mother, keeping him jealously at her side, guarding him from\nall harm.\n\nAs he grew older the young stag, conscious of his own matchless grace\nand splendid strength, began to feel dissatisfied with the narrow\nconfines and limited scope of the forest where they lived and to\nweary of his mother's constant warnings and counsels. He longed to\nexplore the world and to put his mettle to the test.\n\nHis mother had been very indulgent to him all his life and had allowed\nhim to have much of his own way, so there was no restraining him when\nhe expressed his determination to go up to the Khasi Hills to seek\nbegonia leaves to eat. His mother entreated and warned him, but all\nin vain. He insisted on going, and she watched him sorrowfully as\nwith stately strides and lifted head he went away from his forest home.\n\nMatters went well with the Stag Lapalang at first; he found on the\nhills plenty of begonia leaves and delicious grass to eat, and he\nrevelled in the freedom of the cool heights. But one day he was seen\nby some village boys, who immediately gave the alarm, and men soon\nhurried to the chase: the hunting-cry rang from village to village\nand echoed from crag to crag. The hunting instincts of the Khasis\nwere roused and men poured forth from every village and hamlet. Oxen\nwere forgotten at the plough; loads were thrown down and scattered;\nnothing mattered for the moment but the wild exciting chase over\nhill and valley. Louder sounded the hunting cry, farther it echoed\nfrom crag to crag, still wilder grew the chase. From hill to hill\nand from glen to glen came the hunters, with arrows and spears and\nstaves and swords, hot in pursuit of the Stag Lapalang. He was swift,\nhe was young, he was strong--for days he eluded his pursuers and kept\nthem at bay; but he was only one unarmed creature against a thousand\narmed men. His fall was inevitable, and one day on the slopes of the\nShillong mountain he was surrounded, and after a brave and desperate\nstruggle for his life, the noble young animal died with a thousand\narrows quivering in his body.\n\nThe lonely mother on the Plains of Sylhet became uneasy at the delay\nof the return of the Stag Lapalang, and when she heard the echoes\nof the hunting-cry from the hills her anxiety became more than she\ncould endure. Full of dread misgivings, she set out in quest of her\nwanderer, but when she reached the Khasi hills, she was told that\nhe had been hunted to death on the slopes of Shillong, and the news\nbroke her heart.\n\nStaggering under the weight of her sorrow, she traversed the rugged\npaths through the wildwoods, seeking her dead offspring, and as she\nwent her loud heartrending cries were heard throughout the country,\narresting every ear. Women, sitting on their hearths, heard it and\nswooned from the pain of it, and the children hid their faces in\ndismay; men at work in the fields heard it and bowed their heads and\nwrithed with the anguish of it. Not a shout was raised for a signal\nat sight of that stricken mother, not a hand was lifted to molest her,\nand when the huntsmen on the slopes of Shillong heard that bitter cry\ntheir shouts of triumph froze upon their lips, and they broke their\narrows in shivers.\n\nNever before was heard a lamentation so mournful, so plaintive, so full\nof sorrow and anguish and misery, as the lament of the mother of the\nStag Lapalang as she sought him in death on the slopes of Shillong. The\nAncient Khasis were so impressed by this demonstration of deep love and\ndevotion that they felt their own manner of mourning for their dead\nto be very inferior and orderless, and without meaning. Henceforth\nthey resolved that they also would mourn their departed ones in this\ndevotional way, and many of the formulas used in Khasi lamentations\nin the present day are those attributed to the mother of the Stag\nLapalang when she found him hunted to death on the slopes of Shillong\nhundreds and hundreds of years ago.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nX\n\nTHE GODDESSES KA NGOT AND KA IAM\n\n(A LEGEND OF SHILLONG PEAK)\n\n\nKa Iam and Ka Ngot, the twin daughters of the god of Shillong, were\ntwo very beautiful beings; they were lively and frolicsome, and were\nindulged and given much freedom by the family. Like all twins they\nwere never happy if long separated. One day the two climbed to the\ntop of the Shillong mountain to survey the country. In the distance\nthey saw the woody plains of Sylhet, and they playfully challenged\none another to run a race to see who would reach the plains first.\n\nKa Ngot was more retiring and timid than her sister, and was half\nafraid to begin the race; Ka Iam, on the other hand, was venturesome\nand fearless, and had been called Ka Iam because of her noisy and\nturbulent disposition. Before the race she spoke very confidently of\nher own victory, and teased her sister on account of her timidity.\n\nAfter a little preparation for the journey the twins transformed\nthemselves into two rivers and started to run their race. Ka Ngot,\nsearching for smooth and easy places, meandered slowly, taking long\ncircuits, and came in time to Sylhet; but not finding her sister there,\nshe went forward to Chhatak, and on slowly towards Dewara. Seeing\nno sign yet of her sister, she became very anxious and turned back\nto seek her; and, in turning, she took a long curve which looked in\nthe brilliant sunshine like a curved silver chain, and the Khasis\nliving on the hill-tops, when they saw it, exclaimed with wonder:\n\"Rupatylli, Rupatylli!\" (A silver necklace, a silver necklace!) and\nto this day that part of the river is known as \"Rupatylli.\"\n\nKa Iam, full of vigour and ambition, did not linger to look for easy\npassages, but with a noisy rush she plunged straight in the direction\nof Shella, the shortest cut she could find. She soon found, however,\nthat the road she had chosen was far more difficult to travel than\nshe had anticipated. Large rocks impeded her path at many points,\nand she was obliged to spend much time in boring her way through; but\nshe pitted her young strength against all obstacles, and in time she\nreached Shella and came in view of the plains, where, to her chagrin,\nshe saw that her sister had reached the goal before her, and was coming\nback leisurely to meet her. It was a great humiliation, for she had\nboasted of her victory before the race began, but, hoping to conceal\nher defeat from the world, she divided herself into five streams,\nand in that way entered the plains, and joined her sister. The rivers\nare called after the two goddesses to this day, and are known as\n\"Ka Um Ngot\" and \"Ka Um Iam\" (the river Ngot and the river Iam).\n\nEver since Ka Ngot won the great race she has been recognised as the\ngreater of the two twins, and more reverence has been paid to her as\na goddess. Even in the present day there are many Khasis and Syntengs\nwho will not venture to cross the \"Um Ngot\" without first sacrificing\nto the goddess; and when, on their journeys, they happen to catch a\nglimpse of its waters, they salute and give a greeting of \"Khublei\"\nto the goddess Ka Ngot who won the great race.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXI\n\nU BISKUROM\n\n\nIn the beginning of time mankind were very ignorant and did their\nwork with great trouble and labour, for they had no tools and did not\nunderstand the way to make them. The Great God saw their difficulty\nfrom heaven, and He sent one of the heavenly beings down to the earth,\nin the likeness of a young man, to teach them. The name of this young\nman was U Biskurom. He was very noble to look at, and none of the sons\nof mankind could compare with him; he was also very gentle and good.\n\nHe taught mankind many useful crafts. From him they learned to know\nthe value of metals and the way to smelt iron and to make tools, but\nmankind were very slow to learn, and liked better to muddle in their\nown old way than to follow the directions given them by U Biskurom,\nso he had to stay such a long time on the earth that he forgot the\nway back to heaven. He was, however, so patient and painstaking that\nat last they learned to make good tools and to use them.\n\nSeeing that U Biskurom excelled them in finishing his instruments, and\nthat he could do double their work in a day, mankind took advantage\nof his gentleness. They used him to save trouble to themselves, and\noften demanded work from him that it was impossible for him to do,\nand when he failed to satisfy them they grew angry and abusive.\n\nOne day they made a clay image and called upon U Biskurom to make it\nalive; when he told them that he had not learnt how to produce life,\nthey abused him and threatened to imprison him until he complied\nwith their request. When U Biskurom saw that they would not listen to\nreason, he told them that if they wanted him to impart life to their\nimages they must let him go back to heaven to gain the necessary\nknowledge. Upon this mankind took counsel together what to do. Some\nfeared that if they let him go away he would never return. Others (the\nmajority, however) thought that as the knowledge of how to impart life\nwould be so valuable, it was worth risking a good deal to obtain it;\nso mankind decided to release U Biskurom.\n\nAs he had forgotten the road along which he came to the earth, it was\nnecessary for U Biskurom to invent some means whereby he could go up\nto heaven; so he told mankind to twine a long piece of string and to\nmake a strong kite on which he could ascend to the sky. So mankind\ntwined a long string and made a strong kite, and U Biskurom rode upon\nit to the sky. When they said, \"Perhaps if we let you go you will\nnot come back,\" he told them not to let go of the string, so that if\nhe was not allowed to come back, he could write the knowledge on the\nkite and send it down to them. This satisfied them and they let him go.\n\nWhen U Biskurom reached heaven the Great God told him that he could not\ngo back to the earth because He had seen how mankind had ill-treated\nhim, and because of their ingratitude and their unholy ambition to\nimpart life. So U Biskurom wrote upon the kite and sent it down to\nthe earth.\n\nWhen mankind saw the kite descending a great throng came together to\nread the directions for imparting life, but to their chagrin there\nwas not one among them able to decipher the writing. They consulted\ntogether what to do, for they were very angry with U Biskurom, and\nthey decided to send a great shout to heaven, which would cause such\na volley that the concussion would kill U Biskurom.\n\nU Biskurom laughed when he saw their folly, and in order to make them\nstill more foolish, he caused some drops of blood to fall down from\nheaven, and when mankind saw these drops of blood they concluded that\nhe had been killed by the force of their great shout.\n\nBecause of their ingratitude and their uplifted pride mankind have\nremained in great ignorance, and all the knowledge they possess is\nvery imperfect and gained at great labour and expense.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXII\n\nU THLEN, THE SNAKE-VAMPIRE\n\n\nU Thlen is one of the legendary Khasi gods, whose worship is limited to\na few clans and families. From participation in it all right-thinking\nKhasis recoil with loathing and horror, inasmuch as it involves\nthe perpetration of crimes, for this god can only be propitiated by\nofferings of human sacrifices, with many revolting and barbaric rites.\n\nThe clans who are reputed to be the devotees and worshippers of the\nThlen are regarded with aversion and fear throughout the country, and\nto them are attributed many kinds of atrocities, such as the kidnapping\nof children, murders and attempted murders, and many are the tales of\nhair-breadth escapes from the clutches of these miscreants, who are\nknown as Nongshohnohs. Within quite recent times murders have been\ncommitted which are still shrouded in mystery, but which are said\nto have indications that the victims were killed for the purpose of\nThlen sacrifice.\n\nThe following folk-tale purports to give an account of the origin\nand propagation of U Thlen, the most remorseless and cruel of all\nthe Khasi deities.\n\nAccording to tradition the Hima (state) of Cherra was, in olden times,\nthe haunt of many famous Bleis (gods) who dominated the lives of\nmen. These deities were said to dwell in certain localities, which\nin consequence came to be recognised as sacred places, and frequently\nto be called after the names of the Bleis. Foremost among these gods\nwas U Mawlong Siem, and the hill where he was supposed to dwell is\ncalled after his name to the present day, and the inhabitants of\ncertain villages still offer sacrifices to him.\n\nIn common with mankind, U Mawlong Siem is described as having a\nfamily, who, also in common with mankind, took pleasure in dancing\nand festivity. It is said that people sometimes hear the sound of\nrevelry and the beating of drums within the mountain, supposed to\nbe the drums of U Mawlong Siem beaten to the accompaniment of the\ndancing of his children, the sound of which invariably portends the\ndeath of a Siem or some great personage.\n\nThe only one of his family whose name and history have been\ntransmitted was a daughter called Ka Kma Kharai, which signifies one\nthat roams about in trenches or hidden nooks. She was well known in\nthe Blei-world, and she possessed the power of assuming whatever form\nshe pleased. She often assumed the form of a woman and mingled with\nmankind without anybody suspecting her identity. Many of the Bleis\nsought her in marriage, but U Mawlong Siem, her father, would never\ngive his consent, lest his prestige be lowered among the Bleis.\n\nThere was one suitor whom Ka Kma Kharai specially favoured. He was\nthe god of Umwai, but her father forbade the union so sternly as\nto dispel all the hopes of the lovers. This so angered the young\ngoddess that henceforth she rebelled openly against her father, and\nby way of retaliation she encouraged the attentions of strange and\nundesirable lovers.\n\nWhen it was discovered that she was with child, she fled from her home,\nfearing the wrath of her father, and put herself under the protection\nof her maternal uncle, who lived in the Pomdoloi cave, and was one\nof the famous dragons, or Yak Jakors of the country. In this cave a\nson was born to her, who proved to be a monster of hideous aspect,\nhaving the form of a snake and the characteristics of a vampire,\nwho could be appeased only when fed with human blood. This monster\nthey called U Thlen.\n\nUnlike his mother, U Thlen could not transform himself into any\nlikeness but that of a snake, but he had power to diminish or to\nenlarge his size at will. Sometimes he appeared so small as to be\nno bigger than a string of fine thread, at other times he expanded\nhimself to such dimensions that he could swallow a man bodily.\n\nIn those days there was much intercourse between the Bleis and\nmankind. The latter were privileged to attend the Iew-blei--the fair of\nthe Bleis--at Lynghingkhongkhen, the way to which passed the Pomdoloi\ncave, and many unwary and unprotected travellers fell a prey to the\ngreed of U Thlen and his associates.\n\nThe commonest mode by which these poor unfortunates were lured to their\ndoom was through the blandishments of Ka Kma Kharai, who approached\nthem in the form of a woman merchant, and dazzled them with the\nbrilliancy of the jewelry she offered for sale. She refrained from\nkilling her captives on occasions, but induced them by promises of\nriches and immunity to pledge themselves to the services of U Thlen,\nher son. To such as these she gave a magic ring, known in ancient lore\nas the Yngkuid Ring (Sati Yngkuid) which was believed to possess magic\nthat enabled the owners of the ring to obtain all the desires of their\nhearts, but this magic was dormant until the owners fulfilled their\nobligations to U Thlen and brought him human victims to feed upon.\n\nThe method by which U Yak Jakor captured his victims was to waylay\nlonely travellers and to club them to death. U Thlen himself, when\nhe grew old enough, also hunted men to death, so that between the\nthree murderers the ravages made upon mankind were becoming grievous\nand intolerable.\n\nMankind sought divinations and offered sacrifices to the gods for the\ncessation of these atrocities, upon which a Durbar of the Bleis was\ncalled. U Mawlong Siem, who was a powerful Blei and a blood-relation\nof the murderers, overruled the Durbar, declaring that no authority\ncould deprive the Bleis, or the demons, of any power they possessed,\nbe it for good or for evil; but to mitigate the distress of mankind\na decree was issued, restricting the number of people to be devoured\nto half the number of captives. If U Thlen captured two victims, one\nwas to be released, if he captured ten, five were to be released. It\ntranspired, however, that this decree helped but little to allay the\nsufferings of mankind, for murders continued at an appalling rate.\n\nMankind again sought divination and took counsel together, and it was\nmade evident that the only one who could successfully help them was U\nSuidnoh (the fleeting demon), an erratic and insignificant being who\nhaunted the forest of Lait-rngew to the north of Cherra. The Khasis\nhitherto had never recognised him as worthy of homage, but they went\nto offer him sacrifices then, according to the divinations. U Suidnoh\nvolunteered to rescue them, but affirmed that the Snake could never be\novercome without the sanction of a Blei, and inasmuch as the Bleis of\nthe Cherra Hima had already refused their aid, he urged them to go and\nsacrifice to U 'Lei Shillong--the god of the Shillong mountain--and to\ninvoke his aid and win his favour. So mankind offered sacrifices to U\n'Lei Shillong, and received his sanction to wage war against U Thlen.\n\nU Suidnoh, equipped in all his strength, went forth to Pomdoloi and\nordered the Khasis to bring to him many fat pigs and goats. These\nhe killed and carried regularly to feed the Thlen in the cave, and\nthis was the manner in which he made his offering. He bored a large\nhole in a rock roofing the cave, so that the carcases might be passed\ndown without being seen by U Thlen, and so he would not discover that\nthey were not human bodies. He assumed the voice and manner of a Thlen\nworshipper and called out: \"My uncle, I have brought my tribute, open\nyour mouth that I may feed you.\" U Thlen is described as being slothful\nand sleepy, never rousing himself except to seek food. When he heard\nthe call from above he would shake himself and expand to a great size,\nand open wide his jaws, into which the meat offering was thrust. In\nthis way mankind had respite for a time, and the hunting of men ceased.\n\nIt was evident, however, that they must resort to some other measures,\nfor it was impossible to continue to keep up the supply of fat\nanimals. The Khasis began to grumble at the extravagant proceedings of\nU Suidnoh, but he always replied to their complaints with the words,\n\"Koit, koit,\" signifying that all was well. After a time he told them\nto hire the services of U Ramhah, the giant, to assist him in his\nfinal struggle against the vampire. When U Ramhah came he bade him\nbuild a smelting-house near the cave, and to make a pair of giant\ntongs, and such was the strength of U Ramhah that it only took him\none day to build the smelting-house and to make the giant tongs. Next\nday U Suidnoh told him to heat a large piece of iron, and to bring\nit when it was red-hot in the big tongs to the rock on the top of the\ncave. When this was done U Suidnoh called out according to his custom:\n\"My uncle, I have brought my tribute, open your mouth that I may feed\nyou\"; so the Thlen shook himself and expanded his body to a gigantic\nsize, and opened his jaws for the offering, whereupon the red-hot iron\nwas thrust in. Upon this there followed the most terrible contortions\nof the Thlen's body, as he tossed about, writhing in his death agony,\ntill the earth shook so violently that U Suidnoh and U Ramhah swooned\nfrom the concussion. When the disturbance subsided, and they had\nrevived, they looked into the cave and found U Thlen lying dead.\n\nU Suidnoh sounded a big drum to summon the people together, and great\njubilation and dancing took place when it was announced that their\nenemy was dead. From that time the Khasis have offered sacrifices to\nU Suidnoh, and he is held in great honour.\n\nThe people held a council to consider how to dispose of the body of\nthe Thlen, and it was decided that to make their triumph complete\nit was better to prepare a feast and to eat the body of U Thlen,\nso the carcase was dragged out of the cave and was divided on a flat\nrock into two portions. One portion was given to the people of the\nplains from the East, to be cooked after their manner, the other was\ngiven to the Khasis from the hills and the West to be cooked after\ntheir manner. The marks of the axe are said to be seen on the rock\nto this day, and the place is called Dain Thlen (the cutting of the\nThlen). The hole which was bored by U Suidnoh in the top of the cave\nis also said to be visible to this day.\n\nIt happened that more people came to the feast from the plains than\nfrom the hills; moreover, they were accustomed to eat eels and snakes,\nso they considered the Thlen meat very palatable and savoury. They\nate the whole of their portion and departed to their villages happily,\nand they were never afterwards troubled by Thlens. On the other hand\nthe Khasis were unused to the flesh of reptiles, and they found the\nThlen meat very unsavoury and strange-flavoured, so that when their\nfeasting was done, a great portion of the meat remained uneaten.\n\nThis caused no little perplexity, for it was deemed possible for the\nThlen to come and reanimate the unconsumed portions of his body, so\nthey kindled a big fire to burn all the fragments of meat to ashes,\nafter which they gave a glad shout, believing themselves for ever\nsafe from the ravages of U Thlen.\n\nA certain woman, whose son had neglected his duties and stayed away\nfrom the feast, was sorely troubled in her mind, fearing that some ill\nluck might befall him, and a curse come on the family, because her son\nhad wilfully disregarded the feast of conquest. While helping to gather\nthe fragments of meat for burning, she surreptitiously hid a piece in\nthe fold of her dress to take home to her son. When she reached her\nhouse she put the meat away in a covered vessel pending her son's\narrival. When the son returned he brought news of many misfortunes\nwhich he had met that day, and particularly of the loss of much money,\nwhich loss he attributed to his neglect of the important feast;\nbut when his mother told him how she had contrived to bring him a\nlittle of the Thlen meat, he was somewhat cheered, hoping that by this\nparticipation he might be helped to retrieve his fallen fortunes. To\ntheir dismay, when they uncovered the vessel, there was no meat left,\nonly a tiny live snake wriggling about. They were preparing to destroy\nit when the little snake began to speak to them in their own tongue,\nbeseeching them not to kill him. He said he was U Thlen come back to\nlife, and that he was there by the decrees of the Bleis to bring them\ngood fortune for as long as they gave him harbour and tribute.\n\nIt was a great temptation, coming as it did, when they had met\nwith great losses, so, without thinking much of the consequences,\nthey allowed the Thlen to live, harbouring it in secret without the\nknowledge of outsiders.\n\nWhen U Thlen had fully regained his vitality, he demanded human\nsacrifices from them, which made them shudder with horror. But U\nThlen was relentless, and threatened to devour them as a family, if\nthey did not comply with his request, and when they saw one member of\nthe family after another beginning to languish, fear for their lives\ndrove them to hunt their fellow-men and to murder them, to propitiate U\nThlen and to keep his good favour. Gradually U Thlen cast his sway over\nother families also, and won them to give him tribute. As his devotees\nincreased he reproduced himself mysteriously, so that in place of one\nThlen living in a cave where everybody knew him to be, there arose\nmany Thlens, living concealed in the houses of the Nongshohnohs who,\nto preserve their own safety and the goodwill of U Thlen, have become\nmen-hunters and murderers, of whom the Khasis live in deadly fear to\nthis day.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXIII\n\nHOW THE DOG CAME TO LIVE WITH MAN\n\n\nIn the happy olden days, when the animals lived together at peace in\nthe forest, they used to hold fairs and markets after the manner of\nmankind. The most important fair of all was called \"Ka Iew Luri Lura\"\n(the Fair of Luri Lura), which was held at stated intervals in the Bhoi\n(forest) country. Thither gathered all the animals, each one bringing\nsome article of merchandise, according to the decree which demanded\nthat every animal that came to the fair should bring something to\nsell. No matter whether he was young or old, rich or poor, no one\nwas to come empty-handed, for they wanted to enhance the popularity\nof the market. U Khla, the tiger, was appointed governor of the fair.\n\nMan was excluded from these fairs as he was looked upon as an enemy. He\nused to hunt the animals with his bow and arrows, so they had ceased to\nfraternise with him and kept out of his way. But one day the dog left\nhis own kindred in the jungle, and became the attendant of Man. The\nfollowing story tells how that came to pass.\n\nOne day U Ksew, the dog, walked abroad in search of goods to sell\nat the fair. The other animals were thrifty and industrious, they\nworked to produce their merchandise, but the dog, being of an indolent\nnature, did not like to work, though he was very desirous to go to the\nfair. So, to avoid the censure of his neighbours and the punishment of\nthe governor of the fair, he set out in search of something he could\nget without much labour to himself. He trudged about the country all\nday, inquiring at many villages, but when evening-time came he had not\nsucceeded in purchasing any suitable goods, and he began to fear that\nhe would have to forgo the pleasure of attending the fair after all.\n\nJust as the sun was setting he found himself on the outskirts of\nSaddew village, on the slopes of the Shillong Mountain, and as he\nsniffed the air he became aware of a strong and peculiar odour, which\nhe guessed came from some cooked food. Being hungry after his long\ntramp, he pushed his way forward, following the scent till he came to\na house right in the middle of the village, where he saw the family\nat dinner, which he noticed they were eating with evident relish. The\ndinner consisted of fermented Khasi beans, known as ktung rymbai,\nfrom which the strong smell emanated.\n\nThe Khasis are naturally a very cordial and hospitable people, and\nwhen the good wife of the house saw the dog standing outside looking\nwistfully at them she invited him to partake of what food there was\nleft in the pot. U Ksew thankfully accepted, and by reason of his\ngreat hunger he ate heartily, regardless of the strange flavour and\nsmell of the food, and he considered the ktung rymbai very palatable.\n\nIt dawned on him that here, quite by accident, he had found a novel\nand marketable produce to take to the fair; and it happened that the\nkindly family who had entertained him had a quantity of the stuff for\nsale which they kept in earthen jars, sealed with clay to retain its\nflavour. After a little palaver according to custom, a bargain was\nstruck, and U Ksew became the owner of one good-sized jar of ktung\nrymbai, which he cheerfully took on his back. He made his way across\nthe hills to Luri Lura fair, chuckling to himself as he anticipated\nthe sensation he would create and the profits he would gain, and the\npraise he would win for being so enterprising.\n\nOn the way he encountered many of the animals who like himself were\nall going to Luri Lura, and carrying merchandise on their backs to\nsell at the fair: to them U Ksew boasted of the wonderful food he had\ndiscovered and was bringing with him to the market in the earthen jar\nunder the clay seal. He talked so much about it that the contents of\nthe earthen jar became the general topic of conversation between the\nanimals, for never had such an article been known at Luri Lura.\n\nWhen he arrived at the fair the dog walked in with great consequence,\nand installed himself and his earthen jar in the most central place\nwith much clatter and ostentation. Then he began to shout at the\ntop of his voice, \"Come and buy my good food,\" and what with his\nboastings on the road and the noise he made at the fair, a very large\ncompany gathered round him, stretching their necks to have a glimpse\nat the strange-looking jar, and burning with curiosity to see the\nmuch-advertised contents.\n\nU Ksew, with great importance, proceeded to uncover the jar; but\nas soon as he broke the clay seal a puff of the most unsavoury and\nfoetid odour issued forth and drove all the animals scrambling to a\nsafe distance, much to the dog's discomfiture and the merriment of\nthe crowd. They hooted and jeered, and made all sorts of disparaging\nremarks till U Ksew felt himself covered with shame.\n\nThe stag pushed forward, and to show his disdain he contemptuously\nkicked the earthen jar till it broke. This increased the laughter and\nthe jeering, and more of the animals came forward, and they began\nto trample the ktung rymbai in the mud, taking no notice of the\nprotestations of U Ksew, who felt himself very unjustly treated. He\nwent to U Khla, the governor of the fair, to ask for redress, but here\nagain he was met with ridicule and scorn, and told that he deserved\nall the treatment he had received for filling the market-place with\nsuch a stench.\n\nAt last U Ksew's patience wore out, he grew snappish and angry,\nand with loud barks and snarls he began to curse the animals with\nmany curses, threatening to be avenged upon them all some day. At\nthe time no one heeded his curses and threats, for the dog was but\na contemptible animal in their estimation, and it was not thought\npossible for him to work much harm. Yet even on that day a part of\nhis curse came true, for the animals found to their dismay that the\nsmell of the ktung rymbai clung to their paws and their hoofs, and\ncould not be obliterated; so the laughter was not all on their side.\n\nHumiliated and angry, the dog determined to leave the fair and the\nforest and his own tribe, and to seek more congenial surroundings;\nso he went away from Luri Lura, never to return, and came once more\nto Saddew village, to the house of the family from whom he had bought\nthe offending food. When the master of the house heard the story of\nthe ill-treatment he had suffered from the animals, he pitied U Ksew,\nand he also considered that the insults touched himself as well as\nthe dog, inasmuch as it was he who had prepared and sold the ktung\nrymbai. So he spoke consolingly to U Ksew and patted his head and told\nhim to remain in the village with him, and that he would protect him\nand help him to avenge his wrongs upon the animals.\n\nAfter the coming of the dog, Man became a very successful hunter,\nfor the dog, who always accompanied him when he went out to hunt,\nwas able to follow the trail of the animals by the smell of the ktung\nrymbai, which adhered to their feet. Thus the animals lived to rue the\nday when they played their foolish pranks on U Ksew and his earthen\njar at the fair of Luri Lura.\n\nMan, having other occupations, could not always go abroad to the\njungle to hunt; so in order to secure a supply of meat for himself\nduring the non-hunting seasons he tamed pigs and kept them at hand in\nthe village. When the dog came he shared the dwelling and the meals\nof the pig, U Sniang; they spent their days in idleness, living on\nthe bounty of Man.\n\nOne evening, as Man was returning from his field, tired with the day's\ntoil, he noticed the two idle animals and he said to himself--\"It\nis very foolish of me to do all the hard work myself while these two\nwell-fed creatures are lying idle. They ought to take a turn at doing\nsome work for their food.\"\n\nThe following morning Man commanded the two animals to go to the field\nto plough in his stead. When they arrived there U Sniang, in obedience\nto his master's orders, began to dig with his snout, and by nightfall\nhad managed to furrow quite a large patch of the field; but U Ksew,\naccording to his indolent habits, did no work at all. He lay in the\nshade all day, or amused himself by snapping at the flies. In the\nevening, when it was time to go home, he would start running backwards\nand forwards over the furrows, much to the annoyance of the pig.\n\nThe same thing happened for many days in succession, till the patience\nof the pig was exhausted, and on their return from the field one\nevening he went and informed their master of the conduct of the dog,\nhow he was idling the whole day and leaving all the work for him to do.\n\nThe master was loth to believe these charges against U Ksew, whom he\nhad found such an active and willing helper in the chase: he therefore\ndetermined to go and examine the field. When he came there he found\nonly a few of the footprints of the pig, while those of the dog were\nall over the furrows. He at once concluded that U Sniang had falsely\ncharged his friend, and he was exceedingly wroth with him.\n\nWhen he came home, Man called the two animals to him, and he spoke\nvery angrily to U Sniang, and told him that henceforth he would have to\nlive in a little sty by himself, and to eat only the refuse from Man's\ntable and other common food, as a punishment for making false charges\nagainst his friend; but the dog would be privileged to live in the\nhouse with his master, and to share the food of his master's family.\n\nThus it was that the dog came to live with Man.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXIV\n\nTHE ORIGIN OF BETEL AND TOBACCO\n\n\nLong, long ago two boys lived in a village on the slopes of the hills,\nwho were very fond of one another and were inseparable companions. The\nname of one was U Riwbha; he was the son of one of the wealthiest\nmen in the country. The other was called U Baduk, who belonged to\none of the lowly families; but the difference in station was no\nbarrier to the affection of the children for one another. Every day\nthey sought one another out, and together they roamed abroad in the\nfields and the forests, learning to know the birds and the flowers;\ntogether they learned to swim in the rivers, together they learned\nto use the bow and arrow, and to play on the flute. They loved the\nsame pastimes and knew the same friends.\n\nAs they grew up they were not able to spend so much time together. U\nRiwbha had to overlook his father's property, which involved many days'\nabsence from the village; while U Baduk went every day to labour in\nthe fields to earn his own rice and to help his parents, who were\npoor. But the old friendship remained as firm as ever between the\ntwo young men, they trusted one another fully, and the one kept no\nsecrets from the other.\n\nIn the course of time they took to themselves wives and became the\nheads of families. U Riwbha's wife, like himself, belonged to one of\nthe wealthy families, so that by his marriage his influence in the\nvillage increased, and he became very rich and prosperous. U Baduk\nalso married into his own class and went to live in a distant village,\nbut he never gathered riches like his friend; nevertheless he was\nvery happy. He had a good and thrifty wife, and side by side they\ndaily toiled in the fields to supply their simple wants as a family.\n\nThus circumstances kept the two friends apart, for they seldom\nmet. The old regard was not in the least abated by absence, rather\nthe bond seemed to be drawn closer and closer as the years went\nby. Occasionally U Baduk journeyed to his native village to see his\npeople and friends, and on these occasions nowhere was he made more\nwelcome than in the house of his friend U Riwbha, who insisted upon\nhis spending the greater part of his time with him, and partaking of\nmany sumptuous meals at his house. Thus the two old comrades renewed\ntheir intimacy and affection.\n\nOn his return home from one such visit U Baduk's wife told him that\ntheir neighbours had been talking a great deal and making disparaging\nremarks about the intimacy between them and their wealthy friend,\nhinting that no such friendship existed, that it was only U Baduk's\nboast that he had rich friends in his own village. If there were such\nan intimacy as he pretended, why had his rich friend never come to\nsee them when U Baduk was constantly going to visit him? He was vexed\nto hear this, not so much because they condemned him, but because\nthey were casting aspersions on his best friend, so he determined to\ninvite his friend to pay them a visit.\n\nWhen U Baduk paid his next visit to his village, and had as usual\naccepted the hospitality of his friend, he ventured to say, \"I am\nalways coming to see you and partaking of your hospitality, but you\nhave not been to see me once since I got married.\"\n\nTo this U Riwbha replied, \"Very true, my dear friend, very true, but\ndo not take it amiss that I never thought of this before. You know\nthat I have much business on my hands, and have no leisure like many\npeople to take my pleasures; but I have been too remiss towards you,\nand I must make haste to remedy my fault. Give my greeting to your\nwife, and tell her that I will start from here to-morrow to come to\npay you both a visit, and to give myself the pleasure of tasting a\ndish of her curry and rice.\"\n\nHighly gratified and pleased, U Baduk hastened home to tell his wife\nof his friend's projected visit, and urged her to rouse herself and\nto cook the most savoury meal she was capable of. She too was very\npleased to hear that the man they respected and loved so much was\ncoming to see them; but she said, \"It has come very suddenly, when\nI am not prepared; we have neither fish nor rice in the house.\"\n\n\"That is indeed unfortunate,\" said the husband, \"but we have kind\nneighbours from whom we have never asked a favour before. You must\ngo out and borrow what is wanted from them, for it would be too great\na disgrace not to have food to place before our friend when he comes.\"\n\nThe wife went out as requested by her husband, but although she walked\nthe whole length of the village there was no one who could spare her\nany rice or fish, and she returned home gloomy and disheartened and\ntold her husband of her ill-success. When U Baduk heard this bad\nnews he was extremely troubled and said, \"What sort of a world is\nthis to live in, where a morsel of food cannot be obtained to offer\nhospitality to a friend? It is better to die than to live.\" Whereupon\nhe seized a knife and stabbed himself to death.\n\nWhen the wife saw that her good husband was dead, she was smitten\nwith inconsolable grief, and she cried out, \"What is there for me to\nlive for now? It is better that I also should die.\" Thereupon she in\nher turn seized the knife and stabbed herself to death.\n\nIt happened that a notorious robber called U Nongtuh was wandering\nthrough the village that night, and, as it was cold, he bethought\nhimself of sneaking into one of the houses where the family had\ngone to sleep, to warm himself. He saw that a fire was burning in U\nBaduk's house, and that it was very silent within. He determined to\nenter. \"They are hard-working people,\" said he to himself, \"and will\nsleep soundly; I can safely sit and warm myself without their knowing\nanything about me.\" So he squatted down comfortably on the hearth,\nnot knowing that the two dead bodies lay on the floor close to him.\n\nBefore long the warmth made him drowsy, and without thinking U Nongtuh\nfell asleep, and did not awake until the day was dawning; he jumped\nup hastily, hoping to escape before the village was astir, but he\nsaw the two dead bodies and was greatly terrified. A great trembling\ntook him, and he began to mutter wildly, \"What an unfortunate man I\nam to have entered this house! The neighbours will say that I killed\nthese people; it will be useless for me to deny it, for I have such\nan evil reputation nobody will believe me. It is better for me to\ndie by my own hand here than to be caught by the villagers, and be\nput to death like a murderer.\" Whereupon he seized the knife and\nstabbed himself to death; so there were three victims on the floor,\nlying dead side by side, all because there was no food in the house\nto offer hospitality to a friend.\n\nThe morning advanced, and when the neighbours noticed that no one\nstirred abroad from U Baduk's house they flocked there to find out\nwhat was the matter. When they saw the three dead bodies they were\nfilled with sadness and compunction, for they remembered how they had\nrefused to lend them food the night before, to prepare entertainment\nfor their friend.\n\nIn the course of the day U Riwbha arrived according to the promise made\nto his friend, and when he was told of the terrible tragedy his sorrow\nknew no bounds; he sat wailing and mourning by the body of the friend\nthat he loved best, and would not be comforted. \"Alas!\" he wailed,\n\"that a man should lose such a true friend because the world is become\nso hard for the poor that to entertain a friend is a greater burden\nthan they can bear.\"\n\nFor many hours he wept and sorrowed, praying to the Great God to show\na way of keeping up the customs of hospitality without the poor having\nto suffer and be crushed, as his own good friend had been crushed.\n\nJust about that time the Great God walked abroad to look on the\nuniverse, and he saw the sorrow of U Riwbha, and took pity on his\ntears, and made known that from henceforth He would cause to grow\nthree valuable plants, which were to be used by mankind in future\nas the means of entertainment, whereby the poor as well as the\nrich could indulge in the entertainment of friends without being\nburdened. Immediately three trees which had never been known to mankind\nbefore were seen springing up from the ground where the dead bodies\nlay. They were the Betel, the Pan, and the Tobacco.\n\nFrom that time it became a point of etiquette in Khasi households,\nrich and poor alike, to offer betel nut and pan or a whiff of tobacco\nfrom the hookah to friends when they make calls.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXV\n\nTHE STAG AND THE SNAIL\n\n\nOn the day of the animals' fair at Luri Lura, the stag and the snail\nmet. It was a very hot day, and the animals as they travelled to\nthe fair eagerly sought the shelter of the trees. There was a large\nRubber grove in the forest, and thither many of the animals hasted,\npanting from the great heat, and there laid down their burdens for\na while and rested in the cool shades.\n\nIt was a familiar rendezvous, and many of the animals turned there,\nas much from habit as from fatigue, glad to meet old acquaintances. On\nthe day which concerns this story there was an unusually large throng,\nand they chatted together sociably about the different events of\ntheir lives and the circumstances of their neighbours.\n\nIn one corner a group were noisily comparing notes with one\nanother about the length of time it had taken them to travel\ncertain distances. In this group was the stag, who monopolised the\nconversation, and boasted of his own speed, and the buffalo, trying to\nbe affable, said that they were bound to admit that the stag was now\nthe swiftest animal in the jungle, since the dog had run away to Man,\nand the entire company nodded in agreement.\n\nThere was, however, a little grey snail in the grass with her shell on\nher back, who was very disgusted with the boastings of the animals,\nespecially of the stag, as if swiftness was the only virtue to which\nan animal ought to aspire. In order to put a stop to their talk,\nshe called out mockingly for them to look at the lather that covered\ntheir bodies from over-exertion, and to compare her own cool skin,\nwhich had not perspired at all in spite of the journey; consequently,\nshe claimed the honours for good travelling for herself.\n\nThis was received with much displeasure by the animals, who felt that\ntheir dignity had been flouted, for the snail was an insect in their\nestimation, not fit to be admitted to their august company. The stag\nbegan to canter gracefully round the grove to prove his superiority,\nhis fellow animals applauding admiringly; but the little snail was\nnot to be silenced, and to show her contempt she challenged the stag\nto run a long race with her, declaring that she would beat him.\n\nMany of the animals urged the stag not to heed the challenge of the\nsnail, as it was only given to affront him, but he said that unless\nhe would run she would always insult him and call him a coward who\nhad shown fear of a snail. So it was settled that the stag and the\nsnail should run a long race, from the Rubber grove to the top of\nMount Shillong, on the animals' return from Luri Lura.\n\nThe name of this little grey snail was Ka Mattah. As soon as the\nanimals left the grove she summoned together all her tribe to consider\nhow to proceed so as to beat the stag in the long race. Many of the\nsnail family found fault with her for her foolish challenge, but they\nwere all prepared to help her out of her difficulty, and to save her\nfrom the disgrace of defeat. It was decided in the family council\nthat the snails should form themselves into a long line edging the\npath all the way from the Rubber grove to Mount Shillong, and hide\nthemselves in the grass, so as not to be discovered by the stag. So\nthe snails dispersed and formed themselves into a long line on the\nedge of the path.\n\nAs soon as they had sold their wares, the animals hastened to the\ngrove, laughing among themselves as they walked at the foolishness of\nKa Mattah in setting herself up against the swiftest of the animals,\nand they planned how to make her the general laughing-stock of the\njungle for her audacity. When they reached the Rubber grove they found\nKa Mattah ready for the race, having discarded her cumbersome shell\nand put herself into a racing attitude on the path, which caused them\nno little amusement. As soon as the signal was given she dived into\nthe grass and was lost to sight, while the stag cantered towards the\nmountains. After going some distance, he stopped, thinking that there\nwould be no need to run further, as he imagined that the snail was\nfar behind and likely to have given up the race; so he called out,\n\"Heigh, Mattah, art thou coming?\"\n\nTo his surprise, the voice of the snail answered close beside him\nsaying, \"I am here, I am here.\" Thereupon he ran on more swiftly, but\nafter running several miles he stopped again and called out as before,\n\"Heigh, Mattah, art thou coming?\" And again the voice answered close\nto his heels, \"I am here, I am here\"; upon which the stag tore off\nat a terrific pace through the forest, only stopping at intervals\nto call out to the snail. As often as he called, the voice answered\nclose to his feet, \"I am here, I am here,\" which set him racing\nwith ever-increasing speed. When he reached the Iei Tree Mountain,\nhe was panting and quivering from his great exertions and longed\nto lie down to rest, but he saw before him the goal to which he was\nbound, and spurred himself to a last effort. He was so exhausted as\nhe climbed up the slopes of Shillong that he was giddy and faint,\nand could scarcely move his wearied limbs, and, to his dismay, before\nhe reached the summit, he heard the tormenting voice of the snail\ncalling out from the goal, \"I have won, I have won.\"\n\nExhausted and defeated, the stag threw himself full length on\nthe ground, and his disappointment and the sickness due to the\nterrible strain he had put on himself caused him to spit out his\ngall-bladder. To this day no gall-bladder is to be found in the anatomy\nof the stag; so he carries in his body the token of the great defeat\nhe sustained through the wiles of Ka Mattah, the little grey snail,\nand the pathetic look has never gone out of his eyes.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXVI\n\nTHE LEAP OF KA LIKAI\n\n\n\"The Leap of Ka Likai\" is the name given to a beautiful waterfall on\nthe Khasi Hills, a few miles to the west of Cherrapoonjee, which, at\ncertain points, is visible from great distances, while the roar and\nthe echoes of its waters are to be heard for miles. The view is one\nof exceptional beauty, and many visitors are attracted to see it. The\nclear chattering stream is seen emerging from its wild mountain home,\ndashing over the high precipice into the shadows of a deep gorge,\nflinging upwards, as it falls, clouds of tremulous spray, which wreathe\nand coil around majestic rocks, creating countless small rainbows which\ndance and quiver in a maze of palms and ferns and blossoming shrubs.\n\nThe place is so remote and so still, as if every sound had been\nawed into a hush, except the thunderous boom of the torrent with its\ndistant echoes moaning and shrieking like a spirit in anguish, that\nthe whole locality seems weird and uncanny, suggestive of terrible\npossibilities. This, probably, accounts for the gruesome tradition\namongst the Khasis which has been associated with this waterfall from\ntime immemorial. It runs as follows:\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a young married woman called Ka Likai,\nin the village of Rangjirteh, on the hill above the Falls. She and her\nhusband lived very happily together and rejoiced in the possession of\na baby girl of great beauty. The young husband died when the child\nwas still a babe, and from that time Ka Likai's whole heart became\nwrapped up in the child.\n\nShe found it very hard to earn enough money to maintain them both,\nso she was persuaded to marry again, thinking to have her own burden\nlightened, and to obtain more comforts for her child.\n\nThe new husband was a selfish and a somewhat brutal man; he was\nexceedingly jealous of his little step-daughter, because his wife paid\nher so much attention, and when he found that he had been accepted\nas a husband by Ka Likai merely for the benefit of the child, he\nwas so mortified that he grew to hate her and determined to do her\nsome mischief.\n\nHe became sulky in the home and refused to go out to work, but he\nforced his wife to go every day, and during her absence he bullied and\nill-treated the child. One day Ka Likai had to go on a long journey\nto carry iron ore, and this gave the cruel stepfather the opportunity\nhe sought to carry out his evil purpose, and he killed the child. So\ndepraved had he become and so demoniacal was his hatred, that he\ndetermined to inflict even a worse horror upon his wife; he took\nportions of the body and cooked them against the mother's return,\nand waited in silence for her coming.\n\nWhen Ka Likai reached her home in the evening, she was surprised\nto find her husband in a seemingly kinder mood than he had shown\nfor a long time, having cooked her supper and set it ready for her,\nwith unusual consideration. She noticed the absence of the child,\nand immediately asked where she was, but the man's plausible answer\nthat she had just gone out to play dispelled every misgiving, and\nshe sat down to eat without a suspicion of evil.\n\nAfter finishing her supper, she drew forward the betel-nut basket to\nprepare betel and pan to chew, according to custom after a meal. It\nhappened that one of the hands of the murdered girl had been left\nby the stepfather in this basket, and the mother at once saw and\nrecognised it. She wildly demanded the meaning of the awful discovery,\nwhereupon the man confessed his crime, and also told her how she\nherself had eaten of the flesh of her own child.\n\nThe terrible and overwhelming revelation took away the mother's\nreason. She rose distractedly, and, running to the edge of the\nprecipice, threw herself into the abyss. Ever since then the Falls\nhave been called \"The Leap of Ka Likai,\" and the doleful moans of\ntheir echoes are said to be the echoes of Ka Likai's anguished cries.\n\nTo this day, when widows with children are contemplating second\nmarriages, they are cautioned to be careful and to use judgement,\nwith the warning, \"Remember Ka Likai.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXVII\n\nWHAT CAUSED THE SHADOWS ON THE MOON\n\n\nIn the early ages there lived a family of deities, consisting of a\nmother and four children--three daughters and one son. They lived\nvery happily for many long years, the children showing great respect\nto their mother and to one another. Their names were Ka Um (Water),\nKa Ding (Fire), and Ka Sngi (the Sun), and the boy was called U Bnai\n(the Moon). They were all very noble and beautiful to look upon,\nas became their high destiny, but it was universally agreed that\nKa Sngi and U Bnai, the two youngest, possessed greater beauty and\nloveliness than the two elder sisters. In those days the moon was\nequal to the sun in brightness and splendour.\n\nWhen U Bnai grew up he began to show somewhat wayward tendencies;\nhe came and went at his own will, without consulting his mother\nor his sisters, and consorted with companions far beneath him in\nrank. Sometimes he would absent himself from home for many days,\nand none of his family knew whither he wandered. His mother often\nremonstrated with him, as is right for every mother to do, and she\nand his sisters endeavoured to guide him into more decorous habits,\nbut he was wilful and self-indulgent, thinking that he had a right to\nmore liberty than his women-folk allowed him. By degrees he abandoned\nhimself to a life of pleasure and wild pursuits, paying no heed to\nthe advice and warnings of his elders.\n\nOnce he followed some of his low associates into the nether regions and\nspent a long time in that land of goblins and vice. After a while his\nthoughts came back to his family and his erstwhile radiant home, and\na longing to see them came over him, so he quitted the nether regions,\nand left his evil companions, and returned to his home and his kindred.\n\nHe had gazed so long on the hideous faces of the inhabitants of the\ndark world, that he was dazzled by the beauty of his sister Ka Sngi,\nwho came to meet him with smiles and joy for his return. He had\nalso lost the right perception of duty and honour, and, instead of\ngreeting her as his sister, he went to his mother and with unbrotherly\nwantonness demanded the hand of Ka Sngi in marriage, saying that he\nhad travelled throughout many worlds, and had seen the sons of all\nnations, but there was no suitor to be found in the whole universe\nwhose beauty could match that of Ka Sngi, except himself. Consequently\nhe said that it behoved his mother to give countenance to his suit\nand to arrange the marriage.\n\nThis caused the mother much grief, and she dismissed her son from\nher presence in dishonour. Ka Sngi, when she heard of his design,\nwas enraged because of his unchaste proposal, and in anger she went\nforth to seek her brother. When she found him she forgot her usual\ndignity and decorum, and, lifting a handful of hot ashes, she threw\nit into U Bnai's face. The ashes scorched his flesh so deeply that\nthe marks have remained on his face to this day. Ever since then the\nlight of the moon has been pale, marred by dark shadows, and that is\nthe reason he does not show his face in the day-time.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXVIII\n\nU KSUID TYNJANG\n\n\nThe Ancient Khasis were wont to people all their beautiful hills and\nforests with innumerable supernatural beings, who were supposed to\nbe working in the world either for good or for evil, and dominating\nall the events of men's lives. There were Bleis (gods) of all grades,\nand Ksuids (demons or goblins) without number, and Puris (sprites or\nfairies), visible and invisible, to be encountered everywhere. The\nreligious observances of the Khasis are mainly intended to fulfil\nobligations supposed to be imposed upon them by these imaginary beings,\nwho are described as quick to take offence and difficult to appease;\nhence the many and complicated ceremonies which the Khasi religion\ndemands.\n\nOne of the most familiar names in ancient lore is that of U Ksuid\nTynjang, a deformed and lame demon who haunted the forests and\ntormented mankind, and for his misdeeds had been doomed to suffer\nfrom an incurable and loathsome itching disease, which could only be\nallayed by the touch of a human hand. All the stories related of this\nrepulsive demon are concerned with his forbidding personality and the\ntortures he inflicted on the victims he captured purposely to force\nthem to rub his body and relieve the terrible itching to which he\nhad been doomed. He used to tickle them to death with his deformed\nand claw-like hands if they tried to desist from their sickening task.\n\nTo lure people into his grasp, he used to imitate the human voice and\nto shout \"Kaw-hoit, Kaw-hoit!\" the common signal-cry of people who lose\ntheir companions or their way--a cry to which all humane travellers\nquickly respond, for it is considered equivalent to murder to ignore\nthe signal-cry without going to the rescue. In this way U Ksuid Tynjang\nwas able to locate the whereabouts of lonely wanderers, and thither\nhe would direct his unsteady steps, skipping and hobbling through\nthe jungle, until he came up to them and made them his captives.\n\nIn those days a great fair was periodically held at the foot of the\nHills, and to this the Khasis from all over the country were wont\nto resort, especially the younger folk, who were fond of pleasure\nand liked to see the show of fine cloths brought there for sale. It\nhappened that two young sisters from the Hills, Ka Thei and Ka Duh,\nwith their brother, attended one of these fairs in the company of some\nof their neighbours. It was their first visit to a fair, and they were\nso taken up with the wonders of it that they forgot all about the time,\nand walked to and fro, gazing at the strange people and wares, until\nunconsciously they drifted away from their friends. It was now growing\nlate, and Ka Thei, the eldest sister, anxiously bade the others cling\nto her that they might retrace their steps and if possible find their\ncompanions; but although they walked from one end of the fair to the\nother, they met nobody they knew. By this they were in great dismay,\nand they determined to start for home as fast as they could, hoping\nto overtake their friends on the way. Evidently every one was far\nahead, for though they walked very fast and called out at intervals,\nthey saw no signs of a friend and heard no response, and by the time\nthey reached the Shillong forests, when they were yet some miles from\nhome, night closed upon them, and they lost their way in the dense dark\njungle. It was hopeless to try and proceed further, for the path could\nnot be traced in the darkness, so the three timid young travellers\nsat down, footsore and forlorn, crushed down with foreboding and fear.\n\nJust then they heard a loud cry in the distance, Kaw-hoit! and they\nall thought it was the cry of one of their friends signalling to them,\nand the three shouted back in chorus Kaw-hoit! and waited expectantly\nfor some one to appear. To their horror they saw approaching, not a\nfriend as they had expected, but the deformed and diseased figure of\na hideous Ksuid, upon which they realised that they had responded to\nthe mimic-cry of U Ksuid Tynjang, whom they had often heard described,\nand against answering whose call they had often been warned.\n\nIn a few moments he was with them, and peremptorily he ordered them\nto rub his itching body with their hands. Although they sickened at\nthe contact, they knew better than to disobey, for U Ksuid Tynjang\nwas known to be very cruel, tickling to death those who dared to\ndisobey him.\n\nIt happened that the young brother escaped being seen by the demon,\na fact which Ka Thei hoped might turn to their advantage, for she\nhad an alert and a resourceful mind. She motioned to him to squat\ndown on the ground, and she hastily took off the knup (leaf umbrella)\nhanging from her shoulders, and covered him with it.\n\nSoothed by the touch of the young maidens' hands, the Ksuid began to\ndose. With a little contrivance, Ka Thei succeeded in approaching her\nbrother, quickly stuck some shrubs in the knup, to make it look like\nthe surrounding jungle, and whispered to him to crawl away as soon as\nthe dawn broke, and seek the path to their village to carry the news\nof their fate to their parents, and bid them offer sacrifices to the\ngod of Shillong, in whose territory they had been captured, for their\ndeliverance. With the help of the shrub-covered knup the boy got away\nat dawn unobserved, and reached his home, whereupon his parents offered\nsacrifices to U 'Lei Shillong for the deliverance of their daughters.\n\nWhenever the Ksuid fell asleep the sisters were able to take turns at\ntheir unpleasant task. In order to lighten their lot somewhat, they\nplanned to kindle a fire for the following night, and they collected\ndry sticks and made ready; when night fell they kindled the fire and\nfelt less afraid. During the night, Ka Duh, in putting some fresh\nwood on the fire, found a large, heavy dao--an axe-knife--of iron\nwhich she showed to her sister, who at once took it as an augury that\ndeliverance was forthcoming, and that the god of Shillong was working\nfor them. She at once began to think of a plan whereby the dao might\nbe useful to break the spell of the demon and to free her sister and\nherself from his power. She heated the thick blade red-hot while the\nKsuid slumbered, and, taking it by the handle, she seared his body\nwith the hot iron, so that he died.\n\nSuch, however, is the tenacity of all Ksuids that, even when they\nare killed and die, they do not go out of existence. U Ksuid Tynjang\ncould no longer resume the form of a demon as he had formerly done,\nbut he could assume some other form and remain in his old haunts. The\nform he chose was that of a jirmi--a creeper of a tough and tenacious\nnature which entangles the feet of hunters when they run in the\nchase, and saps the life out of the forest trees, and destroys the\nplants cultivated by mankind. This plant is known to this day as the\nTynjang creeper.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXIX\n\nWHAT MAKES THE LIGHTNING\n\n\nIn the early days of the world, when the animals fraternised with\nmankind, they tried to emulate the manners and customs of men, and\nthey spoke their language.\n\nMankind held a great festival every thirteen moons, where the strongest\nmen and the handsomest youths danced \"sword dances\" and contested in\narchery and other noble games, such as befitted their race and their\ntribe as men of the Hills and the Forests--the oldest and the noblest\nof all the tribes.\n\nThe animals used to attend these festivals and enjoyed watching the\ngames and the dances. Some of the younger and more enterprising among\nthem even clamoured for a similar carnival for the animals, to which,\nafter a time, the elders agreed; so it was decided that the animals\nshould appoint a day to hold a great feast.\n\nAfter a period of practising dances and learning games, U Pyrthat,\nthe thunder giant, was sent out with his big drum to summon all the\nworld to the festival. The drum of U Pyrthat was the biggest and the\nloudest of all drums, and could be heard from the most remote corner\nof the forest; consequently a very large multitude came together,\nsuch as had never before been seen at any festival.\n\nThe animals were all very smartly arrayed, each one after his or her\nown taste and fashion, and each one carrying some weapon of warfare\nor a musical instrument, according to the part he intended to play\nin the festival. There was much amusement when the squirrel came up,\nbeating on a little drum as he marched; in his wake came the little\nbird Shakyllia, playing on a flute, followed by the porcupine marching\nto the rhythm of a pair of small cymbals.\n\nEvery one was exceedingly merry--they joked and poked fun at one\nanother, in great glee: some of the animals laughed so much on that\nfeast day that they have never been able to laugh since. The mole was\nthere, and on looking up he saw the owl trying to dance, swaying as if\nshe were drunk, and tumbling against all sorts of obstacles, as she\ncould not see where she was going, at which he laughed so heartily\nthat his eyes became narrow slits and have remained so to this day.\n\nWhen the merriment was at its height U Kui, the lynx, arrived on the\nscene, displaying a very handsome silver sword which he had procured at\ngreat expense to make a show at the festival. When he began to dance\nand to brandish the silver sword, everybody applauded. He really\ndanced very gracefully, but so much approbation turned his head,\nand he became very uplifted, and began to think himself better than\nall his neighbours.\n\nJust then U Pyrthat, the thunder giant, happened to look round, and he\nsaw the performance of the lynx and admired the beauty of the silver\nsword, and he asked to have the handling of it for a short time,\nas a favour, saying that he would like to dance a little, but had\nbrought no instrument except his big drum. This was not at all to\nU Kui's liking, for he did not want any one but himself to handle\nhis fine weapon; but all the animals began to shout as if with one\nvoice, saying \"Shame!\" for showing such discourtesy to a guest, and\nespecially to the guest by whose kindly offices the assembly had been\nsummoned together; so U Kui was driven to yield up his silver sword.\n\nAs soon as U Pyrthat got possession of the sword he began to wield\nit with such rapidity and force that it flashed like leaping flame,\ntill all eyes were dazzled almost to blindness, and at the same time he\nstarted to beat on his big drum with such violence that the earth shook\nand trembled and the animals fled in terror to hide in the jungle.\n\nDuring the confusion U Pyrthat leaped to the sky, taking the lynx's\nsilver sword with him, and he is frequently seen brandishing it wildly\nthere and beating loudly on his drum. In many countries people call\nthese manifestations \"thunder\" and \"lightning,\" but the Ancient Khasis\nwho were present at the festival knew them to be the stolen sword of\nthe lynx.\n\nU Kui was very disconsolate, and has never grown reconciled to his\nloss. It is said of him that he has never wandered far from home\nsince then, in order to live near a mound he is trying to raise,\nwhich he hopes will one day reach the sky. He hopes to climb to the\ntop of it, to overtake the giant U Pyrthat, and to seize once more\nhis silver sword.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXX\n\nTHE PROHIBITED FOOD\n\n\nWhen mankind first came to live upon the earth, the Great God saw\nfit to walk abroad in their midst frequently, and permitted them\nto hold converse with Him on matters pertaining to their duties\nand their welfare. At one time the discourse turned on the terrible\nconsequences of disobedience, which caused punishment to fall, not\nonly on the transgressor himself, but upon the entire human race also.\n\nThe man could not comprehend the mystery and sought for enlightenment\nfrom God, and in order to help him to understand, the Great God\nsaid unto him, \"Do thou retire for seven days to meditate upon this\nmatter; at the end of the seven days I will again visit the earth;\nseek me then and we will discourse further. In the meantime go into\nthe forest and hew down the giant tree which I point out to thee,\nand on thy peril beware of cutting down any other trees.\" And He\npointed out a large tree in the middle of the forest.\n\nThereupon the Great God ascended into heaven, and the man went forth\nto meditate and to cut down the giant tree, as he had been commanded.\n\nAt the expiration of seven days the man came to the appointed place\nand the Great God came to him. He questioned him minutely about his\nwork and his meditations during the week of retirement, but the man\nhad gained no further knowledge nor received any new light. So the\nGreat God, to help him, began to question him. Their discourse was\nafter this manner:\n\n\"Hast thou cut down the tree as thou wert commanded?\"\n\n\"Behold, its place is empty, I have cut it down.\"\n\n\"Didst thou observe the command in all things? Didst thou abstain\nfrom cutting down any of the other trees?\"\n\n\"I abstained from cutting down any other trees; only the one that\nwas pointed out to me have I cut down.\"\n\n\"What are all these trees and shrubs that I see scattered about?\"\n\n\"These were broken and uprooted by the weight of the great tree as\nit fell.\"\n\n\"Behold, here are some trees that have been cut down with an axe;\nhow did this happen?\"\n\n\"The jungle was so thick I could not reach the giant tree without\nfirst cutting a path for myself.\"\n\n\"That is true; therefore learn from this parable, man is so great that,\nif he falls into transgression, others must suffer with him.\"\n\nBut the man still marvelled, and his mind remained dark. The Great God,\nin His long-sufferance, told him to ponder further upon the parable\nof the giant tree. So the Great God walked abroad for a time and man\nwas left alone to ponder. When He returned He found the man still\npuzzled and unable to comprehend; and once again He questioned him.\n\n\"What took place in My absence?\"\n\n\"Nothing of importance that I can think of.\"\n\n\"Why didst thou cry out as if in pain?\"\n\n\"It was for a very trivial cause; an ant bit me in my heel.\"\n\n\"And what didst thou do?\"\n\n\"I took a stone and killed the ant and the whole nest of ants.\"\n\n\"This also is a parable; because one ant bit thee the whole nest was\ndestroyed. Man is the ant; if man transgresseth he and all his race\nmust suffer.\"\n\nYet the man comprehended not: whereupon the Great God granted him\nanother seven days to retire and to meditate upon the parables of\nthe giant tree and the ant.\n\nAgain the man came to the appointed place at the end of seven days'\nseeking to receive fuller knowledge and understanding. The Great God\nhad not yet appeared, so the man took a walk in the forest to await His\ncoming. As he wandered aimlessly about, he met a stranger carrying a\nsmall net in his hand out of which he was eating some food. Now this\nstranger was a demon, but the man did not know it.\n\n\"Where art thou going?\" asked the stranger affably after the manner\nof the country.\n\n\"Just to walk for my pleasure,\" replied the man; \"what food art\nthou eating?\"\n\n\"Only some cakes of bread which I find very tasty; take some and\neat.\" And he passed the net to him.\n\n\"Thy offer is kindly made, but do not take it amiss that I refuse to\naccept thy bread, for it is decreed that we shall live on rice alone.\"\n\n\"Even so, but surely to take a morsel to taste would not be wrong.\"\n\nThis time the man did not resist, but accepted a cake of bread and\nate it with enjoyment, after which the stranger departed, taking his\nbag of cakes with him.\n\nThe man had scarcely swallowed the strange food when he heard the\nvoice of the Great God calling unto him from the skies, saying:\n\n\"What hast thou done, oh man? Thou knowest the decree that rice was\nprovided to be thy food, yet thou hast unmindfully transgressed and\npartaken of the strange food of the tempter. Henceforth thou and thy\nrace shall be tormented by the strange being whose food thou hast\neaten. By eating his food thou hast given him dominion over thee and\nover thy race, and to escape from his torments thou and thy race must\ngive of thy substance to appease him and to avert his wrath.\"\n\nThus, too late, the man began to understand, and ever since then\nthe days of men have been full of sorrow because man yielded to the\ntempter's voice instead of submitting to the decrees of the Great God.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXXI\n\nTHE COOING OF THE DOVES\n\n\nOf all the birds there are none that keep themselves more separate\nthan the doves. They do not peck at other birds as the crows and the\nvultures do, but, on restless foot and wing, they quickly withdraw\nthemselves from every presuming neighbour.\n\nThe Ancient Khasis say that at one time the doves sang like other\nbirds, and the following story tells how they ceased their singing\nand came to express their feelings in the plaintive \"Coo-oo\" for\nwhich they are noted throughout the world.\n\nOnce a family of doves lived very happily in the forest, and its\nyoungest member was a beautiful female called Ka Paro. Her parents and\nall the family were very indulgent to her, and never permitted her\nto risk the danger of the grain-fields until they had ascertained\nthat there were no hunters or wild beasts likely to attack her;\nso Ka Paro used to stay in the shelter of her home until they gave\na signal that the land was safe and clear.\n\nOne day, while waiting for the signal, she happened to go up into\na tall tree on which there were clusters of luscious red berries\ngrowing. As the doves usually subsisted on grain, Ka Paro did not\npay much attention to the berries; she sat on a branch, preening her\nfeathers and watching other birds who came to pick them.\n\nBy and by there came a smart young Jylleit (a jungle bird with gorgeous\ngreen and gold feathers) who perched to pick berries upon the very\nbranch on which Ka Paro sat. She had never seen such a beautiful bird,\nand to please him she sang to him one of her sweetest songs. U Jylleit\nwas quickly attracted by the sweet voice and the gentle manners of\nthe dove, and a pleasant intimacy grew between the two. Ka Paro came\nto that tree to preen her feathers and to sing every day, while the\nJylleit admired her and picked the berries.\n\nAfter a time U Jylleit sent to the dove's parents to ask her in\nmarriage. Although their young daughter pressed them hard to give\ntheir consent, the parents were wise, and did not want to trust\nthe happiness of their pet child to a stranger until they had time\nto test his worth; they knew too that marriages between alien tribes\nwere scarcely ever a success. So, to test the constancy of the young\nsuitor, they postponed the marriage till the winter, and with that\nthe lovers had to be content. The parents remembered that the berries\nwould be over by the winter, and it remained to be seen whether the\nJylleit would be willing to forgo his luxuries and to share the frugal\nfood of the doves, or whether he would fly away to some other forests\nwhere berries were to be found. Ka Paro was so much in love that she\nwas very confident of the fidelity of her suitor, but to her sorrow,\nas soon as the berries were finished, U Jylleit flitted away without\neven a word of farewell, and she never saw him again.\n\nFrom that time Ka Paro ceased to sing. She could only utter the\nlonging and sorrow that was in her heart in sad and plaintive notes,\nso the doves are cooing sadly even in their happiest moments.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXXII\n\nHOW THE MONKEY'S COLOUR BECAME GREY\n\n\nIn olden times the monkeys had long hair of different colours covering\ntheir bodies, and they were much more handsome than they are in the\npresent day. They were very inquisitive animals and liked to meddle\nin the affairs of other people, and they caused a lot of trouble in\nthe world.\n\nOne day a monkey wandering on the plains met Ram, the god of the\nHindus, searching for the goddess Sita. Ram, thinking that the monkey\nby his inquisitiveness and audacity might help to find her, bribed\nhim to come to his service.\n\nAfter making enquiries far and near, the monkey heard at last that Ka\nSita was confined in a fort in the island of Ceylon, so he went and\ntold the god Ram. Thereupon Ram gathered together a great host to go\nand fight the king of the island of Ceylon, but they found the place\ninfested with dragons and goblins of the most hostile disposition,\nso that they dared not venture to land.\n\nThe hosts of Ram then held a consultation, and they decided that,\nas the monkey had been the cause of their coming there, he must find\nout a way for them to land without being destroyed by the dragons. The\nmonkey, not knowing what to say, suggested that they should burn down\nthe forests of Ceylon so that the dragons could have no place to hide.\n\nUpon this the hosts of Ram declared that the monkey himself must\ngo over to put his plan into execution. So they dipped a long piece\nof cloth in oil and tied one end of it to the monkey's tail and set\nfire to the other end of it, and the monkey went over to the island\nand ran hither and thither dragging the flaming cloth behind him and\nsetting the forests on fire everywhere he went, until all the forests\nof Ceylon were in flames.\n\nBefore he could get back to his companions he saw with dismay that\nthe cloth was nearly burnt out, and the heat from the fire behind him\nbegan to singe his long hair; whereupon, fearing to be burnt alive,\nhe plunged into the sea and the flames were extinguished. From that\ntime the monkey's hair has been grey and short as a sign that he once\nset the forests of Ceylon on fire.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXXIII\n\nTHE LEGEND OF KA PANSHANDI, THE LAZY TORTOISE\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a young tortoise near a large pool. She\nwas very ill-favoured and ugly in appearance and very foolish,\nas well as being of a lazy disposition, and, like all lazy people,\nshe was slovenly and dirty in her habits. Her name was Ka Panshandi.\n\nThe pool near which she lived being very clear, the stars and other\nheavenly bodies often gazed into it to behold their own images. At\ntimes the reflection of countless shining, blinking stars would\nbe visible in the placid waters till the pool looked like a little\npart of the sky. At such times Ka Panshandi took immense delight in\nplunging into the pool, darting backwards and forwards and twirling\nround the bright silvery spots with great glee and contentment.\n\nAmong those who came frequently to gaze at themselves in the pool was\nU Lurmangkhara, the brightest of all the stars; he began to notice\nthe playful gambols of Ka Panshandi in the water and to admire her\ntwirling motions. He lived so far away that he could not see her\nugliness, nor could he know that she was lazy and foolish. All he\nknew was that she exposed herself nightly to the chilly waters of\nthe pool in order (as he thought) to have the pleasure of being near\nthe images of the stars, which was very flattering to his vanity. If\nshe was so strongly attracted by their images, he thought to himself,\nhow much more would she adore the real live stars if she were brought\ninto contact with them.\n\nU Lurmangkhara fell deeply in love with her, and determined to go\ndown to the earth to marry her and to endow her with all his wealth,\nfor he was very rich and had always lived in great splendour.\n\nWhen his relations and friends heard of his purpose, they were much\ndisturbed, and they came to remonstrate with him against what they\nconsidered to be a very rash and risky step--to go to a foreign land\nto make his home and to mate with an unknown consort whose habits and\noutlook on life might be altogether alien to him. But U Lurmangkhara\nwould listen to no counsel. Persons in love never take heed of other\npeople's advice. Down to the earth he came, and there married Ka\nPanshandi and endowed her with all his wealth.\n\nWhen Ka Panshandi found herself a rich wife, having unexpectedly won\none of the noblest husbands in the world, her vanity knew no bounds,\nand she grew more indolent and idle than ever. Her house was squalid,\nand she minded not when even her own body was daubed with mud, and\nshe felt no shame to see her husband's meals served off unscoured\nplatters. U Lurmangkhara was very disappointed; being patient and\ngentle, he tried by kind words to teach his wife to amend her ways,\nbut it was of no avail. Gradually he grew discontented and spoke\nangrily to her, but she remained as callous and as indifferent as\never, for it is easier to turn even a thief from stealing than to\ninduce a sluggard to renounce his sloth. He threatened to leave her,\nher neighbours also repeatedly warned her that she would lose her good\nhusband unless she altered her ways, but she remained as unconcerned\nas ever. At last, driven to despair, U Lurmangkhara gathered together\nall his wealth and went back to his home in the sky.\n\nKa Panshandi was filled with remorse and grief when she found that\nher husband had departed. She called piteously after him, promising\nto reform if he would only return, but it was too late. He never came\nback, and she was left to her squalor and her shame.\n\nTo this day Ka Panshandi is still hoping to see U Lurmangkhara coming\nback to the earth, and she is seen crawling about mournfully, with\nher neck outstretched towards the sky in expectation of his coming,\nbut there is no sign of his return, and her life is dull and joyless.\n\nAfter these events Ka Panshandi's name became a mockery and a proverb\nin the land; ballads were sung setting forth her fate as a warning\nto lazy and thriftless wives. To the present day a forsaken wife who\nentertains hope of her husband's return is likened by the Khasis to\nKa Panshandi in her expectant attitude with her head lifted above\nher shell: \"Ka Panshandi dem-lor-khah.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXXIV\n\nTHE IDIOT AND THE HYNDET BREAD\n\n\nLong, long ago there lived on the Khasi Hills a certain widow with her\nonly son, a lad possessed of great personal beauty, who was mentally\ndeficient, and was known in the village as \"U Bieit\" (the idiot).\n\nThe mother, being very poor and having neither kith nor kin to help\nher, was obliged to go out to work every day to support herself and\nher hapless child, so he was left to his own devices, roaming at\nlarge in the village. In this way he grew up to be very troublesome\nto his neighbours, for he often broke into their houses to forage\nfor something to eat and caused much damage and loss.\n\nLike most people of weak intellect, U Bieit showed wonderful cunning\nin some directions, especially in the matter of procuring some good\nthing to eat, and the way he succeeded in duping some of his more\nsagacious comrades in order to obtain some dainty tit-bits of food\nwas a matter of much amusement and merriment. But there were so many\nunpleasant incidents that people could not safely leave their houses,\nand matters at last became so serious that the widow was ordered to\nleave the village on his account.\n\nShe sought admission into many of the surrounding villages, but the\nfame of U Bieit had travelled before him and no one was willing to\nlet them dwell in their midst. So in great distress she took him down\nto the plains, where there was a big river along which many boats\nused to sail. Here she mournfully determined to abandon him, hoping\nthat some of the wealthy merchants who often passed that way might\nbe attracted by his good looks and take him into their company. She\ngave him some rice cakes to eat when he should be hungry, and told\nhim to be a good boy and stay by the river-side, and she would bring\nhim more cakes next day.\n\nThe boy thoroughly appreciated the promise of more cakes, so was quite\nwilling to be left by the river, but he felt lonely and uncomfortable\nin his strange surroundings after his mother had gone, and whenever\na boat came in sight he ran into the thickets to hide. By and by\na large boat was seen approaching with great white sails, which\nfrightened him greatly and sent him running into a thicket with all\nhis might. It happened that a wealthy merchant was returning from\na journey, and landed to take food close to the hiding-place of U\nBieit. The servants were going backward and forward into the boat\nwhile preparing their master's food, and, fearing lest some of them\nmight tamper with his chest of gold nuggets, he ordered them to carry\nit ashore, and buried it in the sands close to where he sat.\n\nJust as he finished his repast a heavy shower came on, and the\nmerchant hurried to the shelter of his boat; in his haste he forgot\nall about the chest of gold buried in the sands, and the boat sailed\naway without it.\n\nAll this time the idiot boy was watching the proceedings with great\ncuriosity and a longing to share the tempting meal, but fear of\nthe boat with white sails kept him from showing himself. However,\nas soon as the boat was out of sight, he came out of the thicket and\nbegan to unearth the buried chest. When he saw the gold nuggets he\nthought they were some kind of cakes, and, putting one in his mouth,\nhe tried to eat it. Finding it so hard, he decided that it must have\nbeen unbaked, and his poor marred mind flew at once to his mother,\nwho always baked food for him at home, and, taking the heavy chest on\nhis back, he started through the forest to seek her, and his instinct,\nlike that of a homing pigeon, brought him safely to his mother's door.\n\nIt was quite dark when he reached the village, so that nobody saw him,\nbut his mother was awake crying and lamenting her own hard fate which\nhad driven her to desert her unfortunate child. As she cried she\nkept saying to herself that if only she possessed money she could\nhave obtained the goodwill of her neighbours and been permitted to\nlive with her boy in the village. She was surprised to hear sounds of\nshuffling at her door resembling the shuffling of her forsaken boy;\nshe got up hurriedly to see who it was, and was relieved and joyful\nto find him come back to her alive.\n\nShe marvelled when she saw him carrying a heavy chest on his shoulders,\nand she could get but little light from his incoherent speech as to\nhow he had obtained possession of it, but her eyes glittered with\ndelight when she saw that it was full of gold nuggets. She allowed the\nlad to keep his delusion that they were cakes, and to pacify him she\ntook some rice and made some savoury cakes for him, pretending that\nshe was baking the strange cakes from the chest. After eating these,\nhe went to sleep satisfied and happy.\n\nNow the widow had been longing for gold all her life long, saying that\nshe wanted it to provide better comforts for the son who could not look\nafter himself, but the moment the gold came into her possession her\nheart was filled with greed. Not only was she not willing to part with\nany of the nuggets to obtain the favour of the villagers for her son,\nbut she was planning to send him abroad again to search for more gold,\nregardless of the perils to which he would be exposed. She called\nhim up before daybreak, and, giving him some rice cakes in a bag,\nshe told him to go again to the river-side and to bring home more\nboxes of cakes for her to bake.\n\nSo the boy started out on his fruitless errand, but soon lost his\nway in the jungle; he could find the path neither to the river nor\nto his mother's house, so he wandered about disconsolate and hungry\nin the dense woods, searching for hidden chests and unbaked cakes.\n\nIn that forest many fairies had their haunts, but they were invisible\nto mankind. They knew all about the idiot boy and his sad history,\nand a great pity welled up in their hearts when they saw how the lust\nfor gold had so corrupted his mother's feelings that she sent him alone\nand unprotected into the dangers of that great forest. They determined\nto try and induce him to accompany them to the land of the fairies,\nwhere he would be guarded from all harm and where willing hands would\nminister to all his wants.\n\nSo seven of the fairies transformed themselves into the likeness\nof mankind and put on strong wings like the wings of great eagles,\nand came to meet U Bieit in the jungle. By this time he had become\nexhausted with want of food, and as soon as he saw the fairies he\ncalled out eagerly to ask if they had any food, to which they replied\nthat they had only some Hyndet bread (kpu Hyndet) which had been\nbaked by the fairies in heaven; and when they gave him some of it,\nhe ate it ravenously and held out his hand for more. This was just\nwhat the fairies wanted, for no human being can be taken to fairyland\nexcept of his own free will. So they said that they had no more to\ngive in that place, but if he liked to come with them to the land of\nthe fairies beyond the Blue Realm, he could have abundance of choice\nfood and Hyndet cakes. He expressed his readiness to go at once,\nand asked them how he should get there. They told him to take hold of\ntheir wings, to cling firmly, and not to talk on the way; so he took\nhold of the wings of the fairies and the ascent to fairyland began.\n\nNow as they flew upwards there were many beautiful sights which gave\nthe fairies great delight as they passed. They saw the glories of\nthe highest mountains, and the endless expanse of forest and waters,\nand the fleeting shadows of the clouds, and the brilliant colours\nof the rainbow, dazzling in their transient beauty. But the idiot\nboy saw nothing of these things; his simple mind was absorbed in the\none thought--food. When they had ascended to a great height and the\nborders of fairyland came into view, U Bieit could no longer repress\nhis curiosity, and, forgetting all about the caution not to speak,\nhe asked the fairies eagerly, \"Will the Hyndet cakes be big?\" As soon\nas he uttered the words he lost his hold on the fairies' wings and,\nfalling to the earth with great velocity, he died.\n\nThe Khasis relate this story mainly as a warning not to impose\nresponsible duties on persons incapable of performing them, and not\nto raise people into high positions which they are not fitted to fill.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXXV\n\nU RAMHAH\n\n\nWhere is the country without its giant-story?\n\nAll through the ages the world has revelled in tales of the\nincomparable prowess and the unrivalled strength and stature of great\nand distinguished men whom we have learned to call giants. We trace\nthem from the days of Samson and Goliath, past the Knights of Arthur in\nthe \"Island of the Mighty\" and the great warriors of ancient Greece,\ndown to the mythland of our nursery days, where the exploits of the\nfamous \"Jack\" and his confederates filled us with wonder and awe. Our\nworld has been a world full of mighty men to whom all the nations\npay tribute, and the Khasis in their small corner are not behind the\nrest of the world in this respect, for they also have on record the\nexploits of a giant whose fate was as strange as that of any famous\ngiant in history.\n\nThe name of the Khasi giant was U Ramhah. He lived in a dark age,\nand his vision was limited, but according to his lights and the\nrequirements of his country and his generation, he performed great\nand wonderful feats, such as are performed by all orthodox giants all\nthe world over. He lifted great boulders, he erected huge pillars, he\nuprooted large trees, he fought wild beasts, he trampled on dragons,\nhe overcame armed hosts single-handed, he championed the cause of\nthe defenceless, and won for himself praise and renown.\n\nWhen his fame was at its height he smirched his reputation by his bad\nactions. After the great victory over U Thlen in the cave of Pomdoloi,\nhe became very uplifted and proud, and considered himself entitled to\nthe possessions of the Khasis. So instead of helping and defending\nhis neighbours as of yore, he began to oppress and to plunder them,\nand came to be regarded as a notorious highwayman, to be avoided and\ndreaded, who committed thefts and crimes wherever he went.\n\nAt this period he is described as a very tall and powerful man whose\nstature reached \"half way to the sky,\" and he always carried a soop\n(a large basket of plaited bamboo) on his back, into which he put all\nhis spoils, which were generally some articles of food or clothing. He\nbroke into houses, looted the markets and waylaid travellers. The\nplundered people used to run after him, clinging to his big soop, but\nhe used to beat them and sometimes kill them, and by reason of his\ngreat strength and long strides he always got away with his booty,\nleaving havoc and devastation behind him. He was so strong and so\nterrible that no one could check his crimes or impose any punishments.\n\nThere lived in the village of Cherra in those days a wealthy woman\ncalled Ka Bthuh, who had suffered much and often at the hands of U\nRamhah, and whose anger against him burnt red-hot. She had pleaded\nurgently with the men of her village to rise in a body to avenge her\nwrongs, but they always said that it was useless. Whenever she met U\nRamhah she insulted him by pointing and shaking her finger at him,\nsaying, \"You may conquer the strength of a man, but beware of the\ncunning of a woman.\" For this saying U Ramhah hated her, for it showed\nthat he had not been able to overawe her as everybody else had been\noverawed by him, and he raided her godowns more frequently than ever,\nnot dreaming that she was scheming to defeat him.\n\nOne day Ka Bthuh made a great feast; she sent invitations to many\nvillages far and near, for she wanted it to be as publicly known as\npossible in order to lure U Ramhah to attend. It was one of his rude\nhabits to go uninvited to feasts and to gobble up all the eatables\nbefore the invited guests had been helped.\n\nThe day of Ka Bthuh's feast came and many guests arrived, but before\nthe rice had been distributed there was a loud cry that U Ramhah\nwas marching towards the village. Everybody considered this very\nannoying, but Ka Bthuh, the hostess, pretended not to be disturbed,\nand told the people to let the giant eat as much as he liked first,\nand she would see that they were all helped later on. At this U\nRamhah laughed, thinking that she was beginning to be afraid of him,\nand he helped himself freely to the cooked rice and curry that was\nat hand. He always ate large mouthfuls, but at feast times he used\nto put an even greater quantity of rice into his mouth, just to make\nan impression and a show. Ka Bthuh had anticipated all this, and she\nstealthily put into the rice some sharp steel blades which the giant\nswallowed unsuspectingly.\n\nWhen he had eaten to his full content U Ramhah took his departure,\nand when he had gone out of earshot Ka Bthuh told the people what\nshe had done. They marvelled much at her cunning, and they all said\nit was a just deed to punish one whose crimes were so numerous and so\nflagrant, but who escaped penalty by reason of his great strength. From\nthat time Ka Bthuh won great praise and became famous.\n\nU Ramhah never reached his home from that feast. The sharp blades he\nhad swallowed cut his intestines and he died on the hill-side alone\nand unattended, as the wild animals die, and there was no one to\nregret his death.\n\nWhen the members of his clan heard of his death they came in a great\ncompany to perform rites and to cremate his body, but the body was\nso big that it could not be cremated, and so they decided to leave\nit till the flesh rotted, and to come again to gather together his\nbones. After a long time they came to gather the bones, but it was\nfound that there was no urn large enough to contain them, so they\npiled them together on the hill-side until a large urn could be made.\n\nWhile the making of the large urn was in progress there arose a great\nstorm, and a wild hurricane blew from the north, which carried away\nthe bleached bones of U Ramhah, and scattered them all over the south\nborders of the Khasi Hills, where they remain to this day in the\nform of lime-rocks, the many winding caves and crevices of which are\nsaid to be the cavities in the marrowless bones of the giant. Thus\nU Ramhah, who injured and plundered the Khasis in his life-time,\nbecame the source of inestimable wealth to them after his death.\n\nHis name is heard on every hearth, used as a proverb to describe\nobjects of abnormal size or people of abnormal strength.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXXVI\n\nHOW THE CAT CAME TO LIVE WITH MAN\n\n\nIn olden times Ka Miaw, the cat, lived in the jungle with her brother\nthe tiger, who was king of the jungle. She was very proud of her\nhigh pedigree and anxious to display the family greatness, and to\nlive luxuriously according to the manner of families of high degree;\nbut the tiger, although he was very famous abroad, was not at all\nmindful of the well-being and condition of his family, and allowed\nthem to be often in want. He himself, by his skill and great prowess,\nobtained the most delicate morsels for his own consumption, but as it\ninvolved trouble to bring booty home for his household, he preferred\nto leave what he did not want himself to rot on the roadside, or to\nbe eaten by any chance scavenger. Therefore, the royal larder was\noften very bare and empty.\n\nThus the cat was reduced to great privations, but so jealous was she\nfor the honour and good name of her house that, to hide her poverty\nfrom her friends and neighbours, she used to sneak out at night-time,\nwhen nobody could see her, in order to catch mice and frogs and other\ncommon vermin for food.\n\nOnce she ventured to speak to her brother on the matter, asking him\nwhat glory there was in being king if his family were obliged to\nwork and to fare like common folks. The tiger was so angered that she\nnever dared to approach the subject again, and she continued to live\nher hard life and to shield the family honour.\n\nOne day the tiger was unwell, and a number of his neighbours came to\nenquire after his health. Desiring to entertain them with tobacco,\naccording to custom, he shouted to his sister to light the hookah\nand to serve it round to the company. Now, even in the most ordinary\nhousehold, it is very contrary to good breeding to order the daughter\nof the house to serve the hookah, and Ka Miaw felt the disgrace keenly,\nand, hoping to excuse herself, she answered that there was no fire\nleft by which to light the hookah. This answer displeased the tiger\ngreatly, for he felt that his authority was being flouted before\nhis friends. He ordered his sister angrily to go to the dwelling of\nmankind to fetch a firebrand with which to light the hookah, and,\nfearing to be punished if she disobeyed, the cat ran off as she was\nbidden and came to the dwelling of mankind.\n\nSome little children were playing in the village, and when they saw\nKa Miaw they began to speak gently to her and to stroke her fur. This\nwas so pleasant to her feelings after the harsh treatment from her\nbrother that she forgot all about the firebrand and stayed to play\nwith the children, purring to show her pleasure.\n\nMeanwhile the tiger and his friends sat waiting impatiently for\nthe hookah that never came. It was considered a great privilege to\ndraw a whiff from the royal hookah; but seeing that the cat delayed\nher return, the visitors took their departure, and showed a little\nsullenness at not receiving any mark of hospitality in their king's\nhouse.\n\nThe tiger's anger against his sister was very violent, and, regardless\nof his ill-health, he went out in search of her. Ka Miaw heard him\ncoming, and knew from his growl that he was angry; she suddenly\nremembered her forgotten errand, and, hastily snatching a firebrand\nfrom the hearth, she started for home.\n\nHer brother met her on the way and began to abuse her, threatening to\nbeat her, upon which she threw down the firebrand at his feet in her\nfright and ran back to the abode of mankind, where she has remained\never since, supporting herself as of old by catching frogs and mice,\nand purring to the touch of little children.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXXVII\n\nHOW THE FOX GOT HIS WHITE BREAST\n\n\nOnce a fox, whose name was U Myrsiang, lived in a cave near the\nresidence of a Siem (Chief). This fox was a very shameless marauder,\nand had the impudence to conduct his raids right into the Siem's\nprivate barn-yard, and to devour the best of his flocks, causing him\nmuch annoyance and loss.\n\nThe Siem gave his servants orders to catch U Myrsiang, but though they\nlaid many traps and snares in his way he was so wily and so full of\ncunning that he managed to evade every pitfall, and to continue his\nraids on the Siem's flocks.\n\nOne of the servants, more ingenious than his fellows, suggested that\nthey should bring out the iron cage in which the Siem was wont to lock\nup state criminals, and try and wheedle the fox into entering it. So\nthey brought out the iron cage and set it open near the entrance to\nthe barn-yard, with a man on guard to watch.\n\nBy and by, U Myrsiang came walking by very cautiously, sniffing the\nair guardedly to try and discover if any hidden dangers lay in his\npath. He soon reached the cage, but it aroused no suspicion in him,\nfor it was so large and so unlike every trap he was familiar with\nthat he entered it without a thought of peril, and ere he was aware\nof his error, the man on guard had bolted the door behind him and\nmade him a prisoner.\n\nThere was great jubilation in the Siem's household when the capture\nof the fox was made known. The Siem himself was so pleased that he\ncommanded his servants to prepare a feast on the following day as a\nreward for their vigilance and ingenuity. He also gave orders not to\nkill the fox till the next day, and that he should be brought out of\nthe cage after the feast and executed in a public place as a warning\nto other thieves and robbers. So U Myrsiang was left to pine in his\nprison for that night.\n\nThe fox was very unhappy, as all people in confinement must be. He\nexplored the cage from end to end but found no passage of egress. He\nthought out many plans of escape, but not one of them could be put\ninto execution, and he was driven to face the doom of certain death. He\nwhined in his misery and despair, and roamed about the cage all night.\n\nSome time towards morning he was disturbed by the sounds of footsteps\noutside his cage, and, thinking that the Siem's men had come to kill\nhim, he lay very still, hardly venturing to breathe. To his relief\nthe new-comer turned out to be a belated traveller, who, upon seeing\na cage, sat down, leaning his weary body against the bars, while\nU Myrsiang kept very still, not wishing to disclose his presence\nuntil he found out something more about his unexpected companion,\nand hoping also to turn his coming to some good account.\n\nThe traveller was an outlaw driven away from a neighbouring state for\nsome offence, and was in great perplexity how to procure the permission\nof the Siem (into whose state he had now wandered) to dwell there and\nbe allowed to cultivate the land. Thinking that he was quite alone,\nhe began to talk to himself, not knowing that a wily fox was listening\nattentively to all that he was saying.\n\n\"I am a most unfortunate individual,\" said the stranger. \"I have been\ndriven away from my home and people, I have no money and no friends,\nand no belongings except this little polished mirror which no one is\nlikely to buy. I am so exhausted that if they drive me out of this\nState again I shall die of starvation on the roadside. If I could\nonly find a friend who could help me to win the favour of the Siem,\nso that I may be permitted to live here unmolested for a time, till\nmy trouble blows over!\"\n\nU Myrsiang's heart was beating very fast with renewed hope when he\nheard these words, and he tried to think of some way to delude the\nstranger to imagine that he was some one who had influence with the\nSiem, and to get the man to open the cage and let him out. So with\nall the cunning he was capable of, he accosted the man in his most\naffable and courteous manner:\n\n\"Friend and brother,\" he said, \"do not despair. I think I can put\nyou in the way, not only to win the Siem's favour, but to become a\nmember of his family.\"\n\nThe outlaw was greatly embarrassed when he discovered that some one\nhad overheard him talking. It was such a dark night he could not\nsee the fox, but thought that it was a fellow-man who had accosted\nhim. Fearing to commit himself further if he talked about himself,\nhe tried to divert the conversation away from himself, and asked his\ncompanion who he was and what he was doing alone in the cage at night.\n\nThe fox, nothing loth to monopolise the conversation, gave a most\nplausible account of his misfortunes, and his tale seemed so sincere\nand apparently true that it convinced the man on the instant.\n\n\"There is great trouble in this State,\" said U Myrsiang. \"The only\ndaughter of the Siem is sick, and according to the divinations she\nis likely to die unless she can be wedded before sunset to-morrow,\nand her bridegroom must be a native of some other State. The time was\ntoo short to send envoys to any of the neighbouring States to arrange\nfor the marriage, and as I happened to pass this way on a journey, the\nSiem's men forcibly detained me, on finding that I was a foreigner, and\nto-morrow they will compel me to marry the Siem's daughter, which is\nmuch against my will. If you open the door of this cage and let me out,\nyou may become the Siem's son-in-law by taking my place in the cage.\"\n\n\"What manner of man are you,\" asked the outlaw, \"that you should\ndisdain the honour of marrying the daughter of a Siem?\"\n\n\"You are mistaken to think that I disdain the honour,\" said the\nfox. \"If I had been single I should have rejoiced in the privilege,\nbut I am married already, and have a wife and family in my own village\nfar from here, and my desire is to be released so that I may return\nto them.\"\n\n\"In that case,\" replied the man, \"I think you are right to refuse,\nbut as for me it will be a most desirable union, and I shall be only\ntoo glad to exchange places with you.\"\n\nThereupon he opened the door of the cage and went in, while U Myrsiang\nslipped out, and bolted the door behind him.\n\nThe man was so pleased with his seeming good fortune that at parting\nhe took off his polished mirror which was suspended round his neck by\na silver chain, and begged his companion to accept it in remembrance\nof their short but strange encounter. As he was handing it to U\nMyrsiang, his hand came into contact with the fox's thick fur, and he\nrealised then that he had been duped, and had, owing to his credulity,\nreleased the most thieving rogue in the forest. Regrets were vain. He\nwas firmly imprisoned within the cage, while he heard the laughter\nof U Myrsiang echoing in the distance as he hurried away to safety,\ntaking the polished mirror with him.\n\nThe fox was well aware that it was unsafe for him to remain any longer\nin that locality, so, after fastening the mirror firmly round his neck,\nhe hastened away with all speed, and did not halt till he came to a\nremote and secluded part of the jungle, where he stopped to take his\nbreath and to rest.\n\nUnknown to U Myrsiang, a big tiger was lying in wait for prey in that\npart of the jungle, and, upon seeing the fox, made ready to spring\nupon him. But the fox, hearing some noise, turned round suddenly,\nand by that movement the polished mirror came right in front of the\ntiger's face. The tiger saw in it the reflection of his own big jaws\nand flaming eyes, from which he slunk away in terror, thinking that U\nMyrsiang was some great tiger-demon haunting the jungle in the shape\nof a fox, and from that time the tiger has never been known to attack\nthe fox.\n\nOne day, when hotly pursued by hunters, the fox plunged into a deep\nriver. As he swam across, the flood carried away his polished mirror,\nbut the stamp of it remains to this day on his breast in the form of\na patch of white fur.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXXVIII\n\nHOW THE TIGER GOT HIS STRENGTH\n\n\nAfter the animals were created they were sent to live in the jungle,\nbut they were so foolish that they got into one another's way and\ninterfered one with another and caused much inconvenience in the\nworld. In order to produce better order, the Bleis (gods) called\ntogether a Durbar to decide on the different qualities with which it\nwould be well to endow the animals, so as to make them intelligent\nand able to live in harmony with one another. After this, mankind\nand all the animals were summoned to the presence of the Bleis,\nand each one was given such intelligence and sense as seemed best to\nsuit his might and disposition: the man received beauty and wisdom,\nand to the tiger were given craftiness and the power to walk silently.\n\nWhen the man returned to his kindred, and his mother beheld him, her\nheart was lifted with pride, for she knew that the Bleis had given to\nhim the best of their gifts, and that henceforth all the animals would\nbe inferior to him in beauty and intelligence. Realising with regret\nthat he had not received physical strength equal to the beauty of his\nperson, and that consequently his life would be always in danger, she\ntold her son to go back to the Bleis to ask for the gift of strength.\n\nThe man went back to the Bleis according to the command of his\nmother, but it was so late when he arrived that the Bleis were about\nto retire. Seeing that he was comelier than any of the animals and\npossessed more wisdom, which made him worthy of the gift of strength,\nthey told him to come on the morrow and they would bestow upon him\nthe desired gift. The man was dismissed till the following day, but\nhe went away happy in his mind, knowing that the Bleis would not go\nback on their word.\n\nNow it happened that the tiger was roaming about in that vicinity,\nand by reason of his silent tread he managed to come unobserved\nnear enough to hear the Bleis and the man talking about the gift of\nstrength. He determined to forestall the man on the morrow, and to\nobtain the gift of strength for himself; soon he slunk away lest it\nshould be discovered that he had been listening.\n\nEarly on the following morning, before the Bleis had come forth\nfrom their retirement, the tiger went to their abode and sent in\na messenger to say that he had come according to their command to\nobtain the gift of strength, upon which the Bleis endowed him with\nstrength twelve times greater than what he had before possessed,\nthinking that they were bestowing it upon the man.\n\nThe tiger felt himself growing strong, and as soon as he left the\nabode of the Bleis, he leaped forward twelve strides, and twelve\nstrides upward, and so strong was he that it was unto him but as one\nshort stride. Then he knew that he had truly forestalled the man, and\nhad obtained the gift of strength, and could overcome men in battle.\n\nLater in the day, in accordance with the command he had received,\nthe man set out for the abode of the Bleis, but on the way the\ntiger met him and challenged him to fight, and began to leap and\nbound upwards and forwards to show how strong he was, and said that\nhe had received the \"twelve strengths\" and no one would be able to\nwithstand him. He was just about to spring when the man evaded him,\nand ran away towards the abode of the Bleis. When he came there and\npresented himself before them, they asked him angrily, \"Why dost\nthou come again to trouble us? We have already given thee the gift\nof strength.\" Then the man knew that the tiger's boast was true,\nand he told the Bleis of his encounter with the tiger on the way,\nand of his boast that he had obtained the gift of strength. They were\ngreatly annoyed that deception had been practised on them, but there\nis no decree by which to recall a gift when once it has been bestowed\nby the Bleis. They looked upon the man with pity, and said that one\nso beautiful and full of wisdom should not be left defenceless at\nthe mercy of the inferior animals. So they gave unto him a bow and an\narrow, and told him, \"When the tiger attacks thee with his strength,\nshoot, and the arrow will pierce his body and kill him. Behold, we\nhave given to thee the gift of skill to make and to use weapons of\nwarfare whereby thou wilt be able to combat the lower animals.\"\n\nThus the tiger received strength, and man received the gift of\nskill. The mother of mankind, when she saw it, told her sons to\nabstain from using their weapons against one another, but to turn\nthem against the animals only, according to the decree of the Bleis.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXXIX\n\nWHY THE GOAT LIVES WITH MANKIND\n\n\nIn early times the goat lived in the jungle, leading a free and\nindependent life, like all the other animals. The following story\ngives an account of her flight from the animals to make her dwelling\nwith Man.\n\nOne fine spring day, when the young leaves were sprouting on the forest\ntrees, Ka Blang, the goat, went out in search of food. Her appetite was\nsharpened by the delicious smell of the spring, which filled the air\nand the forest, so, not being satisfied with grass, she began to pluck\nthe green leaves from a bush. While she was busy plucking and eating,\nshe was startled to hear the deep growl of the tiger close beside her.\n\nThe tiger asked her angrily, \"What art thou doing there?\"\n\nKa Blang was so upset by this sudden interruption, and in such fear\nof the big and ferocious beast, that she began to tremble from head\nto foot, so that even her beard shook violently, and she hardly knew\nwhat she was doing or saying. In her fright she quavered:\n\n\"I am eating khla\" (a tiger), instead of saying, \"I am eating sla\"\n(leaves).\n\nThe tiger took this answer for insolence and became very angry. He\nwas preparing to spring upon her when he caught sight of her shaking\nbeard, which appeared to him like the tuft of hair on a warrior's\nlance when it is lifted against an enemy. He thought that Ka Blang\nmust be some powerful and savage beast able to attack him, and he\nran away from her in terror.\n\nNow Ka Blang, having an ungrateful heart, instead of being thankful\nfor her deliverance, grew discontented with her lot, and began to\ngrumble because she had not been endowed with the strength attributed\nto her by the tiger, and she went about bewailing her inferiority.\n\nOne day, in her wanderings, she climbed to the top of an overhanging\ncliff, and there she lay down to chew the cud, and, as usual, to dwell\non her grievances. It happened that the tiger was again prowling in the\nsame vicinity, but when he saw the goat approaching he fled in fear,\nand hid himself under the very cliff on to which she had climbed. There\nhe lay very still, for fear of betraying his presence to the goat,\nfor he was still under the delusion that she was a formidable and\nmighty animal. Ka Blang, all unconscious of his presence, began to\ngrumble aloud, saying:\n\n\"I am the poorest and the weakest of all the beasts, without any means\nof defence or strength to withstand an attack. I have neither tusks\nnor claws to make an enemy fear me. It is true that the tiger once ran\naway from me because he mistook my beard for a sign of strength; but\nif he had only known the truth he would have killed me on the instant,\nfor even a small dog could kill me if he clutched me by the throat.\"\n\nThe tiger, beneath the rock, was listening to every word, and,\nas he listened, his wrath was greatly kindled to find that he had\ndisgraced himself by running away from such a contemptible creature,\nand he determined now to avenge himself for that humiliation. He\ncrept stealthily from his hiding-place, and, ere she was aware of\nhis approach, Ka Blang was clutched by the throat and killed.\n\nIn order to restore his prestige, the tiger proclaimed far and wide\nhow he had captured and killed the goat, and after that other tigers\nand savage beasts began to hunt the goats, and there followed such\na general slaughter of goats that they were nearly exterminated.\n\nDriven to great extremity, the few remaining goats held a tribal\ncouncil to consider how to save themselves from the onslaughts of the\ntigers, but, finding themselves powerless to offer any resistance,\nthey determined to apply to mankind for protection. When they came to\nhim, Man said that he could not come to the jungle to defend them,\nbut they must come and live in his village if they wished to be\nprotected by him. So the goats ran away from the jungle for ever,\nand came to live with mankind.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXXX\n\nHOW THE OX CAME TO BE THE SERVANT OF MAN\n\n\nWhen mankind first came to live upon the earth, they committed many\nblunders, for they were ignorant and wasteful, not knowing how to\nshift for themselves, and having no one to teach them. The Deity who\nwas watching their destinies saw their misfortunes and pitied them,\nfor he saw that unless their wastefulness ceased they would perish\nof want when they multiplied and became numerous in the world. So\nthe Deity called to him the ox, who was a strong and patient animal,\nand sent him as a messenger to mankind, to bless them, and to show\nthem how to prosper.\n\nThe ox had to travel a long way in the heat, and was much worried by\nthe flies that swarmed round his path and the small insects that clung\nto his body and sucked his blood. Then a crow alighted on his back\nand began to peck at the insects, upon which it loved to feed; this\neased the ox greatly, and he was very pleased to see the crow, and he\ntold her where he was going, as a messenger from the Deity to mankind.\n\nThe crow was very interested when she heard this, and questioned him\nminutely about the message he had been sent to deliver, and the ox\ntold her all that he had been commanded to say to mankind--how he was\nto give them the blessing of the Deity and to warn them not to waste\nthe products of the earth lest they died of want. They must learn to\nbe thrifty and careful so that they might live to be old and wise,\nand they were to boil only sufficient rice for each meal, so as not\nto waste their food.\n\nWhen the crow heard this she was much disturbed, for she saw that\nthere would be no leavings for the crows if mankind followed these\ninjunctions. So she said to the ox, \"Will you repay my kindness to you\nin destroying the insects that worry you by giving a message like that\nto mankind to deprive me of my accustomed spoil?\" She begged of him to\nteach mankind to cook much rice always, and to ordain many ceremonies\nto honour their dead ancestors by offering rice to the gods, so that\nthe crows and the other birds might have abundance to eat. Thus,\nbecause she had eased his torments, the ox listened to her words,\nand when he came to mankind he delivered only part of the message of\nthe Deity, and part of the message of the crow.\n\nWhen the time came for the ox to return, a great fear overcame\nhim as he approached the abode of the Deity, for he saw that he had\ngreatly trespassed and that the Deity would be wrathful. In the hope of\nobtaining forgiveness, he at once confessed his wrong-doing, how he had\nbeen tempted by the crow, and had delivered the wrong message. This\nconfession did not mitigate the anger of the Deity, for he arose,\nand, with great fury, he struck the ox such a blow on the mouth that\nall his upper teeth fell out, and another blow behind the ribs which\nmade a great hollow there, and he drove the disobedient animal from\nhis presence, to seek pasture and shelter wherever he could find them.\n\nAfter this the ox came back sorrowfully to mankind, and for food and\nfor shelter he offered to become their servant; and, because he was\nstrong and patient, mankind allowed him to become their servant.\n\nEver since he was struck by the Deity the ox has had no teeth in\nthe upper jaw, and the hollow behind his ribs remains to this day;\nit can never be filled up, however much grass and grain he eats,\nfor it is the mark of the fist of the Deity.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXXXI\n\nTHE LOST BOOK\n\n\nAfter mankind began to multiply on the earth and had become numerous,\nand scattered into many regions, they lost much of their knowledge of\nthe laws of God, and in their ignorance they committed many mistakes\nin their mode of worship, each one worshipping in his own way after\nhis own fancy, without regard to what was proper and acceptable in\nthe sight of God.\n\nIn order to restore their knowledge and to reform their mode of\nworship, the Great God commanded a Khasi man and a foreigner to appear\nbefore Him on a certain day, upon a certain mountain, the name of\nwhich is not known, that they might learn His laws and statutes.\n\nSo the Khasi and the foreigner went into the mountain and appeared\nbefore God. They remained with Him three days and three nights,\nand He revealed unto them the mode of worship.\n\nThe Great God wrote His laws in books, and at the end of the third\nday He gave unto each man a book of the holy law, and said unto them:\n\"This is sufficient unto you; return unto your own people; behold,\nI have written all that is needful for you to know in this book. Take\nit, and read it, and teach it to your kindred that they may learn\nhow to be wise and holy and happy for ever.\" The two men took their\nbooks and departed as they were commanded.\n\nBetween the mountain and their homeland there lay a wide river. On\ntheir way thither they had waded through it without any difficulty,\nfor the water was low, but on their return journey they found the river\nin flood and the water so deep that they had to swim across. They\nwere sorely perplexed how to keep their sacred books safe and dry;\nbeing devoid of clothing, the men found it difficult to protect them\nor to cover them safely. The foreigner had long hair, and he took his\nbook and wrapped it in his long hair, which he twisted firmly on the\ntop of his head; but the hair of the Khasi was short, so he could\nnot follow the example of the foreigner, and, not able to think of\na better plan, he took the book between his teeth.\n\nThe foreigner swam across safely, with his book undamaged, and he\nwent home to his kindred joyfully and taught them wisdom and the mode\nof worship.\n\nThe Khasi, after swimming part of the way, began to flounder, for\nthe current was strong, and his breathing was impeded by the book in\nhis mouth. His head went under water, and the book was reduced to a\nworthless pulp. He was in great trouble when he saw that the book\nwas destroyed. He determined to return to the mountain to ask the\nGreat God for a new book, so he swam back across the wide river and\nclimbed again to the mountain; but when he reached the place where\nhe had before met God, he found that He had ascended into heaven,\nand he had to return empty-handed.\n\nWhen he reached his own country, he summoned together all his kindred\nand told them all that had happened. They were very sad when they heard\nthat the book was lost, and bewildered because they had no means of\nenlightenment. They resolved to call a Durbar of all the Khasis to\nconsider how they could carry on their worship in a becoming way and\nwith some uniformity, so as to secure for themselves the three great\nblessings of humanity--health, wealth, and families.\n\nSince that day the Khasis have depended for their knowledge of sacred\nworship on the traditions that have come down from one generation\nto the other from their ancestors who sat in the great Durbar after\nthe sacred book was lost, while the foreigners learn how to worship\nfrom books.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXXXII\n\nTHE BLESSING OF THE MENDICANT\n\n\nPART I\n\nOnce there lived a very poor family, consisting of a father, mother,\nan only son, and his wife. They were poorer than any of their\nneighbours, and were never free from want; they seldom got a full\nmeal, and sometimes they had to go without food for a whole day,\nwhile their clothes but barely covered their bodies. No matter how\nhard they worked, or where they went to cultivate, their crops never\nsucceeded like the crops of their fellow-cultivators in the same\nlocality. But they were good people, and never grumbled or blamed\nthe gods, neither did they ask alms of any one, but continued to\nwork season after season, contented with their poor fare and their\nhalf-empty cooking-pots.\n\nOne day an aged mendicant belonging to a foreign tribe wandered into\ntheir village, begging for food at every house and for a night's\nshelter. But nobody pitied him or gave him food. Last of all, he\ncame to the dwelling of the poor family, where, as usual, they had\nnot enough food to satisfy their own need, yet when they saw the\naged beggar standing outside in the cold, their hearts were filled\nwith pity. They invited him to enter, and they shared their scanty\nmeal with him. \"Come,\" they said, \"we have but little to give you,\nit is true, but it is not right to leave a fellow-man outside to\nstarve to death.\" So he lodged with them that night.\n\nIt happened that the daughter-in-law was absent that night, so that\nthe stranger saw only the parents and their son.\n\nNext morning, when he was preparing to depart, the mendicant spoke many\nwords of peace and goodwill to the family, and blessed them solemnly,\nexpressing his sympathy with them in their poverty and privation. \"You\nhave good hearts,\" he said, \"and have not hesitated to entertain a\nstranger, and have shared with the poor what you yourselves stood\nin need of. If you wish, I will show you a way by which you may grow\nrich and prosperous.\"\n\nThey were very glad to hear this, for their long struggle with poverty\nwas becoming harder and harder to bear, and they responded eagerly,\nsaying, \"Show us the way.\"\n\nUpon this the mendicant opened a small sack which he carried, and took\nfrom it a small live coney, which he handed tenderly to the housewife,\nsaying, \"This little animal was given to me years ago by a holy man,\nwho told me that if I killed it and cooked its meat for my food I\nshould grow rich. But by keeping the animal alive for many days I\nbecame so fond of it that I could not kill it. Now I am old and weak,\nthe day of my death cannot be far off; at my death perhaps the coney\nmay fall into the hands of unscrupulous persons, so I give it to you\nwho are worthy. Do not keep it alive as I did, otherwise you will not\nbe able to kill it and so will never reap the fruits of the virtue it\npossesses. When wealth comes to you, beware of its many temptations\nand continue to live virtuously as at present.\"\n\nHe also warned them not to divulge the secret to any one outside the\nfamily, or to let any outsiders taste of the magic meat.\n\nWhen they were alone, the family began to discuss with wonder the\nwords spoken by the mysterious stranger about the strange animal\nthat had been left in their possession. They determined to act on the\nadvice of their late guest, and to kill the coney on that very day,\nand that the mother should stay at home from her work in the fields\nto cook the meat against the return of the men in the evening.\n\nLeft to herself, the housewife began to paint glowing pictures of the\nfuture, when the family would cease to be in want, and would have\nno need to labour for their food, but would possess abundance of\nluxuries, and be the envy of all their neighbours. As she abandoned\nherself to these idle dreams, the evil spirit of avarice entered her\nheart unknown to her, and changed her into a hard and pitiless woman,\ndestroying all the generous impulses which had sustained her in all\ntheir years of poverty and made her a contented and amiable neighbour.\n\nSome time in the afternoon the daughter-in-law returned home, and,\nnoticing a very savoury smell coming from the cooking-pot, she asked\nher mother-in-law pleasantly what good luck had befallen them, that\nshe had such a good dinner in preparation. To her surprise, instead\nof a kind and gentle answer such as she had always received from her\nmother-in-law, she was answered by a torrent of abuse and told that\nshe was not to consider herself a member of the family, or to expect\na share of the dinner, which a holy man had provided for them.\n\nThis unmerited unkindness hurt and vexed the younger woman, but,\nas it is not right to contradict a mother-in-law, she refrained from\nmaking any reply, and sat meekly by the fire, and in silence watched\nthe process of cooking going on. She was very hungry, having come from\na long journey, and, knowing that there was no other food in the house\nexcept that which her mother-in-law was cooking, she determined to try\nand obtain a little of it unobserved. When the elder woman left the\nhouse for a moment she snatched a handful of meat from the pan and ate\nit quickly, but her mother-in-law caught her chewing, and charged her\nwith having eaten the meat. As she did not deny it, her mother-in-law\nbegan to beat her unmercifully, and turned her out of doors in anger.\n\nThe ill-treated woman crawled along the path by which her husband\nwas expected to arrive, and sat on the ground, weeping, to await his\ncoming. When he arrived he marvelled to see his wife crying on the\nroadside, and asked her the reason for it. She was too upset to answer\nhim for a long time, but when at last she was able to make herself\narticulate, she told him all that his mother had done to her. He became\nvery wroth, and said, \"If my mother thinks more of gaining wealth than\nof respecting my wife, I will leave my mother's house for ever,\" and he\nstrode away, taking only a brass lota (water vessel) for his journey.\n\n\n\nPART II\n\nThe husband and wife wandered about in the jungle for many days,\nliving on any wild herbs or roots that they could pick up on their\nway, but all those days they did not see a village or a sign of a\nhuman habitation.\n\nOne day they happened to come to a very dry and barren hill, where they\ncould get no water, and they began to suffer from thirst. In this arid\nplace a son was born to them, and the young mother seemed likely to\ndie for want of water. The husband roamed in every direction, but saw\nno water anywhere, until he climbed to the top of a tall tree in order\nto survey the country, and to his joy saw in the distance a pool of\nclear water. He hastened down and fetched his lota, and proceeded in\nthe direction of the pool. The jungle was so dense that he was afraid\nof losing his way, so in order to improvise some sort of landmark,\nhe tore his dottie (loin-cloth) into narrow strips which he hung on\nthe bushes as he went.\n\nAfter a long time he reached the pool, where he quenched his thirst\nand was refreshed. Then he filled his lota to return to his languishing\nwife, but was tempted to take a plunge in the cool water of the pool,\nfor he was hot and dusty from his toilsome walk. Putting his lota on\nthe ground and laying his clothes beside it, he plunged into the water,\nintending to stay only a few minutes.\n\nNow it happened that a great dragon, called U Yak Jakor, lived in\nthe pool, and he rose to the surface upon seeing the man, dragged\nhim down to the bottom, and devoured him.\n\nThe anxious wife, parched with thirst, waited expectantly for the\nreturn of her husband, but, seeing no sign of him, she determined to\ngo in search of him. So, folding her babe in a cloth, which she tied\non her back, she began to trace the path along which she had seen her\nhusband going, and by the help of the strips of cloth on the bushes,\nshe came at last to the spot where her husband's lota and his clothes\nhad been left.\n\nAt sight of these she was filled with misgivings, and, failing to\nsee her husband anywhere, she began to call out his name, searching\nfor him in all directions. There were no more strips of cloth, so\nshe knew that he had not gone farther.\n\nWhen U Yak Jakor heard the woman calling, he came up to the surface\nof the pool, and seeing she was a woman, and alone, he drew near,\nintending to force her into the water, for the dragon who was the\nmost powerful of all the dragons inside the pool lost his strength\nwhenever he stood on dry land, and could then do no harm to any one.\n\nIn her confusion and fear on account of her husband, the woman did not\ntake much notice of U Yak Jakor when he came, but shouted to him to\nask if he had not seen a man passing that way; to which he replied\nthat a man had come, who had been taken to the palace of the king\nbeneath the pool. When she heard this she knew that they had come to\nthe pool of U Yak Jakor, and, looking more closely at the being that\nhad approached her, she saw that he was a dragon. She knew also that\nU Yak Jakor had no strength on dry land, and she lifted her arm with\na threatening gesture, upon which he dived into the pool.\n\nBy these tokens the woman understood that her husband had been killed\nby the dragon. Taking up the lota and his clothes, she hurried from\nthe fatal spot and beyond the precincts of the dragon's pool, and,\nafter coming to a safe and distant part of the jungle, she threw\nherself down on the ground in an abandonment of grief. She cried\nso loud and so bitterly that her babe awoke and cried in sympathy;\nto her astonishment she saw that his tears turned into lumps of gold\nas they fell. She knew this to be a token that the blessing of the\nmendicant, of which her husband had spoken, had rested upon her boy\nby virtue of the meat she had eaten.\n\nThis knowledge cheered and comforted her greatly, for she felt\nless defenceless and lonely in the dreary forest. After refreshing\nherself with water from the lota, she set out in search of some\nhuman habitation, and after a weary search she came at last to a\nlarge village, where the Siem (Chief) of that region lived, who,\nseeing that she possessed much gold, permitted her to dwell there.\n\n\n\nPART III\n\nThe boy was named U Babam Doh, because of the meat which his mother\nhad eaten. The two lived very happily in this village, the mother\nleading an industrious life, for she did not wish to depend for their\nliving on the gold gained at the expense of her son's tears. Neither\ndid she desire it to become known that he possessed the magic power\nto convert his tears into gold, so she instructed her boy never to\nweep in public, and on every occasion when he might be driven to\ncry, she told him to go into some secret place where nobody could\nwitness the golden tears. And so anxious was she not to give him any\navoidable cause of grief that she concealed from him the story of her\npast sufferings and his father's tragic fate, and hid from sight the\nbrass lota and the clothes she had found by the dragon's pool.\n\nU Babam Doh grew up a fine and comely boy, in whom his mother's\nheart delighted; he was strong of body and quick of intellect,\nso that none of the village lads could compete with him, either\nat work or at play. Among his companions was the Heir-apparent of\nthe State, a young lad about his own age, who, by reason of the\nmany accomplishments of U Babam Doh, showed him great friendliness\nand favour, so that the widow's son was frequently invited to the\nSiem's house, and was privileged to attend many of the great State\nfunctions and Durbars. Thus he unconsciously became familiar with\nState questions, and gleaned much knowledge and wisdom, so that he\ngrew up enlightened and discreet beyond many of his comrades.\n\nOne day, during the Duali (Hindu gambling festival), his friend the\nHeir-apparent teased him to join in the game. He had no desire to\nindulge in any games of luck, and he was ignorant of the rules of\nall such games, but he did not like to offend his friend by refusing,\nso he went with him to the gambling field and joined in the play.\n\nAt first the Heir-apparent, who was initiating him into the game,\nplayed for very small stakes, but, to their mutual surprise, U Babam\nDoh the novice won at every turn. The Heir-apparent was annoyed at the\ncontinual success of his friend, for he himself had been looked upon\nas the champion player at previous festivals, so, thinking to daunt\nthe spirit of U Babam Doh, he challenged him to risk higher stakes,\nwhich, contrary to his expectation, were accepted, and again U Babam\nDoh won. They played on until at last the Heir-apparent had staked\nand lost all his possessions; he grew so reckless that in the end he\nstaked his own right of succession to the throne, and lost.\n\nThere was great excitement and commotion when it became known that\nthe Heir-apparent had gambled away his birthright; people left their\nown games, and from all parts of the field they flocked to where the\ntwo young men stood. When the Heir-apparent saw that the people were\nunanimous in blaming him for so recklessly throwing away what they\nconsidered his divine endowment, he tried to retrieve his character by\nabusing his opponent, taunting him with being ignorant of his father's\nname, and calling him the unlawful son of U Yak Jakor, saying that\nit was by the dragon's aid he had won all the bets on that day.\n\nThis was a cruel and terrible charge from which U Babam Doh recoiled,\nbut as his mother had never revealed to him her history, he was\nhelpless in face of the taunt, to which he had no answer to give. He\nstood mute and stunned before the crowd, who, when they saw his\ndismay, at once concluded that the Heir-apparent's charges were well\nfounded. They dragged U Babam Doh before the Durbar, and accused him\nof witchcraft before the Siem and his ministers.\n\nU Babam Doh, being naturally courageous and resourceful, soon\nrecovered himself, and having absolute confidence in the justice of\nhis cause, he appealed to the Durbar for time to procure proofs,\nsaying that he would give himself up to die at their hands if he\nfailed to substantiate his claim to honour and respectability, and\nstating that this charge was fabricated by his opponent, who hoped\nto recover by perfidy what he had lost in fair game.\n\nThe Durbar were perplexed by these conflicting charges, but they were\nimpressed by the temperate and respectful demeanour of the young\nstranger, in comparison with the flustered and rash conduct of the\ndescendant of their own royal house, so they granted a number of days\nduring which U Babam Doh must procure proofs of his innocence or die.\n\nU Babam Doh left the place of Durbar, burning with shame and\nhumiliation for the stigma that had been cast upon him and upon his\nmother, and came sadly to his house. When his mother saw his livid\nface she knew that some great calamity had befallen him, and pressed\nhim to tell her about it, but the only reply he would give to all\nher questions was, \"Give me a mat, oh my mother, give me a mat to lie\nupon\"; whereupon she spread a mat for him on the floor, on which he\nthrew himself down in an abandonment of grief. He wept like one that\ncould never be consoled, and as he wept his tears turned into gold,\ntill the mat on which he lay was covered with lumps of gold, such as\ncould not be counted for their number.\n\nAlthough the mother saw this inexhaustible wealth at her feet she\ncould feel no pleasure in it, owing to her anxiety for her son,\nwho seemed likely to die of grief. After a time she succeeded in\ncalming him, and gradually she drew forth from him the tale of the\nattack made upon their honour by the Heir-apparent. She began to\nupbraid herself bitterly for withholding from him their history,\nand hastily she went to fetch her husband's clothes and the brass\nlota which she had concealed for so many years, and, bringing them to\nher son, she told him all that had happened to her and to his father,\nfrom the day on which the foreign mendicant visited their hut to the\ntime of their coming to their present abode.\n\nU Babam Doh listened with wonder and pity for the mother who had so\nbravely borne so many sorrows, concealing all her woes in order to\nspare him all unnecessary pangs. When the mother finished her tale\nU Babam Doh stood up and shook himself, and, taking his bow and his\nquiver, he said, \"I must go and kill U Yak Jakor, and so avenge my\nfather's death, and vindicate my mother's honour.\"\n\nThe mother's heart was heavy when she saw him depart, but she knew that\nthe day had arrived for him to fulfil his duty to his father's memory,\nso she made no attempt to detain him, but gave him minute directions\nabout the locality, and the path leading to the dragon's haunts.\n\n\n\nPART IV\n\nAfter a long journey U Babam Doh arrived at the pool, on the shores\nof which he found a large wooden chest, which he rightly guessed had\nbelonged to some unfortunate traveller who had fallen a victim to\nthe dragon. Upon opening the chest he found it full of fine clothes\nand precious stones, such as are worn only by great princes; these\nhe took and made into a bundle to bring home.\n\nRemembering his mother's instructions not to venture into the pool,\nhe did not leave the dry land, although he was hot and tired and\nlonged to bathe in order to refresh himself. He began to call out\nwith a loud voice as if hallooing to some lost companions, and this\nimmediately attracted to the surface U Yak Jakor, who, after waiting\na while to see if the man would not come to bathe in the pool, came\nashore, thinking to lure his prey into the water. But U Babam Doh was\non his guard, and did not stir from his place, and when the dragon\ncame within reach he attacked him suddenly and captured him alive. He\nthen bound him with rattan and confined him in the wooden chest.\n\nFortified by his success, and rejoicing in his victory, U Babam\nDoh took the chest on his shoulders and brought the dragon home\nalive. Being wishful to enhance the sensation, when the day came for\nhim to make his revelations public in the Durbar, he did not inform\nhis mother that he had U Yak Jakor confined in the wooden chest, and\nwhen she questioned him about the contents of the chest he was silent,\npromising to let her see it some day. In the meantime he forbade her\nto open it, on pain of offending him, but he showed her the bundle\nof silken clothes.\n\nThe news soon spread through the village that U Babam Doh had come\nback, and when the people saw him walking with lifted head and\nsteadfast look, the rumour got abroad that he had been successful\nin his quest for proofs. This rumour caused the Heir-apparent to\ntremble for his own safety, and hoping to baulk U Babam Doh once more,\nhe persuaded the Siem to postpone the date of the Durbar time after\ntime. Thus U Yak Jakor remained for many days undiscovered, confined\nin the chest.\n\nNow U Babam Don's mother, being a woman, was burning with curiosity\nto know the secret of that wooden chest which her son had brought\nhome and around which there appeared so much mystery. One day, when\nher son was absent, she determined to peep into it to see what was\nhidden there. U Yak Jakor had overheard all that the mother and son\nhad said to one another, and he knew that the woman was not aware\nof his identity. As soon as he heard her approaching the chest he\nquickly transformed himself into the likeness of her dead husband,\nthough he was powerless to break the rattan.\n\nThe woman was startled beyond speech when she saw (as she thought)\nher husband alive and almost unchanged, whom she had mourned as\ndead for so many long years. When she could control her joy she\nrequested him to come out, to partake of food and betel nut, but he\nreplied that although he had by the help of their son escaped from the\ndragon's stronghold, he was under certain vows which would have to be\nfulfilled before he could come out, for if he left the chest before the\nfulfilment of his vow he would fall again into the power of the dragon.\n\nThe mother began to find fault with her son for having concealed the\nfact of her husband's rescue from her, but the dragon said that if\nthe son had disclosed the fact to anybody before the fulfilment of\nthe vows it would have committed him into U Yak Jakor's hands. She\nmust beware of letting U Babam Doh know that she had discovered the\nsecret, or both her son and her husband would be lost to her for ever,\nwhile by judicious help she might bring about his release.\n\nUpon hearing this the woman implored him to show her in what way she\ncould assist, and so quicken his release. The wily dragon hoped in this\nway to bring about the death of U Babam Doh, so he replied that his\nvow involved drinking a seer of tigress' milk, and that he who obtained\nthe milk must not know for whom or for what purpose it was obtained.\n\nThis was sad news for the woman, for it seemed to her quite impossible\nto procure tigress' milk on any condition. She was even less likely\nto find any one willing to risk his life to get it, without knowing\nfor whom and for what purpose, and she wept bitterly. After a time\nshe called to mind the many exploits of her son as a hunter, and she\nconceived a sudden plan by which she hoped to obtain tigress' milk.\n\nBy and by she heard the footsteps of her son outside, and she\nhurriedly closed the lid of the chest, and lay on the ground, and\nfeigned sickness, writhing as if in great agony. U Babam Doh was\nmuch concerned when he saw his mother, and bent over her with great\nsolicitude. He tried many remedies, but she seemed to grow worse\nand worse, and he cried out in sorrow, saying, \"Tell me, my mother,\nwhat remedy will cure you, and I will get it or die.\"\n\n\"It is written in my nusip (book of fate) that I shall die of this\nsickness, unless I drink a seer of tigress' milk,\" said the mother.\n\n\"I will obtain for you some tigress' milk,\" said the youth, \"or die\";\nand, taking his bow and quiver and his father's lota, he went into\nthe forest, asking some neighbours to come and sit with his mother\nduring his absence.\n\nWhen he had been gone some time his mother said she felt better, and\nrequested the neighbours to return to their homes, as she wished to\nsleep; but as soon as they were out of earshot she got up and prepared\na savoury meal for him whom she thought her husband.\n\n\n\nPART V\n\nU Babam Doh, eager to see his mother healed, walked without halting\ntill he came to a dense and uninhabited part of the forest which\nhe thought might be the haunt of wild beasts, but he could see no\ntrail of tigers. He was about to return home after a fruitless hunt,\nas he feared to be absent too long from his mother, when he heard\nloud moans from behind a near thicket. He immediately directed his\nsteps towards the sound, prepared to render what assistance he could\nto whoever was suffering. To his surprise he found some young tiger\ncubs, one of whom had swallowed a bone, which had stuck in his throat,\nand was choking him. U Babam Doh quickly made a pair of pincers from\na piece of bamboo, and soon had the bone removed. The cubs were very\nthankful for the recovery of their brother, and showed their gratitude\nby purring and licking U Babam Doh's hand, while the cub from whose\nthroat the bone was extracted crouched at his feet, declaring that\nhe would be his attendant for ever.\n\nU Babam Doh took up his lota and his bow and prepared to depart, but\nthe cubs entreated him to stay until their mother returned, so as to\nget her permission for the young tiger to follow him. So U Babam Doh\nstayed with the cubs to await the return of the tigress.\n\nBefore long the muffled sound of her tread was heard approaching. As\nshe drew near, she sniffed the air suspiciously, and soon detected\nthe presence of a man in her lair. Putting herself in a fighting\nattitude, she began to growl loudly, saying, \"Human flesh, human\nflesh\"; but the cubs ran to meet her, and told her how a kind man had\nsaved their brother from death. Whereupon she stopped her growling,\nand, like her cubs, she showed her gratitude to U Babam Doh by purring\nand licking his hands.\n\nThe tigress asked him many questions, for it was a rare occurrence\nfor a man to wander so far into the jungle alone. On being told that\nhe had come in search of tigress' milk to save his mother's life, she\nexclaimed eagerly that she knew of a way to give him what he wanted,\nby which she could in some measure repay him for saving her cub, and\nshe bade him bring his lota and fill it with milk from her dugs. U\nBabam Doh did as she told him, and obtained abundance of tigress'\nmilk, with which he hastened home to his mother, accompanied by the\ntiger cub.\n\n\n\nPART VI\n\nU Babam Doh found his mother, on his return, in just the same condition\nas when he left her; so as soon as he arrived he put the lota of milk\ninto her hand, and said, \"Drink, oh my mother. I have obtained for you\nsome tigress' milk, drink and live.\" She made a pretence of drinking,\nbut as soon as her son left the house she hurried to the wooden chest,\nand, handing in the lota, she said, \"Drink, oh my husband. Our son hath\nobtained the tigress' milk, drink and be free from the dragon's power.\"\n\nU Yak Jakor was vexed to find that U Babam Doh had returned unharmed,\nand began to think how he could send him on another perilous venture,\nand he answered the woman plaintively, \"To drink tigress' milk is only\na part of my vow; before I can be released from the dragon's power I\nmust anoint my body with fresh bear's grease, and he who obtains it\nfor me must not know for whom or for what purpose it is obtained.\"\n\nThe woman was very troubled to hear this, for she feared to send her\nson into yet another danger, but, believing that there was no other\nway to secure her husband's release, she again feigned sickness, and\nwhen her son asked her why the tigress' milk had not effected a cure,\nshe replied:\n\n\"It is written in my nusip that I must die of this sickness unless\nI anoint my body with fresh bear's grease.\"\n\n\"I will obtain the fresh bear's grease for you, oh my mother, or die,\"\nanswered the youth impetuously; and once more he started to the forest,\ntaking his bow and quiver, and his father's lota, which he had filled\nwith honey.\n\nAs he was starting off, the tiger cub began to follow him, but U Babam\nDoh commanded him to stop at home to guard the house, and went alone\nto the forest. After travelling far he saw the footprints of bears,\nwhereupon he cut some green plaintain leaves and spread them on\nthe ground and poured the honey upon them, and went to hide in the\nthicket. Soon a big bear came and began to eat the honey greedily,\nand while it was busy feasting, U Babam Doh, from behind the thicket,\nthrew a thong round its throat and captured it alive. Upon this\na fierce struggle began; but the bear, finding that the more he\nstruggled the tighter the grip on his throat became, was soon subdued,\nand was led a safe, though unwilling captive by U Babam Doh out of\nthe jungle. Thus once again the son brought to his mother the remedy\nwhich was supposed to be written in her nusip.\n\nWhen he came in sight of his home, leading the bear by the thong,\nthe tiger cub, on seeing his master, ran to meet him, with the good\nnews that his mother had recovered and had been cooking savoury meals\nfor a guest who was staying in the house. This news cheered U Babam\nDoh greatly, and, fastening the bear to a tree, he hastened to the\nhouse to greet his mother, but to his disappointment he found her ill\nand seemingly in as much pain as ever. Without delay he took a knife\nand went out to kill the bear, and, filling the lota with grease,\nhe brought it to his mother, saying:\n\n\"Anoint yourself, oh my mother, I have obtained for you the bear's\ngrease; anoint yourself and live.\"\n\nHe then went out to seek the tiger cub and punish him for deceiving\nhim about his mother's condition, but the cub declared on oath that\nhe had spoken only the truth, and that his mother had really been\nentertaining a guest during her son's absence, and seemed to have\nbeen in good health, going about her work, and cooking savoury meals.\n\nU Babam Doh was greatly mystified; he was loth to believe his mother\ncould be capable of any duplicity, and yet the tiger cub seemed to\nspeak the truth. He determined not to say anything to his mother\nabout the matter, but to keep a watch on her movements for a few days.\n\nWhen her son left the house after giving her the bear's grease,\nthe woman rose quickly, and lifting the lid of the chest, she said:\n\n\"Anoint yourself, oh my husband. Our son hath obtained the bear's\ngrease; anoint yourself and be free from the dragon's power.\"\n\nAs before, the dragon was again very chagrined to find that U Babam\nDoh had come back alive and uninjured, so he thought of yet another\nplan by which he could send him into a still greater danger, and he\nanswered the woman: \"Anointing my body with bear's grease is only a\npart of my vow; before I can be released from the dragon's power I\nmust be covered for one whole night with the undried skin of a python,\nand he who obtains the skin for me must not know for what purpose or\nfor whom it is obtained.\"\n\nThe woman wept bitterly when she heard of this vow, for she feared to\nsend her son among the reptiles. U Yak Jakor, seeing her hesitation,\nbegan to coax her, and to persuade her to feign sickness once\nagain, and she, longing to see her husband released, yielded to his\ncoaxing. When her son came in he found her seemingly worse than he\nhad seen her before, and once more he knelt by her side and begged\nof her to tell him what he could do for her that would ease her pain.\n\nShe replied, \"It is written in my nusip that I must die of this\nsickness unless I am covered for a whole night with the undried skin\nof a python\"; and as before U Babam Doh answered and said that he\nwould obtain for her whatever was written in her nusip; but he did\nnot say that he would bring a python skin.\n\nTaking his bow and quiver, he left the house, as on former occasions,\nand walked in the direction of the jungle, but this time he did not\nproceed far. He returned home unobserved, and, climbing to the roof\nof the house, he quietly removed some of the thatch, which enabled\nhim to see all that was going on inside the house, while he himself\nwas unseen.\n\nVery soon he saw his mother getting up, as if in her usual health,\nand preparing to cook a savoury meal, which, to his amazement, when\nit had been cooked, she took to the wooden chest where he knew the\ndragon to be confined. As he looked, he saw the figure of a man lying\nin the chest, and he knew then that U Yak Jakor had transformed himself\ninto another likeness in order to dupe his mother. He listened, and\nsoon he understood from their conversation that the dragon had taken\nthe form of his own dead father, and by that means had succeeded in\nmaking his mother a tool against her own son. He now blamed himself\nfor not having confided to his mother the secret of the chest, and\ndetermined to undeceive her without further delay.\n\nHe entered the house quickly, before his mother had time to close\nthe lid of the chest. She stood before him flustered and confused,\nthinking that by her indiscretion she had irrevocably committed her\nhusband to the power of the dragon; but when U Babam Doh informed her\nof the deception played upon her by U Yak Jakor she was overwhelmed\nwith terror, to think how she had been duped into sending her brave\nson into such grave perils, and abetting the dragon in his evil\ndesigns on his life.\n\nWhen U Yak Jakor saw that there was no further advantage to be\ngained by keeping the man's form he assumed his own shape, and,\nthinking to prevent them from approaching near enough to harm him,\nhe emitted the most foul stench from his scaly body. But U Babam Doh,\nwho had borne so much, was not to be thwarted, and without any more\nlingering he took the chest on his shoulders and carried it to the\nplace of Durbar. There, before the Siem and his ministers and the\nwhole populace, he recounted the strange story of his own adventures\nand his parents' history. At the end of the tale he opened the wooden\nchest and exhibited the great monster, who had been such a terror to\ntravellers for many generations, and in the presence of the Durbar,\namid loud cheers, he slew U Yak Jakor, and so avenged his father's\ndeath and vindicated his mother's honour.\n\nThe Siem and the Durbar unanimously appointed him the Heir-apparent,\nand when in the course of time he succeeded to the throne he proved\nhimself a wise and much-loved ruler, who befriended the poor and the\ndown-trodden and gave shelter to the stranger and the homeless. He\nalways maintained that his own high estate was bestowed upon him\nin consequence of his family's generosity to a lonely and unknown\nmendicant, whose blessing descended upon them and raised them from\na state of want and poverty to the highest position in the land.","title":"Folk-Tales of the Khasis","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":41206}