Folklore of the Santal Parganas

1909

[5]

[Contents]

Preface

The Santals are a Munda tribe, a branch of that aboriginal element
which probably entered India from the North East. At the present day
they inhabit the Eastern outskirts of the Chutia Nagpore plateau.

Originally hunters and dwellers in the jungle they are still but
indifferent agriculturists. Like the Mundas and Hos and other
representatives of the race, they are jovial in character, fond of
their rice beer, and ready to take a joke.

Their social organization is very complete; each village has its
headman or manjhi, with his assistant the paranik; the jogmanghi is
charged with the supervision of the morals of the young men and women;
the naeke is the village priest, the godet is the village constable.
Over a group of villages is the pargana or tribal chief. The Santals
are divided into exogamous septs—originally twelve in number, and
their social observances are complex, e.g. while some relations treat
each other with the greatest reserve, between others the utmost freedom
of intercourse is allowed.

Their religion is animistic, spirits (bongas) are everywhere
around them: the spirits of their ancestors, the spirit of the house,
the spirit dwelling in the patch of primeval forest preserved in each
village. Every hill tree and rock may have its spirit. These spirits
are propitiated by elaborate ceremonies and sacrifices which generally
terminate in dances, and the drinking of rice beer.

The Santal Parganas is a district 4800 sq. miles in area, lying
about 150 miles north of Calcutta, and was [6]formed into
a separate administration after the Santals had risen in rebellion in
1856. The Santals at present form about one-third of the
population.

The stories and legends which are here translated have been
collected by the Rev. O. Bodding, D.D. of the Scandinavian Mission to
the Santals. To be perfectly sure that neither language nor ideas
should in any way be influenced by contact with a European mind he
arranged for most of them to be written out in Santali, principally by
a Christian convert named Sagram Murmu, at present living at
Mohulpahari in the Santal Parganas.

Santali is an agglutinative language of great regularity and
complexity but when the Santals come in contact with races speaking an
Aryan language it is apt to become corrupted with foreign idioms. The
language in which these stories have been written is beautifully pure,
and the purity of language may be accepted as an index that the ideas
have not been affected, as is often the case, by contact with
Europeans.

My translation though somewhat condensed is very literal, and the
stories have perhaps thereby an added interest as shewing the way in
which a very primitive people look at things. The Santals are great
story tellers; the old folk of the village gather the young people
round them in the evening and tell them stories, and the men when
watching the crops on the threshing floor will often sit up all night
telling stories.

There is however, no doubt that at the present time the knowledge of
these stories tends to die out. Under the peace which British rule
brings there is more intercourse between the different communities and
castes, a considerable, degree of assimilation takes place, and old
customs and traditions tend to be obliterated.

Several collections of Indian stories have been made, e.g.
Stokes, Indian Fairy Tales; Frere, Old Deccan Days; Day, Folk Tales of
Bengal; and Knowles’ Folk Tales [7]of Kashmir, and it will be
seen that all the stories in the present collection are by no means of
pure Santal origin. Incidents which form part of the common stock of
Indian folklore abound, and many of the stories professedly relate to
characters of various Hindu castes, others again deal with such
essentially Santal beliefs as the dealings of men and
bongas.

The Rev. Dr. Campbell of Gobindpore published in 1891 a collection
of Santal Folk Tales. He gathered his material in the District of
Manbhum, and many of the stories are identical with those included in
the present volume. I have added as an appendix some
stories which I collected among the Hos of Singhbhum, a tribe closely
related to the Santals, and which the Asiatic Society of Bengal has
kindly permitted me to reprint here.

My task has been merely one of translation; it is due solely to Mr
Bodding’s influence with, and intimate knowledge of, the people
that the stories have been committed to writing, and I have to thank
him for assistance and advice throughout my work of translation.

I have roughly classified the stories: in part 1
are stories of a general character; part 2, stories
relating to animals; in part 3, stories which are
scarcely folklore but are anecdotes relating to Santal life; in
part 4, stories relating to the dealings of
bongas and men. In part 5, are some legends
and traditions, and a few notes relating to tribal customs. Part 6 contains illustrations of the belief in witchcraft. I
have had to omit a certain number of stories as unsuited for
publication.

C. H. Bompas. [9]

[Contents]

Table of Contents

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Glossary

Appendix

Folklore of the Kolhan

[15]

[Contents]

Part I.

In these stories there are many incidents which appear in stories
collected in other parts of India, though it is rather surprising that
so few of them appear elsewhere in their entirety. We have however,
instances of the husk myth, the youngest son who surpasses his brother,
the life of the ogre placed in some external object, the jealous
stepmother, the selection of a king by an elephant, the queen whose
husband is invariably killed on his wedding night, etc. etc.

Few of the old Indian stories found in the Kathâ Sarit
Sâgara or the Buddhist Birth stories appear in recognizable form
in the present collection. [17]

[Contents]

I. Bajun and Jhore.

Once upon a time there were two brothers named Bajun and Jhore.
Bajun was married and one day his wife fell ill of fever. So, as he was
going ploughing, Bajun told Jhore to stay at home and cook the dinner
and he bade him put into the pot three measures of rice. Jhore stayed
at home and filled the pot with water and put it on to boil; then he
went to look for rice measures; there was only one in the house and
Jhore thought “My brother told me to put in three measures and if
I only put in one I shall get into trouble.” So he went to a
neighbour’s house and borrowed two more measures, and put them
into the pot and left them to boil. At noon Bajun came back from
ploughing and found Jhore stirring the pot and asked him whether the
rice was ready. Jhore made no answer, so Bajun took the spoon from him,
saying “Let me feel how it is getting on”, but when he
stirred with the spoon he heard a rattling noise and when he looked
into the pot he found no rice but only three wooden measures floating
about; then he turned and abused Jhore for his folly, but Jhore said
“You yourself told me to put in three measures and I have done
so.” So Bajun had to set to work and cook the rice himself and
got his dinner very late.

Next day Bajun said to Jhore, “You don’t know how to
cook the dinner; I will stay at home to-day, you go to plough, and take
a hatchet with you and if the plough catches in a root or anything,
give a cut with the hatchet.” So Jhore went ploughing and when
the plough caught in anything and stopped, he gave a cut with his
hatchet [18]at the legs of the bullocks; they backed and
plunged with the pain and then he only chopped at them the more until
he lamed them both. At noon Bajun saw the bullocks come limping back
and asked what was the matter with them. “O,” said Jhore,
“that is because I cut at them as you told me.” “You
idiot,” said Bajun, “I meant you to give a cut at the roots
in which the plough got caught, not at the legs of the bullocks; how
will you live if you do such silly things? You cannot plough, you must
stay at home and cook the rice. I will show you this evening how it is
done.” So after that Jhore stayed at home and cooked.
Bajun’s wife grew no better, so one day Bajun, before he went to
the fields, told Jhore to warm some water in order that his wife might
wash with it. But Jhore made the water boiling hot and then took it and
began to pour it over his sister-in-law as she lay on her bed; she was
scalded and shrieked out “Don’t pour it over me,” but
Jhore only laughed and went on pouring until he had scalded her to
death. Then he wrapped her up in a cloth and brought her dinner to her
and offered it her to eat, but she was dead and made no answer to him,
so he left it by her and went and ate his own rice. When Bajun came
back and found his wife scalded to death he was very angry and went to
get an axe to kill Jhore with; thereupon Jhore ran away into the jungle
and Bajun pursued him with the axe.

In the jungle Jhore found a dead sheep and he took out its stomach
and called out “Where are you, brother, I have found some
meat.” But Bajun answered, “I will not leave you till I
have killed you.” So Jhore ran on and climbed up inside a hollow
tree, where Bajun could not follow, Bajun got a long stick and poked at
him with it and as he poked, Jhore let fall the sheep’s stomach,
and when Bajun saw it he concluded that he had killed his brother. So
he went home and burned [19]the body of his wife and a few days
later he performed the funeral ceremonies to the memory of his wife and
brother; he smeared the floor of the house with cowdung and sacrificed
goats and fowls. Now Jhore had come back that day and climbed up on to
the rafters of the house, and he sat there watching all that his
brother did. Bajun cooked a great basket of rice and stewed the flesh
of the animals he had sacrificed and offered it to the spirits of the
dead and he recited the dedication “My wife I offer this rice,
this food, for your purification,” and so saying he scattered
some rice on the ground; and he also offered to Jhore, saying,
“Jhore, my brother, I offer this rice, this food, for your
purification,” and then Jhore called out from the roof
“Well, as you offer it to me I will take it.” Bajun had not
bargained to get any answer, so he was astounded and went to ask the
villagers whether their spirits made answer when sacrificed to: and the
villagers told him that they had never heard of such a thing. While
Bajun was away on this errand, Jhore took up the unguarded basket of
rice and ran away with it; after going some way he sat down by the road
and ate as much as he wanted, then he sat and called out “Is
there anyone on the road or in the jungle who wants a feast?” A
gang of thieves who were on a thieving expedition heard him and went to
see what he meant; he offered to let them eat the rice if they would
admit him to their company; they agreed and he went on with them to
steal; they broke into a rich man’s house and the thieves began
to collect the pots and pans but Jhore felt about in the dark and got
hold of a drum and began to beat on it. This woke up the people of the
house and they drove away the thieves. Then the thieves abused Jhore
and said that they could not let him stay with them: “Very
well”, said he, “then give me back the rice you ate.”
Of [20]course they could not do this. So they had to let
him stay with them. Then they went to the house of a rich Hindu who had
a stable full of horses and they planned to steal the horses and ride
away with them; so each thief picked out a horse, but Jhore got hold of
a tiger which had come to the back of the stable to kill one of the
horses; and when the thieves mounted their horses, Jhore mounted on the
tiger, and the tiger ran off with him towards the jungle. Jhore kept on
calling out “Keep to the road, you Hindu horse, keep to the road,
you Hindu horse.” But it dragged him through the briars and
bushes till he was dead and that was the end of Jhore.

[Contents]

II. Anuwa and His Mother.

Once there was a young fellow named Anuwa who lived with his old
mother, and when he was out ploughing his mother used to take him his
breakfast. One day a jackal met her on her way to the field with her
son’s breakfast and told her to put down the food which she was
carrying or he would knock her down and bite her; so she put it down in
a fright and the jackal ate most of it and then went away and the old
woman took what was left to her son and told him nothing about what had
happened. This happened several days in succession; at last one day
Anuwa asked her why she brought so little rice and that so untidily
arranged; so she told him how she was attacked every day by the jackal.
Then they made a plan that the next day the mother should take the
plough afield, while Anuwa should dress up as an old woman and carry
the breakfast. This they did and the jackal met Anuwa as usual and made
him put down the breakfast basket, but while the jackal was eating,
Anuwa knocked him head over heels with his stick; and the jackal got up
and fled, threatening [21]and cursing Anuwa. Among other things the
jackal as he ran away, had threatened to eat Anuwa’s
malhan plants, so Anuwa put a fence of thorns round them and
when the jackal came at night and tried to eat the pods he only got his
nose pricked.

Foiled in this the jackal called out “Well, I will eat your
fowls to-morrow;” but Anuwa the next night sat by the fowl house
with a sickle and when the jackal came and poked in his head, Anuwa
gave him a rap on the snout with the sickle, so the jackal made off
crying “Well, Anuwa, your fowls have pecked me on the head, you
shall die.” So the next day Anuwa pretended to be dead and his
mother went about crying; she took her way to the jungle and there she
met the jackal and she told him that Anuwa had died in consequence of
his curse and she invited him to the funeral feast, saying that he used
to eat the rice which she had cooked and he had become like a son to
her. The jackal gladly promised to attend, and he collected a number of
his friends and at evening they went to Anuwa’s house and sat
down in the courtyard. Then the old woman came out and began to bewail
her son: but the jackal said “Stop crying, grannie, you cannot
get back the dead: let us get on to the feast.” So she said that
she would fry some cakes first, as it would take some time before the
rice was ready. The jackals approved of this but they asked her to tie
them up with a rope first lest they should get to fighting over the
food, so the old woman brought a thick rope and tied them all up and
tightest of all she tied up the jackal which had cursed Anuwa; then she
went inside and put an iron pan on the fire and from time to time she
sprinkled water on it and when the jackals heard the water hissing they
thought that it was the cakes frying and jumped about with joy.
Suddenly Anuwa came out with a thick stick and set to beating the
jackals till they bit through [22]the ropes and ran away howling; but
the first jackal was tied so tightly that he could not escape, and
Anuwa beat him till he was senseless and lay without moving all night.
The next morning Anuwa took the jackal and tied him to a stake near the
place where the village women drew water and he put a thick stick
beside it and every woman who went for water would give the jackal one
blow with the stick. After a few days beating the body of the jackal
became all swollen and one night some other jackals came there and
asked him what he ate that he had got so fat and he said that every one
who came to draw water gave him a handful of rice and that was why he
was so fat; and if they did not believe him they could take his place
and try for themselves.

So one jackal agreed to try and untied the first jackal and let
himself be tied in his place, but in the morning five women came down
and each gave him a blow with the stick till he jumped about for pain,
and seeing him jumping other women came and beat him till he died.

[Contents]

III. Ledha and the Leopard.

Once upon a time a boy named Ledha was tending cattle with other
boys at the foot of a hill, and these boys in fun used to call out
“Ho, leopard: Ho, leopard,” and the echo used to answer
from the hill “Ho, leopard.” Now there really was a leopard
who lived in the hill and one day he was playing hide and seek with a
lizard which also lived there. The lizard hid and the leopard looked
every where for it in vain. At last the leopard sat down to rest and it
chanced that he sat right on top of the lizard which was hiding in a
hole. The lizard thought that the leopard meant to hurt it and in
revenge bit him and fastened on to his rump so that [23]he could
not get it off, so that day when the boys came calling out “Ho,
leopard,” he ran towards them to get their help: but when they
saw the leopard they all fled for their lives. Ledha however could not
run fast because he was lame, and the leopard headed him off and begged
him to remove the lizard. This he did after the leopard had sworn not
to eat him, and before they parted the leopard made him promise to tell
no one that the lizard had bitten him, and said that if he told then he
would be carried off and eaten. So Ledha rejoined his companions and
told them nothing of what had passed between him and the leopard. But
that night when they had all gone to bed, Ledha’s sister-in-law
began to worry him to tell her what the leopard had said to him, when
it had caught him. He told her that the leopard would eat him if he
told, but she coaxed him and said that no one could hear them inside
the house; so at last he told her that he had taken off a lizard which
was hanging on to its rump. Then they went to sleep; but the leopard
was hiding at the back of the house and heard all that they said; and
when they were all asleep, he crept in and carried off Ledha’s
bed with Ledha in it on his head. When Ledha woke up towards morning,
he found himself being carried through dense jungle and he quietly
pulled himself up into one of the trees which overhung the path. Thus
when the leopard put down the bed and was going to eat Ledha, he found
it empty. So he went back on his track and by and bye came to the tree
in which Ledha was hiding. The leopard begged Ledha to come down, as he
had something to say to him, and promised not to eat him; but directly
Ledha reached the ground the leopard said “Now I am going to eat
you.” Ledha was powerless, so he only asked to be allowed to have
one chew of tobacco before he died; the leopard assented and Ledha felt
in his cloth [24]for his tobacco, but the tobacco did not come out
easily and as Ledha felt about for it the dry tobacco leaves crackled;
the leopard asked what the crackling sound was, and Ledha said
“That is the lizard which bit you yesterday;” then the
leopard got into a terrible fright and ran away as hard as he could,
calling out “Don’t let it loose: Don’t let it
loose.”

So Ledha was saved from the leopard, but he did not know his way out
of the jungle. He wandered about, till he came to the place where the
wild buffaloes used to sleep at night, and he swept up the place and
made it clean and then took refuge in a hollow tree; he stayed there
some days, sweeping up the place daily and supporting himself on the
fruit of a fig-tree. At last one day the buffaloes left one cow behind
to watch and see who it was who swept up their sleeping place. The cow
pretended to be too ill to rise, and Ledha after watching for some time
came out and swept the ground as usual, and then tried to pull the sick
cow up by the tail; but she would not move so he went back to his
hollow tree. When the buffaloes returned they heard that it was a
kindhearted man who cleaned their sleeping place; so they called Ledha
out and said that they would keep him as their servant to clean their
sleeping place and to scrub them when they bathed in the river; they
made him taste the milk of all the cows and appointed the cow whose
milk he liked best to supply him. Thenceforward he used to wander about
with the buffaloes and he made a flute and used to play on it.

One day after scrubbing the buffaloes he washed his head in the
river and some of his hairs came out; so he wrapped them up in a leaf
and set the packet to float down the stream. Lower down the stream two
princesses were bathing with their attendants, and when they saw the
packet they tried who could fish it out [25]and it was the younger
princess who caught it. Then they measured the hairs and found them
twelve cubits long. The princess who had taken the packet from the
water went home and took to her bed and said that she would not eat
until the man was found to whom the hairs belonged. Her father, the
Raja, sent messengers in all directions to search for the man but they
could not find him. Then he sent a parrot and the parrot flew up high
and looking down saw Ledha with the buffaloes in the forest; but it did
not dare to go near, so the parrot returned and told the Raja that the
man was in the forest but that no messenger could approach for fear of
the wild buffaloes. However a crow said, “I can bring him if any
one can,” so they sent the crow and it went and perched on the
backs of the buffaloes and began to peck them; then Ledha threw stones
at it, but it would not go away; then he threw a stick at it and last
of all he threw his flute. The crow caught up the flute and flew up to
a tree with it. Ledha ran after it, but the crow kept flying on a short
distance and Ledha still pursued until he came to the Raja’s
city. The crow flew on till it entered the room where the princess lay,
and dropped the flute into the hands of the princess. Ledha followed
right into the room and they shut him in and the princess gave him his
flute after he had promised to marry her.

So he stayed there a long time, but meanwhile the buffaloes all got
weak and ill for want of some one to look after them. One day Ledha set
off to the jungle with his wife to see them and when he saw how ill the
buffaloes were, he decided to build a house in the jungle and live
there. And the Raja sent them money and horses and cattle and elephants
and servants and they built a palace and Ledha subdued all the jungle
and became a great Raja; and he made a highway to his
father-in-law’s home and used to go to and fro on it.
[26]

[Contents]

IV. The Cruel Stepmother.

There was once a Raja whose wife died leaving him with one young
child. He reared it with great care and when it could toddle about it
took a great fancy to a cat; the child was always playing with it and
carrying it about.

All his friends begged the Raja to marry again, but he said that he
was sure that a stepmother would be cruel to his child; at last they
persuaded him to promise to marry again, if a bride could be found who
would promise to care for the child as her own, so his friends looked
out for a bride; but though they found plenty of girls who were anxious
to marry the Raja, not one would promise to care for his child as her
own. There was a young widow in a certain village who heard of what was
going on, and one day she asked whether a bride had been found for the
Raja and she was told that no one was willing to take charge of the
child. “Why don’t they agree,” said she, “I
would agree fast enough. If I were Rani I should have nothing to do but
look after the child and I would care for it more than its own mother
could.” This came to the ears of the Raja and he sent for the
widow and was pleased with her looks, and when she promised to love his
child as her own, he married her.

At first no one could be kinder to the child than she was, but in
the course of time she had a child of her own and then she began to be
jealous of the elder child; and she thought daily how she could get rid
of him. He was still devoted to his cat and one day when he came back
to the house, he asked his stepmother where the cat was. She answered
angrily, “The cat has bewitched the boy! It is ‘cat,
cat,’ all day long.” At this the child began to cry; so she
found the cat [27]and threw it to him, saying, “Here is your
cat: you are mad about your cat.” But the boy hugged it in his
arms and kept on crying at his stepmother’s cross words. As he
would not keep quiet his stepmother got more angry still; and catching
hold of the cat she scratched her own arms and legs with the
cat’s claws until the blood flowed; then she began to cry and
scold and when the neighbours came to see what was the matter, she told
them that the boy had let his cat scratch her; and the neighbours saw
that she was not loving the boy as she promised.

Presently the Raja came in and asked what was the matter; she turned
and scolded him saying: “You have reared the accursed cat and it
has scratched me finely; look, it has taken all the skin off; this is
the way the boy repays me for all my trouble. I will not stay with you;
if I stay the boy will injure me like this again.” The Raja said,
“Don’t cry like a baby; how can a simple child like that
know better? when he grows up I will scold him.” But the woman
persisted and declared that she would go away with her own child unless
the Raja promised to kill his elder son. The Raja refused to do this,
so the Rani took up her baby and went out of the house with it in a
rage. Now the Raja was deeply in love with her and he followed and
stopped her, and said that he could not let her take away his younger
child; she answered, “Why trouble about the child? it is mine; I
have left you your boy, if you don’t kill him, when he grows up,
he will tell you some lie about me and make you have me beaten to
death.” At last the Raja said “Well, come back and if the
boy does you any harm I will kill him.” But the Rani said.
“Either kill him now or let me go.” So at last the Raja
promised and brought her back to the palace. Then the Raja called the
boy and gave him his dinner and told him that they were going on a
visit to his uncle’s: and the [28]child was delighted and fetched
his shoes and umbrella, and off they set, and a dog came running after
them. When they came to a jungle the Raja told his son to sit under a
tree and wait for him, and he went away and killed the dog that had
followed them and smeared the blood on his axe and went home, leaving
the child.

When his father did not return, the child began to cry, and Thakur
heard him and came down, and to frighten the boy and make him leave the
jungle he came in the guise of a leopard; but the child would not move
from where he was; then Thakur appeared as a bear, and as a snake and
an elephant and in many other forms but the child would not move; so at
last Thakur took the form of an old woman, who lifted him in her arms
and soothed him and carried him to the edge of the jungle and left him
on the outskirts of a village.

In the morning a rich Brahman found him and took him home, and as no
one claimed the child he brought him up and made him his goat-herd, and
they gave him the name of Lela. The Brahman’s sons and daughters
used to go school, and before he took his goats out to graze Lela used
to carry their books to the school. And going to the school every day
Lela got to know one or two letters and used to draw them in the sand
while minding his goats; later he got the children to give him an old
book saying that he wanted to pretend to the other boys that he could
read and out of this book he taught himself to read: and as he grew up
he became quite a scholar. One day he picked up a letter and found that
it was from one of the village girls arranging to elope that very
evening with a young man. At the appointed time Lela went to the
rendez-vous and hid himself in a tree; soon he saw the Brahman’s
daughter come to the place, but as her letter had not been delivered
her lover did not appear. The girl got tired of waiting and then she
began to call to [29]her lover, thinking that perhaps he was hiding for
a joke. When she called, Lela answered from the tree and she thought
that it was her lover and said “Come down and let us be
off.” So Lela came down and they started off together; when day
dawned she saw that it was Lela who was with her and she sat down and
upbraided him for deceiving her. Lela said that they had met by chance;
he had not enticed her away, no harm had been done and she could go
home if she liked or come away with him if she liked. The girl
considered but she saw that if she went home now she would be disgraced
and her family would be outcasted, so in the end she agreed to run away
with Lela.

They went on and after travelling some days they came to a great
city, where they took up their quarters in a tumble-down house and the
next morning Lela went into the city to look for work. He went to the
cutcherry and enrolled himself as a muktear (attorney) and soon
the litigants and the magistrates found out how clever he was and he
acquired a big practice. One day the Raja said, “This fellow is
very handsome, I wonder what his wife is like?” And he sent an
old woman to see; so the old woman went and got into conversation with
Lela’s wife and returned to the Raja and told him that none of
his wives was so beautiful as Lela’s wife; so the Raja determined
to go and see her himself, and as the old woman said that she would
hide herself in the house if she saw the Raja coming, he disguised
himself as a poor man and went and saw her; he found that the old woman
had not exaggerated and he determined to possess himself of
Lela’s wife. He had first to get Lela out of the way, so he sent
for him and said, “You are a fine fellow and have given me
satisfaction. I have one more commission for you, if you perform it I
will give you half my kingdom and my sister in marriage.” Lela
said that he must [30]hear what it was before he made any promise.
The Raja said “It is this: in a certain mountain grows the
Chandmoni Kusum flower; bring it to me and I will give you what I have
promised:”—but the Raja felt sure that if Lela went to the
mountain he would be eaten by the Rakhas (ogress) who dwelt there. Lela
said that he would go if the Raja gave him a written bond In the
presence of witnesses; and this the Raja willingly did. Then Lela went
and told his wife and she said, “This is excellent: I have a
younger sister in the mountain, her name is Chandmoni and it was she
who planted the Chandmoni Kusum flower; when you get there call her by
her name and she will certainly give you the flower.”

So Lela started off and when he was gone his wife fell ill, and her
body became a mass of sores. Directly Lela was out of the way, the Raja
sent the old woman to see what his wife was doing and she brought back
word that she was afflicted with illness; so the Raja sent medicines
and told the old woman to nurse her. Lela went off and came to the cave
in the mountain where Chandmoni lived with the Rakhas; and the Rakhas
was away hunting men, so Lela called out Chandmoni and told her who he
was and begged her to hide him; then they planned how they should kill
the Rakhas, and she hid him in the cave; presently the Rakhas returned
and said to Chandmoni “I smell a man: where is he?” But
Chandmoni said that there was no one there but herself; and that the
smell was probably due to the Rakhas having been eating human flesh and
recommended her to anoint herself with hot ghee. The Rakhas agreed: so
Chandmoni put a great iron pan of ghee on to boil, and when it was
boiling she called the Rakhas, and as the Rakhas was leaning over the
pan, Lela ran out and pushed her into the boiling ghee and she died.
Then Chandmoni asked Lela [31]why he had come, and he told her,
“to fetch the flower.” She promised to give it to him but
asked what was to become of her now that the ogress with whom she lived
was dead. Lela promised to take her with him, so they cut off the
tongue and ears and claws of the Rakhas and returned to the city. And
directly Lela returned, his first wife recovered from her illness.

Then the Raja saw that it was useless to contend with Lela, and he
gave him half his kingdom and married him to his sister according to
his bond. So Lela lived with his three Ranis and they bore him children
and after some years he told them that he was the son of a Raja and he
wished to visit his own country and see whether his father was alive.
So they set out in great style with horses and elephants and came to
the town where Lela’s father lived. Now five or six days after
abandoning Lela, his father had become blind and, he made over the
management of his kingdom to a Dewan, and the Dewan and the Rani
managed everything. When the Dewan heard that Lela had come with a
great force he thought that he would loot the country and he ran away
in fear. Then Lela sent word to his father to come to him, as he was
the son who had been abandoned in the jungle, so the Raja set forth
joyfully and after he had gone a few paces he began to see dimly, and
by the time that he came to Lela’s camp he had quite recovered
his eyesight. When they met, father and son embraced and wept over each
other; and Lela ordered a feast to be prepared and while this was being
done a maidservant came running to say that the wicked Rani had hanged
herself, so they went and burned the body and then returned and enjoyed
the feast. Then the Raja resigned his kingdom to Lela and the ryots
begged him to stay and rule over them; so he remained there and lived
happily ever after. [32]

[Contents]

V. Karmu and Dharmu.

There were once two brothers Karmu and Dharmu. Karmu was a farmer
and Dharmu was a trader; once when Dharmu was away from home Karmu gave
a religious feast and did not invite Dharmu’s household; when
Dharmu returned and learnt this, he told his wife that he also would
perform the ceremonies in his house, so they set to work and were
employed in cooking rice and vegetables far into the night; and Karam
Gosain came down to see what preparations Dharmu was making in his
honour, and he watched from the back of the house.

Just then Dharmu strained off the water from the cooked rice and
threw it out of the window, and it fell on Karam Gosain and scalded
him, and as the flies and insects worried the wound, Karam Gosain went
off to the Ganges and buried himself in the middle of the stream. As he
had thus offended Karam Gosain, all Dharmu’s undertakings failed
and he fell into deep poverty, and had not even enough to eat, so he
had to take service with his brother Karmu. When the time for
transplanting the rice came, Dharmu used to plough and dig the ditches
and mend the gaps along with the day labourers. Karmu told him not to
work himself but act as overseer of the other labourers, and the
labourers also told him that it was not suitable for him to work as a
labourer himself, but Dharmu said that he must earn his wages and
insisted on working; and in the same way Dharmu’s wife might have
acted as overseer of the women, but she was ashamed not to work
too.

One day they were transplanting the rice and Karmu brought out
breakfast for the labourers; he told Dharmu and his wife to wash their
hands and come and eat; but they answered that they belonged to the
household [33]and that the hired labourers should be fed first,
so the labourers ate and they ate up all the rice and there was nothing
left for Dharmu and his wife. When the midday meal was brought the same
thing happened, Dharmu and his wife got nothing; but they hoped that it
would be made up to them when the wages were paid, and worked on
fasting. At evening when they came to pay the wages in kind,
Dharmu’s name was called out first, but he told his brother to
pay the labourers first, and in doing this the paddy was all used up
and there was nothing left for Dharmu and his wife; so they went home
sorrowfully and their children cried for food and they had nothing to
give them. In the night Dharmu’s wife said “They promised
to pay us for merely looking after the work and instead, we worked hard
and have still got nothing. We will not work for them anymore; come,
let us undo the work we did to-day, you cut down the embankments you
repaired, and I will uproot the seedlings which I planted.” So
they went out into the night to do this. But whenever Dharmu raised his
spade a voice called out “Hold, hold!” And whenever his
wife put out her hand to pull up the rice a voice called out
“Hold, hold!” Then they said “Who are you who stop
us?” And the voice answered “You have done evil and
offended Karam Gosain by scalding him; this is why you have become poor
and to-day have worked without food and without wages; he has gone to
the Ganges and you must go and propitiate him.” And they asked
how they should propitiate him, and the voice said “Grind
turmeric and put it on a plate, and buy new cloth and dye it with
turmeric and make ready oil and take these things to the Ganges and
call on Karam Gosain.” And they believed the voice and the next
day did as it commanded, and set off, leaving their children in charge
of Karmu. On the way they came to a fig-tree full of figs and they
[34]went to eat the fruit; but when they got near they
found that all the figs were full of grubs, and they sang:—

“Exhausted by hunger we came to a fig-tree,

And found it full of grubs,

O Karam Gosain, how far off are you?”

Then they came to a mango tree and the same thing happened. And they
went on and saw a cow with a calf; and they thought that they would
milk the cow and drink the milk, but when they went to catch it it ran
away from them and would not let itself be caught; and they
sang:—

“We go to catch the cow and it runs away,

We go to catch the calf and it runs away,

O Karam Gosain how far off are you?”

But the cow said to them—“Go to the banks of the
Ganges.” Then they came to a buffalo and went to milk it, but it
lowered its head and charged them; and Dharam cried but his wife said
“Don’t cry” and sang:—

“If you go to catch the buffalo, Dharmu,

It will kill you.

How shall we drink milk? How shall we drink milk?

How far off are you, O our Karam Gosain?”

And the buffalo said “Go on to the bank of the Ganges.”
Then they came to a horse and they thought that they would catch it and
mount it, but it kicked and snorted; and they sang:—

“Dharmu tries to catch the horse:

But it kicks and runs away.

How shall we reach the Ganges?

O Karam Gosain, how far off are you?”

And the horse said “Go to the banks of the Ganges.” Then
they saw an elephant but it would not let them approach, so they
decided to push on straight for the [35]river; and they saw under a
banyan tree a large pot full of rupees, but they were so disheartened
that they made no attempt to touch it; then they met a woman who asked
where they were going and when she heard, she said “For twelve
years I have had a pai measure stuck on my throat; ask Karam
Gosain for me how I am to get rid of it,” and they promised; and
going on they met a woman with a bundle of thatching grass stuck to her
head; and she made them promise to ask Karam Gosain how she could be
freed; then they met a woman with both her feet burning in a fire and
another with a stool stuck fast to her back and they promised to
enquire how these might be delivered.

So at last they came to the Ganges and they stood on the bank and
called to Karam Gosain; and when he came they caught hold of him and he
said “Fie, what low caste person is touching me?” But they
said. “It is no low caste person, but Dharmu.” Then they
bathed him and anointed him with oil and turmeric and wrapped him in
the new cloth which they had brought, and thus they persuaded him to
return; so they rose up to go back, and Dharmu asked about the women
whom they had met, and Karam Gosain said: “The woman has a stool
stuck to her back because when visitors came she never offered them a
seat; let her do so in future, and she will be freed; and the woman has
her feet burning in the fire because she pushed the fuel into the fire
with her foot; let her not do so in future, and she will be freed; and
the woman has the thatching grass stuck to her head because when she
saw a friend with straw sticking in her hair she did not tell her about
it; let her do so in future and she will be freed; and the woman has
the pai measure stuck to her throat because, when her neighbour wanted
to borrow her measure, she would not lend it; let her do so in future
and she will be freed.” And Karam Gosain asked whether
[36]they had seen an elephant and a horse and a
buffalo and a cow and money and mangoes and figs and Dharmu said
“Yes,” but that he had not been able to catch the animals
and the fruit was bad. Karam Gosain promised them that on their way
back they should take possession of all; and they did so and mounted on
the elephant and returned to their home with great wealth. On their way
they met the four women and told them how they could be saved from
their troubles. The villagers welcomed Dharmu and he arranged a great
feast and gave paddy to all the villagers to husk; but when they had
boiled it the weather became cloudy so that they could not dry it, so
they prayed to the sun and he at once shone out and dried the
paddy.

Then a day was fixed and they prepared rice beer, and worshipped
Karam Gosain and they danced all night and got very drunk and enjoyed
themselves.

[Contents]

VI. The Jealous Stepmother.

There was once a man whose wife died leaving him with one son and
after a year he married again. The second wife was very jealous of the
son and she told her husband that she would not stay with him unless he
killed the boy; at first he refused but she insisted and then he said
that he was frightened to do the deed, but she might kill the boy
herself if she liked. She said, “No: he is your son and you must
kill him; if he were mine I would do it. You need not be frightened;
when you take him out ploughing make him drive the front plough, and
you sharpen your plough pole to a point and drive it into him from
behind and kill him and then it will seem to be an accident.” So
the man promised and made a sharp point to his plough pole but whenever
they ploughed, the son drove his plough so fast that the father could
not catch him up and so the [37]boy was not killed; then the woman
abused her husband and said that he was deceiving her. So he promised
to finish the business the next day and told her to give the boy a good
hot breakfast before they started, so that he might receive one last
kindness, and he said that they must find some other way of killing him
because all the ploughing was finished; but his wife told him he could
plough down their crop of goondli, the bullocks would stop to
eat the goondli as they went along and so he would easily catch
up his son. Accordingly the next morning father and son took out the
ploughs and the boy asked where they should plough, and the father said
that they would plough down the field of goondli. But the boy
said “Why should we do that? it is a good crop and will be ripe
in a day or two; it is too late to sow again, we shall lose this crop
and who knows whether we shall get anything in its place?”

And the father thought ‘What the boy says is true; the first
crop is like the first child, if I kill him who will support me in my
old age? Who knows whether my second wife will have children. I will
not kill him however angry she be;’ so they unyoked their ploughs
and went home. He told his wife that he would not kill the boy and
scolded her and ended by giving her a beating. Then she ran away in a
passion but he did not trouble to go and look for her and in a few days
her father and brothers brought her back, and her husband told them
what had happened and they also scolded her and told her to mend her
ways.

[Contents]

VII. The Pious Woman.

There was once a very pious woman and her special virtue was that
she would not eat or drink on any day until she had first given alms to
a beggar. One day no beggar came to her house, so by noon she got tired
[38]of waiting, and, tying in her cloth some parched
rice, she went to the place where the women drew water. When she got
there she saw a Jugi coming towards her, she greeted him and said that
she had brought dried rice for him. He said that omens had bidden him
come to her and that he came to grant her a boon: she might ask one
favour and it would be given her. The woman said: “Grant me this
boon—to know where our souls go after death, and to see at the
time of death how they escape, whether through the nose or the mouth,
and where they go to; and tell me when I shall die and where my soul
will go to; this I ask and no more.” Then the Jugi answered,
“Your prayer is granted, but you must tell no one; if you do, the
power will depart from you.” So saying he took from his bag
something like a feather and brushed her eyes with it and washed them
with water. Then the woman’s eyes were opened and she saw
spirits—bongas, bhuts, dains, churins, and the souls of
dead men; and the Jugi told her not to be afraid, but not to speak to
them lest men should think her mad; then he took his leave, and she
returned home. Now in the village lived a poor man and his wife and
they were much liked because they were industrious and obedient;
shortly afterwards this poor man died and the pious woman saw men come
with a palankin and take away the poor man’s soul with great
ceremony. She was pleased at the sight and thought that the souls of
all men were taken away like this. But shortly afterwards her
father-in-law died. He had been a rich man, but harsh, and while the
family were mourning the pious woman saw four sipahis armed with
iron-shod staves and of fierce countenance come to the house and two
entered and took the father-in-law by the neck and thrust him forth;
they bound him and beat him, they knocked him down and as he could not
walk they dragged him away by his legs. The woman [39]followed
him to the end of the garden and when she saw him being dragged away,
she screamed. When her husband’s relatives saw her screaming and
crying they were angry and said that she must have killed her
father-in-law by witchcraft, for she did not sit by the corpse and cry
but went to the end of the garden. So after the body had been burnt
they held a council and questioned her and told her that they would
hold her to be a witch, if she could not explain. So she told them of
the power which the Jugi had conferred on her and of what she had seen,
and they believed her and acquitted her of the charge of witchcraft;
but from that time she lost her power and saw no more spirits.

[Contents]

VIII. The Wise Daughter-in-Law.

There was once a rich man who had seven sons, but one day his wife
died and after this the family fell into poverty. All their property
was sold and they lived by selling firewood in the bazar. At last the
wife of the eldest son said to her father-in-law. “I have a
proposal to make: Do you choose one of us to be head of the family whom
all shall obey; we cannot all be our own masters as at present.”
The old man said “Well, I choose you,” and he assembled the
whole family and made them promise to obey the wife of his eldest
son.

Thereupon she told them that they must all go out into the fields
and bring her whatever they found. So the next day they went out in
different directions and the old man found some human excrement and he
thought “Well, my daughter-in-law told me to bring whatever I
found” so he wrapped it up in leaves and took it home; and his
daughter-in-law told him that he had done well and bade him hang up the
packet at the back of the house. A few days later he found the slough
of a snake and he took that home and his daughter-in-law told
[40]to tie a clod of earth to it to prevent its being
blown away, and to throw it on to the roof of the house.

Some years after the Raja of the country was ill with cancer of the
face and none of the ojhas could cure him. At last one
ojha said that there was only one medicine which could effect a
cure, but he saw no chance of obtaining it and that was human excrement
12 years old. Then the Raja sent messengers throughout the kingdom
offering a reward of 200 Rupees to any one who could supply excrement
twelve years old; and when a messenger came to the village where this
family lived the daughter-in-law produced the packet which the old man
had brought home and received the reward of 200 Rupees; and they were
all delighted at making so much money by what the old man had brought
home in jest.

And again it happened that the son of a Raja was bathing and he left
his gold belt on the bank and a kite thought it was a snake and flew
off with it. The prince was much distressed at the loss but the Raja
told him not to grieve as the kite must have dropped it somewhere and
he would offer a reward of a thousand rupees for it. Now the kite had
soon found that the belt was not good to eat and seeing the
snake’s skin which the old man had thrown on to the roof of the
house, it dropped the belt and flew off with the skin; and the
daughter-in-law picked up the belt and when criers came round offering
a reward she produced it and received the money. And they praised her
wisdom and by this means the family became rich again.

[Contents]

IX. The Oilman and His Sons.

There was once an oilman with five sons and they were all married
and lived jointly with their father. But the daughters-in-law were
discontented with this [41]arrangement and urged their husbands to ask
their father to divide the family property. At first the old man
refused, but when his sons persisted, he told them to bring him a log
two cubits long and so thick that two hands could just span it, and he
said that if they could break the log in two, he would divide the
property; so they brought the log and then asked for axes, but he told
them that they must break it themselves by snapping it or twisting it
or standing on it; so they tried and failed. Then the old man said,
“You are five and I make six; split the log into six,” So
they split it and he gave each a piece and told them to break them, and
each easily snapped his stick; then the old man said “We are like
the whole log: we have plenty of property and are strong and can
overcome attack; but if we separate we shall be like the split sticks
and easily broken.” They admitted that this was true and proposed
that the property should not be divided but that they should all become
separate in mess. But the father would not agree to this for he thought
that people would call him a miser if he let his sons live separately
without his giving them their share in the property as their own, So as
they persisted in their folly he partitioned the property.

But in a few years they all fell into poverty and had not enough to
eat nor clothes to wear, and the father and mother were no better off;
then the old man called all his sons and their wives and said
“You see what trouble you have fallen into; I have a riddle for
you, explain it to me. There are
four wells, three empty and one full of water; if you draw water from
the full one and pour it into the three empty ones they will become
full; but when they are full and the first one is empty, if you pour
water from the three full ones into the empty one it will not be
filled; what does this mean?” And they could not answer and he
said, “The four wells mean [42]that a man had three sons, and
while they were little he filled their stomachs as the wells were
filled with water; but when they separated they would not fill the old
man’s stomach.”

And it was true, that the sons had done nothing to help their father
and they were filled with shame and they agreed that as long as their
father lived they would be joint with him and would not separate again
until he died.

[Contents]

X. The Girl Who Found Helpers.

Once upon a time there were seven brothers, and they were all
married, and they had one sister who was not married. The brothers went
away to a far country for a whole year, leaving their wives at home.
Now the wives hated their sister-in-law and did their best to torment
her. So one day they gave her a pot full of holes and told her to bring
it back full of water; and threatened that if she failed she should
have no food. So she took the pot to the spring and there sat down and
cried and sang:—

“I am fetching water in a pot full of holes,

I am fetching water in a pot full of holes,

How far away have my brothers gone to trade.”

After she had cried a long time, a number of frogs came up out of
the water and asked her what was the matter, and she told them that she
must fill the pot with water, and was not allowed to stop the holes
with clay or lac. Then they told her not to cry, and said, that they
would sit on the holes and then the water would not run out; they did
this and the girl dried her eyes and filled the pot with water and took
it home. Her sisters-in-law were much disappointed at her success, but
the next day they told her to go to the jungle and bring back a bundle
of leaves, but she was to use no [43]rope for tying them up. So she
went to the jungle and collected the leaves and then sat down and cried
and sang:—

“I am to fetch leaves without a rope

I am to fetch leaves without a rope

How far have my brothers gone to trade?”

and as she cried a buka sobo snake came out and asked why she
was crying, and when she told it, it said that it would coil itself
round the leaves in place of a rope. So it stretched itself out
straight and she piled the leaves on the top of it and the snake coiled
itself tightly round them and so she was able to carry the bundle home
on her head. Her sisters-in-law ran to see how she managed it, but she
put the bundle down gently and the snake slipped away unperceived.
Still they resolved to try again; so the next day they sent her to
fetch a bundle of fire wood, but told her that she was to use no rope
to tie it with. So she went to the jungle and collected the sticks and
then sat down and cried:—

“I am to bring wood without tying it,

I am to bring wood without tying it,

How far have my brothers gone to trade?”

and as she cried a python came out and asked what was the matter,
and when it heard, it told her not to cry and said that it would act as
a rope to bind up the sticks; so it stretched itself out and she laid
the sticks on it and then it coiled itself round them and she carried
the bundle home.

As the sisters-in-law had been baffled thus, they resolved on
another plan and proposed that they should all go and gather sticks in
the jungle; and on the way they came to a machunda tree in full
flower and they wanted to pick some of the flowers. The wicked
sisters-in-law at first began to climb the tree, but they pretended
that they could not and kept slipping down; then they hoisted
[44]their sister-in-law into the branches and told her
to throw down the flowers to them. But while she was in the tree, they
tied thorns round the trunk so that she could not descend and then left
her to starve. After she had been in the tree a long time, her brothers
passed that way on their return journey, and sat down under the tree to
rest; the girl was too weak to speak but she cried and her tears fell
on the back of her eldest brother, and he looked up and saw her; then
they rescued her and revived her and listened to her story; and they
were very angry and vowed to have revenge. So they gave their sister
some needles and put her in a sack and put the sack on one of the
pack-bullocks. And when they got home, they took the sack off gently
and told their wives to carry it carefully inside the house, and on no
account to put it down. But when the wives took it up, the girl inside
pricked them with the needles so that they screamed and let the sack
fall. Their husbands scolded them and made them take it up again, and
they had to carry it in, though they were pricked till the blood ran
down. Then the brothers enquired about all that had happened in their
absence, and at last asked after their sister, and their wives said
that she had gone to the jungle with some friends to get firewood. But
the brothers turned on them and told how they had found her in the
machunda tree and had brought her home in the sack, and their
wives were dumbfounded. Then the brothers said that they had made a vow
to dig a well and consecrate it; so they set to work to dig a well two
fathoms across and three fathoms deep; and when they reached water,
they fixed a day for the consecration; and they told their wives to put
on their best clothes and do the cumaura (betrothal) ceremony at
the well. So the wives went to the well, escorted by drummers, and as
they stood in a row round the well, each man pushed his own wife into
it and then [45]they covered the well with a wooden grating and
kept them in it for a whole year and at the end of the year they pulled
them out again.


Another version of this story gives three other tasks preliminary to
those given above and begins as follows:—

Once upon a time there was a girl named Hira who had seven brothers.
The brothers went away to a far country to trade leaving her alone in
the house with their wives; these seven sisters-in-law hated Hira and
did what they could to torment her; one day they sowed a basketful of
mustard seed in a field and then told her to go and pick it all up; she
went to the field and began to lament, singing:—

“They have sown a basket of mustard seed!

Oh, how far away have my brothers gone to
trade.”

As she cried a flock of pigeons came rustling down and asked her
what was the matter, and when they heard, they told her to be
comforted; they at once set to work picking up the mustard grain by
grain and putting it into her basket; soon the basket was quite full
and she joyfully took it home and showed it to her sisters-in-law. Then
they set her another task and told her to bring them some bear’s
hair that they might weave it into a hair armlet for her wedding. So
she went off to the jungle and sat down to cry; as she wept two bear
cubs came up and asked what was the matter; when she told her story
they bade her be of good cheer and took her into their cave and hid
her. Presently the mother bear came back and suckled her cubs, and when
they had finished they asked their mother to leave them some of her
hair that they might amuse themselves by plaiting it while she was
away. [46]She did so and directly she had gone off to look
for food, the cubs gave the girl the hair and sent her home rejoicing.
The sisters-in-law were only made more angry by her success and plotted
how to kill her, so they ordered her to bring them some tiger’s
milk that they might make it into curds for her wedding. Then she went
off to the jungle and began to weep, singing:—

“I brought the hair of a bear:

How far away have my brothers gone to trade.”

At the sound two tiger cubs came running up and asked what was the
matter; they told her to be comforted and they would manage to give her
what she wanted; and they took her and hid her near where they were
lying. Presently the tigress came back and suckled her cubs and as she
did so she declared that she smelt a human being, but the cubs laughed
at her and said that it must be they whom she smelt; so she was
satisfied, and as she was leaving them they asked her to leave some of
her milk in an earthern pot so that they might have something to drink
if she were long in coming back. The tigress did so and directly she
was gone the cubs gave the milk to the girl who took it home.—The
story then continues as before.

[Contents]

XI. How to Grow Rich.

Once upon a time there was a woman whose husband died while she was
pregnant, and she was very unhappy and used to pray daily to Singh
Chando to give her a man child in place of her husband; she was left
well off and among her property were three gold coins, and as she was
afraid of these being stolen she decided to place them in the care of
the village headman. So she took them to him and asked him to keep them
till her child was born; and no one was present at the [47]time but
the headman’s wife. In due time her child was born and by the
mercy of Singh Chando it was a son; and when the boy had grown a bit
and could run alone his mother decided to take back the gold coins, so
she went to the headman and asked him for them; but he and his wife
said: “We do not understand what you are talking about? We know
of no gold coins: where are your witnesses? You must have had witnesses
in such a business.” And they drove her out. She went away crying
and called the villagers together and asked them to decide the matter.
So they questioned her and the headman but as it was word against word
they could come to no decision; so they settled to put the parties on
oath, but the headman and the woman both swore that they had spoken the
truth, saying, “May we die if we have spoken falsely.” Then
the villagers made them swear by their children and the woman and the
headman laid their hands on the heads of their sons and swore; and when
the woman swore her son fell down dead and she took up the dead body in
her arms and ran away with it.

The villagers were very sorry for what had happened but the headman
and his wife abused them for not having believed their word. The woman
had not gone very far before she met a stranger who asked why she was
crying and when she told him, he said: “Do not cry: you told one
falsehood and so your son has died. Take your child back to the
villagers and tell them that it was five gold coins and not three that
you gave to the headman and if you do this the child will come to life
again.”

So the woman hastened back and found the villagers still assembled
and she told them as the stranger had directed; and she agreed to be
sworn again on the body of the child, and the headman promised to pay
five gold pieces if the child were restored to life. So [48]the
woman laid her hands on the dead child and swore, and it was restored
to life. Then the headman was dumbfounded and reluctantly brought out
five gold pieces and gave them to the woman. She gave five rupees to
the villagers and they made the headman give them ten rupees for having
deceived them, and they bought pigs and had a feast.

In the course of time the boy grew up and his mother urged him to
marry. He asked her if she knew how to choose a wife and also what sort
of cattle to buy, and she said that she did not know; her husband had
not told her this. So the youth said that he would go to Singh Chando
and ask.

His mother washed his clothes for him and gave him food for the
journey and he set out. On the way he met a man who asked him where he
was going and he answered that he was going to make a petition to Singh
Chando. “Then,” said the man, “make a petition for me
also. I have so much wealth that I cannot look after it all; ask him to
take away half from me.” The youth promised and went on and he
met another man who said that he had so many cattle that he could not
build enough cow-houses for them and asked him to petition Singh Chando
to diminish their number; and he promised, and went on and came to
Singh Chando, and there he asked how to choose a wife and how to buy
cattle. And Singh Chando said, “When you buy a bullock first put
your hand on its quarter and if it shrinks and tries to get free, buy
it; and when you want a wife enquire first as to the character of her
father and mother; good parents make good children.” Then the
youth asked about the two men he had met; Singh Chando
said;—“Tell the first man when he is ploughing to plough
two or three furrows beyond the boundary of his field and his wealth
will diminish and tell the second man to drive away three or four of
his [49]cattle every day and their number will
decrease.” So the youth returned and met the man who had too many
cattle and told him what Chando had said, and the man thought “If
I drive away three or four head of cattle every day I shall soon become
poor” so from that time he looked out for any straying cattle and
would drive them home with his own; if the owner claimed them, he gave
them up, but if no claimant appeared, he kept them and so he became
richer than ever. And the youth went on and met the man who was too
rich, and when he heard what Chando had said he thought “If I
plough over the boundary on to my neighbour’s land it will be a
great sin and I shall soon become poor;” and he went to his
ploughmen and told them never to plough right up to the edge of the
field but to leave two of three furrows space, and they obeyed and from
that time he grew richer than ever. And the youth returned to his
mother and told her all that had happened and they understood the
meaning of the advice which Chando had given to the two men and acted
accordingly. And it is true that we see that avaricious men who
trespass across boundaries become poor.

[Contents]

XII. The Changed Calf.

There was once a cowherd named Sona who saved a few rupees and he
decided to buy a calf so as to have something to show for his labours;
and he went to a distant village and bought a bull calf and on the way
home he was benighted. So he turned into a Hindu village and went to an
oilman’s house and asked to be allowed to sleep there. When the
oilman saw such a fine calf he coveted it and he told Sona to put it in
the stable along with his own bullock and he gave him some supper and
let him sleep in the verandah. But in the [50]middle of the night the
oilman got up and moistened some oil cake and plastered it over the
calf; he then untied his own bullock and made it lick the oil cake off
the calf, and as the bullock was accustomed to eat oil cake it licked
it greedily; then the oilman raised a cry, “The bullock that
turns the oil mill has given birth to a calf.” And all the
villagers collected, and saw the bullock licking the calf and they
believed the oilman. Sona did not wake up and knew nothing of all this,
the next morning he got up and went to untie his calf and drive it
away, but the oilman would not let him and claimed the calf as his own.
Then Sona called the villagers to come and decide the matter: but they
said that they had seen him bring no calf to the village and he had not
called any of them to witness it, but they had seen the bullock
licking the calf; why should the bullock lick any but its own calf? No
one ever saw a bullock lick a strange bullock or cow and so they
awarded the calf to the oilman. Then Sona said that he would call
someone to argue the matter and he went away meaning to get some men
from the next village: but he lost his way in the jungle and as he went
along a night-jar flew up from under his feet; he called out to it to
stay as he was in great distress, and the bird alighted and asked what
was the matter, and Sona told it his trouble. Then the night-jar said
that it would argue the matter for him but it must have a colleague and
it told Sona to go on and ask the first living being he met to help; so
he went on and met a jackal and the jackal agreed to help the
night-jar, and they told him to call the villagers to the edge of the
jungle and not to let them bring any dogs with them. So Sona brought
all the villagers to the jungle and the night-jar and jackal sat side
by side on a stone.

Then Sona asked the villagers whether they would let him take away
the calf or no, and they persisted in [51]their previous opinion.
At last one man said, “What are your advocates doing? it seems to
me that they are asleep.” And at this the two woke up with a
start and looked about them, and the night-jar said “I have been
asleep and dreamed a dream: will you men please hear it and explain its
meaning?”

And the jackal said, “I too have had a dream, please explain
it for me. If you can explain the meaning you shall keep the calf and,
if not, the boy shall have it.” The villagers told them to speak
and the night-jar said, “I saw two night-jar’s eggs and one
egg was sitting on the other; no mother bird was sitting on them, tell
me what this means.” And the jackal said, “I saw that the
sea was on fire and the fishes were all being burnt up, and I was busy
eating them and that was why I did not wake up, what is the meaning of
this dream?” And the villagers said. “The two dreams are
both alike: neither has any meaning; an egg cannot sit on an egg, and
the sea cannot catch fire.” The jackal said, “Why cannot it
be? If you won’t believe that water can catch fire why do you say
that a bullock gave birth to a calf? Have you ever seen such a thing?
Speak,” And they admitted that they had never seen a bullock have
a calf, but only cows. “Then,” said the jackal,
“explain why you have given the oilman a decree.” And they
admitted that they were wrong and awarded the calf to Sona and fined
the oilman five rupees for having deceived them.

[Contents]

XIII. The Koeri and the Barber.

There was a well-to-do man of the Koeri (cultivating) caste and
opposite his house lived a barber who was very poor; and the barber
thought that if he carried on his cultivation just as the Koeri did he
might get better results; so every day he made some pretext to visit
the [52]Koeri’s house and hear what work he was
going to do the next day, and with the same object he would listen
outside his house at night; and he exactly imitated the Koeri: he yoked
his cattle and unyoked them, he ploughed and sowed and transplanted
just when the Koeri did and the result was good, for that year he got a
very fine crop. But he was not content with this and resolved to
continue to copy the Koeri; the Koeri suspected what the barber was
doing and did not like it. So he resolved to put the matter to the test
and at the same time teach the barber to mind his own business. In
January they both planted sugar cane, and one day when the crop was
half grown the barber was sitting at the Koeri’s house and the
Koeri gave orders to his servants to put the leveller over the crop the
next day and break it down; this was only a pretence of the
Koeri’s, but the barber went away and the next day crushed his
sugar cane crop with the leveller, the whole village laughed to see
what he had done; but it turned out that each root of the
barber’s sugar cane sent up a number of shoots and in the end he
had a much heavier crop than the Koeri.

Another day the Koeri announced that he was going to sow but
(pulse) and therefore ordered his servants to bring out the seed and
roast it well, that it might germinate quickly; and the barber hearing
this went off and had his seed but roasted and the next day he
sowed it, but only a very few seeds germinated, while the crop of the
Koeri which had not really been roasted sprouted finely. The barber
asked the Koeri why his crop had not come up well, and the Koeri told
him that it must be because he had not roasted the seed enough; the few
seeds that had come up must have been those which had been roasted
most. But in the end the laugh was against the Koeri, for the few seeds
of the barber’s which germinated, produced such fine plants that
when [53]he came to thresh them out he had more grain than
the Koeri, and so in 3 or 4 years the barber became the richer man of
the two.

[Contents]

XIV. The Prince Who Acquired Wisdom.

There was once a Raja who had an only son and the Raja was always
urging his son to learn to read and write in order that when he came to
his kingdom he might manage well and be able to decide disputes that
were brought to him for judgment; but the boy paid no heed to his
father’s advice and continued to neglect his lessons. At last
when he was grown up, the Prince saw that his father was right and he
resolved to go away to foreign countries to acquire wisdom; so he set
off without telling anyone but his wife, and he took with him a purse
of money and three pieces of gold. After travelling a long time, he one
day saw a man ploughing in a field and he went and got some tobacco
from him and asked him whether there were any wise men living in that
neighbourhood. “What do you want with wise men?”, asked the
ploughman. The Prince said that he was travelling to get wisdom. The
ploughman said that he would give him instruction if he were paid. Then
the Prince promised to give him one gold piece for each piece of
wisdom. The ploughman agreed and said. “Listen attentively! My
first maxim is this: You are the
son of a Raja; whenever you go to visit a friend or one of your
subjects and they offer you a bedstead, or stool, or mat to sit on, do
not sit down at once but move the stool or mat a little to one side;
this is one maxim: give me my gold coin.” So the Prince paid him.
Then the ploughman said. “The second maxim is this: You are the
son of a Raja; whenever you go to bathe, do not bathe at the common
bathing place, but at a place by yourself; give me my [54]coin,” and the Prince did so. Then he
continued, “My third maxim is this: You are the son of a Raja;
when men come to you for advice or to have a dispute decided, listen to
what the majority of those present say and do not follow your own
fancy, now pay me;” and the Prince gave him his last gold coin,
and said that he had no more. “Well,” said the ploughman,
“your lesson is finished but still I will give you one more piece
of advice free and it is this: You are the son of a Raja; Restrain your
anger, if anything you see or hear makes you angry, still do not at
once take action; hear the explanation and weigh it well, then if you
find cause you can give rein to your anger and if not, let the offender
off.”

After this the prince set his face homewards as he had spent all his
money; and he began to repent of having spent his gold pieces on advice
that seemed worthless. However on his way he turned into a bazar to buy
some food and the shopkeepers on all sides called out “Buy,
buy,” so he went to a shop and the shopkeeper invited him to sit
on a rug; he was just about to do so when he remembered the maxim of
his instructor and pulled the rug to one side; and when he did so he
saw that it had been spread over the mouth of a well and that if he had
sat on it he would have been killed1; so he began to believe in
the wisdom of his teacher. Then he went on his way and on the road he
turned aside to a tank to bathe, and remembering the maxim of his
teacher he did not bathe at the common place but went to a place apart;
then having eaten his lunch he continued his journey, but he had not
gone far when he found that he had left his purse behind, so he turned
back and found it lying at the place where he had put down his things
when he bathed; thereupon he applauded the [55]wisdom
of his teacher, for if he had bathed at the common bathing place
someone would have seen the purse and have taken it away. When evening
came on he turned into a village and asked the headman to let him sleep
in his verandah, and there was already one other traveller sleeping
there and in the morning it was found that the traveller had died in
his sleep. Then the headman consulted the villagers and they decided
that there was nothing to be done but to throw away the body, and that
as the Prince was also a traveller he should do it. At first he refused
to touch the corpse as he was the son of a Raja, but the villagers
insisted and then he bethought himself of the maxim that he should not
act contrary to the general opinion; so he yielded and dragged away the
body, and threw it into a ravine.

Before leaving it he remembered that it was proper to remove the
clothes, and when he began to do so he found round the waist of the
body a roll of coin; so he took this and was glad that he had followed
the advice of his teacher.

That evening he reached the boundary of his own territory and
decided to press on home although it was dark; at midnight he reached
the palace and without arousing anyone went to the door of his
wife’s room. Outside the door he saw a pair of shoes and a sword;
at the sight he became wild with rage and drawing the sword he called
out: “Who is in my room?”

As a matter of fact the Prince’s wife had got the
Prince’s little sister to sleep with her, and when the girl heard
the Prince’s voice she got up to leave; but when she opened the
door and saw the Prince standing with the drawn sword she drew back in
fear; she told him who she was and explained that they had put the
shoes and sword at the door to prevent anyone else from entering; but
in his wrath the Prince would not listen and called to her to come out
and be killed. [56]

Then she took off her cloth and showed it to him through the crack
of the door and at the sight of this he was convinced; then he
reflected on the advice of his teacher and repented, because he had
nearly killed his sister through not restraining his wrath.

[Contents]

XV. The Monkey Boy.

There was once a man who had six sons and two daughters and he died
leaving his wife pregnant of a ninth child.

And when the child was born it proved to be a monkey.

The villagers and relations advised the mother to make away with it,
but she refused saying “Chando knows why he has given me such a
child, but as he has done so I will rear it.”

All her relations said that if she chose to rear a monkey they would
turn her out of the family. However she persisted that she would do so
at all costs. So they sent her to live with her child in a hut outside
the village, and the monkey boy grew up and learned to talk like a
human being.

One day his elder brothers began to clear the jungle for cultivation
and the monkey boy took a hatchet and went with them; he asked where he
could clear land for himself and in fun they showed him the place where
the jungle was thickest. So he went there and drove his hatchet into
the trunk of a tree and then returned and watched his brothers working
hard clearing the scrub, and when they had finished their work he went
and fetched his hatchet and returned home with them. Every day he did
the same—and one day his brothers asked why he spent all his time
with them, but he said that he only came to them when he was tired of
cutting down trees; they laughed at this and said that they would like
to see his clearing, so he took them to the [57]place
and to their astonishment they saw a large clearing, bigger than they
had been able to make for themselves. Then the brothers burnt the
jungle they had cut down and began to plough the land.

But the monkey boy’s mother had no plough or cattle nor any
seed rice; the only thing in the house was a pumpkin, so he took the
seed out of the pumpkin and sowed it in his clearing. His brothers
asked what he had sown and he told them—Rice.

The brothers ploughed and sowed and used to go daily to watch the
growing crop, and one day they went to have a look at the monkey
boy’s crop and they saw that it was pumpkins and not rice and
they laughed at him. When their crop was ripe the brothers prepared to
offer the first fruits and the monkey boy watched them that he might
observe the same ceremonies as they. One day they brought home the
first fruits and offered them to the bongas, and they invited
the monkey boy and his mother to come to the feast which followed the
offering.

They both went and enjoyed themselves; and two or three days later
the monkey boy said that he would also have a feast of first fruits, so
he told his mother to clear the courtyard and invited his brothers and
he purified himself and went to his clearing and brought home the
biggest pumpkin that had grown there; this he offered to the spirits;
he sliced off the top of it as if it were the head of a fowl, and as he
did so he saw that the inside was full of rice; he called his mother
and they filled a winnowing fan with the rice and there was enough
besides to nearly fill a basket; they were delighted at this windfall
but kept the matter secret lest they should be robbed. The monkey boy
told his mother to be sure and cook enough rice so that his brothers
and their wives might have as much as ever they could eat, and not
merely a small helping such as [58]they had given him, and if
necessary he would go and fetch another pumpkin; so his mother boiled
the rice. When the time fixed for the feast came, nothing was to be
seen of the brothers because they did not expect that there would
really be anything for them to eat; so the monkey boy went and fetched
them, and when they came to the feast they were astonished to have as
much rice as they could eat. When the crop was quite ripe the monkey
boy gathered all the pumpkins and got sufficient rice from them to last
for the whole year. After this the brothers went out to buy horses, and
the monkey boy went with them and as he had no money he took nothing
but a coil of rope; his brothers were ashamed to have him with them and
drove him away, so he went on ahead and got first to the place where
the horsedealer lived. The brothers arrived late in the evening and
decided to make their purchases the following morning and ride their
horses home, so they camped for the night. The monkey boy spent the
night hiding on the rafters of the stable; and in the night the horses
began to talk to each other and discussed which could gallop farthest,
and one mare said “I can gallop twelve kos on the ground
and then twelve kos in the air.” When the monkey boy heard
this he got down and lamed the mare by running a splinter into her
hoof. The next morning the brothers bought the horses which pleased
them and rode off. Then the monkey boy went to the horsedealer and
asked why the mare was lame and advised him to apply remedies. But the
dealer said that that was useless: when horses got ill they always
died; then the monkey boy asked if he would sell the mare and offered
to give the coil of rope in exchange; the dealer, thinking that the
animal was useless, agreed, so the monkey boy led it away, but when he
was out of sight he took out the splinter and the lameness at once
ceased. Then he mounted [59]the mare and rode after his brothers,
and when he had nearly overtaken them he rose into the air and flew
past his brothers and arrived first at home. There he tied up the mare
outside his house and went and bathed and had his dinner and waited for
his brothers.

They did not arrive for a full hour afterwards and when they saw the
monkey boy and his mount they wanted to know how he had got home first.
He boasted of how swift his mare was and so they arranged to have a
race and match their horses against his. The race took place two or
three days later and the monkey boy’s mare easily beat all the
other horses, she gallopped twelve kos on the ground and twelve
kos in the air. Then they wanted to change their horses for his,
but he said they had had first choice and he was not going to
change.

In two or three years the monkey boy became rich and then he
announced that he wanted to marry; this puzzled his mother for she
thought that no human girl would marry him while a monkey would not be
able to talk; so she told him that he must find a bride for himself.
One day he set off to look for a wife and came to a tank in which some
girls were bathing, and he took up the cloth belonging to one of them
and ran up a tree with it, and when the girl missed it and saw it
hanging down from the tree she borrowed a cloth from her friends and
went and asked the monkey boy for her own; he told her that she could
only have it back if she consented to marry him; she was surprised to
find that he could talk and as he conversed she was bewitched by him
and let him pull her up into the tree by her hair, and she called out
to her friends to go home and leave her where she was. Then he took her
on his back and ran off home with her.

The girl’s father and relations turned out with bows and
arrows to look for the monkey who had carried [60]her off
but he had gone so far away that they never found him. When the monkey
boy appeared with his bride all the villagers were astonished that he
had found anyone to marry him, but everything was made ready for the
marriage as quickly as possible and all the relations were invited and
the wedding took place and the monkey boy and his wife lived happily
ever after.

[Contents]

XVI. The Miser’s Servant.

Once there was a rich man who was a miser. Although he kept farm
servants they would never stay out the year with him; but ran away in
the middle. When the villagers asked why they ran away and so lost
their year’s wages the servants answered. “You would do the
same in our place: at the busy time of the year he speaks us fair and
feeds us well, but directly the crops are gathered he begins to starve
us; this year we have had nothing to eat since September.”

And the villagers said “Well, that is a good reason, a man can
stand scolding but not starvation; we all work to fill our bellies,
hunger is the worst disease of all.” The news that the miser made
his servants work for nothing spread throughout the neighbourhood so he
could get no servants near by and when he brought them from a distance
they soon heard of his character and ran away. Men would only work for
him on daily wages and because of his miserliness they demanded higher
wages than usual from him and would not work without. Now there was a
young fellow named Kora who heard all this and he said “If I were
that man’s servant I would not run away. I would get the better
of him; ask him if he wants a servant and if he says, yes, take me to
him.” The man to whom Kora told this went to the miser and
informed him that Kora was willing to engage himself to him; so Kora
was fetched [61]and they had a drink of rice beer and then the
miser asked Kora whether he would work for the full year and not run
away in the middle. Kora said that he would stay if he were satisfied
with the wages. The master said “I will fix your wages when I see
your work; if you are handy at every thing I will give you 12
Kats of rice and if you are only a moderate worker then 9 or 10
Kats besides your clothes. How much do you ask for?”

And Kora said “Well, listen to me: I hear that your servants
run away in the middle of the year because you give them so little to
eat, all I ask for my wages is that you give me once a year one grain
of rice and I will sow it and you must give me low land to plant all
the seed that I get from it; and give me one seed of maize and I will
sow it for seed, and you must give me upland to sow all the seed I get
from it; and give me the customary quantity of clothes, and for food
give me one leaf full of rice three times a day. I only want what will
go on a single leaf, you need not sew several leaves together into a
plate. I will ask for no second helping but if you do not fill the leaf
full I shall have the right to abuse you, and if I do not do all the
work you give me properly, then you can abuse me and beat me. If I run
away from fear of hard work you may cut off the little finger of my
right hand, and if you do not give me the wages we have agreed upon
then I shall have the right to cut off the little finger of your hand.
What do you say to this proposal: consult your friends and give me your
answer.” Then the miser answered “I engage you on these
terms and if I turn you off without reason you may cut off my little
finger.” Then Kora turned to the man who had fetched him and said
“Listen to all this: if there is any dispute hereafter you will
be my witness.”

So Kora began to work and the first day they gave [62]him rice
on a single sal leaf and he ate it up in one mouthful: but the
next day he brought a plantain leaf (which is some three feet
long
) and said “Give me my rice on this and mind you fill it
full.” And they refused: but he said “Why not? it is only a
single leaf” and they had to give in because he was within his
rights; so he ate as much as he wanted, and every day he brought a
plantain leaf till his master’s wife got tired and said to her
husband “Why have you got a servant like this—he takes a
whole pot of rice to himself every day,” but he answered
“Never mind: his wages are nothing, he is working for his keep
alone;” so the whole year Kora got his plantain leaf filled and
he was never lazy over his work so they could find no fault with him on
that score, and when the year was up they gave him one grain of rice
and one seed of maize for his wages for the year. Kora kept them
carefully, and his master’s sons laughed at him and said
“Mind you don’t drop them or let a mouse eat
them.”

Kora said nothing but when the time for sowing maize came he took
his grain of maize and sowed it by the dung heap, and he called them to
see where he sowed it; and at the time of sowing rice he sowed his
grain separately, and when the time for transplanting came he planted
his rice seedling in a hollow and bade them note it. When the maize
ripened it was found that his plant had two big cobs and one small one
on it, and his rice seedling sent up a number of ears; and when it
ripened he cut it and threshed it and got one pai of rice, and
he kept the maize and rice for seed. And the next year also he sowed
this seed separately and it produced a big basket of rice and another
one of maize, and he kept this also for seed; and in the course of five
or six years he had taken all their high lands to sow his seed in and
in a few years more he had taken all their rice lands too. Then his
master was very miserable but he [63]saw that it was useless to make
any complaint and the master became so poor that he had to work as a
servant to Kora. At last the miser called the heads of the village
together and wept before them, and they had pity on him and interceded
for him; but Kora said “It is God who has punished him and not I;
he made poor men work for nothing for so long and now he has to
suffer;” but they asked him to be merciful and give him some
land, and he agreed and said “Cut off his little finger and I
will let him off his bargain; and call all the servants whom he has
defrauded and I will pay them” but the miser would not have his
finger cut off; then Kora said “Let him keep his finger and I
will give him back half his land.” The miser agreed to this and
promised to treat his servants well in future, and in order to lessen
his shame he married his daughter to Kora; and he had to admit that it
was by his own folly that this trouble had befallen him.

[Contents]

XVII. Kuwar and the Raja’s Daughter.

There was once a rich merchant who lived in a Raja’s city; and
the Raja founded a school in order that his own children might have
some education, and the boys and the girls of the town used to go to
the school as well as the Raja’s sons and daughters and among
them the rich merchant’s son, whose name Was Kuwar. In the course
of time the children all learned to read and write. In the evenings all
the boys used to mount their horses and go for a ride.

Now it happened that Kuwar and the Raja’s daughter fell in
love with each other and she wrote him a letter saying that if he did
not marry her she would forcibly install herself in his house. He wrote
back and begged her not to come to his house as this would be the ruin
of his family; but he said that he would willingly run [64]away
with her to a distant country, and spend his whole life with her, if
she would overlook the fact that they were of different castes; and if
she agreed to this they must settle to what country to go. Somehow news
of their intention got about, and the Raja was told that his daughter
was in love with the merchant’s son. Then the Raja gave orders
that his daughter was not to be allowed to go outside the palace, and
the merchant spoke severely to Kuwar and neither of them was allowed to
go to the school any more. But one day the princess went to the place
where the Raja’s horses were tied up and among them was a mare
named Piyari and she went up to the mare and said “You have eaten
our salt for a long time, will you now requite me?” And Piyari
said “Certainly I will!”. Then the princess asked “If
I mount you, will you jump over all these horses and this wall and
escape?” And the mare said “Yes, but you will have to hold
on very tight.” The princess said “That is my look-out: it
is settled that on the day I want you you will jump over the wall and
escape.” Then she wrote a letter to Kuwar and gave it to her
maid-servant to deliver into Kuwar’s own hands, without letting
anyone know: and in the letter she fixed a day for their elopement and
told Kuwar to wait for her by a certain tree. So on the day fixed after
everyone was asleep Kuwar went to the tree and almost at once the
princess came to him riding on Piyari; he asked her how she had escaped
and whether she had been seen and she told him how the mare had jumped
over the wall without anyone knowing; then they both mounted Piyari and
drove her like the wind and in one night they passed through the
territory of two or three Rajas and in the morning were in a far
country.

Then they dismounted to cook their rice, and went to the house of an
old woman to ask for a light with which to light their fire. Now this
old woman had [65]seven sons and they were all robbers and
murderers; and six of them had killed travellers and carried off their
wives and married them. When Kuwar and the princess came asking for a
light the seven sons were away hunting and when the old woman saw the
princess she resolved to marry her to her youngest son, and made a plan
to delay them; so she asked them to cook their rice at her house and
offered them cooking pots and water pots and firewood and everything
necessary; they did not know that she meant to kill Kuwar and
unsuspiciously accepted her offer. When they had finished cooking Kuwar
asked the old woman whether she lived alone and she told him that she
was a widow but had seven sons and they were all away on a trading
expedition. The old woman kept on looking out to see if her sons were
returning, and she had made an arrangement with them that if she ever
wanted them she would set fire to a small hut and they would come home
at once when they saw the smoke rising. But before her sons came back
Kuwar and the princess finished their meal and paid the old woman and
mounted Piyari and gallopped off. Then the old woman set fire to the
hut and her sons, seeing the smoke hurried home. She told them that a
beautiful girl had just left who would make a suitable wife for the
youngest of the brothers. Then the brothers tied on their swords and
mounted their horses and went in pursuit. Kuwar and the princess knew
nothing of their danger and rode on happily, but presently they heard
horses neighing behind them and looking round, saw men riding after
them with drawn swords. Then the princess said to Kuwar “Our
enemies are upon us; do you sit in front and let me sit behind you,
then they will kill us both together. If I am in front they may kill
you alone and carry me off alive.” But while they were thinking
of this the seven brothers caught them up, and began to abuse
[66]them and charge them with having set fire to the
house in which they had eaten their rice, and told them to come back
with them at once. Kuwar and the princess were too frightened to answer
and they had no sword with which to defend themselves. Then the robbers
surrounded them and killed Kuwar, and they said to the princess
“You cannot stay here all alone; we will take you back and you
shall marry one of us.” The princess answered “Kill me here
at once, never will I go with you.” They said “We shall
take away your horse and all your food, will not that make you
go?” But the princess threw herself on the dead body of Kuwar and
for all they could do they could not drag her off it. Then the
murderers said to the youngest brother “She is to be your wife:
you must pull her away.” But he refused saying “No, if I
take her away she will not stay with me, she will probably hang herself
or drown herself; I do not want a wife like that, if any of you want
her, you can have her.” But they said that it would not be right
for one of them to take a second wife while their youngest brother was
unmarried, and that their mother intended him to marry this girl; if he
would not they would kill her there and then. But the youngest brother
had pity on her and asked them to spare her life, so they took away her
horse and her food and everything that she had and went away and left
her there.

For a day and a night the princess lay there weeping and lamenting
her dead Kuwar and never ceased for a moment. Then Chando said
“who is this who is weeping and what has happened to
her? And he sent Bidhi and Bidha to see what
was the matter; they came and told him that a princess was weeping over
the body of her dead husband and would not leave him though she had
been robbed of everything she had.

Then Chando told them to go and frighten her, and [67]if they
could frighten her away from her husband’s dead body he would do
nothing, but if she would not leave him then they were to restore him
to life. So they went and found her holding the dead body of her
husband In her lap and weeping; and they first assumed the form of
tigers and began to circle round her roaring, but she only went on
weeping and sang—

“You have come roaring, tigress:

First eat me, tigress:

Then only will I let you eat the body of my
lord.”

She would not quit the body nor run away from fear of the tigers, so
they slunk away and came back in the form of two leopards, and prowled
round her growling; but she only sang

“You have come roaring, leopardess

First eat me, leopardess

Then only will I let you eat the body of my
lord.”

and as she would not fly from them they slunk away and came back in
the form of two bears, but the princess only sang the same song; then
they appeared as two elephants; and then as two huge snakes which
hissed terribly but still she only wept; and in many forms they tried
to frighten her away but she would not move nor leave the corpse of
Kuwar, so in the end they saw that all the heart of the princess was
with Kuwar and that even in death they could not be separated, so at
last they drew near to her in the form of human beings and asked her
why she was crying, as they had heard her weeping from a long way off,
and had been filled with pity for her lamentations. Then the princess
said “Alas, this youth and I are from such and such a country and
as we loved and our lives were bound up in each other we ran away
together hither, and here on the road he has been killed and the
murderers have left me without my horse or food; and this is why
[68]I weep. Then Bidhi and Bidha said
“Daughter, rise up and we will take you to your home, or we will
find you another husband; this one is dead and cannot be restored to
you; you will find another; come arise, you have but one life,”
But the princess answered “No I will not go and leave him here. I
will not leave him while my life lasts; but I pray you if you know of
any medicine that might restore him to life, to try it.” Then
they answered “We know something of medicine and if you wish we
will try to cure him;” so saying, they ground up some simples and
told the princess to spread out a cloth and lay the dead body on it and
to put the head which had been cut off into position, and then to cover
it with the cloth and hold the head in position; so she did as they
bade, and they rubbed the medicine on the body and then they suddenly
disappeared from her sight.

Then in a few moments she saw Kuwar’s chest heave as if he
were breathing; thereupon she shook him violently and he rose up and
said “Oh, what a long time I have slept,” but the princess
said “Do not talk of sleep; you were killed and two men appeared
from somewhere and applied medicine and brought you to life
again;” then Kuwar asked where they were and she told him how
they had disappeared without her knowledge.

Then they rose up and went in search of food to a village where
there was a bazar, and they tried to get employment as servants; but
the people advised them to go to the capital city where the Raja lived,
and there if no one would take them as servants they could get
employment as coolies on a big tank which the Raja was excavating. So
they went there, and as they could not get employment as servants they
went to work at the tank with the common coolies and were paid their
wages at the end of the week and so [69]managed to live. Kuwar’s
desire was to somehow save five or six rupees and then build a little
house for themselves.

Now although the tank had been dug very deep there were no signs of
any water. Then the Raja ordered the centre post to be planted in hopes
that this would make the water rise; and he told the coolies not to run
away as he would make a feast to celebrate the making of the tank and
would distribute presents among them, and at this the labourers were
very pleased.

Now Kuwar’s wife was very fair to see and the Raja saw her and
fell in love with her and made a plot to get possession of her. So when
the centre post had been planted and still no water came he said
“We must see what sacrifice is required to make the water come. I
have animals of all kinds; one by one they shall be offered and you
shall sing and dedicate them.” So first an elephant was led down
into the bed of the tank and the people sang

“Tank, we will sacrifice to you an elephant

Let clear water bubble up, O tank,”

but no water came.

Then they led down a horse and sang a similar song, but no water
came; and then in succession a camel, a donkey, a cow, a buffalo, a
goat and a sheep were offered but no water came; and so they stopped.
Then the Raja asked why they stopped and they said that they had no
more animals. Then the Raja bade them sing a song dedicating a man, to
see if that would bring the water; so they sang and as they sang water
bubbled up everywhere from the bottom of the tank and then the coolies
were stricken with fear for they did not know which of them would be
sacrificed.

But the Raja sent his soldiers and they seized Kuwar and bound him
to the post in the middle of the tank; [70]and then a song was sung
dedicating him to the tank and as the water rose around him the
princess wept bitterly; but the Raja said “Do not cry I will
arrange for your support and will give you part of my kingdom and you
shall live in my palace.” The princess said “Yes: hereafter
I may stay with you, but let me now watch Kuwar till he is
drowned;” so Kuwar fixed his eyes on the princess and tears
streamed down his face until the waters rose and covered him; and the
princess also gazed at him till he was drowned. Then the Raja’s
soldiers told her to come with them and she said “Yes, I am
coming, but let me first offer a libation of water to my dead
husband;” and on this pretext she went into the water and then
she darted to the place where Kuwar had been bound and sank beneath the
surface. The Raja bade men rescue her but all were afraid to enter the
water and she was seen no more. Then the Raja gave all the coolies a
feast and scattered money among the crowd and dismissed them. And this
is the end of the story.

[Contents]

XVIII. The Laughing Fish.

There was once a merchant who prospered in his business and in the
course of time became very rich. He had five sons but none of them was
married. In the village where he lived was an old tank which was half
silted up and he resolved to clean it out and deepen it, if the Raja
would give it to him; so he went to the Raja and the Raja said that he
could have the tank if he paid forty rupees. The merchant paid the
money and then went home and called his family together and said that
they would first improve the tank and then find wives for all his sons.
The sons agreed and they collected coolies and drained off the water
and began to dig out the silt. When they had [71]drained
off the water they found in the bed of the tank a number of big fish of
unknown age: which they caught and two of them they sent to the Raja as
a present. When the fish were carried into the presence of the Raja
they both began to laugh: then the Raja said “What is the meaning
of this? Here are two dead fish, why are they laughing?” And he
told the men who brought the fish to explain what was the matter or
else to take them away again. But they could give no explanation. Then
the Raja called all his officers and astrologers and asked them what
they thought it meant: but no one could give him any answer. Then the
Raja told the men to take the fish away again, and to tell the merchant
that, if he could not explain why the fish laughed, he would kill him
and all his descendants; and he wrote a letter to the same effect, and
fixed a day by which the merchant was to explain the matter. When the
merchant read the letter he fell into the greatest distress and for two
or three days he could not make up his mind whether to go on with the
work on the tank or no; but in the end he resolved to finish it so that
his name might be held in remembrance. So they finished the work and
then the merchant said to his sons: “My sons I cannot arrange for
your marriages, for the Raja has threatened to kill us all, if I cannot
explain why the fish laughed; you must all escape from here so that our
family may not die out;” but the younger sons all answered
“We are not able to take care of ourselves, either you come with
us to protect us or we will stay here.” Then the merchant told
his eldest son to escape alone so that their family might not become
extinct.

So the eldest son took a supply of money and went away into a far
country. After travelling a long time he came to a town where a Raja
lived and decided to stay there; so he first went to a tank and bathed
and sat [72]down on the bank to eat some refreshment; and as
he sat the daughter of the Raja came down to the tank to bathe and she
saw the merchant’s son and their eyes met. Then the princess sent
her maid-servants to ask him where he came from; and he told them where
he came from and that he meant to make a stay in that town, and he
promised them a rupee if they could persuade the princess to uncover
her face. They went and told their mistress all this and she answered
“Go and get your rupee from him, I will uncover my face; and ask
him what he wants.” And when they went, she drew aside the cloth
from her face; then he gave them the rupee, and they asked him whether
he had seen her and what his intention was; then he said that his wish
was to marry the princess and live with her in her father’s
house! When the princess heard this she said “Yes, my heart has
gone out to him also;” so then she bathed and went home and lay
down in her room and would not get up, and when her father asked her
what was the matter, she made no answer. Then they asked her maidens
what was the matter and they said that she had seen a stranger by the
tank and wished to marry him. The Rani asked whether the stranger was
still there and they said that they had left him by the tank. So two
men were sent to fetch the stranger or to find out where he had gone.
The two servants went and found the merchant’s son just ready to
continue his journey, and they asked him who he was and what he wanted.
He said that he was looking for employment but would like best to marry
and live in the house of his father-in-law. Then they told him not go
away and they would arrange such a marriage for him, so they took him
to a house in the town and left him there and went back to the Raja.
They told the Raja that the stranger had gone away but that they could
follow him and bring him back if [73]he gave them some money for
their journey. So the Raja gave them two rupees; then they went off but
only ate their dinner at home, and then they brought the
merchant’s son to the Raja, pretending that they had overtaken
him a long way off. He was questioned about himself and he told his
whole history except that the Raja had threatened to cut off his
family, and his account being satisfactory it was arranged that he
should marry the princess. Musicians were sent for and the marriage
took place at once. After his marriage the merchant’s son was
much depressed at the thought of his brothers’ fate and in the
middle of the night he used to rise up and weep till the bed was soaked
with his tears; the princess noticed this and one night she pretended
to go to sleep but really lay awake and watched her husband; and in the
middle of the night saw him rise quietly and begin to sob. She was
filled with sympathy and went to him and begged him to tell her what
was the matter and whether he was sorry that he had married her; and he
answered “I cry because I am in despair; in the daytime I
restrain my tears before others with difficulty but in the night they
cannot be kept back; but I am ashamed for you to see me and I wait till
you are asleep before I give way to my feelings.”

Then she asked what was the cause of his sorrow and he answered
“My father and mother and brothers and sisters are all doomed to
die; for our Raja has sworn to kill them by a certain day if he is not
told why two fish, which my father sent to him as a present, laughed
when they were brought before him. In consequence of this threat my
father sent me from home that one of the family might survive and
although I may be safe here the thought of them and their fate makes me
weep.” The princess asked him what was the day fixed for the
mystery to be explained; and he told [74]her that it was at the
full moon of a certain month. Then the princess said “Come take
me to your father’s house: I shall be able to explain why the
fishes laughed.” The merchant’s son joyfully agreed to
start off the next day; so in the morning they told the Raja why they
wished to go, and he said to his daughter “Go and do not be
afraid; go in confidence, I promise you that you will be able to
explain why the fishes laughed.”

So they made ready and journeyed to the merchant’s house; and
when they arrived they told the merchant to go to the Raja and ask him
to collect all the citizens on a certain day to hear the reason why the
fishes laughed. The merchant went to the Raja and the Raja gave him a
letter fixing the day and all the citizens were assembled in an open
plain; and the princess dressed herself as a man and went to the
assembly and stood before the Raja.

Then the Raja bade her explain why the fishes laughed, and the
princess answered “If you wish to know the reason order all your
Ranis to be brought here;” so the Ranis were summoned; then the
princess said “The reason why the fishes laughed was because
among all your wives it is only the eldest Rani who is a woman and all
the others are men. What will you give me if this is not proved to be
true?” Then the Raja wrote a bond promising to give the merchant
half his kingdom if this were proved to be true. When enquiry was made
it was found that the wives had really become men, and the Raja was put
to shame before all his people. Then the assembly broke up and the
merchant received half the Raja’s kingdom.

[Contents]

XIX. How the Cowherd Found a Bride.

There was once a Goala who was in charge of a herd of cattle and
every day he used to bring the herd for [75]their midday rest to the
foot of a peepul tree. One day the peepul tree spoke and said to him
“If you pour milk every day at my roots I will grant you a
boon.” So thenceforward the Goala every day poured milk at the
roots of the tree and after some days he saw a crack in the ground; he
thought that the roots of the tree were cracking the earth but the fact
was that a snake was buried there, and as it increased in size from
drinking the milk it cracked the ground and one day it issued forth; at
the sight of it the Goala was filled with fear and made sure that the
snake would devour him. But the snake said “Do not fear: I was
shut up in the nether world, and you by your kindness have rescued me,
I wish to show gratitude to you and will confer on you any boon for
which you ask.” The Goala answered that the snake should choose
what he would give him; then the snake called him near, and breathed on
his hair which was very long and it became glistening as gold, and the
snake said that his hair would obtain for him a wife and that he would
be very powerful; and that whatever he said would come to pass. The
Goala asked what sort of things would come to pass. The snake answered
“If you say a man shall die he will die and if you say he shall
come to life, he will come to life. But you must not tell this to
anyone; not even to your wife when you marry; if you do the power will
vanish.”

Some time afterwards it happened that the Goala was bathing in the
river; and as he bathed one of his hairs came out and the fancy took
him to wrap it in a leaf and set it to float down the stream. Lower
down the river a princess was bathing with her attendants and they saw
the packet come floating down and tried to stop it but it floated
straight to the princess and she caught it and opened it and found the
hair inside. It shone like gold and when they measured it, it was
twelve fathoms [76]long. So the princess tied it up in her cloth and
went home and shut herself up in her room, and would neither eat nor
drink nor speak. Her mother sent two of her companions to question her,
and at last she told them that she would not rise and eat until they
found the person to whom the golden hair belonged; if it were the hair
of a man he should be her husband and if it came from a girl she would
have that girl come and live with her.

When the Raja and Rani heard this and that the hair had come
floating down the river they went to their daughter and told her that
they would at once send messengers up the stream to find the owner of
the hair. Then she was comforted and rose up and ate her rice. That
very day the Raja ordered messengers to follow up the banks of the
stream and enquire in all the villages and question every one they met
to find trace of the owner of the golden hair; so the messengers set
out on both banks of the stream and followed it to its source but their
search was vain and they returned without news; then holy mendicants
were sent out to search and they also returned unsuccessful. Then the
princess said “If you cannot find the owner of the golden hair I
will hang myself!” At this a tame crow and a parrot which were
chained to a perch, said “You will never be able to find the man
with the golden hair; he is in the depths of the forest; if he had
lived in a village you would have found him, but as it is we alone can
fetch him; unfasten our chains and we will go in search of him.”
So the Raja ordered them to be unfastened and gave them a good meal
before starting, for they could not carry a bag of provisions with them
like a man. Then the crow and the parrot mounted into the air and flew
away up the river, and after long search they spied the Goala in the
jungle resting his cattle under the peepul tree; so they flew down and
perched on the peepul [77]tree and consulted how they could lure him
away. The parrot said that he was afraid to go near the cattle and
proposed that the crow should fly down and carry off the Goala’s
flute, from where it was lying with his stick and wrapper at the foot
of the tree. So the crow went flitting from one cow to another till it
suddenly pounced on the flute and carried it off in its beak; when the
Goala saw this he ran after the crow to recover his flute and the crow
tempted him on by just fluttering from tree to tree and the Goala kept
following; and when the crow was tired the parrot took the flute from
him and so between them they drew the Goala on right to the
Raja’s city, and they flew into the palace and the Goala followed
them in, and they flew to the room in which the princess was and
dropped the flute into the hand of the princess and the Goala followed
and the door was shut upon him. The Goala asked the princess to give
him the flute and she said that she would give it to him if he promised
to marry her and not otherwise. He asked how he could marry her all of
a sudden when they had never been betrothed; but the princess said
“We have been betrothed for a long time; do you remember one day
tying a hair up in a leaf and setting it to float downstream; well that
hair has been the go-between which arranged our betrothal.” Then
the Goala remembered how the snake had told him that his hair would
find him a wife and he asked to see the hair which the princess had
found, so she brought it out and they found that it was like his, as
long and as bright; then he said “We belong to each other”
and the princess called for the door to be opened and brought the Goala
to her father and mother and told them that her heart’s desire
was fulfilled and that if they did not allow the wedding to take place
in the palace she would run away with the Goala. So a day was fixed for
the wedding and invitations were [78]issued and it duly took place.
The Goala soon became so much in love with his bride that he forgot all
about his herd of cattle which he had left behind, without any one to
look after them; but after some time he bethought himself of them and
he told his bride that he must return to his cattle, whether she came
with him or no. She said that she would take leave of her parents and
go with him; then the Raja gave them a farewell feast and he made over
to the Goala half his kingdom, and gave him a son’s share of his
elephants and horses and flocks and herds and said to him “You
are free to do as you like: you can stay here or go to your own home;
but if you elect to stay here, I shall never turn you out.” The
Goala considered and said that he would live with his father-in-law but
that he must anyhow go and see the cattle which he had abandoned
without any one to look after them. So the next day he and his wife set
off and when they got to the jungle they found that all the cattle were
lying dead. At this the Goala was filled with grief and began to weep;
then he remembered the promise of the snake that he should be able to
restore the dead to life and he resolved to put it to the test.

So he told his wife that he would give the dead cows medicine and he
got some jungle roots as a blind and held them to the noses of the dead
animals and as he did so, he said “Come to life” and,
behold, one by one the cows all got up and began lowing to their
calves. Having thus proved the promises of the snake the Goala was loud
in his gratitude and he filled a large vessel with milk and poured it
all out at the foot of the peepul tree and the snake came and breathed
on the hair of the princess and it too became bright as gold.

The next day they collected all the cows and drove them back to the
princess’ home and there the Goala and his wife lived happily,
ruling half the kingdom. And [79]some years after the Goala reflected
that the snake was to him as his father and mother and yet he had come
away in a hurry without taking a proper farewell, so he went to see
whether it was still there; but he could not find it and he asked the
peepul tree and no answer came so he had to return home
disappointed.

[Contents]

XX. Kara and Guja.

Once upon a time there were two brothers named Kara and Guja who
were first class shots with the bow and arrow. In the country where
they lived, a pair of kites were doing great damage: they had young
ones in a nest in a tree and used to carry off children to feed their
nestlings until the whole country was desolated. So the whole
population went in a body to the Raja and told him that they would have
to leave the country if he could not have the kites killed. Then the
Raja made proclamation that any one who could kill the two kites should
receive a large tract of land as a reward, and thereupon many men tried
to kill them; but the kites had made their nest of ploughs and
clod-crushers so that the arrows could not hit them, and the shooters
had to give up the attempt. At last Kara and Guja thought that they
would try, so they made an ambush and waited till the birds came to the
nest to feed their young and then shot them both through the hole in a
clod-crusher into which the pole fits, and the two kites fell down
dead, at the source of the Ganges and Jumna, and where they fell they
made a great depression in the ground. Then Kara and Guja carried the
bodies to the Raja and he gave them a grant of land; and their grateful
neighbours made a large rice field of the depression which the kites
had made in the earth and this was given to Kara and Guja as service
land to their great delight. [80]

Kara and Guja used to spend their time in the forest, living on what
they could find there; they slept in a cave and at evening would cook
their rice there or roast jungle roots. One day a tiger spied them out
as they were roasting tubers and came up to them suddenly and said.
“What are you cooking? Give me some or I will eat you.” So
while they went on eating the roasted tubers, they threw the coals from
the fire to the tiger at the mouth of the cave and he crunched them up
and every now and then they threw him a bit of something good to eat;
the tiger would not go away but lay there expecting to be fed, and Kara
and Guja debated how to get rid of him. Then Guja suddenly jumped up
and dashed at the tiger and caught him by the tail and began to twist
the tail and he went on twisting until he twisted it right off and the
tiger ran roaring away. Kara and Guja roasted the tail and ate it, and
they found it so nice that they decided to hunt the tiger and eat the
rest of him. So the two brothers searched for him everywhere and when
they found him they chased him until they ran him down and killed him;
then they lit a fire and singed the hair off and roasted the flesh and
made a grand meal: but they did not eat the paunch. Kara wanted to eat
it but Guja would not let him, so Kara carried it away on his
shoulder.

Presently they sat down in the shade of a banyan tree by the side of
a road and along the road came a Raja’s wedding procession; when
Kara and Guja saw this they climbed into the tree and took the
tiger’s paunch up with them. The wedding party came to a halt at
the foot of the tree and some of them lay down to eat and the Raja got
out of his palki and lay down to sleep in the shade. After a time Kara
got tired of holding the tiger’s paunch in his arms and whispered
to Guja that he could hold it no longer, Guja told him on no account to
let it go [81]but at last Kara got so tired that he let it fall
right on the top of the Raja; then all the Raja’s attendants
raised a shout that the Raja’s stomach had burst and all ran away
in a panic leaving everything they had under the tree; but after they
had gone a little distance they thought of the goods they had left
behind and how they could not continue the journey without them, so
they made their way back to the banyan tree.

But meanwhile Kara and Guja had climbed down and gathered together
all the fine clothes and everything valuable and taken them up into the
tree. And Kara took up a large drum which he found and in one end of
the drum he made a number of little holes: and he caught a number of
wild bees which had a nest in the tree and put them one by one into the
drum. When the Raja’s attendants came back and saw that there
were two men in the tree, they called out: “Why have you
dishonoured our Raja? We will kill you.” Kara and Guja answered
“Come and see who will do the killing.” So they began to
fight and the Raja’s men fired their guns at Kara and Guja till
they were tired of shooting, and had used up all their powder and shot,
but they never hit them. Then Kara and Guja called out “Now it is
our turn!” And when the Raja’s men saw that Kara and Guja
had nothing but a drum they said “Yes, it is your turn.” So
Kara and Guja beat the drum and called “At them, my dears: at
them my dears.” And the wild bees flew out of the drum and stung
the Raja’s men and drove them right away. Then Kara and Guja took
all their belongings and went home and ever after were esteemed as
great Rajas because of the wealth which they had acquired.

[Contents]

XXI. The Magic Cow.

There was once a Raja who had an only son named Kara and in the
course of time the Raja fell into poverty [82]and was little better
than a beggar. One day when Kara was old enough to work as a cowherd
his father called him and said “My son, I am now poor but once I
was rich. I had a fine estate and herds of cattle and fine clothes; now
that is all gone and you have scarcely enough to eat. I am old and like
to die and before I leave you I wish to give you this advice: there are
many Rajas in the world, Raja above Raja; when I am dead do you seek
the protection of some powerful Raja.” As there was not enough to
eat at home Kara had to take service as goat-herd under a neighbouring
Raja; by which he earned his food and clothes and two rupees a year.
Some time afterwards his father died and Kara went to his master and
asked for a loan of money with which to perform his father’s
funeral ceremonies, and promised to continue in his service until he
had worked off the loan. So the Raja advanced him five rupees and five
rupees worth of rice, and with this money Kara gave the funeral feast.
Five or six days later his mother died, and he again went to the Raja
and asked for ten rupees more; at first the Raja refused but Kara
besought him and promised to serve him for his whole life if he could
not repay the loan. So at last the Raja lent him ten rupees more, and
he gave the funeral feast. But the Raja’s seven sons were very
angry with their father because he had lent twenty rupees to a man who
had no chance of paying, and they used to threaten and worry Kara
because he had taken the money. Then Kara remembered how his father had
said that there were many Rajas in the world, Raja above Raja, and he
resolved to run away and seek service with the greatest Raja in the
world. So he ran away and after travelling some distance he met a Raja
being carried in a palki and going with a large party to fetch a bride
for his son; and when he heard who it was he decided to follow the
Raja; so he went along behind the palki and at one place a she-jackal
ran [83]across the road; then the Raja got out of his
palki and made a salaam to the jackal. When Kara saw this he thought
“This cannot be the greatest Raja in the world or why should he
salaam to the jackal. The jackal must be more powerful than the Raja; I
will follow the jackal.” So he left the wedding party and went
after the jackal; now the jackal was hunting for food for her young
ones, and as Kara followed her wherever she went she could find no
opportunity of killing a goat or sheep; so at last she went back to the
cave in which she lived. Then her cubs came whining to meet her and she
told her husband that she had been able to catch nothing that day
because a man had followed her wherever she went, and had come right up
to their cave and was waiting outside.

Then the he-jackal told her to ask what the man wanted. So she went
out to Kara and asked him and Kara said “I have come to place
myself under your protection;” then she called the he-jackal and
they said to him, “We are jackals and you are a man. How can you
stay with us; what could we give you to eat and what work could we find
for you to do?” Kara said that he would not leave them as all his
hopes lay in them; and at last the jackals took pity on him and
consulted together and agreed to make him a gift as he had come to them
so full of hope; so they gave him a cow which was in the cave, and said
to him: “As you have believed in us we have made up our minds to
benefit you; take this cow, she will supply you with everything you
want; if you address her as mother she will give you whatever you ask,
but do not ask her before people for they would take her from you; and
do not give her away whatever inducements are offered you.”

Then Kara thanked them and called down blessings on their heads and
took the cow and led it away [84]homewards. When he came to a tank he
thought he would bathe and eat; while he bathed he saw a woman washing
clothes at the other side of the tank but he thought that she would not
notice him, so he went up to the cow and said “Mother, give me a
change of clothes.” Thereupon the cow vomited up some nice new
clothes and he put them on and looked very fine. Then he asked the cow
for some plates and dishes and she gave them; then he asked for some
bread and some dried rice, and he ate all he wanted and then asked the
cow to keep the plates and dishes for him; and the cow swallowed them
up again.

Now the woman by the tank had seen all that had happened and ran
home and told her husband what she had seen and begged him to get hold
of the wonderful cow by some means or other. Her husband could not
believe her but agreed to put it to the test, so they both went to Kara
and asked where he was going and offered to give him supper, and put
him up for the night and give grass for his cow. He accepted this
invitation and went with them to their house and they gave him the
guest-room to sleep in and asked what he would have to eat, but he said
that he did not want any supper,—for he intended to get a meal
from the cow after every one was asleep. Then the man and his wife made
a plot and pretended to have a violent quarrel and after abusing each
other for some time the man flung out of the house in a passion and
pretended to run away; but after going a short distance he crept back
quietly to the guest-room. Hanging from the roof was the body of a cart
and he climbed up into that and hid himself, without Kara knowing
anything about it. When Kara thought that every one was asleep, he
asked his cow for some food and having made a good meal went to
sleep.

The man watching up above saw everything and [85]found
that his wife had spoken the truth; so in the middle of the night he
climbed down and led away Kara’s magic cow and put in its place
one of his own cows of the same colour. Early the next morning Kara got
up and unfastened the cow and began to lead it away, but the cow would
not follow him; then he saw that it had been changed and he called his
host and charged him with the theft. The man denied it and told him to
call any villagers who had seen him bring his cow the day before; now
no one had seen him come but Kara insisted that the cow had been
changed and went to summon the village headman and the villagers to
decide the matter: but the thief managed to give a bribe of one hundred
rupees to the headman and one hundred rupees to the villagers and made
them promise to decide in his favour; so when they met together they
told Kara that he must take the cow which he had found tied up in the
morning.

Kara protested and said that he would fetch the person from whom he
had got the cow and take whichever cow he pointed out. Telling them
that they were responsible for his cow while he was away, he hastened
off to the cave where the jackals lived. The jackals somehow knew that
he had been swindled out of the cow, and they met him saying
“Well, man, have you lost your cow?” And he answered that
he had come to fetch them to judge between himself and the villagers:
so the jackals went with him and he went straight to the headman and
told him to collect all the villagers; meanwhile the jackals spread a
mat under a peepul tree and sat on it chewing pan and when the
villagers had assembled the jackal began to speak, and said: “If
a judge takes a bribe his descendants for several generations shall eat
filth, in this world and the next; but if he make public confession,
then he shall escape this punishment. This is what our forefathers have
[86]said; and the man who defrauds another shall be
thrust down into hell; this also they have said. Now all of you make
honest enquiry into this matter; we will swear before God to do justice
and the complainant and the accused shall also take oath and we will
decide fairly.” Then the village headman was conscience stricken
and admitted that he had taken a bribe of one hundred rupees, and the
villagers also confessed that they had been bribed; then the jackal
asked the accused what he had to say to this: but he persisted that he
had not changed the cow; the jackal asked him what penalty he would pay
if he were proved guilty and he said that he would pay double. Then the
jackal called the villagers to witness that the man had fixed his
punishment, and he proposed that he and his wife should go to the herd
of cattle, and if they could pick out the cow that Kara claimed it
would be sure proof that it was his. So the jackals went and at once
picked out the cow, and the villagers were astonished and cried.
“This is a just judgment! They have come from a distance and have
recognised the cow at once.” The man who had stolen it had no
answer to give; then the jackal said: “You yourself promised to
pay double; you gave a bribe of one hundred rupees to the headman and
one hundred rupees to the villagers and the cow you stole is worth two
hundred rupees that is four hundred rupees, therefore you must pay a
fine of eight hundred rupees; and the man was made to produce eight
hundred rupees and the jackal gave all the money to the villagers
except ten rupees which he gave to Kara; and he kept nothing for
himself.

Then Kara and the jackals went away with the cow, and after getting
outside the village the jackals again warned Kara not to ask the cow
for anything when anyone was by and took their leave of him and went
home. Kara continued his journey and at evening [87]arrived
at a large mango orchard in which a number of carters were camping for
the night. So Kara stopped under a tree at a little distance from the
carters and tied his cow to the root. Soon a storm came up and the
carters all took shelter underneath their carts and Kara asked his cow
for a tent and he and the cow took shelter in it. It rained hard all
night and in the morning the carters saw the tent and wondered where it
came from, and came to the conclusion that the cow must have produced
it; so they resolved to steal the cow.

Kara did not dare to make the cow swallow the tent in the day time
while the carters were about, so he stayed there all the next day and
at night the cow put away the tent. Then when Kara was asleep some
carters came and took away the cow and put in its place a cow with a
calf, and they hid the magic cow within a wall of packs from their pack
bullocks. In the morning Kara at once saw what had happened and went to
the carters and charged them with the theft; they denied all knowledge
of the matter and told him he might look for his cow if he liked; so he
searched the encampment but could not see it.

Then he called the village headman and chowkidar and they searched
and could not find the cow and they advised Kara to keep the cow and
calf as it must be better than his own barren cow; but he refused and
said that he would complain to the magistrate and he made the headman
promise not to let the carters go until he came back. So he went to a
Mahommedan magistrate and it chanced that he was an honest man who gave
just judgments and took no bribes, and made no distinction between the
rich and the poor; he always listened to both sides carefully, not like
some rascally magistrates who always believe the story that is first
told them and pay no attention to what the other side say. So when Kara
made his complaint this magistrate [88]at once sent for the carters and
the carters swore that they had not stolen the cow: and offered to
forfeit all the property they had with them, if the cow were found in
their possession.

Then the magistrate sent police to search the encampment and the
police pulled down the pile of packs that had been put round the cow,
and found the cow inside and took it to the magistrate. Then the
magistrate ordered the carters to fulfil their promise and put them all
in prison and gave all their property to Kara. So Kara loaded all the
merchandise on the carts and pack bullocks and went home rejoicing. At
first the villagers did not recognise who it was who had come with so
much wealth but Kara made himself known to them and they were very
astonished and helped him to build a grand house. Then Kara went to the
Raja from whom he had borrowed the money for his parents’
funerals and paid back what he owed. The Raja was so pleased with him
that he gave him his daughter in marriage and afterwards Kara claimed
his father-in-law’s kingdom and got possession of it and lived
prosperously ever after.

And the seven sons of his first master who used to scold him were
excited by his success and thought that if they went to foreign parts
they also could gain great wealth; so they took some money from their
father and went off. But all they did was to squander their capital and
in the end they had to come back penniless to their father.

[Contents]

XXII. Lita and His Animals.

Once upon a time there was a man who had four sons: two of them were
married and two were unmarried and the youngest was named Lita. One day
Lita went to his father and asked for fifty or sixty rupees that
[89]he might go on a trading expedition and he
promised that if he lost the money he would not ask for any share in
the paternal property. As he was very urgent his father at last gave
him sixty rupees and he set out on his travels. After going some way he
came to a village in which all the inhabitants were chasing a cat; he
asked them what was the matter and they told him that the cat was
always stealing their Raja’s milk and the Raja had offered a
reward of twenty rupees to anyone who would kill it. Then Lita said to
them “Do not kill the cat; catch it alive and give it to me and I
will pay you twenty rupees for it; then you can go to the Raja and say
that you have killed it and ask for the reward; and if the Raja asks to
see the body tell him that a stranger came and asked for the body, for
he thought that a cat which had fed on milk should be good eating and
so you gave it to him.” The villagers thought that this would be
an excellent plan and promised to bring him the cat alive. They soon
managed to catch it hiding under a heap of firewood and brought it to
Lita and he paid them twenty rupees and then they went to the Raja and
got twenty rupees from him.

Then Lita went on, and by-and-bye came to a village where the
villagers were hunting an otter in a tank; they had made a cut in the
bank and had let out all the water. Lita went to them and asked what
they were doing; they said that they were hunting for an otter which
had been destroying the Raja’s fish and the Raja had promised
them a reward if they killed it, and they had driven it into the tank
and were draining off the water in order to catch it. Then Lita offered
to buy it of them if they brought it to him alive; so when they caught
it they brought it to him and he gave them money for it and continued
his journey with the cat and the otter. Presently he saw a crowd of men
and [90]he went up to them and asked what they were doing:
and they told him that they were hunting a rat which was always gnawing
the Raja’s pens and papers and the Raja had offered a reward for
it, and they had driven it out of the palace, but it had taken refuge
in a hole and they were going to dig it out Then Lita offered to buy it
from them as he had bought the other two animals and they dug it out
and sold it to him.

He went on and in the same way found a crowd of men hunting a snake
which had bitten many people: and he offered to buy it for twenty
rupees and when they had chased it till it was exhausted, they caught
it alive and sold it to Lita. As his money was all spent, he then set
off homewards; and on the way the snake began to speak and said:
“Lita, you have saved my life; had you not come by, those men
would certainly have had my life; come with me to my home, where my
father and mother are, and I will give you anything you ask for; we
have great possessions.” But Lita was afraid and said:
“When you get me there you will eat me, or if you don’t,
your father and mother will.” But the snake protested that it
could not be guilty of such ingratitude and at last Lita agreed to
accompany it when he had left the other animals at his home.

This he did and set off alone with the snake, and after some days
they reached the snake’s home. The snake told Lita to wait
outside while he went and apprized his parents and he told Lita that
when he was asked to choose his reward he should name nothing but the
ring which was on the father-snake’s finger, for the ring had
this property that if it were placed in a seer of milk and then
asked to produce anything whatever, that thing would immediately
appear. Then the snake went on to his home and when the father and
mother saw him they fell on his neck and kissed him and wept over him
saying that they had never expected to see him again; the snake told
them [91]how he had gone to the country of men and how a
reward had been set on his head and he had been hunted, and how Lita
had bought him from the men who would have killed him. The father snake
asked why he had not brought Lita to be rewarded and the snake said
that he was afraid that when they saw him they would eat him.

But the father and mother swore that they could not be guilty of
such ingratitude, and when he heard this the snake went and brought in
Lita, and they entertained him handsomely for two days; and on the
third day the father snake asked Lita what he would take as his reward.
Lita looked round at the shining palace in which they lived and at
first was afraid to speak but at last he said: “I do not want
money or anything but the ring on your finger: if you will not give me
that, I will take nothing; I saved your son from peril and that you
will remember all your lives, and if you give me the ring I will honour
you for it as long as I live.” Then the father and mother snake
consulted together and the mother said “Give it to him as he asks
for it” so the father snake drew it from his finger and gave it
to Lita and they gave him also some money for his journey back; and he
went home and found the other three animals safe and sound waiting for
him.

After a time his father said that Lita must marry; so marriage
go-betweens were sent out to look for a bride and they found a very
rich and beautiful girl whose parents were agreeable to the match. But
the girl herself said that she would only marry a man who would build a
covered passage from her house to his, so that she could walk to her
new home in the shade. The go-betweens reported this, and Lita’s
father and brothers consulted and agreed that they could never make
such a passage, but Lita said to his father: “Arrange the match;
it shall be my charge to arrange for making [92]the
covered passage; I will not let you be put to shame over it.” For
Lita had already put the ring to the test: he had dropped it into a
seer of milk and said “Let five bharias of parched
rice and two bharias of curds appear” and immediately the
parched rice and curds were before him; and thereupon he had called out
“The snake has worthily rewarded me for saving his life;”
and the cat and the otter and the rat overheard what he said.

So the go-between was told to arrange for the wedding to take place
that very month, as Lita’s birthday fell in the next month, which
therefore was not suitable for his wedding. Then the bride’s
family sent him back to say that they were prepared to send a string of
nine knots; and the next day the go-between told this to Lita’s
family and they said that they were willing to accept it; so the
go-between brought a string of nine knots to signify that the wedding
would take place in nine days. The days passed by and Lita’s
father and brothers became very anxious because they saw no sign of the
covered passage; but on the very night before the wedding, Lita took
his ring and ordered a covered passage to be made from the one house to
the other with a good path down the middle; and the next morning they
found it made; and the bridegroom’s party passed along it to the
bride’s house and the bride was escorted home along it.

Now the bride had been deeply in love with another young man who
lived in her village and had much wished to marry him but her wishes of
course were not consulted in the matter. Some time after the marriage
she one day in the course of conversation asked her husband Lita how
much he had spent on making the covered passage to her house and how he
had built it so quickly. He told her that he knew nothing about it;
that his father and mother had arranged for it and no doubt
[93]had spent a large sum of money. So the next day
she took an opportunity of asking her mother-in-law about it, but
Lita’s mother said that nothing had been spent at all; somehow
the passage had been made in one night, she knew not how.

Then Lita’s wife saw that Lita was keeping a secret from her,
and she began to reproach him for having any secrets from his wife: and
at last when she had faithfully promised never to reveal the matter to
anyone, he told her the secret of the ring. Now her former lover used
still to visit her and one day she sent for him and said that she would
no longer live with Lita, but wished to run away with him. The lover at
first objected that they would be pursued and killed while if they
escaped to a distance he would have nothing to support her with; but
the faithless woman said that there need be no anxiety about that and
she told him about the magic ring and how by means of it they could
provide themselves with a house and everything they wanted. So they
fixed a night for the elopement and on that night when Lita was asleep
his wife quietly drew the ring off his finger and went out to her lover
who was waiting outside and told him to get a goat from the pen; then
they beheaded the goat and went inside and poured all its blood on the
ground under the bed on which Lita was sleeping, and then having hid
the body and head of the goat, they ran away.

Towards morning Lita woke up and missed his wife, so he lit a lamp
to look for her and then saw the pool of blood under the bed. At this
sight he was terror stricken. Some enemy had killed and carried off his
wife and he would be charged with the murder. So he lay there wondering
what would happen to him. At last his mother came into the room to see
why he and his wife had not got up as usual and when she saw the blood
she raised a cry; the village headman and chowkidar [94]were
sent for and they questioned Lita, but he could only say that he knew
nothing of what had happened; he did not know what the blood was, he
did not know where his wife was. Thereupon they sent two men to the
house of the wife’s parents to see if by any chance she had run
away there and in any case to bring her relations to be present at the
enquiry into her disappearance. When her father and brothers heard what
had happened they at once went to Lita’s house in wrath and
abused him as a murderer. They asked why, if his wife had not done her
duty to him, he had not sent her back to them to be chastised and
taught better, instead of murdering her and they went straight to the
magistrate and complained: the magistrate sent police who arrested Lita
and took him before the magistrate.

Meanwhile it had become known that not only was Lita’s wife
missing but also her lover; and Lita’s father presented a
petition to the magistrate bringing this to notice and asserting that
the two must have run away together. Then the magistrate ordered every
search to be made for the missing couple but said that Lita must remain
in custody till they were found, so he was shut up in prison. From
prison he made an application to the magistrate that his three tame
animals, the cat and the otter and the rat might be brought to the
place where he was; the magistrate kindly consented but the animals
were not allowed into the prison. However at night the rat being small
made its way inside and found out Lita, and asked what was to be done.
Lita said that he wanted the three animals to save him from his great
danger as he had saved them; he wanted them to trace his wife and her
lover and recover the ring; they would doubtless find them living in
some gorgeous palace, the gift of the ring.

The rat went out and gave the other two Lita’s message and
they readily undertook to do their best; [95]so the next morning the
three animals set off. In vain they hunted all over the country, till
one day they came to the bank of the Ganges and there on the other side
they saw a palace shining like gold. At this their hopes revived, for
this might be a palace made by the magic ring. But the cat and the rat
objected that they could not cross the river. The otter said that he
would easily manage that and he took the cat on his back and the rat
climbed on to the back of the cat and so the otter ferried them both
across the river; then they consulted and decided that it would be
safest to wait till the evening before they went to the palace to see
who lived in it. When they looked in in the evening, they at once
recognised Lita’s wife and her lover; but these two were in
constant terror of being pursued and when they had had their evening
meal they fastened and bolted every entrance so securely that no one
could gain admittance. Then the cat and the otter told the rat that he
must collect all the rats of the neighbourhood and they must burrow
through the wall and find some way of abstracting the magic ring.

So the rat collected a crowd of his friends and in no time they
bored a hole through the wall; then they all began to look for the
ring; they hunted high and low but could not find it; however the cat
sat at the entrance of the hole which they had made and vowed that they
should not come out, unless they got the ring. Then the first rat
climbed on to the bed in which the couple were sleeping and searched
their clothes and examined their fingers and toes but in vain; then he
thought that the woman might have it in her mouth so he climbed on to
her chest and tickled her nose with the tip of his tail; this made her
sneeze and behold she sneezed out the ring which she had hidden in her
mouth. The rat seized it and ran off with it and when the cat was
satisfied that he had really got it, she let him out [96]and the
three friends set off rejoicing on their homeward journey. They crossed
the river in the same way as when they came with the cat riding on the
otter and the rat on the cat: and the rat held the ring in its mouth.
Unfortunately when they were halfway across, a kite swooped down to try
and carry off the rat. Twice it swooped and missed its grasp but the
second time it struck the rat with its wing and the rat in terror let
the ring fall into the river.

When they reached the bank the three friends consulted what they
were to do in this fresh misfortune. As the otter was the only one who
could swim it volunteered to look for the ring, so it plunged into the
water and searched the bottom of the river in vain; then it guessed
that a fish must have swallowed the ring and it set to work to catch
every fish it saw and tore them open; at last in the stomach of a big
fish it found the ring, so it brought the fish to the bank and while
they were all rejoicing and eating a little of the fish a kite swooped
down and carried off the fish, ring and all.

The three animals watched the kite flying away with the fish; but
some women who were gathering firewood ran after the kite and took the
fish from it and putting it in their basket went home. Then the otter
and the rat said to the cat “Now it is your turn: we have both
recovered the ring once, but we cannot go into the house of these
humans. They will let you go near them easily enough; the ring is in
the fish’s stomach, you must watch whether they throw away the
stomach or clean it, and find an opportunity for carrying off the
ring.”

So the cat ran after the women and when they began to cut up the
fish, it kept mewing round them. They threw one or two scraps to it,
but it only sniffed at them and would not eat them; then they began to
wonder what on earth the cat wanted, and at last they threw the stomach
to it. This it seized on gladly and [97]carried it off and tore it open
and found the ring and ran off with it to where the otter and the rat
were waiting. Then the three friends travelled hard for a day and a
night and reached the prison in which Lita was confined.

When Lita got the ring he begged his jailer to get him a seer
of milk and when it was brought he dropped the ring in it, and said
“I wish the bed on which my faithless wife and her lover are
sleeping to be brought here with them in it this very night” and
before morning the bed was brought to the prison. Then the magistrate
was called and when he saw that the wife was alive he released Lita,
and the lover who had run away with her had to pay Lita double the
expenditure which had been incurred on his marriage, and was fined
beside.

But Lita married another wife and lived happily with her. And some
time afterwards he called the otter and the cat and the rat to him and
said that he purposed to let them go and before they parted he would
give them anything they wished for. They said that he owed them
nothing, and they made Lita promise to let them know if ever he lost
the ring or fell into trouble, and he promised to help them if ever
their lives were in danger, and one morning he took them to a bazar,
near which was a tank full of fish, and he turned the otter into the
tank and left the cat and the rat to support themselves in the bazar.
The next day he went to see them and the otter came out of the tank and
gave him a fish which it had caught, and the cat brought him some milk
it had stolen, and that was the last he saw of them.

[Contents]

XXIII. The Boy Who Found His Father.

There was once a boy who used always to cheat when playing
Kati (pitch and toss) and for this the village [98]boys
with whom he played used to quarrel with him, saying “Fatherless
orphan, why do you cheat?” So one day he asked his mother why
they called him that name and whether his father was really dead.
“He is alive” said she “but a long time ago a
rhinoceros carried him off on its horn.” Then the boy vowed that
he would go in search of his father and made his mother put him up
provisions for the journey; and he started off taking with him an iron
bow and a big bundle of arrows.

He journeyed on all day and at nightfall he came to a village; there
he went up to the house of an old woman to ask for a bed. He stood at
the threshhold and called out to her “Grannie, grannie, open the
door.” “I have no son, and no grandchildren to call me
grannie,” grumbled the old woman and went to open the door to see
who was there, and when she opened the door and saw him, she said
“Ho, you are my grandson.” “Yes,” answered he,
“I am your grandchild.” So she called him inside and gave
him a bed to sleep on. The old woman was called Hutibudi; and she and
the boy sat up late talking together and then they lay down to sleep;
but in the middle of the night he heard the old woman crunching away
trying to bite his bow to pieces. He asked her what she was eating:
“Some pulse I got from the village headman,” “Give me
a little to try” he begged. “I am sorry my child, I have
finished it all.” But really she had none to give, however she
only hurt her jaws biting so that she began to groan with pain:
“What are you groaning for, Grannie?” said the boy;
“Because I have toothache” she answered: and in truth her
cheeks were badly swollen. Then he told her that a good cure for
toothache was to bite on a white stone and she believed him and the
next morning got a piece of white quartz and began to bite on it; but
this only broke her teeth and made her mouth bleed [99]so that
the pain was worse than before: then the boy jeered at her and said.
“Did you think, Grannie, that you could bite my iron bow and
arrows?”

So saying he left her and continued the search for his father and
his road led him to a dense jungle which seemed to have no end, and in
the middle of the jungle he came to a lake and he sat down by it to eat
what was left of the provisions he had brought: as he sat, he suddenly
saw some cow-bison coming down to the lake: at this he caught up his
bow and arrows in a hurry and climbed up a tall sal tree: from
the tree he watched the bison go down to the water to drink and then go
back into the jungle. And after them tigers and bears came down to the
water: the sight of them frightened him and he sang:—

“Drink your fill, tiger,

I shall not shoot you.

I shall shoot the giant rhinoceros.”

and they drank and went away. Then various kinds of birds came and
after them a great herd of rhinoceroses and among them was one which
had the dried up body of the boy’s father stuck on its horn. The
boy was rather frightened and sang

“Drink your fill, rhinoceroses,

I shall not shoot you

I shall shoot the giant rhinoceros.”

and when the giant rhinoceros with the body of his father stooped
its head to drink from the lake, he put an arrow through it and it
turned a somersault and fell over dead: while all the other
rhinoceroses turned tail and ran away. Then the boy climbed down from
the tree and pulled the dead body of his father off the horn of the
dead animal and laid it down at the foot of a tree and began to weep
over it. As he wept a man suddenly stood before him and asked what was
the matter, and when [100]he heard, said “Cry no more: take a
cloth and wet it in the lake and cover your father’s body with
it: and then whip the body with a meral twig and he will come to
life.” So saying the stranger suddenly disappeared; and the boy
obeyed his instructions and behold his father sat up alive and rubbing
his eyes said “I must have been asleep a very long time.”
Then his son explained to him all that had happened and gave him some
food and took him home.

[Contents]

XXIV. The Oilman’s Bullock.

There was once a poor but industrious oilman; he got a log of wood
and carved out an oil mill and, borrowing some money as capital, he
bought mustard and sesame seed and set to work to press it; as he had
no bullock he had to turn the mill himself. He was so industrious that
he soon began to prosper and was able to buy a bullock for his mill. By
and bye he got so rich that he was able to buy some land and a cart and
pair of bullocks and was quite a considerable man in the village. One
day one of his cart bullocks died and this loss was a sad blow to the
oilman. However he tied up the surviving bullock in the stable along
with the old oil mill bullock and fed them well. One night it chanced
that one of the villagers passed by the stable and hear the
two animals talking and this is what he heard.

The young bullock said “You came to this house first, friend;
what sort of treatment does one get here?”

“Why do you ask me?” said the other. “Oh, I see
your shoulder is galled and your neck shows mark of the yoke.”
The old bullock answered “Whether my master treats me well or ill
I owe him money and have to stay here until I have paid him off. When I
have paid him five hundred rupees I shall go.” “How will
[101]you ever pay back such a sum?” “If
my master would only match me to fight the Raja’s elephant for
five hundred rupees I should win the fight and my debt would be
cleared; and if he does not do that I shall probably have to work for
him all my life. How long do you intend to stay?” “My debt
will be cleared if I work for him two years” answered the new
comer.

The man who overheard this conversation was much astonished and went
off to the oilman and told him all about it. Next day the whole village
had heard of it and they were all anxious for the oilman to match his
bullock against the Raja’s elephant; but the oilman was very
frightened, for he feared that if he sent such a challenge, the Raja
would be angry with him and drive him out of the country. But the
leading villagers urged him and undertook to find the money if he lost,
and to persuade the Raja that the oilman was mad, if he became angry
with him. At last the oilman consented, provided that some of the
villagers went to the Raja and proposed the match; he was too
frightened to go himself. So two of the village elders went to the Raja
and asked him to match his elephant against the oilman’s bullock
for five hundred rupees; the Raja was very much amused and at once
fixed a day for the fight. So they returned and told the oilman to be
ready and raised a subscription of five hundred rupees.

The evening before the contest the oilman gave the bullock a big
feed of meal and oilcake; and on the eventful morning the villagers all
collected and watched him oiling its horns and tying a bell round its
neck. Then the oilman gave the bullock a slap on its back and said
“Take care: you are going to fight an elephant; if you owe me so
much money you will win, and if not, then you will be defeated.”
When he said this the bullock pawed the ground and snorted and put down
its head. [102]

Then they all set out with the five hundred rupees to a level field
near the Raja’s palace; a great crowd collected to see the fun
and the Raja went there expecting easily to win five hundred rupees.
The elephant was brought forward with vermilion on its cheeks, and a
pad on its back, and a big bell round its neck, and a mahout riding it.
The crowd called out “Put down the stakes:” so each side
produced the money and publicly announced that the owner of the animal
which should be victorious should take all the stakes. But the oilman
objected to the mahout’s riding the elephant; no one was going to
ride his bullock. This was seen to be fair and the mahout had to get
off; then the fight began. The bullock snorted and blew through its
nose, and ran at the elephant with its head lowered. Then the elephant
also rushed forward but the bullock stood its ground and stamped; at
this the elephant turned tail and ran away; the bullock ran after it
and gored it from behind until it trumpeted with pain. The crowd
shouted “The Raja’s elephant is beaten.” And the
oilman took the five hundred rupees and they all went home. From that
day the oilman no longer put the bullock to work the oil mill but fed
it well and left it free to go where it liked. But the bullock only
stayed on with him for one month and then died.

[Contents]

XXV. How Sabai Grass Grew.

Once upon a time there were seven brothers who had an only sister.
These brothers undertook the excavation of a large tank; but although
they spent large sums and dug very deep they could not reach water and
the tank remained dry.

One day as they were consulting what to do to get the tank to fill,
they saw a Jogi corning towards them with a lota in his hand; they at
once called to him to come and advise them, for they thought that, as
he spent [103]his time wandering from country to country, he
might somewhere have learned some thing which would be of use to them.
All the Jogi said to them was “You have a sister: if you
sacrifice her, the tank will fill with water.” The brothers were
fond of the girl, but in their despair at seeing their labour wasted
they agreed to give the advice of the Jogi a trial. So they told their
mother the next day that, when their sister brought them out their
midday meal, she was to be dressed in her best and carry the rice in a
new basket and must bring a new water pot to draw their water in. At
midday the girl went down to her brothers with her best cloth and all
her jewellery on; and when they saw their victim
coming they could not keep from tears. She asked them what they were
grieving for; they told her that nothing was the matter and sent her to
draw water in her new water-pot from the dry tank. Directly the girl
drew near to the bank the water began to bubble up from the bottom; and
when she went down to the water’s edge it rose to her instep. She
bent down to fill her pot but the pot would not fill though the water
rose higher and higher; then she sang:—

“The water has risen, brother,

And wetted my ankle, brother,

But still the lota in my hand

Will not sink below the surface.”

But the water rose to her knees and the pot would not fill, and she
sang:—

“The water has risen, brother,

And wetted my knees, brother,

But still the lota in my hand

Will not sink below the surface.”

Then the water rose to her waist and the pot would not fill, and she
sang:—

“The water has risen, brother,

And wetted my waist, brother,

[104]

But still the lota in my hand

Will not sink below the surface.”

Then the water reached her neck and the pot would not fill; and she
sang:—

The water has risen, brother,

And wetted my neck, brother,

But still the lota in my hand

Will not sink below the surface.”

At last it flowed over her head and the water-pot was filled, but
the girl was drowned. The tank however remained brimful of sparkling
water.

Now the unhappy girl had been betrothed and her wedding day was just
at hand. On the day fixed the marriage broker came to announce the
approach of the bridegroom; who shortly afterwards arrived at the
outskirts of the village in his palki. The seven brothers met him, and
the usual dancing began.

The bridegroom’s party however wished to know why the bride
did not appear. The brothers put them off with various excuses, saying
that the girl had gone with her friends to gather firewood or to the
river to draw water. At last the bridegroom’s party got tired of
waiting and turned to go home in great wrath at the way in which they
had been treated. On their way they passed by the tank in which the
girl had been sacrificed and, growing in the middle of it, they saw a
most beautiful flower. The bridegroom at once determined to possess
this, and he told his drummers to pick it for him; but whenever one of
them tried to pick it, the flower moved out of his reach and a voice
came from the flower saying:—

“Take the flower, drummer,

But the branch you must not break.”

and when they told him what the flower sang the bridegroom said that
he would try and pick it himself; no [105]sooner had he reached
the bank than the flower of its own accord floated towards him and he
pulled it up by the roots and took it with him into the palki. After
they had gone a little way the palki bearers felt the palki strangely
heavy: and when they looked in they found the bride also sitting in it,
dressed in yellow garments; for the flower was really the girl who had
been drowned.

So they joyfully took the happy couple with drumming and music to
the bridegroom’s house.

In a short time misfortune befel the seven brothers; they fell into
the deepest poverty and were forced to earn what they could by selling
leaves and sticks which they gathered in the jungle. As they went about
selling these, they one day came to the village where their sister was
living and as they cried their wares through the streets they were told
to go to the house where the marriage had taken place. They went there,
and as they were selling their leaf plates their sister saw and
recognised them; they had only ragged loincloths on, and their skins
were black and cracked like a crocodile’s.

At the sight their sister began to cry. Her friends asked what was
the matter and she said a straw from the thatch had run into her eye,
so they pulled down some of the thatch; she still went on crying and
they again asked what was wrong; she said that she had knocked her foot
against a stone in the ground; so they dug up the stone and threw it
away. But she still went on weeping and at last confessed that the
miserable-looking leaf-sellers were her brothers. Then her
husband’s parents told her to be comforted, and they gave the
brothers oil and bade them go and bathe and oil their bodies: but the
brothers were so hungry that when they got to the bathing place they
drank the oil and ate the oil cake that had been given to them; and
came back with their skins as rough as when [106]they
went. So then they were given more oil and some of the household went
with them and made them bathe and oil themselves properly and then
brought them to the house and gave them new clothes and made them a
feast of meat and rice. According to the custom of the country they
were made to sit down in order of age and were helped in that order;
when they had all been helped and had eaten, their sister said to them
“Now brothers you come running to me for food, and yet you
sacrificed me in the tank.” Then they were overwhelmed with
shame: they looked up at the sky but there was no escape there; they
looked down at the earth; and the earth split open and they all ran
into the chasm. The sister tried to catch the youngest brother by the
hair and pull him out, calling “Come back, brother, come back
brother, you shall carry my baby about for me!” but his hair came
off in her hand and the earth swallowed them all up. Their sister
planted the hair in a corner of the garden and it is said that from
that human hair, sabai grass originated.

[Contents]

XXVI. The Merchant’s Son and the Raja’s Daughter.

Once a merchant’s wife and a Raja’s wife were both with
child and one day as they bathed together they fell into conversation,
and they agreed that if they both bore daughters then the girls should
be “flower friends” while if one had a son and one a
daughter then the children should marry: and they committed the
agreement to writing. A month or two later the Raja’s wife bore a
daughter and the merchant’s wife a son. When the children grew up
a bit they were sent to school, and as they were both very intelligent
they soon learnt to read and write. At the school the boys used to be
taught in an upstairs room and the girls on the ground [107]floor. One day the boy wrote out a copy of the
agreement which their mothers had made and threw It down to the girl
who was below.

She read it and from that day they began to correspond with each
other; love soon followed and they decided to elope. They fixed a day
and they arranged that the boy should wait for the girl under a
turu tree outside the town. When the evening came the girl made
haste to cook her parents’ supper and then, when they went to
bed, she had as usual to soothe them to sleep by rubbing their limbs;
all this took a long time and the merchant’s son soon got tired
of waiting, so he sang to the tree:—

“Be witness be witness for me ‘Turu
tree’

When the Raja’s daughter comes.”

and so singing he tied his horse to the roots of the tree and
himself climbed up into the branches, and sitting in the tree he pulled
off and threw down a number of twigs. Late at night the Raja’s
daughter came; she saw the horse tied and the twigs scattered on the
ground, but no other sign of her lover. And at last she got tired of
waiting and called the Turu tree to witness, singing:—

“Be witness be witness for me ‘Turu
tree’

When the merchant’s son comes.”

As she finished her song the merchant’s son threw down a large
branch to her, so she looked up and saw him sitting in the tree. Then
she climbed up to him and began to scold him for putting her to the
pain of waiting so long. He retorted “It was you who made me
anxious by keeping me waiting.” “That was not my fault: you
know how much work a woman has to do. I had to cook the supper and put
my parents to bed and rub them to sleep. Climb down and let us be
off.” So they climbed down from the tree and [108]mounted the horse and rode off to a far country.
On the road the girl became very thirsty but in the dense jungle they
could find no water, at last the merchant’s son threw a stone at
hazard and they heard it splash in a pool; so they went in the
direction of the sound and there they found water but it was foul and
full of worms and the girl refused to drink it. She said that she would
only drink water “which had a father and mother.”

So they went on their way, and after a time they came to a number of
crows holding a meeting and in the midst was an owl with its head
nodding drowsily; it was seeing dreams for them; every now and then a
crow would give it a shove and ask what it had dreamt, but the owl only
murmured that it had not finished and went off to sleep again. At last
it said “I have seen a gander and a goose go down into a river
and swim about in it.”

The merchant’s son and his companion went on and presently
came to a river in full flood, which was quite uncrossable; on the far
bank was a cow lowing to a calf which had been left on the bank where
they were. When she saw them the girl began to sing:—

“The cow lows for its calf

The calf bleats for its mother:

My father and mother

Are weeping for me at home.”

When he heard her lament like this the merchant’s son
exclaimed

“You women are all alike, come let us go back.”

“How can we go back now?” answered the girl “You
of course can pretend that you have been hunting; but we women lose our
character if we are hidden by a bush for a minute.”

So as they could not cross the river by themselves, a goose and
gander carried them across on their backs. As they went on the
merchant’s son asked the girl [109]how far she would
like to go, a six days’ journey or a six months’ journey.
He told her that in the six months’ journey they would only have
fruits and roots and such like to eat and water to drink, but the six
days’ journey was easy and free from hardship.

The girl chose the six days’ journey, so they went on for six
days and came to a stream on the banks of which stood a cottage in
which lived an old woman. Before they went up to it the girl told her
lover not to eat any rice given to him by the old woman but to throw it
to the fowls; then they went and asked to be allowed to cook their food
there; now the old woman had seven unmarried sons, who were away
hunting at the time, and when she saw the Raja’s daughter she
wished to detain her and marry her to one of her sons. So in order to
delay them she gave them a damp stove and green firewood to cook with;
she also offered the merchant’s son some poisoned rice but he
threw it to the fowls, and when they ate it they fell down dead.

The girl could not make the fire burn with the green wood, so they
hurried away as fast as they could without waiting to cook any food.
Before they started however the old woman managed to tie up some
mustard seed in a cloth and fasten it to their horse’s tail, so
that as they rode, the seed was spilt along the road they took. When
the old woman’s sons came back from hunting she greeted them by
saying: “Why did you not come back sooner? I have just found a
pretty wife for you; but I have tied mustard seed to their
horse’s tail and it is being scattered along the road: in one
place it is sprouting in another it is flowering; in another it is
seeding and in another it is ripe; when you get to the place where it
is ripe you will catch them.” So the seven brothers pursued the
two lovers and caught them up, but the merchant’s son cut down
six of them with his sword; the seventh however hid under the
[110]horse’s belly and begged for mercy and
offered to serve them as groom to their horse. This man’s name
was Damagurguria; they spared his life and he followed them running
behind the horse; but he watched his opportunity and caught the
merchant’s son unawares and killed him with his sword.

Then he told the girl that she belonged to him and she admitted it
and asked that she might ride behind him on the horse, so Damagurguria
mounted and took her up behind him and turned homewards. He could not
see what the girl was doing and they had not gone far when she drew his
sword and killed him with it.

Then she rode back to where the body of her lover lay and began to
weep over it. As she sat there a man in shining white clothing appeared
and asked what was the matter; she told him Damagurguria had killed her
lover. Then he bade her stop crying and go and wet a gamcha he
gave her and come straight back with it without looking behind her and
then pick a meral twig and beat the corpse with it. So the girl
took the gamcha and went and dipped it in a pool but, as she was
bringing it back, she heard a loud roaring behind her and she looked
back to see what it was; so the stranger sent her back again to the
pool and this time she did not look round though she heard the same
roaring. Then the stranger told her to join the severed head to the
body and cover it with the wet gamcha; and then, after waiting a
little, to beat the body with the meral twig. So saying he
disappeared. The girl carefully complied with these instructions and to
her joy saw the merchant’s son sit up and rub his eyes, remarking
that he must have been asleep for a long time. Great was his
astonishment when he heard how Damagurguria had killed him and how he
had been restored to life by the help of the stranger in white. This
was the end of the lovers’ troubles and they lived happily ever
after. [111]

[Contents]

XXVII. The Flycatcher’s Egg.

One day a herd boy found a flycatcher’s egg and he brought it
home and asked his mother to cook it for him, but she put it on a shelf
and forgot about it. His mother was a poor woman and had to go out all
day to work; so before she started she used always to cook her
son’s dinner and leave it covered up all ready for him. No sooner
had she gone to work than a bonga girl used to come out of the
flycatcher’s egg and first eat up the rice that had been left for
the herd boy and then quickly put water on to boil and cook some rice
with pulse; and, having eaten part of it, cover up the rest, ready for
the herd boy on his return. Then she used to comb and dress her hair
and go back into the egg. This happened every day and at last the boy
asked his mother why she gave him rice cooked with pulse every day, as
he was tired of it. His mother was much astonished and said that some
one must have been changing his food, because she always cooked his
rice with vegetables. At this the boy resolved to watch and see who was
touching his food; so one day he climbed up on to the rafters and lay
in wait. Presently out of the egg came the bonga girl and cooked
the food and combed her hair as usual. Just as she was going back into
the egg, the herd boy sprang down and caught her. “Fi, Fi,”
cried she “is it a Dome or a Hadi who is clasping
me?” “No Dome or Hadi,” said he:
“we are husband and wife:” so he took her to wife and they
lived happily together.

He strictly forbade her ever to go outside the house and he said
incantations over some mustard seed and gave it to her, and told her
that, if any beggars came, she was to give them alms through the window
and, if they refused to take them in that [112]way, then she was to
throw the mustard seed at them; but on no account to go outside the
house. One day when her husband was away a jugi came begging; the
bonga girl offered him alms through the window but the jugi
flatly refused to take them; he insisted on her coming out of the house
and giving them. Then she threw the mustard seed at him and he turned
into ashes. By superior magic however he at once recovered his own form
and again insisted on her coming outside to give him alms, so she went
out to him and he saw how beautiful she was.

The jugi went away and one day he went to beg at the Raja’s
palace and, talking to the Raja, he told him how he had seen a girl of
more than human beauty. The Raja resolved to possess her, and one day
he took the form of a fly and flew to the house and saw the beautiful
bonga; a second day he came back in the same form and suddenly
caught her up and flew off with her on his back to his palace, and in
spite of her weeping shut her up in a beautifully furnished room on the
roof of his palace. There she had to stay and her food was brought to
her there. When the herd boy came home and found that his beautiful
wife was missing he filled the air with lamentations and leaving his
home he put on the garb of a jugi and went about begging. One day he
came to the palace of the Raja who had carried off his wife; as he
begged he heard his wife’s voice, so he sang:—

“Give me, oh give me, my flycatcher wife,

Give me my many-coloured wife.”

Then they offered him a jar full of money to pacify him, but he
threw the rupees away one by one and continued his lament. Then the
Raja called for his two dogs Rauta and Paika and set them on the man
and they tore him to death. At this his wife wept grievously
[113]and begged them to let her out since there was
no one to carry her away, now that her husband was dead.

They prepared to take away the corpse to burn it and the
bonga girl asked to be allowed to go with them as she had never
seen the funeral rites of a jugi: so they let her go.

Before starting she tied a little salt in the corner of her cloth.
When she reached the burning place, she sang to the two
dogs:—

“Build the pyre, Rauta and Paika!

Alas! The dogs have bitten the jugi,

Alas! They have chased and killed the jugi.”

So the two dogs built the pyre and lay the body on it. Then she
ordered them to split more wood, singing:—

“Cut the wood, Rauta and Paika!

Alas! The dogs have bitten the Jugi,

Alas! They have chased and killed the jugi.”

So they split more wood and then she told them to apply the fire,
singing:—

“Light the fire, Rauta and Paika!

Alas! The dogs have bitten the Jugi,

Alas! they have chased and killed the jugi.”

When the pyre was in full blaze she suddenly said to the dogs
“Look up, Rauta and Paika, see the stars are shining in the day
time.” When the two dogs looked up, she threw the salt into their
eyes, and, while they were blinded, she sprang into the flames and died
as a sati on the body of her husband.

[Contents]

XXVIII. The Wife Who Would Not Be Beaten.

There was once a Raja’s son who announced that he would marry
no woman who would not allow him to beat her every morning and evening.
The Raja’s servants hunted high and low in vain for a bride who
[114]would consent to these terms, at long last, they
found a maiden who agreed to be beaten morning and evening if the
prince would marry her. So the wedding took place and for two or three
days the prince hesitated to begin the beating; but one morning he got
up and, taking a stick from the corner, went to his bride and told her
that she must have her beating. “Wait a minute” said she
“there is one thing I want to point out to you before you beat
me. It is only on the strength of your father’s position that you
play the fine gentleman like this: your wealth is all your
father’s and it is on his wealth that you are relying. When you
have earned something for yourself, and made a position for yourself,
then I am willing that you should beat me and not before.”

The prince saw that what his bride said was true and held his hand.
Then, in order to earn wealth for himself, he set out on a trading
expedition, taking quantities of merchandise loaded in sacks; and he
had a large band of retainers with him, mounted on horses and
elephants, and altogether made a fine show. The princess sent one of
her own servants with the prince and gave him secret instructions to
watch his opportunity and if ever, when the prince was bathing, he
should throw away a loin cloth, to take possession of it without the
prince knowing anything about it and bring it to her. The prince
journeyed on till he came to the country called Lutia.

The Raja of Lutia was walking on the roof of his palace and he saw
the cavalcade approaching, and he sent a sipahi to meet the
prince and ask him this question, “Have you the secret of
prosperity for ever or of prosperity for a day?” When this
question was put to the prince he answered that he had the secret of
prosperity for ever. When the Lutia Raja was told of this answer, he
ordered his men to stop the prince’s [115]train; so they surrounded them and seized all
the merchandise and the prince’s retainers fled on their horses
and elephants and left him alone and penniless. In his distress the
prince was forced to take service with a rich Hindu, and he had nothing
to live on but what his master chose to give him, and all he had to
wear was a loin cloth like the poorest labourer.

The only man who did not desert him was the servant whom the
Princess had sent; and one day he saw that the prince had thrown away
an old loin cloth while bathing; this he picked up and took home to his
mistress, who put it away. When she heard all that had happened to her
husband, she set out in her turn to the Lutia country and all she took
with her was a mouse and a shawl. When she reached the Lutia country
the Raja as before sent a messenger to ask whether she knew the secret
of prosperity for ever or of prosperity for a day.

She answered “prosperity for a day.” Thereupon the Raja
had her sent for and also all the retainers who had deserted the Prince
and who had collected together in the neighbourhood. When they had all
come the Raja said that he would now decide who should have all the
wealth which had been taken from the prince: he produced a cat and said
that the person towards whom the cat jumped should have all the wealth.
So they all sat round the Raja and the Princess had her mouse hidden
under her shawl and every now and then she kept uncovering its head and
covering it up again. The cat soon caught sight of the mouse and, when
the Raja let it go, it jumped straight to the Princess in hopes of
catching the mouse. The Raja at once adjudged all the merchandise to
her, and she loaded it on the horses and elephants and took it home
accompanied by her husband’s retainers.

A few days afterwards her husband came home, having got tired of
working as a servant, and, putting a bold [116]face on it, he went
up to her and said that now he was going to beat her; all the retainers
who had accompanied him when he set out to trade and also the servant
whom the princess had sent with him were present. Then, before them
all, the princess took up the old loin cloth and asked him if he knew
to whom it had belonged; at this reminder of his poverty the prince was
dumb with shame. “Ask your retainers” continued the
princess “to whom all the merchandise with which you set out now
rightfully belongs, ask them whether it is yours or mine, and then say
whether you will beat me.”

The prince had no answer to give her and after this lesson gave up
all idea of beating his bride.

[Contents]

XXIX. Sahde Goala.

Once a marriage was arranged between Sahde Goala and Princess
Chandaini and on the wedding day when it began to get dusk Sahde Goala
ordered the sun to stand still. “How,” said he, “can
the people see the wedding of a mighty man like myself in the
dark?” So at his behest the sun delayed its setting for an hour,
and the great crowd which had assembled saw all the grand
ceremonies.

The next day Sahde and his bride set off home and it took them three
days to reach the place where he lived. Before they left they had
invited the princess’s father to come and see them; accordingly a
day or two later he set out, but it took him three months to accomplish
the distance which Sahde Goala had traversed in three days. When the
old Raja reached his son-in-law’s house they welcomed him and
washed his feet and offered him refreshments; and when he had eaten, he
asked his son-in-law to take him out for a stroll. So they went out,
Sahde Goala in front and the old Raja following behind him and as they
walked Sahde Goala struck his foot against a stone, and the stone
[117]was shattered to pieces. When the Raja saw this
proof of his son-in-law’s superhuman strength, he became alarmed
for his daughter’s safety. If Sahde ever lost his temper with her
he might clearly smash her to atoms, so he made up his mind that he
could not leave her in such keeping. When he told his daughter what he
had seen she was as frightened as her father and begged him to take her
home, so they agreed to escape together some time when Sahde Goala was
out of the way.

One morning Sahde Goala went out to watch his men working in the
fields and the old Raja and his daughter seized this opportunity to
escape. Sahde Goala had a sister named Lorokini and she ran to the
field to tell her brother that his wife was running away. “Let
her go” said Sahde Goala. The old Raja travelled faster than his
daughter and left her behind and as she travelled along alone Sahde
Goala made a flooded river flow across her path. It was quite
unfordable so the Princess stood on the bank and sang:—

“My mother gave me birth,

My father gave me in marriage:

If the water upstream would stand still

And the water downstream would flow away

Then I could go and live in my own home.”

But no such thing happened and she had to go back to her
husband’s house.

When she arrived her mother-in-law gave her a large basket of cooked
rice and a pot of relish and told her to take them to the labourers in
the field. Her mother-in-law helped her to lift the basket on to her
head and she set off. When she reached the field she called to her
sister-in-law:—

“Come Lorokini,

Lift down from my head

The basket of rice

And the pot of relish.”

[118]

But Lorokini was angry with her for trying to run away and refused
to help, singing:—

“I will not come

I will not lift down the basket:

Prop it against a murup tree:

I will not lift it down.”

Then Chandaini Rani propped it against the trunk of a murup
tree, and so set it on the ground.

Then she sang to her husband:—

“Here, husband, is the lota of water:

Here, husband, is the tooth stick;

Come, and wash your hands:

If you are angry with me

Take me back to my father and mother.”

But Sahde Goala was ploughing at the head of his men and paid no
attention to her: then she sang again:—

“Seven hundred labourers

And twenty hundred women labourers,

You are causing to die of thirst.”

But still Sahde Goala paid no attention. Then Chandaini Rani got
angry and by leaning the basket against the murup tree managed
to get it on to her head again and carried it home, and from that time
murup trees grow slanting. Directly she had taken the rice and relish
to the house she set off again to run away to her mother. As before
Sahde Goala caused a flooded river to flow across her path and as
before she sang:—

“My mother gave me birth,

My father gave me in marriage:

If the water upstream would stand still

And the water downstream would flow away

Then I could go and live in my own home,”

And this time the water did stand still and the water below all
flowed away and she crossed over. As she crossed she said “If I
am really chaste no one will be [119]able to touch me.” And
as she reached the opposite bank she saw a young man sitting waiting
for her; his name was Bosomunda, he had been sitting waiting for her on
the bank for days without moving. When he saw Chandaini Rani mount the
bank he rose and said “Come: I have been waiting for you, you are
to be my mistress.” “Fie, fie!” answered she
“Am I to belong to any Dome or Hari?” Bosomunda swore that
she should be his. “If so, then follow a little behind me so as
not to tread on my shadow.” So they went on, the Rani in front
and Bosomunda behind. Presently they came to a tamarind tree on which
grew two enormous fruits; the Rani pointed to them saying “If I
am to belong to you, you must pick me those fruits.” So Bosomunda
began to climb the tree, and as he climbed she prayed that the tree
might grow and touch the sky; and in fact as fast as Bosomunda climbed
so the tree grew and he got no nearer to the fruit.

Then the Chandaini Rani picked up the weapons which he had laid on
the ground and threw them away one to the north and one to the south,
one to the east and one to the west, and ran off as fast as she could.
Bosomunda at first did not see her because his eyes were fixed on the
tamarind fruit, but after she had gone a long way he caught sight of
her and came down as fast as he could and, gathering up his weapons,
went in pursuit. But Chandaini Rani had got a long start, and as she
hurried along she passed a thorn tree standing by the side of the road
and she called to it “Thorn tree, Bosomunda is coming after me,
do your best to detain him for a little.” As she spoke it seemed
as if a weight descended on the tree and swayed it to and fro so that
its branches swept the ground, and it answered her “I will do
like this to him.” Then she went on and met a goat on the road,
and she asked it to do its best to delay Bosomunda, and the goat pawed
the ground and dug [120]its horns into the earth and said that it
would do the same to Bosomunda. Then she went on and met a ram and made
the same request; the ram charged a tree and butted it right over and
promised to treat Bosomunda in the same way. Afterwards she came to a
bull and the bull drove its horns into a bank and brought down a
quantity of earth and said that that was the way he would treat
Bosomunda. Next she came to a buffalo and the buffalo charged a bank of
earth to show what he would do to Bosomunda. Then she came to an
elephant and the elephant trampled a clod of earth to dust and said
that he would treat Bosomunda so. Then she went on and saw a paddy bird
feeding by the roadside and she asked it to do its best to delay
Bosomunda; the paddy bird drove its bill into the earth and said that
it would treat Bosomunda in the same way.

Meanwhile Bosomunda was in hot pursuit. When he came to the thorn
tree, the tree swayed its branches and caught him with its thorns, but
he cut down the tree and freed himself; he went on a little way and met
the goat which ran at him with its horns, but Bosomunda
sang:—

“Do not fight with me, goat,

I will cut off your legs and cut off your head

And take them to the shrine of Mahadeo.”

So saying, he killed the goat and cut off its head and tied it to
his waist and went on. Next the ram charged him but he sang:

“Do not fight with me, Ram,

I will cut off your legs and cut off your head

And take them to the shrine of Mahadeo.”

So saying he killed the Ram and took its head. Then in succession he
was attacked by the bull and the buffalo and the elephant, but he
killed them all and cut [121]off their heads. Then he came to
the paddy bird, which pretended to be busily engaged in picking up
insects and gradually worked its way nearer and nearer. Bosomunda let
it get quite close and then suddenly seized it and gave its neck a pull
which lengthened it out considerably; “Thank you” said the
paddy bird, as he put it down “now I shall be able to catch all
the fish in a pool without moving.” Thereupon Bosomunda caught it
again and gave its neck a jerk and that is why paddy birds have necks
shaped like a letter S.

Bosomunda continued his pursuit and caught up Chandaini Rani just as
she was entering her father’s house; he seized her by her hair
and managed to cut off the edge of her cloth and pull off one of her
golden anklets, and then had to let her go.

He took up his abode at the ghat of a tank and began to kill
every one who came down to the water. The citizens complained to the
Raja of the destruction he was causing and the Raja ordered some
valiant man to be searched for, fit to do battle with the murderer; so
they sent for a Birbanta (giant) and the Raja promised to give him half
his kingdom and his daughter in marriage if he could slay Bosomunda. So
the Birbanta made ready for the fight and advanced brandishing his
weapons against Bosomunda. Three days and three nights they fought, and
in the end the Birbanta was defeated and killed.

Then the Raja ordered his subjects to find another champion and a
Birburi was found willing to undertake the fight in hope of the
promised reward; and as he was being taken to the field of battle his
mother met him with a ladle full of curds and told him to do a war
dance, and as he was dancing round she threw the curds at him; he
caught the whole of it on his shield except one drop which fell on his
thigh; from this his mother foresaw that he would bleed to [122]death In the fight, so she took some rice and
ran on ahead and again met her son and told him to do the war dance and
show how he was going to fight; and as he danced his sword shivered to
atoms. His mother said, “Is this the way in which you intended to
fight, of a surety you would have met your death.” Then she made
him gather together the pieces of his sword and cover them with a wet
cloth, and in a few minutes the pieces joined together; then she
allowed him to go to the fight.

When the battle began the Birburi’s mother kept calling out
“Well, Bosomunda, have you killed my son?” This enraged
Bosomunda and he kept running after the old woman to drive her away,
and this gave the opportunity to the Birburi to get in a good blow; in
this way they fought for seven days and nights and at the end Bosomunda
was defeated and killed. Then the Raja gave half his kingdom to the
Birburi and married him to his daughter Chandaini Rani.

After their marriage they set out for their new home and on the way
they met Sahde Goala who had come in search of his missing wife.
“Hulloa” cried Sahde Goala “where are you taking my
wife to?” “I know nothing about your wife” said the
Birburi “this is the Raja’s daughter whom I have married as
a reward for killing Bosomunda; he has given me half his kingdom from
Sir Sikar to the field of the cotton tree.” Then Sahde Goala told
him to go his way, so the Birburi and the Rani went on and Sahde Goala
caused a flooded river with the water flowing bank high to cross their
path. As they waited on the bank Sahde Goala made the Birburi an offer
that, if he could carry the woman across the river without getting the
sole of her foot wet, then she should belong to him and if not Sahde
Goala should take her. The Birburi agreed and tried and tried again to
get the Rani across without wetting her, but the [123]flood was too strong, so at last he gave in and
Sahde Goala took her back with him to their former home. There they
lived and in the course of time Chandaini Rani bore a son and she named
him Dhonontori, and after the birth of their son the family became so
wealthy (dhon) that the Hindus revered Dhonontori as a god. And so ends
the story.

[Contents]

XXX. The Raja’s Son and the Merchant’s Son.

Once upon a time the son of a Raja and the son of a merchant were
great friends; they neither of them had any taste for lessons but would
play truant from school and waste their time running about the town.
The Raja was much vexed at his son’s behaviour; he wished him to
grow up a worthy successor to himself, and with this object did all he
could to break off his friendship with the merchant’s son, as the
two boys only led each other into mischief; but all his efforts failed
and at last he offered a reward of one hundred rupees to any one who
could separate them. One of the Raja’s concubines made up her
mind to earn the reward, and one day she met the two boys as they were
going out to bathe. The Raja’s son was walking ahead and the
merchant’s son a little way behind; the woman ran after the
merchant’s son and threw her arms round him and putting her lips
to his ear pretended to whisper to him and then ran away. When they met
at the river the Prince asked the merchant’s son what the woman
had told him, his friend denied that she had said anything but for all
his protestations the Prince would not believe this. They quarrelled
about it for a long time and at last the Prince went home in a rage and
shut himself up in his room and refused to eat or be comforted. His
father sent to enquire what was the [124]matter with him and
the Prince replied that food should not pass his lips until the
merchant’s son had been put to death.

Thereupon the Raja sent for some soldiers and told them to devise
some means of killing the merchant’s son. So they bound the youth
and showed him to the Prince and said that they would take him to the
jungle and kill and bury him there. They then led him off, but on the
road they caught a lamb and when they got to the jungle they killed the
lamb and steeped the clothes of the merchant’s son in the blood
that they might have something to show to the Prince and then went back
leaving the boy in the jungle. They took the bloody cloth to the Prince
and told him to rise and eat, but when he saw the blood, all his old
friendship revived and he was filled with remorse and could not eat for
sorrow. Then the Raja told his soldiers to find out some friend to
comfort the Prince, and they told him that they would soon set things
straight and going off to the jungle brought back the merchant’s
son and took him to the Prince; and the two youths forgot their
differences and were as friendly as before.

Time passed and one day the Prince proposed to his friend that they
should run away and seek their fortunes in the world. So they fixed a
day and stole away without telling anyone, and, as they had not taken
any money, they soon had to look about for employment. They found work
and the arrangement their masters made with them was this: their wages
were to be as much rice each day as would go on a leaf; and if they
threw up their work they were to forfeit one hand and one ear; on the
other hand if their masters discharged them so long as they were
willing to work for this wage the master was to lose one hand and one
ear. The merchant’s son was cunning enough to turn this agreement
[125]to his advantage, for every day he brought a
large lotus leaf to be filled with rice; this gave him more than he
could eat and he soon grew fat and flourishing, but the Raja’s
son only took an ordinary sal leaf to his master and the rice
that he got on this was not enough to keep him alive, so he soon wasted
away and died.

Now the merchant’s son had told his master that his name was
Ujar: one day his master said “Ujar, go and hoe that sugar cane
and look sharp about it.” So Ujar went and instead of hoeing the
ground dug up all the sugar cane and piled it in a heap. When the
master saw his fine crop destroyed he was very angry and called the
villagers to punish Ujar, but when they questioned him, Ujar protested
that he was bound to obey his master’s orders; he had been
ordered to hoe the sugar cane, not the ground, and he had done as he
was told, and so they had to let him off.

Another day a Hindu neighbour came to Ujar’s master and asked
him to lend him his servant for a day. So Ujar went to the
Hindu’s house and there was told to scrape and spin some hemp,
but Ujar did not understand the Hindu language and when he got the
knife to scrape the hemp with, he proceeded to chop it all up into
little pieces; when the Hindu saw what had happened he was very angry
and called in the neighbours, but Ujar protested that he had been told
to cut the hemp and had done so; and so he got off.

Ujar’s master had an only child and one day he told Ujar to
take the child to a tank and give him a good washing, so Ujar took the
child to a tank and there proceeded to dash the child against a stone
in the way that washermen wash clothes; he knocked the child about
until he knocked the life out of him and then carefully washed him in
the tank and brought the body home and put it on the bed. Next morning
the father was surprised not to hear the child running about and,
[126]going to look, found the dead body. The
villagers assembled but Ujar protested that his master had told him to
wash the child thoroughly and he had only obeyed orders; so they had to
let him off again.

After this the master made up his mind to get rid of Ujar, but he
was in a fix: he could not dismiss him because of the agreement that if
he did not continue to employ him so long as he was willing to serve
for one leaf full of rice a day he was to lose a hand and an ear. So he
decided to kill him, but he was afraid to do so himself for fear of
being found out; so he decided to send Ujar to his
father-in-law’s house and get them to do the job. He wrote a
letter to his father-in-law asking him to kill the bearer directly he
arrived before many people knew of his coming and this letter he gave
to Ujar to deliver.

On the way however Ujar had some misgivings and he opened the letter
and read it; thereupon he tore it in pieces and instead of it wrote a
letter to his master’s father-in-law in which his master was made
to say that Ujar was a most valuable servant and they should give him
their youngest daughter in marriage as soon as possible. The fraud was
not found out and directly Ujar arrived he was married to the youngest
daughter of his master’s father-in-law. A few days later the
master went to see how his plan had worked and was disgusted to find
Ujar not only alive but happily married.

So he thought that he would entice him into the jungle and kill him
there; with this object he one day invited Ujar to come out hunting
with him, but Ujar suspected what was up and took a hatchet with him;
and directly they got to the jungle he fell behind his master and cut
him down with his hatchet and then went home and told his wife’s
relations that his master had got tired of hunting and had gone back
[127]to his own home; no doubts were raised about his
story and he lived on happily with his wife till he died at a ripe old
age.

[Contents]

XXXI. The Poor Widow.

Once there was a poor widow who had two children; she lived by daily
labour and if she got no work any day, then that day they had to go
without food. One morning she went out to look for work and a rich
woman called her and asked if she wanted a job; she said “Yes,
that is what I am looking for,” then the rich woman said
“Stay here and pick the lice out of my hair, and I will pay you
your usual wages and give you your dinner as well.” So the poor
widow agreed and spent the day picking out the lice and at evening the
rich woman brought out a measure of rice to give her as her wages and,
as she was measuring it, she felt her head itch and she put up her hand
and scratched and pulled out a large louse.

Then she got very angry and scolded the widow and said that she
would pay her nothing as she had not done her work properly and she
turned her out. Then the widow was very unhappy for she had nothing to
give her starving children and she wished that she had stuck to her
usual work. When she got home and her children began to cry for food,
she remembered that she had seen some wild saru (vegetable)
growing in a certain place; so she took a basket and a sickle and
telling her children not to cry went out to gather it. It was dark and
lonely and she felt frightened but then she thought of her children and
went on and gathered the saru, and returned home crying because
she had nothing better to give her offspring. On the way she met an old
man who asked her why she was crying and she told him all her story.
Then he told her to take the [128]herbs home and chop them all up
and to put some in every basket and pot she had and to cook the rest
for supper. So when she got home she did as she had been directed and
when she came to take the herbs which she had cooked out of the pot,
she found that they had turned into rice, and she and her children ate
it with joy. The next morning she found that every pot and basket into
which she had put the herbs was full of rice; and from that time she
prospered and bought goats and pigs and cattle and lived happily ever
after.

But no one knew where the old man came from, as she had forgotten to
ask him.

[Contents]

XXXII. The Monkey and the Girl.

Once upon a time the boys and girls of a village used to watch the
crops of but growing by a river, and there was a Hanuman monkey
who wished to eat the but, but they drove him away. So he made a
plan: he used to make a garland of flowers and go with it to the field
and, when he was driven away, he would leave the flowers behind; and
the children were pleased with the flowers and ended by making friends
with the monkey and did not drive him away. There was one of the young
girls who was fascinated by the monkey and promised to marry him. Some
of the other children told this in the village and the girl’s
father and mother came to hear of it and were angry and the father took
some of the villagers and went and shot the monkey. Then they decided
not to throw away the body, but to burn it like the corpse of a man. So
they made a pyre and put the body on it and set fire to it; just then
the girl came and they told her to go away, but she said that she
wished to see whether they really burned him like a man. So she stood
by and when the pyre was in full blaze, she called out “Oh look,
what is happening [129]to the stars in the sky!” at this
every one looked up at the sky; then she took some sand which she had
in the fold of her cloth and threw it into the air and it fell into
their eyes and blinded them.

While they were rubbing the sand out of their eyes the girl leapt on
to the pyre, and was burned along with the monkey and died a
sati. Her father and brothers were very angry at this and said
that the girl must have had a monkey’s soul and so she was
fascinated by him; and so saying they bathed and went home.

[Contents]

XXXIII. Ramai and the Animals.

Once there was a blacksmith who had five sons and the sons were
always quarrelling. Their father used to scold them, but they paid no
heed; so he got angry and one day he sent for them and said: “You
waste your time quarrelling. I have brought you up and have amassed
wealth; I should like to see what you are worth. I will put it to the
test: I will give you each one hundred rupees, and I will see how you
employ the money; if any of you puts it to profitable use, I will call
him my son; but if any of you squander it, I shall call him a
girl.” So they went forth with the money and one bought buffaloes
and one bought horses and another cattle, each according to his
judgement, and brought them home. But the youngest son, who was named
Ramai, soon after he started, found some men killing a cat and he
begged them not to kill the cat, but let him have it and he bought it
of them, and going on he found some men killing a dog which they had
caught stealing and he bought it of them to save its life. By and bye
he came to some men hunting an otter and he asked what they were doing,
and they said that the otter ate the fish in a Raja’s tank and so
they were going to kill it; and he asked them to catch [130]it
and sell it to him, and promised to take it away where it could do no
harm; and they did so. Then he went on and came to some men who were
killing a young black snake and he saved that also, and then returned
home with his four animals, and he tethered the cat and the dog and the
otter in the yard and he put the snake into a pot with a lid on and
hung it in the cow shed.

When his father saw Ramai’s animals, he was very angry and
jeered at him and said that he had no more mind than a woman; and
especially he told him to throw away the snake at once, if he did not
want it killed. So Ramai took down the pot with the snake in it, and
the snake said: “Take me to my father and mother and they will
reward you, and when they ask what you would like, take nothing but the
ring which is on my father’s hand: it is a magic ring and has the
property that it will give you whatever you ask.”

So Ramai took the young snake to its home and its father and mother
were very grateful and asked what reward he would accept: and he said
he would take nothing but the ring, so they gave it to him. On the way
home he thought that he would test its virtues: so he bathed and spread
out a cloth and then prayed: “Oh ring, give me some
luncheon,” and behold he saw a nice lunch heaped up in the middle
of the cloth. He ate it joyfully and went back home, and there he found
that his father had killed the other animals and he reproached him; but
his father said: “They were useless and were only eating their
heads off, why should not I kill them?” Ramai answered:
“These were not useless, they were most valuable animals, much
better than those my brothers bought; if you asked my brothers for a
gold palace they could not make you one, but I could do so at once,
thanks to the snake, and I could marry a princess and get anything else
I want.” [131]

His father said that he would like to see him try: so Ramai asked
the ring for a gold palace and immediately one appeared in their
garden. Then his father was very repentant about having killed the
other animals. But Ramai’s boast that he could marry a princess
got abroad and the Raja heard of it and as he was glad to have so rich
a son-in-law, he gave him his daughter in marriage. And with his
daughter the Raja sent elephants and horses, but Ramai sent them back
again, lest it should be said that he had become rich through the
bounty of the Raja; and by virtue of the ring they lived in wealthy and
prosperity.

[Contents]

XXXIV. The Magic Bedstead.

Once upon a time a carpenter made a bedstead, and when it was ready
he put it in his verandah. At night he heard the four legs of the
bedstead talking together and saying: “We will save the life of
anyone who sleeps on this bedstead and protect him from his
enemies.” When the carpenter heard this, he decided not to part
with the bed for less than a hundred rupees. So next day he went out to
try and get this price for the bed, but people laughed at him and said
that no one could pay such a price but the Raja; so he went to the Raja
and the Raja asked why he wanted one hundred rupees for a bedstead that
was apparently worth only five or six annas. The carpenter answered
that the bed would protect its owner from all enemies; the Raja doubted
at first but as the man persisted in his story, he agreed to buy the
bed, but he stipulated that if he found the story about it not to be
true, he should take back his money.

One night the king lay awake on the bed and he heard the legs of the
bed talking, so he lay still and listened: and they said that the Raja
was in danger and that they [132]must try to save him. So one leg
loosened itself from the bed and went away outside and it found a tiger
which had come to eat the Raja, and it beat the tiger to death, and
then came back and fixed itself into its place again. Soon a second leg
said that it would go outside; so it went and that leg met a leopard
and a bear and it beat them to death and returned. Then the third leg
said that it was its turn, and it went outside and it found four
burglars digging a hole through the wall of the palace, and it set upon
them and broke their legs and left them lying there. When this one
returned, the fourth leg went out and it heard a voice in the sky
saying: “The Raja is very cunning, I will send a snake which
shall hide in his shoe and when he puts the shoe on in the morning, it
will bite him and he will die.” When this leg came back, each one
told the others what it had seen and done, and the Raja heard them and
lay awake till morning, and at dawn he called his servants and sent
them outside the palace and there they found the tiger and leopard and
bear lying dead, and the four thieves with their legs broken. Then the
Raja believed what the legs had said and he would not get up but first
ordered his servants to make a fire in the courtyard and he had all his
shoes thrown into the fire and then he got up.

After this the Raja ordered that great care was to be taken of the
bedstead and that anyone who sat on it should be put to death; and he
himself used not to sleep in it anymore but he kept it in his bedroom
that it might protect him.

[Contents]

XXXV. The Ghormuhas.

Ghormuhas have heads like horses and bodies and arms like men and
their legs are shaped like men’s but they have only one leg each,
and they eat human beings. [133]

One day a young man named Somai was hunting a deer and the deer ran
away to the country of the Ghormuhas and Somai pursued it, and the
Ghormuhas caught him and took him home to eat. First they smoked him
for two or three days so that all the vermin were driven out of his
body and clothes and then they proceeded to fatten him; they fed him
well every day on rice cooked with turmeric.

Somai saw how they dealt with their other victims: they tied them
hand and foot and threw them alive into a pot of boiling oil and when
they were cooked they hung the bodies up in the doorway and would take
a bite as they passed in and out; the liver and heart and brains they
cooked separately. They used to eat their own parents also: for when a
father or mother grew old they would throw them on to the roof of the
house and when they rolled down and were killed they would say to their
friends, “The pumpkin growing on our roof has got ripe and fallen
off and burst, let us come and eat it;” and then they had a
feast.

Somai saw all this and was very frightened. The Ghormuhas could run
very fast and they made Somai run a race with them every day and their
plan was that they would eat him when he was strong enough to beat them
in the race. In the course of time he came to beat them in running on
the road; then they said that they would make him run in the fields
and, if he beat them there, they meant to eat him.

Somai found out their plan and he decided to try and run away; if he
stayed he would be eaten, so if they caught him when he tried to run
away he would be no worse off. So the first day they raced in the
fields Somai was winning but he remembered and stopped himself and let
himself be beaten that day. But he resolved to try and escape the next
day and the Ghorarahas had decided to eat him that day whatever
happened. So when the [134]race began, Somai set off towards
the lower lands where the rice fields were embanked and he jumped the
embankments, but the Ghormuhas who pursued him could not jump well and
tumbled and fell; and thus he ran away to his own country and made good
his escape. And it was he who told men what Ghormuhas are like and how
they live.

[Contents]

XXXVI. The Boy Who Learnt Magic.

Once upon a time there was a Raja who had seven wives and they were
all childless, and he was very unhappy at having no heir. One day a
Jogi came to the palace begging, and the Raja and his Ranis asked him
whether he could say what should be done in order that they might have
children; the Jogi asked what they would give him if he told them and
they said that they would give him anything that he asked for and gave
him a written bond to this effect. Then the Jogi said “I will not
take elephants or horses or money, but you shall give me the child
which is born first and any born afterwards shall be yours, do you
agree?” And the Ranis consulted together and agreed.
“Then,” said the Jogi, “this is what you must do: you
must all go and bathe, and after bathing you must go to a mango orchard
and the Raja must choose a bunch of seven mangoes and knock it down
with his left hand and catch it in a cloth, without letting it touch
the ground; then you must go home and the Ranis must sit in a row
according to their seniority and the Raja must give them each one of
the mangoes to eat, and he must himself eat the rinds which the Ranis
throw away; and then you will have children.” And so saying the
Jogi went away promising to return the next year.

A few days later the Raja decided to give a trial to the
Jogi’s prescription and he and the Ranis did as they [135]had
been told; but the Raja did not eat the rind of the youngest
Rani’s mango; he did not love her very much. However five or six
months after it was seen that the youngest Rani was with child and then
she became the Raja’s favourite; but the other Ranis were jealous
of her and reminded the Raja that he would not be able to keep her
child. But when her time was full she gave birth to twin sons, and the
Raja was delighted to think that he would be able to keep the younger
of the two and he loved it much.

When the year was up the Jogi came and saw the boys and he said that
he would return when they could walk; and when they could run about, he
came again, and asked whether the Raja would fulfil his promise.

The Raja said that he would not break his bond. Then the Jogi said
that he would take the two boys and when the Raja objected that he was
only entitled to one, he said that he claimed both as they were born at
the same time; but he promised that if he took both he would teach them
magic and then let one come back; and he promised also that all the
Ranis should have children. So the Raja agreed and sent away the boys
with the Jogi and with them he sent goats and sheep and donkeys and
horses and camels and elephants and furniture of all sorts.

The Jogi was called Sitari Jogi and he was a Raja in his own
country. But before they reached his country all the animals died,
first the goats, then the sheep and the donkeys and the horses and the
camels and the elephants. And when the goats died the boys
lamented:

“The goats have died, father,

How far, father,

Is it to the country of the Sitari Jogi?”

and so they sang when the other animals died.

At last they reached the Jogi’s palace and every day
[136]he taught them incantations and spells. He
bought them each a water pot and sent them every morning to fill it
with dew, but before they collected enough, the sun came out and dried
up the dew; one day they got a cupful, another day half a cupful, but
they never were able to fill the pots. In the course of time they
learnt all the spells the Jogi knew and one day when they went out to
gather dew, the younger boy secretly took with him a rag and he soaked
this in the dew and then squeezed it into the pot and so he soon filled
it; and the elder boy seeing his brother’s pot full, filled his
pot at a pool of water and they took them to the Jogi; but the Jogi was
not deceived by the elder boy and told him that he would never learn
magic thoroughly; but the younger boy having learned all that the Jogi
knew, learnt more still from his friends, for all the people of that
country knew magic.

Then one day the Jogi took the two boys back to their home and he
told the Raja that he would leave the elder boy at home. The Raja
wanted to keep the younger one, but the Jogi insisted and the younger
boy whispered to his mother not to mind as he would soon come back by
himself; so they let him go.

The Jogi and the boy used to practise magic: the Jogi would take the
form of a young man and the boy would turn into a bullock and the Jogi
would go to a village and sell the bullock for a good price; but he
would not give up the tethering rope and then he would go away and do
something with the tethering rope and the boy would resume his shape
again and run off to the Jogi and when the purchasers looked for their
bullock they found nothing, and when they went to look for the seller
the Jogi would change his shape again so that he could not be
recognised; and in this way they deceived many people and amassed
wealth.

Then the Jogi taught the boy the spell he used with [137]the
rope, and when he had learnt this, he asked to be taught the spell by
which he could change his own shape without having a second person to
work the spell with the rope. The Jogi said that he would teach him
that later but he must wait. Then the boy reproached the Jogi and said
that he did not love him; and he went away to his friends in the town
and learnt the spell he wanted from them, so that he was able to change
his shape at will.

Two or three days after the boy again went to the Jogi and said
“Teach me the spell about which I spoke to you the other
day,” and the Jogi refused. “Then,” said the boy,
“I shall go back to my father, for I see that you do not love
me.”

At this the Jogi grew wrathful and said that if the away he would
kill him, so the boy at this ran away in terror, and the Jogi became a
leopard and pursued him: then the boy turned himself into a pigeon and
the Jogi became a hawk and pursued him; so the boy turned himself into
a fly and the Jogi became a paddy bird and pursued him; the fly
alighted on the plate of a Rani who was eating rice, and the Jogi took
on his natural shape and told the Rani to scatter the rice which she
was eating on the ground and she did so; but the boy turned himself
into a bead of coral on the necklace which the Rani was wearing; and
the Jogi did not notice this but became a pigeon and ate up the rice
which the Rani had thrown down. When he did not find the boy among the
rice he turned himself into a Jogi again and saw him in the necklace;
then he told the Rani to break her necklace and scatter the beads on
the ground and she did so; then the Jogi again became a pigeon and
began to pick up the beads, but the boy turned himself into a cat and
hid under the verandah and when the pigeon came near, he pounced on it
and killed it, and ran outside with it. Then he [138]became a boy again and twisted off the
bird’s head and wrapped it in his cloth and went off home; and
looking behind he saw the Jogi’s head come rolling after him, so
when he came to a blacksmith’s fire by the side of the road he
threw the pigeon’s head into it, and then the Jogi’s head
also ran into the fire and was consumed.

And the boy went home to his parents.

[Contents]

XXXVII. The Charitable Jogi.

Once there was a very poor man with a large family; and when his
eldest son grew up he tried to arrange a marriage for him. He selected
a bride and arranged matters with her relations but then he found that
he had no money to pay for the performance of the marriage ceremonies.
So he tried to borrow from his friends and from money lenders, but no
one would lend him anything. So he proposed to the bride’s
relatives to only have the betrothal that year and the marriage the
year after, but they would not agree and said that the marriage must be
then or never.

Just then a Jogi came to his house to beg and he told the Jogi all
about his difficulties and asked for help; the Jogi took pity on him
and gave him twenty rupees which was all that he had collected by
begging.

Now this Jogi had two wives at home and he thought that he would get
a poor reception from them if he returned empty handed, so he picked up
two stones and wrapped them up in two pieces of cloth. And when he
reached home his wives welcomed him and brought out a bed for him to
sit on and asked about his adventures and when they saw the bundles
they wished to know what was inside and they opened them before him and
behold the stones had turned into gold. When the Jogi saw this he
wished that he had picked up three or four stones instead of only two
and he understood that [139]Chando had given him the gold
because he helped the poor man.

This is why no money lender will refuse a loan if one is asked for
for the performance of a marriage and money so borrowed is always paid
back punctually. When the Jogi came back the next year the poor man
paid him the twenty rupees.

[Contents]

XXXVIII. Chote and Mote.

Once upon a time there were two brothers Chote and Mote; they were
poor but very industrious and they got tired of working as hired
labourers in their own village so they decided to try their luck
elsewhere. They went to a distant village and Chote took service with
an oilman and Mote with a potter on a yearly agreement. Chote had to
drive the oil mill in the morning and then after having his dinner to
feed the mill bullock and take it out to graze. But the bullock having
had a good meal of oilcake would not settle down to graze alone but
kept running after all the herds of cattle it saw, and Chote had to
spend his whole time running after it till he was worn out and he was
very soon sorry that he had taken up such hard service; and was quite
resolved not to stay on after his year was up.

Mote was no better off; the potter overworked him, making him carry
water and dig earth from morn to night and for all he did he got
nothing but abuse.

One day the brothers, met and Mote asked Chote how he was getting
on. Chote answered “Oh I have got a capital place; all the
morning I sit at my ease on the oil mill, then I have a good dinner and
take the bullock out to graze and as it has had a good meal of oilcake
it lies down without giving any trouble and I sit in the shade and
enjoy myself.” Then Mote [140]said “I am pretty lucky
too. I have to fetch three or four pots of water, then I have my dinner
and a rest and then I have to dig earth and knead it. Still I cannot
say that I have so little work as you; will you change with me for
three or four days, so that I may have a rest?”

Chote gladly agreed and each brother thought that he had got the
better of the other. In the morning while Mote was driving the oil mill
he was very pleased with his new job and when he had to take the
bullock out to graze he took a bedstead with him to lie on. But
directly the bullock got outside the village it rushed off bellowing
towards some other cattle and Mote had to run after it with his
bedstead on his head, and all the afternoon the bullock kept him
running about till he was worn out.

Meanwhile Chote was no better off; his unaccustomed shoulders were
quite bruised with constantly carrying water. At the potter’s
house was a custard apple tree and it was believed that there was money
buried at the foot of the tree; so as Chote was a stranger, the potter
told him to water the earth by the tree to soften it, as it was to be
used for pottery. Chote softened the earth and dug it and as he dug he
uncovered pots of rupees; so he covered them up again and dug the earth
elsewhere. And at evening he went and proposed to Mote to run away with
the money. So at midnight, they went and dug it up and ran off home. As
they were not pursued, they felt safe after a month or two, so they
spent the money in buying land and cattle, and their cultivation
prospered, and they became quickly rich.

[Contents]

XXXIX. The Daydreamer.

Once an oil man was going to market with his pots of oil arranged on
a flat basket and he engaged a [141]Santal for two annas to carry
the basket; and as he went along, the Santal thought “With one
anna I will buy food and with the other I will buy chickens, and the
chickens will grow up and multiply and then I will sell some of the
fowls and eggs and with the money I will buy goats; and when the goats
increase, I will sell some and buy cows, and then I will exchange some
of the calves for she-buffaloes, and when the buffaloes breed, I will
sell some and buy land and start cultivation and then I will marry and
have children and I will hurry back from my work in the fields and my
wife will bring me water and I will have a rest and my children will
say to me ‘Father, be quick and wash your hands for
dinner,’ but I will shake my head and say ‘No, no, not
yet!’”—and as he thought about it he really shook his
head and the basket fell to the ground and all the pots of oil were
smashed.

Then the oilman abused him and said that he must pay two rupees for
the oil and one anna for the pots: but the Santal said that he had lost
much more than that and the oilman asked him how that could be: and the
Santal explained how with his wages he was going to get fowls and then
goats and then oxen and buffaloes and land and how he came to spill the
basket and at that the oilman roared with laughter and said “Well
I have made up the account and I find that our losses are equal, so we
will cry quits;” and so saying they went their ways laughing.

[Contents]

XL. The Extortionate Sentry.

There was once a sentry outside a Raja’s palace who would let
no one go in to sell anything to the Raja until they first promised to
give him half the price they received from the Raja, and the poor
traders had to promise, for their livelihood depended on selling their
[142]goods. One day a fisherman caught an enormous
fish and he thought that if he took it to the Raja he would get a big
price for it.

So he went off to the palace, but when he came to the gate the
sentry stopped him and would not let him go in, until he promised to
give him half of what he got, and after some argument he had to
promise. So he was admitted to the Raja’s presence and when the
Raja asked what was the price of the fish, the fisherman said “A
hundred blows with a stick.”

The Raja was very astonished and asked the meaning of such a
request. Then the fisherman said that the sentry had extorted a promise
that he should get half the price and he wanted him to get fifty blows.
At this the Raja was very angry and he had the sentry beaten with one
hundred stripes and dismissed him.

[Contents]

XLI. The Broken Friendship.

Once upon a time there was a Raja and his Dewan and they each had
one son, and the two boys were great friends, and, when they grew old
enough, they took to hunting and when they became young men they were
so devoted to the sport that they spent their whole time in pursuit of
game; they followed every animal they could find until they killed it,
and they shot every bird in the town.

Their parents were much distressed at this, for they thought that if
their boys spent all their time together hunting they would grow up
unruly and ignorant; so they made up their minds that they must
separate the young men so that they would not be tempted to spend so
much time in sport, but would be able to learn something useful; they
scolded the youths and told them to give up their friendship and their
hunting, but this had no effect. Then the Raja told the villagers that
[143]he would reward any one who would break up the
friendship, and the villagers tried their best but effected
nothing.

There was however an old woman in the village who one day said,
“If the Raja gave me ten rupees I would soon put a stop to their
friendship.” This came to the ears of the Raja and he exclaimed
“What is ten rupees to me! bring the old woman to me and I will
give her ten rupees, if she can put an end to this friendship.”
So the old woman was brought trembling before the Raja and on being
questioned undertook to break up the friendship if she were properly
rewarded; and when this was promised she asked for two men to be given
to her and she took them to her house and there she made them sling a
bed on a pole, such as is used for carrying a man on a journey and she
hung curtains all round it and drew them close and inside, on an old
winnowing fan, they put some rotten manure from a dung hill.

Then she made the two men take up the bed and she fetched a drum and
she paraded all through the bazar beating the drum with the bed
following behind her. She told the two carriers not to answer any
questions as to what was in the bed. Thus they passed out of the town
and went in the direction in which the two young men had gone hunting.
When these heard the sound of the drum and saw the two men carrying the
bed they ran up to see what it was and told the carriers to put It down
that they might look inside; so the bed was put on the ground and the
Raja’s son peeped inside the curtain, but as he caught the smell
he jumped back and the Dewan’s son asked what was the matter and
he said “it stinks: it is dung.” The Dewan’s son
would not believe him and also looked to convince himself; then they
both asked what the meaning of this was: the old woman said that she
would explain the meaning of [144]it but only to one of them, and
the one who had heard could tell the other.

So she made the carriers take away the bed and she called the
Raja’s son aside saying “Come I will tell you what it
means” then she put her arms round the neck of the Raja’s
son and put her lips to his ear and pretended to whisper to him, but
really she said nothing; then she let him go and followed the carriers.
The Dewan’s son at once ran to his friend and asked what the old
woman had told him; the Raja’s son answered “She told me
nothing at all, she only pretended to whisper.” The Dewan’s
son would not believe this and pressed him to tell, saying “We
have been friends for so long and have had no secrets from each other,
why won’t you tell me this? if you refuse to tell me there is an
end of our friendship,” but the Raja’s son persisted that
he had been told nothing and proposed that they should go and ask the
old woman if it were not so; but the Dewan’s son said that that
was no good because the old woman and the Raja’s son had plainly
made a plot to keep him in the dark. The quarrel grew hotter and hotter, till at last they
parted in anger and each went to his own home and from that time their
friendship was broken off.

And being separated they gave up hunting and took to useful
pursuits. Thus the old woman earned her reward from the Raja.

[Contents]

XLII. A Story Told by a Hindu.

Once upon a time there was a Raja who had two sons and after their
father’s death they divided the kingdom between them. The two
brothers were inveterate gamblers and spent their time playing cards
with each other; for a long time fortune was equal, but one day it
turned against the elder brother and he lost and [145]lost
until his money and his jewellery, his horses and his elephants and
every thing that he had, had been won by his younger brother. Then in
desperation he staked his share in the kingdom and that too he
lost.

Then the younger brother sent drummers through the city to proclaim
that the whole kingdom was his; the shame of this was more than the
elder prince could bear, so he resolved to quit the country and he told
his wife of his intention and bade her stay behind. But his faithful
wife refused to be parted from him; she vowed that he had married her
not for one day nor for two but for good and all, and that where he
went, there she would go, and whatever troubles he met, she would
share. So he allowed her to come with him and the two set off to
foreign parts. After sometime their path led them through an extensive
jungle and after travelling through it for two days they at last lost
their way completely; their food gave out, they were faint with
starvation and torn with briars.

The prince urged his wife to return but she would not hear of it, so
they pushed on, supporting life on jungle fruits; sometimes the prince
would go far ahead, for his faithful wife could only travel slowly, and
then he would return and wait for her; at last he got tired of leading
her on and made up his mind to abandon her. At night they lay down at
the foot of a tree and the prince thought “If wild animals would
come and eat us it would be the best that could happen. I cannot bear
to see my wife suffer any more; although her flesh is torn with thorns,
she will not leave me. I will leave her here; may wild beasts kill both
her and me, but I cannot see her die before my eyes.” So thinking
he got up quietly and went off as quickly as he could.

When the princess woke and found that she had been abandoned, she
began to weep and wept from dawn to noon without ceasing; at noon a
being, in the guise of [146]an old woman appeared and asked
her why she wept, and comforted her and promised to lead her out of the
wood and told her that Chando had had compassion on her and would allow
her to find her husband again if they both lived.

So saying the old woman led the princess from the forest and showed
her the way to a great city where a Raja lived. The princess went
begging her way through the city to the Raja’s palace and there
they engaged her as a servant.

Now her husband had also escaped from the jungle and sought
employment as a labourer but no one would give him work for more than a
day or two, and at last his search for work brought him to the city in
which the princess was; and there he was engaged as a groom in the
palace stables. The prince had changed his name and he had no chance of
knowing that his wife was in the palace, because she was confined to
the women’s apartments; so some years passed without their having
news of each other.

At last one day the princess happened to go on to the roof and
looking down at the stables saw and thought she recognised her husband;
then she leaned over and listened till she heard his voice and at that
she was sure that it was he, so she hastened to the Raja and begged to
be allowed to meet her husband, and the Raja sent to call the syce with
the name which the princess had given but no one came, for the prince
would not reveal himself. Then the princess told their story and how
her husband had gambled away his half of the kingdom. The Raja ordered
any one with such a history to come forward, as his wife was in the
palace; but the prince did not reveal himself.

Then the princess said “Let all the syces cook rice and bring
me a bit of each man’s cooking to taste.” They did so, and
when she tasted the rice cooked by [147]her husband, she at once said
that it was his; her husband was unable to deny it and admitted
everything. Then they took him away from his work in the stables and
let him live with his wife.

After a time the Raja wrote to the younger brother asking whether he
would restore the half of the kingdom which he had won; and the younger
brother answered that he would gladly do so, if his brother would sign
an agreement never to gamble any more; it was with this object in view
and to teach him the folly of his ways that he had dispossessed him.
The elder brother gladly gave the required promise and returned to his
kingdom with his faithful wife and lived happily ever afterwards.

[Contents]

XLIII. The Raibar and the Leopard.

Once upon a time a Raibar was going backwards and forwards
between two families arranging a marriage and part of the road which he
used to travel ran through a forest.

One day as he was going to the bride’s house he took a sack
with him intending to try and get the loan of some Indian corn from the
bride’s relations; but as he was passing through the piece of
jungle he suddenly met a leopard; he was terribly frightened but
collecting his wits he addressed the animal thus “Leopard; I beg
you not to eat me; I am engaged on a work of great merit, I am making
two men out of one.” This address amazed the leopard and he at
once asked the raibar whether he could make him into two, and
promised that if he could his life should be spared. The raibar
answered readily “Seeing that in pursuit of my profession I have
made two men out of one all over the country, of course I can make you
into two leopards if I try; all you have to do is to get into
[148]this sack and keep quiet; if you utter a sound
you will spoil the charm.”

“Well,” said the leopard, “I will try and see; I
undertake to keep quite quiet, and if you are successful I promise to
tell the whole race of leopards to spare the lives of
raibars.” So saying the leopard jumped into the sack and
allowed the man to tie him up tightly in it. No sooner was this done
than the raibar took the sack on his head and carried it to the
bank of a river and having given it two or three hearty whacks with his
stick threw it into the water. The sack went floating down the stream
and it happened that lower down a leopardess sat watching the water and
when she saw the sack coming along she thought that it was a dead cow
floating down. So when it came near she jumped into the water and
pulled it ashore.

She then proceeded to tear open the sack, when out jumped the first
leopard; he soon explained how he came to be in the sack, and declared
that the raibar’s promise had been fulfilled and that she
was his destined mate. The leopardess agreed and the two set to work to
tell all the other leopards what had happened and what a kindness the
raibar had done them; and so it came to pass that to the present
day leopards never interfere with raibars when they are going
about arranging a marriage; no one ever heard of one being injured.

Meanwhile the raibar went on his way rejoicing at having rid
himself of the leopard. But the next year, while engaged on the
business of another marriage, the raibar was passing through the
same jungle when he came face to face with the very leopard that he
thought he had safely disposed of; he at once took to his heels, but
the leopard called out to him not to be afraid and to wait, as he had
something to say to him. So the raibar stopped and the leopard
asked whether he did not recognise him; the raibar stoutly
denied all knowledge [149]of him. “Well,” said the
leopard “I am the leopard of whom you made two out of one, and to
show my gratitude I will give you any reward you like; would you like a
cow or a deer or any other animal? I will kill you one and bring it to
you.”

When the raibar saw the turn that things had taken he thought
that he had better take advantage of it, so he asked for a good large
nilgai. The leopard told him to come to a certain tree at noon the next
day and he would find the animal there. So they separated and the next
day at noon the raibar went to the tree and found a fine nilgai
waiting for him, which he and his friends took home and ate with
joy.

[Contents]

XLIV. The Ungrateful Snake.

There was once a Raja and his dewan and they each had one son; these
sons were married in infancy but as they grew up they never heard
anything about their having been married. When the boys reached manhood
and found no arrangements being made for their weddings they began to
wonder at the delay and often talked about it, and in the end they
agreed to run away to another country. Soon after this resolve of
theirs some horse dealers came to their home with horses to sell; the
two youths at once saw that if they could each have a horse and learn
to ride it, it would be easy for them to run away from home. So they
hurried to their fathers and begged them to buy them each one of the
beautiful horses which the dealers had brought. The Raja and the dewan
did not like to disappoint their sons so they bought the horses, to the
great delight of the boys, who used to ride them every day.

One day the Raja’s son was out riding by himself and he passed
by a tank where a number of women and girls were bathing and drawing
water; as he came [150]galloping along the women ran back in a
fright; and as they could not draw their water while he was there, an
old woman came up to him and told him to go away and not stay making
eyes at the girls as if he had no wife of his own: “What wife
have I?”, said the prince, “I know nothing of having been
married.” “You were married sure enough when you were an
infant,” replied the old woman: “your wife is still in her
father’s house, but now that you have grown up they will probably
bring her home to you this year.”

Then the prince asked where his wife lived and having learnt the
name of the village he galloped off home and at once began to question
his mother about his marriage; his mother told him that they intended
to have the bride brought home that year, but the prince was impatient
and proposed that he should go off at once to his father-in-law’s
and see his wife, and try to persuade them to let her come back with
him without any ceremony; his mother made no objection, so he got ready
for the journey and started off on horseback. He had not gone far when
he saw a field of thatching grass on fire, and in the middle,
surrounded by the flames, was a huge poisonous snake, unable to
escape.

As the prince rode by, the snake called out to him “Prince,
you are going joyously to bring home your bride, and here am I in
danger of being burned alive; will you not have pity on me and save me?
If you do I will confer a boon on you.” “But if I save
you,” objected the prince, “you will only eat me: snakes do
not know what gratitude is.” “I am not of that kind,”
answered the snake: “here I am in danger of death, I beseech you
to have pity on me.” These pleadings prevailed and the prince got
off his horse and beat out the fire and then spread a cloth over the
embers so that the snake could crawl out. When the snake was safe the
prince asked for the boon that had been promised [151]him:
“No boon will you get” said the snake: “you did a
foolhardy thing in saving me, for now I am going to eat you, and you
cannot escape from me.”

The prince saw that there was little hope for him but he begged the
snake to allow two or three judges to decide whether it was fair that
he should be killed, after what he had done. The snake agreed to this
provided that the judges were not human beings; he was willing to be
bound by the opinions of any one else.

They set out together to look for judges and soon saw a herd of
cattle resting under a banyan tree by a pool of water, so they agreed
to make these their judges; then the prince explained to one of the
cows and the banyan tree and the water what they were to decide,
whether it was fair for the snake, whose life he had saved, now to want
to kill him. The banyan tree was the first to answer: it said
“You did good to the snake and your wages for doing good are
evil; you saved his life and he will now kill you, this is fair, this
is the justice we have learnt from human beings; you enjoy the shade of
us trees and in return you lop off our branches and sit on them, and do
us all manner of injury; it is right that the snake should eat
you.”

Then the prince turned to the cow: “He may eat you,”
answered the cow: “the tree is right, see how men treat cattle;
you drive away our calves from us and take our milk and you beat us and
make us work hard; for all this ill treatment the snake shall eat
you.”

Then the prince asked the water what it had to say: “I agree
with the other two” said the water: “to return evil for
good is the justice of mankind, it is by drinking water that your very
lives are preserved; yet you spit into it and wash dirty things in it;
shall not the snake return you evil for good?” So judgment was
delivered, and the snake wanted to eat the prince; but the prince asked
the tree and the cow and the [152]water to listen while he made one
prayer; he told them how he had been married when he was too young to
know anything about it, and how he was going for the first time to see
his wife, when this misfortune befell him; so he begged that he might
be allowed to go and see his bride and then be eaten on his way back;
the banyan tree asked what the snake thought about this proposal and
the snake said that it would make no objection if the tree and the cow
and the water would be sureties for the return of the prince within
three days. So the prince promised them faithfully that he would return
and they let him go.

The prince rode on to his father-in-law’s house, and when he
arrived, a bed was brought out for him to sit on and he was asked where
he came from. When he explained who he was, they at once brought water
and washed his feet and then gave him oil and a tooth stick and took
him to bathe; then they brought him curds and dried rice to eat and
afterwards killed a goat and made a feast and showed him every
honour.

That evening as his wife was rubbing his arms and legs, the prince
remained silent and downcast and showed none of the joy of a
bridegroom; and when his bride asked what was the matter, he told her
that he had only come to see her for one day and that afterwards she
must try and forget all about him. At first he would not tell her more,
but when she urged him, he told her how he had to go and surrender
himself to the snake on the next day. When she heard this she vowed
that she would go with him and die with him.

The next morning came and the prince said that he must return, and
his wife said that she was going with him; so they made everything
ready and set out on their way. When they came within sight of the
banyan tree where the prince was to be killed, he tried to turn his
wife back but though he used force she refused to [153]leave him and said that she would first see him
killed and then go home; so at last he let her accompany him.

When they reached the tree she asked to be allowed to go in front
and be the first to meet the snake; to this the prince assented. They
had not gone far when they saw the snake awaiting them in the path with
its crest raised, and when they drew near, the prince’s bride
begged the snake to eat her first, as she had nowhere to live if she
survived her husband. The snake refused and bade her go home to her
parents; she said that that was impossible; they had sold her and the
prince had bought her, in life and in death, bones and ashes. But the
snake would not listen and made for the prince to eat him. His wife
however kept in front of the snake and would not let it pass; she
called the banyan tree to witness that the snake should not eat her
husband without first killing her; without her husband she would have
no one to support her.

Then the snake promised to teach her an incantation by means of
which she could support herself, so saying, the snake conferred some
magic power upon and taught her an incantation; and promised her that
if she took some dust in her hand and repeated the incantation and then
blew on the dust, any person on whom she sprinkled the dust would at
once be burnt to ashes. Then the prince’s wife asked how she
should restore the people to life and the snake taught her that also,
but she was not satisfied and said that she must try at once to see
whether the snake was deceiving her or no; so the snake bade her
experiment on a tarop tree which grew near. Thereupon she
gathered up some dust and repeated the incantation and blew on it and
suddenly threw it over the snake, which at once turned to ashes, and
that was the end of the snake.

Then the prince and his wife went on their way [154]rejoicing, and he was filled with wonder at the
way in which his bride had saved him by persisting in going with
him.

[Contents]

XLV. The Tiger’s Bride.

One day a woman went to cut thatching grass and she cut such a
quantity that when she tied it up, the bundle was too big for her to
lift on to her head; so she stood and called for some one to help her,
but no one was within hearing and no one came. She called and called
and at last began to promise that she would give her daughter in
marriage to any one who would help her.

After she had called out this a few times, a tiger suddenly appeared
and asked what she wanted; she explained her difficulty and the tiger
undertook to lift the load on to her head, if she would really give him
her daughter in marriage. She promised and with the help of the tiger
took up the bundle and went home.

Two or three days after, the tiger presented himself at her house
and was duly married to the daughter. After the wedding the couple
started for the tiger’s home; all the way the unhappy bride wept
and sang:—

“How far off is our home, big head?”

“You can just see the mouth of the cave” answered the
tiger and in a short time they came to a large cave. Then the tiger
told her to set to work and cook a feast while he went off and invited
his friends to come and share it. But the bride when left alone caught
a cat and killed it and hung it over the fire, so that its blood
dropped slowly into the pan and made a fizzling noise, as if cooking
were going on; and then she ran off to her [155]mother’s house and climbed a tree which
grew near it and began to sing:—

“You married me to a ti-ti-tiger:

You threw me to a bear:

Take back the necklace you gave me

Take back the bracelet and the diamonds and the
coral.”

Meanwhile the tiger returned with his friends and sat down outside
the cave and told his wife to be quick with the cooking of the cakes
for he heard the hissing over the fire and thought that she was
cooking. At last as she did not come out, he got tired of waiting and
went in to fetch her: then he saw that she had disappeared and had to
go and tell his friends. They were very angry at being cheated out of a
feast, and fell upon the tiger and beat him, till he ran away and was
seen no more: but his bride was left to flit from tree to tree
singing:—

“You married me to a ti-ti-tiger:

You threw me to a bear:

Take back the necklace you gave me

Take back the bracelet and the diamonds and the
coral.”

[Contents]

XLVI. The Killing of the Tiger.

They say that there was a time when all living things had a common
speech and animals and men could understand each other, and in those
days there was a man-eating tiger which infested a jungle through which
a highroad ran; it preyed on people passing along the road till no one
ventured to travel, and as the country was so unsafe, the people went
in a body to the Raja and told him of the ravages of the tiger and
asked him to send a force of soldiers to hunt and shoot it.

So the Raja called together all his soldiers and promised to give
half his kingdom to any one of them [156]who would kill the
tiger, but not one of them was brave enough to make the attempt; they
said that their business was to fight men and not tigers and leopards;
then the Raja extended his offer to all his subjects and the
petitioners went home to consult about it; and the news was published
that the Raja would give half his kingdom to the slayer of the
tiger.

Now there was a poor man who was a very brave shikari of big game,
and cunning into the bargain, and he offered to go and kill the tiger.
They questioned him carefully, and when they saw that he was in earnest
they took him to the Raja to hear from the Raja’s lips what his
reward should be; and the Raja promised him half his kingdom, and wrote
a bond to that effect, for he thought that the tiger would surely kill
the man. Then the shikari said that he would start the next morning and
return the next day either with the dead tiger or with bits of its ears
and claws to show that he had killed it. The Raja told the people to
watch carefully and see that the shikari did not cheat by taking the
claws and ears of a tiger with him.

The next morning the shikari started off and all he took with him
was a looking-glass and three pictures of a tiger drawn on three pieces
of paper and a hatchet; he went to the road which the tiger frequented
and climbed a banyan tree and spent the night in it. The tiger did not
pass by at all that night but in the morning it appeared and called out
“Who is up in the tree?” The shikari said “It is
I.” “Come down quickly,” said the tiger, “I
have been looking for you.” “Wait a minute,” answered
the shikari, “I have been looking for you also.”

“What for?” said the tiger: “Tell me first why you
are looking for me,” said the man: “To eat you,”
answered the tiger; then the man said, “Well I have been hunting
for you to catch you and take you away. I [157]have caught three or
four like you and if you don’t believe me, let me get down and I
will show you”. The tiger got into a fright and said: “Come
down and show me.” So the shikari climbed down and uncovered his
looking glass and told the tiger to look and he reflected in the glass
the pictures of the tigers which he had brought and said, “Now I
am going to catch you and put you in here also.” The tiger asked
why he was to be caught and the shikari said that it was because he had
made the road unsafe by killing travellers; then the tiger begged and
prayed to be let off and promised that he would never kill any
travellers again. At last the shikari said that he would let him go, if
he would allow him to cut off his claws and the tips of his ears and
the tip of his tongue as a pledge of his good faith. The tiger said,
“Well, you may cut off one claw from each foot and the very tip
of my ears and tongue.” So the shikari cut them off with his
hatchet and, after again warning the tiger, went back home; and then
presented himself with all his friends before the Raja and the Raja
gave him the promised reward, But the tiger’s tongue festered
and, after roaring with pain for a whole day, it died.

[Contents]

XLVII. The Dream.

One night as a man and his wife lay talking in bed, the woman told
her husband that she had dreamt that in a certain place she had dug up
a pot full of rupees, and she proposed that they should go and look for
it and see whether the dream was true. While they talked, it chanced
that some thieves, who had climbed on to the roof, overheard the
conversation and at once decided to forestall the others. So they went
off to the place which the woman had described and began to dig, and
after digging a little they were delighted to come on a pot with a lid
on. But when they took off the lid an enormous [158]snake raised its head and hissed at them. At
this the thieves cursed the woman who had misled them and agreed to
take the snake and drop it through the roof on to the man and his wife
as they lay in bed. So they shut the snake up again and carried it off
to the house and, making a hole in the thatch, dropped it through. But
as it fell the snake changed into a stream of money, which came
rattling down on the couple below; the thieves found a snake, but it
was not a real snake, it was Thakur; and it was his will to give the
money to the man and his wife. When these two had recovered from their
astonishment, they gathered up the money, and lived in wealth ever
afterwards.

[Contents]

XLVIII. The King of the Bhuyans.

There was once a king of the Bhuyans and near his palace was a
village of Santals; he was a kind ruler and both Santals and Bhuyans
were very happy under his sway. But when he died, he was succeeded by
his son, who was a very severe master and soon fell out with the
Santals. If he found any cattle or buffaloes grazing anywhere near his
crops, he had the cowherds beaten severely: so that no one dared to
take the cattle in that direction.

The Santals were very angry at this and longed to get even with the
Raja; they planned to turn the cattle into the Raja’s crops at
night when no one could see them or catch them, but in the end their
courage failed them.

One year after the rice had been cut, but before the millet crop was
gathered, the youths and maidens of the Santal village had a dance and
danced all night till nearly morning; then they agreed that it was not
worth while to go to bed and they had better take the cattle out to
graze at once. [159]

After grazing their fill, the cattle all collected at the midday
resting place and the cowherds were so sleepy after their night’s
dancing, that they fell fast asleep on the bare ground. After a time
the buffaloes began to move again and seeing a nice field of millet
belonging to the Raja soon made their way to it and grazed the whole
field down. The Raja happened to pass that way and was filled with
wrath at the sight; he at once ordered his sipahis to go and
beat the cowherds within an inch of their lives and so the
sipahis ran to the place with sticks. Their approach roused the
sleeping cowherds who jumped up and ran off home as hard as they could;
all but the servant of the village paramanik (assistant headman)
he did not run away but went to drive the cattle out of the field; he
knew that this was his duty to his master and he was resolved to do his
duty even at the cost of his life.

As all the other boys had got away the sipahis turned their
attention to him, but as they aimed blows at him with the sticks, he
caught the blows on his arms and the sticks shivered to atoms without
harming him; so then they went to kick him but a great cibei
snake came rustling up behind them; so they saw it was no use to
contend with him and desisted: whereupon he drove all the village
cattle home in triumph.

The sipahis reported to the Raja how the cowherds had all made good
their escape, and how the paramanik’s herd boy had driven off the
cattle. Then the Raja told them to go that afternoon at the time the
cattle were brought home for the night and wait at the end of the
village street and then give the cowherds the thrashing they deserved;
The sipahis did as they were ordered and that evening waited for the
returning herd boys; and caught them as they came home and thrashed
them within an inch of their lives. The others were all left senseless
on the ground: but the [160]sipahis did not dare to lay hands
on the paramanik’s herd boy, he drove the cattle back into the
village, and told the villagers what had been done to their sons. So
the villagers went out with beds and carried the wounded boys home;
then they assembled and resolved to go and punish the Raja, so they
went to him and asked what he meant by killing their children.
“Dear me,” said the Raja, “are they really
dead?” “Well, if not not quite dead, they are very
ill,” was the answer. “I am sorry,” said the Raja:
“I admit that I have done wrong, but if you will forgive me this
time, I will undertake to cure them in a minute and make them as well
as ever; go and fetch them here.”

So the Santals went off to fetch the wounded cowherds and carried
them to the Raja, all lying senseless on beds and put them down before
him. While they were away the Raja had told his sipahis to grind some
good hot chilis; and when the cowherds were brought to him he
told the sipahis to thrust the chili paste up their noses; this was
done and the smarting soon made the cowherds jump up and run away in a
very lively fashion, and that was the way the Raja kept his word and
cured them.

[Contents]

XLIX. The Foolish Sons.

There was once a man of the blacksmith caste who had six sons; the
sons were all married and the whole family lived together. But the
sons’ wives took to quarrelling and at last the sons went to
their parents and proposed that they should set up separate households,
as the women folk could not live in peace.

The blacksmith and his wife did not like the idea at all and pointed
out that it would be most inadvisable; while, so far, there was plenty
of food and clothing for all, they would find it much more expensive to
have [161]seven separate households and split up what was
quite enough so long as they lived together, and what was to become of
their old parents who were now too old to work? The sons protested that
they would support their father and mother as long as they lived, even
though the family separated.

At last the old man said that he would put them to the test and see
whether they were clever enough to manage their own affairs and smart
enough to cheat people into giving them what they wanted. “I will
see,” said he, “how you would manage to support the family
in time of famine or if we fell into poverty. I and your mother have
managed to bring up a large family, and you know nothing of the anxiety
that it has cost us; you have merely had to enjoy yourselves and eat
your meals; if you insist on it, I will let you separate, but
don’t blame me afterwards. However to-morrow I will take you on a
journey and find some means of testing your cleverness.”

So the next morning they made ready for the journey; their father
only allowed them to take one meal of rice tied up in their cloths and
he gave each of them one pice, which he said was their inheritance.
They set off and after travelling some way they sat down and ate up
their rice and then went on again. By the middle of the afternoon they
began to feel hungry, so the father proposed their going to a bazar
which was in sight; but between them and the bazar was a channel of
stagnant water, very deep, and with its surface covered by a coating of
weeds. They tried to cross, but directly they set foot on it they sank
through the weeds, and it was too deep for wading. So their father said
they would all camp on the bank and he would see whether they were
clever enough to get across the channel and bring food for a meal; if
they could do that he would believe that they could support their
families in time of famine. [162]

So the old man spread his cloth on the ground and set down and
watched them try their luck one by one. The eldest brother first jumped
up to try but he could not cross the channel; everytime he tried, he
sank through the weeds, at last he gave up in despair and admitted that
he could not feed the party. Then the other brothers all tried in turn
and failed. At last it came to the turn of the youngest; he modestly
said that he was not likely to succeed where his elders had failed but
he would have a try, so he went to the edge of the water and spreading
out his cloth on the weeds lay down on it so that his weight was
distributed; in this position the weeds supported him and he managed to
wriggle himself across on his face to the other side.

Once across, he went to the bazar, and going to a shop began to talk
with the shopkeeper; after a little he asked for the loan of an anna;
the shopkeeper said that he could not lend to a stranger; the
blacksmith’s son gave the name of some village as his home and
pressed for the loan, promising to pay him one anna as interest within
a week and pulling out his pice he said “See here, I will pay you
this pice as part of the interest in advance.” At this the
shopkeeper suffered himself to be persuaded and lent him the anna.

With this the blacksmith’s son went off to a second shop and
begged for the loan of four annas, as he had pressing need of it; he
promised to pay an anna a week interest, and to pay down at once the
interest for the first week. After some hesitation the shopkeeper was
deceived into lending the four annas. Then he went off to another shop
and borrowed a rupee by promising to pay eight annas a month as
interest and putting down four annas as advance.

Then he went to a Marwari’s shop and asked for the loan of ten
rupees; the Marwari asked for interest at the rate of one rupee a day;
the blacksmith’s son protested [163]that that was too
high but offered to pay one rupee every two days and to pay one rupee
of interest in advance; the Marwari hesitated, but after being given a
name and address—which were however false—he gave way and
took his signature to a bond and lent him the ten rupees. At this the
blacksmith’s son set off in triumph to rejoin his brothers; he
crossed the water in the same way as before and took the ten rupees to
his father.

Then they all went on to another bazar and bought dried rice and
sweetmeats and curds and had a grand feast. Then their father proceeded
to point out to his sons how, except the youngest, they were all
useless; they had been unable to cross the channel or to make anything
of their own pice of capital; they had nothing to answer, and all went
home and from that day nothing was heard of any proposal to divide the
family until the old father and mother died.

[Contents]

L. Kora and His Sister.

There were once seven brothers and they had one sister who was the
youngest of the family. The six eldest brothers were married but no
wife had been found for the youngest; for three years enquiries were
made to try and find a suitable bride for him, but all in vain. At last
the young man, whose name was Kora, told his parents and brothers not
to trouble any more, as he would find a wife for himself; he intended
to bring a flowering plant from the forest and plant it by the stand on
which the watering pots were kept, and then he would marry any maiden
who picked one of the flowers and put it in her hair.

His father and mother approved of this proposal, so the next day he
brought some sort of flowering plant and planted it by the water-pot
stand. He charged all his family to be most careful that no one of his
own [164]relations picked the flower and also to warn any
of the village girls who wanted to pick it, that if she did so and put
it in her hair, she would thereby become his wife; but if, knowing
this, anyone wished to do so, they were not to prevent her.

The neighbours soon got to hear what the plant meant and used often
to come and look at it, and Kora watched it growing, till after a time
it produced a bud and then a beautiful and sweet-scented flower. All
the village girls came to see the beautiful flower; and one day
Kora’s sister when she went to the water-stand to get some water
to drink, caught hold of it and longed to pick it, it looked so pretty.
Her mother saw what she was doing and scolded her for touching the
forbidden flower, but the girl begged to see what it would look like in
her hair; there could be no harm done if she pulled the whole plant up
by its roots and put it in her hair and then replanted it; no one would
know what had happened. In spite of her mother’s remonstrances
she insisted on doing this and having seen how the flower looked in her
hair carefully replanted it.

Soon afterwards Kora came home and went to see his flower; he knew
at once that some one had worn it and called to his mother and asked
who it was. She protested that she knew nothing about the matter, but
Kora said that he could tell by the smell that it had been worn and
then he showed that there was also a hair sticking to the flower. Then
his mother admitted that in spite of all she could say, his sister had
worn the flower and planted it again in the ground.

When she saw that she was found out, the girl began to cry, but her
father said that it was clearly fated that she and Kora should marry
and this was the reason why they had been unable to find any other
bride; so they must now arrange for the wedding. Accordingly rice was
got ready and all the usual preparations made for [165]a
marriage. The unfortunate girl saw that flight was her only means of
escape from such a fate, so one day she ran away; all she took with her
was a pet parrot.

For many days she travelled on and one day she stopped by a pool to
bathe and as she rubbed her limbs she collected the scurf that she
rubbed off her skin and put in on the ground in one place; then she
went on with her bathing; but at the place where she had put the scurf
of her skin, a palm tree sprang up and grew so rapidly, that, by the
time she came out of the water, it had become a large tree.

The girl was struck by this strange sight and at once thought that
the tree would afford her a safe refuge; so she climbed up it with her
parrot in her hand and when safely seated among the leaves she begged
the palm tree to grow so tall that no one would be able to find her,
and the tree grew till it reached an unusual height. So the girl stayed
in the tree top and the parrot used to go every day and bring her food.
Meanwhile her parents and brothers searched high and low for her for
two or three days, for the wedding day was close at hand, but their
search was of course in vain; and they concluded that the girl must
have drowned herself in some river.

Time passed and one day at noon, a Mahuli girl, who was taking her
basket-ware to market, stopped to rest in the shade of the palm tree:
and as she sat there, Kora’s sister called to her from the top of
the tree and asked her to give her a small winnowing fan in exchange
for a bracelet The Mahuli girl told her to throw the bracelet down
first. Kora’s sister made no objection to this, and when she had
got the bracelet, the Mahuli girl threw up a winnowing fan which soared
right up to where Kora’s sister was sitting. Before the Mahuli
girl went on her way, Kora’s sister made her promise never to let
anyone see the bracelet whew she went about selling her baskets
[166]as otherwise it would be stolen from her; and
secondly on no account to let it be known that there was anyone in the
palm tree, on pain of death. The Mahuli girl kept her promise and
whenever she went out selling baskets she used to keep her bracelet
covered with her cloth.

One day it chanced that she went to the house where Kora lived to
sell her wares and they asked her why it was that she kept her arm
covered; she told them that she had a sore on it; they wanted to see
how big the sore was, but she refused to show it, saying that if she
showed it she would die. They laughed at such a ridiculous story and at
last forced her to show her arm, which of course was quite well; but
they at once recognised the bracelet and asked where she had got it
from. The Mahuli girl refused to tell them and said that if she did,
she would die. “What a foolish girl you are” they objected
“first you say you will die if you show us your arm and then if
you tell us where you got this bracelet from; it belonged to our
daughter whom we have lost, and so you must tell us! Come, we will give
you a basket full of rice if you tell us.” The Mahuli girl could
not resist this offer, and when the basket of rice was produced, she
told them where the palm tree was, in which Kora’s sister was
hiding. In all haste the father and mother went to the tree and found
that it was much too high for them to climb: so they begged their
daughter to come down and promised not to marry her to her brother; but
she would not come down: then they sang:—

“You have made a palm tree from the scrapings of
your skin

And have climbed up into it, daughter!

Come daughter, come down.”

But she only answered:—

“Father and mother, why do you cry?

I must spend my life here:

“Do you return home.”

[167]

So they went home in despair.

Then her sisters-in-law came in their turn and sang:—

“Palm tree, palm tree, give us back our
sister:

The brother and sister have got to be
married.”

But she would not answer them nor come down from the tree, so they
had to go home without her.

Then all her other relations came and besought her to come down, but
she would not listen to them. So they went away and invoked a storm to
come to their aid. And a storm arose and cold rain fell, till the girl
in the palm tree was soaked and shivering, and the wind blew and swayed
the palm tree so that its top kept touching the ground. At last she
could bear the cold and wet no more and, seizing an opportunity when
the tree touched the ground, she slipped off. Her relations had made
all the villagers promise on no account to let her into their houses;
so when she went into the village and called out at house after house
no one answered her or opened to her. Then she went to her own home and
there also they refused to open to her.

But Kora had lit a big fire in the cow house and sat by it warming
himself, knowing that the girl would have to come to him; and as she
could find no shelter elsewhere she had to go to his fire, and then she
sat and warmed herself and thought “I fled for fear of this man
and now I have come back to him; this is the end, I can no longer stay
in this world; the people will not even let me into their houses. I
have no wish to see them again.”

So she sat and thought, and when she was warmed, she lay down by the
side of Kora; and he wore tied to his waist a nail-cutter; she
unfastened this and cut her throat with it as she lay. Her death
struggles aroused Kora, and he got up and saw the ground covered with
her blood and he saw that she had [168]killed herself with his
nail-cutter; then he took counsel with himself and also cut his throat
in the same way. In the morning the two corpses were found lying side
by side, and it was seen that their blood refused to mingle but had
flowed in opposite directions.

So they took the bodies away to burn them and laid them on one pyre;
and when the fire was lit, it was seen that the smoke from the two
bodies rose separately into the air. Then all who saw it, said
“We wished to marry brother and sister but Chando would not
approve of it; see how their blood would not mingle though spilt on the
same floor, and how the smoke from the pyre rises in two separate
columns; it is plain that the marriage of brother and sister is
wrong.” From that time such manages have been discontinued.

[Contents]

LI. A Story on Caste.

There was once a village inhabited only by Musahars. Among them was
one girl who was so beautiful that she seemed more than human. Her
father and mother were so proud of her looks that they determined not
to marry her to a man of their own caste. They were constantly
discussing whom they should choose as a son-in-law; one day they began
to consider who were the greatest persons in the world. The old woman
was of opinion that there was no one greater than Chando, the Sun God,
and suggested that they should marry the girl to him. Her husband
agreed and off they set and presented themselves before Chando. Chando
asked why they had come. “O Chando, we understand that you are
the greatest being in the world and we have come to marry our daughter
to you,” Chando answered “I fancy there is some one greater
than I,” “Who is he?” asked the parents. “The
cloud is greater than I, for it can hide my face and quench my
rays.” [169]

At this the father and mother hurried off with their daughter in
search of the Cloud, and when they found him, told him that they had
brought their daughter to give him to wife, as he was the greatest
being in the world. “I may be great,” said the Cloud,
“but there is a greater than I, the Wind. The Wind rises and
blows me away in a minute.” So they went in search of the Wind
and when they found him, explained to him why they had brought him
their daughter. The Wind said “I am strong but there are stronger
than I: the Mountains are stronger. I can blow things down or whirl
them away, but I cannot move the mountains.”

So on they went to the Mountain and explained their errand. The
Mountain said “I am great but there are more powerful than I. The
ground-rat is more powerful, for however high I may be the ground-rats
burrow holes in me and I cannot resist them.”

The poor parents by this time began to feel rather discouraged, but
still they made up their minds to persevere and went on to look for the
ground-rat. They found him and offered him their daughter in marriage,
but the ground-rat denied that he was the most powerful being on earth,
the Musahars were more powerful for they lived by digging out
ground-rats and eating them.

The hapless couple went home very dejectedly, reflecting that they
had begun by despising their own caste and had gone in search of
something greater and had ended where they begun. So they arranged to
marry their daughter to a man of their own caste after all.

Moral You should not despise your own caste or race; you
cannot help what caste you are born into. A Santal may learn to read
and write and associate with men of good position and thereby his mind
may be perverted. He may wish to change his caste [170]become a Sadhu, or a Kherwar, or a Boistab, or a
Mussulman, or a Christian or anything else; but people will still know
him for a beef-eating Santal. If he becomes a Christian, no one will
think him the equal of a Saheb or a Brahman; no Saheb will marry his
daughter or give him his daughter in marriage. Remember what happened
to the Musahar, who despised his own caste. God caused you to be born
in a certain caste. He and not we made the different castes and He
knows what is good and bad for us.

[Contents]

LII. Tipi and Tepa.

Tipi and Tepa dwelt together and lived on baked cakes. One day they
met a bear in the jungle. “Now I will eat you” growled the
bear. “Spare us,” said Tipi and Tepa “and to-morrow
we will beg some food and bake it into cakes and give it to you,”
So the bear let them go away to beg; but when they came back they ate
the food which they had procured and then hid themselves inside a
hollow gourd. The bear came and looked about for them but could not
find them and went away.

The next day Tipi and Tepa again went out begging and as luck would
have it again met the bear. “Now I will eat you” said the
bear. “No” said they “let us go and beg some food for
you.” So they went off begging and came back and baked cakes and
ate them and then hid inside the gourd. The bear came and carried off
the gourd on its shoulder and began to pick plums and other fruit and
put them into the gourd. As fast as the fruit was put in Tipi and Tepa
ate it up. “It is a very funny thing that the gourd does not
become full” thought the bear. But Tepa ate so much that at last
he burst, with such a noise that the bear threw down the gourd and ran
away. [171]

[Contents]

LIII. The Child with the Ears of an Ox.

Once upon a time a son was born to a certain Raja and the child had
the ears of an ox. The Raja was very much ashamed and let no one know.
But the secret could not be kept from the barber who had to perform the
ceremony of shaving the child’s head. However the Raja made the
barber vow not to tell anyone of what he had seen.

So the barber went away, but the secret which he might not tell had
an unfortunate effect; it made his stomach swell to an enormous size.
As the barber went along in this unhappy condition he met a Dom who
asked why his stomach was so swollen. The barber said that it was
because he had shaved the Raja’s child and had seen that it had
the ears of an ox. Directly he had broken his vow and blurted out the
secret, his stomach returned to its usual size.

The Dom went his way and cut down a tree and made a drum out of the
wood, and went about playing on the drum and begging. He came to the
Raja’s palace and there he drummed and sang:—

“The son of the Raja

Has the ears of an ox.”

When the Raja heard this, he was very angry, and swore to punish the
barber who must have broken his vow. But the Dom assured the Raja that
he knew nothing about the matter; that it was the drum that sang the
words and not he and that he had no idea what they meant. So the Raja
was pacified and gave the Dom a present and sent him away and the
barber was not punished. [172]

[Contents]

LIV. The Child Who Knew His Father.

Once upon a time there was a girl whose parents took the greatest
care that she should not be familiar with any of the young men of the
village. But in spite of their precautions she formed an intimacy with
a young man and was presently found to be with child. When this became
known the villagers held a panchayat to enquire into the matter, but
the girl flatly declined to give any information and her father and
brothers were unable to point out the offender. So the village elders
decided to let the matter stand over till the child was born.

When the birth took place the question arose in whose name its head
should be shaved; as its father was still unknown, the villagers
decided that this should be settled when the child was old enough to
talk. So when the child was two or three years old and could prattle a
little, the girl’s father went to the headman and paranic
and asked them what was to be done. They said that he must pay a fine
to them and another to the villagers, because he had made the village
unclean for so long, and give a feast to the villagers and then they
would find out the father of the child and make him marry the girl; and
if he refused to do this, he would be outcasted. The unfortunate man
agreed and then the jog manjhi and godet were sent to
call all the men of the neighbourhood to a meeting.

They assembled in their best clothes and pagris and sat down in
rows, and in the middle a circle was drawn on the ground; then prayers
were offered to Chando and the child was set in the circle and told to
find its father. The child began to walk slowly along the lines of men
but it did not stop till it came to its real father, who was sitting a
little apart, and then it threw itself into [173]his
arms. Thus the truth was discovered and the man married the girl and,
as he was very poor, went to live in his father-in-law’s
house.

[Contents]

LV. Jogeshwar’s Marriage.

Once upon a time there was a young man of the weaver caste, named
Jogeshwar. He was an orphan and lived all alone. One summer he planted
a field of pumpkins on the sandy bed of a river. The plants grew well
and bore plenty of fruit: but when the pumpkins were ripe, a jackal
found them out and went every night and feasted on them. Jogeshwar soon
found out from the foot-marks who was doing the damage; so he set a
snare and a few days later found the jackal caught in it. He took a
stick to beat its life out, but the jackal cried: “Spare me and I
will find you a wife.” So Jogeshwar stayed his hand and released
the jackal who promised at once to set off about the business.

The jackal kept his word and went to a city where a Raja lived.
There he sat down on the bank of one of the Raja’s tanks. To this
tank the servants from the palace brought the pots and dishes to be
washed, and to this tank also came the Rani and princesses to bathe.
Whenever the servants came to wash their dishes, the jackal kept on
repeating: “What sort of a Raja is this whose plates are washed
in water in which people have bathed? there is no Raja like Raja
Jogeshwar: he eats of golden plates and yet he never uses them a second
time but throws them away directly he has eaten off them
once.”

The servants soon carried word to the Raja of the jackal who sat by
the tank and of his story of Raja Jogeshwar. Then the Raja sent for the
jackal and asked why he had come: the jackal answered that he was
looking for a bride for Raja Jogeshwar. Now [174]the
Raja had three or four daughters and he thought that he saw his way to
a fine match for one of them. So he sent for the young women and asked
the jackal to say whether one of them would be a suitable bride for
Raja Jogeshwar. The jackal chose the second sister and said that he
would go and get the consent of Raja Jogeshwar.

The jackal hurried back and told the astonished weaver that he had
found a Raja’s daughter for him to marry. Jogeshwar had nothing
to delay him and only asked that an early day might be fixed for the
wedding. So the jackal went back to the Raja and received from him the
knotted string that fixed the date of the wedding.

The jackal had now to devise some means by which Jogeshwar could go
through the wedding ceremonies without his poverty being found out. He
first went to the Raja and asked how many attendants Raja Jogeshwar
should bring with him, as he did not want to bring more than the
bride’s father could entertain. The Raja was too proud to fix any
number and said they could bring as many as they liked.

Jogeshwar having no relations and no money, was quite unable to
arrange for a grand procession to escort him; he could only just afford
to hire a palki in which to be carried to the bride’s house; so
the jackal sent word to all the jackals and paddy birds of the
neighbourhood to come to a feast at the palace of the bride, an
invitation which was eagerly accepted. At the time fixed they started
off, with all the paddy birds riding on the backs of the jackals. When
they came within sight of the palace, the jackal ran on ahead and
invited the Raja to come out and look at the procession as there was
still time to send them back, if they were too many, but it would be a
great disgrace if they were allowed to arrive and find no
entertainment. The Raja went out to look and when he saw the procession
[175]stretching away for a distance of two miles or
more with all the paddy birds looking like white horsemen as they rode
on the backs of the jackals, his heart failed him and he begged the
jackal to send them away, as he could not entertain such a host.

So then the jackal hurried back and turned them all away and
Jogeshwar reached the palace, accompanied only by his palki
bearers.

Before the wedding feast, the jackal gave Jogeshwar some hints as to
his behaviour. He warned him that three of four kinds of meat and
vegetables would be handed round with the rice, and bade him to be sure
to help himself from each dish—of course in his own house the
poor weaver had never had more than one dish to eat with his
rice—and when pan was handed to him after the feast he was
not to take any until he had a handful of money given him; by such
behaviour he would lead every one to think that he was really a prince.
Jogeshwar did exactly as he was told and was thought a very grand
personage.

The next evening Jogeshwar set off homewards with his bride, the
bride’s brothers and attendants accompanying them. They travelled
on and on till the bride’s party began to grow tired and kept
asking the jackal how much further they had to go. The jackal kept on
putting them off, till at last they came in sight of a grove of palm
trees, and he told them that Raja Jogeshwar’s palace stood among
the palm trees but was so old and weather worn that it could not be
seen from a distance.

When they reached the palm grove and found nothing but
Jogeshwar’s humble hut, the bride’s brothers turned on the
jackal and asked what he meant by deceiving them. The jackal protested
that he had told no lies: the weaver ate every day off plates made of
dry leaves and threw them away when done with and that was all he meant
when he talked of golden plates. At this [176]excuse they turned on
him and wanted to beat him, but he ran away and escaped.

The bride’s friends went back and told the Raja how things had
turned out and as divorce was not lawful for them, the Raja could only
send for his daughter and her husband and give them an estate to live
on.

[Contents]

LVI. The Strong Man.

There was once a Strong man but no one knew of his strength. He was
in the service of a farmer who made him headman over all his
labourers. In those days much of the country
was still covered with jungle. One day the farmer chose a piece of
forest land which he thought suitable for cultivation and told his
labourers to set to work and clear it, and as usual after giving his
orders he troubled himself no more about the matter, as he could fully
rely on the Strong man.

The next morning, the Strong man set the other labourers to work
ploughing a field and then said that he would go and have a look at the
jungle which his master wanted cleared. So he went off alone with only
a stick in his hand. When he reached the place, he walked all round it,
and saw how much could be made into good arable land, and then he began
to clear it. He pulled up the trees by the roots and piled them into a
heap and he took the rocks and threw them to one side and made the
ground quite clear and smooth, and then went back to the house. On
being asked why he had been so long away, he answered that he had been
pulling up a few bushes at the place which was to be cleared.

The following morning the Strong man told the farm labourers to take
their ploughs to the clearing and begin to plough it. When the farmer
heard this, he was puzzled to think how the land could be ready for
ploughing so [177]soon, and went to see it and to his amazement
found the whole land cleared, every tree pulled up by the roots and all
the rocks removed.

Then he asked the Strong man whether he had done the work by
himself. The Strong man answered “no,” a number of people
had volunteered to help him and so the work had been finished in a
day.

The farmer said nothing but he did not believe the story and saw
that his servant must really be a man of marvellous strength. Neither
he nor the farm labourers let any one else know what had happened, they
kept it to themselves.

Now the Strong man’s wages were twelve measures of rice a
year. After working for four years he made up his mind to leave his
master and start farming on his own account. So he told the farmer that
he wished to leave but offered to finish any work there was to do
before he went, that no one might be able to say that he had gone away,
leaving his work half done. The farmer assured him that there was
nothing for him to do and gave him rice equal to his four years’
wages. The rice made two big bandis, each more than an ordinary
man could lift, but the Strong man slung them on to a bamboo and
carried them off over his shoulder.

After he had gone a little way, it struck the farmer that it would
not do to let him display his strength in this way and that it would be
better if he took the rice away at night. So he had the Strong man
called back and told him that there was one job which he had forgotten
to finish; he had put two bundles of sahai grass into the trough to
steep and had forgotten to twist it into string. Without a word the
Strong man wait and picked the sabai out of the water and began
to twist it, but he could tell at once by the feel that the
sabai had only just been placed in the water and he charged the
farmer with playing a trick on him. The farmer swore [178]that
there was no trick and, rather than quarrel, the Strong man went on
with the work.

While he was so engaged the farmer offered him some tobacco, and the
Strong man took it without washing and wiping his hands. Now no one
should prepare or chew tobacco while twisting sabai; if one does not
first wash and dry one’s hands one’s strength will go. The
Strong man knew this, but he was so angry at being called back on false
pretences that he forgot all about it.

But when he had finished the string and the farmer said that he
might go, he essayed to take up the two bandis of rice as
before. To his sorrow he found that he could not lift them. Then he saw
the mistake that he had made. He had to leave one bandi behind
and divide the other into two halves and sling them on the bamboo and
carry them off with him.

The Strong man’s cultivation did not prosper, and after three
or four years he found himself at the end of his means and had again to
take service with a farmer.

One day when field work was in full swing the Strong man had a
quarrel with his new master. So when he had finished the
morning’s ploughing he pulled the iron point of the ploughshare
out of its socket and snapped it in two. Then he took the pieces to his
master and explained that it had caught on the stump of a tree and got
broken. The master took the broken share to the blacksmith and had it
mended. The next day the Strong man went through the same performance
and his master had again to go the blacksmith. The same thing happened
several days running, till at last the farmer decided to keep watch and
see what really happened. So he hid himself and saw the Strong man snap
the ploughshare in two; but in view of such a display of strength he
was much too frightened to let his servant know that he had found out
the trick that was being played on [179]him. He took the pieces to
the blacksmith as usual and at the smithy he found some of his friends
and told them what had happened. They advised him to set the Strong man
to twisting sabai string and then by some pretext induce him to take
tobacco. The farmer did as they advised and in about a fortnight the
Strong man lost all his strength and became as other men. Then his
master dismissed him and he had to go back to his house and his
strength never returned to him.

[Contents]

LVII. The Raja’s Advice.

Once upon a time an aged Raja lay dying. Before he breathed his last
he sent for his only son and gave him the following advice. “My
son,” he said, “never go on a journey alone; do not
associate with low people, for if you do no one will respect you; never
confide a secret to your wife; do not tell outsiders the affairs of
your house; do not let village affairs go beyond the village street,
and never get into a rage.”

The son succeeded to the Raja and shortly afterwards set out to pay
a visit to his wife’s relations. He started alone and after going
some distance he remembered his father’s injunctions never to go
on a journey alone. He had gone too far to go back and he saw no one
within call, so he looked about and presently found a crab hole. He set
to work and dug out the crab and fixing it in his pagri
continued his journey.

By-and-bye he came to a river. Now in this river lived a crocodile,
which had leagued with a crow to destroy travellers crossing the river.
Whenever the crow saw anyone coming, it gave warning to the crocodile,
and the crocodile then seized the traveller as he entered the river,
while the crow pecked out his eyes. In this way they had been the death
of many travellers. So [180]when the crow saw the young Raja
coming, it cawed to the crocodile, which hastened to the ford and
seized the Raja as he stepped into the water, while the crow flew at
his head. But the crab caught the crow by the leg and nipped it so hard
that the crow, in agony, called out to the crocodile to let the man go,
as it was being killed. So the crocodile released its hold and the Raja
struggled to the bank, and then caught the crow which was held fast by
the crab and wrung its neck. Then he went back home with the crab,
reflecting on the wisdom of his father’s advice.

Later on, the Raja thought that he would put another of his
father’s maxims to the proof and see what would happen if he told
his wife a secret. So he took a spade and buried an old earthen pot in
the corner of his garden. He let his wife see him and she promptly
asked what he was burying; he put her off, but that night she insisted
so much on knowing, that, after swearing her to secrecy, he told her
that a child had come straying to his house and he had killed it to
obtain good luck and had buried the body.

Time passed, and one day the Raja had a quarrel with his wife, he
began to beat her and she in return abused him and kept on calling out
that he was a murderer, who had buried a child in his garden. Their
next door neighbour heard all this and, directly she found the
Raja’s wife alone, asked whether what she said was true. The
Raja’s wife, being still in a passion, asserted that it was quite
true. The story was soon all over the town, and the townspeople rose
and seized the Raja and charged him with the murder. Then he took them
to the garden and made them dig up what he had buried and they found
only an old pot.

So they had to pay him compensation for making a false charge, and
the Raja valued more than ever the advice given him by his father.
[181]

[Contents]

LVIII. The Four Jogis.

Once four Jogis were out on a begging expedition and came to a city
were a Raja lived. As they went along they discussed how they should
beg of the Raja; and while they were discussing the point, they saw a
field rat and one of them exclaimed “I know how I shall beg of
him! I shall say ‘See, he throws up the earth, scrapety
scrape!” This did not help the other
three, but, further on, some frogs jumped into a pond as they passed
by, and one of the others at once said “I know what I shall say!
I shall say ‘plumpety plump! down he has sat.” A little
later, they saw a pig wallowing in the mud, and the third Jogi called
out “I have it! I shall say ‘Rub away, rub away! Now some
more water! Rub away, rub away! I know, my boys, what you are going to
do.” The fourth Jogi was still in
perplexity but, when they came in sight of the Raja’s city, he
exclaimed “I know what I shall say ‘Highways and byeways,
what a big city! The kotwal is going his rounds, his
rounds.

Then they got a man to write down these four forms of address on a
sheet of paper and presented it to the Raja. The Raja took it, and read
it, and could not make head or tail of it. And when the four Jogis saw
him looking so puzzled, they got frightened and took to their heels,
for they could not read themselves and were not sure of what the paper
really contained.

Now the Raja’s chief officer was a Tehsildar, and he had also
a Barber, who shaved him every day, And that evening after the Jogis
had run away, the Tehsildar proposed to the Barber that, when shaving
the Raja the next morning, he should cut the Raja’s throat and
they could then divide the kingdom between them, and the Barber
consented. Not content with this, the Tehsildar [182]and
the palace chowkidar that same night tried to break into the
Raja’s palace and steal his money and jewellery. They began to cut
a hole through the mud wall of the Raja’s room, but it chanced
that the Raja was so puzzled by the paper which the Jogis had put into
his hand, that he kept on reading it over and over again, and just as
the Tehsildar and chowkidar had half cut their way through the wall,
they heard the Raja saying “See, he throws up the earth,
scrapety, scrape!” At once they concluded that they had been
heard and they crouched down; the Raja went on “Plumpety, plump!
down he has sat.” This made them think that they had been seen
and the chowkidar crept to the door to listen: he heard the Raja saying
“Highways and byeways, what a big city! The kotwal is going his
rounds, his rounds!” Then the chowkidar felt sure that he was
discovered and he ran off with the Tehsildar, without completing their
burglary.

The next morning the Barber went to shave the Raja, and, while he
was sharpening the razor, the Raja again began to study the mysterious
paper, murmuring “Rub away, rub away, now some more water: Rub
away, rub away! I know my boy what you are going to do.” The
Barber thought that the Raja referred to his rubbing water over his
face for shaving, and concluded that the Tehsildar had revealed the
plot; so he threw himself at the Raja’s feet and confessed
everything, swearing that the Tehsildar and not he was to blame. The
Raja at once sent for the chowkidar to take the Tehsildar and Barber to
prison. When the chowkidar came in he found the Raja repeating
“See he throws up the earth, scrapety, scrape!” He at once
concluded that the Raja was referring to the burglary and he fell on
his knees and confessed all that had happened. This was news to the
Raja, but he went and saw the place where the wall had been partly cut
through, and then he sent all the [183]guilty men to prison and
despatched messengers to look for the Jogis who had been the means of
saving his life and property; but the Jogis had been so frightened and
had run away so far, that they were never found.

[Contents]

LIX. The Charitable Raja.

There was once a Raja who was very charitable; he used to give a new
cloth and a good meal to every one who came and begged of him. But one
day a Jogi came and refused to take what was offered to him: he
demanded that the Raja should give him his kingdom and everything that
he had. The Raja thought it wrong to refuse the request, and went out
into the world with his wife and his two young children, a beggar. For
a long time they wandered about living on charity, till their clothes
were worn to rags, and then they chanced to hear of a rich merchant who
gave a cloth to any beggar who asked it of him; so they resolved to go
to him for help. When they reached the village where the merchant
lived, the Rani left the Raja with the two children to cook some dinner
and went to the merchant’s house to beg for some clothes; but
when the merchant saw her he fell in love with her and shut her up and
would not let her go. To be saved from the merchant’s designs the
Rani prayed that she might be smitten with disease and at once she
became very ill.

After waiting in vain for her return the Raja set off with his two
sons to look for her and presently came to a flooded river. He carried
one child across first but, as he was returning for the other, he was
swept away by the current and the children were left alone. A Goala
woman, going to the river for water, found them, and as she was
childless took them home with her and brought them up.

Meanwhile the Raja was carried down stream by the [184]flood and was washed ashore, bruised and
wounded, a long way down. At the place where he landed a large crowd
was collected; for the Raja of the country had lately died leaving no
heir, and the widow had ordered all the people to assemble in order
that two elephants, belonging to the late Raja, might choose his
successor. The half-drowned Raja joined the crowd and as he sat looking
on, one elephant, passing by all its own people, came to him and put
the golden necklace on his neck and the other elephant lifted him on to
its back and carried him off and seated him on the Raja’s throne;
and as he sat on the throne all his wounds and bruises were healed.
Years passed and the Raja’s two sons grew up, and as the Goala
woman who had adopted them was very poor, they went out into the world
to earn their living. As it chanced, they took service as sipahis with
the Raja their father, whom of course they did not recognise. Just
after their arrival the Raja arranged a great festival at which people
from all parts assembled; and among others the merchant went there with
the Raja’s wife, in hopes that among the crowd he might find some
physician able to cure the woman. When he arrived, he went to the Raja
and asked that two sipahis might be deputed to keep watch over the
woman he had brought. The Raja sent his two newly enlisted sipahis, and
thus the sons were set to guard their own mother, and it was not long
before they found out their relationship. The Rani was delighted to
recover her long lost children, but when she heard that her husband had
been washed away by the river and drowned, she began to weep and wail.
The merchant went to the Raja and complained that the sipahis who had
been sent, had thrown the woman into great distress and the Raja
thereupon sent for all the parties in order that he might enquire into
the matter. When he heard their story, he at once recognised that it
was his own wife and sons who stood before [185]him
and thus the whole family was happily united. Then his wife prayed to
Thakur that if she were really the wife he had lost and had been
faithful to him, she might be restored to health; water was poured over
her and she was at once cured of her disease, and they all lived
happily ever afterwards.

[Contents]

LX. A Variant.—The Wandering Raja.

Once there was a Raja who was very prosperous; but his wife found
their life of wealth and ease monotonous, and she continually urged him
to travel into other countries and to see whether other modes of life
were pleasant or distressful; she pestered her husband so much that at
last he gave way. He put his kingdom in charge of his father’s
sister and her husband and set off with his wife and his two sons as an
ordinary traveller.

After travelling some days they got tired of eating the parched rice
which they had brought with them and thought they would boil some rice
for their dinner. So the Rani went into a bazar to get cooking pots,
and a light for the fire. She went to the house of a rich merchant for
these, but he was attracted by her beauty and seized her and shut her
up and would not let her go back, but kept her as his wife. The Raja
and his sons soon got tired of waiting for her; he concluded that the
journey was merely a pretext of his wife’s to escape from him, as
she had disappeared the first time that he let her out of his
sight.

So he turned to go home and soon came to a river which had to be
crossed, he left his sons on the bank and went into the water to see
how deep it was and as he was wading in, a large fish came and
swallowed him. The fish swam away down stream and was caught in the net
of some fishermen. When they saw how big [186]a fish they had
caught, they decided to take it to the Raja of that country. The Raja
bought it at a high price, but when it was cut open at the palace the
man it had swallowed was found alive inside; so the Raja of the country
appointed him one of his retainers.

Meanwhile the two boys had been found abandoned on the bank of the
river by a cowherd, who was too poor to bring them up, so he took them
also to the Raja; and they rejoiced to meet their father and when they
grew up, were also appointed retainers.

They had to travel all over the country on the Raja’s business
and it happened that they one day came to the village where their
mother was and they met and recognised her; she told them how she had
been seized and confined and begged them to bring her husband to her.
So the sons fetched their father and the Rani told her husband how
unhappy she was and begged him to get her released, and he promised to
ask the help of his master. When the Raja of the country heard the
story he took pity on them and went with a body of soldiers and seized
the wicked merchant and ordered him to give up all his wealth and as
the merchant tried to conceal where some of his money was buried, the
Raja cut him down with his sword. He also laid a heavy fine on the
villagers, because they had not sent word to him of the capture of the
Rani.

Then he took home the Raja who had been swallowed by the fish and
his wife and sons, and entertained them for some days, and then gave
them elephants and horses and men and all the merchant’s property
and sent them to their own country. The uncle and aunt who had been
appointed Regents came out to meet them and escorted them home.

Two or three days after the aunt asked the Raja how he had got his
elephants and horses and money, and he said “They are the profits
of my wife’s sin; [187]I will not tell you the whole
story for if you heard it you also might be led astray; my wife induced
me to travel by false pretences. It is not good to follow the advice of
a woman; it is by mere chance that you see me alive to-day.” His
wife heard what he said, and she went out and cut her throat from
remorse; and they went and burned her body.

[Contents]

LXI. The Two Wives.

There were once a Raja and his Dewan who had each one son, and the
two boys were great friends. Both had been married in their infancy and
when they grew up and heard that they had wives, they agreed to go
together and visit them. So they set out, and they arranged that on
account of the superior rank of the Raja’s son they would go
first and visit his wife; and they also agreed that, as they were going
to a strange place, they would keep together day and night.

When they reached the house of the Prince’s father-in-law they
were received with great honour and when night came they lay down with
their beds side by side. Presently the Prince’s wife came to him
and began to rub his arms and legs, until she had soothed him off to
sleep. The Dewan’s son pretended also to go fast asleep, but
really he was careful to keep awake, for he thought it safer to be on
the watch in a strange place.

His prudence was rewarded, for after a time he saw the
Prince’s wife leave her sleeping husband and go out of the
house.

The Dewan’s son followed her and saw her enter the house of a
Gosain who lived on the outskirts of the village. He went near and
listened at the door. He heard the Gosain ask the young woman why she
was so late in coming, and her answer that she had been detained by the
visit of her husband. The Gosain reproached [188]her
for not having told him that she was married, and she protested that
she had known nothing about it until her husband appeared. The Gosain
said that she must choose between him and her husband, and she answered
that she would never give him up. “Then” said the Gosain
“if you really mean it, go and bring me your husband’s
head.” At this the Dewan’s son hurried back and lay down on
his bed. Presently he saw the woman come with a sword and cut off her
husband’s head. But when she took it to the Gosain, he rose and
beat her with his iron pincers and drove her out, swearing that he
would have nothing more to do with a woman who was so heartless as to
kill her own husband. Then the woman returned and placed the severed
head by her husband’s body and raised a great outcry, that her
husband had been murdered. The people of the house came and at first
they charged the Dewan’s son with the crime and were about to put
him to death; but he called the Gosain as a witness and the real facts
were proved by his evidence, and the murderess was hanged.

The Dewan’s son would not allow the Prince’s body to be
burnt but insisted on taking it with him, that it might be cremated at
his own home. So he took it on his back and carried it off.

He thought that, as he had come so far, it would be better to visit
his own wife before going home. So, when he reached the village where
his wife lived, he hid the Prince’s body in a hollow tree and
went to his father-in-law’s house.

That night when they had gone to bed, the Dewan’s son saw that
his wife had something on her mind, so he resolved to watch her.

When she thought that he was asleep, he saw her rise and go out of
the house. He followed her to a shrine of Mahadeb; there she smeared
the ground with cowdung and worshipped the god and said “O Siva!
I have [189]worshipped you for many days; now my husband has
come to take me to his house, and you must find another
worshipper.” The Mahadeb answered “You have served me for
many days; call hither your husband; as you have worshipped me for so
long, I will confer a boon on you.” So she went and called her
husband and as he knew what had happened, he had no hesitation in going
with her to the shrine. There the Siv bade him ask a boon, and he
prayed that the Raja’s son might be restored to life, The Siv
bade them bring the body and cover it with a wet cloth; and when they
had done so, the body began to breathe and presently the Prince rose up
alive and well. The Dewan’s son told him all that had happened
and the next day they went home, taking with them the wife of the
Dewan’s son, through whose virtue and piety the Prince had been
restored to life.

[Contents]

LXII. Spanling and His Uncles.

There was once a little man named Spanling (Bita) because he was
only a span (Bita) high; and he had a beard one span and four
finger-breadths long. His father was dead, and he lived alone with his
mother and he was as cunning as anyone in the world. He had one
cow-buffalo and this he always grazed at night, for fear that the sun
might melt it. Once it happened that as he was following his buffalo,
he got buried in its droppings and he was so small that he could not
get out.

However, next morning, some girls, who were gathering cowdung for
fuel, found him and set him free. Spanling decided to get rid of the
buffalo after this; so he killed it and flayed it and when the skin was
dry, took it away to sell. Before he found a purchaser night came on,
so he climbed a tree with his hide to be out of danger. During the
night a gang of thieves came to the tree, and began to divide their
booty. While there were busy over this, Spanling let the hide fall with
a clatter [190]into their midst, and they all ran away in a
fright, leaving all their stolen goods behind.

When day dawned, Spanling climbed down and found piles of gold
waiting for him. He took it home and sent his mother to borrow a wooden
measure from his uncles to measure it with. When he returned the
measure, one of the gold pieces was left sticking in a crack. His
uncles at once hastened to enquire how he came to be measuring gold.
Spanling told them that he had sold his buffalo skin at a town which he
named, for an enormous price and no doubt they could find the same
market, if they chose to kill their buffaloes. The uncles hurried home
and killed all their buffaloes and took the hides to the city, which
Spanling had named, but they were only laughed at when they asked more
than the price which was paid every day for hides. The uncles came home
very angry at the way in which they had been tricked by Spanling, and
in revenge they burnt his house down. Finding himself homeless,
Spanling gathered the ashes of his house into sacks, loaded them on a
cart and drove away. When evening came he camped by the roadside in
company with some other carters and, in the middle of the night, he
quietly changed his sacks of ashes for some of the sacks in the other
carts. When he got home he found that the sacks which he had stolen
were full of gold coins. He again sent to his uncles for a measure and
when the measure was returned a gold coin was again left sticking in a
crack. The uncles at once came to enquire how Spanling had got the
money. He told them that he had sold the ashes of his house for gold
and, as their houses were bigger than his, they would doubtless make
their fortunes if they burnt them down and sold the ashes. The uncles
took his advice but when they tried to sell the ashes they were only
laughed at for their pains. [191]

[Contents]

LXIII. The Silent Wife.

There was once a madcap of a fellow, whose wife got on very well
with him and did all the house work very nicely, but she would never
speak a single word to him. As nothing he tried would make her speak,
the madcap at last hit on a plan of taking her on a long journey. But
even when he told his wife that she must come with him to a far
country, she did not utter a word. When all was ready for a start the
madcap bathed his feet and took a lota of water into the house
and pouring it out, prayed to the spirit of his grandfather thus
“Grandfather, grant that my wife may speak; if you do not fail me
in this, I will make offerings to you on my return; grant that we may
come back together happily; teach her to speak to me soon.”

Then he set out with his wife and they travelled on until they
entered a dense forest, where there was no sign of human habitation. As
they went on, the tailor birds and babblers began to chatter and scream
at them. The madcap got angry at this and called out to the birds that
if they did not stop, he would chase them and go on chasing them for a
day and a night. Then he sat down and watched them. His wife stood
waiting by his side, and soon she began to wonder what she would do and
where she would go, if her husband really went in chase of the birds.
So at last she spoke to him and said “Come, get up; we must make
haste out of this jungle.” Directly the words were out of her
mouth, the madcap knelt down and bowing to the ground said “I
thank you, Grandfather”. Then he rose and went on with his
wife.

Presently they met a bear; the madcap called out “You brute of
a bear, what do you mean by coming to meet us like this? I will chase
you and go on [192]chasing you till to-morrow morning.” But
his wife besought him to come along and not leave her. Directly she
spoke, the madcap cried “Bravo” and kneeling down thanked
his grandfather. They went on and presently a jackal crossed their
path; the madcap cursed it and vowed that he would chase it all the
night. Again his wife urged him to come on and again the madcap knelt
down and thanked his grandfather; but his wife did not know why he did
so, nor did she trouble to ask.

Just as they reached the edge of the forest they saw a leopard and
this also the madcap threatened to chase. “Then go and chase
it,” said his wife, who now felt safe. So he went in pursuit of
the leopard, but after going a little way he lost sight of it and went
back to where his wife was. “What has become of all your
boasting?” said she. “You have not chased it till to-morrow
morning.” “No,” said the madcap “I have killed
it; if you don’t believe me, come and see.” But she did not
want to go back into the jungle and said no more about it. As his wife
had broken her silence the madcap saw no use in going further and they
turned homewards; all the way his wife went on chatting and singing
along with him. When he reached home he sacrificed a number of goats to
his grandfather, and lived happily with his wife ever after.

[Contents]

LXIV. The Dumb Shepherd.

There was once a very rich and powerful Raja and in his heart he
thought that there was no one so powerful in the world as himself; thus
he thought but he told no one of his thought. One day he made up his
mind to see whether others could guess what he was thinking, so he
called together his officers and servants and dependants and bade them
tell him what thought was in [193]his heart. Many of them made
guesses, but not one gave an answer which satisfied the Raja.

Then the Raja told his dewan that he must without fail find some one
who would, guess his thought, and he gave the dewan exactly one
month’s time in which to search. The dewan searched high and low
but all in vain, and as the time drew near he grew more and more
anxious, for he feared that he would fall into disgrace. But he had a
daughter and she consoled him and told him to cheer up, as she would
find a man on the day fixed to read the Raja’s thoughts. The
dewan had to take what comfort he could from this promise, and when the
appointed day arrived, his daughter brought a dumb shepherd whom they
employed and bade her father take him to the Raja. The dewan thought it
very unlikely that the dumb shepherd would succeed where others had
failed, but he saw no alternative to following his daughter’s
advice.

So the dewan presented himself before the Raja with the dumb
shepherd and found a large company assembled to see what happened. The
two stood before the Raja and the dumb man looked at the Raja. Then the
Raja held up one finger, at this the dumb shepherd held up two fingers.
Then the Raja held up three fingers, but at this the dumb man made
signs of dissent and ran away as fast as he could. Then the Raja
laughed and seemed very pleased and praised the dewan for having
brought him such a clever man, and gave the dewan a rich reward.

The dewan was still at a loss to know what had happened, and begged
the Raja to explain what had passed between him and the shepherd.
“When I held up one finger,” said the Raja “I asked
him whether I alone was Raja, and he by holding up two reminded me that
there was God, who was as powerful as I am. Then I asked him whether
there was any third, and he [194]vehemently denied that there was.
Thus he has read my thoughts, for I have always been thinking that I
alone am powerful, but he has reminded me that there is God as well,
but no third.”

Then they all went their ways, and that night the dewan questioned
the dumb shepherd as to how he had been able to understand the Raja:
and the dumb man explained “I have only three sheep of my own,
and when I appeared before the Raja he held up one finger, meaning that
he wanted me to give him one of my sheep, and as he is a great Raja I
offered to give him two; but when he held up three ringers to show that
he wanted to take all three from me, I thought that he was going too
far and so I ran away.”

By this lucky chance the dewan earned his reward from the Raja.

[Contents]

LXV. The Good Daughter-in-Law.

There was once a very rich man who had seven sons and the sons were
all married and lived with their father. The father was a miser: he
lived in the poorest manner in spite of all his wealth and hoarded all
his money. His eldest daughter-in-law managed the household and she
alone of the family did not approve of the miserly way in which the
family affairs were conducted.

One day a Jugi came to the house and asked for alms. The eldest
daughter-in-law happened to be away at the time, fetching water from
the stream. Those of the family who were at home flatly declined to
give the poor beggar anything and turned him away from the house. So
the Jugi went away, cursing them for their miserliness. On his way he
met the eldest daughter-in-law coming back with her jar of water and
she asked the Jugi why he seemed so angry. When she heard how he had
been treated, she at once besought him to [195]return to the house
and explained that she was the housekeeper and that that was the reason
why none of the others had ventured to give him alms.

The Jugi returned with her and she gave him a seer of rice to
put in his bag. At first the Jugi refused to take it, on the ground
that she was only giving it for fear of his curses but she assured him
that she never refused alms to anyone who begged. So the Jugi took the
rice and then asked what boon she would accept in return. The woman at
first said that she was in want of nothing, but, on the Jugi pressing
her, she said that she would like to be able to understand the language
of birds and beasts and to see the disembodied souls of men. Then the
Jugi took a feather from his bag and drew it across her eyes and blew
into her eyes and ears and she found herself possessed of the powers
for which she had asked. But before he left, the Jugi told her that she
must never reveal to any human being the boon he had conferred on her,
for if she did she would die.

Years passed and nothing happened but then it chanced that a Chamar
who lived at the end of the village died, and as he had been a good and
kind man his family wept bitterly at their loss. The woman saw the
spirit of the Chamar being taken away in a grand chariot and she also
wept for the death of so good a man. Her family became very suspicious
at her showing sorrow for the death of a stranger of another caste.

A few days later the miserly father-in-law died and the woman saw
three beings dragging him out of the house by his heels, and she
laughed to see him treated so for his sins. But the family were shocked
by her laughter and concluded that she was a witch and had killed her
father-in-law by her witchcraft; so after the funeral they held a
family council and called on the woman to explain why she had laughed.
She assured them that if she told she would die, but they insisted
[196]and at last she told them of the boon conferred
on her by the Jugi, and what she had seen, and then she lay down upon
her bed and died.

[Contents]

LXVI. The Raja’s Dream.

Once upon a time there was a Raja who had no children. So he and his
wife agreed that he should marry again. His second wife bore him two
sons, and they were very pleased that the Raja should have heirs and
all lived happily together. But after the two sons had been born, the
elder Rani also gave birth to a son. This caused discord in the family,
for the younger Rani had counted on her sons succeeding to the Raja,
but now she feared that the son of the elder Rani would be preferred.
So she went to the Raja and besought him to send away the elder Rani
and her son. The Raja listened to her and gave the first wife a
separate estate and a separate house and sent them away.

Time passed and one night the Raja had a dream, the meaning of which
he could not understand; he dreamt that he saw a golden leopard and a
golden snake and a golden monkey dancing together. The Raja could not
rest until he had found out the meaning of the dream, so he sent for
his younger wife and her two sons and consulted them. They could give
no explanation, but the younger son said that he had a presentiment
that his brother, the son of the elder Rani, could interpret the dream.
So that son was sent for, and when he appeared before his father and
heard the story of the dream, he said “This is the
interpretation: the three golden animals represent us three brothers,
for we are like gold to you. Thakur has sent this dream in order that
we may not fight hereafter; we cannot all three succeed to the Raj and
we shall assuredly fight if one is not chosen as the heir. It is
intended that whichever of us can find a [197]golden leopard, and a
golden snake and a golden monkey and make them dance before the people,
he is your principal son and shall be your heir,” The Raja was
pleased with this interpretation and told his three sons that he would
give the Raj to whichever of them could find the three animals by that
day year.

The sons of the younger Rani went away, feeling that it was useless
for them to make any attempt to fulfil the conditions; even if they got
a goldsmith to make the animals, they would never be able to make them
dance.

But the other brother went to his mother and told her all that had
happened, and she bade him be of good courage and he would find the
animals; if he went to a Gosain who lived in the jungle, he would be
told what to do.

So the Raja’s son set out, and after travelling for some days
he found himself benighted in a dense jungle. Wandering about, he at
last saw a fire burning in the distance, so he went to it and sat down
by it and began to smoke. Now the Gosain was sleeping near by and the
smell of the smoke awoke him, and he rose and asked who was there.

“O uncle, it is I.”

“Really, is it you my nephew? Where have you come from so late
at night?”

“From home, uncle.”

“What has brought me to your memory now? You have never paid
me a visit before. I am afraid that something has happened.”

“You need not fear that, I have come to you because my mother
tells me that you can help me to find the golden leopard and the golden
snake and the golden monkey.”

At this the Gosain promised to help the Raja’s son to find the
animals and then put the cooking-pot on the fire to boil; and in it he
put only three grains of rice, but [198]when it was cooked, they
found that there was enough to make a meal of. When they had eaten, the
Gosain said “Nephew, I cannot tell you what you have to do; but
further in the jungle lives my younger brother: go to him and he will
tell you.”

So when it was morning the Raja’s son set out, and in two days
he reached the second Gosain and told him of his quest. The Gosain
listened to his story and put the cooking-pot on to boil and in it
threw two grains of rice, and this, when cooked, was sufficient for a
good meal. After they had eaten, the Gosain said that he could not tell
how the animals were to be found, but that he had a still younger
brother who could tell. So the next morning the Raja’s son
continued his journey, and in two or three days he came to the third
Gosain and there he learnt what was to be done. This Gosain also put
the pot on to boil but in the pot he only put one grain of rice and a
bit of a grain, yet when cooked it was enough for a meal.

In the morning the Gosain told the Raja’s son to go to a
blacksmith and have a shield made of twelve maunds of iron and with its
edge so sharp that a leaf falling on it would be cut in two. So he went
to the blacksmith and had a shield made, and took it to the Gosain. The
Gosain said that they must test it, and he set it edgewise in the
ground under a tree and told the Raja’s son to climb the tree and
shake some leaves down. The Raja’s son climbed the tree and shook
the branches, but not a leaf fell. Then the Gosain climbed up and gave
the tree a shake and the leaves fell in showers and every leaf that
touched the edge of the shield was cut in two. Then the Gosain was
satisfied that the shield was rightly made.

Then the Gosain told the Raja’s son, that further on in the
jungle he would find a pair of snakes living in a bamboo house; and
they had a daughter whom they [199]never allowed to come out of
the house; he must fix the sharp shield in the door of the house and
hide himself in a tree, and when the snakes came out they would be cut
to pieces; then, when the snakes were dead, he was to go to their
daughter and she would show him where to find the golden animals. So
the Raja’s son set out and about noon he came to the home of the
snakes, and he set the shield in the doorway as the Gosain had said,
and at evening, when the snakes tried to come out of the house, they
were cut to pieces. When her father and mother were dead, the daughter
came out to see what had happened, and the Raja’s son saw that
she was very beautiful. He went to her and began to talk and it did not
take them long to fall in love with each other. The snake maiden soon
forgot her father and mother, and she and the Raja’s son lived
together in the bamboo house many days.

The snake maiden strictly forebade him to go anywhere to the west or
south of the house, but one day he disobeyed her and wandered away to
the west. After going a short distance he saw golden leopards dancing,
and directly he set eyes on them, he himself was changed into a golden
leopard and began to dance with the others. The snake maiden soon knew
what had happened, and she followed him and led him back and restored
him to his own shape.

A few days later, the Raja’s son went away to the south and
there he found golden snakes dancing on the bank of a tank and directly
he saw them, he too became a golden snake and joined the dance. Again
the snake maiden fetched him back and restored him to his own form. But
again the Raja’s son went out to the south-west and there he saw
golden monkeys dancing under a banyan tree, and when he saw them he
became a golden monkey; again the snake maiden brought him back and
restored him to human shape. [200]

After this the Raja’s son said that it was time for him to go
back home. The snake maiden asked why he had come there at all, and
then he told her all about the Raja’s dream and said that as he
had found the animals he would now go home.

“Kill me first” said the snake maiden; “you have
killed my parents and I cannot live alone here.” “No, I
will not kill you, I will take you with me” answered the
Raja’s son, and the snake maiden gladly agreed. Then the
Raja’s son asked how he was to take the golden animals with him,
for so far he had only seen where they were. The snake maiden said that
if he faithfully promised never to desert her, nor take another wife,
she would produce the animals for him when the time came. So he swore
never to leave her and they set out for his home.

When they reached the place where the third Gosain lived, the
Raja’s son said that he had promised to visit the Gosain on his
homeward journey and show him the golden animals; but he did not know
what to do, as he had not got the animals with him. Then the snake
maiden tied three knots in his cloth and bade him untie them when the
Gosain asked to see the animals. So the Raja’s son went to see
the Gosain, and the Gosain asked whether he had brought the golden
leopard and snake and monkey.

“I am not sure” answered the other, “but I have
something tied up in my cloth,” and he untied the three knots and
found in them a clod of earth, a potsherd and a piece of charcoal. He
threw them away and went back to the snake maiden, and asked why she
had put worthless rubbish in his cloth. “You had no faith”
said she “if you had believed, the animals would not have turned
into the clod and the potsherd and the charcoal.” So they
journeyed on, till they came to the second Gosain, and he also asked to
see the golden [201]animals and this time the Raja’s son set
his mind hard to believe and, when he untied the knots, there were a
golden leopard and a golden snake and a golden monkey. Then they went
on and showed the animals to the first Gosain, and then went to the
house where his mother lived.

When the appointed day came, the Raja’s son sent word to his
father to have a number of booths and shelters erected in a spacious
plain, and to have a covered way made from his mother’s house to
the plain, and then he would show the dancing animals. So the Raja gave
the necessary orders, and on the day fixed all the people assembled to
see the fun. Then the Raja’s son set the three animals on the
ground and his wife remained hidden in the covered way and caused the
animals to dance. The people stayed watching all day till evening and
then dispersed, That night all the booths and shelters which had been
erected were changed into houses of gold; and when he saw this, the
Raja left his younger wife and her children and went and lived with his
first wife.

[Contents]

LXVII. The Mongoose Boy.

Once upon a time there was a Raja who had two wives. By his first
wife he had six sons, but the second wife bore only one son and he was
born as a mongoose. When the six sons of the elder wife grew up, they
used to jeer at their mongoose brother and his mother, so the Raja sent
his second wife to live in a separate house. The Mongoose boy could
talk like any man but he never grew bigger than an ordinary mongoose
and his name was Lelsing.

One day the Raja called all his sons to him and said that he wished,
before he died, to divide his property among them. But the sons said
that they had rather he did not do so then; they wished to go abroad
and [202]see the world, and if he would give each of them
some capital to start, with, they would go abroad and trade and even if
they did not make much profit they would have the advantage of seeing
the world.

So the Raja gave his six sons twenty rupees each to start business
with; but when Lelsing also asked for some money, his brothers jeered
at him and declared that he certainly could not go with them, for he
would only get eaten up by some dog. Lelsing made no answer at the time
but afterwards he went to his father alone and begged again for some
money. At last the Raja, though he scarcely believed that Lelsing would
really go out trading, gave him ten rupees.

The six brothers made everything ready and one morning set out on
their travels, without saying anything to Lelsing. But Lelsing saw them
start and followed after them, and as the brothers were resting in the
middle of the day they looked back and saw Lelsing galloping along to
overtake them. So they all travelled together for three or four days,
till they came to a great jungle and camped on its outskirts. There
they debated how long they should stay away from home and they decided
that they would trade for six months and then go back.

The next morning they entered the jungle, and as they travelled
through it, the six brothers managed to give Lelsing the slip, so that
when they came out of the forest they found themselves at Nilam bazar,
but Lelsing after wandering about for some time came out at Sujan
bazar.

The six brothers bought sun-horses at Nilam bazar, and began to
trade. But Lelsing at Sujan bazar looked about for someone who would
engage him as a servant. No one would employ a mongoose, and Lelsing
was in despair, for he had very little money. At last he began to
enquire whether anyone would sell him a cheap horse, and learnt that
the horse market was at Nilam bazar; [203]so he went to Nilam
bazar and there found his brothers trading, but he did not make himself
known to them. He tried to buy a horse but they were all too highly
priced for him, so at last he had to be content with buying a donkey
for three rupees and some articles to trade with.

When the six months expired, the brothers went home; and a little
after them came Lelsing, leading his donkey, his brothers laughed at
him but the Raja did not laugh; and Lelsing showed his father and
mother what profits he had made by his trading, which his brothers
declined to do. The Raja was pleased with Lelsing for this and declared
that, in spite of his shape, he was a man and a Raja. It only made his
brothers more angry with him to hear Lelsing praised.

Two or three years later there was a famine in the land. Lelsing
foresaw it and he dug a large hole in the floor of his house and buried
in it all the grain on which he could lay his hand. The famine grew
severe, but Lelsing and his mother always had enough to eat from their
private store. But his brothers were starving and their children cried
from want of food. Lelsing had pity on them and sent his mother with
some rice for them to eat. The Raja and his sons were amazed that
Lelsing should have rice to give away, and they went to his house to
see how much he had; but they found the house apparently empty, for
they did not know of the store buried in the ground. Puzzled and
jealous the brothers made up their minds to burn down Lelsing’s
house. So one night they set fire to it, and it was burnt to ashes: the
store buried in the ground was however uninjured.

Lelsing put the ashes of his house into sacks and, loading them on
his donkey, set out to sell them. As he found no buyers, he rested for
the night under a tree by the road side. Presently a band of merchants
[204]with well loaded pack-bullocks came to the
place. “You must not camp here” called out Lelsing to them
“I have two sacks of gold coin here and you may take an
opportunity to steal them. If you are honest men, you will go to a
distance.” So the merchants camped a little way off, but in the
middle of the night they came and carried off Lelsing’s sacks,
leaving two of their own in their place, and hurried on their way. In
the morning Lelsing made haste to carry home the sacks which had been
changed, and when he came to open them he found them full of rice and
rupees. He sent his mother to borrow a measure from his brothers with
which to measure the rupees; and when he returned it, he sent it to
them full of rupees.

His brothers came running to know where he had found so much money.
“I got it by selling the ashes of my house” said Lelsing
“and it is a pity that I had only one house; if I had had more
houses, I should have had more ashes, and should have got more money
still.” On hearing this the brothers at once made up their mind
to burn their own houses, and take the ashes for sale. But when they
did so and took the ashes for sale from village to village they were
only laughed at for their pains, and in the end had to throw away the
ashes and come back empty handed. They were very angry at the trick
which Lelsing had played on them and decided to kill him and his
mother; but when they went to the house to do the murder, Lelsing
happened to be away from home and so they were only able to kill his
mother.

When Lelsing came home he found his mother lying dead. He placed the
body on his donkey and carried it off to burn it on the banks of the
Ganges. As he went, he saw a large herd of pack bullocks coming along
the road. He quickly propped the body of his mother against a tree
which grew by the road and himself [205]climbed into its branches,
and when the bullocks came up he began to call out “Take care,
take care: you will have my sick mother trampled to death.” But
the drivers were too far behind to hear what he said. When they came
up, he climbed down from the tree and charged them with having allowed
their bullocks to kill his mother. The drivers had no wish to face a
charge of murder; and in the end, to secure their release, they made
over to Lelsing all their bullocks, with the merchandise which they
were carrying.

Lelsing threw his mother’s corpse into some bushes, and drove
the laden bullocks home. Naturally his brothers wanted to know where he
had got such wealth from, and he explained that it was by selling the
dead body of his mother and he was sorry that he had only one to
dispose of. At once his brothers went and killed all their wives, and
took the corpses away to sell; but no one would buy and they had to
return disappointed.

Another trick that Lelsing played his brothers was this: he used to
mix rupees in the food he gave his donkey, and these passed out in the
droppings; and Lelsing took care that his brothers should know of it.
They found no rupees in the dung of their horses, and consulted Lelsing
as to the reason why. He told them that if they gave their horses a
blow with an axe while they ate their grain, they would find rupees in
the dung. The brothers did as they were advised, but the only result
was that they killed all their horses.

More and more angry, the brothers resolved to kill Lelsing by guile.
So they went to him and said that they had found a wife for him, and
would take him to be married. When the procession was ready, Lelsing
got into a palki. His brothers made the doors of the palki fast and
carried him off towards a deep river, into which they meant to throw
him, palki and all.

When they reached the river, they put the palki down [206]and
went to look for a suitably deep pool. Lelsing found that he was
outwitted, and began to weep and wail. Just then a shepherd came by,
driving a flock of sheep and asked what was the matter. Lelsing cried
out that they were going to marry him against his will, but that anyone
who would take his place in the palki could marry his bride. The
shepherd thought that this would be a great opportunity to get a wife
without spending any money on the marriage, and readily changed places
with Lelsing, who drove away the flock of sheep. The brothers soon came
back and, picking up the paiki, threw it into the river and went home,
thinking that they had at last got rid of Lelsing.

But four or five days later Lelsing appeared, driving a large flock
of sheep. His brothers asked him, in amazement where he had come from,
“You threw me” said Lelsing “into a shallow pool of
the river where there were only sheep, but in the deeper parts there
are cattle and buffaloes as well. I can take you to fetch some of them
if you like. You take your palkis to the bank of the river,—for I
cannot carry you all—and then shut yourselves inside and I will
push you into the water.” So the brothers took their palkis to
the river side and shut themselves in, and each called out “Let
me have the deepest place, brother.” Then Lelsing pushed them in
one by one and they were all drowned. Then he went home rejoicing at
the revenge which he had taken for their ill treatment of him.

[Contents]

LXVIII. The Stolen Treasure.

Once upon a time three jars full of money were stolen from a
Raja’s palace. As all search was fruitless the Raja at last gave
notice that, whoever could find them, should receive one half of the
money. The offer brought all the jans and ojhas in the
country to try [207]their hand, but not one of them could find the
treasure.

The fact was that the money had been stolen by two of the
Raja’s own servants and it fell to the duty of these same two men
to entertain the ojhas who came to try and find the money. Thus
they were able to keep watch and see whether any of them got on the
right track.

Not far from the Raja’s city lived a certain tricky fellow.
From his boyhood he had always been up to strange pranks, and he had
married the daughter of a rich village headman. At the time that the
Raja’s money was stolen his wife was on a visit to her father,
and after she had been some time away, he went to fetch her home.
However, on his way, he stopped to have a flirtation with a girl he
knew in the village and the result was that he did not get to his
father-in-law’s house till long after dark. As he stood outside
he heard his wife’s relations talking inside, and from their
conversation he learnt that they had killed a capon for supper, and
that there was enough for each of them to have three slices of capon
and five pieces of the vegetable which was cooked with it.

Having learnt this he opened the door and went in. The household was
amazed at his arriving so late at night but he explained that he had
dreamt that they had killed a capon and were having a feast: and that
there was enough for them each to have three slices of capon and five
pieces of vegetable, so he had come to have a share. At this his
father-in-law could do nothing but have another fowl killed and give
him supper; he was naturally astonished at the Trickster’s powers
of dreaming and insisted that he must certainly go and try his luck at
finding the Raja’s stolen money.

The Trickster was taken aback at this, but there was no getting out
of it; so the next morning he set out with his father-in-law to the
Raja’s palace. When they arrived they were placed in charge of
the two guilty [208]servants, who offered them refreshments of curds
and parched rice. As he was washing his hands after eating, the
Trickster ejaculated, “Find or fail I have at any rate had a
square meal,” Now the two servants were named Find and Fail and
when they heard what the Trickster said, they thought he was speaking
of them, and had by some magic already found out that they were the
thieves.

This threw them into consternation, and they took the Trickster
aside and begged him not to tell the Raja that they were the thieves.
He asked where they had put the money, and they told him that they had
hidden it in the sand by the river. Then he promised not to reveal
their guilt, if they would show him where to find the money when the
time came. They gladly promised and took him to the Raja. The Trickster
pretended to read an incantation over some mustard seed, and then
taking a bamboo went along tapping the ground with it. He refused to
have a crowd with him, because they would spoil the spell, but Find and
Fail followed behind him and showed him where to go. So he soon found
the jars of money and took them to the Raja, who according to his
promise gave him half their contents.

[Contents]

LXIX. Dukhu and His Bonga Wife.

Once upon a time there was a man named Bhagrit who had two sons
named Lukhu and Dukhu; and Lukhu used to work in the fields, while
Dukhu herded the buffaloes. In summer Dukhu used to take his buffaloes
to drink and rest at a pool in the bed of a dry river.

Now in the pool lived a bonga girl and she fell in love with
Dukhu. So one day as he was sitting on the bank she appeared to him in
the guise of a human maiden. She went up to him and began to talk, and
soon they [209]became great friends and agreed to meet at the
same place every day. As the girl was beautiful Dukhu fell deeply in
love with her and resolved to marry her, not knowing that she was a
bonga. One day the bonga-girl asked Dukhu to come home
with her to dinner, as he had stayed too late to go to his own house;
but he said he was too shy to do so, as her parents knew nothing about
him. The bonga-girl said “Oh no, I have told my people all
about our love, but if you won’t come with me, stay here till I
fetch you some rice; it is too late for you to go home now; by the time
you come back, the buffaloes will have wandered off for their afternoon
grazing.” So Dukhu agreed to wait while she brought the rice, and
she got up and moved away and disappeared behind some bushes, but a
minute later Dukhu saw her come smiling towards him with a pot of rice
on her head; though how she had fetched it so quickly he could not make
out. She came to him and put it down and told him to wash his hands and
come and eat his dinner. Dukhu asked her whether she had had her own
dinner and she said that she would go back and have that later. Then he
proposed that she should eat part of what she had brought; and she said
that she would do so, if he did not want it all. Dukhu resolved to test
her, for it would be a proof of true love, if she ate what he left
over. So after eating half the rice he said that he was satisfied and
when she found that Dukhu would eat no more she took what was left;
then he was satisfied that she really loved him and they began to talk
of getting married, and he told her that there would be no difficulty
about it, as his elder brother Lukhu was already married.

Then Dukhu asked the bonga to take him to her house to see
her parents, so one day she led him into the pool and as he went in,
the water never came [210]above his ankles; and somehow they passed
along a broad road until they came to the bonga girl’s
house, and this was full of tigers and leopards and snakes. At the
sight of them Dukhu was too frightened to speak; the bonga said
that she would not let them touch him and offered him a large coiled-up
snake to sit on; but he would not sit down till she came and sat by his
side. Then the bonga father and mother asked their daughter
whether this was her husband, and when she said “yes” they
came and made obeisance to him.

After they had had their dinner she took him back and he knew that
she was a bonga; but still he could not give her up. After this
the bonga girl brought Dukhu his dinner every day on the bank of
the river, and he never went home for his midday-meal at all. His
brother’s wife asked him why he did not come home and he said
that he did not get hungry and was content with some buffalo’s
milk; but she did not believe him and resolved to watch and see who
brought him his dinner, but though she went and watched every day she
only saw him sitting alone, and the bonga girl was invisible to
her. But one day she saw him disappear into the pool, and come out
again.

When she told this at home, Dukhu’s father, Bhagrit, got very
angry and decided to find out who made Dukhu disappear into the pool.
He resolved to bale out the water and find out what was at the bottom.
So he sent for men with baling baskets and began to divide off the
water with dams, but out of the water a voice was heard,
singing;—

“Do not dam the water, father,

Do not dam the water, father,

Your daughter-in-law, the Ginduri fish is
dying.”

At this sound the workmen were frightened and [211]stopped; but Bhagrit made them go on, saying
that whatever happened should be on his head. And when the dams were
finished, they began to bale out the water; thereupon a voice
sang:—

“Do not bale the water, father,

Do not bale the water, father.

Your daughter-in-law, the Ginduri fish is
dying.”

But they paid no attention and baled the water dry, and at the
bottom of the pool they found an enormous fish, for the bonga
girl had turned into a fish. And they went to kill it, but the fish
sang:—

“Do not hit me, father,

Do not hit me, father,

Your daughter-in-law, the Ginduri fish is
dying.”

Nevertheless they killed it and dragged it on to the bank. Then they
began to cut it up, and as they did so, it sang:—

“Do not cut me, father,

Do not cut me, father,

Your daughter-in-law, the Ginduri fish, is
dying.”

Nevertheless they cut it up, and Bhagrit divided the pieces among
the workmen, but they were too frightened to take any and preferred to
take the smaller fishes as their share. So he told Lukhu’s wife
to take up the pieces and wash them: and as she did so the song was
heard:—

“Do not wash me, sister,

Do not wash me, sister,

The Ginduri fish is dying.”

And she was very frightened, but her father made her wash them and
then they took home the pieces and lit a fire and ground spices and
turmeric and heated [212]oil and made ready to cook the fish. Then
the fish sang again:—

“Do not cook me, sister,

Do not cook me, sister,

The Ginduri fish, sister, is dying.’

But she nevertheless put the pieces into the pot to boil, when lo
and behold, out of the pot jumped the pretty bonga girl. Then
Bhagrit said to his neighbours.—“You see by my persistence
I have got a daughter-in-law”—and she was duly married to
Dukhu. At the wedding the bonga girl said “Listen, Father
and all of you: I tell you and I tell my husband—however much we
quarrel let not my husband strike me on the head, let him beat me on
the body, I shall not mind; but on the day that he hits me on the head:
I shall depart for good.”

After the marriage the family became very prosperous and their crops
flourished and every one liked the bonga girl; but between her
and her husband there were constant quarrels and their friends could
not stop them. One day it happened that Dukhu smacked her on the head.
Then the bonga girl began to cry and called her father-in-law
and mother-in-law and said “Father, listen, the father of your
grandson has turned me out, you must do your work yourselves
to-day;” then she took her child on her hip and left the house;
and they ran after her and begged her to return, but she would not
heed; and they tried to snatch the child from her but she would not
give it up, and went away and was seen no more.

[Contents]

LXX. The Monkey Husband.

One very hot day some children were bathing in a pool, when a
Hanuman monkey snatched up the cloth [213]which one of the
girls had left on the bank and ran up a tree with it. When the children
came out of the water and went to take up their clothes, they found one
missing, and looking about, they saw the monkey in the tree with it.
They begged the Hanuman to give it back, but the monkey only
said—“I will not give it unless its owner consents to marry
me.”—Then they began to throw sticks and stones at him but
he climbed to the top of the tree out of the way.

Then they ran and told the parents of the girl whose cloth had been
stolen; and they called their neighbours and went with bows and arrows
and threatened to shoot the monkey if he did not give up the cloth, but
he still said that he would not, unless the girl would marry him. Then
they shot all their arrows at him but not one of them hit him; then the
neighbours said. “This child is fated to belong to the monkey and
that is why we cannot hit him.” Then the girl’s father and
mother began to cry and sang:—

“Give the girl her cloth,

Her silk cloth, monkey boy,”

and he answered

“If she consents to marry me I will give it:

If she consents I will put it in her hand.”

And as he did not listen to the father and mother, her
father’s younger brother and his wife sang the same song, but in
vain; and then the girl herself begged for it, and thereupon the monkey
let down one end of the cloth to her; and when she caught hold of it,
he pulled her up into the tree, and there made her put on her cloth and
ran off with her on his back.

The girl was quite willing to go with him and called out as she was
carried away: “Never mind, father and mother, I am going
away.” The Hanuman took her to a cave in the mountains and they
lived on fruit,—mangoes [214]or jack or whatever fruit was
in season. The monkey climbed the trees and shook the fruit down; but
if the girl saw by the marks of teeth that the monkey had bitten off
any fruit, instead of only shaking it down, she would not eat it, and
pretended that she had had enough; for she would not eat the leavings
of the monkey.

At last the girl got tired of having only fruit to eat; and demanded
rice. So the monkey took her to a bazar, and leaving her on the
outskirts of the village under a tree, he went and stole some pots from
a potter and rice and salt and turmeric and pulse and sweetmeats from
other shops, and brought them to the girl. Then she collected sticks
and lit a fire and cooked a meal; and the monkey liked the cooked food,
and asked her to cook for him every day. So they stayed there several
days. Then the girl asked for more clothes and the monkey tried to
steal them too, but the shopkeepers were on the watch and drove him
away.

The girl soon got tired of sleeping under a tree so they went back
to the cave and the monkey gathered mangoes and jackfruit and told her
to go and sell them in the market and then she would be able to buy
cloth. But when she had sold the fruit, she stayed in the village and
took service with a well-to-do shopkeeper, and never returned to the
monkey. The monkey watched for her and searched for her in vain, and
returned sorrowfully to his hill; but the girl stayed on in the village
and eventually married one of the villagers.

[Contents]

LXXI. Lakhan and the Wild Buffaloes.

Once upon a time there was the only son of a widow, who used to tend
the sheep and goats of a Raja and his name was Lakhan. One day he
harnessed one of the goats to a plough and ploughed up a piece of high
land and sowed hemp there. The crop grew finely, but [215]one
night a herd of wild buffaloes came and ate it all up; at this Lakhan
resolved to pursue the buffaloes and shoot them.

His mother did all she could to dissuade him but he made up a bundle
of provisions, and set off on his journey with a stick, and a bow and
arrows, and a flute made of the castor oil plant. He tracked the
buffaloes for some days and one evening he came to the house of an old
witch (hutibudhi) and he went up to it and asked the witch if he might
sleep there. She answered “My house is rough and dirty, but you
can choose a corner to sleep in; I can give you nothing more, as I have
not a morsel of food in the house.” “Then,” said he,
“I must go to bed hungry” and he lay down supperless.

In the middle of the night the witch began to gnaw at Lakhan’s
bow and he heard her gnawing and called out “What are you
munching? Give me at bit,” but she answered that it was only a
little pulse which she had gleaned from the fields and she had finished
it. So Lakhan said no more; but during the night the witch bit his bow
to pieces and when he saw this in the morning, he was very unhappy; for
it was useless to find the bison, if he had nothing to shoot them
with.

So he went home and had an iron bow and arrows made by a blacksmith,
and then started off again. As before he came to the witch’s
house and arranged to sleep there; and in the night the witch tried to
bite the bow to pieces, and Lakhan heard her crunching it and asked her
what she was eating: she said it was only a little grain which she had
gleaned. In the morning he found the bow all right, but the
witch’s jaws were badly swollen. Lakhan laughed at her and asked
what was the matter and she said that she had toothache.

So Lakhan went on his way rejoicing and at last reached the place
where the wild buffaloes rested at [216]night; he waited there and
while he waited he swept away all the droppings and made the place
clean, and then climbed up into a tree. At evening great herds of
buffaloes came to the place and they were so many that Lakhan was
afraid to shoot. So he stayed there, and every day he used to sweep the
place clean, while the buffaloes were away, and at night time hid
himself in the tree.

The buffaloes determined to find out who their benefactor was, and
they chose an old cow to stay behind and watch. The next day the old
cow pretended that she was too weak to rise, and was left behind when
the herd went out to graze. Lakhan thought that she was too old to do
him any harm, so, although she was there, he got down from the tree and
cleaned up the place as usual, and even swept quite close up to the old
cow buffalo. In the evening the other buffaloes came back and the old
cow told them that it was a human being who swept their resting place
clean; and when they promised not to hurt him, she pointed out the tree
where Lakhan was. Then the buffaloes told him to come down and swore
not to kill him but to support him and keep him as their servant. They
told him to make a leaf bowl and they filled this with their milk, as
much as he could drink, and they arranged that he should stay at the
sleeping place and keep it clean, and when he wanted milk he was to
play on his flute and they would come at the sound.

So every noon he used to blow the flute and the cows came, running
and gave him more milk than he wanted so that he used even to bathe
himself in milk, and this made his hair grow very long.

One day a parrot belonging to a Raja saw him drying his long hair in
the sun and the parrot went to the Raja and told him that he had found
a husband for the Raja’s daughter, with beautiful long hair; but
that no one could [217]go near where he lived because of the wild
buffaloes; however the parrot undertook to bring him with the help of a
tame crow of the Raja’s: so the crow and the parrot flew off to
the jungle, and they decided that the best way to entice Lakhan away,
was to carry off his flute. So when the cows gave him milk at noon and
he put down his flute, the crow seized it in his beak and flew away to
the top of a tree. When Lakhan missed the flute and saw the crow with
it, he began to throw stones but the crow flew off with it, keeping
just out of range; the crow flew from tree to tree and seemed to be
always just about to drop the flute and in this way enticed Lakhan on,
till they came to the Raja’s palace and Lakhan followed the crow
right inside and they shut the door on him and made him marry the
princess.

After some time his wife’s brothers began to talk rudely about
him saying “I suppose this fellow is some poor orphan, without
any relations” and when Lakhan heard this he said that if they
wanted to see his cattle and buffaloes they must make a yard for them.
So the Raja gave orders for a large cattle yard to be made, and when it
was ready Lakhan took his flute and put his wife on the roof of the
palace and he himself climbed a tree and blew on the flute. Then the
wild buffaloes came running at the sound and gored to death every one
they met, and Lakhan and his wife became Raja and Rani.

[Contents]

LXXII. The Boy with the Stag.

Once all the men of a village went out to hunt in the hills and a
certain orphan boy wanted to go with them, and although they told him
that there was no water in the hills and he would die of thirst, he
insisted on starting. The first day they found no water, but the orphan
boy managed to endure it; but the second [218]day he suffered so
much, that he begged the hunters to take him to water; they told him
that there was no water and they could not take him to any. So he set
off alone in the direction in which he understood there might be water,
but he soon lost his way in the jungle; so in despair he climbed a
meral tree and picked the fruit and threw it in all directions
and to his joy he heard one fruit splash as it fell into water; so he
climbed down and sure enough close to the tree he found a pool and
drank his fill.

And then he saw a fawn stuck fast in the mud at the edge of the
pool, so he fixed an arrow to his bow and crept towards it, resolved to
catch it alive if he could, but if it ran away, to shoot it. The fawn
did not move and he managed to seize it and pulling it out of the mud,
he rubbed it clean and put his bow string round its neck and took it
home. The fawn grew up into a stag and he trained it to fight and one
day he matched it to fight with a goat. The agreement was that the
owner of the winner should take both the animals; in the fight the stag
was victorious, so the boy won the goat. Then he matched his stag with
a ram and a bullock and even with a buffalo, and the stag was always
victorious and in this way he soon grew rich. Seeing him so rich one of
the villagers gave him his daughter in marriage and took him to live in
his house, and so he lived happily ever afterwards.

[Contents]

LXXIII. The Seven Brothers and the Bonga Girl.

Once upon a time there were seven brothers who lived all alone in
the jungle, far from human habitations. None of them was married and
they lived on the game they killed. It chanced that a bonga
maiden saw the youngest brother and fell deeply in love with him. So
[219]one day when all the brothers were away hunting,
she placed in their house seven nicely cooked plates of rice.

When the brothers returned in the evening from the chase, they were
astonished to find the rice waiting for them; all but the youngest said
that it must be some plot to kill them and refused to touch the food,
but the youngest wished to eat it. His brothers would not let him and
told him to throw the rice away; so he took it outside the house, but
instead of throwing it away, he ate up the whole seven plates full,
without letting his brothers know. But when they went to bed that
night, the youngest brother snored loudly, because he had eaten so
much, and thereby his brothers guessed that he had eaten the rice, and
they were very unhappy for they were sure that he was about to die.
However in the morning he was none the worse; so they went out hunting
as usual but the youngest brother suffered continually from thirst, the
result of overeating, and this convinced his brothers that he had eaten
the rice, though he denied it.

When they reached home that evening, they again found seven dishes
of rice placed ready for them. And that day the youngest brother and
the youngest but one ate; and the day after there was the rice again,
and the three youngest ate it. Then the eldest brother said:
“To-morrow I will stay behind and watch, and see who it is who
brings the rice; we have no servant, if I can catch the person who is
so kind to us, I will engage him as a cook for us, and we need have no
more of this mystery. Do you bring back my share of the game you
shoot.”

So the next morning the eldest brother stayed behind and hid himself
and watched. But he could not see the bonga, though she brought
the rice as usual; and when he told his brothers this, it was decided
that the second brother should stay behind the next day, and
[220]see if he had better luck; and that day they all
ate the rice, except the eldest brother, who said that he would never
eat it, until he knew who brought it; so the next day the second
brother watched but he also could not see the bonga.

One by one all the brothers watched in vain, until only the youngest
one was left. Then they said to the youngest brother: “Now it is
your turn and if our friend does not show himself to you, we will eat
no more of his rice.” So the next day the other brothers went off
to hunt and the youngest stayed at home; he did not trouble to hide
himself, but sat in the house making a bow. At noon he saw the
bonga girl coming with the rice on her head, but he took no
notice and pretended to be looking down at something. Then the
bonga came into the courtyard and put down the rice and looked
about and said: “I saw something like a man here, where has he
got to?” and she looked into the house and still the youngest
brother kept silent; then she spoke to him and asked whether he was
ill, that he had not gone hunting. He answered her that he was not ill,
but had been left to watch for the person who brought them rice every
day. Thereupon the bonga went outside and brought in the rice
and putting it down, said: “It is I who do it. Come, wash your
hands and I will give you your dinner,” but he said: “First
tell me what all this means,” and she said: “It means that
I want to live with you.” He objected. “How can I marry you
when my brothers are not married?” She answered that if he
married her, they would soon find wives for his brothers. Then she
urged him to eat, but he said that if he ate one plateful, his brothers
would question him, so the bonga girl went and brought an extra
dish and he ate that. And as they talked together, he soon fell deeply
in love with her, and promised to consult his brothers about her living
with them; but he saw a [221]difficulty which would arise if
she married him, for his elder brothers would not care even to ask her
for water, and thus she would be really of very little use in the
house; so with some hesitation he proposed that she should marry the
eldest brother and then they could all talk freely to her; but the girl
would not agree to this and said that there would be no harm at all in
their talking to her, provided that they did not touch her, and she
would not mind giving his elder brothers water.

So they plighted their troth to each other, subject to the consent
of the brothers, and towards evening the bonga girl left,
promising to return on the morrow. When the brothers returned they
discussed the matter and agreed that the youngest should marry the
girl, provided that she promised to keep house for them. So the next
day the girl came back and stayed with them; and they found wives for
the other brothers, and got cattle and buffaloes and broke up land for
cultivation and though the brothers did not altogether give up hunting,
they became rich.

A certain jogi found out where they lived and once every year he
came to ask for alms; one year he came just after the bonga girl
had borne a child, so as she was doing no work, it was her
sisters-in-law who brought out food for the jogi. But at this he was
displeased, and said that he would only eat at the hands of the girl,
who had given him food the year before. They told him that she was in
child-bed and could not come out. Then he said: “Go and tell her
that the Jhades Jogi has come and wants her arm tassel.” So she
sent out her arm tassel to him and he put it in his bag and got up and
went away. Thereupon the bonga girl arose and left her baby, and
followed him, and never came back. At evening the brothers returned
from hunting, and heard what had happened. They were very distressed
and told their wives to look after the baby while they [222]went
in pursuit. They followed as hard as they could and caught up the Jogi
on the banks of a river; then they tried to shoot him, but their arrows
were powerless against him, and he by magic turned the seven brothers
into stones.

So the Jogi carried off the woman to his home. He was a Raja in his
own country and he had a big garden; and an old woman who looked after
it used to make garlands every day and bring them to the Rani, and the
Rani used to pay their weight in silver for them. In the course of time
the child who was left behind grew up and when he used to play with his
fellows at pitch and toss and there was any dispute about the game his
playmates would say “Fatherless boy, you want to cheat!” So
he asked his aunts whether it was true that he had no father and they
told him that the Jhades jogi had carried off his mother, and how his
father and uncles had gone in pursuit and had never returned. So the
boy decided to go in search of his mother and he set off, and first he
met some goatherds and he sang to them:—

“Ho, Ho, goatherds

Have you seen the Jhades Jogi

On this road?”

But they could tell him nothing. And then he met some shepherd boys,
and he sang to them:—

“Ho, Ho, shepherds,

Have you seen the Jhades jogi

On this road?”

But they could tell him nothing. Then he met some boys tending
buffaloes and he sang;—

“Ho, ho, buffalo herds,

Have you seen the Jhades jogi

On this road?”

[223]

But they could tell him nothing. Then he came to a thorn bush, with
a number of rags fluttering on it, and he sang:—

“Ho, ho, plum bush,

Have you seen the Jhades jogi

On this road?”

And the plum tree said “The Jhades jogi brought your mother
this way, and I did my best to stop them. If you don’t believe me
see the rags as a proof.” And he put his hand on the tree and
went on. And then he came to a squirrel which was chattering in a
banyan tree, and he sang:—

“Ho, ho, squirrel,

Have you seen the Jhades jogi

On this road?”

And the squirrel said “I have been calling you since
yesterday. The jogi brought your mother this way, go on and you will
overtake them. And your father and uncles also came this road.”
The boy was cheered by this news and he put his hand on the
squirrel’s back and said “You are a fine fellow to give me
this clue” and the marks of his fingers were imprinted on the
squirrel and that is why squirrels have striped backs to the present
day.

Then he went on and came to a river and he decided to sit and have
his lunch there; he did not know that his father and uncles had been
turned into stones in that very place, but as he sat and ate, his eyes
were opened and he saw the stones weeping, and he recognised them, and
he dropt a little food on each that they might eat, and pursued his
way, until he came to the Jhades jogi’s kingdom, and he went to
the old woman who kept the Jogi’s garden and asked to be allowed
to stay with her and help her to make the garlands. [224]

One day when he had made a garland, he tied to it a ring which had
belonged to his mother. So when the old woman took the garland to the
Rani, the Rani wondered why it weighed so heavy, and when she examined
it she saw her own ring. Then she asked the old woman who had tied the
ring there, and when she heard that a strange boy had come, she at once
ran to him and recognised her own son.

Then they planned how they could kill the Jhades jogi and escape!
The mother agreed to find out in what lay the life of the Jogi. So she
questioned him and worried him till he told her that his life lay in a
certain pumpkin vine. Then the boy went and cut down the pumpkin vine,
but the Jogi did not die; then the Rani worried and worried the Jogi
till he told her that his life lay in his sword; then the boy stole the
sword and burnt it in a fire of cowdung, but still the Jogi did not
die; then his mother again worried and plagued the Jogi till at last he
told her the truth and said “In the middle of the sea is a cotton
tree, and on the tree are two Bohmae birds; if they are killed I shall
die.”

So the boy set off to the sea and on the road he met three old women
and one had a stool stuck to her back, and one had a bundle of
thatching grass stuck on her head, and the third had her foot stuck
fast to a rice-pounder, and they asked him where he was going, and he
told them, “to visit the shrine of the Bohmae bird”: then
they asked him to consult the oracle and find out how they could be
freed from the things which were stuck fast to them, and he promised to
do so.

By-and-bye he came to the sea and was puzzled as to how he was to
cross it. As he walked up and down the shore he saw an alligator
rolling about in pain with a swollen stomach; and when it saw the boy
it said “I am like to die with this pain in my stomach, how can
[225]I be cured?” and the boy proposed that it
should take him to the cotton tree in the midst of the sea and there
they might learn a remedy from the Bohmae birds. The alligator agreed,
so the boy got on its back and was taken across the water. Then the boy
sat at the foot of the cotton tree and sang:—

“Come down, Bohmae birds,

I wish to consult the oracle.”

But the birds were frightened and flew to the top of the tree. But
as he went on singing, they became curious and came down and asked what
was the matter, and he said “There are three old woman and one
has a stool stuck to her and one a bundle of grass and one a rice
pounder; how are they to be freed?” And they said “The
first old woman never asked visitors to her house to take a seat; if
she does so in future she will get rid of the stool,”—and
as they said this they came nearer—“and the second old
woman, if she saw anyone with straws sticking in their hair never
offered to take them out. If she does so in future she will be
freed,” and as they said this they came nearer
still—“and the third old woman would not allow widows and
orphans to use her rice pounder: if she does so she will be
freed:” and as they said this they came quite near, and the boy
seized them and broke their wings, and as he did so the Jogi’s
arms were broken; then he snapped off their legs, and as he did so the
Jogi’s legs were broken; and the birds screamed and the Jogi
howled.

Then the alligator carried the boy back, and by the time it reached
the shore it was cured of its pain. On his way back the boy told the
three old women of what the birds had said; and when he got to the
Jogi’s palace he twisted off the heads of the Bohmae birds and
then the Jogi’s head fell to the ground. [226]

Then he started homewards with his mother, carrying the birds and
their heads; and the Jogi’s head came rolling after them. But he
saw a blacksmith’s fire burning by the side of the road and he
threw the birds into the fire and the Jogi’s head rolled into the
fire and was burnt, and that was the end of him. When they came to the
river where his father and uncles were turned into stones, he bathed in
the river, and then put a cloth over the stones and they were restored
to human shape; and they rubbed their eyes and said “We must have
slept a long time” and were astonished when they heard how the
Jogi had turned them into stones. Then they all went home and lived
happily ever after.

[Contents]

LXXIV. The Tiger’s Foster Child.

Once upon a time a Potter woman went to dig earth for making pots,
and while she was working she was prematurely delivered of a boy. And
she considered whether she should carry the child home, or the basket
of clay, but in the end decided to take the clay which was urgently
wanted, while she would doubtless have plenty more children in the
course of time. So she went away, leaving the baby in the pit. At
evening a tiger came by and heard the child crying and he took pity on
it and carried it away and he and his wife reared it.

As the child grew up they used to take him to the tigers’
assembly. He was not at all afraid of the tigers and understood all
they said and one day he heard them saying that the Pargana (tribal
chief) tiger was a great man-eater. At this he was very angry and set
off to look for the man-eater, without telling his foster parents. When
the Pargana tiger saw the boy coming he had just finished cleaning his
teeth, and he thought “This is lucky, here is my breakfast
coming;” but just [227]as he was about to spring on the
boy, the boy caught hold of him and tore him to pieces.

The news of this exploit soon spread, and the tigers called a
meeting to consider the matter, and they told the foster father that he
must take steps to prevent the boy doing any such thing again. So the
tiger and tigress went home and told the boy that it was time that he
went back to his own people, as he had brought shame upon them; the boy
objected that men would not receive him, but they told him to go as an
orphan boy and beg in the villages till he found his mother.

So he went away and when he came to a village he sang:—

“My mother went to dig earth

And left me in the pit;

The tiger and the tigress of the jungle

Reared me—give me alms,”

And thus he went begging from village to village and one day he came
to the village where his father and mother lived. His mother heard him
a long way off and running to him knew him for her son. Then she
brought water and oil and turmeric and bathed him and anointed him, and
gave him new clothes and fed him on curds and parched rice. And the
villagers collected, and when they heard the stories of the mother and
son, they believed them and gave a feast in honour of the boy, and took
him into the village.

[Contents]

LXXV. The Caterpillar Boy.

Once there was an old woman who lived on the grain she could collect
from other people’s threshing floors. One day as she swept up a
threshing floor she found a caterpillar among the paddy; she threw it
away but it came crawling back again; she threw it away [228]again, but it said “Do not throw me away,
take me home with you and you will prosper.” So she let it stay
and that day she found that she collected a whole basketful of rice; at
this she was delighted, and put the caterpillar on the top of her
basket and took it home. There she asked the caterpillar what work it
would do, and it said that it would watch the paddy, when it was spread
out to dry after being boiled, and prevent the fowls and pigs from
eating it.

So the caterpillar used to watch the paddy while the old woman went
out looking for food; and every day she brought back a full basket of
rice, and so she soon became rich. It got whispered about that the old
woman was so prosperous, because she had a caterpillar boy in her
house.

One day the caterpillar said that he wanted to go and bathe, so he
went to the river and took off his caterpillar skin, and bathed, and as
he rubbed his head, one or two hairs came out, and these he wrapped up
in a leaf and set the packet to float down the stream. Lower down the
stream a princess was bathing and when she saw the packet come floating
down, she had it fished out, and when she opened it she saw the hairs
inside and she measured them and found them to be twelve fathoms long;
then the princess vowed that she would not eat rice, till she found the
man to whom the hairs belonged. And she went home and shut herself in
her room and refused to eat.

At this her father and mother were much distressed, and when they
heard what had happened the Raja said “Well she wants a husband,
I will find him for her.” And he sent a notice throughout his
kingdom saying that he would give his daughter and half his kingdom to
the man who had hair twelve fathoms long. Everyone who heard this came
with his sons and the princess was told to look at them and choose whom
she liked; [229]but none had hair twelve fathoms long, and she
would take none of them. Then the Raja asked whether everyone in the
kingdom had come, and he was told that there was a caterpillar boy, who
lived with an old woman, who had not come, so the Raja sent to fetch
him, but he said that he had no arms or legs and could not go; so they
sent a palki for him and he was brought in that. And when the palki was
set on the ground, the caterpillar boy rolled out and the princess said
that he should be her husband.

At this her father and mother were much ashamed and remonstrated
with her, but she persisted in her fancy, so the marriage took place.
They sent the newly married pair to live in a house at the outskirts of
the village and only one maidservant accompanied the princess. Every
night the caterpillar boy used to take off his skin and go out to
dance, and one night the maidservant saw him and told her mistress. And
they agreed to watch him, so the next night they pretended to go to
sleep, but when the caterpillar boy went out, they took his skin and
burnt it on the fire; and when he came back, he looked for it, but
could not find it. Then the princess got up and caught him in her arms,
and he retained his human form, and he was as handsome as a god.

In the morning the caterpillar boy and his wife stayed inside the
house, and the Raja sent some children to see what had happened, and
the children brought back word that there was a being in the house, but
whether human or divine they could not say. Then the Raja went and
fetched his son-in-law to the palace, but the caterpillar was not
pleased and said to his wife; “They treat me very well now that
they see that I am a man, but what did they do before?” However
he stayed in his father-in-law’s palace.

Presently the Raja said that his kingdom was too small [230]to
give half of it to his son-in-law, so he proposed that they should go
and conquer fresh territory, and carve out a kingdom for the
caterpillar boy. So they went to war and attacked another Raja, but
they were defeated and their army cut to pieces. Then the son-in-law
said that he would fight himself; so he drew his sword and brandished
it and it flashed like lightning and dazzled the eyes of the enemy and
his shield clanged on his thigh with a noise like thunder; and he
defeated the other Raja and took his kingdom and carried off all his
wealth.

But the Raja thought that as his son-in-law was so strong, he would
one day kill him also and take his kingdom: so he resolved to find a
means to kill him. On their way back from the war they found no water
on the road and were distressed with thirst. One day they came to a
large tank and found it dry. So they made a sacrifice in the hopes that
water would flow. First they sacrificed goats and sang:—

“Tank, we are giving goats

Trickle out water!

Tank, we are giving goats

Flow, water!”

But no water came. Then in succession they sacrificed sheep, and
oxen and buffaloes, and horses and elephants, but all in vain: and
after each failure the Raja said “Son-in-law, it is your
turn,” and at last his son-in-law said “Well, let it be
me;” and he armed himself and mounted his horse and went and
stood in the middle of the tank, and he sang:—

“Up to my knees the water, father,

The water, father, has oozed out.”

And the Raja answered:—

“Do you, my son, remain standing
there,”

[231]

And as he sang the water welled out up to his horse’s knee and
then to its belly; and he still sang and the water rose to the
horse’s back and then to his own waist, and to his chest, and he
still sang, and it reached his mouth and then he was completely
submerged and the tank was full. Then they all drank their fill and the
Raja said to his men “We have sacrificed this Saru prince. I will
kill any of you who tells my daughter what has happened” and they
promised not to tell, but they forgot that there were two dogs with
them. And when they got home each man’s wife brought out water
and welcomed him and the princess asked where her husband, the Saru
prince, was, and no one answered; then she sang:—

“Oh Father, my father; How far away

Is the Saru Prince, the Gindu Raja?”

and the Raja answered

“My daughter, my darling, the Saru Prince, the
Gindu Raja

Is very far away, amusing himself with
hunting.”

And she sang to them all, but no one told her anything, and then she
sang to the two dogs, who were named Chaura and Bhaura:—

“Oh Chaura, oh Bhaura,

How far away

Is the Saru Prince, the Gindu Raja?”

and they answered

“Oh sister, oh Rani!

Your father has sacrificed him

In the big tank.”

Thereupon she began to cry, and every day she sat and cried on the
bank of the tank. [232]

Now the two daughters of the Snake King and Queen had received the
Saru Prince as he disappeared under the water, and when they heard the
princess crying every day they had pity on her; she used to
sing:—

“Oh husband! Oh Raja!

My father has sacrificed you

In the big tank.

Oh husband! Oh Raja,

Take me with you too.”

So the daughters of the Snake King and Queen took pity on her and
told their frog chowkidar to restore the Saru Prince to his wife; and
the Prince and his wife went home together. When the Raja and his wife
saw their son-in-law again, they were terrified, but he said nothing to
reproach them. The princess however could not forgive them for trying
to kill her husband and always looked angrily at them; then the Raja
and the Rani took counsel together and agreed that they had done wrong
to the prince, and that he must be a magician; and they thought that
their daughter must also be a magician, as she had recognised the
prince when he was a caterpillar, and she could not even see his long
hair; so they were afraid and thought it best to make over the kingdom
to their son-in-law, and they abdicated in his favour, and he took the
kingdom.

[Contents]

LXXVI. The Monkey Nursemaid.

Once upon a time there were seven brothers who were all married and
each had one child and the brothers arranged to engage a boy to carry
the children about; so they sent for a boy and to see if he was strong
enough, they made a loaf as big as a door and they told the boy to take
it away and eat it; but he was [233]not strong enough to lift it;
so they told him that he could not carry their children. Now a Hanuman
monkey was looking on from the top of a tree, and he came down and
carried off the loaf and ate it. Thereupon the mothers engaged him to
carry the children, and he used to carry the whole seven about on his
back.

One day the children were running about the house and kept
interfering with their mothers’ work, and the mothers scolded the
monkey for not keeping them out of the way. Then the monkey got sulky
and carried off the children to a distant hill and did not bring them
back at evening. So the mothers got very anxious, but the villagers
laughed at them for engaging a monkey, instead of a human being, to
look after the children.

When the mothers heard that the monkey had taken the children to the
hill, they were still more unhappy, for in the hill lived a
rakhas (ogre) but it was too late to go in search of them that
night. Meanwhile the monkey for fear of the rakhas had carried
the children up to the top of a palm tree and when the rakhas
spied them out he tried to climb the tree, but the monkey drove him
away by throwing the palm fruit at him.

However the monkey was really in a fix, for he was sure that the
Rakhas would return, and he knew that if he let the children be eaten,
their parents would make him pay for it with his life. So he went off
to a blacksmith and bought sharp knives and tied them on to the trunk
of the palm tree: and when the Rakhas came back and tried to climb the
tree, he was so badly cut by the knives, that he fell down to the
ground with a thud and lay there groaning. Then the monkey cautiously
descended and the Rakhas begged him to cure his wounds; the monkey
answered that he would [234]cure him if he gave him complete
outfits for the children. The Rakhas said that he would give them
directly he was cured. So the monkey applied some medicines and recited
the following spells:—

“Rustling, rustling sesamum,

Slender sesamum:

Tell your grandfather,

Tell him of seven waist strings.

Rustling, rustling sesamum,

Slender sesamum:

Tell your grandfather,

Tell him of seven dhotis.”

And in succeeding verses, he mentioned seven coats, seven pair of
shoes, seven hats, seven swords, seven horses, and seven hogs; and as
he repeated the incantation he blew on the Rakhas, and he was
healed.

The Rakhas was to give the things mentioned in the incantation, but
when seven hogs were mentioned he objected and wished only to give one,
and in the end the monkey agreed to be content with two; so the Rakhas
departed and the next day appeared with seven waist strings, seven
dhoties, seven coats, seven hats, seven pairs of shoes, seven swords,
seven horses and two hogs. Then the monkey rigged the children out in
this apparel and mounted them on the horses; and the monkey and the
Rakhas mounted on the two hogs,—the Rakhas having faithfully
promised not to eat the children or their parents,—and they all
set out for the children’s home. When the mothers saw the
cavalcade come jingling along, they were frightened at first; but when
they recognised their children they were delighted, and they gave the
monkey and Rakhas a good dinner. Then the monkey made over the children
to their parents and gave up his post as nurse, and left amid the good
wishes of all. [235]

[Contents]

LXXVII. The Wife Who Could Not Keep a Secret.

Once there was a man of the Goala caste, who looked after the cattle
of a rich farmer. One day a cow dropped a calf in the jungle without
the Goala knowing, and at evening the cow came running to join the
others, without the calf. When they got home the cow kept on lowing and
the master asked whether she had had a calf; the Goala had to confess
that the calf had been left in the jungle; the master scolded him well,
so he took a rope and stick and went out into the night.

But when he got to the jungle he could not hear the calf, so he
decided to wait where he was till the morning; he was too frightened of
wild animals to stay on the ground, so he climbed a tree leaving the
stick and rope at the foot of it. Soon a tiger smelt him out and came
to the place. Then the stick and the rope took council together as to
how they could save their master; the stick saw that it could not see
in the dark and so was powerless; so the rope agreed to fight first,
and it whirled itself round in the air with a whistling noise, and the
tiger hearing the noise and seeing no one, got frightened, and thought
that there was an evil spirit there; so it did not dare to come very
near and in the morning it took itself off.

Then the Goala saw the cow come to look for her calf, so he took up
the stick and rope and followed her. The cow soon found her calf and
asked it whether it had not been very cold and uncomfortable all night;
but the calf said “No mother, I put my foot in these four pots of
rupees and they kept me warm,” The Goala heard this and resolved
to see if it were true; so he dug up the earth where the calf had been
lying and soon uncovered the rims of four pots full of money.
[236]But the Goala did not care to take the money
home for fear his wife should talk about it; he resolved to see first
whether his wife could keep a secret.

So he went home and told her to cook him some food quickly; she
asked why, and he said “The Raja has a tortoise inside him and I
am going to look at him.” Then his wife said that she must fetch
some water, and she went off with the water pot. On the way she met
several women of the village, who asked her why she was fetching water
so early, and she said, “Because the Raja has a tortoise inside
him and my husband is going off to see it.” In less than an hour
the village was full of the news, and the rumour spread until it
reached the ears of the Raja. The Raja was very angry and said that he
would kill the man who started the report, unless he could prove it to
be true. So he sent messengers throughout the country to trace back the
rumour to its source.

One messenger found out that it was the Goala who had started the
story and told him that the Raja wanted to give him a present; so he
gladly put on his best clothes and went off to the Raja’s palace.
But the Raja had him bound with ropes, and then questioned him as to
why he had told a false story. The Goala admitted that his story was
false, but explained that he had only told it to his wife, in order to
see whether she could keep a secret, because he had found four pots of
money. The Raja asked where the money was and the Goala said that he
would show it, but he wanted to know first how much of it he was to
have, for himself. The Raja promised him half; so the Goala led men to
the place and they dug up the money, and the Goala kept half and became
a rich man.

Moral. However friendly you are with a man do not tell him
what is in your heart, and never tell your [237]wife
the real truth, for one day she will lose her temper and let the matter
out.

[Contents]

LXXVIII. Sit and Lakhan.

Once upon a time there was a Raja who had two wives and a concubine,
but after giving birth to her second son, the first Rani died, and the
name of her elder boy was Sit and that of the younger was Lakhan. The
two children used to cry for their mother but the second Rani never
comforted them, for she hated them; it was the concubine who used to
bathe them and care for them, and their father loved them much. They
used to go to the place where their father sat administering justice
and Sit would sit behind his father and Lakhan in front. The second
Rani hated to see them with their father and would tell the concubine
to drive them away; but she refused and said that it was natural for a
father to love his motherless children; so the Rani kept silent, but
anger remained in her heart.

At last the Rani feigned to be ill and kept her bed; the Raja sent
for doctors and ojhas, and they came and saw that she could not
rise and they wanted to feel her pulse, but she would not let them
touch her; all she would do was to make the concubine tie a string to
her wrist and let the doctors hold the other end of the string; so the
doctors diagnosed the disease as best they could in this way and gave
her medicines, but she got no better.

After some days the Rani sent for the Raja and said “I am
dying and you don’t care; these doctors’ medicines do me no
good; there is one medicine only which will cure me.” The Raja
asked “What is it? I will get it for you.” Then the Rani
made him swear by Kali that he would give her the medicine she wanted,
and he swore blindly. Then the Rani said “If I eat [238]the
livers of Sit and Lakhan I shall get well, and if not I shall
die.” At this request the Raja was struck dumb.

Now the concubine and a sipahi had overheard the conversation, and
when they heard what the Rani said, they withdrew and the concubine
went and told Sit and Lakhan of what was in store for them, and Sit
began to cry:—but Lakhan said “Do not cry brother, our
father gave us life, and it is for him to take it away if he
will.” So the Raja came out from the Rani’s room and when
he saw the boys he wept and he went to them and told them to eat their
rice quickly, but they would not eat; then he had their best clothes
brought for them and told them to put them on, but they refused. Then
the Raja called for sipahis and the sipahi who had been
with the concubine, and two others, came and the Raja told them with
tears in his voice to take the two boys away and let him never see them
again, and he added so that the boys should not hear “Bring me
their livers.” So the sipahis took away the boys, and as they
passed through the bazar they bought them some sweetmeats. After
walking for a time they came to a jungle; then Sit said to the sipahis
“How far are we to go? Do here what is in your minds.”

But the sipahis went on further; then Sit again told them to do what
they had to do. But the sipahis said “Do not be frightened, we
shall not kill you; we shall not obey your father; you must go away and
never come back here.”

Now two dogs had followed them, attracted by the smell of the
sweetmeats, and the sipahis caught and killed them and cut out
their livers, and they put them on a plate and took them to the Raja.
The Rani was delighted and had the livers cooked, and ate them and the
next day she rose from her bed.

Meanwhile Sit and Lakhan travelled on, and in a few [239]days
they had eaten all their food and were very tired, and one evening they
sat down at the foot of a tree in the jungle intending to spend the
night there. In that tree a pair of birds had their nest. Every year
they hatched their eggs and reared the young: but every year when the
young were half grown, a snake came and devoured them. That year also
there were two young in the nest, and on the day that the boys rested
at the foot of the tree the snake had resolved to eat them. But when it
came, the boys heard it moving in the leaves and killed it.

At evening the old birds returned and the nestlings said that the
boys had saved their lives, and asked the old birds to give them some
of the food that they had brought. So they threw down two bits of food,
and it was ordained that whoever ate the first piece, should marry the
daughter of a Raja, and whoever ate the second piece, should spit gold;
and it chanced that Sit ate the first piece, and Lakhan the second. The
next morning the boys went on their way, and the Raja of the country
was looking for a husband for his daughter and he had sent an elephant
out with a flower in its trunk and it was arranged that the princess
should marry the man to whom the elephant gave the flower. The elephant
came upon Sit sitting by the side of the road, while Lakhan was at a
distance; and when the elephant saw Sit, it went up and gave him the
flower and the attendants mounted him on the elephant and took him to
the Raja and he married the princess.

A few days after the wedding Sit sat outside the palace with his
wife, and did not come in though it was evening, and the Raja asked him
why he was sitting outside in the dew. Then Sit began to cry and lament
his brother, singing—

“O Brother Lakhan, where have you gone?

O younger brother, where have you gone?”

[240]

Then the Raja heard how he had been separated from his brother, and
he promised to send men in search of Lakhan, and they found him in the
house of a potter; but the potter refused to give him up until he had
been paid for the days that he had entertained him; but really the
Potter had become wealthy, because whenever Lakhan opened his mouth he
spat gold, and he did not wish to lose such a valuable guest. Then Sit
mounted his horse and took five rupees and gave them to the Potter in
payment for his entertainment, and brought Lakhan home with him. When
they found that Lakhan spat gold they were very glad to keep him and
the Raja gave him his second daughter in marriage; and Lakhan made the
whole family rich.

Meanwhile Sit and Lakhan’s father had fallen into poverty; his
country had been conquered and his army destroyed and he and his wife
wandered about begging; when the boys heard this, they sent for the
concubine who had been good to them, and she came and lived with them,
but they did not forgive their father and step-mother.

Moral. There is no controlling a second wife and they are
hard to get on with. First wives are the best, they are obedient and
agree with the opinions of their husband.

[Contents]

LXXIX. The Raja Who Went To Heaven.

Once upon a time there was a Raja, who had many water reservoirs and
tanks, and round the edges he planted trees, mangoes, pipals, palms and
banyans; and the banyan trees were bigger than any. Every day after
bathing the Raja used to walk about and look at his trees, and one
morning, as he did so, he saw a maiden go up to a banyan tree and climb
it, and the tree was then carried up to the sky, but when he went in
the evening [241]he saw the tree in its place again; the same
thing happened three or four days running. The Raja told no one, but
one morning he climbed the banyan tree before the maiden appeared, and
when she came, he was carried up to the sky along with the tree. Then
he saw the maiden descend and go and dance with a crowd of Gupinis
(Divine milk maids) and the Raja also got down and joined in the
dance.

He was so absorbed in the dance that he took no note of time; so
when at last he tore himself away, he found that the banyan tree had
disappeared. There was nothing to be done, but stay where he was; so he
began to wander about and he soon came to some men building a palace as
hard as they could. He asked them for whom the palace was being built,
and they named his own name. He asked why it was being built for him,
and they said that Thakur intended to bring him there, because he was a
good ruler, who did not oppress his subjects and gave alms to the poor
and to widows and orphans.

There was no difference between night and day up in the sky, but
when the Raja came back, he found that the banyan tree was there, and
he climbed up it and was carried back to earth by it. Then he went home
and told his people that he had been on a visit to a friend. After that
the Raja used to visit the banyan tree every day, and when he found
that it did not wither although it had been taken up by the roots, he
concluded that what he had seen was true and he began to prepare for
death. So he distributed all his wealth among his friends and among the
poor; and when his officers remonstrated he made them no answer. A few
days later he died, and was taken to the palace which he had seen being
built.

It is said that what you give away in this world, you will get back
in the next; there you will get good wages for what you have done in
this life. [242]

[Contents]

LXXX. Seven-Tricks and Single-Trick.

Seven-Tricks and Single-Trick were great friends, but some one told
Seven-Tricks that Single-Trick was the cleverer man of the two.
Seven-Tricks pondered over this but felt sure that his very name showed
that he was the cleverer; so one day he went to pay a visit to
Single-Trick, and put the matter to the test When Single-Trick saw him
coming, he called a pretty girl and hid her inside the house and told
his wife to put the rice on to boil. Seven-Tricks arrived and was
pressed to stay for the midday meal; he accepted and
Single-Trick’s wife brought them water to wash their hands and
when they sat down, helped them to the rice.

As they ate, Single-Trick pretended to get very angry and began to
abuse his wife “You lazy slattern, why have you put no salt in
the rice? I will beat you for this, I will beat you into a girl
again.” So saying he caught up a club and gave her a blow with
it, and pushed her into the house and pretended to continue the beating
inside; and then came out dragging with him the pretty girl whom he had
hidden. When Seven-Tricks saw this transformation he made up his mind
to steal the club, and try whether he could beat his own wife into a
girl again. So when he went home he secretly took away the club, and
the next day when his wife was giving him his dinner he pretended to
get angry with her for not putting salt in the rice, and snatching up
the club gave her a good pounding with it, and drove her into the house
and then pulled her forth again; but to his dismay she did not look a
day younger than before. Seven-Tricks was puzzled but could only opine
that he had not beaten the woman hard enough, so he beat her till her
bones cracked; but still there was no result and he had to give up in
despair. [243]

After a time Seven-Tricks paid another visit to Single-Trick, and
Single-Trick invited him to come hunting in the forest; before they
started Single-Trick told his wife to go and buy a hare and keep it in
the house. The two friends set off, and after a time they put up a
hare; Single-Trick had brought with him his dog, which was a shocking
coward and no good at hunting; when they saw the hare Single-Trick
loosed the dog calling “After it, after it, drive it right
home.” And the coward of a dog, directly it was free, put its
tail between its legs and ran straight home. “Come along home
now; that is a splendid sporting dog, it is sure to have taken the hare
home;” so saying Single-Trick set off back, and when they arrived
he asked his wife whether the dog had brought home a hare.
“Yes”, said she, “I have put it in that room”
and promptly produced the hare that she had bought. Seven-Tricks at
once resolved to possess himself of a dog that brought the game home by
itself, and the next night he came and stole it, and in the morning
took it out hunting. He soon started a hare and loosed the dog after
it; the dog ran straight away in the direction of the house, and
Seven-Tricks followed at his leisure, and asked his wife where the dog
had put the hare. “Hare,” said she “there is no hare,
the dog came running back alone.” “Perhaps I was too slow
and gave him time to eat the hare,” thought Seven-Tricks; so he
took it out again and when he loosed it after a hare, he ran after it
as fast as he could to see what it did. Everyone laughed to see the
hunter chasing his dog, instead of his game. When he got to the house
of course there was no hare, and so he gave up trying to hunt.

Another day he paid a visit to Single-Trick and Single-Trick asked
him to come out fishing. Before they started Single-Trick told his wife
to buy some live codgo fish and keep them ready in the house.
When [244]they came to a pool, Single-Trick at once let
down his line and soon got a bite from a codgo fish; as he
pulled it out he threw it, rod and all, behind him in the direction of
his home and said to Seven-Tricks “Come along home, I
expect that all the fish in the pool will have reached home by
now,” Directly they got to the house Single-Trick asked his wife
whether the fish had come. “Yes”, said she, “I have
put them all in this basket” and brought out a basket of live
codgo fish. Seven-Tricks at once made up his mind to steal the
wonderful fishingrod, so he came back that evening and managed to
abstract it, and next morning went fishing with it. Directly he had
caught a codgo fish, he threw it over his shoulder and went off
home and asked whether the fish had arrived, but he only got laughed at
for his folly. Then he was convinced that Single-Trick was more than a
match for him, and he would have nothing more to do with him.

[Contents]

LXXXI. Fuljhari Raja.

There was once a Raja named Fuljhari and he was childless; he and
his wife made pilgrimages to many shrines but all in vain, the
wished-for son never arrived. One day a Jugi came to the palace begging
and the Raja asked the holy man to tell him how he could have a son;
then the Jugi examined the palms of their hands but having done so
remained silent. The Raja urged him to speak but the Jugi said that he
feared that the reply would be distasteful to the Raja and make him
angry. But the Raja and his wife begged for his advice, and promised to
do him no harm whatever he said. At last the Jugi explained that they
could never have a child unless they separated, and the Raja went right
away and the Rani lived with another man; with this he took his
departure. [245]

Then the Raja and his wife consulted together and the Raja proposed
to take the Jugi’s advice, as he felt that he could not leave his
kingdom without an heir; so he said that he would go away to a far
country, on pretence of visiting a distant shrine; but the Rani feared
that if, on his return, he found that she had borne a child, he would
kill her or at least turn her and the child out to beg their bread; but
the Raja assured her that he would never treat her in that way and
after making his final arrangements he went off to a far country.

There he stayed some years and in the meanwhile the Rani had five
sons; at last she wrote to her husband to come home and directly he
reached the palace he bade the Rani to bring the boys to him, that he
might embrace and acknowledge them; so they were brought and he took
them one by one in his arms and kissed them, and he saw that they were
all the images of himself. But when he kissed the youngest child he was
suddenly struck with blindness. Then he rose in wrath and ordered the
child to be taken away and killed; but the mother had pity on it and
persuaded the soldiers not to kill it but to convey it away to a far
country.

The child’s name was Lita and he grew up and was married to
the daughter of the Raja of the land and lived in his
father-in-law’s house. But Lita was always tormented by the
thought that he had been the cause of his father’s blindness;
although he would not tell anyone of his sorrow, he used to get up when
every one was asleep and spend the night in tears. One night his wife
surprised him weeping and begged him to tell her what was the matter.
She pressed him until he told her how, immediately his father kissed
him, he had gone blind and how his mother had smuggled him out of the
country and saved his life, but how the recollection of the harm he had
done tormented him and how he longed to be able to return to his own
country and restore his [246]father’s sight. His wife on
hearing this at once began to comfort him and assured him that she
would help him to obtain a medicine which would restore his
father’s sight. In a range of mountains was a Rakhas who had a
daughter who was buried in a heap of Fuljhari flowers; if Lita went and
could persuade the Rakhas to let him marry his daughter, he could then
get a Fuljhari flower and if that were rubbed on his father’s
eyes his sight would be restored.

So Lita set out towards the mountains and sat down by the road side
at their foot. Presently the Rakhas and his wife came by; the wife
asked him what he was sitting there for; he said that he was looking
out for some one who would have him to come and live in his house as a
son-in-law. The Rakhas paid no heed to this and proposed to eat up Lita
at once, but his wife begged him to spare the young man and take him
home and marry him to their daughter, who was very lonely. The Rakhas
gave way and they took Lita to the cavern in which they lived and there
was their daughter buried under a heap of flowers. They made her get
up, and told her that they had brought a husband for her.

Lita and his bride lived happily together and were soon deeply in
love with each other, and after a time he told her about his
father’s blindness and how he wished to try to cure it with one
of her flowers. She readily agreed to help him; so the next day she
went to her father and said that she wished to pay a short visit to her
husband’s home; the Rakhas consented and she and Lita took their
leave. She told Lita that when the Rakhas offered him a farewell gift,
he should take nothing but a hair from the Rakhas’ head; this he
did and they tied the flower and the hair up carefully and set off to
the home, where Lita’s first wife was awaiting them. She told her
parents that Lita had come back with one of his sisters, and that she
now wished to go back with [247]them on a visit to their home. Her
parents assented and the three of them set out and one evening reached
the outskirts of the village in which Lita had been born. They camped
under a roadside tree, but in the middle of the night they took out the
Rakhas’ hair and said to it “Make us a golden palace”
and at once a golden palace sprang up. Next morning all the residents
of the village collected to see the wonderful new palace, and Lita told
them to bring their Raja and he would cure him of his blindness. So
they went and fetched the old blind Raja and directly Lita touched his
eyes with the flower his sight was restored. Then they wept over each
other and told all that had happened. And the old Raja and his wife
came and lived with Lita and his wives and the other brothers stayed on
at their old home; and they all lived happily ever after.

[Contents]

LXXXII. The Corpse of the Raja’s Son.

There was once a blacksmith named Chitru who had a very pretty wife;
and the woman attracted the attention of the son of the Raja. Chitru
suspected that his wife was unfaithful to him, and one night he
pretended to go away from home, but really he lay in wait and surprised
the prince visiting his wife; then he sprang out upon him and strangled
him.

But when he found himself with the corpse of the prince on his
hands, he began to wonder what he should do to avoid being convicted of
the murder. At last he took up the corpse and carried it to the house
of two dancing girls who lived in the village, and laid it down inside.
Soon after the dancing girls woke up and saw the corpse lying in their
room; they at once aroused their parents, and when they found that it
was the corpse of the Prince, they were filled with consternation.

Now Chitru had a reputation for cunning, so they [248]decided to send for him quietly and take his
advice. When he came they begged him to save them; he pretended to be
much surprised and puzzled and at last undertook to get them out of
their difficulty, if they paid him one hundred rupees; they gladly paid
him the money, and then he took up the corpse and carried it off and
laid it down on the verandah of the house of a mahajan who lived
near. Soon after some one came out of the house and found the corpse;
at once they were all in consternation and sent for the clever Chitru
to help them out of their difficulty.

Chitru refused to lift a finger unless he were paid two hundred
rupees, and when he had got the money he took up the corpse and put it
in a sitting position in a little patch of brinjals which a
Koeri had planted by his front door. At dawn the Koeri came out and saw
what he thought was a thief stealing his brinjals, and promptly threw a
stone at the man. The corpse fell over, and when the Koeri went to see
who it was he found the dead body of the Raja’s son. As it was
daylight, he had no opportunity of making away with the body, so he was
arrested and sent for trial. He was acquitted, because he had acted
unwittingly, but he was too frightened of the Raja to stay any longer
in the village and absconded as soon as he could.

Chitru, who was the real murderer, made his wife promise to keep
silence by threats and was three hundred rupees the better for the
business.

[Contents]

LXXXIII. The Sham Child.

There was once a Raja who had two wives and each Rani had a
maidservant who was the Raja’s concubine; but none of them had
any children. In the course of time the ladies began to quarrel and
when they appealed to the Raja, he found that the elder Rani
[249]was to blame and turned her out of the palace,
and sent her to live in a palm leaf hut on the outskirts of the town.
Her faithful maidservant followed her, and the two supported themselves
by begging. But they barely got enough to keep body and soul
together.

After a few days the maidservant asked permission of her mistress to
play a trick on the Raja, by which they should at least get sufficient
food. The Rani assented and the maidservant went off to the Raja and
told him that the wife whom he had turned out was five months with
child, and that it was a disgrace that one who was to be the mother of
his heir should have to beg her bread. On hearing this the Raja
somewhat relented towards the Rani, and he ordered money to be sent her
sufficient to provide her with food, and had a proper house prepared
for her. When the proper time arrived, the maidservant went to the Raja
and told him that a son had been born; at this joyful news the Raja
became still more generous and told the maidservant that she was free
to take whatever was wanted for the child.

This suited the maid and her mistress excellently; so long as they
could keep up the deception they lived in comfort; when the child was
supposed to have grown old enough to run about, they asked for the
price of some anklets with bells on them and bought a pair, and
whenever the Raja passed by the house in which the Rani lived, the
maidservant made her mistress rattle the anklets, and then went outside
and told the Raja to listen to the anklets tinkling as his son ran
about the house. The Raja would tell the maidservant not to let the boy
run about too much, lest he should fall and hurt himself; then she
would hurry inside and tell the Rani to stop the jingling, and then
come and tell the Raja that the boy was resting in his mother’s
lap; but for all this the Raja was never given an opportunity of seeing
his son. [250]

However as time went on the Raja chose a bride and arranged for his
son’s wedding; the bride’s friends did not come to inspect
the bridegroom; a day was fixed right off for the wedding. As this day
drew near, the Rani became more and more frightened, for it seemed that
her deception must at last be discovered, and she would probably be put
to death. But the maidservant encouraged her and promised to devise a
plan; so when the day came for them to start for the bride’s
house she made a paste of ground mowah flowers and out of this
fashioned an image of a child; and when the procession started off,
with the Raja in a palki, and drummers, and palki-bearers, the
maidservant was also carried in a palki and pretended that she was
holding the child. Off they started and as it was too far to go in one
day, they stopped for the night at a bazar, where there was the shrine
of a saint. At midnight the maidservant arose and went to the shrine
and called to the spirit (bonga) which dwelt there, and said that he
must grant her a boon, and if not it would be the worse for him; the
spirit asked what she wanted and she showed the paste image and said
that she was going with the procession to marry her son, and somehow on
the way he had been turned into paste; if the spirit would not give her
another son, she would spit on him and curse him. The spirit saw that
she meant what she said, and for fear of being spat upon, he produced a
boy from somewhere and gave him to her. The maidservant was delighted
at her success and bowed down three times in reverence to the spirit
and took away the boy and put him in her palki.

The next morning they rose and reached the bride’s house and
the wedding took place in due form. As they were returning, the
maidservant sent on two men to warn her mistress of what had happened
and to tell her to get ready a feast. So when they reached home there
was a feast ready and the bride’s friends were [251]duly
entertained and dismissed. Afterwards the Raja fell out with his second
wife and left the palace where she lived and came and stayed with the
elder Rani, whom he had formerly turned out.

[Contents]

LXXXIV. The Sons of the Kherohuri Raja.

The Kherohuri Raja had five sons, and he made up his mind that he
would only marry them to five sisters. So he sent out Brahmans and
Jugis to search the world to find a Raja with five unmarried daughters.
And at the same time the Chandmuni Raja had five marriagable daughters,
and he made up his mind that he would marry them to five brothers; he
did not care what their rank in life was, but he was determined to find
a family of five brothers to marry his daughters. And he also told all
the Brahmans and Jugis who wandered about begging, to look out for a
family of five unmarried brothers.

One day it chanced that the emissaries of the Kherohuri Raja and
those of the Chandmuni Raja met at a river; both parties were resting
after taking their midday meal and as they smoked they fell into
conversation, and soon found that their meeting was most fortunate;
each party had found the Tery thing they wanted, so they all set off to
the palace of the Kherohuri Raja in order that the Chandmuni
Raja’s messengers might see the young men.

The Kherohuri Raja ordered them to be hospitably entertained and
food to be set before them; they however refused to eat anything till
they had seen the five bridegrooms. The five young men were then
introduced and as they appeared to be sound in wind and limb and in all
respects satisfactory, there was no further obstacle to the
entertainment. The next day the Kherohuri Raja sent out officials to
visit and inspect the daughters of the [252]Chandmuni Raja, and
as their report was satisfactory, nothing remained but to fix the day
for the wedding.

When the time came for the bridegrooms and their retinue to set off
to the country of the Chandmuni Raja, they and their servants and
followers all started, so that no one was left at home but their
mother. After they had gone a little way the eldest prince stopped them
and said that they could not leave their mother all alone, what would
she do supposing some sudden danger arose? The others agreed that this was so, but the difficulty
was to decide who should stay; not one of the other brothers would
consent to do so. So at last the eldest brother said that he would
stay, and he gave them his shield and sword and told them to perform
his marriage for him by putting the vermilion on the bride’s
forehead with his sword.

When they reached the home of the Chandmuni Raja they proceeded at
once to perform the vermilion ceremony, beginning with the eldest
daughter; but when the sword was produced and she was told that she
must go through the ceremony with the sword, as her bridegroom had not
come, she began to cry and make a great to-do. Nothing would induce her to
consent. “Why was her husband the only one who had not come in
person? he must be blind or lame or married;” this resistance put
all the others into a difficulty, for the younger sisters could not be
married before the elder. At last after much talking her father and
mother persuaded the eldest daughter to go through the ceremony; the
women put vermilion on the sword and with the sword the mark was made
on the bride’s forehead; and then the younger sisters were
married and after a grand feast the whole party set out for the palace
of the Kherohuri Raja.

On the way they were benighted in the midst of a great jungle twelve
kos wide, and the palki bearers [253]declined to go any
further in the dark, so they had all to camp where they were. In the
middle of the night, suddenly sixteen hundred Rakhases descended on
them and swallowed up the whole cavalcade, elephants and horses and
palkis and men. In this danger the eldest princess who had been married
to the sword prayed to Chando saying “O Chando! I have never yet
set eyes on my husband; he is not with me here. I pray thee carry my
palki in safety up into the sky.” And Chando heard her prayer and
lifted her palki up into the air and preserved her, but all those who
were left on the ground were swallowed up by the Rakhases; when the day
dawned not one was to be seen.

As the princess from mid air gazed on this melancholy spectacle, a
parrot came flying over and she called to it and begged it to take a
letter for her to her husband in the palace of the Kherohuri Raja. The
parrot obeyed her behest, and when the eldest prince read the letter
and learned what had happened, he made a hasty meal and saddled his
horse and was ready to start; but as it was nearly evening he thought
it better to wait till the next day.

Very early the following morning he set out and when his bride saw
him come riding along she prayed to Chando that if it were really her
husband the palki might descend to the ground; it immediately sank, and
the bride and bridegroom met; then she told him all that had happened
and gave him the shield and sword that he had sent to represent him at
the marriage; with these in his hands he waited and when at nightfall
the Rakhases returned, the Prince slew everyone of them with his sword;
and as he killed them the Rakhases vomited up the elephants, horses and
men that they had eaten. Then his wife told the prince to dip a cloth
in water and wring it out over the dead and [254]as
the water fell on them they all became alive again, elephants, horses
and men.

But his brothers far from being grateful to him for having restored
them to life, took counsel together saying. “Now that he has
delivered us from this danger, he will think that he has a claim on us
and will treat us as his servants; let us cut open his stomach and then
the Rakhas will eat him.” So they turned on him, cut open his
stomach, and went their ways. Then the wounded prince told the
palki-bearers to carry his bride back to her father’s house.

When they appeared before the Chandmuni Raja, he upbraided them for
not having brought the prince too, to try if he could not have been
healed. Meanwhile the prince lay in the jungle groaning for a whole day
and night; then Chando and his wife heard his cries and came down and
told him to push in his entrails and when he had done so, they gave him
a slap on his stomach and he became whole again. Then as he was afraid
to return to his home where his brothers were, he went begging to his
father-in-law’s house; as he came to it, his wife said to her
sister-in-law that the beggar seemed to be like her husband, so she
went to him and they recognised each other and he was taken in and well
treated and lived there many years. In the end he was seized with a
desire to go and see his old mother, and, his wife consenting to go
with him, they set off to his father’s home; when his brothers
saw him come, they were filled with fear and made him Raja over them
and they became his servants and he lived in prosperity for the rest of
his life.

[Contents]

LXXXV. The Dog Bride.

Once upon a time there was a youth who used to herd buffaloes; and
as he watched his animals graze he [255]noticed that exactly at noon
every day a she-dog used to make its way to a ravine, in which there
were some pools of water. This made him curious and he wondered to whom
it belonged and what it did in the ravine; so he decided to watch, and
one day when the dog came he hid himself and saw that when it got to
the water, it shed its dog skin and out stepped a beautiful maiden, and
began to bathe; and when she had finished bathing she put on the skin
and became a dog again, and went off to the village; the herdboy
followed her and watched into what house she entered, and he enquired
to whom the house belonged. Having found out all about it, he went back
to his work.

That year the herdboy’s father and mother decided that it was
time for him to marry and began to look about for a wife for him; but
he announced that he had made up his mind to have a dog for his wife
and he would never marry a human girl.

Everyone laughed at him for such an extraordinary idea, but he could
not be moved; so at last they concluded that he must really have the
soul of a dog in him, and that it was best to let him have his own way.
So his father and mother asked him whether there was any particular dog
he would like to have for his bride, and then he gave the name of the
man into whose house he had tracked the dog that he had seen going to
the ravine. The master of the dog laughed at the idea that anyone
should wish to marry her, and gladly accepted a bride’s price for
her; so a day was fixed for the wedding and the booth built for the
ceremony and the bridegroom’s party went to the bride’s
house and the marriage took place in due form and the bride was
escorted to her husband’s house.

Every night when her husband was asleep, the bride used to come out
of the dog’s skin and go out of the house; and when her husband
found out this, he one [256]night only pretended to go to
sleep and lay watching her, and when she was about to leave the room he
jumped up and caught hold of her and seizing the dog skin, threw it
into the fire, where it was burnt to ashes, so his bride remained a
woman, but she was of more than human beauty. This soon became known in
the village and everyone congratulated the herdboy on his wisdom in
marrying a dog.

Now the herdboy had a friend named Jitu and when Jitu saw what a
prize his friend had got, he thought that he could not do better than
marry a dog himself. His relations made no objection and a bride was
selected and the marriage took place, but when they were putting
vermilion on the bride’s forehead she began to growl; but in
spite of her growling they dragged her to the bridegroom’s house,
and forcibly anointed her with oil and turmeric; but when the
bride’s party set off home, the dog broke loose and ran after
them; then everyone shouted to Jitu to run after his bride and bring
her back, but she only growled and bit at him, so that he had at last
to give it up. Then everyone laughed at him so much that he was too
ashamed to speak, and two or three days later he hanged himself.

[Contents]

LXXXVI. Wealth or Wisdom.

Once upon a time there were a Raja and a rich merchant, and they
each had one son. The two boys went to the same school and in the
course of time became great friends; they were always together out of
school hours; the merchant’s son would take his meals at the
Raja’s palace or the Raja’s son would eat with his friend
at the merchant’s house. One day the two youths began a
discussion as to whether wealth or wisdom were the more powerful: the
Raja’s son said that wealth was most important, while the
merchant’s son declared [257]for wisdom; the discussion
waxed hot and neither would yield his opinion. At last the
merchant’s son declared; “It is of no use for us to argue
like this, let us put it to the test: let us both go to some far
country and take service with some master for a year, and try whether
wealth or wisdom is the more successful.” The Prince agreed to
this plan and they fixed a day for starting.

Then they both went home and collected what money they could lay
hands on and, when the time arrived, started off early one morning.
After they had travelled some distance the Prince began to think of how
his parents must be searching for him, for he had said nothing about
his going away; but the merchant’s son comforted him by saying
that he had left word of their intentions at his home, and his
relations would tell the Raja; so they continued on their way, and
after a time they came to a certain country where the merchant’s
son proposed that they should look for employment. But now that it had
come to the point, the prince did not like the idea of becoming a
servant and he said that he would live on the money which he had
brought with him, and which would last for a year or two. “You
may do as you like” answered his friend “but for my part I
must look for work.” So he went to a village and found employment
as a teacher in a school; his pupils gave him his food and also some
small wages, so that he had enough to live on, without spending any of
the money he had brought with him.

Meanwhile the Raja’s son hired a house in the village and
began to lead a riotous life; in a very short time He had wasted all
his money on his evil companions and was reduced to absolute
starvation; for when his money came to an end, all his so-called
friends deserted him. Thin and wretched, he went to the
merchant’s son and asked him either to take him back to his
father’s home or to find him work. His friend agreed to find
[258]him some employment, and after a little enquiry
heard of a farmer who wanted a servant to take a bullock out to graze
and to fill a trough with water once a day. The prince thought that he
could easily manage that amount of work, so he went to the farmer and
engaged himself as his servant.

The terms of service were these:—If the prince threw up his
work one of his little fingers was to be cut off, but if the farmer
dismissed him while he was working well then the farmer was to lose a
little finger; and if the prince grazed the bullock and filled the
trough with water regularly, he was to get as much cooked rice as would
cover a plantain leaf, but if he did not do the work he was to get only
what would go on a tamarind leaf. The prince readily agreed to these
terms, for he thought that the work would not take him more than an
hour or two. But unhappily for him, things did not turn out as he
expected. On the first morning he took the bullock out to graze, but
the animal would not eat; whenever it saw any other cattle passing, it
would gallop off to join them, and when the prince had run after it and
brought it back, nothing would make it graze quietly; it kept running
away in one direction or another with the prince in pursuit. So at last
he had to bring it home and shut it up in the cow-shed and even that he
found difficult.

Then they set him to filling the trough, and he found that he could
not do that either, for the trough had a hole in the bottom and had
been set over the mouth of an old well; and as fast as the prince
poured the water in, it ran away, but he was too stupid to see what was
the matter and went on pouring till he was quite tired out; so as he
had not completed the tasks set him, he only got a tamarind leaf full
of rice for his supper; this went on every day and the prince began to
starve, but he was afraid to run away and tell his troubles to
[259]the merchant’s son, lest he should have
his little finger cut off.

But the merchant’s son had not forgotten his friend and began
to wonder why the Prince kept away from him. So one day he went to pay
him a visit and was horrified to find him looking so ill and starved;
when he heard how the prince was only getting a tamarind leaf full of
rice every day, because he could not perform the task set him, he
offered to change places with the Prince and sent him off to teach in
the school while he himself stayed with the farmer. The next morning
the merchant’s son took the bullock out to graze and he also
found that the animal would not graze quietly but spent its time in
chasing the other cattle, so at noon he brought it home and set to work
to fill the trough; he soon found the hole in the bottom through which
the water escaped and stopped it up with a lump of clay and then he
easily filled the trough to the brim. Then in the afternoon he took the
bullock out again to graze and when he brought it back at sunset he was
given a plantain leaf full of rice; this meant more food than he could
possibly eat in a day.

He was determined that the bullock should not give him any more
trouble, so the next morning when he took it out to graze, he took with
him a thick rope and tethered the animal to a tree; this saved him all
the trouble of running after it, but it was clear that it would not get
enough to eat in that way, so he made up his mind to get rid of it
altogether, and when he took it out in the afternoon, he took with him
a small axe and drove the bullock to a place where a herd of cattle
were grazing and then knocked it on the head with the axe and threw the
body into a ravine near by. Then he hid the axe and ran off to his
master and told him that the bullock had started fighting with another
animal in the herd and had been pushed over [260]the
edge of the ravine and killed by the fall. The farmer went out to see
for himself and when he found the dead body lying in the ravine he
could not but believe the story, and had no fault to find with his
cunning servant.

A few days later, as the rice crop was ripe, the farmer told the
merchant’s son to go to the fields to reap the rice. “How
shall I reap it?” asked he. “With a sickle,” replied
the farmer. “Then it will be the the sickle and not I, that reaps
it” “As you like,” said the farmer, “you go
along with the sickle, no doubt it knows all about it;” so they
got him a sickle and he went off to the fields. When he got there, he
noticed how bright the sickle looked, and when he touched it, he found
it quite hot from being carried in the sun. “Dear, dear,”
said he, “I cannot let this sickle reap the rice: it is so hot
that it must have very bad fever; I will let it rest in the shade until
it gets better,” so he laid it down in a shady spot and began to
stroll about. Presently up came the farmer, and was very angry to find
no work going on. “Did I send you out to stroll about, or to
start cutting the rice?” roared he. “To cut the
rice,” answered the merchant’s son, “but the sickle
has fallen ill with high fever and is resting in the shade; come and
feel how hot it is.” “You are nothing but an idiot,”
answered the farmer. “You are no good here; go back home and
start a fire in the big house and boil some water by the time I get
back.” The merchant’s son was only on the lookout for an
excuse to annoy the farmer and the words used by the farmer were
ambiguous; so he went straight back to the farm and set the biggest
house on fire. The farmer saw the conflagration and came rushing home
and asked the merchant’s son what on earth he meant by doing such
mischief. “I am only doing exactly what you told me; nothing
would induce me to disobey any order of [261]yours, my worthy
master.” The farmer had nothing more to say; his words would bear
the construction put upon them by the merchant’s son, and he was
afraid to dismiss him lest he should have to lose his little finger; so
he made up his mind to get rid of this inconvenient servant in another
way, and the next day he called him and told him that he must send word
to his father-in-law of the unfortunate burning of the house, and the
merchant’s son must carry the letter.

The latter accordingly set off with the letter, but on the road he
thought that it would be just as well to see what the letter was really
about; so he opened it and found that it contained a request from the
farmer to his father-in-law to kill the bearer of the letter
immediately on his arrival. The merchant’s son at once tore this
up and wrote another letter in the farmer’s name: saying that the
bearer of the letter was a most excellent servant and he wished him to
marry into the family; but that as he himself had no daughters he hoped
that his father-in-law would give him one of his daughters to wife.
Armed with this he proceeded on his journey. The father-in-law was
rather surprised at the contents of the letter and asked the
merchant’s son if he knew what it was about; he protested
complete ignorance: the farmer had told him nothing, and as he was only
a poor cowherd, of course he could not read. This set suspicion at
rest; the wedding was at once arranged and duly took place, and the
merchant’s son settled down to live with his wife’s
family.

After a time the farmer got news of what had happened, and when he
saw how the merchant’s son had always been sharp enough to get
the better of him, he began to fear that in the end he would be made to
cut off his finger; so he sought safety in flight. He ran away from his
house and home and was never heard of more. [262]

When news of this came to the ears of the merchant’s son, he
set out to visit his old friend the Prince and found him still teaching
in the little village school. “What do you think now,” he
asked him, “is wisdom or money the better. By my cleverness, I
got the better of that farmer; he had to give me more rice than I could
eat. I killed his bullock, I set fire to his house, and I got a wife
without expending a pice on my marriage; while you—you have spent
all the money you brought with you from home, and have met with nothing
but starvation and trouble; what good has your money done you?”
The Prince had not a word to answer.

Two or three days later the Prince proposed that they should go back
to their parents; his friend agreed but said that he must first inform
his wife’s relations, so they went back to the village where the
merchant’s son had married, and while they were staying there the
Prince caught sight of a Raja’s daughter and fell violently in
love with her.

Learning of the Prince’s state of mind the merchant’s
son undertook to arrange the match; so he sent his wife to the
Raja’s daughter with orders to talk of nothing but the virtues
and graces of the Prince who was staying at their house. Her words had
their due effect and the Raja’s daughter became so well disposed
towards the Prince, that when one day she met him, she also fell
violently in love with him and felt that she could not be happy unless
she became his wife. So the wedding duly took place, and then the
Prince and the merchant’s son with their respective wives
returned to their fathers’ houses.

[Contents]

LXXXVII. The Goala and the Cow.

Once upon a time a young man of the Goala caste was going to his
wedding; he was riding along in a [263]palki, with all his friends,
to the bride’s house and as he was passing by a pool of water he
heard a voice saying, “Stop you happy bridegroom; you are happy,
going to fetch your bride; spare a thought for my misfortune and stay
and pull me out of this quagmire.” Looking out he saw a cow stuck
fast in the mud at the edge of the pool, but he had no pity for it and
harshly refused to go to its help, for fear lest he should make his
clothes muddy.

Then the cow cursed the Goala, saying, “Because you have
refused to help me in my extremity, this curse shall light on you,
directly you touch your bride you shall turn into a donkey.” At
these words the Goala was filled with fear and telling the bearers to
put down the palki he alighted and ran and pulled the cow out of the
mud; this done, he begged her to withdraw the curse, but the cow
declared that this was impossible, what she had said was bound to come
to pass. At these words the Goala began to lament and threw himself at
the feet of the cow, beseeching her; at length the cow relented, and
promised that though the curse could not be withdrawn it should be
mitigated and it would be possible for his wife to restore him to human
shape. So the Goala had to take what comfort he could from this and
returning to the palki he told his friends what had passed. Much
downcast the procession continued its way, wondering what would be the
upshot of this adventure.

Arrived at the bride’s house, they proceeded to celebrate the
wedding; but as the Goala touched the bride with his finger to apply
the vermilion mark to her forehead, he suddenly became a donkey. The
company were filled with dismay and the bride’s parents declared
that they would never let their daughter go away with such a husband,
but the bride herself spoke up and said that as Thakur for some reason
had given her such [264]a husband she would cleave to him, and
nothing that her relations said could shake her purpose; so when the
bridal party set out homewards, she went with them to her
husband’s house. But there everyone laughed at her so much for
having married a donkey that she made up her mind to run away to
another country; so one day she packed up some provisions for the
journey and set out, driving the donkey before her.

She journeyed on and on till one day she happened to come to a tank
with a large well near it; she turned the donkey loose to graze on the
banks of the tank and sat down by the well to eat some of the food
which she had with her. In the fields below the tank were some twenty
ploughmen in the service of the Raja of that country, driving their
ploughs; and when it got past noon these men began to grumble, because;
no one had brought them their dinner; as it got later and later they
became more and more violent, and vowed that when anyone did come they
would give him a good beating for his laziness. At last one of the
maid-servants of the Raja was seen coming along, carrying their food in
a basket on her head and with her child running by her side. The sight
pacified the ploughmen and the maid-servant hastened to set down the
basket near them and then went off to the well to draw some water for
them.

Just as she was ready to let down the water-pot, a wedding
procession passed along the road with drums and music, making a fine
show. The maid could not keep her eyes off this, but at the same time
did not wish to keep the ploughmen waiting any longer; so, with her
eyes on the procession, she tied the well-rope, as she thought round
the neck of the water-pot, but really, without knowing it, she tied the
rope round the neck of her own little child and proceeded to lower him
into the well. When she pulled up the rope she found that she had
strangled her own child. [265]

She was of course much distressed at this, but she was even more
afraid of what might be done to her and at once hit on a device to save
herself from the charge of murder. Taking the dead child in her arms
she ran to the ploughmen and scattered all the food she had brought
about the ground; then with the child still in her arms, she ran to the
Raja and complained to him that his ploughmen had assaulted her,
because she was late in taking them their dinner, had knocked the
basket of food all about the ground and had beaten her child to death;
she added that a strange woman was grazing a donkey near the place and
must have seen all that passed.

The Raja at once sent a Sipahi to fetch the ploughmen and when they
came before him he asked them what had happened, and bade them swear
before Sing bonga whether they were guilty of the murder. The
ploughmen solemnly swore to speak the truth, and then told the Raja
exactly what had happened, how the woman had killed her child by
mistake and then falsely charged them with the murder. Then the Raja
asked them whether they had any witnesses, and they said that there was
no one of their own village present at the time, but that a strange
woman was grazing an ass on the banks of the tank, who must have seen
all that happened. Then the Raja sent two sipahis to fetch the woman,
telling them to treat her well and bring her along gently. So the
sipahis went to the woman and told her that the Raja wanted her on very
important business; she made no demur and went to fetch her donkey. The
sipahis advised her to leave it behind to graze, but she said that
wherever she went the donkey must go and drove it along with her.

When she appeared before the Raja he explained to her what had
happened, and how the maid-servant told one story about the death of
the child and the ploughmen [266]another, and he charged her to
speak the truth as to what she had seen. The Goala’s bride
answered that she was ready to take an oath and to swear by her donkey:
if she spoke the truth the donkey would turn into a man, and if she
lied it would retain its shape. “If you take that oath,”
said the Raja, “the case shall be decided accordingly.”
Then the Goala’s wife began to tell all that she had seen and how
the ploughmen were angry because their dinner was late, and how the
maid-servant had gone to the well to draw water and had strangled her
child by mistake and had then knocked over the basket and charged the
ploughmen with the murder. “If I have lied may Chando punish me
and if I have spoken the truth may this ass become a man;” so
saying she laid her hand on the back of the animal and it at once
resumed its human shape.

This was sufficient to convince the Raja, who turned to the
maid-servant and reproached her with trying to ruin the ploughmen by
her false charge. She had no answer to make but took up the dead body
of the child and went out without a word.

Thus the Goala was restored to his original shape, but he and his
faithful wife did not return to their own relations; they took service
with a farmer of that country and after a time they saved money and
took some land and lived prosperously and well. From that time men of
the Goala caste have always been very careful to treat cattle well.

[Contents]

LXXXVIII. The Telltale Wife.

Once upon a time a man was setting out in his best clothes to attend
a village meeting. As he was passing at the back of the house his
maid-servant happened to throw a basket of cowdung on the manure heap
and some of it accidentally splashed his clothes. He thought
[267]that he would be laughed at if he went to the
meeting in dirty clothes so he went back to change them; and he put the
dirty cloth he took off in an earthen pot and covered the mouth with
leaves and hung it to the roof of the room in which he and his wife
slept.

Two or three days later his wife began to question him as to what
was in the pot hanging from the roof. At first he refused to tell her;
but every time she set eyes on it she renewed her questioning; for a
time he refused to gratify her curiosity, saying that no woman could
keep a secret, but she protested that she would tell no one; her
husband’s secrets were her own; at last he pretended that his
patience was worn out and having made her promise never to tell a soul,
he said “I have killed a man, and to prevent the murder being
traced I cut off his head and hid it in that pot; mind you do not say a
word or my life will be forfeit.”

For a time nothing more was said, but one day husband and wife had a
quarrel; high words and blows passed between them and at last the woman
ran out of the house, crying: “You have struck me, I shall let it
be known that you are a murderer.” She went to the village
headman and told him what was hidden in the pot; the villagers
assembled and bound the supposed murderer with ropes and took him to
the police. The police officer came and took down the pot and found in
it nothing but a stained cloth. So he fined the headman for troubling
him with false information and went away. Then the man addressed his
fellow-villagers in these words “Listen to me: never tell a
secret to a woman and be careful in your conversation with them; they
are sure to let out a secret and one day will turn your
accusers.”

From that time we have learnt the lesson that anything which you
tell to a woman will become known. [268]

[Contents]

LXXXIX. The Bridegroom Who Spoke in Riddles.

Once upon a time there were two brothers; the elder was named
Bhagrai and was married, but the younger, named Kora, was still a
bachelor. One day Bhagrai’s wife asked her husband when he
intended to look out for a wife for Kora, for people would think it
very mean of them if they did not provide for his marriage. But to his
wife’s astonishment Bhagrai flatly refused to have anything to do
with the matter. He said that Kora must find a wife for himself. His
wife protested that that was impossible as Kora had no money of his
own, but Bhagrai would not listen to her and refused even to give Kora
his share in the family property.

Bhagrai’s cruel conduct was very distressing to his wife; and
one day as she was sitting picking the lice out of Kora’s head,
she began to cry and Kora felt her tears dropping on to his back; he
turned round and asked his sister-in-law why she was crying. She said
that she could not tell him, as it would only make him unhappy, but he
would not be put off and said that she had no right to have any secrets
from him and at last she told him that Bhagrai had said that he must
arrange his own marriage without any help from them. At this cruel news
Kora began to cry too and falling on his sister-in-law’s neck he
wept bitterly. Then he went and fetched his clothes and bow and arrows
and flute and what other little property he had, and told his
sister-in-law that he must go out into the world and seek his fortune,
for he would never get a wife by staying at home. So she tied up some
dried rice for him to eat by the way and let him go.

Kora set out and had not travelled far, before he fell in with an
old man who was travelling in the same [269]direction as himself
and they agreed to continue their way together. After walking some
miles, Kora said “I have a proposal to make: let us take it in
turns to carry each other: then we shall neither of us get tired and
shall do the journey comfortably.” The old man refused to have
anything to do with such an extraordinary arrangement: so on they went
and by and bye came to a tank which seemed a good place to rest and eat
some food by. The old man sat down at the steps leading down to the
water, but Kora went and sat on the bank where it was covered with
rough grass. Presently he called out “Friend, I do not like the
look of this tank: to whom does it belong?” The old man told him
the name of the owner, “Then why has he put no post in the middle
of it?” This question amazed his companion for there was the
usual post sticking up in the middle of the tank in front of them: he
began to think that he had fallen in with a lunatic: however he said
nothing and they went on together: and presently they passed a large
herd of cow-buffaloes: looking at them Kora said “Whose are
these: why have they no horns?” “But they have got horns:
what on earth do you mean by saying that they have not?” replied
his companion, Kora however persisted “No, there is not a horn
among them.” The old man began to lose his temper but they went
on and presently passed by a herd of cows, most of them with bells tied
round their necks. No sooner did Kora catch sight of them than he began
again “Whose can these cows be? Why have they not got bells
on?” “Look at the bells,” said the old man
“cannot you use your eyes?” “No,” said Kora,
“I cannot see a bell among them.” The old man did not think
it worth while to argue with him and at evening they reached the
village where he lived: and Kora asked to be allowed to stay with him
for the night. So they went to his house and sat down on a string
[270]bed in the cow-shed while the women folk brought
them out water to wash their feet. After sitting awhile, Kora suddenly
said “Father, why did you not put up a king post when you were
making this cow-shed?” Now at that very moment he was leaning
against the king post and the old man was too puzzled and angry at his
idiotic question to say anything: so he got up and went into the house
to tell his wife to put some extra rice into the pot for their visitor.
His wife and daughter at once began asking him who their guest was: he
said that he knew nothing about him except that he was an absolute
idiot. “What is the matter with him,” asked the daughter:
“he looks quite sensible”: then her father began to tell
her all the extraordinary things that Kora had said: how he had
proposed that they should carry each other in turn: and had declared
that there was no post in the middle of the tank: and that the
buffaloes had no horns and the cows no bells: and that there was no
king post to the cow house. His daughter listened attentively and then
said “I think it is you, father, who have been stupid and not our
guest: I understand quite well what he meant. I suppose that when he
proposed that you should carry each other, you had not been doing much
talking as you went along?” “That is so,” said her
father, “we had not spoken for a long time:” “Then
all he meant was that you should chat as you went along and so make the
way seem shorter: and as to the tank, were there any trees on its
banks?” “No, they were quite bare.” “Then that
is what he meant when he talked about the post: he meant that the tank
should have had trees planted round it: and as to the buffaloes and
cows, there was doubtless no bull with either herd.” “I
certainly did not notice one,” said her father. “Then that
is what he was talking about: I think that it was very stupid of you
not to understand [271]him.” “Then what does he mean
by the king post in the cow house” asked the old man. “He
meant that there was no cross beam from wall to wall,”
“Then you don’t think him a fool at all?” “No,
he seems to me very sensible.” “Then perhaps you would like
to have him for your husband?” “That is for you and my
mother to decide.”

So the old man went off to his wife and asked her what she thought
about the match and they both agreed that it would be very suitable:
the girl understood Kora’s riddles so well that they seemed made
for each other. So the next morning when Kora proposed to start off on
his journey again, the old man asked whether he would care to stay with
them and marry his daughter. Kora was delighted to find a wife so soon,
and readily agreed to work for five years in his father-in-law’s
house to win his bride: so a day was fixed for the betrothal ceremony,
and thus Kora succeeded in arranging his own marriage.

[Contents]

XC. The Lazy Man.

Once upon a time three brothers lived together: the youngest of them
was named Kora and he was the laziest man alive: he was never willing
to do any work but at meal times he was always first on the spot. His
laziness began to drag the family down in the world, for they could not
afford to feed a man who did no work. His two elder brothers were
always scolding him but he would not mend his ways: however the
scolding annoyed him and one day he ran away from home.

He had become so poor that he had nothing on but a loin cloth: it
was the middle of winter and when the evening drew on he began to
shiver with cold: so he was very glad when he came to a village to see
a group of herdboys sitting round a fire in the village street,
[272]roasting field rats. He went up to them and sat
down by the fire to warm himself. The herd boys gave him some of the
rats to eat and when they had finished their feast went off to their
homes to sleep. It was nice and warm by the fire and Kora was too lazy
to go round the village looking for some one who would take him in for
the night: so he made up his mind to go to sleep by the fire. He curled
himself up beside it and was about to take off his waist cloth to
spread over himself as a sheet when he found a bit of thread which he
had tied up in one of the corners of the cloth. “Why!”
thought he “cloth is made of thread: so this thread must be
cloth! I will use it as a sheet.” So he tied one end of the
thread round his big toe and wound the other end round his ears and
stretching himself out at full length soon fell asleep.

During the night the fire died down and a village dog which was on
the prowl came and coiled itself up on the warm ashes and also went to
sleep alongside Kora.

Now the headman of that village was a well-to-do man with much land
under cultivation and a number of servants, and as it was the time when
the paddy was being threshed he got up very early in the morning to
start the work betimes. As he walked up the village street he came on
the man and dog lying fast asleep side by side. He roused up Kora and
asked him who he was and whether he did not find it very cold, lying
out in the open. “No” answered Kora, “I don’t
find it cold: this is my dog and he has eaten up all my cold: he will
eat up the cold of a lakh of people.” The headman at once thought
that a dog that could do this would be a very useful animal to possess:
he had to spend a lot of money in providing clothes for his farm
labourers and yet they all suffered from the cold, while if he could
get hold of the dog he and all his household would be permanently warm:
so he asked [273]Kora what price he set on the dog. Kora said
that he would sell it for fifty lakhs of rupees and no less: he would
not bargain about the matter: the headman might take it or leave it as
he liked. The headman agreed to the terms and taking Kora to his house
paid him over the money. Kora made no delay in setting off homewards
and when he arrived the first thing he did was to tell his brothers to
find him a wife as he had now enough money to pay all the expenses of
his marriage. When his brothers found that the lazy one of the family
had come home with such a fortune they gave him a very different
reception from what they used to before, and set to work to arrange his
marriage and the three brothers all lived happily ever after.

Meanwhile the headman who had bought the dog sent for his labourers
and told them of his luck in finding such a valuable animal. He bade
them tie it up at the door of the hut on the threshing floor in which
they slept: and in the morning to lead it round with them as they drove
the oxen that trod out the grain, and then they would none of them feel
cold. That night the labourers put the matter to the test but although
the dog was tied up by the door the men in the hut shivered all night
long as usual. Then in the morning they one after the other tried
leading the dog as they drove the oxen round the threshing floor but it
did not make them any warmer, so they soon got tired and tied the dog
up again. Presently their master came along and asked what they had
done with the dog and was told that the animal would not eat up the
cold at all. The headman would not believe that he had been duped and
began to lead the dog round to try for himself. Only too soon he had to
admit that it made no difference. So, in a rage he caught up a stick
and beat the poor dog to death. Thus he lost his money and got well
laughed at by all the village for his folly. [274]

[Contents]

XCI. Another Lazy Man.

Once upon a time there was a man named Kora who was so lazy that his
brothers turned him out of the house and he had to go out into the
world to seek his fortune. At first he tried to get some other young
man of the village to keep him company on his travels but they all
refused to have anything to do with such a lazy fellow, so he had to
set out alone. However, he was resolved to have a companion of some
sort, so when he came to a place where a crab had been burrowing he set
to work and dug it out of the ground and took it along with him, tied
up in his cloth.

He travelled on for days and weeks until he came to a country which
was being devastated by a Rakhas who preyed on human beings, and the
Raja of the country had proclaimed that any one who could kill the
Rakhas should have one of his sisters in marriage and a large grant of
land. Kora however knew nothing of all this and that evening he camped
for the night under a tree on the outskirts of a village. Presently the
villagers came out and begged him to come and spend the night in one of
their houses, as it was impossible for a man to sleep safely in the
open by himself. “Do not trouble about me,” said Kora,
“I am not alone: I have a companion and we two shall be quite
safe together.” The villagers saw no one with him and could not
understand what he was talking about, but as he would not listen to
them they had to leave him to his fate.

Night came on and as usual Kora untied the crab from his cloth and
soon fell asleep. About midnight the Rakhas came prowling along and
seeing Kora sleeping alone made towards him. But the crab rushed at the
Rakhas and climbing up his body seized his neck [275]with
its claws and slit the windpipe. Down fell the Rakhas and lay kicking
on the ground. The noise awoke Kora, who seized a big stone and dashed
out the brains of the Rakhas. He then cut off the tips of the ears and
tongue and claws and wrapped them up in his cloth and lay down to sleep
again with the crab in his bosom.

At dawn the chowkidar of the village, who was a Dome, came on his
rounds and found the Rakhas lying dead. He thought that it would be
easy for him to obtain the credit of having killed it: so he cut off
one of the legs and hurrying home told his wife and children to clear
out of the house at once: he had nothing more to do with them, as he
was going to marry the Raja’s sister and become a great
landowner. Then he rushed out into the village, shouting out that he
had killed the Rakhas. The villagers all went to see the dead body and
found it lying near the tree under which they had left Kora to spend
the night. They were not quite convinced that the Dome’s story
was true and asked Kora who had really killed the Rakhas. He declined
to answer but asked that he and the Dome might both be taken to the
Raja, and then proof would be forthcoming as to who was really entitled
to the Reward.

So the villagers took up the dead body and carried it off to the
Raja, taking Kora and the Dome with them. The Raja asked what proof
there was as to who had killed the Rakhas: and first the Dome produced
the leg which he had cut off; but Kora unrolled his cloth and showed
the ears and tongue and claws of the Rakhas. It was at once seen that
the leg which the Dome had brought wanted the claws, so his fraud was
clearly proved and he was driven from the assembly with derision and
had to go and humbly make his peace with the wife whom he had turned
out of his house. But the nuptials of Kora and the Raja’s sister
took place at once [276]and they were given a fine palace to live
in and a large tract of country for their own.

Kora never allowed himself to be separated from his faithful crab
and this led to his life being saved a second time. A few nights after
he was married, Kora was lying asleep with the crab upon his breast,
when two snakes began to issue from the nostrils of his bride: their
purpose was to kill Kora but when they saw the watchful crab they drew
in their heads again. A few minutes later they again looked out: then
the crab went and hid under the chin of the Princess and when the
snakes put out their heads far enough it seized both of them with its
claws: the snakes wriggled and struggled until they came entirely out
of the nose of the princess and were dragged to the floor where the
crab strangled them. In the morning Kora awoke and saw what the crab
had done: he asked what he could do to show his gratitude to his
faithful friend, and the crab asked to be set free in some pond which
never dried up and that Kora would rescue it if any one ever succeeded
in catching it. So Kora chose a tank and set the crab free and every
day he used to go and bathe in that tank and the crab used to come and
meet him.

After living in luxury for a time Kora went with a grand procession
of horses and elephants to visit his industrious brothers who had
turned him out of their home for laziness, and he showed them that he
had chosen the better part, for they would never be able to keep horses
and elephants for all their industry: so he invited them to come and
live with him on his estate and when they had reaped that year’s
crops they went with him.

[Contents]

XCII. The Widow’s Son.

Once upon a time there was a poor woman whose husband died suddenly
from snake bite, leaving her [277]with one little girl. At the time
she was expecting another child and every day she lamented the loss of
her husband and prayed to Chando that the child she should bear might
be a son: but fresh troubles came upon her, for when her
husband’s brothers saw that she was with child they declared that
she had been unfaithful to her husband and had murdered him to conceal
her shame: and although they had no proof of this, they seized on all
their dead brother’s property and land and left the widow nothing
but the bare house to live in.

But Chando had pity on her and when her time was full a boy was born
to her. She gave thanks to Chando and devoted herself to bringing up
the child. The boy grew up and learned to walk and talk and one day he
asked his mother where his father was. She told him that a snake had
bitten his father before he was born. Thereupon the boy embraced her
and told her not to cry as he would support her and take the place of
his father. The mother was filled with wonder and gratitude at the
boy’s intelligence.

In answer to her daily prayers she met with kindness at all hands:
when she went out working her employers gave her extra wages: when she
went gleaning something extra was left for her, and if she had to beg
no one refused to give her alms, so in time she was able to get
together some household requisites and start keeping fowls and pigs. By
selling these she saved enough money to buy goats and sheep: and in
course of time was able to think of buying a cow.

By that time her son—whom she called Bhagraihad grown up to be
a boy and took an interest in all that went on: so he asked his mother
how he could tell when to buy a heifer. She said that if when the
seller was showing a cow to an intending purchaser the animal dropped
dung, it should be bought without hesitation, as such a cow was sure to
take kindly to its [278]new home and to have plenty of calves:
another equally good sign was if the cow had nine teeth. Thereupon
Bhagrai declared that he would set out to buy a cow and be guided in
his choice by these signs and not come back till he found one. His
mother thought that he was too young to undertake such a business but
at last yielded to his entreaties. Then he tried to get some one in the
village to go with him on his expedition but no one of his own friends
or relations would go, so he had to arrange with a man of the
blacksmith caste to keep him company.

Early one morning they set out, enquiring as they went along whether
any one had a cow for sale. For a long time they were unsuccessful but
after passing right through the territories of one Raja, they at length
came to a village where they heard of a heifer for sale. As they were
examining it it dropped dung, and on inspection its mouth showed nine
teeth. Bhagrai at once declared that he must buy it and would not
listen to the blacksmith who tried to dissuade him because, although
the animal was full grown, it had had no calf and was probably barren.
Bhagrai however preferred to be guided by the signs of which his mother
had told him, and after a certain amount of haggling bought the animal
for five rupees. The money was paid and he and the blacksmith set off
homewards with the cow.

Night overtook them and they turned into a village and asked to be
allowed to sleep in the verandah of one of the houses: and permission
being given they tied the cow to a post and went to sleep. In the
middle of the night the owner of the house came and took away their cow
and tied an old and worthless one of his own in its place. On waking in
the morning Bhagrai and the blacksmith saw at once what had happened
and charged the owner of the house with the theft. He vehemently denied
all knowledge of the [279]matter and after they had quarrelled for a
long time went to call the villagers to arbitrate between them. But he
took care to promise the headman and leading villagers a bribe of five
rupees if they decided the case in his favour: so the result was a
foregone conclusion and the arbitrators told Bhagrai to take away the
old worthless cow.

He however refused to accept the decision and said that he would go
and find two people to represent him on the panchayat. The villagers
raised no objection for they knew that he was a stranger, and thought
that they could easily convince any persons he might pick up. Bhagrai
set off towards a village he saw in the distance but lost his way in
the jungle, and as he was wandering about he came on two jackals. On
seeing him they started to run but he called to them to stop and
telling them all that had happened asked them to come to the panchayat.
The jackals answered that it was clear that the villagers had been
bribed, but they would come and do what was possible. They told him to
bring the villagers with both the cows to a big banyan tree outside the
village. All the villagers went out to meet the jackals and Bhagrai
stood up in the midst and began to explain his grievance.

Meanwhile the jackals sat quite still, seeming to take no interest
in what was going on. “A fine pair these are to have on a
panchayat” said the villagers to each other, “they are
nearly asleep: they have been up all night catching crabs and
grasshoppers and now are too tired to keep awake.”
“No,” said one jackal, “we are not as sleepy as you
think: we are quite willing to take a part in deciding this dispute:
but the fact is that I and my wife have a quarrel and we want you first
to decide that for us and then we will take up the question of the cow;
if you villagers can settle our difference satisfactorily we shall be
able to conclude [280]that you have given a fair judgement on the
complaint of this orphan boy.”

The villagers told him to continue and he explained “I and my
wife always go about together: we eat at the same time and drink at the
same time and yet she drops dung twice a day while I do so only once:
what is the reason of this?” The villagers could think of no
answer and the jackal bade them ask his wife: so they laughed and asked
whether it was true that she dropped dung twice to the
he-jackal’s once. But the jackal reproved them for their levity,
wise men of old had said that it was wrong to jest when men of weight
met to decide a dispute; so they became serious and the she-jackal
answered “It is true that I drop dung twice to his once: there is
an order laid on me to do so: I drop dung once at the same time that he
does: that excrement falls to the ground and stays there: but the
second time the excrement falls into the mouths of the ancestors of
those men who take bribes and do injustice to the widow and orphan and
when such bribetakers reach the next world they will also have to eat
it. If however they confess their sin and ask pardon of me they will be
let off the punishment: this is the reason why I have been ordered to
drop dung twice.” “Now you have heard what she has to
say” put in the he-jackal “what to you think of the
explanation? I hope that there are no such bribetakers among you: if
there are they had better confess at once.”

Then all the villagers who had agreed to take a share of the bribe
and had helped to rob the boy of his cow confessed what they had done
and declared that the boy should have his cow again, and they fined the
thief five rupees. So Bhagrai and the blacksmith went gladly on their
way and the blacksmith soon told all his neighbours of the two
wonderful [281]jackals who talked like men and had compelled
the villagers to restore the stolen cow. “Ah” said the
boy’s mother “they were not jackals, they were
Chando,” When Bhagrai’s uncles heard all this and saw how
he and his mother had prospered in spite of the loss of all their
property, they became frightened and gave back the land and cattle
which they had taken, without waiting for them to be claimed.

[Contents]

XCIII. The Boy Who Was Changed into a Dog.

Once upon a time there were seven brothers: the six eldest were
married, but the youngest was only a youth and looked after the cattle.
The six married brothers spent their life in hunting and used often to
be away from home for one or two months at a time. Now all their six
wives were witches and directly their husbands left home the six women
used to climb a peepul tree and ride away on it, to eat men or do some
other devilry. The youngest brother saw them disappear every day and
made up his mind to find out what they did. So one morning he hid in a
hollow in the trunk of the peepul tree and waited till his
sisters-in-law came and climbed up into the branches: then the tree
rose up and was carried through the air to the banks of a large river,
where the women climbed down and disappeared. After a time they came
back and climbed into the tree and rode on it back to the place where
it came from. But as they descended they saw their brother-in-law
hiding in the trunk and at first they tried to make him promise not to
tell what he had seen, but he swore that he would let his brothers know
all about it: so then they thought of killing him, but in the end the
eldest said that this was not necessary and she fetched two iron nails
and drove them into the soles of his feet whereupon he at once became a
dog. [282]He could understand all that was said but of
course could not speak. He followed them home and they treated him well
and always gave him a regular helping at meals as if he were a human
being and did not merely throw him the scraps as if he were a dog: nor
would he have eaten them if they had.

A month afterwards the other brothers came home and asked if all had
gone well in their absence. Their wives said that all was well except
that the youngest brother had unfortunately disappeared without leaving
any trace. While they were talking the dog came up and fawned on the
brothers, so they asked where it had come from and the women said that
it had followed them home on the day that they were looking for the
missing boy: and they had kept it ever since. So matters rested: the
brothers searched high and low but could not find the missing boy and
so gave up the quest.

Now the Raja of that country had three daughters whom he had tried
in vain to get married: whenever a bridegroom was proposed to them they
declared that he was not to their liking and they would have nothing to
do with him. At last their father said that as they would not let him
choose husbands for them, they must make the choice themselves: he
proposed to assemble all the men in his kingdom on a certain day and
there and then they must take to themselves husbands.

So proclamation was made that all the men were to assemble outside
the palace and that three of them would receive the Raja’s
daughters in marriage without having to pay any brideprice. On the
fixed day a great crowd collected and among others went the six
brothers: and the dog followed them. Then the three princesses were
brought out and three flies were caught: round one fly was tied a piece
of white thread for the eldest princess and round the second fly a red
thread for the second princess: and round the last fly a blue thread
[283]for the youngest princess. Then the three
princesses solemnly promised that each would marry the man on whom the
fly marked with her colour settled, and the flies were let loose. The
red fly and the blue fly soon settled on two of the men sitting in the
crowd but the white fly flew high in the air and circled round and at
last settled on the dog which was sitting beside the six brothers.

At this the crowd laughed and jeered but the eldest princess said
that she must accept what fate had decreed and that she would marry the
dog. So the betrothal ceremony of the three princesses took place at
once, soon followed by their weddings. The husbands of the two youngest
princesses took their brides home, but the eldest princess stayed in
her father’s house with her dog.

One day after its dinner the dog was lying on its side asleep and
the princess chanced to see the heads of the iron nails in its feet:
“Ah,” thought she, “that is why the poor dog
limps.” So she ran and fetched a pair of pincers and pulled out
the nails: no sooner had she done so than the dog was restored to its
human shape and the princess was delighted to find that not only was he
a man but also very handsome: and they settled down to live happily
together.

Some months later the six brothers resolved to go and visit the
Raja, so that the princess might not feel that the dog she had married
had no friends in the world. Off they set and when they reached the
Raja’s palace they were amazed to find their younger brother and
still more so when they heard the story of all that had happened to
him.

They immediately decided to take vengeance on their wives and when
they reached home gave orders for a large well to be dug: when it was
ready they told their wives to join in the consecration ceremony which
was to ensure a pure and plentiful supply of water: so the [284]six
witches went to the well and while their attention was occupied, their
husbands pushed them all into the well and filled it up with earth and
that was the end of the witches.

[Contents]

XCIV. Birluri and Birbanta.

Birluri was of the Goala caste and Birbanta of the oilman’s
caste. And this is the story of their fight.

Birluri was very rich, with great herds of cattle and buffaloes but
Birbanta’s wealth consisted in tanks and ponds. Birluri used
every day to water his cattle at Birbanta’s ponds: and this made
Birbanta very angry: he felt it an injustice that though Birluri was so
rich he would not dig his own ponds: so he sent word that Birluri must
stop watering his cattle or he would be killed. Birluri answered the
messengers that he was quite ready to fight Birbanta: for though
Birbanta had made the tanks, it was God who had made the water in them
and so he considered that his cattle had a perfect right to drink the
water. When Birbanta heard this he fell into a rage and vowed that he
would not let the cattle drink, but would kill every living thing that
went down to the water. From that day he let no one drink from his
tanks: when women went to draw water he used to smash their water pots
and put the rims round their necks like necklaces: all wild birds and
animals he shot: and the cattle and buffaloes he cut down with his axe:
and at last he proceeded to kill any human beings who went there.

When the Raja of the country heard this he was very angry and bade
his sipahis search for some one strong enough to overcome and
kill Birbanta: and he promised as a reward the hand of one of his
daughters and half his kingdom. So the sipahis made proclamation
all through the country and at last Birluri heard of it and
[285]volunteered to fight Birbanta. Then the Raja
fixed a day for the fight, so that all the country might know and
Birbanta also have due warning.

Both the combatants made ready for the fray: Birbanta was armed with
a sword and a shield like a cart wheel and was skilful at sword play,
while Birluri’s weapon was the quarter-staff. The day arrived and
Birluri girded up his loins and set out, twirling his staff round his
head. Now his father and mother were both dead; but on the road his
mother met him in the guise of an old woman, so that he did not
recognise her. She greeted him and asked where he was going and when
she heard that it was to fight Birbanta she said “My son, you are
very strong: but if he asks for water do not give it him, for if you
do, he will assuredly kill you: but when he throws away his sword, do
you make haste and take it and slay him with it.” So saying she
went on her way and when Birluri came within a kos of the
fighting place he began to twirl his staff and he made such a cloud of
dust that it became dark as night and in the darkness the staff gleamed
like lightning.

When Birbanta saw this he rose up and shouted “Here comes my
enemy: I will fight my best and we will see who will conquer” and
when he saw Birluri armed only with a quarter-staff he felt sure that
he would not be overcome by such a weapon: so he grasped his sword and
took his shield on his arm and went out to the fight The fray was fast
and furious: Birbanta hacked and hacked with his sword but Birluri
caught all the blows on his quarterstaff and took no injury. At last
the end of the staff was hacked off leaving a sharp point: then Birluri
transfixed Birbanta with the pointed end and Birbanta faltered: again
he thrust him through and Birbanta acknowledged himself defeated,
saying “My life is yours: let me drink some water at your hands
before you kill me.” So Birluri [286]agreed to a truce and
they stopped fighting. Then Birluri cut down a palm tree and dipped it
into Birbanta’s tank and holding out the end to Birbanta told him
to suck it. Birbanta refused to take it and asked him to give him water
in his hands: but Birluri remembered his mother’s warning and
refused. Then Birbanta in despair threw away his sword and shield and
Birluri snatched up the sword and smote off his head: and this is the
song of victory which Birluri sang.—

“Birbanta stopped the ghat for the golden
oxen—

The dust is raised up to heaven!

Birbanta sat by the ghat of the oxen—

The lightning is flashing in the sky!

He has made an embankment: he has made a tank:

But the water he collected in it, has become his
enemy!”

Then Birluri was taken to the Raja and married to one of the
Raja’s daughters and given one half of the Raja’s
kingdom.

After a time Birluri told his wife that they must go back to his
home to look after the large herds of cattle which he had left behind
him. But his wife laughed at him and would not believe that he owned so
much property: then Birluri said that if she would not go with him he
would call the cattle to come to him: so he called them all by name and
the great herd came running to the Raja’s palace and filled the
whole barn yard and as there was no room for them to stay there, they
went away into the jungle and became wild cattle.

[Contents]

XCV. The Killing of the Rakhas.

Once upon a time a certain country was ravaged by a Rakhas to such
an extent that there were only the Raja and a few ryots left. When
things came to this pass, the Raja saw that something must be done: for
he could not be left alone in the land. Ryots need a [287]Raja
and a Raja needs ryots: if he had no ryots where was he to get money
for his support: and he repeated the verse of the poet Kalidas:

“When the jungle is destroyed, the deer are in
trouble without jungle:

When the Raja is destroyed, the ryots are in trouble
without their Raja:

When the good wife of the house is destroyed, good
fortune flees away.”

So thinking the Raja made a proclamation throughout all the land
that if any one could kill the Rakhas he would reward him with the hand
of one of his daughters and half his kingdom. This proclamation was
read out by the headman of a certain village to the assembled villagers
and among the crowd was a mischievous youth, named Jhalka, who when he
heard the proclamation called out that he could kill the Rakhas in ten
minutes. The villagers turned on him “Why don’t you go and
do so: then you would marry the Raja’s daughter and we should all
bow down to you.” At the thought of this Jhalka began to skip
about crying “I will finish him off in no time.” The
headman heard him and took him at his word and wrote to the Raja that
in his village there was a man who undertook to kill the Rakhas. When
Jhalka heard this he hurried to the headman and explained that he had
only been joking. “I cannot treat such things as a joke”
answered the headman: “Don’t you know that this is a
Raja’s matter: to deal with Rajas is the same as to deal with
bongas: you may make a promise to the bongas in jest, but
they will not let you off it on that plea. You are much too fond of
playing the fool.”

Ten or twelve days later sipahis came from the Raja to fetch Jhalka:
he told them that he had only spoken in jest and did not want to go to
the Raja, but they took him away all the same. [288]

Before he started he picked out a well-tempered battle axe and
begged his father to propitiate the bongas and pray that he
might be saved from the Rakhas. When he was produced before the Raja,
Jhalka again tried to explain that there had been a mistake, but the
Raja told him that he would be taken at his word and must go and kill
the Rakhas. Then he saw that there was nothing left for him but to put
his trust in God: so he asked that he might be given two mirrors and a
large box and when these were brought he had the box taken to the foot
of a large banyan tree which grew by a ford in the river which flowed
by the hill in which the Rakhas lived: it was at this ford that the
Rakhas used to lie in wait for prey.

Left alone there Jhalka put one of the mirrors into the box and then
tightened his cloth and climbed the banyan tree with his battle axe and
the other mirror. He was not at all happy as he waited for the
Rakhas,
thinking of all the people who had been killed as they passed along the
road below the tree: however he was determined to outwit the Rakhas if
he could. All night long he watched in vain but just at dawn the Rakhas
appeared. At the sight of him Jhalka shook so much with fright that the
branches of the tree swayed. The Rakhas smelt that there was a human
being about and looking up into the tree saw the branches waving.
“Ha,” said he, “here is my breakfast.”’
Jhalka retorted “Ha! here is another Rakhas to match those I have
got” “What are you talking about?” asked the Rakhas:
“I am glad to have met you at last” returned Jhalka.
“Why?” asked the Rakhas, “and what are you trembling
for?” “I am trembling with rage: we shall now see whether I
am to eat you or you are to eat me.”

“Come down and try.”

“No, you come up here and try.”

Jhalka would not leave the tree and the Rakhas would [289]not
climb it: so they waited. At last the Rakhas asked “Who are you? I have
seen a thousand men like you” And Jhalka answered “Who are
you? I have seen a thousand like you.” At this the Rakhas began
to hesitate and wonder whether Jhalka was really his equal in strength,
so he changed the subject and asked what the big box was. “That
is the box into which I put Rakhases like you when I catch them; I have
got plenty more at home.” “How many are there in the
box?” “Two or three.”

The Rakhas asked to see them, but Jhalka would not leave the tree
until the Rakhas had sworn an oath to do him no harm; then he came down
and opened the box and made the Rakhas look into the mirror inside the
box; and he also held up the second mirror saying that there was
another Rakhas. The Rakhas was fascinated at the sight of his own
reflection; when he grinned or opened his mouth the reflection did the
same; and while he was amusing himself with making different grimaces
Jhalka suddenly cut him down with the battleaxe, and he fell down dead.
Then Jhalka cut off the ears and tongue and toes and hastened with them
to the Raja. When it was found that the Rakhas was really dead the Raja
assembled all his subjects and in their presence married Jhalka to his
daughter and made over to him half the kingdom and gave him horses and
elephants and half of everything in his palace.

[Contents]

XCVI. The Children and the Vultures.

Once upon a time all the women of a village went to the jungle to
gather karla fruit; and one of them was pregnant. In the jungle
she felt that her time was come and she went aside without telling any
of her friends and gave birth to twin boys. The other women went on
gathering fruit and when they had filled their [290]baskets and were on their way home they noticed
that one of their number was missing, but as it was late they were
afraid to go back and look for her, and besides they felt sure that she
must have been devoured by some wild animal.

Meanwhile the mother of the twins began to call to her friends, but
they were far out of hearing; so she debated whether she should carry
home the two babes or her basket of karla fruit; she did not
feel strong enough to carry both the infants in her arms and so she
decided to take the basket of fruit, especially as she would probably
have plenty more children, while the karla fruit could not be
replaced. She covered the twins with leaves of the Asan tree and went
home.

But when her husband heard what had happened he was very angry, and
scolded her well; she could easily have thrown away the fruit and
carried home the children in the basket instead of taking so much
trouble about the karla fruit, as if no one had ever seen any
before. He wanted to take a few friends and go and look for the
children at once; but his father and mother begged him not to risk his
life in the jungle at night; the woman had been a fool but that could
not be remedied; people must learn by experience; as the Hindu proverb
says “When your caste goes, wisdom comes.” They could not
allow the breadwinner of the family to risk his life; though the roof
and doors of the house had gone, the walls remained; as long as the
tree stood new branches would grow; but if the tree fell there was no
more hope; so in the end the children were left where they were.

No sooner had the mother gone than a pair of king vultures swooped
down to make a meal of the children but they cried so pitifully that
the vultures had hot the heart to kill them but instead carried them up
to their nest and brought them food: and nurtured them. [291]And
when the children began to walk they carried them down to the ground
and when they were big enough to take care of themselves they told them
to go into the neighbouring villages and beg; but they forbade them to
go towards the village in which their real parents lived. So every day
the two boys went out begging, and as they went from house to house,
they sang:—

“Our mother took away the karla fruit

She covered us up with Asan leaves.

The pair of King vultures

Reared us.—Give us alms.”

And people had pity on them and gave them enough to live on. One day
the two boys thought that they would go and see what the country was
like in the direction which had been forbidden to them; so they set out
singing their usual song, and when they came to the house where their
mother lived she heard them sing and knew that they must be her
children; so she called them and bathed them and oiled their bodies and
told them that she was their mother and they were very glad to stay
with her.

But when the children did not return, the vultures flew in search of
them and circled round and round in the air looking for them. The
mother saw them and knew what they wanted, so she took the children
into the house and hid them under a large basket. But the vultures flew
down to the house and tore a hole in the thatch and entered through it
and overturned the basket and seized the children. Then the father and
mother also caught hold of them and the vultures pulled and the parents
pulled until the children were torn in two and the vultures flew away
with the portions they had secured. The father and mother sorrowfully
burnt on a pyre the remains of the children that were left to them.

The vultures when they reached their nest were [292]unwilling to eat the flesh of the children they
had reared, so they set fire to their nest; but as the flames rose
high, some juice spirted out from the burning flesh on to the vultures
and they tasted it and found it so good that they pulled the rest of
the flesh out of the flames and ate it, and from that time vultures
feed on human bodies.

[Contents]

XCVII. The Ferryman.

There was once a ferryman who plied a ferry across a big river, and
he had two wives. By the elder wife he had five sons and by the younger
only one. When he grew old he gave up work himself and left his sons to
manage the boats; but the step-brothers could not agree and were always
quarrelling. So the father gave one boat to the son of the younger wife
and told him to work it by himself at a separate crossing higher up the
river, while the five other brothers plied to old ferry.

It turned out that most passengers used to cross at the youngest
brother’s ferry and as he had no one to share the profits with
him, his earnings were very large. Because of this he used to jeer at
his other brothers who were not so well off. This made them hate him
more than ever, and they resolved to be revenged; so one day when he
was alone in the boat they set it adrift down the river without any
oars.

As he drifted helplessly down the river he saw a river snake, as
long as the river was broad, waiting for him with open mouth. He
thought that his last hour had come, but he seized a knife which was in
the boat and waited. When the stream brought him within reach, the
snake swallowed him, boat and all, and swam to the bank. When he felt
the snake climbing up the bank he began to cut his way out of its
stomach with his knife, and soon made a wound which killed the snake
[293]and enabled him to make his way out and pull out
the boat. Then he looked about him and saw a large village near by; so
he went towards it to tell the villagers how he had killed the great
snake. But when he reached it he found it deserted; he went from house
to house but found no one. At last he came to a house in which there
was one girl, who told him that she was the only inhabitant left, as
the great river snake had eaten up all the other people. Then he told
her how he had killed the snake and took her to see its dead body. The
village was full of the wealth left by its former inhabitants; so he
and the girl decided to stay there, and there were such riches that
they lived like a Raja and Rani.

One morning his wife told him that she had had a dream, in which she
was warned that he must on no account go out towards the south of the
village; but he laughed at her, because he had up to that time moved
about wherever he liked without any harm. She begged him to listen to
her advice, because it was by her wisdom that she had saved her life
when every one else in the village had been killed, so for a few days
he obeyed her, but one morning he took a sword and went off towards the
south. He had not gone far when he came to a cow, which had fallen into
a pit, and it called to him. “Oh Brother, I have fallen into
great trouble; help me out and one day I will do the same to you, if
you ask my aid.” So he took pity on the cow and pulled it out.
Going on a little further he came to a buffalo which had stuck fast in
a bog and it also called to him for help and promised to do the like
for him in case of need. So he pulled it out of the mud, and went on
his way. Presently he came to a well and from the depths of the well a
man who had fallen into it cried to him for help; so he went and pulled
him up; but no sooner had the man reached the [294]surface than he turned and pushed his rescuer
down the well and ran away.

His wife waited and waited for his return and when he did not come,
she divined that he had gone towards the south in spite of her warning.
So she went to look for him and presently found him at the bottom of
the well. So she let down a rope and pulled him up and gave him a
scolding for his folly.

After this they thought it best to leave that country, so they
embarked on the boat and travelled back to his father’s
house.

[Contents]

XCVIII. Catching a Thief.

There was once a rich Raja; and in order to frighten away thieves
whenever he woke up at night he used to call out—

“What are you people saying? I know all about
it:

You are digging the earth and throwing the earth
away:

I know all about it: you are skulking there scraping a
hole.”

One night a gang of thieves really came and began to dig a hole
through the mud wall of the Raja’s house. And while they were at
work the Raja woke up and called out as usual. The thieves thought that
they were discovered and bolted. The next morning the hole they had
been making was found, and the Raja ordered his sipahies to catch the
thieves. The head of all the thieves was a Bhuyan by caste and for five
rupees he would catch any thief you wanted. So the sipahies were told
to bring this Bhuyan and they went to a potter and asked. “Ho,
maker of pots, he who makes whole paddy into china: where does
he live?” And the potter answered. “He who heats pewter;
his house is over there.” Following this direction they found the
Bhuyan and he caught the thieves for them. [295]

[Contents]

XCIX. The Grasping Raja.

There was once a Raja who was very rich. He was a stern man and
overbearing and would brook no contradiction. Not one of his servants
or his subjects dared to question his orders; if they did so they got
nothing but abuse and blows. He was a grasping man too; if a cow or a
goat strayed into his herds he would return the animal if its owner
claimed in the same day; but he would not listen to any claim made
later. He was so proud that he thought that there was no one in the
world wiser than himself.

It happened that a certain man living in the kingdom of this Raja
lost a cow; one evening it did not come back to its stall from the
grazing-ground; so the next day he set out to search for it and
questioned every one he met. He soon got news that a cow like his had
been seen in the Raja’s herd. So he went to look, and there,
among the Raja’s cattle, he saw his own cow. He asked the cowherd
to let him take it away; but the cowherd refused to do so without a
written order from the Raja. So the owner went off to the Raja and
claimed his cow; but the Raja would not listen and gave him only abuse
and turned him out. Then he went to his friends and asked them to help
him but they were afraid to do anything and advised him to regard the
cow as lost for good.

So the unfortunate man took his way homeward very unhappily; on the
way he sat down by the bank of a stream and began to bewail his loss.
As he cried, Thakur took pity on him and sent a jackal to him. The
jackal came and asked why he was crying, and when it had heard the
story of the loss of the cow, it said “Cheer up! go back to the
Raja and tell him that you want a panchayat to settle the matter about
the cow; and that [296]you intend to call one whether he agrees to
abide by its decision or no. If he agrees, come back quickly to me and
I will arrange to get back your cow for you.” So off went the
owner of the cow to the Raja and told him that he wanted to call a
panchayat. The Raja made no objection and bade him call the neighbours
together. The poor man did so and then hurried off to the jackal and
told it how things had turned out. The jackal returned with him to the
outskirts of the city and then sent him to the Raja to say that the
panchayat must be held on the plain outside the city—for the
jackal was afraid of the dogs in the city.

When the Raja received this message it made him very angry, however
he went outside the city and met the panchayat and ordered them to get
to business quickly. Then the owner of the cow stood up and told his
story and the neighbours who had assembled called to him encouragingly,
but the jackal sat in the background and pretended to be asleep. When
the tale was finished, the Raja told the people who had assembled to
give their decision, but they were all so afraid of the Raja that not
one ventured to speak. As they kept silence the Raja turned to the
owner of the cow. “Well, where are the people who are going to
judge the case? No one here will say a word.” “That is my
judge,” said the man pointing to the jackal. “Why it is
fast asleep; what sort of a judge is that?” But just then the
jackal shook itself and said. “I have had a most remarkable
dream.” “There, he has been dreaming, instead of listening
to the case.” exclaimed the Raja.

“O Raja don’t be so scornful” said the jackal,
“I am a cleverer judge than you.” “You, who are you?
I have grown old in judging cases and finding out the truth; and you
dare to talk to me like that!” “Well,” retorted the
jackal, “if you are so clever guess the meaning of my dream; and
if you cannot, give the man [297]back his cow; if you can say what
it means, I will acknowledge that you are fit to be a Raja. This is
what I dreamt.—I saw three die in one place; one from sleepiness;
one from anger and one from greed. Tell me what were the three and how
did they come to be in one place.”

This riddle puzzled every one, but the friends of the man who had
lost his cow saw their opportunity and began to call out to the Raja to
be quick and give the answer. The Raja made several guesses, but the
jackal each time said that he was wrong, and asserted that the real
answer would strike every one present as satisfactory. The Raja was
completely puzzled and then suggested that there was no coherency in
dreams: if the jackal had had some meaningless dream, no one could
guess it. “No,” said the jackal, “you just now
laughed at the idea that any one should come to a panchayat and go to
sleep; and what you said was true; I would not really go to sleep on an
occasion like this; and I did not really dream. Now show that you are
cleverer than I; if you can, you keep the cow.”

The Raja thought and thought in vain, and at last asked to be told
the answer to the puzzle. First the jackal made him write out a promise
to restore the cow and to pay twenty-five rupees to the panchayat; and
then it began:—“In a forest lived a wild elephant and every
night it wandered about grazing and in the day it returned to its
retreat in a certain hill. One dawn as it was on its way back after a
night’s feeding, it felt so sleepy that it lay down where it was;
and it happened that its body blocked the entrance to a hole which was
a poisonous snake. When the snake wanted to come out and found the way
blocked, it got angry and in its rage bit the elephant and the elephant
died then and there. Presently a jackal came prowling by and saw the
elephant lying dead; it could not restrain itself [298]from
such a feast and choosing a place where the skin was soft began to tear
at the flesh. Soon it made such a large hole that it got quite inside
the elephant and still went on eating. But when the sun grew strong,
the elephant’s skin shrunk and closed the hole and the jackal
could not get out again and died miserably inside the elephant. The
snake too in its hole soon died from want of food and air. So the
elephant met its death through sleepiness and the snake through anger
and the jackal through greed. This is the answer to the puzzle, but
Chando prevented your guessing it, because you unjustly took the poor
man’s cow and as a lesson to you that he is lord of all, of the
poor and weak as well as of Rajas and Princes.”

When the jackal concluded all present cried out that the answer was
a perfect one; but the Raja said “I don’t think much of
that; I know a lot of stories like that myself.” However he had
to give back the cow and pay twenty-five rupees to the panchayat. In
gratitude to the jackal the owner of the cow bought a goat and gave it
to the jackal and then the jackal went away and was seen no more.

[Contents]

C. The Prince Who Would Not Marry.

There was once a Raja who in spite of having many wives was
childless; and his great desire was to have a son. He made many vows
and performed every ceremony that was recommended to him, but in vain.
At last a Jogi came to his kingdom and hearing of his case told him
that if he would pray to Thakur and give away to the poor one-fourth of
all his wealth, he should have a son.

The Raja followed the Jogi’s advice, and in due time his
youngest wife bore him a son; a son so fair and so beautiful that there
was no one on earth to match [299]him. When the boy grew up, they
began to think about his marriage and the Raja said that he would only
marry him to a bride as fair and as beautiful as himself. It did not
matter whether she were poor or rich, all that was needful was that she
should be a match for his son in looks. So messengers were sent out to
all the surrounding kingdoms to look for such a bride. They searched
for years; nine years, ten years passed and still no bride was found to
match in looks the Prince. After ten years had passed the Prince heard
of this search and he went to his father and announced that he did not
wish to marry; and that if he ever should wish to do so, he would find
a wife for himself.

The Raja was very angry at this and said that the Prince wished to
bring him to shame; every one would say that the Raja was too mean to
arrange a marriage for his only son. But the Prince was obstinate and
persisted that he did not wish the Raja to take any steps in the
matter. At this the Raja grew more and more angry, until at last he
ordered the Prince to be taken to prison and kept there, until he
promised to marry any one whom his father chose.

Every day the warders asked whether he would yield and every day he
refused; and it is impossible to say how long he would have languished
in prison, had not the wife of the Parganna of the Bongas come one
night to the prison with two other bongas. They began to talk about the
Prince’s hard case. The warders heard them talking, but could see
no one. The Bonga Parganna’s wife proposed that they should
provide a bonga bride for the Prince, for it was certain that no
human bride could be his match for beauty. The two bongas agreed that
it was a good idea but the Prince had declared that he would not marry
and that was a difficulty. “Let him see the bride I offer him and
see what happens” answered the old Bonga’s wife. So
the next [300]night when the Prince was asleep a beautiful
bonga maiden was brought to the prison and when he awoke he saw her
sitting by his side. He fell in love with her at first sight and
exchanging rings with her promised that she should be his wife.

Then the warders, who had been watching, ran to the Raja and told
him that the Prince had agreed to marry. The Raja came and took the
Prince and his bride out of the prison, and the wedding was celebrated
with great rejoicings throughout the kingdom.

[Contents]

CI. The Prince Who Found Two Wives.

There was once a Raja who had an only son. When the Prince grew up
the courtiers proposed to the Raja that he should arrange for his
son’s marriage; the Raja however wished to postpone it for a
time. So the courtiers used to laugh and say to the Prince “Wait
a little and we will find you a couple of wives;” the young man
would answer, “What is that? I can find them for myself. If you
offered to find me ten or twelve wives there would be something in
it.” The Raja heard of his boasting like this and was very angry
and said “Well if he is so sure that he can find a wife for
himself, let him do it;” and he took no further steps to arrange
for his son’s marriage.

Now the Prince had a most beautiful voice and used also to play on
the one-stringed lute. He used often to sit up half the night singing
and playing to himself. One night as he sat singing, he heard a laugh
and looking round saw a beautiful bonga girl. He asked who she
was and how she had come there, and she told him that she lived close
by and could not help coming to see who it was, who was singing so
beautifully. After that she used to visit the Prince every night, but
always disappeared before dawn. This went on for some [301]weeks and then the Prince asked her to stay and
be his wife. She agreed, provided he would first go to her home and see
her relations. So the next night he went with her; and found that her
father was also a Raja and very rich. He stayed there three or four
days; while his mysterious disappearance caused the greatest
consternation at his own home. However he returned quietly by night and
was found sleeping as usual in his bed one morning. Then he told his
parents all that had happened and how he had left his wife behind at
her father’s house.

Two or three days later the Prince fell very ill: every sort of
remedy was tried in vain. As he grew worse and worse, one day a
messenger came from his father-in-law and offered to cure him if he
were removed to his wife’s house. So he was carried thither and
when he arrived he found that his wife was also very ill; but directly
he was brought to where she lay, at the mere sight of each other they
both became well again.

After some months the Prince and his wife set out to return to their
own home. They were benighted on the way; so they tied their horses to
a tree and prepared to camp under it. The Prince went to a bazar to buy
provisions and while there, was arrested on a false charge and was sent
to prison. The Princess waited and waited and at last felt sure that
something must have detained him against his will. She would not leave
the spot, and to make it less likely that she should be molested, she
dressed herself as a man.

Some days passed and the Prince did not return; then one morning an
old woman passing by came and asked for a light for her hookah, and
stayed talking for some time. The old woman was struck by the sweet
face and gentle voice of the stranger, and on her return told the
daughter of the Raja of that country that there was a strange young
man, who looked and talked very [302]differently from any of the
young men of that neighbourhood. The Raja’s daughter was curious
to see him, and the next morning she went with the old woman and talked
with the disguised Princess. Before she left she was deeply in love
with him, and directly she reached home she sent word to her father
that she had seen the man whom she must marry. “It is of no use
to thwart one’s children,” said the Raja and at once sent
messengers to bring the stranger to marry his daughter.

When the disguised Princess was brought before the Raja, she said
that she had no objection to being married provided that it was done
according to the custom of her own country, and that was that the
vermilion should be applied to the bride’s forehead with a sword.
The Raja made no objection; so the Princess took her husband’s
sword and put vermilion on it and then applied it to the bride’s
forehead; and so the marriage was complete. But when the Princess was
left alone with her bride, she confessed that she was a woman and told
her all her history and how her husband had disappeared in the
bazar.

Then the Raja’s daughter went to her father and told him what
had happened and had enquiries made and speedily had the Prince
released from prison. Then the prince himself again put vermilion on
the forehead of the Raja’s daughter, and a few days later set off
home with both his wives. This was the way in which he found two wives
for himself, as he had boasted that he would.

[Contents]

CII. The Unfaithful Wife.

Once upon a time there were two brothers and as their wives did not
get on well together, they lived separately. After a time it came to
the ears of the elder brother that the younger brother’s wife was
carrying [303]on an intrigue with a certain Jugi; so he made
up his mind to watch her movements. One night he saw a white figure
leave his brother’s house and, following it quietly, he saw it go
into the Jugi’s house, and creeping nearer, he heard his
sister-in-law’s voice talking inside. He was much grieved at what
he had seen, but could not make up his mind to tell his brother.

One day the elder brother found that he had no milk in the house, as
all his cows had run dry; so he sent a servant to his brother’s
house to ask for some milk; but the younger brother’s wife
declined to give any, and sent word that her brother-in-law was quite
rich enough to buy milk cows if he wanted milk. The elder brother
said nothing at this rebuff, but after a time it happened that the
younger brother’s cows all became dry, and he in his turn sent to
his elder brother for milk. The elder brother’s wife was not
disposed to give it, but her husband bade her not bear malice and to
send the milk.

After this the elder brother sent for the other and advised him to
watch his wife and see where she went to at night. So that night the
younger brother lay awake and watched; and in the middle of the night
saw his wife get up very quietly and leave the house. He followed her;
as the woman passed down the village street, some Mahommedans, who had
been sitting up smoking ganja, saw her and emboldened by the drug set
out to see who it was, who was wandering about so late at night. The
woman took refuge in a clump of bamboos and pulled down one of the
bamboos to conceal herself. The Mahommedans surrounded the clump but
when they saw the one bamboo which the woman held shaking, while all
the rest were still—for it was a windless night—they
concluded that it was an evil spirit that they were pursuing and ran
away in a panic.

When they were gone, the woman came out from the bamboos and went on
to the Jugi’s house. Her husband [304]who had been watching
all that happened followed her: and having seen her enter the
Jugi’s house hastened home and bolted his door from inside.
Presently his wife returned and found the door which she had left ajar,
fastened; then she knew that she was discovered. She was however full
of resource; she began to beg to be let her in, but her husband only
showered abuse upon her and bade her go back to the friend she had
left. Then she took a large stone and heaved it into a pool of water
near the house. Her husband heard the splash and concluded that she was
drowning herself. He did not want to get into trouble with the police,
as would surely be the case if his wife were found drowned, so he ran
out of the house to the pool of water to try and save her. Seizing this
opportunity his wife slipped into the house and in her turn locked the
door from inside; so that her husband had to spend the rest of the
night out-of-doors.

He could not be kept out of the house permanently and the next day
he gave his wife a thrashing and turned her out. At evening however she
came back and sat outside in the courtyard, weeping and wailing. The
noise made her husband more angry than ever, and he shouted out to her
that if she did not keep quiet he would come and cut off her nose. She
kept on crying, and the Jugi heard her and sent an old woman to call
her to him. She declared that if she went her husband would know and be
the more angry with her, but she might go if the old woman would sit in
her place and keep on crying, so that her husband might believe her to
be still in the courtyard. The old woman agreed and began to weep and
wail, while the other went off to the Jugi. She wept to such purpose
that the husband at last could not restrain his anger, and rushing out
into the darkness with a knife, cut off the nose, as he supposed, of
his wife. [305]

Presently the wife came back and found the old woman weeping in real
earnest over the loss of her nose. “Never mind, I’ll find
it and fix it on for you,” so saying she felt about for the nose
till she found it, clapped it on to the old woman’s face and told
her to hold it tight and it would soon grow again. Then she sat down
where she had sat before and began to lament the cruelty of her husband
in bringing a false charge against her and challenged him to come out
and see the miracle which had occurred to indicate her innocence. She
repeated this so often that at last her husband began to wonder what
she meant, and took a lamp and went out to see. When he found her
sitting on the ground without a blemish on her face, although he had
seen her with his own eyes go to the Jugi’s house, he could not
doubt her virtue and had to receive her back into the house.

Thus by her cunning the faithless wife escaped the punishment which
she deserved.

[Contents]

CIII. The Industrious Bride.

Once upon a time a party of three or four men went to a village to
see if a certain girl would make a suitable bride for the son of one of
their friends; and while they were talking to her, another young woman
came up. The visitors asked the first girl where her father was and she
told them that he had gone to “meet water.”

Then they asked where her mother was, and she said that she had gone
“to make two men out of one.” These answers puzzled the
questioners, and they did not know what more to say; as they stood
silent the other girl got up and went away remarking, “While I
have been waiting here, I might have carded a seer of cotton.”
The men who were looking for a girl who would make [306]a
good wife, at once concluded that they had found what they wanted:
“How industrious she must be to talk like that” thought
they—“much better than this other girl who can only give us
incomprehensible answers.” And before they left the village they
set everything in train for a match between their friend’s son
and the girl who seemed so industrious.

When they got home and told their wives what they had done they got
well laughed at: their wives declared that it was quite easy to
understand what the first girl had meant: of course she meant that her
father had gone to reap thatching grass and her mother had gone to
thresh dal. The poor men only gaped with astonishment at this
explanation.

However the marriage they had arranged duly took place, but the fact
was that the bride was entirely ignorant of how to clean and spin
cotton. It was not long before this was found out, for, in the spring,
when there was no work in the fields, her father-in-law set all the
women of the household to spinning cotton; and told them that they and
their husbands should have no new clothes until they had finished their
task. The bride, who had been so carefully chosen, tried to learn how
to spin by watching the others, but all in vain. The other women
laughed at her efforts and she protested that it was the fault of the
spinning wheel: it did not know her; her mother’s spinning wheel
knew her well and she could spin capitally with that. They jeered at
the idea of a spinning wheel having eyes and being able to recognise
its owner; however one day the young woman went and fetched her
mother’s spinning wheel and tried to spin with that. She got on
no better than before, and could only explain it by saying that the
spinning wheel had forgotten her.

Whatever the reason was, the other women all finished their spinning
and received their new clothes, while she [307]had nothing to show.
Then her father-in-law scolded her and told her that it was too late to
make other arrangements and as she could not get any new clothes the
best thing for her to do would be to smear her body with Gur and
stick raw cotton all over it. A parrab soon came round and all
the other women got out their new clothes and went to see the fun. The
clumsy bride had no new clothes and she took her father-in-law’s
advice and smeared her body with gur and covered herself with
raw cotton and so went to the parrab.

Her husband was very angry that she should have taken her
father-in-law’s jest in earnest, and when she came home he gave
her a good beating and turned her out of the house. And that was the
end of the “industrious” bride.

[Contents]

CIV. The Boy and His Fate.

There was once a Raja and Rani who had had three sons, but they had
all died when only three or four months old. Then a fourth son was
born, a fine handsome child; and he did not die in infancy but grew up
to boyhood. It was however fated that he should die when he was sixteen
years old and his parents knew this and when they saw him coming
happily home from his games of play, their eyes filled with tears at
the thought of the fate that hung over him.

One day the boy asked his father and mother why it was that they
were so sorrowful: and they told him how his three little brothers had
died and how they feared that he had but little longer to live. On
hearing this the boy proposed that he should be allowed to go away into
a far country, as perhaps by this means he might avoid his fate. His
father was glad to catch at the faintest hope and readily gave his
consent: so they supplied [308]him with money and mounted him on
a horse, and off he set.

He travelled far and settled down in a place that pleased him. But
in a short time the messengers of death came to the Raja’s palace
to take him away. When they did not find him, they followed in pursuit
along the road which he had taken; they wore the likeness of men and
soon traced out the Raja’s son. They presented themselves to him
and said that they had come to take him home again. The prince said
that he was ready to go, but asked them to allow him to cook and eat
his rice before starting. They told him that he might do this if he
were quick about it: he promised to hurry, and set to his cooking: he
put sufficient rice into the pot to feed them all and when it was ready
he offered some to each of the messengers. They consulted together as
to whether they should eat it, but their appetites got the better of
their caution and they agreed to do so, and made a good meal. But
directly they had finished they began to debate what they should do;
they had eaten his rice and could no longer compass his death.

So they told him frankly that Chando had sent them to call him; he
was to die that night and they were to take away his spirit; but they
had made the mistake of eating at his hands and although they must take
him away, they would give him advice as to how he might save his life:
he was to take a thin piece of lamp-wick and when Chando questioned
him, he was to put it up his nose and make himself sneeze. The prince
promised to remember this, and that night they took his spirit away to
Chando, but when Chando began to question him he made himself sneeze
with the lamp-wick; thereupon Chando at once wrote that he should live
for sixty years more and ordered the messengers to immediately restore
his spirit to its body. Then the prince hastened [309]back
to his father and mother, and told them that he had broken through his
fate and had a long life before him; and they had better make
arrangements for his marriage at once. This they did and he lived to a
ripe old age, as he had been promised.

[Contents]

CV. The Messengers of Death.

There was once a Brahman who had four sons born to him, but they all
died young; a fifth son however was born to him, who grew up to
boyhood. But it was fated that he too should die before reaching
manhood. One day while his father was away from home, the messengers of
death came to take him away. The Brahman’s wife thought that they
were three friends or relations of her husband, who had come to pay a
visit, and gave them a hearty welcome. And when she asked who they
were, they also told her that they were connections of her husband.
Then she asked them to have some dinner and they said that they would
eat, provided that she used no salt in the cooking. She promised not to
do, but what she did was to scatter some salt over the bottom of the
dish. Then she cooked the rice and turned it into the dish and gave it
to them to eat. They ate but when they came to the bottom of the dish
they tasted the salt which had been underneath. Then the three
messengers said “She has got the better of us; we have eaten her
salt and can no longer deceive her; we must tell her why we have
come.”

So they told her that her son was to die that night and that Chando
had sent them to take away his spirit: all they could do was to let her
come too, and see the place to which her son’s spirit was going.
The mother thought that this would be a consolation to her, so she went
with them. When they arrived in the spirit world they told the
Brahman’s wife to wait for them by a certain house in which dwelt
her son’s wife; [310]and they took the boy to Chando.
Presently they brought him back to the house in which his wife dwelt
and near which his mother was waiting and she overheard the following
conversation between the boy and his wife. The wife said “Have
you come for good this time, or must you again go back to the
world?”

“I have to go back once more.”

“And how will you manage to return again here?”

“I shall ask for the dust of April and May and if it is not
given to me I shall cry myself to death; and if that fails, I shall cry
for a toy winnowing fan; and if they give me that, then I will cry for
an elephant and if that fails then on my wedding day there will be two
thorns in the rice they give me to eat and they will stick in my throat
and kill me. And if that does not come to pass, then, when I return
home after the wedding, a leopard will kill a cow and I shall run out
to chase the leopard and I shall run after it, till I run hither to
you.”

“When you come back,” said his wife, “bring me
some of the vermilion they use in the world” and the boy
promised.

The messengers then took the Brahman’s wife home, and shortly
afterwards the boy was born again. His mother had carefully guarded the
memory of all that she had heard in the other world; and when the child
asked for the dust and the winnowing fan and the elephant, she at once
gratified his desires. So the boy grew up, and his wedding day arrived.
His mother insisted on accompanying him to the bride’s house, and
when the rice was brought for the bride and bridegroom to eat together,
she asked to be allowed to look at it first, and on examining it pulled
out the the two thorns; and then her son ate it unharmed. But when the
wedding party returned home and the ceremony of introducing the bride
to the house was being performed, word was brought that a leopard had
killed one of the [311]cows; at once the bridegroom ran out in
pursuit; but his mother followed him and called out, “My son,
your wife told you to take her some of the vermilion of this world;
here is some that I have brought, take it with you.” At this her
son stopped and asked her to explain what she meant; then she told him
all and he went no more in pursuit of the leopard: so he stayed and
grew up and lived to a good old age.

[Contents]

CVI. The Speaking Crab.

There was once a farmer who kept a labourer and a field woman to do
the work of the farm; and they were both very industrious and worked as
if they were working on their own account and not for a master.

Once at the time of transplanting rice, they were so busy that they
stayed in the fields all day and had their meals there and did not go
home till the evening. During this time it happened that the man had
unyoked his plough bullocks and taking his hoe began to dress the
embankment of the field, and as he dug, he dug out a very large crab;
so he plucked some leaves from the bushes and wrapped the crab in them
and fetching the yoke rope from the plough, he tied the bundle up
tightly with it and put it on the stump of a tree, intending to take it
home in the evening; but when he went home he forgot about it.

Now the crab was alive and in the middle of the night it began to
struggle to get out, but could not free itself. It happened that just
then the farmer was walking in the field to see that no one came to
steal his rice seedlings, and the crab began to sing:—

“This servant, this servant, father,

And this maidservant, this maidservant, father,

Caught me while digging the bank:

And in leaves, leaves, father,

With the yoke rope, yoke rope, father

Tied me and left me on the stump.”

[312]

At this sound the farmer was very frightened, and puzzled also; for
he thought, “If this were a human being crying, every one in the
neighbourhood would have heard and woke up, but it seems that I alone
am able to hear the sound; who can it be who is talking about my
servants?” So he went back to bed and told no one. The next
morning when the labourer looked for his yoke ropes, he missed one; and
then he remembered that he had used it to tie up the crab; so he went
to the place and found his rope. When his master brought them their
breakfast that day and they had finished eating, the labourer began to
tell how he had lost one of the yoke ropes and had found it again: and
how he had used it for tying up the crab which he had found. The master
asked whether the crab was alive or dead; and the labourer said that it
was dead.

Then the master said “My man you have done a very foolish
thing; why did you tie it up alive? Last night I could not sleep for
its crying. Why did you imprison the innocent creature until it
died?” And he told them the song it had sung, and forbade them
ever to cause such pain to living creatures. He said “Kill them
outright or you will bring disgrace on me; when I heard the lament I
thought it was a man, but now I learn from you that it was a crab. I
forbid you ever to do the like again.” And at the time of the
Sohrai festival the farmer called together all his household and sang
them the song and explained its meaning to them, and the men who heard
it remember it to this day.

[Contents]

CVII. The Leopard Outwitted.

There was once a man-eating leopard, whose depredations became so
serious, that the whole neighbouring population decided to have a great
hunt and kill it. On the day fixed a great crowd of beaters collected,
and [313]their drums made a noise as if the world were
being turned upside down.

When the leopard heard the shouting and the drumming, it started to
escape to another jungle, and as it was crossing a road it came on a
merchant driving a packbullock. The merchant tried to run away, but the
leopard stopped him and said “You must hide me or I will eat
you.” The merchant continued to run, thinking that if he helped
the leopard it would surely eat him afterwards, but the leopard swore
an oath not to eat him if he would only hide it. So the merchant
stopped and took one of his sacks off the bullock and emptied it out
and tied up the leopard in it, and put it on the bullock and then drove
on.

When they got out of hearing of the hunters the leopard asked to be
let out; but directly the sack was untied it said that it would devour
the merchant. The merchant said “You can of course eat me, but
let us consult an arbitrator as to whether it is fair.” The
leopard agreed and as they were near a stream, the man asked the water
whether it was fair that he should be killed, after he had saved the
leopard’s life; the water answered “Yes; you men wash all
manner of filthy things in me; let it eat you!” Then the leopard
wanted to eat him, but the merchant asked leave to take two more
opinions; so he asked a tree; but the tree said “Men cut me down;
let the leopard eat you.”

The merchant was very downcast to find everyone against him and the
leopard said, “Well, whom will you consult next? You have so many
friends;” so they went on and presently met a jackal and the
merchant said that he would appeal to him. The jackal considered for
some time and then said “I don’t understand how you hid the
leopard; let me see how it was done; and then I shall be able to
decide,” The merchant said “I hid him in this sack.”
“Really,” said the jackal, [314]“show me
exactly how you did it” So the leopard got into the sack to show
how he was hidden; then the jackal asked to be shown how the leopard
was carried out of danger; so the merchant tied up the sack and put it
on the bullock. “Now,” said the jackal, “drive on,
and when we come to yonder ravine and I tell you to put the sack down,
do you knock in the head of the leopard with a stone.” And the
merchant did so and when he had killed the leopard, he took it out of
the sack and the jackal ate its body.

[Contents]

CVIII. The Wind and the Sun.

Once the Wind and the Sun disputed as to which was the more
powerful. And while they were quarrelling a man came by wrapped in a
shawl and wearing a big pagri. And they said “It is no
good quarrelling; let us put our power to the test and see who can
deprive this man of the shawl he has wrapped round him.” Then the
Wind asked to be allowed to try first and said “You will see that
I will blow away the blanket in no time,” and the Sun said,
“All right, you go first.” So the Wind began to blow hard;
but the man only wrapped his shawl more tightly round him to prevent
its being blown away and fastened it round himself with his
pagri; and though the Wind blew fit to blow the man away, it
could not snatch the shawl from him; so it gave up and the Sun had a
try; he rose in the sky and blazed with full force and soon the man
began to drip with sweat; and he took off his shawl and hung it on the
stick he carried over his shoulder and the Wind had to admit
defeat.

[Contents]

CIX. The Coldest Season.

One winter day a bear and a tiger began to dispute as to which is
the coldest season of the year; the bear [315]said July and August,
which is the rainy season, and the tiger said December and January,
which is the winter season. They argued and argued but could not
convince each other; for the bear with his long coat did not feel the
cold of winter but when he got soaked through in the rain he felt
chilly.

At last they saw a man coming that way and called on him to
decide—“but have a care”—said the
tiger—“if you give an opinion favourable to the bear, I
will eat you;” and the bear said “If you side with the
tiger, I will eat you.” At this the man was terror
stricken but an idea struck him and he made the tiger and the bear
promise not to eat him if he gave a fair decision and then he said
“It is not the winter which is the coldest, nor the rainy season
which is the coldest, but windy weather; if there is no wind no one
feels the cold much either in the winter or in the rainy season.”
And the tiger and the bear said “You are right, we never thought
of that” and they let him go. [317]


1 This is
why Santals when going to eat, move the stool that is offered to them
before they sit down on it.

[Contents]

Part II.

To a people living in the jungles the wild animals are much more
than animals are to us. To the man who makes a clearing in the forest,
life is largely a struggle against the beasts of prey and the animals
who graze down the crops. It is but natural that he should credit them
with feelings and intelligence similar to those of human beings, and
that they should seem to him suitable characters around which to weave
stories.

These stories are likely to be particularly current among a people
occupying a forest country, and for this reason are less likely to
appear in collections made among the inhabitants of towns. It is a
strange coincidence and presumably only a coincidence that Story 118,
‘The Hyena outwitted’ is known in a
precisely similar form among the Kaffirs of South Africa. [319]

[Contents]

CX. The Jackal and the Crow.

Once upon a time a crow and a jackal became bosom friends and they
agreed that the crow should support the jackal in the hot weather and
the jackal support the crow in the rainy season. By-and-bye the jackal
got discontented with the arrangement, and vowed that it would not go
on supporting an animal of another species, but would take some
opportunity of eating it up. But he did not let this appear, and one
day he invited the crow to a feast and gave him as many frogs and
grasshoppers as he could eat and treated him well and they parted very
affectionately.

Then a few days later the crow invited the jackal to dinner in
return; and when the jackal arrived the crow led him to an ant-hill and
showed him a hollow gourd which he had filled with live mice and said
“Here is your dinner.” The jackal could not get his nose
into the hole of the gourd so, to get at the mice, he had to break it.
And the mice ran all over the place and the jackal jumped about here
and there trying to catch them. At this sight the crow stood and
laughed; and the jackal said to himself “Very well, my friend,
you invited me here to have a laugh at me; wait till I have finished
with the mice; then it will be your turn.”

So when he had caught all the mice he could, he declared that he had
had as much as he could eat and would like to go and sleep off his
meal. As they said farewell and were salaaming to each other, the
jackal pounced on the crow and ate him up; not a bone or [320]a
claw was left. Then the jackal began to skip with joy and
sang:—

“I ate a gourdful of mice

And by the side of the ant-hill

I ate the crow: Hurrah!”

And singing thus he went skipping homewards; and on the way he met a
fowl and called to it to get out of the way or he would eat
it,—singing:—

“I ate a gourdful of mice

And by the side of the ant-hill

I ate the crow:—Hurrah!”

And as the fowl did not move he ate it up; then he skipped on and
came to a goat and he sang his verse and told it to get out of the way
and as it did not, he ate it; and in the same way he met and killed a
sheep and a cow and he ate the liver and lungs of the cow; and then he
killed a buffalo and ate its liver and lungs; and by this time he was
as full as he could hold. Then he came to a pool of water and he called
to it to get out of the way or he would drink it up and as it did not
move, he drank it dry. Then he came to a post and said “Get out
of my way or I will jump over you”—

“I ate a gourdful of mice

And by the side of the ant-hill

I ate the crow—Hurrah!”

And so saying he tried to jump over it; but he was so full of what
he had eaten and drunk that he leaped short and fell on the point of
the stake and was transfixed, so that he died.

[Contents]

CXI. The Tiger Cub and the Calf.

A Tigress and a Cow used to graze in a dense jungle, and they were
both with young. They became great friends and agreed that they would
marry their [321]children to each other. In the course of time
the tigress gave birth to a she-cub and the cow to a bull-calf. They
kept the young ones in the same place and used to go and graze
together, and then return at the same time to suckle their young. On
their way back they used to drink at a certain river, the tigress up
the stream and the cow lower down. One day it happened that the cow got
first to the river and drank at the upper drinking place, and the
tigress drank lower down. And the froth from the cow’s mouth
floated down the stream and the tigress tasted it and found it nice,
and this made her think that the flesh of the cow must also be good; so
she resolved to eat the cow one day. The cow saw what was in the mind
of the tigress and she left some of her milk in a bowl, and said to her
calf: “The tigress has resolved to eat me; watch this milk and
when you see it turn red like blood, you will know that I have been
killed;” then she went off to graze with the tigress.

The two youngsters always used to play together very happily but
that day the calf would not play but kept going to look at the bowl of
milk; and the tigress cub asked the reason. The calf told her what his
mother had said; then the tigress cub said that if this happened she
would never suck from her mother again and it would be better for them
both to run away. So the two kept going to look at the bowl of milk,
and about midday they saw that it had changed to blood and they both
began to weep. Shortly after, the tigress came back, and flies were
clustered round her mouth because of the blood on it. The tigress told
her daughter to come and suck, but she said that she would wait till
the cow came and then she and the calf could have their meal together
as usual; at this the tigress frowned terribly and the cub was
frightened, so she said, “Very well, mother, I will suck, but
first go and wash your mouth; why are [322]the flies clustered
round it?” So the tigress went off but she did not wash, she only
ate some more of the cow. While she was away, the calf and the cub ran
off to another jungle, and when the tigress came back, she searched for
them with horrid roarings and could not find them, and if she had found
them she would have killed them.

[Contents]

CXII. The Jackal and the Chickens.

Once upon a time a jackal and a hen were great friends and regarded
each other as brother and sister; and they agreed to have a feast to
celebrate their friendship; so they both brewed rice beer and they
first drank at the jackal’s house and then went to the
hen’s house; and there they drank so much that the hen got blind
drunk, and while she lay intoxicated the jackal ate her up. The jackal
found the flesh so nice that he made up his mind to eat the hen’s
chickens too; so the next day he went to their house and found them all
crying “Cheep, cheep,” and he asked what was the matter;
they said that they had lost their mother; he told them to cheer up and
asked where they slept; they told him on the shelf in the
wall.”

Then he went away; but the chickens saw that he meant to come and
eat them at night, so they did not go to sleep on the shelf but filled
it with razors and knives and when the jackal came at night and felt
about the shelf he got badly cut and ran away screaming.

But a few day later he paid another visit to the chickens, and
condoled with them on the loss of their mother and again asked where
they slept, and they told him, in the fireplace. Directly the jackal
was gone, they filled the stove with live embers and covered them up
with ashes; and went to sleep themselves inside a drum. At night the
jackal came and put his [323]paws into the fireplace; but he
only scraped the hot embers up against his belly and got burnt; this
made him scream and the chickens burst out laughing. The jackal heard
them and said “You have got me burnt; now I am going to eat
you.” They said, “Yes, uncle, but please eat us outside the
house; you did not eat our mother in her own house; take us to yonder
flat rock.”

So the jackal took up the drum but when he got to the rock he
accidentally let it fall and it broke and the chickens ran away in all
directions; but the chicken that had been at the bottom of the drum had
got covered with the droppings of the others and could not fly away; so
the jackal thought “Well it is the will of heaven that I should
have only one chicken; it is doubtless for the best!” The chicken
said to the jackal, “I see that you will eat me, but you cannot
eat me in this state; wash me clean first.”

So the jackal took the chicken to a pool and washed it; then the
chicken asked to be allowed to get a little dry; but the jackal said
that if it got dry it would fly away. “Then,” said the
chicken, “rub me dry with your snout and I will myself tell you
when I am ready to be eaten;” so the jackal rubbed it dry and
then proceeded to eat it; but directly the jackal got it in his mouth
it voided there, so the jackal spat it out and it flew away.

The jackal thought that it had gone into a hole in a white ant-hill,
but really it had hidden elsewhere; however the jackal felt for it in
the hole and then tried in vain to scrape the hole larger; as he could
not get into the hole he determined to sit and wait till hunger or
suffocation forced the chicken to come out. So he sat and watched, and
he sat so long that the white ants ate off his hind quarters; at last
he gave up and went off to the rice fields to look for fish and crabs.
There he saw an old woman catching fish, and he asked to be
[324]allowed to help her. So the old woman sat on the
bank and the jackal jumped and twisted about in the water and presently
he caught a potha fish which he ate; but as the jackal had no
hind quarters the fish passed through him none the worse. Soon the
jackal caught the same fish over again, and he laughed at the old woman
because she had caught none. She told him that he was catching the same
fish over and over again, and when he would not believe her she told
him to mark with a thorn the next one which he caught; he did so and
then found that he really was catching and eating the same fish over
and over again.

At this he was much upset and asked what he should do. The old woman
advised him to go to a cobbler and get patched up; so he went and
killed a fowl and took it to a cobbler and offered it to him if he
would put him to rights; so the cobbler sewed on a leather patch with a
long leather tail which rapped on the ground as the jackal went along.
Then the jackal went to a village to steal fowls and he danced along
with his tail tapping, and sang:

“Now the Moghul cavalry are coming

And the Koenda Rajas.

Run away or they will utterly destroy you.”

And when the villagers heard this they all ran away and the jackal
entered the village and killed as many fowls as he wanted.

A few days later he went again to the village and frightened away
the villagers as before; but one old woman was too feeble to run away
and she hid in a pig sty, and one fowl that the jackal chased, ran into
this sty and the jackal followed it, and when he saw the old woman, he
told her to catch the fowl for him or he would knock her teeth out; but
she told him to catch it himself; so he caught and ate it. Then he
[325]said to the old woman. Say “Toyo”
(jackal) and she said “Toyo;” then he took a currypounder
and knocked all her teeth out and told her again to say
“Toyo;” but as she had no teeth she said
“Hoyo;” this amused the jackal immensely and he went away
laughing.

When the villagers returned, the old woman told them that it was
only a jackal who had attacked the village, so they decided to kill
him; but one man said “You won’t be able to catch him; let
us make an image of this old woman and cover it with birdlime and set
it up at the end of the village street; he will stop and abuse her, and
we shall know where he is.” So they did this, and the next
morning, when the jackal came singing along the road, they hid inside
their houses. When the jackal reached the village, he saw the figure of
the old woman with its arms stretched out, and he said to it,
“What are you blocking my road for? get out of the way; I knocked
your teeth out yesterday: arn’t you afraid? Get out of the way or
I will kick you out.”

As the figure did not move he gave it a kick and his leg was caught
in the birdlime; then he said, “Let me go, you old hag, or I will
give you a slap.” Then he gave it a slap and his front paw was
stuck fast; then he slapped at it with his other paw and that stuck;
then he tried to bite the figure and his jaws got caught also; and when
he was thus helpless the villagers came out and beat him to death and
that was the end of the jackal.

[Contents]

CXIII. The Jackal Punished.

Once a hen and a jackal were great friends, and they decided to have
a feast and each brewed beer for the occasion; the hen brewed with
rice, and maize and millet and the jackal brewed with lizards, locusts,
frogs [326]and fish. And when the brew was ready, they
first went to the jackal’s house, but the hen could not touch his
beer, it smelt so bad and the jackal drank it all; then they went to
the hen’s house and her beer was very nice and they both drank
till the hen got very drunk and began to stagger about; and the jackal
made up his mind that the hen must be very nice to eat, as her beer was
so good to drink and when he saw her drunk he was delighted and
sang:

“Fowl, do not graze in the field!

The jackal laughs to see you.

Paddy bird, do not fish in the pond!

You pecked a piece of sedge thinking it was a
frog’s leg!

Do not drink rice beer, O fowl!

The jackal laughs to see you.

And so saying he gobbled her up; and her chickens cried at the
sight. Then the jackal resolved to eat the chickens also, so he came
back the next day, and asked them where they slept and they said
“In the hearth.” But when the jackal had gone, the chickens
planned how they should save their lives.

Their mother had laid an egg and as there was no one to hatch it
now, they said, “Egg, you must lie in the fireplace and blind the
jackal;” and they said to the paddy husker, “You must stand
by the door and when the jackal runs out you must knock him
down; and they told the paddy mortar to wait
on the roof over the door and fall and crush the jackal. So they put
the egg among the hot ashes in the fireplace and they themselves sat in
a cupboard with axes ready; and when the jackal came he went to the
fireplace and scratched out the ashes; and the egg burst and spirted
into his eyes and blinded him and as he ran out of the door the paddy
husker knocked him over; and as he crawled away the paddy mortar fell
on him from the [327]roof and crushed him; then the chickens ran
out and chopped him to pieces with their axes and revenged the death of
their mother.

[Contents]

CXIV. The Tigers and the Cat.

In former days tigers and cats were friends and used to hunt
together and share the game they caught; and they did not eat the game
raw but used to cook it as men do.

One day some tigers and a cat had killed a deer and they had no fire
with which to cook it; then the tigers said to the cat “You are
small, go and beg a light from yonder village.” But the cat said
that he was afraid to go; however they urged him saying “You have
a thin tail and plump feet; you can bring it in a trice.” So, as
they all insisted on his going, he at last consented; and said
“Well, I will go; but don’t expect me to be very quick; if
I get a good opportunity for fetching the fire, I will come back
soon.” They said “All right, go and run off with a small
fire-brand and we will meet you outside the village.”

So the cat went off and coming to a house, went inside to pull a
firebrand from the hearth. On the fire some milk was boiling; and the
cat thought “This smells very nice, I will have a taste of
it” and he found it so nice that he made up his mind to drink it
all, before he took away the fire-brand. But in order to lap the milk
he had to put his feet on the fireplace, and it was so hot that he
burnt his feet and had to get down; so then he sat down and waited till
the fire went out and the hearth grew cool, and then he lapped up the
milk and ran off with a piece of smouldering wood.

Meanwhile the tigers had got tired of waiting and had eaten the deer
raw; and they were very angry at being made to eat raw flesh and swore
that they would [328]eat the cat too. When they saw the cat
bringing the fire they ran to meet him and abused him and cried out
“You have made us eat raw flesh; we will eat you too, dung and
all” On hearing this threat the cat ran back to the village in
fear of his life; and the tigers followed in pursuit; but when they got
near the village, the village dogs all ran out barking and the tigers
were frightened and turned back and the cat was saved. From that day
tigers and leopards have eaten raw flesh; and cats bury their
excrement, because of what the tigers had said.

Every day the tigers went to the village in search of the cat; but
when the dogs barked they slunk away; for the tigers were very
frightened at the sight of the dogs’ curly tails; they thought
that the tails were nooses and that they would be strangled by them.
One day one of the tigers met a jackal and called to him “Nephew,
listen to me; a cat made us eat raw flesh and has escaped into this
village and I want to catch it, but the dogs come barking at me. I
don’t mind that, but I am very frightened of their nooses. Now,
you are very like a dog, cannot you go and tell them not to use their
nooses.” The jackal answered, “Uncle, you are quite
mistaken; what you see are their tails, not nooses; they will not
strangle you with them.” So the tiger took courage and the next
day went to the village to hunt for the cat, but he could not find it.
And when the dogs barked he got angry and caught and killed one of
them; and from that time tigers and leopards eat dogs.

[Contents]

CXV. The Elephant and the Ants.

In the days of old there was a great deal more jungle than there is
now, and wild elephants were very numerous; once upon a time a red ant
and a black ant were burrowing in the ground, when a wild elephant
appeared and said “Why are you burrowing here; I will trample
[329]all your work to pieces;” the ants
answered “Why do you talk like this; do not despise us because we
are small; perhaps we are better than you in some ways;” The
elephant said “Do not talk nonsense: there is nothing at which
you could beat me; I am in all ways the largest and most powerful
animal on the face of the earth.” Then the ants said “Well,
let us run a race and see who will win, unless you win we will not
admit that you are supreme.” At this the elephant got into a rage
and shouted; “Well, come we will start at once,” and it set
off to run with all its might and when it got tired it looked down at
the ground and there were two ants. So it started off again and when it
stopped and looked down, there on the ground were two ants; so it ran
on again, but wherever it stopped it saw the ants, and at last it ran
so far that it dropped down dead from exhaustion.

Now it is a saying that ants are more numerous in this world than
any other kind of living creature; and what happened was that the two
ants never ran at all, but stayed where they were; but whenever the
elephant looked at the ground, it saw some ants running about and
thought that they were the first two, and so ran itself to death.

This story teaches us not to despise the poor man, because one day
he may have an opportunity to put us to shame.

From this story of the elephant we should learn this lesson; the
Creator knows why He made some animals big and some small and why He
made some men fools; so we should neither bully nor cheat men who
happen to be born stupid.

[Contents]

CXVI. A Fox and His Wife.

Once upon a time there were a fox and his wife who lived in a hole
with their five little ones. Every evening [330]the
two foxes used to make their way to a bazar to feed on the scraps
thrown away by the bazar people; and every night on their way home the
following conversation passed between them. The fox would say to his
wife, “Come tell me how much wit you have,” and she would
answer him by, “Only so much as would fill a small vegetable
basket.” Then she in her turn would ask “And how much wit
have you?” “As much as would load twelve
buffaloes.”

One night as they were on their way home as usual, the two suddenly
found themselves face to face with a tiger, who greeted them by saying
“At last my friends, I have got you.”

At this the fox for all his wit, could not utter a word but crouched
down and shook with fright. Mrs Fox however was not at all inclined to
give way to despair. She saluted the tiger and said “Ah, uncle,
do not eat us up just now; I and my husband have a dispute and we want
you to settle it for us.” The tiger was mollified by being
addressed by so respectful a name as uncle, and answered in a gentler
voice “Well, my niece, tell me what is the point and I will
decide it for you.”

“It is this,” went on Mrs. Fox, “we have five
children and we wish to divide them between us but we cannot decide how
to do so; I say that I will take three and leave him two; while he
wants to take three and leave me two. We came out to look for some man
to settle the dispute but have not met one: and now providentially you
have appeared before us like a god; no doubt you will be able to make
the division for us.” The tiger reflected that if he managed
things well, he would be able to eat not only the two foxes but their
young ones as well, so he graciously agreed to make the division.

The foxes then invited him to come back with them to the hole in
which they lived, and when they reached it, Mr. Fox bolted into it
saying that he was going to [331]bring out the children. As however
he did not come out again, Mrs. Fox said that it was clear that he
could not manage the children by himself, and she would go and help;
and thereupon proceeded to back into the hole, keeping her face turned
towards the tiger.

Seeing her disappearing the tiger thought to seize her, but as she
kept her eyes on him he could only say “Hullo, what is the
matter? Why are you going in backwards?” “Oh, uncle,”
replied Mrs. Fox, “how could I turn my back on so great a
personage as you?” and with that she disappeared. Presently the
tiger heard the two foxes calling out from inside “Goodbye,
uncle, you can go away now; we have arranged how to divide the children
ourselves.” Then he saw how he had been fooled and flew into a
terrible rage and tried to squeeze his way into the hole; but it was
much too small and at last he had to go away baffled: and so the foxes
were saved by Mrs. Fox’s wit.

[Contents]

CXVII. The Jackal and the Crocodiles.

Once upon a time there was a Raja who had an only son. As the boy
grew up his father sent him to a school to learn to read and write. One
day on his way back from school, the boy sat down by the road side to
rest, and placed his school books on the ground by his side. Suddenly a
jackal came along and snatched up the bundle of books and ran away with
it; and though the boy ran after it, he failed to catch the jackal and
had to go and tell his father how he had lost his school books. The
Raja told him not to mind, as it was a very good omen and meant that he
would grow up as clever as a jackal; and so the matter ended as far as
the boy was concerned; and his father bought him a new set of
books.

But the jackal ran off to the side of a tank and [332]taking a book from the bundle sat down and began
to read it aloud. He kept on saying over and over again “Ibor,
obor, iakoro sotro” “Ibor obor iakoro sotro.”

Hearing the noise a crocodile who lived in the tank poked his head
out of the water and began “Well, nephew, what is that you are
repeating?” “I am only reading a book, uncle.”

“What, nephew, do you know how to read and write?”

“Yes, certainly I do,” answered the jackal.

“In that case,” returned the crocodile “would you
mind teaching my five children?” The jackal was quite willing to
be their master, but a difficulty struck the crocodile; the jackal
lived on high land, and the little crocodiles could not go so far from
the water. The jackal at once suggested a way out of the difficulty:
“Let the crocodile dig a little pool near where the jackal lived
and put the children into it. Then the jackal could take the little
crocodiles out of it when he was giving them their lessons and put them
back again when they had finished. So it was arranged, and in two or
three days the crocodile dug the pool and the jackal began the
lessons.

Each morning the jackal took the five little crocodiles out of the
water and told them to repeat after him what he said, and then he began
“Ibor obor iakoro sotro” “Ibor obor iakoro
sotro.” But try as they might the little crocodiles could not
pronounce the words properly; then the jackal lost his temper and
cuffed them soundly. In spite of this they still showed no signs of
improvement, till at last the jackal made up his mind that he could not
go on with such unsatisfactory pupils, and that the best thing he could
do would be to eat them up one at a time. So the next morning he
addressed the little crocodiles, “I see that you can’t
learn, when I take you in class all together: in future I will have you
up one at a time and teach you like [333]that.” So he
took one out of the water and began to teach it; but the little
crocodile could not pronounce its words properly, so in a very short
time the jackal got angry and gobbled it up. The next day he took out
another, which soon met the same fate as its brother; and so things
went on till the jackal had eaten four out of the five.

When there was only one left, the crocodile came to see how the
lessons were getting on. The sight of him put the jackal in a terrible
fright; but he answered the crocodile that the children were making
very fair progress. “Well, I want to see them. Come along and let
us have a look at them.”

This was awkward for the jackal, but his wits did not desert him; he
ran on ahead to the pool and going into the water, caught the one
little crocodile which remained, and held it up, saying “See here
is one.” Then he popped it under the water and brought it up
again and said “See, here’s another” and this he did
five times and persuaded the crocodile that he had seen his five
children.

The crocodile pretended to be satisfied but he was not quite easy in
his mind and would have preferred to see all the five little ones at
once. However, he said nothing, but made up his mind to watch the
jackal; so the next day he hid himself and waited to see what happened.
He saw the jackal take the little crocodile out of the water and begin
the lesson—“Ibor obor iakoro.” Then when the
unfortunate pupil still failed to pronounce the words, the jackal began
to give it cuffs and blows. At this sight the crocodile ran forward and
caught the jackal, crying out “Show me my other four little ones;
is this the way you treat my children?” The jackal had no answer
to give and the crocodile soon put an end to his life and took back his
one remaining child to the tank where he lived. [334]

[Contents]

CXVIII. The Bullfrog and the Crab.

There was a Raja who had no head and there was a Tiger who had no
tail. One day they met in a nullah. “Here’s a fine dinner
for me” said the Tiger. “Here’s a fine dinner for
me!” said the Raja. At this retort the Tiger’s courage
oozed away; and he did not dare to go any nearer; but he called out
“Well, if I am to be your dinner, come and catch me:” and
the Raja called out “If I am to be your dinner, come and catch
me.” So they stood challenging each other, but neither took a
step forward. Then the Tiger became abusive and called out, “What
have you done with your head? The Raja retorted “What is a tiger
without a tail? You also are short of a member. I may have no head but
I have more legs than you.” The Tiger could think of no retort to
make to this and so said “Come, don’t let us quarrel any
more; let us be friends; I live near here, where do you
live?

“My home is also near here.”

“Then we are neighbours: there is no reason why we should be
enemies.”

“Who knows what you are at?” answered the Raja:
“for you are pretending that you cannot see aright, but it is
quite true that we are neighbours.” “You are right,”
said the other, “I admit that I did wrong, and I bow down before
you.” So they saluted each other and the Tiger said
“Let’s have a song to show what good friends we are: and he
sang (to the rice planting tune):

“The Frog King and the Frog Queen

Sat at their front door.

The Frog King’s marriage is going on:

Look, my master!

The Frog King and the Frog Queen!

The Frog King’s marriage is going on.”

[335]

[Contents]

CXIX. The Hyaena Outwitted.

Once upon a time there was a great tiger who lived in a forest; and
all the other animals that lived in the forest treated him as their
Raja, down to the very birds. They all felt safe under his protection,
because he was so much feared that no men dared hunt in that forest.
One day it happened that this Raja tiger killed a man and made such a
enormous meal on the flesh, that he got very bad indigestion. The pain
grew worse and worse, till he felt sure that his last hour was
come.

In his agony he sent for a hyaena and offered to make him his
dewan, if only he would call all the other animals of the forest
to come and pay a farewell visit to their lord. The hyaena readily
agreed but thought it would be better to send another messenger, while
he stayed by the tiger to see that all the animals duly presented
themselves. Just then a crow flew overhead; so they called him and
deputed him to summon all the animals.

The crow flew off and in a short time all the animals assembled
before the tiger and paid their respects to him and expressed wishes
for his speedy recovery;—all except the jackals. They had been
summoned along with the others; but somehow they paid no attention and
only remembered about it in the afternoon. Then they were very
frightened as to what would be the consequence of their remissness; but
one chief jackal stood up and told them not to fear, as he would
contrive a way of getting the better of the hyaena. There was nothing
else to be done, so they had to put what trust they could in their
chief and follow him to the Tiger.

On his way the chief jackal picked up a few roots, and took them
with him. When they reached the place where the suffering monarch lay,
the hyaena at once began to abuse them for being late, and the Tiger
[336]also angrily asked why they had not come before;
then the chief jackal began humbly “O Maharaja, we were duly
summoned; your messenger is not to blame; but we reflected that it was
useless merely to go and look at you when you were so ill: that could
do you no good; so we bestirred ourselves to try and find some medicine
that would cure you. We have searched the length and breadth of the
jungle and have found all that is necessary, except one thing and that
we have failed to find.” “Tell me what it is,” said
the hyaena, “and I will at once despatch all these animals to
look for it and it will surely be found.” “Yes,”
echoed the tiger, “what is it?” “Maharaja,”
said the jackal, “when you take these medicines, you must lie
down on the fresh skin of a hyaena, which has been flayed alive; but
the only hyaena we can find in the forest is your dewan
“The world can well bear the loss of one hyaena,” said the
Tiger: “take him and skin him.” At these words all the
animals set upon the hyaena and flayed him alive; and the tiger lay
down on the skin and took the medicines brought by the jackal; and as
he was not seriously ill, his pain soon began to pass away.

“That is a lesson to the hyaena not to scold us and get us
into trouble,” said the jackal, as he went home.

[Contents]

CXX. The Crow and the Egret.

A crow and a white egret once made their nests in the same tree, and
when the nestlings began to grow up the crow saw how pretty and white
the young egrets were, and thought them much nicer than her own black
young ones. So one day when the egret was away, the crow changed the
nestlings and brought the little white egrets, to her own nest. When
the mother egret returned and found the ugly little black crows in her
own nest, it [337]did not take her long to see what had happened
and she at once taxed the crow with the theft. The crow denied all
knowledge of the matter and a fine quarrel ensued.

Quarrelling led to nothing and they agreed to refer the dispute to
the decision of a money-lender, whose house stood by the tree in which
the two nests were. The crow, as the less shy of the two, flew down and
asked the money-lender to come out and settle their dispute. The first
question the money-lender asked was what they were going to give him.
The egret promised to catch him a fine rohu fish, which was what
she was accustomed to eat, but the crow said that she would give him a
golden necklace. The money-lender said that the fees must be brought
first before he heard the case, so the egret flew off and caught a big
fish, but the crow went to where a Raja was bathing and carried off the
gold chain which the Raja had left on the bank of the river. The
money-lender then gave his decision, which was in favour of the party
who had given him the most valuable present; he decided that the young
birds must stay where they were. “But,” protested the egret
“how have my white nestlings become black?” “That is
quite natural” answered the money-lender, “a white cow may
have a black or brown calf: why should not you have black young
ones?” And so saying he drove them away.

The poor egret was not at all content with this unjust decision, and
was about to renew the quarrel, when a jackal came racing by; it had
just made its escape from some hunters. “Where are you off to so
fast, uncle?” called out the egret. “I am in arrears with
my rent and am hurrying to pay it to the Raja,” answered the
jackal. “Stay and listen to my grievance,” begged the
egret, and she told the jackal all that had happened and how the
money-lender had let himself be bribed by the gold necklace. The jackal
was very indignant, “A man who could give a decision like that
[338]would call a buffalo, a bullock or a pig, a
sheep. It is no decision at all; I cannot stop now, but I will come
back to-morrow and decide the matter for you and before doing so, I
will stuff the mouth of that unjust judge with filth.” So saying
the jackal hurried off.

The money-lender heard all that passed and was filled with shame at
having earned the contempt of the jackal; he feared more disgrace on
the morrow, so he at once called the crow and made her return the
egret’s nestlings, and the next morning when the jackal came back
it found that everything had been settled to the satisfaction of the
egret.

[Contents]

CXXI. The Jackal and the Hare.

A jackal and a hare were sworn friends. One day they planned to have
a dinner of rice cooked with milk. So the hare crouched down under a
bush which grew by the side of a road leading to a busy market; and the
jackal stayed watching a little way off. Presently some men came along,
taking rice to sell at the market. When they saw the hare by the side
of the road, they put down their baskets of rice and ran to catch the
hare. He led them a long chase, and then escaped. Meanwhile the jackal
carried off as much of the unguarded rice as he wanted. By the same
trick they got hold of milk, and firewood, and a cooking pot, and some
leaf plates; Thus they had everything necessary for the meal except
fire.

So the jackal ran off to a village and went to the house of a poor
old woman who was pounding dried plum fruit into meal, and asked her
for a light “Go into the house and take a brand from the fire
yourself” said the old woman: “No” said the jackal
“you go and get it; and I will pound your meal for you, while you
are away.” So the old woman went into the house; and while she
was away the jackal put filth into the mortar [339]and
covered it up with meal. Then he took away the lighted brand, and after
he had gone the old woman found that all her meal was spoilt.

Then the jackal cooked their rice and milk and when it was ready,
they began to discuss which should first go and bathe, before they
began to eat. At last the jackal went off; he hurried over his bath and
came back as quickly as possible. Then the hare went, and he spent a
long time having a thorough bath. While the hare was away, the jackal
ate as much of the rice as he wanted and then filled the pot with filth
and covered it over with rice. When the hare came back, they debated
which should help the rice. At last they agreed that the hare should do
so; but when the hare had taken out a little rice he found the pot full
of filth. “So it is for this that I took all the trouble to get
the provisions for our meal” cried the hare; and threw the
contents of the pot over the jackal and drove him away.

The jackal went off and made a drum, and every day he sat in the sun
beneath a bank and played the drum. The hare heard the sound and one
day he went to the jackal and asked to be allowed to play the drum. The
jackal handed it over but the hare beat it and shook it so vigorously
that at last it was smashed to pieces. Then the hare ran away.

[Contents]

CXXII. The Brave Jackal.

Once upon a time a he-goat ran away for fear of being slaughtered
and took refuge in a leopard’s cave. When the leopard came back
to the cave the goat called out “Hum Pakpak,” and the
leopard ran away in a fright. Presently it met a jackal and called out
“Ah! my sister’s son, some fearful animal has occupied my
house!” “What is it like, uncle?” asked the jackal
“It has a wisp of hemp tied to its chin,” answered the
[340]leopard: “I am not afraid, uncle,”
boasted the jackal, “I have eaten many animals like that, bones
and all.” So they tied their tails together and went back to the
leopard’s cave. When the two drew near the goat stood up: and the
leopard said “This morning he called out something dreadful at
me.” At this they both fled, and in their struggles to separate
all the hair on the jackal’s tail was scraped off and the jackal
called out “Alas, alas! Uncle, you have scraped off all my
skin!”

[Contents]

CXXIII. The Jackal and the Leopards.

Once upon a time a leopard and a leopardess were living with their
cubs; and when the parents were away a jackal used to go to the cubs
and say “If you won’t pay up the paddy you owe, give me
something on account.” And the cubs gave him all the meat which
their parents had brought; and as this happened every day the cubs
began to starve. The leopard asked why they looked so thin although he
brought them lots of game and the cubs explained that they had to give
up all their food to the jackal from whom he had borrowed paddy. So the
leopard lay in wait and when the jackal came again to beg of the cubs
he chased him. The jackal ran away and hid in a crack in the ground;
the leopard tried to follow and got stuck in the crack and was squeezed
to death. The jackal came out and kicked the dead body, crying “I
see you lying in wait for me.”

Now the jackal wore silk shoes and a silk dhoti and he went back to
the leopard’s family and asked who would look after them now the
leopard was dead. They said that they would live with him; so the
jackal stayed there and they all went hunting deer. The jackal lay in
wait and the leopards drove the game to him. But when the deer came
out, the jackal was too frightened to attack them and climbed to the
top of an ant-hill to [341]be out of the way. So when the
leopards came up they found that the jackal had killed nothing. But the
jackal only complained that they had not driven the deer in the right
direction. So the next day the leopardess lay in wait and the jackal
and the cubs beat the jungle; when they came up they found that the
leopardess had killed a fine deer. “Now,” said the jackal
“let me first offer the game as a sacrifice to the spirit of our
dead leopard; so saying he tried to bite a hole in the
deer but the skin was too tough. So he made the leopardess tear the
skin and then he pushed inside the carcase and ate up all the entrails.
When he had had as much as he could eat he came out and let the
leopards begin their meal.

Another day they wished to cross a flooded river. The young leopards
offered to carry the jackal over on their shoulders but the jackal was
too proud to allow this. So the leopards all jumped across the stream
safely but when the jackal tried he fell into the middle of the water
and was carried away down stream. Lower down a crocodile was lying on
the bank sunning itself “Pull me out, pull me out!” called
the jackal “and I will bring you some fat venison.” So the
crocodile pulled him out. “Now open your mouth and shut your
eyes” said the jackal and when the crocodile obeyed he popped a
large stone into its jaws and ran away. This made the crocodile very
angry and it vowed to be revenged.

The jackal used to go every day to a certain tank to drink: and to
reach the water he used to sit on the root of an arjun tree
which projected from the bank. The crocodile observed this habit and
one day lay in wait under the water by the arjun tree and when
the jackal came to drink caught him by the leg. The jackal did not lose
his presence of mind but called out “What a fool of a crocodile
to catch hold of the root of the [342]tree instead of my
leg.” On hearing this the crocodile let go its hold and the
jackal laughed and ran away.

Every day the jackal used to lie in the sun on the top of a stack of
straw. The crocodile found this out and buried itself in the straw and
waited for the jackal. That day it happened that the jackal found a
sheep-bell and tied it round his neck so that it tinkled as he ran.
When it heard the bell the crocodile said “What a bother! I am
waiting for the jackal and here comes a sheep tinkling its bell.”
The jackal heard the crocodile’s exclamation and so detected the
trick; he at once went and fetched a light and set fire to the heap of
straw and the crocodile was burnt to death. [345]

[Contents]

Part III

[Contents]

CXXIV. The Fool and His Dinner.

A man once went to visit his mother-in-law and for dinner they gave
him rice with a relish made of young bamboo shoots. The man liked it
extremely and thought that it was meat, but he saw no pieces of meat;
so he asked his mother-in-law what it was made of; and behind him was a
door made of bamboos: so the mother-in-law said, “I have cooked
that which is behind you;” and he looked round and saw the door;
so he resolved to carry off the door, as it made such good eating, and
in the middle of the night he took it off the hinges and ran away with
it. In the morning the door was missed and the mother-in-law guessed
what had happened and had a hearty laugh.

Meanwhile the man went home with the door and chopped it up and gave
the pieces to his wife to cook; the wife said that it was useless to
cook dry chips but he insisted and said that her mother had made a
beautiful dish of them. So they were cooked and the man sat down to
eat; but they were all hard and tasteless; then he scolded his wife and
she told him to cook them himself if he was not pleased; so he cooked
some himself and the result was the same; and his wife laughed at him
and when the villagers heard of it they nicknamed him
“Silly”, and used to call the name after him when they met
him.

[Contents]

CXXV. The Stingy Daughter.

Once a man went to visit his married daughter: he intended to arrive
in time for dinner; so though he passed some edible herbs on the way he
did not stop to eat them. [346]

When he arrived he was duly welcomed and after some conversation he
told his daughter that he must return the same day; she said “All
right, but wait till it gets hot.” (The father understood this to
be a metaphorical way of saying “Wait till the dinner is
cooked.”) But the daughter was determined not to cook the rice
while her father was there: so they sat talking and when the sun was
high the daughter went into the yard and felt the ground with her foot
and finding it scorching she said “Now father, it is time for you
to be going: it has got hot” Then the old man understood that she
was not going to give him his dinner. So he took his stick and got up
to go.

Now the son-in-law was a great hunter and that day he had killed and
brought home a peacock; as he was leaving, the father said “My
daughter, if your husband ever brings home a peacock I advise you to
cook it with mowah oil cake; that makes it taste very nice.” So
directly her father had gone, the woman set to work and cooked the
peacock with mowah oil cake; but when her husband and children began to
eat it they found it horribly bitter and she herself tasted it and
found it uneatable; then she told them that her father had made fun of
her and made her spoil all the meat. Her husband asked whether she had
cooked rice for her father; and when she said “No” he said
that this was the way in which he had punished her; he had had nothing
to eat and so he had prevented their having any either; she should
entertain all visitors and especially her father. So they threw away
the meat and had no dinner.

[Contents]

CXXVI. The Backwards and Forwards Dance.

There was once a Santal who owed money to a money-lender: the lender
went to dun him every day but as he had nothing to pay with he used to
hide in the jungle and as he had no warm clothes he used to
[347]light a fire to warm himself by; and when the
fire was low he would sit near it and when it blazed up he would move
back from it. When the money-lender asked the man’s wife where he
was, she always replied “He is dancing the ‘Backwards and
Forwards’ dance.” The money-lender got curious about this;
and said that he would like to learn the dance. So one evening the
Santal met him and offered to teach him the dance but, he said he must
be paid and what would the money-lender give? The money-lender said
that he would give any thing that was asked; so the Santal called two
witnesses and before them the money-lender promised that if the Santal
taught him the dance he would let him off his debt.

The next morning the Santal took the money-lender to the jungle and
told him to take off his clothes as they would dance with only loin
cloths on; then he lit a heap of straw and they sat by it warming
themselves; and he purposely made only a small fire at first. Then the
money-lender asked when they were going to begin to dance but the
Santal said “Let us warm ourselves first, I am very cold,”
so saying he piled on more straw and as the fire blazed up they moved
away from it; and when it sank they drew nearer again. While this was
going on the two witnesses came up and the money-lender began to object
that he was not being taught to dance; but the Santal said, “What
more do you want; don’t you keep moving backwards and forwards in
front of the fire? This is the ‘Backwards and Forwards’
dance.” Seeing how he had been tricked the money-lender was much
upset and he appealed to the witnesses, but they decided against him;
and he went home crying and lost his money.

[Contents]

CXXVII. The Deaf Family.

Formerly Santals were very stupid and much afraid of Hindus; and
once a Santal was ploughing at a place [348]where two roads met
and a Hindu came along and asked him, in Hindi, where the two roads
went to; now the Santal did not understand Hindi and was also deaf and
he thought that the Hindu said “These two bullocks are
mine,”—and he answered “When did I take your
bullocks?” The Hindu sat down and repeated his question; but the
Santal did not understand and continued to assert that the bullocks
were his and were named Rice eater and Jaituk1 and had
formed part of his wife’s dowry; the Hindu kept on asking about
the roads and at last the Santal got frightened and thought
“perhaps my father-in-law took the bullocks from this man and at
any rate he will beat me and take them by force”; so he unyoked
his bullocks and handed them over to the stranger; and the Hindu when
he found out what was meant went off with them as fast as he could.

Soon after the Santal’s mother brought him out his dinner and
he told her what had happened about the bullocks! And she also was deaf
and thought that he was complaining that the rice had no salt in it; so
she answered, “Your wife gave it to me like this; I cannot say
whether she put salt into it; come, eat it up.” After he had
eaten his dinner the old woman took the dishes home; and she found her
husband cutting out a rice pounder; and she told him how their son had
scolded her because there was no salt in the rice; and the husband was
also deaf and he thought that she wanted to know what he was making and
he answered crossly “It may be a rice pounder and it may be a
rice mortar.” And as often as she repeated her story he made this
answer and told her not to worry him. Then she went to her
daughter-in-law who was also deaf and sat spinning in the verandah; and
she scolded her for not putting salt in the rice; and she answered
[349]“Who knows what I am spinning; the thread
may be all knotty, but still I reel it up.” And this is the end
of the story. Thus the man lost his bullocks through cross questions
and crooked answers; and as the whole family talked like that they soon
became poor.

[Contents]

CXXVIII. The Father-in-Law’s Visit.

A man once went to visit his married daughter in the month of
October and he went round the fields with his son-in-law to see how his
crop was growing. At each rice field they came to, the father-in-law
said “You have not dammed up the outlets” and the
son-in-law said “Yes, I have; the water is standing in the fields
all right,” and could not understand what the old man meant. The
next day they both set off to visit some friends at a distance; and the
son-in-law carried his shoes in his hand except when they came to a
river when he always put them on; and when they were going along in the
sun he carried his umbrella under his arm, but when they came to any
shady trees he put it up; and he did the same on the way back. The old
man was very astounded at this but made no remark. On reaching the
house however he told his daughter that he was sorry that her husband
was a mad man and told her what had happened. His daughter said,
“No, father, he is not mad: he has a very good reason; he does
not wear his shoes on dry ground because he can see where he is going;
but in a river you cannot see what is under-foot; there may be sharp
stones or thorns and so he puts on his shoes then; and he puts up his
umbrella under trees lest falling branches should hit him or the
droppings of birds fall on him, but in the open he can see that there
is nothing to hurt him.”

Her father admitted that these were good reasons and he had been
foolish not to understand them; he then took his leave. [350]

And in the following January he visited them again; and when he saw
their stock of rice he asked how much they had, and the son-in-law said
that there was only what he saw. “But,” said the old man,
“When I saw your fields you had a very fine crop coming
on.” “The crop was good,” answered the son-in-law
“but I owed rice to the money-lender and I have had to pay that
back and I have had to pay my rent and this is all that I have
left.” “Ah!” said the father-in-law, “when I
saw your fields I told you that you had not dammed up the outlets; by
outlets I meant these drains; as water flows away through an outlet so
has your wealth flowed away to money-lenders and landlords; is not this
so?” And the son-in-law admitted that he was right and that his
words had had a meaning.

[Contents]

CXXIX. Ramai and Somai.

Once two poor men named Ramai and Somai came to a village and took
some waste land from the headman, and ploughed it and sowed millet; and
their plough was only drawn by cows and their ploughshare was very
small, what is called a “stumpy share;” and when they had
sowed a little the rains came on; and Somai gave up cultivation and
took to fishing and for a time he made very good profits by catching
and selling fish; and he did not trouble even to reap the millet he had
sown; he laughed at Ramai who was toiling away clearing more land and
sowing maize and rice. He used to go and look at him and tell him that
he would never get a crop while he had nothing better than a
“stumpy” plough; it would probably break to pieces one day
and then he would be helpless; he had much better take to fishing which
gave quick and easy returns. Ramai made no answer, but when the rains
were over there was no more fishing to be done; and Somai was
[351]left to starve and had to go from village to
village begging. But Ramai reaped his millet and lived on that till his
maize was ripe and then his maize supported him until his rice was ripe
and he always had plenty to eat; and to show his despite for Somai,
after he had had a good dinner, he would come out in front of his house
and call out “What of the stumpy share now?” Every day
after eating he would come out and say “At first I worked hard
and suffered hunger but now I am eating in happiness; and you were
happy then but now you are starving.”

[Contents]

CXXX. The Two Brothers.

There were once two brothers who were constantly quarrelling and one
afternoon after a heated quarrel the younger brother asked the
villagers to come and judge between them. The villagers agreed to meet
the next morning. At cockcrow the next day the elder brother went to
the other’s house and woke him up and said “Brother, this
is a bad business; you have called in the villagers and they will
certainly fine us both for quarrelling; it would be much better for us
to save the money and spend it on a pig; then we and our families could
have a feast.” “I quite agree,” said the younger
brother, “but now I have summoned the villagers, what can be
done? If I merely tell them to go away, they will never come again when
I summon them.”

The elder brother said, “I have a plan; when they come they
will ask how the quarrel began and what abusive words I used; and then
you must tell them that that is a point which they have to decide; and
then they will be able to do nothing and will go away.” The
younger brother agreed to this and when the villagers came and asked
what the quarrel was about he said, “Don’t you know what
the quarrel was? That [352]was the very matter I wanted you
to decide; if you don’t know, how can you judge about it?”
And this answer he repeated to all their questioning; then they got
angry and said that he was mocking them; and they declined to give any
decision, but said that the brothers must give them dinner as they had
detained them so long; but the brothers flatly declined to do so as no
decision had been given, and the villagers went away grumbling, while
the brothers bought a pig with the money they had saved and had a jolly
feast and as they ate the elder brother said: “See what a good
plan mine was; but for it we should now have been feasting others at
our expense.”

[Contents]

CXXXI. The Three Fools.

Once upon a time three men were sitting at the foot of a tamarind
tree and a stranger came up to them with a bunch of plantains on his
shoulder and he put the plantains on the ground in front of them and
bowed and went away. Thereupon the three men began to quarrel as to who
was to have the plantains; each said that they were his because it was
to him that the man had bowed. So they started calling each other
“Fool” and after quarrelling for some time one said
“Well, yes, I admit that I am a great fool” and the other
two asked why he thought himself a fool and he said “Well one day
my wife went to the jungle with the other village women to get firewood
and left our baby in my charge; as she was a long time coming back the
child became hungry and began to cry; I walked him about but he would
not stop crying; I tried to feed him with rice and with rice water and
with Gur and with cow’s milk but he would not eat or stop
crying; I was in despair when his mother came back and took him up and
gave him the breast and the child was quiet at once. [353]

Seeing this I said to my wife “Human milk must be sweeter than
anything else.” My wife said “Who can say whether it is
nice; we all drink it when we are infants; but when we grow up we
cannot say what it is like.” Then I said that I would try what it
was like and I sucked her breast and found that it was much sweeter
than cow’s milk; after that I formed the habit and used to drink
her milk every day; and as I left none for the child it died soon
afterwards of starvation; this shows what a fool I am.”

Then one of the other men said “But I am a bigger fool than
you.” And they asked him in what way; and he said “I was
married and was very much in love with my wife; once when she had gone
on a visit to her father’s I went to fetch her home; and she was
got up in all her finery, with her hair well dressed and vermilion on
her forehead and red arta on her feet. On our way home it began
to rain and we took shelter in a village; and when the shower was over
we went on; and we came to a river which was in flood from the rain;
the water was up to a man’s armpits and I decided to carry my
wife across so that the arta on her feet might not get washed
off. So I took her on my shoulder and to prevent her feet getting wet I
held her feet uppermost and as her head was under water when I got
across I found that she had been drowned; and if I had not been such a
fool she would not have been killed.”

Then the third man said “And I also am a fool. I had
quarrelled with my own family so I lived with my wife in a house alone
at the end of the village and we had no children. Now I was very fond
of smoking; and one night I wanted a light for my hookah but there was
none in the house; so I started to go and ask for a light from some
neighbour; but as it was very dark I did not like to leave my wife all
[354]alone: nor did I like to send her out alone to
ask for the light; so at last I took my hookah in my hand and set my
wife astride on my shoulder and went round from house to house like
that, asking for a light; and all the villagers laughed like anything;
so I am a fool.” Then they agreed that they were all three fools
and had better divide the plantains equally among them and go home; and
that is what they did.

[Contents]

CXXXII. The Cure for Laziness.

There was once a man who lived happily with his wife, but she was
very lazy; when work in the fields was at its height she would pretend
to be ill. In June and July, she would begin to moan as if in pain, and
when every one else had gone off to work she would eat any rice that
they had left over; or if there were none, would cook some for herself;
Her father-in-law decided to call in some ojhas to examine her
and if they could not cure her, then to send her back to her father: so
he called in two ojhas and told them to do their best, as he did
not want the woman’s relations to complain that she had not been
properly treated.

So the first ojha felt her pulse and smiled and said nothing,
and the second ojha felt her pulse and smiled and said nothing,
and when the father-in-law asked them if they knew what was the matter,
they answered that the illness was very serious and medicines must be
applied; the father-in-law said “Yes; but you must get the
medicines or tell me exactly what is wanted and I will arrange for
it;” this conversation took place before the woman; the
ojhas said “Very well, we will do what you want but before
applying the medicine we shall have to do some incantations;” the
father-in-law answered “Do whatever is necessary to make a good
job of it. Don’t spare anything; try and get everything ready by
to-morrow: [355]for we are in great difficulty; I do not like to
leave the patient alone in the house and yet I cannot spare anyone to
look after her;” the ojhas promised and got up and went
out with the father-in-law, and in the village street they told him
that laziness was all that was the matter with the woman, but that they
knew a medicine which would cure her; so they went to the jungle and
dug up two very big tubers of the tirra plant, as big as
pumpkins, and in the evening they went to the man’s house and
told him that they had found the medicine, and that the whole household
was to come to the cross roads at the end of the village very early the
next morning with the patient and they would exorcise the disease and
apply remedies.

At cockcrow the next morning the two ojhas brought the two
tubers and put them down at the end of the village street, and then
went to the house where the sick woman lived and awoke the inmates, and
they borrowed a pot of water and some vermilion and an old winnowing
fan and then they all went to the place where the tubers had been left,
and the ojhas made the patient sit on the winnowing fan facing
the east and painted her with vermilion; then they waved pig’s
dung round her head and tied the two tubers round her neck and told her
to walk up and down the village street three times; and that would
remove the spell that was on her. So the woman began to walk up the
village street and every one laughed at her and the children ran after
her and smacked her and jumped and shouted for joy and the ojhas
called out to her “You must not take off the tubers until you are
cured.”

The woman walked up and down twice, but then she was so ashamed at
being laughed at that she threw away the tubers and ran off home; then
they all laughed the more; and followed her to the house, and the
ojhas asked whether she was cured that she had taken off the
[356]remedies they had applied; she only smiled in
answer and they told her to take care because if she ever got ill again
they would apply the same remedy; but from that day the woman
completely recovered and did her fair share of all the work.

[Contents]

CXXXIII. The Brahman’s Powers.

A long time ago a Brahman came from the west and did many wonders to
the astonishment of those who saw him. He came to a certain village and
at first put up in an old bamboo hut; there he sat motionless for three
or four days and so far as anyone could see ate and drank nothing. The
villagers said that he must eat during the night, so four men arranged
to watch him continuously; two by day and two by night; but though they
watched they could not detect him eating or drinking. Then the
villagers collected and began to question him and as his answers seemed
worthy of credit they began to bring him offerings of milk; one day he
asked to be supplied with coolies that he might rebuild the hut in
which he had taken up his abode; so coolies were brought and he made
them collect bricks and prepare mortar and at the end of the
day’s work they asked to be paid; then the Brahman wrapped
himself in his cloth and repeated some mantras, whereupon pice
fell tinkling down from his body and with them he paid the coolies; and
so it was every day until the house was finished. All this was a source
of great wonder to those who saw it.

[Contents]

CXXXIV. Ram’s Wife.

It is a custom among us Santals that husband and wife do not mention
each other’s names; and even if a husband sometimes mentions his
wife’s name in a case of urgent necessity, the wife will never
speak her husband’s; in the same way a man may not mention the
[357]name of his younger brother’s wife or of
his wife’s elder sister; women again may not use the name of
their younger sister’s husband or their husband’s elder
brother. Our forefathers have said that if any one breaks this rule his
children will be born deaf or dumb; we believe this and fear to break
through the custom.

There was once a man named Ram who was ploughing his field; when he
got to the end he found that he had not brought the seed with him; so
he called out to his wife, pretending however that he was speaking to
his daughter “Seed, daughter, seed!” And she called back
“What do you want it for? Are you going to sow it? (eram = will
you sow) and every time he called, she answered “Eram?” At
this he lost his temper and ran up to the house and asked what she
meant by speaking his name, when he told her to bring out the seed for
sowing; and thereupon he proceeded to give her a good thrashing. His
wife said to him “Your name is the same as the word for
‘sow,’ it is a very fine name you have got.” At this
Ram laughed and asked how he could help having the name which his
father and mother had given him. At this she giggled. “Then why
are you hurt by it? You had better in future take out the seed corn
with you and then you won’t have to call to me; if you do I shall
answer you as I did to-day.”

To the present day people do not use the forbidden words; or if
compelled to they spit on the ground first; even Christian converts do
not like to infringe the rule if many people are present and usually
speak of a person with a forbidden name as the father, or mother of
such and such a child.

[Contents]

CXXXV. Palo.

There was once a man named Dhuju, and he had sons named Ret Mongla,
Saru Sama and Chapat champa; [358]and their wives were named Chibo,
Porbet and Palo.

One rainy season the family was busy with the ploughing: Ret Mongla
used to take the plough cattle out to get some grazing before the sun
rose; and his two brothers took the ploughs to the fields a little
later and the old father used to look on and tell them what to do. It
was their practice when they wanted to attract each other’s
attention to call out: “Ho!” and not “Ya!” or
“Brother.” One day it had been arranged that they should
sow gundli in a field; but when the eldest brother arrived at
the place with the bullocks ready to plough he found that his two
brothers had not turned up with the ploughs; so he began to call
“Pal, ho!” (Pal = plough share).

Now just then the wife of the youngest brother, Palo, had gone
towards that field to throw away the sweepings of the cowshed and she
thought Ret Mongla was calling her name; this surprised her and made
her very angry; and she made up her mind to pay him back and then if
she were scolded for not paying proper respect to her husband’s
eldest brother to explain that he had insulted her first. So that
morning when she took out their breakfast to the men working in the
field, she pretended to be in great hurry, and putting down her basket
near the place where the three brothers were ploughing, called out to
them: “Come, stop ploughing,” and then with scarcely an
interval: “Look sharp and come and eat; or if you don’t I
will take your breakfast away again.” So the brothers stopped
their work and ate their breakfasts.

But when Palo had gone back and they were sitting having a chew of
tobacco, the eldest brother began: “Did you notice how that girl
behaved to me just now; she spoke to me in a most rude way as if I were
not a person to whom she owed respect.” The other two said that
they had noticed it themselves, and her husband [359]Chapat Champa said that he would punish her for
it when he got home. Directly he got to the house he began scolding her
and she made no answer, but that night when they were alone together
she told him that what she had done was because Ret Mongla had insulted
her by calling her by name. The next day her mother-in-law took her to
task but Palo gave the same explanation.

Then Ret Mongla’s mother went to him and asked him whether
there was any truth in this counter-charge; he saw at once what had
happened and explained that he had never called out his sister-in-law
by name; he had called out for the plough; “Pal ho! Pal
ho! because his brothers had not got the
ploughs ready; when Palo understood what a mistake she had made, she
was covered with confusion and they brought water and she washed Ret
Mongla’s feet as she had done on the day of her marriage, and
they salaamed to each other and peace was restored. But if the mistake
had not been explained Palo would have been turned out of the
family.

[Contents]

CXXXVI. The Women’s Sacrifice.

This is a story of the old days when the Santals both men and women
were very stupid. Once upon a time the men of a certain village had
fixed a day for sacrificing a bullock; but the very day before the
sacrifice was to take place, the Raja’s sipahis came to
the village and carried off all the men to do five days forced labour
at the Raja’s capital. The women thus left alone suffered the
greatest anxiety; they thought it quite possible that their husbands
and fathers would never be allowed to return or even be put to death;
so they met in conclave and decided that the best thing they could do
would be to carry out the sacrifice which the men had intended
[360]to make and which had been interrupted so
unexpectedly.

So they made haste to wash their clothes and bathe, and by way of
purification they fasted that evening and slept on the bare ground.
Then at dawn they made ready everything wanted for the sacrifice and
went to the jungle with the bullock that was to be the victim. There at
the foot of a sal tree they scraped a piece of ground bare and
smeared it with cow dung; then they put little heaps of rice at the
four corners of a square and marked the place with vermilion; then they
sprinkled water over the bullock and led it up to the square.

But here their difficulties began for none of them knew what
incantations the men said on such an occasion; they wasted a lot of
time each urging the other to begin, at last the wife of the headman
plucked up courage and started an invocation like this: “We
sacrifice this bullock to you; grant that our husbands may return; let
not the Raja sacrifice them but grant them a speedy return.”
Having got as far as this she wanted the other women to take a turn,
but they said that her invocation was capital and quite sufficient; and
they had better get on to the sacrifice at once. Easier said than done;
they none of them knew how to do it; as they all hung back the
headman’s wife scolded them roundly and bade them take the axe
and kill the beast; then they all asked where they were to strike the
animal: “Where its life resides,” said the headman’s
wife. “Where is that,” asked the women. “Watch and
see what part of it moves,” answered she, “and strike
there.” So they looked and presently the bullock moved its tail:
“That’s where its life is,” shouted they; so three or
four of them caught hold of the rope round the animal’s neck and
one woman seized the axe and struck two blows at the root of the
animal’s tail. She did it no harm but the pain of the blow made
the bullock pass water. “See the blood [361]flowing,” cried the women, and eagerly
caught the stream in a vessel; then the sacrificer dealt another blow
which made the bullock jump and struggle until it broke loose and
galloped off. The women followed in pursuit and chased it through a
field of cotton; the bullock knocked off many of the ripe cotton pods
and these the women thought were lumps of fat fallen from the wounded
bullock, so they took them home and ate them; such fools were the women
in those days.

[Contents]

CXXXVII. The Thief’s Son.

Once upon a time a goat strayed into the house of a certain man who
promptly killed it and hid the body. At evening the owner of the goat
missed it and came in search of it. He asked the man who had killed it
whether he had seen it, but the latter put on an innocent air and
declared that he knew nothing about it but he invited the owner of the
missing animal to look into the goat house and see if it had
accidentally got mixed up with the other goats. The search was of
course in vain.

Directly the owner had gone the thief brought out the body and
skinned and cut it up, and every one in the house ate his fill of
flesh. Before they went to sleep the thief told his sons to be careful
not to go near any of the other boys when they were grazing the cattle
next day, lest they should smell that they had been eating meat.

Next morning the thief’s son took his goats out to graze and
was careful not to go near any of the other boys who were tending
cattle; whenever they approached him he moved away. At last they asked
him what was the matter; and he told them that they must keep at a
distance lest they should smell what he had been eating. “What
have you eaten?” The simpleton replied [362]that
he had been eating goat’s flesh and that there was still some in
the house. The cowherds at once ran off and told the owner of the lost
goat. The news soon spread and the villagers caught the man who had
killed the goat and searched his house and found the flesh of the goat.
Then they fined him one rupee four annas and made him give another goat
in exchange for the one he had stolen.

[Contents]

CXXXVIII. The Divorce.

There was once a man who had reason to suspect his wife’s
faithfulness. He first tried threatening and scolding her; but this had
no good effect, for far from being ashamed she only gave him back
harder words than she received. So he set to work to find some way of
divorcing her without making a scandal. One day when he came home with
a fine basket of fish which he had caught he found that his
father-in-law had come to pay them a visit. As he cleaned the fish he
grumbled at the thought that his wife would of course give all the best
of them to her father; at last an idea struck him. As he handed over
the fish to his wife he told her to be careful not to give her father
the heads of the mangri fish nor the dust of tobacco, as it was
very wrong to give either of those things to a visitor. “Very
well,” she answered; but to herself she thought “What does
he mean by forbidding me to do these things? I shall take care to give
my father nothing but the heads of the fish” for her pleasure was
to thwart her husband. So when the evening meal was ready she filled a
separate plate for her father with nothing but the fish heads. As her
husband heard the old man munching and crunching the bones he smiled to
himself at the success of the plot. When his father was about to leave
he asked for some tobacco, and the [363]woman brought him only
tobacco dust which she had carefully collected out of the bottom of the
bag. The old gentleman went off without a word but very disappointed
with his treatment.

A few days later the woman went to visit her father’s house,
and then he at once asked her what she meant by treating him as she had
done. “I am sorry,” said she: “I did it to spite my
husband; he went out of his way to tell me not to give you the heads of
the fish and the dust of tobacco, and so I picked out nothing but heads
for you and gave you all the tobacco dust I could collect because I was
so angry with him.” From this her father easily understood that
husband and wife were not getting on well together.

Time passed and one day her mother went to visit the troublesome
wife. As she was leaving, her daughter asked whether there was any
special reason for her coming. Her mother admitted that she had come
hoping to borrow a little oil to rub on the cattle at the coming Sohrae
festival, but as her son-in-law was not there she did not like to
mention it and would not like to take any without his consent. “O
never mind him!” said the woman and insisted on her mother taking
away a pot—not of cheap mowah or mustard oil,—but of
ghee.

Now a little girl saw her do this and the tale was soon all over the
village; but the undutiful wife never said a word about it to her
husband, and it was only after some days that he heard from others of
his wife’s extravagance. When it did reach his ears he seized the
opportunity and at once drove her out of the house, and when a
panchayat was called insisted on divorcing her for wasting his
substance behind his back. No one could deny that the reason was a good
one and so the panchayat had to allow the divorce. Thus he got rid of
his wife without letting his real reason for doing so be known.
[364]

[Contents]

CXXXIX. The Father and the Father-in-Law.

There was once a Raja who had five sons and his only daughter was
married to a neighbouring Raja.

In the course of time this Raja fell into poverty; all his horses
and cattle died and his lands were sold. At last they had even to sell
their household utensils and clothes for food. They had only cups and
dishes made of gourds to use and the Raja’s wife and sons had to
go and work as day labourers in order to get food to eat. At last one
day the Raja made up his mind to go and visit his married daughter and
ask her husband’s family to give him a brass cup
(bāti) that he might have something suitable to drink out
of. Off he went and when he reached the house he was welcomed very
politely by his daughter’s father-in-law and given a seat and
water to wash his feet, and a hookah was produced and then the
following conversation began.

“Where have you come from, father of my
daughter-in-law?”

“I have walked from home, father of my son-in-law?”

“You come here so often that you make me quite frightened! How
is it? Is it well with you and yours? with body and skin? Would it not
be well for us to exchange news?”

“Yes indeed; for how can you know how I am getting on if I do
not tell you. By your kind enquiries my life has grown as big as a
mountain, my bosom is as broad as a mat, and my beard has become as
long as a buffalo horn.”

“And I also, father of my daughter-in-law, am delighted at
your coming and enquiring about me; otherwise I should wonder where you
had settled down, and be thinking that you did not know the way
relations should [365]behave to each other; at present, I am glad
to say, the seed left after sowing, the living who have been left
behind by death, by your favour and the goodness of God, are all doing
well. Is it not a proverb. ‘The eye won’t walk, but the ear
will go and come back in no time. Now the ear is the visitor and so
far as it has looked our friends up, it is well with all, so far as I
know.”

The other answered; “Then I understand that by the goodness of
God, all is very well with you all, O father of my son-in-law. That is
what we want, that it may be well with us, body and soul.”

“Life is our wealth; life is great wealth. So long as life
lasts wealth will come. Even if there is nothing in the house, we can
work and earn wealth, but if life goes where shall we obtain
it?”

The visitor answered “That is true; and we have been suffering
much from the ‘standing’ disease; (i.e. hunger) I have
tried to get medicine to cure it in vain; the Doctors know of none. I
should be greatly obliged if you could give me some medicine for
it.”

“The very same disease has overflowed this part of the
country” was the reply:—at this they both laughed; and the
visitor resumed,—

“Don’t they say ‘we asked after them and they did
not ask anything about us in return;’? it is right now for me to
ask how you are getting on” and so saying he proceeded in his
turn to put the same questions and to receive the same answers.

Then they went out and bathed and came back and had some curds and
rice and sat for a while smoking their hookahs. Then a goat was killed
and cooked and they had a grand feast. But the Raja did not forget
about the bati, and he took his daughter aside and told her to
sound her mother-in-law about it. She brought back a message that if he
wanted anything he should [366]ask for it himself. So he went
very shamefacedly to his host and told him that be must he leaving:
“Well, good-bye, are you sure you only came to pay us a visit and
had no other object?” The Raja seized the opening that this reply
gave him and said “Yes, I had something in my mind; we are so
poor now that we have not even a brass cup to drink out of, and I hoped
that you would give me one of yours.”

“My dear Sir, you say that you have gourds to drink but of: we
have not even that; we have to go down to the stream and drink out of
our hands; I certainly cannot give you a bati.” At this
rebuff the poor Raja got up and went away feeling very angry at the
manner in which he had been treated.

When he reached home the Raja vowed that he would not even live in
the neighbourhood of such faithless friends so he went with all his
family to a far country. In their new home his luck changed and he
prospered so much that in a few years he became the Raja of the
country.

Meanwhile the other Raja—the father-in-law,—fell into
such poverty that he and his family had to beg for their living.

The first Raja heard about this and made a plan to attract them to
the place where he lived. He ordered a great tank to be dug and
promised the workers one pice for each basket of earth they removed.
This liberal wage attracted labourers from all sides; they came in such
numbers that they looked like ants working and among them came the
father-in-law and his family and asked the Raja for work. The Raja
recognised them at once though they did not know him; at first the
sight of their distress pleased him but then he reflected that if he
cherished anger Chando would be angry with him, so he decided to treat
them well and invited them to his palace. The poor creatures thought
that they [367]were probably doomed for sacrifice but could
only do as they were bid. Great was their amazement when they were well
fed and entertained and when they learnt who their benefactor was they
burst into tears; and the Raja pointed out to them how wrong it was to
laugh at the poor, because wealth might all fly away as theirs had
done.

[Contents]

CXL. The Reproof.

A poor man once went to visit his daughter’s father-in-law who
was very rich. The rich man was proud of his wealth and looked down on
poverty; so he made no special entertainment for his visitor and only
gave him rice and dal for his dinner. When they went out to
bathe he stood on the bank of the tank and began to boast. “I
made this tank; all the land over there belongs to me; all those
buffaloes and cattle you see, belong to me; I have so many that I have
to keep two men to milk them.”

The visitor said nothing at the time but that afternoon as host and
guest sat smoking together they saw a beggar standing in front of the
house. The sun was very powerful and the ground was so hot that the
beggar kept shifting from one foot to another as he stood out in the
sun. Then the poor visitor spoke up and said “It is strange that
when you made such a nice house you made the roof without eaves.”
“Where are your eyes? Cannot you see the eaves?” asked the
host in astonishment. The other answered “I see that you have
made a house as high as a hill but if it had any eaves, surely that
poor beggar there would not be standing out in the sun; and this
morning you must have been mistaken in saying that that tank was yours
for otherwise you would have given me fish for dinner; and I think that
they were only rocks and tufts [368]of grass which you pointed
out to me as your flocks and herds for otherwise you would have offered
me some milk or curds.” And the rich man was ashamed and had no
answer to make.

[Contents]

CXLI. Enigmas.

Once upon a time a man and his son went on a visit to the
son’s father-in-law. They were welcomed in a friendly way; but
the father-in-law was much put out at the unexpected visit as he had
nothing ready for the entertainment of his guest. He took an
opportunity to go into the house and said to one of his
daughters-in-law. “Now, my girl, fill the little river and the
big river while I am away; and polish the big axe and the little axe
and dig out five or six channels, and put hobbles on these relations
who have come to visit us and bar them Into the cow house. I am going
to bathe and will come back with a pot full of the water of dry land,
then we will finish off these friends.”

The two visitors outside overheard this strange talk and began to
wonder what it meant. They did not like the talk about axes and digging
channels, it sounded as if their host meant to kill them as a sacrifice
and bury their bodies in a river bed; rich men had been known to do
such things. With this thought in their minds they got up and began to
run away as fast as their legs could carry them. But when the young
woman saw what they were doing she ran after them and called them
back.

They reluctantly stopped to hear what she had to say; and when she
came up they reproached her for not having warned them of the fate in
store for them. But she only laughed at their folly and explained that
what her father-in-law meant was that she should wash their feet and
give them a seat in the cow house; and [369]make ready two pots
of rice beer and polish the big and little brass basins and make five
or six leaf cups and he would bring back some liquor and they would all
have a drink. At this explanation they had a hearty laugh and went back
to the house.

[Contents]

CXLII. The Too Particular Wife.

There was once a man with a large tumour on his forehead and his
wife was so ashamed of it that she would never go about with him
anywhere for fear of being laughed at. One day she went with a party of
friends to see the Charak Puja. Her husband wished to go with
her but she flatly declined to allow him.

So when she had gone he went to a friend’s house and borrowed
a complete set of new clothes and a large pagri. When he had rigged
himself out in these he could hardly be recognised; but his forehead
with the tumour was quite visible. Then he too went off to the fair and
found his wife busy dancing. After watching her for some time he
borrowed one of the drums and began to play for the dancers; and in
particular he played and danced just in front of his wife.

When he saw that his wife was preparing to go home he started off
ahead, got rid of his fine clothes and took the cattle out to graze.
Presently he went back to the house and asked his wife whether she had
enjoyed the fun. “You should have come to see it for
yourself,” said she.

“But you would not let me! Otherwise I should have
gone.”

“Yes,” answered his wife, “I was ashamed of the
lump on your forehead but other people do not seem to mind, for there
was a man there with a lump just like yours who was playing the drum
and taking a leading part in the fun and no one seemed to laugh at him:
so in future I shall not mind going about with you.” [370]

[Contents]

CXLIII. The Paharia Socialists.

Formerly before the Santals came into the country the four
taluqs of Sankara, Chiptiam, Sulunga and Dhaka formed the
Paharia Raj and the whole country was dense jungle. Then the Santals
came and cleared the jungle, and brought the land under cultivation.
The Paharia Raja of Gando was named Somar Singh and he paid tribute to
the Burdwan Raja.

Once ten or twelve Paharias went to Burdwan to pay the annual
tribute. After they had paid in the money the Raja gave them a feast
and a room to sleep in and sent them one bed. The Paharias had a
discussion as to who should sleep on the bed and in order to avoid any
ill-feeling about it they decided that they would all sleep on the
ground and put their feet on the bed and then they could feel that they
had all an equal share of it. This they did and in the morning the
Burdwan Raja came in and found them all lying in this strange position
and was very much amused. He explained that he had sent the bed for the
use of the chief man among them and asked whether they had no
distinctions of rank. “Yes” they said “we have in our
own villages; but here we are in a foreign land and as we do not all
belong to one village who is to decide which is the chief among us.
Away from home we are all equal.”

[Contents]

CXLIV. How a Tiger Was Killed.

In the days when the Santals lived in the jungle country there was
once a man who had a patch of maize by the bank of a stream; and to
watch his crop he had put up a platform in his field. Now one day he
stole a goat and killed it; he did not take it home [371]nor
tell his family; he took it to the maize patch with some firewood and
fire and a knife and a hatchet; and he hoisted all these on to his
platform and lit a fire in the bottom of an earthen pot and cut up the
goat and began to cook and eat the flesh. And a tiger smelt the flesh
and came and sat down under the platform.

As the man ate he threw down the bones and as he threw them the
tiger caught them in its mouth; and after a time the man noticed that
he did not hear the bones strike the ground; so he looked down quietly
and saw the tiger; then he was very frightened for he thought that when
he could no longer keep the tiger quiet by throwing down bits of meat,
the tiger would spring up unto the platform and eat him.

At last a thought struck him and he drew the head of his hatchet off
the handle and put it in the fire till it became red-hot; and meanwhile
he kept the tiger quiet by throwing down pieces of meat. Then when the
axe head was ready he picked it out of the fire and threw it down; the
tiger caught it as it fell and roared aloud with pain; its tongue and
palate and throat were so burnt that it died.

Thus the man saved himself from the tiger and whether the story be
true or no, it is known to all Santals.

[Contents]

CXLV. The Goala’s Daughter.

There was once a man of the Goala caste who had an only
daughter and she grew up and was married, but had no child; and after
twenty years of married life she gave up all hope of having any. This
misfortune preyed on her mind and she fell into a melancholy. Her
parents asked her why she was always weeping and all the answer she
would give was “My sorrow is that I have never worn clothes of
‘Dusty [372]cloth’ and that is a sorrow which you
cannot cure.” But her father and mother determined to do what
they could for their daughter and sent servants with money into all the
bazars to buy “Dusty cloth”. The shopkeepers had never
heard of such an article so they bought some cloth of any sort they
could get and brought it to the Goala; when he offered it to his
daughter she thanked him and begged him not to waste his money:

“You do not understand” said she—“what I
mean by ‘Dusty cloth.’ God has not given it to me and no
one else can; what I mean by ‘Dusty cloth’ is the cloth of
a mother made dusty by the feet of her child.” Then her father
and mother understood and wept with her, saying that they would do what
man could do but this was in the hands of God; and they
sang:—

“Whatever the child of another may suffer, we
care not:

But our own child, we will take into our lap, even when
it is covered with dust.”

[Contents]

CXLVI. The Brahman’s Clothes.

There was once a Brahman who had two wives; like many Brahmans he
lived by begging and was very clever at wheedling money out of people.
One day the fancy took him to go to the market place dressed only in a
small loin cloth such as the poorest labourers wear and see how people
treated him. So he set out but on the road and in the market place and
in the village no one salaamed to him or made way to him and when he
begged no one gave him alms. He soon got tired of this and hastened
home and putting on his best pagri and coat and dhoti went back
to the market place. This time every one who met him on the road
salaamed low to him and made way for him and every shopkeeper to whom
he went gave him alms: and the [373]people in the village who had
refused before gladly made offerings to him. The Brahman went home
smiling to himself and took off his clothes and put them in a heap and
prostrated himself before them three or four times, saying each time.
“O source of wealth: O source of wealth! it is clothes that are
honoured in this world and nothing else.”

[Contents]

CXLVII. The Winning of a Bride.

Formerly this country was all jungle; and when the jungle was first
cleared the crops were very luxuriant; and the Santals had large herds
of cattle, for there was much grazing; so they had milk and curds in
quantities and ghee was as common as water; but now milk and
curds are not to be had. In those days the Santals spent their time in
amusements and did not trouble about amassing wealth, but they were
timid and were much oppressed by their Rajas who looted any man who
showed signs of wealth. Well, in those days the winters were very cold
and there used to be heavy frost at nights. And there was a man who had
seven grown-up daughters and no son; and at the time of threshing the
paddy he had to undergo much hardship because he had no son to work for
him; he had to sleep on the threshing floor and to get up very early to
let out the cattle; and as the hoar frost lay two inches deep he found
it bitterly cold.

In those days the villagers had a common threshing floor; and one
day this man was talking to a friend and he jestingly asked whether he
would spend a night naked on the threshing floor; and the friend said
that he would if there were sufficient inducement but certainly not for
nothing. Then the father of the seven daughters said “If you or
any one else will spend a night naked on the threshing floor I will
give him my eldest daughter [374]in marriage without charging any
bride price.”—for he wanted a son-in-law to help him in his
work. A common servant in the employ of the village headman heard him
and said “I will accept the offer;” the man had not
bargained for such an undesirable match but he could not go back from
his word; so he agreed and said that he would choose a night; and he
waited till it was very cold and windy and then told the
headman’s servant to sleep out that night. The servant spent the
night on the threshing floor without any clothes in spite of the frost
and won his bride. [375]


1 Jaituk
is a bullock given to a girl by her parents at the time of her
marriage.

[Contents]

Part IV

The following stories illustrate the belief in Bongas, i.e. the
spirits which the Santals believe to exist everywhere, and to take an
active part in human affairs. Bongas frequently assume the form of
young men and women and form connections with human beings of the
opposite sex.

At the bidding of witches they cause disease, or they hound on
the tiger to catch men. But they are by no means always malevolent and
are capable of gratitude. The Kisar Bonga or Brownie who takes up his
abode in a house steals food for the master of the house, and unless
offended will cause him to grow rich. [377]

[Contents]

CXLVIII. Marriage with Bongas.

There have been many cases of Santals marrying bonga girls.
Not of course with formal marriage ceremonies but the marriage which
results from merely living together.

In Darbar village near Silingi there are two men who married
bonga. One of them was very fond of playing on the flute and his
playing attracted a bonga girl who came to him looking like a
human girl, while he was tending buffaloes. After the intimacy had
lasted some time she invited him to visit her parents, so he went with
her and she presented him to her father and mother as her husband. But
he was very frightened at what he saw; for the seats in the house were
great coiled up snakes and on one side a number of tigers and leopards
were crouching. Directly he could get a word alone with his wife he
begged her to come away but she insisted on his staying to dinner; so
they had a meal of dried rice and curds and gur and afterwards
he smoked a pipe with his bonga father-in-law and then he set
off home with his bonga wife. They were given a quantity of
dried rice and cakes to take with them when they left.

After seeing him home his wife left him; so he thought that he would
share the provisions which he had brought with a friend of his; he
fetched his friend but when they came to open the bundle in which the
rice and cakes had been tied, they found nothing but [378]meral leaves and cow dung cakes such as
are used for fuel. This friend saw that the food must have been given
by bongas and it was through the friend that the story became
known.

In spite of this the young man never gave up his bonga wife
until his family married him properly. She used to visit his house
secretly, but would never eat food there; and during his connection
with her all his affairs prospered, his flocks and herds increased and
he became rich, but after he married he saw the bonga girl no
more.

The adventures of the other young man of the same village were much
the same. He made the acquaintance of a bonga girl thinking that
she was some girl of the village, but she really inhabited a spring, on
the margin of which grew many ahar flowers. One day she asked
him to pick her some of the ahar flowers and while he was doing
so she cast some sort of spell upon him and spirited him away into the
pool. Under the water he found dry land and many habitations; they went
on till they came to the bonga girl’s house and there he
too saw the snake seats and tigers and leopards.

He was hospitably entertained and stayed there about six months; one
of his wife’s brothers was assigned to him as his particular
companion and they used to go out hunting together. They used tigers
for hunting-dogs and their prey was men and women, whom the tigers
killed, while the bonga took their flesh home and cooked it. One
day when they were hunting the bonga pointed out to the young
man a wood cutter in the jungle and told him to set the tiger on to
“yonder peacock”; but he could not bring himself to commit
murder; so he first shouted to attract the wood cutter’s
attention and then let the tiger loose; the wood cutter saw the animal
coming and killed it with his axe as it sprang upon him. [379]

His bonga father-in-law was so angry with him for having
caused the death of the tiger, that he made his daughter take her
husband back to the upper world again.

In spite of all he had seen the young man did not give up his
bonga wife and every two or three months she used to spirit him
away under the water: and now that man is a jān guru.

[Contents]

CXLIX. The Bonga Headman.

Sarjomghutu is a village about four miles from Barhait Bazar on the
banks of the Badi river. On the river bank grows a large banyan tree.
This village has no headman or paranic; any headman who is
appointed invariably dies; so they have made a bonga who lives
in the banyan tree their headman.

When any matter has to be decided, the villagers all meet at the
banyan tree, where they have made their manjhi than; they take
out a stool to the tree and invite the invisible headman to sit on it.
Then they discuss the matter and themselves speak the answers which the
headman is supposed to give. This goes on to the present day and there
is no doubt that these same villagers sometimes offer human sacrifices,
but they will never admit it, for it would bring them bad luck to speak
about it.

The villagers get on very well with the bonga. If any of them
has a wedding or a number of visitors at his house, and has not enough
plates and dishes, he goes to the banyan tree and asks the headman to
lend him some. Then he goes back to his house, and returning in a
little while finds the plates and dishes waiting for him under the
tree; and when he has finished with them he cleans them well and takes
them back to the tree. [380]

[Contents]

CL. Lakhan and the Bongas.

Once a young man named Lakhan was on a hunting party and he pursued
a deer by himself and it led him a long chase until he was far from his
companions; and when he was close behind it they came to a pool all
overgrown with weeds and the deer jumped into the pool and Lakhan after
it; and under the weeds he found himself on a dry high road and he
followed the deer along this until it entered a house and he also
entered. The people of the house asked him to sit down but the stool
which was offered him was a coiled up snake, so he would not go near
it; and he saw that they were bongas and was too frightened to
speak. And in the cattle pen attached to the house he saw a great herd
of deer.

Then a boy came running in and asked the mistress of the house who
Lakhan was; she said that he had brought their kid home for them.
Lakhan wanted to run away but he could not remember the road by which
he had come. Two daughters of the house were there and they wanted
their father to keep Lakhan as a son-in-law; but their father told them
to catch him a kid and let him go; so they brought him a fawn and the
two girls led him back and took him through the pool to the upper
world: but on the way they put some enchantment on him, for two or
three weeks later he went mad and in his madness he ran about from one
place to another and one day he ran into the pool and was seen no more,
and no one knows where he went or whether the two bonga maidens took
him away.

[Contents]

CLI. The House Bonga.

Once upon a time there was a house bonga who lived in the
house of the headman of a certain village; and [381]it
was a shocking thief; it used to steal every kind of grain and food,
cooked and uncooked; out of the houses of the villagers. The villagers
knew what was going on but could never catch it.

One evening however the bonga was coming along with a pot of
boiled rice which it had stolen, when one of the villagers suddenly
came upon it face to face; the bonga slunk into the hedge but
the villager saw it clearly and flung his stick at it, whereupon the
bonga got frightened and dropped the pot of rice on the ground
so that it was smashed to pieces and fled. The villager pursued the
bonga till he saw it enter the headman’s house. Then he
went home, intending the next morning to show the neighbours the spilt
rice lying on the path; but when the morning came he found that the
rice had been removed, so he kept quiet.

At midday he heard the headman’s servants complaining that the
rice which had been given them for breakfast was so dirty and muddy
that some of them had not been able to eat it at all; then he asked how
they were usually fed “Capitally,” they answered “we
get most varied meals, often with turmeric and pulse or vegetables
added to the rice; but that is only for the morning meal; for supper we
get only plain rice.” “Now, I can tell you the reason of
that” said the villager, “there is a greedy bonga in
your house who goes stealing food at night and puts some of what he
gets into your pots for your morning meal.” “That’s a
fine story” said the servants: “No, it’s true”
said the villager, and told them how the evening before he had made the
bonga drop the rice and how afterwards it had been scraped up
off the ground; and when they heard this they believed him because they
had found the mud in their food.

Some time afterwards the same man saw the bonga again at
night making off with some heads of Indian corn; so he woke up a friend
and they both took [382]sticks and headed off the bonga, who
threw down the Indian corn and ran away to the headman’s house.
Then they woke up the headman and told him that a thief had run into
his house. So he lit a lamp and went in to look, and they could hear
the bonga running about all over the house making a great
clatter and trying to hide itself; but they could not see it. Then they
took the headman to see the Indian corn which the bonga had
dropped in its flight. The next day the villagers met and fined the
headman for having the bonga in his house; and from that time
the bonga did not steal in that village, and whenever the two
men who had chased it visited the headman’s house the
bonga was heard making a great clatter as it rushed about trying
to hide.

[Contents]

CLII. The Sarsagun Maiden.

There was once a Sarsagun girl who was going to be married; and a
large party of her girl friends went to the jungle to pick leaves for
the wedding. The Sarsagun girl persisted in going with them as usual
though they begged her not to do so. As they picked the leaves they
sang songs and choruses; so they worked and sang till they came to a
tree covered with beautiful flowers; they all longed to adorn their
hair with the flowers but the difficulty was that they had no comb or
looking glass; at last one girl said that a bonga Kora lived
close by who could supply them; thereupon there was a great dispute as
to who should go to the bonga Kora and ask for a mirror and
comb; each wanted the other to go; and in the end they made the
Sarsagun girl go. She went to the bonga Kora and called
“Bonga Kora give a me mirror and comb that we may adorn our hair
with Mirjin flowers.” The Bonga Kora pointed them out to
her lying on a shelf and she took them away. [383]

Then they had a gay time adorning their hair; but when they had
finished not one of the girls would consent to take back the mirror and
comb. The Sarsagun maiden urged that as she had brought them it was
only fair that someone else should take them back; but they would not
listen, so in the end she had to take them. The Bonga Kora pointed to a
shelf for her to place them on but when she went to do so and was well
inside his house he closed the door and shut her in. Her companions
waited for her return till they were tired and then went home and told
her mother what had happened. Then her father and brother went in
search of her and coming to the Bonga Kora’s home they sang:

“Daughter, you combed yourself with a one row
comb

Daughter, you put mirjin flowers in your
hair

Daughter, come hither to us.”

But she only answered from within—

“He has shut me in with a stone, father

He has closed the door upon me, father

Do you and my mother go home again.”

Then her eldest brother came and sang the same song and received the
same answer; her mothers’s brother and father’s sister then
came and sang, also in vain; so they all went home.

Just then the intended bridegroom with his party arrived at the
village and were welcomed with refreshments and invited to camp under a
tree; but while the bridegroom’s party were taking their ease,
the bride’s relations were in a great to-do because the bride was
missing; and when the matchmaker came and asked them to get the
marriage ceremony over at once that the bridegroom might return, they
had to take him into the house and tell him what had happened. The
matchmaker went and told the bridegroom, who at once called
[384]his men to him and mounted his horse and rode
off in a rage. Now it happened that the drummers attached to the
procession had stopped just in front of the home of the Bonga
Kora
and were drumming away there; so when the bridegroom rode up
to them his horse passed over the door of the Bonga Kora’s home
and stamped on it so hard that it flew open; standing just inside was
the Sarsagun girl; at once the bridegroom pulled her out, placed her on
his horse and rode off with her to his home.

[Contents]

CLIII. The Schoolboy and the Bonga.

There was once a boy who went every day to school and on his way
home he used always to bathe in a certain tank. Every day he left his
books and slate on the bank while he bathed and no one ever touched
them. But one day while he was in the water a bonga maiden came
out of the tank and took his books and slate with her under the water.
When the boy had finished bathing he searched for them a long time in
vain and then went home crying. When the midday meal was served he
refused to eat anything unless his books were found: his father and
mother promised to find them for him and so he ate a very little. When
the meal was finished his father and mother went to the bonga maiden
and besought her—singing

“Give daughter-in-law, give

Give our boy his pen, give up his pen.”

The bonga maiden sang in answer

“Let the owner of the pen

Come himself and fetch it.”

Then the boy’s eldest brother and his wife went and sang

“Give, sister-in-law, give,

Give our brother his pen: give up his pen.”

[385]

The bonga maiden sing in answer

“Let the owner of the pen

Come himself and fetch it”

Then the boy’s maternal uncle and his wife went and sang the
same song and received the same answer. So they told the boy that he
must go himself.

When he reached the tank the bonga girl came up and held out
his books to him; but when he went to take them she drew back and so
she enticed him into the tank; but when once he was under the water he
found he was in quite a dry and sandy place. There he stayed and was
married to the bonga girl. After he had lived with her a long
time he became homesick and longed to see his father and mother. So he
told his bonga wife that he must go and visit them. “Then
do not take your school books with you,” said she; “perhaps
you won’t come back.” “No, I will surely
return,” he answered; so she agreed to his going and said that
she would sit on the door step and watch for his return; and he must
promise to be very quick. She tied up some cakes and dried rice for him
and also gave him back his school books.

She watched him go to his home and sat and watched for his return
but he never came back. Evening came and night came but he did not
return: then the bonga girl rose and went after him. She went
through the garden and up to her husband’s house in a flame of
fire: and there she changed herself into a Karinangin snake and
entering the house climbed on to the bed where the boy lay sleeping and
climbed on to his breast and bit him.

“Rise mother, rise mother,

The Karinangin snake

Is biting me.”

he called—

But no one heard him though he kept on calling: so he died and the
bonga girl went away with his spirit. [386]

[Contents]

CLIV. The Bonga’s Cave.

There was once a young bonga who dwelt in a cave in the side
of a hill in the jungle; and every day he placed on a flat stone
outside, a pot of oil and a comb and a looking glass and some lamp
black or vermilion; any woman who went to the jungle could see these
things lying there; but they were never visible to a man. After a time
the girls who went to the jungle began to use the comb and looking
glass and to dress and oil their hair there; it became a regular custom
for them to go first to the flat stone before collecting their firewood
or leaves.

One day five girls went together to the jungle and after they had
combed and dressed their hair it happened that one got left behind; and
seeing her alone the bonga came out of the cave and creeping up
quietly from behind threw his arms round her; and although she shouted
to her friends for help he dragged her inside the cave. Her companions
were just in time to see her disappear; and they begged and prayed the
bonga to let the girl go for once; but the bonga answered
from within that he would never let her go but was going to keep her as
his wife; and he drew a stone door over the mouth of the cave. News of
the misfortune was sent to the girl’s parents and they came
hastening to the place; and her mother began to sing:

“My daughter, you rubbed your hair with oil from
a pot:

My daughter, you combed your hair with a comb with one
row of teeth;

Come hither to me, my daughter.”

And the girl sang from within the cave:

“Mother, he has shut me in with a stone

With a stone door he has shut me in, mother

Mother, you must go back home.”

[387]

Then her father sang the same song and got the same answer; so they
all went home. Then the girl’s father’s younger brother and
his wife came and sang the song and received the same answer and then
her mother’s brother and father’s sister came and then all
her relations, but all in vain. Last of all came her brother riding on
a horse and when he heard his sister’s answer he turned his horse
round and made it prance and kick until it kicked open the stone door
of the cave; but this was of no avail for inside were inner doors which
he could not open; so he also had to go home and leave his sister with
the bonga.

The girl was not unhappy as the wife of the bonga and after a
time she proposed to him they should go and pay a visit to her parents.
So the next day they took some cakes and dried rice and set off; they
were welcomed right warmly and pressed to stay the night. In the course
of the afternoon the girl’s mother chanced to look at the
provisions which they had brought with them; and was surprised to see
that in place of cakes was dried cowdung and instead of rice, leaves of
the meral tree. The mother called her daughter in to look but
the girl could give no explanation; all she knew was that she had put
up cakes and dried rice at starting. Her father told them all to keep
quiet about the matter lest there should be any unpleasantness and the
bonga decline to come and visit them again.

Now the girl’s brother had become great friends with his
bonga brother-in-law and it was only natural that when the
bonga and his wife set off home the next morning he should offer
to accompany them part of the way. Off they started, the girl in front,
then the bonga and then her brother; now the brother had hidden
an axe under his cloth and as they were passing through some jungle he
suddenly attacked the bonga from behind and cut off his head.
Then he called [388]to his sister that he had killed the
bonga and bade her come back with him; so the two turned back
and as they looked round this saw that the bonga’s head
was coming rolling after them. At this they started to run and ran as
hard as they could until they got to the house and all the way the head
came rolling after until it rolled right into the house. There was a
fire burning on the hearth and they plucked up courage to take the head
and throw it into the fire where it was burnt to ashes. That was the
end of the bonga but eight or nine days later the girl’s
head began to ache and in spite of all medicines they applied it got
worse and worse until in a short time she died. Then they knew that the
bonga had taken her away and had not given her up.

[Contents]

CLV. The Bonga’s Victim.

Once upon a time there were seven brothers and they had one sister.
Every day they used to go out hunting leaving their wives and sister at
home. One very hot day they had been hunting since dawn and began to
feel very thirsty; so they searched for water but could find none. Then
one of them climbed a tree and from its summit saw a beautiful pool of
water close by: so he came down and they all went in the direction in
which he had seen the water; but they could not find it anywhere; so
another of the brothers climbed a tree and he called out that he could
see the pool close by, but when he came down and led them in what he
thought was the right direction he was equally unable to find the
water; and so it went on; whenever they climbed a tree they could see
the water close by, but when on the ground they could not find it; and
all the time they were suffering tortures from thirst.

Then they saw that some bonga was deluding them [389]and
that they must offer some sacrifice to appease him.

At first they proposed to devote one of their wives to the
bonga; but not one of the brothers was willing that his wife
should be the victim; and they had no children to offer so at last they
decided to dedicate their only sister as the sacrifice. Then they
prayed “Ye who are keeping the water from us, listen; we dedicate
to you our only sister; show us where the water is.” No sooner
had they said this than they saw a pool of water close beside them and
hastened to it and quenched their thirst. Then they rested and began to
discuss how they should sacrifice their sister; and at last they
decided that as they had devoted her to the bonga because they
wanted water, it would be best to cast her into the water; and they
planned to go and work one day near a pond of theirs and make their
sister bring their breakfast out to them and then drown her.

So they went home and two or three days later the eldest brother
said that the time had come for the sacrifice; but the two youngest
loved their sister very much and begged for a little delay. Out of pity
the others agreed; but almost at once one of the brothers fell ill and
was like to die. Medicines were tried but had no effect; then they
called in an ojha and he told them that the bonga to whom
they had made the vow while out hunting had caused the illness and that
if they did not fulfil the vow their brother would die. Then they all
went to the sick man’s bedside and poured out water on the ground
and swore that they would fulfil their vow; no sooner had they done so
than the sick man was restored to health.

So the very next day they arranged to go and level the field near
their pond and they told their wives to send their sister to them with
their breakfast. When the time came the girl took out their breakfast
and put it down by them and they sent her to draw water for
[390]them from the pond but when she put her water
pot down to the surface it would not sink so as to let the water run
in. The girl called out to her brothers that the pot would not fill;
they told her to go a little further into the water; so she went in
till the water was up to her thighs but still the pot would not fill:
then they called to her to go in further and she went in waist deep but
still it would not fill; then she went in up to her neck and still it
would not fill; then she went in a little further and the water closed
over her and she was drowned. At this sight the brothers threw away the
food which she had brought and hastened home.

Some days later the body rose and floated to the bank and at the
place where it lay a bamboo sprang up and grew and flourished. One day
a Dome went to cut it down to make a flute of; as he raised his axe the
voice of the girl spoke from within the bamboo “O Dome, do not
cut high up; cut low down.” The Dome looked about but could not
see who it was who spoke; however he obeyed the voice and cut the
bamboo close to the ground and made a flute of it. The sound of the
flute was surpassingly sweet and the Dome used to play on it every day.
One day he was playing on it at a friend’s house and a Santal
heard it and was so taken by its sweet tone that he came at night and
stole it.

Having got possession of it he used to play on it constantly and
always keep it by him. Every night the flute became a woman and the
Santal found her in his house without knowing where she came from and
used to spend the night talking to her but towards morning she used to
go outside the house on some pretext and disappear. But one night as
she was about to depart the Santal seized her and forced her to stay
with him. Then she retained her human form but the [391]flute was never seen afterwards; so they called
the girl the Flute girl and she and the Santal were betrothed and soon
afterwards married.

[Contents]

CLVI. Baijal and the Bonga.

Once upon a time there was a young man named Baijal and he was very
skilful at playing on the bamboo flute. He played so sweetly that a
bonga girl who heard him fell deeply in love with him and one
day when Baijal was alone in the jungle she took the form of a pretty
girl and pretended that she had come to the jungle to gather leaves.
The two met and acquaintance soon became love and the two used to meet
each other every day in the jungle. One day the bonga girl asked
Baijal to come home with her; so they went to a pool of water and waded
into it but when the water had risen to the calf of his leg Baijal
suddenly found himself on a broad dry road which led to his
mistress’s house. When they reached it the bonga girl introduced
Baijal to her father and brothers as her husband and told him not to be
afraid of anything he saw; but he could not help feeling frightened,
for the stools on which they sat were coiled-up snakes and the house
dogs were tigers and leopards.

After he had been there three of four day his brothers-in-law one
morning asked him to come out hunting pea fowl. He readily agreed and
they all set out together. The Bongas asked Baijal to lead the dog but
as the dog was a tiger he begged to be excused until they reached the
jungle. So they hunted through the hills and valleys until they came to
a clearing in which there was a man chopping up a tree. Then the
bongas called to Baijal “There is a peacock feeding; take
the dog; throw a stick and knock the bird over and then loose the dog
at it.” Baijal pretended not to understand and said that
[392]he could see no peacock; then they told him
plainly that the man chopping the log was their game. Then he saw that
he was meant to kill the man and not only so, but that he would have to
eat the flesh afterwards. However he was afraid to refuse, so he took
the tiger in the leash and went towards the clearing but instead of
first throwing his stick at the man he merely let the tiger loose and
cheered it on. The wood cutter heard the shout and looking round saw
the tiger; grasping his axe he ran to meet it and as the animal sprang
on him he smote it on the head and killed it. Then Baijal went back and
told his brothers-in-law that the peacock had pecked their hound to
death. They were very angry with him for not throwing his stick first
but he explained that he thought that such a big dog as theirs would
not need any help.

Two or three days later Baijal told his bonga wife to come
home with him, so they set off with a bundle of provisions for the
journey. When they had passed out through the pool Baijal opened the
bundle to have something to eat but found that the bread had turned
into cowdung fuel cakes; and the parched rice into meral leaves;
so he threw them all away. However he would not give up the
bonga girl and they used to meet daily and in the course of time
two children were born to them. Whenever there was a dance in the
village the bonga girl used to come to it. She would leave the
two children on Baijal’s bed and spend the whole night dancing
with the other women of the village.

The time came when Baijal’s parents arranged for his marriage,
for they knew nothing of his bonga wife; and before the marriage
the bonga made him promise that if he had a daughter he would
name the child after her. Even when he was married he did not give up
his bonga wife and used to meet her as before. One night she
came with her children to a dance and after [393]dancing some time said that she was tired and
would go away; Baijal urged her not to go but to come with her children
and live in his house along with his other wife. She would not agree
and he tried to force her and shut the door of the house; but she and
her children rose to the roof in a flash of light and disappeared over
the top of the house wall and passed away from the village in a flame
of fire. At this Baijal was so frightened that from that time he gave
her up and never went near her again.

By and bye his wife bore him a daughter but they did not name the
child after the bonga and the consequence was that it soon pined
away and died. Two or three more were born but they also all died young
because he had not named them after the bonga. At last he did
give a daughter the right name and from that time his children
lived.

[Contents]

CLVII. Ramai and the Bonga.

Once a bonga1 haunted the house of a certain
man and became such a nuisance that the man had him exorcised and
safely pegged down to the ground; and they fenced in the place where
the bonga lay with thorns and put a large stone on the top of
him. Just at the place was a clump of “Kite’s claws”
bushes and one day when the berries on the bushes were ripe, a certain
cowherd named Ramai went to pick them and when he came round to the
stone which covered the bonga he stood on it to pick the fruit
and the bonga called out to him to get off the stone; Ramai
looked about and seeing no one said “Who is that speaking?”
and the voice said “I am buried under the stone; if you will take
it off me I will give you whatever boon you ask”; Ramai said that
he was afraid that the bonga [394]would eat him but the
bonga swore to do him no harm, so he lifted up the stone and the
bonga came out and thanking Ramai told him to ask a boon.

Ramai asked for the power to see bongas and to understand the
language of ants. “I will give you the power,” said the
bonga, “but you must tell no one about it, not even your
wife; if you do you will lose the power and in that case you must not
blame me,” Then the bonga blew into his ear and he heard
the speech of ants; and the bonga scratched the film of his eye
balls with a thorn and he saw the bongas: and there were crowds
of them living in villages like men. In December when we thresh the
rice the bongas carry off half of it; but Ramai could see them
and would drive them away and so was able to save his rice.

Once a young fellow of his own age was very ill; and his friends
blew into his ears and partially brought him to his senses and he asked
them to send for Ramai; so they called Ramai and he had just been
milking his cows and came with the tethering rope in his hand; and when
he entered the room he saw a bonga sitting on the sick
man’s chest and twisting his neck; so he flogged it with the rope
till it ran away and he pursued it until it threw itself into a pool of
water; and then the sick man recovered.

But Ramai soon lost his useful power; one day as he was eating his
dinner he dropped some grains of rice and two ants fell to quarrelling
over one grain and Ramai heard them abusing each other and was so
amused that he laughed out loud.

His wife asked why he laughed and he said at nothing in particular,
but she insisted on knowing and he said that it was at some scandal he
had heard in the village; but she would not believe him and worried him
until he told her that it was at the quarrel of the ants. Then she made
him tell her how he gained the power to [395]understand what they
said: but from that moment he lost the powers which the bonga
had conferred on him.

[Contents]

CLVIII. The Boundary Bonga.

There was once a man who owned a rich swampy rice field. Every year
he used to sacrifice a pig to the boundary bonga before harvest;
but nevertheless the bonga always reaped part of the crop. One
year when the rice was ripening the man used to go and look at it every
day. One evening after dusk as he was sitting quietly at the edge of
the field he overheard the bonga and his wife talking. The
bonga said that he was going to pay a visit to some friends but
his wife begged him not to go because the rice was ripe and the farmer
would be cutting it almost at once. However the bonga would not
listen to her advice and set off on his journey.

The farmer saw that there was no time to be lost and the very next
day he sacrificed the usual pig and reaped the whole of the crop. That
evening when work was over he stayed and listened to hear whether the
bonga had come back, but all was quiet. The next day he threshed
the paddy and instead of twenty bushels as usual he found that he had
got sixty bushels of rice, That evening he again went to the field and
this time he found that the bonga had returned and was having a
fine scolding from his wife, because he had let the farmer reap the
whole crop. “Take your silly pig and your silly plate of flour
from the sacrifice,” screamed the bonga’s wife,
throwing them at her spouse, “that is all you have got; this is
all because you would go away when I told you not to do it; how could I
reap the crop with the children to look after? If you had stayed we
might have got five bandis of rice from that field.”
[396]

[Contents]

CLIX. The Bonga Exorcised.

A very poor man was once ploughing his field and as he ploughed the
share caught fast in something. At first he thought that it was a root
and tried to divide it with his axe; but as he could not cut it he
looked closer and found that it was a copper chain. He followed the
chain along and at either end he found a brass pot full of rupees.
Delighted with his luck he wrapped the pots in his cloth and hurried
home. Then he and his wife counted the money and buried it under the
floor of their house.

From that time the man began to prosper; his crops were always good;
and his cattle increased and multiplied; he had many children and they
grew up strong and healthy and were married and had children of their
own.

But after many years luck changed. The family was constantly ill and
every year a child died. The jan guru who was consulted declared
that a Kisar bonga was responsible for their misfortunes. He
told the sons how their father had found the money in the ground and
said that the bonga to whom the money belonged was responsible
for their misfortunes and was named Mainomati.

He told them how to get rid of the bonga. They were to dig up
the buried money and place it in bags; and load it on the back of a
young heifer; and take five brass nails and four copper nails, and two
rams. If the bonga was willing to leave the house the heifer
would walk away to another village directly the bags were placed on its
back; but if the bonga would not go the heifer would not
move.

So they did as the Janguru advised and when the bags were
placed on the heifer it walked away to a large peepul tree growing on
the banks of a stream in [397]another village and there it
stopped. Then they sacrificed the rams and uttering vows over the nails
drove them into the peepul tree and went home, turning the heifer
loose. From that time their troubles ceased.

But that evening a man driving his cattle home saw a young woman
nailed to the peepul tree; and not knowing that she was a bonga
he released her and took her home and married her. [399]


1 Kisar
bonga = brownie.

[Contents]

Part V.

The legends and customary beliefs contained in this part are
definitely connected with the Santals. [401]

[Contents]

CLX. The Beginning of Things.

In the days of old, Thakur Baba had made everything very convenient
for mankind and it was by our own fault that we made Thakur Baba angry
so that he swore that we must spend labour in making things ready for
use.

This is the story that I have heard.

When the Santals lived in Champa and the Kiskus were their kings,
the Santals were very simple and religious and only worshipped Thakur.
In those days the rice grew ready husked, and the cotton bushes bore
cloth all ready woven and men did not have to pick the lice out of each
others’ hair; men’s skulls grew loose and each man could
lift off his own skull and clean it and then replace it. But all this
was spoilt by the misdeeds of a serving girl of one of the Rajas. When
she went into the field for purposes of nature she would at the same
time pick and eat the rice that grew by her; and when she had made her
hands dirty cleaning out a cow house she would wipe them on the cloth
which she was wearing. Angered by these dirty habits Thakur Baba
deprived men of the benefits which he had conferred upon them and the
rice began to grow in a husk and the cotton plants only produced raw
cotton and men’s skulls became fixed so that they could not be
removed.

In those old days too the sky was quite close to the earth and
Thakur Baba used to come and visit men in their houses. So it was a
saying among our forefathers “Do, not throw your dirty leaf
plates near the front or back door and do not let your brass plates and
dishes [402]remain unwashed at night; for if Thakur Baba
come along and see them so, he will not come into the house but will be
angry and curse us.” But one day a woman after finishing her meal
threw the used leaf plate out of the door, and a gust of wind carried
it up to the sky; this displeased Thakur Baba and he resolved no longer
to dwell in the neighbourhood of men as they were so ill-mannered as to
throw their dirty leaf plates at him and so he lifted the sky to its
present height above the earth.

To this day men who have heard of this scold those who throw their
refuse into the street and bid them heap it up in some out-of-the-way
place.

The misdeeds of men at length made Thakur Baba so angry that he
resolved to destroy them all. Now Thakur Baba is Sing Chando or the
Sun, and the Moon is his wife: and at first there were as many stars by
day as there are by night and they were all the children of the Sun and
Moon who had divided them between them. So Sing Chando having resolved
to destroy mankind blazed with a fierce heat till man and beast writhed
under the torture of it. But when the Moon looked down and saw their
sufferings she was filled with pity and thought how desolate the earth
would be without a living being on it. So she hastened to Sing Chando
and prayed him not to desolate the earth; but for all her beseeching
the utmost that she could obtain was a promise from her Lord that he
would spare one or two human beings to be the seed of a future race. So
Sing Chando chose out a young man and a young woman and bade them go
into a cave in a hill side and close the mouth of the cave with a raw
hide and when they were safely inside he rained fire from heaven and
killed every other living being on the earth.

Five days and five nights it rained fire and the man and woman in
the cave sang—(to the Baha tune) [403]

“Five days and five nights the fire will rain,
ho!

Five days and five nights, all night long, ho!

Where will you two human beings stay?

Where will you two take shelter?

There is a hide, a hide:

There is also a hill:

There is also a cave in the rock!

There will we two stay:

There will we two take shelter.”

When they came out of the cave the first thing they saw was a cow
lying burnt to death with a karke tree fallen on the top of it
and near it was lying a buffalo cow burnt to death; at the sight they
sang:—

“The cow is glowing cinders, glowing cinders:

The karke tree is burnt:

The buffalo cow has fallen and has been burnt

to ashes, to ashes.”

And as they went on, they sang a similar lament over the remains of
each living being as they saw it.

Although these two had been spared to raise up a new race, Ninda
Chando, the Moon, feared that the Sun would again get angry with the
new race and destroy it; and so she made a plan to trick him. She
covered up all her children with a large basket and smeared her mouth
and lips with red and going to Sing Chando told him that she had eaten
up every one of her children and proposed that he should now eat up
his. At first Sing Chando declined to believe her but she pointed to
her lips and said that they were red with the blood of the children; so
Sing Chando was convinced and agreed to eat up his children except two
whom he would keep to play with. So they devoured all but two and the
two that were saved are the morning and evening stars.

Thus Sing Chando was deprived of the power to again burn up the
earth; but when that night Ninda Chando let out her own children from
under the basket she warned them to beware of the wrath of their father
[404]when he found out the trick that had been played
him. When Sing Chando saw Ninda Chando’s children still alive he
flew to her in a passion and the children at the sight of him scattered
in all directions and that is why the stars are now spread all over the
sky; at first they were all in one place. Although the stars escaped,
Sing Chando could not restrain his wrath and cut Ninda Chando in two
and that is why the Moon waxes and wanes; at first she was always full
like the sun.

Some men say that the man and woman whom Thakur hid in the cave were
Pilchu Haram and Pilchu Budhi and they had twelve sons and twelve
daughters and mankind is descended from them and has increased and
filled the earth; and that it was in that country that we were divided
into twelve different races according to the food which our progenitors
chose at a feast.

[Contents]

CLXI. Chando and His Wife.

Once upon a time Chando went to the hills to fashion a plough out of
a log of wood; and his wife was left at home alone, Chando was so long
in coming back that his wife grew impatient; so she made some mosquitos
and sent them to worry him and drive him home. But Chando made some
dragon-flies and they ate up the mosquitos and he went on with his
work. His wife made various other animals and sent them out, but Chando
destroyed them all. At last she made a tiger and sent it to frighten
him home; but Chando took up a handful of chips from the log he was
cutting and threw them at the tiger and they turned into wild dogs and
chased the tiger away. Ever since that no tiger will face wild
dogs.

Then Chando’s wife shut up a locust in an iron pot and when
Chando at last came home she asked him “Why have you been so
long? Who is to give food [405]and drink to all the living
creatures if you don’t attend to business.” Chando answered
that he had fed them all.

“No you have not, you have not fed the locust!”

“But I have” said Chando.

Then she took the lid off the iron pot and showed him the locust
eating grass inside; and Chando had nothing to say.

[Contents]

CLXII. The Sikhar Raja.

Santals say that the Sikhar Raja was a bonga and this is the
story they tell about him. A certain woman was with child but could not
say by whom she was pregnant so she fled into the jungle and at the
foot of a clump of bamboos gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl; and
then went home leaving the children lying in the jungle. The children
lay there crying very pitifully. Now a herd of wild bison was grazing
in the jungle and they heard the crying and one of the cows went to see
what was the matter and took pity on the children and suckled them.
Every day she came three times and fed them; and under her care the
children grew up strong and healthy. If any man came to hunt in the
jungle the bison-cow used to attack him and drive him away; she used to
bring the bows and arrows which the hunters threw away in their flight
to the boy that he might learn how to shoot. And when any basket makers
passed by the jungle on their way to market to sell their wares she
used to charge out at them and then bring to the girl the winnowing
fans and baskets they threw down in their fright, so that she might
learn to sift rice.

Thus the children prospered; and the boy was named Harichand and he
and his sister looked like gods. When they grew up they married each
other and then the bison-cow left them. Then Thakur sent from heaven
sixteen [406]hundred gopinis and the gopinis
said that Harichand and his wife should be king and queen in that land
of Sikhar. Then they took counsel together as to where the royal fort
should be. Three scribes sat down to study the books with Harichand and
his wife in their midst; on the right sat the scribe Hikim, and on the
left the scribe Bhuja and the scribe Jaganath opened the book to see
where the fort should be; and all the gopinis sat round in a circle and
sang while the book was read.

“Raja Harichand of the Sikhar stock, of
Jhalamala,

Where is his abode!

Raja Harichand of the Sikhar stock, of Jhalamala,

In the bamboo clump is his abode!”

“Raja Harichand of the Sikhar stock of
Jhalamala

In the banyan-tree field in his abode!

Raja Harichand, of the Sikhar stock, of Jhalamala,

In the brinjal corner is his
abode.”

And they found in the book that the fort should be in Pachet hill;
then they sang in triumph:—

“It will not do, O Raja, to build a fort
here:

We will leave Paras and build a fort on Pachet
hill:

There in the happy Brinda forest.”

Then they brought the Raja and Rani from the jungle to Pachet and on
the top of the Pachet hill a stone fort sprang up for them; and all the
country of Sikhar acknowledged their sway. After that the Santals made
their way from Champa and dwelt in Sikhar and cleared all the jungle in
it and abode there many years. They called the Sikhar Raja a
bonga because no one knew his father or mother. Under Raja
Harichand the Santals were very contented and happy, and when he
celebrated the Chatar festival they used to sing this song, because
they were so contented:—

“Harichand Raja was born of a bison-cow,

Sirguja Rana was born of a snake.”

[407]

[Contents]

CLXIII. The Origin of Tobacco.

This is the way that the chewing tobacco began. There was once a
Brahmin girl whose relations did not give her in marriage and she died
unmarried. After the body had been burned and the people had gone home,
Chandu thought “Alas, I sent this woman into the world and she
found favour with no one; well, I will confer a gift on her which will
make men ask for her every day,” So he sowed tobacco at the
burning place and it grew up and flourished. And there was a boy of the
cowherd caste who used to graze his cattle about that place; he saw his
goats greedily eating the tobacco leaf and he wondered what the leaf
was and tasted a bit but finding it bitter he spat it out. Some time
after however he had tooth-ache and having tried many remedies in vain
he bethought himself of the bitter tobacco and he chewed some of that
and kept it in his mouth and found that it cured the tooth-ache; from
that time he formed the habit of chewing it. One day he saw some burnt
bones or lime and he picked up the powder and rubbed it between his
fingers to see what it was and after doing so he ate some tobacco and
found that the taste was improved, so from that time he always chewed
lime with the tobacco. He recommended the leaf to other men who had
tooth-ache and they formed the habit of chewing it too and called it
tobacco; and then men who had no tooth-ache took to it; and acquired a
craving for it. This is the way tobacco chewing began, as our
forefathers say.

[Contents]

CLXIV. The Transmigration of Souls.

All the cats of Hindus have believed and believe, and the Santals
also have said and say, that Thakur [408]made the land and sky
and sea and man and animals and insects and fish and the creation was
complete and final: he made their kinds and castes once for all and did
not alter them afterwards; and he fixed the time of growth and of
dwelling in the body; and for the flowers to seed and he made at that
time as many souls as was necessary and the same souls go on being
incarnated sometimes in a human body and sometimes in the body of an
animal; and so it is that many human beings really have the souls of
animals; if a man has a man’s soul he is of a gentle disposition;
but if he gets the soul of a dog or cat then he is bad tempered and
ready to quarrel with everyone; and the man with a frog’s soul is
silent and sulky and those who get tiger’s souls when they start
a quarrel never give up till they gain their point. There is a story
which proves all this.

There was once a Brahman who had two wives and as he knew something
of herbs and simples he used to leave his wives at home and go about
the country as a quack doctor; but whenever he came home his two wives
used to scold him and find fault with him for no reason at all till
they made his life a burden. So he resolved to leave two such shrews
and one day when they had been scolding as usual he put on the garb of
a jogi and in spite of their protests went out into the
world.

After journeying two or three days he came to a town in which a
pestilence was raging and he sat down to rest under a tree on the
outskirts. There he noticed that many corpses had been thrown out and
he saw two vultures fly down to feed on the bodies; and the he-vulture
said to his mate “Which corpse shall we eat first?” Now the
Brahman somehow understood the language of the birds—but the mate
returned no answer though the he-vulture kept on repeating the
question; at last she said “Don’t you see there is a man
sitting at the foot of the tree?” Then they both approached
[409]the Brahman and asked why he was sitting in such
a place and whether he was in distress; he told them that trouble had
driven him from his home and that he was wandering about the world as
chance led him, because the continual quarrelling of his two wives was
more than he could bear. The vultures said “We will give you a
means by which you may see your wives as they really are” and one
of them pulled out a wing feather and told him when he went to any
house begging to stick it behind his ear and then he would see what the
people were really like; and they advised him to marry a woman who gave
him alms with her hands. Then he got up and went away with the feather,
leaving the birds to prey on the corpses.

When the Brahman came to a village to beg he saw by the aid of the
feather, that some of the people were really cats and some were dogs
and other animals and when they gave him alms they brought it in their
teeth; then he made up his mind to go home and see what his wives
really were; and he found that one was a bitch and one was a sow; and
when they brought him water they carried the cup in their months; at
this sight he left the house again in disgust, determined to marry any
woman who offered him alms with her hands.

He wandered for days till at last the daughter of a Chamar, when he
begged, brought him alms in her hands; and he at once determined to
stay there and marry her at all costs; so he sat down and when the
Chamar asked why he did not go away he said that he meant to marry the
girl who had given him alms and live in his house as his son-in-law;
the Chamar did all he could to remonstrate at such an extraordinary
proposal as that a Brahman should destroy his caste by marrying a
Chamar; the Brahman said that they might do what they liked to him but
that he would not leave till he obtained his bride. So at last the
[410]Chamar called in his castefellows and relations
to advise him whether he would be guilty of any sin in yielding to the
proposal of the Brahman; and they called into council the principal
villagers of all the other castes and after fully questioning the
Chamar and the Brahman the judgment of the villagers was that the
marriage should take place and they would take the responsibility. Then
the Brahman was made to give a full account of himself and where he had
come from, and when this was found to be true, the bride price was
fixed and paid and the marriage took place and the Brahman became a
Chamar.

[Contents]

CLXV. The Next World.

This is what the Santals say about the next world. After death men
have a very hard time of it in the next world. Chando bonga
makes them work terribly hard; the woman have to pound the fruit of the
castor oil plant with a pestle; and from the seeds Chando bonga makes
human beings. All day long they have to work; those women who have
babies get a little respite on the excuse of suckling their babies; but
those who have no children get no rest at all; and the men are allowed
to break off to chew tobacco but those who have not learnt to chew have
to work without stopping from morning to night. And this is the reason
why Santals learn to chew tobacco when they are alive; for it is of no
use to merely smoke a huka: in the next world we shall not be
allowed to knock off work in order to smoke. In the next world also it
is very difficult to get water to drink. There are frogs who stand on
guard and drive away any who comes to the water to drink; and so when
Santals
die we send drinking vessels with them so that they may be able to run
quickly to the water and fill the vessels and get away [411]before they are stopped. And it is said that if
a man during his lifetime has planted a peepul tree he gets abused for
it in the next world and is told to go and pick the leaves out of the
water which have fallen into it and are spoiling it and such a man is
able to get water to drink while he is picking the leaves out of it;
but whether this is all true I cannot say.

[Contents]

CLXVI. After Death.

When grown-up people die they become ancestral bongas and
sacrifices are offered to them at the Flower and Sohrai festivals; and
when children die they become bhuts. When a pregnant woman dies,
they drive long thorns into the soles of the feet before the body is
burned for such women become churins. The reason of this is that
when the churin pursues any one the thorns may hurt her and
prevent her from running fast: and so the man who is pursued may
escape; for if the churin catches him she will lick all the
flesh off his bones; they especially attack the belly and their tongues
are very rough.

There was once a man who had been to get his ploughshare sharpened
by the blacksmith and as he was on his way home it came on to rain, so
he took shelter in a hollow tree. While he was waiting for the weather
to clear he saw a churin coming along singing and she also came
to take shelter in the same tree. Fortunately she pushed in backwards
and the man took the ploughshare which was still nearly red hot and
pressed it against her back; so she ran away screaming and he made good
his escape in the other direction; otherwise he would assuredly have
been licked to death. [412]

[Contents]

CLXVII. Hares and Men.

In former days hares used to eat men and a man presented himself
before Thakur and said “O Father, these hares do us much damage;
they are little animals and hide under leaves and then spring out and
eat us; big animals we can see coming and can save ourselves. Have pity
on us and deliver us from these little animals,” So Thakur
summoned the chief of the hares and fixed a day for hearing the case;
and when the man and the hare appeared he asked the hare whether they
ate men and the hare denied it and asserted on the contrary that men
ate hares; but the man when questioned denied that men killed hares.
Then Thakur said “O hare and man, I have questioned you both and
you give contradictory answers; and neither admits the charge; the
matter shall be decided in this way; you, hare, shall watch a
Kita tree and if within a year you see a leaf fall from the tree
you shall be allowed to eat men; and you, man, shall watch a
Korkot tree and if you see a leaf fall, then men shall be
allowed to eat hares. Begin your watch to-day and this day next year
bring me your leaves.” So the man and the hare departed and each
sat under a tree to see a leaf fall but they watched and watched in
vain until on the last day of the year a korkot leaf fell and
the man joyfully picked it up and took it to Thakur; and the hare
failing to see a leaf fall bit off a leaf with its teeth and took it to
Thakur. Then Thakur examined the two leaves and said to the hare,
“This leaf did not fall of itself; see, the tip of the stalk is
quite different from the stalk of the leaf this man has brought; you
bit it off.” And the hare was silent Then Thakur rubbed the legs
of the hare with a ball of cleaned cotton and passed this sentence on
him, that thenceforward he [413]should skip about like a leaf
blown by the wind and that men should hunt hares wherever they found
them and kill and eat them, entrails and all.

And this is the reason why Santals do not clean the hares they kill,
but eat them entrails and all.

[Contents]

CLXVIII. A Legend.

Once upon a time a woman was found to be with child by her own
brother, so the two had to fly the country. In their flight they came
to the Mustard Tank and Flower Lake, on the banks of which they
prepared to cook their food. They boiled water and cooked rice in it;
and then they boiled water to cook pulse to eat with the rice. But when
the water was ready they found that they had forgotten to bring any
pulse. While they were wondering what they could get to eat with their
rice they saw a man of the fisher caste (Keot) coming along with his
net on his shoulder. Then the woman sang—

“The son of a Keot is standing on the bank of the
tank:

The fish are jumping: the son of a Keot is catching the
fish.”

So the Keot caught them some fish, which they ate with their
rice.

Then they went on and by the side of the road they saw a date palm
the juice of which had been tapped; and they wished to drink the juice
but they found that they had brought no drinking vessel with them. The
woman looked about and saw near by a fan palm tree and she
sang—

“The peepul’s leaves go flicker,
flicker:

The banyan’s leaves are thick and fleshy:

Of the fan palm’s leaf, brother, make a cup.

And we will drink the juice of the date
palm.”

So her brother made a drinking vessel of a palm leaf and they drank
the date juice and went on their way. [414]At nightfall they
rested at the foot of a Bael tree and fell into a drunken sleep from
the date juice they had drunk.

As the woman lay senseless her child was born to her and no sooner
was the child born than a bael fruit fell on to its head and split it
into four pieces which flew apart and became four hills. From falling
on the new-born child the bael fruit has ever since had a sticky juice
and the tree is covered with thorns which are the hair of the child. In
the morning the man and woman went on and came to a forest of
Tarop trees and the woman wiped her bloody hands on the
Tarop trees and so the Tarop tree ever since exudes a red
juice like blood.

Next morning they went on and came to a spring and drank of its
water and afterwards the woman bathed in it and the blood stained water
flowed over all the country and so we see stagnant water covered with a
red scum. Going on from there they reached a low lying flat and halted;
almost at once they saw a thunder storm coming up from the South and
West; and the woman sang—

“A storm as black as the so fruit,
brother,

Is coming, full of danger for us:

Come let us flee to the homestead of the liquor
seller.”

But the brother answered—

“The liquor seller’s house is an evil
house:

You only wish to go there for mischief.”

So they stayed where they were and the lightning came and slew them
both.

[Contents]

CLXIX. Pregnant Women.

Pregnant women are not allowed to go about alone outside the
village; for there are bongas everywhere [415]and
some of them dislike the sight of pregnant women and kill them or cause
the child to be born wry-necked.

A pregnant woman may not make a mud fireplace for if she does her
child will be born with a hare-lip; nor may she chop vegetables during
an eclipse or the same result will follow. She may not ride in a cart,
for if she does the child will be always crying and will snore in its
sleep; if she eats the flesh of field rats the child’s body will
be covered with hair and if she eats duck or goose flesh the child will
be born with its fingers and toes webbed. Nor may a pregnant woman look
on a funeral, for if she does her child will always sleep with its eyes
half open.

[Contents]

CLXX. The Influence of the Moon.

If a child is born on the day before the new moon the following
ceremony is observed. After bathing the child they place an old broom
in the mother’s arms instead of the child; then the mother takes
the child and throws it out on the dung heap behind the house. The
midwife then takes an old broom and an old winnowing fan and sweeps up
a little rubbish on to the fan and takes it and throws it on the dung
hill; there she sees the child and calls out. “Here is a child on
the dung heap” then she pretends to sweep the child with the
broom into the winnowing fan and lifts it up and carries it into the
house; and asks the people of the house whether they will rear it. They
ask what wages she will give them and she promises to give them a
heifer when the child is grown up.

If this is not done the child will be unlucky when it grows up; if
it is a boy, however often he may marry, his wife will die and so, if
it is a girl, her husbands will die.

Another fact is that they always shave a child’s head
[416]for the first two times during the same moon; if
it is shaved first during one moon and then during the following moon;
it will always have a headache once a month.

Similarly when they tie the knots in a string to fix the date of a
wedding the wedding must take place in the lunar month in which the
knots are tied or else the children born of the marriage will die.

[Contents]

CLXXI. Illegitimate Children.

If a woman has an illegitimate child and from fear or shame will not
name its father the bastard is called a child of Chando. At its birth
there is no assembly of the neighbours; its head is not ceremonially
shaved and there is no narta ceremony. The midwife does what is
necessary; and the child is admitted into no division of the tribe. If
it is a boy it is called Chandu or Chandrai or sometimes Birbanta and
if a girl Chandro or Chandmuni or perhaps Bonela. Sometimes after the
child is born the mother will under seal of secrecy tell its
father’s name to her mother or the midwife; and then between
themselves they will call the child by a name taken from the
father’s family but they will never tell it to anyone else. When
the child grows up he is given some nickname and if he turns out well
and is popular his name is often changed again and he is recognised as
a Santal.

Often if a father will not acknowledge a child the mother will
strangle it at birth and bury the body. Men who practise sorcery dig up
the bones of such murdered infants and use them as rattles when doing
their sorceries and are helped by them to deceive people.

[Contents]

CLXXII. The Dead.

Santals are very much afraid of burial grounds; for dead men become
bongas and bongas eat men. If a [417]man
meet such a bonga in a burial ground it is of little use to
fight for the bonga keeps on changing his shape. He may first
appear as a man and then change into a leopard or a bear or a pig or a
cat: very few escape when attacked by such a being.

It is said that the spirits of young children become bhuts
and those of grown-up people bongas and those of pregnant women
churins.

[Contents]

CLXXIII. Hunting Custom.

Formerly when the men went to a hunt the mistress of the house would
not bathe all the time they were away and when the hunters returned she
met them at the front door and washed their feet and welcomed them
home. The wife of the dehri used to put a dish of water under
her bed at night and if the water turned red like blood they believed
that it was a sign that game had been killed. [419]

[Contents]

Part VI.

The belief in witchcraft is very real to the present day among the
Santals. All untimely deaths and illness which does not yield to
treatment are attributed to the machinations of witches, and women are
not unfrequently murdered in revenge for deaths which they are supposed
to have caused, or to prevent the continuance of illness for which they
are believed to be responsible.

The Santal writer in spite of his education is a firm believer in
witchcraft, and details his own experiences. He has justification for
his belief, for as was the case in Mediaeval Europe, women sometimes
plead guilty to having caused death by witchcraft when there appears to
be no adequate motive for a confession, which must involve them in the
severest penalties.

Mr. Bodding is aware that Santal women do actually hold meetings at
night at which mantras and songs are repeated, and at which they may
believe they acquire uncanny powers; the exercise of such powers may
also on occasion be assisted by the knowledge of vegetable poisons.

The witch may either herself cause death by eating, or eating
the liver of, her victim, or may cause her familiar “bonga”
to attack the unfortunate. That witches eat the liver is an old idea in
India mentioned by the Mughal historians.

The Jan guru is employed to detect who is the woman responsible for
any particular misfortune. His usual method is to gaze on a leaf
smeared with oil, in which as in a crystal he can doubtless imagine
that shapes present themselves. The witch having been detected, she is
liable to be beaten and maltreated until she withdraws her spells, and
if this does not lead to the desired result she may be put to death.
[421]

[Contents]

CLXXIV. Witchcraft.

The higher castes do not believe in witchcraft. If a man is ill they
give him medicines and if he dies in spite of the medicine they do
nothing further. But all the lower castes believe in witchcraft and
know that it is a reality. The Santal women learnt the craft first from
Marang Burn by playing a trick on him when he meant to teach their
husbands. And now they take quite little girls out by night and teach
them so that the craft may not die out.

We know of many cases to prove that witchcraft is a reality. Pirthi
who lives in Pankha’s house was once ill: and it was an aunt of
his who was “eating” him. One night as he lay ill the witch
came and bent over him to take out his liver: but he woke up just in
time and saw her and catching her by the hair he shouted for the people
in the house. They and the villagers came and took the woman into
custody. When the Pargana questioned her she confessed everything and
was punished.

Another time a boy lay ill and senseless. A cowherd who was driving
cattle home at evening ran to the back of the house where the sick boy
lay, after a cow which strayed there. There he found a woman in a state
of possession (rūm) he told the villagers what he had seen and
they caught the woman and gave her a severe beating: whereupon the sick
boy recovered. But about two months afterwards the cowherd suddenly
fell down dead: and when they consulted a jān as to the
reason he said that it was the witch who had been beaten who had done
it. [422]

[Contents]

CLXXV. Of Dains and Ojhas.

Once upon a time Marang Buru decided that he would teach men
witchcraft. In those days there was a place at which men used to
assemble to meet Marang Buru and hold council with him: but they only
heard his voice and never saw his face. One day at the assembly when
they had begun to tell Marang Buru of their troubles he fixed a day and
told them to come to him on it, dressed all in their cleanest clothes
and he would teach them witchcraft.

So the men all went home and told their wives to wash their clothes
well against the fixed day, as they were going to Thakur to learn
witchcraft. The women of course all began to discuss this new plan
among themselves and the more they talked of it the less they liked it;
it seemed to them that if the men were to get this new strange power it
would make them more inclined to despise and bully women than ever; so
they made a plot to get the better of their husbands. They arranged
that each woman should brew some rice beer and offer it to her husband
as he was starting to meet Marang Buru and beg him to drink some lest
his return should be delayed. They foresaw that the men would not be
able to resist the drink; and that having started they would go on till
they were dead drunk: it would then be easy for the women to dress
themselves like men and go off to Marang Buru and learn witchcraft in
place of their husbands. So said, so done;—the women duly made
their husbands drunk and then put on pagris and dhoties
and stuck goats’ beards on their faces and went off to Marang
Buru to learn witchcraft. Marang Buru did not detect the imposition and
according to his promise taught them all the incantations of
witchcraft.

After the women had come home with their new [423]knowledge their husbands gradually recovered
their senses and bethought them of their appointment with Marang Buru.
So they hurried off to the meeting place and asked him to teach them
what he had promised. “Why, I taught it all to you this
morning,” answered Marang Buru, “what do you mean by coming
to me again?” The men could not understand what he meant and
protested that they had not been to him at all in the morning.
“Then you must have told your wives what I was going to
do!” This they could not deny: “I see,” said Marang
Buru “then they must have played a trick on you and learnt the
mantras in your place,” At this the men began to lament
and begged that they might be taught also: but Marang Buru said that
this was impossible; he could only teach them a very little; their
wives had reaped the crop and they could only have the gleanings; so
saying, he taught them the art of the ojha and in order that
they might have the advantage of their wives in one respect and be able
to overawe them he also taught them the craft of the jān
and with that they had to be content. This is why only women are
witches.

[Contents]

CLXXVI. Initiation into Witchcraft.

When girls are initiated into witchcraft they are taken away by
force and made to lead tigers about. This makes them fearless. They are
then taken to all the most powerful bongas in succession; and
are taught to invoke them, as school boys are taught lessons, and to
become possessed (rum). They are also taught mantras and
songs and by degrees they cease to be afraid. The novice is made to
come out of the house with a lamp in her hand and a broom tied round
her waist; she is then conducted to the great bongas one of whom
approves of her and when all have agreed she is married to that
[424]bonga. The bonga pays the usual
brideprice and applies sindur to her forehead. After this she
can also marry a man in the usual way and he also pays the bride price.
When a girl has learnt everything she is made to take her degree
(sid atang) by taking out a man’s liver and cooking it
with rice in a new pot; then she and the young woman who is initiating
her, eat the feast together; a woman who has once eaten such a stew is
completely proficient and can never forget what she has learnt.

This is the way in which girls learn witchcraft; and if any girl
refuses to take the final step and will not eat men she is caused to go
mad or die. Those however who have once eaten men have a craving for
it.

Generally it is only women who are witches; but there are men who
have learnt witchcraft and there are others who without being initiated
have kept company with witches. For instance in Simra village there is
Chortha who was once a servant of the Parganna. He says that the
Parganna’s wife used to take him out with her at night. The women
used to sacrifice fowls and goats and make him skin them and cut them
up: he had then to roast cakes of the flesh and give them to the
Parganna’s wife who distributed them among the other women.

Sometimes also witches take a man with them to their meetings to
beat the drum: and sometimes if a man is very much in love with a girl
he is allowed to go with them and is taught witchcraft. For instance
there was a man who had a family of daughters and no son and so he
engaged a man servant by the year to work for him.

After being some years in service this man servant one night was for
some reason unusually late in letting the buffaloes out to graze, and
while doing so he saw all the women of the household assembled out of
doors; they came up to him and told him not to be afraid and
[425]promised to do him no harm provided he told no
one what he had seen. Two or three days later the young women of the
house invited him to go to a witches’ meeting. He went but felt
rather frightened the whole time; however nothing happened to him, so
he got over his fear and after that he used to go with them quite
willingly and learnt all about witchcraft. At last they told him that
he must sid atang by “eating” a human being. He
objected that he was an orphan and so there was no relation whom he
could eat. This was a difficulty that seemed insurmountable; and he
suggested that he should be excused the full course and taught only a
little such as how to “eat” fowls. The women agreed but it
was arranged that to deceive people he should go for two or three days
and study with a jan guru and be initiated by him. Thus it would
be thought that he learnt his magic from the guru but really he
learnt it from the witches who taught him everything except how to
“eat” human beings. He learnt how to make trees wither away
and come to life again; and to make rain fall where he wished while any
place he chose remained quite dry; he learnt to walk upon the surface
of water without getting wet; he could exorcise hail so that none would
touch his house though it fell all around. For a joke he could make
stools stick fast to his friends when they sat on them; and anyone he
scolded found himself unable to speak properly. All this we have seen
him do; but it was no one’s business to question him to find out
how much he really knew.

Once at the shield and sword dance they cast a spell on a youth till
his clothes fell off him in shreds and he was ashamed to dance. Then
this servant had the pieces of cloth brought to him; and he covered
them with his own cloth and mumbled some mantras and blew on it
and the pieces joined together and the cloth was as good as ever. This
we have seen ourselves. [426]

He lived a long time with his master who found him a wife; but
because his first child died he left the place and went to live near
Amrahat where he is now.

Another case is Tipu of Mohulpahari. They say that an old witch
Dukkia taught him to be an ojha. No one has dared to ask him
whether he also learnt witchcraft from her but he himself admits that
she taught him to be an ojha.

Although it is true that there are witches and that they
“eat” men you will never see them except when you are
alone.

The son-in-law of Surai of Karmatane village, named Khade, died from
meeting witches; he told us all about it as he lay dying. He was coming
home with some other men: they had all had a little too much to drink
and so they got separated. Khade was coming along alone and had nearly
reached his house when he saw a crowd of witches under a tree. He went
up and asked who they were. Thereupon they turned on him and seized him
and dragged him away towards Maluncha. There they did something to him
and let him go. Next morning he was seized with purging and by mistake
some of the witches’ vengeance fell also on the other men and
they were taken ill too. They however recovered, but Khade died. If you
meet witches you die, but not of course if they take you with them of
their own will and teach you their craft.

[Contents]

CLXXVII. Witchcraft.

Girls are taught witchcraft when they are young and are married to a
bonga husband. Afterwards when they marry a man they still go
away and visit the bonga and when they do so they send in their
place a bonga woman exactly like them in appearance and voice;
so that the husband cannot tell that it is not his real wife. There
[427]is however a way of discovering the
substitution; for if the man takes a brand from the fire and burns the
woman with it, then if it is really a bonga and not his wife she
will fly away in a flame of fire.

[Contents]

CLXXVIII. Witch Stories.

I will now tell you something I have seen with my own eyes. In the
village of Dhubia next to mine the only son of the Paranik lay ill for
a whole year. One day I went out to look at my rahar crop which
was nearly ripe and as I stood under a mowah tree I heard a voice
whispering. I stooped down to try and see through the rahar who
was there but the crop was so thick that I could see nothing; so I
climbed up the mowah tree to look. Glancing towards Dhubia village I
saw the third daughter of the Paranik come out of her house and walk
towards me. When about fifty yards from me she climbed a big rock and
waited. Presently an old aunt of hers came out of the village and
joined her. Then the old woman went back to her house and returned with
a lota of water. Meanwhile the girl had come down from the rock and sat
at its foot near a thicket of dhela trees. The old woman caused
the girl to become possessed (rūm) and they had some
conversation which I could not hear, Then they poured out the water
from the lota and went home.

On my way home I met a young fellow of the village and found that he
had also seen what the two women did. We went together to the place and
found the mark of the water spilled on the ground and two leaves which
had been used as wrappers and one of which was smeared with vermilion
and adwa rice had been scattered about. We decided to tell no
one till we saw whether what had been done was meant to benefit or
injure the sick boy. Fifteen days later the boy died: and when
[428]his parents consulted a jān he named
a young woman of the village as the cause of the boy’s death and
she was taken and punished severely by the villagers.

It is plain that the boy’s sister and aunt in order to save
themselves caused the jān to see an innocent woman. I could
not bring the boy back to life so it was useless for me to say
anything, especially as the guilty women were of the Paranik’s
own family. This I saw myself in broad daylight.

Another thing that happened to me was this. I had been with the
Headman to pay in the village rent. It was night when we returned and
after leaving him I was going home alone. As I passed in front of a
house a bright light suddenly shone from the cowshed; I looked round
and saw a great crowd of women-witches standing there. I ran away by
the garden at the back of the house until I reached a high road; then I
stopped and looked round and saw that the witches were coming after me;
and looking towards the hamlet where my house was I saw that witches
were coming with a bright light from that direction also. When I found
myself thus hemmed in I felt that my last hour had come but I ran on
till I came to some jungle.

Looking back from there I saw that the two bands had joined together
and were coming after me. I did not feel safe there for I knew that
there were bongas in the jungle who might tell the witches where
I was. So I ran on to the tola where an uncle and aunt of mine
lived. As I ran down the street I saw two witches at the back of one of
the houses. They were sitting down; one was in a state of possession
(rūm) and the other was opposite her holding a lamp. So I
left the street and made my way through the fields till I Came to my
uncle’s house. I knocked and was admitted panting and breathless;
my uncle and aunt went outside to see what it was that had scared me
and they saw the witches with the two [429]lights flashing and
made haste to bolt the door. None of us slept for the rest of the night
and in the morning I told them all that had happened.

Since that night I have been very frightened of witches and do not
like to go out at night. It was lucky that the witches did not
recognise me; otherwise I should not have lived. Ever since I have
never stayed at home for long together; I go there for two or three
months at a time and then go away and work elsewhere. I am too
frightened to stay in my own village. Now all the old women who taught
witchcraft are dead except one: when she goes I shall not be frightened
any more. I shall be able to go home when I like. I have never told any
one but my uncle and aunt what I saw until now that I have written it
down.

So from my own experience I have no doubt about the existence of
witches; I cannot say how they “eat” men, whether by magic
or whether they order “bongas” to cause a certain
man to die on a certain day. Some people say that when a witch is first
initiated she is married to a bonga and if she wants to
“eat” a man she orders her bonga husband to kill him
and if he refuses she heaps abuse on him until he does.

[Contents]

CLXXIX. Witch Stories.

Young girls are taught witchcraft against their wills and if they
refuse to “eat” their father or brother they die or go mad.
There was a girl in my own village and she went out gathering herbs
with another girl who was a witch. As usual they sang at their work and
the witch girl sang songs the tune of which the other thought so pretty
that she learnt them by heart. When she had learnt them the witch girl
told her that they were witch songs and explained to her their meaning.
The girl was very angry at having been taught them unawares but the
[430]witch girl assured her that she would never be
able to forget the songs or their interpretation; then she assigned her
to a bonga bridegroom and then told her to sid atang and
all would be well with her otherwise she would have trouble.

When the girl learnt that she must sid atang by
“eating” her father or brother or mother she began to make
excuses; she could not kill her father for he was the support of the
family; nor her only brother for he was wanted too at the Baha
and Sohrai nor her mother who had reared her in childhood. The
witch girl said that if she refused she would die; and she said that
she would rather die than do what was required of her. Then the witch
did something and the girl began to rave and talk gibberish and from
that time was quite out of her senses. Ojhas tried to cure her
in vain until at last one suggested that she should be taken to another
village as the madness must be the work of witches living in her own
village. So they took her away and the remedies then cured her. She
stayed in her new home and was married there. A long time afterwards
she went back to pay a visit to her father’s house: but the day
after she arrived her head began to ache and she fell ill and though
her husband came and took her away she died the day after she reached
her home.

There was another girl; her friends noticed that when she came home
with them in the evening after planting rice she was very careful not
to fall behind or be left alone and they used to laugh at her for being
a coward. But one day she was gathering Indian corn with a friend and
as they talked she said “You will all have lovely dancing at the
Sohrai.” “You!” said her friend: “won’t
you be there? Are you going away?” Then the girl began to cry and
sobbed out that her mother had taught her witchcraft and married her to
a bonga; and it was for fear of the bonga that she did
not like to be alone [431]in the dark; and because she had refused to
“eat” anyone her mother intended to “eat” her
and so she had no hope of living to see the Sohrai. Three days later
the girl fell ill and died, and after her death her friend told how she
had foreseen it.

[Contents]

CLXXX. Witch Stories.

In the village of Mohulpahari there was a youth named Jerba. He was
servant to Bepin Teli of Tempa and often had to come home in the dark
after his day’s work. One night he was coming back very late and,
before he saw where he was, suddenly came upon a crowd of witches
standing under a hollow mowah tree at the foot of the field that the
dhobie has taken. Just as he caught sight of them they seized hold of
him and flung him down and did something which he could not
remember—for he lost his senses when they threw him down. When he
came to himself he managed to struggle free and run off. The witches
pursued but failed to overtake him and he reached his home in a state
of terror. The witches however had not finished with him for two or
three days after they caused him to fall from a tree and break his arm.
Ojhas were called in but their medicines did him no good. The arm
mortified and maggots formed and in a few days Jerba himself told them
that he would not recover; he told them how the witches chased him and
that he had recognised them as women of his own village and shortly
afterwards he became speechless and died.

My own brother-in-law lived at Mubundi. One night he and several
other men were sitting up on the threshing-floor watching their rice.
In the middle of the night they saw lights shining and flickering in
the courtyard of my brother-in-law’s house and he went to see
what was the matter. When he got near, the lights went into
[432]the house: he went up quietly and as he looked
in found the house full of women who extinguished the light directly
they saw him and rushed out of the house. Then he asked my sister what
the light was; but she could only stammer out “What light? I saw
no light,” so he struck her a blow and went back to the
threshing-floor and told the others what he had seen. That night he
would not tell them the names of the women he had seen; and before
morning his right arm swelled and became very painful; the swelling
quickly increased and by noon he lost consciousness and a few hours
later he died.

[Contents]

CLXXXI. The Two Witches.

There were once a woman and her daughter-in-law who were both
witches. One night during the annual Sohrai festival the men of the
village were going from house to house singing and getting rice beer to
drink; and one young man named Chandrai got so drunk that when they
came to the house where the two witch-women lived he rolled himself
under the shelf on which rice was stored and fell asleep. Next morning
he came to his senses but he did not like to come out and show himself
for fear of ridicule so he made up his mind to wait till a party came
round singing again and then to slip out with them unperceived.

He lay waiting and presently all the men of the house went away to
join in the danka dance; leaving the mistress of the house and
her daughter-in-law alone. Presently, the two began to talk and the
elder woman said “Well what with the pigs and the goats that have
been sacrificed during this Sohrai we have had plenty of meat to eat
lately and yet I don’t feel as if I had had any.”
“That is so,” answered her daughter-in-law;
“fowls’ and pig’s flesh is very unsatisfying.”
“Then what are we to do?” rejoined the old woman, “I
[433]don’t know unless you do for the father of
your grandchild.” When he heard this Chandrai shivered with
fright and hid himself further under the rice shelf, for he saw that
the two women must be witches.

That day was the day on which a bullock is tied to a post outside
each house and at noon the husband of the younger witch began to dig a
hole outside the house to receive the post. While he was working
Chandrai heard the two women begin to talk again. “Now is your
opportunity,” said the younger woman, “while he is digging
the hole.” “But perhaps the ojha will be able to
discover us,” objected the other. “Oh we can prevent that
by making the ojha see in the oiled leaf the faces of Rupi and
Bindi—naming two girls of the village—and we can say that
my husband had seduced them and then declined to marry them and that
that was why they killed him.” The old woman seemed to be
satisfied, for she took up a hatchet and went out to where her son was
digging the hole. She waited till he bent down to throw out the earth with
his hands and then cut open his back and pulled out his liver and heart
and brought them into the house. Her unfortunate son felt a spasm of
pain when his mother struck him but he did not know what had hurt him
and there was no visible wound. The two women then chopped up the liver
and heart and cooked and ate them.

That night when the village youths came round to the house, singing,
Chandrai slipped out with them unperceived and hastened home. Two or
three days later the bewitched man became seriously ill; medicines and
sacrifices did him no good; the ojhas were called in but could
make nothing of the illness. The villagers were very angry with them
for the failure and the headman told them that they must ascertain by
means of the oiled leaf who had caused the illness, [434]or
it would be the worse for them. So the ojhas went through their
ceremonies and after a time declared that the oiled leaf showed the
faces of the two girls Rupi and Bindi; and that it was they who were
eating up the sick man. So the two girls were sent for and questioned
but they solemnly swore that they knew nothing about the matter. No one
believed their protestations and the headman ordered that filth should
be put into their mouths and that they should be well beaten to make
them confess. However before any harm was done them Chandrai sprang up
and called out to the headman: “You have proof that these girls
are witches, but I will not let you beat them here. Let us take them to
yonder open field; the token of their oath is there and we will make
them first remove it. If we beat them first they will probably refuse
to remove the oath.” “How do you know about their
oath?” asked the headman. “Never mind, I do know.”
The villagers were convinced by his confident manner and all went with
the two girls to the open field.

Chandrai’s object was to get away from the witches’
house for he was afraid to speak there; but when they were out in the
open he stood up and told the villagers all that he had seen and heard
the two witches do; they remembered that he had been missing for a
whole day during the Sohrai festival and believed him. So the sick
man’s wife and mother were fetched and well beaten to make them
restore the sick man to health; but his liver and heart had been eaten
so that the case was hopeless and in a few days he was dead. His
relations in revenge soon killed the two witches.

Rupi and Bindi whose lives had been saved by Chandrai went and
established themselves in his house, for they declared that as they
owed their lives to him it was plain that he must marry them.
[435]

[Contents]

CLXXXII. The Sister-in-Law Who Was a Witch.

There were once two brothers who lived together; the elder was
married but the younger had no wife. The elder brother used to
cultivate their lands and his wife used to draw water and fetch fuel
and the younger brother used to take the cattle out to graze. One year
when the elder brother was busy in the fields the younger one used to
take his cattle to graze near where his brother was working and the
wife used to bring out the breakfast for both of them. One day the
younger brother thought he would play a trick on his sister-in-law by
not answering when she called him to his breakfast; so when her husband
had finished his meal and she called out for the younger brother to
come he gave no answer; she concluded that the cattle were straying and
would not let him come so she took up her basket and went to look for
him; but when he saw her coming he climbed up a tree and hid himself
and for all her calling gave no answer, but only sat and laughed at her
although she came quite close to where he was.

At last the woman got into a passion and putting down the breakfast
by the side of a pool which was close to the tree up which her
brother-in-law had climbed she stripped off her clothes and began
bowing down and calling. “Ho, Dharmal Chandi! come forth!”
When he saw this the man was amazed and waited to see whom she was
calling, meaning to let her know he was there directly she turned to go
away home with the breakfast. But the woman kept on calling to Dharmal
Chandi and at last out of the pool appeared an immense bearded
bonga with long and matted hair. When the woman saw him her
tongue flickered in and out like a snake’s and she made a hissing
noise, such as a crab makes. Then the woman began “Dharmal Chandi
I [436]have a request which you must promise to
grant.” And when the bonga had promised she proceeded.
“You must have my brother-in-law killed by a tiger the day after
to-morrow; he has put me to endless trouble making me go shouting after
him all through the jungle; I wanted to go back quickly because I have
a lot of work at home; he has wasted my time by not answering; so the
day after to-morrow you must have him killed.” The bonga
promised to do what she asked and disappeared into the pool and the
woman went home.

While the younger brother was up in the tree his cattle had got into
a gundli field and eaten up the crop: and the owner found it out
and got the brothers fined. So that evening the elder brother asked him
where he had been that he had not looked after the cattle properly nor
eaten any breakfast. In answer the younger brother only began to cry;
at that his sister-in-law said. “Let him alone; he is crying for
want of a wife; he is going silly because we have not married
him;” and so nothing more was said. But the elder brother was not
satisfied and the next day when they went together to work he asked the
younger what was the real reason for his crying.

Then the younger answered. “Brother, I am in great trouble; it
makes me cry all day; if you wish ever to look on my face again, you
must not work in the fields to-morrow but keep me company while I tend
the cattle; if we are separated for a moment a tiger will kill me; it
will be quickly over for me but you I know will miss me much and so I
am grieving for you; if you have any tenderness for me do not leave me
to-morrow but save me from the tiger.” His brother asked the
reason for this foreboding but the younger man said that he would
explain nothing and accuse no one until the events of the next day had
shown whether he was speaking the truth; if a tiger really came to
stalk him then that would be [437]proof that he had had good reason
for his apprehension; and he begged his brother not to speak a word
about it to anyone and especially not to his wife.

The elder brother promised to keep the matter a secret and cheered
his brother up and told him to be of good heart; they would take their
bows and axes and he would like to see the tiger that would touch them.
So the next morning the two brothers went off together well armed and
tended the cattle in company; nothing happened and at midday they
brought the cattle home; when the woman saw them with bows in their
hands she asked where they had been. Her husband told her that he had
been to look for a hare which he had seen on the previous day but he
had not been able to find it. Then his brother said that he had seen a
hare in its form that very morning but had not had time to shoot it. So
they pretended to arrange to go and hunt this hare and after having
eaten their rice they drove out the cattle again.

As they went along they kept close together with their arrows on the
string, so that the tiger which came to stalk the younger brother got
no opportunity to attack; at last it showed itself at the edge of the
jungle; the cattle were thrown into a turmoil and the brothers saw that
it was really following them; and the elder brother was convinced that
there was some reason for his brother’s fears. So they turned the
cattle back and cautiously drove them home, keeping a good look out all
the way; the tiger prowled round them hiding in the bushes, sometimes
in front and sometimes behind, but found no opening to attack while
they for their part did not dare to shoot at it. The tiger followed
them right up to the house; but the elder brother did not leave the
other for a moment nor let him go outside the door and at night he
slept on the same bed with him. [438]

The next morning he begged his brother to tell him all that had
happened and explain how he knew that a tiger would seek his life on
the previous day. “Come then” said the other, “to
yonder open ground. I cannot tell you in the house;” so they went
out together and then the younger told all that had happened and how
his sister-in-law had ordered the Bonga to have him killed by a
tiger; “I did not tell you before till my story had been put to
the proof for fear that you would not believe me and would tell your
wife; but now you know all. I cannot live with you any longer; from
this very day I must go and find a home elsewhere.” “Not
so” said the other, “I will not keep such a woman with me
any longer; she is dangerous; I will go home now and put her to
death,” and so saying he went home and killed his wife with an
axe.

[Contents]

CLXXXIII. Ramjit Bonga.

Once upon a time a man went out to snare quail: he set his snares by
the side of a mountain stream and then sat down under a bush to watch
them. As he waited he saw a young woman come along with her water pot
under her arm to draw water from the stream. When she got to the
ghat she put down her pot and made her way up the stream towards
where the snares had been set; she did not notice the hunter but went
to the stump of an ebony tree near him and looking round and seeing no
one she suddenly became possessed and started dancing round the ebony
tree and singing some song which he could not clearly catch; and as she
danced she called out “The Pig’s fat is overflowing:
brother-in-law Ramjit come here to me.” When she called out like
this the quail catcher quietly crept nearer still to her. Although the
woman repeatedly summoned him in this way the Bonga would not come out
because [439]he was aware of the presence of the onlooker;
the woman however got into a passion at his non-appearance and
stripping off her clothes she danced naked round the tree calling out
“The Pig’s fat is overflowing: brother-in-law Ramjit come
hither at once.” At last out of the nala appeared the
bonga, dark, enormous and shaggy; and approached the woman: Then the
woman said “Brother-in-law Ramjit there is something that you
must do for me; my nephew is ill; he must die on such and such a day;
that day I must see the smoke of his funeral pyre; but you must save me
from the witch-finder; let the blame fall not on me but on so and so;
this is what I came to urge on you; that you protect me from discovery
and then we shall always be friends.”

The Bonga at first knowing that they were being watched would not
make the promise but when the woman insisted he promised in a low voice
and then disappeared into the nala; and the witch went back to
the ghat, filled her water pot and went home. The quail catcher also
went trembling home and he remembered the day fixed for the death of
the nephew of the witch and he decided to wait and see what happened
before saying anything to the villagers. Sure enough on the day before
that fixed by the witch the invalid became unconscious and was
obviously at the point of death. When he heard this the quail catcher
went to the sick man’s bedside and seeing his condition told his
relatives to collect all the villagers to beat the woman whom he had
seen with the Bonga and he told them all that had passed; the villagers
believed him and summoning all the women of the village they scolded
them; and then being excited by this they rose up and began to beat the
women; to each they gave one blow with a stick, but the woman whom the
quail catcher pointed out they beat till she fainted. [440]

Then they ordered her to cure the sick man and threatened to burn
her along with him if he died, but she insisted that she was innocent.
Then they told her that they knew all that had passed between her and
the Bonga Ramjit, she persisted that it was all a mistake. So they
started to beat her again; they beat her from her heels to her neck and
then from her neck down to her heels till the blood flowed and they
swore that they would not let her go unless she cured the sick man and
that if he died they would cut her to pieces. At last the torture made
her confess that it was she who was eating the sick man; and she
promised to cure him; so they first made her tell the names of all the
other witches in the village and then tied her to a post and kept her
there, and did not untie her till in four or five days the sick man
recovered. When she was let loose the quail catcher ran away from the
village and would not live there any more.

But the villagers threatened the witch woman that if her nephew or
any of his family got ill again they would kill her; and they told her
that as her secret had been found out she was henceforth to be their
ojha and cure their diseases; and they would supply her with
whatever she wanted for the purpose; they asked what sacrifice her
nephew must make on his recovery; and she told them to get a red cock,
a grasshopper: a lizard; a cat and a black and white goat; so they
brought her these and she sacrificed them and the villagers had a feast
of rice and rice beer and went to their homes and the matter ended.

[Contents]

CLXXXIV. The Herd Boy and the Witches.

Once upon a time a cowherd lost a calf and while looking for it he
was benighted in the jungle; for he was afraid to go home lest he
should be scolded for [441]losing the calf. He had with him
his bow and arrows and flute and a stick but still he was afraid to
stay the night in the jungle; so he made up his mind to go to the
jahirthān as More Turuiko would protect him there;
so he went to the jahir thān and climbed a tree in which a
spirit abode; he took his bow and arrows up with him but he was too
frightened to go to sleep.

About supper time he saw a number of women who were witches collect
from all sides at the jahir thān: at this sight he was more
frightened than ever; the witches then called up the bongas and
they also summoned two tigers; then they danced the lagre dance
and they combed the hair of the two tigers. Then they also called
More Turniko and when they came, one bonga said “I smell a
man” and More Turniko scolded him saying “Faith, you
smelt nothing until we came; and directly we come you say you smell a
man; it must be us you smell”; and the chief of the bongas
agreed that it must be all right. Then while the women were dancing the
boy took his bow and shot the two tigers, and the tigers enraged by
their wounds fell on the witches and killed them all; and then they
died themselves; and as they were dying they roared terribly so that
the people in the villages near heard them. When it grew light the boy
climbed down and drawing the arrows from the bodies of the tigers went
home.

Then the people asked him where he had spent the night and he said
that he was benighted while looking for his calf and as he heard tigers
roaring near the jahir thān he was frightened and had
stayed in the jungle. They told him that when the tigers began to roar
the calf had come running home by itself and this was good news to the
herd boy. Then he found that all the children in the village were
crying for their mothers and the men were asking what had become of
their wives; then the herdboy said that in the night he [442]had
seen some women going in the direction of the jahir thān
but he had not seen them come back and they had better go and look
there. So the villagers went off and found their wives lying dead by
the jahir thān and the two tigers also dead; and they knew
that the women must have been witches to go there at night; so they
wept over them and burned the bodies. And a long time afterwards the
boy told them all that he had seen and done; and they admitted that he
had done right in destroying the witches and that it would be well if
all witches met the same fate.

This story whether true or not is told to this day.

[Contents]

CLXXXV. The Man-Tiger.

There was once a young man who when a boy had learnt witchcraft from
some girl friends; he was married but his wife knew nothing about this.
They lived happily together and were in the habit of paying frequent
visits to the wife’s parents. One day they were on their way
together to pay such a visit and in passing through some jungle they
saw, grazing with a herd of cattle, a very fine and fat bull calf. The
man stopped and stripped himself to his waist cloth and told his wife
to hold his clothes for him while he went and ate the calf that had
stirred his appetite. His wife in astonishment asked him how he was
going to eat a living animal; he answered that he was going to turn
into a tiger and kill the animal and he impressed on her that she must
on no account be frightened or run away and he handed her a piece of
root and told her that she must give it him to smell when he came back
and he would at once regain his human shape.

So saying he retired into a thicket and took off his waist cloth and
at once became a tiger; then he swallowed the waist cloth and thereby
grew a fine long [443]tail. Then he sprang upon the calf and
knocked it over and began to suck its blood. At this sight his wife was
overwhelmed with terror and forgetting everything in her fear ran right
off to her father’s house taking with her her husband’s
clothes and the magic root. She arrived breathless and told her parents
all that had happened. Meanwhile her husband had been deprived of the
means of regaining his own form and was forced to spend the day hiding
in the jungle as a tiger; when night fell he made his way to the
village where his father-in-law lived. But when he got there all the
dogs began to bark and when the villagers saw that there was a tiger
they barricaded themselves in their houses.

The man-tiger went prowling round his father-in-law’s house
and at last his father-in-law plucked up courage and went out and threw
the root which the wife had brought under the tiger’s nose and he
at once became a man again. Then they brought him into the house and
washed his feet; and gave him hot rice-water to drink; and on drinking
this he vomited up lumps of clotted blood. The next morning the
father-in-law called the villagers and showed them this blood and told
them all that had happened; then he turned to his son-in-law and told
him to take himself off and vowed that his daughter should never go
near him again. The man-tiger had no answer to make but went back
silently and alone to his own home.

Note:—The following is a
prescription for making an Ulat bag or were-tiger.

“The fibre of a plant (Bauhinia vahli) beaten out and cooked
in mustard oil in a human skull.”

[445]

[Contents]

Glossary.

Adwa. Rice husked without having been boiled.

Arta. Red pigment applied to the feet for ornament.

Baha Porob. The flower festival; the spring festival held
about February.

Bandi. A receptacle for storing grain, made of straw
rope.

Bharia. A bamboo carried on the shoulder with a load slung at
each end.

Bhut. A ghost, a harmful spirit, not originally a Santal
word.

Bonga. The name for all gods, godlings and supernatural
beings. Sing bonga is the sun god; the spirits of ancestors are bongas,
there are bongas of the hills, streams and the forest; others are like
fairies and take human form. Sacrifices are offered to bongas on all
occasions.

Brinjal. The egg plant.

But. Grain, a kind of pulse.

Chamar. A low caste, workers in leather.

Chando. The sun, the supreme god of the Santals.

Champa. A country in which according to their traditions, the
Santals once lived.

Charak Puja. The festival at which men are swung by hooks
from a pole.

Chatar. A festival at which dancing takes place round an
umbrella. [446]

Chowkidar. A watchman.

Churin. The spirit of a woman who has died while pregnant,
her feet are turned backwards. Not originally Santal.

Chumaura. A ceremony observed at marriage, and Sohrae
festival.

Dain. A witch. Witches are supposed to use their powers to
cause sickness and death; women accused of witchcraft are often
murdered.

Dehri. The president of the annual hunt; he presides over the
Court which during the hunt hears appeals against unjust decisions of
paganas.

Dewan. The chief minister of a Raja.

Dhobi. A washerman.

Dhoti. The waistcloth worn by men.

Dom. A low caste, scavengers, basketmakers and drummers.

Gamcha. A small piece of cloth worn round the neck, or when
bathing.

Ghât. The approach to a pool or river at which people
bathe; the crossing place of a river.

Ghormuha. A horse-headed monster; not a Santal name.

Goâla. A man of the cow keeping caste.

Godet. The village constable, the official messenger of the
headman.

Goondli. A small millet.

Gosain. A religious ascetic, usually of the Vishnuite
persuasion.

Gupinî. A celestial milkmaid, such as those who danced
with Krishna; not a Santal creation.

Gûr. Juice of sugar cane, molasses. [447]

Hadi. A low caste of scavengers.

Jan or Jan guru. A witch finder. When a man is ill the
Jan is consulted as to what witch is responsible. The Jan usually
divines by gazing at an oiled leaf.

Jahirthan. The group of sacred trees left in each village for
the accommodation of the spirits of the forest when the jungle is
cleared.

Jai tuk. A bullock given to a woman at her marriage.

Jhalka. A boastful man.

Jogi or Jugi. A religious ascetic, a mendicant.

Lota. A small brass water pot.

Lakh. One hundred thousand.

Mahadeo. The great god, i.e. Siva.

Mahajan. A moneylender.

Mahuli. A tribe akin to the Santals, basket makers by
profession.

Malhan. A cultivated leguminous plant.

Manjhithan. The little pavilion in the centre of every Santal
village at which the spirits of dead headmen are worshipped and where
village councils are held.

Mantra. An incantation, sacred or magic formula.

Marang Burn. The great spirit, the original chief god of the
Santals.

Marwari. A trader from Rajputana and the adjoining parts.

Maund. A weight, 40 seers or 82 pounds.

Meral. A small tree. Phyllanthus emblica.

More Turuiko. Lit.: The five or six—certain Santal
godlings.

Mowah. A tree, Bassia latifolia, the fleshy flower is eaten
and spirit is distilled from it. [448]

Musahar. A semi-aboriginal caste which catches and eats
rats.

Nala. A water course with steep banks.

Narta. The namegiving ceremony observed three or five days
after birth, by which the child is formally admitted into the
tribe.

Ninda Chando. The moon goddess, wife of Singchando the Sun
god.

Kat. A dry measure used for grain.

Kisar Bonga. A spirit which takes up its abode in the house,
frolicsome and mischievous.

Kisku. One of the twelve exogamous septs of Santals, by
tradition it was formerly the royal sept.

Koerī. A cultivating caste of Hindus.

Kora. A youth or young man, the hero of a story is often
called so throughout, and I have for convenience adopted it as a proper
name.

Kos. A measure of distance, two miles.

Ojha. An exorcist, a charm doctor, one who counteracts the
effects of witchcraft.

Pachet. A place in the Manbhum district which the Santals
occupied in the course of their immigrations.

Panchayat. A council primarily of five which meets to decide
a dispute.

Pagri. A cloth worn round the head, a turban.

Paharia. A hill man; the Saurias or Malé of the
Rajmahal hills.

Pai. A wooden or metal measure containing half a seer.

Pan. Betel used for chewing.

Parganna. A Santal chief having jurisdiction over a number of
villages. [449]

Paranic. The assistant headman of a village.

Parrab. A festival.

Peepul or pipal. A tree, ficus religiosa.

Pilchu Haram and Pilchu Budhi. The first man and
woman.

Rahar. A cultivated crop, a kind of pulse.

Raibar. A marriage go-between, a man employed to arrange a
marriage.

Rakas. An ogre. Sanskrit Rakhshya.

Rum. To be possessed, to fall into a cataleptic state.

Sabai. A kind of grass used for making rope.

Sal. A forest tree. Shorea robusta.

Seer. A weight, about two pounds.

Sid atang. To take the final step, to be completely
initiated.

Sing bonga. The Sun god.

Sipahi. An armed guard, a soldier, armed messenger.

Sohrai. The great winter festival of the Santals.

Taluq. A revenue division of the country.

Tarop tree. A small tree, Buchanania latifolia.

Thakur. The supreme Being.

Tika. A mark on the forehead, the giving of which corresponds
to coronation.

Tola. A hamlet, a detached quarter of a village. [451]

[Contents]

Appendix

[Contents]

Introduction.

The Kolhān forms the western half of the district of Singhbhum
in Chota Nagpur. The Hos or Larka Hos who form the bulk of the
inhabitants are a branch of the Mundas of the Chota Nagpur Plateau.
They are one of those Kolarian tribes of which the Santāls are
perhaps the best known. I have collected some of the Folklore stories
current among them, the recollection of which would, however, appear to
be dying out.

The Rev. A. Campbell of the Free Church of Scotland, Santāl
Mission, has printed a volume of Santāl Folk Tales collected by
him in Manbhum, a neighbouring district to Singhbhum. As might be
expected there is considerable resemblance between those Santal Tales
and the ones now reproduced. I have heard some of Mr. Campbell’s
Santāl stories told by Hos precisely as he relates them, and there
are many incidents common to both collections. On the other hand there
is no resemblance between these Kolarian tales, and the Bengal stories
published by Rev. Lal Behari De. In the latter I only notice one
incident which appears in the Kolhān stories, the bringing
together of two lovers through a long hair floating down a stream, but
in Bengal it is the lady’s hair that floats to her lover, while
in the Kolhān it is always the long hair of the hero which
inspires love in the heart of the Rājā’s daughter.

The stories may be divided into two groups, the animal stories in
which the principal characters are animals, for the most part denizens
of the jungles, and the stories which deal with a settled state of
Society with Rājās, priests and members of the different
Hindu castes following their usual occupations. It is interesting, but
perhaps scarcely profitable, to try and deduce from the latter some
hints of the previous history of the Hos, who, as we know them, are a
strongly democratic race, with a well developed tribal system. They
look on themselves as the owners, of the soil and are unwilling to
admit the claims of any overlord. [452]

I have made no attempt to put the following stories into a literary
dress; I merely bring them as a few stones to the hands of the builders
who build the structure of comparative mythology.

[Contents]

(1)—The River Snake.

Once upon a time a certain woman had been on a visit to a distant
village. As she was going home she reached the bank of a flooded river.
She tried to wade across but soon found that the water was too deep and
the current too strong. She looked about but could see no signs of a
boat or any means of crossing. It began to grow dark and the woman was
in great distress at the thought that she would not be able to reach
her home.

While she thus stood in doubt, suddenly out of the river came a
great snake an said to her: “Woman, what will you give me if I
ferry you across the river?” She answered: “Snake, I have
nothing to give you.” The snake said I cannot take you across the
river unless you promise to give me something. Now the woman at the
time was pregnant and not knowing what else to do, she promised that
when her child was born, if it were a daughter she would marry her to
the river snake and if it were a son that, when the boy grew up he
should become the “juri” or “name
friend” of the snake. The woman swore to do this with an oath and
then the snake took her on his back and bore her safely across the
flooded stream. The woman safely reached her home and in a little time
a daughter was born to her. Years passed away and the woman forgot all
about the snake and her oath. One day she went to the river to fetch
water and the snake came out of the stream and said to her:
“Woman, where is the wife whom you promised to me?” The
woman then remembered her oath and going back to her house she returned
to the river with her daughter. When the girl came to the bank of the
river the snake seized her and drew her underneath the water and her
mother saw her no more. The girl lived with the snake at the bottom of
the river and in the course of years bore him four snake sons.

Afterwards the girl remembered her home and one day she went to
visit her mother. Her brothers when they came home were astonished to
see her and said: “Sister, we thought that you were drowned in
the river.” She answered: “No, I was not drowned, but I am
married and have children.” The [453]brothers said:
“Where is this brother-in-law of ours?” Their sister said:
“Go to the river and call him.” So they went to the river
and called and the snake came up out of the water and went to their
house with them. Then they welcomed the snake and gave him great
quantities of rice beer to drink. After drinking this the snake became
sleepy and coiling himself in great coils went to sleep. Then the
brothers who did not like a snake brother-in-law took their axes and
cut off the head of the snake while he slept, and afterwards their
sister lived in their house.

[Contents]

(2)—The Sons of the Tigress.

Once upon a time a cow and a tigress lived in a jungle and were
great friends, they were never separated. Now in those days tigers did
not eat flesh, but grazed like cattle, so the tigress never thought of
doing any harm to her friend the cow. The tigress had given birth to
two men children who were growing up fine and sturdy lads. One
afternoon the cow and the tigress went down to a stream to drink, the
cow went into the stream and drank and the tigress drank lower down.
The cow fouled the water of the stream and the tigress tasting the
water found it sweet and thought if the cow can make the water so sweet
how sweet the flesh of the cow must be. So on the way back from the
stream the tigress suddenly sprang on the cow and killed her and ate
her up, leaving nothing but the bones. When she got home her sons asked
her where the cow was, but the tigress said that she did not know and
that the cow must have deserted them, but afterwards the boys found the
bones of the cow and they guessed what had happened. Then they thought,
if our mother has killed her friend the cow, she will surely kill and
eat us next. So when the tigress was asleep they killed her with axes.
Then they ran away and after going for many days through the jungle
they reached a city and they found all the people in great distress
because a tiger was devastating the kingdom and killing all the
inhabitants and no one could kill the tiger. The Rājā of the
city made a a proclamation that any one who could kill the tiger should
have half the kingdom and his daughter in marriage. The two boys being
the sons of a tigress were able by their knowledge of tiger ways to
kill the tiger. So they were given half the kingdom and the elder of
them married the king’s daughter and they lived happily ever
after. [454]

[Contents]

(3)—The Tiger’s Marriage.

Once upon a time there lived a Rājā who had one son and
many daughters. One day the Rājā went into the jungle to cut
grass. He cut a great deal of grass and tied it up in a big bundle and
then he found that he had cut so much that it was more than he could
carry. As he was wondering what he should do a tiger came by that way
and seeing the Rājā in difficulties asked what he could do to
help him. The Rājā explained that he had cut a bundle of
grass which was too heavy to carry. The tiger said that he would carry
the grass if he were rewarded for it: the Rājā asked him what
reward he wanted. The tiger said that he wished for one of the
Rājā’s daughters in marriage. The Rājā
reflected that he had many daughters and agreed to the proposition.
Thereupon the grass was placed on the tiger’s back and he carried
it to the Rājā’s palace. Now the Rājā was
ashamed to give his daughter openly to the tiger so he told the tiger
to wait by the water hole, and sending for one of his daughters bade
her go and fetch water; the girl went to the water hole where the tiger
was waiting and was carried off by the tiger. But the
Rājā’s son missed his sister and went in search of her.
After searching some time he came to a cave in the jungle and looking
in he was the tiger finishing the remains of the girl whom he had
killed. Then the Rājā’s son ran home as quickly as he
could, and told the Rājā what he had seen.

The next day the tiger came openly to the Rājā’s
palace and asked to see the Rājā. He was taken to the
Rājā and treated politely. Then the tiger said to the
Rājā: “I am sorry to say that the wife whom you gave me
has died, so you must give me another.”1 The
Rājā said he would think about the matter and invited the
tiger to stay at the palace. So the tiger was given a good bed, and
quickly went to sleep. In the night the Rājā’s son
boiled some large vessels of water and poured the scalding water over
the sleeping tiger and killed him. And in this way the tiger died.

[Contents]

(4)—The Jackal and His Neighbours.

Once upon a time a jackal killed a kid in a village and taking it to
a little distance began to enjoy a good meal. But [455]the
crows who always make a noise about other people’s business,
gathered in a tree over his head and made a great cawing, so the
villagers went to see what was the matter and beat the jackal severely
and deprived him of his feast. On this account the jackal was very
angry with the crows and determined to be revenged.

Shortly afterwards a great storm came on with wind and heavy rain
and all the birds and animals were in danger of being drowned. Then the
jackal pretended to be sorry for the crows and invited them all to come
and take shelter in his house. But when the jackal had got them safely
into his house he killed and ate them all; all except one
nilkanth bird which he decided to keep for his breakfast the
next day, so he tied the nilkanth bird, on to his tail and went
away from that part of the country. But the nilkanth bird pecked
and pecked at the jackal’s tail until it not only pecked itself
loose but hurt the tail so much that it became festered and
swollen.

As the jackal went along with his swollen tail he met a potter going
to market with earthern pots for sale. Then the jackal put on a
bullying air and said that he was a sipāhi of the Rājā,
and one pot of those being taken to market must be given to him; at
first the potter refused, but being frightened he in the end gave one to the
jackal.

Into this the jackal pressed the matter which had accumulated in his
swollen tail and covered it over with leaves. Going on, the jackal met
a boy tending goats, he told the boy that he had arranged with the
boy’s father to buy one of the goats in exchange for a pot of
ghee, the boy believed this and took the chatty with its contents from
the jackal and gave him a fine goat.

The jackal went off to his home in triumph with the goat.

His friends and neighbours were very jealous when they saw that he
had so fine a goat and waiting till his back was turned, they killed
and ate the goat, and then they filled the skin with stones and gravel
so that it might seem that the whole goat was still there. The jackal
found out what his neighbours had done, and he took the goat skin to a
muchi and got the muchi to make it into a drum. Then he
went to the banks of a deep river and began to play the drum. All the
other jackals collected round and were lost in admiration of the tone
of the drum. They wanted to know where so beautiful a drum was got, the
first jackal said that there were many drums as good at the bottom of
the river, and if they tied stones round their [456]necks and jumped in they would find them. So the
other jackals in their anxiety to get such drums jumped into the river
and were drowned, and the jackal was revenged on all his enemies.

[Contents]

(5)—The Jackal and the Tigers.

Once upon a time a pair of tigers lived in a jungle with their two
cubs, and every day the two tigers used to go out hunting deer and
other animals that they might bring home food for the cubs. Near the
jungle lived a jackal, and he found it very hard to get enough to live
upon; however, one day he came upon the tiger’s den when the
father and mother tiger were out hunting, and there he saw the two
tiger cubs with a large piece of venison which their parents had
brought them. Then the jackal put on a swaggering air and began to
abuse the tiger cubs for having so much venison, saying: “I am
the sipāhi of the Rājā and the Rājā has
demanded venison and none can be found, while low people like you have
a fine piece like this: give it at once or I will take it and report
against you to the Rājā.” Then the tiger cubs were
frightened and gave up the venison and the jackal went off gleefully
and ate it. The next day the jackal came again and in the same way took
off more meat. The jackal continued taking their meal from the tiger
cubs every day till the cubs became very thin: the father tiger
determined to find out why this was, so he hid himself in the bushes
and watched: he saw the jackal come and take away the meat from the
cubs. Then he was very angry and ran after the jackal to kill him and
the jackal ran away very fast and the tiger ran after as fast as he
could: at last the jackal ran into a cleft between two rocks and the
tiger running after him stuck fast between the two rocks and could not
come out and so was starved to death. But the jackal being smaller ran
out on the other side.

Then the jackal went back to the tiger’s den and told the
tigress that her husband had been caught by the Rājā and
thrown into prison for interfering with his sipāhi. The tigress
and her cubs were very unhappy at this news for they thought that they
would starve. Then the jackal comforted them and told them not to be
afraid as he would stay with them and protect them, and help them with
their hunting. So the next day they all four went hunting. They
arranged that the jackal should wait at a certain place, while the
tigers beat the jungle [457]and drove the game towards him.
The jackal had boasted about the amount of game that he could catch and
when a herd of deer broke by him he tried to seize one but they easily
escaped: then the jackal was ashamed but in order not to be detected he
lay down and pretended that he had been suddenly taken very ill. And
when the tigers came up they were sorry for him and forgave him for
catching no game. The next day it was arranged that the tigress should
be in wait and the jackal and the two young tigers should beat: the
tigress soon killed a fine deer. When the others came up the tigers
wanted to eat it at once, but the jackal would not let them and said
that they must go to a little distance while he did puja to make the
food wholesome. The tigers obeyed and under pretence of doing puja the
jackal ate up all the tit bits and then allowed the tigers to come and
eat the rest. This happened daily and the jackal lived in comfort all
his days.

[Contents]

(6)—The Wild Buffaloes.

There was once a man so poor that he had no land, no plough and no
plough cattle: all that he had was a pair of fine goats. This man
determined to plough with the goats, so he made a little plough and
yoked the goats to it, and with it he ploughed a piece of barren
upland. Having ploughed he had no seed paddy to sow; he went to try and
borrow some paddy from the neighbours, but they would lend him nothing.
Then he went and begged some paddy chaff, and a neighbour readily gave
him some. The man took the chaff and sowed it as if it had been seed.
Wonderful to relate from this chaff grew up the finest crop of paddy
that ever was seen. Day by day the man went and watched with joy his
paddy grow and ripen. One morning when he went to see it he was
horrified to find that in the night wild buffaloes had come and eaten
and destroyed the whole crop. Having now no other resource the man
determined to follow the wild buffaloes into the jungle: he readily
tracked them and came to a large open space where every night the wild
buffaloes used to sleep. As it was very dirty he made a broom of twigs
and brushed the place clean. At nightfall he heard the buffaloes coming
back and he went and hid in a hollow tree. When the buffaloes saw how
clean their sleeping place had been made they were very pleased and
wondered who had done it. The next morning the buffaloes all went away
into the jungle to graze, and the man came out [458]of
his hollow tree and again swept up the place: the buffaloes on their
return saw that the place had again been swept and decided to leave one
of their number to watch and see who did this. They left a buffalo who
was lame to watch: when the day got hot however the lame buffalo went
to sleep, and the man then came out of his tree and swept up the place
and hid himself again without being discovered. So the next day the
buffaloes left a blind one behind.

The blind buffalo was of very acute hearing and he heard the man
come out and sweep the place and return to the tree: so when the other
buffaloes came back he told them of the man’s hiding place. The
buffaloes made him come out and arranged that they would provide for
him if he would stay with them and sweep their sleeping place daily.
The next day the buffaloes lay in wait for a band of merchants who were
travelling through the forest and suddenly charging down upon them put
the merchants to flight: they fled leaving behind them all their goods
and provisions: these the buffaloes took on their horns and carried to
the man, and in this way they from time to time supplied him with all
he needed. As he was alone all day they gave him a pair of horns, and
said that wherever he was if he blew on the horns all the buffaloes in
the forest would come to his assistance. But one day when he was
bathing he put the horns down on the bank of the stream and crows flew
away with them and he did not care to tell the buffaloes that he had
lost them.

One day he went to bathe in the river and after bathing he sat and
combed his hair on the bank. Now his hair was so long that it reached
to his knees. One of his long hairs came out and so he took it and
splitting open a loa fruit he coiled the hair inside and closed
the fruit up and then set it to float down the river. A long way down
the stream a Rājā’s daughter happened to be bathing and
the loa fruit floated past her: she caught hold of it and when
she opened it she found the long hair inside. At once she went to her
father and vowed that she would marry no one except the man to whom the
long hair belonged. As nothing would alter her determination the
Rājā sent men up the river to search for the owner of the
long hair. One of them found the man at the home of the buffaloes and
brought him to the Rājā. He was at once married with great
grandeur to the princess and promised the succession to the kingdom. So
our hero began to live in great luxury. One day as he was standing in
the courtyard of the palace some [459]crows flew overhead and
dropped the pair of horns that he had lost. He picked them up and
boasted that if he blew on them the whole town would be at once
destroyed. The bystanders laughed at him, whereupon he got angry and
blew on the horns. Then there was a great noise and an enormous herd of
wild buff aloes was seen rushing down to destroy the town. However
before they could do any damage he ran out and assured them that he was
unhurt; at this the buffaloes were pacified; then all the straw and
grain in the palace was brought out and given to the buffaloes to eat:
after eating all they wanted they went back into the jungle, all except
one pair which stayed behind in the palace; and from this pair are
descended all the tame buffaloes which we see to-day.

[Contents]

(7)—The Grateful Cow.

Once upon a time there were two brothers who were very poor and
lived only by begging and gleaning. One day at harvest time they went
out to glean. On their way they came to a stream with muddy banks and
in the mud a cow had stuck fast and was unable to get out. The young
brother proposed that they should help it out, but the elder brother
objected saying that they might be accused of theft: the younger
brother persisted and so they pulled the cow out of the mud. The cow
followed them home and shortly afterwards produced a calf. In a few
years the cow and her descendants multiplied in a marvellous manner so
that the brothers became rich by selling the milk and ghi. They
became so rich that the elder brother was able to marry; he lived at
home with his wife and the younger brother lived in the jungle grazing
the cattle. The elder brother’s son used every day to take out
his uncle’s dinner to the jungle. This was not really necessary
for the cow used to supply her master with all sorts of dainties to
eat, so the younger brother, when his nephew brought out the rice used
to give the boy some of the sweetmeats with which the cow supplied him,
but he charged him not to tell his parents about this nor to take any
home. But one day the boy hid some of the sweetmeats in his cloth and
took them home and showed them to his mother. His mother had never seen
such sweetmeats before and was convinced that her brother-in-law wished
to poison her son. So she took the sweetmeats away and the next day she
herself took out the dinner to her brother-in-law and after he had
eaten it she said that she would comb [460]his hair and pick out
the lice from it; so he put his head on her lap and as she combed his
hair in a soothing way he went off to sleep. When he was asleep the
woman took out a knife and cut off his head. Then she got up and
leaving the head and body lying at the place went home. But the cow had
seen what occurred and with her horns she pushed the head along until
it joined the neck: whereupon the man immediately came to life again
and learned what had happened to him. So he drove off all the cattle to
a distant part of the jungle and began to live there.

Every day he milked his large herd of cows and got a great quantity
of milk; he asked his friend the cow what he was to do with it and she
told him to pour it into a hole in the ground at the foot of a pipal
tree Every day he poured the milk into the hole and one day as he was
doing so out of the hole came a large snake and thanked him for his
kindness in supplying the milk and asked him what reward he would wish
to receive in return. Acting on a hint from the cow the man said that
he would like to have all the milk back again. Whereupon the snake
vomited up all the milk which it had drunk and died on the spot. But
the milk mingled with poison fell over the man and imported to his body
a glorious and shining appearance, so that he seemed to be made of
fire.

After this the man used every day to go and bathe in a river, and
each day when he bathed he threw one of his hairs into the water: and
his hairs were very long. Lower down the river a princess used to bathe
and one day she saw one of the hairs come floating down and vowed that
she would marry no one but the owner of the hair. So the father of the
princess sent a Brāhman up the river to look for the man with the
long hair. The Brāhman was a very thin man with his ribs showing
through his skin. After some days he found our hero and was amazed at
his shining appearance. He told him that a princess wished to marry
him: he was invited to stay some days; he did so, living on the milk
from the herd of cows and in a short time became very fat. The cow told
the man to take a basket and creep into the hole from which the snake
had come he did so and at the bottom he found a heap of gold and
silver: he filled his basket with this and came back and gave it all to
the Brāhman, and told him to go home and inform his master that he
would come in a few days and marry his daughter. When the
Rājā saw the gold and silver and how fat the Brāhman had
got he was very pleased to think what a [461]son-in-law he was
getting. In a few days the cow said that it was time to start and as he
had no other conveyance he set out riding on the cow. When they reached
the boundary of the Rājā’s kingdom the man woke up one
morning and found that a great retinue of elephants and horses and
pālkis and sipāhis had appeared during the
night. This was owing to the magic of the cow. So the man mounted an
elephant and went in state to the Rājā and married his
daughter with great ceremony. After staying some days he decided to
return home and started off with his wife and grand retinue. When they
reached the boundary of the kingdom all the elephants and horses and
pālkis and sipāhis vanished into air, and the
princess found that she and her husband had nothing but an old cow to
ride upon. At this she was very unhappy but she was ashamed to go back
to her father, so she went on with her husband and helped to tend the
cows in the jungle.

One morning they woke up and found that in the night a grand palace
had sprung up fitted with wealth of every kind, this was the last gift
of the cow which soon afterwards died. Thus the man became a
Rājā and founded a kingdom and he gave a rupee to every one
who would come and settle in his kingdom. Many people came and among
others his brother and sister-in-law who had fallen into great poverty.
When they saw their brother they were afraid and thought that they
would be killed, but he forgave them and gave them clothes and land and
they all lived happily ever after.

[Contents]

(8)—The Belbati Princess.

Once upon a time there were seven brothers the youngest of whom bore
the name of Lita. The six elder brothers were all married but Lita
refused to marry and when questioned he said that he would not marry
any one but the Belbati Princess. His sisters-in-law laughed very much
at the idea that he would marry a princess and worried him so much that
at length he decided to set out in search of the Belbati princess. So
one day he started off and after some time came to a jungle in which
was sitting a holy muni. Lita went to him and asked if he knew
where he would find the Belbati-princess. The muni said that he
did not know but that a day’s journey farther on was another
muni who might be able to tell him. So Lita travelled on for a
day and found another muni who was in the midst of performing a
three month’s spell of fasting and meditation. [462]Lita
had to wait till the muni returned to thoughts of this world and
then made his enquiry. The muni said that he did not know but
that three days’ journey farther on was another muni who
might be able to help him. So Lita went on and found the third
muni who was in the midst of a six months’ fast. When this
muni came to himself and heard what Lita wanted he said that he
would be very glad to help him. The Belbati princess was at the time
imprisoned in the biggest bel fruit growing on a bel tree
which was guarded by Rākshasas. If he went and plucked this fruit
he would secure the princess, but if he took any but the biggest fruit
he would be ruined.

Lita promised to bear this in mind and then the muni changed
him into a biti bird and told him the direction in which to fly.
Lita flew off and soon came to the tree, which was covered with fruit;
he was very frightened when he saw the Rākshasas there, so in a
great hurry he went and bit off the first fruit that he came to; but
this was not the biggest on the tree and the Rākshasas immediately
fell upon him and ate him up. The muni, when Lita did not come
back, knew that something must have happened to him so he sent a crow
to see what was the matter. The crow came back and said that one
bel fruit had been picked but that he could not see Lita. Then
the muni sent the crow to bring him the droppings of the
Rākshasas. The crow did so and from the droppings the muni
restored Lita to life. The muni reproved Lita for his failure
and told him that if he wished to make a second attempt he must
remember his behest to pick only the biggest bel fruit. Lita
promised and the muni turned him into a parroquet. In this form
Lita again flew to the bel tree and picked the biggest fruit on
the tree. When the Rākshasas saw the parrot making off with the
fruit they pursued him in fury; but the muni turned the parrot
into a fly so small that the Rākshasas could not see it, so they
had to give up the chase.

When they had departed Lita recovered his own form and went to the
muni with the bel fruit and asked what more was to be
done in order to find the princess. The muni said that the
princess was inside the fruit; that Lita was to take it to a certain
well and very gently break it open against the edge of the well. Lita
hurried off to the well and in his anxiety to see the princess he
knocked the fruit with all his force and split it suddenly in two. The
result of this was that the princess burst out of the fruit in such a
blaze of light that Lita fell down dead. When the princess saw that her
[463]brightness had killed her lover she was very
distressed and taking his body on her lap she wept over him. While she
was doing so a girl of the Kāmār caste came by and asked what
was the matter. The princess said: “My lover is dead, if you will
draw water from the well I will revive him by giving him to
drink,” but the Kāmār girl at once formed a wicked
plan. She said that she could not reach the water in the well. Then
said the princess: “Do you hold this dead body while I draw the
water.” “No,” said the Kāmār girl, “I
see you mean to run away leaving me with the dead body and I shall get
into trouble.” Then said the princess: “If you do not
believe me take off my fine clothes and keep them as a pledge.”
Then the princess let the Kāmār girl take off all her
jewellery and her beautiful dress and went to draw water from the well.
But the Kāmār girl followed her and as the princess leant
over the edge she pushed her in, so that she was drowned. Then the
Kāmār girl drew water from the well and went back to Lita and
poured some into his mouth, and directly the water touched his lips he
came back to life, and as the Kāmār girl had put on the dress
and jewellery of the Belbati princess he thought that she was the bride
for whom he had sought. So he took her home to his brothers’
house and married her.

After a time Lita and his brothers went to hunt in the jungle; it
was very hot and Lita grew very thirsty; he found himself near the well
at which he had broken the bel fruit and went to it for water.
Looking down he saw floating on the water a beautiful flower; he was so
pleased with it that he picked it and took it home to his
Kāmār wife; but when she saw it she was very displeased and
cut it up into pieces and threw the pieces out of the house. Lita was
sorry and noticed shortly afterwards that at the place where the pieces
of the flower had been thrown a small bel tree was sprouting. He
had this planted in his garden and carefully watered. It grew well and
after a time it produced ripe fruit. One day Lita ordered his horse,
and as it was being brought it broke loose and run away into the
garden: as it ran under the bel tree one of the bel
fruits fell on to the saddle and stayed there. When the syce caught the
horse he saw this and took the fruit home with him. When he went to cut
open the fruit he found inside it a beautiful woman; he kept the woman
in his house. At this time the Kāmār woman fell ill and was
like to die. Lita was very distressed at the thought of losing his
Belbati princess. At last the Kāmārin said that she was being
bewitched by the girl [464]who was living in the syce’s
house and that one or other of them must die. Lita at once ordered the
girl to be taken into the jungle and killed. Four Ghāsis took her
away and put her to death. Her last request to them was that they
should cut off her hands and feet and put them at the four sides of her
grave. This they did. After the death of the girl the Kāmār
wife recovered her health.

After a time Lita again went hunting and at nightfall came to the
place where the girl had been put to death. There he found standing a
fine palace. He went in but the only living creatures he saw were two
birds who seemed to live there; he lay down on a bed and went to sleep.
While he slept the birds sat by him and began talking. One told the
other the story of the search for the Belbati princess and how the
Kāmār girl had thrown her into the well and taken her place.
When Lita heard this he awoke and was very unhappy. The birds told him
that once a year the Belbati princess visited the palace in which he
was; her next visit would be in six months. So Lita stayed there and at
the end of the six months he hid behind the door to await the princess.
She came and as she passed through the door he caught her by the hand,
but she wrenched herself away and fled. Lita was very depressed but the
birds told him to be more careful the next time. So he waited a year
and when the princess was expected he hid himself: the princess came
and seeing no one entered the palace and went to sleep. While she slept
Lita secured her. They were married and lived happily ever after, and
the wicked Kāmār girl was put to death.

[Contents]

(9)—The Bread Tree.

There once was a boy who lived with his mother and was engaged all
day in tending cattle. Every morning when he started his mother gave
him two pieces of bread called “hunger bread” and
“stuffing bread,”—one to satisfy hunger with and the
other to over-eat oneself on. One day the boy could not eat all his
bread and he left the piece that remained over on a rock. When he went
back the next day he was surprised to see that from the piece of bread
a tree had grown which bore loaves of bread instead of fruit. After
that the boy no longer took bread from his mother, but lived on the
fruit of his tree.

One day he had climbed his tree to pick a loaf when an [465]old
woman came by with a bag over her shoulder and saying that she was very
poor begged for a piece of bread. The old woman was really a
Rākshasī. The boy was kindhearted and told her that he would
throw her down a loaf, but the old woman objected that it would get
dirty if it fell on the ground. Then he told her to hold out her cloth
and he would throw it into that: but she said that she could not see
well enough to catch the loaf: he must come down and give it to her: so
the boy came down to give her the loaf and when the Rākshasī
had him on the ground, she seized him and put him in her bag and went
off with him.

After going some way she came to a pool of water and as she was
rather thirsty from carrying such a burden, she put down her bag and
went to drink. Opportunely some travellers came by and hearing the
boy’s shouts let him out of the bag. The boy filled the bag with
stones and tied it up as before and made the best of his way home. The
old Rākshasī went off with the heavy bag and when she got to
her abode told her daughter with whom she lived that she had captured a
fine dinner but when the daughter opened the bag she found in it
nothing but stones: at this she was very angry and abused her mother:
then the old woman said that the boy had escaped on the road: so the
next day she went back to the place where the boy was tending cattle
and by the same trick she caught him and put him in her bag and this
time went straight home. She made him over to her daughter and went out
to collect fire wood with which to cook him. The boy being left alone
with the daughter began to ask how he was to be killed; she said that
his head was to be pounded in a Dhenki. He pretended not to
understand and asked how that was to be done. The girl not
understanding such stupidity put her head under the striker of the
Dhenki to show him what would happen. Then the boy at once
pounded her head in the Dhenki and killed her: he then put on
her clothes and cut her body up in pieces ready for cooking. When the
old woman came back with the fire wood she was pleased to find that her
daughter, as she thought, had got every thing ready; and the meal was
soon cooked and eaten. After the old woman had thus made a hearty meal
off the remains of her own daughter she felt sleepy and took a nap.
While she slept the boy struck her on the head with a large stone and
killed her; thus he saved his life and took all the property of the old
Rākshasī and lived happily ever after. [466]

[Contents]

(10)—The Origin of Sabai Grass (Ischaemum
Angustifolium).

Once upon a time there were six brothers who lived with their
sister. The brothers used to spend their days in the jungle hunting
while the sister minded the house and cooked the dinner against their
return.

One day while the brothers were hunting the girl went to cut herbs
to cook with the dinner: as she was doing so she chanced to cut her
finger and some drops of blood fell on the herbs, which were put in the
pot. When the brothers came home to dinner they noticed how very sweet
the food was and asked the reason. The girl said that she was afraid
that it must be because some drops of her blood had fallen on it. Then
the brothers took counsel together and agreed that if a few drops of
her blood were so sweet, she must be very nice to eat. So they agreed
to murder her and eat her. But the youngest brother named Lita, though
he did not dare to oppose his elders, was sorry for the decision. The
next day when the brothers came from the jungle they brought with them
a beautiful flower of seven colours and gave it to their sister. She
was delighted with it: she had never seen so beautiful a flower before
and wanted to know where it grew and whether were others like it. They
said that if she liked to come with them they would take her to the
tree on which the flowers grew and she could pick as many as she liked.
So the next morning she gladly went with them and they took her to the
tree with the seven-coloured flowers. She climbed the tree to pick the
flowers and when she was up in the tree they shot arrows at her to kill
her; but though they shot many arrows they could not kill her. Then
they compelled Lita to shoot and he with his first arrow killed his
sister.

Then they cut up the body of the girl ready for cooking and sent
Lita to a well to fetch water in which to cook the flesh. Lita went to
the well and overcome with sorrow sat down and wept. As he wept a large
frog came to the surface of the water and asked him what was the
matter; he said that he had been made to kill his sister and that now
they were going to cook her flesh. The frog told him to be comforted
and gave him a large rohu fish. Lita took this back and when his
brothers told him to cook the food, he hid the pieces of his
sister’s body and cooked the rohu fish. The brothers ate
this thinking that it was their sister. Then they went on into the
jungle hunting. After going a short way Lita said that he [467]had
forgotten to recover his arrow and that he must go back and fetch it.
He went back to the place, and taking his sister’s body buried it
and building a hut near, spent the days in weeping over the grave.
After he had spent some time thus the girl appeared alive out of the
ground. Lita was overjoyed and he and his sister remained happily in
the jungle.

One day a Rājā hunting in the jungle passed that way and
seeing the girl at once fell in love with her and took her away and
married her. Lita he also took with him and made him ruler of half the
kingdom.

In honour of his marriage the Rājā resolved to construct
an enormous tank: and people came from far and near to work at it.
Among others came Lita’s five elder brothers, who had fallen into
great poverty, owing to their wickedness. When their sister saw them
she forgave them and sending for them bestowed on them food and
clothing. But they were so ashamed and repentant that they could only
kneel on the ground and beat the earth with their hands. As they
continued to do so the earth opened and swallowed them up: only their
hair stuck out of the ground and that became sabai grass, and
this was the origin of all the sabai grass which exists.

[Contents]

(11)—The Faithless Sister.

Once upon a time there was a man who had a son and daughter: he used
to cultivate his land and his son and daughter used to take his dinner
to him. One day the man went to plough and while ploughing he stuck the
spear which he had brought with him into the ground. As the man
ploughed a tiger came and waited an opportunity to spring upon the man:
but from whichever side the tiger approached, the spear which was stuck
in the ground bent its point towards the tiger and so protected its
master. Just then the boy and girl came along with their father’s
dinner. The baffled tiger was hiding in some bushes by the field. As
the children went along they saw a paddy bird on the ground. The boy of
course had his bow and bird arrows with him and he shot an arrow at the
paddy bird: he missed the bird, but it happened that the tiger was just
in the line of fire; the arrow pierced the eye of the tiger and killed
it instantaneously. When the girl saw the tiger lying dead she said
that it was clear that their father had enticed them there in order
that the tiger might kill them when they brought him his dinner:
clearly the only way for them to [468]save their lives was to leave
their home at once. The boy agreed; drawing his arrow from the
tiger’s head and taking the tiger’s eyes with him, he went
away with his sister as fast as they could run. After going some little
distance they met in the way two tigers. The boy threw at the tiger the
eyes of the first tiger which he had brought with him. The tigers at
once fell down dead, but from the body of one proceeded, a hare, and
from the body of the other, two dogs which peaceably followed the boy
and his sister. Having escaped to a distance they lived in the jungle
happily for some time with their three animal friends. One day the hare
said that he would like to have a spear, so the boy went with him to a
blacksmith and got a spear made. As they were returning they met in the
way a giant Rākshasa who wished to devour them, but the
hare holding the spear kept jumping in and out of the giant’s
mouth with such speed that the Rākshasa was dumbfounded and
surrendered at discretion, promising to be a faithful servant to them
henceforth. With the help of the Rākshasa they had great
success in hunting. The boy with the hare and the two dogs used to beat
the jungle and drive the game towards the Rākshasa who
caught it in his mouth. One day they thus caught a monkey, whose life
they spared and who joined their band. The monkey took a large drum and
caught in it a nest of wild bees, which he preserved.

One day while the others were away a Rājā who was hunting
in the jungle found the girl sitting alone and at once fell in love
with her and wanted to marry her. The girl said that she was willing
but that she was sure that her brother would never consent. The only
thing was to kill her brother and the Rājā could never do
that as the faithful animals would protect him. At last the girl
consented to try and compass her brother’s death. To this end she
became very melancholy and seemed to pine away: her brother asked what
was the matter and she said that she would never recover unless he
could fetch her a certain flower which grew in the midst of a certain
lake. Now this lake swarmed with gigantic fish and poisonous snakes.
But the brother, never daunted, went to the lake and began to swim out
to the centre where the flower grew. Before he got half way there one
of the gigantic fish swallowed him up. The Rākshasa however saw
this and set to work to drink the lake up: he soon drank the lake dry
and not only caught the big fish but also was able to gather the flower
that had grown in the lake. They then cut open the fish and took the
boy [469]unharmed from its belly. The Rākshasa then
vomited up the water he had swallowed and filled up the lake again.
Meanwhile the Rājā thinking that the boy had died, carried
off his sister. But the boy setting out with the hare and the dogs and
the Rākshasa and the monkey proceeded to attack the
Rājā’s capital and recover his sister. The monkey
opened his drum and the bees issued forth and attacked the
Rājā’s army so that it fled. The Rājā had to
capitulate and give the boy half his kingdom and his own daughter in
marriage, then peace was declared and the animals all disappeared into
the jungle and our hero lived happily ever after.

[Contents]

(12)—The Cruel Sisters-in-Law.

Once upon a time there lived six brothers who had one sister. The
brothers were all married and their wives hated their sister-in-law. It
happened that the brothers all went away to trade in a far country and
her sisters-in-law took the opportunity to illtreat the girl. They said
“If you do not obey us and do what we tell you we will kill
you.” The girl said that she would obey their behests to the best
of her ability. They said “Then go to the well and bring this
earthen pot back full of water.” The khalsi had a large hole in
the bottom so that as fast as it was filled the water ran out. The girl
took the pot to the well and sitting down began to weep over her fate.
As she wept a large frog rose out of the water and asked her what was
the matter. She said “My last hour has come. If I cannot fill
this pot with water I shall be killed and it has a hole in the
bottom.” The frog said, “Be comforted, I will cure that: I
will sit on the hole and stop it up with my body and you will be able
to fill it.” This it did and the girl took the water back to the
house. The sisters-in-law were very angry but could say nothing so they
set her another task. They told her to go the jungle and bring home a
full bundle of sticks: but she was not to take any rope with which to
tie them. The girl collected a large quantity of sticks and then sat
down and cried because she was unable to carry them home: as she cried
a large snake came up and asked what was the matter. The girl told him,
whereupon the snake said that he would curl himself round the sticks
and serve as a rope. This he did and the girl was able to carry the
sticks home on her head. Defeated in this attempt the sisters-in-law
the next day told the girl to go to a field of pulse which had been
sown the day before [470]and bring back all the grain by the
evening. The girl went to the field and picked up a few grains but it
had been sown broadcast and the girl soon saw that the task was
hopeless: she sat down and cried and as she cried a flock of pigeons
flew to her and asked her what was the matter: she said that she could
not pick up all the grain in the field. They said that that was easily
managed, and the pigeons spreading over the field soon picked up all
the grain and put it into the girl’s basket, so that by evening
she returned with the basket full. The sisters-in-law were more than
ever enraged. They gave her a pot and told her that she must go to the
jungle and bring it back full of bear’s milk. The girl went to
the jungle and being very frightened sat down and began to cry: a large
she bear came by and asked what was the matter. The girl explained and
the she bear, sorry for her distress willingly allowed herself to be
milked without doing the girl any harm. The sisters-in-law then
resolved to make a more direct attempt on the girl’s life. They
took her into the jungle and told her to climb a certain tree and pick
them the fruit. The tree had a tall smooth trunk and the girl had to
climb the tree by driving pegs into the trunk. When she reached the
branches the sisters-in-law pulled the pegs out of the tree and went
home leaving the girl to starve. Night came on and the girl stayed in
the tree: it so happened that that day the six brothers were returning
home and being benighted stopped to sleep under that very tree. The
girl thought that they were dacoits and stayed still. She could not
help crying in her despair and a warm tear fell on the face of one the
brothers sleeping below and woke him up. He looked, up and recognized
his sister. The brothers soon rescued her and when they heard of the
cruelty of their wives they went home and put them all to death.

[Contents]

(13)—The False Rānī.

Once upon a time a Rājā who had just married was returning
with his bride to his kingdom. It was hot weather and a long journey
and as they passed through a jungle the Rājā and all his men
went down to a stream to drink leaving the bride sitting in her
pālki. As the bride thus sat all alone she was frightened
at seeing a she-bear come up. The bear asked the bride who she was and
where she was going. When she heard, she thought that she would like to
share so agreeable a fate, so by threats she made the Rānī
get out of her pālki and give her [471]all
her fine clothes and jewellery and go away into the jungle. The bear
dressing herself in the Rānī’s clothes, got into the
pālki, and when the men came back they took up the
pālki and went on their way without noticing any change,
nor did the Rājā detect the fraud: he took the bear to his
palace and installed her as his wife. Meanwhile the real bride had
picked up the walking stick of the Rājā and a cloth which he
had left on the road when he went to the stream, and ran into the
jungle. She made her way to the house of a Ghāsi woman who lived
by the Rājā’s palace with her daughters. The daughters
earned a living by selling flowers and one day one daughter, as she
sold the Rājā a garland, told him that his real bride was
living in their house. The Rājā was very distressed and at
once went to see his bride and was satisfied of her identity when she
produced his stick and cloth. The real Rānī refused to go to
his palace until the she bear had been put to death. Thereupon the
Rājā gave instructions to his followers and sent word to the
palace that he was dead. The officers and servants at the palace then
prepared a big pit and lit a large fire in it: they then sent for the
she bear and told her that she must perform the funeral ceremonies of
her husband. They made her take off her fine clothes and told her to
kneel down by the burning pit and make salaam to it. As she was doing
so they pushed her into the pit and she was burned to death. Then the
Rājā brought home his real bride in triumph. But from that
time bears attack men when they get the chance.

[Contents]

(14)—The Jackal and the Kite.

Once upon a time a jackal and a kite agreed to join forces and get
their food together. In pursuance of their plan they sent word to a
prosperous village that a Rājā with his army was marching
that way and intended the next day to loot the village. The next
morning the jackal took an empty kalsī and marched towards
the village drumming on the kalsī with all his might, and
the kite flew along overhead screaming as loud as he could. The
villagers thought that the Rājā’s army was approaching
and fled into the jungle. The jackal and the kite began to feast on all
the good things that had been left in the houses. There was however one
old woman who was too infirm to run away with the other inhabitants:
and had hid herself inside her house. When she saw that no army came
[472]but only a jackal and a kite she crawled away
into the jungle and told her friends. They came back, and surrounding
the village, caught the jackal: they began to beat the jackal with
sticks to kill it: the jackal uttered no sound and pretended that it
did not mind being beaten: after a time it began to jeer at its captors
and told them that they could never kill it by beating. The asked how
it could be killed and it said by burning. So they tied a bunch of old
cloths on to its tail and poured oil over them and set them on fire:
the jackal ran off with the burning bundle at the end of its tail and
jumping on to the nearest house set fire to the thatch: the fire spread
and the whole village was burnt down. The jackal then ran to a tank and
jumping into the water extinguished its blazing tail. But if you look
you will see that all jackals have a burnt tip to their tail to this
day.

[Contents]

(15)—The Sons of the Raban Rājā.

There was a Rājā who used to bathe daily at a certain
tank. In the tank was a great fish: as the Rājā washed his
mouth this fish used daily to swallow the rinsings of his mouth. In
consequence of this the fish after a time gave birth to two human
children. As the two boys grew up they used to go into the village near
the tank and play with the other children. One day however, a man beat
them and drove them away from the other children jeering at them
because they had no father. Much disturbed at this they went to the
fish and asked whether it was true that they had no father. The fish
told them that their father was the Rāban Rājā. The two
boys resolved to go in search of the Rāban Rājā: they
set out and after a time met a man and asked him if he knew the
Rāban Rājā. The man asked why they wished to know. They
said that they were his sons. Then the man at once killed them because
the Rāban Rājā was an enemy of his country. From the
place where the bodies of the dead boys lay, two large bamboos grew up.
When the bamboos had grown very big, a Jogi came by that way and cut
them down, making from them two flutes. These flutes produced such
beautiful music that every one was charmed and the fame of the Jogi
spread far and wide: so when in his wanderings the Jogi reached the
kingdom of the Rāban Rājā the Rājā sent for
him and the Jogi came to the palace with his two bamboo flutes. When
the flutes were brought into the presence of the Rājā they
burst [473]open and from them appeared the two boys. When
the Rājā heard their history he recognized them as his sons,
and sent the Jogi away with large rewards.

[Contents]

(16)—The Potter’s Son.

Once upon a time there was a Kumhār whose wife was about to
have a child. As they were very poor the pair resolved that if the
child should prove to be a boy they would abandon it, but if it were a
girl they would bring it up. When the child was born it was found to be
a son, so the Kumhār took it into the jungle and left it there.
There it was found by a tiger and tigress whose cubs had just died and
who determined to bring up the man-child as their own. They accordingly
fed it and looked after it; the boy grew up strong and healthy. When he
got big, the tiger went to a blacksmith and had made for him a bow and
arrows of iron with which he used to hunt. When the boy became a young
man the tiger decided that his marriage must be arranged for. So he
went to the capital of a neighbouring Rājā, and when the
Rājā’s daughter came to a tank to bathe, the tiger
seized her and carried her off into the jungle, where she was married
to the Kumhār’s son. The princess was very pleased with her
new husband, but found the life with the tigers in the jungle very
irksome. She constantly begged her husband to run away, until at last
he agreed. One day when the tigers were at a distance they started off
and soon arrived at the palace of the princess’ father. Leaving
her husband by the palace tank, the princess went ahead to see how
matters stood and to prepare a welcome for her husband. He being left
alone decided to bathe in the tank. Now a dhobā was there washing
the palace clothes, and seeing a stranger he concluded that it was a
thief come to steal the clothes. He accordingly killed him and then in
fear threw the body into the water. When the princess returned she was
distressed to find no sign of her husband but his iron bow and arrows.
Search was made everywhere and the tank was netted but no trace could
be discovered of her missing spouse.

Shortly afterwards a Ghāsi girl came to catch chingris
in the tank, and while doing so suddenly laid hold of a large fish. In
great delight she took it home. When she came to cut it up she found
inside the belly of the fish a living child. Pleased with its
appearance she decided to adopt it. She put it in a [474]basket, and tying the basket under her cloth
pretended to be pregnant, and shortly afterwards announced that she had
given birth to a child. The boy grew with marvellous rapidity.

Meanwhile the father of the widowed princess insisted that she
should marry again. But she was faithful to the memory of her husband
and declared that she would only marry the man who could draw the iron
bow. Many suitors came but they all failed to draw the bow. At length
the reputed son of the Ghāsi woman came and pulling the bow with
ease announced himself as the true husband of the princess with whom he
lived happily ever after.

[Contents]

(17)—The Wonderful Cowherd.

Once upon a time there was a Rājā who had seven daughters.
The seven princesses used to bathe daily in a tank and when they bathed
they used to put the scrapings from their bodies in a hole in the
ground. From this hole there grew a tree, and the eldest princess
announced that she would marry the man who could tell her what had
caused the tree to grow; many suitors came and made guesses but none
divined the truth; heir father was anxious that she should be married,
and insisted on every one in the kingdom being questioned. At last a
miserable, poverty stricken and sickly cowherd was asked; he had always
grazed his cattle on the banks of the tank and had often seen the
princesses bathing so he knew from what the tree had spring. The
princess being bound by her oath had to marry the miserable cowherd and
go and live with him in his hut.

All day long the cowherd used to be groaning in sickness and misery;
but at night he used to come out of his skin and appear as a beautiful
and shining man; in this form he used to go and play and dance in the
moonlight in the court yard of the Rājā’s palace. One
night the princess’s maid-servant saw her master return and creep
into his ugly skin; she told her mistress who resolved to keep watch
the next night; when she saw her husband assume his shining form and go
out of the house leaving his ugly skin lying on the ground, she took
the skin and burnt it in the fire. Immediately her husband came rushing
back declaring that he was suffering the agonies of burning; but the
skin was burnt and the former cowherd retained his glorious and shining
appearance; and on the [475]application of oil the pain of the
burning ceased. The princess then began to live with pleasure in the
company of so glorious a husband, who however only went out of the
house at night as his body was too bright for ordinary eyes to look
upon.

It began however to be whispered about among the neighbours that a
shining being was to be seen at the princess’s house and the
rumour eventually reached the ears of the Rājā. The
Rājā sent a messenger to see who the being was, but when the
messenger saw the shining man he was blinded and driven out of his
senses and returned to the Rājā in a state of madness. Two or
three other messengers successively met the same fate. At length the
Rājā resolved to go himself; when he saw the shining form of
his son-in-law he fell down in a faint; the princess’s husband
ran and lifted up the Rājā in his arms and revived him. After
this the former cowherd became only bearably bright, and being
recognized as the heir to the kingdom went to live with his wife in the
Rājā palace.

[Contents]

(18)—The Strong Prince.

There was once a king who, though he had two wives, had no son. He
was very anxious to have a son and heir and went away into the midst of
the hills and jungles and there began a course of worship and
sacrifices. His prayers were heard and while he was away it was found
that both his wives were pregnant. In due time the senior
Rānī gave birth to a son and sent a Brāhman to the king
with the welcome news. The Brāhman was a very holy man and he had
to pray and bathe so often that he made very slow progress on his
journey. A day or two later the younger Rānī also gave birth
to a son and she sent a low caste Ghāsi to give the news to the
Rājā. The Ghāsi travelled straight ahead and reached the
Rājā some time before the holy Brāhman. On hearing the
news that the younger Rānī had given birth to a son the
Rājā had at once declared that this boy should be his heir.
He was therefore much put out when the Brāhman arrived with the
news that the senior Rānī had given birth to a son first.

The Rājā returned home and entering the palace saw the
senior Rānī sleeping with her babe beside her. The boy had
sore eyes and the Rājā, declaring that the child bore no
resemblance to himself said that it was not his son and that the
Rānī had been unfaithful to him. [476]

The Rānī indignantly denied the accusation and said that
if the two brothers fought her son would prove his parentage.
Accordingly the two boys were set to wrestle with each other. The
struggle was an even one. As they swayed to and fro it happened that
the elder boy caught hold of the Rājā and pulled him to the
ground. This incensed the Rājā more than ever and he ordered
the senior Rānī to leave the kingdom with her child. On the
road by which they had to pass the Rājā stationed a
mast elephant in order that they might be killed, but when in
due course the elephant attacked them the boy caught hold of it and
threw it to a distance of four kos. After this feat the prince
and his mother journeyed to another kingdom. There they took up their
quarters near the ground where the Rājā’s
palwāns wrestled. The prince went to wrestle with them and
easily overcame the most renowned palwāns. In many ways he
showed his strength. One day he went to a mahājan’s shop and
the Mahājan instead of serving him promptly kept him waiting. In
indignation the boy took up the entire building and threw it to a
distance; hearing of these feats the Rājā of the country sent
for him and took him into his service; but here also he caused trouble.
He insisted on being treated with deference. Going up to the highest
officials he would tell them not to twist their moustaches at him, and
knock them down. On the throne in the palace when the Rājā
was absent a pair of the Rājā’s shoes was placed and
every one who passed by had to salaam to these. This our hero flatly
refused to do. In fact he became such a nuisance that he was promised
that he would be given his pay regularly if he would only stay away
from the palace. After this he spent his days in idleness and by night
he used to go to the shore and disport himself in the sea.

One night the goddess Kālī came to the
Rājā’s palace and knocked at the gate: but no one would
come to open it. Just then the prince came back from bathing in the
sea. Seeing him, Kālī Mā, said that she was so hungry
that she must eat him, though she had intended to eat the people in the
palace. She, however, promised him that though eaten he should be born
again. The boy agreed to form a meal for the goddess on these terms and
was accordingly eaten. Afterwards gaining admission to the palace
Kālī Mā ate up everyone in it except the
Rājā’s daughter. Then our hero was born again and
marrying the Rājā’s daughter succeeded to the kingdom,
and lived happily ever after. [477]

[Contents]

(19)—The Prince Who Became King of the Jackals.

Once upon a time there lived a Rājā whose son formed a
great friendship with a barber. For some reason the Rājā
quarrelled with his son and ordered him to leave the kingdom.
Accordingly the prince departed to a far country in company with his
friend, the barber. In order to earn a living the barber opened a
school and the prince took service with a mahājan. They were in
such straits that the prince had to submit to very hard terms, it was
arranged that his wages were to be one leaf-plate full of rice a day:
and that if he threw up the service he was to lose a piece of his skin
a span long. After a short time the prince who had been brought up in
luxury found the work so hard and the food so scanty that he resolved
to leave the mahājan: but before he went he had to submit to a
piece of skin being cut off, in terms of the agreement. The prince then
went to the barber and told him how ill he had fared. The barber vowed
that he should be avenged. So he went and offered himself as a servant
to the mahājan: he was engaged and it was agreed that whichever
party first proposed to terminate the contract should lose a piece of
skin a span long. The barber worked so badly and ate so much that one
day the mahājan in a fit of rage ordered him to leave the place
and in consequence forfeited a piece of his skin.

Having repaid the mahājan in his own coin the prince and the
barber left those parts and journeyed to the land of the king of the
jackals. They found the king of the jackals asleep in front of his
cave. While he still slept the barber shaved all the hair off his tail.
Then the two friends hid in the cave, drawing a cart in front of the
entrance. When the jackal awoke and found that he had been shaved he
concluded that there were bongas (spirits) about; and ran away
in terror. After going a short distance he met a bear who asked where
he was going in such a hurry. The king of the jackals said that some
bongas had taken possession of his cave and shaved off his hair.
The bear agreed to go back with the jackal and see if he could exorcise
the spirits. Going to the cave the bear climbed on to the cart to offer
a sacrifice. As he sat there the barber caught hold of his tail and
held on to it while the prince began to stab the bear with a knife. The
bear howled and groaned but could not get away. The king of the jackals
who was looking on was delighted, for he concluded that the
bongas had taken possession of the bear who would learn who
[478]they were and how they were to be exorcised. At
last the bear broke free and ran away: the jackal ran after him and
asked him what the bongas had told him: but the bear only said
ugh ugh and ran into the
jungle. Then the jackal met a tiger and telling his story persuaded the
tiger also to try his hand at exorcising the spirits. The tiger was
treated in the same way as the bear had been and ran off without giving
the jackal any information.

Then the king of the jackals resolved to try himself and mounted on
to the cart. But the barber stabbed him through the bamboos and killed
him. Then the prince succeeded to the kingdom of the jackals, and not
only so, but replaced the piece of skin which he had forfeited to the
mahājan by a piece of the skin of the dead jackal.

[Contents]

(20)—The Mongoose Boy.

Once upon a time there was a Rājā who had seven wives but
no children. In hope of issue he retired to the jungle and began a
course of prayers and sacrifices. While he was so engaged a
Brāhman came to him and told him to take a stick and with it knock
down seven mangoes from a neighbouring tree, and catch them before they
reached the ground: he promised that if the Rānīs ate these
mangoes they would bear children. The Rājā did as he was
directed and took the mangoes home and gave one to each of his
wives.

The youngest Rānī happened at the time to be sweeping out
a room and so she put her mango in a niche in the wall. Just then a
neighbour sent a mongoose, who was her servant, to ask for a light.
While the Rānī was fetching a firebrand from the hearth the
mongoose saw the mango and climbing up nibbled part of it without being
seen. After this the Rānī ate the mango. In due time the
seven Rānīs each gave birth to a son: but the son of the
youngest Rānī was the most beautiful with a face like a
mongoose. The eldest Rānī was jealous of the beauty of the
youngest Rānī’s son so one day she sent the youngest
Rānī to fetch some water: and during her absence took up the
mongoose boy and putting a stone and a broom in its place took the
child away and buried it in the pit from which the potters dig their
earth. When the Rājā heard that his youngest wife had given
birth to nothing but a stone and a broom he was very angry and turned
her out of the palace.

Meanwhile a potter had found the mongoose boy still alive
[479]and had taken him to his home. There the child
grew up and became a strong boy. One day he asked the potter to make
him an earthenware horse. On this horse he used to ride about, for
directly he mounted it, it was endowed with life. One day the mongoose
boy took his earthenware horse to water it at a tank near the palace
and there his six brothers saw it and insisted that they also should
have earthenware horses to ride. Horses were accordingly made for them
but when they mounted, the horses would not budge an inch. Enraged at
this the princes complained to their mothers. The Rānīs at
once suspected the identity of the potter’s boy and told their
sons to kill him.

So one day when the young princes met him at the tank they killed
the mongoose boy and buried his body. At the place where the body was
buried there grew up a bamboo of extraordinary size and a bush with
sweet and beautiful flowers: many people tried to cut down the big
bamboo and to pluck the beautiful flowers but every arm that was raised
to do so was restrained by some unseen power. Eventually the news of
this portent reached the ears of the Rājā who went to see
what was happening. When the Rājā tried to pluck a flower he
succeeded at the first attempt. The Rājā then cut down the
bamboo and out of it stepped the mongoose boy who told of the
illtreatment which he had received at the hands of the six
Rānīs and their sons. The Rājā wished him to come
to the palace but he insisted that his mother should first be sent for.
This was at once done.

Then the Rājā had a wide and deep well dug and announced
that a Pujā was to be performed at the opening of the well. To the
ceremony came the six Rānīs and their sons. As they all knelt
at the edge of the well doing pujā the Rājā had them
pushed into it, so that they were all drowned. Thus the wicked were
punished and the mongoose boy eventually succeeded to his
father’s kingdom.

[Contents]

(21)—The Prince and the Tigress.

Once upon a time there was a Rājā who had seven sons. One
day a tigress came to the palace and asked the Rājā to allow
one of his sons to be her servant and look after her cattle. The
Rājā consented and ordered his eldest son to go with the
tigress. The young man took his axe and bow and arrows and went with
the tigress to her cave. When he got there he [480]asked where were the cattle which he was to
tend. The tigress pointed out to him all the bears which were roaming
in the jungle and said that they were her cattle. By the cave stood a
large rock and the tigress told the prince to take his axe and cut it
in two. The prince tried, but the rock only turned the edge of his axe
and he quite failed to cut it. The tigress being thus satisfied that
the prince had no superhuman powers sprang upon him and killed him and
devoured his body. Then she went back to the Rājā and said
that she had too much work to be done, that she wished him to give her
a second son. The Rājā agreed, but this prince met the same
fate as the first; and in succession, all the sons of the
Rājā, except the youngest, went with the tigress and were
devoured by her. At last the youngest son went with the tigress: when
bidden to cut the rock in two, he easily accomplished the task. Then
the tigress knew that she had met her master and ran into her cave.
Looking into the cave, the prince saw the bones of his dead brothers.
Gathering the bones together, he prayed for fire to burn them, and fire
fell from above and burned the bones.

Then he climbed a tree in order to be out of the reach of the
tigress, and the tigress came and sat at the foot of the tree so that
he could not descend. Then he prayed again and wind arose and wafted
him away and set him down by a house where lived an old man and his
wife. The tigress followed in pursuit, but the aged couple hid the
prince and assured the tigress that he had not been seen; so the
tigress returned disappointed. The prince stayed with the old people
and worked on their land. One day as he was ploughing, the tigress came
and killed one of the bullocks that were drawing the plough. The prince
at once ran to the house to fetch his bow and arrow that he might kill
the tigress. When he returned, he found that several tigers were
sucking the blood of the bullock and with them a wild boar. He shot an
arrow which wounded the boar. The boar maddened by the pain turned on
the tigers and killed them all; including the tigress which had killed
the Rājā’s sons.

The prince then being no longer in danger from the tigress returned
to his father’s palace.

[Contents]

(22)—The Cunning Potter.

Once upon a time there lived at the gate of a Rājā’s
palace a Potter who had a pretty wife. The Rājā fell in love
with [481]the Potter’s wife and schemed to get rid
of the husband. He could not bring himself to commit a cold blooded
murder, but he tried to accomplish his object indirectly by setting the
Potter impossible tasks which he was to accomplish on pain of death.
The Rājā accordingly sent for the Potter and ordered him to
bring him the heads of twenty-four jackals.

The Potter went away to the jungle and began to dig a large hole in
the side of a hill. A jackal presently came by and stopped to ask why
he was digging the hole. The Potter said that it was going to rain fire
from heaven, and that every one who had not such a shelter would be
burnt. At this the jackal became very frightened; the Potter thereupon
said that he was so sorry for them that he would allow the jackal and
his friends to share the hole which he was digging. The jackal
gratefully ran away and returned with a number of other jackals. They
all went into the hole and the Potter closed the entrance. After a time
the Potter looked out and said that the fire was over; he then
stationed himself at the mouth of the hole and as the jackals came out
he cut off their heads with a knife; in this away he beheaded
twenty-three jackals; but the last jackal saw what was happening and
dodged the knife and escaped. The Potter took the twenty-three heads to
the Rājā; but the Rājā pretended to be angry and
said that if the Potter did not at once procure a twenty-fourth head,
he would be beheaded himself. The Potter took a pot of gur and
went to a pool of water which lay in the direction in which the
twenty-fourth jackal had fled. Smearing his body all over with
gur, he lay down by the water and pretended to be dead.
Presently the jackal which had escaped passed that way with a friend.
Seeing the body the second jackal proposed at once to go and eat it;
but the first jackal warned the other that there was probably some plot
and related how twenty-three of his friends had lost their lives at the
hands of this very Potter. But the second jackal would not listen to
advice and going to the supposed corpse smelt it and then began to lick
it; finding the taste of the gur very pleasant it set to work to
lick the body all over beginning at the feet; it licked the feet and
then the legs, when it reached his waist it was within reach of his
hand and the Potter stabbed it with his knife and took the head to the
Rājā.

Foiled in this design, the Rājā next ordered the Potter to
bring him a jar of tiger’s milk. Taking some loaves of bread, the
Potter went into the jungle and soon found a cave in which [482]was
a pair of tiger cubs whose parents were away hunting. The Potter told
the cubs that he was their uncle and gave them the bread to eat; they
liked the taste of the bread very much. Then the Potter hid himself in
a tree near the cave. Presently the tigress came back but her cubs
refused to suck her milk as usual, the tigress asked the reason of this
and the cubs said that their uncle had come and fed them with something
nicer than milk and they were no longer hungry. They then pointed out
the Potter in the tree and the tigress wanted to know what he had given
her cubs to eat. He told her that it was bread: the tigress said that
she would like to try some herself, whereupon the potter replied that
he would give her some if she would first give him some of her milk.
The tigress agreed and also consented that her legs should be tied
while she was being milked in order that she might not be able to harm
the potter. The tigress having been milked, the Potter gave her a loaf
of bread and then ran away as fast as he could.

Finding that he would not be able to get rid of the Potter by any
such devices, the Rājā then persuaded the faithless wife to
put the Potter to death. She accordingly set up an idol in her house
and prayed daily to this that her husband might become blind and die.
One day the Potter overheard her prayers: the next day he hid behind
the idol and when the woman came and prayed he answered from behind the
idol that her prayer was granted and that in two days her husband would
become blind. Accordingly, two days later the Potter pretended to
become blind. Then the woman sent word to the Rājā that her
husband was blind and that they had nothing to fear from him. The
Rājā accordingly came one night to visit the woman, and the
Potter killed them both with an axe. He buried the body of his wife,
but he was in great trouble as to how to dispose of the body of the
Rājā: for he knew that there would be a hue and cry when the
disappearance of the Rājā was discovered. At last he decided
to put the body in a field of brinjals belonging to a neighbour.
Towards morning, the owner of the field came to see that his property
was all right, and seeing some one among the brinjals, thought
that it was a thief. He accordingly hit the supposed thief on the head;
and when he came to examine the body, he was shocked to find that he
had, as he thought, killed the Rājā. In great distress he
went to consult his friend, the Potter; the Potter advised him to put
the body among the buffaloes belonging to [483]a Goālā. At
dawn the Goālā came to look at his buffaloes and seeing the
body of the Rājā thought that it was a thief stealing the
milk of the buffaloes: catching up a club, he inflicted a blow which
caused the body to fall over. When the Goālā, found that the
body was that of the Rājā and that he had apparently killed
him, he was in great fear and went to his friend, the Potter, for
advice. It was finally decided to dispose of the body by putting it
down a well. The next day great search was made for the missing
Rājā and the body was found in the well by a Brāhman.
Preparations were made for the obsequies and a funeral pyre erected.
The Potter saw his opportunity and digging a hole in the ground under
the pyre hid himself in it. When the body had been cremated and the
mourners were still collected at the spot, the Potter began to speak
from the hole in which he was concealed: the bystanders thought that
they heard the voice of the Rājā declaring that the Potter
had always been his true friend and that he desired that he should be
given half the kingdom and the hand of his daughter in marriage. The
supposed wishes of the late Rājā were obeyed and the Potter
lived in luxury for the rest of his life.


1 This is
quite in accordance with Ho notions. If a man buys a wife there is an
implied warranty that she is to last a reasonable time. If she dies
shortly after marriage a sister or cousin has to be given to replace
her.

Colophon

Availability

Produced by Jeroen Hellingman and the Distributed Proofreading Team
from page images provided by the Million Books Project. Another copy of
the book is also on-line on The
Internet Archive
.

Encoding

Quotation marks in this work were quite mixed up, they have been
fixed (within corr tags) where possible.

Revision History

  • 2004-04-07 Added TEI tagging.
  • 2008-03-23 Revisited. Added Colophon and regenerated HTML.
  • 2009-12-12 Revisited. Made some changes for ePub, generated ePub
    and regenerated HTML.

External References

Corrections

The following corrections have been applied to the text:

PageSourceCorrection
9RajahsRaja’s
9Rajah’sRaja’s
10Rajah’sRaja’s
10Rajah’sRaja’s
10RajahRaja
11Rajah’sRaja’s
11RajahRaja
11RajahRaja
11Rajah’sRaja’s
11Kherohuri-RajahKherohuri Raja
12RajahRaja
14RajahRaja
34[Deleted]
41[Deleted]
53[Deleted]
63Rajah’sRaja’s
66[Not in source]
68[Not in source]
86[Not in source]
100vilagersvillagers
103jewellryjewellery
144[Deleted]
145jewelryjewellery
176laboureslabourers
181[Not in source]
181[Not in source]
181[Not in source]
181[Not in source]
182jewelryjewellery
204rupesrupees
205merchandizemerchandise
252[Deleted]
252[Not in source].
282faitherfather
288RahkasRakhas
289RahhasRakhas
300kingkomkingdom
303milchmilk
314quarrelingquarrelling
322
322’..”
322
322
326[Not in source]
332[Not in source]
334[Not in source]
334[Not in source]
334mariagemarriage
341[Not in source]
357[Not in source]
359[Not in source]
365[Not in source]
375deseasedisease
410SatalsSantals
419
419
433thorwthrow
443son-in-in-lawson-in-law
447majicmagic
455keingbeing
478
478
478
478

Scroll to Top