Bengal Fairy Tales/Khoodeh, the Youngest Born

1995902Bengal Fairy Tales — Khoodeh, the Youngest BornFrancis Bradley Bradley-Birt

IV

KHOODEH, THE YOUNGEST BORN

ONCE upon a time, there was a family of seven brothers, six of whom were married, while Khoodeh, the youngest, remained single. They did not form a joint family, the brothers living independently of one another. Khoodeh had been his father's favourite and to him he had left the greater part of his possessions in coins and cowries. Khoodeh was on this account hated by his brothers. Their means of livelihood were precarious, while Khoodeh lived in comfort. One day, filled with spite and jealousy, they resolved to make away with him, and they cunningly devised a scheme to carry out their intentions. They asked Khoodeh if he would marry, and though he had seen enough to suspect them of treachery, he replied thus to them, "My elder brothers! I regard you as worthy of as much veneration as my father. Look out for a wife for me."

A few days passed, and Khoodeh's brothers one morning falsely told him that a girl had been found for him. They further said that very night had been fixed for the wedding and that they must all proceed to her father's house in the evening. Khoodeh pretended to be filled with joy and gratitude and made the necessary preparations for the supposed happy occasion. He knew that his brothers were making ready a pitfall for him, but he did not care, for he was sure of outwitting them. The time for departure came, and the brothers proceeded towards the fictitious house of the fictitious bride. A river had to be crossed, and as they drew near it, Khoodeh managed to fall behind his brothers and escape their notice for a moment. He hurriedly ran towards a cow-herd, whom he had seen driving home the cows in his charge, and asked him if he would care to marry. The swain grinned wide at the question, and answered in the affirmative; and our hero quickly took off his own wedding clothes, and exchanged them for those of the cow-herd, telling him to approach the wedding party, imitate his benefactor's voice, and under cover of the darkness of the evening, impersonate him. The deluded creature did as directed. The brothers took him into a boat with the ostensible object of crossing the river, but in reality to drown him. When the boat reached the middle of the river, they callously cast him into it, under the conviction that it was Khoodeh himself.

Khoodeh in the meantime had driven the cows into the yard of his house, and when his brothers returned, they saw him cooking his evening meal. Their surprise on seeing alive and well the man whom they believed they had thrown into the river and drowned, was as great as can be imagined. But great as their surprise was, they did not lose their impudence, and exclaimed, "Alas! brother Khoodeh, the boat received a terrible shock, and you, the gem of our eyes, fell out. We tried much to save you, but our attempts were vain. Broken-hearted we have returned home. Come, let us hold you close to our hearts. By the bye, where have you got the cows from?"

"I thank heaven for sparing me, and thus saving you from the pangs of bereavement," replied Khoodeh. "Just as I was being carried by the waves underneath the surface of the river, I found one of these cows swimming close by, and got on its back. Reaching dry ground, I met a being full of effulgence, who must be a god, beckoning me from a short distance away, and when I drew near he said, 'Say "hai" seven times, and each time a cow will come up from the water and place itself at your disposal.' I obeyed him and thus got the eight cows which you see."

Khoodeh's brothers went away very much dejected at their

KHOODEH THE YOUNGEST BORN

failure. The means they had adopted for his destruction had made him rich in the possession of eight milch cows. What more could they do? They racked their brains to find a solution of the question, and ultimately resolved to burn him alive by setting fire to his house the next night. The object of their evil intentions, however, by some means or other, guessed what was brewing, and spent the night chosen by the incendiaries for the crime, away from home. His house, however, was reduced to heaps of charcoal and ashes during his absence. But he was not the man to submit to misfortune without attempting to turn it to the best advantage. Returning home, he collected the charcoal, and, putting it into two large gunny-bags, which he placed on the back of one of his cows, one bag on each side, he started for the market for the ostensible purpose of selling their contents.

He knew well that the sale would fetch very little, so he did not really go to the market at all, but roamed about on the look out for further adventure. The day, however, passed unprofitably, and in the evening he retired to a Chati.

There he found a man with a cow loaded in the same way as his. In course of conversation, he asked his companion what his bags contained, and was told that they were filled with rupees. Being asked what the contents of his bags were, Khoodeh said that they were gold mohurs. Now this was a most successful cast of his dice, for when he was asleep the other man, who could hardly close his eyes during the night on account of the itching in his fingers to make the gold mohurs his own, got up long before the dawn, and drove away Khoodeh's cow with the bags of charcoal on it, leaving his own behind.

Khoodeh was prepared for the success of his ruse, so getting up at dawn, he drove the cow with the money home, reaching it before his brothers were awake. Their wives, however, had left their rooms, and were engaged in their morning duties. Unburdening the cow, and pouring down the money on the floor of his sleeping room as noiselessly as possible, he got from one of his sisters-in-law a corn measure to see how many rupees he had. But he kept the purpose secret in order to have a greater surprise ready for his relations. Measure after measure he deposited the coins in his chest, leaving at length a single rupee sticking to the bottom of the measure so that at sight of it his brothers and their wives might be thrown into a sea of curiosity, on knowing that he had had so much money that a measure was required to ascertain its amount. What he had anticipated came to pass, and his brothers, with jealousy and confusion on their faces, came to him and asked him how he had become the master of so much money that it could not be conveniently counted, but estimated only by the measure used for the purpose of measuring corn. He enjoyed their chagrin and confusion, replying, "You see, brothers, I am the favourite of the gods, and my good fortune turns misfortune into blessings. My house caught fire, and with the two bags of charcoal I have earned as many bags of rupees."

"Dear Khoodeh," the brothers hastened to answer, "do tell us how this happened. If feasible, we shall follow your plan and make ourselves rich for life."

"I have obtained the money in the easiest way," he replied. "A dozen miles off, there is a town where charcoal is so valued that the people there pay for a bag of it an equally capacious bag of rupees. I went there and they eagerly closed the bargain with me. I advise you to burn your houses and go to the town to-morrow morning, and while passing along its streets you must, as I did, bawl out, 'A bag of charcoal goes for an equally large bag of rupees.'"

Here Khoodeh gave an imaginary description of the fictitious town. And his brothers, as silly as they were covetous, set fire to their houses that very night. Next morning, six heaps of charcoal were put into twelve bags, and the six brothers with as many cows, borrowed from their neighbours, and loaded up with two bags each, proceeded in the direction pointed out by Khoodeh. At length they entered a town, and believing it to be the same as that which their brother had spoken of, they commenced crying at the top of their voices: "Here are twelve bags of the best charcoal, to be sold for as many bags of equal size filled with rupees." This was enough to overwhelm them with the ridicule of the people whose houses they passed, and the latter, forming a crowd around them, began to shower abuse upon them and cast handfuls of dust at them. When they vociferously demanded to know what all this meant, they were well thrashed with shoes, and thrust out of the town.

Thus ended their enterprise, and crestfallen they returned home. But what was home to them who were now houseless? On meeting their wives, they beat their heads and breasts with their hands, and told them their doleful story. Loud lamentations were uttered by the six families, bereft of shelter over their heads and of all their other possessions that they had by their own hands turned into ashes. To make the best of so unfortunate a position, they built temporary sheds thatched with palmyra leaves, and engaged themselves as day labourers to the solvent farmers of their village. Their attitude towards Khoodeh was changed. Though deep hatred rankled in their hearts, they could not any longer dream of molesting him, for they knew that he was far above them in wealth and wisdom. It was to their interest, under the circumstances, to gain his favour, and, sycophants that they were, they constantly approached him to curry favour. He was liberal minded, and not only did he forget the ill usage he had received from them, but opened his purse-strings for their relief. In short, after heaping coals of fire on their heads, he brought them, if not to love him—for love was foreign to their nature—at least to look up to him with respect and awe.

Khoodeh, rich beyond his expectations, married a good wife, and entered into speculations which soon made him the wealthiest man in his country. Secure in his high position, he invited his brothers to come and live with him. They eagerly availed themselves of the offer, and lived dependent on him whom they had once planned to destroy. He, however, did not in any way give them occasion to feel their unfortunate position. He was full of kindness to them, and took them as partners in his speculations without their paying a single pice in the shape of capital; for he well knew how poor they were. In time, however, they too became rich, and Khoodeh's and his brothers' families became the most honoured people in the country, living happily together in the full enjoyment of unclouded good fortune. He who is really strong and great does not find it difficult to forgive the small and evil minded.