Tales from the Indian Epics/The Frog King's Daughter
THE FROG KING'S DAUGHTER
Once upon a time there ruled in Ayodhya a great king named Parikshit[1] of the house of Ikshwaku. One day he went hunting and, wounding a stag, he galloped after it through the forest. The swiftness of his horse soon carried him far ahead of his attendants. Nevertheless he could not overtake the stag. At last his horse grew weary and could gallop no further. The king drew in his reins and, seeing a beautiful forest pool not far off, he rode towards it. Flinging aside his garments, he plunged into the pool and, when he had refreshed himself, bathed his horse also in the water. Then picketing the horse on the bank and throwing a bundle of lotus stalks in front of it, he lay down by its side and was soon fast asleep.
The king had been asleep for what seemed to him but a few minutes, when he woke up, hearing the most beautiful voice in the world singing a lilting melody. He rubbed his eyes and looked around him but could see no one. Yet the voice went on singing. At last the king sprang to his feet and pushed his way through the neighbouring bushes until he came to a tiny glade. It was carpeted with grass and wild flowers and a damsel of surpassing beauty was singing as she plucked the flowers. The king fell in love with her on the spot and thought to himself that unless she married him life would have no further pleasure for him. "Fair lady," he said, "who are you and what man is so lucky as to call you wife?" "Fair Sir," said the girl, "I am a maiden and no man's wife." "Then lovely maiden," said the king, "wed me and be Queen of Ayodhya." The damsel at first would not answer, but blushing looked shyly at the ground and then at the tall figure of the king. At last after King Parikshit had pressed her repeatedly for an answer she said: "O king, I can only be your queen on one condition." "I readily agree," said the king, "to any condition that you name, if only you will be my bride." "My condition is this," continued the maiden gravely; "never let me look at water on the ground." The king agreed and wedded her at once according to the rites of the Gandharva marriage. After the marriage was completed the royal attendants, who had been following the tracks of the king, came up. And King Parikshit showed them his royal bride and all the attendants paid her their homage. The king entered a palanquin with his bride and its porters carried them back to the city of Ayodhya. When King Parikshit reached the palace, such was his love for the beautiful forest maiden that he shut himself with her inside his own private rooms and would not receive any of his ministers or his officers of state. The chief minister, fearing for the safety of the kingdom, made secret enquiries of the women who waited on the new queen and asked them what kind of a woman she was. "O minister," said the palace women, "we do not ourselves know what sort of a woman she is. In beauty no maiden equals her. But she has exacted a strange promise from our lord, namely, that he should never allow her to look at water on the ground. Beyond this we know nothing." The chief minister went home. Next morning he gathered labourers together, and made a beautiful pleasure garden not far from the city. In it he planted noble trees 
KING PARIKSHIT AND THE FROG KING'S DAUGHTER
and mango orchards and row after row of flower beds. And far away in a corner of the grounds he dug a lake and filled it with water by turning a stream into it. When the work was finished he sought an audience of the king. Reluctantly the king left his beautiful bride and received his chief minister. "O King," said the minister, "the summer heat grows daily greater. I have made a pleasure garden not far from Ayodhya. It has noble trees and orchards and flower beds. And no water can be found anywhere in it. Therefore, O King, hasten there with your queen and pass the summer days pleasantly."
The king gladly accepted the minister's gift. Causing his chariot to be harnessed he drove with all speed to the minister's pleasure garden. And he took with him his lovely forest bride. For days together the king and the queen wandered through the garden marvelling at its beauty and at the, skill with which the chief minister's workmen had designed it. One day they strayed into the distant corner of the park, where the chief minister had dug a lake. At first they did not see it; the flowering shrubs grew so thickly along its banks. Then it happened that the king, pushing aside the foliage, forced his way to the edge of the lake. Its waters mirrored the deep blue of the sky and yet were so transparent that the king could see the fish swimming along the bottom of the lake or chasing each other just below the surface. Instantly a desire seized him to swim in its waters. For the day was hot and he was weary with walking through the great park. Stripping off his clothes, he plunged into the water and, swimming hither and thither, he called to his queen to follow him into the lake. Without a word the forest damsel came to the bank and plunged beneath the crystal waters with the skill of a practised swimmer. The king watched her with approval and waited for her to come once more to the surface. But she never came. Parikshit, fearing that she had been caught in some weeds, dived to the bottom of the lake. But although he swam with open eyes all over the bottom he saw his beautiful queen nowhere. At last, despairing and frightened, he swam to the bank, put on his clothes again, sent for his chariot and drove with all speed to Ayodhya. There he told the chief minister what had befallen the queen and, gathering together a great company of labourers, he had all the water of the lake pumped out. Nowhere, however, could the queen's body be found. There was nothing but a huge frog sitting by a hole. And when it saw the king it jumped into the hole and vanished.
Then the king turned in a fury to the chief minister saying, "That accursed frog is the cause of my sorrow. It seized my queen as she swam beneath the water, and tearing her in pieces devoured her. Do you now order my soldiers and subjects to kill all frogs wherever they see them. And proclaim to all those of my subjects who wish for an audience with me, or have petitions to present tome, that instead of the customary gift, they must bring as their offering a dead frog."
Then throughout the land of Ayodhya a fearful slaughter of frogs took place. King Parikshit's soldiers and subjects, hearing that a frog had devoured the queen, plunged into pools and marshes and cut to pieces all frogs that they found there. And all who wanted an audience of the king or desired to petition him, gladly brought him a dead frog instead of the customary present. Day after day the massacre of the frog people continued, until at last they went in a great body to their king Ayusha. "O king," cried the frog people, "intercede for us with King Parikshit. Otherwise, we shall soon all be destroyed by him and his soldiers."
The frog king pitied his people and disguising himself as a Brahman made his way to the palace of King Parikshit. Because of his holy garb, the guards did not require a dead frog from Ayusha, and he soon stood face to face with Parikshit.
"O Brahman," asked the king, "what is it that you desire?"
"Great king," replied Ayusha, "I pray you to forget your anger and to stop killing the frog people. They have done you no wrong. You should therefore order their slaughter to cease."
"O Brahman," retorted King Parikshit, "the frog people have done me a great wrong. One of that accursed race devoured my queen, whom I loved better than life itself. It is useless, venerable man, to plead for them, for while I live I shall not stop killing them."
"Great king," replied Ayusha, "have mercy on the frog people. I am their king and I am named Ayusha. The maiden whom you married was my daughter Sushavana. She is still alive, for she deceived you, as she has often deceived others. Therefore banish her from your mind; she is not worthy of you."
But King Parikshit paid no attention to the words of Ayusha the frog king. He longed to see the maid whom he had loved in the forest. "No, King Ayusha," he said, "even though she has deceived me and others like me, I love her and I desire her back. Give her to me and I shall forgive her the trick that she played on me." King Ayusha left King Parikshit's palace and in a short space returned, holding his lovely daughter by the hand. King Parikshit was overjoyed at the sight of the queen. He bowed low before the frog king and in a voice choked with tears of happiness, he said, "O King Ayusha, you have conferred on me the greatest boon in all the world." King Ayusha bowed in return. But when he bade farewell to Queen Sushavana he looked at her with a frowning brow, and cursing her he said, "Because you have tricked this noble king and other noble kings before him the sons whom you bear to him will be haters of Brahmans." With these words King Ayusha went back to his home among the frog people.
II
In the course of three years Queen Sushavana bore three splendid sons to King Parikshit. The king named them Sala, Dala and Vala. When they had grown to manhood King Parikshit fell ill. And feeling death drawing near he decided to go into the forest, after the manner of Aryan princes, to be an anchorite until his life left him. He, therefore, called together his ministers and in his own place installed on the throne his eldest son Prince Sala. Then Parikshit and Sushavana walked together into the forest; and neither he nor she returned again to Ayodhya.
After Prince Sala had become king he devoted many hours of the day to hunting. Once, as he hunted, he wounded a stag and tried to overtake it in his chariot. But he could not draw near to the stag and at last his horses, tired with the chase, could go no further. The king bade his charioteer urge them with his whip. But the charioteer answered, "O king, the horses are wearied to death. They will never overtake the stag. You would catch it only if you had Vami horses yoked to your chariot." King Sala turned sharply to his charioteer saying, "Tell me where I can get Vami horses." But the charioteer, fearing the anger of the sage Vamadeva who owned them, held his peace. The king grew angry and lifting his sword cried, "Unless you tell me instantly where I can obtain Vami horses, I will kill you with my sword."
The charioteer, frightened at the threat said, "O king spare me and I will tell you. Vami horses are the horses of the sage Vamadeva."
"Drive directly to the hermitage of the sage Vamadeva," answered the king, putting back his sword. The charioteer obeyed and not long afterwards the tired horses drew the king's chariot to Vamadeva's home. The sage welcomed the king and asked him what he wanted.
"Venerable Sir," said the king, "I have wounded a stag and my horses have tried in vain to catch it. I beg you to lend me your Vami horses so that I may catch the stag."
The rishi answered, "O King, I will gladly lend you my Vami horses, and they will certainly overtake the wounded stag. But give me first your royal word that when you have killed the stag, you will give me back my horses." The king gave his royal word. His charioteer led the Vami horses from Vamadeva's stable and yoked them to King Sala's chariot. They bounded after the deer as swiftly as thought, and in but a little time the king had overtaken it and killed it with an arrow. Then a wicked thought entered his mind because of the curse of Ayusha the frog king. "These Vami horses," King Sala said to his charioteer, "are too good for a Brahman. They are fit only for the royal stables." Thus breaking his royal word, he caused the Vami horses to be kept in the king's stalls at Ayodhya.
The sage Vamadeva marvelled that King Sala did not send back the Vami horses. Then he thought, "The king is young and is loth to part with them. He will in time remember his promise and will send them back to my hermitage." The sage waited a month in vain. Then he sent his pupil Atreya, who humbly asked King Sala to restore his Vami horses to Vamadeva. But King Sala scornfully answered Atreya, "Good Sir, what need has Vamadeva of Vami horses? A Brahman needs no horses like these that are swifter than the wind. They rightly belong to a Kshatriya king. I regard them as mine and I shall not give them back to Vamadeva."
Atreya returned sorrowfully to Vamadeva and gave him the king's message. Vamadeva grew very angry, and went himself to Ayodhya and obtained an audience of the king.
"King Sala," he said, "give me back my Vami horses, otherwise you will bring my curse and your destruction on yourself."
"O Vamadeva," said King Sala scornfully, "you who are a Brahman have no need of Vami horses. Take in their place two docile bulls or four mules or four asses. But the Vami horses are now mine and I shall never return them to you."
The sage looked angrily at the king and was about to curse him. Then he pitied Sala's youth and beauty and said, "O king, when I gave you the Vami horses, you gave me your royal word that you would restore them to me. Do not call down punishment on yourself by breaking the promise of an Aryan king."
"O Vamadeva," said King Sala, "Vami horses are hunting horses. A Kshatriya only is permitted to hunt. You cannot own such horses. So go away, and vex me no more."
Vamadeva's anger rose against the lying king. "By the vows I have kept," he cried, "and the penances that I have undergone, let four hideous, armed demons rise from the earth and kill you, O king, and afterwards hew your body into four pieces."
"Good Vamadeva," laughed Sala scornfully, "call up your demons if you will, and my soldiers will kill them and you also with your disciples. For a Brahman who wishes to take life is an evil Brahman; I shall thus incur no sin by causing your death."
As the words left the king's lips, four hideous demons rose from the ground and rushed towards King Sala with raised lances. Even then the sage would have spared King Sala. But the king called out defiantly, "Though all the heroes of the house of Ikshwaku bade me free your Vami horses, even then I would not free them." Vamadeva, hearing him, no longer pitied him, and the four demons rushing at King Sala drove their lances into him and hewed him into four pieces. The rishi Vamadeva then returned to his forest home and the men of Ayodhya made King Sala's brother, Prince Dala, king over them.
Vamadeva waited for a month but King Dala did not return him the Vami horses. So the sage once more went to Ayodhya and obtained an audience of the king.
"O king," he said, "if you are afraid to sin, give me back my Vami horses. For they are mine, and in keeping them you act unjustly."
King Dala bade his charioteer bring him his bow and quiver. Taking from the quiver a poisoned arrow, he said, "I will shoot Vamadeva with my arrow, and as he lies on the ground I will have him torn in pieces by dogs."
"Beware, O king," answered Vamadeva; "the arrow which you aim at me will pierce the heart of your ten-year-old son."
But King Dala scorned the rishi's words, and the arrow, passing by Vamadeva, entered the inner room where the young prince was, and pierced him to the heart. King Dala, more angered than before, took another poisonous arrow from his quiver and aimed it at Vamadeva. But Vamadeva said, "O king, you cannot shoot the arrow at me." And as he spoke he cast a spell over the king, so that he could not bend the bow. Then King Dala saw that it was useless to strive against Vamadeva. "O Vamadeva," he said, "you have overcome me. May your years be many."
Vamadeva pitied King Dala as he had pitied his brother and he said, "Touch your Queen Senajata with your arrow and you will be forgiven your sin." King Dala obeyed the rishi's words. Senajata then said, "O Vamadeva, forgive my husband the king and teach him to grow in wisdom." "Fair queen," said Vamadeva, "you have saved the house of Ikshwaku by your words. Ask me a boon and it shall be granted to you."
"Holy sir," replied the queen, "the boon that I ask of you is this. Free my husband and his house from the curse which Ayusha the frog king cast upon them, because of Sushavana's conduct." "So be it," said the rishi. Then going into the inner room he drew the poisoned arrow from the young prince's heart and restored him to life. Seeing this, King Dala bowed to Vamadeva's feet and bade his charioteer restore the Vami horses to the rishi.
- ↑ This Parikshit was not Parikshit the Bharata the grandson of Arjuna, but of the house of Ikshwaku, that is to say of the same line as that in which the hero Ramachandra was born.