MISCELLANEA.
Indian Folktales.
(Continued from Vol. VI., page 406.)
We must not trust Appearances.
The bearer of a certain rajah one day, when his master was out hunting, was making the rajah's bed, which he did very well. He began to wonder what the couch felt like to sleep on. "I must try," said he to himself. Pulling aside the covering, he got in, and it was so comfortable that, being somewhat drowsy, he immediately fell fast asleep. Now the rani, as evening fell, grew sleepy and went to her room. There, to her surprise, she saw her husband, as she thought, in bed. Surmising he must have come home quietly, and too tired out by the chase to salute her, she undressed and crept in the other side of the wide couch. When the rajah came home and found the couple in his bed he was furious, and, drawing his sword, would have killed them there and then. But the prudent vizier stayed his hand. "Wait till we prove guilt," said he; and he induced the rajah to hide himself in the room. Then the vizier crept under the couch armed with a long pin, which he ran into the lower resai (quilt) and pricked the bearer. The man woke, started up, and, horrified to see where he was, "Alas!" cried he, "what have I done? I must have fallen asleep," and he quickly smoothed his side of the bed and left the room. Then the vizier pricked the rani. She, too, awoke, and was much amazed not to find her husband by her. "I thought I saw him asleep," she said aloud to herself. And the rajah, well pleased at the vizier's ruse, saw he had been saved from killing two innocent persons.
The Bold Baby.
A rajah was once playing with his baby son, when the infant, who was very young, suddenly clutched at his father's beard and pulled it so violently the rajah exclaimed for pain, and angrily cried out, "Take the child away and kill it." The vizier interposed, and said, "Sir, this is a very brave child, and will do what you would not dare. You must spare him." "What?" cried the rajah; "that infant do what I would not dare?" "Yes," said the vizier, "and I will prove it you." And he ordered a great snake to be brought to the palace; and the baby, when put down on the ground near it, clutched with his little hands at the snake's tail and tried to put it to his mouth. The rajah smiled upon this, and thus the vizier saved the baby's life.
Servan.
There was once a good man who, as his parents were poor and old, had them to live with him. But his wife grudged the old people their food, which she had to cook; so she went to the potter and bade him make her a cooking pan with a partition in the middle. This the potter did; and ever afterwards this wicked woman used to cook the rice in sour buttermilk on the one side and in sweet fresh milk on the other, and she always gave the old people the buttermilk side. One day Servan came home earlier than usual from his bath, and as the old folk were hungry he took the rice off the fire and doled some out to them, chancing upon the good side of the pan. The poor old parents thus found their food much better than other days, and, greatly relishing it, called down the blessings of God upon their son. "Surely this is the same as you always have?" cried he, surprised. "Oh no!" replied they, "our food is always sour." Servan's wife, who just then came in, angrily cried out, "We all eat out of the same pot." But Servan's suspicions were roused, and he examined the pot, and discovering the trickery was so angry with his wife that he led her into the jungle and there left her. Then he put his old parents in a banghi[1] and carried them away, they were so thin and light. He thus entered into the country of a rajah called Jesrat. This rajah was so particular about his water that he guarded his tanks very jealously, allowing no beasts to drink in them. Now the old folks, exhausted by their journey, clamoured for water, so Servan put them down and went to fetch them some. And just as he was reaching over the tank the rajah, who happened to be near and took him in the dark for a wild animal, struck him on the head with a bamboo and killed him. The poor old parents cried out all night for their son, and the next day died for want of food and drink, and the banghi turned into stone and is still to be seen at Pachmari.[2] As to Servan's murderer, Jesrat, soon after the deed he felt a sharp pain in one of his fingers. A splint from the bamboo had pierced the flesh, and the place festered and hurt him very much.
The Rescue of Sita.[3]
Now the Rajah Jesrat had three wives: Kassilla, who had a son called Rāmā; Kakahi, who had two boys, Churat and Bhurat; and Samantra who had one son, Lakshman. Jesrat's finger was so painful that in order to try and draw out the splint his three wives took it in turn to suck the place, each keeping awake several hours in the night to perform this office. And when Kakahi, his second wife, was sucking, the splint came out, and the rajah experienced much relief and fell asleep. The next day he was very pleased, and bade Kakahi ask for whatever she would like and he would grant her wish. Kakahi at first replied she had diamonds, pearls, and gold, and in fact all she cared for already. But upon being pressed by her husband she at last said, "I should like the sons of your other wives, the youths Rāmā and Lakshman, to be driven away into the jungle, and only my two boys to be rearad up and kept in the palace." At this the rajah grieved greatly, but as he had given his word to grant her wish he agreed it should be done. One evening when Rāmā and Lakshman returned home together from a two days' chase they were refused admittance into the castle, and told they must forever remain outside its walls. Then Rāmā (he was married) called his wife Sita to come with him, and with his brother Lakshman returned to the jungle, where they made their abode. The two youths hunted all day long, leaving Sita hidden in their jungle home—not without warning her against a great giant, Ravan, who was always roving about the jungle in search of mischief. They made her promise not to talk to anybody when they, her protectors, were away, and never to move outside a certain mark. But one day Ravan disguised himself as a joghi,[4] and coming to Sita begged of her some fruit. She told him of her promise to her husband, so that she could not step outside the mark to give him fruit. Then the joghi fetched a log and set it on the mark. "Now you can cross," said he. This Sita did, and was immediately seized and carried off by the giant. Greatly grieved were the two brothers upon their return to find Sita gone. They guessed this was the deed of Ravan, and followed in his track by means of shreds and scraps of Sita's clothes which had been caught by the leaves and brambles as she was carried away. Next a little kite whom Ravan had attempted to kill called out to them from above their heads and gave them directions how to find the giant. At last they came to Ravan's country. Here Sita was kept prisoner for eleven years. She was treated by the giant as a daughter, and not unkindly; but she wanted to get away to her husband. And all these years there was great fighting between Ravan and his giant friends and Rāmā and Lakshman. At last the god Hanuman came to help the brothers. He was so strong he could root up whole trees and throw them about, and he would then turn himself into a tiny squirrel, to the astonishment of the giants upon seeing this little animal the only visible author of such fury. Unfortunately the giants succeeded in catching Hanuman and the brothers, and the former they decided to put to death. They were setting about this when the god cried out, "Oh! that is not the way. You must collect a lot of cotton wool, soak it in oil, put it round us in a ring, and then set fire to it." This the giants did, but the cotton had scarcely begun to burn when Hanuman caught up the two brothers and Sita, and with one great bound leapt outside the circle of cotton and ring of gazing giants and took them back to Jesrat's kingdom.
The Jackal and the Crocodile.
A crocodile and a jackal were once upon a time very good friends. The jackal often came down to the river to drink, and when he met his friend they conversed together. One day the jackal noticed on the other side of the river some splendid melons, which he at once greatly coveted. Dissembling his desires he said to the crocodile, "I wish I could get to the other bank of the river for a little change of air. I feel sure it would do me good, but how could I get there?" "Easily enough," replied the crocodile. "I will take you." So the jackal mounted astride his friend, and the crocodile swam across with him and brought him back again in the evening. The same thing took place next day, and the day after, and every day until the melons were all finished. And the jackal never brought any melons to his friend, nor told him anything about them, pretending all the time he took these excursions for the sake of his health. But it occurred to him one day he must offer to do the crocodile some service as a kind of return for all the latter had done for him. "Are you married?" he asked. "No," replied the crocodile. "I have never come across anybody to marry." "Oh, I'll manage a marriage for you," cried the jackal. "Rely upon me to find you a bride." But he never attempted to look for one, while the poor crocodile's expectations were raised, and he impatiently awaited his wedding day. But nothing happened, so at last the crocodile reproached his friend for not keeping his word, if only in return for so often being carried backwards and forwards across the river for fresh air. Upon this the jackal, afraid of being still further pressed, thought of a plan, and taking a dhobie's[5] stone, the large one upon which the clothes are beaten, together with the dhobie's stick for beating upon them, and a woman's skirt and sari which the dhobie had spread on the river banks to dry, he made up a figure of a woman. Then he went to the crocodile, told him that was his bride, and galloped away. The crocodile much pleased went up to the figure and addressed it—to receive no reply. He spoke again, with the same result. At last he grew angry and pulled at the skirt, when all came to pieces and he found he had been deceived. Furious at being thus taken in, he vowed vengeance on the jackal and determined to kill him. For some time the latter was shy of showing himself; but the crocodile knew he must come down to drink, and every evening he lay in wait for him, hiding amidst the roots of a tree on the river's edge. One night the jackal waded in close to where the crocodile was lurking. The latter immediately seized hold of his enemy's leg. "That is not my leg you think you've got hold of," cried the jackal, "but a piece of wood." Straightway the crocodile let go his hold and snapped at a piece of root near, and the jackal laughing heartily at the success of his ruse made off safe back into the jungle.[6]
The Bottle-bird and the Monkey.
The bottle-bird at the beginning of the rains taunted a monkey, crying out, "Why didn't you build yourself a house before the rainy season? Your hands are like a man's and your feet are like hands too. The rains will last four months, and you will be wet and uncomfortable all this time. It is stupid of you not to have built a house." The monkey upon this got angry, and climbing up to where the bottle-bird's nest was hanging, like a lady's pocket, from a branch, he pulled it down, and with his hands and feet tore it to pieces.[7]
The Sparrow and the Crow.
The sparrow once came to the crow, who was building her nest of salt, and said, "Give me a little salt. I have none wherewith to savour my curry and rice." But the crow refused her any. Now when the rains came on the salt of the crow's nest melted and her nest was all wet. So she went to the sparrow and said, "Let me have a place in your dry nest." But the sparrow replied, "When I wanted some salt you had none to give me, and now you want a dry spot I have none to give you."
- ↑ A bamboo crossing the shoulders like a yoke, from which at either end there hangs a basket by long cords, the whole resembling a large pair of scales. I have seen a native carry two children in a banghi.
- ↑ Hill station for Central India and the Central Provinces.
- ↑ An episode of the Rāmàvana. Jesrat=Dasaratha, Kassila=Kansalya, Kakahi=Kaikeya, Samantra=Sumitra.
- ↑ A Hindu religious mendicant.
- ↑ Washerman.
- ↑ Compare Miss Frere's Old Deccan Days, p. 279 (Story No. 24); also Jacobs' English Fairy Tales, p. 164 (Mr. Miacca).
- ↑ It is of course well known that monkeys make themselves no dwelling-place of any kind. The bottle-bird's nest is in the shape of an egg and quite a foot long. It has an entrance top and bottom, and, within, another entrance to a roofed partition in which is the actual nest.