{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_40402/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_40402","id":"gutenberg_40402","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/40402","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Adventure","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Folklore -- Mongolia","Kalmyks -- Folklore"],"text":"SAGAS FROM THE FAR EAST;\n                                  Or,\n                         Kalmouk and Mongolian\n                          Traditionary Tales.\n\n             With Historical Preface and Explanatory Notes.\n\n\n    By the Author of \"Patra\u00f1as,\" \"Household Stories from the Land of\n                              Hofer,\" &c.\n\n\n                                London:\n                          Griffith and Farran,\n                   Successors to Newbery and Harris,\n                    Corner of St. Paul's Churchyard.\n\n                              MDCCCLXXIII.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n    \"It singularly happens that the Sagas of the ancient Indians are\n    preserved to us in much fuller measure than their authentic\n    history, which is scanty enough. Moreover to them their Sagas\n    served as actual statements of facts, so that we can neither form\n    a right conception of their mind, nor arrive at any knowledge of\n    their history, without studying their Sagas.\"\n\n                        Lassen, \"Pref. to Ind. Alterthumskunde,\" p. vii.\n\n\n    \"The Mongol is candid and credulous as an infant, and\n    passionately loves to listen to marvellous myths and tales.\"\n\n                    Huc, \"Travels in China and Tibet,\" vol. ii. ch. xii.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThe origin and migrations of myths have of late been the subject\nof so much sifting and study, the elaborate results of which are\nalready before the world, that there is no need in this place\nto offer more than a few condensed remarks in allusion to the\nparticular collections now, I believe, for the first time put into\nEnglish. Translations of some chapters of the \"Adventures of the\nWell-and-wise-walking Khan\" have been made by Benj. Bergmann, Riga,\n1804; by Golstunski, St. Petersburg, 1864; and by H. Osterley,\nin 1867. Of \"Ardschi-Bordschi,\" by Emil Schlaginweit; by Benfey,\nin \"Ausland,\" Nos. 34-36, and the whole of both by Professor J\u00fclg,\n1865-68; of these I have availed myself in preparing the following\npages; I know of no other translation into any European language\nexcept one into Russ by Galsan Gombojew, published at S. Petersburg\nin 1865-68 [1].\n\nThe first thirteen chapters of the \"Well-and-wise-walking Khan\" are a\nKalmouk (1) collection, all the rest Mongolian; and though traceable to\nIndian sources, they yet have received an entire transformation in the\ncourse of their adoption by their new country. In giving them another\nnew home, some further alterations, though of a different nature, have\nbeen necessary. However much one may regret them such transformations\nare inevitable. It seems a law of nature that history should to a\ncertain extent write itself. We know the age of a tree by its knots\nand rings; and we trace the age of a building by its alterations and\nrepairs--and that equally well whether these be made in a style later\nprevailing, utterly different from that of the original design, or in\nthe most careful imitation of the same; for the age of the workman's\nhand cannot choose but write itself on whatever he chisels.\n\nIt is just the same with these myths. They cannot remain as if\nstereotyped from the first; the hand that passes them on must mould\nthem anew in the process. You might say, they have been already\naltered enough during their wanderings, give them to us now at least\nas the Mongolians left them. But it is not possible, most of them\nare too coarse to meet an eye trained by Christianity and modern\ncultivation. The habit of mind in which they are framed is in places\nas foreign as the idiom in which they are written; I have, however,\nmade it an undeviating rule to let such alterations be as few and as\nslight as the case admitted, and that they should go no farther than\nwas necessary to make them readable, or occasionally give them point.\n\nAs I have said these stories have an 'Indian' source, it becomes\nincumbent to spend a few lines on defining the use and reach of the\nword [2].\n\nThe words >'Indoc and Indik`h occur for the first time among writers\nof classical antiquity in the fragments that have come down to us\nof the writings of Hecat\u00e6us, B.C. 500. Herodotus also uses the same;\nfrom these they descended to us through the Romans. They both received\nit through Persian means and used it in the most comprehensive sense,\nthough the Persian use of their equivalent at the time seems to have\nbeen more limited. It is probable, however, that later the Persian\nuse became further extended; and through the Arabians, who also\nadopted it from them, it became the Muhammedan designation of the\nwhole country. When they, in 713, conquered the country watered by\nthe lower course of the Indus, namely, Sinde, they confirmed the use\nof this more extended application of the Persian word Hind, reserving\nSind, the local form of the same word--apparently without perceiving\nit was the same--to this particular province.\n\nThe later Persian designation is Hindustan--the country of the\nHindu--and this is generally adopted in India itself to denote the\nwhole country, though many Europeans have restricted it to the Northern\nhalf, in contradistinction from the Dekhan, or country south of the\nVindha-range (2), often excluding even Bengal.\n\nThe original native names are different. In the epic mythology occur,\nGambudv\u00eepa, the island of the gambu-tree (Eugenia Jambolana), for\nthe central or known world of which India was part, and Sudarsana,\n\"of beautiful appearance,\" to denote both the tree and the \"island\"\nnamed from it. The Buddhist cosmography uses Gampudv\u00eepa for India\nProper. Within this the Brahmanical portion, lying to the south of\nthe Him\u00e2lajas, is designated as Bh\u00e2rata or Bh\u00e2ratavarsha. In the\ngreat epic poem called the Mah\u00e2 Bh\u00e2rata, the name is derived from\nBh\u00e2rata, son of Dusjanta, the first known ruler of the country, and\nseveral dynasties are called after him Bh\u00e2ratides, though it is more\nprobable his name rather accrued to him from that of the country,\nthe word being derived from bhri, \"to bring forth\" or \"nourish,\"\nhence, \"the fruitful,\" \"life-nourishing\" land. Bh\u00e2rata is also called\n(Rig-Ved. i. 96, 3) \"the nourisher,\" sustentator.\n\nThe native historical name is undoubtedly \"\u00c2rj\u00e2vata,\" the district of\nthe \u00c2rja--\"the venerable men\"--or more literally, \"worthy to be sought\nafter,\" keepers of the sacred laws, the people of honourable ancestry;\ncalling themselves so in contradistinction to the Ml\u00eak'ha, barbarous\ndespisers of the sacred laws (Manu, i. 22; x. 45), also \u00c2rja-bh\u00fbmi,\nland of the \u00c2rja. The Manu defines rigidly the original boundaries\nof this sacred country; it lies between the Him\u00e2laja and Vindhja\nmountains, and stretches from the eastern to the western seas. Though\nPtolemy (Geog. vii. I) calls the people of the west coast, south of\nthe Vindhja, \u00c2riaka, this was a later extension of the original term.\n\nWhat gives the word a great historical importance is the circumstance\nwhich must not be passed over here, that the original native name of\nthe inhabitants of Iran was either the same or similarly derived. Airja\nin Zend stood both for \"honourable\" and for the name of the Iranian,\npeople. Concerning the Medes we have the testimony of Herodotus\nthat they originally called themselves >'Arioi, and we owe him the\ninformation also that the original Persian name was >Artaio`i, a word\nwhich has the same root as \u00c2rja, or at least can have no very different\nmeaning. They do not seem ever to have actually called themselves \u00c2rja,\nalthough the word existed in their ancient tongue with the sense of\n\"noble,\" \"honourable.\"\n\nThe earliest Indian Sagas speak of the Arja as already established in\nCentral India, and give no help to the discovery of when or how they\nsettled there. Like most other peoples of the old world, they believed\nthemselves aborigines, and they placed the Creation and the origin of\nspecies in the very land where they found themselves living, nor do\ntheir myths bear a trace of allusion to any earlier dwelling-place or\ncountry outside their Bh\u00e2ratavarsha (4). It is true, that the sanctity\nthey ascribe to the north country, and the mysterious allusions to the\nsacred mountain-country of Meer\u00fb, the dwelling of the gods in the far,\nfar north, over the Him\u00e2lajas, is calculated to mislead for a moment\nwith the suggestion that they point to a possible immigration from\nthat north, but a closer observation shows that that very sacred regard\nmore probably arose from the very fact of its being an unknown country;\nwhile the effect of the majestic and inaccessible heights, with their\nglorious colouring and their peculiar natural productions, was enough\nto suggest them the seat of a superior and divine race of beings.\n\nThe fact that Sanskrit, the ancient tongue of the Aryan Indians,\nis so closely allied to the languages of so many western nations,\nestablishes with certainty the identity of origin of these people, and\nlays on us the burden of deciding whether the Aryan Indians migrated to\nIndia as the allied peoples migrated to their countries from a common\naboriginal home, or whether that aboriginal home was India, and all the\nallied peoples migrated from it, the Indians alone remaining at home.\n\nReason points to the adoption of the former of these two solutions. In\nthe first place, it is altogether unlikely that in the case of a great\nmigration all should have migrated rigidly in one direction. It is\nonly natural to expect they should have poured themselves out every\nway, and to look for the original home in a locality which should have\nformed a central base of operations. The very feuds which would in many\ncases lead to such outpourings would necessitate the striking out in\never new directions. Then, there is nothing in the manners, ideas,\nspeech--in the names of articles of primary importance to support\nlife, in which at least we might expect to find such a trace--of the\nother peoples to connect them in any way with India. Had they ever\nbeen at home there, some remnants of local influence would have been\nretained; but we find none. Besides this, we have, on the other hand,\nvery satisfactory evidence of at least the later journeyings of the\nIndian family. Their warlike and conquering entrance into the Dekhan\nand crossing of the Vindhja range is matter of positive history. Some\nhelp for ascertaining their earlier route may be found in the necessity\nestablished by the laws and limits of possibility. Encumbered with\nflocks and herds, and unassisted by appliances of transport, we cannot\nbelieve them to have traversed the steep peaks of the Him\u00e2lajas. The\nroad through eastern Caboolistan and the valley of the Pangkora, or\nthat leading from the Gilgit by way of Attok, or over the table-land\nof Deotsu through Cashmere, are all known to us as most difficult\nof access, and do not appear at any period to have been willingly\nadopted. But the western passes of Hindukutsch, skirting round the\nsteep Him\u00e2lajas--the way trod by the armies of Alexander and other\nwarlike hosts, no less than by the more peaceful trains of merchants,\nwith whom it was doubtless traditional--affords a highly probable\nline of march for the first great immigration.\n\nWe are reminded here of the fact already alluded to, of the common\norigin of the earliest name of both Indians and Persians, leading us to\nsuppose they long inhabited one country in common. For this supposition\nwe find further support in other similarities: e. g. between the older\nSanskrit of the V\u00eada and the oldest poems of the Iranian tongue; also\nbetween the teaching, mythology, the sagas, and the spoken language\nof the two peoples. On the other hand, we find also the most diverse\nuses given to similar expressions, pointing to a period of absolute\nseparation between them, and at a remote date: e.g. the Indian word\nfor the Supreme Being is d\u00eava; in Zend, da\u00eava, as also d\u00eav in modern\nPersian, stands for the Evil Principle. Again, in Zend dagju means a\nprovince (and its use implies orderly division of government and the\ntranquil exercise of authority); but in the Brahmanical code dasju\nis used for a turbulent horde, who set law and authority at defiance.\n\nSuch transpositions seem the result of some fierce variance, leading\nto division and hatred between peoples long united.\n\nProceeding now to trace the original wandering farther on, we find\nsome help from Iranian traditions. The Zendavesta distinctly tells\nof a so-called A\u00eerjanem Va\u00eago as a sacred country, the seat of\ncreation, and place it in the farthest east of the highest Iranian\ntable-land, the district of the source of the Oxus and Jaxartes; by\nthe death-bringing Ahriman it was stricken with cold and barrenness\n(3), and only saw the sun thenceforth for two months of the year. The\nparticularity with which it is described would point to the fact\nthat the locality treated of was a distant one, with which the race\nhad a traditional acquaintance; while at the same time it cannot be\nadopted too precisely in every detail, because details may be altered\nby a poetical imagination--merits may be exaggerated by regret for\nabsence, and defects magnified by vexation, or invented in proof of\nthe effects of a predicated curse.\n\nIf we may conclude that we have rightly traced up the Indians and\nPersians to a common home between the easternmost Iranian highlands\nand the Caspian Sea, it follows from the linguistic analogies of\nthe so-called Indo-European peoples that this same home was also\ntheirs at a time when they were not yet broken up into distinct\nfamilies. This common local origin gives at once the reason for the\nanalogies in the grammatical structure of their languages, and no\nless of their mythical traditions, which are far too widely spread,\nand have entered too radically into the universal teaching of both,\nto be supposed for a moment to have been borrowed by either from the\nother within the historical period, or at all since their separation.\n\n\n\nIt remains only to say a few words on the scope and object of the\nwork, and the profit that may be derived from its perusal. I know\nthere are many who think that mere amusement is profit enough to\nexpect from a tale, and that to look for the extraction of any more\nserious result is tedious. But I will give my young readers--or at\nleast a large proportion of them--credit for possessing sufficient\nlove of improvement to prefer that class of amusement which furthers\ntheir desire for information and edification.\n\nThe collections of myths with which I have heretofore presented them\nhave all had either a Christian origin, or at least have passed through\na Christian mould, and have thus almost unconsciously subserved the\npurpose of illustrating some phase of Christian teaching, which is\nspecially distinguished by keeping in view, not spasmodically and\narbitrarily, as in the best of other systems, but uniformly, in\nits sublimest reach and in its humblest detail, the belief that an\neternal purpose and consequence pervades the whole length and breadth\nof human existence.\n\nWhether the story of \"Juanita the Bald\" was originally drawn by a\nChristian desirous of inculcating the sacred principles of the new\ncovenant, or adapted to the purpose by such an one from the myth\nof OEdipus and Antigone; whether that of \"St. Peter's Three Loaves\"\nwas really a traditional incident of our Lord's wanderings on earth\ntoo insignificant to find place in the pages of Holy Writ, or adapted\nfrom the myth of Baucis and Philemon; or whether all were adaptations\naccording to the special convictions of various narrators of great\nprimeval traditions, mattered very little, as each had an intrinsic\npurpose and an interest of its own quite distinct from that accruing\nto it through ascertaining its place in the history of the world's\nbeliefs. In telling them, it needed not to point a moral, for the\nmoral--i.e. some more or less remote application of the sacred and\ncivilizing teaching of the Gospel--was of the very essence of each.\n\nWith the Tales given in the following pages, however, it is quite\ndifferent. They come direct from the far East, and in most of them\nnothing further has been aimed at than the amusement of the weary\nhours of disoccupation, whether forced or voluntary, of a people\nindisposed by climate, natural temperament, or want of cultivation\nfrom finding recreation in the healthy exercise of mental effort.\n\nTo me it seems that before we can take pleasure in giving our time to\nthe perusal of such stories, we must invest them with, or discover\nin them some sort of purpose. Nor is this so far to seek, perhaps,\nas might appear at first sight.\n\nSome, it must be observed, belong to the class which deals with the\ndeeds of heroes--fabling forth the grand all-time lesson of the\nvigorous struggle of good with evil; the nobility of unflinching\nself-sacrifice and of devotion to an exalted cause, setting the\nmodel for the lowly sister of charity as much as for the victorious\nleader of armies, and each all the while typical of Him who gave\nHimself to be the servant of all, and the ransom of all. A German\nwriter rises so inspired from their study that he bursts forth into\nthis p\u00e6an:--\"Eine F\u00fclle der G\u00f6ttergeschichte thut sich hier auf, und\nnirgends l\u00e4sst sich der eigenth\u00fcmliche Naturcharacter in Fortbildung\ndes Mythus vollst\u00e4ndiger erkennen, als an diesen Alterth\u00fcmern. G\u00f6tter\nund verg\u00f6tterte Menschen ragen hier, wie an den W\u00e4nden der Tempel\nvon Thebe hoch \u00fcber das gew\u00f6hnliche Menschengestalt. Alles hat einen\nriesenhaften Aufschwung zur himmlischen Welt [3].\" Subsidiarily to\nthese conceptions of them, stories of this class have the further\nmerit of being one chief means of conveying the scanty data we possess\nconcerning the early history of the people of whose literature they\nform part (5).\n\nOthers again may be placed in a useful light by endeavouring to trace\nin them the journeyings they have made in their transmigration. Benfey,\na modern German writer who has employed much time and study \"in tracing\nthe M\u00e4hrchen in their ever-varying forms,\" while pointing out as many\nothers have also done (6), that the great bulk of our household tales\nhave come to us from the East, and have been spread over Europe in\nvarious ways, points out that this was done for the South in great\nmeasure through the agency of the Turks; but for the North it was by\nthe Mongolians during their two centuries of ascendancy in Eastern\nEurope; the Slaves received them from them, and communicated them to\nthe German peoples (7).\n\nIf therefore you find some tales in one collection bearing a close\nresemblance with those you have read in another, you should make it\na matter of interest to observe what is individual in the character\nof each, and to trace the points both of diversity and analogy in\nthe mode of expression in which they are clothed, and which will be\nfound just as marked as the difference in costume of the respective\npeoples who have told them each after their own fashion.\n\nAll of them have at least the merit of being, in the main, pictures\nof life, however overwrought with the fantastic or supernatural\nelement, not ideal embodiments of the perfect motives by which people\nought to be actuated, but genre pictures of the modes in which they\ncommonly do act. As such they cannot fail to contain the means of\nedification, though we are left to look for and discover and apply it\nfor ourselves. To take one instance. The Christian hagiographer could\nnever have written of a hero he was celebrating, as we find it said of\nVikram\u00e2ditja, that as part of his preparation for the battle of life\n\"while learning wisdom with the wise, and the use of arms from men of\nvalour,\" \"of the robber bands he acquired the art of stealing, and of\nfraudulent dealers, to lie.\" If he had been illustrating the actual\nbiography of a Christian hero, it is a detail which could not have\nentered, and if drawing an ideal picture, it would have been entirely\nat variance with the system he was illustrating. Circumstances like\nthis which fail to serve as subject for imitation, must be turned to\naccount in exercising the powers of judgment, as well in distinguishing\nwhat to avoid from what to admire, as in taking note of these very\nvariances between Christian and the best non-christian morality.\n\n\n\n* * * The author feels bound to apologize for any inaccuracies\nwhich may have crept into these pages owing to being abroad while\npreparing them for the press.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n    THE SAGA OF THE WELL-AND-WISE-WALKING KHAN.\n\n                                                                    Page\n    Dedication                                                         1\n    Tales\n\n        I.--The Woman who sought her Husband in the Palace of\n            Erlik-Khan                                                10\n       II.--The Gold-spitting Prince                                  17\n      III.--How the Schimnu-Khan was slain                            36\n       IV.--The Pig's-head Soothsayer                                 54\n        V.--How the Serpent-gods were propitiated                     71\n       VI.--The Turbulent Subject                                     82\n      VII.--The White Bird and his Wife                               89\n     VIII.--How \u00c2nanda the Woodcarver and \u00c2nanda the Painter strove\n            together                                                  97\n       IX.--Five to One                                              105\n        X.--The Biting Corpse                                        115\n       XI.--The Prayer making suddenly Rich                          120\n      XII.--\"Child-intellect\" and \"Bright-intellect\"                 130\n     XIII.--The Fortunes of Shrikantha                               135\n      XIV.--The Avaricious Brother                                   146\n       XV.--The Use of Magic Language                                157\n      XVI.--The Wife who loved Butter                                165\n     XVII.--The Simple Husband and the Prudent Wife                  173\n    XVIII.--How Shanggasba buried his Father                         178\n      XIX.--The Perfidious Friend                                    192\n       XX.--Bh\u00eexu Life                                               198\n      XXI.--How the Widow saved her Son's Life                       206\n     XXII.--The White Serpent-king                                   213\n    XXIII.--What became of the Red-coloured Dog                      221\n            Conclusion of the Adventures of the\n            Well-and-Wise-Walking Khan                               229\n\n\n    THE SAGA OF ARDSCHI-BORDSCHI AND VIKRAM\u00c2DITJA'S THRONE.\n\n    Historical Notice of Vikram\u00e2ditja                                230\n    The Boy-King                                                     252\n    The False Friend                                                 253\n    The Pretended Son                                                257\n    Ardschi-Bordschi discovers Vikram\u00e2ditja's Throne                 262\n    The S\u00fbta tells Ardschi-Bordschi concerning Vikram\u00e2ditja's Birth  266\n    The S\u00fbta tells Ardschi-Bordschi concerning Vikram\u00e2ditja's Youth  273\n        Schal\u00fb the Wolf-boy                                          277\n        Vikram\u00e2ditja and Schal\u00fb conquer the Schimnus                 284\n    The S\u00fbta tells Ardschi-Bordschi concerning Vikram\u00e2ditja's Deeds  291\n        Vikram\u00e2ditja acquires another Kingdom                        ib.\n        Vikram\u00e2ditja makes the Silent speak                          294\n        Who invented Woman?                                          298\n        The Voice-charmer                                            304\n    The S\u00fbta tells Ardschi-Bordschi concerning the Seventy-one\n    Parrots and their Adviser                                        309\n        How Naran Gerel swore falsely and yet told the Truth         315\n\n\n    Notes                                                            325\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE SAGA OF THE WELL-AND-WISE-WALKING KHAN.\n\n\nDEDICATION.\n\n\nO thou most perfect Master and Teacher of Wisdom and Goodness! Teacher,\nsecond only to the incomparable Sh\u00e2kjamuni (1)! Thou accomplished\nN\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una (2)! Thou who wast intimately acquainted with the Most-pure\nTrip\u00eetaka (3), and didst evolve from it thy wise madhjamika (4),\ncontaining the excellent param\u00e2rtha (5)! Before thee I prostrate\nmyself! Hail! N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una O!\n\n\n\nIt is even the wonderful and astounding history of the deeds of the\nWell-and-wise-walking Khan, which he performed under the help and\ndirection of this same Master and Teacher, N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una, that I propose\nto relate in the form of the following series of narratives.\n\nIn the kingdom of Magadha (6) there once lived seven brothers who\nwere magicians. At the distance of a mile from their abode lived\ntwo brothers, sons of a Khan. The elder of these went to the seven\nmagicians, saying, \"Teach me to understand your art,\" and abode with\nthem seven years. But though they were always setting him to learn\ndifficult tasks, yet they never taught him the true key to their mystic\nknowledge. His brother, however, coming to visit him one day, by merely\nlooking through a crack in the door of the apartment where the seven\nbrothers were at work acquired perfectly the whole krij\u00e2vidja (7).\n\nAfter this they both went home together, the elder because he\nperceived he would never learn any thing of the magicians, and the\nyounger because he had learnt every thing they had to impart.\n\nAs they went along the younger brother said, \"Now that we know\nall their art the seven magicians will probably seek to do us some\nmischief. Go thou, therefore, to our stable, which we left empty, and\nthou shalt find there a splendid steed. Put a rein on him and lead\nhim forth to sell him, only take care thou go not in the direction\nof the dwelling of the seven magicians; and, having sold him, bring\nback the price thou shalt have received.\"\n\nWhen he had made an end of speaking he transformed himself into a\nhorse, and went and placed himself in the stable against his brother\narrived.\n\nBut the elder brother, knowing the magicians had taught him nothing,\nstood in no fear of them. Therefore he did not according to the\nwords of his brother; but saying within himself, \"As my brother is\nso clever that he could conjure this fine horse into the stable, let\nhim conjure thither another if he wants it sold. This one I will ride\nmyself.\" Accordingly he saddled and mounted the horse. All his efforts\nto guide him were vain, however, and in spite of his best endeavours\nthe horse, impelled by the power of the magic of them from whom the\nart had been learnt, carried him straight to the door of the magicians'\ndwelling. Once there he was equally unable to induce him to stir away;\nthe horse persistently stood still before the magicians' door. When\nhe found he could not in any way command the horse, he determined to\nsell it to these same magicians, and he offered it to them, asking\na great price for it.\n\nThe magicians at once recognized that it was a magic horse, and they\nsaid, among themselves, \"If our art is to become thus common, and\nevery body can produce a magic horse, no one will come to our market\nfor wonders. We had best buy the horse up and destroy it.\" Accordingly\nthey paid the high price required and took possession of the horse\nand shut it up in a dark stall. When the time came to slaughter it,\none held it down by the tail, another by the head, other four by the\nfour legs, so that it should in nowise break away, while the seventh\nbared his arm ready to strike it with death.\n\nWhen the Khan's son, who was transformed into the horse, had learnt\nwhat was the intention of the magicians, he said, \"Would that any sort\nof a living being would appear into which I might transform myself.\"\n\nHardly had he formed the wish when a little fish was seen swimming down\nthe stream: into this the Khan transformed himself. The seven magicians\nknew what had occurred, and immediately transformed themselves into\nseven larger fish and pursued it. When they were very close to the\nlittle fish, with their gullets wide open, the Khan said, within\nhimself, \"Would that any sort of living being would appear into\nwhich I might transform myself.\" Immediately a dove was seen flying\nin the heavens, and the Khan transformed himself into the dove. The\nseven magicians, seeing what was done, transformed themselves into\nseven hawks, pursuing the dove over hill and dale. Once again they\nwere near overtaking him, when the dove took refuge in the Land Bede\n(8). Southward in Bede was a shining mountain and a cave within it\ncalled \"Giver of Rest.\" Hither the dove took refuge, even in the very\nbosom of the Great Master and Teacher, N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una.\n\nThe seven hawks came thither also, fast flying behind the dove; but,\narrived at the entrance of N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una's cave, they showed themselves\nonce more as men, clothed in cotton garments.\n\nThen spoke the great Master and Teacher, N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una, \"Wherefore,\nO dove, flutterest thou so full of terror, and what are these seven\nhawks to thee?\"\n\nSo the Khan's son told the Master all that had happened between\nhimself, his brother, and the seven magicians; and he added these\nwords, \"Even now there stand before the entrance of this cave seven\nmen clothed in cotton garments. These men will come in unto the Master\nand pray for the boon of the \u00e2r\u00e2mela he holds in his hand. Meantime,\nI will transform myself into the large bead of the \u00e2r\u00e2mela, and when\nthe Master would reach the chaplet to the seven men, I pray him that,\nputting one end of it in his mouth, he bite in twain the string of\nthe same, whereby all the beads shall be set free.\"\n\nThe Master benevolently did even as he had been prayed. Moreover,\nwhen all the beads fell showering on the ground, behold they were\nall turned into little worms, and the seven men clothed in cotton\ngarments transformed themselves into seven fowls, who pecked up the\nworms. But when the Master dropped the large bead out of his mouth on\nto the ground it was transformed into the form of a man having a staff\nin his hand. With this staff the Khan's son killed the seven fowls,\nbut the moment they were dead they bore the forms of men's corpses.\n\nThen spoke the Master. \"This is evil of thee. Behold, while I gave\nthee protection for thy one life, thou hast taken the lives of these\nmen, even of these seven. In this hast thou done evil.\"\n\nBut the Khan's son answered, \"To protect my life there was no\nother means save to take the life of these seven, who had vowed to\nkill me. Nevertheless, to testify my thanks to the Master for his\nprotection, and to take this sin from off my head, behold I am ready\nto devote myself to whatever painful and difficult enterprise the\nMaster will be pleased to lay upon me.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the Master, \"if this is so, betake thyself to the cool\ngrove, even to the c\u00eetavana (9), where is the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr (10). From\nhis waist upwards he is of gold, from his waist downwards of emerald;\nhis head is of mother-of-pearl, decked with a shining crown. Thus\nis he made. Him if thou bring unto me from his Mango-tree (11), thou\nshalt have testified thy gratitude for my protection and shalt have\ntaken this sin that thou hast committed from off thy head; for so\nshall I be able, when I have the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr in subjection under me,\nto bring forth gold in abundance, to give lives of a thousand years'\nduration to the men of Gambudv\u00eepa (12), and to perform all manner of\nwonderful works.\"\n\n\"Behold, I am ready to do even as according to thy word,\" answered\nthe Khan's son. \"Tell me only the way I have to take and the manner\nand device whereby I must proceed.\"\n\nThen spoke the great Master and Teacher, N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una, again, saying,--\n\n\"When thou shalt have wandered forth hence for the distance of about\nan hundred miles, thou shalt come to a dark and fearsome ravine where\nlie the bodies of the giant-dead. At thy approach they shall all rise\nup and surround thee. But thou call out to them, 'Ye giant-dead,\nhala hala sv\u00e2h\u00e2 (13)!' scattering abroad at the same time these\nbarley-corns, consecrated by the power of magic art, and pass on thy\nway without fear.\n\nAbout another hundred miles' space farther hence thou shalt come\nto a smooth mead by the side of a river where lie the bodies of\nthe pigmy-dead. At thy approach they shall all rise up and surround\nthee. But thou cry out to them, 'Ye pigmy-dead, hulu hulu sv\u00e2h\u00e2!' and,\nstrewing thine offering of barley-corns, again pass on thy way\nwithout fear.\n\nAt a hundred miles' space farther along thou shalt come to a garden\nof flowers having a grove of trees and a fountain in the midst; here\nlie the bodies of the child-dead. At thy approach they shall rise\nup and running together surround thee. But thou cry out to them, 'Ye\nchild-dead, rira phad!' and, strewing thine offering of barley-corns,\nagain pass on thy way without fear.\n\nOut of the midst of these the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr will rise and will run away\nfrom before thee till he reaches his mango-tree, climbing up to the\nsummit thereof. Then thou swing on high the axe which I will give thee,\neven the axe White Moon (14), and make as though thou wouldst hew\ndown the tree in very truth. Rather than let thee hew the mango-tree\nhe will come down. Then seize him and bind him in this sack of many\ncolours, in which is place for to stow away an hundred, enclose the\nmouth thereof tight with this cord, twisted of an hundred threads of\ndifferent colours, make thy meal off this cake which never grows less,\nplace the sack upon thy shoulder, and bring him hither to me. Only\nbeware that by the way thou open not thy lips to speak!\n\n\"And now, hitherto hast thou been called the Khan's son, but now,\nsince thou hast found thy way even to the cave 'Giver of Rest,' thou\nshalt be called no more the Khan's son, but 'the Well-and-wise-walking\nKhan.' Go now thy way.\"\n\nWhen the Master, N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una, had given him this new name, he further\nprovided him with all the provisions for the undertaking which he\nhad promised him, and, pointing out the way, dismissed him in peace.\n\nWhen the Well-and-wise-walking Khan had overcome all the alarms and\ndifficulties of the way, and come in sight of the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr, he set\nout swiftly to pursue him; but the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr was swifter than he,\nand, reaching the mango-tree, clambered up to the summit. Then said\nthe Well-and-wise-walking Khan, \"Behold, I come in the name of the\ngreat Master and Teacher, N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una. My axe is the axe 'White Moon,'\nmy provision for the journey is the cake which never diminishes,\nmy prison is the sack of many colours, in which is place to stow\naway an hundred, my cord is the cord twisted of an hundred threads of\ndifferent colours, I myself am called the Well-and-wise-walking Khan;\nI command thee, therefore, Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr, that thou come down hither to\nme, otherwise with my axe 'White Moon' will I fell the mango-tree.\"\n\nAt these words the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr cried, in answer, \"Fell not the\nmango-tree. Rather will I come down to thee.\" With that he came\ndown, and the Khan, taking him, put him in his sack of many colours,\nin which was place to stow away an hundred, then he made the mouth\nfast with the cord twisted of an hundred threads of various colours,\nmade his meal off his cake which never diminished, and proceeded on\nhis way to take him to the great Master and Teacher, N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una.\n\nAs they journeyed on thus day after day, and had grown weary, thus\nspoke the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr, \"Long is the journey, and both of us are weary,\ntell thou now a story to enliven it.\"\n\nBut, remembering the words of N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una, \"Beware thou open not thy\nlips to speak,\" he answered him never a word.\n\nThen said the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr again, \"If thou wilt not tell a story to\nlighten the journey, at least listen to one from me, and to this\nthou canst give assent without opening thy lips, if only thou nod\nthy head backwards towards me. At this sign I will tell a tale.\" So\nthe Well-and-wise-walking Khan nodded his head backwards towards the\nSiddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr, and the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr told this tale:--\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE I.\n\nTHE WOMAN WHO SOUGHT HER HUSBAND IN THE PALACE OF ERLIK KHAN.\n\n\nLong ages ago there reigned a young Khan whose father had died early\nand left him in possession of the kingdom. He was a youth comely to\nlook upon, and dazzling in the glory of his might. To him had been\ngiven for his chief wife the daughter of a Khan of the South. But the\nyoung Khan loved not this wife. At a mile's distance from his palace\nthere lived in her father's house a well-grown, beautiful maiden, of\nwhom he had made his second wife; as she was not a Khan's daughter\nhe feared to take her home to his palace, lest he should displease\nhis mother, but he came often to visit her, and as they loved each\nother very much, she asked no more.\n\nOne night, when the moon was brightly shining, some one knocked at\nthe window, the maiden knew it was the Khan's manner of knocking,\nso she opened to him,--but with trembling, for he had never been wont\nto come at that hour; yet by the light of the moonbeam she saw that\nit was indeed himself, only instead of his usual garments, he was\nhabited in shining apparel, which she could hardly look upon for its\nbrightness, and he, himself, too, looked more exceeding beautiful\nthan usual. When he had partaken of her rice-brandy and cakes,\nhe rose and stood upon the doorstep, saying, \"Come, sweet wife,\ncome out together with me;\" and when she had gone a little way with\nhim, he said, \"Come, sweet wife, come a little farther with me.\" And\nwhen she had gone a little farther with him, he said again, \"Come,\nsweet wife, come yet a little farther.\" So she went yet a little\nfarther till they had reached nearly to the gates of the palace, and\nfrom within the courts of the palace there came a noise of shouting\nand playing on instruments. Then inquired she, \"To what end is this\nshouting and this music?\" And he replied, \"It is the noise of the\nsacrifice for the rites of the burial of the Khan (1).\" \"And why\ndo they celebrate the rites of the burial of the Khan?\" she asked,\nnow beginning to fear in earnest. \"Because I am dead, sweet wife, and\nam even now on my way to the deva's kingdom. But thou listen to me,\nand do according to my word, and all shall be well for thee and for\nour son. Behold, even now, within the palace, my mother and my chief\nwife strive together concerning a jewel which is lost. But I have\npurposely hid the jewel under a god's image in the apartment. Thou,\ntherefore, pass the night in this elephant-stable of the palace\nhard by, and there shall our son be born; and in the morning, the\nelephant-tamers finding thee shall bring thee to my mother and my\nchief wife. But thou, take the jewel and give it to the chief wife\nand send her away to her own people. Then shall my mother have joy\nin thee alone and in the child, and you two together shall direct\nthe Government till he be come to man's estate.\" Thus spoke the Khan.\n\nWhile he spoke these words, the wife was so stricken with fear and\ngrief that she fell to the ground senseless, nor knew that he bore\nher into the elephant-stable, and went up to the deva's kingdom.\n\nIn the night their son was born; and in the morning, the\nelephant-tamers coming in, said, \"Here is a woman and a babe lying\nin the elephant-stable; this must not be, who knows but that it\nmight bring evil to the elephants (2)?\" so they raised her up,\nwith her infant, and took her to the Khan's mother. Then she told\nthe Khan's mother all that had befallen her, and as the jewel was\nfound in the place the Khan had told her, it was taken for proof\nof her truth. Accordingly, the jewel was given to the chief wife,\nand she was dismissed to her own people; and as the Khan had left no\nother child, the boy born in the elephant-stable was declared heir,\nand his mother and the Khan's mother directed the Government together\ntill he should come to man's estate.\n\nThus the lowly maiden was established in the palace as the Khan\nhad promised. Moreover, every month, on the fifteenth of the month,\nthe Khan came in the night to visit her, disappearing again with the\nmorning light. When she told this to the Khan's mother, she would not\nbelieve her, because he was invisible to all eyes but hers. And when\nshe protested that she spoke only words of truth, the Khan's mother\nsaid, \"If it be very truth, then obtain of him that his mother may\nsee him also.\"\n\nOn the fifteenth of the month, when he came again, she said therefore\nto him, \"That thou shouldst come thus to see me every month, on the\nfifteenth of the month, is good; but that thou shouldst go away and\nleave me all alone again, this is sad, very sad. Why canst thou not\ncome back and stay with us altogether, without going away any more?\"\n\nAnd he made answer: \"Of a truth there would be one way, but it is\ndifficult and terrible, and it is not given to woman to endure so\nmuch fear and pain.\"\n\nBut she replied, \"If there were but any means to have thee back,\nalways by my side, I would find strength to endure any terror or pain,\neven to the tearing out of the bones from the midst of my flesh.\"\n\n\"This is the means that must be taken then,\" said the Khan: \"Next\nmonth, on the fifteenth of the month, thou must rise when the moon's\nlight is at the full, and go forth abroad a mile's distance towards\nthe regions of the South. There shalt thou meet with an ancient man of\niron, standing on the watch, who, when he shall have drank much molten\nmetal, shall yet cry, 'Yet am I thirsty.' To him give rice-brandy and\npass on. Farther on thou shalt find two he-goats fighting together\nmightily, to them give barm-cakes to eat and pass on. Farther along\nthou shalt find a band of armed men who shall bar thy way; to them\ndistribute meat and pass on. Farther on thou shalt come to a frightful\nmassive black building round which runs a moat filled with human\nblood, and from its portal waves a man's skin for a banner. At its\ndoor stand on guard two terrible erliks (3), servants of Erlik Khan\n(4); to each, offer an offering of blood and pass within the building.\n\n\"In the very midst of the building thou shalt find a Mandala (5)\nformed by eight awful sorcerers, and at the feet of each will lie\na heart which will cry to thee, 'Take me! take me!' In the midst of\nall will be a ninth heart which must cry 'Take me not!'\n\n\"If thou fortified by thy love shall be neither rendered afraid by\nthe aspect of the place, nor terrified by the might of the sorcerers,\nnor confounded by the wailing of the voices, but shalt take up and\nbear away that ninth heart, neither looking backwards nor tarrying\nby the way, then shall it be granted us to live for evermore on\nearth together.\"\n\nThus he spoke; and the morning light breaking, she saw him no\nmore. The wife, however, laid up all his words in her heart; and on\nthe fifteenth of the next month, when the moon shone, she went forth\nall alone without seeking help or counsel from any one, content to\nrely on her husband's words. Nor letting her heart be cast down by\nfear or pain, she distributed to each of those she met by the way\nthe portion he had appointed. At last she reached the Mandala of\nsorcerers, and, regardless of the conflicting cries by which she\nwas assailed, boldly carried off the ninth heart, though it said,\n\"Take me not!\" No sooner had she turned back with her prize than the\neight sorcerers ran calling after her, \"A thief has been in here,\nand has stolen the heart! Guards! Up, and seize her!\" But the Erliks\nbefore the door answered, \"Us she propitiated with a blood-offering;\nwe arrest her not. See you to it.\" So the word was passed on to the\ncompany of armed men who had barred her passage; but they answered,\n\"Us hath she propitiated with a meat-offering; we arrest her not. See\nyou to it.\" Then the word was passed on to the two he-goats. But the\nhe-goats answered, \"Us hath she propitiated with a barm-cake-offering;\nwe arrest her not. See you to it.\" Finally, the word was passed on\nto the ancient man of iron; but he answered, \"Me hath she propitiated\nwith a brandy-offering; I arrest her not.\"\n\nThus with fearless tread she continued all the way to the palace. On\nopening the door of his apartment, the Khan himself came forward to\nmeet her in his beauty and might, and in tenfold glory, never to go\naway from her again any more, and they fell into each other's arms\nin a loving embrace.\n\n\n\n\"Scarcely could a man have held out as bravely as did this\nwoman!\" exclaimed the Khan.\n\nAnd as he uttered these words, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr replied, \"Forgetting his\nhealth, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened his lips.\" And with\nthe cry \"To escape out of this world is good!\" he sped him through\nthe air, swift, out of sight.\n\n\n\nOf the Adventures of the Well-and-wise-walking Khan the first chapter,\nconcerning the Woman who brought back her Husband from the palace\nof Erlik-Khan.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE II.\n\n\nWhen the Well-and-wise-walking Khan found that he had missed the end\nand object of his journey, he forthwith set out again, without loss of\ntime, or so much as returning to his Master and Teacher, N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una,\nbut taking only a meal of his cake which never diminished; thus,\nwith similar toils and fears as the first time, he came again at\nlast to the cool grove where lay the child-dead, and among them the\nSiddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr. And the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr rose up before him, and clambered up\nthe mango-tree. And when the Well-and-wise-walking Khan had summoned\nhim with proud sounding words to come down, threatening that otherwise\nhe would hew down the tree with his axe \"White Moon,\" the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr\ncame down, rather than that he should destroy the mango-tree. Then\nhe bound him again in his bag of many colours, in which was place\nto stow away an hundred, and bound the mouth thereof with the cord\nwoven of an hundred threads of different tints, and bore him along\nto offer to his Master and Teacher, N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una.\n\nBut at the end of many days' journey, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr said,--\n\n\"Now, in truth, is the length of this journey like to weary us even to\ndeath, as we go along thus without speaking. Wherefore, O Prince! let\nme entreat thee beguile the way by telling a tale.\"\n\nBut the Well-and-wise-walking Khan, remembering the words of his\nMaster and Teacher N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una, which he spoke, saying, \"See thou open\nnot thy lips to speak by the way,\" remained silent, and answered him\nnever a word. Then the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr, when he found that he could not be\nbrought to answer him, spake again in this wise: \"If thou wilt not\ntell a tale, then, at least, give some token by which I may know if\nthou willest that I should tell one, and if thou speak not, at least\nnod thine head backwards towards me; then will I tell a tale.\"\n\nSo the Well-and-wise-walking Khan nodded his head backwards towards\nthe Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr, and the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr told this tale, saying,--\n\n\n\nTHE GOLD-SPITTING PRINCE.\n\nLong ages ago there was a far-off country where a mighty Khan\nruled. Near the source of the chief river of this country was a pool,\nwhere lived two Serpent-gods (1), who had command of the water; and\nas they could shut off the water of the river when they pleased, and\nprevent it from overflowing and fertilizing the country, the people\nwere obliged to obey their behest, be it what it might. Now, the\ntribute they exacted of the country was that of a full grown man, to\nbe chosen by lot, every year; and on whoso the lot fell, he had to go,\nwithout redemption, whatever his condition in life. Thus it happened\none year that the lot fell on the Khan himself. In all the kingdom\nthere was no one of equal rank who could be received instead of him,\nunless it had been his only son. When his son would have gone in his\nstead, he answered him, \"What is it to me if the Serpents devour\nme, so that thou, my son, reignest in peace?\" But the son said,\n\"Never shall it be that thou, my Khan and father, shouldst suffer\nthis cruel death, while I remain at home. The thought be far from\nme. Neither will the land receive harm by my death; is not my mother\nyet alive? and other sons may be born to thee, who shall reign over\nthe land.\" So he went to offer himself as food to the Serpent-gods.\n\nAs he went along, the people followed him for a long stretch of the\nway, bewailing him; and then they turned them back. But one there\nwas who turned not back: it was a poor man's son whom the Prince had\nall his life had for his friend; he continued following him. Then the\nPrince turned and said to him, \"Walk thou according to the counsels of\nthy father and thy mother, and be prosperous and happy on the earth. To\ndefend this noble, princely country, and to fulfil the royal word of\nthe Khan, my father, I go forth to be food to the Serpent-gods.\"\n\nBut the poor man's son refused to forsake him. \"Thou hast loaded\nme with goodness and favours,\" he said, as he wept; \"if I may not\ngo instead of thee, at least I will go with thee.\" And he continued\nfollowing the Prince.\n\nWhen they got near the pool, they heard a low, rumbling, horrible\nsound: it was the two Serpent-gods talking together, and talking about\nthem, for they were on the look-out to see who would be sent to them\nthis year for the tribute. The old gold-yellow Serpent was telling\nthe young emerald-green Serpent how the Prince had come instead of\nhis father, and how the poor man, who had no need to come at all,\nhad insisted on accompanying him.\n\n\"And these people are so devoted in giving their lives for one\nanother,\" said the young emerald-green Serpent, \"and have not the\ncourage to come out and fight us, and make an end of paying this\ntribute at all.\"\n\n\"They don't know the one only way to fight us,\" answered the\ngold-yellow old Serpent; \"and as all the modes they have tried have\nalways failed, they imagine it cannot be done, and they try no more.\"\n\n\"And what is the one only way by which they could prevail against\nus?\" inquired the young emerald-green Serpent.\n\n\"They have only to cut off our heads with a blow of a stout\nstaff,\" replied the old gold-yellow Serpent, \"for so has Sh\u00easa,\nthe Serpent-d\u00e6mon, appointed.\"\n\n\"But these men carry shining swords that look sharp and fearful,\"\nurged the young emerald-green Serpent.\n\n\"That is it!\" rejoined the other: \"their swords avail nothing against\nus, and so they never think that a mere staff should kill us. Also,\nif after cutting off our heads they were to eat them, they would be\nable to spit as much gold and precious stones as ever they liked. But\nthey know nothing of all this,\" chuckled the old gold-yellow Serpent.\n\nMeantime, the Prince had not lost a word of all that the two Serpents\nhad said to each other, for his mother had taught him the speech\nof all manner of creatures. So when he first heard the noise of the\nSerpents talking together, he had stood still, and listened to their\nwords. Now, therefore, he told it all again to his follower, and they\ncut two stout staves in the wood, and then drew near, and cut off the\nheads of the Serpents with the staves--each of them one; and when\nthey had cut them off, the Prince ate the head of the gold-yellow\nSerpent, and, see! he could spit out as much gold money as ever he\nliked; and his follower ate the head of the emerald-green Serpent,\nand he could spit out emeralds as many as ever he pleased.\n\nThen spoke the poor man's son: \"Now that we have killed the Serpents,\nand restored the due course of the water to our native country,\nlet us return home and live at peace.\"\n\nBut the Khan's son answered, \"Not so, for if we went back to our own\nland, the people would only mock us, saying, 'The dead return not to\nthe living!' and we should find no place among them. It is better we\nbetake ourselves to another country afar off, which knows us not.\"\n\nSo they journeyed on through a mountain pass.\n\nAt the foot of the mountains they came to the habitation of a beautiful\nwoman and her daughter, selling strong drink to travellers. Here they\nstopped, and would have refreshed themselves, but the women asked\nthem what means they had to pay them withal, for they saw they looked\nsoiled with travel. \"We will pay whatever you desire,\" replied the\nPrince; and he began to spit out gold coin upon the table. When the\nwomen saw that he spat out as much gold coin as ever he would, they\ntook them inside, and gave them as much drink as they could take,\nmaking them pay in gold, and at many times the worth of the drink,\nfor they no longer knew what they did; only when they had made them\nquite intoxicated, and they could not get any thing more from them,\nin despite of all sense of gratitude or hospitality, they turned them\nout to pass the night on the road.\n\nWhen they woke in the morning, they journeyed farther till they came\nto a broad river; on its banks was a palm-grove, and a band of boys\nwere gathered together under it quarrelling.\n\n\"Boys! what are you disputing about?\" inquired the Prince.\n\n\"We found a cap on this palm-tree,\" answered one of the boys, \"and\nwe are disputing whose it shall be, because we all want it.\"\n\n\"And what use would the cap be to you? What is it good for?\" asked\nthe Prince.\n\n\"Why, that whichever of us gets it has only to put it on,\" replied the\nboy, \"and he immediately becomes invisible to gods, men, and d\u00e6mons.\"\n\n\"I will settle the dispute for you,\" rejoined the Prince. \"You all of\nyou get you to the far end of this palm-grove, and start back running,\nall fair, together. Whichever wins the race shall be reckoned to have\nwon the cap. Give it to me to hold the while.\"\n\nThe boys said, \"It is well spoken;\" and giving the cap to the Prince,\nthey set off to go to the other end of the grove. But they were no\nsooner well on their way, than the Prince put on the cap, and then\njoining hands with his companion, both became invisible to gods, men,\nand d\u00e6mons; so that when the boys came back at full speed, though\nthey were both yet standing in the same place, none of them could\nsee them. After wandering about to look for them in vain, they at\nlast gave it up in despair, and went away crying with disappointment.\n\nThe Prince and his follower continued their journey by the side of\nthe stream till they came to a broad road, and here at the cross-way\nwas a crowd of d\u00e6mons assembled, who were all chattering aloud,\nand disputing vehemently.\n\n\"D\u00e6mons! What are you quarrelling about?\" asked the Prince.\n\n\"We found this pair of boots here,\" answered the d\u00e6mons, \"and whoever\nputs these boots on has only to wish that he might be in a particular\nplace, and immediately arrives there; and we cannot agree which of\nus is to have the boots.\"\n\n\"I will settle the dispute for you,\" replied the Prince. \"You all go\nup to the end of this road, and run back hither all of you together,\nand whichever of you wins the race, he shall be reckoned to have won\nthe boots. Give them to me to hold the while.\"\n\nSo the d\u00e6mons answered, \"It is well spoken;\" and giving the boots\nto the Prince, they set off to go to the far end of the road. But\nby the time they got back the Prince had put on the invisible cap,\nand joining hands with his companion had become invisible to gods,\nmen, and d\u00e6mons, so that for all their looking there was no trace of\nthem to be found. Thus they had to give up the lucky boots, and went\ntheir way howling for disappointment.\n\nAs soon as they were gone the Prince and his follower began to examine\nthe boots, and to ponder what they should do with their treasure.\n\n\"A great gift and a valuable,\" said the latter, \"hath been given\nthee, O Prince, by the favour of fortune, and thy wisdom in acquiring\nit. Wish now to reach a prosperous place to be happy; but for me I\nshall not know where thou art gone, and I shall see thy face no more.\"\n\nBut the Prince said, \"Nay, but wheresoever I go, thou shalt go\ntoo. Here is one boot for me, and the other for thee, and when we have\nboth put them on we will wish to be in the place where at this moment\nthere is no Khan, and we will then see what is further to be done.\"\n\nSo the Prince put on the right boot, and his follower the left boot,\nand they laid them down to sleep, and both wished that they might\ncome to a land where there was no Khan.\n\nWhen they woke in the morning they found themselves lying in\nthe hollow of an ancient tree, in the outskirts of a great city,\novershadowing the place where the election of the Khan was wont\nto be made. As soon as day broke the people began to assemble,\nand many ceremonies were performed. At last the people said,\n\"Let us take one of the Baling-cakes out of the straw sacrifice,\nand throw it up into the air, and on to whosoever's head it falls\nhe shall be our Khan. So they took the Baling-cake out of the straw\nsacrifice, and it fell into the hollow tree. And the people said,\n\"We must choose some other mode of divination, for the Baling-cake\nhas failed. Shall a hollow tree reign over us?\"\n\nBut others said, \"Let us see what there may be inside the hollow tree.\"\n\nThus when they came to look into the tree they found the Prince and\nhis follower. So they drew them out and said, \"These shall rule over\nus.\" But others said, \"How shall we know which of these two is the\nKhan?\" While others again cried, \"These men are but strangers and\nvagabonds. How then shall they reign over us?\"\n\nBut to the Prince and his follower they said, \"Whence are ye? and\nhow came ye in the hollow tree?\"\n\nThen the Prince began spitting gold coin, and his follower precious\nemeralds. And while the people were busied in gathering the gold\nand the emeralds they installed themselves in the palace, and made\nthemselves Khan and Chief Minister, and all the people paid them\nhomage.\n\nWhen they had learned the ways of the kingdom and established\nthemselves well in it, the new Khan said to his Minister that he\nmust employ himself to find a wife worthy of the Khan. To whom the\nMinister made answer,--\n\n\"Behold, beautiful among women is the daughter of the last Khan. Shall\nnot she be the Khan's wife?\"\n\nThe Khan found his word good, and desired that she should be brought to\nhim; when he found she was fair to see, he took her into the palace,\nand she became his wife. But she was with him as one whose thoughts\nwere fixed on another.\n\nNow on the outskirts of the city was a noble palace, well kept and\nfurnished, and surrounded with delicious gardens; but no one lodged\nthere. Only the Minister took note that every third day the Khan's\nwife went out softly and unattended, and betook herself to this palace.\n\n\"Now,\" thought the Minister to himself, \"wherefore goes the Khan's\nwife every third day to this palace, softly and unattended? I must\nsee this thing.\"\n\nSo he put on the cap which they had of the boys in the palm-grove,\nand followed the Khan's wife as he saw her go the palace, and having\nfound a ladder he entered by a window as she came up the stairs. Then\nhe followed her into a sumptuous apartment all fitted with carpets\nand soft cushions, and a table spread with delicious viands and\ncooling drinks. The Khan's wife, however, reclined her on none of\nthese cushions, but went out by a private door for a little space,\nand when she returned she was decked as never she had been when\nshe went before the Khan. The room was filled with perfume as she\napproached, her hair was powdered with glittering jewels, and her\nattire was all of broidered silk, while her throat, and arms, and\nankles were wreathed with pearls. The Minister hardly knew her again;\nand with his cap, which made him invisible to gods, men, and d\u00e6mons,\nhe approached quite near to look at her, while she, having no suspicion\nof his presence, continued busy with preparations as for some coming\nevent. On a vast circle of porphyry she lighted a fire of sandal wood,\nover which she scattered a quantity of odoriferous powders, uttering\nwords the while which it was beyond the power of the Minister to\nunderstand. While she was thus occupied, there came a most beautiful\nbird with many-coloured wings swiftly flying through the open window,\nand when he had soared round three times in the soft vapour of the\nsweet-scented gums the Princess had been burning, there appeared a bird\nno longer, but Cuklaketu, the beautiful son of the gods, surpassing\nall words in his beauty. The transformation was no sooner effected,\nthan they embraced each other, and reclining together on the silken\ncouches, feasted on the banquet that was laid out.\n\nAfter a time, Cuklaketu rose to take leave, but before he went, he\nsaid, \"Now you are married to the husband heaven has appointed you,\ntell me how it is with him.\"\n\nAt these words the Minister, jealous for his master, grew very\nattentive that he might learn what opinion the Khan's wife had of his\nmaster and what love she had for him. But she answered prudently,\n\"How it will be with him I know not yet, for he is still young;\nI cannot as yet know any thing of either his merits or defects.\"\n\nAnd with that they parted; Cuklaketu flying away in the form of\na beautiful bird with many-coloured wings as he had come, and the\nKhan's wife exchanging her glittering apparel for the mantle in which\nshe came from the Khan's palace.\n\nThe next time that she went out to this palace, the Minister put\non his cap and followed her again and witnessed the same scene,\nonly when Cuklaketu was about to take leave this time, he said,\n\"To-morrow, I shall come and see what your husband is like.\" And\nwhen she asked him, \"By what token shall I know you?\" he answered,\n\"I will come under the form of a swallow, and will perch upon his\nthrone.\" With that they parted; but the Minister went and stood before\nthe Khan and told him all that he had seen.\n\n\"But thou, O Khan,\" proceeded the Minister, \"Cause thou a great fire\nto be kept burning before the throne; and I, standing there with the\ncap rendering me invisible to gods, men, and d\u00e6mons, on my head, will\nbe on the look out for the swallow, and when he appears, I will seize\nhim by the feathers of his tail and dash him into the fire; then must\nthou, O Khan, slay him, and hew him in pieces with thy sword.\"\n\nAnd so it was, for the next morning early, while the Khan and his\nConsort were seated with all their Court in due order of rank,\nthere came a swallow, all smirk and sprightly, fluttering around\nthem, and at last it perched on the Khan's throne. The Princess\nwatched his every movement with delighted eyes, but the Minister,\nwho waited there wearing his cap which made him invisible to gods,\nmen, and d\u00e6mons, no sooner saw him perch on the throne, than he seized\nhim by the feathers of his tail and flung him on the fire. The swallow\nsucceeded in fluttering out of the fire, but as the Khan had drawn his\nsword to slay him and hew him in pieces, the Princess caught his arm\nand held it tight, so that the swallow just managed to fly away with\nhis singed wings through the open window. Meantime, the Princess was\nso overcome with fear and excitement that she fainted away into the\narms of the attendants, who were struck with wonder that she should\ncare so much about an injury done to a little bird.\n\nAs soon as the day came round for her to go to the palace in the\noutskirts of the city, again the Minister did not fail to follow\nclosely on her steps. He observed that she prepared every thing\nwith greater attention than before and decked herself out with more\ncostly robes and more glittering gems. But when the minutes passed by\nand the beautiful bird still appeared not, her fear waxed stronger\nand stronger, and she stood gazing, without taking her eyes off the\nsky. At last, and only when it was already late, Cuklaketu came flying\npainfully and feebly, and when he had exchanged his bird disguise for\nthe human form, the traces of the treatment the Minister had given\nhim were plainly visible in many frightful blisters and scars.\n\nWhen the Princess saw him in this evil plight, she lifted up her\nvoice, and wept aloud. But the Prince comforted her with his great\nsteadfastness under the infliction, only he was obliged to tell her\nthat both his human body and his bird feathers being thus marred, it\nwould be impossible for him to come and visit her more. \"But,\" he said,\n\"the Khan, thy husband, has proved himself to exceed me in his might,\ntherefore he has won thee from me.\" So after much leave-taking, they\nparted; and Cuklaketu flew away as well as his damaged wings would\ncarry him.\n\nIt was observed that after this the Princess grew much more attached\nto her husband, and the Khan rejoiced in the sagacity and faithfulness\nof his Minister.\n\nNor was this the only use the Minister made of his cap, which made him\ninvisible to gods, men, and d\u00e6mons. He was enabled by its means to see\nmany things that were not rightly conducted, to correct many evils,\npunish many offenders who thought to escape justice, and learn many\nuseful arts.\n\nOne day as he was walking with this cap upon his head, he came to a\ntemple where, the door being closed, a servant of the temple, thinking\nhimself alone, began disporting himself after the following manner:\nFirst, he took out from under a statue of Buddha a large roll of paper,\non which was painted a donkey. Having spread it out flat on the floor\nof the temple, he danced round it five times; and immediately on\ncompleting the fifth turn, he became transformed into a donkey like\nthe one that was painted on the paper. In this form he pranced about\nfor some time, and brayed till he was tired, then he got on to the\npaper again, on his hind legs, and danced round five times as before,\nand immediately he appeared again in his natural form. When at last he\ngrew tired of the amusement he rolled up his paper, and replaced it\nunder the image of Buddha, whence he had taken it. He had no sooner\ndone so than the Minister, under cover of his cap, which made him\ninvisible to gods, men, and d\u00e6mons, possessed himself of the paper\nwhich had such mysterious properties, and betook himself with it to\nthe dwelling of the beautiful woman and her daughter who sold strong\ndrink to travellers, who had treated his master and him so shamefully\nat the outset of their travels.\n\nWhen they saw him approach, for he now no longer wore the invisible\ncap, they began to fear he had come to bring them retribution, and\nthey asked him with the best grace they could assume what was his\npleasure. But he, to win their confidence, that he might the better\ncarry out his scheme, replied,--\n\n\"To reward you for your handsome treatment of me and my companion,\ntherefore am I come.\" And at the same time he gave them a handful of\ngold coin.\n\nAnd they, recollecting what profit they had derived from his companion\nbefore, and deeming it likely there might be means for turning the\npresent visit to similar good account, asked him what were his means\nfor being able to be so lavish of the precious metal.\n\n\"Oh, that is easily told,\" replied the Minister. \"It is true I have not\nthe faculty of spitting gold coin out of my mouth like my companion,\nas you doubtless remember, but I have another way, equally efficacious,\nof coming into possession of all the money I can possibly desire.\"\n\n\"And what may that way be?\" inquired mother and daughter together in\ntheir eagerness.\n\n\"I have only to spread out this roll of paper on the ground,\" and he\nshowed them the roll that he had taken from under the image of Buddha\nin the temple, \"and dance five times round it, and immediately I find\nmyself in possession of as much gold as I can carry.\"\n\n\"What a treasure to possess is that same roll of paper,\" cried the\nwomen, and they exchanged looks expressing the determination each\nhad immediately conceived, of possessing themselves of it.\n\n\"But now,\" proceeded the Minister, not appearing to heed their mutual\nsigns, though inwardly rejoicing that they had shown themselves so\nready to fall into his snare,\" but now pour me out to drink, for I\nam weary with the journey, and thirsty, and your drink I remember\nis excellent.\"\n\nThe women, on their part, were equally rejoiced that he had given them\nthe opportunity of plying him, and did not wait to be asked twice. The\nMinister continued to drink, and the women to pour out drink to him,\ntill he was in a state of complete unconsciousness.\n\nThey no sooner found him arrived at this helpless condition than they\ntook possession of the mysterious roll, and forthwith spreading it\nout on the ground, proceeded to dance round it five times after the\nmanner prescribed.\n\nWhen the Minister came to himself, therefore, he found his scheme\nhad fully taken effect, and the woman and her daughter were standing\nheavy and chapfallen in the form of two asses. The Minister put a\nbridle in their mouth, and led them off to the Khan, saying,--\n\n\"These, O Khan, are the women who sell strong drink to travellers,\nand who entreated us so shamefully at the time when having slain\nthe dragons we went forth on our travels. I have transformed them\nby my art into two asses. Now, therefore, shall there not be given\nthem burdens of wood, and burdens of stone to carry, heavy burdens,\nso that they may be punished for their naughtiness?\"\n\nAnd the Khan gave orders that it should be done as he had said. But\nwhen at the end of five years, they were well weighed down with the\nheavy burdens, and the Khan saw them wearied and trembling, and human\ntears running down from their eyes, he called the Minister to him,\nand said,--\n\n\"Take these women, and do them no more harm, for their punishment\nis enough.\"\n\nSo the Minister fetched the paper, and having spread it out on the\nground, placed the women on it, making them stand on their hind legs,\nand led them round it five several times till they resumed their\nnatural form. But with the treatment they had undergone, both were\nnow so bowed, and shrunk, and withered, that no one could know them\nfor the beautiful women they had been.\n\n\n\n\"As well might he have left them under the form of asses, as restore\ntheir own shape in such evil plight,\" here exclaimed the Khan.\n\nAnd as he let these words escape him, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr replied,--\n\n\"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened\nhis lips.\" And with the cry, \"To escape out of this world is good!\" he\nsped him through the air, swift out of sight.\n\n\n\nThus far of the Adventures of the Well-and-wise-walking Khan the\nsecond chapter, concerning the deeds of the Gold-spitting Prince and\nhis Minister.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE III.\n\n\nWhen the Well-and-wise-walking Khan found that once again he had\nmissed the end and object of his labour, he set out anew without\nloss of time and without hesitation, and journeyed through toil and\nterror till he came to the cool grove where rested the bodies of the\ndead. The Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr at his approach ran away before his face, and\nclambered up the mango-tree; but when the Well-and-wise-walking Khan\nhad threatened to fell it, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr came down to him rather\nthan that he should destroy the precious mango-tree. Then he bound\nhim in his bag and laded him on to his shoulder, and bore him away\nto offer to the Master and Teacher N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una.\n\nBut after they had journeyed many days and spoken nothing, the\nSiddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr said, \"See, we are like to die of weariness if we go\non journeying thus day by day without conversing. Tell now thou,\ntherefore, a tale to relieve the weariness of the way.\"\n\nThe Well-and-wise-walking Khan, however, mindful of the word of his\nMaster and Teacher N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una, saying, \"See thou speak never a word\nby the way,\" answered him nothing, neither spake at all.\n\nThen said the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr, \"If thou wilt not tell a tale, at least\ngive me some token by which I may know that thou willest I should\ntell one, and without speaking, nod thy head backwards towards me,\nand I will tell a tale.\"\n\nSo the Well-and-wise-walking Khan nodded his head backwards, and the\nSiddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr told this tale saying,--\n\n\n\nHOW THE SCHIMNU-KHAN WAS SLAIN.\n\nLong ages ago there lived on the banks of a mighty river a man who\nhad no wife, and no family, and no possessions, but only one cow; and\nwhen he mourned because he had no children, and his cow had no calf,\nand that he had no milk and no butter to live upon, his cow one day\ngave birth, not to a calf, but to a monster, which seemed only to be\nsent to mock him in his misery and distress; for while it had the head,\nand horns, and long tail of a bull, it had the body of a man. Never was\nsuch an ugly monster seen, and when the poor man considered it he said,\n\"What shall I now do with this monster? It is not good for him to live;\nI will fetch my bow and arrows, and will make an end of him.\" But\nwhen he had strung his bow and fixed his arrow, Massang of the bull's\nhead, seeing what he was going to do, cried out, \"Master, slay me not;\nand doubt not but that your clemency shall have its reward.\"\n\nAt these words the poor man was moved to clemency, and he put up his\narrows again, and let Massang live, but he turned away his face from\nbeholding him. When Massang saw that his master could not look upon\nhim, he turned him and fled into the woods, and wandered on till he\ncame to a place where was a black-coloured man sitting at the foot\nof a tree. Seeing him, Massang said, \"Who and whence art thou?\"\n\nAnd the black-coloured man made answer, \"I am a full-grown man of\ngood understanding, born of the dark woods.\"\n\nAnd Massang said, \"Whither goest thou? I will go with thee and be\nthy companion.\"\n\nAnd the black-coloured man got up, and they wandered on together\ntill they came to a place in the open meadow, where they saw a\ngreen-coloured man sitting on the grass. Seeing him, Massang said,\n\"Who and whence art thou?\"\n\nAnd the green-coloured man replied, \"I am a full-grown man of good\nunderstanding, born of the green meadows; take me with you too,\nand I will be your companion.\"\n\nAnd he wandered on with the other two, Massang and the black-coloured\nman, till they came to a place where was a white-coloured man sitting\non a crystal rock. Seeing him, Massang said, \"Who and whence art thou?\"\n\nAnd the white-coloured man replied, \"I am a full-grown man of good\nunderstanding, born of the crystal rock; take me with you, and let\nme be your companion.\"\n\nAnd he wandered on with the other three, Massang, and the\nblack-coloured man, and the green-coloured man, till they came to a\nstream flowing between barren sandy banks; and farther along was a\ngrass-clad hill with a little dwelling on the top. Of this dwelling\nthey took possession, and inside it they found provisions of every\nkind; and in the yard cattle and all that was required to maintain\nlife. Here, therefore, they dwelt; three of them going out every day\nto hunt, and one staying at home to keep guard over the place.\n\nNow the first day, Massang went to the hunt, and took with him the\nwhite-coloured man and the green-coloured man; the black-coloured\nman being thus left in charge of the homestead, set himself to\nprepare the dinner. He had made the butter, and sat with the milk\nsimmering, cooking the meat (1), when he heard a rustling sound as of\none approaching stealthily. Looking round to discover who came there,\nhe saw a little old woman not more than a span high, carrying a bundle\nno bigger than an apple on her back, coming up a ladder she had set\nready for herself, without asking leave or making any sort of ceremony.\n\n\"Lackaday!\" cried the little old woman, speaking to herself,\n\"methinks I see a youngster cooking good food.\" But to him she said\nin a commanding tone, \"Listen to me now, and give me some of thy milk\nand meat to taste.\"\n\nThough she was so small, she wore such a weird, uncanny air that the\nblack-coloured man, though he had boasted of being a full-grown man\nof good understanding, durst not say her \"Nay;\" though he contented\nhimself with keeping to the letter of her behest, and only gave her\nthe smallest possible morsel of the food he had prepared, only just\nenough, as she had said, \"to taste.\" But lo and behold! no sooner had\nshe put the morsel to her lips than the whole portion disappeared,\nmeat, milk, pot and all; and, more marvellous still, the little old\nwife had disappeared with them.\n\nAshamed at finding himself thus overmatched by such a little old\nwench, he reasoned with himself that he must invent something to\ntell his companions which should have a more imposing sound than\nthe sorry story of what had actually occurred. Turning over all his\nbelongings to help himself to an idea, he found two horse's-hoofs,\nand with these he made the marks as of many horsemen all round the\ndwelling, and then shot his own arrow into the middle of the yard.\n\nHe had hardly finished these preparations when his companions came\nhome from the hunt.\n\n\"Where is our meal?\" inquired they. \"Where is the butter you were to\nhave made, and the meat you were to have cooked?\"\n\n\"Scarcely had I made all ready,\" replied the black-coloured man,\n\"than a hundred strange men, on a hundred wild horses, came tearing\nthrough the place; and what could I do to withstand a hundred? Thus\nthey have taken all the butter, and milk, and meat, and me they beat\nand bound, so that I have had enough to do to set myself free, and\nscarcely can I move from the effect of their blows. Go out now and\nsee for yourselves.\"\n\nSo they went out; and when they saw the marks of the horses'-hoofs\nall round the dwelling, and the arrow shot into the middle of the\ncourtyard, they said, \"He hath spoken true things.\"\n\nThe next day Massang went to the hunt, and took with him the\nblack-coloured man and the white-coloured man. The green-coloured man\nbeing thus left in charge of the homestead, set himself to prepare the\ndinner; and it was no sooner ready than the little old wife came in,\nas she had done the day before, and played the same game.\n\n\"This is doubtless how it fell out with the black-coloured man,\"\nsaid he to himself, as soon as she was gone; \"but neither can I own\nthat I was matched by such a little old wife, nor yet can I tell the\nsame story about the horsemen. I know what I will do: I will fetch\nup a yoke of oxen, and make them tramp about the place, and when the\nothers come home, I will say some men came by with a herd of cattle,\nand, overpowering me, carried off the victuals.\" All this he did;\nand when his companions came home, and saw for themselves the marks\nthe oxen had made in tramping up the soil, they said, \"He hath spoken\ntrue things.\"\n\nThe day after, Massang went hunting, and took with him the\nblack-coloured man and the green-coloured man. The white-coloured\nman being left in charge of the homestead, set himself to prepare\nthe dinner. Nor was it long before the same little old woman who had\nvisited his companions made her appearance; and soon she had made an\nend of all the provisions. \"This is doubtless how it fell out with\nthe green-coloured man yesterday, and the black-coloured man the\nday before,\" said the white-coloured man to himself; \"but neither\ncan I own any more than they that I was overmatched by such a little\nold wife, nor yet can I tell the same story as they.\" So he fetched\na mule in from the field, and made it trot all round the dwelling,\nthat when his companions came in he might tell them that a party of\nmerchants had been by, with a file of mules carrying their packs of\nmerchandize, who had held him bound, and eaten up the provisions.\n\nAll this he did; and when his companions came home, and saw for\nthemselves the marks of the mule-hoofs all round the dwelling, they\nsaid, \"He hath spoken true things.\"\n\nThe next day it was Massang's turn to stay at home, nor did he neglect\nthe duty which fell upon him of cooking the food against the return\nof the rest. As he sat thus occupied, up came the little old woman,\nas on all the other days.\n\n\"Lackaday!\" she exclaimed, as she set eyes on him. \"Methinks I\nsee a youngster cooking good food!\" And to him she cried, in her\nimperious tone, \"Listen to me now, and give me some of thy milk and\nmeat to taste.\"\n\nWhen Massang saw her, he said within himself, \"Surely now this is she\nwho hath appeared to the other three; and when they said that strangers\nhad broken in, and overpowered them, and stolen the food, was it not\nthat she is a witch-woman and enchanted it away. She only asks to taste\nit; but if I do her bidding, who knows what may follow?\" So he observed\nher, that he might discover what way there was of over-matching her;\nthus he espied her bundle, and bethought him it contained the means\nof her witcheries. To possess himself of it he had first to devise\nthe means of getting her to go an errand, and leave it behind her.\n\n\"Belike you could help me to some fresh water, good wife,\" he said,\nin a simple, coaxing tone; and she, thinking to serve her purpose by\nkeeping on good terms with him, replied,--\n\n\"That can I; but give me wherewithal to fetch it.\"\n\nTo keep her longer absent, he gave her a pail with a hole in it,\nwith which she went out. Looking after her, he saw that she made\nher way straight up to the clouds, and squeezed one into her pail,\nbut no sooner was it poured in, than it ran out again. Meantime, he\npossessed himself of her bundle, and turned it over; withal it was\nnot so big as an apple, it contained many things: a hank of catgut,\nwhich he exchanged for a hank of hempen cord; an iron hammer, which\nhe exchanged for a wooden mallet; and a pair of iron pincers, which\nhe exchanged for wooden ones.\n\nHe had hardly tied up the bundle again, when the old woman came back,\nvery angry with the trick that had been played upon her with the\nleaking pail, and exclaiming, \"How shall water be brought in a pail\nwhere there is a hole?\" Then she added further, and in a yet angrier\nkey, \"If thou wilt not give me to taste of thy food, beware! for then\nall that thou hast becomes mine.\" And when she found that he heeded\nher not, but went on with what he was doing, just as if she had not\nspoken, she cried out, furiously,--\n\n\"If we are not to be on good terms, we must e'en match our strength;\nif we are not to have peace, we must have war; if I may not eat with\nyou, I will fight you.\"\n\n\"That I am ready for,\" answered Massang, as one sure of an easy\nvictory.\n\n\"Not so confident!\" replied the old one. \"Though I am small and thou\nso big, yet have I overcome mightier ones than thou.\"\n\n\"In what shall we match our strength?\" said Massang, not heeding\nher banter.\n\n\"We will have three trials,\" replied the old one; \"the cord proof,\nthe hammer proof, and the pincers proof. And first the cord proof. I\nwill first bind thee, and if thou canst burst my bonds, well; then\nthou shalt also bind me.\"\n\nThen Massang saw that he had done well to possess himself of her\ninstruments, but he gave assent to her mode of proof, and let her\nbind him as tight as ever she would; but as she had only the hempen\ncord to bind him with, which he had put in her bundle in place of\nthe catgut, he broke it easily with his strength, and set himself\nfree again. Then he bound her with the catgut, so that she was not\nable by any means to unloose herself.\n\n\"True, herein thou hast conquered,\" she owned, as she lay bound and\nunable to move, \"but now we will have the pincers proof.\" And as he\nhad promised to wage three trials with her, he set her free.\n\nThen with her pincers she took him by the breast; but, as he had\nchanged her iron pincers for the wooden ones, he hardly felt the\npinch, and she did him no harm. But when, with her iron pincers, he\nseized her, she writhed and struggled so that he pulled out a piece\nof flesh as big as an earthen pot, and she cried out in great pain.--\n\n\"Of a truth thou art a formidable fellow, but now we will have the\nhammer proof,\" and she made Massang lie down; but when she would\nhave given him a powerful blow on the chest with her iron hammer,\nthe handle of the wooden mallet Massang had given her in its stead\nbroke short off, and she was not able to hurt him. But Massang made\nher iron hammer glowing hot in the fire, and belaboured her both on\nthe head and body so that she was glad to escape at the top of her\nspeed and howling wildly.\n\nAs she flew past, Massang's three companions came in from hunting\nand said, \"Surely now you have had a trial to endure.\" And Massang\nanswered,--\n\n\"Of a truth you are miserable fellows all, and moreover have\nspoken that which is not true. Was it like men to let yourselves\nbe overmatched by a little old wife? But now I have tamed her, let\nbe. Let us go and seek for her corpse; maybe we shall find treasure\nin the place where she lays it.\"\n\nWhen they heard him speak of treasure they willingly went out after\nhim, and, following the track of blood which had fallen from the\nwitch-woman's wounds as she went along, they came to a place where\nwas an awful cleft in a mighty rock, and peeping through they saw, far\nbelow, the bloody body of the old witch-woman, lying on a heap of gold\nand jewels and shining adamant armour and countless precious things.\n\nThen Massang said, \"Shall you three go down and hand me up the spoil\nby means of a rope of which I will hold the end, or shall I go down\nand hand it up to you?\"\n\nBut they three all made answer together, \"This woman is manifestly\nnone other but a Schimnu (2). We dare not go near her. Go you down.\"\n\nSo Massang let himself down by the rope, and sent up the spoil by the\nsame means to his companions, who when they had possession of it said\nthus to one another,--\n\n\"If we draw Massang up again, we cannot deny in verity that the spoil\nis his, as he has won it in every way, but if we leave him down below\nit becomes ours.\" So they left him below, and when he looked that\nthey should have hauled him up they gave never a sign or sound. When\nhe saw that, he said thus to himself, \"My three companions have left\nme here that they may enjoy the spoil alone. For me nothing is left\nbut to die!\"\n\nBut as it grieved him so to die in his health and strength, he cast\nabout him to see whether in all that cave which had been so full\nof valuables there was not something stored that was good for food,\nyet found he nothing save three cherry-stones.\n\nSo he took the cherry-stones and planted them in the earth, saying,\n\"If I be truly Massang, may these be three full-grown cherry-trees by\nthe time I wake; but if not, then let me die the death.\" And with that\nhe laid him down to sleep with the body of the Schimnu for a pillow.\n\nBeing thus defiled by contact with the corpse, he slept for many\nyears. When at last he woke, he found that three cherry-trees had\nsprung up from the seeds he planted and now reached to the top of\nthe rock. Rejoicing greatly therefore, he climbed up by their means\nand reached the earth.\n\nFirst he bent his steps to his late dwelling, to look for his\ncompanions, but it was deserted, and no one lived therein. So, taking\nhis iron bow and his arrows, he journeyed farther.\n\nPresently he came to a place where there were three fine houses,\nwith gardens and fields and cattle and all that could be desired by\nthe heart of man. These were the houses which his three companions\nhad built for themselves out of the spoil of the cave. And when he\nwould have gone in, their wives said--for they had taken to them wives\nalso--\"Thy companions are not here; they are gone out hunting.\" So he\ntook up his iron bow and his arrows again, and went on to seek them,\nand as he went by the way he saw them coming towards him with the\ngame they had taken with their bows. Then he strung his iron bow and\nwould have shot at them; but they, falling down before him, cried out,\n\"Slay us not. Only let us live, and behold our houses, and our wives,\nand our cattle, and all that we have is in thine hand, to do with it\nas it seemeth good to thee.\"\n\nThen he put up his arrows again, and said to them only these words,\n\"In truth, friends, ye dealt evilly with me in that ye left me to\nperish in the cave.\"\n\nBut they, owning their fault, again begged him that he would stay with\nthem and let their house be his house, and they entreated him. But\nhe would not stay with them, saying,--\n\n\"A promise is upon me, which I made when my master would have killed\nme and I entreated him to spare my life, for I said to him that I\nwould repay his clemency to him if he spared me. Now, therefore,\nlet me go that I may seek him out.\"\n\nThen, when they heard those words, they let him go, and he journeyed\non farther to find out his master.\n\nOne day of his journey, as he was wearied with walking, he sat down\ntowards evening by the side of a well, and as he sat an enchantingly\nbeautiful maiden came towards the well as if to draw water, and as\nshe came along he saw with astonishment that at every footstep as she\nlifted up her feet a fragrant flower sprang up out of the ground (3),\none after another wherever she touched the ground. Massang stretched\nout his hand to offer to draw water for her, but she stopped not at\nthe fountain but passed on, and Massang, in awe at her beauty and\npower, durst not speak to her, but rose up and followed behind her\nthe whole way she went.\n\nOn went the maiden, and ever on followed Massang, over burning plain\nand through fearful forest, past the sources of mighty rivers and over\nthe snow-clad peaks of the everlasting mountains (4), till they reached\nthe dwelling of the gods and the footstool of dread Churmusta (5).\n\nThen spoke Churmusta,--\n\n\"That thou art come hither is good. Every day now we have to sustain\nthe fight with the black Schimnu; to-morrow thou shalt be spectator\nof the fray, and the next day thou shall take part in it.\"\n\nThe next day Massang stood at the foot of Churmusta's throne, and\nthe gods waited around in silence. Massang saw a great herd as of\nblack oxen, as it were early in the morning, driven with terror to\nthe east side by a herd as of white oxen; and again he saw as it\nwere late in the evening, the herd as of white oxen driven to the\nwest side by the herd as of black oxen.\n\nThen spoke the great Churmusta,--\n\n\"Behold the white oxen are the gods. The black oxen are the\nSchimnus. To-morrow, when thou seest the herd as of black oxen driving\nback the white, then string thine iron bow, and search out for thy\nmark a black ox, bearing a white star on his forehead. Then send\nthine arrow through the white star, for he is the Schimnu-Khan.\n\nThus spoke the dread Churmusta.\n\nThe next day Massang stood ready with his bow, and did even as\nChurmusta had commanded. With an arrow from his iron bow he pierced\nthrough the white star on the forehead of the black ox, and sent him\naway roaring and bellowing with pain.\n\nThen spake the dread Churmusta,--\n\n\"Bravely hast thou dealt, and well hast thou deserved of me. Therefore\nthou shalt have thy portion with me, and dwell with me for ever.\"\n\nBut Massang answered,--\n\n\"Nay, for though I tarried at thy behest to do thy bidding, a promise\nis upon me which I made when my master would have taken my life. For\nI said, 'Spare me now, and be assured I will repay thy clemency.'\"\n\nThen Churmusta commended him, and bid him do even as he had\nsaid. Furthermore he gave him a talisman to preserve him by the way,\nand gave him this counsel,--\n\n\"Journeying, thou shalt be overcome by sleep, and having through\nsleeping forgotten the way, thou shalt arrive at the gate\nof the Schimnu-Khan. Then beware that thou think not to save\nthyself by flight. Knock, rather, boldly at the door, saying,\n'I am a physician.' When they hear that they will bring thee to the\nSchimnu-Khan that thou mayest try thine art in drawing out the arrow\nfrom his forehead. Then place thyself as though thou wouldst remove it,\nbut rather with a firm grasp drive it farther in, so that it enter\nhis brain, first offering up with thine hand seven barley-corns to\nheaven; and after this manner thou shalt kill the Schimnu-Khan.\"\n\nThus commanded the dread Churmusta.\n\nThen Massang came down from the footstool of Churmusta and the\ndwelling of the gods, and went forth to seek out his master. But\ngrowing weary with the length of the day, and lying down to sleep,\nwhen he woke he had forgotten the direction he had to take, so he\npursued the path which lay before him, and it led him to the portal\nof the Schimnu palace.\n\nWhen he saw it was the Schimnu palace, he would have made good his\nescape from its precincts, but remembering the words of Churmusta, he\nknocked boldly at the door. Then the Schimnus flocked round him, and\ntold him he must die unless he could do some service whereby his life\nmight be redeemed; and Massang made answer, \"I am a physician.\" Hearing\nthat, they took him in to the Schimnu-Khan, that he might pluck the\narrow out of his forehead.\n\nMassang stood before the Schimnu-Khan; but when he should have\npulled out the arrow, he only pulled it out a little way, and the\nSchimnu-Khan said,--\n\n\"Thus far is the pang diminished.\"\n\nThen, however, first casting seven barley-corns on high towards heaven,\nhe plunged it in again even to the centre of his brain, so that he\nfell down at his feet dead. And as the seven barley-corns reached\nthe heavens, there came down by their track an iron chain with a\nthundering clang which the dread Churmusta sent down to Massang,\nand Massang climbed up by the chain to the dwelling of the gods. But\nthere stood by the throne of the Schimnu-Khan a female Schimnu, out\nof whose mouth came forth forked flames of fire, and when she saw\nMassang ascending to heaven by the chain, she raised an iron hammer\nhigh in air to strike it, and cleave it in two. But when she struck\nit, there issued seven bright sparks, which floated up to heaven,\nand remained fixed in the sky; and men called them the constellation\nof the Pleiades.\n\n\n\n\"Thus, for all his promise, and after all his sacrifices, Massang\nnever went back to repay his master's clemency!\" exclaimed the Khan.\n\nAnd as he let these words escape him the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr replied,\n\"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened\nhis lips!\" And with the cry, \"To escape out of this world is good!\" he\nsped him through the air, swift, out of sight.\n\n\n\nThus far of the Adventures of the Well-and-wise-walking Khan the\nthird chapter, showing how the Schimnu-Khan was slain.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE IV.\n\n\nThen, when he saw he had again missed the end and object of his\njourney, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan again set out as at the first,\ntill with toil and terror he reached the cool grove where lay the\ndead. At his approach the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr clambered up into the mango-tree,\nbut rather than let the tree be destroyed he came down at the word\nof the Khan threatening to fell it. Then the Khan bound him in his\nbag and bore him away to offer to the Master and Teacher N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una.\n\nBut when they had proceeded many days the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr said, \"Tell, now,\na tale, seeing the way is long and weary, and we are like to die of\nweariness if we go on thus speaking never a word between us.\" But the\nKhan, mindful of the monition of his Master and Teacher N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una,\nanswered him nothing. Then said the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr, \"If thou wilt not\ntell a tale, at least give me the token by which I may know that thou\nwillest I should tell one.\"\n\nSo the Well-and-wise-walking Khan nodded his head backwards towards\nhim, and the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr told this tale, saying,--\n\n\n\nTHE PIG'S HEAD SOOTHSAYER.\n\nLong ages ago a man and his wife were living on the borders of a\nflourishing kingdom. The wife was a good housewife, who occupied\nherself with looking after the land and the herds; but the husband\nwas a dull, idle man, who did nothing but eat, drink, and sleep from\nmorning to night and from night to morning. One day, when his wife\ncould no longer endure to see him going on thus indolently, she cried\nout to him, \"Leave off thus idling thyself; get up and gird thyself\nlike a man, and seek employment. Behold, thy father's inheritance\nis well nigh spent; the time is come that thou find the means to eke\nit out.\"\n\nAnd when he weakly asked her in return, \"Wherein shall I seek to eke\nit out?\" she answered him, \"How should I be able to tell this thing,\nbut at least get thee up and make some endeavour; get thee up and\nlook round the place and see what thou canst find,\" and with that\nshe went out to her work in the field.\n\nWhen she had repeated these words many days, he at last went out one\nday, and, not taking the trouble to bethink him what he should do,\nhe did just what his wife had said, and went to look round the place\nto see what he could find. As he wandered about, he came to a spot on\nwhich a tribe of cattle-herds had lately been encamped (1), and a fox,\na dog, and a bird were there fighting about something. Approaching\nto see for what they contended, they all escaped in fear, and he was\nleft in possession of their booty, which was a sheep's paunch full\nof butter (2). This he brought home and laid up in store. When his\nwife came home and asked him whence it was, he told her he had found\nit left on the camping-place of a family of herdsmen who had passed\nthat way seeking pasturage.\n\n\"Well it is to be a man!\" exclaimed his wife. \"I may toil all day\nwithout making so much; but you go but out one day of your whole life\nfor one moment of time, and straightway you find all this wealth.\"\n\nWhen the man heard these words, he took courage and thought he should\nbe fit to find better fortune still; so he said to his wife, \"Give\nme now only a good horse and clothes meet, and a dog, and a bow and\narrows, and you shall see what I can do.\"\n\nThe woman was glad to hear him show so much resolution, so she made\nhaste and gave him all the things that he required, and added a thick\nfelt cloak to keep out the rain, and a cap for his head, and helped\nhim to get on his horse, and slung his bow over his shoulder.\n\nThus he rode out over many a broad plain, but without purpose or\nknowledge of whither he went, nor did he fall in with any living\ncreature whatever for many days. At last, riding over a vast steppe,\nhe espied at some distance a fox.\n\n\"Ha!\" he exclaimed, \"there is one of my friends of last time. To be\nsure, there is no sheep's paunch of butter this time, but if I could\nonly kill him his skin would make a nice warm cap.\"\n\nAs he had never learnt to draw a bow, his arrows were of no service,\nso he set his horse trotting after the fox; but the fox got away faster\nthan he could follow, and took refuge in the hole of a marmot (3).\n\n\"Now I have you!\" he cried, and, dismounting from his horse, he took\noff all his clothes to have freer use of his limbs and bound them on\nhis saddle; the dog he tied to the bridle of the horse, and stopped\nthe mouth of the hole with his cap; then he took a great stone and\nendeavoured with heavy blows on the earth to crush the fox.\n\nBut the fox, taking fright at the noise, rushed out with such impetus\nthat it carried off the cap on its head. The dog, seeing it run,\ngave chase, and the horse was forced to follow the dog, as they were\nboth tied together; so off he galloped, carrying on his saddle every\nthing the man had in the world, and leaving him stretched on the\nground without a thread of covering.\n\nGetting up, he wandered on to the banks of a river which formed\nthe boundary of the kingdom of a rich and powerful Khan. Going into\nthis Khan's stable, he laid himself down under the straw and covered\nhimself completely, so that no one could see him. Here he was warmed\nand well rested.\n\nAs he lay there the Khan's beautiful daughter came out to take the\nair, and before she went in again she dropped the Khan's talisman and\npassed on without perceiving her loss. Though the bauble was precious\nin itself for the jewels which adorned it, and precious also to the\nKhan for its powers in preserving his life (4), and worthy therefore\nto claim a reward, the man was too indolent to get up out of the\nstraw to pick it up, so he let it lie.\n\nAfter sunset the Khan's herds came in from grazing, and the cow-wench,\nwhen she had shut them into the stable, swept up the yard without\nheeding the talisman, which thus got thrown on to a dung-heap. This\nthe man saw, but still bestirred him not to recover it.\n\nThe next day there was great stir and noise in the place; the Khan\nsent out messengers into every district far and near to say that\nthe Khan's beautiful daughter had lost his talisman, and promising\nrewards to whoso should restore it.\n\nAfter this too, he ordered the great trumpet, which was only blown on\noccasion of promulgating the laws of the kingdom, to be sounded and\nproclamation to be made, calling on all the wise men and soothsayers\nof the kingdom to exercise their cunning art, and divine the place\nwhere the talisman should lay concealed.\n\nAll this the man heard as he lay under the straw, but yet he bestirred\nhim not. Early in the morning, however, men came to litter the\nplace for the kine with fresh straw; and these men, finding him,\nbid him turn out. Now that it became a necessity to stir himself,\nhe bethought him of the talisman; and when the men asked him whence\nhe was, he answered \"I am a soothsayer come to divine the place where\nlies the Khan's talisman.\"\n\nHearing that, they told him to come along to the Khan. \"But I have no\nclothes,\" replied the man. So they went and told the Khan, saying,\n\"Here is a soothsayer lying in the straw of the stable, who is come\nto divine where the Khan's talisman lies hid, but he cannot appear\nbefore the Khan because he has no clothes.\"\n\n\"Take this apparel to him,\" said the Khan, \"and bring him hither\nto me.\"\n\nWhen he came before the Khan, the Khan asked him what he required to\nperform his divination.\n\n\"Let there be given me,\" answered the man, \"a pig's head, a piece\nof silk stuff woven of five colours, (5) and a large Baling (6);\nthese are the things which I require for the divination.\"\n\nAll these things being given him, he set up the pig's head on a\npedestal of wood, and adorned it with the silk stuff woven of five\ncolours, and put the Baling-cake in its mouth. Then he sat down over\nagainst it, as if sunk in earnest contemplation. Then on the day which\nhad been named in the Khan's proclamation for the day of divination,\nwhich was the third day, all the people being assembled, assuming the\nair of a diviner of dreams, he wrapped himself in a long mantle, and\nmade as though he was questioning the pig's head. As all the people\npassed, he seemed to gain the answer from the pig's head,--\n\n\"The talisman is not with this one,\" and \"The talisman is not with\nthat one,\" so that he had many people on his side glad to be thus\npronounced free from all charge of harbouring the Khan's talisman.\n\nAt last he made a sign that this kind of divination was ended; and\npronounced that the Khan's talisman was not in possession of any man.\n\n\"And now,\" said he, \"let us try the divination of the earth.\" With\nthat, he set out to make a circuit of the Khan's dwelling. Stepping on\nand on from place to place, he continued to seem consulting the pig's\nhead, till he came to the place in the yard where the dung-heap was;\nand here, assuming an imposing attitude, he turned round, and said\nmysteriously, \"Here somewhere must be found the Khan's talisman.\" But\nwhen he had turned the heap over, and brought the talisman itself to\nlight, the people knew not how to contain themselves for wonderment,\nand went about crying,--\n\n\"The Pig's head diviner hath divined wonderful things! The Pig's head\ndiviner hath divined wonderful things!\"\n\nBut the Khan called to him, and said,--\n\n\"Tell me how I shall reward thee for that thou hast restored my\ntalisman to me.\"\n\nBut he, who did not exert himself to think of any thing but just of\nwhat was most present to his mind, answered,--\n\n\"Let there be given me, O Khan, the raiment, and the horse, the fox,\nthe dog, and the bow and arrows which I have lost.\"\n\nWhen the Khan heard him ask for nothing save his horse and dog,\nand raiment, and a fox, and bows and arrows, he said,--\n\n\"Of a truth this is a singular soothsayer. Nevertheless, let there\nbe given him over and above the things that he hath required of us\ntwo elephants laden with meal and butter.\"\n\nSo they gave him all the things he had required and two elephants\nladen with meal and butter to boot. Thus they brought him back unto\nhis own home.\n\nSeeing him yet afar, his wife came out to meet him, carrying\nbrandy. She opened her eyes when she saw the two elephants laden\nwith butter and meal; but knowing that he loved to be left at ease,\nforbore to question him that night. The next morning she made him\ntell her the whole story before they got up; but when she heard what\nlittle demands he had made after rendering the Khan so great a service\nas restoring his talisman, she exclaimed,--\n\n\"If a man would be called a man, he ought to know better how to use\nhis opportunities.\"\n\nAnd with that she sat to work to write a letter in her husband's name\nto the Khan.\n\nThe letter was conceived in these words:--\n\n\"During the brief moment that thy life-talisman was in my hands, I\nwell recognized that thou hast a bodily infirmity. It was in order\nthat I might conjure it from thee that I required at thy hands the\ndog and the fox. What reward the Khan is pleased to bestow, this\nshall be according to the mind of the Khan.\"\n\nThis letter she took with her own hands to the Khan.\n\nWhen the Khan had read the letter, he was pleased to think the\nsoothsayer had undertaken to free him of a malady against which he\ncould never have made provision himself, as he had no knowledge of\nits existence; so he ordered two elephant's-loads of treasure to\nbe given to the woman, who went back to her husband, and they had\ntherewith enough to live in ease and plenty.\n\nNow this Khan had had six brethren, and it happened that once they had\ngone out to divert themselves, and in a thick wood they saw a most\nbeautiful maiden playing with a he-goat, whom they stood looking at\ntill they were tired of standing, for of looking at one so beautiful\nthey could never be weary.\n\nAt last one of them said to her,--\n\n\"Whence comest thou, beautiful maiden?\"\n\nAnd she answered him,--\n\n\"By following after this he-goat, thus I came hither.\"\n\n\"Will you come with us seven brethren, and be our wife,\" rejoined\nthe brother, who had spoken first; and when she willingly agreed they\ntook her home with them.\n\nBut they both were evil R\u00e2kshasas (7), who had only come out to find\nmen whose lives to devour; the male Manggus (8), had taken the form\nof a he-goat, and the female Manggus that of a beautiful maiden,\nthe better to deceive.\n\nWhen therefore the seven took her home and the goat with her, the\ntwo Manggus had ample scope to carry out their design, and every\nyear they devoured the life of one of the brothers, till now there\nwas only the Khan left, and they began to consume the life of him also.\n\nWhen the ministers saw that all the brothers were dead, and only the\nKhan left, they held a council, and they said, \"Behold, all the other\nKhans are dead, notwithstanding all the means we have at our command,\nand despite the arts of all the physicians of this country.\" Now\nthere remains no other means for us but to send for the Pig's head\nsoothsayer who found the Khan's talisman, and get him to restore\nthe Khan to health.\" This counsel was found good, and they all said,\n\"Let us send for the Pig's head soothsayer.\"\n\nFour men were sent off on horseback to call the Pig's head soothsayer,\nwho laid all the case before him.\n\nWhen he heard it he was greatly embarrassed, and knew not what to\nanswer, but his vacancy passed, with them, for his being immersed in\ndeep contemplation, and they reverenced him the more. Meantime his\nwife bid them put up their horses and stay the night.\n\nIn the night-time she asked of him what the men had come about,\nand he told her all his embarrassment.\n\n\"True, last time you exerted yourself a little and had good luck,\" she\nreplied, \"but now that you have been sitting here doing nothing, and\nlooking so stupid all this time, whether you will cut as good a figure,\nwho shall say? But go you must, seeing the Khan has sent for you.\"\n\nThe next morning he said to the messengers, \"In the visions of the\nnight I have learned even how I may help the Khan, and presently I\nwill come with you.\"\n\nThen he enveloped himself in a mantle, laid his hair over the crown\nof his head, took a large string of beads in his left hand, bound the\nsilk stuff woven of five colours round his right arm, and carrying\nthe pigs' head set out with them.\n\nWhen he arrived with this strange aspect at the Khan's dwelling\nboth the Manggus were much alarmed. They thought he must be some\ncunning soothsayer who knew all about them; they had heard, too,\nof his success in finding the Khan's talisman.\n\nBut the man continuing to support his character of soothsayer, ordered\na Baling as big as a man to be brought to the head of the Khan's bed,\nand placed the pig's head on top of it, and then sat himself down\nover against it, murmuring words of incantation (9).\n\nThe Manggus, thinking all these preparations showed that he was a\ncunning soothsayer, went away to take counsel together, and the Khan\nbeing thus delivered for the time from their evil arts, his pains\nbegan to yield and he fell into a tranquil sleep. Seeing this his\nattendants thought favourably of the cure, and trusting therefore\nthe more in the soothsayer's powers they left him in entire charge\nof the patient. Being thus freed from observation he ventured to\nleave his position of apparent absorption in contemplation, and to\ntake a stolen glance at the Khan. When he saw him in such a deep\nsleep a great fear took him, thinking he must be very bad indeed,\nand he did all he could to wake him, crying aloud,--\n\n\"O great Khan! O mighty Khan!\"\n\nFinding that the Khan remained speechless he thought he must be dead,\nand resolved that his best part was to run away. This was not so easy,\nfor the first open door he found to take refuge in was that of the\nTreasury, and the guard called out \"Stop thief!\" and when from thence\nhe tried to bestow himself in the store-chamber, the guard sang out\n\"Stop thief!\" At last he went into the stable, to hide himself there,\nbut close by the door-way stood the he-goat, whom he feared to pass,\nlest he should goad him with his horns. However, summoning up all\nhis courage, he got behind him, and sprang on his back, and gave\nhim three blows on his head; but instantly, even as the blue smoke\ncolumn is carried in a straight direction by the wind, so sped the\nhe-goat straight off to the Khanin leaving his rider stretched upon\nthe ground. As soon as he had got up again he ran after the he-goat,\nto see whither he went so fast; following him, he came to the door\nof the Khanin's apartment, and heard the he-goat talking to her\nwithin. The two Manggus spoke thus:--\n\n\"The Pig's head soothsayer is a soothsayer indeed,\" said the he-goat;\n\"he divined that I was in the stable, and he came there after me,\nand sprang upon my back, giving me three mighty blows, by which I\nknow the weight of his arm. The best thing we can do is to make good\nour escape.\"\n\nThe Khanin made answer, \"I, also, am of the same mind. I saw when\nhe first came in that he recognized us for what we are. We have had\ngood fortune hitherto, but it has forsaken us now; it were better\nwe got away. I know what he will do; in a day or two, when he has\ncured the Khan by not letting us approach him to devour his life,\nhe will assemble together all the men of the place with their arms,\nand all the women, telling them to bring each a faggot of wood for\nburning. When all are assembled he will say, 'Let that he-goat be\nbrought to me,' so they will bind thee and take thee before him. Then\nwill he say to thee, 'Lay aside thine assumed form,' and it will be\nimpossible for thee not to obey. When he has shown thee thus in thine\nown shape they will all fall upon thee, and put thee to death with\nswords and arrows, and burn thee in the fire. And afterwards with me\nwill he deal after the same manner. Now, therefore, to-morrow or the\nnext day we will be beforehand with him, and will go where we shall\nbe safe from his designs.\"\n\nWhen the man heard all this, he left off from following the goat,\nand went back with good courage, to take up his place again over\nagainst the pig's head by the side of the Khan's couch.\n\nIn the morning the Khan woke, refreshed with his slumber; and when\nthey inquired how he felt, the Khan replied that the soothsayer's\npower had diminished the force of the malady.\n\n\"If this be even so,\" here interposed the soothsayer, \"and if the Khan\nhas confidence in the word of his servant, command now thy ministers\nthat they call together all thy subjects--the men with their arms,\nand the women each with a faggot of wood for burning.\" Then the Khan\nordered that it should be done according to his word. When they were\nall assembled, the pretended soothsayer, having set up his pig's\nhead, commanded further that they should bring the he-goat out of\nthe stable before him; and when they had bound him and brought him,\nthat they should put his saddle on him. Then he sprang on to his back,\nand gave him three blows with all his strength, and dismounted. Then\nwith all the power of voice he could command, he cried out to him,\n\"Lay aside thine assumed form!\"\n\nAt these words the he-goat was changed before the eyes of all present\ninto a horrible Manggus, deformed and hideous to behold. With swords\nand sticks, lances and stones, the whole people fell upon him, and\ndisabled him, and then burnt him with fire till he was dead.\n\nThen said the soothsayer, \"Now, bring hither the Khanin.\" So they\nwent and dragged down the Khanin to the place where he stood, with\nyelling and cries of contempt.\n\nWith one hand on the pig's head, as if taking his authority from it,\nthe soothsayer cried out to her, in a commanding voice,--\n\n\"Resume thine own form!\"\n\nThen she too became a frightful Manggus, and they put her to death\nlike the other.\n\nThe soothsayer now rode back to the Khan's palace, all the people\nmaking obeisance to him as he went along--some crying, \"Hail!\" some\nstrewing the way with barley, and some bringing him rich offerings. It\ntook him nearly the space of a day to make his way through such\na throng.\n\nWhen at last he arrived, the Khan received him with a grateful welcome,\nand asked him what present he desired of him. The soothsayer answered,\nwith his usual simplicity, \"In our part of the country we have none\nof those pieces of wood which I see you put here into the noses of\nthe oxen: let there be given me a quantity of them to take back with\nme.\" The Khan then ordered there should be given him three sacks of\nthe pieces of wood for the oxen, and seven elephants laden with meal\nand butter to boot.\n\nWhen he arrived home, his wife came out to meet him with brandy, and\nwhen she saw the seven elephants with their loads, she extolled him\nhighly; but when she came to learn how great was the deliverance he\nhad rendered to the Khan, she was indignant that he had not asked for\nhigher reward, and determined to go the next day herself to the Khan.\n\nThe next day she went accordingly, disguised, and sent in a letter\nof the following purport to the Khan:--\n\n\"Although I, the Pig's head soothsayer, brought the Khan round from\nhis malady, yet some remains of it still hang about him. It was in\norder to remove these that I asked for the pieces of wood for the\noxen; what guerdon has been earned by this further service it is for\nthe Khan to decide.\"\n\nSuch a letter she sent in to the Khan.\n\n\"The man has spoken the truth,\" said the Khan, on reading the\nletter. \"For his reward, let him and his wife, his parents and friends,\nall come over hither and dwell with me.\"\n\nWhen they arrived, the Khan said, \"When one has to show his gratitude,\nand dismisses him to whom he is indebted with presents, that does not\nmake an end of the matter. That I was not put to death by the Manggus\nis thy doing; that the kingdom was not given over to destruction was\nthy doing; that the ministers were not eaten up by the Manggus was thy\ndoing: it is meet, therefore, that we share between us the inheritance,\neven between us two, and reign in perfect equality.\" With such words\nhe gave him half his authority over the kingdom, and to all his family\nhe gave rich fortunes and appointments of state. And thus his wife\nbecame Khanin; so that while he could indulge himself in the same\nidle life as before, she also enjoyed rest from her household and\npastoral cares (10).\n\n\n\n\"Though the woman despised her husband's understanding,\" exclaimed\nthe Khan, \"yet was it always his doings which brought them wealth\nafter all!\"\n\nAnd as he let these words escape him, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr replied,\n\"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened\nhis lips. \"And with the cry, \"To escape out of this world is good!\" he\nsped him through the air, swift out of sight.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE V.\n\n\nWhen the Well-and-wise-walking Khan found that he had again missed\nthe end and object of his journey, without hesitation or loss of\ntime he once more betook himself to the cool grove, and summoned the\nSiddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr to come with him, threatening to hew down the mango-tree.\n\nBut as he bore him along, bound in his bag of many colours, in which\nwas place to stow away an hundred, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr spoke thus, saying,\n\"Tell thou now a tale to beguile the weariness of the way.\" But\nthe Well-and-wise-walking Khan answered him nothing. Then said the\nSiddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr again, \"If thou wilt not tell a tale, at least give the\ntoken that I may know thou willest I should tell one.\"\n\nSo the Khan nodded his head backwards and the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr told this\ntale, saying,--\n\n\n\nHOW THE SERPENT-GODS WERE PROPITIATED.\n\nLong ages ago there reigned over a flourishing province, a Khan named\nKun-snang (1). He had a son named \"Sunshine\" by his first wife who\nafterwards died. He also had a second son named \"Moonshine,\" by his\nsecond wife. Now the second wife thought within herself, \"If Sunshine\nis allowed to live, there is no chance of Moonshine ever coming to the\nthrone. Some means must be found of putting Sunshine out of the way.\"\n\nWith this object in view she threw herself down upon her couch and\ntossed to and fro as though in an agony of pain. All the night through\nalso instead of sleeping, she tossed about and writhed with pain. Then\nthe Khan spake to her, saying, \"My beautiful one! what is it that\npains thee, and with what manner of ailment art thou stricken?\" And\nshe made answer,--\n\n\"Even when I was at home I suffered oftwhiles after the same manner,\nbut now is it much more violent; all remedies have I exhausted previous\ntimes, there remains only one when the pain is of this degree, and\nthat means is not available.\"\n\n\"Say not that it is not available,\" answered the Khan, \"for all\nmeans are available to me. Speak but what it is that is required, and\nwhatever it be shall be done, even to the renouncing of my kingdom. For\nthere is nothing that I would not give in exchange for thy life.\"\n\nBut for a long time she made as though she would not tell him, then\nfinally yielding to his repeated inquiries, she said, \"If there were\ngiven me the heart of a Prince, stewed in sesame-oil (2), I should\nrecover: it matters not whether the heart of Sunshine or of Moonshine,\nbut that Moonshine being my own son, his heart would not pass through\nmy throat. This means, O Khan, is manifestly not available, for how\nshould it be done to take the life of Prince Sunshine? Therefore say\nno more, and let me die.\"\n\nBut the Khan answered, \"Of a truth it would grieve me to take the\nlife of Prince Sunshine. Nevertheless, if there be no other means of\nsaving thy life, the thing must be done. I have not to consider 'Shall\nthe life of the Prince be spared or not?' but, 'Which shall be spared,\nthe life of the Prince, or the life of the Khanin?' And in this strait\nwho could doubt, but that it is the life of the Khanin that must be\nspared by me? Therefore, be of good cheer, beautiful one, for that\nthe heart of Prince Sunshine shall be given thee cooked in sesame-oil.\"\n\nThis, he said, intending in his own mind to have the heart of a kid\nof the goats prepared for her in sesame-oil, saying, \"Behold, here\nis the heart of Prince Sunshine,\" but to send away the Prince into a\nfar country that she might not know he was not dead. Only when she was\nrestored to health again, then he purposed to fetch back his son. But\nMoonshine being in his mother's apartments overheard this promise which\nthe Khan had given, and he ran and told his brother all that the Khan,\nhis father, had said, saying, \"When the Khan rises he will give the\norder to put thee to death; how shall this thing be averted?\" and he\nwept sore, for he loved his brother Sunshine even as his own life.\n\nThen Sunshine answered, saying, \"Seeing this is so, remain thou with\nour parents, loving and honouring them, and being loved by them. For\nme, it is clear the time is come that I must get me away to a far\ncountry. Farewell, my brother!\"\n\nBut Moonshine answered, \"Nay, brother, for if thou goest, I\nalso go with thee. How should I live alone here, without thee,\nmy brother?\" Therefore they rose quickly before the Khan could\nget up, and going privately to a priest in a temple hard by, that\nno one else might hear of their design and betray it to the Khan,\nthey begged of him a good provision of baling-cakes (3), to support\nlife by the way; and he gave them a good provision, even a bag-full,\nand they set out on their journey while it was yet night. It was the\nfifteenth of the month, while the moon shed abroad her light, and they\njourneyed towards the East, not knowing whither they went. But after\nthey had journeyed many days over mountain and plain, and come to a\nland where was no water, but a muddy river the water whereof could\nnot be drunk, and where was no habitation of man, Moonshine fell down\nfainting by the way. Sunshine therefore ran to the top of a high hill\nto see if he could discern any stream of water, but found none. When\nhe came back Moonshine was dead! Then he fell down on the ground,\nand wept a long space upon his body, and at nightfall he buried it\nwith solicitude under a heap of stones, crying, \"Ah! my brother,\nhow shall I live without thee, my brother?\" And he prayed that at\nMoonshine's next re-birth (4) they might again live together.\n\nJourneying farther on, he came to a pass between two steep rocks,\nand in one of them was a red door. Going up to the door, he found an\nancient Hermit living in a cave within, who addressed him, saying,\n\"Whence art thou, O youth, who seemest oppressed with recent\ngrief?\" And Sunshine told him all that had befallen him. Without\nagain speaking the Hermit put into the folds of his girdle a bottle\ncontaining a life-restoring cordial, and going to the spot where\nMoonshine lay buried, restored him to life. Then said he to the two\nprinces, \"Live now with me, and be as my two sons.\" So they lived\nwith him, and were unto him as his two sons.\n\nThe desert where this Hermit lived belonged to the kingdom of a Khan\ndazzling in his glory and resistless in might. Now it was about the\nseason when the Khan and his subjects went every year to direct the\nflowing of water over the country for fructifying the grain-seeds;\nbut it was the custom every year at this season first, in order to\nmake the Serpent-gods (5) who lived at the water-head propitious,\nto sacrifice to them a youth of a certain age; and on this occasion\nit fell to the lot of a youth born in the Tiger-year (6). When the\nKhan had caused search to be made through all the people no youth was\nfound among them all born in the Tiger-year. At last certain herdsmen\ncame before him, saying, \"While we were out tending our cattle, behold\nwe saw in a cave nigh to a pass between two steep rocks a Hermit who\nhas with him two sons, and one of them born in the Tiger-year.\"\n\nWhen the Khan had listened to their word he immediately sent three\nenvoys to fetch the Hermit's son for the sacrifice (7).\n\nWhen the three envoys of the Khan had come and stood knocking before\nthe red door of the Hermit's cave, the Hermit cried out to them,\nasking what they wanted of him. Then answered the chief of them,\n\"Because thou hast a son living with thee born in the Tiger-year, and\nthe Khan hath need of him for the sacrifice; therefore are we come,\neven that we may bring him to the Khan.\"\n\nWhen the Hermit had heard their embassage, he answered them, \"How\nshould a Hermit have a son with him out here in the desert?\" But he\ntook Sunshine, who was the youth born in the Tiger-year, and motioned\nhim into a farther hole of the cave where was a great vessel of\npottery; into this vessel he made him creep, then fastening the\nmouth of the vessel with earth, he made it to appear like to a jar of\nrice-brandy (8). Meantime, however, the Khan's envoys had broken down\nthe door, and began searching through every recess of the cave. Finding\nnothing, they were filled with fury, and in their anger beat the\nHermit on whose account they had come a bootless errand. But when\nSunshine heard the men ill-treating the Hermit who had been to him\nas a father, he could not refrain himself, and called out from within\nthe brandy-jar, \"Unhand my father!\" Then the envoys immediately left\noff beating his father, but they turned and seized him and carried\nhim off to the Khan, while the Hermit was left weeping with great\ngrief at the loss of his adopted son, even as one like to die.\n\nAs the envoys dragged Sunshine along before the palace, the Khan's\ndaughter was looking out of window, and when she heard that the\nhandsome youth was destined for the Serpent-sacrifice, she was filled\nwith compassion. She went therefore to the men who had the charge to\nthrow him into the water, saying, \"See how comely he is! He is worthy\nto be saved, throw him not into the water. Or else if you will throw\nhim in, throw me in also with him.\" Then the men went and showed the\nKhan her words; whereupon the king was wroth, and said, \"She is not\nworthy to be called the Khan's daughter; let them therefore be both\nsewn up into one bullock's skin, and so cast into the water.\" The\nmen therefore did according to the Khan's bidding, and sewing them\nboth up in one bullock-hide together, cast them into the water to\nthe Serpent-gods.\n\nThen began Sunshine to say, \"That they should throw me to the\nSerpent-gods, because I was the only youth to be found who was born\nin the Tiger-year, was not so bad; but that this beautiful maiden,\nwho hath deigned to lift her eyes on me, and to love me, should be\nso sacrificed also, this is unbearable!\"\n\nAnd the Khan's daughter in like manner cried, \"That I who am only\na woman should be thrown to the Serpent-gods, is not so bad; but\nthat this noble and beautiful youth should be so sacrificed also,\nthis is unbearable!\"\n\nWhen the Serpent-gods heard these laments, and saw how the prince and\nthe maiden vied with each other in generosity, they sent and fetched\nthem both out of the water, and gave them freedom. Also as soon as\nthey were set free, they let the water gently flow over the whole\ncountry, just as the people desired for their rice irrigation.\n\nMeantime, Sunshine said to the Khan's daughter, \"Princess, let us each\nnow return home. Go thou to thy father's palace, while I go back to the\nHermitage, and visit my adopted father, who is like to die of grief\nfor the loss of me. After I have fulfilled this filial duty, I will\nreturn to thee, and we will live for ever after for each other alone.\"\n\nThe princess then praised his filial love, and bid him go console his\nfather, only begging him to come to her right soon, for she should\nhave no joy till he came back.\n\nSunshine went therefore to the Hermit, whom he found so worn with\ngrief, that he was but just in time to save him from dying; so having\nfirst washed him with milk and water, he consoled him with many words\nof kindness.\n\nThe princess, too, went home to the palace, where all were so\nastonished at her deliverance that at first she could hardly obtain\nadmission. When they had made sure it was herself in very truth,\nthe people all came round her, and congratulated her with joy,\nfor never had any one before been delivered from the sacrifice to\nthe Serpent-gods.\n\nThen said the Khan, \"That the Khan's daughter should be spared by\nthe Serpent-gods was to be expected. They have the youth born in the\nTiger-year for their sacrifice.\"\n\nBut the princess answered, \"Neither has he fallen sacrifice. Him also\nthey let free; and indeed was it in great part out of regard for his\nabnegation and distress over my suffering that we were both let free.\"\n\nThen answered the Khan, \"In that case is our debt great unto this\nyouth. Let him be sought after, and besought that he come to visit\nus in our palace.\"\n\nSo they went again to the cave in the rocky pass, and fetched Sunshine;\nand when he came near, the Khan went out to meet him, and caused\ncostly seats to be brought, and made him sit down thereon beside him.\n\nThen he said to him, \"That thou hast delivered this country from the\nfear of drought, is matter for which we owe thee our highest gratitude;\nbut that thou and this my daughter also have escaped from death is\na marvellous wonder. Tell me now, art thou in very truth the son of\nthe Hermit?\"\n\n\"No,\" replied Sunshine, \"I am the son of a mighty Khan; but my\nstep-mother, seeking to make a difference between me and this my\nbrother standing beside me, who was her own born son, and to put me\nto death, we fled away both together; and thus fleeing we came to\nthe Hermit, and were taken in by his hospitality.\"\n\nWhen the Khan had heard his words, he promised him his daughter\nin marriage, and her sister, to be wife to Moonshine. Moreover, he\nendowed them with immeasurable riches, and gave them an escort of\nfour detachments of fighting-men to accompany them home. When they\nhad arrived near the capital of the kingdom, they sent an embassage\nbefore them to the Khan, saying,--\n\n\"We, thy two sons, Sunshine and Moonshine, are returned to thee.\"\n\nThe Khan and the Khanin, who had for many years past quite lost\ntheir reason out of grief for the loss of their children, and held no\nmore converse with men, were at once restored to sense and animation\nat this news, and sent out a large troop of horsemen to meet them,\nand conduct them to their palace. Thus the two princes returned in\nhonour to their home.\n\nWhen they came in, the Khan was full of joy and glory, sitting on his\nthrone; but the Khanin, full of remorse and shame at the thought of\nthe crime she had meditated, fell down dead before their face.\n\n\n\n\"That wretched woman got the end that she deserved!\" exclaimed\nthe Khan.\n\n\"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened\nhis lips,\" said the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr. And with the cry, \"To escape out of\nthis world is good!\" he sped him through the air, swift out of sight.\n\n\n\nThus far of the Adventures of the Well-and-wise-walking Khan the\nfifth chapter, showing how the Serpent-gods were appeased.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE VI.\n\n\nWhen the Well-and-wise-walking Khan found that he had again missed\nthe end and object of his journey, he proceeded once more by the same\nmanner and means to the cool grove. And, having bound the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr\nin his bag, bore him on his shoulder to present to his Master and\nTeacher N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una.\n\nBut by the way the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr asked him to tell a tale, and when he\nwould not answer begged for the token of his assent that he should\ntell one, which when the Khan had given he told this tale, saying,--\n\n\n\nTHE TURBULENT SUBJECT.\n\nLong ages ago there lived in a district called Brschiss (1) a haughty,\nturbulent man. As he feared no man and obeyed no laws, the Khan of\nthat country sent to him, saying, \"Since thou wilt obey no laws,\nthou canst not remain in my country. Get thee gone hence, or else\nsubmit to the laws!\"\n\nBut the turbulent man chose rather to go forth in exile than submit\nto the laws. So he went wandering forth till he came to a vast plain\ncovered with feather-grass, and a palm-tree standing in the midst,\nwith a dead horse lying beneath it. Under the shade of the palm-tree\n(2) he sat down, saying, \"The head of this horse will be useful\nfor food when my provisions are exhausted.\" So he bound it into his\nwaist-scarf and climbed up into the palm-tree to pass the night.\n\nHe had scarcely composed himself to sleep when there was a great noise\nof shouting and yelling, which woke him up; and behold there came\nthither towards the palm-tree, from the southern side of the steppe,\na herd of d\u00e6mons, having ox-hide caps on their heads, and riding on\nhorses covered with ox-hides. Nor had they long settled themselves\nbefore another herd of d\u00e6mons came trooping towards the palm-tree\nfrom the northern side of the steppe, and these wore paper caps and\nrode on horses wearing paper coverings.\n\nAll these d\u00e6mons now danced and feasted together with great howling\nand shouting. The man looked down upon them from the tree-top full\nof terror, but also full of envy at their enjoyment. As he leant\nover to watch them, the horse's head tumbled out of his girdle right\ninto their midst and scattered them in dire alarm in every direction,\nnot one of them daring to look up to see whence it came. It was not\ntill the morning light broke, however, that the man ventured to come\ndown. When he did so, he said, \"Last night there was much feasting\nand drinking going on here, surely there must be something left from\nsuch a banquet.\" Searching through the long feather-grass all about,\nhe discovered a gold goblet full of brandy (3), from which he drank\nlong draughts, but it continued always full. At last he turned it\ndown upon the ground, and immediately all manner of meats and cakes\nappeared. \"This goblet is indeed larder and cellar!\" said the man,\nand taking it with him he went on his way.\n\nFarther on he met a man brandishing a thick stick as he walked.\n\n\"What is your stick good for that you brandish it so proudly?\" asked\nthe turbulent man.\n\n\"My stick is so much good that when I say to it, 'Fly, that man has\nstolen somewhat of me, fly after him and kill him and bring me back\nmy goods,' it instantly flies at the man and brings my things back.\"\n\n\"Yours is a good stick, but see my goblet; whatsoever you desire of\nmeat or drink this same goblet provides for the wishing. Will you\nexchange your stick against my goblet?\"\n\n\"That will I gladly,\" rejoined the traveller.\n\nBut the turbulent man, having once effected the exchange, cried to\nthe stick, \"Fly, that man has stolen my goblet, fly after him and kill\nhim and bring me back my goblet! \"Before the words had left his lips\nthe stick flew through the air, killed the man, and brought back the\ngoblet. Thus he had both the stick and the goblet.\n\nFarther on he saw a man coming who carried an iron hammer.\n\n\"What is your hammer good for?\" inquired he as they met.\n\n\"My hammer is so good,\" replied the traveller, \"that when I strike\nit nine times on the ground immediately there rises up an iron tower\nnine storeys high.\"\n\n\"Yours is a good hammer,\" replied the turbulent man, \"but look at my\ngoblet; whatever you desire of meat or drink this same goblet provides\nfor the wishing. Will you change your hammer against my goblet?\"\n\n\"That will I gladly,\" replied the wayfarer.\n\nBut the turbulent man, having once effected the exchange, cried to\nthe stick, \"Fly, that man has stolen my goblet, fly after him and\nkill him and bring me back the goblet.\" The command was executed as\nsoon as spoken, and the turbulent man thus became possessed of the\nhammer as well as the stick and the goblet.\n\nFarther on he saw a man carrying a goat's leather bag.\n\n\"What is your bag good for?\" inquired he as they met.\n\n\"My bag is so good that I have but to shake it and there comes a\nshower of rain, but if I shake it hard then it rains in torrents.\"\n\n\"Yours is a good bag,\" replied the turbulent man, \"but see my goblet;\nwhatsoever you desire of meat or drink it provides you for the\nwishing. Will you exchange your bag against my goblet?\"\n\n\"That will I gladly,\" answered the traveller.\n\nBut no sooner had the turbulent man possession of the bag than he\nsent his stick as before to recover the goblet also.\n\nProvided with all these magic articles, he had no fear in returning\nto his own country in spite of the prohibition of the Khan. Arrived\nthere about midnight, he established himself behind the Khan's\npalace, and, striking the earth nine times with his iron hammer,\nthere immediately appeared an iron fortress nine storeys high,\ntowering far above the palace.\n\nIn the morning the Khan said, \"Last night I heard 'knock, knock,\nknock,' several times. What will it have been?\" So the Khanin rose and\nlooked out and answered him, saying, \"Behold, a great iron fortress,\nnine storeys high, stands right over against the palace.\"\n\n\"This is some work of that turbulent rebel, I would wager!\" replied\nthe Khan, full of wrath. \"And he has brought it to that pass that\nwe must now measure our strength to the uttermost.\" Then he rose and\ncalled together all his subjects, and bid them each bring their share\nof fuel to a great fire which he kindled all round the iron fortress;\nall the smiths, too, he summoned to bring their bellows and blow it,\nand thus it was turned into a fearful furnace.\n\nMeantime the turbulent man sat quite unconcerned in the ninth storey\nwith his mother and his son, occupied with discussing the viands\nwhich the golden goblet provided. When the fire began to reach the\neighth storey, the man's mother caught a little alarm, saying, \"Evil\nwill befall us if this fire which the Khan has kindled round us be\nleft unchecked.\" But he answered, \"Mother! fear nothing; I have the\nmeans of settling that.\" Then he drew out his goat's-leather bag,\nwent with it up to the highest turret of the fortress, and shook it\ntill the rain flowed and pretty well extinguished the fire; but he\nalso went on shaking it till the rain fell in such torrents that\npresently the whole neighbourhood was inundated, and not only the\nembers of the fire but the smiths' bellows were washed away, and\nthe people and the Khan himself had much ado to escape with their\nlives. At last the gushing waters had worked a deep moat round the\nfortress, in which the turbulent man dwelt henceforth secure, and\nthe Khan durst admonish him no more.\n\n\n\n\"Thus the power of magic prevailed over sovereign might and majesty,\"\nexclaimed the Khan; and as he uttered these words the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr said,\n\"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened\nhis lips.\" And with the cry, \"To escape out of this world is good!\" he\nsped him through the air, swift out of sight.\n\n\n\nOf the Adventures of the Well-and-wise-walking Khan the sixth chapter,\nof how it fell out with the Turbulent Subject.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE VII.\n\nWhen the Well-and-wise-walking Khan found that he had again missed\nthe end and object of his labour, he proceeded again by the same\nmanner and means to the cool grove, and having bound the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr\nin his bag, bore him on his shoulder to present to his Master and\nTeacher N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una.\n\nBut by the way the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr asked him to tell a tale; and when he\nwould not answer, craved the token of his assent that he should tell\none, which when the Khan had given, he told this tale, saying,--\n\n\n\nTHE WHITE BIRD AND HIS WIFE.\n\nLong ages ago, there lived in a land called Fair-flower-garden,\na man, who had three daughters, who minded his herds of goats (1),\nthe three alternately.\n\nOne day, when it was the turn of the eldest sister to go with them,\nshe fell asleep during the mid-day heat, and when she awoke, she\nfound that one of the goats was missing. While she wandered about\nseeking it, she came to a place where was a great red door. When she\nhad opened this, she found behind it, a little farther on, a great\ngold door. And when she had opened this, she found farther on another\ndoor all of shining mother-o'-pearl. She opened this, and beyond it\nagain there was an emerald door, which gave entrance to a splendid\npalace full of gold and precious stones, dazzling to behold. Yet in\nall the whole palace there was no living thing save one white bird\nperched upon a costly table in a cage.\n\nThe bird espying the maiden, said to her, \"Maiden, how camest thou\nhither?\" And she replied, \"One of my father's goats has escaped\nfrom the flock, and as I dare not go home without it, I have been\nseeking it every where; thus came I hither.\" Then the White Bird said,\n\"If thou wilt consent to be my wife (2), I will not only tell thee\nwhere the goat is, but restore it to thee. If, however, thou refuse\nto render me this service, the goat is lost to thy father's flock\nfor ever.\" But the maiden answered, \"How can I be thy wife, seeing\nthou art a bird? Therefore is my father's goat lost to his flock for\never.\" And she went away weeping for sorrow.\n\nThe next day, when the second daughter took her turn with the herds,\nanother goat escaped from the flock; and when she went to seek it, she\nalso came to the strange palace and the white bird; but neither could\nshe enter into his idea of her becoming his wife; and she therefore\ncame home, sorrowing over the loss to the herd under her care.\n\nThe day following, the youngest daughter went forth with the goats,\nand a goat also strayed from her. But she, when she had come to the\npalace, and the white bird asked her to become his wife, with the\npromise of restoring her goat in case of her consent, answered him, \"As\na rule, creatures of the male gender keep their promises; therefore,\nO bird! I accept thy conditions.\" Thus she agreed to become his wife.\n\nOne day there was to be a great gathering, lasting thirteen days, in\na temple in the neighbourhood. And when all the people were assembled\ntogether, it was found that it was just this woman, the wife of the\nwhite bird, who was more comely than all the other women. And among\nthe men there was a mighty rider, mounted on a dappled grey horse,\nwho was so far superior to all the rest, that when he had trotted\nthrice round the assembly and ridden away again, they could not cease\ntalking of his grace and comeliness, and his mastery of his steed.\n\nWhen the wife came back home again to the palace in the rock, the\nwhite bird said to her, \"Among all the men and women at the festival,\nwho was regarded to have given the proofs of superiority?\" And she\nanswered, \"Among the men, it was one riding on a dappled grey horse;\nand among the women, it was I.\" Thus it happened every day of the\nfestival, neither was there any, of men or women, that could compete\nwith these two.\n\nOn the twelfth day, when the woman that was married to the white\nbird went again to the festival, she had for her next neighbour an\nancient woman, who asked her how it had befallen the other days of\nthe feast; and she told her, saying, \"Among all the women none has\novermatched me; but among the men, there is none to compare with the\nmighty rider on the dappled grey horse. If I could but have such a\nman for my husband, there would be nothing left to wish for all the\ndays of my life!\" Then said the ancient woman, \"And why shouldst\nthou not have such a man for thy husband?\" But she began to weep,\nand said, \"Because I have already promised to be the wife of a white\nbird.\" \"That is just right!\" answered the ancient woman. \"Behold,\nto-morrow is the thirteenth day of the assembly; but come not thou to\nthe feast, only make as though thou wert going: hide thyself behind the\nemerald door. When thou seemest to be gone, the white bird will leave\nhis perch, and assuming his man's form, will go into the stable, and\nsaddle his dappled grey steed, and ride to the festival as usual. Then\ncome thou out of thy hiding-place, and burn his perch, and cage, and\nfeathers; so will he have henceforth to wear his natural form.\" Thus\nthe ancient woman instructed the wife of the white bird.\n\nThe next day the woman did all that she had been told, even according\nto the words of the ancient woman. But as she longed exceedingly to see\nher husband return, she placed herself behind a pillar where she could\nsee him coming a long way. At last, as the sun began to sink quite red\ntowards the horizon, she saw him coming on his dapple-grey horse. \"How\nis this?\" he exclaimed, as he espied her. \"You got back sooner than I,\nthen?\" And she answered, \"Yes, I got home the first.\" Then inquired he\nfurther, \"Where is my perch and cage?\" And she made answer, \"Those have\nI burned in the fire, in order that thou mightest henceforth appear\nonly in thy natural form.\" Then he exclaimed, \"Knowest thou what thou\nhast done? In that cage had I left not my feathers only, but also my\nsoul (3)!\" And when she heard that, she wept sore, and besought him,\nsaying, \"Is there no means of restoration? Behold there is nothing\nthat I could not endure to recover thy soul.\" And the man answered,\n\"There is one only remedy. The gods and d\u00e6mons will come to-night to\nfetch me, because my soul is gone from me; but I can keep them in\nperpetual contest for seven days and seven nights. Thou, meantime,\ntake this stick, and with it hew and hew on at the mother-o'-pearl\ndoor without stopping or resting day or night. By the close of the\nseventh night thou shalt have hewn through the door, and I shall be\nfree from the gods and d\u00e6mons; but, bear in mind, that if thou cease\nfrom hewing for one single instant, or if weariness overtake thee for\none moment, then the gods and d\u00e6mons will carry me away with them--away\nfrom thee.\" Thus he spoke. Then the woman went and fetched little\nmotes of the feather-grass, and fixed her eyelids open with them,\nthat she might not be overtaken by slumber; and with the stick that\nher husband had given her she set to work, when night fell, to hew\nand hew on at the mother-o'-pearl door. Thus she hewed on and on,\nnor wearied, seven days and seven nights: only the seventh night,\nthe motes of grass having fallen out of one of her eyes so that she\ncould not keep the lid from closing once, in that instant the gods\nand d\u00e6mons prevailed against her husband, and carried him off.\n\nInconsolable, she set forth to wander after him, crying, \"Ah! my\nbeloved husband. My husband of the bird form!\" Notwithstanding that\nshe had not slept or left off toiling for seven days and seven nights,\nshe set out, without stopping to take rest, searching for him every\nwhere in earth and heaven (4).\n\nAt last, as she continued walking and crying out, she heard his voice\nanswering her from the top of a mountain. And when she had toiled up to\nthe top of the mountain, crying aloud after him, she heard him answer\nher from the bottom of a stream. When she came down again to the banks\nof the stream, still calling loudly upon him, there she found him by\na sacred Ob\u00f6, raised to the gods by the wayside (5). He sat there with\na great bundle of old boots upon his back, as many as he could carry.\n\nWhen they had met, he said to her, \"This meeting with thee once\nmore rejoices my heart. The gods and d\u00e6mons have made me their\nwater-carrier; and in toiling up and down from the river to their\nmountain (6) so many times, I have worn out all these pairs of boots.\"\n\nBut she answered, \"Tell me, O beloved, what can I do to deliver thee\nfrom this bondage?\"\n\nAnd he answered, \"There is only this remedy, O faithful one. Even\nthat thou return now home, and build another cage like to the one\nthat was burned, and that having built it, thou woo my soul back\ninto it. Which when thou hast done, I myself must come back thither,\nnor can gods or d\u00e6mons withhold me.\"\n\nSo she went back home, and built a cage like to the one that was\nburned, and wooed the soul of her husband back into it; and thus\nwas her husband delivered from the power of the gods and d\u00e6mons,\nand came back to her to live with her always.\n\n\n\n\"In truth that was a glorious woman for a wife!\" exclaimed the Khan.\n\n\"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened\nhis lips,\" replied the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr. And with the cry, \"To escape out of\nthis world is good!\" he sped him through the air, swift out of sight.\n\n\n\nThus far of the Adventures of the Well-and-wise-walking Khan the\nseventh chapter, of how it befell the White Bird and his Wife.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE VIII.\n\n\nWhen the Well-and-wise-walking Khan found that he had again missed the\nend and object of his labour, he proceeded yet again as heretofore\nto the cool grove, and having taken captive the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr bore him\nalong to present to the Master and Teacher N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una. But by the way\nthe Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr asked him to tell a tale, and when he would not speak,\ncraved of him the token that he willed he should tell one; which,\nwhen he had given, he told this tale, saying,--\n\n\n\nHOW \u00c2NANDA THE WOOD-CARVER AND \u00c2NANDA THE PAINTER STROVE AGAINST\nEACH OTHER.\n\nLong ages ago there lived in a kingdom which was called Kun-smon\n(1), a Khan named Kun-snang (2). When this Khan departed this life\nhis son named Chamut Ssakiktschi (3) succeeded to the throne.\n\nIn the same kingdom lived a painter named \u00c2nanda (4), and a wood-carver\nalso named \u00c2nanda. These men were friends of each other apparently,\nbut jealousy reigned in their hearts.\n\nOne day, now, it befell that \u00c2nanda the painter, whom to distinguish\nfrom the other, we will call by his Tibetian name of Kun-dgah instead\nof by his Sanskrit name of \u00c2nanda, appeared before the Khan, and spoke\nin this wise: \"O Khan, thy father, born anew into the kingdom of the\ngods, called me thither unto him, and straightway hearing his behest,\nI obeyed it.\" As he spoke he handed to \"All-protecting\" the Khan,\na forged strip of writing which was conceived after this manner:--\n\n\"To my son Chotolo (5) Ssakiktschi!\n\n\"When I last parted from thee, I took my flight out of the lower life,\nand was born again into the kingdom of the gods (6). Here I have my\nabode in plenitude, yea, superabundance of all that I require. Only\none thing is wanting. In order to complete a temple I am building,\nI find not one to adorn it cunning in his art like unto \u00c2nanda our\nwood-carver. Wherefore, I charge thee, son Chotolo-Ssakiktschi, call\nunto thee \u00c2nanda the wood-carver, and send him up hither to me. The\nway and means of his coming shall be explained unto thee by Kun-dgah\nthe painter.\"\n\nSuch was the letter that Kun-dgah the painter, with crafty art,\ndelivered to Kun-tschong (7), the Khan. Which when the Khan had read\nhe said to him--\"That the Khan, my father, is in truth born anew into\nthe gods' kingdom is very good.\"\n\nAnd forthwith he sent for \u00c2nanda the wood-carver, and spoke thus to\nhim: \"My father, the Khan, is new born into the gods' kingdom, and is\nthere building a temple. For this purpose he has need of a wood-carver;\nbut can find none cunning in his art like unto thee. Now, therefore,\nhe has written unto me to send thee straightway above unto him.\" With\nthese words he handed the strip of writing into his hands.\n\nBut the Wood-carver when he had read it thought within himself,\n\"This is indeed contrary to all rule and precedent. Do I not scent\nhere some craft of Kun-dgah the painter? Nevertheless, shall I not\nfind a means to provide against his mischievous intent?\" Then he\nraised his voice, and spoke thus aloud to the Khan:--\n\n\"Tell me, O Khan, how shall I a poor Wood-carver attain to the gods'\nkingdom?\"\n\n\"In this,\" replied the Khan, \"shall the Painter instruct thee.\"\n\nAnd while the Wood-carver said within himself, \"Have I not smelt\nthee out, thou crafty one?\" the Khan sent and fetched the Painter\ninto his presence. Then having commanded him to declare the way and\nmanner of the journey into the gods' kingdom, the Painter answered\nin this wise,--\n\n\"When thou hast collected all the materials and instruments\nappertaining to thy calling, and hast gathered them at thy feet, thou\nshalt order a pile of beams of wood well steeped in spirit distilled\nfrom sesame grain to be heaped around thee. Then to the accompaniment\nof every solemn-sounding instrument kindle the pile, and rise to the\ngods' kingdom borne on obedient clouds of smoke as on a swift charger.\"\n\nThe Wood-carver durst not refuse the behest of the Khan; but obtained\nan interval of seven days in order to collect the materials and\ninstruments of his calling, but also to consider and find out a\nmeans of avenging the astuteness of the Painter. Then he went home,\nand told his wife all that had befallen him.\n\nHis wife, without hesitating, proposed to him a means of evading while\nseeming to fulfil the decree. In a field belonging to him at a short\ndistance from his house, she caused a large flat stone to be placed,\non which the sacrifice was to be consummated. But under it by night\nshe had an underground passage made, communicating with the house.\n\nWhen the eighth day had arrived the Khan rose and said, \"This is\nthe day that the Wood-carver is to go up to my father into the gods'\nkingdom.\"\n\nAnd all the people were assembled round the pile of wood steeped in\nspirit distilled from sesame grain, in the Wood-carver's field. It\nwas a pile of the height of a man, well heaped up, and in its midst\nstood the Wood-carver calm and impassible, while all kinds of musical\ninstruments sent up their solemn-sounding tones.\n\nWhen the smoke of the spirit-steeped wood began to rise in concealing\ndensity, the Wood-carver pushed aside the stone with his feet, and\nreturned to his home by the underground way his wife had had made\nfor him.\n\nBut the Painter, never doubting but that he must have fallen a prey\nto the flames, rubbed his hands and pointing with his finger in joy\nand triumph to the curling smoke, cried out to the people,--\n\n\"Behold the spirit of our brother \u00c2nanda the wood-carver, ascending on\nthe obedient clouds as on a swift charger to the kingdom of the gods!\"\n\nAnd all the people followed the point of his finger with their eyes\nand believing his words, they cried out,--\n\n\"Behold the spirit of \u00c2nanda the wood-carver, ascending to adorn the\ntemple of the gods' kingdom.\"\n\nAnd now for the space of a whole month the Wood-carver remained closely\nat home letting himself be seen by no one save his wife only. Daily\nhe washed himself over with milk, and sat in the shade out of the\ncoloured light of the sun. At the end of the month his wife brought him\na garment of white gauze, with which he covered himself; and he wrote,\nhe also, a feigned letter, and went up with it to \"All-protecting\"\nthe Khan.\n\nAs soon as the Khan saw him he cried out,--\n\n\"How art thou returned from the gods' kingdom? And how didst thou\nleave my father 'All-knowing' the Khan?\"\n\nThen \u00c2nanda the wood-carver handed to him the forged letter which he\nhad prepared, and he caused it to be read aloud before the people in\nthese words:--\n\n\"To my son, Chotolo-Ssakiktschi.\n\n\"That thou occupiest thyself without wearying in leading thy people in\nthe way of prosperity and happiness is well. As regards the erection of\nthe temple up here, concerning which I wrote thee in my former letter,\n\u00c2nanda the wood-carver hath well executed the part we committed to him,\nand we charge thee that thou recompense him richly for his labour. But\nin order to the entire completion of the same, we stand in need of a\npainter to adorn with cunning art the sculpture he hath executed. When\nthis cometh into thy hands, therefore, send straightway for Kun-dgah\nthe painter, for there is none other like to him, and let him come\nup to us forthwith; according to the same way and manner that thou\nheretofore sendedst unto us \u00c2nanda the wood-carver, shall he come.\"\n\nWhen the Khan had heard the letter, he rejoiced greatly, and said,\n\"These are in truth the words of my father, 'All-knowing' the\nKhan.\" And he loaded \u00c2nanda the wood-carver with rich rewards, but\nsent and called unto him Kun-dgah the painter.\n\nKun-dgah the painter came with all haste into the presence of the Khan,\nwho caused the letter of his father to be read out to him; and he as\nhe heard it was seized with great fear and trembling; but when he saw\n\u00c2nanda the wood-carver standing whole before him, all white from the\nmilk-washing and clad in the costly garment of gauze as if the light\nof the gods' kingdom yet clove to him, he said within himself,--\n\n\"Surely the fire hath not burnt him, as I see him before mine eyes,\nso neither shall it burn me; and if I refuse to go a worse death will\nbe allotted me, while if I accept the charge I shall receive rich\nrewards like unto \u00c2nanda,\" So he consented to have his painter's\ngear in readiness in seven days, and to go up to the gods' kingdom\nby means of the pile burnt with fire.\n\nWhen the seven days were passed, all the people assembled in the\nfield of Kun-dgah the painter, and the Khan came in his robes of\nstate surrounded by the officers of his palace, and the ministers of\nthe kingdom. The pile was well heaped up of beams of wood steeped in\nspirit distilled from sesame grain; in the midst they placed Kun-dgah\nthe painter, and with the melody of every solemn-sounding instrument\nthey set fire to the pile. Kun-dgah fortified himself for the torture\nby the expectation that soon he would begin to rise on the clouds of\nsmoke; but when he found that, instead of this, his body sank to the\nground with unendurable pain, he shouted out to the people to come\nand release him. But the device whereby he had intended to drown the\ncries of the Wood-carver prevailed against him. No one could hear\nhis voice for the noise of the resounding instruments; and thus he\nperished miserably in the flames.\n\n\n\n\"Truly that bad man was rewarded according to his deserts!\" exclaimed\nthe Prince.\n\nAnd as he let these words escape him thoughtlessly, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr\nreplied, \"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Prince hath\nopened his lips.\" And with the cry, \"To escape out of this world is\ngood!\" he sped him through the air, swift out of sight.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE IX.\n\n\nWhen the Well-and-wise-walking Khan found that he had again missed\nthe end and object of his labour, he proceeded yet again to the cool\ngrove, and having in the same manner as heretofore taken captive\nthe Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr, bore him along to present to his Master and Teacher\nN\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una.\n\nBut by the way the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr asked him to tell a tale, and when he\nwould not speak craved the token that he willed he should tell one,\nwhich when the Prince had given he told this tale, saying,--\n\n\n\nFIVE TO ONE.\n\nLong ages ago there lived among the subjects of a great kingdom\nsix youths who were all boon companions. One was a smith's son, and\none was a wood-carver's son; one was a painter's son, and one was a\ndoctor's son; one was an accountant's son, and one was a rich man's\nson, who had no trade or profession, but plenty of money.\n\nThese six determined on taking a journey to find the opportunity of\nestablishing themselves in life; so they all six set out together,\nhaving taken leave of their friends, and the rich man's son providing\nthe cost.\n\nWhen they had journeyed on a long way together without any thing\nparticular befalling them, as they were beginning to weary of carrying\non the same sort of life day by day, they came to a place where the\nwaters of six streams met, flowing thither from various directions,\nand they said, \"All these days we have journeyed together, and none of\nus have met with the opportunity of settling or making a living. Let\nus now each go forth alone, each one following back the course of one\nof these rivers to its source, and see what befalls us then.\" So each\nplanted a tree at the head of the stream he chose, and they agreed that\nall should meet again at the same spot, and if any failed to appear,\nand his tree had withered away, it should be taken as a token that\nevil had befallen him, and that then his companions should follow\nhis river, and search for him and deliver him.\n\nHaving come to this agreement, each one went his way.\n\nThe rich man's son followed the wanderings of his stream without\nfalling in with any one till he had reached the very source of the\nriver-head; here was a meadow skirting a forest, and on the border of\nthe forest a dwelling. Towards this dwelling the youth directed his\nsteps. There lived here an ancient man along with his ancient wife,\nwho when they saw the youth opening the gate cried out to him,--\n\n\"Young man! wherefore comest thou hither, and whence comest thou?\"\n\n\"I come from a far country,\" answered the youth, \"and I am journeying\nto find the occasion of settling myself in life; and thus journeying,\nmy steps have brought me hither.\"\n\nWhen the ancient man and his wife saw that he was a comely youth and\nwell-spoken, they said, \"If this is indeed so, it is well that thy\nsteps have brought thee hither, for we have here a beautiful daughter,\ncharming in form and delightful in conversation; take her and become\nour son.\"\n\nAs they said these words the daughter appeared on the threshold of\nthe dwelling, and when the youth saw her he said within himself,\n\"This is no common child of earth, but one of the daughters of the\nheavenly gods (1). What better can befall me than that I should marry\nher and live here the rest of my days in her company?\"\n\nThe maiden, too, said to him, \"It is well, O youth, that thy steps\nhave brought thee hither.\" Thus they began conversing together, and\nthe youth established himself on the spot and lived with his wife in\npeace and happiness.\n\nThis dwelling, however, was within the dominions of a mighty Khan. One\nday, as his minions were disporting themselves in the river, they\nfound a ring all set with curious jewels, in cunning workmanship,\nwhich the rich youth's wife had dropped while bathing, and the stream\nhad carried it along to where the Khan's minions were. As the ring\nwas wonderful to behold, they brought it to the Khan.\n\nThe eyes of the Khan, who was a man of understanding, no sooner\nlighted on the ring than he turned and said to his attendants,--\n\n\"Somewhere on the borders of this stream, and higher up its course,\nlives a most beautiful woman, more beautiful than all the wives of\nthe Khan; go fetch her and bring her to me.\"\n\nThe Khan's attendants set out on their mission, and visited all the\ndwellers on the banks of the stream, but they found no woman exceeding\nin beauty all the wives of the Khan till they came to the wife of\nthe rich youth. When they saw her, they had no doubt it must be she\nthat the Khan had meant. Saying, therefore, \"The Khan hath sent for\nthee,\" they carried her off to the palace; but the rich youth followed\nmourning, as near as he could approach.\n\nWhen the Khan saw her, he said, \"This is of a truth no child of earth;\nshe must be the daughter of the heavenly gods. Beside of her all my\nother wives are but as dogs and swine,\" and he took her and placed her\nfar above them all. But she only wept, and could think of nothing but\nthe rich youth. When the Khan saw how she wept and thought only of the\nrich youth, he said to his courtiers, \"Rid me of this fellow.\" And so,\nto please the Khan, they treacherously invited him to a lone place\non the bank of the river, as if to join in some game; but when they\nhad got him there they thrust him into a hole in the ground, and then\nrolled a piece of rock on the top of it, and so put him to death.\n\nIn the meantime, the day came round on which the six companions\nhad agreed to come together at the spot where the six streams met;\nand there the five others arrived in due course, but the rich youth\ncame not; and when they looked at the tree he had planted by the\nside of his stream, behold, it had withered away. In accordance with\ntheir promise, therefore, they all set out to follow the course of his\nstream and to search him out. But when they had wandered on a long way\nand found no trace of him, the accountant's son sat down to reckon,\nand by his reckoning he discovered that he must have gone so far into\nsuch a kingdom, and that he must lie buried under a rock. Following\nthe course of his reckoning, the five soon came upon the spot where\nthe rich youth lay buried under the rock. But when they saw how big\nthe rock was, they said, \"Who shall suffice to remove the rock and\nuncover the body of our companion?\"\n\n\"That will I!\" cried the smith's son, and, taking his hammer, he\nbroke the rock in pieces and brought to light the body of the rich\nyouth. When his companions saw him they were filled with compassion\nand cried aloud, \"Who shall give back to us our friend, the companion\nof our youth?\"\n\n\"That will I!\" cried the doctor's son, and he mixed a potion which,\nwhen he had given it to the corpse to drink, gave him power to rise\nup as if no harm had ever befallen him.\n\nWhen they saw him all well again, and free to speak, they every one\ncame round him, assailing him with manifold questions upon how he\nhad fallen into this evil plight, and upon all that had happened to\nhim since they parted. But when he had told them all his story from\nbeginning to end, they all agreed his wife must have been a wonderful\nmaiden indeed, and they cried out, \"Who shall be able to restore his\nwife to our brother?\"\n\n\"That will I!\" cried the wood-carver's son. \"And I!\" cried the\npainter's son.\n\nSo the wood-carver's son set to work, and of the log of a tree he\nhewed out a Garuda-bird (2), and fashioned it with springs, so that\nwhen a man sat in it he could direct it this way or that whithersoever\nhe listed to go; and the painter's son adorned it with every pleasant\ncolour. Thus together they perfected a most beautiful bird.\n\nThe rich youth lost no time in placing himself inside the beautiful\ngaruda-bird, and, touching the spring, flew straight away right over\nthe royal palace.\n\nThe king was in the royal gardens, with all his court about him, and\nquickly espied the garuda-bird, and esteemed himself fortunate that\nthe beautiful garuda-bird, the king of birds, the bearer of Vishnu,\nshould have deigned to visit his residence; and because he reckoned\nno one else was worthy of the office, he appointed the most beautiful\nof his wives to go up and offer it food.\n\nAccordingly, the wife of the rich youth herself went up on to the\nroof of the palace with food to the royal bird. But the rich youth,\nwhen he saw her approach, opened the door of the wooden garuda and\nshowed himself to her. Nor did she know how to contain herself for\ndelight when she found he was therein.\n\n\"Never had I dared hope that these eyes should light on thee again,\njoy of my heart!\" she exclaimed. \"How madest thou then the garuda-bird\nobedient to thy word to bring thee hither?\"\n\nBut he, full only of the joy of finding her again, and that she still\nloved him as before, could only reply,--\n\n\"Though thou reignest now in a palace as the Khan's wife in splendour\nand wealth, if thine heart yet belongeth to me thine husband, come\nup into the garuda-bird, and we will fly away out of the power of\nthe Khan for ever.\"\n\nTo which she made answer, \"Truly, though I reign now in the palace as\nthe Khan's wife in splendour and wealth, yet is my heart and my joy\nwith thee alone, my husband. Of what have my thoughts been filled\nall through these days of absence, but of thee only, and for whom\nelse do I live?\"\n\nWith that she mounted into the wooden garuda-bird into the arms of\nher husband, and full of joy they flew away together.\n\nBut the Khan and his court, when they saw what had happened, were\ndismayed.\n\n\"Because I sent my most beautiful wife to carry food to the\ngaruda-bird, behold she is taken from me,\" cried the Khan, and he\nthrew himself on the ground as if he would have died of grief.\n\nBut the rich youth directed the flight of the wooden garuda-bird,\nso that it regained the place where his five companions awaited him.\n\n\"Have your affairs succeeded?\" inquired they, as he descended.\n\n\"That they have abundantly,\" answered the rich youth.\n\nWhile he spoke, his wife had also descended out of the wooden\ngaruda-bird, whom when his five companions saw, they were all as madly\nsmitten in love with her as the Khan himself had been, and they all\nbegan to reason with one another about it.\n\nBut the rich youth said, \"True it is to you, my dear and faithful\ncompanions, I owe it that by means of what you have done for me,\nI have been delivered from the power of cruel death, and still more\nthat there has been restored to me my wife, who is yet dearer far to\nme. For this, my gratitude will not be withheld; but what shall all\nthis be to me if you now talk of tearing her from mine arms again?\"\n\nUpon which the accountant's son stood forward and said, \"It is to me\nthou owest all. What could these have done for thee without the aid\nof my reckoning? They wandered hither and thither and found not the\nplace of thy burial, until I had reckoned the thing, and told them\nwhither to go. To me thou owest thy salvation, so give me thy wife\nfor my guerdon.\"\n\nBut the smith's son stood forward and said, \"It is to me thou owest\nall. What could all these have done for thee without the aid of mine\narm? It was very well that they should come and find the spot where\nthou wert held bound by the rock; but all they could do was to stand\ngazing at it. Only the might of my arm shattered it. It is to me thou\nowest all, so give me thy wife for my guerdon.\"\n\nThen the doctor's son stood forward and said, \"It is to me thou owest\nall. What could all these have done without the aid of my knowledge? It\nwas well that they should find thee, and deliver thee from under the\nrock; but what would it have availed had not my potion restored thee to\nlife? It is to me thou owest all, so give me thy wife for my guerdon.\"\n\n\"Nay!\" interposed the wood-carver's son, \"nay, but it is to my craft\nthou owest all. The woman had never been rescued from the power of the\nKhan but by means of my wooden garuda-bird. Behold, are we six unarmed\nmen able to have laid siege to the Khan's palace? And as no man is\nsuffered to pass within its portal, never had she been reached, but\nby means of my bird. So it is I clearly who have most claim to her.\"\n\n\"Not so!\" cried the painter's son. \"It is to my art the whole is\ndue. What would the garuda-bird have availed had I not painted it\ndivinely? Unless adorned by my art never had the Khan sent his most\nbeautiful wife to offer it food. To me is due the deliverance, and\nto me the prize, therefore.\"\n\nThus they all strove together; and as they could not agree which should\nhave her, and she would go with none of them but only the rich youth,\nher husband, they all seized her to gain possession of her, till in\nthe end she was torn in pieces.\n\n\n\n\"Then if each one had given her up to the other he would have been no\nworse off,\" cried the Prince. And as he let these words escape him, the\nSiddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr replied, \"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking\nKhan hath opened his lips.\" And with the cry, \"To escape out of this\nworld is good!\" he sped him through the air, swift out of sight.\n\n\n\nOf the Adventures of the Well-and-wise-walking Khan the ninth chapter,\nof the story of Five to One.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE X.\n\n\nWhen the Well-and-wise-walking Khan found that the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr had\nonce more escaped, he went forth yet another time to the cool grove,\nand sought him out as before; and having been solicited by him to give\nthe sign of consent to his telling a tale, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr commenced\nafter the following manner:--\n\n\n\nTHE BITING CORPSE.\n\nLong ages ago, there lived two brothers who had married two\nsisters. Nevertheless, from some cause, the hearts of the two\nbrothers were estranged from each other. Moreover, the elder brother\nwas exceeding miserly and morose of disposition. The elder brother\nalso had amassed great riches; but he gave no portion of them unto\nhis younger brother. One day the elder brother made preparations\nfor a great feast, and invited to it all the inhabitants of the\nneighbourhood. The younger brother said privately to his wife on this\noccasion, \"Although my brother has never behaved as a brother unto\nus, yet surely now that he is going to have such a great gathering\nof neighbours and acquaintances, it beseemeth not that he should fail\nto invite also his own flesh and blood.\"\n\nNevertheless he invited him not. The next day, however, he said again\nto his wife, \"Though he invited us not yesterday, yet surely this\nsecond day of the feast he will not fail to send and call us.\"\n\nNevertheless he invited him not. Yet the third day likewise he expected\nthat he should have sent and called him; but he invited him not the\nthird day either. When he saw that he invited him not the third day\neither, he grew angry, and said within himself, \"Since he has not\ninvited me, I will even go and steal my portion of the feast.\"\n\nAs soon as it was dark, therefore--when all the people of his brother's\nhouse, having well drunk of the brandy he had provided, were deeply\nsunk in slumber,--the younger brother glided stealthily into his\nbrother's house, and hid himself in the store-chamber. But it was so,\nthat the elder brother, having himself well drank of the brandy, and\nbeing overcome with sound slumbers (1), his wife supported him along,\nand then put herself to sleep with him in the store-chamber. After a\nwhile, however, she rose up again, chose of the best meat and dainties,\ncooked them with great care, and went out, taking with her what she\nhad prepared. When the brother saw this, he was astonished, and,\nabandoning for the moment his intention of possessing himself of a\nshare of the good things, went out, that he might follow his brother's\nwife. Behind the house was a steep rock, and on the other side of the\nrock a dismal, dreary burying-place. Hither it was that she betook\nherself. In the midst of a patch of grass in this burying-place was\na piece of paved floor; on this lay the body of a man, withered and\ndried--it was the body of her former husband (2); to him, therefore,\nshe brought all these good dishes. After kissing and hugging him,\nand calling upon him by name, she opened his mouth, and tried to\nput the food into it. Then, see! suddenly the dead man's mouth was\njerked to again, breaking the copper spoon in two. And when she had\nopened it again, trying once more to feed him, it closed again as\nviolently as before, this time snapping off the tip of the woman's\nnose. After this, she gathered her dishes together, and went home,\nand went to bed again. Presently she made as though she had woke up,\nwith a lamentable cry, and accused her husband of having bitten off\nher nose in his sleep. The man declared he had never done any such\nthing; but as the woman had to account for the damage to her nose,\nshe felt bound to go on asseverating that he had done it. The dispute\ngrew more and more violent between them, and the woman in the morning\ntook the case before the Khan, accusing her husband of having bitten\noff the tip of her nose. As all the neighbours bore witness that\nthe nose was quite right on the previous night, and the tip was now\ncertainly bitten off, the Khan had no alternative but to decide in\nfavour of the woman; and the husband was accordingly condemned to\nthe stake for the wilful and malicious injury.\n\nBefore many hours it reached the ears of the younger brother that\nhis elder brother had been condemned to the stake; and when he had\nheard the whole matter, in spite of his former ill-treatment of him,\nhe ran forthwith before the Khan, and gave information of how the\nwoman had really come by the injury, and how that his brother had no\nfault in the matter.\n\nThen said the Khan, \"That thou shouldst seek to save the life of\nthy brother is well; but this story that thou hast brought before\nus, who shall believe? Do dead men gnash their teeth and bite the\nliving? Therefore in that thou hast brought false testimony against the\nwoman, behold, thou also hast fallen into the jaws of punishment.\" And\nhe gave sentence that all that he possessed should be confiscated,\nand that he should be a beggar at the gate of his enemies (3), with\nhis head shorn (4). \"Let it be permitted to me to speak again,\" said\nthe younger brother, \"and I will prove to the Khan the truth of what\nI have advanced.\" And the Khan having given him permission to speak,\nhe said, \"Let the Khan now send to the burying-place on the other side\nof the rock, and there in the mouth of the corpse shall be found the\ntip of this woman's nose.\" Then the Khan sent, and found it was even\nas he had said. So he ordered both brothers to be set at liberty,\nand the woman to be tied to the stake.\n\n\n\n\"It were well if a Khan had always such good proof to guide his\njudgments,\" exclaimed the Well-and-wise-walking Khan.\n\nAnd as he let these words escape him, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr replied,\n\"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened\nhis lips.\" And with the cry, \"To escape out of this world is good,\"\nhe sped him through the air, swift out of sight.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE XI.\n\n\nWherefore the Well-and-wise-walking Khan went forth yet again, and\nfetched the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr. And as he brought him along, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr\ntold this tale:--\n\n\n\nTHE PRAYER MAKING SUDDENLY RICH.\n\nLong ages ago, there was situated in the midst of a mighty kingdom\na god's temple, exactly one day's journey distant from every part\nof the kingdom. Here was a statue of the Chongschim Bodhisattva (1)\nwrought in clay. Hard by this temple was the lowly dwelling of an\nancient couple with their only daughter. At the mouth of a stream\nwhich watered the place, was a village where lived a poor man. One\nday this man went up as far as the source of the stream to sell his\nfruit, which he carried in a basket. On his way home he passed the\nnight under shelter of the temple. As he lay there on the ground,\nhe overheard, through the open door of the lowly dwelling, the aged\ncouple reasoning thus with one another: \"Now that we are both old and\nwell-stricken in years, it were well that we married our only daughter\nto some good man,\" said the father. \"Thy words are words of truth,\"\nreplied the mother. \"Behold, all that we have in this world is our\ndaughter and our store of jewels. Have we not all our lives through\noffered sacrifice at the shrine of the Chongschim Bodhisattva? have we\nnot promoted his worship, and spread his renown? shall he not therefore\ndirect us aright in our doings? To-morrow, which is the eighth day\nof the new moon, therefore, we will offer him sacrifice, and inquire\nof him what we shall do with our daughter Suvarnadhar\u00ee (2): whether\nwe shall devote her to the secular or religious condition of life.\"\n\nWhen the man had heard this, he determined what to do. Having found a\nway into the temple, he made a hole in the Buddha-image, and placed\nhimself inside it. Early in the morning, the old man and his wife\ncame, with their daughter, and offered their sacrifice. Then said the\nfather, \"Divine Chongschim Bodhisattva! let it now be made known to\nus, whether is better, that we choose for our daughter the secular\nor religious condition of life? And if it be the secular, then show\nus to whom we shall give her for a husband.\"\n\nWhen he had spoken these words the poor man inside the Buddha-image\ncrept up near the mouth of the same, and spoke thus in solemn tones:--\n\n\"For your daughter the secular state is preferable. Give her for wife\nto the man who shall knock at your gate early in the morning.\"\n\nAt these words both the man and his wife fell into great joy,\nexclaiming, \"Chutuktu (3) hath spoken! Chutuktu hath spoken!\"\n\nHaving watched well from the earliest dawn that no one should call\nbefore him, the man now knocked at the gate of the old couple. When\nthe father saw a stranger standing before the door, he cried, \"Here\nin very truth is he whom Buddha hath sent!\" So they entreated him to\ncome in with great joy; prepared a great feast to entertain him, and,\nhaving given him their daughter in marriage, sent them away with all\ntheir store of gold and precious stones.\n\nAs the man drew near his home he said within himself, \"I have got all\nthese things out of the old people, through craft and treachery. Now I\nmust hide the maiden and the treasure, and invent a new story.\" Then\nhe shut up the maiden and the treasure in a wooden box, and buried\nit in the sand of the steppe (4).\n\nWhen he came home he said to all his friends and neighbours, \"With\nall the labour of my life riches have not been my portion. I must\nnow undertake certain practices of devotion to appease the d\u00e6mons\nof hunger; give me alms to enable me to fulfil them.\" So the people\ngave him alms. Then said he the next day, \"Now go I to offer up\n'the Prayer which makes suddenly rich.'\" And again they gave him alms.\n\nWhile he was thus engaged it befell that a Khan's son went out hunting\nwith two companions, with their bows and arrows, having with them a\ntiger as a pastime to amuse them while journeying. They rode across\nthe steppe, just over the track which the poor man had followed; and\nseeing there the sand heaped up the Prince's attention fell on it,\nand he shot an arrow right into the midst of the heap. But the arrow,\ninstead of striking into the sand, fell down, because it had glanced\nagainst the top of the box.\n\nThen said the Khan's son, \"Let us draw near and see how this befell.\"\n\nSo they drew near; and when the servants had dug away the sand they\nfound the wooden box which the man had buried. The Khan's son then\nordered the servants to open the box; and when they had opened it\nthey found the maiden and the jewels.\n\nThen said the Khan's son, \"Who art thou, beautiful maiden?\"\n\nAnd the maiden answered, \"I am the daughter of a serpent-god.\"\n\nThen said the Khan's son, \"Come out of the box, and I will take thee\nto be my wife.\"\n\nBut the maiden answered, \"I come not out of the box except some other\nbe put into the same.\"\n\nTo which the Prince replied, \"That shall be done,\" and he commanded\nthat they put the tiger into the box; but the maiden and the jewels\nhe took with him.\n\nMeantime the poor man had completed the prayers and the ceremonies\n'to make suddenly rich,' and he said, \"Now will I go and fetch the\nmaiden and the treasure.\" With that he traced his way back over the\nsteppe to the place where he had buried the box, and dug it out of\nthe sand, not perceiving that the Prince's servants had taken it up\nand buried it again. Then, lading it on to his shoulder, he brought\nthe same into his inner apartment. But to his wife he said, \"To-night\nis the last of the ceremony 'for making suddenly rich.' I must shut\nmyself up in my inner apartment to perform it, and go through it all\nalone. What noise soever thou mayst hear, therefore, beware, on thy\nperil, that thou open not the door, neither approach it.\"\n\nThis he said, being minded to rid himself of the maiden, who might have\nbetrayed the real means by which he became possessed of the treasure,\nby killing her and hiding her body under the earth.\n\nThen having taken off all his clothes, that they might not be soiled\nwith the blood he was about to spill, and prepared himself thus to\nput the woman to death, he lifted up the lid of the box, saying,\n\"Maiden, fear nothing!\" But on the instant the tiger sprang out upon\nhim and threw him to the ground. In vain he cried aloud with piteous\ncries. All the time that his bare flesh was delivered over to the\nteeth and claws of the unpitying tiger his wife and children were\nlaughing, and saying, \"How is our father diligent in offering up\n'the Prayer which makes suddenly rich!'\"\n\nBut when, the next morning, he came not out, all the neighbours came\nand opened the door of the inner apartment, and they found only his\nbones which the tiger had well cleaned; but having so well satisfied\nits appetite, it walked out through their midst without hurting any\nof them.\n\nIn process of time, however, the maiden whom the Khan's son had\ntaken to his palace had lived happily with him, and they had a\nfamily of three children; and she was blameless and honoured before\nall. Nevertheless, envious people spread the gossip that she had come\nno one knew whence; and when they brought the matter before the king's\ncouncil it was said, \"How shall a Khan's son whose mother was found\nin a box under the sand reign over us? And what will be thought of\na Khan's son who has no uncles?\"\n\nThese things reached the ears of the Khanin, and, fearing lest they\nshould take her sons from her and put them to death that they might not\nreign, she resolved to take them with her and go home to her parents.\n\nOn the fifteenth of the month, while the light of the moon shone\nabroad, she took her three sons and set out on her way.\n\nWhen it was about midday she had arrived nigh to the habitation of\nher parents; but at a place where formerly all had been waste she\nfound many labourers at work ploughing the land, directing them was\na noble youth of comely presence. When the youth saw the Khan's wife\ncoming over the field he asked her whence she came; answering, she\ntold him she had journeyed from afar to see her parents, who lived by\nthe temple of Chongschim Bodhisattva on the other side of the mountain.\n\n\"And you are their daughter?\" pursued the young man.\n\n\"Even so; and out of filial regard am I come to visit them,\" answered\nthe Khanin.\n\n\"Then you are my sister,\" returned the youth, \"for I am their son; and\nthey have always told me I had an elder sister who was gone afar off.\"\n\nThen he invited her to partake of his midday meal, and after\nthey had dined they set out together to find the lowly dwelling\nof their parents. But when they had come round to the other side\nof the mountain in the place where the lowly habitation had stood,\nbehold there was now a whole congeries of palaces, each finer than the\nresidence of the husband of the Khanin! All over they were hung with\nfloating streamers of gay-coloured silks. The temple of the Chongschim\nBodhisattva itself had been rebuilt with greater magnificence than\nbefore, and was resplendent with gold, and diamonds, and streamers\nof silk, and furnished with mellow-toned bells whose sound chimed\nfar out into the waste.\n\n\"To whom does all this magnificence belong?\" inquired the Khanin.\n\n\"It all belongs to us,\" replied the youth. \"Our parents, too, are\nwell and happy; come and see them.\"\n\nAs they drew near their parents came out to meet them, looking hale and\nhearty and riding on horses. Behind them came a train of attendants\nleading horses for the Khanin and her brother. They all returned to\nthe palace where the parents dwelt, all being furnished with elegance\nand luxury. When they had talked over all the events that had befallen\neach since they parted, they went to rest on soft couches.\n\nWhen the Khanin saw the magnificence in which her parents were living\nshe bethought her that it would be well to invite the Khan to come\nand visit them. Accordingly she sent a splendid train of attendants\nto ask him to betake himself thither. Soon after, the Khan arrived,\ntogether with his ministers, and they were all of them struck with\nthe condition of pomp and state in which the Khanin was living,\nfar exceeding that of the Khan himself, the ministers owned, saying,\n\"The report we heard, saying that the Khanin had no relations but the\npoor and unknown, was manifestly false;\" and the Khan was all desire\nthat she should return home. To this request she gave her cordial\nassent, only, as her parents were now well-stricken in years, and it\nwas not likely she should have the opportunity of seeing them more,\nshe desired to spend a few days more by their side. It was agreed,\ntherefore, that the Khan and his ministers should return home, and\nthat after three days the Khanin also should come and join him.\n\nHaving taken affectionate leave of the Khan and seen him depart,\nshe betook herself to rest on her soft couch.\n\nWhen she woke in the morning, behold, all the magnificence of the\nplace was departed! There were no stately palaces; the temple of\nthe Chongschim Bodhisattva was the same unpretending structure it\nhad always been of old, only a little more worn down by time and\nweather; the lowly habitation of her parents was a shapeless ruin,\nand she was lying on the bare ground in one corner of it, with a\nheap of broken stones for a pillow. Her parents were dead long ago,\nand as for a brother there was no trace of one.\n\nThen she understood that the devas had sent the transformation to\nsatisfy the Khan and his ministers, and, that done, every thing had\nreturned to its natural condition.\n\nGrateful for the result, she now returned home, where the Khan received\nher with greater fondness than before. The ministers were satisfied\nas to the honour of the throne, all the gossips were put to silence\nfrom that day forward, and her three sons were brought up and trained\nthat they might reign in state after the Khan their father.\n\n\n\n\"Truly, that was a woman favoured by fortune beyond\nexpectation!\" exclaimed the Khan. And as he let these words\nescape him the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr replied, \"Forgetting his health, the\nWell-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened his lips.\" And with the cry,\n\"To escape out of this world is good!\" he sped him through the air,\nswift out of sight.\n\n\n\nThus far of the adventures of the Well-and-wise-walking Khan the\neleventh chapter, concerning \"The Prayer making suddenly Rich.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE XII.\n\n\nWherefore the Well-and-wise-walking Khan went forth yet again and\nfetched the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr; and as he brought him along the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr\ntold this tale:--\n\n\n\n\"CHILD-INTELLECT\" AND \"BRIGHT-INTELLECT.\"\n\nLong ages ago there lived a Khan who was called K\u00fcw\u00f4n-oj\u00f4tu\n(1). He reigned over a country so fruitful that it was surnamed\n\"Flower-clad.\" All round its borders grew mango-trees and groves of\nsandalwood (2), and vines and fruit-trees, and within there was of\ncorn of every kind no lack, and copious streams of water, and a mighty\nriver called \"The Golden,\" with flourishing cities all along its banks.\n\nAmong the subjects of this Khan was one named Geg\u00ean-uch\u00e2tu (3),\nrenowned for his wit and understanding. For him the Khan sent\none day, and spoke to him, saying, \"Men call thee 'him of bright\nunderstanding.' Now let us see whether the name becomes thee. To this\nend let us see if thou hast the wit to steal the Khan's talisman,\ndefying the jealous care of the Khan and all his guards. If thou\nsucceedest I will recompense thee with presents making glad the\nheart; but if not, then I will pronounce thee unworthily named, and\nin consequence will lay waste thy dwelling and put out both thine\neyes.\" Although the man ventured to prefer the remark, \"Stealing have\nI never learned,\" yet the Khan maintained the sentence that he had\nset forth.\n\nIn the night of the fifteenth of the month, therefore, the man made\nhimself ready to try the venture.\n\nBut the king, to make more sure, bound the talisman fast to a marble\npillar of his bed-chamber, against which he lay, and leaving the\ndoor open the better to hear the approach of the thief, surrounded\nthe same with a strong watch of guards.\n\nGeg\u00ean-uch\u00e2tu now took good provision of rice-brandy, and going in to\ntalk as if for pastime with the Khan's guards and servants, gave to\nevery one of them abundantly to drink thereof, and then went his way.\n\nAt the end of an hour he returned, when the rice-brandy had done its\nwork. The guards before the gate were fast asleep on their horses;\nthese he carried off their horses and set them astride on a ruined\nwall. In the kitchen were the cooks waiting to strike a light to\nlight the fire: over the head of the one nearest the fire he drew a\ncap woven of grass (4), and in the sleeve of the other he put three\nstones. Then going softly on into the Khan's apartment, without\nwaking him, he put over his head and face a dried bladder as hard\nas a stone; and the guards that slept around him he tied their hair\ntogether. Then he took down the talisman from the marble pillar to\nwhich it was bound and made off with it. Instantly, the Khan rose\nand raised the cry, \"A thief has been in here!\" But the guards could\nnot move because their hair was tied together, and cries of \"Don't\npull my hair!\" drowned the Khan's cries of \"Stop thief!\" As it was\nyet dark the Khan cried, yet more loudly, \"Kindle me a light!\" And\nhe cried, further, \"Not only is my talisman stolen, but my head is\nenclosed in a wall of stone! Bring me light that I may see what it\nis made of.\" When the cook, in his hurry to obey the Khan, began to\nblow the fire, the flame caught the cap woven of grass and blazed up\nand burnt his head off; and when his fellow raised his arm to help\nhim put out the fire the three stones, falling from his sleeve, hit\nhis head and made the blood flow, giving him too much to attend to\nfor him to be able to pursue the thief. Then the Khan called through\nthe window to the outer guards, who ought to have been on horseback\nbefore the gate, to stop the thief; and they, waking up at his voice,\nbegan vainly spurring at the ruined wall on which Geg\u00ean-uch\u00e2tu had set\nthem astride, and which, of course, brought them no nearer the subject\nof their pursuit, who thus made good his escape with the talisman,\nno man hindering him, all the way to his own dwelling.\n\nThe next day he came and stood before the Khan. The Khan sat on his\nthrone full of wrath and moody thoughts.\n\n\"Let not the Khan be angry,\" spoke the man of bright understanding,\n\"here is the talisman, which I sought not to retain for myself,\nbut only to take possession of according to the word of the Khan.\"\n\nThe Khan, however, answered him, saying, \"The talisman is at thy\ndisposition, nor do I wish to have it back from thee. Nevertheless,\nthy dealings this night, in that thou didst draw a stone-like bladder\nover the head of the Khan, were evil, for the fear came therefrom upon\nme lest thou hadst even pulled off my head; therefore my sentence\nupon thee is that thou be taken hence to the place of execution and\nbe beheaded by the headsman.\"\n\nHearing this sentence, Geg\u00ean-uch\u00e2tu said, within himself, \"In this\nsentence that he hath passed the Khan hath not acted according to\nthe dictates of justice.\" Therefore he took the Khan's talisman in\nhis hand and dashed it against a stone, and, behold, doing so, the\nblood poured out of the nose of the Khan until he died!\n\n\n\n\"That was a Khan not fit to reign!\" exclaimed the Well-and-wise-walking\nKhan.\n\nAnd as he let these words escape him the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr replied,\n\"Forgetting his health the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened his\nlips.\" And with the cry, \"To escape out of this world is good!\" he\nsped him through the air, swift out of sight.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE XIII.\n\n\nWherefore the Well-and-wise-walking Khan went forth yet again and\nfetched the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr, and as he brought him along the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr\ntold him, according to the former manner, this tale, saying,--\n\n\n\nTHE FORTUNES OF SHRIKANTHA.\n\nLong ages ago there was a Brahman's son whose name was Shrikantha\n(1). This man sold all his inheritance for three pieces of\ncloth-stuff. Lading the three pieces of cloth-stuff on to the back of\nan ass, he went his way into a far country to trade with the same (2).\n\nAs he went along he met a party of boys who had caught a mouse and\nwere tormenting it. Having tied a string about its neck, they were\ndragging it through the water. The Brahman's son could not bear to\nsee this proceeding and chid the boys, but they refused to listen to\nhis words. When he found that they would pay no heed to his words,\nhe bought the mouse of them for one of his pieces of stuff, and\ndelivered it thus out of their hands.\n\nWhen he had gone a little farther he met another party of boys who\nhad caught a young ape (3) and were tormenting it. Because it did not\nunderstand the game they were playing, they hit it with their fists,\nand when it implored them to play in a rational manner and not be so\nhasty and revengeful, they but hit it again. At the sight the Brahman\nwas moved with compassion and chid the boys, and when they would not\nlisten to him he bought it of them for another of his pieces of stuff,\nand set it at liberty.\n\nFarther along, in the neighbourhood of a city, he met another party of\nboys who had caught a young bear and were tormenting it, riding upon\nit like a horse and otherwise teasing it; and when by his chiding he\ncould not induce them to desist, he bought it of them for his last\npiece of stuff, and set it at liberty.\n\nBy this means he was left entirely without merchandize to trade\nwith, and he thought within himself, as he drove his donkey along,\nwhat he should do; and he found in his mind no better remedy than to\nsteal something out of the palace of the Khan wherewith to commence\ntrading. Having thus resolved, he tied his donkey fast in the thick\njungle and made his way with precaution into the store-chambers of\nthe Khan's palace. Here he possessed himself of a good provision of\npieces of silk-stuff, and was well nigh to have escaped with the same\nwhen the Khan's wife, espying him, raised the cry, \"This fellow hath\nstolen somewhat from the Khan's store-chamber!\"\n\nAt the cry the people all ran out and stopped Shrikantha and brought\nhim to the Khan. As he was found with the stuffs he had stolen still\nupon him, there was no doubt concerning his guilt, so the Khan ordered\na great coffer to be brought, and that he should be put inside it,\nand, with the lid nailed down, be cast into the water.\n\nThe force of the current, however, carried the coffer into the midst\nof the branches of an overhanging tree on an island, where it remained\nfixed; nevertheless, as the lid was tightly nailed down, it soon became\ndifficult to breathe inside the box. Just as Shrikantha was near to\ndie for want of air, suddenly a little chink appeared, through which\nplenty of air could enter. It was the mouse he had delivered from\nits tormentors who had brought him this timely aid (4). \"Wait a bit,\"\nsaid the mouse, as soon as he could get his mouth through the aperture,\n\"I will go fetch the ape to bring better help.\"\n\nThe ape came immediately on being summoned, and tore away at the box\nwith all his strength till he had made a hole big enough for the man to\nhave crept out; but as the box was surrounded by the water he was still\na prisoner. \"Stop a bit!\" cried the ape, when he saw this dilemma;\n\"I will go and call the bear.\"\n\nThe bear came immediately on being summoned, and dragged the coffer\non to the bank of the island, where Shrikantha alighted, and all\nthree animals waited on him, bringing him fruits and roots to eat.\n\nWhile he was living here water-bound, but abundantly supplied by\nthe mouse, the ape, and the bear with fruits to sustain life, he one\nday saw shining in a shallow part of the water a brilliant jewel as\nbig as a pigeon's egg. The ape soon fetched it at his command, and\nwhen he saw how big and lustrous it was he resolved that it must be a\ntalisman. To put its powers to the test, he wished himself removed to\nterra firma. Nor had he sooner uttered the wish than he found himself\nin the midst of a fertile plain. Having thus succeeded so well, he next\nwished that he might find on waking in the morning a flourishing city\nin the plain, and a shining palace in its midst for his residence,\nwith plenty of horses in the stable, and provisions of all kinds in\nabundance in the store-chamber; shady groves were to surround it,\nwith streams of water meandering through them.\n\nWhen he woke in the morning he found all prepared even as he had\nwished. Here, therefore, he lived in peace and prosperity, free\nfrom care.\n\nBefore many months had passed there came by that way a caravan of\nmerchants travelling home who had passed over the spot on their\noutward-bound journey.\n\n\"How is this!\" exclaimed the leader of the caravan. \"Here, where a\nfew months ago grew nothing but grass; here is there now sprung up a\ncity in all this magnificence!\" So they came and inquired concerning\nit of the Brahman's son.\n\nThen Shrikantha told them the whole story of how it had come to pass,\nand moreover showed them the talisman. Then said the leader of the\ncaravan, \"Behold! we will give thee all our camels and horses and\nmules, together with all our merchandize and our stores, only give\nus thou the talisman in exchange.\" So he gave them the talisman in\nexchange, and they went on their way. But the Brahman's son went to\nsleep in his palace, on his soft couch with silken pillows.\n\nIn the morning, when he woke, behold the couch with the silken pillows\nwas no more there, and he was lying on the ground in the island in\nthe midst of the water!\n\nThen came the mouse, the ape, and the bear to him, saying--\n\n\"What misfortune is this that hath happened to thee this second\ntime?\" So he told them the whole story of how it had come to pass. And\nthey, answering, said to him, \"Surely now it was foolish thus to part\nwith the talisman; nevertheless, maybe we three may find it.\" And they\nset out to follow the track of the travelling merchants. They were not\nlong before they came to a flourishing city with a shining palace in\nits midst, surrounded by shady groves, and streams meandering through\nthem. Here the merchants had established themselves.\n\nWhen night fell, the ape and the bear took up their post in a grove\nnear the palace, while the mouse crept within the same, till she came\nto the apartment where the leader of the caravan slept--here she crept\nin through the keyhole. The leader of the caravan lay asleep on a soft\ncouch with silken pillows. In a corner of the apartment was a heap of\nrice, in which was an arrow stuck upright, to which the talisman was\nbound, but two stout cats were chained to the spot to guard it. This\nreport the mouse brought to the ape and the bear. \"If it is as thou\nhast said,\" answered the bear, \"there is nothing to be done. Let\nus return to our master.\" \"Not so!\" interposed the ape. \"There is\nyet one means to be tried. When it is dark to-night, thou mouse,\ngo again to the caravan leader's apartment, and, having crept in\nthrough the keyhole, gnaw at the man's hair. Then the next night, to\nsave his hair, he will have the cats chained to his pillow, when the\ntalisman being unguarded, thou canst go in and fetch it away.\" Thus\nhe instructed the mouse.\n\nThe next night, therefore, the mouse crept in again through the\nkeyhole, and gnawed at the man's hair. When the man got up in the\nmorning, and saw that his hair fell off by handfuls, he said within\nhimself, \"A mouse hath done this. To-night, to save what hair remains,\nthe two cats must be chained to my pillow.\" And so it was done. When\nthe mouse came again, therefore, the cats being chained to the caravan\nleader's pillow, she could work away at the heap of rice till the arrow\nfell; then she gnawed off the string which bound the talisman to it,\nand rolled it before her all the way to the door. Arrived here, she\nwas obliged to leave it, for by no manner of means could she get it\nup to the keyhole. Full of sorrow, she came and showed this strait\nto her companions. \"If it is as thou hast said,\" answered the bear,\n\"there is nothing to be done. Let us return to our master.\"\n\n\"Not so!\" interposed the ape; \"there is yet one means to be tried. I\nwill first tie a string to the tail of the mouse, then let her go\ndown through the keyhole, and hold the talisman tightly with all her\nfour feet, and I will draw her up through the keyhole.\" This they did;\nand thus obtained possession of the talisman.\n\nThey now set out on the return journey, the ape sitting on the back\nof the bear, carrying the mouse in his ear and the talisman in his\nmouth. Travelling thus, they came to a place where there was a stream\nto cross. The bear, who all along had been fearing the other two\nanimals would tell the master how little part he had had in recovering\nthe talisman, now determined to vaunt his services. Stopping therefore\nin the midst of the stream, he said, \"Is it not my back which has\ncarried ye all--ape, mouse, and talisman--over all this ground? Is\nnot my strength great? and are not my services more than all of\nyours?\" But the mouse was asleep snugly in the ear of the ape, and\nthe ape feared to open his mouth lest he should drop the talisman;\nso there was no answer given. Then the bear was angry when he found\nthere was no answer given, and, having growled, he said, \"Since\nit pleases you not, either of you, to answer, I will even cast you\nboth into the water.\" At that the ape could not forbear exclaiming,\n\"Oh! cast us not into the water!\" And as he opened his mouth to speak,\nthe talisman dropped into the water. When he saw the talisman was lost,\nhe was full dismayed; but for fear lest the bear should drop him in\nthe water, he durst not reproach him till they were once more on land.\n\nArrived at the bank, he cried out, \"Of a surety thou art a\ncross-grained, ungainly sort of a beast; for in that thou madest me\nto answer while I had the talisman in my mouth, it has fallen into\nthe water, and is more surely lost to the master than before.\" \"If\nit is even as thou hast said,\" answered the bear, \"there is nothing\nto be done. Let us return to the master.\" But the mouse waking up at\nthe noise of the strife of words, inquired what it all meant. When\ntherefore the ape had told her how it had fallen out, and how that they\nwere now without hope of recovering the talisman, the mouse replied,\n\"Nay, but I know one means yet. Sit you here in the distance and wait,\nand let me go to work.\"\n\nSo they sat down and waited, and the mouse went back to the edge of\nthe stream. At the edge of the stream she paced up and down, crying\nout as if in great fear. At the noise of her pacing and her cries,\nthe inhabitants of the water all came up, and asked her the cause of\nher distress. \"The cause of my distress,\" replied the mouse, \"is my\ncare for you. Behold there is even now, at scarcely a night's distance,\nan army on the march which comes to destroy you all; neither can you\nescape from it, for though it marches over dry land, in a moment it\ncan plunge in the water and live there equally well.\" \"If that is so,\"\nanswered the inhabitants of the water, \"then there is no help for\nus.\" \"The means of help there is,\" replied the mouse. \"If we could\nbetween us construct a pier along the edge of the water, on which you\ncould take refuge, you would be safe, for half in and half out of the\nwater this army lives not, and could not pursue you thither.\" So the\ninhabitants of the water replied, \"Let us construct a pier.\" \"Hand\nme up then all the biggest pebbles you can find,\" said the mouse,\n\"and I will build the pier.\" So the inhabitants of the water handed up\nthe pebbles, and the mouse built of the pebbles a pier. When the pier\nwas about a span long, there came a frog bringing the talisman, saying,\n\"Bigger than this one is there no pebble here!\" So the mouse took the\ntalisman with great joy, and calling out, \"Here it is!\" brought the\nsame to the ape. The ape put the talisman once more in his mouth,\nand the mouse in his ear; and having mounted on to the back of the\nbear, they brought the talisman safely to Shrikantha (5).\n\nShrikantha not having had his three attendants to provide him with\nfruits for so many days was as one like to die; nevertheless, when\nhe saw the talisman again, he revived, and said, \"Truly the services\nare great that I have to thank you three for.\" No sooner, however,\nhad he the talisman in his hand, than all the former magnificence came\nback at a word--a more flourishing city, a more shining palace, trees\nbending under the weight of luscious fruits, and birds of beautiful\nplumage singing melodiously in the branches.\n\nThen said Shrikantha again to his talisman, \"If thou art really a good\nand clever talisman, make that to me, who have no wife, a daughter of\nthe devas should come down and live with me, and be a wife to me.\" And,\neven as he spoke, a deva maiden came down to him, surrounded with a\nhundred maidens, her companions, and was his wife, and they lived a\nlife of delights together, and a hundred sons were born to him.\"\n\n\n\n\"Of a truth that was a Brahman's son whom fortune delighted to honour,\"\nexclaimed the Well-and-wise-walking Khan. And as he had marched fast,\nand they were already far on their journey when the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr\nbegan his tale, they had reached even close to the precincts of\nthe dwelling of the great Master and Teacher N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una, when he\nspoke these words. Nevertheless, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr had time to exclaim,\n\"Excellent! Excellent!\" and to escape swift out of sight.\n\n\n\nBut the Well-and-wise-walking Khan stood before N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una.\n\nThen spoke the great Master and Teacher N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una, unto him, saying,--\n\n\"Seeing thou hast not succeeded in thine enterprise, thou hast\nnot procured the happiness of all the inhabitants of Gambudv\u00eepa,\nnor promoted the well-being of the six classes of living beings\n(6). Nevertheless, seeing thou hast exercised unexampled courage and\nperseverance, and through much terror and travail hast fetched the\nSiddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr these thirteen times, behold, the stain of blood is removed\nfrom off thee, though thou fetch him not again. Moreover, this that\nthou hast done shall turn to thy profit, for henceforth thou shalt\nnot only be called the Well-and-wise-walking Khan, but thou shalt\nexceed in good fortune and in happiness all the Khans of the earth.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE XIV.\n\n\nNotwithstanding this generous promise and bountiful remission of his\nmaster N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una, the Khan set out on his journey once again, even as\nbefore, determined this time to command his utterance and fulfil his\ntask to the end. Treading his path with patience and earnestness he\narrived at the cool grove, even to the foot of the mango-tree. There\nhe raised his axe \"White Moon,\" as though he would have felled it.\n\nThen spoke the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr, saying, \"Spare the leafy mango-tree,\nand I will come down to thee.\"\n\nSo the Khan put up his axe again and bound the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr on his back,\nto carry him off to N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una.\n\nNow as the day was long, and the air oppressive, so that they were\nwell weary, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr began to tempt the Khan to speak, saying,--\n\n\"Lighten now the journey by telling a tale of interest.\"\n\nBut how weary soever the Khan was, he pressed his lips together and\nanswered him never a word.\n\nThen the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr finding he could not make him speak, continued,\n\"If thou wilt not lighten the journey by telling a tale of interest,\ntell me whether I shall tell one to thee.\"\n\nAnd when he found that he still answered him not, he said, \"If thou\nwilt that I tell the tale, make me a sign of consent by nodding thine\nhead backwards.\"\n\nThen the Well-and-wise-walking Khan nodded his head backwards, and\nthe Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr proceeded to tell the tale in these words:--\n\n\n\nTHE AVARICIOUS BROTHER.\n\nLong ages ago there dwelt in a city of Western India two brothers.\n\nAs the elder brother had no inheritance, and made a poor living by\nselling herbs and wood, he suffered the common fate of those in needy\ncircumstances, and received no great consideration from his fellow-men.\n\nThe younger brother on the other hand was wealthy, yet gave he no\nportion of his riches to his brother.\n\nOne day he gave a great entertainment, to which he invited all his rich\nneighbours and acquaintances, but to his brother he sent no invitation.\n\nThen spoke the brother's wife to her husband, saying,--\n\n\"It were better that thou shouldst die than live thus dishonoured\nby all. Behold, now, thou art not even invited to thy brother's\nentertainment.\"\n\n\"Thy words which thou hast spoken are true,\" replied the husband. \"I\nwill even go forth and die.\"\n\nThus saying, he took up his hatchet and cord, and went out into the\nforest, passing over many mountains by the way. On the banks of a\nstream, running through the forest, he saw a number of lions and tigers\n(1), and other savage beasts, so he forbore to go near that water,\nbut continued his way till he came to the head of the stream, and here\nin the sheltering shade of a huge rock were a number of Dakinis (2),\ndancing and disporting themselves to tones of dulcet music. Presently\none of the Dakinis flew up on high out of the midst of those dancing,\nand took out of a cleft in the rock a large sack, which she brought\ndown to the grassy bank where the dancing was going on. Having spread\nit out on the ground in the presence of them all, she took a hammer\nout of it, and began hammering lustily into the bag. As she did so,\nall kinds of articles of food and drink that could be desired presented\nthemselves at the mouth of the sack. The Dakinis now left off dancing,\nand began laying out the meal; but ever as they removed one dish from\nthe mouth of the bag, another and another took its place.\n\nWhen they had well eaten and drank, the first Dakini hammered away\nagain upon the bag, and forthwith there came thereout gold and silver\ntrinkets, diadems, arm-bands, n\u00fbpuras (3), and ornaments for all\nparts of the body. With these the Dakinis decked themselves, till\nthey were covered from head to foot with pearls and precious stones,\nand their hair sparkling with a powdering of gems (4). Then they flew\naway, the first Dakini taking care to lay up the bag and hammer in\nthe cleft of the rock before taking her flight.\n\nWhen they were far, far on their way, and only showed as specks in the\ndistant sky, then the man came forth from his hiding-place, and having\nfelled several trees with his axe, bound them together one on to the\nend of the other with his cord, and by this means climbed up to the\ncleft in the rock, where the Dakini had laid up the hammer and bag,\nand brought them away.\n\nHe had no sooner got down to the ground again, than to make proof\nof his treasure even more than to satisfy his ravenous appetite, he\ntook the hammer out of the bag, and banged away with it on to the bag,\nwishing the while that it might bring him all manner of good things to\neat. All sorts of delicious viands came for him as quickly as for the\nDakinis, of which he made the best meal he had ever had in his life,\nand then hasted off home with his treasure.\n\nWhen he came back he found his wife bemoaning his supposed death.\n\n\"Weep not for me!\" he exclaimed, as soon as he was near enough for\nher to hear him; \"I have that with me which will help us to live with\nease to the end of our days.\" And without keeping her in suspense,\nhe hammered away on his bag, wishing for clothes, and household\nfurniture, and food, and every thing that could be desired.\n\nAfter this they gave up their miserable trade in wood and herbs,\nand led an easy and pleasant life.\n\nThe neighbours, however, laid their heads together and said,--\n\n\"How comes it that this fellow has thus suddenly come into such easy\ncircumstances?\"\n\nBut his brother's wife said to her husband,--\n\n\"How can thine elder brother have come by all this wealth unless he\nhath stolen of our riches?\" As she continued saying this often, the\nman believed it, and called his elder brother to him and asked him,\n\"Whence hast thou all this wealth; who hath given it to thee?\" And\nwhen he found he hesitated to answer, he added, \"Now know I that thou\nmust have stolen of my treasure; therefore, if thou tell me not how\notherwise thou hast come by it, I will even drag thee before the Khan,\nwho shall put out both thine eyes.\"\n\nWhen the elder brother had heard this threat, he answered, \"Going afar\noff to a place unknown to thee, having purposed in my mind to die,\nI found in a cleft of a rock this sack and this hammer (5).\"\n\n\"And how shall this rusty iron hammer and this dirty sack give thee\nwealth?\" again inquired his brother; and thus he pursued his inquiries\nuntil by degrees he made him tell the whole story. Nor would he be\nsatisfied till he had explained to him exactly the situation of the\nplace and the way to it. No sooner had he acquainted himself well of\nthis than, taking with him a cord and an axe, he set out to go there.\n\nWhen he arrived, he saw an immense number of deformed, ugly spirits,\nstanding against the rock in eight rows, howling piteously. As he crept\nalong to observe if there was any thing he could take of them to make\nhis fortune as his brother had done, one of them happened to look\nthat way and espied him, after which it was no more possible to escape.\n\n\"Of a surety this must be the fellow who stole our bag and\nhammer!\" exclaimed the ugly spirit. \"Let us at him and put him\nto death.\"\n\nThe Dakinis were thoroughly out of temper, and did not want any\nurging. The words were no soon uttered than, like a flock of birds,\nthey all flew round him and seized him.\n\n\"How shall we kill him?\" asked one, as she held him tight by the\nhair of his head till every single hair seemed as if forced out by\nthe roots.\n\n\"Fly with him up to the top of the rock, and then dash him down!\" cried\nsome. \"Drop him in the middle of the sea!\" cried others. \"Cut him in\npieces, and give him to the dogs!\" cried others again. But the sharp\none who had first espied him said, \"His punishment is too soon over\nwith killing him; shall we not rather set a hideous mark upon him,\nso that he shall be afraid to venture near the habitations of his kind\nfor ever?\" \"Well spoken!\" cried the Dakinis in chorus, something like\ngood-humour returning at the thought of such retribution. \"What mark\nshall we set upon him?\"\n\n\"Let us draw his nose out five ells long, and then make nine knots\nupon it,\" answered the sharp-witted Dakini.\n\nThis they did, and then the whole number of them flew away without\nleaving a trace of their flight.\n\nFully crestfallen and ashamed, the avaricious brother determined\nto wait till nightfall before he ventured home, meantime hiding\nhimself in a cave lest any should chance to pass that way and see\nhim with his knotted nose. When darkness had well closed in only he\nventured to slink home, trembling in every limb both from remaining\nfright at the life-peril he had passed through, and from fear of some\ninopportune accident having kept any neighbour abroad who might come\nacross his path.\n\nBefore he came in sight of his wife he began calling out most\npiteously,--\n\n\"Flee not from before me! I am indeed thine own, very own\nhusband. Changed as I am, I am yet indeed the very self-same. Yet a\nfew days I will endeavour to endure my misery, and then I will lay\nme down and die.\"\n\nWhen his neighbours and friends found that he came out of his house\nno more, nor invited them to him, nor gave entertainments more, they\nbegan to inquire what ailed him; but he, without letting any of them\nenter, only answered them from within, \"Woe is me! woe is me!\"\n\nNow there was in that neighbourhood a Lama (6), living in contemplation\nin a tirtha (7) on the river bank. \"I will call in the same,\" thought\nthe man, \"and take his blessing ere I die.\" So he sent to the tirtha\nand called the Lama.\n\nWhen the Lama came, the man bowed himself and asked his blessing, but\nwould by no means look up, lest he should see his knotted nose. Then\nsaid the Lama, \"Let me see what hath befallen thee; show it me.\" But\nhe answered, \"It is impossible to show it!\"\n\nThen the Lama said again, \"Let me see it; showing it will not harm\nthee.\" But when he looked up and let him see his knotted nose, the\nsight was so frightful that a shudder seized the Lama, and he ran away\nfor very horror.\" However, the man called after him and entreated him\nto come back, offering him rich presents; and when he had prevailed\non him to sit down again, he told him the whole story of what had\nbefallen him.\n\nTo his question, whether he could find any remedy, the Lama made\nanswer that he knew none; but, remembering his rich presents, he\nthought better to turn the matter over in case any useful thought\nshould present itself to his mind, and said he would consult his books.\n\n\"Till to-morrow I will wait, then, to hear if thy books have any\nremedy; and if not, then will I die.\"\n\nThe next morning the Lama came again. \"I have found one remedy,\"\nhe said, \"but there is only one. The hammer and bag of which your\nbrother is possessed could loose the knots; there is nothing else.\"\n\nHow elated so ever he had been to hear that a remedy had been found,\nby so much cast down was he when he learnt that he would have to send\nand ask the assistance of his brother.\n\n\"After all that I have said to him, I could never do this thing,\"\nhe said mournfully, \"nor would he hear me.\" But his wife would not\nleave any chance of remedying the evil untried; so she went herself\nto the elder brother and asked for the loan of the sack and hammer.\n\nKnowing how anxious his brother had been to be possessed of such a\ntreasure, however, the brother thought the alleged misfortune was\nan excuse to rob him of it; therefore he would not give it into\nher hand. Nevertheless, he went to his brother's house with it,\nand asked him what was the service he required of his sack. Then he\nwas obliged to tell him all that had befallen, and to show him his\nknotted nose. \"But,\" said he, \"if with thy hammer thou will but loose\nthe knots, behold the half of all I have shall be thine.\"\n\nHis brother accepted the terms; but not trusting to the promise of one\nso avaricious, he stipulated to have the terms put in order under hand\nand seal. When this was done he set to work immediately to swing his\nhammer, and let it touch one by one the knots in his brother's nose,\nsaying as he did so,--\n\n\"May the knots which the eight rows of evil Dakinis made so strong\nbe loosed.\"\n\nAnd with each touch and invocation the knots began to disappear one\nafter the other.\n\nBut his wife began to regret the loss of half their wealth, and she\ndetermined on a scheme to save it, and yet that her husband should\nbe cured. \"If,\" said she, \"I stop him before he has undone the last\nknot he cannot claim the reward, because he will not have removed all\nthe knots, and it will be a strange matter if I find not the means\nof obtaining the hammer long enough to remedy one knot myself.\" As\nshe reasoned thus he had loosed the eighth knot.\n\n\"Stop!\" she cried. \"That will do now. For one knot we will not make\nmuch ado. He can bear as much disfigurement as that.\"\n\nThen the elder brother was grieved because they had broken the\ncontract, and went his way carrying the sack, and with the hammer stuck\nin his girdle. As he went, the younger brother's wife went stealthily\nbehind him, and when he had just reached his own door, she sprang upon\nhim, and snatched the hammer from out his girdle. He turned to follow\nher, but she had already reached her own house before he came up with\nher, and entering closed the door against him: then in triumph over\nher success, she proceeded to attempt loosing the ninth knot. Only\nswinging it as she had seen her brother-in-law do, and not knowing how\nto temper the force so that it should only just have touched the nose,\nthe blow carried with it so much moment that the hammer went through\nthe man's skull, even to his brain, so that he fell down and died.\n\nBy this means, not the half, but the whole of his possessions passed\nto his elder brother.\n\n\n\n\"If the man was avaricious, the woman was doubly avaricious,\" here\nexclaimed the Khan, \"and by straining to grasp too much, she lost all.\"\n\n\"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened\nhis lips,\" cried the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr. And with the cry, \"To escape out of\nthis world is good,\" he sped him through the air once again, swift\nout of sight.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE XV.\n\n\nWhen therefore the Well-and-wise-walking Khan found that he had\nonce more failed in the end and object of his mission, he once more\ntook the way of the shady grove, and once more in the same fashion\nas before he took the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr captive in his sack. As he bore\nhim along weary with the journey through the desert country, the\nSiddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr asked if he would not tell a tale to enliven the way,\nand when he steadfastly held his tongue, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr bid him,\nif he would that he should tell one, but give a token of nodding his\nhead backwards, without opening his lips.\n\nThen he nodded his head backwards, and the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr told this tale,\nsaying,--\n\n\n\nTHE USE OF MAGIC LANGUAGE.\n\nLong ages ago there lived in Western India a King who had a very\nclever son. In order to make the best advantage of his understanding,\nand to fit him in every way to become an accomplished sovereign,\nthe King sent him into the Diamond-kingdom (1), that he might be\nthoroughly instructed in all kinds of knowledge. He was accompanied\nin his journey by the son of the king's chief minister, who was also\nto share his studies, but who was as dull as he was intelligent. On\ntheir arrival in the Diamond-kingdom, they gave each of them the sum\nwith which they had been provided by their parents to two Lamas to\nconduct their education, and spent twelve years with them.\n\nAt the end of the twelve years the minister's son proposed to the\nking's son that they should now return home, and as the Lamas allowed\nthat the king's son had made such progress in the five kinds of\nknowledge that there was nothing more he could learn, he agreed to\nthe proposal, and they set out on their homeward way.\n\nAll went well at first; but one day passed, and then another, and yet\nanother, that they came to no source of water, and being parched nigh\nunto death with thirst, the minister's son would have laid him down\nto die. As he stood hesitating about going on, a crow passed and made\nhis cry of \"ikerek.\" The prince now encouraged his companion, saying,\n\"Come but a little way farther, and we shall find water.\"\n\n\"Nay, you deceive me not like an infant of days,\" answered the\nminister's son. \"How shall we find water? Have we not laboured over\nthe journey these three days, and found none; neither shall we find\nit now? Why should we add to this death of thirst the pangs of useless\nfatigue also?\"\n\nBut the king's son said again, \"Nay, but of a certainty we shall now\nfind it.\"\n\nAnd when he asked, \"How knowest thou this of a certainty?\" he replied,\n\"I heard yon crow cry as he passed, 'Go forward five hundred paces\nin a southerly direction, and you will come to a source of pure,\nbright fresh water.'\"\n\nThe king's son spoke with so much certainty that he had not strength\nto resist him; and so they went on five hundred paces farther in a\nsoutherly direction, and then they indeed came upon a pure, bright\nspring of water, where they sat down, and drank, and refreshed\nthemselves.\n\nAs they sat there, the minister's son was moved with jealousy, for,\nthought he within himself, in every art this prince has exceeded me,\nand when we return to our own country, all shall see how superior\nhe is to me in every kind of attainment. Then he said aloud to the\nking's son,--\n\n\"If we keep along this road, which leads over the level plain, where\nwe can be seen ever so far off, may be robbers will see us, and,\ncoming upon us, will slay us. Shall we not rather take the path which\nleads over the mountain, where the trees will hide us, and pass the\nnight under cover of the wood?\" And this he said in order to lead the\nprince into the forest, that he might slay him there unperceived. But\nthe prince, who had no evil suspicion, willingly agreed to his words,\nand they took the path of the mountain. When they had well entered\nthe thick wood, the minister's son fell upon the prince from behind,\nand slew him. The prince in dying said nothing but the one word,\n\"Abaraschika (2).\"\n\nAs soon as he had well hidden the body, the minister's son continued\non his way.\n\nAs he came near the city, the King went out to greet him, accompanied\nby all his ministers, and followed by much people; but when he found\nthat his son was not there, he fell into great anxiety, and eagerly\ninquired after him. \"Thy son,\" answered the minister's son, \"died on\nthe journey.\"\n\nAt these words, the King burst into an agony of grief, crying,\n\"Alas, my son! mine only son! Without thee, what shall all my royal\npower and state, what shall all my hundred cities, profit me?\" Amid\nthese bitter cries he made his way back to the palace. As he dwelt\non his grief, the thought came to him, \"Shall not my son when dying\nat least have left some word expressive of his last thoughts and\nwishes?\" Then he sent and inquired this thing of his companion,\nto which, the minister's son made answer, \"Thy son was overtaken\nwith a quick and sudden malady, and as he breathed out his life,\nhe had only time to utter the single word, Abaraschika.\"\n\nHearing this the King was fully persuaded the word must have some deep\nand hidden meaning; but as he was unable to think it out, he summoned\nall the seers, soothsayers, magicians, and astrologers (3) of his\nkingdom, and inquired of them what this same word Abaraschika could\nmean. There was not, however, one of them all that could help him to\nthe meaning. Then said the King, \"The last word that my son uttered,\neven mine only son, this is dear to me. There is no doubt that it is a\nword in which by all the arts that he had studied and acquired he knew\nhow to express much, though he had not time to utter many words. Ye,\ntherefore, who are also learned in cunning arts ought to be able to\ntell the interpretation of the same, but if not, then of what use\nare ye? It were better that ye were dead from off the face of the\nearth. Wherefore, I give you the space of seven days to search in\nall your writings and to exercise all your arts, and if at the end\nof seven days ye are none of you able to tell me the interpretation,\nthen shall I deliver you over to death.\"\n\nWith that he commanded that they should be all secured in an exceeding\nhigh fortress for the space of seven days, and well watched that they\nmight not escape.\n\nThe seven days passed away, and not one of them was at all nearer\ntelling the interpretation of Abaraschika than on the first day. \"Of\na certainty we shall all be put to death to-morrow,\" was repeated all\nthrough the place, and some cried to the devas and some sat still\nand wept, speaking only of the relations and friends they would\nleave behind.\n\nMeantime, a student of an inferior sort, who waited on the others and\nlearned between whiles, had contrived to escape, not being under such\nstrict guard as his more important brethren. At night-time he took\nshelter under a leafy tree. As he lay there a bird and its young\nones came to roost on the boughs above him. One of the young ones\ninstead of going to sleep went on complaining through the night, \"I'm\nso hungry! I'm so hungry!\" At last the old bird began to console it,\nsaying, \"Cry not, my son; for to-morrow there will be plenty of food.\"\n\n\"And why should there be more food to-morrow than to-day?\" asked the\nyoung bird.\n\n\"Because to-morrow,\" answered the mother, \"the Khan has made\npreparations to put a thousand men to death. That will be a feast\nindeed!\"\n\n\"And why should he put so many men to death?\" persisted the young bird.\n\n\"Because,\" interposed the father, \"though they are all wise men,\nnot one of them can tell him such a simple thing as the meaning of\nthe word Abaraschika.\"\n\n\"What does it mean, then?\" inquired the young bird.\n\n\"The meaning of the word is this: 'This, my bosom friend, hath enticed\nme into a thick grove, and there, wounding me with a sharp knife,\nhath taken away my life, and is even now preparing to cut off my\nhead.'\" This the old bird told to his young.\n\nThe young student, however, hearing these words waited to hear no\nmore, but set off at his best speed towards the tower where all his\ncompanions were confined. About daybreak he reached the gates, and\nmade his way in all haste in to them. In the midst of their weeping\nand lamenting over the morning which they reckoned that of their day\nof death, he cried out,--\n\n\"Weep no more! I have discovered the meaning of the word.\"\n\nJust then the Khan's guard came to conduct them to the Khan for\nexamination preparatory to their being given over to execution. Here\nthe young student declared to the Khan the meaning of the word\nAbaraschika. Having heard which the Khan dismissed them all with rich\npresents, but privately bid them declare to no man the meaning of the\nword. Then he sent for the minister's son, and without giving him any\nhint of his intention, bid him go before him and show him where lay\nthe bones of his son, which when he had seen and built a tomb over\nthem, he ordered the minister and his son both to be put to death.\n\n\n\n\"That Khan's son, so well versed in the five kinds of knowledge,\nwould have been an honour and ornament to his kingdom, had he not\nbeen thus untimely cut off,\" exclaimed the Khan.\n\nAnd as he let these words escape him, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr replied,\n\"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened\nhis lips.\" And with the cry, \"To escape out of this world is good!\" he\nsped him through the air, swift out of sight.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE XVI.\n\n\nWhen therefore the Well-and-wise-walking Khan saw that he had again\nfailed in the end and object of his journey, he once more took the\nway of the cool grove; and having taken the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr captive as\nbefore in his bag, in which there was place for a hundred, and made\nfast the mouth of the same with his cord woven of a hundred threads\nof different colours, he bore him along to present to his Master and\nTeacher N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una.\n\nAnd as they went the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr asked him to beguile the way with a\ntale, or else give the signal that he should tell one. And when the\nWell-and-wise-walking Khan had given the signal that the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr\nshould tell one, he began after this wise, saying,--\n\n\n\nTHE WIFE WHO LOVED BUTTER.\n\nLong ages ago there dwelt in the neighbourhood of a city in the north\npart of India called Taban-Minggan (1) a man and his wife who had\nno children, and nine cows (2) for all possessions. As the man was\nvery fond of meat he used to kill all the calves as soon as they were\nborn that he might eat them, but the wife cared only for butter. One\nday when there were no more calves the man took it into his head to\nslaughter one of the cows; \"What does it signify,\" said he to himself,\n\"whether there are nine or eight?\" So he killed one of the cows and ate\nit. When the meat of this cow was all at an end, he said to himself,\n\"What does it matter whether there are eight cows or seven?\" And with\nthat he slaughtered another cow and ate it. When the meat of this cow\nhad come to an end, he said within himself again, \"What does it matter\nwhether there are seven cows or six?\" and with that he slaughtered\nanother cow and ate it. This he continued doing till there was one\nonly cow left. At last, when the wife saw that there was but one only\ncow left, she could refrain herself no longer. Determined to save this\nonly cow from being slaughtered, she never let it out of her sight,\nbut wherever she went led it after her by a string.\n\nOne day, however, when the man had been drinking well of rice-brandy,\nand was sound asleep, the wife having to go out to fetch water,\nshe thought it would be safe to leave the cow behind this once; but\nscarcely was she gone out when the man woke up, and, seeing the cow\nleft alone behind, slaughtered it to eat.\n\nWhen the woman came back and found the last remaining cow was killed,\nshe lifted up her voice and wept, saying, \"What is there now left to\nme wherewithal to support life, seeing that the last and only cow that\nremained to us is killed.\" As she said these words, she turned her in\nanger and went away, and as she went the man cut off one of the teats\nof the cow and threw it after her. The woman picked up the teat and\ntook it along with her; but she went along still crying till she came\nto a cave in a mountain side, where she took shelter. There she cast\nherself down on the ground, addressing herself in earnest prayer to\nthe Three Precious Treasures (3) and the Ruler of Heaven and Earth,\nsaying, \"Now that my old man has brought me to the last extremity,\ndepriving me of all that I had to support life, grant now, ye Three\nPrecious Treasures, and thou Ruler of Heaven and Earth, that I may\nhave in some way that which is needful to support life!\" Thus she\nprayed. Also, she flung from her the teat of the cow which she had\nin her hand, and behold! it clove to the side of the cave, and when\nshe would have removed it, it would no more be removed, but milk ran\ntherefrom as from the living cow. And the milk thereof was good for\nmaking butter, which her soul loved.\n\nThus she lived in the cave, and was provided with all she desired to\nsupport life. One day it befell that the memory of her husband coming\nover her, she said within herself, \"Perhaps, now that the last cow\nis slaughtered and eaten, my old man may be suffering hunger; who\nknows!\" Thus musing, she filled a sheep's paunch (4) with butter, and\nwent her way to the place where her husband lived, and having climbed\non to the roof, she looked down upon him through the smoke-hole (5).\n\nHe sat there in his usual place, but nothing was set before him to eat\nsaving only a pan of ashes, which he was dividing with a spoon, saying\nthe while, \"This is my portion for to-day;\" and \"That much I reserve\nfor the portion of to-morrow.\" Seeing this, the wife threw her paunch\nof butter hastily through the roof, and then went back to her cave.\n\nThen thought the husband within himself, \"Who is there in heaven\nor earth who would have brought me this butter-paunch but my very\nwife? who surely has said within herself, 'Perhaps, now that the last\ncow is slaughtered, my old man is suffering hunger.'\" And as every\nnight she thus supplied him with a butter-paunch, he got up at last\nand followed her by the track of her feet on the snow till he came to\nthe cave where she dwelt. Nevertheless, seeing the teat cleaving to\nthe side of the cave, he could not resist cutting it off to eat the\nmeat thereof. Then he took to him all the store of butter the woman\nhad laid up and returned home; but the wife, finding her place of\nrefuge was known to him, and that he had taken all her store, left\nthe cave and wandered on farther.\n\nPresently she came to a vast meadow well watered by streams, and herds\nof hinds grazing amid the grass; nor did they flee at her approach,\nso that she could milk them at will, and once more she could make\nbutter as much as ever she would.\n\nOne day it befell that, the memory of her husband coming over her,\nshe said within herself, \"Perhaps, now that he will have exhausted\nall the store of cow-milk-butter, my old man may be suffering hunger;\nwho knows!\" So she took a sheep's paunch of the butter made of hind's\nmilk and went to the place where her husband lived. As she looked down\nupon him through the smoke-hole in the roof, she found him once more\nengaged sparingly dividing his portions of ashes. So she threw the\nbutter-paunch to him through the smoke-hole and went her way. When\nshe had done this several days, her husband rose and followed her by\nher track on the snow till he came to where the herd of hinds were\ngrazing. But when he saw so many hinds, he could not resist satisfying\nhis love of meat; only when he had slaughtered many of the hinds,\nthese said one to another, \"If we remain here, of a surety we shall\nall be put to death;\" therefore they arose in the night and betook them\nafar, far off, whither neither the man nor his wife could follow them.\n\nWhen the wife found her place of refuge was known to her husband,\nand that he had dispersed her herd of hinds, she left the grassy\nmeadow and wandered on farther.\n\nPresently, a storm coming on, she took shelter in a hole in a rock\nwhere straw was littered down; so she laid herself to sleep amid the\nstraw. But the hole was the den of a company of lions, tigers, and\nbears, and all manner of wild beasts; but they had a hare for watchman\nat the opening of the hole. At night, therefore, they all came home\nand laid down, but they perceived not the woman in the straw; only\nin the night, the woman happening to move, a straw tickled the nose\nof the hare. Then said the hare to a tiger who lay near him, \"What\nwas that?\" But the tiger said, \"We will examine into the matter when\nthe morning light breaks.\" When the morning light broke, therefore,\nthey turned up all the straw and found the woman lying. When the\ntiger and the other beasts saw the woman lying in their straw, they\nwere exceeding wroth, and would have torn her in pieces. But the hare\nsaid, \"What good will it do you to tear the woman in pieces? Women are\nfaithful and vigilant animals; give her now to me, and I will make her\nhelp me watch the cave.\" So they gave her to the hare, and the hare\nbade her keep strict watch over the cave, and by no means let any one\nof any sort enter it; and he treated her well and gave her plenty of\ngame to eat, which the wild beasts brought home to their lair.\n\nThus she lived in the den of the wild beasts and did the bidding\nof the hare. One day, however, it befell that, the memory of her\nhusband coming over her, she said within herself, \"Perhaps, now that\nthe hinds are all dispersed, my old man may be suffering hunger;\nwho knows!\" So she took with her a good provision of game, of which\nthe wild beasts brought in abundance, and went to the place where\nher husband lived. He sat as before, dividing his portions of ashes;\nso she threw the game she had brought down through the smoke-hole.\n\nWhen she had thus provisioned him many days, he said within himself,\n\"Who is there in heaven or earth who should thus provide for me,\nbut only my loving wife?\" So the next night he rose up and tracked\nher by the snow till he came to the den of the wild beasts.\n\nWhen the wife saw him, she cried, \"Wherefore camest thou hither? This\nis even a wild beasts' lair. Behold, seeing thee they will tear thee\nin pieces!\" But the man would not listen to her word, answering, \"If\nthey have not torn thee in pieces, neither will they tear me.\" Then,\nwhen she found that he would not escape, she took him and hid him in\nthe straw. At night, when the wild beasts came home, the hare said\nto the tiger, \"Of a certainty I perceive the scent of some creature\nwhich was not here before;\" and the tiger answered, \"When morning\nbreaks we will examine into the matter.\" Accordingly, when morning\nbroke they looked over the place, and there in the straw they found\nthe woman's husband. When they saw the man they were all exceedingly\nwroth, nor could the hare by any means restrain them that they should\nnot tear them both in pieces. \"For,\" said they, \"if of one comes two,\nof two will come four, and of four will come sixteen, and in the\nend we shall be outnumbered and destroyed, and our place taken from\nus.\" So they tore them both in pieces, both the wife and her husband.\n\n\n\n\"That woman fell a sacrifice to her devotion to her husband, who\ndeserved it not at her hand!\" exclaimed the Khan.\n\nAnd as he let these words escape him, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr replied,\n\"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened\nhis lips.\" And with the cry, \"To escape out of this world is good!\" he\nsped him through the air, swift out of sight.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE XVII.\n\n\nWherefore the Well-and-wise-walking Khan once more took the way of\nthe cool grove, and brought thence bound the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr, who by the\nway told him this story, saying--,\n\n\n\nTHE SIMPLE HUSBAND AND THE PRUDENT WIFE.\n\nIn the southern part of India lived a man who had a very large fortune\nand a very notable wife, but possessing little sense or capacity\nhimself, nor sufficient understanding to think of trading with his\nfortune. One day a caravan of merchants came by, with whom the wife\nmade some exchanges of merchandize while the husband stood by and\nlooked on. When they were gone, the wife said to him, \"Why should\nnot you also go forth and trade even as these merchants trade?\" And\nhe willing to do her a pleasure made answer, \"Give me wherewithal to\ntrade, and I will see what I can do.\"\n\n\"This is but reasonable,\" thought the wife. \"For how shall he trade\nexcept he have some sort of merchandize to trade withal.\" So she made\nready for him an ass to ride, and a camel's burden of rice to trade\nwith, and arms to defend him from robbers, and provisions to sustain\nhim by the way. Thus she sent him forth.\n\nOn he rode till he came to the sea-shore, and as he could go no farther\nhe laid him down here at the foot of a high cliff to sleep. Just where\nhe lay was the entrance to a cave which he failed to discover. Towards\nevening a caravan of merchants travelling by, took shelter in this\ncave, leaving a bugle lying on the ground near the entrance, that\nin case of an attack of robbers the first who heard their approach\nmight warn the others.\n\nThe man's face being turned, as he lay also towards the entrance of\nthe cave, came very near the mouthpiece of the bugle. About the middle\nof the night when he was sleeping very heavily he began also to snore,\nand his breath accidentally entering the bugle gave forth so powerful\na note (1), that it woke all the merchants together. \"Who sounded\nthe bugle?\" asked each. \"Not I,\" \"Nor I,\" \"Nor I,\" answered one and\nall. \"Then it must be the thieves themselves who did it in defiance,\"\nsaid one. \"They must be in strong force thus to defy us!\" answered\nanother. \"We had better therefore make good our escape before they\nreally attack us,\" cried all. And without waiting to look after their\ngoods, they all ran off for the dear life without so much as looking\nbehind them.\n\nIn the morning, finding the merchants did not return, the simple\nman put together all the merchandize they had left behind them and\nreturned home with it. All the neighbours ran out to see him pass\nwith his train of mules and cried aloud, \"Only see what a clever\ntrader! Only see how fortune has prospered him!\"\n\nQuite proud of his success and not considering how little merit he had\nhad in the matter, he said, \"To-morrow I will go out hunting!\" But his\nwife knowing he had not capacity to have come by all the merchandize\nexcept through some lucky chance, and thinking some equally strange\nadventure might befall him when out hunting, determined to be even\nwith him and to know all that might come to pass.\n\nAccordingly the next day she provided him with a horse and dog, and\nbow and arrows, and provisions for the way. Only as he went forth, she\nsaid, \"Beware, a stronger than thou fall not upon thee!\" But he, puffed\nup by his yesterday's success, answered her, \"Never fear! There is none\ncan stand against me.\" And she, smiling to see him thus highminded,\nmade reply, \"Nevertheless, the horseman Surja-Bagatur (2) is terrible\nto deal with. Shouldst thou meet him, stand aside and engage him not,\nfor surely he would slay thee.\" Thus she warned him. But he mounted\nhis horse and rode away, crying, \"Him I fear no more than the rest!\"\n\nAs soon as she had seen him start the wife dressed herself in man's\nclothes, and mounting a swift horse (3) she rode round till she came\nby a different path to the same place as her husband. Seeing him\ntrot across a vast open plain she bore down right upon him at full\ngallop. The man, too much afraid of so bold a rider to recognize that\nit was his wife, turned him and fled from before her. Soon overtaking\nhim, however, she challenged him to fight, at the same time drawing\nher sword. \"Slay me not!\" exclaimed the simple man, slipping off\nhis horse, \"Slay me not, most mighty rider, Surja-Bagatur! Take now\nmy horse and mine arms, and all that I have. Leave me only my life,\nmost mighty Surja-Bagatur!\" So his wife took the horse and the arms,\nand all that he had and rode home.\n\nAt night the simple man came limping home footsore and in sorry\nplight. \"Where is the horse and the arms?\" inquired his wife as she\nsaw him arrive on foot.\n\n\"To-day I encountered the mighty rider, Surja-Bagatur, and having\nchallenged him to fight,\" answered he, \"I overcame him and humbled\nhim utterly. Only that the wrath of the hero at what I had done might\nnot be visited on us, I propitiated him by making him an offering of\nthe horse and the arms and all that I had.\"\n\nSo the woman prepared roasted corn and set it before him; and when\nhe had well eaten she said to him, \"Tell me now, what manner of man\nis the hero Surja-Bagatur, and to what is he like (4)?\"\n\nAnd the simple man made answer, \"But that he wore never a beard,\neven such a man would he have been as thy father.\"\n\nAnd the wife laughed to herself, but told him nothing of all she\nhad done.\n\n\n\n\"That was a prudent woman, who humbled not her husband by triumphing\nover him!\" exclaimed the Khan.\n\nAnd as he let these words escape him, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr replied,\n\"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened\nhis lips.\" And with the cry, \"To escape out of this world is good!\" he\nsped him through the air, swift out of sight.\n\n\n\nOf the adventures of the Well-and-wise-walking Khan the seventeenth\nchapter, of the Simple Husband and the Prudent Wife.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE XVIII.\n\n\nWhen therefore the Well-and-wise-walking Khan saw that the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr\nhad again made good his escape, he set out and came to the cool grove,\nand took him captive and brought him, bound in his bag. And by the\nway the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr told this tale, saying,--\n\n\n\nHOW SHANGGASBA BURIED HIS FATHER.\n\nLong ages ago, there lived in a city of Northern India a father and\nson. Both bore the same name, and a strangely inappropriate name it\nwas. Though they were the poorest of men without any thing in the\nworld to call their own, and without even possessing the knowledge\nof any trade or handicraft whereby to make a livelihood to support\nthem at ease, they were yet called by the name of Shanggasba, that is\n\"Renowned possessor of treasure (1).\"\n\nAs I have already said, they knew no trade or handicraft; but to\nearn a scanty means of subsistence to keep body and soul together,\nthey used to lead a wandering sort of life, gathering and hawking wood.\n\nOne day as they were coming down the steep side of a mountain forest,\nworn and footsore, bending under the heavy burden of wood on their\nbacks, Shanggasba, the father, suddenly hastened his tired, tottering\nsteps, and, leading the way through the thickly-meeting branches to\na little clear space of level ground, where the grass grew green and\nbright, called to his son to come after him with more of animation\nin his voice than he had shown for many a weary day.\n\nShanggasba, the son, curious enough to know what stirred his father's\nmind, and glad indeed at the least indication of any glimpse of a new\ninterest in life, increased his pace too, and soon both were sitting\non the green grass with their bundles of wood laid beside them.\n\n\"Listen, my son!\" said Shanggasba, the father, \"to what I have here\nto impart to thee, and forget not my instructions.\"\n\n\"Just as this spot of sward, on which we are now seated, is bared of\nthe rich growth of trees covering the thicket all around it, so are my\nfortunes now barren compared with the opulence and power our ancestor\nShanggasba, 'Renowned possessor of treasure,' enjoyed. Know, moreover,\nthat it was just on this very spot that he lived in the midst of his\npower and glory. Therefore now that our wanderings have brought us\nhither, I lay this charge upon thee that when I die thou bring hither\nmy bones, and lay them under the ground in this place. And so doing,\nthou too shalt enjoy fulness of might and magnificence like to the\nportion of a king's son. For it was because my father's bones were\nlaid to rest in a poor, mean, and shameful place, that I have been\nbrought to this state of destitution in which we now exist. But thou,\nif thou keep this my word, doubt not but that thou also shalt become\na renowned possessor of treasure.\"\n\nThus spoke Shanggasba, the father; and then, lifting their faggots\non to their shoulder, they journeyed on again as before.\n\nNot long after the day that they had held this discourse, Shanggasba,\nthe father, was taken grievously ill, so that the son had to go out\nalone to gather wood, and it so befell that when he returned home again\nthe father was already dead. So remembering his father's admonition,\nhe laded his bones upon his back, and carried them out to burial in\nthe cleared spot in the forest, as his father had said.\n\nBut when he looked that the great wealth and honour of which his\nfather had spoken should have fallen to his lot, he was disappointed\nto find that he remained as poor as before. Then, because he was\nweary of the life of a woodman, he went into the city, and bought a\nhand-loom and yarn, and set himself to weave linen cloths which he\nhawked about from place to place.\n\nNow, one day, as he was journeying back from a town where he had been\nselling his cloths, his way brought him through the forest where\nhis father lay buried. So he tarried a while at the place and sat\ndown to his weaving, and as he sat a lark came and perched on the\nloom. With his weaving-stick he gave the lark a blow and killed it,\nand then roasted and ate it.\n\nBut as he ate it he mused, \"Of a certainty the words of my father have\nfailed, which he spoke, saying, 'If thou bury my bones in this place\nthou shalt enjoy fulness of might and magnificence.' And because this\nweaving brings me a more miserable profit even than hawking wood,\nI will arise now and go and sue for the hand of the daughter of the\nKing of India, and become his son-in-law.\"\n\nHaving taken this resolution, he burnt his hand-loom, and set out on\nhis journey.\n\nNow it so happened that just at this time the Princess, daughter of the\nKing of India, having been absent for a long time from the capital,\ngreat festivities of thanksgiving were being celebrated in gratitude\nfor her return in safety, as Shanggasba arrived there; and notably,\non a high hill, before the image of a Garuda-bird (2), the king of\nbirds, Vishnu's bearer, all decked with choice silk rich in colour.\n\nShanggasba arrived, fainting from hunger, for the journey had been\nlong, and he had nothing to eat by the way, having no money to buy\nfood, but now he saw things were beginning to go well with him, for\nwhen he saw the festival he knew there would be an offering of baling\ncakes of rice-flour before the garuda-bird, and he already saw them\nin imagination surrounded with the yellow flames of the sacrifice.\n\nAs soon as he approached the place therefore he climbed up the\nhigh hill, and satisfied his hunger with the baling; and then, as a\nprovision for the future, he took down the costly silk stuffs with\nwhich the garuda-bird was adorned and hid them in his boots.\n\nHis hunger thus appeased, he made his way to the King's palace,\nwhere he called out lustily to the porter in a tone of authority,\n\"Open the gate for me!\"\n\nBut the porter, when he saw what manner of man it was summoned him,\nwould pay no heed to his words, but rather chid him and bid him\nbe silent.\n\nThen Shanggasba, when he found the porter would pay no heed to his\nwords, but rather bid him be silent, blew a note on the great princely\ntrumpet, which was only sounded for promulgating the King's decrees.\n\nThis the King heard, who immediately sent for the porter, and inquired\nof him who had dared to sound the great princely trumpet. To whom\nthe porter made answer,--\n\n\"Behold now, O King, there stands without at the gate a vagabond\ncalling on me to admit him because he has a communication to make to\nthe King.\"\n\n\"The fellow is bold; let him be brought in,\" replied the King. So\nthey brought Shanggasba before the King's majesty.\n\n\"What seekest thou of me?\" inquired the King. And Shanggasba, nothing\nabashed, answered plainly--\n\n\"To sue for the hand of the Princess am I come, and to be the King's\nson-in-law.\"\n\nThe ministers of state, who stood round about the King, when they\nheard these words, were filled with indignation, and counselled the\nKing that he should put him to death. But the King, tickled in his\nfancy with the man's daring, answered,--\n\n\"Nay, let us not put him to death. He can do us no harm. A beggar may\nsue for a king's daughter, and a king may choose a beggar's daughter,\nout of that no harm can come,\" and he ordered that he should be taken\ncare of in the palace, and not let to go forth.\n\nNow all this was told to the Queen, who took a very different view of\nthe thing from the King's. And coming to him in fury and indignation,\nshe cried out,--\n\n\"It is not good for such a man to live. He must be already deprived\nof his senses; let him die the death!\"\n\nBut the King gave for all answer, \"The thing is not of that import\nthat he should die for it.\"\n\nThe Princess also heard of it; and she too came to complain to the\nKing that he should cause such a man to be kept in the palace; but\nbefore she could open her complaint, the King, joking, said to her,--\n\n\"Such and such a man is come to sue for thy hand; and I am about to\ngive thee to him.\"\n\nBut she answered, \"This shall never be; surely the King hath spoken\nthis thing in jest. Shall a princess now marry a beggar?\"\n\n\"If thou wilt not have him, what manner of man wouldst thou\nmarry?\" asked the King.\n\n\"A man who has gold and precious things enough that he should carry\nsilk stuff (3) in his boots, such a one would I marry, and not a\nwayfarer and a beggar,\" answered the Princess.\n\nWhen the people heard that, they went and pulled off Shanggasba's\nboots, and when they found in them the pieces of silk he had taken\nfrom the image of the garuda-bird, they all marvelled, and said never\na word more.\n\nBut the King thought thereupon, and said, \"This one is not after the\nmanner of common men.\" And he gave orders that he should be lodged\nin the palace.\n\nThe Queen, however, was more and more dismayed when she saw the token,\nand thus she reasoned, \"If the man is here entertained after this\nmanner, and if he has means thus to gain over to him the mind of the\nKing, who shall say but that he may yet contrive to carry his point,\nand to marry my daughter?\" And as she found she prevailed nothing\nwith the King by argument, she said, \"I must devise some means of\nsubtlety to be rid of him.\" Then she had the man called into her,\nand inquired of him thus,--\n\n\"Upon what terms comest thou hither to sue for the hand of my\ndaughter? Tell me, now, hast thou great treasures to endow her with as\nthy name would import, or wilt thou win thy right to pay court to her\nby thy valour and bravery?\" And this she said, for she thought within\nherself, of a surety now the man is so poor he can offer no dowry,\nand so he needs must elect to win her by the might of his bravery,\nwhich if he do I shall know how to over-match his strength, and show\nhe is but a mean-spirited wretch.\n\nBut Shanggasba made answer, \"Of a truth, though I be called 'Renowned\npossessor of treasure,' no treasure have I to endow her with; but\nlet some task be appointed me by the King and Queen, and I will win\nher hand by my valour.\"\n\nThe Queen was glad when she heard this answer, for she said,\n\"Now I have in my hands the means to be rid of him.\" At this time,\nwhile they were yet speaking, it happened that a Prince of the\nUnbelievers advanced to the borders of the kingdom to make war upon\nthe King. Therefore the Queen said to Shanggasba,--\n\n\"Behold thine affair! Go out now against the enemy, and if thou canst\ndrive back his hordes thou shalt marry our daughter, and become the\nKing's son-in-law.\n\n\"Even so let it be!\" answered Shanggasba. \"Only let there be given\nto me a good horse and armour, and a bow and arrows.\"\n\nAll this the Queen gave him, and good wine to boot, and appointed\nan army in brave array to serve under him. With these he rode out to\nencounter the enemy.\n\nThey had hardly got out of sight of the city, however, when the\ncaptain of the army rode up to him and said, \"We are not soldiers to\nfight under command of a beggar: ride thou forth alone.\"\n\nSo they went their way, and he rode on alone. He had no sooner come\nto the borders of the forest, however, where the ground was rough and\nuneven, than he found he could in no wise govern his charger, and after\npulling at the reins for a long time in vain, the beast dashed with him\nfuriously into the thicket. \"What can I do now?\" mourned Shanggasba to\nhimself as, encumbered by the unwonted weight of his armour, he made\nfruitless efforts to extricate himself from the interlacing branches;\n\"surely death hath overtaken me!\" And even as he spoke the enemy's\narmy appeared riding down towards him. Nevertheless, catching hold\nof the overhanging bows of a tree, by which to save himself from the\nplungings of the horse, and as the soil was loose and the movement of\nthe steed impetuous, as he clung to the tree the roots were set free\nby his struggles, and rebounding in the face of the advancing enemy,\nlaid many of his riders low in the dust.\n\nThe prince who commanded them when he saw this, exclaimed, \"This one\ncannot be after the manner of common men. Is he not rather one of the\nheroes making trial of his prowess who has assumed this outward form?\"\n\nAnd a great panic seized them all, so that they turned and fled from\nbefore him, riding each other down in the confusion, and casting away\ntheir weapons and their armour.\n\nAs soon as they were well out of sight, and only the clouds of dust\nwhirling round behind them, Shanggasba rose from the ground where he\nhad fallen in his fear, and catching by the bridle one of the horses\nwhose rider had been thrown, laded on to him all that he could carry\nof the spoil with which the way was strewn, and brought it up to the\nKing as the proof and trophy of his victory.\n\nThe King was well pleased to have so valiant a son-in-law,\nand commended him and promised him the hand of the Princess in\nmarriage. But the Queen, though her first scheme for delivering her\ndaughter had failed, was not slow to devise another, and she said,\n\"It is not enough that he should be valiant in the field, but a\nmighty hunter must he also be.\" And thus she said to Shanggasba,\n\"Wilt thou also give proof of thy might in hunting?\"\n\nAnd Shanggasba made answer, \"Wherein shall I show my might in hunting?\"\n\nAnd the Queen said, \"Behold now, there is in our mountains a great fox,\nnine spans in length, the fur of whose back is striped with stripes;\nhim shalt thou kill and bring his skin hither to me, if thou wouldst\nhave the hand of the Princess and become the King's son-in-law.\"\n\n\"Even so let it be,\" replied Shanggasba; \"only let there be given me\na bow and arrow, and provisions for many days.\"\n\nAll this the Queen commanded should be given to him; and he went out\nto seek for the great fox measuring nine spans in length, and the\nfur of his back striped with stripes.\n\nMany days he wandered over the mountains till his provisions were\nall used and his clothes torn, and, what was a worse evil, he had\nlost his bow by the way.\n\n\"Without a bow I can do nothing,\" reasoned Shanggasba to himself,\n\"even though I fall in with the fox. It is of no use that I wait for\ndeath here. I had better return to the palace and see what fortune\ndoes for me.\"\n\nBut as he had wandered about up and down without knowing his way, it so\nhappened that as he now directed his steps back to the road, he came\nupon the spot where he had laid down to sleep the night before, and\nthere it was he had left the bow lying. But in the meantime the great\nfox nine spans long, with the fur of his back striped with stripes,\nhad come by that way, and finding the bow lying had striven to gnaw\nit through. In so doing he had passed his neck through the string,\nand the string had strangled him. So in this way Shanggasba obtained\npossession of his skin, which he forthwith carried in triumph to the\nKing and Queen. The King when he saw it exclaimed, \"Of a truth now is\nShanggasba a mighty hunter, for he has killed the great fox nine spans\nlong, and with the fur of his back striped with stripes. Therefore\nshall the hand of the Princess be given to him in marriage.\"\n\nBut the Queen would not yet give up the cause of her daughter, and she\nsaid, \"Not only in fighting and hunting must he give proof of might,\nbut also over the spirits he must show his power.\" Then Shanggasba\nmade answer, \"Wherein shall I show my power over the spirits?\"\n\nAnd the Queen said, \"In the regions of the North, among the Mongols,\nare seven d\u00e6mons who ride on horses: these shalt thou slay and bring\nhither, if thou wouldst ask for the hand of the Princess and become\nthe King's son-in-law.\"\n\n\"Even so let it be,\" replied Shanggasba; \"only point me out the way,\nand give me provisions for the journey.\"\n\nSo the Queen commanded that the way should be shown him, and appointed\nhim provisions for the journey, which she prepared with her own hand,\nnamely, seven pieces of black rye-bread that he was to eat on his way\nout, and seven pieces of white wheaten-bread that he was to eat on his\nway home. Thus provided, he went forth towards the region of the North,\namong the Mongols, to seek for the seven d\u00e6mons who rode on horses.\n\nBefore night he reached the land of the Mongols, and finding a hillock,\nhe halted and sat down on it, and took out his provisions: and it\nwell-nigh befell that he had eaten the white wheaten-bread first;\nbut he said, \"Nay, I had best get through the black bread first.\" So\nhe left the white wheaten-bread lying beside him, and began to eat\na piece of the black rye-bread. But as he was hungry and ate fast,\nthe hiccups took him; and then, before he had time to put the bread\nup again into his wallet, suddenly the seven d\u00e6mons of the country\nof the Mongols came upon him, riding on their horses. So he rose\nand ran away in great fear, leaving the bread upon the ground. But\nthey, after they had chased him a good space, stopped and took\ncounsel of each other what they should do with him, and though for\na while they could not agree, finally they all exclaimed together,\n\"Let us be satisfied with taking away his victuals.\" So they turned\nback and took his victuals; and the black rye-bread they threw away,\nbut the white wheaten-bread they ate, every one of them a piece.\n\nThe Queen, however, had put poison in the white wheaten-bread, which\nwas to serve Shanggasba on his homeward journey; and now that the\nseven d\u00e6mons ate thereof, they were all killed with the poison that\nwas prepared for him, and they all laid them down on the hillock and\ndied, while their horses grazed beside them (4).\n\nBut in the morning, Shanggasba hearing nothing more of the trampling\nof the d\u00e6mons chasing him, left off running, and plucked up courage\nto turn round and look after them; and when he saw them not, he\nturned stealthily back, looking warily on this side and on that,\nlest they should be lying in wait for him. And when he had satisfied\nhimself the way was clear of them, he bethought him to go back and\nlook after his provisions. When he got back to the hillock, however,\nhe found the seven d\u00e6mons lying dead, and their horses grazing beside\nthem. The sight gave him great joy; and having packed each one on\nthe back of his horse, he led them all up to the King and Queen.\n\nThe King was so pleased that the seven d\u00e6mons were slain, that he\nwould not let him be put on his trial any more. So he delivered the\nPrincess to him, and he became the King's son-in-law. Moreover, he\ngave him a portion like to the portion of a King's son, and erected\na throne for him as high as his own throne, and appointed to him half\nhis kingdom, and made all his subjects pay him homage as to himself.\n\n\n\n\"This man thought that his father's words had failed, and owned not\nthat it was because he buried his bones in a prosperous place that\ngood fortune happened unto him,\" exclaimed the Prince.\n\nAnd as he let these words escape him, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr replied,\n\"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened\nhis lips.\" And with the cry, \"To escape out of this world is good!\" he\nsped him through the air, fleet out of sight.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE XIX.\n\n\nWherefore the Well-and-wise-walking Khan once more took the way of\nthe cool grove, and having brought thence the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr bound in his\nbag, and having eaten of his cake that never diminished to strengthen\nhim for the journey, as they went along the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr told him this\ntale, saying,--\n\n\n\nTHE PERFIDIOUS FRIEND.\n\nLong ages ago there lived in a northern country of India a lioness\nwho had her den in the side of a snow-capped mountain. One day she had\nbeen so long without food that she was near to have devoured her cub;\ndetermining, however, to make one effort first to spare it, she went\nout on a long journey till she came to a fair plain where there were\na number of cows grazing. When she saw the herd of cows she could\nnot refrain a terrible roar; but the cows, hearing the roar of the\nlioness, said one to another, \"Let us make haste to escape from the\nlioness,\" and they all went their way. But there was one of the cows\nwhich had a calf, and because she could neither make the calf go fast\nenough to escape the lioness, nor could bring herself to forsake it,\nshe remained behind and fell a prey to the wild beast. The lioness\naccordingly made a great feast, chiefly on the blood of the cow,\nand carried the flesh and the bones to her den.\n\nThe calf followed the traces of its mother's flesh, and when the\nlioness lay down to sleep the calf came along with her own cub to suck,\nand the lioness being overcome, and as it were drunken with the blood\nshe had taken, failed to perceive what the calf did. In the morning,\nas the calf had drunk her milk, she forbore to slay it, and the calf\nand the cub were suckled together. After two or three days, when there\nwas nothing left for the lioness to eat but a few bones of the cow,\nshe devoured them so greedily in her hunger that one big knuckle-bone\nstuck in her throat, and as she could by no means get it out again,\nshe was throttled by it till she died. Before dying she spoke thus\nto the calf and the cub, \"You two, who have been suckled with the\nsame milk, must live at peace with each other. If some day an enemy\ncomes to you and tries to set you one against the other, pay no heed\nto his words, but remain at one as before.\" Thus she charged them.\n\nWhen the lioness was dead the cub betook himself into the forest,\nand the calf found its way to the sunny slope of a mountain side;\nbut at the hour of evening they went down to the stream together to\ndrink, and after that they disported themselves together.\n\nThere was a fox, however, who had been used to feed on the remnants\nof the lion's meals, and continued now to profit by those of the cub;\nhe saw with a jealous eye this growing intimacy with the calf, and\ndetermined to set them at variance (2).\n\nOne day, therefore, when the cub had just killed a beast and lay\nsucking its blood, the fox came to him with his tail no longer cockily\ncurled up on his back, but low, sweeping the ground, and his ears\ndrooping. When the cub saw him in this plight, he exclaimed, \"Fox! what\nhath befallen thee? Tell me thy grief, and console thyself the while\nwith a bite of this hind.\" But the fox, putting on a doleful tone,\nanswered him, \"How should I, thine uncle, take pleasure in eating flesh\nwhen thou hast an enemy? hence is all pleasure gone from me.\" But the\ncub answered carelessly, \"It is not likely any one should be my enemy,\nfox; therefore set to and eat this hind's flesh.\" \"If thou refusest in\nthis lighthearted way to listen to the words of thine uncle,\" answered\nthe fox, \"so shall the day come when thou wilt berue it.\" \"Who then,\npray, is this mine enemy?\" at last inquired the cub. \"Who should it\nbe but this calf? Saith he not always, 'The lioness killed my mother;\ntherefore when I am strong enough I will kill the cub.'\" \"Nay, but\nwe two are brothers,\" replied the cub; \"the calf has no bad thoughts\ntowards me.\" \"Knowest thou then really not that thy mother killed\nhis mother?\" exclaimed the fox. And the cub thought within himself,\n\"What the fox says is nevertheless true; and, further, is he not mine\nuncle, and what gain should he have to deceive me?\" Then said he aloud,\n\"By what manner of means does the calf purpose to kill me? tell me,\nI pray.\" And the fox made answer, \"When he wakes to-morrow morning,\nobserve thou him, and if he stretches himself and then digs his horns\ninto the earth, and shakes his tail and bellows, know that it is a sure\ntoken he is minded to kill thee.\" The cub, his suspicions beginning\nto be excited, promised to be upon his guard and to observe the calf.\n\nHaving succeeded thus far the fox went his way, directing his steps to\nthe sunny side of the mountain slope where the calf was grazing. With\nhis tail trailing on the ground, and his ears drooping, he stood\nbefore the calf. \"Fox! what aileth thee?\" inquired the calf cheerily;\n\"come and tell me thy grief.\" But the fox answered, \"Not for myself\ndo I grieve. It is because thou, O calf! hast an enemy; therefore\ndo I grieve.\" But the calf answered, \"Be comforted, fox, for it\nis not likely any should be an enemy to me.\" Then replied the fox,\n\"Beware thou disregard not my words, for if thou do, of a certainty\na day shall come when thou shalt berue it.\" But the calf inquired,\nsaying, \"Who then could this enemy possibly be?\" And the fox told him,\nsaying, \"Who should it be other than the lion-cub in the forest on\nthe other side the mountain? Behold! doth he not use to say, 'Even\nas my mother killed and devoured his mother, so also will I kill and\ndevour him.'\" \"Let not this disturb thee, fox,\" interposed the calf,\n\"for we two are brothers; he hath no bad thoughts against me.\" But\nthe fox warned him again, saying, \"Of a surety, if thou disregard\nmy words thou shalt berue it. Behold! I have warned thee.\" Then the\ncalf began to think within himself, \"Is it not true what he says that\nthe cub's mother killed my mother; and, further, what gain should he,\nmine uncle, have in deceiving me?\" Then said he aloud, \"If thy warning\nbe so true, tell me further, I pray thee, by what manner of means\ndoth he design to put me to death?\" And the fox told him, saying,\n\"When he wakes to-morrow morning observe thou him, and if he stretch\nhimself and shake his mane, if he draws his claws out and in, and\nscratches up the earth with them, then know that it is a sure token\nhe is minded to slay thee.\" The calf, his suspicions beginning to be\nawakened, promised to be upon his guard and to observe the cub.\n\nThe next morning, when they woke, each observed the other as he had\npromised the fox, and each by natural habit, which the fox had observed\nof old, but they not, gave the signs he had set before them for a\ntoken. At this each was filled with wrath and suspicion against the\nother, and when at sunrise they both went down to the stream to drink,\nthe cub growled at the calf, and the calf bellowed at the cub. Hence\nfurther convinced of each other's bad intentions, they each determined\nat the same instant to be beforehand with the other. The calf dug his\nhorns into the breast of the cub and gored it open, and the cub sprang\nupon the calf's throat and made a formidable wound, from whence the\nblood poured out. Thus they contended together till all the blood of\nboth was poured out, and they died there before the face of the fox.\n\nThen came a voice out of svarga (3), saying, \"Put never thy trust\nin a false friend, for so doing he shall put thee at enmity with him\nwho is thy friend in truth.\"\n\n\n\n\"Nevertheless, as the cub was killed as well as the calf, the perfidy\nof the fox profited him nothing as soon as he had made an end of\neating their flesh!\" exclaimed the Khan.\n\nAnd as he let these words escape him, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr replied,\n\"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened\nhis lips.\" And with the cry, \"To escape out of this world is good!\" he\nsped him through the air, swift out of sight.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE XX.\n\n\nWherefore the Well-and-wise-walking Khan once more took the way of\nthe cool grove; and having brought thence the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr bound in his\nbag, and having eaten of his cake that never diminished, to strengthen\nhim for the journey, as they went along the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr told him this\ntale, saying,--\n\n\n\nBHIXU LIFE.\n\nLong ages ago there lived in a country in the north of India, namely\nNepaul, on the banks of a river named the Hiranj\u00e2vati (1), an old\nman and his old wife, who had no sons, but only one daughter. But\nthis one daughter was all in all to them; and they had only one care\nin life, and that care was, how to establish her safely and well,\nthat she might not be left alone in the world when they were on it no\nmore. Nevertheless, though the maiden was fair to see, and wise and\nprudent in her ways, and though her parents had laid by a rich dowry\nfor her portion, it so chanced that no one offered to marry her. Yet\nthe years went by, and the man and his wife were both growing old,\nand they said, \"If we marry her not now, soon will she be left all\nalone in the world.\"\n\nIn a hut at some distance lived another aged couple, who were very\npoor; but they had one only son. Then said the father of the maiden\nto her mother, \"We must give our daughter to the son of this poor\ncouple for a wife, otherwise she will be left alone in the world.\"\n\nSo they married the maiden to the son of this poor old couple, and\nthey took him into their house, and he lived together with them.\n\nAfter a time, the husband felt a desire to return and see his parents;\nso he took his wife with him, and they went to seek his parents. At\nhome, however, they were not, for they led a Bhixu life, and were\ngone on a begging expedition through all the tribes; therefore they\nwent on, seeking them. About this time, a mighty Khan had given orders\nfor a great distribution of alms (2). All that any one asked for, it\nwas given him, whatsoever it might be. Only concerning the measure of\nrice-brandy distributed to any one person was there any restriction;\nbut of all the rest there was no stint.\n\nThe man and his wife therefore came with the rest of the people,\nand obtained their portion, according to their desire. When all\nhad been well served, and had returned every one to his home, the\nman said to his wife, \"If we would really be rich, and enjoy life,\nthe way to do it is to go round through all the tribes, living on\nalms. So living, we have all we need desire. Moreover we need stand\nin no fear of thieves and robbers; our strength will not be brought\ndown by labour by day, nor our sleep disturbed with anxiety by night;\nin drought and murrain we shall have no loss to suffer, for the herds\nof which we shall live will not be our own. To travel about ever among\nnew people is itself no small pleasure. Moreover we shall never be\nvexed with paying tribute of that we have earned with the toil of our\narms. If even we go back and take to us the inheritance thy parents\npromised to us, in how many days would it be all spent, and we become\nagain even as now! But by going from tribe to tribe, living on alms,\nour store is never diminished, and there is nothing we shall lack (3).\"\n\nThus they lived many months, begging alms and lacking nothing, even\nas the man had said. Nevertheless, in the midst of their wanderings,\na son was born to them. Then said the woman, \"These wild tribes among\nwhom we now are, give us nothing but rice-brandy, which is no food for\nme; neither have I strength to carry the child as he gets older.\" And\nas she knew her husband loved a vagabond life, and could not hear\nof going to live at home with her parents, she added, \"Let us now\ngo see my parents, and beg of them that they give us of their herds\nan ass, on which the infant may ride withal when we go round among\nthe tribes seeking alms.\" To this proposition the man did not say\n\"Nay,\" and they journeyed towards the house of the woman's parents,\nalong the bank of the river Hiranj\u00e2vati.\n\nWhen they arrived at home, they found that the woman's parents were\ndead, nor was there the least remnant left of all their possessions:\nthe herds were dispersed, and the flocks had fallen a prey to the\nwolves and the jackals; nothing remained but a few tufts of wool, which\nhad got caught on the ant-heaps (4). The wife picked up the tufts,\nsaying, \"We will collect all these, and weave a piece of stuff out of\nthem.\" But her husband pointed out that, at no great distance, was a\nplain with many tents, where, by asking alms, they could have plenty\nof barley and rice, without the trouble of weaving. They continued\ntheir way therefore towards the tents; but the woman continued saying,\n\"When we have woven our piece of stuff, we will sell it, and buy a\nbigger piece, and then we will sell that and buy a bigger; and so on,\ntill we have enough to buy an ass, then we will set our little one\non it instead of carrying him. Then perhaps our ass will have a foal,\nand then we shall have two asses.\" \"Certainly,\" answered her husband,\n\"if our ass has a foal we shall have two asses.\" But the child said,\n\"If our ass has a foal, I will take the foal, and will ride him, going\nabout among the tribes, I also, asking alms even as you (5).\" When\nhis mother heard him speak thus, she was angry, and bid him hold\nhis peace; she also went to correct him by hitting him with a stick,\nbut the boy tried to escape from her, and the blow fell upon his head\nand killed him. Thus their child died.\n\nAt the time that the woman's parents died, and the herds were\ndispersed, and the flocks devoured by wolves and jackals, one only\nlamb had escaped from the destruction, and had taken refuge in a\nhole in the ground, where it remained hid all day, and only came out\nat night to graze (6). One day a hare came by, and as the lamb was\nnot afraid of the hare, she did not hide herself from him; therefore\nthe hare said to her, \"O lamb, who art thou?\" And the lamb answered,\n\"I belong to a flock whose master died of grief because his children\nwent away and forsook him; and when he died, the wolves and the\njackals came and devoured all his flock, and I, even I only, escaped\nof them all, and I have hid myself in this hole. Thou, O hare, then,\nbe my protector.\" Thus spoke the lamb.\n\nBut the hare answered, \"Must not a lamb live in a flock? How shall\na lamb live in a hole all alone? Behold, I will even bring thee to\na place where are flocks of sheep, with whom thou mayest live as\nbecometh a lamb.\"\n\n\"It were better we stayed here,\" replied the lamb trembling; \"for if\nwe meet the wolf in the open country, how shall we escape him?\" \"For\nthat will I provide,\" answered the hare; \"only come thou with me.\" So\nthey set out, the lamb and the hare together, for to seek a place\nwhere grazed flocks in goodly company.\n\nAs they went along, they saw on the ground a hand-loom, which some\none sitting out there to weave had left behind. The hare bid the lamb\nput it on her back, and bring it along with her. The lamb did as she\nwas bid. A little farther they saw a piece of yellow stuff lying on\nthe ground: this also the hare bid the lamb pick up and bring with\nher. The lamb did as she was bid. And a little farther on they saw a\npiece of paper, with something written on it, blown along by the wind;\nthis likewise the hare bid the lamb bring with her. And the lamb did\nas she was bid.\n\nA little farther on they saw a wolf coming. As he drew near them,\nthe hare said to the lamb, \"Bring me now my throne.\" Then the lamb\nunderstood that he meant the hand-loom, and she set it in the way. Then\nthe hare continued, \"Spread abroad over me my gold-coloured royal\nmantle.\" Then the lamb understood that he meant the piece of yellow\nstuff he had bid her pick up, and she spread it over him as he sat\non the hand-loom for a throne. Then said the hare again \"Reach me the\ndocument which the moon sent down to me on the fifteenth of the month\n(7).\" So the lamb understood that he meant the piece of written paper\nhe had bid her pick up, and she gave it into his hand.\n\nBy this time the wolf had come up with them, and when he saw the\nhare seated so majestically on the hand-loom for a throne, and with\nthe royal mantle of yellow stuff about him, and the written document\nin his hand, the lamb moreover standing quietly by his side, he said\nwithin himself, \"These must be very extraordinary beasts, who do not\nrun away at my approach, after the manner of common beasts.\" Therefore\nhe stood still, and said to the hare, \"Who and whence art thou?\" But\nthe hare, still holding the piece of written paper in his hand, made\nas though he were reading from it as follows:--\"This is the all high\ncommand of the god Churmusta (8) unto the most noble and honourable\nhare, delivered unto him by the hands of the moon, on the fifteenth\nof the month. On the same most noble and honourable hare I lay this\ncharge, that he do bring me, before the fifteenth of the next moon,\nthe skins of a thousand rapacious, flock-scattering wolves.\" And as\nthe hare read these words, he erected his ears with great importance\nand determination of manner, and made as though he would have come\ndown from his throne to attack the wolf.\n\nThe wolf, still more alarmed at this proceeding, took flight, nor so\nmuch as looked back to see whether the hare was really pursuing him.\n\nAs soon as he was well on his way, the hare and the lamb set out once\nmore on their journey, taking another direction from the wolf, and\narrived happily at one of the most fertile pastures in the kingdom\nof Nepaul.\n\n\n\n\"The prudence of that hare was equal to his good feeling,\" exclaimed\nthe Khan.\n\nAnd as he let these words escape him, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr replied,\n\"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened\nhis lips.\" And with the cry, \"To escape out of this world is good!\" he\nsped him through the air, swift out of sight.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE XXI.\n\n\nWherefore the Well-and-wise-walking Khan once more took the way of the\ncool grove; and having brought thence the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr bound in his bag,\nthe Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr as they went along told him this tale, saying,--\n\n\n\nHOW THE WIDOW SAVED HER SON'S LIFE (1).\n\nLong ages ago there lived in Chara Kitad (2), which lieth to the\neast of India, a king named Daibang (3), who had one only son. But\nthis son never showed himself to the people. No one in the whole\nempire had once set his eyes on him. Every day he sent and fetched a\nhandsome youth of the people to come and comb his hair for him, and\nimmediately that he had made an end of combing him he had him put to\ndeath. Every day one. This went on for many years, and no one dared\nto withhold their son from the king's command. At last it came to the\nturn of a youth who was a widow's son. The widow, therefore, full of\nanguish at the thought of her son, her eldest stay and consolation,\nbeing taken from her and slain, made cakes of dough kneaded with her\nown milk, and gave them to her son, saying, \"Manage so that while thou\nart combing the hair of the Khan, he shall eat one of these cakes.\"\n\nThe widow's son, therefore, came and stood before the Khan; and as he\ncombed the Khan's hair with the Khan's golden comb, he saw that the\nears of the Khan were formed like to the ears of an ass, and that it\nwas that his subjects might not know he had ears like to the ears of\nan ass, that he put to death every day the young men, who, combing his\nhair, had seen them. Nevertheless, the widow's son went on combing the\nKhan's hair, and eating the cakes his mother had given him the while.\n\nAt last the Khan said, \"What eatest thou?\"\n\nAnd he answered, \"Cakes kneaded of rice-flour and milk; such cakes\ndo I eat.\"\n\nAnd when the Khan asked for some to taste, he gave him one, and the\nKhan ate it. When the Khan had eaten the cake, he said, \"The scent and\nthe flavour of these cakes is good. How are they composed? tell me.\"\n\nThe widow's son answered, \"My mother made them for me with milk of\nher own breast, and kneaded them with rice-flour.\"\n\nWhen the Khan heard that, he said within himself, \"How shall I put this\nyouth to death, seeing he and I have both partaken of one mother's\nmilk? That were unnatural and unheard of.\" Then said he aloud, \"If\nthat be so, I will not put thee to death this day; but only take an\noath of thee that thou tell no man that I have ears like to asses'\nears. Shouldst thou, however, break thine oath, then, know that thou\nshalt surely be put to death.\"\n\n\"Unto no man, O Khan,\" swore the youth, \"will I declare this\nthing. Neither unto my mother herself.\" And having thanked the Khan\nfor sparing his life he went his way.\n\nDay after day, however, all the youths who went in to comb the Khan's\nhair were put to death as before, and all the people wondered greatly\nwhy the widow's son had been spared. Nevertheless, remembering the\noath which he had given the Khan, he told no man how it had befallen\nfor all their wondering and inquiring, nor even his own mother.\n\nBut as he continued thus keeping his own counsel, and telling no man\nthe reason why the Khan killed all the other youths who combed his\nhair and spared him, the secret vexed his heart, nor could he stand\nagainst the oppression of his desire to speak it, so that he fell ill,\nand like to die. Nor were medicaments nor yet offerings in sacrifice\n(4) of any avail to heal him of that sickness, though many Lamas\nwere called to see him. At last a Lama came, who having felt his\npulse said, \"In this kind of sickness medicaments avail nothing;\nonly tell what it is thou hast on thine heart, and as soon as thou\nshalt have told it, to whomsoever it may be, thou shalt be relieved,\nand be well again. Other remedy is there none.\" Thus spoke the Lama.\n\nThen all they that stood by the bed spoke to him, saying, \"If it\nbe that thou hast any thing on thy mind, as the Lama has said, even\nthough it be the least matter, speak it now and recover. Of what good\nshall it be to thee to keep the secret if, after all, thou diest?\"\n\nBut neither so would he break his oath to the Khan. But at night\nwhen they were all gone, and his mother only was with him, and she\nurged him much, he told her, saying, \"Of a truth have I a secret;\nbut I have sworn to the Khan that I will tell it to no man, nor yet\neven to thee, my mother.\"\n\nThen spoke his mother again, saying, \"If this be so, then go out far\nfrom the habitations of men, and hiding thy face in a crack of the\nearth where the soil is parched for want of moisture; or else, in the\nhollow of an ancient tree, or in a narrow cleft of the everlasting\nrock, and speak it there.\"\n\nAnd the youth listened to her word; and he went out far from the\nhabitations of men till he came where there was a hole of a marmot\nin the ground. Putting his mouth into the hole he cried, \"Our Khan,\nDaibang, has ears even like to the ears of an ass!\" and he repeated\nthe same four times, and was well again.\n\nBut the marmot living in the hole, had heard the words, and she\nrepeated them to the echo, and the echo told them to the wind, and\nthe wind brought them to the Khan.\n\nSo the Khan sent, and called the youth, even the widow's son, before\nhim, saying, \"Charged I thee not that thou told no man this thing,\nand swarest thou not unto me that thou wouldst declare it to no man,\nnor even to thine own mother? How then hast thou gone and spoken\nit abroad?\"\n\nBut the youth answered, saying, \"To no man either at home or abroad\nhave I spoken the thing, O Khan!\"\n\n\"How then came the words back to me unless it be that thou hast spoken\nthem, seeing that none other knows the thing save thee?\" again asked\nthe Khan.\n\n\"I know not,\" replied the youth, \"unless it be that through refraining\nof myself that I might keep the secret I fell ill, and when all\nmedicaments and offerings of sacrifice failed, there came a Lama\nwho said there was no remedy save that I should unburden that which\noppressed my mind. Then to save my life, and yet not betray the\nKhan's confidence, I spoke it in the hole of a marmot in the waste,\nfar from the habitations of men.\"\n\nThen when the Khan found he was so faithful and discreet he believed\nhis word, and forbore to put him to death. Further he said to him,\n\"Tell me, now, canst thou devise any means by which these asses'\nears may be concealed, so that I may go forth among my subjects like\nother Khans?\"\n\n\"If the Khan would listen to the word of one so humble, even now a\nmeans of concealment is plain to my mind,\" replied the youth.\n\nAnd the Khan answered him, \"Speak, and I will listen to what thou\nhast to advise.\"\n\nThe youth therefore spoke, saying, \"O mighty Khan! Let now a\nhigh-fashioned cap be made to cover thine head, and let there be on\neither side lappets to the cap, covering the ears. Then shall all\nmen when they see the Khan wearing such a cap deem it beseeming to\nwear such a cap likewise.\" Thus the youth counselled the Khan.\n\nAnd the Khan found the counsel good, and he made him a high-fashioned\ncap with lappets covering the ears; and when the ministers of state\nand the counsellors and nobles saw the Khan wearing such a cap,\nthey made to themselves caps like unto it, and all men wore it, and\nit was known by the name of \"the lappet cap.\" But no man knew that\nthe king's ears were like to asses' ears.\n\nFurthermore, the Khan no longer had need to put to death the youths\nwho combed his hair, and all the people rejoiced greatly. But for\nthe youth, even the widow's son, he made him steward over all his\nhousehold, and whatsoever he did, he did with prudence and judgment,\nhis mother advising him.\n\n\n\n\"The Khan who put so many youths to death to save his own reputation\ndid not deserve so good a counsel!\" exclaimed the Khan.\n\nAnd as he let these words escape him, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr replied,\n\"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened\nhis lips.\" And with the cry, \"To escape out of this world is good!\" he\nsped him through the air, swift out of sight.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE XXII.\n\n\nWherefore the Well-and-wise-walking Khan once more took the way of\nthe cool grove, and, having brought thence the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr as on the\nother times, bound in his bag with the cord woven of a hundred threads,\nas they went along the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr told him this tale, saying,--\n\n\n\nTHE WHITE SERPENT-KING.\n\nLong ages ago there lived in the east part of India a Khan whose\npossessions were so large that he had ten thousand cities, and for\nthe administration of the affairs of the same he had not less than\nthirty ministers. He had also a gold frog that could dance, and a\nparrot that spoke wisely. A tamer was also appointed to have care of\nthem, and every day this keeper brought them before the Khan to divert\nhim. The frog danced every day a new dance, and the parrot now gave\nwise answers to the questions he proposed, now sang melodious songs\nwith accomplished art.\n\nOne day there came to the court of this King a minstrel from a strange\nland, in whose playing and singing the Khan took so great pleasure\nthat he gave him many rich presents, and the man went about saying,\n\"In all his dominions the King has no favourite in whom he takes so\ngreat delight as in me who am a stranger; neither is there any other\nwho knows how to please him as I.\" When the keeper of the gold frog\nand the parrot heard him make this boast, he answered him saying,\n\"Nay, much greater pleasure hath the Khan in his gold frog and his\nparrot, of whom I am keeper.\" And they strove together. In the end the\nminstrel said, \"To-morrow we will both go up to the Khan together, and\nwhile your gold frog dances his most elaborate dance, and your parrot\nsings his most melodious songs, I also will play and sing my sagas to\nthe Khan; and behold! to whichever the Khan gives ear while he regards\nnot the other, he shall be accounted to have most pleased the Khan.\"\n\nThe next day they did even as the minstrel had said, and when the\nminstrel began to sing the Khan paid no more heed at all to the frog\nor the parrot, but listened only to the strange minstrel's words.\n\nThen the tamer who had charge of the frog and the parrot, when he\nsaw that the strange minstrel was preferred, lost heart and came no\nmore before the Khan, but went and let fly the parrot, and threw the\ngold frog out of a window of the palace. As he threw the gold frog\nout of the window of the palace a crow was flying by, and seeing the\nfrog thrown out, and that it knew not which way to turn, he caught\nit in his beak and flew away to a ledge of a rock. As he was about\nto devour her, the frog said,--\n\n\"O crow! if thou art minded to devour me, first wash me in water,\nand then come and devour me.\"\n\nAnd the remark pleased the crow, and he said to the frog,--\n\n\"Well spoken, O frog! What is thy name?\"\n\nAnd the frog made answer,--\n\n\"Bagatur-Ssedkiltu (1). That is my name.\"\n\nSo the crow took her down to wash her in the streamlet which flowed\nceaselessly out of a hole in the rock. But the frog had no sooner\ngained the water than she crept into the hole. The crow called\nafter her,--\n\n\"Bagatur-Ssedkiltu! Bagatur-Ssedkiltu, come thou here!\"\n\nBut the frog answered him,--\n\n\"I should be foolish indeed if I came of my own account to give up\nmy sweet life to your voracity. The Three Precious Treasures (2)\nmay decide whether I have so little courage and pride as that!\"\n\nSo saying, she leapt into a cleft of the rock out of reach of the crow.\n\nMeantime her former tamer had come up, and began searching about,\ntrying to recover her, having bethought him he might incur the King's\nanger in having let her go. And when he saw her not he began digging\nup the earth and hewing the rock all round the streamlet.\n\nWhen the frog saw him digging up the earth and breaking the rock all\nround the streamlet, she cried out to him,--\n\n\"Dig not up the source of this spring. The King of the same hath\ngiven me charge over it, and I will not that thou lay it bare by\ndigging round it.\" She said further, \"Though now thou art in sorrow\nand distress, I will presently render thee a gift that shall be a\ngift of wonder. Listen and I will tell thee. I am the daughter of the\nSerpent-king, reigning over the white mother-o'-pearl shells (3). One\nday I went out to see the King's daughter bathe, and she, seeing me,\nsent and had me fished out of the stream with a mother-o'-pearl pail,\nand took me with her.\"\n\nMeantime, the King began to notice that the parrot and the frog came\nno more to entertain him, so he sent for the tamer, and inquired what\nhad become of his charges.\n\n\"The frog is gone her way in the stream,\" answered the man, \"and the\nparrot must have been taken by a hawk.\"\n\nThe Khan was wroth at this answer, and ordered that the man should\nbe taken and put to death.\n\nThen came the first of the thirty ministers to the Khan, saying,--\n\n\"If we put this man to death, no more dancers or singers will come\nany more to this court.\"\n\nAnd the Khan answered,--\n\n\"It is well spoken; let him not be put to death.\" He sent him into\nbanishment, however, with three men to see him over the border of\nhis dominions, and a goat to carry his provisions. But he also had\nhim shod with a pair of shoes made out of stone, forbidding him to\nreturn until the stone shoes should be worn through.\n\nAs soon as his guards had left him, the tamer sat down by the side of\nthe stream, and after soaking the stone shoes with water, rubbed them\nwith a piece of rough stone till they were all in holes. Then he came\nback to his own country, with the goat that had carried his provisions,\nand made him dig roots out of the earth for him to eat. And he lived\nupon the roots.\n\nOne day he saw an owl flying by, which held in its mouth a white\nserpent. The tamer knew him to be a serpent-prince, and to make\nthe owl release him, took off his girdle and held it in his mouth,\nafter the manner in which the owl held the serpent, and, standing over\nagainst the owl, he cried out, \"The thing held in the mouth burns with\nfire!\" at the same time dropping the girdle from his mouth suddenly,\nas if it scorched him.\n\nWhen the owl had heard his words, she also let the serpent fall out\nof her beak.\n\nThen the tamer took up the serpent, and put it on a piece of\ngrass near, and covered it with his cap. He had hardly done so,\nwhen there came up out of the water a whole train of princes of the\nserpent-d\u00e6mons, riding on horses, on to the bank of the stream, where\nthey dispersed themselves, searching about every where for the white\nserpent, which was a serpent-prince.\n\nAfter they had searched long and found nothing, there came up out\nof the water, riding on a white horse, a white serpent, having on a\nwhite mantle and a white crown (4).\n\nHe, seeing the tamer, said to him,--\n\n\"I am the Serpent-king, reigning over the white mother-o'-pearl\nshells. I have lost my son. O man! say if thine eyes have lighted\non him.\"\n\nThe tamer asked of him, \"What was thy son like?\"\n\nAnd the Serpent-king answered,--\n\n\"Even a white serpent was my son.\"\n\n\"If that is so,\" answered the tamer, thy son is with me. Even now a\nmighty Garuda-bird had him in his beak and prepared to devour him. But\nI, who am a tamer of all living creatures, knew how to entreat him\nso that he should give the white serpent up to me.\"\n\nThen he lifted his cap from off the grass and delivered the White\nSerpent-prince unto the Serpent-king, his father.\n\nThe Serpent-king was full of delight at getting back his son, and\ncalled a great feast of all his friends and acquaintance among the\nserpent-princes to celebrate his joy. And the tamer he took into his\npalace, and he dwelt with him.\n\nAfter a time, however, the man desired to return to his own country,\nand spoke to the Serpent-king to let him go. Then said the White\nSerpent-king, who reigned over the white mother-o'-pearl shells--\n\n\"Behold, as thou hast dealt well with me, I will not let thee go\nwithout bestowing somewhat on thee, and telling thee what good fortune\nshall befall thee. Behold these two times hast thou served me well;\nand long time have I sought thee to reward thee, for first thou\ndidst release my daughter, the Princess Goldfrog, from servitude,\nputting her out of the window of the palace, and now thou hast\nrestored my son, even mine only son, to me. Know, therefore, that of\nthee shall be born four sons, every one of whom shall be a king in\nGambudv\u00eepa. Nevertheless, seeing it will befall that, ere that time\ncome, thou shalt pass through a season of trial, and be in need,\nI give unto thee this Mirjalaktschi (5) and this wand. Whensoever\nthou wantest for food, touch but this Mirjalaktschi with the wand,\nand immediately every kind of viand shall be spread out before thee.\"\n\nThen he brought him up to the edge of the water to let him depart,\ngiving him a brightly painted Mirjalaktschi and a mother-o'-pearl wand;\nmoreover, he gave him a red-coloured dog also.\n\nThen the White Serpent-king went his way down under the water again\nto his palace, and the tamer turned him towards his own country,\nthe red-coloured dog following behind him.\n\n\n\n\"Thus was the promise of Princess Goldfrog fulfilled,\" exclaimed\nthe Khan.\n\nAnd as he let these words escape him, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr replied,\n\"Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened\nhis lips.\" And with the cry, \"To escape out of this world is good!\" he\nsped him through the air, swift out of sight.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTALE XXIII.\n\n\nWherefore the Well-and-wise-walking Khan once more took the way of\nthe cool grove; and having taken the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr, and bound him in his\nbag, as at other times, he brought him along to the great Master and\nTeacher N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una. As they went along by the way, the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr told\nhim this tale, of how it fell out with the red-coloured dog, saying,--\n\n\n\nWHAT BECAME OF THE RED-COLOURED DOG.\n\nWhen it was evening they went, the tamer and the red-coloured dog\ntogether, into a grove to sleep, and by day they journeyed on. One day,\nwhen they made their evening halt, the red-coloured dog laid aside her\ndog's form, and appeared as a beautiful maiden, clothed in shining\nrobes of white, and with a crown of white flowers on her head; and,\nwhen the tamer saw her, he loved her.\n\nMoreover, she said to him, \"Me hath the Serpent-king given to thee to\nbe thy wife.\" And he married her, and she was his wife. Every morning\nshe put on the form of the red-coloured dog again, and they journeyed\non. One morning, however, before she put on the dog form, she went\ndown to bathe in the river, and while she was gone, the man burnt the\ndog form, saying, \"Now must she always remain as a beautiful woman.\"\n\nBut when she came up from bathing, and found what he had done, she\nsaid, with many other moving and sorrowful words, \"Now can I no more\nwalk with thee, and share thy wanderings.\"\n\nSo they remained in that place.\n\nAgain, another day she went down to bathe in the river, and as she\nbathed some of her hairs falling off, were carried down the stream.\n\nAt a place near the mouth of the stream, a maid belonging to the\nservice of the Khan had gone down to fetch water, and these hairs\ncame out of the water clinging to her water-jar. And as the hairs\nwere wonderful to behold, being adorned with the five colours and the\nseven precious things (1), she wondered at them, and brought them to\nthe Khan for him to see.\n\nThe Khan had no sooner examined them than he came to this conclusion,\nsaying,--\n\n\"Somewhere along the course of this stream it is evident there must\nbe living a surpassingly beautiful woman. Only to such an one could\nthese hairs belong.\"\n\nThen he called the captain of his guard, and bid him take of armed\nmen as many as ever he would, and by all means to bring unto him the\nwoman to whom these hairs belonged. Thus he instructed him.\n\nBut the woman had knowledge of what was going forward, and she came\nweeping to her husband, and showed the thing to him, \"And now,\"\nshe said, \"the Khan's soldiers will surround the place, neither is\nthere any way of escape, nor any that can withstand the orders of the\nKhan. Hadst thou not burnt the red dog form, then had I had a means\nof refuge.\"\n\nThen the man wept too, and would have persuaded her to escape, but\nshe said,--\n\n\"It skills not, for they would pursue us and overtake us, and put you\nto death out of revenge. By going at their command without resistance,\nat least they will save you alive.\"\n\nWhile they were speaking the captain of the Khan's guard came with\nhis men-at-arms, and posted them about the place. Then, while they\nwere taking their measures to completely surround the inclosure that\nthe woman might by no means break through, she said to her husband,--\n\n\"The only remedy that remains is that thou wait quietly for the space\nof a year, and in the meantime I will arrange a stratagem. Then on the\nfifteenth day of the month Pushja (2), I will go up on to the edge\nof a mountain with the Khan. But thou, meantime, make to thyself a\ngarment of magpie's feathers, then come and dance before us, in it;\nand I will invent some plan for escaping with thee.\"\n\nThus she advised him. And the soldiers came and took her to the Khan;\nthe husband making no resistance, even as she had counselled him.\n\nAlso, he let a year pass according to her word; but being alone, and\nin distress for the loss of his wife, he neglected his work and his\nbusiness, and came to poverty. Then bethought he him of the word of\nthe White Serpent-king, saying, \"There shall come a season when thou\nshalt be in poverty.\" So he took out his Mirjalaktschi, and touched\nit with the mother-o'pearl-wand, and it gave him all manner of food,\nand he lived in abundance. Then he set snares, and caught magpies,\nexceeding many, and made to himself a covering out of their feathers,\nand practised himself in dancing grotesque dances.\n\nOn the fifteenth day of the month Pushja, the Khanin arranged to go\nwith the Khan to visit the mountain. On the same day the husband came\nthere also, dressed even as she had directed him, in a costume made\nof magpie's feathers. Having first attracted the attention of the\nKhan by his extraordinary appearance, he began dancing and performing\nludicrous antics.\n\nThe Khan, who was by this time tired of the songs of the foreign\nminstrel, nor had found any to replace the gold frog and the parrot,\nobserved him with great attention. But the Khanin seeing how exact\nand expert her husband was in following out her advice for recovering\nher, felt quite happy as she had never done before since she was\ntaken from him; and to encourage him to go on dancing she laughed\nloud and merrily.\n\nThe Khan was astonished, when he saw her laugh thus, and he said,\n\"Although for a whole year past I have devised every variety of\nmeans to endeavour to make thee at least bear some appearance of\ncheerfulness, it has profited nothing; for thou hast sat and mourned\nall the day long, nor has any thing had power to divert thee. Yet\nnow that this man, who is more like a monster than a man, has come\nand made all these ridiculous contortions, at this thou hast laughed!\"\n\nAnd she, having fixed in her own mind the part she had to play,\ncontinued laughing, as she answered him,--\n\n\"All this year, even as thou sayest, thou hast laboured to make me\nlaugh; and now that I have laughed, it would seem almost that it\npleaseth thee not.\"\n\nAnd the Khan hasted to make answer, \"Nay, for in that thou hast laughed\nthou hast given me pleasure; but in that it was at a diversion which\nanother prepared for thee, and not I, this is what pleased me not. I\nwould that thou hadst laughed at a sport devised for thee by me.\"\n\nThen answered the Khanin, \"Wouldst thou in very truth prepare for me\na sport at which I would surely laugh?\"\n\nAnd the Khan hasted to make answer, \"That would I in very truth;\nthou knowest that there is nothing I would not do to fulfil thy\nbidding and desire.\"\n\n\"If that be so,\" replied the Khanin. \"Know that there is one thing\nat which I would laugh in right good earnest; and that is, if it were\nthou who worest this monstrous costume. That this fellow weareth it is\nwell enough, but we know not how monstrous he may be by nature. But if\nthou, O Khan, who art so comely of form and stature, didst put it on,\nthen would it be a sight to make one laugh indeed.\"\n\nAnd her words pleased the Khan. So he called the man aside into a\nsolitary place that the courtiers and people might not see what he did,\nand so become a laughing-stock to them. Then he made the man exchange\nhis costume of magpie's feathers against his royal attire and mantle,\nand went to dance before the Khanin, bidding the man take his place\nby her side.\n\nNo sooner, however, did the Khanin see him thus caught in her snare\nthan she returned with her own husband, habited in the Khan's royal\nhabiliments, to the palace. She also gave strict charge to her guard,\nsaying,--\n\n\"That juggler who was dancing just now upon the hill, dressed in\na fantastic costume of magpie's feathers, has the design of giving\nhimself out for being the Khan. Should he make the attempt, set dogs\n(3) on him and drive him forth out of the country. Of all things,\non peril of your lives, suffer him not to enter the palace.\"\n\nScarcely had she made an end of speaking and conducted her husband into\nthe palace, when the Khan appeared, still wearing the magpie costume,\nbecause the Khanin's husband had gone off with her, wearing his royal\nhabiliments, and would have made his way to his own apartments; but\nthe guards seeing him, and recognizing the man in the magpie disguise\nthe Khanin had designated, ordered him out.\n\nThe Khan asserted his khanship, and paid no heed to the guards;\nbut the more he strove to prove himself the Khan, the more were the\nguards convinced he was the man the Khanin had ordered them to eject,\nand they continued barring the way against him and preventing his\ningress. Then he grew angry and began to strive against them till they,\nwearied with his resistance, called out the dogs and set them on him.\n\nThe dogs, taking him for a monstrous wild bird, eagerly ran towards\nhim, so that he was forced to turn and flee that he might by any means\nsave his life. But the dogs were swifter than he and overtook him,\nand, springing upon him, tore him in pieces and devoured him.\n\nThus the husband of the Khanin became installed in all his governments\nand possessions.\n\nMoreover, that night there were born to the Khan four sons, who\nwere every one exceeding great rulers in Gambudv\u00eepa, even as the\nWhite Serpent-king, reigning over the white mother-o'-pearl shells,\nhad foretold.\n\nThe eldest of these four was renowned as the spiritual ruler of all\nIndia (4). In one night he translated all the sacred books into a\nthousand different languages for the use of devas and men, and in\none other night he erected a hundred thousand sacred temples all over\nhis dominions.\n\nThe brother next to him was endowed with all kinds of power and\nstrength in his earliest youth, and with every capacity. This Prince\nwas renowned as ruler of the Mongols by the name of Barin Tochedaktschi\nErdektu (5), for so expert and mighty was he in the use of the bow\nthat if he shot his arrow at four men standing side by side together,\nevery one of them was certain to fall to the earth, transfixed through\nthe centre of the heart.\n\nThe next brother raised up to himself a mighty host of a hundred\nthousand men by pulling out a single hair of his head, and he led\nthem forth to battle, and was known to the whole earth by the name\nof Gesser-Khan (6).\n\nThe fourth brother fitted out four caravans of merchandise all in one\nday, and sent them forth to the four quarters of heaven. By these\nmeans he obtained possession of the All-desire-supplying talisman,\nTschin-t\u00e2mani, and was Ruler of the Treasures of the earth, with the\ntitle of Barss-Irbiss (7), Shah of Persia.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCONCLUSION OF THE ADVENTURES OF THE WELL-AND-WISE-WALKING KHAN.\n\n\nThe Well-and-wise-walking Khan listened till the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr had made\nan end of speaking, but opened never his lips. Though he heaped up\nwonders upon wonders as a man heaps up faggots on a funeral pile,\nyet spake he never a word.\n\nTherefore the sack remained fast bound with the cord of a hundred\nthreads of different colours, nor could the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr find means to\nescape out of the same; but the Well-and-wise-walking Khan bore him\nalong to his journey's end, even to the feet of his great Master and\nTeacher N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una.\n\nAnd N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una took the mighty dead, even him endowed with perfection\nof capacity and fulness of power, and laid him up in the cool grove\non the shining mountain of Southern India, venerated by all men as\nthe Siddhitu-Altan even unto this day.\n\nBy this means also great prosperity crowned the whole land of\nGambudv\u00eepa. To all the men thereof were given knowledge and length\nof days. The laws were obeyed and religion honoured, and happiness\nhad her abode among them.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE SAGA OF ARDSCHI-BORDSCHI AND VIKRAM\u00c2DITJA'S THRONE.\n\n\nHISTORICAL NOTICE OF VIKRAM\u00c2DITJA.\n\n\nThe name of Vikram\u00e2ditja is a household word in the epic mythology of\nIndia; and freely it seems to have been adopted by or conferred upon\nthose who emulated the heroic acts of some first great bearer. But\nas the legendary chroniclers are more occupied with extolling the\nmerits of their favourites, than with establishing their place in\nthe page of history, it becomes a well-nigh impossible task for the\nmodern investigator to trace out and fix the times and seasons of\nall those who, either in fact or in fiction, have borne the name,\nor even to distinguish with certainty how many there have been,\nstill less, what are the peculiar deeds and attributes of each.\n\nA writer (1), who has examined painstakingly into the matter, tells\nus that the popular mind is only conscious of one Vikram\u00e2ditja,\nso that without troubling itself to consider the insufficiency of\none life to embrace all the aggregate of wonderful works it has\nto tell of him, it supposes him rather to have had a prolonged or\nrecurring existence as marvellous in itself as the events of which it\nis composed. On the other hand, he found that native writers made out\nthe number variously from four to nine, though he could not find that\nthey determined with precision the existence of more than two. An\nadditional difficulty arises from this, that the very distinctive\nsuper-appellations derived from their deeds by heroes bearing the\nname seem to have passed over to others along with the name itself;\nas, for instance, Gardabhar\u00e2pa = \"donkey-form,\" given to one of them\non account of his being temporarily transformed into a donkey by his\nfather; the name of Sakjaditja is similarly given indiscriminately\nto others who lived at different periods, though the origin of the\nword can only be found in an exploit of one of them, who with the\naid of Sh\u00easa, the serpent-god, destroyed an oppressor named S\u00e2kja\n(2). While the name Vikrama\u00e2ditja itself seems rather a descriptive\nappellation than a name, being composed of the two Sanskrit words,\nvikrama and \u00e2ditja--the sun, or bright exposition of heroic virtue.\n\nYou may form some idea of the uncertainty thus created if you imagine\nthe Roman historians to have been silent, and suppose, that nothing\nremained to us of the lives of the Emperors, for instance, but certain\npanegyrics of bards and traditions of the people, eked out by a little\nscanty assistance from inscriptions and coins, and unsystematic and\nuntrustworthy chronicles. You may then conceive, how with no fixed\ndates marked out for determining the period of the reign of each,\nand no literary criterion to distinguish incongruities, a fertile\nimagination, aiming rather at exciting admiration than conveying\ninformation, could run riot with the mass of the acts and adventures,\nthe victories and achievements of the whole number, because the names\nor titles of \"Augustus\" and \"C\u00e6sar\" could be applied to many or all.\n\nThere is also the further difficulty that the heroic myths of India\nhave travelled on from tribe to tribe, and from province to province\n(3), the character of the hero and his exploits incurring many\ntransformations and fresh identifications under the process (4).\n\nNot to go into the elaborate discussion which the intricate study\nof the Indian dynasties has called forth, it may suffice in this\nplace to observe that, in the absence of more regular records, the\ngreatest aid we have in arriving at some fixed knowledge of the\nevents of a remote age in India is derived from inscriptions and\ncoins (5). And, as a specimen of the thought and care that has been\nbrought to bear on the matter, to specify the interesting circumstance\nconnected with this particular instance, that the nearest approach to\na satisfactory determination of the date of the chief bearer of the\nname of Vikram\u00e2ditja that is likely to be attained has been arrived at\nfrom the observation of the influence of Greek art on the execution\nof certain of the coins (6) which have been preserved and collected,\nconnecting them with the period succeeding Alexander's invasion. A\ncareful collation of these specimens with the most authentic list\nof the kings has given tolerable authority for asserting that the\ndate of 57 B.C. may be assumed for the date of the first historic\n(7) Vikram\u00e2ditja, whose chief honour lies in having overcome and\nsuperseded the descendants of the foreign race of rulers who had been\nin possession of his native country before his time. In pursuing the\nhistory of his dynasty, however, the help so far afforded by the coins\nceases, and the only written records of him are the collections of\npopular fables of his deeds. Only one of these collections, and of\nthat the date is unknown, has any pretension to rank as history; and\neven this is full of wonders and manifest exaggerations. Its author,\nRavipati Gurum\u00fbrti by name, informs the reader, however, that he had\nbrought together and compared many Sanskrit manuscripts, and sifted\nmuch oral tradition in its compilation.\n\nAccording to this account, Vikram\u00e2ditja was the son of a Brahman named\nKandrasarman, the fourth son of Vishnusarman, inhabiting a city called\nVedan\u00e2r\u00e2janapura, a name not found in any other writer. Dissatisfied\nwith the ordinary occupations on which he was kept employed by\nhis parents, he ran away from home and after many adventures came\nto Uggajini, where he married the daughter of Dhvagak\u00eerti, the\nreigning sovereign of Mal\u00e2va (8). His son Vikram\u00e2ditja was the more\ncelebrated hero, and according to another MS. (quoted in W. Taylor's\nExamination of the Mackenzie MSS.) the former of these two was not\ncalled Vikram\u00e2ditja at all, but Govinda.\n\nFeeling an interior conviction of his great destiny, Vikram\u00e2ditja\n(the son) determined on obtaining supernatural aid in fulfilling it;\nand, with this view, he devoted himself to prayer and retirement, until\nhe had obtained an apparition of the goddess Kali, the chosen wife of\nShiva, who gave him the solemn promise that he should be invulnerable\nto all enemies with the exception of one who should be supernaturally\nborn; and that he should rejoice in a happy reign of a thousand years\n(9). By the shrewd advice of his half-brother Bhatti, whom he made\nhis minister, he contrived to obtain out of this promise double the\nlength of years actually named, for he arranged to reign for only six\nmonths at a time, spending six months in contemplation in the jungle,\nso that it took two thousand years to make up a thousand years' reign\n(10). In another account, he is made to reign 949 years; and, on the\nother hand, in another (11) only a hundred and six years.\n\nIt might have been expected that a people who raised themselves at\nso remote a period to a comparatively high degree of civilization,\nand in other departments of mental exertion distinguished themselves\nin so marked a manner, should of all things have possessed a copious\nhistorical literature, but there are other things to take into account\nwhich explain why the contrary is the case (12). A German writer\n(13) has put the case very summarily. \"Their religion,\" he says,\n\"has destroyed all history for the Hindus. They are taught to look\non life as a mere passing condition of probation and sorrow, and its\nincidents, consequently, as unworthy to be recorded.\" But this is\na hardly fair statement, and only true to a certain extent. Benfey\n(14) perhaps reaches nearer the mark when he says,--\"The life of man\nwas for them but a small portion of the immense divine life pervading\nthe whole universe. It lay, so to speak, rolled up in a fold of the\nmantle of the godhead. Viewed thus, history became a theme so vast that\nthe infinitesimal human element of it was lost to view. Theosophies,\nidealisms, allegories, myths, filled up the place of the record of the\ndoings of mortals.\" Troyer (15) takes nearly the same view, but further\ncalls attention to the influence exercised by the religious teaching\nconcerning re-births and transmigration of souls in working against\nhistory becoming a science. Historical characters lost their positive\nidentity, and the effect a man's acts under a previous existence\nwere taught to exercise on his fate diminished the responsibility\nand merit of, and consequently the interest in, his actions.\n\nTo arrive at a more exact view, however, it is necessary to\ndistinguish between the parts which Brahman and Buddhist teaching\nhave respectively to bear in the matter. The Brahmanical castes\nbecame subdivided into groups composed of many families, with no\ncommon founder, the preservation of whose name and deeds would have\nafforded an instigation to building up the materials of a national\nhistory. Only at a comparatively late period some traditions were\nkept up of the heads of these groups, but this in such a way as to\nserve rather to throw back attention on to the past and restrain it\nfrom the contemplation and record of contemporary events, Caste took\nthe place of country, and the interest of the individual was drawn\naway from national to local interest.\n\nNext, the history of the gods possessed a much higher importance in\ntheir eyes than that of the kings of the earth, while at the same\ntime the humanistic conception of their character rendered the myths\nconcerning them of a nature to clash with and supersede the records of\nearthly notabilities. Their wars and their loves and their undertakings\nwere indeed often superhuman in scale, but they were yet for the\nmost part no more exalted in nature, than the occupations of men. But\nfrom this habit of making their divinities actors in gigantic human\nincidents, their mind grew used to regard the marvellous and unreal as\npossible and true, and was at no pains to fix any data with exactness.\n\nThen their contemplative mode of life kept them out of actual contact\nwith what was going on in the world around them. Most Brahmans lived\nengrossed by the service of the temple, or else occupied with their\nfamilies or their disciples. Very few are the examples of their acting\nas ministers or judges, or taking any part in public life.\n\nFurther, many elements of history may be said to have scarcely\nexisted at all. All changes of manners and customs, all growth of\narts and sciences, were impeded by the appointment of fixed laws,\nand remained pretty much the same for long periods.\n\nAgain, the subdivision of the country into multitudinous governments,\nand the comparatively short duration of any large union of them\nunder one dynasty--as, for instance, the Maurja or the Gupta--further\nweakened any tendency to the formation of a national spirit. The best\npreserved attempts at history are those of Lank\u00e2 (Ceylon), Orissa,\nCashmere, the Dekhan, and other kingdoms or provinces which have\nall along preserved their identity. Where one country fell under\nthe empire of another its history naturally lapsed in that of the\nconquering state, or became altogether lost; and as such annexations\nwere mostly effected by violence, it is only to be expected that\nthe conqueror should discourage any thing that would keep up the\nmemory of the rulers he had superseded. The Chronicle of Cashmere,\ncalled the R\u00e2ga Taragin\u00ee, or \"Stream of Kings,\" is perhaps the best\nwritten. It was compiled by Kalhana Pandita, who lived, however, as\nlate as 1150 of our era, and is carried down to the year 1125. He\nappears to have laboured to make it as complete and reliable as\nthe vague and scattered materials at his disposal admitted; yet so\nlittle was even he capable of appreciating the value of accuracy,\nthat he ascribes to a reign (removed from his own date by no more\nremote period than 600 years) a length of 300 years. And this is\nbut a small fable by comparison with others of his statements. This\nChronicle possesses the peculiarity of being almost the only work of\nan historical nature compiled under Brahman influence.\n\nThe only work which has any pretension to universality in its scope\nis the Karn\u00e2taka R\u00e2gakula. But though it begins with an account of the\ncreation of the world and the incarnations of Vishnu, and narrates the\ndeeds of typical heroes like Pandarva and Vikram\u00e2ditja, it yet only\ncontains the history of the Dekhan, and is, after all, a modern work\nedited at the bidding of English rulers. The only earlier work of the\nsame character is one professing to give the general history of India\nfrom Ashokja to Prat\u00eetasena, written in the fourteenth century. This,\nhowever, is believed not to have been compiled by a native Indian,\nand is, at any rate, not the work of a Brahman, though possibly of\na Buddhist.\n\nIn the matter of historical compilation we have in general more to\nthank Buddhism than Brahmanism for. The simple S\u00fbtra, or colloquies\nof Sh\u00e2kjamuni with his disciples, written in masajja, a poetical\nprose pleasingly broken into a sort of cadence, themselves form\na kind of history of the country contained in this sort of memoir\nof its great religionist. The simple S\u00fbtra are of two classes. The\nfirst class consists of an account of Buddha's own wanderings and\npersonal dealings both with his disciples and others, and were probably\ncompiled (16) by the first great Sangha, or Synod, within 100 years\nafter his death (17), though bearing marks in many places of having\nbeen reconstructed at a later period. The other class takes notice\nof events and persons belonging to a subsequent period. Besides\nthese there are the M\u00e2haj\u00e2na-S\u00fbtra, a more detailed and developed\ncontinuation of the same species of chronicle, but bearing marks of\nhaving been compiled at a much more advanced date still, for they\nintroduce ideas which do not belong to the early teaching of Buddhism,\nbut to a very late development.\n\nThese writings possess great historical importance, but yet are by no\nmeans free from the faults of inaccuracy of date and arrangement; of\nidealizations of the persons treated of; the introduction of fabulous\nincidents, transmigrations, and such like. The very desire of the\nBuddhists to make their records more complete and useful than the\nBrahmans', often led to additional complications, because it induced\nall manner of interpolations--as for instance, whole series of kingly\npersonages, the account of whose lives is not even to be set down to\nthe exaggerations of ill-preserved tradition, but to pure fabrication\nof the imagination.\n\nMore reliance on the whole is to be placed on the great epic poems,\nand, chiefly, the Pur\u00e2na and Mah\u00e2 Bh\u00e2rata.\n\nThe works which we now find extant, with the title of Pur\u00e2na\n(ancient)--eighteen in number,--are, however, at best but the\nreproduction of six older compilations, either collected from the\nrecitations of S\u00fbtas (bards), or themselves reproductions of still\nolder compilations, which have probably perished for ever. They\ncontain pretty well all that is known concerning the origin, mode of\nlife, heroic deeds, and ways of theological thought, of those Indian\nnations who acknowledged either Vishnu or Shiva for their highest god;\nand traces are to be distinguished by which the statement of earlier\nand purer belief has been distorted or biassed according to the tenets\nof the later compiler.\n\nThe Mah\u00e2 Bh\u00e2rata concerns itself more exclusively with the deeds of the\ngods and heroes, and is itself often referred to in the Pur\u00e2nas. Both\nof them bear witness that it was the frequent custom, on occasions\nof great gatherings of the people for public sacrifices and popular\nfestivals, and also in the places of retirement of religious teachers\nround whom disciples gathered, that the stories of gods and heroes\nshould be sung or told, and eagerly listened to. Such stories were\ncollected into the Mah\u00e2 Bh\u00e2rata by Vj\u00e2sa = \"the Arranger\" (who also\noccupied himself with the recompilation of the V\u00eada), son of Satjavati\n= \"the truthful one,\" daughter to Vasu, king of Magadha. Vasu\nhad conferred great benefits on his subjects, and was held in\nproportionate honour. His great work was the construction of a canal,\nof which mythology has thus preserved the memory. The mountain-god,\nK\u00f4l\u00e2hola, fell in love with the stream-goddess, Shirktimat\u00ee. As she\nsported past the tower of K\u00eadi, he barred her further progress by here\ndamming her course with a mountain. Vasu saw her distress, and came to\nrescue her by striking the mountain with his foot, and thus delivering\nher from her imprisonment. The goddess in gratitude devoted her twin\nchildren to his service. He made her son the leader of his armies,\nand married her daughter Girik\u00e2, by whom he also had twins--a son,\nwhom he made king of Matsja; and a daughter, Satjavati, who, as we have\nseen, married the father of Yj\u00e2sa. This was the Rishi Par\u00e2sara who\nobtained for her the name of Gandha, and the corresponding character\nof \"sweet-scented,\" as heretofore, from the occupation to which she\nhad been devoted by her father of ferrying people across the Jamuna,\nshe had acquired a smell of fish. She is also called, Gandhahali =\n\"the sweet-scented dark one,\" which latter appellation is explained by\nthe story that she made Par\u00e2sara observe that the other Rishis were in\nthe habit of watching her from the other side of the river, on which\nhe constructed a mist to conceal her, or make her \"dark\" to them. Why\n\"the Arranger\" of legends should have \"the truthful one\" ascribed\nto him for his mother, is easy enough to see. Par\u00e2sra was reckoned\nhis father because he was the inventor of chronology, which ought to\nprecede any attempt to make chronicles out of traditions. The legend\nfurther says that Paras\u00e2ra made acquaintance with Satjavati while on\na pilgrimage, which may be taken as an embodiment of the fact that\nit was such gatherings which afforded opportunity for collecting Sagas.\n\nOf somewhat similar nature is the R\u00e2m\u00e2jana--a collection of Sagas\nconcerning Rama, sometimes called the brother, and sometimes an\nincarnation of Vishnu, but also containing stories of other gods,\nas well as a variety of quasi-religious episodes. While displaying\nthe usual exaggerations common to the Sagas of all nations, these\nIndian Sagas have one leading peculiarity in the frequent Avat\u00e2ra,\nor incorporation of Vishnu or Rama in the persons of their heroes (18).\n\nLassen (19) reckons both the Mah\u00e2 Bh\u00e2rata and the R\u00e2m\u00e2jana to have been\ncompiled about 300--50 B.C.; but it is impossible to fix the dates of\nany of them with absolute certainty. One theory for arriving at it\nis, that they possess strong inherent evidence of being Brahmanical\nproductions; and as they contain no allusion to so great an event as\nthe establishment of Buddhism, while they yet make allusions to certain\npredictions of the wane of Brahmanism (seemingly suggested by details\nof the mode of the sudden spread of the teaching of Sh\u00e2kjamuni), it\nmay be inferred that the latest date for their compilation (which in\nany case must have extended over a prolonged period) would be coeval\nwith the period of the greatest development in Central India of the\nlatter school.\n\nIt is evident, however, that none of these poems are of a nature\nto supply any sound basis for the historiographer. The very lists\nof the kings that they supply, carry with them inherent evidence of\nuntrustworthiness in the readiness with which recourse is had to the\nintroduction of supernatural means for supplying missing links in\nthe fabulous periods of their chronology.\n\nIn the tenth century and later, several Muhammedan writers undertook\nthe history of India; but they are very untrustworthy. For this\nplace, it may suffice to mention that, by the most important of them,\nVikram\u00e2ditja is made out to be a grandson of Porus, and his name\ntransformed into that of Barkamaris (20).\n\n\n\nI will now give you a specimen of what are considered the purely\nlegendary accounts of Vikram\u00e2ditja's origin, and you will see that\nthey are barely more extravagant than the historical one I have\nintroduced above (21).\n\nIn a jungle (22) situated between the rivers Subhramat\u00ee and Mahi,\nin Gurg\u00e2ramandala, lived the Rishi T\u00e2mralipta, who gave his daughter\nTamrasena for a wife to King Sadasvasena. They lived happily, and\nhad a family of six sons, but only one daughter, Madanrekh\u00e2. One day,\nwhen a servant of theirs named Devasarman was working in the forest,\nhe heard the voice of some invisible being speaking to him, and bidding\nhim go and demand for it the hand of Madanrekh\u00e2 in marriage. When\nhe hesitated, not daring to ask so great a matter of his master,\nthe voice threatened him with fearful penalties if he failed to obey\nits behest. As the voice continued day after day to admonish him, he\nat last begged his master to come and listen to it for himself; who,\nrecognizing it for that of King Gandharva, whom Indra had transformed\ninto an ass, he felt constrained to comply, and he accordingly bestowed\nhis daughter on him. Though proud of the alliance of so great a\nking as Gandharva, T\u00e2mrasena was nevertheless distressed that her\ndaughter's husband should wear so ungainly an appearance. What was\nher joy when she one day discovered that, whenever he went to visit\nher, he left his donkey's form outside the door, and appeared like\nother men. She was not slow to take advantage of the circumstance\nby burning the donkey's form: the spell was thus destroyed, and\nGandharva delivered from the operation of the curse. After a time\nthey had a son, whom Gandharva desired his wife to call Vikram\u00e2ditja,\ntelling her at the same time that her handmaid would also have a son,\nwho was to be called Bhartrihari, and who should devote himself to\nhis service. Having uttered these counsels, he went up to the deva's\nparadise. Meantime, Madanrekh\u00e2, having heard that her father designed\nto kill the infant, delivered it to the care of a gardener's wife, with\nthe charge to conceal it, and then put an end to her own life. The\ngardener's wife fled with the young prince to Uggajini, where he\npassed his youth. The incidents of the burning of a form temporarily\nlaid aside, of danger threatening the life of the infant, of a flight\nfrom his birthplace, and of a half-brother, in some way inferior to\nhimself, yet devoted to him, pervade, not only both these accounts,\nbut also the more detailed legend which is to follow in the text.\n\nWhile all this uncertainty surrounds the circumstances of\nVikram\u00e2ditja's birth, his mode of attaining the throne, and the\nextent and even the locality of his dominions, are narrated with\nequal diversity; while, though an important era still in use is\ndated from him, extending from 57 B.C. to 319 A.C. when commences the\nBallabhi-Gupta dynasty, the particular event by which he deserved so\ndistinguished a commemoration has been by no means determined with\ncertainty (23).\n\nIn a version of his story called Vikramakaritra, it is said simply,\nthat King Prasena of Uggajin\u00ee dying without heirs, Vikram\u00e2ditja\nwas chosen king (24). According to another, the last king of the\nGreco-Indian dynasty abdicated in his favour out of disgust with\nlife after the death of his wife. According to the legends a Vet\u00e2la\n(25) obtained possession of the throne and every night strangled\nthe king, who had been raised to it in the course of the day by the\nministers, until Vikram\u00e2ditja undertook to maintain himself in power,\nand succeeded in propitiating the Vet\u00e2la. It is easy to read under\ncover of this imagery the original fact of a hero delivering his\npeople from an oppressor.\n\nWhat people or country it was that Vikram\u00e2ditja delivered is difficult\nto decide, as he is named in the sagas of many nations as belonging\nto each (26). We have already seen him seated king in the capital\nof Malwa. The more legendary accounts ascribe to him the widest\nrange of dominion. In the Ganamegaja-R\u00e2gavans\u00e2vali (27) we find him\nin possession of Bengal, Hindostan, the Dekhan, and Western India;\nand in the Bhogaprabandha (28) he is reckoned conqueror of the whole\nof India; while in the Bhavishja-Pur\u00e2na (29) it is told that he\nhad 800 kings tributaries under him, though whether the list could\nbe authentically made out is more than questionable. What can be\nproved with some certainty is, that he reigned over Malwa, Cashmere,\nand Orissa, from which it may perhaps be inferred that he was also\nmaster of the intervening country--namely, the Punjaub and the eastern\nportion of Rajputana (30).\n\nBesides his glories as a warrior and deliverer of his country, the\nhonour is also ascribed to him of being the patron of science and\nart. There is reason to think he promoted the study of architecture,\nthough no monuments actually remain which can with certainty be\nascribed to his reign. He attracted to his court the most distinguished\npoets and learned men of his epoch, and an obscure poem concerning\nnine jewels said to have adorned his throne is generally understood\nto represent the votaries of a certain cycle of the arts and sciences\nwhom he had under his protection. It is true some of those he is said\nto have protected are found to have actually lived at a subsequent\nperiod; but this is only one of the chronological inaccuracies to which\nI have already adverted as so common--the fact remains that he did\nactually promote the pursuit of letters, not only on the testimony\nof these exaggerated accounts, but also in the improvement which\nmay be observed from his time forward in the condition of public\nmuniments. One of the most fantastic stories about him, in which\n(31) Indra defers to him to decide between the respective claims to\nperfection in dancing of two apsarasas, or nymphs, shows at least that\nhe was considered an authority in matters of taste. The oldest Sanskrit\ndictionary extant is reckoned the work of Amarasinha, or Amaradeva,\nhis minister, and one of the six of the above-named nine jewels who are\nbelieved to have had an historical existence (32); in this dictionary\nthe Ram and the Bull of the Zodiac are mentioned in such a way that it\nmay be inferred he was familiar with the present nomenclature of the\ntwelve signs, giving support to the theory that the Greeks received\nthat terminology from the Chaldees, and did not originate it, as was\nlong supposed (33). An inscription found at Buddha-Gaja, and copied\nby Wilmot in the year 1783, is preserved in As. Res. i. 284, though\nthe original stone has since been lost, in which a curious legend\nis told of him, showing that as early as A.D. 948 (fixed by experts\nfor the date of the inscription) an undisputed tradition taught that\nthe oldest Sanskrit dictionary was written by one of the nine jewels\nof Vikram\u00e2ditja's throne. This legend says, \"This Amaradeva, one of\nthe nine jewels of Vikram\u00e2ditja's throne, and his first minister,\nwas a man of great talent and learning. Once, when on a journey, this\nfamous man found in the uninhabited forest the place where Vishnu was\nincarnate in the person of Buddha. Here, therefore, he determined to\nremain in prayer till Buddha should show himself to him. At the end\nof twelve years of austerities he heard a voice calling to him and\nasking what he desired. On his reply that he desired the god should\nappear to him, he was told that in the then degenerate condition of\nthe world such a favour was impossible; but that he might set up an\nimage of him, which would answer the same purpose as an apparition. In\nconsequence of this communication he erected a stately temple, which\nhe furnished with images of Vishnu and his avatars, or incarnations,\nP\u00e2ndava, Brahma, Buddha, and the rest.\n\nOne of the earliest dramatists of India, K\u00e2lid\u00e2sa, many of whose\nplays possess great literary merit,--though some ascribed to him are\nmanifestly by inferior hands,--may have been, it is thought, one of\nthose who wrote under Vikram\u00e2ditja's protection. In a play called\nMaghad\u00fbta, he describes his capital of Uggajini with an enthusiasm\nwhich suggests it was his own favourite place of residence. His plays\ncontain valuable pictures of the manners of the times. And from\nthese, among other details, it appears it was not only considered\nan indispensable qualification of a well-bred man, that he should be\nconversant with the great heroic poems, but that they were commonly in\nthe mouth of the people also. Other details imply the attainment of a\ndegree of civilization and refinement, which it would probably surprise\nmost of us to find existing at this date. His two most meritorious\npieces are entitled Abhignana-Shukuntal\u00e2 (\"The finding of Shukuntal\u00e2\"),\nand Vikramorvashi-Urvashi (\"Urvashi won by Heroism.\") We have\nalso three hundred short poems by Vikram\u00e2ditja's brother or by some\ncourtier poet who gave him the honour of the composition; these poems\ndisplay unusual powers of description and delicacy of sentiment. The\nfirst shataka, or hundred poems, is entitled shring\u00e2ra, containing\nlove-songs; the second, niti, on the government of the world; and the\nthird, vair\u00e2gja, the suppression of human passions. It is probable\nthat the writer of a justly celebrated drama named Mrikkhakatika,\nwhose name has been merged in that of King Sh\u00fbdraka, King of Bidisha\n(now Bhilsa), his patron to whose pen he modestly ascribed his work,\nlived also not long after this time.\n\nThe length of Vikram\u00e2ditja's reign is as difficult to fix as any other\ncircumstance of his history, and it is not clear whether the \u00e6ra which\ndates from him was originally reckoned from the commencement or the end\nof his reign; we have already seen the duration which fable ascribes\nto it; to this may be added the further fabled promise which, it is\ntold, the great gods Vishnu and Shiva made concerning him, that he\nshould come back to earth in the latter times to deliver his people\nfrom the oppression of the Mussulman invaders, just as the Mongols\nexpect Ghengis Khan and Timour (34), and just as in Europe similar\npromises of a future return as a deliverer linger round the memories\nof King Arthur, Charlemagne, and Frederick Barbarossa.\n\nThe legend of the Wisdom of Vikram\u00e2ditja being so mysteriously\nconnected with his throne, that whosoever sat on it was endowed with\nsome measure of his excellences; and that the figures with which it\nwas adorned guarded it from the approach of the unworthy, is brought\nforward in the story of more than one Indian sovereign. Travelling\nin the wake of Buddhist literature, the myth came to the far East,\nwhere Mongolian bards have worked out of it a saga connected with\none of their own rulers (35), with such variations in the treatment\nas might be expected at their hands.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE SAGA OF ARDSCHI-BORDSCHI AND VIKRAM\u00c2DITJA'S THRONE.\n\n\nTHE BOY-KING.\n\n\nLong ages ago there lived a mighty king called Ardschi-Bordschi (1).\n\nIn the neighbourhood of his residence was a hill where the boys who\nwere tending the calves were wont to pass away the time by racing\nup and down. But they had also another custom, and it was, that\nwhichever of them won the race was king for the day--an ordinary game\nenough, only that when it was played in this place the Boy-king thus\nconstituted was at once endowed with such extraordinary importance\nand majesty that every one was constrained to treat him as a real\nking. He had not only ministers and dignitaries among his playfellows,\nwho prostrated themselves before him and fulfilled all his behests,\nbut whoever passed that way could not choose but pay him homage also.\n\nAt last the report of the matter filled all the land, and came also\nto the ears of the King himself.\n\nArdschi-Bordschi had the whole matter exposed before him, and he\ninquired into all the manners and ways of the boys; then he said,--\n\n\"If this thing happened every day to one and the same boy, then would\nI acknowledge in him a Bodhisattva (2); but as every day a different\nboy may win the race, and it would seem that whichever of them is\ncalled king is clothed with equal majesty, it appears manifestly to\nme that the virtue is not in the boy, but in the hill of which he\nmakes his throne.\"\n\nNevertheless the matter troubled the King, and he desired above all\nthings to obtain some certain knowledge concerning it, not seeing\nhow to search it out.\n\n\n\nTHE FALSE FRIEND (1)\n\nIn the meantime, it had come to pass that one of Ardschi-Bordschi's\nsubjects had gone out over the sea to search for precious stones. Being\ndetained on his journey beyond the allotted time, he was desirous of\nmaking provision for his wife and children whom he had left behind,\nand, finding that a friend of his company purposed to return home,\nhe trusted to him one of the jewels of which he had become possessed,\nsaying, \"When thou comest to the place, deliver this jewel into the\nhands of my wife, that she may be provided withal until the time of\nmy return. The man, however, sold the jewel and spent the proceeds\non his own purposes. When, therefore, the jewel-merchant came home,\nhe inquired of his wife, saying, \"By a man named Ds\u00fck I sent unto\nyou a jewel so-and-so;\" and when he learnt of his wife that the man\nhad brought no jewel, he took the matter before the King. The King\ncommanded the man called Ds\u00fck to be brought before him. But the man\nhaving got wind that he would have to appear before the King to be\njudged for the matter, he gave presents to two chief men of the court,\nand agreed with them, saying, \"You will stand witness for me that in\npresence of you two I delivered the jewel to the man's wife (2).\"\n\nWhen, therefore, they were all before the King, the King spoke to the\nman named Ds\u00fck, saying, \"Did you, or did you not, give the jewel to\nthe man's wife?\" And he boldly made answer, \"In presence of these two\nwitnesses I delivered the jewel to her;\" while the two great men of\nthe court stood forward and deposed, they also, \"Yea, O King! even\nin our presence he delivered over the jewel.\"\n\nAs the King could not gainsay the word of the witnesses, he decided the\ncase according to their testimony, and the man named Ds\u00fck was released\nand went away to his home rejoicing at having been so successful in\nhis stratagem to deceive the King, and the two great men of the court\nand the jewel-merchant went down every one to his home.\n\nIt so happened, however, that their way home lay past the hill where\nthe Boy-king sat enthroned. Now as they passed by, the four together,\nthe Boy-king sent and called them into his presence, nor could they\nfail of compliance with his word.\n\nWhen they had paid him their obeisance, bowing themselves many times\nbefore him, the Boy-king, rising in his majesty, thus spoke,--\n\n\"The decision of your King is hasty, and can never stand. I will\njudge your cause. Do you promise to abide by my decision?\"\n\nBut the majesty of the Boy-king was upon him, and they could not\nchoose but accept.\n\nThe Boy-king therefore set the four men apart in four several places,\nand to each one of them he gave a lump of clay, saying, \"Fashion this\nlump of clay like to the form of the jewel which was sent.\"\n\nWhen they had all finished the task, it was found that the model of\nthe man who sent the jewel and that of the man who was the bearer\nof it were alike; but the two great men of the court, who had never\nseen the jewel, were thrown into great embarrassment by this means,\nand their models were neither like those of the sender and bearer,\nnor were they like each other's.\n\nWhen the Boy-king saw this he thus pronounced judgment:--\n\n\"Because both these men saw and knew the jewel, they could make its\nimage in clay; but it is manifest the two witnesses have never seen\nthe jewel, but have made up their minds to deceive the King by false\ntestimony. Such conduct is most unworthy of all in great men of the\nKing's court.\"\n\nThen he ordered the two false witnesses and the man named Ds\u00fck to\nbe secured and taken to the King, all three confessing their crime;\nand he sent with them this declaration, written in due form of law:--\n\n\"According to the principles of earthly might and the sacred maxims of\nreligion hast thou not decided. O Ardschi-Bordschi! thus should not\nan upright and noble ruler deal. Unless it is given thee to discern\ngood from evil, truth from falsehood, it were better thou shouldst\nlay aside thy kingly dignity. But if thou desirest to remain king,\nthen judge nothing without duly investigating the matter, even as I.\"\n\nWith such a letter the Boy-king sent the prisoners to Ardschi-Bordschi.\n\nWhen the King read the letter, he exclaimed, \"What manner of boy is\nthis who writes thus to the King? He must be a being highly endowed\nwith wisdom. If it was the same boy who appeared every day so gifted,\nI should hold him to be a Bodhisattva, or indeed a very Buddha; but\nas on different days different boys attain to the same sagacity,\nthe source must remain one and the same for all. Shall it not be\nthat in the foundations of their hill or mound is some stupa (3),\nwhere Buddhas or Bodhisattvas have propounded sacred teaching to\nmen? Or shall it be that there lies hidden therein some jewel (4),\ngifted to impart wisdom to mortals? In some such way, of a certainty,\nthe spot is endowed with singular gifts.\"\n\nThus he spoke, and concluded the affair of the jewel in accordance\nwith the Boy-king's judgment, delivering the two witnesses over to\npunishment, and condemning the man named Ds\u00fck to pay double the value\nof the jewel to the merchant whom he had defrauded.\n\n\n\nTHE PRETENDED SON.\n\nKing Ardschi-Bordschi's minister had one only son. This son went out\nto the wars, and returned home again after two years' absence. Just\nwhile the minister was engaged with preparations for a festival of\njoy to celebrate the return of his son, there appeared before him\nsuddenly another son in all respects exactly like his own. In form,\ncolour, and gait there was no sort of difference to be discerned\nbetween them. Moreover, the horses they rode, their clothing, their\nquivers, their mode of speech, were so perfectly similar that none\nof the minister's friends, nor the very mother of the young man,\nnor yet his wife herself, could take upon them to decide which of\nthe two was his very son.\n\nIt was not very long before there was open feud in the house between\nthe two; both youths declaring with equal energy and determination,\n\"These are my parents, my wife, my children....\" Finding the case\nquite beyond his own capacity to decide the minister brought the whole\nbefore the King. As the King found himself similarly embarrassed\nhe sent and called all the relations; and to the mother he said,\n\"Which of these two is your son?\" and to the wife, \"Which of these\ntwo is your husband?\" and to the children, \"Which of these two is\nyour father?\" But they all answered with one consent, \"We are not in\na condition to decide, for no man can tell which is which.\"\n\nThen King Ardschi-Bordschi thought within himself, \"How shall I\ndo to bring this matter to an end? It is clear not even the man's\nnearest relations can tell which of these two is the right man;\nhow then can I, who never saw either of them before? Yet if I let\nthem go without deciding the matter, the Boy-king will send and tell\nme I am not gifted to discern the true from the false, and counsel\nme before all the people to lay aside my kingly dignity. Now then,\ntherefore, let us prove the matter even as the Boy-king would have\nit proved. We will call the men hither before us, and will examine\nthem concerning their family and ancestors; he that is really the\nman's son will know the names of his generations, but he that merely\npretendeth, shall he not be a stranger to these things?\" So he sent\nand called the men before him again separately and inquired of them,\nsaying, \"Tell me now the names of thy father, and grandfather, and\ngreat-grandfather up to the earliest times, so shall I distinguish\nwhich of you is really this man's son.\" But the one of them who had\ncome the last from the wars, was no man but a Schimnu (1), who had\ntaken the son's form to deceive his parents, he by his demoniacal\nknowledge could answer all these things so that the very father was\nastonished to hear him, while the real son could go no farther back\nthan to give the name of his grandfather.\n\nWhen Ardschi-Bordschi therefore found how much the Schimnu exceeded\nthe real son in knowledge of his family, he pronounced that he was\nthe rightful son, and the wife and parents and friends and all the\npeople praised the sagacity of the king in settling the matter.\n\nThus the Schimnu was taken home with joy in the midst of the gathering\nof the family, and the real son not knowing whither to betake himself,\nfollowed afar off, mourning as he went.\n\nIt so happened that their homeward way lay past the mound, where the\nBoy-king sat enthroned, who, hearing the feet of many people, and the\nvoice of the minister's son wailing behind, called them all unto him,\nnor could they fail of compliance with the word of the Boy-king in\nhis majesty.\n\nWhen they had paid him their obeisance, bowing themselves many times\nbefore him, the Boy-king, rising in his majesty, thus spoke:--\n\n\"The decision of your King is hasty, and can never stand. I will\njudge your cause. Do you promise to abide by my decision?\"\n\nThen they could not choose but accept; and he made them state their\nwhole case before him, and explain how Ardschi-Bordschi had decided,\nwhich when he had heard, he said,--\n\n\"I will set you the proof of whether of you two is the rightful son;\nlet there be brought me hither a water-jug.\" And one of the boys who\nstood in waiting that day upon the Boy-king's throne, ran and fetched\na water-jug, holding in measure about a pint.\n\nWhen he had brought it, the Boy-king ordered him to place it before\nthe throne; then said he, \"Let me see now whether of you two can enter\ninto this water-jug; then shall we know which is the rightful son.\"\n\nThen the rightful son turned away sorrowful and mourned more than\nbefore, \"For,\" said he, \"how should I ever find place for so much as\nmy foot in this water-jug?\"\n\nBut the Schimnu, by his demoniacal power easily transformed himself,\nand entered the jug.\n\nThe Boy-king, therefore, no sooner saw him enclosed in the water-jug,\nthan he bound him fast within it by sealing the mouth with the\ndiamond-seal, which he might not pass (2), undismayed by the appalling\nhowling with which the Schimnu rent the air, at finding himself thus\ntaken captive.\n\nThus bound he sent him back to Ardschi-Bordschi, together with all\nthe family concerned in the case, and with them this declaration\nwritten in due form of law:--\n\n\"According to the principles of earthly might, and the sacred maxims\nof religion hast thou not decided, O Ardschi-Bordschi! Thus should\nnot an upright and noble ruler deal. The wife and children of thine\nown subject hast thou given over to the power of a wicked Schimnu;\nand sent the rightful and innocent away lamenting. Unless it is given\nthee to discern good from evil, truth from falsehood, it were better\nthou shouldst lay aside thy kingly dignity. But if thou desirest to\nremain king, then judge nothing without duly investigating the matter\neven as I.\"\n\nWith such a letter the Boy-king sent the men back to Ardschi-Bordschi.\n\nWhen the King read the letter, he exclaimed, \"What manner of boy is\nthis, who writes thus to the King? He must be a being highly endowed\nwith wisdom. If it was the same boy who appeared every day so gifted,\nI should hold him to be a Bodhisattva or indeed a very Buddha; but\nas on different days different boys attain to the same sagacity, the\nsource must remain one and the same for all. Shall it not be that\non the foundations of this hill or mound is a stupa, where Buddhas\nor Bodhisattvas have propounded sacred teaching to men. Or shall it\nbe that there lies hidden therein some treasure gifted to impart\nwisdom to mortals? In some way of a certainty the spot is endowed\nwith singular gifts.\"\n\nThus he spoke; and concluded the affair of the two sons in accordance\nwith the Boy-king's judgment, giving over the rightful one to his\nfamily, and delivering the Schimnu to be burned.\n\n\n\nARDSCHI-BORDSCHI DISCOVERS VIKRAM\u00c2DITJA'S THRONE.\n\nArdschi-Bordschi could not rest, because of this matter of the\nBoy-king. \"For,\" said he, \"if there is in my dominions a stupa where\nso great wisdom is to be acquired, is it not to the King that it\nshould belong, that he may rule the people with sagacity? Let Us at\nleast see this thing, and perhaps We may discover what is the source\nof the prodigy.\"\n\nVery early in the morning, therefore, he arose, and calling all his\nministers, and counsellors, and all the great men of his court to\nhim, he went forth to the mound, and there he found all even as it\nhad been told him. There were the boys tending the calves; and when\nthey had leisure to play, they all ran a race over the hill, and he\nwho won the race was installed king on top of the mound, the other\nboys paying him homage, and making obeisance to him as to a real king.\n\nThen the most mighty king, even Ardschi-Bordschi himself, propounded\nthe question to the Boy-king, saying, \"Tell us whence is it that\nthou, who art only a boy and a herd of the calves, hast this wisdom,\nsurpassing the wisdom of the King. The wisdom by which it is given\nthee to discern between right and wrong, truth and falsehood, shall\nit not also tell thee what is the source of this prodigy?\"\n\nThen the Boy-king, rising in his majesty, made answer,--\n\n\"Let the King cause labourers to be fetched, and let them dig under\nthis mound, from the time of the rising of the sun even until the\nsetting thereof again; thus shall it be found whence ariseth the\nprodigy.\"\n\nWith these words the Boy-king came down from the mound, and\nArdschi-Bordschi caused labourers to be fetched, and they began\ndigging at the mound as the sun rose above the mountains, and ceased\nnot till the setting thereof again; but then they came upon a throne\nof gold, all dazzling with brightness, and by its light (1) they went\non working through the night, till the whole was delivered from its\ncovering of earth. So great was its splendour when the morning sun\nrose upon it again, that all beholders were struck with awe, and the\npeople prostrated themselves before it.\n\nArdschi-Bordschi was filled with surpassing joy when he saw it, for\nnow he saw he had attained the desired seat of wisdom, by means of\nwhich he should rule his people aright (2).\n\nHeading a procession of all that was great and noble in his\nrealm, he had the throne brought, amid many ceremonies, to his\nown residence. Then having called the wise men of the kingdom, and\ninquired of them a lucky day, he summoned a great gathering of all\nhis subjects, to attend his mounting of this throne of prodigy, amid\nsinging, and offering of incense, and sounding of trumpet-shells (3).\n\nThe throne, which had been set up in his dwelling, meantime, was all\nof pure and shining gold. The foundation of it rested on four terrible\nlions of gold; and it was reached by sixteen steps of precious stones,\non every one of which were two figures of cunning workmanship--the\none a warrior, the other a S\u00fbta (4)--sculptured in wood, standing to\nguard the approach thereof. No such beautiful work had ever before\nbeen seen in all the dominions of Ardschi-Bordschi.\n\nWhen therefore the ministers and people were all arranged in order of\nrank, and a great silence had been proclaimed on the shell-trumpets,\nthe King, habited in raiment of state, proceeded to mount the throne.\n\nEre he had set foot on the lowest step, however, the two figures\nof sculptured wood that stood upon it, abandoning their guardant\nattitude, suddenly came forward, and placed themselves before him,\nas in defiance--the warrior striking him in the breast, while the\nS\u00fbta addressed him thus:--\n\n\"Surely, O Ardschi-Bordschi! it is not in earnest that thou art minded\nto ascend the steps of this sacred throne?\" And all the thirty-two\nsculptured figures answered together,--\n\n\"Halt! O Ardschi-Bordschi!\"\n\nBut the S\u00fbta proceeded,--\n\n\"Knowest thou not, O Ardschi-Bordschi, that this throne in the days\nof old was the seat of the god Churmusta, and that after him it was\ngiven to none to set upon it, till Vikram\u00e2ditja rose. Wherefore,\nO Ardschi-Bordschi, approach not to occupy it. Unless thou also art\nprepared to devote thy days, not to thine own pleasure, but to the\nservice of the six classes of living beings (5), renounce the attempt\nto set foot on it.\" And all the thirty-two sculptured figures answered\ntogether,--\n\n\"Halt! O Ardschi-Bordschi!\"\n\nBut the S\u00fbta proceeded,--\n\n\"Art thou such a king as the great Vikram\u00e2ditja? then come and sit\nupon his throne; but if not, then desist from the attempt.\" And all\nthe thirty-two sculptured figures answered together,--\n\n\"Halt! O Ardschi-Bordschi!\"\n\nWhen they cried the third time, \"Halt! O Ardschi-Bordschi!\" the King\nhimself, and all who stood there with him, fell on their faces before\nthe throne, and worshipped it.\n\nThen spoke another S\u00fbta,--\n\n\"Listen, O Ardschi-Bordschi, and all ye people give ear, and I will\ntell you out of the days of old what manner of king was the hero\nVikram\u00e2ditja.\"\n\n\n\nTHE S\u00dbTA TELLS ARDSCHI-BORDSCHI CONCERNING VIKRAM\u00c2DITJA'S BIRTH.\n\nLong ages ago there lived a King named Gandharva. To him was wedded\nUdsessk\u00fclengtu-G\u00f4a-Chatun (1), the all-charming daughter of the mighty\nking Galindari.\n\nGandharva was a noble King, and ruled the world with justice and\npiety. Nevertheless Gandharva had no heir, though he prayed continually\nto Buddha that he might have a son. And as he thus prayed and mourned\ncontinually, Udsessk\u00fclengtu-G\u00f4a came to him one day, and said, \"My\nlord, since thou art thus grieved at heart because no heir is given\nto us, take now unto thee another wife, even a wife from among thy\npeople, and perhaps so shalt thou be blessed with succession to the\nthrone.\" And her words pleased the King, and he chose a wife of low\ndegree, and married her, and in due time she bore him a son.\n\nBut when Udsessk\u00fclengtu-G\u00f4a, the all-charming one, saw that the heart\nof the King was taken from her, and given to the wife of low degree,\nbecause she had borne him a son, while she was less favoured by heaven,\nshe was grieved in spirit, and said within herself, \"What shall I\ndo now that the heart of my lord is taken from me? Was it not by my\nfather's aid that he attained the throne? And was it not even by my\nadvice that he took this wife who has borne him a son? And yet his\nheart is taken from me.\" Nevertheless she complained not to him,\nbut mourned by herself apart.\n\nThen one of her maidens, when she saw her thus mourning apart, came to\nher, and said, \"Is there not living by the kaitja (2), on the other\nside of the mountain, a lama, possessed of prodigious powers? Who\nshall say but that he might find a remedy for the grief of the Khan's\nwife.\" And Udsessk\u00fclengtu-G\u00f4a listened to the maiden's words, and\nleaving off from mourning, she rose, and called to her four of the\nmaidens, and prepared her to make the journey to visit the holy man\nat the kaitja, on the other side the mountain, taking with her good\nprovision of tea (3) and other things needful for the journey.\n\nArrived at the kaitja, she made the usual obeisance, and would\nhave opened her suit; but the hermit was at that moment sunk in his\nmeditations, and paid her no heed until she had three times changed\n(4) her place of kneeling. Then he said, \"Exalted Queen! what grief or\nwhat necessity brings thee hither to this kaitja thus devoutly?\" And\nwhen she had told him all her story, he replied,--\n\n\"Mayst thou be blessed with succession to the throne and with many\nchildren to gladden thee.\" At the same time he gave her a handful\nof earth, bidding her boil it in oil--sesame oil (5)--in a porcelain\nvessel, and eat it all up.\n\nThe Queen returned home, and, believing in the promise of the hermit,\nshe boiled the earth in sesame oil in a new porcelain vessel, when\nbehold it was changed into barley porridge; but she neglected to eat\nup the whole of it. Some time after the maiden who had counselled the\nvisit to the hermit, seeing that some of the porridge still remained\nin the porcelain vessel, she also ate of it, saying, \"Who knows what\nblessing it may bring to me also?\"\n\nMany months had not passed when all manner of propitious tokens\nappeared upon the land. Showers of brilliant blossoms fell in place\nof rain from heaven, the melodious voice of the kalavinka (6) made\nitself heard, and delicious perfumes filled the air. In the midst of\nthis rejoicing of nature the Queen bore the King a son.\n\nThe gladness of the King knew no bounds that now he had an heir to the\nthrone who was born of a princess and not of a wife of low degree, and\nhe ordered public rejoicings throughout the whole kingdom. Further, in\nhis joy he sent an expedition, with the younger wife at its head, and\nmany great men of state, to go to the lama of the kaitja, on the other\nside of the mountain, and learn what should be the fate of the child.\n\nWhen they came to him he was again sunk in his meditations; but\nwhen they had opened their matter to him, almost without looking up,\nhe replied,--\n\n\"Tell the King your master that there be got ready for the child\nagainst he grow up fifteen thousand waggon-loads of salt, for that\nwill be but small compared with what will be required for the use of\nhis kitchen.\"\n\nWith such a message the expedition returned to the King.\n\nWhen Gandharva heard the prognostics of the hermit, he was struck with\nastonishment, and with indignation against the child, not understanding\nthe intention of the words. Then he called together the people and\nannounced the thing to them, adding these words, \"Of a truth the\nchild must be a hundredfold a schimnu; how could a man use fifteen\nthousand waggon-loads of salt for the seasoning of his food? It is\nnot good for such an one to live. Let him be taken forth and slain!\"\n\nBut his ministers interceded with him and said, \"Nay, shall the son\nof the King and the heir to his royal throne be slain? Shall we not\nrather take him to some solitary place and leave him to his fate in\na thick wood?\"\n\nAnd the King found their words good; so two of his ministers took\nthe child a long way off to a solitary place, and left him exposed\nin a thick wood. But as they turned to go away, and one of them yet\nlingered, the child called after him, saying,--\n\n\"Wait a little space, sir minister; I have a word to say to you!\"\n\nAnd the minister stood still in great astonishment. But the child said,\n\"Bear these words faithfully unto the King:--\n\n\"It is said that when the young of the peacock are first fledged their\nfeathers are all of one blue colour, but afterwards, as they increase\nin proportions, their plumage assumes the splendid hues admired by\nmen. Even so when a King's son is born. For a while he remains under\nthe tutelage of his parents; but if, when he has come to man's estate,\nhe would be a great king, worthy to be called king of the four parts\nof the universe (7), it will behove him to call together the princes\nof the four parts of the universe to a great assemblage and prepare\nfor them a sacred festival (8), at which such may be their number who\nmay come together to honour it, that fifteen thousand waggon-loads\nof salt may even fall short of what is required!\n\n\"So the parrots, when they first break through their egg-shell, appear\nvery much like any other birds, but when they are full grown they learn\nthe speech of man and grow in sagacity and wisdom (9). Even so when a\nKing's son is born. For a while he remains under the tutelage of his\nparents; but when he comes to man's estate, if he would be a mighty\nking, worthy of being called king of the four parts of the universe,\nit will behove him to call together all kings and devas and princes of\nthe earth, with all the countless Bodhisattvas, and all the priests\nof religion, and prepare for them a great religious banquet. At such\na banquet it is well if fifteen thousand waggon-loads of salt suffice\nfor the seasoning. This for your King.\"\n\nThe minister took the message of the child word for word to the\nGandharva, who when he heard it clasped his hands in agony and rose\nup, saying,--\n\n\"What is this that I have done! Of a certainty the child was a\nBodhisattva (10). But it is the truth that what I did to him I did in\nignorance. Run now swiftly and fetch me back my son.\" The minister\ntherefore set out on his way without stopping to take breath; but\nwhat haste soever he made the King's eagerness was greater, and at\nthe head of a great body of the people Gandharva himself took his way\nin all speed to the place in the thick grove where they had laid the\nchild. And since he did not find him at the first, he broke out into\nloud lamentations, saying,--\n\n\"0 thou, mine own Bodhisattva! who so young yet speakest words of\nwisdom, even young as thou art exercise also mercy and forgiveness. O\nhow was I mistaken in thee! Set it not down to me that I knew thee\nnot!\"\n\nWhile he wandered about searching and thus lamenting, the cry of\na child made itself heard from the depths of a grotto there was in\nthe grove, which when the King had entered he found eight princes\nof the serpent-gods (11) busy tending the child. Some had woven for\nhim a covering of lotus-blossoms; others were dropping honey into\nhis mouth; others were on their knees, bowing their foreheads to the\nground before him. Thus he saw them engaged, only when he entered the\ncave they all at once disappeared without leaving a trace behind (12).\n\nThen the King laid the child on a litter borne by eight principal\nmen, and amid continual lamenting of his fault, saying, \"O my son,\nBodhisattva, be merciful; I indeed am thy father,\" he brought him to\nhis dwelling, where he proclaimed him before all the people the most\nhigh and mighty Prince Vikram\u00e2ditja.\n\n\n\nWhen the S\u00fbta had concluded this narrative, he turned to\nArdschi-Bordschi and said,--\n\n\"Thus was Vikram\u00e2ditja wise in his earliest youth; thus even in infancy\nhe earned the homage of his own father; thus was he innately great\nand lofty and full of majesty. If thou, O Ardschi-Bordschi! art thus\nnobly born, thus indwelt with power and might, then come and mount this\nthrone; but, if otherwise, then on thy peril desist from the attempt.\"\n\nThen Ardschi-Bordschi once more approached to ascend the throne; but\nas he did so two other of the sculptured figures, relinquishing their\nguardant attitude, stood forward to bar the way, the warrior-figure\nstriking him on the breast, and the S\u00fbta thus addressing him,--\n\n\"Halt! O Ardschi-Bordschi! as yet hast thou but heard the manner of\nthe wonderful birth of Vikram\u00e2ditja; as yet knowest thou not what\nwas the manner of his youth.\"\n\nAnd all the thirty-two sculptured figures answered and said,--\n\n\"Halt! O Ardschi-Bordschi!\"\n\nBut the S\u00fbta continued, saying, \"Hearken, O Ardschi-Bordschi! and\nye, O people, give ear, and I will tell you out of the days of old\nconcerning the youth of Vikram\u00e2ditja.\n\n\n\nTHE S\u00dbTA TELLS ARDSCHI-BORDSCHI CONCERNING VIKRAM\u00c2DITJA'S YOUTH.\n\nGandharva, the hero's father, was himself also a mighty man of valour,\nand a prince devoting himself to the well-being of his people. He not\nonly carried on wars against the enemies of his country, but exerted\nhimself to the utmost to deliver his subjects from the onslaught of\nthe wicked Schimnus.\n\nOne day, therefore, he went forth alone to do battle with a prince of\nthe Schimnus; and in order that he might be in a condition the better\nadapted to match him, he left his body behind him, under shadow of\nan image of Buddha. His younger wife, even the wife of low degree,\nhappening by chance to see him leaving the temple without his body,\nwas so delighted with the wonderfully beauteous appearance he\nthus presented that she went to Udsessk\u00fcleng-G\u00f4a-Chatun, saying,\n\"Our master, so long as he went in and out among us, always was\nclothed in human form like other men; but to-day, when he started\non his expedition against the Schimnus, he wore such a brilliant and\nbeautiful appearance that it would be a joy if he looked the same when\nhe is with us.\" But Udsessk\u00fcleng-Chatun replied, \"Because you are young\nyou understand not these things. It is only to preserve his body from\nthe fine piercing swords of the Schimnus that he left it behind him.\"\n\nThe younger wife, however, was not satisfied with the explanation,\nand said within herself, \"If I go and burn the body which the King\nhas left behind him, then must he wear his beautiful spirit-appearance\nwhen he comes back to us.\"\n\nShe called together, therefore, all the other maidens, and having\nkindled a great fire of sandal-wood, went back to the temple,\nand fetched Gandharva's body from beneath the image of Buddha, and\nburned it.\n\nWhile this was going on the King appeared in his radiant form in the\nheavens, and spoke thus to Udsessk\u00fcleng-G\u00f4a-Chatun, saying,--\n\n\"From my beloved subjects, for whom I have laboured so untiringly,\nand from my dear wives and children and friends, and from my body\nwhich has served me so faithfully that I cannot but love it also--I am\ncalled to part. As my body is burnt, I cannot more visit the earth. My\nonly concern, however, is this, that I know within seven days the host\nof the Schimnus will come down upon you, and I shall not be there to\ndefend you. Take, therefore, this counsel, giving which is all I can\ndo for you more, for I go to Nirv\u00e2na (1). Get you up then, and escape\nwith the young prince, even with the Bodhisattva Vikram\u00e2ditja, within\nthese seven days, so that the Schimnus' host coming may not find you.\"\n\nAfter these words they saw him no more, for he entered then upon\nNirv\u00e2na.\n\nThe officers and ministers and household and subjects gave themselves\nto distressful grief when they knew that they should see their good\nmaster Gandharva no more, but Udsessk\u00fcleng-Chatun said, \"If I give\nmyself over thus to grief it will not bring back my lord the Khan;\nit were better that I stir myself to fulfil his all-wise counsel,\nand bear his son to a place of safety.\" Having thus spoken, she called\nall her maidens together and the child, and went to seek safety from\nthe Schimnus in her own country. As they journeyed, the young maiden\nwho had given her the counsel to visit the hermit of the kaitja, and\nwho had eaten what was left of the porridge made of earth boiled in\nsesame oil in the porcelain vessel, she also had a child, and when\nthe Khanin was astonished at the thing, the maid confessed that she\nhad eaten of the porridge which the hermit gave her that was left\nbehind in the porcelain vessel, and the Khanin remembered that she\nhad neglected to fulfil the counsel of the hermit, saying to her,\n\"Eat it all up.\"\n\nThe other maidens now objected to the burden of having another\ninfant to take care of on a perilous journey, and would have put it\nto death. But the Khanin said, \"Nay, but shall a child that came of\nthe hermit's blessing be slain?\" And when she found she could not\nprevail with them to take it she bid them not slay it, but leave it\nin shelter of a cave which there was by the way.\n\nThen they journeyed farther amid many dangers and privations till\nthey came to the capital of the mighty King K\u00fctsch\u00fcn-Tschidaktschi\n(2) in the outskirts of which they encamped. All the people gathered,\nhowever, on the other side of the way, struck with admiration by\nthe wondrous beauty of Udsessk\u00fcleng-Chatun, all inquiring whence she\ncould be, and flocking to gain a sight of her (3).\n\nThe Khan, seeing this gathering of people from the terrace of his\npalace, sent to inquire what it was, and a man of the train of the\nKhanin sent answer, \"It is the wife of a mighty King who is escaping\nfrom the fear of the Schimnus, her lord having entered Nirv\u00e2na.\" The\nKing, therefore, went down, and spoke with the Khanin, and having\nlearnt from her that such was really the case, the younger wife\nhaving burnt his body, and he having appeared in the sky to bid her\nescape with their son from before the fury of the Schimnus, ordered\nhis ministers to appoint her a dwelling for her and her son, and\nher train of followers, and to provide them richly with all things\nbefitting their rank.\n\nAll this the ministers did, and the Khanin and her son were hospitably\nentertained.\n\nThus Vikram\u00e2ditja was brought up in a strange land, but was exercised\nin all kinds of arts; and increased in strength, well-favoured in\nmind and body. He learned wisdom of the wise, and the use of arms\nfrom men of valour; from the soothsayer learned he cunning arts,\nand trading from sagacious traders; from robber bands learned he the\nart of robbery, and from fraudulent dealers to lie.\n\nIt happened that while they were yet dwelling in this place, a caravan\nof five hundred merchants came by, and encamped on the banks of a\nstream near at hand.\n\nAs these men had journeyed along they had found a boy at play in a\nwolf's den.\n\n\"How can a child live thus in a wolf's den?\" said one of the merchants;\nand with that they set themselves to lure the child to them.\n\n\"How canst thou, a child of men, live thus in common with a wolf's\ncubs?\" inquired they. \"It were better thou camest with us.\"\n\nBut the child answered, \"I am in truth a wolf-child, and had rather\nremain with my wolf-parents.\"\n\nBut Galbischa, the chief of the merchants, said, \"It must not be. A\nchild of men must be brought up with men, and not with wolves.\" So the\nmerchants took the boy with them, and gave him the name of Schal\u00fb (4).\n\nThus it came to pass that the child was with them, when they encamped\nthe night after they had taken him, in the neighbourhood of the city\nwhere Vikram\u00e2ditja and his mother lived. In the night the wolves came\nnear, and began to howl (5). Therefore, the merchants asked Schal\u00fb\nin sport, \"What are the wolves saying?\"\n\nBut Schal\u00fb answered in all seriousness, \"These wolves that you hear\nare my parents; and they are saying to me, 'Years ago a party of\nwomen passed by this way, and left thee with us as soon as thou wert\nborn; and we have nurtured thee, and made thee strong and brave;\nand thou, without regard to our affection to thee, hast gone away\nwith strangers. Nevertheless, because we love thee, we will give thee\nyet this piece of advice. To-night, there will be heavy torrents of\nrain, and the river by which your caravan is encamped, will overflow\nits banks. While the merchants, therefore, are engaged in hurry and\nconfusion seeking shelter, then break thou away from them, darling,\nand come back to us. This further warning give we thee, that in the\nneighbourhood prowls a robber.'\"\n\nNow it was so that Prince Vikram\u00e2ditja, having seen the encampment of\nthe merchants, was lurking in the thicket, to exercise his prowess in\nrobbing them. Thus when he overheard how Schal\u00fb expounded all that\nthe wolves said, he thought within himself, \"This is no ordinary\nyouth. That torrents of rain are about to fall might be a guess,\neven though the sky presents no indication of a coming storm;\nbut how could he guess that I was prowling about to rob the\ncaravan? this, at least, shows he has command of some sort of\nsupernatural knowledge.\" Determining therefore to discover some\nmeans of possessing himself of the boy, he went away for that night,\nbecause the merchants having been warned by the wolves of his designs,\nthey would be on the watch to take him had he attempted an attack.\n\nThe merchants, meantime, believing the words of the wolves expounded to\nthem by Schal\u00fb, removed their encampment to a high hill, out of the way\nof chances of damage by inundation. When night had fallen thick around,\nthe rain began to fall in heavy torrents, and the river overflowed its\nbanks, making particular havock of the very spot on which their tent\nhad been pitched. When the merchants in the morning saw this part of\nthe plain all under water, and the floods pouring over it, they said\none to another, \"Without Schal\u00fb's aid we had certainly all been washed\naway (6),\" and out of gratitude they loaded him with rich presents.\n\nAt the end of the next day's journey they selected the dry bank\nof a small tributary of the river for their camping-place. Prince\nVikram\u00e2ditja, who, in pursuance of his determination of overnight,\nhad watched their movements from afar, drew near, under cover of\nthe shades of evening, and set himself once more to overhear what\nSchal\u00fb might have to say. By-and-by two wolves approached, and began\nhowling. Then the merchants asked Schal\u00fb, saying, \"What do the wolves\nsay?\" And Schal\u00fb answered, \"These are the wolves who have been to me\nfrom my birth up in the place of parents, and they say, 'Behold, we\nhave watched over thee ever since thou wast born, and made thee brave\nand strong, nevertheless, unmindful of our aid, thou hast forsaken us,\nand betaken thyself to men, who are our enemies. This is the last\ntime that we can come after thee (7); but of our affection we give\nthee this counsel: sleep not this night, for there is a robber again\nlurking about the camp. Early in the morning also, if thou goest out\nto the banks of the stream, thou shalt find a dead body brought down\nby the waters; fish it out, and cut it open, for in the right thigh\nis enclosed the jewel Tschin-t\u00e2mani (8), and whoso is in possession\nof this talisman, has only to desire it, and he will become a mighty\nKing, ruler of the four parts of the earth.'\"\n\nWhen Vikram\u00e2ditja had heard these words, he gave up his marauding\nintention for that night also, his victims having been set upon\ntheir guard. But he was satisfied with the prospect of having the\ntalisman for his booty. Going higher up the stream, therefore,\nhe fished out the dead body as it floated down before it came to\nthe merchants' encampment, opened the thigh, and took out the jewel,\nand then committed it to the waters again, so that when the merchants\nand Schal\u00fb took it, they found the treasure was gone. But he thought\nwithin himself the while, \"This Schal\u00fb is no common boy; some pretext\nI must find to possess myself of him before the caravan leaves the\nneighbourhood.\"\n\nThe next morning, therefore, before they struck their tents, he came\nto them in the disguise of a travelling merchant, he also bringing\nwith him stuffs and other objects of barter, on which he had set\na private mark. While pretending to trade, he contrived to pick a\nquarrel, as also to leave some of his wares unperceived hidden in\none of the tents. Then he went to King K\u00fctsch\u00fcn-Tschidaktschi, and\nlaid this complaint before him:--\n\n\"Behold, O King, I was engaged in trading with a company of five\nhundred merchants who are encamped outside this city, but a dispute\narising, they fell upon me, and used me contumeliously, and drove me\nforth from among them, and, what is worst of all, they have retained\namong them the half of my stuffs.\"\n\nIn answer to this complaint, the King sent two officers of the\ncourt, and an escort of two hundred fighting-men, with instructions\nto investigate the matter, and if they found that the five hundred\nmerchants had really stolen the stuffs, to put them all to the edge\nof the sword; but if they found this was not the case, then to bring\nVikram\u00e2ditja to him for judgment.\n\nThen Vikram\u00e2ditja once more prostrated himself before the King, and\nsaid, \"Upon all my things have I set a mark (so and so), whereby they\nmay be recognized, so that clearly may it be established whether they\nhave my stuffs in possession or not.\"\n\nWhen the King's envoys came to the encampment of the five hundred\nmerchants, they arraigned them, saying--\n\n\"Young Vikram\u00e2ditja lays this complaint against ye before the King,\nnamely, that you have used him shamefully, driving him away from you\ncontumeliously, and laying violent hands on his stuffs, wherewith\nhe sought to trade with you. Know therefore that the command of\nour all-powerful King is, that if the stuffs of Vikram\u00e2ditja are\nfound in your tents, you be all put to the edge of the sword.\" And\nthe merchants answered cheerfully, \"Come in and search our tents,\nfor we have no man's goods with us, saving only our own.\"\n\nThen the King's envoys searched through all the tents, no man hindering\nthem, so persuaded were the good merchants that none of their company\nhad defrauded any man. As they searched, behold, they found hidden in\none of the tents, where Vikram\u00e2ditja had concealed them, the stuffs\nbearing his marks, so and so, even as he had testified before the King.\n\nWhen the merchants saw this they cried, saying, \"Surely some evil\ndemon hath done this thing, for in our company is none who ever took\nany man's goods;\" and they all began to weep with one accord.\n\nThe King's envoys, however, said, \"Weeping will bring you no help;\nwe must do according to the words of our all-powerful king.\" And they\ncalled on the two hundred fighting-men to put the whole company of\nmerchants to the edge of the sword.\n\nWhen the commotion was at the highest--the merchants entreating mercy\nand protesting their innocence, and the envoys declaring the urgency of\nthe King's decree, and the fighting-men sharpening their swords--there\nstood forward young Vikram\u00e2ditja, and spoke, saying, \"Nay, let not\nso many men be put to death. Leave them their lives if they give me\nin exchange the boy Schal\u00fb, whom they have in their company.\"\n\nThen the merchants said to Schal\u00fb, \"Already hast thou once saved\nour lives; go now with this man, and save them for us even this\nsecond time.\"\n\nAnd Schal\u00fb made answer, \"To have saved the lives of five hundred\nmen twice over, shall it not bring me good fortune?\" So he went with\nVikram\u00e2ditja, and the merchants loaded him with rich merchandize out\nof gratitude, for his reward.\n\nWhen Vikram\u00e2ditja came home, bringing the boy with him, his mother\ninquired of him, saying, \"Vikram\u00e2ditja, beloved son, where hast thou\nbeen, and whence hast thou the child which thou hast brought?\"\n\nAnd Vikram\u00e2ditja answered, \"Beloved mother, when thou wast on thy way\nhither fleeing from before the face of the Schimnus, did not one of\nthy maidens leave a new-born infant in a wolves' den?\"\n\nAnd his mother answered, \"Even so did one of my maidens, and the\nchild would now be about this age.\" So they took Schal\u00fb to them,\nand he was unto Udsessk\u00fcleng-Chatun as a son, but unto Vikram\u00e2ditja\nas a brother; and he went with him whithersoever he went.\n\nOne day Vikram\u00e2ditja came to his mother, and said to her, \"Beloved\nmother! Live on here in tranquillity, while I, in company with Schal\u00fb,\nwill go to the capital where my father, the immortal Gandharva,\nreigned, and see what is the fate of our people, and how I may recover\nthe inheritance.\"\n\nBut Udsessk\u00fcleng-Chatun made answer, \"Vikram\u00e2ditja, beloved son! Is\nnot the way long, and beset with evil men, who are so many and so\nbold? How then wilt thou ever arrive, or escape their wiles?\"\n\nVikram\u00e2ditja said to her, \"How great soever the distance may be, by\nhard walking I will set it behind me; and how many soever the enemy\nmay be, I shall overcome them, defying the violent with strength,\nand the crafty with craftiness.\"\n\nThus he and Schal\u00fb set out to go to the immortal Gandharva's\ncapital. Inquiring by the way what fate had befallen the kingdom, he\nfound that Gandharva had no sooner entered Nirv\u00e2na, than his neighbour\nKing Galischa, had made the design to obtain possession of his throne;\nbut that the Schimnus' host had been beforehand with him, and had\nalready commenced to take possession. They made a compact, however,\nby which the government was left to King Galischa, on condition of\nhis sending to the Schimnus in Gandharva's palace, a tribute of a\nhundred men daily with a nobleman at their head.\n\nThen Vikram\u00e2ditja was grieved when he learned that it was thus the\nusurping prince dealt with his subjects, and he proceeded farther\non his way. When he had come nigh the capital, he heard sounds of\nwailing, proceeding from a hut on the outskirts; going in to discover\nthe cause, Vikram\u00e2ditja found lying, with her face upon the floor,\na woman all disconsolate, and weeping piteously.\n\n\"Mother! What is thy grief wherewith thou art so terribly\noppressed?\" inquired Vikram\u00e2ditja of her.\n\n\"Ah!\" replied the woman, \"there is no cure for my grief. This King\nGalischa, who has seized the kingdom of the immortal Gandharva, has\nentered into a compact with the Schimnus to pay them a tribute of a\nhundred men every day with a nobleman at their head. I had two sons,\none of them is gone I know not whither, and now to-day they have come\nand taken the other to send in the tribute to the Schimnus, nor can I\nby any means resist the will of the King. That is why I wail, and that\nis why I am inconsolable.\" And she went on with her loud lament (9).\n\nBut Vikram\u00e2ditja bid her arise and be of good cheer, saying, \"I will\nbring back thy son to thee alive this day, for I will go forth to\nthe Schimnus in his stead.\"\n\nThen the woman said, \"Nay, neither must this be. Thou art brave with\nthe valour of youth, even as a young horse snorting to get him away to\nthe battle. But when thou art devoured by the Schimnus, then shall thy\nmother grieve even as I; and belike she is young and has many years\nbefore her, whereas my life is well-nigh spent, and what matter if\nI go down to the grave in sorrow? Who am I that I should bring grief\nto the mother of thee, noble youth!\"\n\nBut Vikram\u00e2ditja said, \"Leave that to me, and if I send not back\nto thee thine own son as I have promised, then will I send back to\nthee this youth, Schal\u00fb, who is my younger brother, and he shall be\nthy son.\"\n\nWhen he drew near the dwelling of King Galischa, the King was just\nmarshalling one hundred subjects, with a nobleman at their head, who\nwere to be sent that day to the Schimnus in tribute in Gandharva's\npalace. But the King, espying him, inquired who and whence he was.\n\nThen Vikram\u00e2ditja answered him, \"I am Vikram\u00e2ditja, son of\nGandharva. When he died, my mother carried me, being an infant of\ndays, far away for fear of the Schimnus. But now that I have grown\nto man's estate, I am come together with my younger brother to see\nafter the state of my father's kingdom.\"\n\nGalischa then said, \"It is well for thee that Heaven preserved\nthee from coming before, otherwise thou mightest have had all the\ntravail which has fallen upon me; nevertheless, as I came first, I\nam in possession. But I have every day in sorrow and agony to send\na tribute of one hundred subjects, with a nobleman at their head,\nto be devoured by the Schimnus.\"\n\n\"This have I learnt,\" replied Vikram\u00e2ditja, \"and it is even on that\naccount that I am here. For have I not seen the grief of a mother\nmourning over her son, and it is to take his place, and to go in his\nstead, that I came hither to thee.\"\n\nAnd Galischa said, \"How canst thou, youth that thou art, defy all\nthe might of the Schimnus, doubt not now but that they will devour\nthee before thou art aware.\"\n\n\"Then,\" replied the magnanimous prince, \"if I do not prevail against\nthe Schimnus, this I shall gain, that because I have given my life\nfor another, I shall in my next birth rise to a higher place (10)\nthan at present.\"\n\n\"If that is thy mind,\" replied the King, \"then do even as thou\nhast said.\"\n\nSo Vikram\u00e2ditja went out with the tribute of blood, and sent back\nthe youth whom he had come to replace, to his mother.\n\nWhen the King saw him go forth with firm step, and as it were dancing\nwith joy over his undertaking, he said, \"There is one case in which he\nmight turn out to be our deliverer; but if that case does not befall,\nthen will he but have come to swell the number of victims of the\nSchimnus. Let us, however, all wait here together through the day,\nto see what may befall.\"\n\nVikram\u00e2ditja and his companions meantime arrived at Gandharva's\npalace; and Vikram\u00e2ditja, as if he had known the place all his life,\nwent straight up to the throne-room, where was the great and dazzling\nSinh\u00e2sana (11). Ascending it, therefore, he sat himself in it, and,\nwhile his tears flowed down, he cried, \"Oh for the days of my father,\nthe immortal Gandharva; for he reigned gloriously! But since he\nhath entered Nirv\u00e2na we have had nothing but weariness. What would\nmy father have said had he seen his subjects made by hundreds at a\ntime food for the Schimnus? Schimnus, beware! lest I destroy your\nwhole race from off the face of the earth.\"\n\nThus spoke Vikram\u00e2ditja, till, inspired by his royal courage, he had\nsent all the hundred victims of this tribute back to their homes,\ndefying the anger of the Schimnus. But to the King he sent word,\n\"The Schimnus of whom thou standest in mortal dread will I curb\nand tame. Meantime, let there be four hundred vessels of brandy\nprepared.\" And the King did as he said, and sent and put out four\nhundred vessels filled with strong brandy in the way.\n\nWhen, therefore, the Schimnus came that they might devour their\nvictims as usual, they first came upon the four hundred vessels of\nbrandy, and seeing them, they set upon them greedily, and drank up\ntheir contents. Overcome by the strong spirit, they lay about on the\nground half-senseless, and Vikram\u00e2ditja came upon them and slew them,\nand hewed them in pieces.\n\nHe had hardly despatched the last of them when their Schimnu-king,\ninformed of what had been done, came down in wrath and fury,\nflourishing his drawn sword. But Vikram\u00e2ditja said to him, \"Halt! King\nof the Schimnus; taste first of my brandy, and if it overcome thee,\nthen shalt thou be my slave; but if not, then will I serve thee. Then\nthe King of the Schimnus drank up all the brandy, and, overpowered\nby the strong spirit, fell down senseless on the earth.\n\nAs he was about to slay him like the others, Vikram\u00e2ditja thought\nwithin himself, \"After all, it will bring greater fame to overcome\nhim in fair fight than to slay him by stratagem.\" So he sat down\nand waited till he came to himself; then he defied him to combat;\nand when he stood up to fight, he raised his sword and cut him in two.\n\nThen see! of the two halves there arose two men; and when he cut\neach of these in two, there were four men; and when he cut these in\ntwo, there were eight men, who all rushed upon him. Then the Prince\ntransformed himself into eight lions, which roared terribly, and tore\nthe eight men in pieces, and destroyed them utterly.\n\nWhile this terrible combat was going on, there were frightful\nconvulsions of nature (12): mountains fell in, and in the place where\nthey had stood were level plains; and plains were raised up, and\nappeared as mountains, water gushed out of them and overran the land,\nand all the subjects of Gandharva fell senseless on the earth. But\nwhen Vikram\u00e2ditja had made an end of the Schimnus, and resumed his\nown form again, he made a great offering of incense, and the earth\nresumed her stability; the people were called back to life, and all\nwas gladness and thanksgiving. All the people, and King Galischa\nat their head, acknowledged Vikram\u00e2ditja as their lawful sovereign,\nand he ascended the throne of his father Gandharva. Then he sent for\nthe Queen-mother, and made the joy of all his people.\n\n\n\nWhen the S\u00fbta had made an end of the narrative of Vikram\u00e2ditja's youth,\nhe addressed himself to Ardschi-Bordschi, saying,--\n\n\"If thou canst boast of being such a King as Vikram\u00e2ditja, then come\nand ascend this throne; but if not, then beware, at thy peril, that\nthou approach it not.\"\n\nArdschi-Bordschi then drew near once more to ascend the throne,\nbut two other of the sculptured figures, forsaking their guardant\nattitude, came forward and warned him back.\n\nThen another S\u00fbta addressed him, saying, \"Halt! O Ardschi-Bordschi! As\nyet thou hast only heard concerning the birth and the youth of\nVikram\u00e2ditja; now hearken, and I will tell thee some of his mighty\ndeeds.\"\n\nAnd all the sculptured figures answered together,--\n\n\"Halt! O Ardschi-Bordschi!\"\n\n\n\nTHE S\u00dbTA TELLS ARDSCHI-BORDSCHI CONCERNING VIKRAM\u00c2DITJA'S DEEDS.\n\nVIKRAM\u00c2DITJA ACQUIRES ANOTHER KINGDOM.\n\nWhile Vikram\u00e2ditja continued to rule over his subjects in justice,\nand to make them prosperous and happy, another mighty king entered\nNirv\u00e2na. As he left no son, and as there was no one of his family left,\nnor any one with any title to be his heir, a youth of the people was\nelected to fill the throne. The same night that he had been installed\non the throne, however, he came to die. The next day another youth\nwas elected, and he also died the same night. And so it was the next\nnight, and the next, and yet no one could divine of what malady all\nthese kings died.\n\nAt last the thing reached the ears of Vikram\u00e2ditja.\n\nThen Vikram\u00e2ditja arose, and Schal\u00fb with him, and disguising themselves\nas two beggars, they took the way to the capital of this sorely-tried\nkingdom, to bring it deliverance.\n\nWhen they came near the entrance of the city, they turned in to rest\nat a small house by the wayside. Within they found an aged couple,\nwho were preparing splendid raiment for a handsome youth, who was\ntheir son; but they cried the while with bitter tears. Then said\nVikram\u00e2ditja,--\n\n\"Why do you mourn so bitterly, good people?\"\n\n\"Our King is dead,\" replied they, \"and as he has left no succession,\none of the people was chosen by lot to fill the office of King,\nbut he died the same night; and when another was similarly chosen,\nhe likewise died. Thus it happens every night. Now, to-day the lot\nhas fallen on our son; he will therefore of a certainty die to-night:\ntherefore do we mourn.\"\n\nThen answered Vikram\u00e2ditja, \"To me and my companion, who are but two\nmiserable beggars, it matters little whether we live or die. Keep\nyour son with you, therefore, and we two will ascend the throne this\nmorning in his place and die to-night in his stead.\"\n\nBut the parents replied, \"It is not for us to decide the thing. Behold,\nthe matter stands in the hands of three prudent and experienced\nministers, but we will go and bring the proposal before them.\"\n\nThe parents went, therefore, and laid the proposal of the beggars\nbefore the three prudent and experienced ministers, who answered them,\nsaying, \"If these men are willing to die after reigning but twenty-four\nhours why should we say them nay? Let them be brought hither to us.\"\n\nThen the beggars were brought in, and the ministers installed them on\nthe throne, saying to the people, \"Hitherto we have been accustomed to\nmeet together early in the morning to bury our King. But this time,\nas we shall have two kings to bury instead of one, see that you come\ntogether right early.\"\n\nVikram\u00e2ditja meantime set himself to examine all the affairs of the\nkingdom, that he might discover to what was to be ascribed the death\nof the King every night. And when he had well inquired into every\nmatter, he found that it had formerly been the custom of the King to\nmake every night a secret offering (1) to the devas, and to the genii\nof earth and water, and to the eight kinds of spirits, but that the\nsucceeding kings had neglected the sacrifice, and therefore the spirits\nhad slain them. Then the most high and magnanimous king Vikram\u00e2ditja\nappointed out of the royal treasury what was necessary to pay for\nthe accustomed offering; then he called upon the spirits and offered\nthe sacrifice. The spirits, delighted to see their honour return,\nmade the king a present of a handsome Mongolian tent and went up again.\n\nThe people, too, who had come together early in the morning, with\nmuch wood to make the funeral obsequies of the Kings, were filled\nwith delight to find the spell broken, and in return they gave him\nthe jewel Dsching, filling the air with their cries of gladness and\ngratitude, calling him the King decreed by fate to rule over them. Thus\nVikram\u00e2ditja became their King.\n\n\n\nVIKRAM\u00c2DITJA MAKES THE SILENT SPEAK.\n\nWhile now Vikram\u00e2ditja reigned over all his people in justice and\nequity complaint was brought before him against one of his ministers,\nthat he oppressed the people and dealt fraudulently with them; and\nVikram\u00e2ditja, having tried his cause, judged him worthy of death. But\nwhen he was brought before him to receive sentence he pleaded for life\nso earnestly that the magnanimous King answered him, \"Why should the\nlife of the most abject be taken? Let him but be driven forth from\nthe habitation of men.\"\n\nSo they drove him forth from the habitation of men. Now it had been the\nminister's custom, in pursuance of a vow, to observe three fast-days\nevery month (1). And so it happened, that one day after they had\ndriven him forth from the habitations of men, on the day succeeding\none of his fasts, he found himself quite without any thing to eat;\nnor could he discover any fruit or any herb which could serve as a\nmeans of subsistence. Recollecting, then, that one day he had made\nfour little offering-tapers out of wax and bread crumbs, he went and\nsearched out the shrine where he had offered them, that he might take\nthem to eat. But see! when he stretched forth his hand to take one\nof them it glided away from before him and hid itself behind another\nof the offering-tapers; and when he would have taken that one, they\nboth hid themselves behind the third. And when he stretched forth his\nhand to have taken the third, the three together, in like manner,\nglided behind the fourth. And when he stretched forth his hand to\nhave taken the four together, they all glided away together from\noff the altar and out of the shrine altogether, and so swiftly that\nit was as much as he could do to follow after them and keep them in\nsight. Going on steadily behind them he came at last to a cave of a\nrock, and brushwood growing over it. Herein they disappeared. Then\nwhen he would have crept in after them into the cave of the rock, two\nhe-goats, standing over the portal of the cave, sculptured in stone,\nspoke to him, saying, \"Beware, and enter not! for this is a place of\nbad omen. Within this cave sits the beauteous D\u00e2kin\u00ee (2) Tegrijin N\u00e2ran\n(3) sunk in deep contemplation and speaketh never. Whoso can make\nher open her lips twice to speak to man, to him is the joy given to\nbear her home for his own. But let it not occur to thee to make the\nbold attempt of inducing her to open her lips to speak, for already\nfive hundred sons of kings have tried and failed; and behold they all\nlanguish in interminable prison at the feet of the Silent Haughty One,\nsunk in deep contemplation.\"\n\nAnd as they spoke they bent low their heads, and pointed their horns\nat him, to forbid him the entrance.\n\nThe minister, however, had no mind to try the issue, but rather\nseized with a great panic he turned him and fled without so much as\nheeding whither his steps led him. Thus running he chanced to come\nwith his head at full butt against the magnanimous King Vikram\u00e2ditja,\njust then taking his walk abroad.\n\n\"How now, evil man?\" exclaimed the magnanimous King. \"Whence comest\nthou, fleeing as from an evil conscience?\"\n\nThen the minister prostrated himself before him, and told him all\nhe had learnt from the two he-goats sculptured in stone, concerning\nNaran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee.\n\nWhen Vikram\u00e2ditja had heard the story, he commanded that the evil\nminister should be guarded, to see whether the event proved that he\nhad spoken the truth; but, taking with him Schal\u00fb and three far-sighted\nand experienced ministers, he went on till he came to the cave and saw\nthe two he-goats sculptured in stone standing over the portal. The\nhe-goats would have made the same discourse to him as to the evil\nminister, but he commanded them silence. Then he transformed Schal\u00fb\ninto an aram\u00e2l\u00e2 (4) in his hand, but the three ministers into the\naltar that stood before the D\u00e2kin\u00ee, and the lamp that burned thereon,\nand the granite vessel for burning incense placed at the foot of the\nsame (5); laying this charge upon them: \"I will come in,\" said he,\n\"as though a wayfarer who knew you not, and sitting down I will tell\na saga of olden time. Then all of you four give an interpretation of\nmy saga quite perverse from the real meaning, and if the D\u00e2kin\u00ee be\nprudent and full of understanding she will open her lips to speak to\nvindicate the right meaning of the story.\"\n\nPresently, therefore, after he had completed the transformation of\nSchal\u00fb and the three far-seeing and experienced ministers, and having\nhimself assumed the appearance of a king on his travels, he entered\nthe cave and sat down over against the altar which stood before the\nD\u00e2kin\u00ee Naran, the Silent Haughty One, sunk in deep contemplation. Then\nsaid he, \"In that it was told me in this place dwells the all-fair\nTegrijin Naran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee, I, who am King of Gambudv\u00eepa, am come hither to\nvisit her;\" and as he spoke he looked furtively up towards the D\u00e2kin\u00ee,\nto see whether he had moved her to open her lips to speak.\n\nBut the all-beauteous Naran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee, the Silent Haughty One, sat still\nand gave forth no sign.\n\nThen spoke the King again, saying, \"On occasion of this my coming,\nO Naran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee, tell thou me one of the sagas of old; or else, if\nthou prefer to hold thy peace, then will I tell one to thee!\"\n\nAgain he looked up, but Naran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee Tegrijin, the Silent Haughty One,\nsat sunk in deep contemplation and gave forth no sign.\n\nAs the King paused, one of the far-seeing and experienced ministers,\neven the one whom he had transformed into the altar that stood before\nthe D\u00e2kin\u00ee, spoke, saying,--\n\n\"While from the lips of the all-beauteous Naran-Chatun (6) no word\nof answer proceeds, how should it beseem me, the Altar, a non-souled\nobject, to speak. Nevertheless, seeing that so great and magnanimous a\nKing has come hither and has propounded a question, I will yet dare,\neven I, to answer him. For, seeing that Naran-Chatun is so immersed\nin her own contemplations, she cannot give ear to the words of the\nKing, I who, standing all the day before her in silence, and hearing\nno word of wisdom in any of the sagas of old, even I would fain be\ninstructed by the words of the King.\"\n\nAnd as the altar thus spoke, Naran Tegrijin D\u00e2kin\u00ee cast a glance\nof scorn upon it, but the Silent Haughty One opened never her lips\nto speak.\n\nThen the King took up his parable and poured forth one of the sagas\nof old after this manner, saying,--\n\n\n\nWHO INVENTED WOMAN? (7)\n\n\"Long ages ago there went forth daily into one place four youths out\nof four tribes, to mind their flocks, one youth out of each tribe,\nand when their flocks left them leisure they amused themselves with\npastimes together. Now it came to pass that one day one of them rising\nearlier than the rest, and finding himself at the place all alone,\nsaid within himself,--\n\n\"'How is the time weary, being here all alone!'\n\n\"And he took wood and sculptured it with loving care until he had\nfashioned a form like to his own, and yet not alike. And when he saw\nhow brave a form he had fashioned, he cared no more to sport with\nthe other shepherd youths, but went his way.\n\n\"The next morning the second of the youths rose earlier than the rest,\nand, coming to the place all alone, said within himself,--\n\n\"'How is the time weary, being here all alone!'\n\n\"And he cast about him for some pastime, and thus he found the form\nwhich the first youth had fashioned, and, finding it exceeding brave,\nhe painted it over with the five colours, and when he saw how fair a\nform he had painted he cared no more to sport with the other shepherd\nyouths, but went his way.\n\n\"The next morning the third of the youths rose earlier than the rest,\nand, coming to the place all alone, said within himself,--\n\n\"'How is the time weary, being here all alone!'\n\n\"And he cast about him for some pastime, and thus he discovered the\nform which the first youth had fashioned and the second youth had\npainted, and he said,--\n\n\"'This figure is beautiful in form and colour, but it has no wit or\nunderstanding' So he infused into it wit and understanding.\n\n\"And when he saw how clever was the form he had endowed with wit and\nunderstanding, he cared no more to sport with the shepherd youths,\nand he went his way.\n\n\"The fourth morning the fourth of the youths rose up the earliest, and,\nfinding himself all alone at the trysting-place, said within himself,--\n\n\"'How is the time weary, being here all alone!'\n\n\"And, casting about to find some pastime, he discovered the form\nwhich the first youth had fashioned so brave, and the second youth\nhad painted so fair, and the third youth had made so clever in wit\nand understanding, and he said,--\n\n\"'Behold the figure is beautiful in form and fair to behold in colour,\nand admirable for wit and understanding, but what skills all this when\nit hath not life?' And he put his lips to the lips of the figure and\nbreathed softly into them, and behold it had a soul (8) that could\nbe loved, and was woman.\n\n\"And when he saw her he loved her, and he cared no more to sport with\nthe shepherd youths, but left all for her, that he might be with her\nand love her.\n\n\"But when the other shepherd youths saw that the figure had acquired\na soul that could be loved, and was woman, they came back all the\nthree and demanded possession of her by right of invention.\n\n\"The first youth said, 'She is mine by right of invention, because I\nfashioned her out of a block of wood that had had no form but for me.'\n\n\"The second said, 'She is mine by right of invention, because I\npainted her, and she had worn no tints fair to behold but for me.'\n\n\"The third said, 'She is mine by right of invention, because I gave her\nwit and understanding, and she had had no capacity for companionship\nbut for me.'\n\n\"But the fourth said, 'She is mine by right of invention, because\nI breathed into her a soul that could be loved, nor was there any\nenjoyment in her but for me.'\n\n\"And while they all joyed in the thought of possessing her, they\ncontinued to strive on that they might see which should prevail. And\nwhen they found that none prevailed against the rest, they brought\nthe matter before the King for him to decide.\n\n\"Say now therefore, O Naran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee, I charge thee, in favour of which\nof these four was the King bound to decide that he had invented woman?\"\n\nAnd as the King left off from speaking he looked towards Naran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee\nas challenging her to answer.\n\nBut Naran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee, the Silent Haughty One, sat immersed in deep\ncontemplation and held her peace, speaking never a word.\n\nThen when the far-sighted and experienced ministers saw that she held\nher peace, one of them, even the one whom Vikram\u00e2ditja had transformed\ninto the lamp before the altar, spoke, saying,--\n\n\"It were meet indeed that an unsouled object such as I, the\nLamp, should not venture to speak in presence of our mistress,\nNaran-Chatun. But as so great a King has come to visit us, and has\npropounded to us a question to which Naran-Chatun does not see fit\nto reply, even I, the Lamp, will attempt to answer him. To me, then,\nit seems that the answer is clear, for by whom could the figure be\nsaid to be invented saving by the youth who first fashioned it? He\nwho gave a mere block of wood a beautiful form must be allowed to\nhave invented it.\"\n\nNaran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee cast a glance of disgust and scorn upon the lamp, yet\nspoke she never a word.\n\nThen spoke the far-seeing and experienced minister whom Vikram\u00e2ditja\nhad transformed into the thurible at the foot of the altar, saying,--\n\n\"It were meet indeed that an unsouled object such as I, the\nIncense-burner, should not venture to speak in presence of our\nmistress, Naran-Chatun. But as so great a King has come to visit us,\nand has propounded a question to us to which Naran-Chatun does not see\nfit to reply, even I, the Thurible, will attempt to answer him. And\nto me indeed the answer is plain, for to whom could the figure be\nsaid to belong, if not to the youth who painted it and made a mere\nstump beautiful and lifelike with fair tints of colour?\"\n\nAt these words of the incense-vessel Naran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee cast upon it a look\nof scorn and contempt, but opened not her lips to speak.\n\nThen spoke Schal\u00fb, whom Vikram\u00e2ditja had transformed into his\naram\u00e2l\u00e2, with impetuosity, saying, \"Nay, but surely he alone could\nhave the right of invention who endowed a painted log with wit and\nunderstanding. Surely he who made a stump of a tree to think must be\nallowed to have invented it.\"\n\nWhen Naran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee saw with what a confident air the aram\u00e2l\u00e2 pronounced\nthis sentence, even as though he had settled the whole matter, she\ncould contain herself no longer, and then burst from her lips these\nwords, while her eyes lighted on the objects that had spoken with\nexceeding indignation,--\n\n\"Of miserable understanding are ye all! How then venture ye, unsouled\nobjects, to expound the matter when I, a reasonable being, scarcely\ndare pronounce upon the question? What other interpretation of\nthis parable, however, can there be than this:--The youth who first\nfashioned the figure of a block of wood, did not he stand in place\nof the father? He who painted it with tints fair to behold, did not\nhe stand in place of the mother? He who gave wit and understanding,\nis not he the Lama? But he who gave a soul that could be loved, was\nit not he alone who made woman? To whom, therefore, else should she\nhave belonged by right of invention? And to whom should woman belong\nif not to her husband?\"\n\nThus Tegrijin Naran D\u00e2kin\u00ee had been brought to speak once; but the\nproposition requiring that the Silent Haughty One should speak twice\nto man, the magnanimous King proceeded without making allusion to\nhis first success, saying,--\n\n\"Now that I have told a saga of old, it is the turn that one of you\nshould also tell us a tale to entertain the mind.\" And as he spoke\nhe addressed himself to Naran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee. Nevertheless Naran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee\nhad entered again into her deep contemplation, and held her peace,\nsaying never a word.\n\nThen said the far-seeing and experienced minister whom the King had\ntransformed into the altar,--\n\n\"As Naran-Chatun continues to sit in her place and to utter no sound\nin answer to the word of the high King who has come so far to visit\nus, even I, though I be an unsouled object, will venture to reply,\nasking him that he will again open to us the treasures of story.\"\n\nAt these words Naran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee cast a meaning glance upon her altar,\nbut spoke not.\n\nThen opened the magnanimous King again the treasures of story.\n\n\n\nTHE VOICE-CHARMER (9).\n\n\"Long ages ago two were travelling through a mountainous country, a\nman and his wife. And behold as they journeyed there reached them from\nthe other side of a rock a voice of such surpassing sweetness that the\ntwo stood still to listen, the man and his wife; and not they only, but\ntheir very beasts pricked up their ears erect to drink in the sound.\n\n\"Then spoke the woman,--\n\n\"'A man with a voice so melodious must be a man goodly to see. Shall\nwe not stop and find him out?'\"\n\n\"But the saying pleased not her husband, nor was he minded that she\nshould see who it was that sang so sweetly; therefore he answered\nher,--\n\n\"'Wherefore should we search him out; is it not enough that we hear\nhis voice?'\n\n\"When the wife had heard his answer, she said no more about searching\nout whence the voice proceeded; only the first time they passed a\nmountain-rill she said to her husband,--\n\n\"'Behold, I faint for thirst in this heat. Now, as thou lovest me,\nfetch me a draught of that cool water from the mountain-rill.' So\nthe man got down from his horse, and, taking his wife's cup (10),\nwent to the rill to fetch water.\n\n\"While he was thus occupied, the wife slid down from off her horse\nalso, and, going silently behind him, pushed him over the precipice\nand killed him. Then she set out to find out who it was sang so\nmelodiously. When she had followed up the sound she found herself in\npresence, not of a man goodly to behold, but of a wretched, loathsome\nobject, sunk down against the foot of the rock, deformed in person\nand covered with sores. Notwithstanding that the undeception was so\nrevolting, she yet took him up on her back and carried him with her;\nbut as the man was heavy and the way steep, the fatigue so wearied\nher that at the end of a little time she died.\n\n\"Was this woman to be counted a good woman or a bad?\"\n\nWhen the King had made an end of telling the tale, he looked towards\nNaran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee as challenging her to answer.\n\nBut Naran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee held her peace and spoke never a word.\n\nThen, when the far-seeing and experienced minister whom Vikram\u00e2ditja\nhad transformed into the lamp saw that she yet held her peace,\nhe said,--\n\n\"How should an unsouled being such as I, the Lamp, find out the right\nmeaning? nevertheless, not to leave the words of the high King without\nan answer, I will even venture to suggest that to me it seemeth she\nmust be counted a good woman; because though she killed her husband,\nyet she made atonement for her fault by raising the sick man and\ncarrying him with her--\"\n\nBut before he could make an end of speaking Naran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee cast at him\na glance of contempt and scorn, and she exclaimed,--\n\n\"How should there be any good in a woman who killed her lawful husband,\nand that only because her ears were tickled with the artful melody\nof an harmonious voice? Of a truth she must have been a veritable\nschimnu, and if she took the sick man with her, was it not only that\nshe might devour him at leisure?\"\n\nThen spoke Vikram\u00e2ditja,--\n\n\"Naran-Chatun! being he who hath induced thee to open thy lips to\nspeak these two times to man, give me my guerdon that thou accompany\nme home to be my wife.\"\n\nVery willingly coming down from her altar, Tegrijin Naran D\u00e2kin\u00ee at\nthese words gave herself to Vikram\u00e2ditja to accompany him home to be\nhis wife.\n\nVikram\u00e2ditja having then given back to Schal\u00fb and to his three\nfar-seeing and experienced ministers their natural shapes, and to the\nfive hundred sons of kings who had failed in winning Naran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee\ntheirs, with Naran-D\u00e2kin\u00ee by his side, and all the rest in a long\nprocession behind him, the King arrived at his capital. Here he called\ntogether all his people Tai-tsing (11) to a great assembly, where\nhe promulgated rules of faith and religion. By his good government\nhe made all his people so happy as no other sovereign ever did,\nsitting upon his throne with his consort Tegrijin Naran as the\nfate-appointed rulers.\n\n\n\nWhen the S\u00fbta had made an end of this narration of Vikram\u00e2ditja's\ndeeds, he addressed himself to Ardschi-Bordschi, saying,--\n\n\"If thou canst boast, of being such a King as Vikram\u00e2ditja, then\ncome and ascend this throne, but if not, then beware at thy peril\nthat thou approach it not.\"\n\nNow Ardschi-Bordschi had seventy-one wives; taking by the hand the\nchief of them therefore, he bid her make obeisance before the throne\nand ascend it with him. Ere they had set foot on the first step two\nother of the sculptured figures came forward, forsaking their guardant\nattitude, and warned him back, the warrior smiting him in the breast,\nand the S\u00fbta thus addressing him,--\n\n\"Halt! O Ardschi-Bordschi, and thou his wife! nor touch so much as\nwith thy prostrate heads the sacred steps. But first know what manner\nof woman was the chief wife of Vikram\u00e2ditja.\n\n\"The chief wife of Vikram\u00e2ditja was Tsetsen Budschiktschi (12), and\nshe never had a word, or look, or thought but for her husband. If thy\nwife be such a princess as she, then draw near to ascend the throne\ntogether, but if otherwise, then at your peril draw not near it.\n\n\"But,\" he said furthermore, \"hearken, and I will tell you, who have\nseventy-one wives, the story of what befell seventy-one parrots and\nthe wife of another high King to whom one of them was counsellor.\"\n\nAnd all the sculptured figures answered together,--\n\n\"Halt! O Ardschi-Bordschi!\"\n\n\n\nTHE S\u00dbTA TELLS ARDSCHI-BORDSCHI CONCERNING THE SEVENTY-ONE PARROTS\nAND THEIR ADVISER.\n\nLong ages ago the wife of a high King was ill with a dire illness,\nnor could the art of any physician suffice to cure her till one came\nwho said, \"Let there be given her parrots' brains to eat.\"\n\nWhen, therefore, the high King saw that eating parrots' brains\nbrought health it seemed good to him to take a tribute of parrots'\nbrains from his subjects.\n\nHe called unto him, therefore, the governor of a tributary province\nand commanded him, saying, \"Let there be delivered to me a tribute of\nthe brains of seventy-one parrots, otherwise thou must die the death.\"\n\nThat governor went out therefore trembling with fear, and he called\nunto him immediately a birdcatcher and agreed with him for the price\nof the brains of seventy-one parrots.\n\nNow the birdcatcher knew a certain tree in which there roosted every\nnight seventy-one parrots, and he said within himself, \"If I could\nspread one net over the whole tree, with one haul the whole affair\nwould be finished.\" So he went and bought a great net ready to spread\nover the whole tree.\n\nBut among these seventy-one parrots was one parrot exceeding wise, who\nwas always on the watch to see what the birdcatcher was about. When,\ntherefore, he saw him buy so great a net he said to his companions,\n\"To what end can the man have bought so big a net if not to spread\nround the whole tree? let us, therefore, in future roost on yonder\nrock.\" After this they went to roost on the rock. After they had\nroosted four or five nights on the rock the wise parrot caught sight\nof the birdcatcher prowling about, having followed them thither\nand being engaged in settling in his own mind how he should lay his\nnets. Then the wise parrot said to his companions, \"The man has come\nhither after us even to this rock; let us now, therefore, avoid his\nsnares by roosting in some other place.\"\n\nBut his companions, instead of accepting his counsel were provoked,\nand answered him, saying, \"How are we to endure thus changing our place\nof roosting every night. We left our tree which sheltered us well and\ncame to this rock to please thy fancy; and now thou wouldst have us\nmake another change. But we will no more listen to thy suspicions.\"\n\nThey roosted, therefore, still upon the rock, and that night the\nbirdcatcher came with his nets and encompassed them all.\n\nWhen they woke and found themselves imprisoned, loud were their shrieks\nof lamentation as they fluttered and beat their wings fruitlessly\nagainst the net; calling also on the wise parrot, saying, \"You who\nwere so wise in foreseeing the danger, have you no means for delivering\nus out of it?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the wise parrot, \"I have thought of that. Leave off\nevery one of you from shrieking and fluttering about, and beating\nyour wings against the net, which is a new one and not the least\nlikely to give way. On the contrary, lie all of you on your backs\nwith your heads hanging as if you were dead. The birdcatcher being\nsatisfied you are dead will not kill you over again. Then observe\nand see that the approach to this one rock is very narrow, and when\na man comes up it there is only just room for one foot-hold at the\nledge whence he can reach us, and it is as much as he can do to\nget up and down with the use of both his hands as well as his feet;\nhe will not, therefore, go to carry us down or put us in a bag, but\nwill throw us one by one over the cliff, and sure enough he will say\nout the number as he throws each down. Let, therefore, those who are\nthrown down first remain still lying without motion so that he may not\nsuspect any of the rest are alive, only when he says out the number,\n'Seventy-one!' then up and away, as at a signal of a race.\"\n\nThe other parrots did not venture to dispute the word of the wise\nparrot this time, but all did exactly as he had said. When the\nbirdcatcher came and found what a steep rugged path he had to climb\nhe vowed all sorts of vengeance on the parrots for giving him so\nmuch fatigue, and swore that he would break all their bones, for\nthe brain was the only part he cared to keep uninjured. When he had\ngot up to the ledge of rock by which he could reach them, however,\nand found that they seemed already stone dead, seeing that to wreak\nany vengeance on creatures that could not feel would be childish,\nhe contented himself with throwing them below one by one, calling\nout as he did so the number to each. In this way he had thrown over\nthe seventy; last of all there remained the wise parrot, but the net\nhaving fallen upon him he was rather longer loosing him than the rest,\nso that he had called out \"Seventy-one\" before he was ready to throw\nhim down, moreover, his whetstone happening at that same instant to\ntumble out of his girdle, the other parrots took the sound of its\nfall for that of the wise parrot, and all of them together they spread\ntheir wings and flew far away.\n\nThe birdcatcher saw this in time before he had let go his hold of\nthe wise parrot.\n\n\"Ah! vile, cunning parrots,\" he exclaimed in great wrath and\nindignation, \"what labour have you given me, and at last I have no\nbenefit for my exertion! One, at least, of you is still in my power,\nand on him will I be avenged for the mischief of all the rest;\nI will take him home and torture him at leisure, and then cook him\nalive. The wise parrot heard all this, but thought to wait till his\nfury was a little spent. But finding as time wore on the man only\ngot more and more wroth; and the matter beginning to get serious,\nas they were coming near his dwelling, the wise parrot at last said,\n\"What end will it serve that thou kill me? It will not bring the other\nparrots back--and, indeed, what grudge hast thou against me? I never\nkilled thee at any former time (1) that thou shouldst now kill me. Thou\nhast attacked my life, and I have defended it by fair dealing. Other\ngrudge against me hast thou none; then why shouldst thou seek to maim\nand injure me? Moreover, if thou do, be sure that the day will come\n(2) when I should repay thee. But now, if thou sell me who am a wise\nand understanding parrot, thou shalt receive for my price 100 ounces\nof silver, and if with seventy-one ounces thou buy seventy-one other\nparrots for him who hired thee there will still remain twenty-nine\nounces with which thou mayest make merry with all thy friends and\nacquaintance.\"\n\nWhen, therefore, the birdcatcher found he was a wise and understanding\nparrot, he took him and sold him to a rich merchant for 100 ounces\nof silver.\n\nThe merchant also, who bought the parrot, finding him so wise and full\nof understanding, employed him in all sorts of ways to watch over his\nbelongings. At last, one day he came and said to the parrot, \"Hitherto\nthou hast done me good service in watching over the merchandize,\nand I have regarded thee as my brother, now, therefore, that I go\non a journey of seventy-one days I entreat thee to watch over, as a\nsister-in-law, my wife, who is very gay and thoughtless.\n\nThe wise parrot answered, \"Be of good heart, brother, all shall be\nright in thine absence.\"\n\nAt which the merchant replied, \"If thou sayest so, brother Parrot,\nI can go forth on my journey without anxieties.\"\n\nHe had not been gone long when his young wife rose up, saying, \"Now\nindeed I am for once my own mistress: I will go out and see all my\nfriends, and particularly those I dare not visit when my husband\nis here.\" So she arrayed herself in all her gayest attire. But\nwhen she would have gone out the parrot stopped her, saying, \"Wait,\nsister-in-law. A wife behoves it rather to set her household affairs\nin order, than to go abroad paying visits when her husband is absent.\"\n\n\"Bad parrot!\" exclaimed the wife, \"what hast thou to do to hinder my\ntaking a little pleasure?\"\n\nThe parrot answered, \"Thy husband when he went away gave me strict\ncharge over thee, saying, 'I command thee that thou hinder her from\ngoing forth alone.' This, however, it is not in me to do, for thou\nart greater in might than I; and if I command thee not to go thou\nwilt not obey by words. Only now, therefore, before thou goest out\nsit down first and listen to the story that I will tell thee.\"\n\nWhen the wife heard him promise to tell a story, she sat down, for\nshe loved to listen to the stories of the wise parrot.\n\nThen the parrot began to tell her a story in this wise.\n\n\n\nHOW NARAN GEREL SWORE FALSELY AND YET TOLD THE TRUTH.\n\n\"Long ages ago there lived a King named Tsoktu Ilagukssan (3), who had\none only daughter, whom he kept as the apple of his eye, and guarded\nso jealously that she never saw any thing or any body. If any man went\nnear her apartment his legs were immediately broken and his eyes put\nout. So relentless was the command of the King.\n\n\"One day Naran Gerel (4), such was the daughter's name, however, came\nto her father, saying, \"Being shut up here all day seeing nothing\nand no man, my life is weariness unto me. Let me now go abroad on\nthe fifteenth of the month, that I may see something.\"\n\n\"But the King would not listen to her; only as she continued day by\nday urging her request, the King at last gave permission that on\na certain day she might go abroad; but he gave orders also at the\nsame time that on that day every bazaar should be shut, every window\nclosed, and that all men, women, and beasts should be shut up close\nout of sight of the Princess; and that whoso walked abroad, or but\nlooked out of window should be punished with death.\n\n\"On the fifteenth of the month, therefore, a new chariot was appointed\nto Naran Gerel, and she went forth surrounded by a train of her\nmaidens, and drove all through the city; every bazaar being shut up,\nevery window closed, and all men, women, and beasts within doors out\nof sight.\n\n\"Nevertheless, the King's minister Ssaran (5), overcome by his\ncuriosity to see the Princess, had gone up to the highest window of his\nhouse, to obtain a glimpse of her unperceived. But what care soever\nhe took to be seen of none, the Princess, in her anxiety to make the\nbest use of her eyes on this her one opportunity of seeing the world,\ndiscerned him.\n\n\"Never having seen any man but her father, who was already well\nstricken in years, the appearance of the Minister, who was still young,\nso charmed her that she instantly conceived a desire to see more of\nhim, and accordingly made a sign to him by raising the first finger\nof her right hand and marking a circle round it with the other hand;\nthen clasping both hands tight together and throwing them open again,\nfinally laying one finger of each hand together and pointing with\nthem towards the palace.\n\n\"Very much perplexed at finding himself discovered by the Princess,\nSsaran came down; and when his wife saw him looking so bewildered,\nshe inquired of him, saying, 'Hast thou seen the Princess?'\n\n\"'Not only have I seen the Princess,' replied Ssaran, 'but she hath\nseen me; and made all manners of signs, of which I understand nothing,\nbut that of course they were to threaten some dreadful chastisement.'\n\n\"'And of what nature were the signs, then?' further inquired his wife;\nand when he had described them to her, she replied,--\n\n\"'These signs by no means betoken threatening. Listen, and I will\ntell thee the interpretation of the same. In that she raised the\nfirst finger of the right hand on high, she signified that in the\nneighbourhood of her dwelling is a shady tree; that with the other\nhand she described a circle round it, showed that the garden where\nthe tree stands is surrounded by a high wall; that she clasped both\nhands together and then threw them open again, said, \"Come unto me\nin the garden of flowers;\" and the laying of one finger of each hand\ntogether, said, \"May we be able to meet?\"'\n\n\"'This were very well,' replied Ssaran, 'were the King's decree not\nso terrible, and his wrath so unsparing.'\n\n\"But his wife answered him, 'When a King's daughter calls, can fear\nstand in the way? Go now at her bidding, only take this jewel with\nthee.'\n\n\"Ssaran accepted his wife's counsel, and, stowing the jewel away in a\nsafe place in the folds of his robe, betook himself to the shady tree\nin the garden of the Princess. Here he found the Princess awaiting him,\nand they spent the day happily together.\n\n\"Towards evening, just as Ssaran was about to take leave of the\nPrincess, they suddenly found themselves surrounded by a hundred\narmed men, whom the captain that the King had set over the garden\nhad sent to take them both prisoners. Into a dark dungeon they were\naccordingly thrown to await the King's decree saying by what manner\nof means they should be put to death.\n\n\"Naran Gerel, who had been used to see every one obey her and bow\nbefore her, desired the men to let her go home to her father; but\nthe captain said, 'How many men have suffered maiming and death for\nnothing but because they have ventured near the precincts of thine\napartment! Now therefore it is thy turn that thou be put to death\nalso. So will there be an end of this peril to the King's subjects.'\n\n\"When Naran Gerel found she could prevail nothing with the captain,\nshe turned to Ssaran and entreated him that he should devise some way\nof escape; but, sunk in fear and apprehension of the King's terrible\nanger, he could not collect his ideas.\n\n\"'How comes it,' then inquired the Princess, 'that if thou hast so\nlittle presence of mind as thou now displayest, thou wert able to\ndistinguish and unravel, and find courage to follow, the tokens that\nI gave thee with my hands as I drove along the way?'\n\n\"'That,' said he, 'I discovered by the sharp wit of my wife, who also\ngave me courage to obey thy call.'\n\n\"'And did she furnish thee with knowledge and courage, and yet send\nthee forth with no sort of talisman?' said Naran Gerel.\n\n\"'She gave me nothing but this jewel,' replied the minister; 'and of\nwhat use can that be?'\n\n\"The Princess, however, took the jewel, and, throwing it out of window,\ncried to the guard, 'Ye men who are set to guard us, give ear. To\npersons sentenced to death is a jewel of no further use; take it one\nof you to whom it is permitted to live, only let whichever of you\ntakes it in possession do us this service, that he go to the house\nof the minister Ssaran, and knock three times at the door.'\n\n\"One of the guard therefore took the jewel, and went and knocked\nthree times at the door of the minister Ssaran. But the wife of the\nminister, knowing by this token that her husband was thrown into\nprison together with Naran Gerel, the King's daughter, made haste\nand attired herself in her finest apparel, and filled a basket with\nall manner of juice-giving fruits. With these she came to the gate\nof the prison where her husband was held bound, and spoke thus to\nthe captain of the guard,--\n\n\"'My husband being stricken with the fever, the physician hath ordered\nthat I take these fruits to him;' and the captain of the guard made\nanswer, 'If this be so, then take the fruits in to him, but loiter\nnot; return in all speed.' As soon as the wife entered the prison\nshe changed dresses hastily with Naran Gerel, bidding her escape and\ngo hence privately to her own apartment, while she remained beside\nher husband.\n\n\"In the meantime morning had come, and the King and all his court\nand his judges were astir, and before all other causes the captain of\nthe guard went to give account of the arrest of Naran Gerel and the\nminister Ssaran. The high King was very wroth when he heard what his\ndaughter had done and the minister, and commanded that they should\ninstantly be brought before him. So the captain of the guard went\nstraight to the prison, and without waiting so much as to look at\nthem brought the two prisoners before the throne of the King.\n\n\"When the King saw the minister and his wife standing before him,\nhe asked them in a voice of thunder,--\n\n\"'Where is Naran Gerel?'\n\n\"And the minister's wife made answer,--\n\n\"'How can we tell thee this thing, seeing we have been kept in durance\nall through the night?'\n\n\"'And wherefore have ye been kept in durance all through the\nnight?' pursued the King.\n\n\"'Concerning that also we know nothing further than that the captain\nof the guard told us it was by the King's decree,' replied the woman.\n\n\"'Explain this matter,' then said the King, addressing the\nminister. And he, his wife telling him what to say, made answer,\n'Most high King, how shall I explain the matter, seeing that I myself\nfail to know why we were arrested? My wife desired to see the garden\nof the King, and I, thinking it was not beyond a minister's privilege,\ntook her yesterday to walk there, and we spent the day together under\nthe shady tree. For this were we put in prison.'\n\n\"The King then spoke to the captain of the guard, saying, 'Shall not\na man pass the day in a garden with his wife? Wherefore should they\nbe put in prison? Behold, since thou hast done this thing, thy life\nis in this man's hand.' And he delivered the captain of the guard to\nthe minister to deal with him as he listed.\n\n\"But the captain of the guard said, 'For observing the King's decree\nam I to be put to death? Before I die, however, let this justice\nbe done. Let Naran Gerel be summoned hither, and let her say on the\ntrial of barley-corns whether it was not she whom I arrested in the\nKing's garden.'\n\n\"So the King sent and called Naran Gerel and bid her say on the trial\nof barley-corns whether it were not she whom the captain of the guard\nhad arrested in the King's garden.\n\n\"But Naran Gerel answered, 'Am I not then the King's daughter? How\nshould I, then, make the trial of barley-corns like one of the common\nherd of the people? But call me an assembly, and before the assembly I\nwill swear. Shall not that suffice for the King's daughter?' But this\nshe said because in the trial of barley-corns if one speak falsely\nthe barley-corns will surely spring into the air and burst with a\nloud noise; but if truth, then only they remain quiet. Naran Gerel\ntherefore feared to make the trial of barley-corns.\n\n\"But the King said, 'The words that Naran Gerel hath spoken are words\nof justice. Let an assembly be called.' So they called together an\nassembly, Naran Gerel having exchanged glances with the minister's\nwife agreeing how they should proceed.\n\n\"Meantime the minister and his wife went home. The wife therefore\nstained her husband all over with a black stain so that he looked quite\nblack, and she said to him, 'When the time comes that the Princess has\nto take the oath in the assembly, do thou find thyself there doubled\nup and making unmeaning grimaces and uncouth antics with an empty\nwater-pitcher. Perhaps the Princess will find the means to escape\nhereby out of the judgment that threatens her.'\n\n\"The assembly was now gathered. The King was on his throne, and\nNaran Gerel stood at its foot; and the minister, under the form of\na crippled beggar, black and loathsome to behold, was there also.\n\n\"Then the King called upon Naran Gerel to take the oath. And first\nespying the pretended cripple, he commanded, saying, 'Let that\nrevolting object be removed;' and all the people loathed him. But the\nminister, who acted the part of a cripple, only mouthed and wriggled\nthe more, and would not be removed, and as he threatened to make a\ndisturbance the King bid them unhand him again.\n\n\"But Naran Gerel stood forward, saying, 'Whereon shall I take this\noath? On the barley-corns it beseemeth not the King's daughter to\nswear even as a common wench. And if I swear on any well-looking man\nin this assembly, I shall run danger of having the former accusation\nbrought against me again. I will therefore swear by this cripple whom\nall have loathed. Those who would accuse me to the utmost cannot see\nany offence if I swear by an object so ungainly and revolting.'\n\n\"By this means, as she had sworn by a cripple who was no cripple,\nshe counted that it was no oath, while the King and all the people\nwere satisfied she had spoken the truth. The captain of the guard\nwas handed over to the minister's pleasure, who let him go free,\nand the minister and Naran Gerel were pronounced innocent.\"\n\n\n\n\"The wife of the minister Ssaran was a devoted wife, well-being and\ntrue to her husband,\" said the wise parrot when he had finished this\ntale. \"If, therefore, thou art devoted and brave even as the wife\nof the minister Ssaran, then go abroad and pay visits according to\nthy desire; but if not, then beware that thou set not foot outside\nthe door.\"\n\nAfter these words the merchant's wife gave up her intention of going\nout, and remained at home. And thus the wise parrot dealt with her\nevery day of the seventy-one days that the merchant was absent.\n\n\n\nThen said the S\u00fbta further to Ardschi-Bordschi, \"If thy wife, O\nArdschi-Bordschi! is worthy to be compared to the wife of the minister\nSsaran, not to mention the comparison with Tsetsen B\u00fcdschiktschi,\nwife of the magnanimous King Vikram\u00e2ditja, then may she prostrate\nherself with her forehead upon the foot of this throne; but if not,\nthen on her peril let her not approach it.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nNOTES.\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n1. Kalmuck. \"The Khalmoucks or Calmuks, are very far from enjoying\nin Asia the importance our books of geography assign them. In the\nKhalmoukia of our imagining, no one knew of the Khalmouks. At last\nwe met with a Lama who had travelled in Eastern Tibet, and he told us\nthat one of the Kolo tribes is called Khalmouk.\" The Kolos are a nomad\npeople of Eastern Tibet, of predatory habits, living in inaccessible\ngorges of the Bayen Kharet mountains, guarded by impassable torrents\nand frightful precipices, towards the sources of the Yellow River;\nthey only leave their abode to scour the steppes on a mission of\npillage upon the Mongolians. The Mongolians of the Koukou-Noor (Blue\nLake) hold them in such terror, that there is no monstrous practice\nthey do not ascribe to them. They profess Buddhism equally with the\nMongolians. See \"Missionary Travels in Tartary, Tibet, and China,\"\nby Abb\u00e9 Huc, vol. i. chap. iv.\n\n2. \"The various Dekhan dialects, i.e. of the Tuluvas, Malabars, Tamuls,\nCingalese, of the Carnatic, &c., though greatly enriched from Sanskrit,\nwould appear to have an entirely independent origin. The same may be\nsaid of the popular traditions.\" Lassen, vol. i. 362-364.\n\n3. The Tirolean legend of the Curse of the Marmolata, which I have\ngiven at pp. 278-335 of \"Household Stories from the Land of Hofer,\"\nmay well be thought to be a reproduction and reapplication of this,\none of the most ancient of myths.\n\n4. Even the Mah\u00e2 Bh\u00e2rata, however, gives no consecutive and reliable\naccount of the original settlement in the country. Franz Bopp, one\nof the earliest to attempt its translation, thus happily describes\nit. He likens it to an Egyptian obelisk covered with hieroglyphics,\n\"an dem die Grundform von der Erde zum Himmel strebe, aber eine\nF\u00fclle von Gestalten, (von denen eine auf die andre deute, eine ohne\ndie andre r\u00e4thselhaft bleibe,) neben und durch einander hinziehe und\nIrdisches und Himmlisches wundersam verbinde.\"--The pervading plan of\nthe work is one straining from earth upwards to heaven, but overlaid\nwith a multiplicity of figures, each one so intimately related with\nthe other, that any would be incomprehensible without the rest;\nthe thread of the life of one interwoven with those of the others,\nand all of them together creating a wondrous bond between the things\nof this world and the things which are above.\n\n5. \"The only way to gain acquaintance with the early history of India\nis by making use of its Sagas.\" Lassen, Indische Alterthumskunde,\nvol. i., pref. p. vii. But I shall have more to say on this head when\nI come to the story of Vikram\u00e2ditja.\n\n6. Some, however, seem to go too far, when they labour to prove\nthat this is the case with every individual European legend, many of\nwhich are manifestly created by Christianity; and write as if every\naccidental similarity of incident necessarily implied parentage\nor connexion.\n\n7. See introduction to his Translation of Pantschatantra. I have\nthought it worth while to mention this on account of the present\ncollection being Mongolian.\n\n\n\nDEDICATION.\n\n1. Sh\u00e2kjamuni--the family name of Buddha, the originator of\nBuddhism. It means \"Hermit of the tribe of Sh\u00e2kja,\" the Sh\u00e2kja\nbeing one of the earliest Indian dynasties of which there are any\nrecords. His great-grandfather was Gajasena, whose son Sinah\u00e2nu married\nK\u00e2kkan\u00e2, also of the Sh\u00e2kja lineage. Their son Shuddhodana married\nMah\u00e2prag\u00e2pat\u00ee (more commonly called by her subsequently received name\nof M\u00e2ja = \"the creative power of the godhead\") a daughter of Angana,\nK\u00e2kkan\u00e2's brother, and became the father of Buddha [4].\n\nAccording to the Mahavansha, Gajasena was descended from Ixv\u00e2ku,\nthrough the fabulous number of eighty-two thousand ancestors! He was\nalso wont to call himself Shramana-Gautama, to mark his alliance with a\ncertain priestly family of Brahmans and thereby disarm any animosity on\ntheir part toward his teaching. He was also called Sh\u00e2kjasinha = \"Lion\nof the tribe of Sh\u00e2kja,\" to show that he belonged to the warrior caste.\n\nHe was brought up as heir to the crown, and was trained in the use of\narms and in all matters appertaining to the duties of a ruler. At the\nage of sixteen he was married, and we have the names of his three\nwives--Utpalavarn\u00e2, Jashodhar\u00e2, and Bhadrak\u00e2kkan\u00e2. Up to the age\nof twenty-eight he lived a life entirely devoted to the pursuit of\npleasure, his time being passed between the respective attractions\nof three splendid palaces built for him by his father. At about this\nage he appears to have grown weary of this desultory kind of life,\nand one day, meeting in his walks with an old man, a sick man, a\ncorpse, and a priest, he was led to turn his thoughts upon the evils\nand the evanescence of life. Rambling on instead of returning home he\nsat down to rest under the shade of a gambu-tree, and here he found\nfresh food for his melancholy reflections in the miserable condition\nof the country people living around. The legend says the Devat\u00e2,\nor gods, appeared to him in the shape of these suffering people in\norder further to instruct him in his new views of existence. In all\nprobability his previous mode of life never having brought him in\ncontact with the actual miseries of the needy this sight appeared to\nhim in the light of an apparition.\n\nThe result of his deliberations was the resolve to withdraw to a\nplace of solitude, where he might be free to consider by what means\nhuman beings could be relieved from their miseries [5].\n\nWith this view he forsook his family and his palatial residences, and\nhaving laid aside his rich clothing he wandered forth unknown to all,\nbegging his food by the way till he found the retirement he sought\nin the hermitages of various Brahmans of Gaj\u00e2shira, a hill in the\nneighbourhood of Gaja [6], whence he is sometimes called Gajashiras.\n\nHe first placed himself under the teaching of the Brahman Ar\u00e2da\nK\u00e2l\u00e2ma, afterwards under that of another called Rudraka, who was so\nstruck with the progress he made in the acquisition of every kind of\nknowledge that he soon associated him with himself in the direction\nof his disciples. Five of these (four of them belonging to the royal\nSh\u00e2kja family), \u00c2gn\u00e2ta, Ashvagit, Bhadraka, Vashpa, and Mah\u00e2r\u00e2ta,\ngrew so much attached to him and his views that they subsequently\nbecame the first followers of his separate school of teaching.\n\nHaving after some years exhausted the satisfaction he found in the\npursuit of study he set out restlessly on a new search after happiness,\nfollowed by the five disciples I have named, and retired with them to\na more exclusive solitude still, where for six years he gave himself\nup to unbroken contemplation amid the most rigid austerities. After\nthis he seems to have somewhat alienated his companions by relaxing\nhis severe mode of life, for they forsook him about this time and\ntook up their abode in the neighbourhood of V\u00e2r\u00e2nas\u00ee [7], where they\ncontinued to live as he had shown them at the first [8].\n\nThis mode of life even he, however, does not appear to have altered\nexcept in the matter of abridging his fasts, for his habitual\nmeditations went on as before, and they were believed to have so\nillumined his understanding that he finally received the appellation\nof Buddha = \"the enlightened one,\" while from his favourite habit\nof making these meditations under the shade of the ashvattha,\nthe \"trembling leaf\" fig-tree, that tree, which has acquired so\nprominent a place in Buddhist records, legends, and institutions,\ncame to be called the bodhiruma, literally, \"tree of knowledge,\" and\nit has even been distinguished by naturalists from the ficus indica,\nof which it is a variety, by the title of ficus religiosa. It became\nso inseparable an adjunct of Buddhism that wherever the teaching of\nSh\u00e2kjamuni was spread this tree was transplanted too [9].\n\nThe oppression of solitude appears to have overcome Sh\u00e2kjamuni at last,\nand he consequently took the resolution of journeying to V\u00e2ranas\u00ee to\nseek out his former companions. At their first meeting they were so\nscandalized to see him look so well and hearty instead of emaciated\nby austerities that they refused to pay him any respect. But\nwhen he showed them that he had attained to the illumination of\na Buddha they accepted his teaching and put themselves entirely\nunder his guidance. The number of his disciples increased meantime\namazingly. As they lived by alms they received the name of Bhixu as\na term of reproach. Ere long we find him sending out sixty of them,\nwhom he invested with a certain high dignity he called Arhat [10],\nto spread his teaching wherever they came. He himself wandered for\nnineteen years over the central and eastern districts of the country,\nteaching,--his agreeable presence and benevolence of manner, and,\nthe legends say, the wonderful things he did, winning him numerous\nconverts wherever he went [11]. Some gave themselves up to a life\nof contemplation in the jungle, others associated themselves with\nhim in his travels. When the rainy season set in they had to find\nshelter for the four months in such colleges of Brahmans or houses of\nfamilies as they found well inclined towards them. This Varshavasana,\nas it was called, afforded them additional opportunity of making\nknown their ideas.\n\nSh\u00e2kjamuni himself seems to have won over several kings to his way\nof thinking; one of them, king of Pank\u00e2la, he made an Arhat; another,\nthe king of Koshala, stirred himself very much to awaken Shuddodana to\na sense of the merit of his son, sending to congratulate him because\none of whom he was progenitor had found the means by which mortals\nmight attain to unending happiness. For once, making an exception to\nthe proverb that a prophet meets with little honour in his own country,\nfortune favoured him in this matter also, and his father, who violently\nopposed his withdrawal from his due mode of life in the first instance,\nsent eight messengers one after the other to beg him to come and adorn\nhis court with his wisdom. Each one of these, however, was so won by\nhis teaching that he never returned to the king, but remained at the\nfeet of Sh\u00e2kjamuni. Last of all the king sent his minister Karka, who,\nthough he also adopted his views, prevailed on him to let him take\nback the message that he would satisfy his father's requests. The\nking meantime built a vih\u00e2ra for him under a grove of his favourite\nNjagrodha, or sacred fig-tree. His return home happened in the twelfth\nyear after his departure, but when he had made his teaching known\namong his kindred he set out on his travels again, only returning at\nintervals, as to any other vih\u00e2ra, for the rainy season. A great many\nof his family joined themselves to him, among them his son R\u00e2hula,\nand his nephew \u00c2nanda, who became one of his most celebrated followers.\n\nIn the twentieth year of his Buddhahood and the fifty-sixth of his\nage, he was seized with a serious illness, during which he announced\nhis conviction that his end, or nirv\u00e2na, was at hand, that is,\nhis entering on that state which was the ultimate object which he\nbid his followers strive to attain--the completion of all possible\nknowledge and the consequent dissolution of personal individuality\n[12]; further, that it should take place at Kushinagara, the capital\nof the Malla people [13]. Soon after, he accomplished his prediction\nby setting out for this place, visiting by the way many of the spots\nwhere he had establishments of disciples, and arriving there in a\nstate of utter exhaustion and prostration. On this journey he made\nmore converts, but after his arrival gave himself up to contemplation\nwhich he considered necessary to perfect his fifth or highest degree\nof knowledge, until his death. This took place under a Shala-grove,\nor grove of sal-trees. His body was by his own desire treated with the\nhonours only to be paid to a Kakravartin [14], or supreme ruler. After\nburning his body the ashes were preserved in an urn of gold. His death\nis reckoned to have taken place in the year 543 B.C. [15], according\nto the Buddhists of Ceylon and Southern India generally. Those of the\nnorthern provinces, the Japanese and Mongolians, have a very different\nchronology, and place his birth about the year 950 B.C. The Chinese\nare divided among themselves about it and say variously, 688, 1070,\nand 1122 [16].\n\nA great number of claimants demanded his ashes in memorial of him,\nand finally, by the advice of a Brahman named Drona, they were\npartitioned among eight cities, in each of which a kaitja, or shrine\n[17], was erected to receive them. A great gathering of his followers\nwas held at Kushinagara, of which K\u00e2shjapa was sanghasthavira, or\npresident, Buddha having himself previously designated him for his\nsuccessor. He had been a distinguished Brahman. It is said by one of\nthe exaggerations common in all Indian records that there were seven\nhundred thousand of the new religionists present. Five hundred were\nselected from among the most trustworthy to draw up the Sanghiti, or\ngood laws of Buddha. Then they broke up, determining to travel over\nGambudv\u00eepa, consoling the scattered Bhixu for the loss of their master,\nand to meet again at R\u00e2gagriha at the beginning of the month Ash\u00e2dha\n(answering to the end of our June) for the Varshavasana.\n\nThis synod lasted seven months. Its chief work was the compilation of\nthe Tripitaka--\"the three baskets\" or \"vessels\" supposed to contain\nall Sh\u00e2kjamuni's teaching: 1. The Sutra-pitaka, containing the\nconversation of Sh\u00e2kjamuni (of these I have had occasion to speak\nin another place [18]); 2. The Vinaja-pitaka, containing maxims by\nwhich the disciple's life was to be guided; and the Ahidharma-pitaka,\ncontaining an exposition of religious and philosophical teaching. The\nfirst was under the revision of \u00c2nanda; the second under that of Up\u00e2li;\nand the third under that of K\u00e2cjapa. The Tripitaka also bears the name\nof Sthavira, because only such took part in its compilation; also \"of\nthe five hundred,\" because so many were charged with its compilation.\n\nIt is important, however, to bear in mind, because of the monstrous\nexaggerations and extravagant incidents subsequently introduced [19]\nthat these were only compilations preserved by word of mouth; the art\nof writing was scarcely known in India at this time. \"After the Nirv\u00e2na\nof Buddha, for the space of 450 years, the text and commentaries and\nall the words of the Tath\u00e2gato were preserved and transmitted by wise\npriests orally. But having seen the evils attendant upon this mode of\ntransmission, 550 rahats of great authority, in the cave called Al\u00f4ka\n(Alu) in the province of Malaya, in Lank\u00e2, under the guardianship\nof the chief of that province caused the sacred books to be written\n[20].\" As this \"text and commentaries\" are reckoned to consist of\n6,000,000 words, and the Bible of about 500,000, we may form some\nidea of the impossibility of so vast a body of language being in any\nway faithfully preserved by so treacherous a medium as memory.\n\nMegasthenes (Fragm. 27, p. 421, b.) and Nearchos (Fragm. 7,\np. 60, b.) particularly mention that the Indians had no written\nlaws, but their code was preserved in the memory of their judges;\nthus testifying to the practice of trusting to memory in the most\nimportant matters. Schwanbeck (Megast. Ind. p. 51) remarks that\nthe Sanskrit word for a collection of laws--Smriti--means also\nmemory. J. Prinsep (in his paper on the Inscriptions of the Rocks\nof Girnar, in Journ. of As. Soc. of Beng. vii. 271) is inclined to\nthink some of the rock-cut inscriptions are as early as 500 B.C.;\nwhich would show they had some knowledge of a written character then;\nLassen, however, is of opinion that this is altogether too early;\nbut there seems no doubt that there are some both of and anterior to\nthe reign of Ashoka, 246 B.C. Megasthenes indeed mentions that he had\nheard they used a kind of indurated cotton for writing on. But the\nuse, neither of this material nor of a written character, could have\nbeen very common or extended, for Nearchos (Strabo, xvi. \u00a7 67) wrote,\n\"It is said by some, the Indians write on indurated cotton stuff,\nbut others say they have not even the use of a written alphabet.\"\n\nThough thus disfigured and overlaid as time went by, the great\nintention which Sh\u00e2kjamuni himself seems to have had in view in the\npreparation of his doctrine was to destroy the exclusiveness of the\nBrahmanical castes, and that most especially in its influence on\nthe future and final condition of every man, and thus he accepted\nmen of all castes, even the very lowest [21], and the out-caste\ntoo, among not only his disciples but among his priesthood. It was\nthus in its origin a system of morals rather than of faith. It was\nfull of maxims inculcating virtue to be pursued--not indeed out of\nobedience to the will of a Divine and all perfect Creator--but with\nthe object of escaping the necessity of the number of re-births\ntaught by the Brahmans and of sooner attaining to nirv\u00e2na. It set\nup, therefore, no mythology of its own [22], nor put forward any\nstatement of what gods were to be honoured. Nevertheless it was\ngrafted on to the mythology prevailing at the time, and many of\nthe gods then honoured are incidentally mentioned in the Sutra as\naccepted objects of veneration. The V\u00eada, or sacred teaching of\nthe Brahmans, is quoted in almost every page [23]. The gods who\nthus come in for mention in the simple Sutra are the following\n[24]:--The three gods of the later mythology bear here the names of\n(1) Brahm\u00e2 and Pel\u00e2maha; (2) Hari, Gan\u00e2rdana, N\u00e2r\u00e2jana, and Up\u00eandra\n(it is important to note that the name of Krishna does not appear at\nthis period at all); (3) Shiva and Shankara. Indra was now placed at\nthe head of gods of the second rank. We have also Shakra, V\u00e2sava,\nand Shakipati, called the husband of Shaki. Of the other L\u00f4kap\u00e2la,\nKuvera and Varunna are named. It is doubtless only by accident that\nmore do not find mention. Of the demigods Visvakarman, the Gandharba,\nKinnara, Garuda, Jaxa the Serpent-god, Asura, and Danava, along with\nother evil genii and serpent-gods. The most often named--particularly\nin the colloquies between Buddha and his disciples--is Indra with\nthe adjunctive appellation of Kaushika. Indra was at the time of\nSh\u00e2kjamuni himself the favourite god; the other great gods had\nnot yet received the importance they afterwards acquired, nor had\nany thing like the idea of a trine unity or equality been broached\n[25] as we shall presently see; even these allusions were but scanty\n[26]. It was long before the whole Brahmanical system of divinities\ncame to form an integral part of the Buddhist theosophy [27].\n\nHence Sh\u00e2kjamuni, as well as his contemporary and earliest succeeding\ndisciples, lived for the most part [28] on good terms with the\nBrahmans, some of whom were among the most zealous in securing the\ncustody of some part of his ashes. But they were not long ere they\nperceived that as this new teaching developed itself its tendency\nwas to supersede their order. Then, a life and death struggle for the\nupper-hand ensued which lasted for centuries, for while the Buddhists\nwere on the one side fighting against the attempted extermination, on\nthe other side they were spreading their doctrines over an ever-fresh\nfield by the journeyings of their missionaries, a proceeding the more\nexclusive Brahmans had never adopted. This went on till by the one\nmeans and the other Buddhism had been almost entirely banished from\nCentral India, where it took its rise, but had established itself\non an enduring basis as remote from its original centre as Ceylon,\nMongolia, China, Japan, the Indian Archipelago, and perhaps even Mexico\n[29]. This state of things was hardly established before the 14th\ncentury [30]. But from information on the condition of religion in\nIndia preserved by the Chinese pilgrim Fahien, who traversed a great\npart of Asia, A.D. 399-414, Buddhism had already at that time suffered\ngreat losses, for at Gaja itself the temple of Buddha was a deserted\nruin. From the writings of another Chinese pilgrim, Hiuen Thsang,\nwhose travels took place in the 7th century, it would seem that the\ngreatest Brahmanical persecution of the Buddhists did not take place\nbefore 670 [31]. That it had cleared them out of Central India by the\ndate I have named above is further confirmed by M\u00e2dhava, a writer of\nthe 14th century, quoted by Professor Wilson, who \"declares that at\nhis date not a follower of Buddha was to be found in all Hindustan,\nand he had only met some few old men of that faith in Kashmir.\" \"At\nthe present day,\" adds Wilson, \"I never met with a person who had met\nwith natives of India Proper of that faith, and it appears that an\nutter extirpation of the Buddha religion in India Proper was effected\nbetween the 12th and 16th centuries.\" Nevertheless it is the system\nof religion which next after the Catholic Church counts the greatest\nnumber of followers.\n\nDr. G\u00fctzlaff (in his \"Remarks on the Present State of Buddhism,\" in\n\"Journ. of R. As. Soc.\" xvi. 73.) tells us two-thirds of the population\nof China is Buddhist. In Ungewitter's Neueste Erdebeschreibung,\nthe whole population is stated from native official statistics\nat 360,000,000; whence it would follow that there are 240,000,000\nBuddhists in China alone; probably, however, the Chinese figures are\nto some extent an exaggeration.\n\nBefore concluding this brief notice of Buddhism it remains to say\na few words on the later developments of the system which have too\noften been identified with its original utterances.\n\nIt does not appear to have been before the 10th century that Sh\u00e2kjamuni\nwas reckoned to be an incarnation of a heavenly being; at least the\nearliest record of such an idea is found in an inscription at Gaya,\nascribed to the year 948 [32], while much of his own teaching bears\ntraces of a lingering belief in a great primeval tradition of the unity\nof the Godhead and the promise of redemption [33], as well as the great\nprimary laws of obedience and sacrifice more perfectly preserved to us\nin the inspired writings committed to the Hebrews. The history of the\ndeluge, as given by Weber from the Mah\u00e2 Bh\u00e2rata, is almost identical\nin its leading features with the account in Genesis, bearing of course\nsome additions. A great ship was laden with pairs of beasts, and seeds\nof every kind of plants, and was steered safely through the floods by\nVishnu under the form of a great fish, who ultimately moored it on the\nmountain Naubandhana, one of the Him\u00e2lajas in Eastern Kashmere. The\nearly V\u00eada hymns, too, had thus spoken of the Creation, \"At that time\nthere was neither being nor no being; no world, no air, nor any thing\nbeyond it. Death was not, neither immortality; nor distinction of\nday and night. But It (tad) respired alone, and without breathing;\nalone in Its self-consciousness (Svadha, which hence came to be used\nfor 'Heaven'). Besides It was nothing, only darkness. All was wrapt\nin darkness, and undistinguishable fluid. But the bulk thus enveloped\nwas brought forth by the power of contemplation. Love (Kama) was first\nformed in Its mind, and this was the original creative germ [34].\" And\nthe V\u00eada was, we have seen, adopted in the main by Sh\u00e2kjamuni; but the\ndevelopment of his views came to imply that there was no Creator at\nall, existences being only a series of necessary evolutions [35]. And\nwhen later a Creator came again to be spoken of, the term was involved\nin the most inconceivable contradictions [36]. A distinguished Roman\nOrientalist also writes:--\"The V\u00eada, and principally the Jazur-V\u00eada and\nthe Isa-Upanishad, contain not only many golden maxims, but distinct\ntraces of the primitive Monotheism. But these books exercise little\ninfluence on the religion of the people, which is a mass of idolatry\nand superstition; moreover, they are themselves filled with the most\nabsurd stories and fables. The Jazur-V\u00eada, which is the freest from\nthese defects, is a comparatively recent production, and the author\nhas manifestly drawn upon not only both Old and New Testament, but\nalso the Koran [37].\"\n\nAn infusion of the revealed doctrines taught by Christianity was\nalso received into it from the teaching of the missionaries of the\nfirst ages after the birth of Christ, though similarly disfigured and\noverwrought. To distinguish the influence of the one and the other\nwould be a fascinating study, but one too vast for the limits of the\npresent pages. When we come presently to the history of Vikram\u00e2ditja\nwe shall find it presents us with a striking idea of the facility with\nwhich various ideals can be heaped upon one personality; this will\nserve as a key to the mode in which an unenlightened admiration for the\nstory of our Divine Redeemer's life on earth may be supposed to have\ninduced the ascribing of His supernatural manifestations to another\nbeing, already accepted as Divine. It is true that certain appearances\nof Vishnu and Shiva on earth would seem to have been believed\nbefore the Christian era; and apart from the Indian writings, the\ndates of which are so difficult to fix, the testimony of Megasthenes\n(the Historian of Seleucus Nicanor, who wrote B.C. 300) is quoted in\nproof that at his time such incarnations were already held. But the\npassages in Megasthenes, by the very fact that he identifies Vishnu\nwith Hercules, tend only to demonstrate a belief in a different kind\nof manifestation of Divine power. Those who labour most to prove\nthat the Brahmanical idea of incarnation preceded the Christian have\nto allow that it was only subsequently to the spread of Christian\nteaching that it was fully developed. Thus Lassen writes, \"I have,\ntherefore (i. e. in consequence of the allusions in Megasthenes), no\nhesitation in maintaining that the dogma of Vishnu's incarnations\nwas in existence 300 years before the birth of Christ; still,\nhowever, it only received its full development at a subsequent period\n[38].\" And in another place, speaking of the Avat\u00e2ra (incarnations)\nof Vishnu, in the persons of the heroes of the epic poems, he adds,\n\"this dogma is unknown (fremd) to the V\u00eada, and the few allusions\nto such an idea existing in some of its myths, and which were later\nreckoned among the incarnations of Vishnu, show that in the earliest\nages the recurring appearance in man's nature of 'the preserving god'\nfor the destruction of evil was not yet invented. [39]\" And even of\nthe early epic poems he writes, that though such ideas are introduced,\nyet the heroes still maintain their individuality. They are actuated\nand indwelt by Vishnu, but they are not he. This, it will be seen,\nis very different from the Christian dogma of the Incarnation.\n\nWhether the extremely interesting and ancient tradition be genuine\n(as maintained by Tillemont) or not, that Abgarus, king of Edessa,\nsent messengers to our Lord in Jud\u00e6a, begging Him to come and visit him\nand heal him of his sickness, and that our Lord in reply sent him word\nthat He must do the work of Him Who sent Him and then return to Him\nabove, but that after His Ascension He would send an Apostle to him,\nand that in consequence of this promise St. Thomas received the far\nEast for the field of his labours--and, however much be chronologically\ncorrect of the mass of records and traditions which tell that this\nApostle travelled over the whole Asian continent, from Edessa to Tibet,\nand perhaps China--it would appear to be intrinsically probable and\nas well attested as most facts of equally remote date, that both this\nApostle and Thadd\u00e6us, one of the seventy-two disciples, preached the\nGospel in countries east of Syria, and that his successors, more or\nless immediate, extended their travels farther and farther east. It\nis mentioned in Eusebius (Book v. c. 10), that S. Pant\u00e6us, going to\nIndia to preach the Gospel early in the 3rd century (Eusebius himself\nwrote at the end of the same century), met with Brahmans who showed\nhim a copy of the Gospel of St. Matthew in Hebrew, which they said\nhad been given to their forerunners by St. Bartholomew [40]. Lassen\nhimself allows, that in all probability certain Brahmans, at a very\nearly date, fell in with Christian teachers, and brought them back\nhome with them. Further, that the idea of there being any merit in\nbhakti, or pious faith, and a development in the teaching concerning\nthe duty of prayer may be traced to this circumstance. Nor does he\ndeny that when in 435, Eustathius, Bp. of Antioch, with the help\nof Thomas Kama, a rich local merchant, went to found a mission at\nMah\u00e2devapatma (Cranganore), he found Christians who dated their\nconversion from St. Thomas living there. His further efforts to\ndisprove that St. Thomas himself penetrated very far east, and that the\nearly Christian establishments at Taprobane and Ceylon were founded\nby Persian Christians, though far from conclusive, tend as far as\nthey go but to support all the more the theory of an admixture of\nChristian with Brahmanical and Buddhist teaching; because, the less\npure the source of teaching the more likely it was to have resulted in\nproducing such an admixture in place of actual conversion. Nor does the\ncircumstance on which he lays much weight, that the Brahmans resented\nthe inroads of Christian teaching on their domain, even with severe\npersecutions, at all afford any proof that there were not Brahmanical\nteachers, who either through sincere admiration (for which they were\nprepared by their early monotheistic tradition), or from a conviction\nof the advantage to be derived in increase of influence by its means,\nor other cause, may have thought fit, or been even unconsciously led\nto incorporate certain ideas of the new school with their own.\n\n\n\nI have only space left to touch upon two of the most important of\nthese identifications. And first the imitation of the doctrine of\nthe Holy Trinity. Lassen (i. 784 and iv. 570) fixes as late a date\nas 1420-1445 for the introduction of the Trimurti worship, or, as\nhe expresses it, the bootless attempt to unite various schools by\npropounding the equality and unity of the three great rival gods,\nBrahma, Vishnu, and Shiva, who were the chief gods favoured by each\nrespectively. Devar\u00e2ja of Vigajanagara erected the first temple to the\nTrimurti about this date. Ganesha, the god of wisdom and knowledge,\nappeared to his minister Laxmana and bid him build a temple on the\nbanks of the Penar to the Hiranjagarbha, called Brahma, Vishnu, and\nShiva; this is the first example of any inscription of honour paid\nto the Trimurti [41].\n\nSecondly, the worship of the god Crishna, whose name and attributes as\nwell as his substitution for Vishnu, the second god of the Trimurti,\npresent so many analogies with the teaching concerning our Divine\nLord [42]. Whatever difficulty there may be in fixing the date of the\norigin of the great P\u00e2nkar\u00e2tra sect, there appears none in affirming\nthat the full development of its teaching in the direction of these\nanalogies was subsequent to the establishment of Christianity. This\nis how A. Weber speaks of it [43]. Brahmans, who had travelled to\nAlexandria, and perhaps Asia Minor, at a time when Christianity was\nin its first bloom, brought back its teaching respecting a Supreme God\nand a Christ whom they identified with and fastened upon their sage or\nhero, who had already in some measure received Divine honours--Crishna\nDevakiputra (Son of the divine woman). He also dwells on the influence\nexercised by the teaching of Christian missionaries. The importance\ngiven to Devaki would point to an incorporation of Christian\nteaching concerning the Virgin Mary. Weber, in a paper entitled\n\"Einige Data auf das Geburtsfest Krishna's,\" instances many passages\nin the Bavrishjottara-Purana (one of the latest Puranas), which it is\nimpossible to read without being reminded of the place of \"the Virgin\nand Child\" in Christian tradition, and which find no counterpart in\nearlier Indian writings. Similarly it was the later schools which\ndwelt on the fact of his having Nanda the herdsman for his father,\nseemingly suggested by our Lord's character of \"the good Shepherd,\"\nbecause in the earlier Crishna Legends [44] this fact is sunk in the\nview that (though sprung from the herdsmen) he was a warrior and a\nhero. Nor was the teaching concerning this character of Crishna at all\nrapid in its extension. Its chief seat, according to Lassen [45], in\nwhat he expresses as \"the earliest times,\" was Madura; but the first\ndate he mentions in connexion with it is 1017, when a Crishna temple\nwas destroyed by Mahm\u00fbd of Ghazna, Lalit\u00e2ditja, king of Cashmere,\nbuilt him a temple containing a statue of solid silver, and he reigned\nfrom 695 to 732; but the gold armour the image bore would point to\nhis warrior character still prevailing down to this time. Lassen even\nfinds [46] the introduction of the worship of Crishna [47] a subject\nof opposition by certain Brahmans as late as the tenth century. The\ngreat epic poem concerning him, the Gitagovinda, by Gajadeva (still\nsung at the present day at the Resa festival), was not written till\nthe end of the 12th century [48]. In an inscription at Gajanagara,\nnot very far from Madura, Crishna is mentioned as an incarnation of\nVishnu, but the date of this is 1288; and the idea does not seem to\nhave reached Orissa till the end of the 15th century [49].\n\n2. From this exordium we must plainly gather that the original\ncollector of these Tales was himself a Madhjamika, since he begins his\nwork with an invocation of N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una, founder of that school. He\ncalls him \"second teacher\" because his undertaking was, not to\nsupersede, but to develope and perfect the teaching of Sh\u00e2kjamuni,\nwhom he himself reverenced as first teacher [50].\n\nN\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una was the 15th Patriarch in the Buddhist succession, born\nin South India, and educated a Brahman; he wrote a Treatise, in 100\nchapters, on the Wisdom of the Buddhist Theology, and died B.C. 212\n(Lassen, \"Indische Alterthumskunde,\" ii., Appendix, p. vi.); but at\np. 887 of the same volume, and again at p. 1072, he tells us he lived\nin the reign of Abhimanju, king of Cashmere, and that it was by the\nassistance of his sage advice that the Buddhists were enabled for a\nwhile successfully to withstand opposition dictated by the Brahmanical\nproclivities of this king, whose date he fixes at 45-65 A.C. The\ndifference between the two dates arises out of that existing between\nthe computations of the northern and southern Buddhists [51]. In the\nRaga-Tarangini, ii. v. 172-177 (a chronicle of Cashmere, written not\nlater than A.D. 1148) N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una is thus alluded to: \"When 150 years\nhad passed by, since sacred Sh\u00e2kjamuni had completed his time in this\nworld of sufferers, there was a Bodhisattva [52], who was supreme head\nof all the earth. This was N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una, who possessed in himself the\npower of six Archats [53].... Protected by N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una the Buddhists\nobtained the chief influence in the country.\"\n\nAmong the Chinese Buddhists he is called Lung-shu, which name Abel\nR\u00e9musat tells us was given him because after death he was taken up\ninto the serpent-Paradise [54].\n\nThe following legend has been told concerning the manner of\nhis conversion from Brahmanism; but it is probable that what is\nhistorically true in it belongs to the life of another and much later\nBuddhist patriarch.\n\nA Samanaer [55] came wandering by his residence. Seeing it to be nobly\nbuilt, and pleasantly situated amid trees and fountains, and provided\nwith all that was needful and desirable for the life of man, made\nup his mind to obtain admission to it. N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una, before admitting\nhim, required to know whence, and what manner of man he was. On his\ndeclaring himself a teacher of Buddhism the door was immediately\nclosed against him. Determined not to be so easily repulsed the\nSamanaer knocked again and again, till N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una, provoked by his\npertinacity, appeared on the terrace above, and cried out to him,\n\"It is useless for you to go on knocking. In this house is nothing.\"\n\n\"Nothing!\" retorted the Samanaer; \"what sort of a thing is that, pray?\"\n\nN\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una saw by this answer the man must be of a philosophical\nturn of mind, and was thus induced to break his rule, which forbid\nhim intercourse with Buddhists, and let him in that he might have\nmore discourse with him. The Samanaer by degrees fascinated his mind\nwith the whole Buddhist doctrine, and ultimately told him that Buddha\nhad left a prophecy, saying, that long years after he had departed\nthis life there should arise a great teacher out of Southern India,\nwho by the wisdom of his teaching should renew the face of the earth;\nthat this prophecy he was destined to accomplish. N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una believed\nhis words, and subsequently fulfilled them.\n\nHis peculiar school received the name of M\u00e2dhjamika, because of\nthree prevailing interpretations of the earlier Buddhist teaching he\nchose the one which steered its course midway (madhjana) between two\nextremes, one of which held that the Buddhist nirv\u00e2na, implied the\nreturn and absorption of the soul at death into the creative essence\nwhence it had emanated; and the other, its total annihilation.\n\nHe left his ideas to posterity in a treatise, bearing the name of\nK\u00e2rik\u00e2, denoting an exposition of a theory in verse [56]. Some idea\nof its intricacy may be formed from the fact that the shortest edition\nof it contains eight thousand sections; while the most complete has a\nhundred thousand. His teaching was followed up by two chief disciples,\n\u00c2rjadeva, a Cingalese, and Buddhap\u00e2lita, and still holds sway in the\nhigher schools of Tibet, which accounts for the homage of the editor\nof these Mongolian tales. He is honoured almost everywhere where\nBuddhism is honoured; near Gaj\u00e2 is a kaitja, or rock-cut temple,\ncalled N\u00e2g\u00e2rgun\u00ee, probably commemorating some visit of his to the\nshrine of Sh\u00e2kjamuni.\n\n3. The whole of Buddhist literature is spoken of by its followers as\ncontained in three \"vessels,\" or \"baskets\"--trip\u00eetaka (Wassiljew,\np. 118, quoted by J\u00fclg); in Tibetian called samatog (K\u00f6ppen, Die\nLamaische Hierarchie, p. 57).\n\n4. Madhjamika. See above, Note 2.\n\n5. Param\u00e2rtha (true, exact, perfect understanding), and sanvrti\n(imperfect, dubious understanding), were party words, arising out\nof the philosophical disputes of the Madhjamika and Jog\u00e2tsch\u00e2rja\nschools. Wassiljew, pp. 321-367.\n\n6. Magadha. The legend is in this instance more precise than often\nfalls to the lot of works of this nature. Instead of transferring\nthe scene of action to a locality within the limits of the country\nof the narrator however, he makes N\u00e2g\u00e2rg'una to have lived on the\nborders of Magadha [57]. Lassen, speaking in allusion to the kaitja\nnamed after him, mentioned above, says there is no allusion in any\nauthentic account of him to his ever being in this part of the country;\nthis Mongolian tradition however corroborates the local tradition of\nthe kaitja. I have already had occasion to mention how Magadha came\nto receive its modern name of Behar [58].\n\nThe word Magadha is also used to designate a bard; as this meaning\nrests on no etymological foundation, it is natural to suppose that\nit arises from the fact of the country being rich in sagas, and that\nsuccessful bards sprang from its people. The office of the Magadha,\nalso called Vandin, the Speaker of praises, consisted chiefly in\nsinging before the king the deeds of his ancestors. In several\nplaces the Magadha is named along with the S\u00fbta [59]. It is quite\nin accordance with this view that Vj\u00e2sa's [60] mother was reckoned\na daughter of a king of Magadha.\n\nIt is curious that the poetical occupation of bard came to be combined\nwith the sordid occupation of pedlar, or travelling trader, who is\nalso called a Magadha in Manu x. 47, and other places.\n\n7. Krij\u00e2vidja. Writings concerning the study of magic.--J\u00fclg.\n\n8. Bede = Bhota, or Bothanga, the Indian name of Tibet. See Schmidt's\ntranslation of the \"History of the Mongols,\" by the native historian,\nsSanang sSetsen.\n\nBefore proceeding farther it is necessary to say a few words\nconcerning the history, religions, and customs of Tibet and Mongolia,\nto illustrate the local colouring the following Tales have received\nby passing into Mongolia.\n\nBuddhism nowhere took so firm a grasp of the popular mind as in Tibet,\nwhere it was established as early as the 7th century by its greatest\nking, Ssrong-Tsan-Gampo. No where, except in China, was its influence\non literature so powerful and so useful, for not only have we thus\npreserved to us very early translations from the Sanskrit of most of\nthe sacred writings, but also original treatises of history, geography,\nand philosophy. Nowhere, either, did it possess so many colleges and\nteachers; it was by means of these that it was spread over Mongolia\nin the 13th century; the very indistinct notions of religion there\nprevailing previously, with no hierarchy to maintain them, readily\nyielding at its approach. Mang-ku, grandson of Ginghis Khan [61],\nadded to the immense sovereignty his warlike ancestor had left him,\nthe whole of Tibet about the year 1248. His brother and successor,\nKublai Khan, who reigned from 1259 to 1290, occupied himself with\nthe internal development of his empire. He appears to have regarded\nChrist, Moses, Muhammed, and Buddha as prophets of equal authority,\nand to have finally adopted the religion of the last-named, because\nhe discerned the advantages to be derived in the consolidation of his\npower from the assistance of the Buddhist priests already possessing\nso great influence in Tibet. He was seconded in his design by the\neager assistance of a young Lama, named sSkja Pandita, and surnamed\nMatidhvaga = \"the ensign of penetration,\" whom he not only set over the\nwhole priesthood of the Mongolian empire, but made him also tributary\nruler of Tibet, with the grandiloquent titles of \"King of the great\nand precious teaching; the most excellent Lama; King of teaching in the\nthree countries of the Rhagh\u00e2n (empire).\" Among other rich insignia of\nhis dignity which he conferred on him was a precious jasper seal. He\nis most commonly mentioned by the appellation, Phagss-pa = \"the most\nexcellent,\" which has hence often been taken erroneously for his\nname; his chief office was the coronation of the Emperor. The title,\nDalai Lama [62], the head of Tibetian Buddhism, is half Mongolian,\nand half Tibetian. Dalai is Mongolian for \"ocean,\" and Lama Tibetian\nfor \"priest;\" making, \"a priest whose rule is vast as the ocean.\"\n\nOf the four Kh\u00e2nats or kingdoms into which the Mongolian Empire\nwas divided, that called Juan bordered on Tibet, and to its Kh\u00e2ns\nconsequently was committed the government of that country; but they\ninterfered very little with it, so that the power of the people was\nleft to strengthen itself. The last of them, Shan-ti, or Tokatmar-Kh\u00e2n,\nwas turned out in 1368 by Hong-vu, the founder of the Ming dynasty,\nwho sought to extend his power by weakening that of the Lamas. In\norder to this he set up four chief ones in place of one. Jong-lo who\nreigned from 1403 to 1425, further divided the power among eight; but\nthis very subdivision tended to a return to the original supremacy of\none; for, while all bore the similar title of Vang = \"little king,\"\nor \"sub-king,\" it became gradually necessary that among so many one\nshould take the lead, and for this one the title of Garma or patriarch\nwas coined ere long.\n\nThe Tibetians and Mongolians receiving thus late the doctrines of\nSh\u00e2kjamuni received a version of it very different from his original\nteaching. The meditations and mystifications of his followers had\ninvested him with ever new prerogatives, and step by step he had\ncome to be considered no longer in the light of an extraordinary\nteacher, or even a heaven-sent founder of religion, but as himself\nthe essence of truth and the object of supreme adoration. Out of\nthis theory again ramified developments so complicated as almost to\ndefy condensation. Thus Addi-Buddha, as he was now called, it was\ntaught was possessed of five kinds of gn\u00e2na or knowledge; and by five\noperations of his dhj\u00e2na or contemplative power he was supposed to\nhave produced five Dhj\u00e2ni-Buddhas, each of which received a special\nname, and in process of time became personified and deified too,\nand each by virtue of an emanation of the supreme power indwelling\nhim had brought forth a Dhj\u00e2ni-Bodhisattva. The fourth of these,\ndistinguished as Dhj\u00e2ni-Bodhisattva-Padmap\u00e2ni, was the Creator, not\nonly of the universe, but also of Brahma and other gods whom Sh\u00e2kjamuni\nor his earlier followers had acknowledged as more or less supreme. And\nas if this strange theogony was not perplexing enough, there had come\nto be added to the cycle of objects of worship a multitude of other\ndeifications too numerous even to name here in detail.\n\nAmong all these, Dhj\u00e2ni-Bodhisattva-Padmap\u00e2ni is reckoned the chief\ngod by the Mongolians. The principal tribute of worship paid him\nis the endless repetition of the ejaculation, \"Om Manipadmi hum\"\n= \"Hail Manipadmi O!\" Every one has heard of the prayer-machine,\nthe revolutions of whose wheel set going by the worshipper count\nas so many exclamations to his account. \"The instrument is called\nTchu-Kor (turning prayer),\" writes Abb\u00e9 Huc. \"You see a number of\nthem in every brook\" (in the neighbourhood of a Lamaseri) \"turned\nby the current.... The Tartars suspend them also over the fireplace\nto send up prayer for the peace and prosperity of the household;\"\nhe mentions also many most curious incidents in connexion with this\npractice. Another similar institution is printing the formulary an\nimmense number of times on numbers of sheets of paper, and fixing\nthem in a barrel similarly turned by running water. Baron Schilling de\nKanstadt has given us (in \"Bulletin Hist. Phil. de l'Ac. des Sciences\nde S. Petersburg,\" iv. No. 22) an interesting account of the bargain he\nstruck with certain Mongolian priests at Kiakhtu, on the Russo-Chinese\nfrontier. It was their great aim to multiply this ejaculation a hundred\nmillion times, a feat they had never been able to accomplish. They\nshowed him a sheet which was the utmost reach of their efforts, but\nthe sum total of which was only 250. The Baron sent to St. Petersburg\nand had a sheet printed, in which the words were repeated seventy\ntimes one way and forty-one times the other, giving 2870 times, but\nbeing printed in red they counted for 25 times as many, or 71,750;\nthen he had twenty-four such sheets rolled together, making 1,793,750,\nso that about seventy revolutions of the barrel would give the required\nnumber. In return for this help the Mongolian Lama gave him a complete\ncollection of the sacred writings in the Tibetian language; Tibetian\nbeing the educated, or at least the sacred, language of Mongolia.\n\nConcerning the meaning of this ejaculation, Abb\u00e9 Huc has the\nfollowing:--\"According to the opinion of the celebrated Orientalist\nKlaproth, the 'Om mani padme houm' is merely the Tibetian transcription\nof a Sanskrit formula brought from India to Tibet with the introduction\nof Buddhism and letters.... This formula has in the Sanskrit a distinct\nand complete meaning which cannot be traced in the Tibetian idiom. Om\nis among the Hindoos, the mystic name of the Divinity, and all their\nprayers begin with it. It is composed of A, standing for Vishnu, O,\nfor Siva, and M, for Brahma. This mystic particle is also equivalent\nto the interjection O! It expresses a profound religious conviction,\nand is a sort of act of faith; mani signifies a gem, a precious thing;\npadma, the lotus, padme, vocative case. Lastly, houm is a particle\nexpressing a wish, and is equivalent to the use of the word Amen. The\nliteral sense then of this phrase is\n\n\n                \"Om mani padme houm.\"\n                O the gem in the lotus. Amen.\n\n\nIn the Ramajana, where Vasichta destroys the sons of Visvamitra [63]\nhe is said to do so by his hungkara, his breathing forth of his desire\nof vengeance, but literally by his breathing the interjection 'hum.'\n\n\"The Buddhists of Tibet and Mongolia, however, have tortured their\nimagination to find a mystic interpretation of each of these six\nsyllables. They say the doctrine contained in them is so immense\nthat a life is insufficient to measure it. Among other things, they\nsay the six classes of living beings [64] correspond to these six\nsyllables.... By continual transmigrations according to merit, living\nbeings pass through these six classes till they have attained the\nheight of perfection, absorbed into the essence of Buddha.... Those\nwho repeat the formula very frequently escape passing after death\ninto these six classes.... The gem being the emblem of perfection,\nand the lotus of Buddha, it may perhaps be considered that these\nwords express desire to acquire perfection in order to be united with\nBuddha--absorbed in the one universal soul: \"Oh, the gem of the lotus,\nAmen,\" might then be paraphrased thus:--\"O may I obtain perfection,\nand be absorbed in Buddha, Amen!\" making it a summary of a vast system\nof Pantheism.\n\nBuddhism, however, received its greatest and most remarkable\nmodification in this part of the world from the teaching of an\nextraordinary Lama, named bThong-kha-pa, who rose to eminence in the\nreign of Jong-lo, and is regarded with greatest veneration among not\nonly the Tibetians and Mongolians, including the remotest tribes of\nthe Khalmouks, but also by the more polished Chinese, and more or\nless wherever Buddhism prevails.\n\nThough subsequently pronounced to be an incarnation of Shiva he\nwas born in the year 1357, in the Lamaseri of ssKu-bun = \"a hundred\nthousand images,\" on the Kuku-noor, or Blue Lake, in the south-west\npart of the Amdo country, several days' journey from the city of\nSining-fu. In his youth he travelled to gTsang-lschhn, or Lhassa,\nin order to gain the most perfect knowledge of Buddhist teaching, and\nduring his studies there determined on effecting various reforms in\nthe prevailing ideas. He met with many partisans, who adopted a yellow\ncap as their badge, in contradistinction from the red cap heretofore\nworn, and styled themselves the dGe-luges-pa = \"the Virtuous.\" Besides\nintroducing a stricter discipline his chief development of the Buddhist\ndoctrines consisted in teaching distinctly that Buddha was possessed\nof a threefold nature, which was to be recognized, the first in his\nlaws, the second in his perfections, the third in his incarnations.\n\nThe supreme rule of the Buddhist religion in Tibet also received\nits present form under the impulse of his labours. His nephew,\ndGe-dun-grub-pa (born circa 1390, died 1475), was the first Dalai\nLama. He built the celebrated Lama Palace of bKra-schiss-Lhun-po,\nthirty miles N. of Lhassa, in 1445. Under him, too, was established\nthe institution of the Pan-tschhen-Rin-po-tsche (the great venerable\njewel of teaching), or Contemplative Lama. Tsching-Hva, the eighth\nEmperor of the Ming Dynasty, established their joint authority as\nsuperior to all the eight princely Lamas set up by Jo-long [65].\n\nAbb\u00e9 Huc, in the course of his enterprising missionary travels,\nvisited all the places I have had occasion to mention, spending a\nconsiderable time at some of them. By local traditions, collected by\nword of mouth and from Lamaistic records, he gives us a most fantastic\nand entertaining narrative of Tsong-Kaba, as he calls the Buddhist\nreformer: of the fables concerning his birth; of the marvellous\ntree that grew from his hair when his mother cut it; of his mature\nintelligence in his tenderest years; his supernatural call to Lha-sa\n(Land of Spirits); and of the very peculiar mode of argument by which\nhe converted Buddha Chakdja, the Lama of the Red Cap. More important\nthan all this, however, is the light he throws on the mode in which\nthe great incorporation of Christian ideas and ceremonial into Buddhist\nteaching came about. During his years of retirement Tsong-Kaba became\nacquainted with a mysterious teacher \"from the far West,\" almost beyond\nquestion \"one of those Catholic missionaries who at this precise period\npenetrated in such numbers into Upper Asia.\" The very description\npreserved of his face and person is that of a European. This strange\nteacher died, we know not by what means, while Tsong-kaba was yet in\nthe desert; and he appears to have accepted as much of his doctrine as\neither he had only time to learn or as suited his purpose, and this\nin the main had reference \"to the introduction of a new Liturgy. The\nfeeble opposition which he encountered in his reformation would seem\nto indicate that already the progress of Christian ideas in these\ncountries had materially shaken the faith in Buddha.... The tribe\nof Amdo, previously altogether obscure, has since this reformation\nacquired a prodigious celebrity.... The mountain at the foot of\nwhich Tsong-Kaba was born became a famous place of pilgrimage; Lamas\nassembled there from all parts to build their cells [66]; and thus\nby degrees was formed that flourishing Lamasery, the fame of which\nextends to the remotest confines of Tartary. It is called Komboun,\nfrom two Tibetian words, signifying ten thousand images. He died at\nthe Lamasery of Khaldan ('celestial beatitude'), situated on the top\nof a mountain about four leagues east of Lha-Ssa, said to have been\nfounded by him in 1409. The Tibetians pretend that they still see his\nmarvellous body there fresh and incorruptible, sometimes speaking,\nand by a permanent prodigy always holding itself in the air without\nany support.\n\n\"Mongolia is at present divided into several sovereignties, whose\nchiefs are subject to the Emperor of China, himself a Tartar, but of\nthe Mantchu race. These chiefs bear titles corresponding to those of\nkings, dukes, earls, barons, &c. They govern their states according\nto their own pleasure. They acknowledge as sovereign only the Emperor\nof China. Whenever any difference arises between them they appeal\nto Pekin and submit to its decisions implicitly. Though the Mongol\nsovereigns consider it their duty to prostrate themselves once a year\nbefore the 'Sun of Heaven,' they nevertheless do not concede to him\nthe right of dethroning their reigning families. He may, they say,\ncashier a king for gross misconduct, but he is bound to fill up the\nvacant place with one of the superseded prince's sons.... Nothing can\nbe more vague and indefinite than these relations.... In practice\nthe will of the Emperor is never disputed.... All families related\nto any reigning family form a patrician caste and are proprietors of\nthe soil.... They are called Taitsi, and are distinguished by a blue\nbutton surmounting their cap. It is from these that the sovereigns of\nthe different states select their ministers, who are distinguished\nby a red button.... In the country of the Khalkhas, to the north\nof the desert of Gobi, there is a district entirely occupied by\nTaitsi, said to be descendants of Tchen-kis-Khan.... They live in\nthe greatest independence, recognizing no sovereign. Their wealth\nconsists in tents and cattle. Of all the Mongolian regions it is\nthis district in which are to be found most accurately preserved\npatriarchal manners, just as the Bible describes them, though every\nwhere also more or less prevailing.... The Tartars who are not Taitsi\nare slaves, bound to keep their master's herds, but not forbidden\nto herd cattle of their own. The noble families differ little from\nthe slave families ... both live in tents and both occupy themselves\nwith pasturing their flocks. When the slave enters the master's tent\nhe never fails to offer him tea and milk; they smoke together and\nexchange pipes. Round the tents young slaves and young noblemen romp\nand wrestle together without distinction. We met with many slaves\nwho were richer than their masters.... Lamas born of slave families\nbecome free in some degree as soon as they enter the sacerdotal life;\nthey are no longer liable to enforced labour, and can travel without\ninterference.\" He further describes the Mongols in general as a hardy,\nlaborious, peace-loving people, usually simple and upright in their\ndealings, devout and punctual in such religious faith and observances\nas they have been taught, caring, however, little for mental studies,\noccupied only with their flocks and herds, and continually overreached\nby the Chinese in all their dealings with them.\n\n9. C\u00eetavana, a burying-place.--J\u00fclg.\n\n10. Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr, a dead body endowed with supernatural or magic powers\n(Siddhi, Sanskr., perfection of power).\n\n11. Mango-tree, Mangifera indica. Lassen (Indische Alterthumskunde,\ni. 276) calls it \"the Indians' favourite tree; their household\ncompanion; rejoicing their existence; the cool and cheerful shade\nof whose groves embowers their villages, surrounds their fountains\nand pools with freshness, and affords delicious coolness to the\nKaravan-halt: one of the mightiest of their kings (Ash\u00f4ka, 246\nB.C.) makes it his boast (in an Inscription given in \"Journal of\nAsiatic Soc. of Bengal,\" vi. 595) that besides the wide-spreading shade\nof the fig-tree he had also planted the leafy mango.\" In Sanskrit,\n\u00e2mra, k\u00fbta, ras\u00e2la (rich in juice). Crawford (Ind. Arch. i. 424)\nsays the fruit is called in Sanskrit mah\u00e2phala, \"the great fruit,\"\nwhence the Telingu word Mahampala and the Malay Mamplans and Manga,\nwhence the European Mango. It grows more or less all over India from\nCeylon to the Him\u00e2lajas, except perhaps in the arid north-east highland\nof the Dekhan, but it reaches its most luxuriant development in Malabar\nand over the whole west coast. Besides its luxuriant shade its blossoms\nbear the most delicious scent, and its glorious gold-coloured fruit\noften attains a pound in weight, though its quality is much acted upon\nby site and climate. In Malabar it ripens in April; in Bengal, in May;\nin Bhotan, not till August. There are also many kinds--some affording\nnourishment to the poorest, and some appearing only on the tables of\nthe opulent. Bp. Heber (\"Journey,\" i. 522) pronounces it the largest\nof all fruit-bearing trees. To the high regard in which this tree was\nheld it is to be ascribed that the story makes the Siddh\u00ee-k\u00fcr prefer\ngiving himself up to the Khan rather than let it be felled.\n\n12. Gambudv\u00eepa, native name for India. See infra, Note 6, Tale XXII.,\nand Note 6 to \"Vikram\u00e2ditja's Birth.\"\n\n13. Only magic words of no meaning.\n\n14. The \"white moon,\" designated the moon in the waxing quarter;\nmeaning that the axe had the form of a sickle.--J\u00fclg.\n\n\n\nTALE I.\n\n1. Songs commemorating the deeds of the departed, were sung at\ntheir funeral rites, often instead of erecting monuments to them;\nthe fixing their acts in the memory of the living being considered\na more lasting memorial than a tablet of stone. Probably the custom\noriginated before the discovery of the art of writing; it seems,\nhowever, to have been continued afterwards. G\u00e2th\u00e2 was the name given to\nthese songs in praise of ancestry, particularly the ancestors of kings,\nusually accompanied by the lute. Weber, Indische Studien, i. p. 186,\ngives specimen translations from such.\n\n2. The elephant is the subject of frequent mention in the very oldest\nwritings of India. He is mentioned as a useful and companionable beast\njust as at the present day, in the V\u00eada, and the Manu (e. g. Rig-V\u00eada,\ni. 84, 17, \"Whoso calls upon Indra in any need concerning his sons,\nhis elephants, his goods and possessions, himself or his people,\n&c.\"). In the epic poems, he is constantly mentioned as the ordinary\nmount of warriors. There is no tradition, however, as to his being\nfirst tamed and brought under the service of man, though the art\npenetrated so little into the islands of Borneo and Sumatra, that the\ninhabitants used to smear themselves and their plants with poison as\nthe best protection against being devoured by him as a wild beast.\n\nThe elephant is distributed over the whole of India from Ceylon to\nChina, wherever there is sufficient growth of foliage. In a domestic\nstate he may live to 120 years, probably nearly double that time\nwhen left wild; he is reckoned at his strongest prime in his sixtieth\nyear. His habit is to live in herds.\n\nA beast so intelligent and available as an aid to man, and particularly\nto a primitive people, naturally took an important place in the\nmythology of the country. We find this saliently impressed on the\narchitectural decorations of the country; constantly he is to be\nseen used as a karyatyd; the world is again seen resting on the\nbacks of four huge elephants, or the king of gods carried along by\none. It is a curious instance of appreciativeness of the acuteness\nof the sensibility of the elephant's trunk, that Ganesha, the god\nwho personifies the sense of touch, is represented gifted with\nsuch an appendage. It is among the Buddhistic peoples we find him\nmost especially honoured. In Ceylon the white elephant (a variety\nactually found in the most easterly provinces) is regarded as a divine\nincarnation; \"Ruler of the white elephant,\" is one of the titles of\nthe Birmese Emperor; in Siam also it is counted sacred. In war he was\nan invaluable ally: they called him the Eightfold-armed one, because\nhis four tramping feet, his two formidable tusks, his hard frontal\nbone and his tusk supply eight weapons. The number of elephants a\nking could bring into the field was counted among his most important\nmunitions of war and constituted one principal element of his power.\n\nThe derivation of the word elephant does not seem easy to fix, but the\nbest supported opinion is that it is a Greek adoption of the Sanskrit\nword for ivory ibhadanta, compounded with the Arabic article al from\nits having been received along with the article itself through Arabian\ntraders; the transition from alibhadanta to >El'eyac, >El'eyantoc,\nis easily conceived [67].\n\nAmong the Brahmanical writers the most ordinary designation was gag'a;\nalso ibha, probably from ibhja, mighty, but they had an infinite\nnumber of others; such as r\u00e2g av\u00e2hja, \"the king-bearer;\" matanga,\n\"doing that which (he) is meant (to do); dvirada, \"the two-toothed;\"\nhastin or karin, \"the handed\" (beast), or beast with a hand, for the\nIndians, like the Romans, call his trunk a hand; dvipa, dvip\u00e2jin,\nan\u00eakapa, \"the twice drinking,\" or \"more than once drinking,\" in\nallusion to his taking water first into his trunk and then pouring\nit down his throat. Among the facts and early notions concerning\nhim, collected and handed down by \u00c6lianus, are the following:--that\nelephants were employed by various kings to keep watch over them by\nnight, an office which their power of withstanding sleep facilitated;\nthat in a wild state, they frequently had encounters with the larger\nserpents, whose first plan was to climb up into the trees and then\ndart upon and throttle them. But the most curious remark of all is,\nthat they were endowed with a certain kind of religion, and that\nwhen wounded, overladen, or injured, it was their custom to look\nup to heaven, asking why they had been thus dealt with. (\u00c6lianus,\nDe Nat. Anim. v. 49 and vii. 44; also Pliny, viii. 12. 2.) There\nare also legends about their paying divine honours to the sun and\nmoon, and in the Indian collection of fables called the Hitopadesha,\nthere is one of an elephant being conducted by a hare to worship the\nreflection of the moon in a lake.\n\nIn peace they were equally serviceable as in war, and were employed not\nonly for riding, but for ploughing. A beast so useful was naturally\ntreated with great regard, and we read of Indian princes keeping\na special physician to attend to the ailments of their elephants,\nand particularly to have care of their eyesight (\u00c6lianus, De\nNat. Anim. xiii. 7).\n\n3. The office of the erliks or servants of Erlik-Khan, (see next note)\nwas to bring every soul before this judge to receive from him the\nsentence determining their state in their next re-birth, according\nto the merits or demerits of their last past existence. (Schmidt's\ntranslation of sSanang sSetsen, 417-421, quoted by J\u00fclg.)\n\n4. Erlik-Khan is the Tibetian name of Jama (Sanskrit), the Judge\nof the Dead and Ruler over the abode of the Departed; he is son of\nVivasvat or the Sun considered as \"the bringer forth and nourisher of\nall the produce of the earth and seer of all that is on it.\" Vivasvat\nhas another son, Manu, the founder of social life and source of\nall kingly dynasties. (Lassen, Indische Alterthumskunde, i. 19,\n20.) As with all mythological personages or embodiments, however,\nthe characteristics of Jama have undergone considerable modifications\nunder the handling of different teachers and peoples in different\nages, and in some Indian writings he is spoken of as if he were\nthe personification of conscience. Thus, in the ancient collection\nof laws called the Manu (viii. 92) occurs the following passage,\n\"Within thine heart dwells the god Jama, the son of Vivasvat: when\nthou hast no variance with him, thou hast no need to repair to the\nGang\u00e2, nor the Kurux\u00eatra;\" meaning clearly, \"If thou hast nothing on\nthy conscience, thou hast no object in making a pilgrimage.\" Muni,\n\"who keepeth watch over virtue and over sin,\" however, more properly\nrepresents conscience. Sir William Jones, in quoting the above passage,\ninserts the words \"subduer of all\" after \"Jama,\" probably not without\nsome good reason or authority for assigning to him that character.\n\nLassen finds early mention of a people living on the westernmost\nborders of the valley of the Indus (iii. 352, 353) who paid special\nhonour to Jama as god of death, deprecating his wrath with offerings\nof beasts; and he connects with it a passage in \u00c6lianus, who wrote on\nIndia in the 3rd century of our era, making mention of a bottomless\npit or cave of Pluto, \"in the land of the Aryan Indians,\" into which\n\"every one who had heard a divine voice or met with an evil omen,\nthrew a beast according to the measure of his possessions; thousands\nof sheep, goats, oxen and horses being sacrificed in this way. He says\nfurther that there was no need to bind or drive them, as a supernatural\npower constrained them to go without resistance. He appears also to\nhave believed that notwithstanding the height from which they were\nthrown, they continued a mysterious existence in the regions beneath.\n\n\"To walk the path of Jama,\" is an expression for dying, in the very\nearly poems; and a battle-field was called the camp of Jama (Lassen,\ni. 767). In the V\u00eada, the South, which is also reckoned the place of\nthe infernal regions, is spoken of as the kingdom of Jama (i. 772).\n\n5. Mandala, a magic circle. (Wassiljew, 202, 205, 212, 216, quoted\nby J\u00fclg.)\n\n\n\nTALE II.\n\n1. Dragons, serpents, serpent-gods, serpent-d\u00e6mons (n\u00e2ga), play a\ngreat part in Indian mythology. Their king is Shesa. Serpent-cultus\nwas of very ancient observance and is practised by both followers of\nBrahmanism and Buddhism. The Brahmans seem to have desired to show\ntheir disapproval of it by placing the serpent-gods in the lower\nranks of their mythology (Lassen, i. 707 and 544, n. 2). This cultus,\nhowever, seems to have received a fresh development about the time of\nAshoka, circa 250 B.C. (ii. 467). When Madhjantika went into Cashmere\nand Gandh\u00e2ra to teach Buddhism after the holding of the third Synod,\nit is mentioned that he found sacrifices to serpents practised\nthere (ii. 234, 235). There is a passage in Plutarch from which it\nappears the custom to sacrifice an old woman (previously condemned\nto death for some crime) in honour of the serpent-gods by burying\nher alive on the banks of the Indus (ii. 467, and note 4). Ktesias\nalso mentions the serpent-worship (ii. 642). In Buddhist legends,\nserpents are often mentioned as protecting-patrons of certain towns\n(ii. 467). Among the many kinds of serpents which India possesses,\nit is the gigantic Cobra di capello which is the object of worship\n(ii. 679). (See further notice of the serpent-worship, iv. 109.)\n\nIt would seem that the Buddhist teachers, too, discouraged the\nworship at the beginning of their career at least, for when the\nSthavira Madhjantika was sent to convert Cashmere, as above mentioned\nhe was so indignant at the extent to which he found serpent-worship\ncarried, that it is recorded in the Mah\u00e2vansha, xii. p. 72, that he\ncaused himself to be carried through the air dispersing them; that\nthey sought by every means to scare him away--by thunder and storm,\nand by changing themselves into all manner of hideous shapes, but\nfinding the attempt vain, they gave in and accepted the teaching of\nthe Sthavira, like the rest of the country. Under which last image,\nwe can easily read the fact that the Buddhist teacher suffered his\nfollowers to continue the worship, while he set limits to it and\ndelivered them from the extreme awe in which they had previously\nstood of the serpents. See also note 4 to Tale XXII.\n\n2. Strong drink. See note 8 to Tale V., and note 3 to Tale VI.\n\n3. Baling-cakes. See notes 6 and 9 to Tale IV.\n\n4. On the custom adopted by priests of hiding precious objects in\nthe sacred images of the gods, see Lassen, Indische Alterthumskunde,\niii. 351.\n\n\n\nTALE III.\n\n1. Milk-broth is mentioned by Abb\u00e9 Huc repeatedly in his travels as\na staple article of food in Mongolia.\n\n2. Schimnu or Schumnu (in Sanskrit, K\u00e2ma or M\u00e2ra) is the Buddhist\nDevil, or personified evil. He is also the God of Love, Sin, and\nDeath, the Prince of the third or lower world. Sensuality is called\nhis kingdom. The Schumnus are represented as tempters and doing all\nin their power to hinder mortals in their struggle after perfection,\nand in this view, take every sort of forms according to their design\nat the time. They as often appear in female as in male form. Schmidt's\ntranslation of sSanang sSetsen.\n\n3. As an instance of the migration of myths, I may mention here,\nthat I met in Spain with a ballad, which I am sorry I have mislaid\nand cannot therefore quote the verse, in which the love-lorn swain in\nsinging the praises of his mistress, among other charms enumerates,\nthat the flowers spring from the stones as she treads her way through\nthe streets.\n\nThe present story, too, reminds forcibly in all its leading details of\nthe legend I have entitled \"The Ill-tempered Princess,\" in \"Patra\u00f1as,\"\nthough so unlike in the d\u00e9nouement.\n\n4. I have had occasion to speak in another place of the early\nIndian's belief in the dwelling of the gods being situated among\nthe inaccessible heights which bound his sight and his fancy. The\nmountain of Meer\u00fb was a spot so sacred that it was fabled the sun\nmight not pass it. Consult Lassen, i. 847, &c. &c.\n\n5. Churmusta = Indra. The ruler of the lower gods, king of the earth\nand of the spirits of the air; his heaven is the place of earthly\npleasures. D\u00e6mons often go to war with him to obtain entrance into\nhis paradise, and he can only fight them through the agency of an\nearthly hero (Brockhaus, Somadeva Bhatta, i. 213); hence it is that\nhe calls Massang to fight the Schimnu-Khan for him.\n\nAccording to Abb\u00e9 Huc's spelling, Hormoustha.\n\n\n\nTALE IV.\n\n1. Here is one of the numerous instances where the Mongolian\ntale-repeater introduces into the Indian story details drawn to the\nlife from the manners and customs around him of his own people. Compare\nwith it the following sketch from personal observation in Mongolia,\ngiven in Abb\u00e9 Huc's \"Travels:\"--\"You sometimes come upon a plain\ncovered with animation; tents and herds dotted all over it.... It is\na place whither the greater supply of water and the choicer pastures\nhave attracted for a time a number of nomadic families; you see\nrising in all directions tents of various dimensions, looking like\nballoons newly inflated and just about to take flight; children with\na sort of hod upon their backs run about collecting argols (dried\ndung for fuel), which they pile up in heaps round their respective\ntents. The women look after the calves, make tea in the open air,\nor prepare milk in various ways; the men, mounted on fiery horses,\narmed with a long pole, gallop about, guiding to the best pastures\nthe great herds of cattle which undulate over the surrounding country\nlike waves of the sea. All of a sudden these pictures, anon so full\nof animation, disappear. Men, tents, herds, all have vanished in the\ntwinkling of an eye. You see nothing left behind but deserted heaps\nof embers, half-extinguished fires, and a few bones of which birds\nof prey are disputing the possession. Such are the sole vestiges that\na Mongol tribe has just passed that way. The animals having devoured\nall the grass around, the chief gives the signal for departure, and\nall the herdsmen, folding their tents, drive their herds before them,\nno matter whither, in search of fresh pastures.\"\n\nThis nomadic life, characteristic of the Mongols, would seem never\nat any time to have entered into Indian manners and customs. Though\nin early times pastoral occupations so engrossed them that they have\nleft deep traces in their language (e. g. gotra, meaning originally a\nbreed of cows, came to stand for a family lineage; and g\u00f4pa, g\u00f4pala,\noriginally a cowherd, for a prince), and the hymns of the Rig-V\u00eada\nare full of invocations of blessings on the herds (Rig V. 1. 42,\n8. 67, 3. 118, 2); yet wherever they came they occupied themselves\nwith agriculture also, and settled themselves down with social habits\nwhich early led to the foundation of cities. Consult Lassen, i. 494,\n685, 815, &c.\n\n2. Abb\u00e9 Huc incidentally mentions also this practice of carrying the\nproduce of the flocks and herds stored in sheep's paunches, as the\npresent common usage of the Mongolians, and adopted by himself among\nthe provisions for his journeyings among them (vol. ii. chap. iii.,\nand other places).\n\n3. Marmot. The sandy plains of Tibet are frequently inhabited by\nmarmots, who live together in holes, and whose fur is at the present\nday an important article of the Tibetian trade both with India and\nChina. It is now generally allowed that it must be these beasts which\nwere intended in the marvellous accounts of the old Greek writers\nof the gold-digging ants. Though the Indians themselves gave them\nthe name of ants, pip\u00eelika (e. g. Mah\u00e2 Bh\u00e2rata, i. p. 375, v. 1860),\nthe description of them would pass exactly for that of this little\nanimal--in size somewhat smaller than a fox, covered with fur, in\nhabits social, living in holes underground in the winter.\n\n4. See note 3 to \"The False Friend.\"\n\n5. The number five is a favourite number in Buddhistic teaching,\nritual and ceremonies. (Wassiljew, quoted by J\u00fclg.) To Bodhidsarma,\nthe last Indian patriarch, on his removal to China, is ascribed this\nsentence: \"I came to this country to make known the law and to free\nmen from their passions. Every blossom that brings forth fruit hath\nfive petals, and thus have I fulfilled my undertaking.\" (Abel Remusat,\nMel. As. p. 125.) One of Buddha, or at least, \u00c2di-Buddha's titles,\nparticularly in Tibet, is Pankagn\u00e2n\u00e2tmaka, or \"him possessed of five\nkinds of gn\u00e2na\" or knowledge (Notices of the Religion of the Bouddhas,\nby B. Hodgson), and this formed the basis of the complicated system\nof the later Buddhists.\n\nThe Brahmans, too, had five sacred observances which they aimed\nat exercising; the study of their sacred books, to offer sacrifice\nto the manes, the gods and all creatures, hospitality, and thereby\nincrease as well their own virtue and renown as that of their fathers\nand mothers. The five necessary things are clothes, food, drink,\ncoverlets for sleeping, and medicine.\n\nThe five colours are blue, white, green, yellow, and red. (K\u00f6ppen,\nii. 307, note 3.)\n\n6. Baling-cakes are figures made of dough or rice paste, generally\npyramidal in form, covered with cotton wool or some inflammable\nmaterial smeared over with brown colour and then set fire to. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n7. R\u00e2kschasas, Bopp (note to his translation of the Ramajana) calls\nthem giants. In the mythology they are evil demons inimical to man;\nvampires in human form, generally of hideous aspect, but capable of\nassuming beautiful appearances in order to tempt and deceive.\n\nThere is no doubt, however, it was the Raxasas, the wild people\ninhabiting the country south of the Vindhja range at the time of\nthe immigration of the Aryan Indians, whose fierce disposition, and\ncruel treatment of the Brahmans gave rise to the above conception of\nthe word. Consult Lassen, Ind. Altert. i. 535, where passages giving\nthem this character are quoted; also pp. 582, 583.\n\n8. Manggus, Mongolian name for R\u00e2kschasas. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n9. The present mode of treating the sick in Mongolia would seem much\nthe same. Abb\u00e9 Huc thus describes what he himself witnessed:--\"Medicine\nis exclusively practised by the Lamas. When any one is ill the\nfriends run for a Lama, whose first proceeding is to run his fingers\nover the pulse of both wrists simultaneously.... All illness is\nowing to the visitation of a tchatgour or demon, but its expulsion\nis a matter of medicine.... He next prescribes a specific ... the\nmedical assault being applied, the Lama next proceeds to spiritual\nartillery. If the patient be poor the tchatgour visiting him can only\nbe an inferior spirit, to be dislodged by an interjectional exorcism\n... and the patient may get better or die according to the decree of\nHormoustha.... But a devil who presumes to visit an eminent personage\nmust be a potent devil and cannot be expected to travel away like\na mere sprite; the family are accordingly directed to prepare for\nhim a handsome suit of clothes, a pair of rich boots, a fine horse,\nsometimes also a number of attendants.... The aunt of Toukuna was\nseized one evening with an intermittent fever.... The Lama pronounced\nthat a demon of considerable rank was present. Eight other Lamas were\ncalled in, who set about the construction of a great puppet (baling)\nwhich they entitled 'Demon of Intermittent Fevers,' and which they\nplaced erect by means of a stick in the patient's tent. The Lamas\nthen ranged themselves in a circle with cymbals, shells, bells,\ntambourines, and other noisy instruments, the family squatting on\nthe ground opposite the puppet. The chief Lama had before him a large\ncopper basin, filled with millet and some more little puppets.... A\ndiabolical discordant concert then commenced, the chief Lama now and\nthen scattering grains of millet towards the four quarters of the\ncompass ... ultimately he rose and set the puppet on fire. As soon as\nthe flames rose he uttered a great cry, repeated with interest by the\nrest, who then also rose, seized the burning figure, carried it away to\nthe plain, and consumed it.... The patient was then removed to another\ntent.... The probability is that the Lamas having ascertained the time\nat which the fever-fit would recur meet it by a counter excitement.\"\n\n10. The respective occupations of men and women seem to remain at\nthe present pretty much the same in Mongolia as here introduced by\nthe tale-repeater. Abb\u00e9 Huc writes: \"Household and family cares rest\nentirely upon the women; it is she who milks the cows and prepares\nthe butter, cheese, &c.; who goes no matter how far to draw water;\nwho collects the argols (dried dung for fuel), dries it and piles\nit round the tent. The tanning skins, fulling cloth, making clothes,\nall appertains to her.... Mongol women are perfect mistresses of the\nneedle; it is quite unintelligible how, with implements so rude, they\ncan manufacture articles so durable; they excel, too, in embroidery,\nwhich for taste and variety of design and excellence of manipulation\nexcited our astonishment. The occupations of the men are of very\nlimited range; they consist wholly in conducting flocks and herds\nto pasture. This to men accustomed from infancy to the saddle is a\nmere amusement. The nearest approach to fatigue they ever incur is\nin pursuing cattle which escape. They sometimes hunt; when they go\nafter roebucks, deer, or pheasants, as presents for their chiefs,\nthey take their bow and matchlock. Foxes they always course. They\nsquat all day in their tents, drinking tea and smoking. When the\nfancy takes them they take down their whip, mount their horse, always\nready saddled at the door, and dash off across the broad plains, no\nmatter whither. When one sees another horseman he rides up to him;\nwhen he sees a tent he puts up at it, the only object being to have\na gossip with a new person.\"\n\n\n\nTALE V.\n\n1. Kun-Snang = \"All-enlightening.\" (J\u00fclg.) The Mongolian tale-repeater\nhere gives the Khan a Tibetian name (Tibetian being the learned and\nliturgical language of Mongolia), making one of the instances of which\nthe tales are full, of their transformation in process of transmission.\n\n2. Sesame-oil is mentioned by Pliny in many places as in use in India\nfor medicinal purposes: as, xiii. 2, 7: xv. 9, 4: xvii. 10, 1, &c.\n\n3. Baling-cakes.--See note 6, and note 9 to Tale IV.\n\n4. The Brahmanical system of re-births was followed to a great extent\nby Buddhists, notwithstanding that it had been one chief aim and object\nof Sh\u00e2kjamuni's teaching to provide mankind with a remedy against\ntheir necessity. (See Lassen, Indische Alterthumskunde, ii. 60, and\nother places. Burnouf, Introd. \u00e0 l'Hist. du Buddh. Ind. i. 153.) By\nits teaching, every living being had to be born again a countless\nnumber of times, leading them to higher or lower regions according\nto their dealings under each earlier form. The gods themselves were\nnot exempt from the operation of this law.\n\n5. Serpent-god. See note 1 to Tale II., and note 4 to Tale XXII.\n\n6. Tiger-year. The Mongols reckon time by a cycle of sixty years,\ndesignated by a subdivision under the names of five necessary articles,\nand twelve beasts with the further adjuncts of male and female. The\npresent cycle began in 1864 and will consequently go on till 1923.\n\nThe following may serve as a specimen:--\n\n\n    1864, male Wood-mouse-year, Mato khouloukhana po.\n    1865, female Wood-bullock-year, Moto oukhere mo.\n    1866, male Fire-tiger-year, Gal bara po.\n    1867, female Fire-hare-year, Gal tole mo.\n    1868, male Earth-dragon-year, Sheree lou po.\n    1869, female Earth-serpent-year, Sheree Mokhee mo.\n    1870, male Iron-horse-year, Temur mori po.\n    1871, female Iron-sheep-year, Temur knoui mo.\n    1872, male Water-ape-year, Oussou betchi po.\n    1873, female Water-fowl-year, Oussou takia mo.\n    1874, male Wood-dog-year, Moto nokhee po.\n    1875, female Wood-pig-year, Moto khakhee mo.\n    1876, male Fire-mouse-year, Gal khouloukhana po.\n    1877, female Fire-bullock-year, Gal oukhere mo.\n    1878, male Earth-tiger-year, Sheree bara po.\n    1879, female Earth-hare-year, Sheree tolee mo.\n    1880, male Iron-dragon-year, Temur lou po.\n    1881, female Iron-serpent-year, Temur mokhee mo.\n\n\nAnd so on to the end. The date always being quoted in connexion\nwith the year of each sovereign reigning at the time, to make the\ndistinction more definite.\n\n7. Nothing can be much more revolting to our minds than the idea of\nhuman sacrifices. Nevertheless, one of the grandest episodes of the\ngreat epic poem called the Ramajana, is that in which King Ashokja\ngoes all the world over in search of a youth possessing all the\nmarks which prove him worthy to be sacrificed: \"wandering through\ntracts of country and villages, through town and wilderness alike,\nholy hermitages also of high fame.\" When at last he has found one in\nthe person of Sunasepha, son of Ritschika, a great prince of seers,\nVisvamitra, the great model penitent, calls on his own son to take\nhis place, crying up the honour of the thing in the most ardent\nlanguage. \"When a father desires to have sons,\" he says to him, \"it\nis in order that they may adorn the world with their virtue and be\nworthy of eternal fame. The opportunity for earning that fame has now\ncome to thee.\" And when his son refuses the exchange, he pronounces\non him the following curse, \"Henceforth shalt thou be for many years\na wanderer and outcast, and despised like to a dealer in dog's flesh.\"\n\nConcerning the serpent-cultus in general, see note 1, Tale II.,\nand note 4, Tale XXII.\n\n8. Rice is the most ancient and most widespread object of Indian\nagriculture; it is only not cultivated in those districts where\neither the heat or the means of natural or artificial irrigation\ndo not suffice for its production; and in easternmost islands of\nthe Archipelago, where the sago-palm replaces it. (Ritter iv. 1,\n800.) The name, coming from vrih, to grow, to spread (whence also\nvrihat, great), suggests, that it was regarded as the principal kind\nof corn. All the Greek writers on India mention that an intoxicating\ndrink was made from rice, and the custom still prevails.\n\n\n\nTALE VI.\n\n1. Brschiss. I know not what country it is which is thus designated,\nunless the word be derived from brizi, the ancient Persian for rice,\nand is intended to denote a rice-producing territory.\n\n2. Palm-tree. India grows a vast number of varieties of the palm-tree;\nthe general name is trinadruma, \"grass-tree\" (Ritter iv. 1,\n827). The date-palm was only introduced by the Arabians (Lassen,\niii. 312). The fan-palm (borassus flabelliformis) is called trinar\u00e2ga =\n\"the grass-king,\" in Sanskrit also t\u00e2la; the Buddhist priests in Dekhan\nand also in China and Mongolia use its leaves as fans and sunshades,\nand hence are often called t\u00e2lapatri, palm-bearers. T\u00e2l\u00e2nka and\nT\u00e2ladhvaga are also titles of Krishna, when he carries a banner bearing\na palm-tree in memory of a legend which makes him the discoverer of\nthe means of utilizing the fruit of the cocoa-nut palm. \"The mountain\nG\u00f4vardhana on the banks of the Jamun\u00e2 was thickly grown over with the\ncocoa-nut palm, but it was kept in guard by a d\u00e6mon, named Dh\u00eanuka,\nin the form of an ass, at the head of a great herd of asses, so that\nno one could approach it. Krishna, however, in company with Rama,\nwent through the wood unarmed, but when they would have shaken down\nthe fruit from the trees, Dh\u00eanuka, who was sitting in its branches,\nkicked them with his hoofs and bit them. Krishna pulled him down from\noff the tree, and wrestled with him till he had crushed him to death;\nin the same way he dealt with the whole herd. A lurid light gleamed\nthrough the whole wood from the bodies of the dead asses, but from\nthat time forward, all the people had free use of the trees.\" (Hari,\nv. 70, v. 3702 et seq. p. 577.)\n\n3. The brandy spoken of is, probably, koumis, distilled from mare's\nmilk, and makes a very intoxicating drink. Concerning its preparation,\nsee Pallas, Sammlung historischer Nachrichten \u00fcber die Mongolen.\n\n\n\nTALE VII.\n\n1. Compare note 10, Tale IV.\n\n2. Legends of transformed maidens being delivered from the power of\nenchantment and married by heroes and knights are common enough, but\nwe less frequently meet with stories presenting a reversed plot. I\nhave met with one, however, nearly identical with that given in the\ntext, attached to a ruined castle of W\u00e2lsch-Tirol.\n\n3. The Buddhist idea of the soul is very difficult to define. In other\nlegends given later in the present volume (e. g. the episode of the\nburying of Vikram\u00e2ditja's body and the action of the fourth youth in\n\"Who invented Women?\") we find it, just as in the present one, spoken\nof as a quite superfluous and fantastic adjunct without which a man\nwas to all intents and purposes the same as when he had it. Spence\nHardy affirms as the result of conversations with Buddhists during\nhalf a life passed among them in Ceylon, as well as from the study\nof their writings, that \"according to Buddhism there is no soul.\"\n\n4. Compare note 7 to \"Vikram\u00e2ditja's Birth.\"\n\n5. Ob\u00f6. \"A heap of stones on which every traveller is expected of\nhis piety to throw one or more as he goes by.\" (J\u00fclg.) Abb\u00e9 Huc\ndescribes them thus: \"They consist simply of an enormous pile of\nstones heaped up without any order, surmounted with dried branches\nof trees, while from them hang other branches and strips of cloth on\nwhich are inscribed verses in the Tibet and Mongol languages. At its\nbase is a large granite urn in which the devotees burn incense. They\noffer besides pieces of money which the next Chinese traveller, after\nsundry ceremonious genuflexions before the Ob\u00f6, carefully collects\nand pockets. These Ob\u00f6s are very numerous.\"\n\n6. The sacred mountain of Meer\u00fb. See note 4, Tale III.\n\n\n\nTALE VIII.\n\n1. Kun-smon, all-wishing (Tibetian).               }\n                                                   }\n2. Kun-snang, all-enlightening (Tibetian).         }\n                                                   }\n3. Chamuk-Ssakiktschi, all-protecting (Mongolian). } (J\u00fclg.)\n                                                   }\n4. Ananda, gladness (Sanskrit).                    }\n                                                   }\n5. Kun-dgah, all-rejoicing (Tibetian).             }\n\n6. Chotolo has the same meaning as Chamuk, the one in Kalmuck and\nthe other in Tibetian.\n\n7. See note 4 to Tale V., and note 7 to \"Vikram\u00e2ditja's Birth.\"\n\n8. Kun-tschong = all-protecting (Tibetian). (J\u00fclg.)\n\n\n\nTALE IX.\n\n1. Heaven-gods, sky-gods, devas. They hold a transition position\nbetween men and gods, between human and Buddha nature. Their etherial\nbody enables these lowest of gods, or genii, to withstand the effects\nof age better than mortals; also they can assume other forms and make\nthemselves invisible, powers seldom allotted to mortals, but they\nare subject to illusion, sin, and metempsychosis like every other\ncreature. (Schott, Buddhaismus in Hoch-Asien, p. 5, quoted by J\u00fclg.)\n\n2. Garud\u00e2.--Garut'man (whence Garud\u00e2), means the winged one. In the\nepic mythology of India Garud\u00e2 was son of Kashjapa and Vinat\u00e2, daughter\nof Daxa, king of the Suparn'a (\"beautiful winged ones\"), divine birds,\nwhose habitation was in the lower heavens. They were the standing foes\nof the serpent-gods, on whose flesh they fed. In the V\u00eada it is spoken\nof as a bird with beautiful golden wings. A Gaudharba of high degree,\nbearing shining weapons, was placed over the higher heaven. It is said\nthat inhaling the balmy vapours, he gave birth to the refreshing rain;\nand that when gazing through space with his eagle eye he broods over\nthe ocean, the rays of the sun pierce through the third heaven. From\nthis it may be gathered that the Garud\u00e2 originally represented the\nmorning mist preceding the sunrise over land and sea. The Garud\u00e2,\nwas also the bearer of Vishnu, as the following legend from the M\u00e2ha\nBh\u00e2rata tells:--\"M\u00e2tali, Indra's charioteer, had fixed his eyes on\nSumuka, grandson of the serpent-god Arjaka, to make him his son-in-law\nby marrying his daughter, Gun'aka'shi, to him. Garud\u00e2, however, had\nalready devoted him for his food, purposing to kill him in a month's\ntime; but at M\u00e2tali's request Indra had given promise of long life\nto Sumukha. When Garud\u00e2 heard this he went and stood before Indra and\ntold him that by such a promise he had destroyed himself and his race;\nthat he Garud\u00e2, alone possessed the strength to bear him up through\nall worlds, even as he bore up Vishnu, and that by his means he might\nbecome lord of all and as great as Vishnu. But Vishnu made him feel the\nweight of (only) his left arm, and straightway he fell down senseless\nbefore him. After this he acknowledged that he was only the servant\nof Vishnu, and promised not to talk rebellious words any more.\"\n\nThe descriptions of him do not give him entirely the form of a\nbird, but rather of some combination with the human form; in what\nhe resembles a bird he seems to partake of the eagle, the vulture,\nand the crane. (Schlegel, Ind. Bibl. i. 81.)\n\n\n\nTALE X.\n\n1. That the Indians were apt to yield to the temptation of drink\nis asserted by the Greek writers on India, who also mention that,\nin spite of the prohibition of their religion, wine was an article\nof their import trade. See Lassen, ii. 606; iii. 50, and 345, 346.\n\n2. That the wife should give herself to be burned with the body of\nher husband was a very ancient custom, as it is alluded to as such\nby the Greek writers on India. Nevertheless it was far from universal.\n\n3. Comp. M\u00e2nu, dh. sh. viii. 29, concerning the punishment of the\nfalse witness.\n\n4. Shaving off the hair was reckoned the most degrading of\npunishments. (Lassen, vi. 344.)\n\n\n\nTALE XI.\n\n1. Chongschim B\u00f4dhisattva. Chongschim is probably derived from the\nChinese, Kuan-schi-in, also by the Mongols, called Chutuku niduber usek\ntschi (He looking with the sacred eye), the present representative\nof Sh\u00e2kjamuni, the spiritual guardian and patron of the breathing\nworld in general; but, as Lamaism teaches, the Particular Protector\nof the northern countries of Asia; and each succeeding Dalai Lama is\nan incarnation of him. (Schott, Buddhaismus, and K\u00f6ppen, Die Religion\ndes Buddha, i. 312; ii. 127.) B\u00f4dhisattva, from B\u00f4dhi, the highest\nwisdom or knowledge, and Sattva, being. It is the last but one in the\nlong chain of re-births. (See Schott, Buddhaismus, quoted by J\u00fclg.;\nalso K\u00f6ppen, i. 312 et seq., 422-426, and ii. 18 et seq.; Wassiljew,\np. 6, 106, 134.)\n\nIt designates a man who has reached the intelligence of a Buddha\nand destined to be re-born as such when the actual Buddha dies. This\nintermediate time some have to pass in the Tushita-heaven, and none\nof those thus dignified can appear on earth so long as his predecessor\nlives. (Burnouf, Introduction \u00e0 l'Histoire du Buddhisme Ind. i. 109.)\n\n2. Suvarnadhar\u00ee (Sanskr.), possessed of gold. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n3. Chutuktu, holy, consecrated, reverend, honourable--the Mongolian\ndesignation of the priesthood in general. (Schott, Buddhaismus, p. 36.)\n\n4. It requires nothing less than the creative power of an Eastern\nimagination first to see a difficulty in a situation simple enough in\nitself, and then set to work to remove it by means of a proceeding\ncalculated to create the most actual difficulties: it is a leading\ncharacteristic of Indian tales. It would seem much more rational to\nhave made the poor man keep up the original story of Buddha having\ndesignated him for the girl's husband, which the people at the mouth\nof the stream would have been as prone to believe as those at its\nsource, than to resort to the preposterous expedient of leaving her\nburied in a box.\n\n\n\nTALE XII.\n\n1. K\u00fcw\u00f6n-oj\u00f4tu, of child intellect. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n2. Sandal-wood is a principal production of India. The finest grows\non the Malabar coast. Among its many names goshirsha is the only one\nin use in the Buddhistic writings, being derived from a cow's head,\nthe smell of which its scent was supposed to resemble. (Burnouf,\nIntrod. \u00e0 l'Hist. du Buddhisme i. 619.) Kandana is the vulgar name. It\nwas also called valguka = beautiful, and bhadrashri = surpassingly\nbeautiful. Its use, both as incense in the temples and for scent in\nprivate houses, particularly by spreading a fine powdering of it on\ndamp mats before the windows, is very ancient and widespread.\n\n3. Geg\u00ean uch\u00e2tu, of bright intellect. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n4. Cap woven of grass. Probably the Urtica (Boehmeria) utilis,\nwhich is used for weaving and imported into Europe under the name of\nChina-grass. See Revue Horticole, vol. iv. ann. 1855.\n\n\n\nTALE XIII.\n\n1. Shrikantha, \"one whose cup contains good fortune\" = born with a\nsilver spoon in his mouth.\n\n2. The merchant class acquired an important position in India at\nan early date, as the Manu concerns itself with laws for their\nguidance. The Manu, however, distinctly defines trading as the\noccupation of the third caste (i. 90), \"The care of cattle, sacrifice,\nreading the V\u00eada, the career of a merchant, the lending of gold and\nsilver, and the pursuit of agriculture shall be the occupation of\nthe Vaishja.\" Similarly in the Jalim\u00e2l\u00e2 legend given in Colebrooke's\n\"Miscellaneous Essays,\" it is said \"The Lord of Creation viewing them\n(the various castes) said, 'What shall be your occupation?' These\nreplied, 'We are not our own masters, O God. Command what we shall\nundertake.' Viewing and comparing their labours he made the first\ntribe superior over the rest. As the first had great inclination\nfor the divine sciences (brahmaveda) it was called Brahmana. The\nprotector from ill was Kshatriga (warrior). Him whose profession (vesa)\nconsists in commerce, and in husbandry, and attendance on cattle he\ncalled Vaisga. The other should voluntarily serve the three tribes,\nand therefore he became Sudra.\" That a Brahman's son, therefore,\nshould condescend to engage in trade must be ascribed either to the\ndegeneracy of later times or to the ignorance of or indifference to\nBrahmanical peculiarities of the Buddhist tale-repeater; or else his\nparents were of mixed castes.\n\nIn legendary tales Banig is a typical merchant, and the name\nultimately came to designate the subdivision of the Vaishja caste,\nin which trading had become hereditary. The word is derived from\npani, which means both to buy and to play games of hazard, and ga,\nborn or descended; hence Banig meant, literally, merchant's son. This\ndesignation later became corrupted into Banyan.\n\nIt is not possible to learn very much about the merchant's early\nstatus, as the subject of trade would naturally seem unworthy\nof frequent mention in the great epic poems; nevertheless the\nRamajana (ii. 83, v. 11) speaks of \"the honourable merchants\"\n(naigam\u00e2h). Mercantile expeditions, especially by sea, however, partook\nof the heroic, and as such find a place even in the M\u00e2ha Bh\u00e2rata;\nand there is a hymn in the V\u00eada (Rig. V. i. 116, 5) praising Asvin\nfor protecting Bhugju's hundred-oared ship through the immeasurable,\nfathomless ocean, and bringing it back safely to land.\n\n3. Apes enter frequently not only into the fables but into the\nepic poetry of India. The Ramajana, narrating the spreading of the\nAryan Indians over the south and far-east, speaks of the country as\ninhabited by apes, and of Rama taking apes for his allies; also,\non one occasion, of his re-establishing an ape-king in possession\nof his previous dominions. Consult Lassen, Indische Alterthumskunde,\ni. 534, 535. Megasthenes mentions various kinds of apes and monkeys,\nwith, however, scarcely recognizable descriptions, in his enumeration\nof the wild animals of India (Fragm. x. p. 410). Kleitarchos tells\nthat when Alexander had reached a hill in the neighbourhood of the\nHydaspes, he came upon a tribe of apes arranged in battle array,\nlooking so formidable that he was about to give the signal for\nattacking them, but was withheld by the representations of Taxiles,\nking of the neighbouring country of Taxila, who accompanied him\n(Fragm. xvi. p. 80). The Pantcha-Tantra contains a fable in which\nthe King of Kamanapura establishes an ape for his bodyguard as more\nfaithful and efficient than man; a thief, however, brings a serpent\ninto the apartment, and at sight of the mortal enemy of his kind,\nthe ape runs away. Another fable of the same collection tells of\na Brahman who, having succeeded in rearing a flourishing garden of\nmelons, found them all devoured as soon as ripe by a party of apes,\nnor was he able by any means to get rid of them. One day he laid\nhimself down hid amid the leafage as if he had been dead, but with a\nstick in his hand ready to attack them when they approached. At first\nthey indeed took him for dead and were venturing close up to him, when\none of them espied the stick and cried to the others, \"Dead men do not\ncarry arms,\" and with that they all escaped; and it was the same with\nevery trap he laid for them, by their wariness they evaded them all.\n\n4. The Indian world of story abounds in tales in which the low notion\nof expecting some advantage to accrue in this life is proposed as\nthe object and reward of good actions. Instances will doubtless\noccur to the reader. The Pantcha-Tantra Collection contains one in\nwhich an elephant is caught by a Khan out hunting, by being driven\ninto a deep dyke. He asks advice of a Brahman who passes that way,\nas to how he is to extricate himself. \"Now is the time,\" answers the\nBrahman, \"to recall if you have ever done good to any one, and if so\nto call him to your aid.\" The elephant thereupon recalls that he once\ndelivered a number of rats whom a Khan had hunted and caught and shut\nup in earthen jars by lifting the earthen jars with his trunk and\ngently breaking them. He accordingly invokes the aid of these rats,\nwho come and gnaw away at the earth surrounding the dyke, till they\nhave made so easy a slope of it that the elephant can walk out.\n\nChristianity fortunately proposes a higher motive for our good actions,\nand the experience of life would make that derived from results to\nbe expected from gratitude a very poor one.\n\n5. A story, with a precisely similar episode of the recovery of a\njewel by ancillary beasts, comes into the legend of another ruin of\nthe Italian Tirol.\n\n6. See note 4 to \"Vikram\u00e2ditja's Throne discovered.\"\n\n\n\nTALE XIV.\n\n1. I know not whether this placing together of lions and tigers is to\nbe ascribed to unacquaintance with their habits, or to idealism. Though\nboth natives of parts of India they have not even the same districts\nassigned them by nature. So inimical are they also to each other,\nand so unlikely to herd together, that it has been supposed the tiger\nhas exterminated the lion wherever they have met. (Ritter, Asien,\nvol. iv. zweite H\u00e4lfte, 689, 703, 723.) Indian fable established the\nlion as the king of beasts--Mrigar\u00e2ga. Amara, the Indian Lexicographer,\nplaces him at the head of all beasts. The ordinary Sanskrit name is\nSinha, which some translate \"the killer,\" from sibh, to kill. The\nsame word (sinhan\u00e2da) stands for the roaring of the lion and for\na war cry. Sinh\u00e2sana, literally a lion-seat, stands for a throne;\nfor the lion was the typical ruler. The fables always make him out as\npowerful, just, temperate, and willing to take the advice of others,\nbut often deceived by his counsellors. The lion also gave its name\nto the island of Ceylon, which to the Greeks was known as Taprobane,\nfrom T\u00e2mbapanni or T\u00e2mrapani, the capital built by Vigaja, its first\nhistorical settler (said by the natives to come from t\u00e2mra, red, and\np\u00e2ni, hand, because he and his companions being worn out with fatigue\non their arrival lay down upon the ground and found it made their\nhands red; but tamra (neut.) means also red sandalwood, and parna\nis a leaf, which makes a more probable interpretation, but there is\nalso another deriving from \"a red swamp\"). But this name passed quite\nout of use both among native and Greek writers in the early part of\nthe first century. Ptolemy calls it Salik`h, the Indian word being\nSinhala, the Pali, S\u00eehala = \"resting-place of the lion\" (i.e. the\ncourageous warriors, the companions of Vigaja). Kosmas has S'ieled'iba\n= Sinhaladvipa, \"the island Sinhala.\" In the writings of the Chinese\npilgrims it is called Sengkiolo, which they render \"lion's kingdom.\" In\nthe southern dialects of India l is often changed into r, and thus\nin Marcellinus Ammianus we find the name has become Serendivus. Out\nof this came zeilau and our Ceylon. In our word \"Singhalese\" we have\na plainer trace of the lion's share in the appellation.\n\nThe writers of the time of Alexander do not appear to have come across\nany authentic account of the tiger, and his people seem to have known\nit only from its skin bought as merchandize. Nearchos and Megasthenes\nboth quite overstate its size, as \"twice as big as a lion,\" and \"as big\nas a horse.\" Augustus exhibited a tiger in Rome in the year 11 B.C.,\nand that seems the first seen there. Claudius imported four. Pliny\nremarks on the extreme swiftness and wariness of the tiger and the\ndifficulty of capturing him. His place in the fable world is generally\nas representative of unmitigated cruelty. The Pantcha-Tantra contains\na tale, however, in which a Brahman, wearied of his existence by many\nreverses, goes to a tiger who has a reputation for great ferocity\nand begs him to rid him of his life. The tiger in this instance is\nso moved by the recital of the man's afflictions that he not only\nspares his life, but nurtures him in his den, enriching him also with\nthe jewelled spoil of the many travellers who fall victims to his\nvoracity. In the end, however, the inevitable fox comes in as a bad\ncounsellor, and persuades him the Brahman is intending to poison him,\nand thus overcoming his leniency, induces him to break faith with\nthe Brahman and devour him.\n\n2. Dakinis were female evil genii, who committed all sorts of horrible\npranks, chiefly among the graves and at night. In this place it is\nmore probably Raginis that are intended, beautiful beings who filled\nthe air with melody. (Schmidt, trans, of sSanang sSetsen, p. 438,\nquoted by J\u00fclg.)\n\n3. N\u00fbpuras, gold rings set with jewels, worn by women of rank, and\nalso by dancing girls.\n\n4. The custom of wearing quantities of jewelled ornaments seems to\nhave passed into Rome, along with the jewels themselves, and to such\nan extent that Pliny tells us (book ix.), that Roman women would\nhave their feet covered with pearls, and a woman of rank would not\ngo out without having so many pearls dangling from her feet as to\nmake a noise as she walked along. The long-shaped pearls of India,\ntoo, were specially prized for ear-rings; he particularly mentions\ntheir being made to bear the form of an alabaster vase, just as\nlately revived in Rome. They particularly delighted in the noise\nof two or more of these pendants together as a token of wealth, and\ngave it the name of crotalia, which, however, they borrowed from the\nGreeks. They also wore them pendant from their rings. The Singhalese\npearls are the most esteemed. The dangerous fishery of these forms\nthe occupation of a special division of the Parawa or Fisher-Caste of\nthe Southern Indians. The pearl-oysters were said to swim in swarms,\nled by a king-oyster, distinguished by his superiority in size and\ncolouring. Fishers aimed at capturing the \"king,\" as then the whole\nswarm was dispersed and easily caught; as long as the king was free,\nhe knew how to guide the major part of his swarm of subjects out of\ndanger (Pliny, ix. 55, 1). They thought the pearl was more directly\nunder the influence of the heavens than of the sea, so that if it was\ncloudy at the time of their birth, they grew dull and tinted; but if\nborn under a bright sky, then they were lustrous and well-tinted;\nif it thundered at the time, they were startled and grew small and\nstunted. Concerning the actualities of pearl-fishery, see Colebrook's\n\"Account\" of the same in Trans. of R. As. Soc. ii. 452, et seq.\n\nMegasthenes, Diodorus, Arrianus, and others (quoted by Lassen, 1,\n649, n. 2), tell a curious legend by which Hercules as he parted\nfrom earth gave to his young daughter Pandaia the whole of Southern\nIndia for her portion, and that from her sprang the celebrated hero\ndynasty of the P\u00e2ndava; Hercules found a beautiful female ornament\ncalled pearls on his travels, and he collected them all and endowed\nhis daughter's kingdom with them.\n\n5. It is impossible not to be struck by the similarity of construction\nbetween this tale and that of the Spanish colonial one I have given in\n\"Patra\u00f1as\" with the title of \"Matanzas,\" thus bringing the sagas of\nthe East and West Indies curiously together.\n\n6. Lama, Buddhist priest: the tale-repeater again grafts a word of\nhis own language on to the Indian tale.\n\n7. T\u00eertha, from tri, to cross a river. It denoted originally a\nford; then, a bathing-place on the borders of sacred streams;\nlater its use became extended to all manner of pilgrimage-places,\nbut more frequently those situated at the water's edge. They were\nthe hermitages of Brahmans who gave themselves to the contemplative\nlife before the rise of Buddhism, while to many of them also were\nattached legends of having been the dwellings of the mysterious\nRishi, similarly before the rise of Brahmanism. The fruits of the\nearth and beasts brought to them as offerings at these holy places,\nas also the mere visiting such spots, was taught to be among the\nmost meritorious of acts. \"From the poor can the sacrifice, O king,\nnot be offered, for it needs to have great possessions, and to make\ngreat preparations. By kings and rich men can it be offered. But not\nby the mean and needy and possessing nothing. But hear, and I will\ntell thee what is the pious dealing which is equal in its fruits to\nthe holy sacrifice, and can be carried out even by the poorest. This\nis the deepest secret of the Rishi. Visits paid to the t\u00eertha are more\nmeritorious than even offerings\" (made elsewhere). \"He who has never\nfasted for three nights, has never visited a t\u00eertha, and never made\nofferings of gold and cows, he will live in poor estate\" (at his next\nre-birth). \"But so great advantage is not gained by the Agnishtoma or\nother most costly sacrifice as by visiting t\u00eerthas.\" (Tirthag\u00e2tr\u00e2,\niii. 82, v. 4055 et seq.) In other places it is prescribed that\nvisits paid to some one particular t\u00eertha are equal to an offering\nof one hundred cows; to another, a thousand. To visiting another,\nis attached the reward of being beautiful at the next rebirth; a\nvisit to another, cleansed from the stain of murder, even the murder\nof a Brahman; that to the source of the Ganges, brings good luck to\na whole generation. Whoso passes a month at that on the Kanshiki,\nwhere Vishvamitra attained the highest perfection, does equivalent\nto the offering of a horse-offering and obtains the same advantage\n(phala = fruit). Several spots on the Indus or Sindhu, reckon among\nthe holiest of t\u00eerthas pointing to the course of the immigration\nof the Aryan race into India. Uggana on its west bank is named as\nthe dwelling-place of the earliest Rishis and the scene of acts of\nthe gods. A visit to Gandharba at its source, or Sindh\u00fbttama the\nnorthern-most t\u00eertha on its banks, was equivalent to a horse-offering.\n\nThe Puranas are full of stories and legends concerning t\u00eerthas\nnoteworthy for the deeds of ancient kings and gods. They tell us\nof one on the Jumna, where Brahma himself offered sacrifice. At the\nV\u00e2r\u00e2ha-t\u00eertha Vishnu had once appeared in the form of a wild boar. The\nMah\u00e2 Bh\u00e2rata and other epic poems speak of these visits being made by\nprinces as a matter of constant occurrence, as well as of numbers of\nBrahmans making the occasion of their visits answer the purpose of an\narmed escort, to pay their devotions at the same time without incurring\nunnecessary danger by the way. The Manu also contains prescriptions\nconcerning these visits. In consequence of the amount of travelling\nthey entailed the t\u00eerth\u00e2nusartri or t\u00eertha-visitor was quoted as a\ngeographical authority.\n\nThe Horse-sacrifice mentioned above was part of the early Vedic\nreligion. In the songs of Dirghatamas, Rig-Veda i. 22, 6 and 7, it\nis described with great particularity. And instances are mentioned\nof horse-sacrifices being performed, in the Ramajana, i. 13, 34,\nand Mah\u00e2 Bh\u00e2rata, xiv. 89 v. 2644. There is also a medal existing\nstruck by a king of the Gupta dynasty, in the 3rd century of our era,\ncommemorative of one at that date. There do not appear altogether to\nbe many instances named however. The Zendavesta (quoted by Burnouf,\nYacna, i. p. 444) mentions that it was common among the Turanian\npeople, on the other hand, to sacrifices horses to propitiate victory.\n\n\n\nTALE XV.\n\n1. \"Diamond kingdom.\" It is probably Magadha (now Behar) that is\nhere thus designated (J\u00fclg.); though it might stand for any part of\nCentral India: \"Diamonds were only found in India of all the kingdoms\nof antiquity\" (Lassen, iii. 18), and (Lassen i. 240), \"in India between\n14\u00b0 and 25\u00b0;\" a wide range, but the fields are limited in extent and\nsparsely scattered. The old world only knew the diamond through the\nmedium of India. In India itself they were the choicest ornaments of\nthe kings and of the statues of the gods. They thus became stored up\nin great masses in royal and ecclesiastical treasuries; and became\nthe highest standard of value. The vast quantities of diamonds made\nbooty of during the Muhammedan invasion borders on the incredible. It\nwas thus that they first found their way in any quantity to the West\nof Europe. Since the discovery of the diamond-fields of Brazil,\nthey have been little sought for in India. In Sanskrit, they were\ncalled vag'ra, \"lightning;\" also abh\u00eadja, \"infrangible.\" It would\nappear, however, that the Muhammedans were not the first to despoil\nthe Eastern treasuries, for Pliny (book ix.) tells us that Lollia,\nwife of Claudius, was wont to show herself, on all public occasions,\nliterally covered from head to foot with jewels, which her father,\nMarcus Lollius, had taken from the kings of the East, and which were\nvalued at forty million sesterces. He adds, however, this noteworthy\ninstance of retribution of rapacity, that he ended by taking his own\nlife to appease the Emperor's animosity, which he had thereby incurred.\n\nHiuen Thsang, the Chinese pilgrim who visited India about A.D. 640,\nparticularly mentions that in Mal\u00e1va and Magadha were chief seats of\nlearned studies.\n\n2. Abaraschika; magic word of no meaning. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n3. Astrologers. Colebrooke (\"Miscellaneous Essays,\" ii. 440) is of\nopinion that astrology was a late introduction into India. Divination\nby the relative position of the planets seems to have been in part at\nleast of foreign growth and comparatively recent introduction among the\nHindus; (he explains this to refer to the Alexandrian Greeks). \"The\nbelief in the influence of the planets and stars upon human affairs\nis with them indeed remotely ancient, and was a natural consequence of\ntheir early creed making the sun and planets gods. But the notion that\nthe tendency of that supposed influence and the manner in which it is\nto be exerted, may be foreseen by man, and the effect to be produced\nby it foretold through a knowledge of the position of the planets at a\ngiven moment, is no necessary result of that belief; for it takes from\nbeings believed divine their free agency.\" See also Weber, \"Geschichte\nder Indischen Astrologie,\" in his Indische Studien, ii. 236 et seq.\n\n\n\nTALE XVI.\n\n1. Tabun Minggan = \"containing five thousand.\" (J\u00fclg.) The\ntale-repeater again gives a name of his own language to a town which\nhe places in India.\n\n2. Cows and oxen were always held in high estimation by the ancient\nIndians. The same word that stood for \"cow\" expressed also \"the earth,\"\nand both stand equally in the V\u00eada for symbols of fruitfulness and\npatient labouring for the benefit of others. The ox stands in the Manu\nfor \"uprightness\" and \"obedience to the laws.\" In the Ramajana (ii. 74,\n12) Surabhi, the cow-divinity (see the curious accounts of her origin\nin Lassen, i. 792 and note), is represented as lamenting that over\nthe whole world her children are made to labour from morning to night\nat the plough under the burning sun. Cows were frequently devoted to\nthe gods and left to go whithersoever they would, even in the midst of\ntowns, their lives being held sacred (Lassen, i. 298). K\u00fchn (Jahrbuch\nf. w. K. 1844, p. 102) quotes two or three instances of sacrifices of\ncows but they were very rare; either as sacrifices to the gods or as\nrigagna (\"sacrifices to the living\") i. e. the offerings of hospitality\nto the living. The ox was reckoned peculiarly sacred to Shiva, and\nimages were set up to him in the temples (see Lassen, i. 299). Butter\nwas the most frequent object of sacrifice (ib. 298). The Manu (iii. 70)\norders the H\u00f4ma or butter-sacrifice to be offered daily to the gods,\nand the custom still subsists (see Lassen, iii. 325). Other names\nfor the cow were Gharmadhug = \"giver of warm milk;\" and Aghnj\u00e2 =\n\"the not to be slain;\" also K\u00e2madh\u00eanu or K\u00e2maduh = \"the fulfiller of\nwishes,\" and (in the Mah\u00e2 Bh\u00e2rata) Nandun\u00ee = \"the making to rejoice\"\n(Lassen, i. 721). See also the story of Sabala, the heavenly cow\nof the Ramajana, in note 8 to \"Vikram\u00e2ditja's Youth.\" Oxen were\nnot only used for ploughing, but also for charioteering and riding,\nand were trained to great swiftness. \u00c6lianus (De Nat Anim. xv. 24)\nmentions that kings and great men did not think it beneath them to\nstrive together in the oxen-races, and that the oxen were better\nracers than the horses, for the latter needed the spur while the\nformer did not. An ox and a horse, and two oxen with a horse between\nthem were often harnessed together in a chariot. He also mentions\nthat there was a great deal of betting both by those whose animals\nwere engaged in the race and by the spectators. The Manu, however\n(d. p. c. ix. 221--225), forbids every kind of betting under severe\npenalties. \u00c6lianus mentions further the K\u00e2mara, the long-haired ox\nor yak, which the Indians received from Tibet.\n\n3. The \"Three Precious Treasures\" or \"jewels\" of Buddhism are\nAdi-buddha, Dharma, and Sangha, which in later Buddhism became a sort\nof triad, called triratna, of supreme divinities; but, at the first,\nwere only honoured according to the actual meaning of the words\n(Schmidt, Grundlehre der Buddhaismus, in Mem. de l'Ac. des Sciences\nde S. Petersbourg, i. 114), viz. Sangha, sacred assembly or synod;\nDharma, laws (or more correctly perhaps, necessity, fate, Lassen,\niii. 397), and Buddha, the expounder of the same. (Burnouf, Introd. \u00e0\nl'Hist. du Budd. i. 221.)\n\nConsult Schott, Buddhaismus, pp. 39, 127, and C. F. K\u00f6ppen, Die\nReligion des Buddha, i. 373, 550-553, and ii. 292-294.\n\n4. See note 2, Tale IV.\n\n5. Abb\u00e9 Huc describes the huts of the Tibetian herdsmen as thus\nconstructed with a hole in the roof for the smoke. The Mongolians\nlive entirely in tents which, if more primitive, seem cleaner and\naltogether preferable.\n\n\n\nTALE XVII.\n\n1. Probably it was some version of this story that had travelled\nto Spain, which suggested to Yriarte the following one of his many\nfables directed against ignorant writers and bad critics.\n\n\n            1.                          1.\n\n    Esta fabulilla,             This fablette I know it\n    Salga bien \u00f3 mal,             Is not erudite;\n    Me he occorrida ahora       It occurr'd to my mind now\n    Por casualidad.               By accident quite.\n\n            2.                          2.\n\n    Cerca de unos prados        Through a meadow whose verdure\n    Que hay en mi lugar,          Fresh, seem'd to invite,\n    Passaba un borrico          A donkey pass'd browsing\n    Por casualidad.               By accident quite.\n\n            3.                          3.\n\n    Una flauta en ellos         A flute lay in the grass, which\n    Hall\u00f3 que un zagal,           A swain over night\n    Se dex\u00f3 olvidado            Had left there forgotten\n    Por casualidad.               By accident quite.\n\n            4.                          4.\n\n    Acerc\u00f3se \u00e1 olerla,          Approaching to smell it\n    El dicho animal               This quadruped wight\n    Y di\u00f3 un resoplido          Just happen'd to bray then\n    Por casualidad.               By accident quite.\n\n            5.                          5.\n\n    En la flauta el ayre        The air ent'ring the mouthpiece\n    Se hubo de colar              Pass'd through as of right,\n    Y son\u00f3 la flauta            And gave forth a cadence\n    Por casualidad.               By accident quite.\n\n            6.                          6.\n\n    \"O!\" dix\u00f3 el borrico        \"Only hear my fine playing!\"\n    \"Que bien s\u00e9 tocar!           Cries Moke in delight,\n    Y diran que es mala         \"That dull folks vote my braying\n    La musica asnal.\"             A nuisance, despite.\"\n\n            7.                          7.\n\n    Sin reglas del arte         It may happen some once, thus\n    Borriquitos hay               Although they can't write,\n    Que una vez aciertan        Human asses may hit off\n    Por casualidad!               By accident quite!\n\n\n2. The woman invents a name to frighten, and also as a trap for,\nher husband. \"S\u00fbrja, is Sanskrit, and Bagatur, Mongolian for a\n'Hero.' Such combinations are not infrequent.\" (J\u00fclg.)\n\n\"Shura means a Hero in Sanscrit, agreeing not only in sense with\nthe Greek word , but also in derivation; thus revealing a primeval\nagreement in the estimation in which hero-nature was held. It is more\nproperly written Sura, because it comes from Svar, heaven, and means\nliterally 'heavenly.' It is used in that form as an appellation of\nthe Sun. Heroes are so called, because when they fell in battle,\nSvarga, the heaven of deified kings, was given them for their\ndwelling-place. 'Indra shall give to those who fall in battle the\nworld where all wishes are fulfilled, for their portion. Neither\nby sacrifices, nor offerings to the Brahmans, nor by contemplation,\nnor knowledge can mortals attain to Svarga as securely as do heroes\nfalling in battle.' Mah\u00e2 Bh\u00e2rata, xi. 2, v. 60.\" (Lassen, i. 69.)\n\n3. \"The women of Tibet are not indeed taught the use of the bow and\nthe matchlock, but in riding they are as expert and fearless as the\nmen, yet it is only on occasion that they mount a horse, such as when\ntravelling; or when there chances to be no man about the place to\nlook after a stray animal.\" (Abb\u00e9 Huc's \"Travels in China and Tibet,\"\nvol. i. ch. iii.)\n\n4. A very similar story may be found in Barbazan's, \"Fabliaux et\nContes des Po\u00e8tes Fran\u00e7ais des XI-XV Si\u00e8cles,\" in 4 vols., Paris 1808,\nvol. iv. pp. 287-295. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n\n\nTALE XVIII.\n\n1. Shanggasba is possibly a Tibetian word, bsang, grags, pa = \"of good\nfame,\" but more probably it is compounded from the Mongolian sSang,\n\"treasure.\" (J\u00fclg.)\n\n2. Garud\u00e2: see note 2, Tale I. The allusion in this place is to an\nimage of him over a shrine.\n\n3. Silk was cultivated in India at a very early date, probably much\nearlier than any records that remain to us can show; there are twelve\nindigenous species of silkworm. That of China was not introduced\ninto India before the year 419 of our era (Ritter, vol. vi. pt. 1,\n698). The indigenous silkworms fed upon other trees besides the\nmulberry and notably on the ficus religiosa. The Greeks would seem to\nhave learnt the use of silk from the Indians, or at least from the\nPersians. Nearchos is the first Greek writer in whom mention of it\nis found; he describes it as like the finest weft of cotton-stuff,\nand says it was made from fibre scraped from the bark of a tree; an\nerror in which he was followed by other writers; others again wrote\nthat the fibres were combed off the leaf of a tree; yet Pausanias had\nmentioned the worm as the intermediary of its production (C. M\u00fcller,\nPref. to his Edition of Strabo, and notes). The Romans also carried\non a considerable trade in silk with India, and Pliny, vi. 20, 2,\nmentions one kind of Indian silk texture that was so fine and light,\nyou could see through it, \"ut in publico matrona transluceat.\" Horace\nalso alludes to the same, Sat. i. 2, 101. Pliny also complains of the\nluxury whereby this costly stuff was used, not only for dresses, but\nfor coverings of cushions. [68] Vopiscus, in his life of the Emperor\nAurelian, tells us that at that time a pound weight of silk was worth\na pound weight of gold. In India itself the luxurious use of silk has\nrestrictions put upon it in the Manu. It was also prescribed that when\nmen devoted themselves to the hermit life in the jungle, they should\nlay aside their silken clothing; and we find R\u00e2ma (R\u00e2majana, ii. 37,\n14) putting on a penitential habit over his silken robe. The M\u00e2ha\nBh\u00e2rata (ii. cap. 50) contains a passage in which among the objects\nbrought in tribute to Judhishthira is k\u00eetaga, or the \"insect-product,\"\na word used to designate both silk and cochineal.\n\n4. A similar episode occurs in a tale collected in the neighbourhood\nof Schwaz in North Tirol which I have given under the name of\n\"Prince Radpot\" in \"Household Stories from the Land of Hofer.\" The\nrest of the story recalls that called \"The three Black Dogs\" in the\nsame collection, but there is much more grace and pathos about the\nTirolean version.\n\n\n\nTALE XIX.\n\n1. See note 2, Tale XVII.\n\n2. The fox plays a similar part in many an Eastern fable. The first\nbook of the Pantscha Tantra Collection is entitled Mitrabheda, or\nthe Art of Mischief-making. A lion-king who has two foxes for his\nministers falls into great alarm one day, because he hears for the\nfirst time in his life the roaring of an ox, which some merchants\nhad left behind them because it was lame and sick. The lion consults\nhis two ministers in this strait, and the two while laughing at\nhis fears determine to entertain them in order to enhance their\nown usefulness. First they visit the ox and make sure he is quite\ninfirm and harmless, and then they go to the lion, and tell him it\nis the terrible Ox-king, the bearer of Shiva, and that Shiva has\nsent him down into that forest to devour all the animals in it small\nand great. The lion is not surprised to hear his fears confirmed and\nentreats his ministers to find him a way out of the difficulty. The\nfoxes pretend to undertake the negotiation and then go back to\nthe ox and tell him it is the command of the king that he quit the\nforest. The ox pleads his age and infirmities and desolate condition,\nand the foxes having made him believe in the value of their services\nas intermediaries bring him to the lion. Both parties are immensely\ngrateful to the ministers for having as each thinks softened the\nheart of the other, but the foxes begin to see they have taken a\nfalse step in bringing the ox to the lion, as they become such fast\nfriends, that there is danger of their companionship being no longer\nsought by their master. They determine, therefore, the ox must be\nkilled; but how are they to kill so disproportioned a victim? They\nmust make the lion do the execution himself. But how? they are such\nsworn friends. They find the lion alone and fill his mind with alarm,\nassure him the ox is plotting to kill him. They hardly gain credit,\nbut the lion promises to be on his guard; while they are on the watch\nalso for any accident which may give colour to their design. Meantime,\nthey keep up each other's courage by the narration of fables showing\nhow by perseverance in cunning any perfidy may be accomplished. At\nlast it happens one day that a frightful storm comes on while the\nox is out grazing. He comes galloping back to seek the cover of the\nforest, shaking his head and sides to get rid of the heavy raindrops,\ntearing up the ground with his heavy hoofs in his speed, and his\ntail stretched out wildly behind. \"See!\" say the foxes to the lion;\n\"see if we were not right. Behold how he comes tramping along ready\nto devour thee; see how his eyes glisten with fury, see how he gnashes\nhis teeth, see how he tears up the earth with his powerful hoofs!\" The\nlion cannot remain unconvinced in presence of such evidence. \"Now is\nyour moment,\" cry the foxes; \"be beforehand with him before he reaches\nyou.\" Thus instigated the lion falls upon the ox. The ox surprised\nat this extraordinary reception, and already out of breath, is thrown\nupon the defensive, and in his efforts to save himself the lion sees\nthe proof of his intention to attack. Accordingly he sets no bounds to\nhis fury, and has soon torn him in pieces. The foxes get the benefit\nof a feast for many days on his flesh, besides being reinstated in\nthe full empire over their master. In one of the fables, however,\nthe tables are cleverly turned on Reynard by \"the sagacity of the\nbearded goat.\" An old he-goat having remained behind on the mountains,\none day, when the rest of the herd went home, found himself suddenly\nin presence of a lion. Remembering that a moment's hesitation would\nbe his death, he assumed a bold countenance and walked straight up to\nthe lion. The lion, astonished at this unwonted procedure, thinks it\nmust be some very extraordinary beast; and instead of setting upon\nit, after his wont, speaks civilly to it, saying, \"Thou of the long\nbeard, whence art thou?\" The goat answered, \"I am a devout servant of\nShiva to whom I have promised to make sacrifice of twenty-one tigers,\ntwenty-five elephants, and ten lions; the tigers and the elephants\nhave I already slain, and now I am seeking for ten lions to slay.\" The\nlion hearing this formidable declaration, without waiting for more,\nturned him and fled. As he ran he fell in with a fox, who asked him\nwhither he ran so fast. The lion gives a ridiculous description of\nthe goat, dictated by his terror; the fox recognizes that it is only a\ngoat, and thinking to profit by the remains of his flesh perfidiously\nurges him to go back and slaughter him. He accordingly goes back with\nthis intention, but the goat is equal to the occasion, and turning\nsharply upon the fox, exclaims, \"Did I not send thee out to fetch me\nten lions for the sacrifice? How then darest thou to appear before me\nhaving only snared me one?\" The lion thinking his reproaches genuine,\nonce more turns tail and makes good his escape. It has much similarity\nwith the episode of the hare and the wolf in the next tale.\n\n3. Svarga. See note 2, Tale XVII.\n\n\n\nTALE XX.\n\n1. Hiranjavat\u00ee, \"the gold-coloured river,\" also called Svarnavati,\n\"the yellow river,\" both names occurring only in Buddhist writers:\none of the northern tributaries of the Ganges, into which it falls\nnot far from Patna, and the chief river of Nepaul. Its name was\nproperly Gandakavat\u00ee = \"Rhinoceros-river,\" or simply Gan'da'k\u00ee,\nwhence its modern name of the Goondook, as also that of Kondochates,\ninto which it was transformed by the Greek geographers. In its upper\ncourse it often brings down ammonite petrifactions, which are believed\nto be incarnations or manifestations of Vishnu, hence it has a sacred\ncharacter, and on its banks are numerous spots of pilgrimage.\n\n2. Concerning such distributions of alms, see Koppen, i. 581 et seq.\n\n3. The story affords no data on which to decide whether this cynical\nspeech is supposed to be a serious utterance representing the actual\nmotives on which the mendicant life was actually adopted under the\nteaching of Buddhism, affording a strong contrast from those which\nhave prompted to it under Christianity, or whether it is intended as\na satire on the Bhixu. (For Bhixu, see pp. 330, 332.)\n\n4. I know not how the tufts of wool could have got caught off\nthe sheeps' backs on to ant-heaps, unless it be that the marmots\nbeing as we have already seen (note 3, Tale IV.) called ants, the\ntale-repeater takes it for granted there are marmot-holes in Nepaul\nlike those familiar to him in Mongolia, which Abb\u00e9 Huc thus describes\n(vol. i. ch. ii.), \"These animals construct over the opening of their\nlittle dens a sort of miniature dome composed of grass artistically\ntwisted, designed as a shelter from wind and rain. These little heaps\nof dried grass are of the size and shape of mole-hills. Cold made us\ncruel, and we proceeded to level the house-domes of these poor little\nanimals, which retreated into their holes below, as we approached. By\nmeans of this Vandalism we managed to collect a sackful of efficient\nfuel, and so warmed the water which was our only aliment that day.\"\n\n5. \"Though there is so much gold and silver there is great destitution\nin Tibet. At Lha-Ssa, for instance, the number of mendicants is\nenormous. They go from door to door soliciting a handful of tsamba\n(barley-meal), and enter any one's house without ceremony. The\nmanner of asking alms is to hold out the closed hand with the thumb\nraised. We must add in commendation of the Tibetians that they are\ngenerally very kind and compassionate, rarely sending the mendicant\naway unassisted.\" (Abb\u00e9 Huc, vol. ii. ch. v.)\n\n6. Indian tales often remind one of the frequent web of a dream in\nwhich one imagines oneself starting in pursuit of a particular object,\nbut another and another fancy intervenes and the first purpose becomes\naltogether lost sight of. This was particularly observable in the tale\nentitled \"How the Schimnu-Khan was slain,\" in which, after many times\nintending it, Massang never goes back to thank his master at last. The\npresent is a still more striking instance, in its consequence and\nrepeated change of purport. In pursuing the mendicant's life, the\nsearch for the man's parents is forgotten; and the man and his wife\nare themselves lost sight of in the episode of the lamb.\n\n7. Concerning the combination of the Moon and the hare, see Liebrecht,\nin Lazarus and Steinthal, Zeitschrift, vol. i. pt. 1. The Mongols\nsee in the spots in the moon the figure of a hare, and imagine it\nwas placed there in memory of Sh\u00e2kjamuni having once transformed\nhimself into a hare out of self-sacrifice, that he might serve a\nhungry wayfarer for a meal. (Bergman, Nomadische Streifereien unter\nden Kalm\u00fcken, in 1802-3, quoted by J\u00fclg.)\n\n8. See note 5, Tale III.\n\n\n\nTALE XXI.\n\n1. Compare this story with the \"Wunderharfe\" in the \"M\u00e4hrchensaal\"\nof Kletke. (J\u00fclg.) Its similarity with the story of King Midas will\nstrike every reader.\n\n2. Chara Kitad = Black China; the term designates the north of China.\n\n3. Daibang (in Chinese, Tai-ping = peace and happiness), the usual\nMongolian designation for the Chinese Emperor. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n4. See note 9, Tale IV.\n\n\n\nTALE XXII.\n\n1. Bagatur-Ssedkiltu, \"of heroic capacity.\" (J\u00fclg.) See Note 2,\nTale XVII.\n\n2. The Three Precious Treasures, see note 3, Tale XVI.\n\n3. Pearls. Arrianus (Ind. viii. 8) quotes from Megasthenes, a legend\nin which the discovery of pearls is ascribed to Crishna. The passage\nfurther implies that the Greek name margar'ithc was received from\nan Indian name, which may be the case through the Dekhan dialect,\nthough there is nothing like it in Sanskrit, unless it be traced from\nmarkar\u00e2, a hollow vessel. The Sanskrit word for pearls is mukt\u00e1,\n\"dropt\" or \"set free,\" \"dropt by the rain-clouds.\" (See Lassen,\nIndische Alterthumskunde, i. 244 n. 1. See also note 4, Tale XIV.) How\nthe Preserver of mother-o'-pearl shells comes to live up a river,\nI know not, unless in his royal character he was supposed to have\nan outlying country-villa. However Megasthenes (quoted by Lassen,\nii. 680, n. 2) tells us not only that there were many crocodiles and\nalligators in the Indus, but also that many fishes and molluscs came\nup the stream out of the sea as far as the confluence of the Akesines,\nand small ones as far as the mountains. Onesikritos mentions the same\nconcerning other rivers.\n\n4. The serpent-gods are spoken of sometimes as if they were supposed to\nwear a human form and as often as in their reptile form. In the present\nplace in the text there is a strange confusion between the two ideas,\nthe \"son\" whom the White Serpent king comes to seek evidently wore\na reptile form, as when he was in the owl's mouth he resembled the\nTamer's girdle, yet the king himself and his companion are said to\nbe riding on horses; as it is also said they come out of the water\nit was probably a crocodile that the story-teller had in his mind's\neye, and which might fancifully be conceived to be a serpent riding on\nhorseback, as a centaur represents a man on horseback. The serpent-gods\ngenerally would seem to be more properly termed reptile-gods, as\nnot only ophidians and saurians seem to belong to their empire, but\nbatrachians also; in this very story the gold frog is reckoned the\nactual daughter of the White Serpent-king, probably even emydians also,\nthough I do not recall an example. Water-snakes, however, are common in\nAsia, and there is also there a group of batrachians called c\u00e6lici\u00e6,\nwhich are cylindrical in form, without feet and moving like serpents,\nand considered to form a link between that family and their own. I do\nnot know if this in any way explains the symbolism whereby a creature\nthat had any right to be reckoned a frog could be called the daughter\nof a serpent-king.\n\nWhen the stories of encounters of heroes with huge malevolent\nserpents, or crocodiles, passed into the mythology of Europe, these\nwere generally replaced by \"dragons,\" or monsters, such as \"Grendel\"\nin our Anglo-Saxon \"Lay of Beowulf.\" There are some, however, in which\na bon\u00e2 fide serpent figures. In parts of Tirol, a white serpent is\nspoken of as a \"serpent-queen\" and as more dangerous than the others;\nvarious are the legends in which the release of a spell-bound princess\ndepends on the deliverer suffering himself to be three times encircled,\nand the third time, kissed by a serpent; the trial frequently fails\nat the third attempt. Sir Lancelot, if I remember right, accomplished\nit in the end.\n\nEvery collection of medi\u00e6val legends contains stories of combats with\ndragons, the groundwork probably brought from the East, and the detail\nmade to fit the hero of some local deliverance; the mythology of Tirol\nis particularly rich in this class, almost every valley has its own;\nat Wilten, near Innsbruck, the sting of a dragon is shown as of that\nkilled by the Christian giant Haymon; the one I have given in \"Zovanin\nsenza paura,\" from the Italian Tirol (p. 348, \"Household Stories\nfrom the Land of Hofer\"), has this similarity with Tales II. and V.,\nthat it is actually the water supply of the infested district which\nis stopped by the dragon. There is this great difference, however,\nbetween the Eastern and later Western versions of serpent myths. The\nIndians having deified the serpent, their heroic tales have no further\naim than that of propitiating him. On the other hand, it was not long\nbefore the religious influence under which the Christian myths were\nmoulded had connected and by degrees identified the serpent-exterior,\nunder the parable of which they set forth their local plague, with\nthat under which the adversary of souls is named in the sacred story\nof the garden of Eden; and thus it became a necessity of the case\nthat the Christian hero should destroy or at least vanquish it.\n\nThough the Indian serpent-gods seem to have been generally feared and\nhated, we have instances--and that even in this little volume--of their\nharmlessness also and even beneficence. An innocuous and benevolent\nphase of dragon-character seems to have been adopted also in the early\nheathen mythology of Europe. Nork (Mythologie der Volkssagen) tells\nus the dragon was held sacred to Wodin, and its image was placed over\nhouses, town-gates, and towers, as a talisman against evil influences;\nand I have met with a popular superstition lingering yet in Tirol that\nto meet a crested adder (the European representative, I believe, of\nthe Cobra di capello, which is, as we have seen, the species specially\nworshipped in India) brings good luck. I have said I do not remember\nan instance in Indian mythology in which any member of the emydian\nfamily comes under the empire of the serpent-god; I should expect\nthere are such instances, however, as the counterpart exists in Tirol,\nwhere there are stories of mysterious fascination exercised by sacred\nshrines upon the little land-tortoises and which have in consequence\nbeen regarded by the peasantry as representing wandering souls waiting\nfor the completion of their purgatorial penance. See also concerning\nthe serpent-gods, note 1 to Tale II.\n\n5. Mirjalaktschi. J\u00fclg says, \"Fettmacher\" (fat-maker) is the best\nequivalent he can give, but he is not convinced of its correctness,\nand then exposes what he understands by \"Fettmacher\" by two German\nexpressions, one, meaning \"pot-bellied,\" and the other not renderable\nin English to ears polite. It would seem more in accordance with the\nuse of the name in the text to understand his own word Fettmacher,\nas \"he giving abundance,\" \"he making fat.\"\n\n6. Gambudv\u00eepa. I have already (page viii.) had occasion to explain\nthis native name of India; otherwise spelt Dschambudv\u00eepa and Jambudv\u00eepa\nand Jambud\u00eepa. But as I only there spoke of the actual species of the\ngambu-tree, one of the indigenous productions of India, I ought further\nto mention that the name is rather derived from a fabulous specimen\nof it, supposed to grow on the sacred mountain of Meru. Spence Hardy\n(\"Legends and Theories of the Buddhists,\" p. 95) quotes the following\ndescription of it from one of the late commentaries of the Sutras:\n\"From the root to the highest part is a thousand miles; the space\ncovered by its outspreading branches is three thousand miles in\ncircumference. The trunk is one hundred and fifty miles round, and five\nhundred miles in height from the root to the place where the branches\nbegin to extend; the four great branches of it are each five hundred\nmiles long, and from between these flow four great rivers. Where the\nfruit of the tree falls, small plants of gold arise which are washed\ninto one of the rivers.\" Earlier descriptions are less exaggerated;\ndetails remaining in this one suggest that it has not been invented\nwithout aid from some lingering remnant of an early tradition of the\nTree of Life and the four rivers of Paradise, \"the gold of\" one of\nwhich \"is good.\"\n\nThe great continent of India being called an island is explained in a\nparable from the Jin\u00e2lank\u00e2ra, given at p. 87 of the same work, likening\nthe outer Sakwala ridge or boundary of the universe to the rim of a\njar or vessel; the vessel filled with sauce representing the ocean\nand the continents, like masses of cooked rice floating in the same.\n\nAt p. 82, he quotes from the first-mentioned commentary a description\nof the mountain of M\u00e9ru itself, illustrative of the habitual\nexaggeration of the Indian sacred writers. \"Between Maha M\u00e9ru and\nthe Sakwala ridge are seven circles of rocks with seven seas between\nthem. They are circular because of the shape of Maha M\u00e9ru. The first or\ninnermost, Yugandhara, is 210,000 miles broad; its inner circumference\nis 7,560,000 miles, and its outer, 8,220,000 miles; from Maha M\u00e9ru\nto Yugandhara is 840,000 miles. Near Maha M\u00e9ru, the depth of the sea\nis 840,000 miles, &c.,\" the seven circles being all described with\nanalogous dimensions. Also p. 42, \"Buddha knows how many atoms there\nare in Maha M\u00e9ru, although it is a million miles in height.\"\n\n\n\nTALE XXIII.\n\n1. \"The five colours,\" see note 5, Tale IV.\n\n\"The seven precious things,\" are variously stated. Sometimes they\nare gold, silver, lapis lazuli, crystal, red pearls, diamond and\ncoral. Sometimes gold and silver are left out of the reckoning,\nand rubies and emeralds substituted. See K\u00f6ppen, i. 540 et seq. The\nextravagant and incongruous description in the text is not artistic.\n\n2. The month Pushja. Before the time of Vikram\u00e2ditja astronomy was not\nstudied in India as a science; the course of the heavenly bodies was\nobserved, but only for the sake of determining the times and seasons\nof feasts and sacrifices. The moon was the chief subject of observation\nand of the more correct results of the same. Her path was divided into\ntwenty-eight \"houses\" or \"mansions\" called naxatra. This division\nwas invented by the Chinese, and India received it from them about\n1100 B.C. The naxatravidj\u00e2 or the knowledge of the moon-mansions,\nis set down in one of the oldest Upanishad as a special kind of\nknowledge. In the oldest enumeration extant of the moon-mansions only\ntwenty-seven are mentioned, and the first of them is called Krittik\u00e2,\nand Abhigit, which is the 20th, according to the latest enumeration,\nis wanting; other lists have other discrepancies. It is worthy of\nnotice that Kandramas, the earliest name by which the moon is invoked\nin the V\u00eada, is composed of kandra, \"shining,\" and mas, \"to measure,\"\nbecause the moon measured time, and the various names of the moon\nin all the so-called Indo-European languages are supposed to come\nfrom this last word. There were also four moon-divinities invoked,\nas Kuh\u00fb, Sinivali, R\u00e2k\u00e2, and Anumati, in the Rig V\u00eada hymns; these\nare all feminine deities. Soma, the later moon-divinity, however,\nwas masculine, and had twenty-seven of the fifty daughters of Daxa\nfor his wives. Kandramas was also a male divinity. The worship of\nthe four goddesses I have named was afterwards superseded by four\n(also feminine) deifications of the phases of the moon. There seems a\nlittle difficulty, however, about fitting their names to them. Pushja,\nwith which we are more particularly concerned, would properly imply\n\"waxing,\" but she presided nevertheless over the last quarter; Krita,\nmeaning the \"finished\" course, over the new moon; the appellations\nof the others fit better. Drapura (derived from dva, two) designated\nthe second quarter, and Kh\u00e2rv\u00e2, \"the beginning to wane,\" the full\nmoon. In the list given by Amarasinha of the moon-mansions, Pushja\nis the name of the eighth, in the Mah\u00e2 Bh\u00e2rata it stands for the sixth.\n\nThe month Pauscha answers to our December. (Lassen, iii. 819.)\n\n3. We have many early proofs that India possessed an indigenous\nbreed of hunting-dogs of noble and somewhat fierce character. They\nwere much esteemed as hunting-dogs by the Persians, and formed an\nimportant article of commerce. Herodotus (i. 192) mentions their being\nimported into Babylon; whether the mighty hunter Nimrod had a high\nopinion of them, there is perhaps no means of ascertaining. Strabo\n(xv. i. \u00a7 31) says they were not afraid to hunt lions. In the Ramajana,\n(ii. 70, 21) Ashvapati gives Rama a present of \"swift asses and dogs\nbred in the palace, large in stature, with the strength of tigers,\nand teeth meet to fight withal.\" Alexander found them sufficiently\nsuperior to his own to take with him a present of them offered him\nby Sopeithes. Aristobulos, Megasthenes, and \u00c6lianus mention their\nqualities with admiration. Their strength and courage led to the\nerroneous tradition that they were suckled by tigers (see Pliny,\nviii. 65, I). Plutarch (De Soc. Anim. x. 4) quotes a passage from an\nearlier Greek writer, saying they were so noble, that though when they\ncaught a hare they gladly sucked his blood, yet that if one lay down\nexhausted with the course, they would not kill it, but stood round\nit in a circle, wagging their tails to show their enjoyment was not\nin the blood, but in the victory.\n\nThe house-dog and herd-dog, however, was rather looked down upon; it\nand the ass were the only animals the Kandala or lowest caste were\nallowed to possess (Manu, x. 51), and it is still called Paria-dog\n(Bp Heber's \"Journey,\" i. 490).\n\n4. A functionary invented by the Mongolian tale-repeater. The idea\nevidently borrowed from his knowledge of the paramount authority of\nthe Tal\u00e9 Lama of Tibet, leading him to suppose there must exist a\ncorresponding dignity in India.\n\n5. Barin Tschidaktschi Erdekctu, \"The mighty one at taking distant\naim.\" (J\u00fclg.)\n\n6. Gesser Khan, the great hero of Mongolian tales; called also \"The\nmighty Destroyer of the root of the seven evils in the seven places\nof the earth.\" (J\u00fclg.)\n\n7. Tschin-t\u00e2mani, Sanskrit, \"Thought-jewel,\" is a jewel possessing the\nmagic power of producing whatever object the possessor of it sets his\nheart upon. (B\u00f6htlingk and Roth, Sanskrit Dict.) See infra, note 2,\nto \"The False Friend,\" and note 8 to \"Vikram\u00e2ditja's Youth.\"\n\n8. Barss-Irbiss, \"leopard-tiger.\" (J\u00fclg.)\n\n\n\nHISTORICAL NOTICE OF VIKRAM\u00c2DITJA.\n\n1. Professor Wilson.\n\n2. Reinaud, Fragments relatifs \u00e0 l'Inde.\n\n3. See a most extraordinary instance of this noticed in note 11 of\nthe Tale in this volume entitled \"Vikram\u00e2ditja makes the Silent Speak.\"\n\n4. Thus Reinaud (M\u00e9moire G\u00e9ographique sur l'Inde, p. 80) speaks of a\nking of this name who governed Cashmere A.D. 517, as if he were the\noriginal Vikram\u00e2ditja.\n\n5. The honour of being the first to work this mine of information\nbelongs to H. Todd; see his \"Account of Indian Medals,\" in Trans. of\nAs. Soc.\n\n6. The art of coining at all was, in all probability, introduced\nby the Greeks.--Wilson, Ariana Antiqua, p. 403; also Prinsep, in\nJourn. of As. Soc. i. 394.\n\n7. In the list of kings given by Lassen, iv. 969, 970, there are\neight kings called Vikram\u00e2ditja, either as a name or a surname,\nbetween A.D. 500 and 1000.\n\n8. The kingdom of Mal\u00e2va answers to the present province of Malwa,\ncomprising the table-land enclosed between the Vindhja and Haravat\u00ee\nranges. The amenity of its climate made it the favourite residence of\nthe rulers of this part of India, and we find in it a number of former\ncapitals of great empires. It lay near the commercial coast of Guzerat,\nand through it were highways from Northern India over the Vindhja\nrange into the Dekhan. It is also well watered; its chief river, the\nKharmanvati (now Kumbal), rises in the Vindhja mountains, and falls\ninto the Jumna. At its confluence with the Sipr\u00e2, a little tributary,\nwas situated Uggajini = \"the Victorious,\" now called Uggeni, Ozene,\nand Oojein, and still the first meridian of Indian astronomers. It\nalso bore the name of Avant\u00ee = \"the Protecting,\" from the circumstance\nof its having given refuge to this Vikram\u00e2ditja in his infancy.\n\n9. This length of reign is actually ascribed to him in the\nChronological Table out of the Kalijuga-R\u00e2gakaritra, given in Journ. of\nthe As. Soc. p. 496.\n\n10. This resolution was quite in conformity with the prevailing\nreligious teaching. In the collection of laws and precepts called the\nMan\u00fb, many rules are laid down for this kind of life, and were followed\nto a prodigious extent both by solitaries and communities; e.g. \"When\nthe grihastha = 'father of the house,' finds wrinkles and grey hairs\ncoming, and when children's children are begotten to him, then it is\ntime for him to forsake inhabited places for the jungle.\" It is further\nprescribed that he should expose himself there to all kinds of perils,\nprivations, and hardships. He is not to shrink from encounters with\ninimical tribes; he is to live on wild fruits, roots, and water. In\nsummer he is to expose himself to the heat of fierce fires, and in\nthe rainy season to the wet, without seeking shelter; in the coldest\nwinter he is to go clothed in damp raiment. By these, and such means,\nhe was to acquire indifference to all corporeal considerations, and\nreach after union with the Highest Being. Man\u00fb, v. 29; vii. 1-30;\nviii. 28; x. 5; xi. 48, 53; xvii. 5, 7, 24; xviii. 3-5, &c., &c. It is\nimpossible not to be struck, in studying such passages as these, with\na reflection of the inferiority which every other religious system,\neven in its sublimest aims, presents to Christianity. If, indeed,\nthere were a first uniform limit appointed to the hand of death at the\nage of threescore years and ten, then it might be a clever rule to\nfix the appearance of wrinkles, grey hairs, and children's children\nas the period for beginning to contemplate what is to come after it;\nbut, as the number of those who are summoned to actual acquaintance\nwith that futurity before that age is pretty nearly as great as\nthat of those who surpass it, the maxim carries on the face of it\nthat it is dictated by a very fallible, however well-intentioned,\nguide. Christianity knows no such limit, but opens its perfect teaching\nto the contemplation of \"babes;\" while, practically, experience shows\nthat those who are called early to a life of religion are far more\nnumerous than those in advanced years.\n\n11. Given in W. Taylor's Orient. Hist. MSS., i. 199.\n\n12. \"The Indians have no actual history written by\nthemselves.\" (Lassen, Indische Alterthumskunde, i. 357, note 1.)\n\n13. Klaproth, W\u00fcrdigung der Asiatischen Geschichtschreiber.\n\n14. Indien, p. 17.\n\n15. Examen Critique, p. 347.\n\n16. But only committed to memory. See supra, p. 333.\n\n17. Burnouf, Introduction \u00e0 l'Hist. du Buddh., vol i.\n\n18. Concerning the late introduction of this idea, see supra,\npp. 337-8.\n\n19. Indische Alterthumskunde, i. 839.\n\n20. Lassen, iii., p. 44.\n\n21. Mommsen (History of Rome, book iv., ch. viii.), writing of\nMithridates Eupator, who died within a few years of the date ascribed\nto Vikram\u00e2ditja's birth, says, \"Although our accounts regarding him\nare, in substance, traceable to written records of contemporaries,\nyet the legendary tradition, which is generated with lightning\nexpedition in the East, early adorned the mighty king with many\nsuperhuman traits. These traits, however, belong to his character\njust as the crown of clouds belongs to the character of the highest\nmountain peaks; the outline of the figure appears in both cases, only\nmore coloured and fantastic, not disturbed or essentially altered.\"\n\n22. The legend from which the following is gathered has been given\nby Wilford, in a paper entitled \"Vikram\u00e2ditja and Saliv\u00e2h\u00e2na, their\nrespective eras.\"\n\n23. See Lassen, Indische Alterthumskunde, ii. 49-56.\n\n24. Wilson, in Mackenzie Collection, p. 343.\n\n25. A vet\u00e2la is a kind of sprite, not always bad-natured, usually\ncarrying on a kind of weird existence in burial-places. \"They\ncan possess themselves of the forms of those who die by the hand\nof justice, and assume them. By the power of magic men can make\nthem obedient, and use them for all manner of difficult tasks\nabove their own strength and sufficiency.\" Brockhaus' Report of\nthe R. Saxon Scientific Soc. Philologico-historical Class, 1863,\np. 181. \"The Vet\u00e2las were a late introduction among the gods of popular\nveneration.\" (Lassen, iv. 570.) \"They came also to be regarded as\nincarnations of both Vishnu and Shiva.\" (Lassen, iv. 159.)\n\n26. Two interesting instances of the way in which traditionary legends\nbecome attached to various persons as they float along the current\nof time, have been brought to my notice while preparing these sheets\nfor the press. I cannot now recall where I picked up the story of\n\"The Balladmaker and the Bootmaker,\" which I have given in \"Patra\u00f1as,\"\nbut I am sure it was told of a wandering minstrel, and as occurring on\nSpanish soil, as I have given it. I have since met it in \"The Hundred\nNovels\" of Sacchetti (written little after the time of Boccacio)\nas an episode in a no less celebrated life than that of Dante, thus:\n\"... Going out and passing by Porta S. Piero (Florence), he (Dante)\nheard a blacksmith beating on his anvil, and singing 'Dante' just\nas one sings a common ballad; mutilating here, and mixing in verses\nof his own there; by which means Dante perceived that he sustained\ngreat injury. He said nothing, however, but went into the workshop,\nto where were laid ready many tools for use in the trade. Dante first\ntook up the hammer and flung it into the road; took up the pincers\nand flung them into the road; took up the scales and flung them out\ninto the road. When he had thus flung many tools into the road, the\nblacksmith turned round with a brutal air, crying out, 'Che diavol'\nfate voi? Are you mad?' But Dante said, 'And thou; what hast thou\ndone?' 'I am busied about my craft,' said the blacksmith; 'and you\nare spoiling my gear, throwing it out into the road like that.' Said\nDante, 'If you don't want me to spoil your things, don't you spoil\nmine.' Said the smith. 'What have I spoilt of yours?' Said Dante,\n'You sing my book, and you say it not as I made it; poem-making is my\ntrade, and you have spoilt it.' Then the blacksmith was full of fury,\nbut he had nothing to say; so he went out and picked up his tools,\nand went on with his work, And the next time he felt inclined to sing,\nhe sang Tristano and Lancellotte, and left Dante alone.\" \"... Another\nday Dante was walking along, wearing the gorget and the bracciaiuola,\naccording to the custom of the time, when he met a man driving an\nass having a load of street sweepings, who, as he walked behind\nhis ass, ever and anon sang Dante's book, and when he had sung\na line or two, gave the donkey a hit, and cried 'Arrri!' Dante,\ncoming up with him, gave him a blow on his shoulder with his armlet\n('con la bracciaiuola gli diede una grande batacchiata,' literally\n'bastonnade:' bracciaiuola stands for both the armour covering the arm,\nand for the tolerably formidable wooden instrument, fixed to the arm,\nwith which pallone-players strike the ball), saying, as he did so,\n'That \"arrri\" was never put in by me.' As soon as the ass-driver\nhad got out of his way, he turned and made faces at Dante, saying,\n'Take that!' But Dante, without suffering himself to be led into an\naltercation with such a man, replied, amid the applause of all, 'I\nwould not give one of mine for a hundred of thine!'\" (2.) It was lately\nmentioned to me that there is a narrow mountain-pass in the Lechthal,\nin Tirol, which is sometimes called Mangtritt (or St. Magnus' step),\nand sometimes Jusalte (Saltus Julii, the leap of Julius), because\none tradition says Julius C\u00e6sar leapt through it on horseback, and\nanother that it opened to let St. Magnus pass through when escaping\nfrom a heathen horde.\n\n27. Quoted by W. Taylor, in Journ. of As. Soc. vii. p. 391.\n\n28. Quoted by Wilford, as above.\n\n29. Quoted in Wilford's \"Sacred Isles of the West.\"\n\n30. Lassen.\n\n31. Roth, Extrait du Vikrama-Charitram, p. 279.\n\n32. Lassen, ii. p. 1154.\n\n33. Lassen, ii. 1122-1129.\n\n34. Abb\u00e9 Huc narrates how enthusiastically the young Mongol toolholos,\nor bard, sang to him the Invocation of Timour, of which he gives the\nrefrain as follows:--\"We have burned the sweet-smelling wood at the\nfeet of the divine Timour. Our foreheads bent to the earth, we have\noffered to him the green leaf of tea, and the milk of our herds. We\nare ready: the Mongols are on foot, O Timour!\n\n\n        \"O Divine Timour, when will thy great soul revive?\n        Return! Return! We await thee, O Timour!\"\n\n\n35. See Note 11 to \"Vikram\u00e2ditja makes the Silent Speak.\"\n\n\n\nTHE BOY-KING.\n\n1. Ardschi-Bordschi is a Mongolian corruption of King Bhoga. (J\u00fclg.)\n\nThe name of Bhoga (also written Noe, Nauge, and Noza; the N having\nentered from a careless following of the Persian historian Abulfazl,\nn and b being only distinguished by a point in Persian writing; and\nthe z through the Portuguese, who habitually rendered the Indian g\nthus) seems to have been almost as favourite an appellation as that\nof Vikram\u00e2ditja itself, and pretty equally surrounded with confusion\nof fabulous incident.\n\nThe Bhoga were one of the mightiest dynasties of ancient India,\nand the name was given to the family on account of their unbounded\nprosperity; being derived from bhug = enjoyment. The most celebrated\nking of the race bore a name which in our own day has become associated\nwith prosperous rule, Bhoga Bismarka, or Bhismarka, is celebrated\nin ancient Sagas for his resistless might in the field, and was also\naccounted the type of a prudent and far-sighted sovereign. Many glories\nare fabled of him which I have not space to narrate, and even he only\nreigned over a fourth part of the Bhoga.\n\nThe individual Bhoga, however, who is probably the subject of the\npresent story, and the details of whose virtues and wisdom present\nparticular analogies with the life of Vikram\u00e2ditja is, comparatively\nspeaking, modern, as he reigned from A.D. 1037 to 1093 according\nto some, or from 997 to 1053 according to others. He was likewise\noriginally King of Mal\u00e1va or Malwa, and fabulous conquests and\nextensions of dominion are likewise ascribed to him.\n\nHe was the greatest king of the Pr\u00e2m\u00e2ra dynasty, one of the four\nso-called Agnikula, or \"from-the-god-Agni-descended,\" or \"fire-born\"\ntribes, and traced up his pedigree to a certain Param\u00e2ra, \"The\ndestroyer of adversaries,\" born at the prayer of the Hermit Rishi\nVasichta on the lofty mountain of Arbuda (Arboo).\n\nThe story of this Bhoga is contained in two somewhat legendary\naccounts, called (1) the Bhogaprabandha, or poetical narrative\nconcerning Bhoga; and (2) the Bhogakaritra, or the deeds of Bhoga. The\nfirst was written or collected by the Pandit Vallabha about 1340. The\nfirst part relates the circumstances concerning Bhoga's mounting the\nthrone, and the second part is a history of the poets and learned\nmen who flocked from all parts of India to his court. It tells\nan intricate fable about his having been persecuted in youth by a\ntreacherous uncle who preceded him on the throne, but who afterwards\ncame to repentance, while a supernatural interposition delivered\nBhoga from all his machinations and made him master of Gauda or\nBengal, and many other parts of India. Other legends mention his\ndiscovery of the throne of Vikram\u00e2ditja, and make the figures on the\nsteps Apsarasas, or nymphs, who were delivered and set free by him\nwhen he took possession of it and removed it to Dhara, whither he had\ntransferred his capital from Uggajini. An Inscription (given at length,\nviii. 5, 6, in Journ. of As. Soc. of Bengal, v. p. 376) speaks thus\nof him:--\"The most prosperous king Bhogadeva was the most illustrious\nof the whole generation of the Pr\u00e2m\u00e2ra. He attained to glory as great\nas that of the destroyer (Crishna) and traversed the universe to its\nutmost boundaries. His fame rose like the moonbeams over the mountains\nand rivers of the regions of the earth, and before it the renown of\nthe inimical rulers faded away as the pale lotus-blossom is closed\nup.\" The Persian historian Abulfazl testifies in somewhat more sober\nlanguage, that he greatly extended the frontiers of his kingdom.\n\nHis career was not one of unchecked prosperity however. According to\nan Inscription he was at last subdued by his enemy, and it thus gently\ntells the tale of his reverse:--\"After he had attained to equality\nwith V\u00e2sava (Indra) and the land was well watered with streams, his\nrelation Udaj\u00e2ditja became Ruler of the earth.\" His adversary being\na relation, and a Pr\u00e2m\u00e2ra like himself, the feud between them was\nconsidered a scandal, and the inscription avoids perpetuating the\ndetails of it. A legend in the Bhogakaritra supplies some. A hermit\nhad been rather severely judged by King Bhoga for a misdemeanour, and\ncondemned to ride through the streets of the capital on an ass. To\npunish the king for this scandal he went into Cashmere till he had\nacquired the power of making the soul of a man pass into another\nbody. Then he came back and constrained the soul of the king to pass\ninto the body of a parrot while he made his own soul pass into the\nking's body; then he issued a decree commanding the slaughter of all\nthe parrots in the kingdom. The royal parrot, however, who was the\nobject of the decree, effected his escape and came to the court of\nKandrasena, where he became the pet bird of the princess his daughter;\nto her he revealed the story of his transformation. At her instigation\nthe hermit-king was persuaded to come to Kandrasena's court to sue\nfor her hand, and there, by means of an intrigue of hers he was put\nto death. Bhoga thus regained his original form and his kingdom.\n\nAbulfazl celebrates his moderation and uprightness, as well as\nhis liberality and the encouragement he gave to men of learning,\nof whom he had not less than five hundred at one time lodged in his\npalace. This similarity of pursuits helped so to foster the tendency\nof which I have already spoken, to confuse the deeds of one hero with\nanother, that one poet at least (Vararuki by name), who flourished\nunder Bhoga, is reckoned among the nine \"jewels\" of Vikram\u00e2ditja's\ncourt! Kalidasa, who was not very much, if at all later, is also\nput among the prot\u00e9g\u00e9s of Bhoga in the Bhogaprabandha. The actual\nwriters of any note belonging to Bhoga's age, whose names and works\nhave come down to us are chiefly Subandhu and V\u00e2na, authors of two\npoems entitled respectively V\u00e2savadatt\u00e2 and K\u00e2dambar\u00ee, of which a\nreprint was issued at Calcutta in 1850. Dandi, who wrote a celebrated\ndrama called Dashakum\u00e2rakaritra, affording a useful picture of the\nmanners prevailing in Hindustan and the Dekhan in his time; he also\nleft a treatise on the art of poetry, called K\u00e2vjadarsh\u00e2. Another\npoet of this date, named Shankara, has often been confounded with\na philosophical writer of the same name in the eighth century. The\nHarivansha, a mythological poem in continuation of the M\u00e2ha Bh\u00e2rata,\nalso belongs to this reign. Among numerous other works ascribed\nto it, many of which have not yet been examined into by Europeans,\nare several treatises of mathematics and astronomy. Bhoga himself is\nentered in a list of the astronomers of his time, and he was said\nto be the author of a treatise on medicine, called Vriddha Bhoga,\nand of one on jurisprudence, called Smritish\u00e2stra.\n\n2. Boddhisattva. See p. 342 and p. 365.\n\n\n\nTHE FALSE FRIEND.\n\n1. Compare this story with that given Nights 589-593 of Arabian\nNights. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n2. That the jewel-merchant had no written proof of the trust he had\ncommitted to his friend would appear quite in conformity with actual\ncustom, at least in primitive times. Megasthenes has left testimony\n(Strabo xv. i. 53, p. 709), quoted by Schwanbeck (Megas. Ind. p. 113),\nin favour of the general uprightness of the Indians and their little\ninclination to litigation, which he bases on the fact that it was\nthe custom to take no acknowledgment under seal or writing of money\nor jewels entrusted to another, or even to call witnesses to the\nfact; that the word of the man who had entrusted another with such\nsufficed; also \u00c6lianus, V. H. iv. i. This, notwithstanding that the\nManu (dh. c. viii. 180) contains provisions for regulating such\ntransactions in due form and order; the man accordingly does not\nthink of denying that he received the jewel, which would seem the\neasier way of concealing his fraud, because he knew the word of the\njewel-merchant would be taken against his.\n\n3. Stupa, a shrine; often a natural cave; often one artificially hewn;\ncontaining relics, or commemorating some incident considered sacred in\nthe life of a noted Buddhist teacher. We read of stupas instituted at\na spot where there was a tradition Sh\u00e2kjamuni had left a foot-print;\nand another at Kapilvastu, his native place, over the spot where, as we\nsaw in his life, he was led to devote himself to serious contemplations\nby meeting a sick man, &c. When of imposing proportion it was called a\nm\u00e2hast\u00fbpa. When such monuments on the other hand were put together with\nstones (usually pyramidal in form) they were called dh\u00e2tugopa, whence\nEuropeans give them the name of Dagobas. The word Pagoda, with which\nwe are familiar, is probably derived from the Sanskrit bh\u00e2gavata =\n\"Worthy to be venerated.\" The syllable ava was transformed in Prakrit\ninto o, and the ta into da. The Portuguese took the word as applied to\nreligious edifices as distinguished from the kaitja [69], or rock-hewn\ntemples. The word pagoda, however, is usually reserved for Brahmanical\ntemples. The word stupa has now become corrupted into tope, by which\nword you will find it designated by modern writers on India. The\netymology of the word makes it mean much the same as tumulus, but\nkaitja conveys further the meaning that it was a sacred place.\n\n4. The notion of jewels being endowed with talismanic properties is\ncommon in Eastern story. Ktesias (Fragm. lvii. 2, p. 79) mentions\na celebrated Indian magic jewelled seal-ring called Pantarba, which\nhad the property when thrown into the water of attracting to it other\njewels, and that a merchant once drew out one hundred and seventy-seven\nother jewels and seals by its means.\n\n\n\nTHE PRETENDED SON.\n\n1. Schimnu. See supra, note 2, Tale III.\n\n2. Diamond, Sanskrit, vadschra, originally the thunderbolt, Indra's\nsceptre; then the praying-sceptre of the priests; the symbol of\ndurability, immovability, and indestructibility. (K\u00f6ppen i. 251,\nand ii. 271, quoted by J\u00fclg.) It was permitted to none but kings to\npossess them. (Lassen, iii. 18.) See also note 1, Tale XV.\n\n\n\nARDSCHI-BORDSCHI DISCOVERS VIKRAM\u00c2DITJA'S THRONE.\n\n1. We read of a silver statue in one of the many temples founded\nby Lalit\u00e2ditja, King of Cashmere, whose bright golden cuirass \"gave\nforth a stream of light like a river of milk.\" Mentioned in Lassen,\niii. p. 1000, and iv. 575.\n\n2. It will be perceived the story is not without a certain meaning. It\ninculcates regard for the example and experience of the ancient and\nwise--the wisdom of the hero Vikram\u00e2ditja (typified by his throne)\nwas to be the model and guide of other kings and dynasties.\n\n3. Sounding of trumpet-shells. The shankha or concha seems to have been\nthe earliest form of trumpet used in war. It often finds mention in the\nheroic poems. Crishna used one in his warrior character; and Vishnu,\nfrom bearing one, had the appellation shankha and shankhin. To the\npresent day it is used in announcing festivals in Mongolia.\n\n4. S\u00fbta, bard. To this order it is that we are indebted for the\npreservation of so many myths and heroic tales. He was also the\ncharioteer of the kings.\n\n5. The six classes, states, or stages of living beings, by passing\nthrough which Buddhahood was to be attained--(1) Pure spirit or\nthe devas gods (Skr. Sur\u00e2s; Mongolian, Tegri; Kalm. Tenggeri); (2)\nthe unclean spirits, enemies of the gods (Skr. Asur\u00e2s); (3) men;\n(4) beasts; (5) Pret\u00e2s, monsters surrounding the entrance of hell;\n(6) the hell-gods. (K\u00f6ppen, i. 238, et seq., quoted by J\u00fclg.)\n\n\n\nVIKRAM\u00c2DITJA'S BIRTH.\n\n1. Udsessk\u00fclengtu-G\u00f4a-Chatun, a heaping up of synonyms of which\nwe had an example, note 2, Tale XVII. Both words mean \"beautiful,\"\n\"charming.\" Go\u00e2 is a Mongolian expression by which royal women are\ncalled (as also chatun). Thus we sometimes meet with Udsessk\u00fcleng,\nsometimes Udsessk\u00fclengtu (the adjunct tu forming the adjective\nuse of the word); Udsessk\u00fclengtu-Goa, Udsessk\u00fclengtu-Chatun, or\nUdessk\u00fcleng-G\u00f4a-Chatun. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n2. Kaitja or Chaitga is a sacred grotto where relics were preserved,\nor marking a spot where some remarkable event of ancient date had\ntaken place. We are told that King Ashokja (246 B.C.) caused kaitjas\nto be built, or rather hewn, in every spot in his dominions rendered\nsacred by any act of Sh\u00e2kjamuni's life [70]; as also over the relics\nof many of the first teachers (p. 390). The number of these is fabled\nin the Mah\u00e2vansha (v. p. 26) to have been not less than 84,000! He\nopened seven of the shrines in which the relics of Sh\u00e2kjamuni were\noriginally placed, and divided them into so many caskets of gold,\nsilver, crystal, and lapis lazuli, endowing every town of his dominion\nwith one, and building a kaitja over it. These were all completed\nby one given day at one and the same time, and the authority of the\nDharma (law) of Buddha was proclaimed in all. In process of time great\nlabour came to be spent on their decoration, till whole temples were\nhewn out of the living stone, forming almost imperishable records\nof the earliest architecture of the country, and to some extent of\nits history and religion too. The most astonishing remains are to\nbe seen of works of this kind, with files of columns and elaborate\nbas-reliefs sculptured out of the solid rock.\n\n3. Abb\u00e9 Huc tells us that the Mongolians prepare their tea quite\ndifferently from the Chinese. The leaves, instead of being carefully\npicked as in China, are pressed all together along with the smaller\ntendrils and stalks into a mould resembling an ordinary brick. When\nrequired for use a piece of the brick is broken off, pulverized,\nand boiled in a kettle until the water receives a reddish hue, some\nsalt is then thrown in, and when it has become almost black milk is\nadded. It is a great Tartar luxury, and also an article of commerce\nwith Russia; but the Chinese never touch it.\n\n4. An accepted token of veneration and homage. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n5. Sesame-oil. See note 2, Tale V.\n\n6. Kalavinka = Sanskrit, Sperling, belongs to the sacred order of\nbirds and scenes, in this place to be intended for the Kokila. (J\u00fclg.)\n\nThe Kokila, or India cuckoo, is as favourite a bird with Indians as\nthe nightingale is with us. For a description of it see \"A Monograph\nof Indian and Malayan Species of Cuculid\u00e6,\" in Journal of As. Soc. of\nBengal, xi. 908, by Edward Blyth.\n\n7. You are not to imagine that by \"four parts of the universe\"\nis meant any thing like what we have been used to call \"the four\nquarters of the globe.\" The division of the Indian cosmogony was\nvery different and refers to the distribution of the (supposed) known\nuniverse between gods of various orders and men, to the latter being\nassigned the fourth and lowest called Gambudv\u00eepa [71].\n\n8. Concerning such religious gatherings, see K\u00f6ppen, i. 396, 579-583;\nii. 115, 311.\n\nAt such a festival held by Arav\u00e2la, King of Cashmere, on occasion\nof celebrating the acceptance of the teaching of Sh\u00e2kjamuni as the\nreligion of his dominion, it is said in a legend that there were\npresent 84,000 of each order of the demigods, 100,000 priests, and\n800,000 people.\n\n9. The parrot naturally takes a prominent place in Indian fable,\nboth on account of his sagacity, his companionable nature, and his\nextraordinary length of days. He did not fail to attract much notice\non the part of the Greek writers on India; and Ktesias, who wrote\nabout 370 B.C., seems to have caught some of the peculiar Indian\nregard for his powers, when he wrote that though he ordinarily spoke\nthe Indian's language, he could talk Greek if taught it. \u00c6lianus says\nthey were esteemed by the Brahmans above all other birds, and that\nthe princes kept many of them in their gardens and houses.\n\n10. Bodhisattva. See p. 346 and note 1, Tale XI.\n\n11. Concerning the serpent-gods, see supra, note 1 to Tale II.;\nand note 4, Tale XXII.\n\n12. A legend containing curiously similar details is told in the\nMah\u00e2vansha of Shishun\u00e2ga, founder of an early dynasty of Magadha\n(Behar). The king had married his chief dancer, and afterwards sent\nher away. Partly out of distress and partly as a reproach she left\nher infant son exposed on the dunghill of the royal dwelling. A\nserpent-god, who was the tutelar genius of the place, took pity on\nthe child, and was found winding its body round the basket in which it\nwas cradled, holding its head raised over the same and spreading out\nits hood (it was the Cobra di capello species of serpent, which was\nthe object of divine honours) to protect him from the sun. The people\ndrove away the serpent-god (N\u00e2ga) with the cry of Shu! Shu! whence\nthey gave the name of Shishun\u00e2ga to the child, who, on opening the\nbasket, was found to be endowed with qualities promising his future\ngreatness. In this case, however, the serpent-god seems to have borne\nhis serpent-shape, and in that of Vikram\u00e2ditja, the eight are spoken\nof as in human form.\n\n\n\nVIKRAM\u00c2DITJA'S YOUTH.\n\n1. Nirv\u00e2na. See supra, p. 330, note, p. 334, and p. 343. The word is\nsometimes used however poetically, simply as an equivalent for death.\n\n2. K\u00fctschun Tschindaktschi = \"One provided with might.\" (J\u00fclg.)\n\n3. \"The custom of requiring women to go abroad veiled was only\nintroduced after the Mussulman invasion, and was nearly the only\nimportant circumstance in which Muhammedan influenced Indian\nmanners.\" See Lassen, Indische Alterthumskunde, iii. p. 1157. In\nMongolia, however, Abb\u00e9 Huc found that women have completely preserved\ntheir independence. \"Far from being kept down as among other Asiatic\nnations they come and go at pleasure, ride out on horseback, and\npay visits to each other from tent to tent. In place of the soft\nlanguishing physiognomy of the Chinese women, they present in their\nbearing and manners a sense of power and free will in accordance with\ntheir active life and nomad habits. Their attire augments the effect\nof their masculine haughty mien.\"\n\nIn chapter v. of vol. ii., however, he tells of a custom prevailing\nin part of Tibet of a much more objectionable nature than the use\nof a veil:--\"Nearly 200 years ago the Nome-Khan, who ruled over\nHither-Tibet, was a man of rigid manners.... To meet the libertinism\nprevailing at his day he published an edict prohibiting women from\nappearing in public otherwise than with their faces bedaubed with\na hideous black varnish.... The most extraordinary circumstance\nconnected with it is that the women are perfectly resigned to\nit.... The women who bedaub their faces most disgustingly are deemed\nthe most pious.... In country places the edict is still observed with\nexactitude, but at Lha-Ssa it is not unusual to meet women who set it\nat defiance, ... they are, however, unfavourably regarded. In other\nrespects they enjoy great liberty. Instead of vegetating prisoners\nin the depths of their houses they lead an active and laborious\nlife.... Besides household duties, they concentrate in their own\nhands all the retail trade of the country, and in rural districts\nperform most of the labours of agriculture.\"\n\n4. Schal\u00fb. In another version of the legend he is called Sakori, the\nsoothsayer, because he made these predictions. (Journal of As. Soc. of\nBengal, vi. 350, in a paper by Lieut. W. Postans.)\n\n5. The wolf-nurtured prince has a prominent place in Mongolian\nchronicles. Their dynasty was founded by B\u00fcrte-Tschinoa = the Wolf\nin winter-clothing. See I. J. Schmidt's Die V\u00f6lker Mittel-Asiens,\nvorz\u00fcglich die Mongolen und Tibeter, St. Petersburg, 1824, pp. 11-18,\n33 et seq.; 70-75; and sSanang sSetsen, 56 and 372.\n\n6. I cannot forbear reference to notices of such sudden storms and\ninundations in Mongolia made from personal experience by Abb\u00e9 Huc\n\"Travels in China and Tartary,\" chapters vi. and vii.\n\n7. The persistent removal of the child after such tender entreaties and\nsuch faithful unrequited service carries an idea of heartlessness, but\nin extenuation it should be mentioned that while the Indians honoured\nevery kind of animal by reason of their doctrine of metempsychosis,\nthe wolf was just the only beast with which they seem to have had\nno sympathy, and they reckoned the sight of one brought ill-luck, a\nprejudice probably derived from the days of their pastoral existence\nwhen their approach was fraught with so much danger to their flocks. In\nMongolia, where the pastoral mode of life still continues in vogue,\nthe dread of the wolf was not likely to have diminished. Thus Abb\u00e9\nHuc says, \"Although the want of population might seem to abandon the\ninterminable deserts of Tartary to wild beasts, wolves are rarely met,\nowing to the incessant and vindictive warfare the Mongolians wage\nagainst them. They pursue them every where to the death, regarding\nthem as their capital enemy on account of the great damage they may\ninflict upon their flocks. The announcement that a wolf has been\nseen is a signal for every one to mount his horse ... the wolf in\nvain attempts to flee in every direction; it meets horsemen from\nevery side. There is no mountain so rugged that the Tartar horses,\nagile as goats, cannot pursue it. The horseman who has caught it\nwith his lasso gallops off, dragging it behind, to the nearest tent;\nthere they strongly bind its muzzle, so that they may torture it\nsecurely, and by way of finale skin it alive. In summer the wretched\nbrute will live in this condition several days; in winter it soon\ndies frozen.\" The wolf seems fully to return the antipathy, for\n(chapter xi.) he says, \"It is remarkable wolves in Mongolia attack\nmen rather than animals. They may be seen sometimes passing at full\ngallop through a flock of sheep in order to attack the shepherd.\"\n\n8. Tschin-t\u00e2mani, Sanskrit, \"thought-jewel,\" a jewel having the magic\npower of supplying all the possessor wishes for. Indian fable writers\nrevel in the idea of the possession of a talisman which can satisfy\nall desire. The grandest and perhaps earliest remaining example of it\noccurs in the Ramajana, where King Visvamitra = the universal friend,\nwho from a Xatrija (warrior caste) merited to become a Brahman, visits\nVasichtha, the chief of hermits, and finds him in possession of Sabala,\na beautiful cow, which has the quality of providing Vasichtha with\nevery thing whatever he may wish for. He wants to provide a banquet\nfor Visvamitra, and he has only to tell Sabala to lay the board with\nworthy food, with food according to the six kinds of taste and drinks\nworthy of a king of the world. She immediately provides sugar, and\nhoney, and rice, maireja or nectar, and wine, besides all manner of\nother drinks and various kinds of food heaped up like mountains; sweet\nfruits, and cakes, and jars of milk; all these things Sabala showered\ndown for the use of the hosts who accompanied Visvamitra. Visvamitra\ncovets the precious cow, and offers a hundred thousand cows of earth in\nbarter for her. But Vasichtha refuses to part with her for a hundred\nmillion other cows or for fulness of silver. The king offers him\nnext all manner of ornaments of gold, fourteen thousand elephants,\ngold chariots with four white steeds and eight hundred bells to them,\neleven thousand horses of noble race, full of courage, and a million\ncows. The seer still remaining deaf to his offers the king carries\nher off by force.\n\nThe heavenly cow, however, in virtue of her extraordinary qualities,\nhelps herself out of the difficulty. It is her part to fulfil her\nmaster's wishes, and as it is his wish to have her by him she\ngallops back to him, knocking over the soldiers of the earthly\nking by hundreds in her career. Returned to her master, the Brahman\nhermit, she reproaches him tenderly for letting her be removed by the\nearthly king. He answers her with equal affection, explaining that\nthe earthly king has so much earthly strength that it is vain for\nhim to resist him. At this Sabala is fired with holy indignation. She\ndeclares it must not be said that earthly power should triumph over\nspiritual strength. She reminds him that the power of Brahma, whom\nhe represents, is unfailing in might, and begs him only to desire of\nher that she should destroy the Xatrija's host. He desires it, and\nshe forthwith furnishes a terrible army, and another, and another,\ntill Visvamitra is quite undone, all his hosts, and allies, and\nchildren killed in the fray. Then he goes into the wilderness and\nprays to Mah\u00e2deva, the great god, to come to his aid and give him\ndivine weapons, spending a hundred years standing on the tips of his\nfeet, and living on air like the serpent. Mah\u00e2deva at last brings\nhim weapons from heaven, at sight of which he is so elated that\n\"his heroic courage rises like the tide of the ocean when the moon\nis at the full.\" With these burning arrows he devastates the whole\nof the beautiful garden surrounding Vasichta's dwelling. Vasichta,\nin high indignation at this wanton cruelty, raises his vadschra,\nthe Brahma sceptre or staff, and all Visvamitra's weapons serve him\nno more. Then owning the fault he has committed in fighting against\nBrahma he goes into the wilderness and lives a life of penance a\nthousand years or two, after which he is permitted to become a Brahman.\n\n9. Those who can see one and the same hero in the Sagas of Wodin, the\nWild Huntsman, and William Tell [72], might well trace a connexion\nbetween such a legend as this and the working of the modern law of\nconscription. There is no country exposed to its action where such\nscenes as that described in the text might not be found. There have\nbeen plenty such brought under my own notice in Rome since this\n\"tribute of blood,\" as the Romans bitterly call it, was first\nestablished there last year.\n\n10. I have spoken elsewhere in these pages of the question of rebirth\nin the Buddhist system. Though not holding so cardinal a place as in\nBrahmanism the necessity for it remained to a certain extent. All\nvirtues were recommended in the one case as a means to obtaining a\nhigher degree at the next re-birth, and in the other the same, but\nless as an end, than as a means to earlier attaining to Nirv\u00e2na. Of\nall virtues the most serviceable for this purpose was the sacrifice\nof self for the good of the species.\n\n11. Sinh\u00e2sana, lit. Lion-throne; a throne resting on lions, as before\ndescribed in the text.\n\n12. At the exercise of such heaven-given powers nature was supposed\nto testify her astonishment, and thus we are told of sacrifices and\nincense offered for the pacification of the same. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n\n\nVIKRAM\u00c2DITJA ACQUIRES ANOTHER KINGDOM.\n\n1. Concerning such sacrifices, see K\u00f6ppen, i. 246 and 560, and\nTrans. of sSanang sSetzen, p. 352.\n\n\n\nVIKRAM\u00c2DITJA MAKES THE SILENT SPEAK.\n\n1. The Kalmucks make the 8th, 15th, and 30th of every month fast-days;\nthe Mongolians, the 13th, 14th, and 15th. (K\u00f6ppen, i. 564-566;\nii. 307-316, quoted by J\u00fclg.)\n\n2. Dakini. See note 2, Tale XIV., infra.\n\n3. Dakini Tegrijin Naran = the Dakini sun of the gods. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n4. Aram\u00e2l\u00e2, a string of beads used by Buddhists in their devotions.\n\n5. Abb\u00e9 Huc mentions frequently meeting with such wayside shrines,\nfurnished just as here described.\n\n6. Chatun. See note 1 to \"Vikram\u00e2ditja's Birth.\"\n\n7. This beautiful story, which does not profess to be original,\nbut a reproduction of one of the sagas of old, is to be found under\nvarious versions in many Indian collections of myths.\n\n8. Compare note 3, Tale VII.\n\n9. This story also holds a certain place among Indian legends, but\nis not so popular as the last.\n\n10. Cup. No one travels or indeed goes about at all in Tibet and\nMongolia without a wooden cup stuck in his breast or in his girdle. At\nevery visit the guest holds out his cup and the host fills it with\ntea. Abb\u00e9 Huc supplies many details concerning their use. They are\nso indispensable that they form a staple article of industry; their\nvalue varies from a few pence up to as much as 40l.\n\n11. Tai-tsing = the all-purest, the name of the Mandschu or Mantschou\ndynasty (or Mangu, according to the spelling of Lassen, iv. 742),\nwho, from being called in by the last emperor of the Ming dynasty\nto help in suppressing a rebellion, subsequently seized the throne\n(1644). This dynasty has reigned in China ever since, while the\nMantchou nationality has become actually forced on the Chinese.\n\nPreviously, however, the Mantchous were a tribe of Eastern Tartars\nlong formidable to the Chinese. The introduction of a king of the\nMantchous, therefore, as identical with Vikram\u00e2ditja, presents the\nmost remarkable instance that could be met with of what may be called\nthe confusion of heroes, in the migration of myths.\n\n12. Tsetsen Budschiktschi = the clever dancer. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n\n\nTHE WISE PARROT.\n\n1. \"At any former time,\" i. e. in a previous state of existence,\naccording to the doctrine of metempsychosis.\n\n2. \"The day will come\"--similarly on occasion of a subsequent rebirth.\n\n3. Tsoktu Ilagukssan = brilliant majesty. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n4. Naran Gerel = sunshine. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n5. Ssaran = moon. (J\u00fclg.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES\n\n\n[1] The few notes I have taken from J\u00fclg's translation, I have\nacknowledged by putting his name to them.\n\n[2] The following paragraphs are chiefly gathered and translated from\nLassen's work on the Geography of Ancient India, vol. i.\n\n[3] Heeren, Indische Literatur.\n\n[4] Lassen, Indische Alterthumskunde, ii. 67, 68.\n\n[5] Mahavansha, ii. v. 11.\n\n[6] Now called Gaya, still an important town in the province of\nBehar. Vihara, whence Behar (for B and V are allied sounds in\nSanskrit), is the Buddhist word for a college of priests, and the\nsubstitution of Behar for Magadha, the more ancient name of the\nprovince, points to a time when Buddhism flourished there and had\nmany such colleges (see Wilson in Journal of As. Soc. v. p. 124).\n\n[7] Benares.\n\n[8] Burnouf, Introd. \u00e0 l'Hist. du Buddhisme, i. 157.\n\n[9] In the far east of India and in Ceylon, where it is not indigenous,\nwe have historical evidence that it was introduced by the Buddhists;\nalso in Java. Lassen, Indische Alterthumskunde, i. 257; also p. 260,\nnote 1, where he gives the following comparative descriptions of the\ntwo species, though he also points out that in ancient descriptions\nthe characteristics of the two trees are often confused. The ficus\nindica or banian (it received the name of banyan from the Indian\nmerchants, Banjans, by whose means it was propagated), is called in\nBengal Njagr\u00f4dha and Vata (the Dutch call it \"the devil's tree\"). The\nficus religiosa is called ashvattha, and pippala. They plant the\none by the side of the other with marriage ceremonies in the belief\nthat otherwise the banian would not complete its peculiar mode of\ngrowth. Hence arises a most pleasing contrast between the elegant\nlightness of the shining foliage of the ficus religiosa and the solemn\ngrandeur of the ficus indica with its picturesque trunks, its abundant\nleafage, its spangling of golden fruits, its pendulous roots, enabling\nit to reproduce itself after the fashion of a temple with countless\naisles. It affords cool salubrious shade, a single one forming in time\na forest to itself, and sufficing to house thousands of persons. The\nleaves of both supply excellent food for elephants, and birds and\nmonkeys delight in its fruit, which, however, is not edible by man,\nnor is its wood of much use as timber. The pippala does not grow to\nnearly so great a size as the other, never attaining so many stems,\nbut nothing can be more graceful than its appearance when, overgrowing\nfrom a building or another tree; its leaves tremble like those of the\naspen (Lassen, i. 255-261, and notes). Under its overarching shade\naltars were erected and sacrifice offered up. To injure it wilfully\nwas counted a sin (an instance is mentioned in Bp. Heber's \"Journey,\"\ni. 621). A most prodigious Boddhi-tree, or rather five such growing\ntogether, still exists in Ceylon, which tradition says was transplanted\nthither with most extraordinary pomp and ceremonies at the time of the\nintroduction of Buddhism into the island. They grow upon the fourth\nterrace of an edifice built up of successive rows of terraces, forming\nthe most sacred spot in the whole island. Upon the above supposition\nthis Boddhi-grove would be something like 2000 years old. Several very\ncurious legends concerning it are given in a paper called \"Remarks\non the Ancient City of Anar\u00e2japura,\" by Captain Chapman, in Trans. of\nR. As. of Gr. Br. i. and iii. The Brahmans honoured it as well as the\nBuddhists, and made it a parable of the universe, its stem typifying\nthe connexion of the visible world with a divine invisible spirit,\nand the up and-down growth of the branches and roots the restless\nstriving of all creatures after an unattainable perfection; but it was\nthe Buddhists for whom it became in the first instance actually sacred\nby reason of the conviction said to have been received by Sh\u00e2kjamuni\nwhile observing its growth (reminding forcibly of the tradition about\nSir I. Newton and the apple), that the perpetual struggles of this\nchangeful life could only find ultimate satisfaction in that reunion\nwith the source whence they emanated, which he termed Nirv\u00e2na.\n\n[10] Burnouf, i. 295.\n\n[11] Burnouf, p. 194.\n\n[12] Nirv\u00e2na means literally in Sanskrit \"the breathing out,\"\n\"extinction\"--extinction of the flame of life, eternal happiness,\nunited with the Deity. B\u00f6htlingk and Roth's Sanskrit Dictionary,\niv. 208. In Buddhist writings, however, it is difficult to make out\nany idea of it distinct from annihilation. Consult Schmidt's Trans. of\nsSanang sSetzen, pp. 307-331; Schott. Buddhaismus, p. 10 and 127;\nK\u00f6ppen, i. 304-309. \"Existence in the eye of Buddhism is nothing but\nmisery.... Nothing remained to be devised as deliverance from this\nevil but the destruction of existence. This is what Buddhists call\nNirwana.\" (Alwis' Lectures on Buddhism, p. 29.)\n\n[13] Concerning the locality of the Malla people, see Lassen, Indische\nAlterthumskunde, i. 549.\n\n[14] This word is a favourite with Buddhist writers, and means\nliterally \"him of the rolling wheel,\" primarily used to denote a\nconqueror riding on his chariot. See Lassen, Indische Alterthumskunde,\ni. 810, n. 2.\n\n[15] Lassen, ii. 52, n. 1, and 74, n. 6; and i. 356, n. 1.\n\n[16] Professor Wilson seems to have been so much perplexed by these\ndivergencies of chronology, that in a paper by him, published in\nJourn. of R. As. Soc. vol. xvi. art. 13, he endeavours to show on this\n(and also on other grounds) that it is possible no such person ever\nexisted at all!\n\n[17] See Burnouf, p. 348, n. 3; see also infra, n. 3 to \"The False\nFriend;\" also note 2 to \"Vikram\u00e2ditja's Birth.\"\n\n[18] Supra, Notice of Vikram\u00e2ditja, pp. 238, 239.\n\n[19] \"Only about a hundred years elapsed between the visit of\nFa-Hian to India and that of Soung-yun, and in the interval\nthe absurd traditions respecting S\u00e2kya-Muni's life and actions\nwould appear to have been infinitely multiplied, enlarged,\nand distorted.\" (Lieut.-Col. Sykes' Notes on the Religious,\nMoral, and Political State of Ancient India, in Journ. of\nR. As. Soc. No. xii. p. 280.)\n\n[20] Turnour, in Journ. of As. Soc. of Bengal, 722.\n\n[21] Lassen, ii. 440.\n\n[22] Lassen, ii. 453, 454.\n\n[23] Burnouf, Introd. a l'Hist. du Buddh. i. 137.\n\n[24] Burnouf, Introd. &c. i. 131 et seq.\n\n[25] \"There is no reference even in the earlier V\u00eada to the Trimurti:\nto Donga, Kali, or Rama.\" (Wilson, Rig-V\u00eada Sanh\u00eeta.)\n\n[26] Burnouf, i. 90, 108.\n\n[27] Lassen, ii. 426, 454, 455 and other places.\n\n[28] \"No hostile feeling against the Brahmans finds utterance in the\nBuddhist Canon.\" (Max M\u00fcller, Anc. Sanskr. Literature.)\n\n[29] Lassen, iv. 644, 710.\n\n[30] Lassen, ii. 440.\n\n[31] Lassen, iv. 646-709.\n\n[32] As. Rec. i. 285.\n\n[33] Genesis iii. 15.\n\n[34] Rig-V\u00eada, bk. x. ch. xi.\n\n[35] Burnouf, Introd. i. 618.\n\n[36] See infra, Note 8 of this \"Dedication;\" on the word \"Bede,\"\np. 346.\n\n[37] Verit\u00e0 della Religione Cristiana-Cattolica sistematicamente\ndimostrata, da Monsignor Francesco Nardi U. di S. Rota. Roma, 1868.\n\n[38] Lassen, ii. 1107.\n\n[39] Lassen, i. 488.\n\n[40] A great number of early authorities are quoted in Butler's\n\"Lives,\" vol. xii., pp. 329-334. The subject has also been handled\nby Gieseler, Lehrbuch der Kirchengeschichte; Wilson's \"Sketch of\nthe Religious Sects of the Hindus;\" Swainson's \"Memoir of the Syrian\nChristians;\" most ably by A. Weber, and by many others.\n\n[41] In note 2 of p. 182, vol. iv., Lassen quotes several authors on\nthe meaning of the word and its identity with the triratna, as Wilson\ncalls the Buddhist Trinity of Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha. See also\ninfra, n. 1, Tale XVII.\n\n[42] At the same time it presents also, of course, many frightful\ndivergencies, and of these it may suffice to mention that the\nnumber of wives ascribed to Crishna is not less than 16,000. Lassen,\nvol. i. Appendix p. xxix.\n\n[43] Indische Studien, i. 400-421, and ii. 168.\n\n[44] The very earliest, however, do not go very far back; he was never\nheard of at all till within 200 B.C., and seems then to have been set\nup by certain Brahmans to attract popular worship, and to counteract\nthe at that period rapidly-spreading influence of the Buddhists. See\nLassen, i. 831--839. See also note 1, p. 335, supra.\n\n[45] Lassen, iv. 575.\n\n[46] Lassen, p. 576.\n\n[47] \"On trouvera plus tard que l'extension consid\u00e9rable qu'a prise\nle culte du Krishna n'a \u00e9t\u00e9 qu'une r\u00e9action populaire contre celui\ndu Buddha; r\u00e9action qui a \u00e9t\u00e9 dirig\u00e9e, ou pleinement accept\u00e9e par\nles Brahmanes.\" Burnouf, Introd. i. p. 136, n. 1.\n\n[48] Lassen, iv. 815-817.\n\n[49] Lassen, iv. 576.\n\n[50] The best account of his life and teaching is given by\nS. Wassiljew, of St. Petersburg, \"Der Buddhismus; aus dem Russischen\n\u00fcbersetzt,\" to which I have not had access.\n\n[51] See supra, p. 332.\n\n[52] See infra, Note 1, Tale XI.\n\n[53] See supra, p. 330.\n\n[54] Concerning Serpent-worship see infra, Note 1, Tale II.\n\n[55] Travelling Buddhist teacher. Lassen.\n\n[56] Burnouf, Introduction \u00e0 l'Histoire du Buddhisme, ii. 359.\n\n[57] \"Southward in Bede.\" See Note 8.\n\n[58] Spence Hardy, \"Legends and Theories of the Buddhists,\" p. 243,\nwhen mentioning this circumstance, makes the strange mistake of\nconfounding Behar with Berar.\n\n[59] See Note 4, \"Vikram\u00e2ditja's Throne discovered.\"\n\n[60] See supra, p. 241.\n\n[61] According to Abb\u00e9 Huc's spelling, Tchen-kis Khan.\n\n[62] According to Abb\u00e9 Huc's spelling, Tale Lama.\n\n[63] See the story in Note 8 to \"Vikram\u00e2ditja's Youth.\"\n\n[64] See Note 4 to \"Vikram\u00e2ditja's Throne discovered.\"\n\n[65] Consult C. F. K\u00f6ppen, Die Lamaische Hierarchie.\n\n[66] According to Huc's version of his history he was not born in\na Lamasery, but in the hut of a herdsman of Eastern Tibet, in the\ncounty of Amdo, south of the Kouku-Noor.\n\n[67] This elaborate derivation, however, has been disputed, and\nit is more probable the name is derived from two words, signifying\n\"the Indian ox.\" In Tibet it has no name but \"great ox.\"\n\n[68] Virgil, Georg. ii. 121, \"Velleraque ut foliis depectant\ntenuia Seres;\" and Pliny, H. N. vi. 20, 2, \"Seres, lanicio silvarum\nnobiles, perfusam aqua depectentes frondium canitiem.\" Also 24, 8;\nand xi. 26, 1.\n\n[69] See infra, note 2 to \"Vikram\u00e2ditja's Birth.\"\n\n[70] Burnouf, i. 265.\n\n[71] See supra, p. 351 and p. 385.\n\n[72] See Max M\u00fcller's \"Chips from a German Workshop.\"","title":"Sagas from the Far East; or, Kalmouk and Mongolian Traditionary Tales","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":113541}