{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_58816/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_58816","id":"gutenberg_58816","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/58816","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Folklore -- India","Tales -- India"],"text":"Produced by Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net/ for Project\nGutenberg (This file was produced from images generously\nmade available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                          SIMLA VILLAGE TALES\n                        OR, FOLK TALES FROM THE\n                               HIMALAYAS\n\n\n                       BY ALICE ELIZABETH DRACOTT\n\n\n                                 LONDON\n                   JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.\n                                  1906\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                        TO THE ONE I LOVE BEST.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nIn introducing \"Simla Village Tales\" to my readers, I wish to\nacknowledge gratefully the valuable assistance given me by my sister\nMabel Baldwin, who, when I was obliged to leave India suddenly owing\nto nervous breakdown after the terrible earthquake which visited the\nPunjaub in April 1905, kindly undertook to complete, from the same\nsources where I had got them, my collection of folk-tales. Twenty\nexcellent stories contributed by her include \"Tabaristan,\" \"The Priest\nand the Barber,\" \"The Fourth Wife is Wisest,\" and \"Abul Hussain.\"\n\nOf the down-country tales my husband kindly contributed \"Anar Pari,\"\n\"The Dog Temple,\" \"The Beautiful Milkmaid,\" and \"The Enchanted Bird,\nMusic, and Stream.\" Both my sister and my husband can speak the\nlanguage fluently, and as the former has resided many years in the\nPunjaub, I am confident that her translations are as literal as my\nown. All the tales were taken down in pencil, just as they were told,\nand as nearly as possible in the words of the narrators, who were\nvillage women belonging to the agricultural class of Hindus in the\nSimla district.\n\nI must add a word of thanks to Mr Hallam Murray for his invaluable\nassistance with the illustrations.\n\nIn one or two instances I was asked if I would allow a Paharee man,\nwell versed in local folk-lore, to relate a few stories to me; but,\nfor obvious reasons, I was obliged to decline the offer, for many Simla\nVillage tales related to me by women, and not included in this book,\nwere grotesquely unfit for publication.\n\nThe typical Paharee woman is, as a rule, extremely good-looking,\nand a born flirt; she has a pleasant, gay manner, and can always see\na joke; people who wish to chaff her discover an adept at repartee.\n\nThe \"Simla Village Woman,\" whose photograph is reproduced, is a very\ngood type. I found her most gentle and lovable. Her little boy, and\nlast surviving child, has died since the photograph was taken last\nyear, yet the young mother bears all her griefs with a fortitude\nwhich is really remarkable.\n\nHimalayan folk-lore, with its beauty, wit, and mysticism, is a most\nfascinating study, and makes one grieve to think that the day is fast\napproaching when the honest rugged hill-folk of Northern India will\nlose their fireside tales under the influence of modern civilisation.\n\nThe hurry and rush of official life in India's Summer Capital\nleaves no time for the song of birds or scent of flowers; these,\nlike the ancient and exquisite fireside tales of its people, have\nbeen hustled away into distant valleys and remote villages, where,\non cold winter nights, Paharees, young and old, gather together to\nhear these oft-repeated tales.\n\nFrom their cradle under the shade of ancient deodars, beside the rocks,\nforests and streams of the mighty Himalayan mountains, have I sought\nthese tales to place them upon the great Bookshelf of the World.\n\n\n    A. E. D.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                                           PAGE\n\n    THE CAUSE OF A LAWSUIT BETWEEN THE OWL AND THE KITE       1\n    A MONKEY OBJECTS TO CRITICISM                             2\n    THE DEAD MAN'S RING                                       3\n    THE ORIGIN OF DEATH                                       5\n    THE REAL MOTHER                                           6\n    THE PRINCESS SOORTHE                                     12\n    THE SNAKE'S BRIDE                                        15\n    THE POWER OF FATE                                        20\n    THE OLD WITCH WHO LIVED IN A FOREST                      31\n    KULLOO, A FAITHFUL DOG                                   36\n    THE STORY OF GHOSE                                       40\n    THE VIZIER'S SON AND THE RAJAH'S SON                     46\n    THE RAJAH'S SON AND THE VIZIER'S SON                     49\n    BEY HUSLO                                                53\n    THE STORY OF PANCH MAR KHAN                              56\n    THE RABBIT AND THE BARBER                                59\n    RUPA AND BISUNTHA                                        61\n    SHEIK CHILLI                                             68\n    SHEIK CHILLI                                             70\n    THE MONKEY, THE TIGER, AND THE PRINCESS                  75\n    THE JACKAL AND THE GUANA                                 81\n    THE STORY OF THE BLACK COW                               83\n    THE BRAHMIN AND THE WILD GEESE                           88\n    THE FOUR-GIFTED PRINCESS                                 93\n    THE MAN WHO WENT TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE                     96\n    THREE WISE MEN AND THE KING'S DAUGHTER                  101\n    BARBIL'S SON                                            104\n    THE TIGER AND THE RATS                                  107\n    THE ADVENTURES OF A BIRD                                109\n    THE LEGEND OF NALDERA TEMPLE                            111\n    THE BUNNIAH'S WIFE AND THE THIEF                        113\n    WHO STOLE THE RUBY?                                     115\n    THE STORY OF VICKRAMADIT                                119\n    THE WEAVER                                              125\n    THE DOG WHO WAS A RAJAH                                 132\n    THE FOURTH WIFE IS THE WISEST                           135\n    THE STORY OF PIR SAB                                    141\n    THE ORIGIN OF A RIVER                                   145\n    THE GOLDEN SCORPIONS                                    148\n    THE STORY OF A PEARL                                    150\n    THE BUNNIAH'S GHOST                                     152\n    BICKERMANJI THE INQUISITIVE                             155\n    THE BRAHMIN'S DAUGHTER                                  163\n    ABUL HUSSAIN                                            166\n    THE MAGICIAN AND THE MERCHANT                           174\n    THE SNAKE AND THE FROG                                  180\n    THE BARBER AND THE THIEF                                184\n    THE STORY OF \"PURAN\"                                    186\n    TABARISTAN                                              194\n    THE PAINTED JACKAL                                      198\n    THE ENCHANTED BIRD, MUSIC, AND STREAM                   200\n    THE DOG TEMPLE                                          213\n    THE BEAUTIFUL MILKMAID                                  216\n    A REMEDY FOR SNAKE-BITE                                 218\n    A LEGEND OF SARDANA                                     220\n    THE STORY OF \"BUNJARA TULLAO\"                           224\n    THE ANAR PARI, OR POMEGRANATE FAIRY                     226\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE CAUSE OF A LAWSUIT BETWEEN THE OWL AND THE KITE\n\n\nThe owl and the kite once went to law on these grounds. The owl said\nthat she was the oldest creature in the world, and that when the\nworld was first made, she alone existed. The kite objected. He said\nthat he flew in the air and lived in the trees.\n\nTo prove which was right they went to law, and the owl pleaded that,\nsince there were no trees at the beginning of the world, the kite\nwas wrong in saying that he had lived in trees. The Judge therefore\ndecided in favour of the owl.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nA MONKEY OBJECTS TO CRITICISM\n\n\nA monkey once sat on a tree, shivering with cold, as rain was falling,\nand a little bird sat in its nest on the same tree; and, as it sat,\nit looked at the monkey and wondered why a creature with hands and\nfeet like a man should shiver in the cold, while a small bird rested\nin comfort.\n\nAt last it expressed its thought to the monkey, who replied: \"I have\nnot strength to build myself a house, but I have strength to destroy\nyours,\" and with that he pulled to pieces the poor little bird's nest,\nand turned it out with its young.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE DEAD MAN'S RING\n\n\nA young married woman one night listened to the jackals' cry, and heard\nthem say: \"Near the river lies a dead man; go and look on his finger\nand you will find a ring worth nine lakhs of rupees.\" She therefore\nrose and went to the riverside, not knowing that her husband secretly\nfollowed in her footsteps. Arrived there, she found the dead man, but\nthe ring was difficult to remove, so she drew it off with her teeth.\n\nHer husband, who did not know she had understood and acted upon the\ncry of the jackals, was horrified, and thought she was eating the flesh\nof the dead man; so he returned home, and when the morning came, took\nhis wife to her mother, and said: \"I have brought back your daughter,\nand refuse to live with her any longer, lest I come to some evil\nend.\" He gave no reason for having thus said, and returned to his home.\n\nIn the evening his wife sat sorrowfully in the garden of her father's\nhouse, and the crows came to roost in the peepul trees; and as they\ncame, they said: \"In this place are buried four boxes containing\nhidden treasure: dig and find it, O my daughter.\" The young girl\ncalled her parents and told them the message of the crows. At first\nthey laughed, but, after a while, they dug as she directed, and found\ntreasure which enriched the whole family. The girl then explained the\nstory of the dead man's ring, and her husband gladly forgave her and\nreceived her back.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE ORIGIN OF DEATH\n\n\nWhen God first made the world, He took two handsful of ashes and placed\nthem in a corner and hid Himself. These became a man and a woman. God\nthen called the man by name, saying: \"Manoo,\" and the man replied,\n\"Hoo\" instead of \"Ha Jee\" (Yes Life) respectfully, as he should\nhave done.\n\nFor this reason was everlasting life denied him, and where he stood,\nthere were his ashes when he died. Even to this day, if a man should\nscratch himself, a line of white ash of which he was made is seen. If\nany man addresses another as \"Jee\" it is accounted to his good.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE REAL MOTHER\n\n\nThere was once a Rajah who had seven wives; six of these were rich\nand dwelt in his Palace, but the seventh was poor, and lived apart\nin a little mud hut by herself. The Rajah had one great sorrow, and\nthat was that he had no children. One day he went out to shikar (or\nhunt) and saw an old Fakir lying fast asleep. He did not know that\nthe Fakir had been asleep for twelve years; so he pressed his hands\nand feet, and the old man awoke. Seeing the Rajah sitting beside him,\nhe thought he had been attending him for twelve years, so he said:\n\"What is your wish, my son?\" and the Rajah said: \"I have no children. I\nwant neither riches nor honour, but a son.\" Then the old Fakir gave\nhim his staff, and said: \"Go to yonder mango tree and hit it twice,\nbring away any fruit which may fall to me.\"\n\nThe first time the Rajah hit the tree only six mangoes fell, and the\nnext time only one; these he carefully carried to the old Fakir,\nwho told him to take them home, and give one each to the Ranees,\nand they would each have a son.\n\nSo the Rajah returned to his Palace, and gave them to his six Ranees,\nbut quite forgot the poor Ranee, who lived apart by herself. The six\nRanees did not believe what the old man said, so they just tasted the\nfruit and then threw it away; but when the poor Ranee heard what had\nhappened, she told her servant to go and look in the drain for any\nmangoes the others had thrown away, and bring them to her; so the\nservant brought them, and she carefully ate every one. Three months\nafterwards she sent for an old nurse, or dhai, who told her that she\nwould soon be a mother.\n\nThe Rajah was passing by when he saw the old nurse coming out of the\npoor Ranee's hut, so he made enquiries; and, when he heard the news,\nthere were great rejoicings in the Palace. This made the other six\nRanees very angry indeed, and they called the old dhai and told her\nthat if, when the child was born, she would promise to kill it, they\nwould give her a great reward. When the day came the wicked old dhai\nwho was in attendance on the Ranee, said: \"Ranee, I must blindfold\nyour eyes.\" The Ranee consented, and while thus blindfolded, became\nthe mother of six sons and one daughter.\n\nAs soon as they were born, the old dhai carried them outside and\nthrew them into a hole in a potter's field, and there left them to\ndie, while she told the Ranee that she had given birth to a piece of\niron! The poor Ranee was terribly disappointed, and so was the Rajah,\nbut they submitted to what they thought was the will of God. But the\npotter's wife found the children, and as she was childless, she carried\nthem home and looked well after them, so that they all lived and grew.\n\nThis came to the ears of the six Ranees, and they called the old dhai,\nand said: \"What is this we hear? you did not kill the children; they\nare alive and living in the house of the potter, but if you listen\nto us and go and kill them, we shall give you all the jewels that we\npossess.\" So the wicked old woman made some sweet chappatis, or hand\ncakes, and carried them to the well where the children used to play\nevery day. She found them there playing with their toy horse and toy\nparrot, cheap toys made of clay by their foster-father, the potter,\nand they were soon tempted to eat her sweets. No sooner had they done\nthis, when all seven fell down and died.\n\nThe poor potter and his wife found them thus when they came to\nsearch for them some hours later; and, although the woman wept,\nthe man at once set out in search of the old Fakir, and as soon as\nhe found him he told him what had happened. The old Fakir cut his\nfinger and drew some blood: this he gave to the potter, and said:\n\"Go quickly and sprinkle this on the children, and they will live.\"\n\nThe potter did as he was told, and the children came to life again,\nand went to live with their foster-parents as before. This also came\nto the ears of the six cruel Ranees, and they again called the old\ndhai and told her she must make another attempt to kill the children.\n\nThis time she had some difficulty in persuading them to eat her\nsweets, for they remembered what had happened before; but in the end\nshe succeeded, and left them all lying dead on the ground as before.\n\nThe poor potter was quite broken-hearted, and again sought help of\nthe old Fakir. The old Fakir said: \"Son, I cannot raise the children\nto life in the same way a second time, but bring them here to me.\"\n\nSo he brought them, and the Fakir said: \"Dig seven graves, and in\nthe centre an eighth grave for me, and bury us all.\" This the potter\ndid, and lo! after a time a mango tree sprang from the grave of each\nbrother, a beautiful rose from the grave of the sister, and a chumpa\nor very sweet-flowering tree from the grave of the old Fakir.\n\nOne day the servants of the Rajah saw these trees, and, being struck\nwith the beauty of the roses, went to gather some; but as they\nstretched out their hands to do so, the bough raised itself beyond\ntheir reach and said: \"Brothers, may I let them gather roses?\" And the\nbrothers replied: \"Ask the old Fakir.\" So they asked him, and he said:\n\"None but thy mother may gather roses of thee.\"\n\nMuch impressed by what had happened, the Rajah's servants went and told\nhim all they had heard and seen, and forthwith he set out to see the\ntrees. He too tried to gather flowers, but found he could not do so.\n\nThen he remembered the old Fakir and the seven mangoes, and sent\nat once for his six Ranees, to see if any of them could gather the\nstrange roses. Each tried in turn, and the tree said as before:\n\"Brothers, may I give roses to my mother?\" The brothers replied:\n\"Ask the old Fakir;\" but the answer was always the same: \"These are\nnot to gather roses, they are for thy mother alone.\"\n\nOn this the Rajah sent for the poor, neglected Ranee, who, as we\nknow, was the real mother; and as soon as she came, the rose branches\nspread themselves low on the ground, and she was soon covered with\nbeautiful flowers.\n\nWhen this happened the old Fakir's grave opened, and he came back to\nlife, and brought the brothers and sisters with him. He told the whole\nstory of the six Ranees' cruelty, and the old dhai's wickedness to the\nRajah, who forthwith ordered them all to be killed, and lived happily\never after in his Palace, with his seven children, and their mother,\nthe once poor, neglected Ranee.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE PRINCESS SOORTHE\n\n\nTwo sisters, the daughters of a Rajah, were betrothed to two Princes,\nthe eldest to a poor man with few followers, the youngest to a rich\nman with many followers. About eight days before their marriage,\nthe elder called the younger and said: \"Sister, we shall not be long\ntogether, let me comb your hair for you beside the well;\" but in her\nheart she was jealous of her sister Soorthe, and had it in her mind\nto kill her, for she did not wish her to marry a rich man.\n\nNow in the well were some frogs, so the elder sister said: \"Sister,\ndo you see these frogs? The name of the Rajah you are about to marry\nis Dhuddoo, or Frog, and you think that he is a man, but he is,\nin reality, a frog.\"\n\nThis so alarmed Soorthe that she wrote at once to the Rajah to say\nshe would not marry him, and he replied that he accepted her letter\nand would marry elsewhere; but he was vexed at the letter, and took\ngood care to come in a grand procession which passed beneath the\nwindows of the Princess.\n\nShe did not know it was her former lover passing by, and asked which\nman in the procession was the Rajah; thus was it explained to her who\nhe really was, and how her elder sister had deceived her, and as she\ncaught sight of him she foolishly thought he had come back for her;\nso she let herself down with ropes from her window: but only to fall\ninto the hands of some thieves, who took her away, and left her in\nthe forest, where she was found by a Dhobie, or washerman, who sold\nher to a dancing girl.\n\nThis woman taught Soorthe to dance; and, hearing that a Rajah in the\nvicinity was entertaining a guest, and giving a feast and a nautch, the\ntwo set out. This Rajah was entertaining Soorthe's father, although\nshe did not know of it, and when he recognised his own daughter,\nwho had been brought up in strict purdah, dancing in public, like a\ncommon dancing girl, his wrath knew no bounds.\n\nHe ordered her nose to be cut off forthwith, and had her turned out of\nthe kingdom. Thus do the innocent sometimes fall victims to the deceit\nof others, and thus do they follow in the footsteps of evil associates.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE SNAKE'S BRIDE\n\n\nThere was once a Rajah, by name Bunsi Lall, who was charmed by a witch,\nturned into a snake, and lived under ground, but he constantly wished\nto go above ground and see the world.\n\nSo one day he ran away and made himself a house above ground. Now, at\nthis time there was a girl living in that place who had a very cruel\nstepmother, and this woman made her spend the whole day picking up\nsticks in the forest. It was there the snake met her, and was struck\nwith her beauty, and one day he said to her: \"Sukkia, child of Dukhia\n(or the one who gives you pain), will you marry me?\" But the girl\nwas afraid, for who would marry a snake?\n\nShe did not know that the snake was Rajah Bunsi Lall, and that he\nwas only a snake by day, but resumed his human form at night, so\nshe went and told her stepmother all about it; and her stepmother,\nwho did not care what became of the girl, said: \"Tell him you will\nmarry him if he fills your house with silver.\" This the girl told him,\nand he readily agreed.\n\nNext day, when her stepmother opened the door, she found her house\nfilled with silver, and readily gave her consent to the marriage;\nso Sukkia became the snake's bride, and went to live in his house,\nwhere all was comfort and happiness for her.\n\nAfter some time her stepmother thought she would go and find out\nwhether the girl was still living; and when she arrived at the snake's\nhouse, she found that, contrary to her expectations, Sukkia was both\nhappy and prosperous.\n\nNow the stepmother knew the story of the enchantment of Rajah Bunsi\nLall, and also that, if he revealed his name, he would be obliged to\nreturn again to his former home under ground; and she advised Sukkia\nto beg him to tell his name, and not to rest day or night until he\nhad done so.\n\nWhen night came, Sukkia asked her husband to tell her his name;\nbut he implored her not to, as it would bring bad luck to her,\nyet she persisted in asking, and would not be advised, though he\nturned himself into a snake and fled before her till he reached the\nriver-side, where he again begged her to desist; but the foolish girl\nwould not listen, till he called out: \"My name is Rajah Bunsi Lall;\"\nand so saying he disappeared under the water, and she saw him no more.\n\nFor days and days she wandered the streets and bazaars calling,\n\"Rajah Bunsi Lall, Rajah Bunsi Lall!\" but he came not, and she was\nvery unhappy. In the meantime the snake had reached his own country,\nwhere arrangements were being made to marry him to another girl; and\nwhen his servants came to draw water from the well, they met Sukkia\nand told her of it.\n\nNow Sukkia still wore the ring which Rajah Bunsi Lall had given her,\nand she begged them to take it to him, which they did; and when\nhis eyes fell upon it he remembered Sukkia, and all she must have\nsuffered because of him, so he went back to the world determined to\nseek and find her, and then bring her to his own country. Sukkia was\ndelighted to meet him again. and gladly followed him; but the snake's\nmother soon discovered her, and made up her mind to kill her without\ndelay, so she had a room prepared full of scorpions and snakes, and\nall sorts of deadly creeping things, and invited Sukkia to sleep there.\n\nThis plot was discovered in time by Rajah Bunsi Lall; and he had\nthe creatures all removed and the room swept clean and whitewashed,\nthus Sukkia escaped; but only for a time, for the snake's mother\ntold her she was clever, indeed so clever that a test would be given\nher to prove her cleverness, and if she failed to give proof of it,\nshe would be put to death.\n\nThe snake's mother then brought a quantity of mustard seed and strewed\nit on the floor beside Sukkia, telling her to divide it into equal\nlots and carefully count each seed.\n\nThe poor girl began to cry, for she felt this task to be beyond her\npower, and the snake said all the trouble had been caused through\nasking his name, but he knew some little birds, who came when he\ncalled them by name, and they very soon divided the mustard seed,\nso once again Sukkia escaped.\n\nThe next time she went out, it was to follow very miserably in\nthe wedding procession of the snake; and his mother had arranged\nthat Sukkia should have torches to carry on her head and in her two\nhands, so that, when the wind blew towards her, she would be burnt\nto death. All happened as arranged, but when Sukkia cried out, \"I am\nburning, I am burning!\" Rajah Bunsi Lall heard her and quickly ran\nto her rescue. Together they ran away and escaped to the upper world,\nand found their former home, where they lived happily ever after.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE POWER OF FATE\n\n\nThere was once a Rajah who had six daughters, none of whom were\nmarried, although all were grown up.\n\nOne day he called them to him, and asked each in turn whether she was\nsatisfied with her lot in life and what fate had given to her. Five\nof the daughters replied: \"Father, our fate is in your hands: you\nfeed and clothe us, and all that is to be provided for our future\nyou will provide: we are well satisfied with our lot in life.\" The\nyoungest daughter alone kept silent, and this vexed her father,\nwho enquired why she made no reply.\n\n\"My fate is in no one's hands,\" she said; \"and whatever is to be,\nwill be, whether so willed by my father or not.\"\n\nThe Rajah was now angrier than before, and ordered that she should\nbe immediately put to death; but upon second thoughts he decided to\nsend her to a distant forest, and there leave her without food or\nwater, so that she might either be eaten by wild beasts at night,\nor else die of starvation.\n\nSo she was placed in a dooly or litter and carried away. The\ndooly-bearers took her to a very dense jungle, and at length arrived\nat a clear space, in the centre of which stood a huge oak tree. Here\nthey determined to leave her, so they tied the dooly to the boughs\nof the tree, where it could swing above ground, and departed.\n\nNow the Princess was very religious, so she spent her time in reading,\nand said her prayers five times a day, believing that if it were her\nfate to die she would die, but if not, some help would be sent to her.\n\nIn this way day after day passed by without any relief, and the poor\nPrincess was both hungry and cold, yet she continued to pray each day,\nuntil, on the morning of the ninth day, Mahadeo (or God), who had\nheard her unceasing prayers, called one of his messengers and said:\n\"Some one on the earth is in great pain and sorrow, and her prayers\nare ever knocking at my door; go thou to seek who it is, and bring\nme word.\"\n\nSo the messenger went forth, and found the poor Princess in her\ndooly on the tree, so he quickly brought back the news to Mahadeo,\nwho sent him back with food and water to her relief.\n\nAfter she had eaten and drunk, she washed the brass vessels in which\nher food had come, and continued to pray and give thanks to God. Now\neach day fresh food and water was sent to her, and for her faith and\ngoodness, Mahadeo determined to give her a reward.\n\nLooking out of her dooly one day, she noticed that the earth looked wet\nin a certain spot, so she dug there with her nails, and found water;\nnot only did she find water, but stones, which were all of solid\ngold and silver. \"My fate has indeed been good,\" said the Princess,\nand she forthwith determined to build herself a Palace on that spot,\nand to surround it with a beautiful garden.\n\nNext day she heard a woodman felling trees in the forest, and called\nloudly to him. The man was afraid, for it was a lonesome spot, where\nhe had never before heard the sound of a human voice, and he thought\nshe must be a spirit; but the Princess assured him that she too was\nhuman, and a King's daughter, who had been banished, and promised\nthat if he would only bring her wood to build with, and workmen to\nmake her house, she would pay him in gold daily.\n\nPleased at his luck, the woodman lost no time in calling carpenters\nand masons, and before long a lovely Palace and garden were made in\nthe once jungly spot, and here the Princess with her servants lived\na very happy life together.\n\nOne day the King, her father, riding by that way, was greatly surprised\nwhen he saw what a beautiful house and garden had been made in the\nmidst of the jungle. He sent his servants to enquire whose it was,\nand to bring word quickly concerning it.\n\nThe Princess saw her father's servants, and ordered that they should\nbe kindly treated, and fed on the best of food; so they returned\nwell pleased, to tell the King that it was his long-lost daughter,\nwhom he had thought was dead, that owned the Palace, and she had sent\na message to ask him to come and see her.\n\nThe Rajah was indeed surprised, and hastened to find out for himself\nwhether or not the news were true. When the Princess met him she\nreminded him of what she had said about fate, and her belief that\nwhat was to be, would be in spite of all efforts to prevent it,\nso that the Rajah also was convinced that she was right.\n\nAfter this her sisters came to visit her, and she gave them many\nbeautiful and costly presents. Not long afterwards the Rajah made\nup his mind to travel, and asked each of his five children what they\nwould like him to bring her on his return. They all wanted something\ndifferent, and he had almost forgotten to ask his youngest daughter\nwhat she wanted, as she already had all that heart could wish, but\nhe felt ashamed to leave her out, so he asked her also.\n\n\"I have all that I need, O my father, but if, in your travels, you\ncome to a certain city where there is a little box for sale, bring\nit to me.\"\n\nThe Rajah soon bought his five daughters their presents, all but the\nlittle box, so when he arrived at the city his youngest daughter had\nmentioned, he began to enquire if there was a little box for sale.\n\nNow it was well known in that place that a certain bunniah had in\nhis safe keeping a magic box which contained a fan, and the soul of\na king's son. If any one waved the fan forwards, the Prince would at\nonce appear, but waved backwards he would at once disappear.\n\nWhen the people heard a Rajah asking for a box, they thought that it\nwas this magic box he meant, so they directed him to the bunniah,\nwho said he might have it for five hundred rupees. This seemed a\nlarge sum to pay for so small, and, as it appeared to him, common a\nthing, yet, rather than return without it, the Rajah paid the price\nand returned to his own country. His five daughters were delighted\nwith their gifts, and he sent the box to the youngest Princess.\n\nShe soon opened it, took out the fan, and began to wave it. No sooner\nhad she done so when a fine handsome Prince stood in her presence; but,\nwhen she waved in the opposite direction from herself, he disappeared.\n\nEvery morning the Princess summoned the Prince with her fan, and during\nthe day they spent many pleasant hours together playing Pacheesee,\nor Oriental Chess: in the evening she sent him away. The two were\nalways happy together, and never weary of each other's presence,\nwhich, I am told, is a sign of the truest friendship.\n\nThe five sisters soon came to show their youngest sister their\npresents; and laughed when they saw a simple little box, asking what\nmade her choose such a plain common thing.\n\nUpon this the foolish girl told them the whole secret of the box,\nand taking out the magic fan, waved it in their presence, and the\nPrince arrived as before.\n\nThis made the five elder sisters very angry and jealous; and while\nthey sat together playing chess, they planned mischief in their hearts;\nso that evening they got some glass, and pounded it into little bits,\nand this they spread upon the couch on which the Prince was wont to\ntake his midday rest. Next day, when he came, the bits of glass hurt\nthe poor Prince cruelly; but, being a guest, he made no remark, and\nin the evening departed to his home, where, before long, he became\nvery ill indeed.\n\nThe King, his father, summoned all the cleverest Hakeems, or native\nphysicians, to his son's bedside; but they could do nothing, and day\nby day the poor Prince lay at the point of death. In vain the Princess\nwaved her fan; he was too ill to respond, and the five cruel sisters\nrejoiced to think their plan had succeeded so well.\n\nAt last the youngest Princess could bear her suspense no longer;\nso, calling her servants together, she told them she was going by\nherself to a distant country on a pilgrimage, dressed like a Fakir,\nand none must follow her.\n\nAt first her servants would not consent, and declared they would\nfollow wherever she went, but after a time the Princess had her way,\nand set out on her journey.\n\nShe wandered many miles that day, and at evening, weary and footsore,\nsat down under a tree to rest. While she sat there an eagle and a\nparrot began to talk in a neighbouring branch. \"What news?\" began\nthe parrot.\n\n\"Have you not heard of the magic box, and the Princess, and how her\nsisters placed broken glass on the couch of the Prince, and how even\nnow he lies at the point of death?\"\n\n\"This is indeed sad news; and is there no remedy for his illness?\"\n\n\"The remedy is simple, if they but knew it. You have only to gather\nthe refuse from an eagle's nest, add water to it, and apply it to\nthe hurt, when, after three applications, the glass will come away,\nand the flesh speedily heal.\"\n\nThis conversation was eagerly listened to by the Princess; and\nafterwards she carefully gathered the refuse beside the eagle's nest,\nand again started with all haste on her journey.\n\nArrived at the town, she began to cry in the streets, \"A Hakeem, a\nHakeem!\" (or doctor), and was instantly summoned to the King's Palace;\nfor he had promised even to give up his kingdom to any one who would\nsave his son. So the Princess in this disguise hastened into the King's\npresence, and there arranged to treat the Prince, on condition that\nno other remedy should be tried by others at the same time.\n\nAt the first application of her remedy small pieces of glass were seen\nto drop out, at the second, still more, and, at the last, all fell out,\nand not one was left! This gave the Prince such relief that he opened\nhis eyes and regained consciousness, but did not recognise in the new\nHakeem, dressed as a Fakir, his former friend, the Princess. At last\nhe got well, and was able to leave his room, so the Princess went to\nthe Rajah, and begged permission to return to her own country.\n\n\"Return to your country when I can give you land and riches and\nhonour here! Why need you do that? Ask me for anything, O wise Hakeem,\neven for my throne and my kingdom, and you shall have it.\"\n\n\"I desire nothing, O King,\" returned the poor Hakeem, \"but would\ncrave of you a few tokens in remembrance of your son. A handkerchief,\nhis sword, a ring from his finger, and his bow and arrows.\"\n\n\"These gifts are too small a return for all you have done. You shall\nhave them, and much more, if you will.\"\n\nBut the Hakeem refused, and, returning to her home with the tokens\nshe had asked for, once more resumed the dress of a Princess, and,\ntaking out her fan, began to wave it. Immediately the Prince stood\nin her presence, but she feigned anger with him.\n\n\"All these many days I have waved my fan, and you have not come! Why\nhave you come to-day, O Prince?\"\n\nThen the Prince told her of all that had happened, of her sisters'\ncruelty, of his dangerous illness, and of the wonderful Hakeem who had\nsaved his life, and to whom he should ever be grateful. The Princess\nwas glad indeed to hear all this from his own lips, and, bringing out\neach gift, laid it before his astonished eyes, while she confessed\nthat it was she herself who had tended him in his illness. The Prince\nwas overcome with joy and gratitude, and asked her to become his wife;\nso they were married amid great feastings and rejoicings, and lived\nhappily ever after. Such is the power of fate.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE OLD WITCH WHO LIVED IN A FOREST\n\n\nThere was once a Brahmin who had five daughters, and after their\nmother died, he married another woman who was very unkind to them,\nand treated them cruelly, and starved them. So stingy was she that,\nupon one occasion, she took a grain of linseed, divided it into five\npieces, and gave a piece to each child.\n\n\"Are you satisfied, sister?\" they asked one another, and each replied:\n\"I am satisfied,\" except the youngest, who said: \"I am hungry\nstill.\" Then the eldest, who had still a morsel of the linseed in\nher mouth, took it and gave it to her little sister.\n\nSoon after their stepmother said to her husband: \"These children must\nbe sent away, or else I will go.\"\n\nHe did his best to dissuade her, but she insisted; so, taking the\nfive girls, he went with them to the river, where he suggested they\nshould all cross over to the other side. \"Father, you go first,\nand we will follow you.\"\n\n\"No, my children, you go first, and I will follow; but, if you should\nsee this umbrella which I carry floating upon the water, you will\nknow that I am drowned and cannot come.\"\n\nSo the children crossed over, and waited for him; but soon, to their\ngrief, they saw the umbrella floating down the stream, and then they\nknew that their father had been drowned.\n\nAfter this they wandered about for many days, and passed through\nmany cities. At last they came to a house in the woods, where a woman\nwas sitting. She seemed very pleased to meet them, and invited them\nindoors; they went in, little knowing that she was a witch, and meant\nevil. Next day she told them to go and fetch wood, but kept back the\neldest to sweep the house, and to keep her company.\n\nIn the evening when the other sisters returned, they found their\neldest sister was missing; and the witch, who did not wish them to\nknow that she had eaten the child, told them that she had run back\nto her parents. The next day she did the same thing, and detained\nthe second sister, and so on until only the youngest was left.\n\nAt last the old witch told her to stay at home that day to sweep\nthe house, and look after it while she went out. The child swept\nthe room, and then, out of curiosity, opened a box which stood in\nthe corner, and, to her horror, she saw inside it the four heads of\nher sisters! They were all smiling, and she said: \"Why do you smile,\nO my sisters?\"\n\n\"Because you will also come here to-day,\" they replied. The poor\nchild was much alarmed, and asked what she could do to escape.\n\n\"Take all the things in this room, and tie them in a bundle, and as you\nrun, throw them on the road. When the old witch comes to look for you,\nshe will see the things, and, while she is picking them up, you will\nhave time to escape.\" The child quickly did as the heads told her,\ntied the bundle, and ran away.\n\nThere was only a broom left in the room, and when the old witch\nreturned she mounted upon it, and flew through the air in hot\npursuit. As she went along she found her things strewn on the road,\nand began picking them up one after another. This gave the child time\nto run further and further away, until, at last, she came to a peepul\ntree, and said: \"O tree, shelter me!\" and the tree opened, and she was\nhidden within it, all but her little finger, which remained outside,\nas the tree closed. This the old witch saw and promptly bit off:\nwhile she ate it, she regretted more than once that such a dainty\nmorsel had escaped, but she knew there was no getting out the child;\nso she went away disappointed.\n\nNow, soon after, a man came to cut down the tree, but the child cried\nfrom inside: \"Cut above, and cut below, but do not touch the middle,\nor you will cut me in half.\"\n\nThe voice so amazed the man that he went and told the Rajah about it;\nand forthwith the Rajah came with all his retinue, and heard the same\nthing; so they did as the voice advised, and, after carefully opening\nthe tree, found the child, a beautiful young girl, who sat with her\nhands folded within.\n\n\"Girl,\" said the Rajah, \"will you walk up to anybody here present to\nwhose caste you belong?\"\n\nThe girl came out and walked up to a Brahmin: this decided the\nquestion of her birth, and that she was fitted to become the wife of\na Prince. So the Rajah had her taken to his Palace, where they were\nafterwards married with great pomp, and lived happily ever after.\n\n\n\nNote.--It may interest my readers to know that the little native girl\nstanding beside the peepul tree in my sketch is still living. She came\nto us during one of the great Indian famines, and we almost despaired\nof her life, for although seven years old at that time, she was a\nliving skeleton, her calf measurement being exactly three-and-a-half\ninches, or half of my wrist! She is now a fine healthy child, and\nvery devoted.--A.E.D.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nKULLOO, A FAITHFUL DOG\n\n\nA certain Bunniah or merchant married a woman of his own caste, and\nset out to a distant city. On the way he fell ill with a headache,\nso she sat by the wayside and pressed his head. While doing so a man\npassed by, and asked for a little fire to light his cheelum for a\nsmoke, but she replied: \"I cannot leave my husband, for I am holding\nhis head while he sleeps.\"\n\n\"Put some clothes under his head, and he will sleep,\" advised the\nstranger. This she did, but, while giving the fire to the man, he\nseized her, and, placing her upon his horse, rode away. When the\nBunniah awoke, it was to find himself all alone but for his faithful\ndog Kulloo.\n\n\"Master,\" said Kulloo, \"let us become Fakirs, and beg from door to\ndoor.\" So they set out to beg, and one day came to the house of the\nrobber who had stolen the Bunniah's wife; and she, not recognising\nher husband or his dog, gave them money and food. But the dog knew\nher, and that evening he spoke to his master, and asked him if he\ntoo had seen his wife. The Bunniah had not; and, guided by Kulloo,\nhe set out to find her.\n\nWhen they arrived at the robber's house, and made themselves known,\nthe woman was greatly vexed, for the robber was rich, and gave her a\nvery comfortable home; but she pretended to be friendly and invited\nher husband to dine there that night, telling him that, afterwards,\nwhen he had the chance, he could kill the robber.\n\nWhen the Bunniah had gone, she and the robber arranged a trap for\nhim. It was a hole in the floor, very large and deep, with spikes\nfixed in the sides of it, so that anybody who fell in might die. Over\nthe hole they set a large brass thalee or plate, so that, while the\nBunniah leaned heavily upon it to eat his food, both it and he would\nfall into the hole.\n\nAll happened as they anticipated; and when the poor Bunniah found\nhimself in a deep hole, full of spikes, he thought his last hour had\ncome. But faithful Kulloo came to his rescue, and, taking out the\nspikes with his teeth, soon set his master free.\n\nThe Bunniah then lost no time in seeking the robber, and found him\nlying fast asleep; so he killed him, and cut off his head, then,\ntaking his wife with him, left the place.\n\nKulloo followed closely, and licked up each drop of blood which fell\nfrom the robber's head, lest it might leave a trace of the deed,\nand get his master into trouble. He was a wise dog, and knew the\nwoman was wicked, so she hated him, and made up her mind that she\nwould neither eat nor drink until he was dead.\n\nThe Bunniah enquired why she would not touch any food, and she told him\nshe would only do so if he killed Kulloo. This the man refused to do;\nbut, after a while, he consented. Poor Kulloo, when he knew his last\nhour had come, besought his master to bury him carefully, and to see\nthat his head, which the Bunniah meant to cut off, was buried with him,\nfor a time was yet to come when he would again save his master's life.\n\nAfter Kulloo was dead and buried the wicked woman was happy, and ate\nand drank as before; but, after a few days, she went and gave notice\nat the Court that the Bunniah was a cruel robber, who had killed\nher husband, and stolen her away. The police seized him, and he was\ntaken up for murder; but, just as the Judge was about to pronounce\nthe sentence of death upon him, he remembered faithful Kulloo; and\nat the same moment the dog appeared!\n\nAll were surprised when he stood before the Judge, and asked leave\nto speak. He then told the whole story of the robber and the wicked\nwoman; and thus, for a second time, saved his master's life, but,\nhaving said his say, poor Kulloo disappeared and was never seen again.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF GHOSE\n\n\nThere was once a Ranee who had no children, so she made a great pet\nof a young squirrel, and fed it day after day. One day it entered\nher head to deceive the Rajah, so she told him that, before the end\nof the year, an heir would be born in the Palace.\n\nOn the appointed day she sent her own nurse (whom she had bribed) to\ntell the Rajah that the child was born, and was a daughter. The old\nBrahmin of the Palace hastened to see the young Princess, who was,\nin reality, no child, but the tame squirrel; so the Ranee persuaded\nhim to go and tell the Rajah that he was now the father of a most\nlovely daughter: but the stars pointed out that he must not look on her\nface for twelve years, for, if she looked at him, he would die, and,\nif he looked at her, she would die. The poor Rajah had no choice but\nto agree, and thus the Ranee kept up her deception for twelve years,\nand hid her pet squirrel from everybody.\n\nAt last, when the twelve years were over, she said one day to her\nhusband: \"Do not look upon your daughter's face till she is married,\nlest evil come upon her, but go you and make arrangements to marry\nher to a Prince of good family.\"\n\nSo they sent the old Brahmin to seek for a husband for her; and he\nwent from place to place, until he came to a city where there was a\nRajah who had seven sons, all of whom were married but the youngest,\nwhose name was Shahzadah; so the Brahmin chose him, and all was\nprepared for the marriage.\n\nThere was a great feast held, and great rejoicings daily took place\nin the Palace. When at last the dooly or litter came, for the bride\nto be carried to her home, the Ranee hid the squirrel inside it,\nand nobody guessed that there was, in reality, no bride.\n\nOn reaching his home the young bridegroom had the dooly placed at\nthe door of his zenana, according to Oriental custom, so that none\nmight see his bride enter; and great indeed was his surprise, when\nhe looked inside, to find nobody there but a squirrel.\n\nFor very shame he held his peace, and told nobody of it, but gave\norders in the Palace that he and his wife would live apart by\nthemselves; and she would be in such strict purdah, that even the\nwomen of the household would not be allowed to visit her. This gave\ngreat offence to everybody; but they put it down to his jealousy,\nowing to his wife's great beauty, and obeyed.\n\nAt last his other brother's wife rebelled, and said: \"I refuse to do\nall the household work; your wife must also take her share in it.\"\n\nShahzadah was now very sad, for he felt the time had come for his\nsecret to be discovered, and he would become the laughing-stock of\nthe whole Palace.\n\nThe squirrel, who was a great favourite of his, noticed his sadness,\nand asked him the cause of it. \"Why are you sad, O Prince?\"\n\n\"I am sad because they say you must do some of the household work;\nand how are you to do it, being only a squirrel?\"\n\n\"What is it they want me to do?\"\n\n\"To leepo or plaster the floor.\"\n\n\"Well, tell them to do their own portion of the work, and leave me\nto do mine at my leisure.\"\n\nThis was done, and at night the squirrel went and dipped her tail into\nthe limewash and plaster, and soon had the room better done than the\nother Ranees.\n\nIn the morning all the household were surprised to see the clever\nway in which Shahzadah's wife had done her work, and they said:\n\"No wonder you hide your wife, when she is so clever.\"\n\nThe next day the task was to grind some corn, and again Shahzadah's\nheart was heavy, for how could a squirrel turn a heavy stone handmill,\nand grind corn? But the squirrel said as before: \"Tell them to do\ntheir work, and to leave mine alone. I will do it when I have finished\nmy bath.\"\n\nWhen night came, she went into the room, and with her sharp little\nteeth, kutter, kutter, kutter, soon reduced the corn to powder.\n\nShahzadah was very pleased with her, and so were they all, and nothing\nmore was said until the next day, when the allotted task was to\nmake a native dish called goolgoolahs. This is done by mixing goor,\nor molasses, with flour and water, and frying it in ghee, or oil,\nlike fritters.\n\nThe poor little squirrel was indeed at her wits' end how to perform the\ntask, for how could so small an animal make so difficult a dish? She\ntried, and she tried, but failed each time in her attempts, until it\nwas nearly morning.\n\nJust then the God Mahadeo and his wife Parbatti were taking a walk\nin the dawning light of day. Parbatti saw the poor little squirrel's\nefforts, and said to Mahadeo: \"I will not rest content till you\nturn that small creature into a human being, so that she can perform\nher task.\"\n\nAt first Mahadeo refused, but, after a time, he took out a knife, and,\nmaking a cut in his finger, took the blood from it, and sprinkled it\nupon the squirrel, who forthwith turned into a most beautiful Princess.\n\nJust then, as she sat finishing her task, other members of the Royal\nFamily awoke, and came in; they were greatly amazed at her beauty,\nand led her by the hand to their own apartments.\n\nMeantime, Shahzadah, her husband, was stricken with grief, thinking his\npoor little squirrel had been burnt to death. He sought her everywhere,\nand when he could not find her, began to cry: \"O my Ghose, my Ghose,\nwhere are you?\"\n\nThe women standing there scolded him for this, and said: \"Why do you\ncall your beautiful wife a young squirrel? She is not dead, but has at\nlast been found by us, and is with the other Princesses in the Palace.\"\n\nBut Shahzadah, who knew nothing of what had happened, only wept the\nmore, for he thought they were making fun of him, so he went to his own\nroom, where he flung himself on his couch, and continued to weep. At\nlast he looked up and saw, standing beside him, a beautiful girl,\nwho said: \"Do not weep, O Prince, for I am your squirrel.\" Then she\ntold him all that had happened.\n\nThis was indeed good news, and it was not long before the grateful\nPrincess wrote to her foster-mother, who had been so good and kind\nto her when she was only a helpless little creature, and invited her\nand her father the Rajah to come on a visit. This was the first time\nthe Rajah had seen or kissed his daughter, and he was indeed pleased\nto find she was so beautiful. So there were great rejoicings in the\nPalace, and they all lived happily ever after.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE VIZIER'S SON AND THE RAJAH'S SON\n\n\nThe Vizier's and the Rajah's son were great friends, and always\ntogether. This made the Rajah very jealous, and he called an old\nwoman whom he knew, and asked her to separate the two.\n\nThis was a difficult task, as they were such fast friends, but the\nold woman was anxious to gain a reward, and said she would do it; so\nshe called the Vizier's son, and when he asked her what she required,\nremained silent. Then she called the Rajah's son, and did the same.\n\nAfter she had gone, the two questioned each other as to what she had\nsaid, and neither would believe the other when he declared she had\nsaid nothing at all; so they began to suspect one another of deceit,\nand quarrelled.\n\nThus the old woman sowed dissension in their hearts, and after a time,\ninstead of being friends, they became bitter enemies. The Rajah's\nson said he insisted on knowing what the old woman had said to the\nVizier's son, and if he would not tell it, he must be put to death\nat the hands of a sweeper, or, in India, low-caste man.\n\nThe sweeper was just about to do this cruel deed, when the Goddess\nParbatti saw him, and implored of Mahadeo, her husband, to intercede;\nso he sent a large stag to the jungle, and it stood near at hand.\n\nWhen the sweeper saw it, he killed it instead with the bow and arrows,\nand, taking out its eyes, carried them to the Rajah, and said they\nwere the eyes of the Vizier's son.\n\nThus the Prince was appeased, and again ate, drank, and was merry,\nuntil one day, walking in the garden, he saw an earthen vessel, and\nin it a lock of hair and a small lamp. This, he felt sure, had some\nsignificance, so he longed to ask the Vizier's son, who was clever,\nand would have told him all about it; but he remembered that the\nVizier's son was taken away and killed, and he himself had seen his\neyes brought back in proof of the deed.\n\nNevertheless he wept day and night, and would not be comforted, so\nthe Rajah, his father, in great distress, sent for the sweeper who\nhad been told to kill the Vizier's son, and implored him to declare\nthe truth concerning his end. Then the man confessed everything,\nand went and searched for the lad, and brought him back. The two\nboys became fast friends as before, and the Rajah's son enquired the\nmeaning of the lock of woman's hair and lamp.\n\n\"It means,\" said the Vizier's son, \"the name of a beautiful Princess\ncalled 'Princess of the Lamp,' and she lives in a distant country.\"\n\nSo they set out to seek her, and soon found the Palace in which\nshe lived, and outside a girl making a wreath of flowers for the\nPrincess. The Rajah's son begged the girl to let him make the hal or\nwreath, and, in making it, he placed a letter inside.\n\nThe Princess was very angry when she found the letter, and made the\ngirl tell her the truth; but she would not receive the Prince after\nwhat he had done, so he had to return to his own country: thus was\nhe punished for his cruelty to the Vizier's son.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE RAJAH'S SON AND THE VIZIER'S SON\n\n\nFor a second time the friendship of the Rajah's son and the Vizier's\nson caused great jealousy, so a mischief-maker was called, and he\npromised he would do all in his power to part them. Then he ordered\na dooly and followed them into the forest. At the first opportunity\nhe called to the eldest, who was the Vizier's son, and pretended to\nwhisper in his ear.\n\nThe Rajah's son at once enquired what the man had said, and would not\nbelieve that it was nothing at all, so once again in great anger he\nordered his friend to be killed.\n\nBut the Vizier's son was very clever, and soon persuaded the\nexecutioner to spare his life, for he told him the Rajah's son would\nvery soon weary of being alone, and would ask for him back; and if\nthe executioner could not bring him, he would most probably suffer\ndeath himself; thus he escaped, and went and hid himself.\n\nIn the meantime the Rajah's son chanced to walk by the riverside,\nwhere he saw a very beautiful woman sitting beside her husband. He\nadmired the woman very much, and communicated his feelings in looks,\nthough he dared not do so in words.\n\nThe woman replied by first spreading a little green plaster on the\nground, on which she placed a brass vessel, or lota, and over that\nanother or smaller lota, on the top of which was a looking-glass,\nwith ashes spread upon it.\n\nThe Rajah's son looked carefully at what she had done, but could not\ninterpret its meaning, so he bitterly regretted the death of his\nfriend, who was noted for his cleverness, and went at once to the\nexecutioner to enquire about him.\n\nThe executioner owned that he had not killed the boy, and went and\ncalled him. Then the friends went together to discover what the woman\nmeant, nor was the Vizier's son long in finding the meaning.\n\nThe green plaster meant, \"In a green spot lives Lota (the name of her\nhusband), and Gudba (or smaller vessel) is the name of the city where\nwe live; the looking-glass means in a house which has many glasses\nin it; and the ashes mean, 'May these ashes be on your head if you\nfail to discover my meaning.'\"\n\nAfter this clue, it did not take the Vizier's son long to find out\nwhere the woman lived, and he put pegs into the wall, one above the\nother, for his friend to climb up to her window.\n\nBut before the Rajah's son could reach the top, a Kotwal, or policeman,\nsaw him, and took him away to the lock-up. This was an unexpected\nturn of affairs, so the Vizier's son quickly dressed himself as a\nbeautiful woman, and asked to see his friend in the prison. He bribed\nthe jailer to let him in, and, once there, made his friend put on\nhis clothes and escape, while he remained prisoner in his stead.\n\nNext day the news went abroad that the Kotwal had locked up both the\nRajah's son and the Vizier's son in the prison, and the Rajah was\nvery angry about it, and sent at once to find out the reason.\n\nThey determined to put the matter as to who was innocent and who was\nguilty to a test; so the Kotwal had a pan of boiling oil prepared,\nand said who ever plunged his hand into it, who was innocent of crime,\nwould not be burnt.\n\nEach dipped his hand in turn, the Rajah's son, the Vizier's son, the\nwoman, and the Kotwal himself, but only the Kotwal had his hand badly\nburnt, so this ended the whole affair. The Rajah's son meantime had\ndressed himself as a woman, and taken service in the house of the\nbeautiful woman who was the wife of a Sowcar.\n\nNobody guessed who he was, until one day the Sowcar himself admired\nhim, and tried to be friends with him, thinking he was only a pretty\nservant-girl; then the Sowcar's wife gave her pretended servant-girl\na razor, and said to keep it carefully till the next time the Sowcar\ncame to see her, and then to cut off his nose.\n\nThe Rajah's son, who was tired of acting the part of a servant-girl,\nwas only too glad to do this; and the Sowcar, rather than let anybody\nknow of his disgrace in having lost his nose, left the country,\nand thus his wife gained her ends.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nBEY HUSLO\n\n\nBey Huslo was a very extravagant woman, who was always being found\nfault with by her husband, who held up as her examples other women\nwho were thrifty in their habits, and who saved money, and helped to\nmake and build up their husbands' homes.\n\nOn hearing this Bey Huslo took a pick-axe, and began digging here\nand there like a mason. Her husband asked what she was doing, and\nshe replied: \"Trying to build you a house.\"\n\nHe tried to explain that that was not literally meant, and explained\nagain the duties of a wife. \"When a good wife falls short of supplies,\nshe borrows two cuttorah's full (or small earthen vessels full)\nof flour from her neighbour, and thus saves herself the expense of\nbuying any large quantity.\"\n\nThat night Bey Huslo, who had taken this saying literally, borrowed\ntwo small earthen vessels, and, breaking them into small pieces,\nput them on the fire to cook!\n\nHer husband heard the sound as they grated against the cooking-pot,\nand asked what she was cooking that made such a noise; but he was\nvery angry indeed when she told him, and scolded her roundly.\n\nHe told her she was perfectly useless, and that, while he had to go\nabout without clothes, other women were able to spin and weave. She\nreplied that if he would only give her some wool, she could do\nthe same.\n\nThe man was delighted, and gave her some wool; so she took it to the\npond, and told the frogs and toads to weave it into cloth for her.\n\nAfter some days her husband asked her if the cloth was ready, and\nshe said: \"I gave it to the frogs and toads to weave for me, and find\nthey have not done so.\"\n\nThen her husband was very angry indeed, and said: \"Senseless one,\nhave you ever heard of frogs and toads spinning cloth? Go out of my\nhouse this moment!\" And, with that, he turned her out, and she went\nand climbed up into a peepul tree.\n\nSoon after some camels came that way, and, as they stretched out their\nnecks and ate the branches, Bey Huslo called out: \"Go away, I will\nnot go with you; I will only go when my husband comes to fetch me.\"\n\nBut as the camels had only come to eat, and not to fetch her, they\nmade no reply, and went away.\n\nAfter this a dog began to bark at her, but she said again: \"Go away,\nI will not go with you; I will only go with my husband.\"\n\nWhen night fell some thieves sat sharing their spoils under the tree,\nand Bey Huslo felt so frightened that she fell off, and dropped in\ntheir midst.\n\nThe thieves did not know what to make of it, and ran away, leaving\ntheir stolen property behind. Bey Huslo soon gathered it up and\nreturned to her husband. \"Here,\" she said, \"is more than enough for\nyou and for me. We will now live at our ease, and I will have no\nhousekeeping to do, so that you can no longer call me a worthless\nwife.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF PANCH MAR KHAN\n\n\nThere was once a weaver who had the habit of slapping his face to\nkill any flies that settled upon it; and it was rumoured that he\nkilled five at every blow, so he got the name of Panch Mar Khan,\nwhich means \"a killer of five.\"\n\nPeople did not know that this name applied to flies, but thought the\nweaver a brave, strong man, able to kill five of his enemies at a blow,\nso that he gained a reputation for bravery.\n\nOne day the Rajah of that place heard some enemies were coming in\nforce to attack his capital. All the fighting men were required to\ngo out and meet them on the morrow; so Panch Mar Khan received notice\nto be in readiness also.\n\nNow he had never touched a weapon in his life, and was horribly\nfrightened at the very idea, so he made up his mind to run away during\nthe night.\n\nHe saddled his donkey, and, taking two large millstones, set out on\nhis journey; but, as he was passing the enemy's camp, and arrived at\na hill just a little above it, the donkey began to kick and to bray,\nand the two stones rolled down the hill into the enemy's camp with\na great noise.\n\nThey thought an army was after them, and became terror-stricken, so\nthat in the darkness and panic which ensued, many of them were killed.\n\nPanch Mar Khan was greatly delighted at his good luck, and, instead\nof running away, returned to his own home.\n\nNext morning, when the soldiers came to call him out to fight the\nenemy, he very proudly asked: \"What enemy? Did I not go out at night,\nand kill hundreds of our enemies and drive the rest away?\"\n\nTrue enough, there was now no camp to be seen, and several dead men\nwere found on the spot; so Panch Mar Khan's reputation as a brave\nman spread far and wide, and he was handsomely rewarded by the Rajah.\n\nSome days after news came that a tiger was prowling about; and a brave\nman was required to go out that night and kill it. Who was so brave\nas Panch Mar Khan! So he was deputed to go, but when he heard this\nhe nearly died of fright, and made up his mind that he would run away.\n\nSo when darkness fell he crept out and caught his donkey by the ear,\nand led it to its stable, and there tied it to a post, to wait till\nhe was ready to get on its back; but when he returned with a light,\nwhat was his surprise to find it was not his donkey, but the tiger\nthat he had led by the ear and tied to a post.\n\nSuch brave conduct from a mortal to a wild beast had so amazed the\ntiger, that it was too frightened to resist, so there it remained till\nmorning, and Panch Mar Khan was thought to be the bravest man alive!\n\nNext morning he got up early, and went out into the field near his\nhouse, and there he suddenly came face to face with the fierce eyes\nand grinning teeth of a jackal. His other bravery was by mistake,\nbut this was a reality, and so frightened was he, that he fell down\nand died on the spot.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE RABBIT AND THE BARBER\n\n\nThere was a rabbit who asked a barber to shave him; in doing so the\nbarber cut off his ear. \"Take my ear,\" said the rabbit, \"and I will\ntake your razors.\"\n\nA little further on he saw an old woman pulling grass with her\nhands. \"Take this,\" he said, giving her the razor, \"and cut grass\nwith it, and I will take your cloth.\"\n\nWhen she asked him why, he replied: \"You have my razor and I have\nyour chudder.\"\n\nThen he went a little further and saw a ghee seller. \"Take my chudder\nand give me your ghee,\" said the rabbit. So saying, he left the\nchudder and walked off with the ghee.\n\nNot long after he met a woman, and told her to make him some\ngoolgoolahs, or sweets, with the ghee. As soon as they were ready he\npicked them up and ran away.\n\nA little further on was a man with a plough, a horse, and a\nbullock. \"Take these sweets,\" said the rabbit, \"and I will yoke your\nplough for you.\"\n\nBut, instead of doing this, he ran away with the horse, and soon after\nmet a marriage procession, in which the bridegroom was walking beside\nthe bride's litter or dooly. \"Get on my horse: why do you walk?\" said\nthe rabbit gaily.\n\nSo the man got on, and the rabbit ran off with the bride; but her\nhusband ran after, and advised his wife to kill the rabbit.\n\nWhen they got to a quiet place, and rested under a tree, she asked\nthe rabbit to let her comb his hair; but as soon as he put his head\ndown, she gave him a severe knock on it, which stunned him, and then\nran back to her husband. Thus ended the adventures of the rabbit.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nRUPA AND BISUNTHA\n\n\nThere was once a woman who had no little children of her own; every\nday she used to watch the sparrows building their nests, and bringing\nup their young, and it so happened that one day a mother bird died,\nleaving several young ones. After a time a new mother bird was brought,\nand she was not at all good to the young fledglings.\n\nThe woman felt hurt for them, and said to her husband: \"If I had\nchildren of my own, and after a time I died, would you do as the\nbirds have done, and let my children be unkindly treated?\"\n\nBut the man replied: \"These are birds, and I am a man.\"\n\nAfter some years the woman had two sons, and when they had grown to\nbe big boys, she died. Her husband had forgotten her conversation\nabout the birds, and he married another wife.\n\nOne day the eldest boy was playing with a ball, when it fell into his\nstepmother's room. He asked if he might fetch it; but when he went\ninside, she made it an occasion for all sorts of complaints against\nhim to his father, so his father turned him out of the house, and he\nwent away with his little brother.\n\nAs they rested that night in the forest, the younger brother lay awake\nand overheard a conversation between two Night Jars. They talked on\nmany subjects. At length one of the birds remarked: \"How little do\npeople guess that he who eats me will become a Rajah, and he who eats\nyou will become a Prime Minister.\"\n\nOn hearing this the youngest brother crept out of bed, and taking his\ngun, shot both birds and cooked them. He ate the female himself, and\nkept the male for his brother. But while he slept, a venomous snake,\nwhich lived in the tree, came down and bit him, so that he died as\nhe slept.\n\nIn the morning his elder brother awoke, and found a meal prepared for\nhim, so he ate the bird, and then tried to wake his companion, but\nsoon discovered that the boy was dead. This grieved him very much,\nand he wept bitterly, and determined to wait till he could return\nand burn his brother in a way befitting to a good caste Hindu, so he\nplaced him in the branches of the tree and went his way.\n\nThe same day Mahadeo and Parbatti were passing that way, and Parbatti,\nwho is ever described as a wilful Goddess, always wanting her own\nway, asked Mahadeo to see what was in the tree. They soon found the\ndead boy; and Parbatti insisted that he should be made alive again,\nso Mahadeo sprinkled a few drops of blood upon him, and he sat up\nalive and well.\n\nClose to this place a Rajah had just died, and his people placed\nhis crown in the trunk of an elephant, leaving it to him to place it\nupon the head of any man there; and that man would be their future\nKing. The elephant looked upon them all, and then, walking up to Rupa,\nplaced the crown upon his head.\n\nAt first the people objected, because he was a stranger, and did not\nbelong to their town, but after a while they accepted him as their\nKing, and thus the words of the bird were fulfilled.\n\nIn the meantime, Bisuntha came to the same city, and begged a night's\nshelter. The people were fully aware that night after night a fierce\nman-eating tiger came to that town, and demanded a man to eat. They did\nnot wish to give one of the men belonging to the town, so Bisuntha,\nbeing a stranger, was selected for the tiger, and told to go and\nsleep in the place where it was likely to come.\n\nAt night he lay awake thinking, and the tiger came; but Bisuntha had\nhis sword beside him, so he promptly killed the tiger, and placed\nits ears and whiskers in his pocket.\n\nIn the morning a sweeper came, thinking to find the stranger dead and\nhis bones scattered about, but, instead, he found the tiger dead,\nand the stranger lying fast asleep; so he resolved to take all the\nhonour of killing the tiger to himself, and went back to the city\nwith the news that he had killed the tiger single-handed, and saved\nthe man. This story was believed, and the sweeper richly rewarded,\nbut Bisuntha heard nothing.\n\nNow there lived in that city a merchant who owned a ship and went\nto distant cities to trade, but sometimes the ship stuck in the\nsandbanks, and could not be moved. At such times it was necessary to\nkill a man, and then the sand was pleased at the sacrifice and let\nthe ship go. It was always difficult to find a man for the purpose,\nand the Rajah was often asked to select one.\n\nBisuntha, at this time, had taken up service in the house of an oil\nmerchant, and being a stranger, he was selected for a second time, and\nsent by the Rajah to accompany the merchant, at the risk of his life.\n\nAt the first sandbank, when the ship was in difficulties and could\nnot be moved, the merchant told Bisuntha he must prepare to die; but\nBisuntha said: \"You desire your ship to move, whether I die or whether\nI do not. If I can make it move on for you, will you spare my life?\"\n\nTo this the merchant agreed; and Bisuntha cut his finger, and dropped\na few drops of blood into the sea. As soon as he did this the ship\nmoved on, and so the merchant would not part with him, or kill him,\nbut kept him during the whole voyage, and brought him back to the town.\n\nRupa had half forgotten his brother all this while, but one day\nhe was stricken with remorse, and determined to find out what had\nhappened after he had left the forest, with the intention of burning\nthe remains of Bisuntha.\n\nIn order to get news of him, he sent out a notice that he would pay\nany one who would come daily and talk with him, for he hoped in the\ncourse of conversation that some one would mention the circumstance\nof the boy who was found dead in a tree in the forest.\n\nAt length Bisuntha himself came to hear what the Rajah his brother\nwas doing, so he disguised himself as a girl, and went to the Palace.\n\nWhen the Rajah saw him he said: \"What have you to say, O my\ndaughter?\" and Bisuntha said: \"Do you wish me to talk on general\nsubjects or only of myself?\"\n\n\"Of yourself,\" said Rupa.\n\nSo the lad began. \"There were once two brothers, whose names were\nRupa and Bisuntha, and they had a stepmother.\"\n\nRupa's interest was now breathless, but after telling a small part of\nthe story Bisuntha said he was tired, and would tell the rest next day.\n\nThe next day he continued, and told how a snake had bitten Bisuntha,\nand how he had died in the forest, and had been raised to life by\nMahadeo and Parbatti. Rupa was now full of anxiety to know the rest,\nbut Bisuntha said he had forgotten it, so nothing could be done.\n\nWhen he came again, he said he remembered that Bisuntha came to a\ncertain town, where the Rajah ordered him to be given to a tiger; how\nhe had escaped the tiger and all other dangers, and had in his pocket\nthe proof. Thus saying he took out the tiger's ears and whiskers,\nand, as his eyes met his brother's, they recognised each other,\nand fell upon each other's necks.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nSHEIK CHILLI\n\n\nThe hero of this story was one day walking along with a vessel of\noil upon his head. As he walked he kept thinking of the future.\n\n\"I will sell the oil, and with the money I shall buy a goat, and then\nI shall sell the kids, and then I shall buy a cow, and sell the milk,\ntill I get a large sum of money; then I shall buy a pair of buffaloes,\nand a field, and plough the field, and gain more money, and build\nmyself a house, and marry a wife, and have many sons and daughters. And\nwhen my wife comes to call me to dinner, I'll say: 'Dhur, away! I'll\ncome when 1 think fit!'\" and with that he held up his head suddenly,\nand away fell the chattie with the oil, and it was all spilt.\n\nThis upset Sheik Chilli so much that he began to yell: \"I have lost\nmy goats, I have lost my cows, I have lost my buffaloes, and my house,\nand my wife and children.\"\n\nThat such dire calamity should befall a man caused great pity, so\nthe bystanders took Sheik Chilli to the Rajah, who asked him how it\nhad all happened.\n\nWhen he heard the story he laughed, and said: \"This boy has a good\nheart, let him be given a reward to compensate him for the loss of\nhis oil.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nSHEIK CHILLI\n\n\nSheik Chilli was going to be married, so his mother said: \"My son,\nwhatever your wife gives you to eat be content with your nemak panee\n(literally salt and water, but a native always speaks of his food as\nhis \"nemak panee\"), and do not grumble, but eat uncomplaining.\"\n\nSo when he was married, and his wife placed his food before him, he\nremembered his mother's warning, and kept repeating, \"Nemak panee,\nnemak panee,\" till his wife was disgusted, and taking him at his word\ngave him salt and water to drink.\n\nDuring the night he felt very hungry, and asked her to give him some\nfood, but she said: \"I am not going to get up and cook food for you\nat this hour of the night, but if you will go into a certain room,\nyou will find some honey in a jar on the shelf, eat a little of that.\"\n\nSheik Chilli, in trying to reach the jar of honey, upset it, and it\ncame pouring down upon him, while he kept calling out, \"Stop, stop,\nI've had enough,\" till at last, surfeited with honey and smeared with\nit from head to foot, he returned to his wife, and told her what had\nhappened. She advised him to go into the next room, where he would\nfind some wool, and clean himself with it.\n\nHe tried to do this, but the wool stuck fast to the honey, and covered\nhis body and his hands, so that he looked more like a sheep than a\nman, and his wife told him that he had better go and sleep with the\nsheep until morning, when she would prepare some warm water for him\nto have a wash.\n\nThat night some thieves came to steal the sheep, and in the darkness\nthey felt each one to see which was fattest. Sheik Chilli was fast\nasleep, and they thought he was a very fine sheep; so they put him\ninto a bag and ran away, taking him with them. When he awoke he kept\ncalling out: \"Let me go, let me go.\" This frightened the robbers,\nwho had never heard a sheep call out before, and so they put down\nthe bag and out dropped Sheik Chilli.\n\nThe robbers asked him who he was, and said: \"You must come with us\nnow, for we are just going to rob the house of a very rich Bunniah;\nwhile we gather the spoils, you keep watch that he does not wake.\"\n\nSheik Chilli waited patiently till he thought the robbers were ready to\nrun away; and then he dropped some hot rice, that was in the cooking\npot on the fire, upon the hand of the Bunniah's wife. She awoke with\na scream, and the robbers ran away. Then Sheik Chilli explained how\nhe had saved the Bunniah from great loss, and was allowed to go free\nwithout any more questions being asked.\n\nWhen he got outside he saw a camel laden with all sorts of\ntreasure. The camel-driver had turned aside for a minute or so, and\nSheik Chilli could not see him, so he lead off the camel, made over\nits pack to his mother, and let it walk away empty.\n\nNext day there was a great fuss made, and the town-crier went round\nto say that a camel had strayed, and certain valuable goods were lost.\n\nSheik Chilli's mother heard this, and knowing how simple her son was,\nshe feared he would tell every one where the things were, so she\nresolved to divert his mind, and that night cooked some goolgoolahs,\na very favourite native dish, like fritters, and flung them into the\ngarden; then she woke her son and told him it was \"raining goolgoolahs\nfrom the sky!\"\n\nThe foolish fellow ran out and called to everybody: \"It is raining\ngoolgoolahs! it is raining goolgoolahs!\" Everybody thought him a fool,\nand said: \"It is that mad Sheik Chilli; who is going to listen to him?\"\n\nNext day Sheik Chilli heard the town-crier calling out about the camel,\nso he promptly said: \"My mother has the things; I myself brought the\ncamel to her.\"\n\nThen they all crowded to his mother's door, and she asked: \"On what\nday did you bring the camel, my son?\"\n\n\"The day it rained goolgoolahs, mother.\"\n\nSo the people walked away disgusted, and said: \"What fool's talk is\nthis? Who ever heard of its raining goolgoolahs? The one statement\nis as false as the other.\"\n\nAfter this his mother advised him to return to his wife, who must\nwonder what had become of him. \"And mind,\" she said, \"whatever your\nwife may say, you must agree, and say 'Acchabat'\"--or \"Quite right,\"\nas we English would say \"Good!\" or \"Very good news!\"\n\nSo he returned to his wife, and the first piece of news she gave him\nwas that her mother had been put into prison, to which he replied,\n\"Acchabat,\" or \"Very good.\" On this his wife was exceedingly vexed,\nand turned him out of the house.\n\nHe returned to his mother, who asked him what had happened. She said:\n\"You are indeed a foolish boy, you should have said, 'Ah ha! Ah\nha! this is indeed sad news.' I hope you will remember next time what\nI have told you.\"\n\nSo Sheik Chilli went back to his wife, who greeted him with the news\nthat his mother-in-law had been released.\n\n\"Ah ha!\" said Sheik Chilli, \"this is indeed sad news.\"\n\nThe mother-in-law, who overheard him, said: \"I have had enough of you:\ntake your wife, and go and live in your own mother's house.\" So she\nturned him out.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE MONKEY, THE TIGER, AND THE PRINCESS\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a King who had seven sons, and he made\nup his mind that he would not let them marry unless they married\nseven sisters, so he sent his Brahmin to seek a Rajah who had seven\ndaughters, and to bring him word. After a time the Brahmin succeeded,\nand found a Rajah who had seven daughters; so arrangements were\nspeedily made for their marriage.\n\nWhen the time came for the seven Princes to go and fetch their brides,\nthe youngest said to his father: \"If we all go, who is to look after\nthe house, and all your property? Let me remain behind, and when my\nbrothers return with their wives, they can bring my bride also.\"\n\nHis father thought this a very wise suggestion, so they set out,\nleaving the youngest brother at home.\n\nAfter the wedding festivities were over, the seven brides were carried\nalong in doolies, with the six Princes for an escort, and they halted\nfor the night near a tank or pond in the forest, but did not know\nthat the place was full of tigers. At night the tigers formed a ring\nround the camp, and said they would eat every one in it unless one\nof the Princesses was given up to them.\n\nNone of the six Princes would give up his wife. At last they decided\nto leave the seventh Princess to the tigers.\n\nWhen the procession arrived at the Rajah's Palace, the youngest Prince\nwondered why only six doolies had come, and asked what had become of\nhis bride; but nobody would give him an answer.\n\nAt last an old man told him what had happened, and the young Prince,\nwho was very angry and disappointed with his brothers, at once set\nout to seek his bride.\n\nOn the way he met a rat and a jackal, and they said: \"May we go with\nyou?\" The Prince consented, and the three set out together, and walked\nor rode till evening, when they were overcome with fatigue and sat\ndown to rest.\n\nThe Prince fell asleep, but the jackal said to the rat: \"I am very\nhungry, what shall we do for food? Do you eat the Prince's clothes,\nand I will eat his horse.\"\n\nNo sooner did they agree than they carried out their plan. The rat\nate all the clothes worn by the Prince, and the jackal ate his horse,\nso that when he awoke it was to find himself alone in the forest,\nwithout either horse or clothes.\n\nJust then a monkey came down from the tree, and asked him what was\nthe matter.\n\n\"I have told my troubles to two animals before, and do not wish to be\nbetrayed by a third,\" said the Prince; to which the monkey replied:\n\"A rat is a rat, and a jackal is a jackal, but I am a monkey; come\nwith me and I will help you out of your troubles.\"\n\nThen they went to the Bazaar, where the monkey gave his friend the\nPrince some money, and told him to buy himself clothes. When he\nhad bought the clothes, he gave him some more money and said to buy\nhimself a sword and ornaments, and lastly to buy himself a horse,\nand the monkey advised that it should be a thin horse, fleet of limb.\n\nThen the two mounted the horse and rode into the forest, where they\nsoon found the Princess sitting tied up in a den, with an old blind\ntiger in charge of her. The blind tiger held two strings; one was\nattached to the girl, and the other to a large tiger who had gone\nout with the rest of the tigers, but who, at the slightest pull of\nthe string, was ready to return to give any assistance required of him.\n\nThe monkey whispered to the girl to try and free herself, and meantime,\nhe began to sweep the room, and busy himself, so that the old blind\ntiger might think the girl was busy at her household work.\n\nAfter a time the girl managed to get away, and she fled with the\nPrince, until the monkey thought they were at a safe distance; then\nhe turned round and dealt several blows to the old blind tiger, who,\nin her turn, pulled the string. A great big tiger at once came to\nher assistance, and asked what had happened, but he was enraged to\nfind that the girl had gone, and beat the old tiger soundly, before\nsetting off in hot pursuit.\n\nOn the way he saw a man, who was in reality the monkey in disguise,\nsitting beside a funeral pyre.\n\n\"What is this for?\" asked the tiger.\n\n\"A certain tiger,\" said the monkey, \"has killed his mother to-day,\nand this is to burn her upon.\"\n\nThe tiger felt remorse, for he had not meant to kill the old tiger,\nso he rushed back to the den, and this gave the fugitives time to\nescape yet further; but when the tiger found his mother alive and\nwell, he was so angry that he dragged her out of the den by her feet\nand threw her on the ground.\n\nThen he ran back to where the monkey was sitting and found him still\nbusy with the funeral pyre, for he said that an old woman had been\ndragged out by her feet that day, and she was even now being carried\nto be burnt.\n\nThe tiger was filled with remorse at what he had done, and for a\nsecond time ran back to the den. By this time both the Prince and\nthe Princess had escaped in safety, and the monkey joined them.\n\nThey were always good to him, but he pined for the woods and the\nforests; yet, whenever he asked to be allowed to return, they would\nnot allow it. So one day he determined to make the Princess so angry\nthat she would herself turn him out. He awaited his opportunity,\nand broke all the thread as she was spinning. The Princess threw\nsomething heavy at his head, and he feigned to fall down dead.\n\nGreat were the lamentations over the faithful monkey, and he was\ncarried in solemn ceremony to be burnt, just as though he were a\nRajah's son; but the moment they laid him upon the fire, up he jumped,\nand ran off.\n\nThe Princess scolded him for causing her such sorrow, but he explained\nthat since there was no other way of getting back into the forest\nand regaining his liberty, he had thought this the best way. Then\nthey all came home, and let the monkey sport in the forest as before.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE JACKAL AND THE GUANA\n\n\nA jackal once made itself a throne of bones near the river-side,\nand levied toll on all the animals that came there to drink water,\nmaking each say in turn these words:\n\n\n   \"Golden is your throne,\n    Silver is its plaster,\n    In your ears are golden earrings,\n    And you sit like a Rajah.\"\n\n\nThis praise pleased the jackal, and he was puffed up with his own\nimportance.\n\nOne day a guana, or iguana, a very large lizard, called by the natives\n\"Go,\" came to the river, but when the jackal asked it to repeat\nthe words, it said: \"Let me drink first, for I am dying of thirst;\"\nso he let it drink, and when it had finished, it said:\n\n\n   \"Bones are your throne,\n    With cow dung are they plastered,\n    In your ears are shoes,\n    And you sit like a jackal.\"\n\n\nThis made the jackal wild with anger, so he ran after the Go to kill\nit, and caught its tail in his teeth, just as the Go was getting into\na hole. \"Hoo hoo,\" said the jackal.\n\n\"Don't say Hoo, say Ha,\" called the Go; so the jackal said \"Ha!\" and\nin order to say it, had to open his mouth, so the Go escaped!\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE BLACK COW\n\n\nThere was a certain Brahmin whose wife died leaving him one little\nson. For some time the two lived happily together, but at last the\nBrahmin married for a second time, and the woman, who had a daughter\nof her own, was very unkind to her little stepson.\n\nEach day the two children went out together to attend to the cattle,\nand at night they returned home to eat their food. But the cakes made\nby the Brahmin's wife for her stepson were of ashes, with just a little\nflour mixed in to give them the appearance of food, that the Brahmin\nmight not notice; and the child ate in silence, for he was afraid to\ncomplain, yet, when he was alone in the forest he wept from hunger,\nand a black cow, one of the herd, saw this, and asked him what was\nthe matter.\n\nThe boy told her everything, and presently she beat her hoofs upon\nthe ground. As she did so, sweets of all kinds appeared, which the\nchild ate greedily, and shared with his little sister, warning her\nthe while not to mention at home what the black cow had done, lest\nthe stepmother should be angry.\n\nThe stepmother meanwhile wondered to see how well the boy looked,\nand she resolved to keep watch, for she suspected that he drank the\nmilk while tending her cows; so she told her little daughter to keep\na good look-out on all his doings, and to let her know. At last the\ngirl confessed that they ate sweets every day, and the black cow\nprovided the feast.\n\nThat day when the Brahmin came home his wife begged him to sell\nthe black cow, and said she would neither sleep nor eat until this\nwas done.\n\nThe poor boy was sad indeed when he heard this, and went at once\nto his favourite, where, throwing himself on the black cow's neck,\nhe wept bitterly.\n\n\"Do not weep, my child, but get up on my back, and I will carry you\nto a place of safety where we can still be together.\"\n\nSo they escaped to a forest, and there lived in peace and security\nfor many days.\n\nNow, in the forest was a hole, which led to the home of the Great\nSnake, which, together with a bull, holds up the universe. Into\nthis hole the black cow poured five seers of milk daily to feed the\nsnake. This pleased the snake so much that he said one day: \"I must\ngo up into the world and see for myself the creature who is so good\nto me and who sends me such good milk to drink.\"\n\nWhen he came he saw the black cow grazing with the boy beside her.\n\nThe cow asked no favours for herself, but when the snake asked what\nshe would like, she said she would like her son, as she called the\nBrahmin's son, to be clothed in gold from head to foot, and that all\nhis body might shine as gold.\n\nThis wish the snake readily granted, but both cow and boy afterwards\nregretted their request, for they feared robbers.\n\nOne day as the boy had his bath by the river, and combed his long\nlocks of pure gold, some of his golden hair fell into the water,\nand was swallowed by a fish. This fish was caught by a fisherman,\nand taken for sale to the King's Palace. When they cut it open\nall present admired the lovely golden hair, and when the Princess\nsaw it, she said she would never be happy again until she met the\nowner. The fisherman was asked where he caught the fish, and people\nwere despatched in all directions in boats to search both far and wide.\n\nAt last a man in one of the boats espied in the distance a beautiful\nshining object taking a bath by the river-side. Little by little the\nboat came closer and closer, until it was alongside; then the man\ncalled out and asked the bather to come a little nearer. At first\nthe Brahmin's son would not listen, but after a time he came up to\nthe boat, when, to his surprise, he was at once seized, tied up,\nand carried away.\n\nArrived at the King's Palace he met the Princess, who was very\nbeautiful; and when he saw her he forgot everything else, and thought\nonly of her.\n\nAfter a short time they were married, and spent many happy days\ntogether; but some one chanced to offer them a sweet-meat made of\ncurds, such as the black cow often gave her boy, and in a frenzy of\nremorse, the Brahmin's son remembered his faithful friend and hastened\nto the place in the distant forest where he had last seen her. Arrived\nthere he found only a few bones of dead cattle strewn about.\n\nHe was heart-broken at the sight, and gathered all the bones together\ninto a funeral pyre, upon which he declared he would lay down his\nown life; but just as he was about to do this who should appear but\nhis old friend, the black cow.\n\nThey were overjoyed to see each other, and she told him she had\nonly kept the bones there to test his affection; but now that she\nwas satisfied that he had not forgotten her, the meeting was full of\nhappiness and joy, so they held a great feast for many days and then\nwent their separate ways as before.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE BRAHMIN AND THE WILD GEESE\n\n\nThere was once a Brahmin who had a large family, and was very\npoor. Every day he went out into the Bazaar to beg, but whether he\nbegged for only an hour, or for the whole day, he seldom succeeded\nin getting a seer of atta (two pounds of flour).\n\nNow this made his wife very angry, for she thought that the longer he\nbegged, the more he should gain. She suspected that he sold what he\nwas given, instead of bringing it home for his family, so she accused\nhim and beat him soundly.\n\nThe Brahmin was deeply vexed at her treatment, and determined to go\nto the river and there drown himself; yet when he tried to do so,\nhis courage failed, so he alternately threw himself into the water\nand then changed his mind and came out again.\n\nHis conduct attracted the attention of a couple of wild geese, who\nhad their nest near by.\n\n\"I wonder what that man is doing; I think I will go and see,\" said\nthe gander; but his wife advised him not, \"for who knows the ways of\nhuman beings.\"\n\nYet he would not listen, and going up to the Brahmin, asked him the\nreason of his strange conduct.\n\nThe Brahmin told him everything, and when he had done the goose said:\n\"Shut your eyes till I tell you to open them.\"\n\nThe Brahmin did as he was told, and on opening his eyes, the goose\nheld out to him in its beak, a most valuable and beautiful ruby.\n\n\"Take this, my friend, and sell it to a Rajah, and then your troubles\nwill be all over.\"\n\nThe Brahmin thanked him warmly, and went off with his treasure to the\nnearest State; there the Rajah looked at the ruby, but said he could\nnot afford to buy so valuable a gem unless the Brahmin would accept\nfor it seven mule loads of money. This the Brahmin gladly consented\nto do, and returned to his home a rich man.\n\nSome time after this, the poor Rajah who had bought the ruby got\nleprosy, and called all the physicians he could find to cure him. One\nof these said he would be cured if he ate the flesh of a wild goose,\nand applied its fat to his hands.\n\nThat very day the Rajah sent for the Brahmin, and told him to go\nwithout delay and fetch him a wild goose, when he would reward him\ngreatly. Now, the Brahmin loved money, and for his greed of gold,\nforgot all the kindness of the wild goose, and made up his mind to\nsecure it; so he went to the river as before, and began to try and\ndrown himself.\n\nThe geese watched him with much concern, for they wondered what\nhad caused this fresh trouble, after all that had been done for\nhim. Perhaps a thief had stolen the ruby. The old gander ran to\nenquire, but his wife warned him not to go.\n\n\"What is the matter, O Brahmin?\"\n\n\"Nothing, my friend, except that I wish to behold your face again.\"\n\n\"Well, here I am.\"\n\n\"Ah, not so far, my friend; come nearer that I may caress you,\"\ncried the Brahmin.\n\nSo the foolish bird came nearer, and no sooner had he done so, than\nthe Brahmin seized him and put him in a bag, with only his head out.\n\nAs they went along, the poor goose shed bitter tears of reproach,\nand each tear became a beautiful pearl. The Rajah's son chanced to\ncome that way, saw the pearls, and followed in their track, until he\ncame to the spot where the Brahmin sat.\n\n\"What is in your bag?\" he asked; \"and why do pearls fall from it as\nyou walk along?\"\n\nThe Brahmin denied that he had anything in his bag, but the Prince\nwould not listen, and accused him of theft; so at length he opened it,\nand displayed the wild goose.\n\nThe poor bird told the Prince of all he had done for the Brahmin,\nand of the poor return and ingratitude he was having now. This made\nthe Prince very angry, and he at once released the goose, who gladly\nflew away.\n\nThe Brahmin then went to the Rajah, and told him what his son had done,\nand orders were at once given to banish the Prince from the kingdom.\n\nThen the Prince went to the river and told the wild goose of his\nbanishment, and, out of gratitude, the goose and his wife brought food\nand fruit daily, and placed it before him. This went on for some time,\nand then the geese decided to find a wife for their visitor.\n\nNow a lovely Princess lived in a Palace close to that place; and one\nnight, while she slept, the two geese joined wings under her bed,\nand carried her to the river. In the morning when she awoke she was\nsurprised to find herself in this lonely place.\n\nBut the Prince met her and told her that he too was banished; and\nthey became great friends and soon afterwards were married. The wild\ngeese gave them many beautiful and valuable gifts, and they went to\nlive in the former home of the Princess.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOUR-GIFTED PRINCESS\n\n\nThere was once a King, who was sitting with his wife before the fire\nwhen they heard a partridge call. The King said: \"That sound comes\nfrom the left,\" and his wife said it came from the right, so they had\na bet about it, and the Rajah said: \"If you are right you may have\nmy kingdom, and I will cease to reign any longer;\" so he went out,\nand found that his wife was right.\n\nThis being the case, he began to make preparations to leave, and\nto make over his kingdom to her; but, as he was about to do this,\nhis servants, who knew of the bet, advised him not to be so foolish,\nbut to take another wife, and to do away with this one, rather than\npart with the kingdom. At first the King would not listen, but after\na time he agreed to leave the matter in their hands.\n\nThat night they waited till the poor Ranee lay asleep, and took her\nas she slept, placed her in a box, locked it up, and threw it into\na river.\n\nAn old Fakir was in the habit of bathing in the river very early in the\nmorning, and when he came he found the box and opened it. The Ranee\nwas unconscious, but not dead; so he carried her to his own home,\nand there looked after her until she recovered.\n\nNow the Ranee was about to present the kingdom with an heir, and\nwas very miserable to find herself deserted and in a strange home at\nsuch a time, so she cried bitterly, and three fairies were sent to\nher assistance.\n\nSoon after this a little daughter was born to her, and when the child\nwas a month old, the three fairies took their leave, but, before going,\neach determined to leave a parting gift for the little Princess.\n\nThe first said that whenever she placed her foot on a stone it would\nturn to either silver or gold. The second said that whenever she\nlaughed sweet scented flowers would fall from her lips. The third\nsaid that whenever she cried pearls would fall from her eyes.\n\nAll these things came to pass, so in time they built a beautiful\nPalace.\n\nOne day the Rajah passed that way, and asked the Brahmin how he had\nbuilt such a lovely Palace in the place of his old mud-hut.\n\nThe old man told him how he had found the box, and all about the Queen,\nhis wife, whom he thought was dead.\n\nThe Rajah owned his sin, and implored forgiveness of his wife. At\nfirst she refused to forgive him, but after a time she listened, and\nthe Rajah said that, if ever again he did anything to vex or hurt her,\nthe old Fakir might punish him as he thought best.\n\nNow the Indian people dread the punishment of a holy Fakir; so the\nQueen returned to her former Palace, and lived happily ever after.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAN WHO WENT TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE\n\n\nThere was once a Zemindar or Jhut who was very poor, and he had a\nbrother who was very rich, but the rich brother never helped him at\nall and often reproached him for his poverty.\n\nOne day the poor Zemindar determined to go out into the wide world\nto seek his fortune, and not to return until he had found it.\n\nHaving thus made up his mind he set out on his journey, and the first\nthing he came across was a King's Palace, which was in the hands of\ncarpenters and masons; but no sooner had they built it up on one side,\nthan the other side fell down, so that the place was at all times\nunder repairs, and caused its owner much expense and anxiety.\n\nAs the Zemindar stood watching the place, the King came out, and\nasked him who he was, and where he was going; so he told him that it\nwas to seek his fortune.\n\n\"Well, when you get to the place where you find it, will you think of\nme, and enquire the reason why my Palace is constantly falling down?\"\n\nThis the Zemindar promised to do, and then continued on his journey.\n\nThe next place he arrived at was a river, and a turtle was on its\nbank. It asked him whither he was going, and he said: \"To seek my\nfortune.\"\n\n\"Friend, remember me when it is found, and say that the poor turtle,\nalthough it lives in water, suffers from a severe burning sensation\ninwardly. Pray enquire the reason of this.\"\n\nSo the Zemindar promised, and, as a reward, the turtle bore him across\nthe river on its back.\n\nAfter another long journey, when he was both hungry and footsore,\nthe Zemindar spied in the distance a most beautiful plum tree. It\nwas the season for plums, so he determined to have a good feast of\nthe fruit, and plucked one of the largest and best, but it tasted\nso bitter that he quickly threw it away, and, turning to the tree in\nanger and disappointment, cursed it.\n\n\"You are fair to look at, but otherwise good for nothing,\" he cried\nbitterly.\n\n\"Alas!\" replied the tree, \"this is what all travellers say to me. Yet\nI cannot discover why my fruits are bitter. Will you, O traveller,\nfind out for me in your travels, and bring me word?\"\n\nAfter leaving the plum tree, the Zemindar went into a thick jungle,\nand in the midst of it found an old Fakir fast asleep. He did not know\nthat this holy man had slept for twelve years, and was just about to\nawake. While he stood there the old Fakir opened his eyes, and saw him.\n\n\"Son, you have looked after me while I was asleep; who are you and\nwhere are you going?\"\n\n\"I am going to seek my fortune, for I am a poor man.\"\n\n\"Go no further, but return the same way that you have come,\" said\nthe old Fakir.\n\n\"Before I go, will you tell me, O holy Fakir, why a certain Rajah's\nhouse is always falling down, though he is constantly rebuilding it.\"\n\n\"The Rajah has a daughter who is grown up but unmarried; when she is\nmarried the trouble will cease.\"\n\n\"A turtle is troubled with burning sensations inwardly, and would be\nglad to know the cause.\"\n\n\"The turtle is full of wisdom, but selfishly keeps all its knowledge\nto itself. Let it tell half it knows to another, and it will become\nquite well.\"\n\n\"There is a beautiful plum tree whose fruits are bitter to the\ntaste. What is the cause of this?\"\n\n\"There is hidden treasure at the root of the tree, and when this is\nremoved, the fruit will be sweet,\" said the old Fakir.\n\nThen the Zemindar thanked him, made a low salaam, and returned the\nsame way he had come.\n\nFirst he met the plum tree, and it at once enquired if he had found\nout why its fruit was bitter, and he told it the reason.\n\n\"It is yours to remove that cause, my friend, so dig quickly, and\nsee what there is at my roots.\"\n\nThe Zemindar did as he was bid, and found a box full of\ntreasure--pearls, and gold, and rubies--so he tied them in his blanket,\nand went on his way.\n\nAt the river his friend the turtle awaited him eagerly; so the Zemindar\nexplained everything, and the turtle said: \"I will impart half the\nknowledge to you as a reward; stoop down and listen.\"\n\nThe man did as he was bid, and the creature imparted great wisdom to\nhim in whispers.\n\nAfter this he met the King, who said: \"Well, traveller, what news? Have\nyou found your fortune?\"\n\n\"Yes, O King, and the cause of your trouble is, that, until your\ndaughter is married, your house will continue to fall down.\"\n\n\"Will you marry her?\" said the King.\n\nThe Zemindar gladly consented, and the marriage took place with\ngreat pomp. After it he returned to his own home, and there his elder\nbrother met him.\n\n\"You see, brother,\" said the Zemindar, \"that you said it was my fate\nto have but a seer of atta (flour a day), but I have found my good\nfortune at last.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHREE WISE MEN AND THE KING'S DAUGHTER\n\n\nA King had a very beautiful daughter, and was anxious that she should\nmarry some one who had made himself famous in some particular way.\n\nThree men in the city came forward and begged the King for her hand\nin marriage.\n\n\"But what can you do?\" asked the King.\n\n\"I can tell if a thing is lost, where to find it,\" said the first,\n\"and produce it if required.\"\n\nThe second said: \"I can make such wonderful horses out of wood,\nthat they can rise to any height and go anywhere.\"\n\nThe third said: \"I can shoot with my bow any living thing.\"\n\nThe King was pleased, and went and told his daughter, asking her to\nchoose which she would have as a husband.\n\n\"I will tell you to-morrow,\" said the girl.\n\nThe King agreed, but on the morrow she was nowhere to be found,\nand her father, much distressed, went to the three wise men.\n\n\"Now,\" said he to the first, \"tell me where my daughter is.\"\n\n\"She is with the fairies,\" he replied, \"and unless the one in charge\nof her is killed, she cannot return.\"\n\nThen the King turned to the other two men. To the horse-maker he said:\n\"Go and make me a horse,\" and to the other: \"Take your bow and arrow,\nmount the horse, and go and shoot the fairy: bring my daughter back\nwith you.\"\n\nForthwith the men prepared: the horse was made, and mounted by the\nman with his bow and arrows, then they all disappeared into the\nskies. There they found the King's daughter guarded by a fairy.\n\nThe third man soon shot the fairy with his bow and arrow, and,\nlifting the Princess upon his horse, returned with her to her father.\n\nNow each man felt that he had an equal claim upon her, and had earned\nher as his wife; so the King asked her to decide.\n\n\"I will marry the man who shot the fairy,\" said she, \"and no other.\"\n\nThis decision being final, they had a grand feast in celebration of\nher marriage.\n\n\n\nMoral.--Those who think they have the best claim, do not always attain\ntheir desires!\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nBARBIL'S SON\n\n\nA Rajah's son once went to worship at a sacred stone; when there, he\nbeheld a lovely young girl, so, falling on his face before the stone,\nhe said: \"If you will but give me this girl as my bride, I will give\nyou my head as a sacrifice.\"\n\nHis prayer was granted, and he married the girl.\n\nFor two months he was so happy that he never remembered his vow, but\nat the end of that time, a Brahmin came and reminded him of it. So,\nafter bidding his wife a loving farewell, he went sadly away, and,\ncutting off his head, placed it near the stone as a sacrifice.\n\nNow his father, Barbil, missing him, came there to search, and\nwas horrified to find his son's dead body with the head offered to\nthe stone.\n\n\"What is my life worth to me now? I will also sacrifice myself,\"\nsaid he, and forthwith he too cut off his own head and placed it\nbeside that of his son.\n\nThe bride, finding neither father nor husband return, went forth in\nsearch of them; and, seeing what had happened, determined to add her\nown life to the sacrifice.\n\nShe was just about to destroy herself when a voice near by said:\n\"Daughter, do not hurt yourself. The heads alone are off, but if you\ntake them and place them beside the bodies, they will unite again.\"\n\nThe delighted girl immediately did as she was directed, and the\ntwo heads were united to the bodies, so that she once again saw her\nhusband and father alive.\n\nBut no sooner did they begin to speak than she found that she had made\na terrible mistake, for, in her eagerness to restore the heads to their\nbodies again, she had not noticed that she had united her husband's\nhead to his father's body, and Barbil's head to her husband's body.\n\nWhile the two men quarrelled over this mistake, the poor girl,\ngreatly distressed, appealed to the Gods to help her. They bade her\ncease weeping.\n\n\"The head is the principal thing,\" said they; \"do not mind the body:\nif you were the daughter of a poor man and married a Prince, Barbil,\nhaving taken the form of the Prince, is also of royal blood, so it\nmatters not. Let him that has the head of your husband be your husband\nagain, and he who has the head of the King be the King.\"\n\nThus they settled the matter, and returned home.\n\n\n\nMoral.--The head ruleth the body, and not the body the head!\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE TIGER AND THE RATS\n\n\nAn old tiger became ill in the jungles, and, being unable to use his\nteeth, was much troubled by rats, who used to come and eat his food\nbefore he had time to touch it.\n\nNearly starved to death, he appealed to the fox, who said: \"Why do\nyou not keep a cat? you will then soon be rid of your trouble.\"\n\nThe tiger thought this an excellent idea, and immediately sent for\na cat.\n\nNow the cat was a very cunning animal, and thought to herself,\nhow nice it was to be in the service of the tiger. \"But,\" said she,\n\"I will only drive away the rats, because, if I kill them, the tiger\nwill have no further need of me, and my employment will be gone.\"\n\nSo she kept watching by the tiger all night and drove away the rats.\n\nOne day she said to the tiger: \"To-night, if you do not mind, I'd\nlike to take a holiday, and would like you to take care of my kitten.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the tiger.\n\nSo the cat brought the kitten, and, leaving it with the tiger,\nwent away.\n\nThe kitten was a splendid ratter, and, not knowing why it had been\nput near the tiger, was surprised and delighted to see the rats,\nwhich it speedily killed; and then arranged in a line to show its\nmother on her return in the morning.\n\nBut as soon as the cat saw them she grew very angry, and said:\n\"What have you done? you have taken away my employment.\"\n\nThe poor little kitten said that it did not know that it was not to\nkill rats, and was very unhappy.\n\nThen the tiger came forward, and dismissed them both, saying: \"I am\nnow rid of the rats, and require your service no longer.\"\n\nSo they went away crestfallen.\n\n\n\nMoral.--Thus do people often make a convenience of those who are\ntheir best friends!\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE ADVENTURES OF A BIRD\n\n\nA small bird was once half buried in a puddle and could not escape,\nso it called to a passing stranger for help.\n\n\"Take me out, O stranger, and as a reward, you may eat me when my\nfeathers are dried.\"\n\nSo the man assisted it; but no sooner were its wings free than it\nflew away without expressing a word of gratitude.\n\nAfter going a short distance it found a cowrie (or small shell,\nthe smallest current coin in India, and now very rarely used), and\njoyously exclaimed: \"I have found a cowrie, I have money--I am now\nhigher than a Rajah.\"\n\nA Rajah hearing this, sent a man to take away the cowrie. \"See,\"\nsaid he, \"that bird says it is higher than a Rajah.\"\n\nSo he took the cowrie, and brought it to the Rajah.\n\nWhereupon the bird said: \"See, that Rajah was hungry, so he took away\nmy money.\"\n\nThis annoyed the Rajah so much (as only the poorest people deal in\ncowries) that he immediately restored it to the bird, who, nothing\ndaunted, replied: \"See, the Rajah was afraid, and so he has returned\nmy cowrie.\"\n\nThis was going a little too far, and the Rajah, in a rage, ordered\nthe offender to be shot.\n\n\n\nMoral.--Let Well alone.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE LEGEND OF NALDERA TEMPLE\n\n\nAt a little distance beyond Mushobra in the Simla district, stands\nan old, old temple of the Mongolian type, around which hangs a quaint\nwooden fringe, which causes a strange rattling sound on a windy day.\n\nNo priest lives within its sacred precincts, and the vicinity being\nthe Viceroy's summer camping ground, the presiding \"Deo,\" or deity,\nmust often be disturbed by the light laughter and chatter of picnic\nparties from Simla.\n\nMany years ago, before the present Rickshaw Road existed, a party of\nhillmen, gaily laughing and talking as they swung along, carrying a\n\"Dandy\" (or kind of litter), arrived at the place.\n\nIt was about 11 A.M. on a bright October morning, and the keen wit\nof the men as they exchanged repartee with many bright-eyed Paharee\nmaidens, seemed in keeping with the cool, crisp air and turquoise\nblue sky; but suddenly a deep silence fell upon them.\n\nThey had come within sight of a number of enormous boulders which\nlay scattered, as though hurled by some earthquake or invisible force\nalong the precipitous mountain side.\n\nNot a word escaped the lips of the four men till they had turned the\ncorner which bounds Naldera Temple; then they took out their cheelums\nand smoked while they told this tale:\n\n\"Years and years ago there stood in this place a beautiful and\nprosperous city, full of houses and people.\n\n\"The present Temple stood in its midst, but the people were wicked and\nsinful, so one day the 'Deo' arose in great wrath and hurled the entire\ncity with its inhabitants down into the precipice, so that not one\nstone was left standing upon another; and the grey rocks and solitary\nTemple alone remain to tell the tale of past splendour and prosperity.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE BUNNIAH'S WIFE AND THE THIEF\n\n\nA Bunniah, or merchant, lying awake one night, saw a thief enter the\nroom. So he whispered to his wife: \"Wife, wife, a thief is in the room;\nwhat are we to do?\"\n\nNow his wife was a very clever woman, and she replied: \"Why are you\nwaking me? I was having such a fine dream.\"\n\n\"What did you dream?\" asked her husband.\n\n\"I dreamt that I had three fine sons, and they were named 'Mugwani,'\n'Hajee,' and 'Chor.'\" (The last name means \"thief.\")\n\n\"What silly names!\" said the Bunniah. \"How could you call out to them?\"\n\n\"By their names, of course,\" replied she.\n\n\"But how could you call 'Chor'? If it happened to be night, what\nwould people think?\"\n\n\"Why, I would call him like this, loud: 'Chor!' 'Chor!'\" and she jumped\nup and ran out of the room, followed by her husband, the two calling\n\"Chor! Chor!\" as loudly as they could.\n\nThe thief, thinking they were only pretending, remained silent under\nthe bed, waiting for their return. They soon came back with a number\nof friends, who caught the thief and took him away to prison.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nWHO STOLE THE RUBY?\n\n\nA dying King called his three sons to him and gave each of them a\nruby. \"Keep this,\" said he, \"in remembrance of your father.\"\n\nThe three rubies were put into a box and locked up. Some time\nafterwards, on opening the box, only two rubies were found in it,\nand the third one was missing.\n\nNow the three sons knew that had a thief been there, he would have\nhelped himself to all the stones, so they said within themselves:\n\"One of our friends has done this; let us go and tell the Priest.\"\n\nSo they started off together, and on the way met a man, who said:\n\"Friends, have you seen my camel?\"\n\n\"Was it blind?\" asked the eldest brother.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the man.\n\n\"Had it no tail?\" asked the second.\n\n\"You are right,\" said the man.\n\n\"Was it carrying vinegar?\" enquired the third.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the man. \"Did you see it?\"\n\n\"No,\" said the brothers; \"we did not see it.\"\n\n\"Very strange,\" returned the man; \"you know all about it, and yet you\ndid not see it. I will also go to the Priest and tell him about you.\"\n\nSo they went, and the man told the Priest his story.\n\n\"How is it that you three know all about the camel, and yet you did\nnot see it?\" said the Priest.\n\n\"Well,\" said the eldest, \"I noticed that all the plants and shrubs on\nthe way were eaten on one side only, so I concluded that the animal\nwho had eaten them must have been blind not to see the other side.\"\n\n\"How did you know that it had no tail?\"\n\n\"I saw the patch of mud where it sat down,\" replied the second brother,\n\"and there was an imprint of a body but no tail.\"\n\nThe Priest then asked the third boy how he knew that the camel\ncarried vinegar.\n\n\"Because all along the road were wet patches which smelt of vinegar.\"\n\nThese answers pleased the Priest very much, and he gave a feast for\nthe brothers.\n\nDuring the feast he sat down, and, unknown to them, watched and\nlistened to find out what they were talking about.\n\nThe eldest said: \"This grain he has given us to eat was grown in\na cemetery.\"\n\nThe second said: \"And this meat is not killed meat; it is some\nother flesh.\"\n\nThe youngest said: \"The Priest himself is a villain.\"\n\nThen the Priest ran out and caught the man who had sold him the grain.\n\n\"Tell me at once where you gathered this grain?\" demanded he.\n\n\"From a cemetery,\" confessed the man.\n\nAfter this the Priest sought the butcher, and said: \"Where did you\nget that meat you sold me? Did you kill the sheep?\"\n\nThe butcher admitted that it was the flesh of a goat which had dropped\ndead, and had not been killed.\n\nGoing back, the Priest resolved to catch the boys in their own net,\nand he told them a story about two men and a thief.\n\n\"Now,\" said he, when he had finished, \"which of the three do you\nprefer?\"\n\nThe eldest boy said he liked one man, and the second the other,\nbut the third preferred the thief!\n\n\"Well,\" said the Priest, \"if you prefer the thief, you yourself must\nbe a thief. Where is the third ruby?\"\n\nOn this the boy confessed that he had stolen it; and, taking it out of\nhis pocket, restored it to his brother. The three went home together,\nand lived happily ever afterwards.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF VICKRAMADIT\n\n\nA king once asked his daughters to tell him the reason why they were\nso comfortable and always clothed in fine raiment, with jewels to wear,\nand a Palace to live in.\n\nThey all said: \"It is because we are your daughters, O King!\"\n\nBut the youngest said: \"I am what I am through my favourable destiny,\nand not because I happen to be your daughter; if good fortune be\ndestined for us we shall have it under any circumstances.\"\n\nAt this the King was very angry, and said: \"Leave my Palace at once,\nand see what your own luck will do for you; methinks your lucky stars\nwill cease to shine once you have left my Palace.\"\n\nBut in order to further humiliate her, he determined to get her\nmarried to the poorest man in his kingdom, and one who was weak and\nsickly and about to die.\n\nHe therefore sent his servants to bring the first sickly-looking\npauper they could find.\n\nNow it so happened about this time that one Vickramadit, a holy\nmendicant, was lying outside the Palace gates stricken down with great\nsuffering, and almost at the point of death; and they brought him as\nthe most suitable man for the young Princess to marry.\n\nThe poor beggar Vickramadit was in reality a great King, who once\nreigned over the ancient and holy city of Ujjain; but he had abdicated\nhis throne in order to become a \"Sanyasi,\" or begging Fakir, and was\nthen on a pilgrimage to Kasi, the holy city of Benares, where he hoped\nto pass the rest of his days in prayer, and the deeds of charity for\nwhich he was well known.\n\nThe sickness with which he was stricken down at the gates of the\nKing's Palace was caused through his great love of God's creatures,\nand happened in this way.\n\nOne day, as he was walking along footsore and tired, a snake came\nup to him and said: \"Can you give me some water to drink, for I am\ndying of thirst?\"\n\nVickramadit replied: \"I have no water in my gourd, having just drank\nit; but if you will promise not to harm me, you may creep down my\nthroat into my body, and there drink your fill and return satisfied.\"\n\nThis the snake promised, but, instead of returning, it remained within\nhim and refused to come back.\n\nAll that the beggar ate passed into the mouth of the snake; and in\nthis way he soon found himself unable to travel, and obliged to rest,\nsuffering at the same time great agonies from starvation and thirst.\n\nWhen the King's servants found and brought him to the Palace, the\nyoung Princess was there and then forced to marry Vickramadit, and\nexpelled from the town with her beggar husband.\n\nBoth King and Queen expressed a hope at parting that she would soon\nlearn the lesson, that it was all due to them alone that she had\nfared so well hitherto.\n\nAs Vickramadit could not travel very far owing to weakness, she took\nshelter in the first small hut she could find, and there stayed,\ntrying to alleviate his sufferings.\n\nNow, near this hut was a mound of earth in which dwelt a snake. In\nthe evenings, as is usual in India, the snake came out of his hole\nand stood on the mound of earth, where he hissed violently.\n\nThe snake which lived inside Vickramadit heard the sound, and hissed\nin reply. Then they began a conversation.\n\nThe snake on the mound said: \"You traitor! You were given permission\nto drink water; and this is how you treat the holy Fakir, and break\nyour promise to return without doing him any harm! You shall now be\ngiven a certain seed to eat which will entirely destroy your body,\nand you will die in agonies.\"\n\nThe other snake replied: \"You miser! You 'dog in the manger,' who\nlive over a mound beneath which lies vast treasures and priceless\njewels! You know that you cannot use them yourself, and yet you will\nallow nobody else to touch them! Your end will be that a woman will\nkill you by pouring boiling milk and butter over you.\"\n\nThe young wife heard these two snakes denouncing each other, and\ndetermined to act upon what she had overheard. When leaving her\nfather's house, she had managed to hide on her person a small pearl\nring, and this she now pawned for a small sum of money, and purchased\nmilk and butter.\n\nWarming these to boiling point, she went over at midday and poured\nthem into the snake's hole in the mound.\n\nShe also sought the seed, which would kill the snake her husband had\nswallowed, and gave it to him to eat.\n\nThus both snakes were killed, and all danger from them ceased to exist.\n\nVickramadit, after the destruction of the snake, improved rapidly,\nand soon regained his health and strength.\n\nThe young wife now turned her attention to the mound of earth,\nbeneath which lay buried treasures.\n\nShe employed a few men to dig, and they soon unearthed several ghurras,\nor earthen vessels, full of priceless gems.\n\nWith these she went away, and very soon founded a great city, over\nwhich she made her lord King.\n\nThus Vickramadit once more reigned a King; and no Queen was more\nfamous than the young Princess who had been so cruelly cast adrift\nby her father.\n\nThe old father heard of this new King, and of all the riches and\nsplendour of his Court and Queen; and he sent men to enquire if it\nwere true that his daughter was really as great as people reported.\n\nThe men returned and said: \"O King, her riches, the magnificence\nof her Court and Palace, surpass all we have heard; she is indeed a\ngreat Queen, and has founded a mighty city.\"\n\nThe King then owned his mistake, and said: \"My daughter was right\nwhen she said her greatness was due more to her individual luck than\nto the mere fact that she happened to be born my daughter; for has\nshe not, in spite of all my ill-treatment of her, risen to be Queen,\nnot of a small kingdom such as mine, but of a world-renowned kingdom.\"\n\n\n\nMoral.--Thy kismet is thy fate; when that is good, then the most\nunfavourable circumstances, or the deepest gloom, cannot prevent its\nasserting itself.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE WEAVER\n\n\nThere was a weaver who was unmarried, and all that he could earn in\na day, in exchange for the cloth he wove, only amounted to two pounds\nof either rice or other grain.\n\nOne day he cooked some kitcherie, [1] and, placing it in a plate,\nleft it to get cool, and went out to sell his cloth.\n\nWhile he was away a jackal came and ate up the kitcherie; and on his\nreturn he found the jackal, so he tied it up and beat it severely.\n\nThen he cooked some bread, which he ate, and again beat the jackal.\n\nThe poor creature thought: \"Now my life will go, if this man keeps\non beating me in this way.\"\n\nWhen the man next went out to dispose of his cloth, the jackal,\ntied up by itself, felt very lonely, especially as it could hear\nits companions howling in the jungles; so it began to howl too, and,\nhearing it, one of its friends came to see where it was, and finding\nit, said: \"Brother, what are you doing here?\"\n\nThe poor jackal, bruised all over and swollen with the beating it\nhad received, replied: \"Friend, a man has caught me, and takes the\ngreatest care of me; see how fat I have grown with eating all the\nhulwa-poories [2] he gives me. If you will release me, I will tie\nyou here, and you will get a share of the good things.\"\n\nSo the two exchanged places, and the first jackal ran back gladly\ninto the jungles.\n\nOn the return of the weaver he, as usual, began to beat the poor\ncreature, who then spoke, and said: \"Why are you beating me?\"\n\nThe weaver, surprised, replied: \"I have never heard this jackal\nspeak before!\"\n\n\"That one has gone, and he tied me here in his place, and told me I\nshould get all sorts of good things to eat; but if you will release\nme, I will arrange a marriage with a King's daughter for you.\"\n\n\"What!\" said the man, \"I am only a poor weaver, and can you really\nget me married to a King's daughter?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" returned the jackal.\n\nSo the weaver released it, and turning itself into a Brahmin, it\ncrossed the river and presented itself at the court of a certain Rajah,\nto whom it said: \"O King, I have found a rich weaver-caste Rajah,\nwho wishes your daughter's hand in marriage.\"\n\nThe Rajah, much pleased, consented, and the Brahmin, on getting outside\nthe Palace, once more turned into a jackal, and returned to the weaver.\n\n\"Follow me,\" said he, \"and I will take you to the King's daughter.\"\n\nSo the weaver took up his blanket, which was all he possessed.\n\nOn their way they met a Dhobie, or washerman, carrying his bundle\nof clothes. The jackal gave him a gold mohur, and told him to spread\nall the clean clothes he possessed upon the trees around.\n\nFurther on they met a cotton-beater, or man who, in the East, beats\ncotton and prepares it to make up into pillows and quilts; to him\nthey also gave a gold mohur, and asked in return for several large\nballs of cotton.\n\nThese they carried on a large plate to the river; and the jackal,\nleaving the weaver, returned as a Brahmin to the Rajah, who had seen\nthe Dhobie's clothes in the distance, and thought they were tents\npitched by his daughter's future husband.\n\nThe jackal had told the weaver to watch, and, as soon as he saw him\nenter the Palace, he was to take large lumps of cotton and throw them\none by one into the river, so that they might be seen floating down\nthe stream.\n\n\"The Bridegroom,\" explained the Brahmin, \"has met with a terrible\naccident; all his possessions and his followers are lost in the river,\nand only he and I remain, dressed in the clothes in which we stand.\"\n\nThen the Rajah ordered his musicians and followers to come out, and\ngo with horses in great pomp to bring the weaver, who was forthwith\nmarried to the Princess.\n\nAfter the marriage the Brahmin said: \"This son-in-law of yours has\nlost all he had; what is the use of his returning to his country? Let\nhim stay here with you.\"\n\nTo this the Rajah, who loved his daughter, gladly consented, and gave\nthem a fine house and grounds.\n\nNow the weaver, who was not accustomed to good society, or to living\nwith those above his station in life, made a salaam, or obeisance,\nsuch as a poor man is wont to do, to his wife every morning, and\nshe began to suspect that he had deceived her, and was not a real\nRajah. So she asked him one day to tell her the whole truth about\nhimself, and he did so.\n\n\"Well,\" said she, \"you have owned it to me, but do not let my father\nor mother know; for now that I am married to you, things cannot be\naltered, and it is better that they should remain in ignorance; but\nwhatever my father may ask you to do, promise me that you will do it,\nalways answering 'Yes, I will,' to anything he may suggest.\"\n\nTo this the weaver agreed; and shortly afterwards the Rajah called\nhim and enquired if he was willing to help him, and, as promised,\nthe man replied, \"Yes, I will.\" Then he went to his wife and told her,\nand she commended him.\n\nNext day the King told him that two brothers, by name \"Darya\" and\n\"Barjo,\" threatened to fight and take his kingdom from him, and he\ndesired his son-in-law to go to the stables and select a horse on\nwhich to ride on the morrow to battle.\n\nIn the stables was a horse that was standing on three legs. \"This,\"\nthought the weaver, \"will just suit me, for it seems lame and has only\nthree legs to go on, and making this an excuse, I'll keep behind all\nthe rest, and out of danger.\"\n\nNow this horse [3] used to eat a quarter of a pound of opium daily,\nand could fly through the air, so that when the Rajah heard of the\nselection he was very delighted, and said to himself: \"What a clever\nman this is, that he is able to discover which is the best horse!\"\n\nThe day following he had the horse brought round, and mounted it in\nfear and trembling, having himself securely tied on lest he should\nfall off, while, to weight himself equally, he fastened a small\nmillstone on either side.\n\nAs soon as the groom released the horse, it flew up into the air, then\ndown again, and then up through the branches of trees, which broke\noff and clung to the weaver's arms and body, so that he presented\na strange spectacle. He was terrified, and kept on crying out:\n\"O Darya! Barjo! for your sakes have I come to my death.\"\n\nThe two Princes, Darya and Barjo, seeing this strange horse flying\nthrough the air, and hearing their names coming from a queer object all\ncovered with branches of trees, were very much alarmed, and said: \"If\nmore come like this, we shall indeed be lost; one is enough for us.\"\n\nSo they wrote to the King, and said: \"We have seen your warrior;\nstay in your country, and we will stay in ours: we cannot fight.\"\n\nAnd they sent him a peace-offering.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE DOG WHO WAS A RAJAH\n\n\nA daughter was once born to a Brahmin and his wife, and from the day\nof its birth a dog came daily and laid down in the house.\n\nThis made the mother say, in jest, when the child would not cease\ncrying: \"Stop, or I shall give you to the dog.\"\n\nAnd the Brahmin added: \"I will give her to the dog when she is\ngrown up.\"\n\nWhen the girl grew up, he said to the dog one day, in a fit of temper:\n\"Here, take my daughter, and do as you wish with her.\"\n\nThe mother now regretted her jest, which had suggested this idea to\nher husband, and said: \"Here, my child, take this handful of seeds,\nand, as you go, strew them along the road, so that I may know where\nto find you.\"\n\nAs the girl went along she scattered the seeds, and at last she arrived\nat a field in which was a small baoli, or well. Here she sat down,\nand told the dog she was thirsty.\n\n\"Go and drink from the well,\" said the dog.\n\nAs she approached the dog followed her, and they saw a ladder leading\nto the bottom of the well, so that they climbed down and came to a\nfine house with lovely gardens and flowers, and servants ready to\nreceive them. These belonged to the dog, who was in reality a Rajah,\nand only assumed the shape of a dog when he left the well.\n\nSome time after this the Brahmin expressed a wish to go and visit\nhis daughter. So his wife told him to follow the track of any freshly\nsprung-up little plants he might see.\n\nHe followed out her directions, and found the small trees led to\nthe well; and as he felt thirsty, he looked in and saw the ladder;\nso he descended by it, and found the dog had become a Rajah.\n\nGoing round the grounds with his daughter, he noticed a house made\nof gold. \"What is this?\" asked he.\n\n\"It is for you, my father.\"\n\nSo he went in and found everything perfect, except that in one of\nthe walls was a great crack.\n\n\"That crack,\" explained the Rajah, who had joined them, \"was caused\nwhen you first drank water at the well; and it will remain there until\nyou undo the wrong you did your daughter in giving her to a dog,\nfor you did not then know who he really was. To undo the wrong you\nmust serve me as my cowherd for twelve years, after which time the\ncrack in the wall will close up of its own accord.\"\n\nThe Brahmin then went to his wife and told her all that had happened;\nand they returned together to the Rajah, whose cows he tended for\ntwelve years, after which the crack in the golden wall came together\nof itself; and thus the wrong was righted.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOURTH WIFE IS THE WISEST\n\n\nThere was a Bunniah who had an only son, who had married four wives;\nof these, three were fools, and only one was wise.\n\nFor some reason the Rajah of that country got angry with the Bunniah,\nand said that he and all his family were to go away, for he would\nnot permit them to remain in his kingdom any longer; also, they were\nnot to take away any of their jewels or possessions with them, except\nsuch things as they were wearing at the time.\n\nHearing this, the youngest of the four wives asked if she might be\nallowed to bake some bread, to take for them to eat on the journey.\n\nThis was permitted, and, in kneading the flour, she dropped four\nvery valuable and beautiful rubies into it, and then having cooked\nthe bread, showed it to the people as she left, and said: \"See,\nI take nothing with me except this bread.\"\n\nThey journeyed far away into another country, and were very poor. Then\nthe Bunniah said to his youngest daughter-in-law: \"Daughter, what\nare we to do to live? We have no money and no clothes.\"\n\nShe was silent for a long time, and then said: \"We must sell our\njewels, but in the meantime take this\"--giving him one of the\nrubies--\"and sell it.\"\n\nNow this ruby was worth a very great deal of money, and the Bunniah\ntook it gratefully, thinking all the time what a wise girl his\ndaughter-in-law was, to think of bringing it as she had done.\n\nHe then went to a rich merchant, who in reality was not a merchant at\nall, but a clever thief, and who, as soon as he set eyes on the ruby,\nknew it to be a valuable one, and determined to have it.\n\n\"Go,\" said he to one of his servants, \"and bring me a basket full of\nmoney that I may pay for this valuable stone;\" and as the servant\nleft, he turned to the Bunniah, offering him a chair, and said:\n\"Sit down, friend.\"\n\nNow this chair was a specially prepared one, being kept by the thief\nas a trap for the unwary. The seat was of raw cotton, under which was\na great hole into which anybody who sat on the chair would fall. It\nwas carefully covered over with a piece of clean white cloth, so that\nnothing was noticed.\n\nOn it the poor Bunniah sat, and as the soft cotton gave way under him,\nhe found himself in the hole, over which the thief carefully placed\na great stone and left him, while he quietly pocketed the ruby.\n\nAs the Bunniah did not return to his home for many days, his\ndaughter-in-law called her husband, and gave him the second ruby. \"Go,\nseek thy father,\" said she; \"and if you find him, bring me back this\nruby, and buy food and clothes with one you will find with him.\"\n\nThe young man searched high and low for his father, but, not finding\nhim, he decided to sell his ruby, and by ill chance went to the same\nmerchant who had robbed the Bunniah.\n\nThe thief treated him in exactly the same way, and, after having\nstolen the ruby, trapped him into the same hole as his father.\n\nFinding that neither husband nor father returned, the woman sold her\njewels, and bought clothes and food for the rest of the family; but for\nherself she secretly bought the outfit of a policeman, or chowkidar,\nand resolved to work in that capacity. So she presented herself at\nthe King's Court, and he, taking a fancy to the handsome face of the\nyoung man (for she was disguised as such), gave her employment.\n\nLiving in the jungles near that place was a terrible \"Rakhas,\" or evil\nspirit, and that night, while on duty, the new policeman was startled\nby a roar like that of a tiger; but as soon as the \"Rakhas\" perceived\nhim, it assumed the form of a woman, and coming up, said weeping:\n\"The Rajah has hanged my husband, and I wish to see him once more,\nbut cannot reach because the gallows are high.\"\n\n\"Climb upon my back,\" said the policeman.\n\nThe woman did so, but as soon as she got near enough she began to\neat her supposed husband.\n\nOn this the young policeman, drawing his sword, cut off the woman's\nhead, and as she fell, being enchanted, she disappeared, but a silver\nanklet from one of her feet was left behind.\n\nNext morning the policeman carried the anklet to the King, and told\nhim what had happened, and how the strange woman had disappeared as\nhe struck her with his sword.\n\nThe King was much pleased at the youth's bravery, and also with the\nsilver anklet, which was full of precious stones of great value,\nand, turning to the policeman, he said: \"Ask what you will, and I\nwill give it to you, even if you ask my daughter in marriage.\"\n\nThe man replied: \"O King, I ask nothing; but grant me, I pray you,\ncontrol over the entire bazaar, that I may kill, banish, hang, or\nrelease, and do as I like with the people who dwell there.\"\n\nThe King granted this request, and having discovered the thief in the\nsupposed merchant, the policeman went to him and boldly demanded the\nrelease of his father and son.\n\nBut the thief denied all knowledge of the affair.\n\nThen the young man entered the shop, and, lifting up the great stone,\nbeheld the two unfortunate men, who were nearly starved to death.\n\nHaving released them, he took the thief to the King, and told him\nwhat had happened. After they had hanged the wicked thief, the young\npoliceman changed his clothes and appeared as a woman.\n\nThe King was greatly surprised, but so pleased at all she had done,\nthat he called her his \"daughter,\" and gave her husband, father, and\nother relations money and goods, so that they lived in contentment\nfor the rest of their lives.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF PIR SAB\n\n\nVery, very far away in the north of India is a big river, and many\nyears ago there lived, not very far from its banks, an old woman\nwho had an only daughter--a beautiful girl, who, when she grew up,\nwas given in marriage to a man who lived in a village on the opposite\nbank of the river; and all preliminaries being arranged, a day was\nfixed for the marriage party with the bride to cross over.\n\nA gay company with songs and music set out, and everything went well\nuntil they reached the middle of the stream. The current is strong\nand dangerous in that place, and in less time than it takes to say\nit, the joyous party, with its music and songs and drummers, and\nthe litter which held the bride, was hurled into the seething water,\nand every soul sank and was drowned.\n\nThe old woman alone, who had remained at home on account of her feeble\nage, escaped, and sad indeed was she when she came to hear of her\ndaughter's fate.\n\nHer own home grew lonely and uncongenial to her, so, in a half-frenzied\nstate, she betook herself to the river side, and there spent many\nhours every day calling to the river to give up her dead.\n\nThis went on for twenty years! One day Pir Sab, a pious Mahamedan,\narrived there, and was about to say his prayers when the old woman\nattracted his attention.\n\n\"Pray, why do you weep, old woman?\" he said.\n\n\"For my child, a beautiful bride who, with all her wedding guests,\nwas drowned in this river twenty years ago.\"\n\n\"Twenty years! and you have mourned so long?\" Thus saying, Pir Sab\ndismounted from his horse, and covering his head with a sheet, he\nstood by the river and cried: \"O river, restore the dead! O river,\nrestore the dead! O river, restore the dead!\"\n\nAt the third cry a bridal party was seen to approach, and the long-lost\nones, with the young bride, were restored to the old woman as unchanged\nas upon the day they were drowned, and in perfect ignorance of the\nflight of years.\n\nA voice was then heard from the Great Unseen, which said: \"O Pir\nSab, I have heard your prayer. At your first cry these restored ones\ncame forth from the fishes, who had eaten them; at your second call\nI re-formed them into human form; and at your third call they went\nforth with life.\"\n\nNow, who was Pir Sab, and how did he possess this power?\n\nMahamed, when he was upon earth, sometimes took flights into Heaven. On\nsuch occasions he generally called on anybody near at hand to assist\nhim up, or give him a push upwards. On one occasion he had called\nthrice for help without meeting with any response, when Pir Sab, a\nstrong man, knelt before him, and with one spring from his shoulder,\nMahamed reached the fourth Heavens!\n\nIn return for this kindness it was granted to Pir Sab to perform\nmiracles.\n\n\n\nNote.--The man who related this story to me added the following\nmodern miracle:\n\n\"During the late Chitral expedition there was with Umra Khan's forces a\nremarkable man, the son of one Akhum Sab, who died some years ago. Now\nAkhum Sab was a devout man, who never failed to pray every Friday,\nas all good Mahamedans do, with their faces turned towards Mecca,\nthe holy city, which is four months' journey from the north of India,\nso that many who wish to visit it cannot. Yet this man used to enter\nhis room, and close the door at two o'clock daily, and come out after\nseven minutes (you may believe me or not); but, during those seven\nminutes, he went to Mecca, said his prayers in the holy Mosque there,\nand returned! This he did every Friday; I have seen it with my own\neyes!\"--A.E.D.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE ORIGIN OF A RIVER\n\n\nThere stands on the old Agra Bombay Road, between Goona in Central\nIndia and Jhansi, a small village beside a stream, and this used to\nbe a bathing stage for travellers in the old days, before railways\nwere known in India.\n\nIn the village there once lived a man whose wife died, leaving an\nonly daughter. The girl, as she grew to womanhood, had a very bad\ntime of it, as all the housework fell upon her shoulders. She had\nto cook her father's food and carry it to him in the fields; to draw\nwater for the cattle and look after them, besides many other things\nwhich took up her time and strength.\n\nSo she invoked the aid of the Gods.\n\nNext time she went to draw water from the well, which was a very deep\none, and required a long, long string for the bucket, she looked in,\nand lo! the water had risen to the top, and was almost overflowing,\nso that there was no need to draw any; and her father's cattle stood\nround and drank their fill.\n\nThen she filled her chattie with water, and enjoyed a bath in the\nsunshine.\n\nAfter a time the water sank to its usual level. Thus far all was well,\nbut her father noticed how quickly the cattle had been watered, and how\nsoon his daughter returned home: also he missed the long rope which\nshe always carried on her arm. He began to suspect that some unknown\nman, a stranger to himself, used to help her, and determined to watch.\n\nA great fig tree grew beside the well; and one day he concealed\nhimself in its branches.\n\nAs usual, his daughter came with the cattle, and all happened as\nbefore. He was struck with wonder and amazement at what he saw.\n\nJust as the girl was about to take her usual bath, she looked up and\nsaw him.\n\nIn a moment she felt that he had suspected her of some evil. \"Father,\"\ncried she, \"why do you look with an evil eye on your child? Do you\nnot believe that the Gods have helped her?\"\n\nBut before her father could reply, she sank down to the bottom of the\nwell with the water and never rose again, for the outraged Gods took\nher to themselves; and, in token of their displeasure, the well was\ncleft from top to bottom, and hillocks formed on either side. From\nthis spot flows a tiny stream, which, if you follow it, becomes a\nmighty river.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOLDEN SCORPIONS\n\n\nThere once lived in a certain village a poor man who went out daily\nto beg, carrying in his hand a small vessel made from a gourd, such\nas the Jogis, or holy Fakirs, in India use.\n\nIn it he carried home his scanty meal of flour each evening.\n\nOne day he placed the gourd, which was empty at the time, upon the\nground, and went to some little distance to drink water.\n\nOn his return he was amazed to find it full of scorpions.\n\nSeizing it on one side, he carefully knocked it against a stone until\nthe venomous things dropped off.\n\nGreat indeed was his surprise to find when he next looked into\nhis gourd, that several scorpions still clung to it, but had been\ntransformed by the Gods into pure gold, although their forms were\nretained.\n\nThus the good old man was enriched, but great was his disappointment\nwhen he remembered how many scorpions he had thrown away, for these\nmight also have turned into gold had he kept them.\n\n\n\nMoral.--There is good sometimes in even the evil things in life.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF A PEARL\n\n\nA poor workman and his wife were once almost starving. Every day the\nman gathered sticks and sold them, while the woman remained at home.\n\n\"Wife,\" said the man one day, \"come, we will both go and gather wood\nfor sale to-day, so that, if we earn enough, we shall not eat rice\nonly, but will buy a small fish, and eat that also.\"\n\nThe woman agreed, and having sold their stock of firewood, they\nreturned home with a fish for dinner.\n\nOn opening it, a small white bead, round and shining, fell upon the\nfloor. The woman was attracted by its brightness, and locked it up\nin a box.\n\nMany days of poverty and hunger visited that household before the woman\nremembered the pretty stone found in the fish; but at last she thought\nof it, and took it to a Bunniah, who, as soon as he set eyes upon it,\nsaid: \"Give me that, and I will give you as much as you can carry\naway of ghee and food and oil, not only to-day, but for many days,\nif you will come to my shop.\"\n\nThe foolish woman parted with her treasure, not knowing that it was\na pearl of great value, and returned home laden with good things.\n\nThe Bunniah chuckled with delight. He was crafty, like all Bunniahs,\nand, you may depend, never kept his promise: such was the foolishness\nof the woman, and such the cunning and greed of the man.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE BUNNIAH'S GHOST\n\n\nFar away in a valley in the Himalayan mountains lies a little village,\nwhere once lived a good man who had his home beside a field in which\ngrew a beautiful mulberry tree--so big and so beautiful that it was\nthe wonder of the country round.\n\nHundreds of people were wont to gather together beneath it, and the\npoor carried away basket loads of its fruit. Thus it became a meeting\nplace where a mela, or fair, was held when the fruit season was on.\n\nNow the fame of it reached a certain Rajah who had rented out the land,\nand one day he came with all his retinue to see it.\n\n\"There is no such tree in the Royal Gardens,\" said the Grand Vizier.\n\n\"It is not meet that a subject should possess what the Rajah hath not,\"\nadded the Prime Minister.\n\nThe Rajah replied not a word, for his heart was filled with envy; and\nthat night, before going to bed, he gave orders that, on a certain\nday, in the early dawn, before anybody was astir, a party of armed\nmen should take their axes to the village, and fell the mulberry\ntree even with the ground. But ill dreams disturbed the Rajah's rest,\nand he could not sleep.\n\nCould it be fancy, or did he really see a strange man standing\nbefore him?\n\nThe strange man spoke: \"O King, live for ever! I am the spirit\nof a Bunniah (or merchant) who died in yonder village many years\nago. During my lifetime I defrauded the people. I gave them short\nmeasure and adulterated their food.\n\n\"When I died and passed into the Land of Unhappy Spirits, the Gods,\nwho are just, O King! decreed that I should give back what I had\nstolen. My soul therefore went into a mulberry tree, where year after\nyear the people gather fruit, and regain their losses.\n\n\"In one year more they will be repaid to the uttermost cowrie;\n[4] but you mean to destroy the tree and drive my soul I know not\nwhither. Wherefore have I come to plead with you to spare it this\nonce, for when a year is past it will die of itself and my soul find\nits way to that Land of Shadows which is the abode of the Gods--where\nit will find peace.\"\n\nSo the Rajah listened, and the strange man went away.\n\nFor one year longer the people sat as before under the cool shadow\nof the mulberry tree, and then it died. And was that all?\n\nNo: when they cut it down there was found deep in the earth one living\nroot, and that they left, for who can destroy the soul?\n\n\n\nHindu Proverb.--\"P\u00fcn ki jar sada hari.\" (The roots of charity are\nalways green.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nBICKERMANJI THE INQUISITIVE\n\n\nThere was a certain Rajah whose name was Bickermanji. He was very\ninquisitive, and always wished to know everything that was going on\nin his kingdom, and what his subjects were doing.\n\nAt night he disguised himself in common clothes and a blanket, and\nwalked quietly in the streets and bazaars to spy on the people. Next\nday, when complaints were brought to him of the doings of this or\nthat person, he knew all about it.\n\nIn this way he observed that a certain woman, the wife of a Sowcar,\nor Bunniah, used to leave her home every night, carrying a ghurra, or\nchattie, on her head and some food in her hand. Arrived at the river,\nshe floated the chattie, and sat upon it, thus getting a passage to\nthe other side, where she visited a certain Fakir.\n\nIn the early morning she returned, carrying the chattie full of water\nfor the day's use; and this being an everyday custom with native\nwomen in the East, it was never suspected that she had spent nearly\nthe whole night away from her home. Bickermanji observed all this,\nand wondered to himself how the matter would end.\n\nOne day the woman's husband, who had been away in another country,\nreturned, so she had to attend to his food, and could not get away\nas early as usual to carry dainty dishes to the Fakir, who was very\nangry when she arrived late, and made her excuses on account of her\nhusband's arrival.\n\n\"What do I care for your husband?\" said the Fakir. \"Is he better than\na holy mendicant? Go this moment and bring me his head.\"\n\nThis she did, much to the Fakir's surprise; but, instead of being\npleased at her obedience to his wishes, he was angry, and said:\n\"If you killed your husband, you will one day kill me also.\"\n\nSo he drove her from his presence, and she returned to her own home,\nwhere, taking her husband's head upon her knee, she set up a great\nweeping and lamentation, which attracted all her neighbours and\nbrought them together.\n\n\"My husband had only just returned from a journey, bringing money; and\nsee, thieves have stolen his money, and murdered him during the night.\"\n\nHer neighbours believed this, and prepared to carry her husband to\nthe burning gh\u00e2t, for he was a Hindoo. While they did this, the woman\ndeclared that she would follow, and perform the sacred rite of suttee,\nor being burnt upon her husband's funeral pyre.\n\nAlthough impressed by her supposed devotion to her husband, her\nfriends wrote to Bickermanji, and begged him to prevent her.\n\nBickermanji knew all that had really happened, and meant to show his\nown wisdom and the woman's crime, also to punish her as he thought\nbest. So he promptly forbade the suttee.\n\nThe widow then wrote to Rajah Bickermanji's stepmother, a very\nclever woman, and asked her to intercede, that she might die with her\nhusband. Then his stepmother said: \"My son, allow this suttee to take\nplace, and within eight days I will give you my reasons.\"\n\nThis aroused the curiosity of his nature, and, much against his will,\nhe consented; so the woman had her own way.\n\nHe waited impatiently for the eight days to be over, and then went\nto his stepmother, who ordered a dooly, and, taking with her a goat,\nasked him to accompany her to the nearest temple. Arrived there,\nshe asked him to stand at the door, and left the goat outside.\n\n\"If, when I come to the door, I say 'kill,' you are to kill the goat,\nbut if not, stand where you are,\" were the old woman's instructions\nas she went to make her offering of fruit and flowers and sweets.\n\nSoon she returned, and said: \"Kill,\" so Bickermanji cut off the head\nof the goat. \"Sit upon the head, my son.\"\n\nAnd he did as he was told, but no sooner had he done so, when the\nhead rose up into the air with him, away through space for hundreds of\nmiles, until he came to a wall which surrounded a space twelve miles\nsquare. In this was a garden and beautiful house; and after wandering\nsome little time, Bickermanji found water and food, a comfortable\ncouch to lie upon, and a hookah, or native pipe, to smoke, but not\na human being was anywhere to be seen. This puzzled him, but as he\nwas both hungry and tired, he made a good meal, smoked his hookah,\nand laid down to sleep.\n\n\"If I sleep, I sleep, if I die, I die; a man can but die once.\"\n\nNow the place belonged to a purree, or winged fairy being, who used\nto come to it during the night, and remain away all day. The servants\ncame an hour or two beforehand just to see everything was comfortable;\nand when they found Bickermanji lying fast asleep, they wished to\nkill him, but an old woman interceded on his behalf, so they let him\nalone until the purree came.\n\nBickermanji was greatly surprised to see a strange winged being\nstanding before him, and expected immediate death; but the Strange\nOne spoke kindly, and begged him not to fear, but to make the place\nhis home for as long as he liked.\n\nEach day passed by quietly, and in the pleasures and ease of his\npresent existence, Bickermanji soon forgot his kingdom, his wife,\nand his children.\n\nBefore going away one morning the purree said: \"There are four rooms\nin this house which you must never open; I will point them out to you,\nbut, for the rest, you may use them as you will.\"\n\nThis request at once excited Bickermanji's old spirit of curiosity;\nand, as soon as he found himself alone, he went quickly to the door\nof the first room and opened it.\n\nWithin stood a horse, which turned gladly towards him, and said:\n\"I have not seen the light of day, or had an hour's freedom, ever\nsince I was given to the fairy by Rajah Sudra. If you will take me\nout, I will show you all the world, and even the secret place where\nthe fairies dance.\"\n\nBickermanji was delighted, and immediately led out the horse, which\nhe saddled, mounted, and rode for a wonderful and delightful ride.\n\nIn the evening the fairy, or purree, again warned him against opening\nany of the four forbidden doors; but the very next day he opened the\nsecond one, and there found a large elephant chained up.\n\nThe elephant complained bitterly of its fate, and begged Bickermanji\nto pity it, and take it out, which, if he did, it would in return\nshow him much that was wonderful in the world; so Bickermanji again\nhad a very interesting day.\n\nOn the morning following he opened the third door and found a camel\ninside. It too took him to all sorts of new and interesting places\nwhich were the haunts of fairy beings.\n\nNow only one door was left, and Bickermanji determined to open that\nalso; and when he did, he beheld a donkey, standing inside. The\ndonkey complained just as the other animals had done, and begged\nfor its release; but as Bickermanji mounted it for his usual ride,\nhe found himself back in his old kingdom.\n\n\"My back aches,\" said the donkey; \"leave me a while to rest, and go\nyou, in the meantime, to the nearest bazaar for food. When you return\nyou will find me here.\"\n\nBut when Bickermanji returned there was no donkey to be seen; so he\ntore his hair and wept bitterly, asking all the passers-by if any of\nthem had seen his ghuddee, or donkey.\n\nMany of the inhabitants of the town recognised him, and said:\n\"Our Rajah has come back, and is asking for his ghuddee,\" which,\nin Hindustanee, means \"throne\" as well as \"donkey.\"\n\nAt last his stepmother heard of his return, and sent for him. He told\nher that he would give anything to be able to return to the place\nfrom which the donkey had brought him.\n\n\"Was it not I who sent you there,\" she replied, \"and could not I send\nyou back again? What are you willing to do in order to return? Are\nyou willing to slay your own son to go?\"\n\n\"Yes, I would even do that.\"\n\n\"Well, come with me as before to the temple, only, instead of a goat,\ntake your son with you, and a sword. When I say 'kill' you must kill,\nbut not before.\"\n\nSo the three went to the temple, and the stepmother stood in the\ndoorway and cried \"Kill\"; but before the Rajah could raise his sword\nshe rushed forward and seized it.\n\n\"Stop! do not kill your son. Do you remember the suttee, and how\nyou judged her and wished to punish her for killing her husband on\naccount of a friend, and now you would kill your own son for the\nsake of pleasure! All that has happened has been done to teach you\na lesson; go you to your Palace, and there reign with greater wisdom\nthan before.\"\n\n\n\nMoral.--\"Judge not, that ye be not judged.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE BRAHMIN'S DAUGHTER\n\n\nA certain Brahmin's wife had no affection for her seven stepdaughters,\nand persuaded their father to get rid of them. So he invited the\ngirls to come with him on a visit to their grandmother, but on the\nway he slipped away quietly and left them eating plums in the jungle.\n\nAfter a while they found themselves all alone, and as night fell were\nvery frightened, and hid themselves in the hollow of a large tree. Here\na tiger found them and ate six, leaving only the youngest sister alive.\n\nShe hid in the tree for several days, and at last a Rajah found her,\nand asked how she had got there. Then she told him the whole story,\nand he felt pity for her and married her.\n\nBut she often wondered what had become of her father, and whether he\nwas alive or dead; and when she remembered the fate of her sisters,\nshe secretly made up her mind to be revenged on her stepmother.\n\nThen she called a crow, and asked it if it would go to her former\nhome with a letter from her. In the letter she told her father of\nher sisters' fate and of her own good fortune.\n\nThe crow carried the news to her father, and, greatly surprised,\nhe read the contents of his daughter's letter to his wife.\n\nThe woman was mercenary as well as cruel, and advised him to lose no\ntime in visiting her, and bringing back all the money he could secure.\n\nSo the Brahmin went and spent eight or nine days in the Palace.\n\nAs he was preparing to return home, the girl called him, and gave\nhim a box containing a snake, a scorpion, and a wasp; and as it was\nsecurely locked, he had no suspicion of its contents.\n\n\"Take this,\" she said, \"and give it with the key to my mother; let\nher be alone in her room when she receives it, so that she may enjoy\nmy gifts by herself.\"\n\nThen she gave him another box full of clothes and jewels and money\nfor himself.\n\nAfter a long journey, the Brahmin arrived at his home, and said to his\nwife: \"This box is for me, and this one for you; keep it carefully,\nand open it when you are alone; here is the key.\" So saying he went\nout, shut the door, and put on the chain.\n\nSoon the woman began to cry: \"I'm bitten, I'm bitten!\" but he mistook\nit for \"I've eaten, I've eaten!\" meaning that he should come and\nshare the feast. So he replied: \"I've had my share, you eat what is\nyour own share.\"\n\nWhen he opened the door, he found her dead, so he packed up his things\nand returned to his daughter, and lived happily ever after.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nABUL HUSSAIN\n\n\nThere was a man called Abul Hussain who was once very rich, but had\nbeen so foolish in entertaining all his friends that he lost all his\nmoney, and became very poor.\n\nHe and his old mother lived together, and sometimes, when he felt\nlonely, he would walk out and call in two or three men, any passing\nstrangers whom he chanced to meet, and ask them to come in and have a\ntalk and smoke with him. When they left his house, he never expected\nto see them again.\n\nOn one occasion he accosted a man dressed in plain clothes, who,\nwith two others, was taking a stroll, and said: \"Friend, come in and\nhave a chat with me.\"\n\nThe man--who was really the King--with his two followers, went in; and,\nafter they had talked some time and made merry over wine, Abul said:\n\"I should like to exchange places with the King for just one day.\"\n\n\"Why?\" asked the King.\n\n\"Because the Priest who prays in the Musjid here, and his four friends,\nare very wicked men, and I should like to have them killed.\"\n\nThe King, while talking, took out some powder which had the effect\nof putting a person to sleep, and secretly dropped it into the wine\nAbul was drinking. Shortly afterwards Abul fell into a deep sleep.\n\nThe King then said to his servants: \"Remove this man and take him\nto my Palace; change his clothes for some of mine, place him in my\nbed, and, until I give further orders, recognise him as your King,\nand let him use as much money as he likes.\"\n\nThe servants did as he told them, took up the sleeping man and put\nhim to bed in the King's Palace.\n\nEarly next morning the servants came to wake Abul, and said: \"Will\nYour Majesty rise this morning?\"\n\nAbul rubbed his eyes and looked, and behold, he was in a King's room\nand the King's servant was addressing him! He saw his clothes, and\nwondered who he was, and what had happened: then he turned to the\nman and said: \"Who am I?\"\n\nThe man replied: \"You are our King.\"\n\n\"Am I?\" returned the puzzled Abul, and, rising, he heard strains of\nmusic, and knew that the band was playing, as it always does on the\nawaking of a King in the morning.\n\nHe washed and dressed and went with his Vizier to hold court. While\nthere, he said to his courtiers: \"There is a man living in a certain\nhouse, and his name is Abul, I want you to take to his mother a bag\nof a thousand rupees. Also go to the Musjid; catch the old Priest,\ngive him one hundred stripes, put him and his four friends on donkeys,\nand drive them out of the city.\"\n\nAll day Abul reigned as King, but when night came, the servants,\nwho had been instructed what to do by the real King, once more put\nsleeping powder into his wine, and while he slept removed him to his\nown home, and put him into his own bed again.\n\nWhen he awoke there in the morning he called to his servants, but no\none answered, except his old mother, who came and stood beside him.\n\n\"Why do you call your servants?\" she asked.\n\n\"Because I am a King,\" he replied. \"Who are you?\"\n\n\"I am your mother, my son, and think you must be dreaming. If the\nKing hears about this he will be so angry that perhaps he will have\nyou killed. You are only the son of a poor man; and do not vex the\nKing, for he has been very good, and sent us a present of a thousand\nrupees yesterday.\"\n\nAbul, however, would not listen, but kept on insisting that he was\nKing, so at last the King had him locked up in prison, declaring that\nhe must be mad. There he was kept until he ceased to say that he was\nKing, and then he was released.\n\nOn his return home, he once more invited some strange men, and, as\nbefore, the King was amongst them, and again surreptitiously put the\nsleeping powder into Abul's wine, and caused him to be removed and\nput into his Palace on his bed while he was unconscious.\n\nNext morning on waking Abul felt sure that it must be a dream this\ntime, and he kept rubbing his eyes and asking the servants who he\nwas. The servants replied: \"Why, you are our King.\"\n\nAbul was more than puzzled, and, pointing to his arms, which still\nbore the marks of bruises from stripes received in prison, said:\n\"If I am really the King, why have I these bruises? I have been put\nin prison, and these are the marks where I was beaten.\"\n\nBut the servant said: \"Your Majesty is dreaming; you are a King,\nand a very great King.\"\n\nOn this Abul got up, and hearing the strains of music, he was so\ndelighted at his lucky position that he began to dance about the room,\nwhile the King, who was peeping from a doorway, stood and laughed\nso much that he was almost choked. At last, being unable to restrain\nhimself longer, he called out: \"O Abul, do you wish to kill me with\nlaughter?\"\n\nOn this Abul discovered that the King had been playing a practical\njoke on him, and he said: \"O King, you have given me much misery.\"\n\n\"Have I?\" said the King. \"Well, as much misery as I have given you,\nso much pleasure shall you now have;\" and he gave him a present\nof heaps of money and a beautiful wife, sending him away with the\nassurance that he would never be poor any more.\n\nVery soon Abul ran through all his money, and, hoping to get some\nmore from the King, planned with his wife to pay another visit to\nthe Palace.\n\nThen he went to the King and, crying and wringing his hands, said:\n\"O King, my wife is dead.\"\n\nThe King, much shocked and grieved, gave him a than [5] of cloth and\na thousand rupees, and told him to go and bury his wife.\n\nIn the meantime his wife had gone to the Queen's apartments, and\nthere, throwing herself on her face, she wept and said: \"O Queen,\nmy husband is dead, and I am most unhappy!\"\n\nThe Queen, deeply grieved, gave her a thousand rupees and a than of\ncloth, saying: \"Go, bury thy dead.\"\n\nAbul and his wife were now most happy, and set to work to make\nthemselves clothes with the new cloth they had received.\n\nNow it happened that day that the King went to see his Queen, and,\nfinding her in tears, enquired the cause of her grief.\n\n\"Abul's wife has just been to say Abul is dead.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the King; \"you mean that Abul has just been to say that\nhis wife is dead.\"\n\n\"No,\" replied the Queen, \"Abul is dead.\"\n\n\"Not at all,\" returned the King; \"Abul's wife is dead,\" and they fell\nout and quarrelled about it.\n\nThen the King said: \"Well, we'll make a contract: if I am wrong,\nthen I'll give you a present of a garden.\"\n\nAnd the Queen said: \"Very well; and if I am mistaken, I will give\nyou my picture gallery.\"\n\nOn this the King and Queen together went with a number of followers\nto the house of Abul.\n\nWhen Abul and his wife saw them coming they were so frightened that\nthey did not know what to do, and, having no time to run away, they\nboth got under the cloth they were sewing, and lay quite still as\nthough they were dead.\n\nThe King and Queen coming up were surprised indeed to find that both\nwere really dead; but the King, remembering his promise to his wife,\nsaid: \"Now, if we only could find out who died first.\"\n\nOn this Abul crept out quietly, fell at the King's feet, and cried:\n\"Your Majesty, I died first.\"\n\nAt the same time his wife crawled out and prostrated herself at the\nQueen's feet, saying: \"Your Majesty, I died first.\"\n\nAll the followers began to laugh, and so did the King, who asked Abul\nwhy he had done this thing. Abul then confessed how he had squandered\nall the money which the King had given, and, not knowing how to get\nany more, had determined to do what he had done.\n\nThe King, pleased at Abul's cleverness, gave him houses and money,\nso that he never again suffered any want.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAGICIAN AND THE MERCHANT\n\n\nOne day a merchant, going for a stroll, came across a date tree;\nreaching up his hand, he plucked a date and threw the stone away.\n\nNow, near the spot where it fell there lived a wicked magician,\nwho suddenly appeared before the frightened merchant, and told him\nhe was going to kill him.\n\n\"You have put out my son's eye,\" said he, \"by throwing the stone into\nit, and now you shall pay for the deed with your life.\"\n\nThe poor merchant begged and implored for mercy, but the magician\nrefused. At last the merchant asked that he might be allowed to go\nhome and settle his affairs. and distribute his goods amongst his\nfamily, after which he promised to return.\n\nTo this the magician consented, so the merchant departed, and spent\na last happy year with his wife and children. Then, after dividing\nhis goods amongst them, bade them farewell, and with many tears,\nleft them, that he might return to the magician and fulfil his promise.\n\nArrived at the spot, he saw an old man, who asked him why he came\nto such a place. \"A wicked magician lives here,\" said he, \"who kills\npeople, or else changes them into animals or birds.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" cried the unfortunate merchant, \"that is just what my fate\nwill be, for I have come in fulfilment of a promise to return after\na year and be killed.\"\n\nJust then two other old men came, and, while the four were conversing\ntogether, the magician, sword in hand, suddenly appeared and rushed\nat the merchant to kill him.\n\nOn this the old man interceded, and said: \"O Magician, if what I have\nsuffered be more than you have suffered in the loss of your son's\neye, then indeed give this man double punishment: let me, I beg you,\ntell my story.\"\n\n\"Say on,\" said the magician.\n\n\"Do you see this deer?\" said the old man; \"it is my wife. I was once\nmarried to a wife, but after a time I wearied of her, and married\nanother wife, who presented me with a son. I took both the woman and\nher child to my first wife, and asked her to feed and take care of\nthem; but she, being jealous, changed my wife into a cow, and my son\ninto a calf. After a year I returned and enquired after my wife and\nchild. My first wife said: 'Your wife is dead, and for the last two\ndays your child has been missing.'\n\n\"Now it happened at that time that I wanted to offer a sacrifice, and,\nasking for a suitable offering, my second wife was brought to me. She\nfell at my feet, and looked so unhappy that I could not kill her,\nand sent her away. Then my wife grew very angry, and insisted upon\nthe sacrifice. At last I consented, and the poor cow was killed. [6]\n\n\"Then I asked for another offering, and the calf was brought. It too\nlooked at me with tearful eyes, and I had not the heart to kill it,\nbut gave it to a cowherd, and told him to bring it back to me after a\nyear. He kept it with his other cattle, and one day a young girl who\nsaw it began to laugh and cry. On this the cowherd asked her reason\nfor such conduct, and she replied: 'That calf is not really what it\nappears to be, but is a young man, and his mother was the cow who\nwas sacrificed some time ago.'\n\n\"Then the cowherd ran to me and told me the girl's story, and I went\nat once to her to ask whether it was really true, and if she could\nnot restore my son to his original shape again. 'Yes,' she replied,\n'on two conditions. One, that I may be allowed to marry your son,\nand the other, that I may do as I please with your first wife.'\n\n\"To this I consented, so she took some water and sprinkled it upon the\ncalf, which at once turned into my son again. With some of the same\nwater she sprinkled my wife, who there and then turned into a deer.\n\n\"Now, I might easily kill her if I liked; but, knowing that she is\nmy wife, I take her with me wherever I go.\"\n\nThen the second old man said: \"Hear my story. I was one of three\nbrothers. My father died, and we divided his clothes and money amongst\nus. My eldest brother and I became merchants, but my third brother\nran away, wasted and squandered his money, and became a beggar. He\nreturned home, and begged us to forgive him, which we did, and gave\nhim one thousand rupees to buy merchandise.\n\n\"We three then went across the seas to buy goods. On the seashore I\nsaw a very beautiful woman, and asked her if she would come across\nthe sea with me. She consented; but when my brothers saw her they grew\njealous, and, as soon as the ship sailed, they took her and threw her\ninto the sea, and me after her. But she, being an Enchanted Being,\nrose to the surface of the water unhurt, and, taking me up, carried\nme to a place of safety on the seashore.\n\n\"Then she said she was very angry with my brothers and meant to kill\nthem both. I begged in vain that she would spare them, so at last\nshe consented to punish them in some other way instead of killing them.\n\n\"When next I visited at the house of my brothers, two dogs fell at\nmy feet and cowered before me. Then the woman told me that they were\nmy brothers, and would remain dogs for twelve years, after which time\nthey would resume their natural shapes.\"\n\nThe third old man began to tell his story. \"I had the misfortune to\nmarry a witch, who, soon after my marriage, turned me into a dog. I\nfled from the house, and ate such scraps of food as were thrown away\nby the store-keepers in the market place.\n\n\"One day one of the men there took me home, but his daughter turned\naway her head each time she looked at me. At last her father enquired\nher reason for doing this, and she replied: 'Father, that is not a\ndog, but a man whose wife is a witch, and it is she who has changed\nhim into a dog. I will restore him again to his former shape.' So\nshe sprinkled water upon me, and I forthwith regained the shape of\na man. I then asked her if I might not punish my wife, and she gave\nme some water and told me to go and sprinkle it upon the wicked witch.\n\n\"I did this, and she became a donkey! Yet I keep her, and take care\nof her, and pray you, even as we had mercy, to so have mercy upon\nthis man.\"\n\nSo the magician forgave the man, and let him go.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE SNAKE AND THE FROG\n\n\nA Rajah had two sons. The eldest ascended the throne after his father's\ndeath, but fearing lest his brother might interfere with him, he\nordered him to be killed.\n\nThe poor boy, hearing of this order, quietly left the house and\nescaped into the jungles, where he saw a snake with a frog in its\nmouth which it was trying to swallow.\n\nAs the young Rajah approached, he heard the frog say: \"Oh, if God\nwould only send some one to rescue me from the snake, how thankful\nI should be.\"\n\nThe Rajah, full of pity, threw a stone at the snake, and it immediately\nreleased the frog, which hopped away.\n\nThe snake remained still, dazed by the hurt received by the stone. Now,\nthe Rajah felt sorry for it, and thought to himself: \"I have taken\naway its natural food;\" so, quickly cutting off a piece of his own\nflesh, he threw it to the snake, saying: \"Here, take this instead.\"\n\nThe snake took it home, and when its wife saw it, she said: \"This is\nvery good flesh; where did you get it?\"\n\nThe snake told her what had happened, and she said: \"Go back to that\nman and reward him for what he has done.\"\n\nThen the snake assumed the form of a man, and, going back to the Rajah,\nsaid: \"I will be your servant, if you will take me.\"\n\nThe Rajah agreed, and his new servant followed him.\n\nThe frog, meantime, had also gone home and told his wife of the narrow\nescape he had from the snake, and how a man had saved him from its\nvery jaws.\n\n\"Go back,\" said she, \"and serve him, to prove your gratitude.\"\n\nSo he also took the form of a man and offered himself as a servant\nto the Rajah. \"Come,\" said he, \"and we three will live together.\"\n\nThen they entered a city belonging to a great King, and the three of\nthem offered to work for him.\n\n\"But,\" said the young Rajah, \"I will only work on condition that you\npay me a thousand rupees a day.\"\n\nTo this the King agreed, and they were employed by him.\n\nThe young Rajah gave his own two followers one hundred rupees a\nday; and, after putting aside one hundred for his own requirements,\ndistributed the rest in charity.\n\nOne day the King went to take a bath in the tank, or pond, and while\nbathing, his ring slipped off and fell into the water.\n\nHe therefore called the young Rajah and said to him: \"Go and get my\nring which is in that tank.\"\n\nThis made the youth very sad, \"For,\" thought he, \"how am I to get a\nring from the bottom of a tank?\"\n\nBut his servant who had once been a frog begged him not to be sad,\nand said: \"I will get it for you.\"\n\nSo, quickly taking his old form, he dived into the water and restored\nthe ring to his master, who took it to the King.\n\nSome time after this the King's daughter was bitten by a snake, and\nin great danger of death. \"Make my child well,\" demanded the King of\nthe young Rajah. But this was hard to do, and the youth became sadder\nthan ever.\n\n\"Do not despair,\" said his servant who had once been a snake, \"but put\nme into the room where the child is, for I understand the treatment\nfor snake-bite.\"\n\nAs soon as this was done he sucked out all the poison, and the child\nrecovered.\n\nThis so delighted the King that he called the young Rajah and offered\nhim his daughter in marriage as a reward.\n\nSo the marriage took place, and they lived happily ever afterwards.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE BARBER AND THE THIEF\n\n\nA thief entered the house of a barber, and, carefully making bundles\nof all he could lay hands upon, was about to take them away when the\nbarber spied him; and, quickly getting out of bed, sat down at the\ndoor, thus cutting off the way of escape for the thief, who waited\nin vain for him to move.\n\nThe barber sat smoking his hookah, [7] and every now and then refreshed\nhimself by drinking water, occasionally spitting at what looked like a\nbundle of rags on the floor; but which was in reality the thief. [8]\nAfter a while the barber woke his wife by flinging a little water on\nher. She woke up very angry, and scolded him roundly.\n\n\"What!\" said the barber, \"you mind a little water being thrown at you,\nwhile this man\"--pointing to the thief--\"has no objection to being\nspat upon!\"\n\nThen the thief found he had been discovered, and implored forgiveness.\n\nThinking he had already suffered sufficient indignities, they forgave\nhim and let him go.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF PURAN\n\n\nThere was once a shoemaker who had a vegetable garden in which grew a\nbed of brinjals (or egg plant). Unknown to him, a fairy used sometimes\nto come and walk there; and one day, while passing the brinjal bushes,\na thorn on them caught one of her wings and broke it, so that she\nwas unable to fly, and had to remain where she was.\n\nNext time the shoemaker visited his garden he saw a beautiful woman\nin it; and, not knowing that she was a fairy, asked her to tell him\nher name, and how she came there.\n\nHer only reply was: \"I am cold: give me a covering, I pray you.\"\n\nThen he invited her to take shelter in his hut, and gave her a lowie,\nor warm covering, saying: \"Take this and stay as long as you like,\nand be my daughter.\"\n\nThe shoemaker had a kind heart, and was very good to his adopted child,\nwhom he named \"Loonar Chumari.\"\n\nNow a Rajah, by name Suliman, sometimes visited the shoemaker's shop;\nand when he saw the fairy he fell in love with her, and begged for\nher hand in marriage.\n\nThe shoemaker consented, and after a time the marriage took place; but\nSuliman had another wife at his Palace, and a son whose name was Puran:\nand he was most anxious to find out whether, when he grew up, this\nson would make a good ruler, so he sent for a Brahmin and enquired.\n\n\"Yes,\" declared the Brahmin, \"he will be a good ruler, but you must\nkeep him locked up for twelve years in an underground room.\"\n\nThis was done, and at the time when Suliman met the fairy, the twelve\nyears had nearly been completed; but the boy refused to remain even\na week longer, for he was weary of being locked up for so long. Even\nhis own mother could not influence him in the matter, and so he\nwas released.\n\nNow Puran was a very comely youth, and when he made his obeisance to\nhis new stepmother, she was greatly impressed with his handsome face,\nand thought to herself: \"Had I not been in such a hurry I might have\nmarried him instead of Suliman.\"\n\nThe thought vexed her so much that she made up her mind to get Puran\nout of her sight by having him killed. She told Suliman that his boy\nwas wanting in respect towards her, and deserving of death.\n\nOn hearing this, Suliman had a bowl of boiling oil prepared, and,\ncalling his son, said: \"My son, if this be indeed true about you,\nplunge your hand into this boiling oil: if you are innocent no harm\nwill come to you.\"\n\nPuran, without a sign of fear, did as his father bid him, and plunged\nin his hand, taking it out without a mark.\n\nThen Suliman turned to his wife and said: \"See, the oil does not\nburn him.\"\n\nBut she replied angrily: \"Never mind, I am not content, and shall not\nrest day or night until you have his eyes put out, and both his hands\nand his feet cut off, after which you must have him flung into a pit.\"\n\nSuliman, who was completely under the power of the fairy, at last\nconsented to this, and gave the order; but Puran's own mother pleaded\nso earnestly that her boy's eyes might be spared, that the servants\nfelt sorry for her; and, substituting the eyes of an animal, they\nleft the young man's eyes untouched.\n\nThen Puran was thrown into a pit and there left.\n\nA Guru, or Priest, who lived near that place used to send his followers\ndaily to bring food and water for him, and one of them, mistaking the\ndry pit for a well, let down his chattie for water. Whereupon Puran,\nwhose hands and feet had been restored by the Almighty, caught hold\nof the chattie and would not let it go.\n\nThe Guru called out: \"Let go, or I will bring my book of incantations\nand crush you into dust.\"\n\n\"Try,\" replied a voice from the bottom of the pit, \"for I too can\nbring my books and crush you to dust.\"\n\nThe Guru was frightened, and, returning to the head Guru, his master,\ntold him what had happened.\n\nThen the old Guru said: \"It must be Puran; I will go and see.\" So,\ntaking with him a ball of raw cotton, he called out at the top of\nthe pit: \"Puran, is that you? If so, and you are an innocent man,\nI will let down a thread of raw cotton, and you will be able to climb\nup by it, for it will not break if used by the innocent.\"\n\n\"Let it down,\" replied Puran, and he climbed up safely.\n\nThe Guru looked at him as he stood up, and then quietly returned to\nhis own home.\n\nThere he met all his pupils or followers, who are called \"Cheelas,\"\nand sent them out to bring stores. There were one hundred and\nthirty-five Cheelas, and before they left he warned them, saying:\n\"Go everywhere except to that magic country where those women live\nwho practise witchcraft.\"\n\nBut the men were curious, and, in spite of the warning, went to the\nwitches' country.\n\nThe witches saw them coming, and laughed gleefully. \"Let us play\na trick on these young Gurus,\" they said, \"and turn them all into\nyoung bulls.\"\n\nThis they did, and, leading the creatures to their husbands, said:\n\"See what fine bulls we have brought in exchange for two and a half\npounds of flour.\"\n\nThe husbands were very pleased, and kept the bulls to carry loads.\n\nMeanwhile the old Guru waited for his followers, but as none of\nthem appeared, he sought the aid of his books and discovered what\nhad happened.\n\nThen he pronounced his incantations and dried up all the water in\nthe country, with the exception of one well, near which he sat.\n\nThe witches soon found that they would die of thirst, so they came to\nthe old man's well, but they barely had time to put down their chatties\nbefore he turned the lot of them into donkeys and let them graze.\n\nVery soon the witches were missed by their husbands, who came to the\nold Guru and asked if he could give any news.\n\n\"How can I tell,\" said he, \"when one hundred and thirty-five of my\nown Gurus are lost and I cannot find them.\"\n\n\"But you can recall them, our Father,\" said the men.\n\n\"That is what I mean to do;\" and so saying, the Guru took out his\nbooks and began to read. While he did this, they saw in the distance\na herd of one hundred and thirty-five bulls approaching, and each\none carried a load of wood or hay.\n\nThey stood still before the old Guru, who then restored them to their\nformer shapes.\n\nThen the witches' husbands were amazed, and said: \"O Guru! can you\nnot call our wives also?\"\n\n\"Call them yourselves, my friends, as you have seen me call my men.\"\n\nBut the men knew nothing of either witchcraft or incantations, so\nthey besought the Guru to help them.\n\nAt last he agreed, and asked for a thick, strong stick, which he\ngave into the hands of one of his Cheelas, and said: \"Go knock each\nof those donkeys a blow on the head with this.\"\n\nThe Cheela did as he was told, and the donkeys resumed the shapes of\nwomen, all but five old ones which the Guru said must remain donkeys\nby way of warning.\n\nThen the Guru sent his followers forth as before, and coming to the\npit where Puran had been found, they saw a dry stick standing near\nit. \"This will do for fire,\" said they; but when they touched it a\nfeeble voice was heard.\n\nSo they reported the matter to the old Guru, and when he touched the\nstick it said, \"Guru Jee.\" On this he recognised Puran, who for years\nhad waited beside the well.\n\n\"Why did you not go home, my son?\"\n\n\"Because you did not tell me,\" said Puran, \"so I waited here for\nyour orders.\"\n\nThen the Guru held him tenderly and washed the mud off him, and in\nmany days he grew strong again.\n\n\"Now go home to your parents,\" said the Guru.\n\nBut Puran said: \"No, I will remain with you.\"\n\nThus in time he became a very highly respected Guru.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTABARISTAN\n\n\nIn the country called Tabaristan there lived a rich Rajah, who gave\na feast and invited a number of guests.\n\nAmongst the guests came a stranger who partook of the good things\ndistributed. The Rajah, on seeing him, enquired who he was.\n\n\"I am a stranger,\" said he, \"but am willing to serve you, as I have\ncome from a very distant country.\"\n\nThe Rajah said he would keep him as a sort of Chowkidar, to guard\nhis house at night. So all night long the stranger used to pace up\nand down the Palace grounds keeping watch.\n\nOne night the Rajah came out and, seeing him pacing up and down,\nasked him who he was.\n\n\"Why, I am he whom you engaged as a servant.\"\n\nHardly had he spoken when a loud cry echoed through the grounds,\nand a voice said: \"I am going on, I am going on!\"\n\n\"What is that?\" asked the Rajah.\n\n\"I do not know,\" said the man, \"but I hear it every night.\"\n\n\"Go and find out,\" returned the Rajah. So the man turned to do his\nbidding.\n\nNow the Rajah was very curious, and, quickly wrapping himself in his\ncoat, quietly followed his servant.\n\nOutside the garden gate sat a figure covered and clothed in loose\nwhite garments.\n\nOn approaching it the servant said: \"Who are you?\"\n\n\"I am Time,\" replied the figure, \"and hold the Rajah's life, which\nis now nearly over.\"\n\n\"Cannot anything be done to spare it?\" asked the man.\n\n\"Yes, it can be spared by the sacrifice of another, and that one must\nbe your son.\"\n\n\"I will give not only my son's life, but the lives of all my family\nand my own,\" replied the man; \"but, if you want only my son, you may\nhave him.\"\n\nThen he went and told his son, who said: \"Gladly will I give my life,\nfor what is it in comparison with the life of a Rajah? Come, father,\ntake me soon that I may die.\"\n\nThen the man led his son to the veiled figure, and said: \"Here is my\nson; he is willing to die.\"\n\nTaking a knife, he was about to plunge it into his child when the\nfigure cried: \"Enough! You have proved that you were willing not only\nto give your son, but your whole family, and the Almighty is pleased\nto spare the Rajah's life for another seven years.\"\n\nNow the Rajah, who had heard every word of the interview, quickly\nreturned to the spot where he had first heard the voice, and there\nawaited his servant's return.\n\n\"Well, what was the sound?\" asked he, when he saw him.\n\n\"A man and a woman had quarrelled,\" replied the servant, \"but I have\nmanaged to reconcile them, and they have promised not to quarrel for\nseven years.\"\n\nThen the Rajah left him, and ordered him to appear at his Court the\nfollowing day.\n\nNext day, when the Court was full, the Rajah addressed all his people,\nand said: \"I am resolved to give up my throne and all I possess to\nthis man; for last night, unknown to me, he was willing to give up,\nnot only his son's life but his own, and the lives of all his family,\nin order to save mine, and for my sake.\"\n\nThe poor servant was deeply touched and astonished at the turn matters\nhad so unexpectedly taken, but the Rajah was firm in his resolve,\nand left his throne and his kingdom.\n\nThe servant then became Rajah, and ruled wisely and well to the end\nof his days.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE PAINTED JACKAL\n\n\nA jackal had the habit of visiting the kitchens of several people at\nnight and eating whatever it could find.\n\nOne day, in visiting the house of a dyer, it put its head into a\ndeep vessel containing blue dye, and, finding the mixture was not\ngood to eat, tried to get its head out again, but could not do so\nfor some time. When at last it managed to escape, its head was dyed\na beautiful dark blue colour.\n\nHe ran away into the jungles, glad to escape, and unconscious of his\nstrange appearance; but the other animals in the jungle thought some\nnew animal had come, and were quite charmed, so that they created\nhim their King.\n\nThey divided up all the wild creatures, and put their new King next\nto the jackals, so that when they cried out at nights, he cried too,\nand nobody found out that he was only a jackal.\n\nBut one day some young jackals made him angry, so he turned them out\nand ordered the wolves and foxes to remain nearest to him.\n\nThat night, when he began to cry and howl, it was at once discovered\nthat he was only a jackal; so all the animals ran at him, bit him,\nand turned him out.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE ENCHANTED BIRD, MUSIC, AND STREAM\n\n\nThere was once a Prince who used to amuse himself by dressing as a\npoor man, and going about amongst his subjects without their finding\nout who he was.\n\nIn this way he found out all that they did, and how they lived.\n\nOnce, while walking through a gully, he saw three sisters, and\noverheard their conversation.\n\nOne said: \"If I could marry even a servant of the Prince, how happy\nI should be! I should eat sweets and all sorts of nice things all\nday long.\"\n\nThe other sister said: \"I'd rather marry his cook, for then I should\nget still better things.\"\n\nBut the third sister said: \"I'd like best to marry the Prince himself,\nfor then I'd get the best things of all to eat.\"\n\nThe Prince went home, and next day, while holding court, gave an\norder that these three sisters should be brought to him.\n\nThe order was immediately carried out, and, as the three trembling\ngirls stood before him, they wondered much why they had been summoned.\n\n\"Now,\" said he, \"tell me what you three were talking about last night?\"\n\nTerribly alarmed, the eldest confessed that she had said she would\nlike to be the wife of one of the servants, so as to get nice things\nto eat. The second said she had wished to be the wife of his cook.\n\nThe third sister hesitated, and then said timidly that she had dared\nto say she would like best to be the wife of the Prince himself.\n\nOn this the Prince said: \"You may have your wishes.\"\n\nHe then ordered the one to be married to one of his servants, and\nthe other to his cook; but the third he married himself.\n\nSome time after this, a son was born; but his wife's two sisters,\nwho had begged to be present upon the occasion, and who were very\njealous of their sister's position, quietly removed the baby, and put\na dog's puppy in its place. The baby they put into a box and flung\ninto the river.\n\nNow the Prince's gardener found the box and opened it; and, when he saw\nwhat it contained, he was overjoyed, and took the child to his wife,\ntelling her that God had at last given her a son which he would keep\nand bring up as his own son.\n\nMeantime, the Prince was very angry indeed, but forgave his wife at\nthe request of her friends.\n\nSome time after this another son was born, which the sisters changed\nfor a kitten, and, putting the babe into a box, threw it into the\nriver as before; but again the gardener found the child and carried\nhim to his wife.\n\nYet a third child was born to the Princess, a little girl, which the\ntwo sisters changed for a rat. As before, they placed the child in a\nbox and threw it into the river; and yet a third time did the gardener\nrescue the babe, and take it to grow up with its two brothers, his\nadopted boys.\n\nBy this time the Prince was very angry with his wife, and turned her\nout of his house.\n\nThe gardener and his wife, who had loved their adopted children very\ndearly, died when the boys were about eight or nine years of age.\n\nSo the boys begged the Prince to give them land of their own, on which\nto build or cultivate; and he, remembering how fond his gardener had\nalways been of them, granted their request, so they lived there very\nhappily with their little sister.\n\nThe brothers often went out hunting, and on one occasion, when they\nwere out and their sister alone at home, a very old woman came to her\nand begged for some water. She willingly gave it, and then asked the\nold woman very kindly if she would not come in and rest. \"Come and\nsee my house,\" she said, \"and tell me what you think of it.\"\n\nThe old woman said: \"You have everything very nice, but there are\nthree things which you have not got.\"\n\n\"And what are those?\"\n\n\"You have no bird, no music, and no stream of water,\" replied the\nold woman; \"without these your house is nothing.\"\n\n\"Where am I to get them?\"\n\n\"You must go to the West.\"\n\nSo saying, she went away and left the girl very sad, for she wished\nfor the three things without which her home was incomplete.\n\nOn the return of her brothers, they asked her why she looked so sad;\nand she told them of the old woman's visit, and what she had said.\n\n\"If that is all,\" cried the eldest brother, \"I will go and bring you\nall three things.\"\n\nThe sister at first cried very much, and begged of him not to go,\nbut at last she consented; and as he bade her good-bye, he gave her\na string of beads, saying: \"As long as I am well, these beads will\nbe separate from each other; but should any misfortune overtake me,\nor I should die, the beads will be no longer separate, but will be\njoined together.\"\n\nThen he mounted his horse and rode away.\n\nOn the way he met an old Fakir. This old man's face was covered with\nhair, so that he could not see, and he had a very long grey beard.\n\nThe boy looked at him, and said: \"Let me shave you, and you will be\nable to see better.\"\n\nSo the Fakir allowed himself to be shaved, after which he asked\nthe youth where he was going, and on hearing, he advised him not to\ngo. \"For,\" said he, \"many have already gone on that quest, but have\nnever returned.\"\n\nYet the boy persisted. So the old Fakir gave him a ball, and said:\n\"Keep throwing this before you as you go. Stop where the ball stops,\nand heed no sounds or interruptions on the way.\"\n\nThe ball went in the direction of a high mountain, and the boy\nfollowed; but in the mountain there were strange hissing sounds and\nvoices all around, which kept shouting to him, and asking who he was\nand where he came from.\n\nHe paid no heed to these, until suddenly there came a great clap of\nthunder, followed by an earthquake. This so startled the boy that he\nlooked round, and in a moment was turned into stone.\n\nThe poor little sister at home, discovering that she could no longer\nseparate her beads, was grieved indeed, knowing that some harm had\nbefallen her brother; and she wept bitterly.\n\nOn this her second brother said he would go and seek him, and also\nfind the three things she required for her house.\n\nHis sister implored him not to leave her, for he was all she had left;\nbut he was determined, so she was obliged to reluctantly consent to\nhis going.\n\nBefore leaving he gave her a flower, and said: \"Sister, as long as\nthis flower keeps fresh, you will know that I am alive and well;\nbut if it should close or fade, you may feel sure that I too am dead.\"\n\nThen he mounted his steed and started on his journey.\n\nSoon he met the old Fakir, who warned him as he had warned his brother,\nsaying: \"My son, so many have gone on this quest and have lost their\nlives; your own brother has lost his life, and yet you wish to go. Turn\nback, I advise you.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the boy, \"I am determined to find my brother, and also\nthe bird, music, and stream of water.\"\n\nThen the Fakir gave him also a ball of string, with the same directions\nwhich he had given his brother; and he continued on his journey.\n\nAs he reached the hill, he too heard the same hissing, shouting, and\ncries to stop; but he heeded nothing, until at last came the peal of\nthunder and earthquake, which so terrified him that he turned round\nto look, and he too was turned into stone.\n\nAt home his poor sister saw her flower fade away and die, and then\nshe knew that her other brother had also come to an untimely end.\n\nSo she arose and locked her door, and said: \"I will go myself and\nfind my brothers.\"\n\nOn her way she met the same old Fakir, who accosted her, and asked\nher whither she was going.\n\nHe was much grieved when she told him her story, and said: \"Brave men\nhave lost their lives, and you, a woman, without half their strength,\nare going. I pray you be advised and return.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" she returned; \"if men have lost their courage, I, a woman,\nshall not lose mine. I am very brave, and I mean to go.\"\n\nSo the Fakir bade her God-speed very sadly, and gave her the same\nparting gift as he had given her brothers, directing her what to do\nwith it.\n\nThe first thing she did was to buy some cotton wool, and with it stop\nher ears, so that she could not hear a sound; then she proceeded on\nher journey up the hill.\n\nThe same sounds followed her all the way, but she heard them not,\nnor did she hear the thunder or heed the earthquake in her anxiety\nto find her brothers.\n\nOn and on went she, until she saw a cage hanging on a tree, and in it\na bird. She took it with great joy, and said: \"I have found my bird,\nand have only the music and water to get for my home to be perfect.\"\n\nTo her delight, the bird heard, and replied: \"If you break off a\nbranch of that tree and stick it into the ground, the breeze through\nits leaves will make the sweetest music you have ever heard; and\nif you will take a little water from that enchanted stream yonder,\nand pour it into your garden, it will never cease to flow. Thus you\nwill have both music and stream.\"\n\nThe girl did as the bird advised, and heard the sweetest melody in the\nbranch of the tree. Then she filled a vessel with water and prepared\nto return, but very sorrowfully, for she had found both her brothers\nturned into stone.\n\nShe told her trouble to the bird, who said: \"Sprinkle some of the\nwater on the stones.\"\n\nThis she did, and, to her great surprise, both the lads came to life.\n\nThey were delighted to see her, and to know that she had succeeded\nin finding the gifts they had failed to get; and the three returned\nhome and lived very happily together for some time.\n\nOne day the two brothers thought they would like to go out hunting\nagain.\n\nNow they did not know that an order had been passed that nobody was\nto hunt in that forest except the Prince, and, while they were there,\nthey came face to face with the Prince himself. This alarmed them,\nand they tried to hide themselves; but he called them, and enquired\nwhy they were hunting there against orders.\n\nThen they explained that they were in ignorance of his orders when\nthey came, and begged forgiveness.\n\nThe Prince, pleased at their appearance, enquired who they were,\nand they said: \"The adopted sons of your gardener who died some time\nago. Our own parents died when we were young.\"\n\nThen the Prince invited them to his Palace, but they said they could\ngo nowhere without first telling their sister.\n\n\"Well, ask your sister,\" said he, \"and come to-morrow.\"\n\nOn the third day they met the Prince again, and he asked why they had\nnot come; but they pleaded as an excuse that they had forgotten to\nask their sister. The Prince then gave them a golden ball and said:\n\"When you see this, you will remember.\"\n\nThat night as they were going to bed, the small golden ball rolled\nout on the floor, and seeing it, they remembered, and told their\nsister of the Prince's invitation.\n\nShe was very displeased with them for not having complied with it\nearlier; and told them that they must go and see him the very next day.\n\nOn the morrow the two boys went to the Palace, where the Prince\nreceived them very kindly, and gave them all sorts of good things to\neat and drink, saying to himself: \"Had I had children, they would by\nthis time be the same ages as these lads.\"\n\nOne day, soon after this, the bird advised the sister of the boys to\ninvite the Prince to dinner.\n\n\"How can I entertain so grand a man?\" said she.\n\n\"Make him a dish of kheer (rice cooked with milk and sugar); and\nbesides this, to please him, another dish of pearls.\"\n\n\"But where shall I get the pearls?\"\n\n\"Send a man to dig beneath that tree, and you will find as many as\nyou require,\" replied the bird.\n\nSo the girl did as she was told, and sent a man to dig. He soon found\na box full of pearls, and these she placed in a very beautiful dish,\nand put it alongside the plate of kheer.\n\nThe Prince accepted the invitation to dinner, and came to the house.\n\nAfter showing him all round, the girl led him at last to the room\nin which she had prepared dinner; and as her bird was also there,\nshe told it to make a salaam to the Prince, which it did.\n\nThen the first dish was uncovered, and the Prince knew that he could\nnot eat it as it was made of pearls; but the bird spoke up and said:\n\"O Prince! are you not yet able to understand the difference between\npearls and dross? When your wife bore your children, you believed\nthem to be dogs, cats, or rats, and turned out your poor wife, who\nwas in reality the mother of these\"--and she pointed to the two boys\nand their sister--\"your own children, who were exchanged by their\nwicked aunts for a dog, a cat, a rat, and you believed them.\"\n\nOn hearing this, the Prince was astounded; and then the bird told\nhim exactly all that had taken place.\n\nDelighted to be once more united to his children, he sought his poor\nwife, and, throwing himself at her feet, besought her with tears to\nforgive him.\n\nThis she very gladly did, and returned with him to the Palace, where\nher children received her; and they were all very happy ever after.\n\nThe two wicked sisters were killed by order of the Prince.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE DOG TEMPLE\n\n\nAbout eleven miles from Raipur, near the village of Jagasar, is a\ntemple built to the memory of a faithful dog of the Bunjara species,\nand this is the story of how it came to be built.\n\nMany years ago a Bunjara Naik, or headman of the clan of Bunjaras,\nor wandering traders, owed money to a \"Marwari,\" or money-lender\nat Raipur.\n\nWhen pressed for payment, the Bunjara, who was then standing near\nthe Marwari's shop, said: \"Here is my gold necklace, and here is\nmy faithful dog: keep both till I return to my camping-ground near\nJagasar, and fetch you the money.\"\n\nThe necklace and dog were then left as security, and the man went\nhis way.\n\nThat night the Marwari's shop was broken into by thieves, and many\nvaluables stolen, among them the golden necklace; but, before the\nthieves could get clear away with their stolen property, the dog got up\nand barked and leaped about, and made so much noise that the Marwari\nand his men got up, caught the thieves, and recovered the property,\nwhich was of considerable worth.\n\nThe Marwari was very pleased, and out of gratitude for what the dog\nhad done, determined to cancel and forgive the debt of his master,\nthe Bunjara. So he wrote a paper to cancel it, tied it to the dog's\nneck and let it go, saying: \"Carry the tidings to your owner.\"\n\nEarly next morning the dog trotted off, and was nearing the\ncamping-ground which was his home, when the Bunjara saw him, and,\nvery displeased, he took a stick and struck the poor dog across the\nhead, saying: \"You brute! you could not remain even twenty-four hours\nwith the Marwari, though my honour was at stake.\"\n\nThe blow killed the dog on the spot, and as he fell, the Bunjara\nnoticed the slip of paper round his neck, and, on reading it, found\nwhat joyful news his dog had brought to him. Not only was the debt\nforgiven, but the reason for it was also stated on the paper.\n\nThe grief of the Bunjara was great, for in spite of his hasty temper\nhe loved his dog, as all Bunjaras do. He repented his hasty act, and\nwept most bitterly over his favourite, vowing that he would try and\nexpiate the deed by building a temple to the faithful dog's memory\nwith the money he had recovered.\n\nThe small temple now standing on the spot where this took place\ntestifies to the fulfilment of that vow, and a small dog carved in\nstone indicates why the Dog Temple was built.\n\nTo this day it is deeply revered by all the villagers around, and the\nstory of that faithful dog is often repeated to show how intelligent\nand true a dog can be.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE BEAUTIFUL MILKMAID\n\n\nAt a place called Drug, near Raipur in the Central Provinces of India,\nthere once lived an old woman who had a very beautiful daughter.\n\nThe old woman was most unwilling that her daughter should go out\ninto the streets, for she said: \"You are so beautiful, my daughter,\nthat I tremble lest any one take you from me.\"\n\nBut the girl replied: \"Mother, I must go and earn our daily food. Let\nme, I pray you, sell milk and curds as usual: no harm will come to me.\"\n\nThe mother very reluctantly let her go; but that day a Rajah happened\nto pass by and saw her. He noticed how beautiful she was, and stopped\nhis elephant to ask who she was. She told him that she was of humble\norigin, and only a seller of milk and curds.\n\n\"Then,\" said the Rajah, \"I shall buy all that you have.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" replied the girl; \"surely what is mine is yours, and I offer\neverything in homage to you.\"\n\nWhen she persisted in refusing payment the Rajah was angry, and\nordered his attendants to scatter the curds, and put the girl into\nprison for daring to go against his wishes.\n\nThe order was obeyed, and the beautiful milkmaid found herself\na prisoner.\n\nWhile in prison she prayed to her Gods for deliverance, and fashioning\na parrot out of clay, breathed life into it and told it to go quickly\nto her lover, a young man grazing his herds in the hills, and tell\nhim what had happened.\n\nThe bird flew off and did as he was told; and the lover came down\nthat night with all his clansmen, attacked the Rajah and killed him.\n\nThen he rescued the girl, who lived happily ever after as the wife\nof her brave deliverer.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nA REMEDY FOR SNAKE-BITE\n\n\nThere is in India a small state called Raghoghur, the Rajahs of which\nare said to possess the power of curing snake-bite, even though it\nbe from the most deadly cobra or karait. This power has been handed\ndown for centuries, and was firmly believed in during the year 1896,\nand even up to the present moment.\n\nEvery man bitten by a deadly snake in that place takes a bit of string,\nties seven knots in it, and places it round his neck. As he goes along\ntowards the Palace of the Rajah or Raghoghur, he keeps repeating \"Jeth\nSingh,\" \"Jeth Singh,\" \"Jeth Singh,\" untying each knot while so doing.\n\nArrived at the Palace, he salutes the assembled courtiers, and in\ntheir presence undoes the last of the seven knots. This done, the\nRajah pours water on the bite and on the man's hands. A Brahmin gives\nhis blessing, and he returns to the village cured.\n\nThis power descends from father to son, and many are the wonderful\ncures reported from Raghoghur.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nA LEGEND OF SARDANA\n\n\nIn a city called Sardana there once lived a man whose name was\nSimru. This man had great riches and lands, and also owned a place\nof worship.\n\nHe married a lady of Sardana, who was called \"Begum.\"\n\nAfter a few years of married life Simru died, and his wealthy widow\ngave alms and much money to the poor.\n\nIn the same city lived an oil dealer who also died, and the angels\ntook him to Heaven and presented him before the Almighty.\n\n\"Who have you brought?\" asked the Creator. \"This man's days upon\nearth are not yet completed: take him back before his body is buried,\nand let his spirit re-possess his body; but in the city of Sardana\nyou will find another man of the same name: bring him to me.\"\n\nOn leaving the Court of God, some former creditor of the oil dealer's,\nwho had preceded him into the Unseen, recognised him, and laying hold\nof him, demanded the sum of five rupees which he had owed him during\nhis lifetime.\n\nThe poor man being unable to pay this debt, the angels once more took\nhim before the Almighty, who asked why they had returned.\n\nThe angels replied: \"O God, there is a man here to whom this oil\ndealer owes five rupees, and he will not let us return until the debt\nis paid.\"\n\nThe Almighty enquired if this was true, and the oil dealer replied:\n\"Yes, but I am a poor man, and not able to repay it.\"\n\nThen the Almighty said: \"In the city of Sardana lives a rich Begum;\ndo you know her?\"\n\n\"Yes, O King.\"\n\n\"Well, the Begum's treasury is here, and I will advance you five rupees\nout of it, if, when you return to earth, you promise faithfully to\ngive it back to the Begum.\"\n\nSo the oil dealer gratefully took the loan, paid his debt, and\nreturned with the angels to earth, where he arrived just too late\nto re-enter his body, which his friends had already taken away to\nprepare for burial. Watching his opportunity, he waited till they\nwere otherwise engaged, and at once re-entered it; but when he sat\nup, and began to speak, his terrified friends and relations fled,\nthinking it was his ghost.\n\nOn this the oil dealer called out: \"Do not fear, I am not a spirit; but\nGod has released me, as my days upon earth are not yet fulfilled. The\nman who ought to have died is Kungra, the vegetable man; go and see\nwhether he is dead or alive.\"\n\nThe friends, on going to the house of Kungra, found that he had just\nfallen from a wall and been killed on the spot; all his relations\nwere wailing and lamenting his sudden end.\n\nThus everybody knew that the words of the old oil dealer were correct.\n\nIn the meantime, the oil dealer called his son, and said: \"Son,\nwhen I went to Heaven I there met a man to whom I owed five rupees,\nand he caught me and would not let me return before I paid it, so the\nAlmighty advanced me the money from the Begum's treasury in Heaven,\nand bade me give her back that amount on my return to earth. Therefore\ndo I entreat you, my son, to come with me, and together we will visit\nthe Begum, and give her five rupees.\"\n\nSo they took the money and went to the Begum's house.\n\n\"Who are you?\" asked she.\n\nThe oil dealer then told her the whole story, ending with: \"And now\nI come to return you the five rupees.\"\n\nThe Begum was very pleased, and, taking the money, she called her\nservants and ordered a further sum of one hundred rupees to be added\nto it. This money she spent on sweets, which were distributed amongst\nthe poor.\n\nMany years afterwards the good Begum of Sardana died, but her houses\nand lands are still in existence; nor does anybody living in that\ntown forget the story of the oilman who died and lived again. [9]\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF \"BUNJARA TULLAO\"\n\n\nThere is at a place in India called Agar, a tank or pond known as the\n\"Bunjara Tullao,\" yet no Bunjara will ever drink water there.\n\nMany years ago no pond existed in that spot, and in all the country\nround a water famine prevailed, and the poor were perishing for want\nof water.\n\nA Fakir prophesied that if a man would kill his son and daughter as\na sacrifice to the Gods, water would be found and last always.\n\nThat night a Bunjara slew his two children, and threw them into a\ndeep hole.\n\nIn the morning when the sun shone and people woke up, lo! there\nwas a large pond in place of the hole, and nothing was seen of the\nunfortunate children. Then the poor filled their chatties, and went\naway rejoicing.\n\nIt is said that sometimes the heads of a boy and girl were seen lifted\nout of the water, and that they held out their hands to passers-by; but\nbecause the peasants put mud into them, they discontinued the practice.\n\nIn the centre of the \"Bunjara Tullao\" is a shrine built in memory of\nits origin.\n\nThere is another such pond near the Sipri Bazaar, which remains clear\nand beautiful, notwithstanding the fact that hundreds of people bathe\nand wash in it.\n\nThe old \"Guru\" who lives there explains the reason for this.\n\n\"Many years ago one of the Gods selected the Sipri Bazaar tank for\nhis bath, and ever since its waters have remained as clear as crystal.\"\n\n\n\nMoral.--Thus there is a cause for everything in the world.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE ANAR PARI, OR POMEGRANATE FAIRY\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a King who had seven sons, all of whom\nwere married but the youngest.\n\nOne day the Queen-mother spoke to her youngest son, and said: \"Why are\nyou not married? Do not the maidens of my Court please thee? Perhaps\nyou want what you cannot get, and that is perfection, unless, indeed,\nyou go and seek and marry the Anar Pari, who is the fairest of all\nfairies, and whose charms are traditional.\"\n\nThe Prince then and there registered a vow that he would not marry at\nall unless he found this pearl of great price, and forthwith started\non his quest for her.\n\nHe put on his armour and five weapons of defence, mounted his favourite\nsteed, and set forth.\n\nHe had proceeded a good distance when night fell, and he found himself\nin a forest near a small hut. Entering it, he found it was occupied\nby a holy Fakir.\n\nThe Fakir said: \"My son, why have you come here? Where are you\ngoing? And are you not afraid of the wild animals which infest this\nforest?\"\n\nThe Prince replied: \"Holy Father, I am going on a long journey to\ntry and find the Pomegranate Fairy, so that I may wed her.\"\n\n\"You are going a long way indeed,\" replied the Fakir; \"but if you\nlisten to what I tell you, your journey will not be in vain.\"\n\nNext morning he called the young man, and told him that he was going\nto enchant him and turn him into a parrot, so that he might fly to\nthe island on which the fairy was imprisoned, and guarded day and\nnight by seven hundred dreadful dragons. He also told him that on\nthe island he would find a pomegranate tree with three pomegranates\non it, of which he was to pluck and bring away the middle one, for\nin it dwelt the fairy he was so anxious to find.\n\n\"But mind you,\" said the Fakir, \"once you have plucked the pomegranate,\nyou are not to wait an instant, or even turn to look back when the\ndragons come after you, for, if you once look back, all your efforts\nwill be in vain, and you will be killed.\"\n\nThen the young Prince was turned into a parrot and immediately\nflew off.\n\nHe flew and flew and flew, till he had crossed seven seas; and in\nthe midst of the seventh sea, he at last spied an island in which\nwas a most lovely garden, where grew an exquisite pomegranate tree,\nand on it three pomegranates, the centre one most beautiful to behold.\n\nHe plucked the fruit, and flew as fast as he could, but alas, the\ndragon who guarded the tree saw him, and called to the other dragons,\nwho, with wild yells and terrifying noises, flew after him.\n\nThe young Prince in his flight unfortunately looked back to see\nwhere they were, and was immediately burnt to a cinder, and fell to\nthe ground with the golden pomegranate which he had worked so hard\nto obtain.\n\nThe dragons came up and took away the fruit, but left the burnt body\nof the bird upon the ground.\n\nThe Fakir waited long for the return of the parrot, but as it did not\ncome, he set out himself to find it. He was able to cross in safety by\nmaking his body invisible, and when he came to the island, the first\nthing he saw was the burnt body of the parrot lying in the garden.\n\nSo he took it up, breathed once more the breath of life into it, and\nlet it go, saying: \"Try once more, my son, but remember that I said:\n'Look not back,' but fly to my hut for safety.\"\n\nThus saying, he disappeared; and the parrot, watching its chance,\nvery silently approached the tree a second time, stole the fruit,\nand flew as fast as he could.\n\nThe dragons pursued, but he reached the hut in safety; and the old\nFakir did not lose a moment, but turned him into a small fly, and\nthen secreted the pomegranate on his person, and sat down.\n\nAlmost immediately the dragons also arrived, and said: \"Where is the\ngreen parrot who stole the fruit?\"\n\n\"Look and see,\" said the old Fakir. \"I know not what you want; no\ngreen parrot is here, nor do I know where the pomegranate is that he\ntook away.\"\n\nThen he went on quietly counting his beads while the dragons searched\neverywhere; but at last, wearied out and finding nothing, they went\naway, feeling very angry at the loss of their fairy.\n\nAs soon as they had gone, the Fakir caused the Prince to resume his\noriginal form, and, handing him the pomegranate, said: \"Go back to\nyour Palace; and when you have got there, break the pomegranate,\nand out of it will step the most beautiful woman you have ever seen;\ntake her to be your wife, and may luck go with you.\"\n\nThe young Prince then mounted his steed, and thanked the old Fakir\nfor all his assistance.\n\nAs he neared his father's Palace he came to a well in a garden, and\nhaving tied his horse to a tree, he went and rested beside the well,\nand looked at the pomegranate.\n\n\"I think I will break it now, and see if a fairy comes out, for if I\nwait to do so in my father's house before all his courtiers, suppose\nno fairy appeared, I should be ashamed to death.\"\n\nSo saying, he broke it, and immediately a most lovely woman appeared,\nbright and dazzling as the sun itself. As soon as he beheld her, he\nwas so entranced that he fell into a swoon. Then the fairy lifted his\nhead very gently, and placing it on her knee, allowed him to sleep on.\n\nWhile he slept a young woman of low caste came to draw water. Seeing\nthe beautiful fairy, she enquired of her if the sleeping man was the\nKing's youngest son, and if she was the Anar Pari whom he had gone\nto seek.\n\nHearing that this was so, she was filled with envy, and planned in\nher mind how she might take the life of the fairy. So she went up\nto her, and said: \"O fairy, you are most beautiful, but I would be\nbeautiful too if I had on your clothes: come, let us exchange our\ndresses (or sarees), and see how you look in my clothes.\"\n\nThe fairy did as she wished, and the young woman said: \"Look how\nbeautiful I am; let us go to the well and behold our reflections in\nthe water to see which is the most beautiful.\"\n\nThe fairy bent forward to see herself, and, as she did so, the\nyoung woman pushed her so that she fell into the well and sank into\nthe water.\n\nHaving done this, the wicked young woman woke up the Prince, saying:\n\"Come, let us go to the King's Palace.\"\n\nThe Prince looked doubtfully at her, but, being still half asleep, and\nseeing that she wore the same dress as Anar Pari had on, he assented,\nbelieving his passing doubt to be unreasonable.\n\nHis arrival at the Palace was made an occasion for great rejoicings,\nand all were glad that he was at last happily married.\n\nThe new Princess would never allow him to leave her, for she feared\nthat he might return to the well; but one day, unknown to her, he\nfound his way there, and looking in, saw floating upon the water a\nmost exquisite lotus lily of pure white, the most perfect flower he\nhad ever seen.\n\nHe asked his servants to hook it out for him; but each time they tried\nto do so, the flower disappeared beneath the water. At last he tried\nhimself to get it, and succeeded easily, for the lily floated towards\nthe hook that he let down.\n\nThe Prince took the flower home and looked after it with the greatest\ncare; but when his wife heard where it had come from, she went at\nnight and, tearing it into several pieces, flung it out of the window.\n\nAs the broken fragments of the lotus touched the earth, they turned\ninto a bed of mint which grew luxuriantly.\n\nSome of this mint was earned into the King's kitchen, to be used\nfor seasoning dishes; but as the cook began to fry it, a voice was\nheard from the frying pan, saying: \"Here am I, the real Princess,\nbeing fried to death, while the wicked woman who threw me into the\nwell has taken my place.\"\n\nThe cook when he heard this was afraid, and threw the mint into the\ngarden again. As soon as it touched the ground it became a lovely\ncreeper, which grew and grew until it gradually approached the\nbed-chamber of the Prince.\n\nThe false Princess when she saw it at once remembered how she had\nthrown the fragments of the lotus lily into the garden, and, fearing\nlest this might be an offshoot from it, she ordered her gardener to\nuproot the creeper and cut it down at once.\n\nThe gardener did so, but as he was removing it, the one and only fruit\non the tree fell to the ground and rolled under a jessamine bush,\nwhere it remained in security.\n\nThe gardener's daughter, who came every morning to gather flowers\nfrom this bush to weave into garlands, accidentally noticed the fruit\nlying beneath it, picked it up, and carried it home.\n\nAs she entered the gardener's little hut, the fruit fell to the ground\nand broke open, and out of it stepped the lovely Anar Pari.\n\nThe good people of the house were filled with wonder and admiration\nto see so peerless a being in their humble cottage. They gave her\nshelter and fed her, the gardener's daughter loving her as a sister,\nand the gardener as a father.\n\nOne day, as the gardener's daughter sat weaving her garlands of\njessamine for the King's Court, the fairy said: \"Please allow me to\nmake one too; and when it is ready, take it and put it on the neck\nof the youngest Prince.\"\n\nSo she made it; and when two garlands were completed they were taken to\nthe Prince and Princess. The Princess noticed that the Prince's garland\nwas made in wonderful fashion, and enquired who had made it. They told\nher that a very lovely woman living in the gardener's hut had made it,\nand, suspecting at once that this was Anar Pari come to life again,\nshe thought of some plan by which she could destroy her.\n\nThe next day she feigned great illness and a very severe headache,\nwhich she declared nothing would cure but the placing of a heart of\na young and beautiful girl on her forehead. She therefore begged for\nthe heart of the girl who lived in the gardener's hut, and orders\nwere given for her execution.\n\nThe gardener and his daughter wept most bitterly, and the executioners\nwere feign to spare the life of so lovely a woman; yet they were\nobliged to fulfil their orders, so they led the girl to the place\nof execution.\n\nBefore they killed her she begged that her limbs might be scattered\nto the four winds, and her two eyes thrown upwards into space.\n\nThe executioners did as she desired, and her heart was sent to the\nwicked Princess.\n\nAs soon as Anar Pari's eyes were thrown into the air, they became a\npair of love-birds and flew into the forest.\n\nMany days after, the Prince went to hunt in the forest, and was resting\nhimself under the trees when he heard two love-birds talking in the\nbranches, and one was telling the other the story of her life. How\nshe was once Anar Pari, a beautiful fairy, and how a wicked woman\nhad enticed her away from the side of the Prince while he slept,\nand thrown her down a well, and how the woman was now reigning in\nher stead as Princess at the Palace.\n\nThe young Prince was amazed to hear all this, and looking up, cried: \"I\nhave at last found you. Come down and be my Fairy Princess once again.\"\n\nThen two laughing, loving eyes appeared, and presently they were\nset in the form of a woman, and the Prince once again beheld the\nworld-renowned form of Anar Pari.\n\nThey went together to the Palace, and there the Prince ordered the\nfalse Princess to be brought out, and told everybody present the\nstory of her wickedness.\n\nThe sentence passed upon her was that she was to be buried alive near\nthe well; this was done, and to this day nobody dare go near it. Then\nthe Prince married the fairy, and they lived happily ever afterwards;\nbut the old gardener and his daughter were not forgotten, and very\noften the beautiful Princess sat with her friends, and the two girls\nweaved garlands together, and spoke lovingly of the time when Anar\nPari had dwelt in the old hut in the garden.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nNOTES\n\n\n[1] A dish made of rice and lentils cooked together with clarified\nbutter or ghee, and then boiled.\n\n[2] Another native dainty made with sugar, etc.\n\n[3] This is a well-directed piece of sarcasm against native\nhorse-dealers who drug their horses; also against would-be judges\nof horse-flesh.\n\n[4] The smallest current or shell money of India.\n\n[5] A than is a length of cloth which varies from five yards to twenty\nyards, or more.\n\n[6] This story was told by a Mahamedan woman, and I should think it\nwas of Mahamedan origin, as no Hindu would even distantly refer to\nthe slaughter of a cow, and such a story told by a Mahamedan to a\nHindu would cause intense ill-feeling.\n\n[7] An Indian pipe.\n\n[8] To spit upon a man in the East is considered the greatest of\nindignities.\n\n[9] The Begum's property is now in possession of the Jesuits, and\nthe priest who lives there is greatly beloved of the people.","title":"Simla Village Tales; Or, Folk Tales from the Himalayas","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":41324}