Wonder Tales from Tibet/The Clever Prince and the Stupid Brother
WONDER TALES
FROM TIBET
THE CLEVER PRINCE AND THE STUPID BROTHER
Long years ago there lived in the Far East a Prince and his Brother, sons of the Great Khan. The Prince was a wise and clever youth, but his Brother was stupid and ignorant beyond belief. The Khan tried in vain to have this lazy fellow educated and finally, when all else had failed, sent him to school to seven learned magicians who lived in a cave on the outskirts of his realm. There was nothing in the way of magic, either white or black, good or evil, which these seven wise men did not know, but because they had wicked, cruel hearts, they left the good alone and practiced their art only for selfish and evil purposes. They took the stupid Brother because the Khan bade them do so, and they promised to teach him all the art of magic, but inwardly they resolved that he should learn none of it and merely be their tool and helper. And so it was. For seven years the stupid Brother worked with the magicians, and in all that time he learned not one thing, so that at the end he knew no more than at the beginning. His brother, the Prince, thinking that all might not be well, went one day to the cave and stood all day long at the door, watching his Brother and the seven wise men at work. And so very quick and clever he was that at the end of the day he had mastered no small bit of the art of magic himself. Seeing, however, how things stood with his Brother, and that it was useless for him to remain longer, he bade him come away, and the two straightway set off together toward their home.
The mind of the Prince was full of the wonderful secrets of magic which he had just learned, and he was eager to try his power and skill at the game; so at length, as they neared the palace,—"Brother," said he, "go you to the old stable behind the hill, and there you will find a splendid steed as white as milk. I pray you, lead him gently to market, sell him, and bring the money to me, but remember this: on no account let him take you near the cave of the seven magicians!"
"Willingly," said the stupid Brother, and off he set for the stable. He was too slow and dull to be really surprised at seeing a fine white horse standing unhitched in an open stall where there had been no horses before; he only thought what a great pity it would be to sell the animal as the Prince had bidden him. Far better would he like to keep it for himself. At any rate, he would take a ride first and perhaps go to the cave and show his new possession to his friends, the wise men. Scarcely had he formed this thought in his mind and leaped upon the steed's back, when the animal dashed off, swift as the wind, down the road which led to the cave of the wizards. Too late did the stupid Brother remember the Prince's warning to avoid that place of all others; he could not turn the horse to right or left, or slacken his speed until at length he stopped of his own accord right in front of the door of the cave. The lad got down and tried to turn the horse's head and lead him home; he coaxed and scolded and even beat and kicked the poor beast, but all to no avail. Then, looking up, he spied the seven magicians standing in a row and smiling at him.
"It is useless," said one, "you will never get that horse beyond our gate, so you might as well sell him to us."
"Very well," said the stupid Brother sulkily, giving a final kick. "How much will you give me for him?"
Now the magicians knew that this was no ordinary horse, but in reality the Prince, who had changed himself thus in order to test his skill in magic.
By their charms and spells they had drawn him straight to their cave, for they were not at all pleased to find he had learned the secret of their magic, and now they were minded to destroy him if they could. So they bargained with the stupid Brother for the horse, paid him a good price and sent him away, never dreaming that he was in reality leaving the Prince behind him.
"Alas!" thought the poor Prince, "now is my last hour come! By all the hidden powers of magic, I wish that some living creature would come by into which I could transform myself and so escape!"
Before the cave of the magicians flowed a brook, and the Prince had no sooner formed this wish in his heart than a tiny fish came swimming by. Quick as a flash, the great white steed disappeared, for the Prince had changed himself into the little minnow and was swimming rapidly away. The magicians saw their prey disappearing and immediately transformed themselves into seven larger fish and gave chase. In and out among the shallows and deep pools they flashed, the little fish and the seven great ones after it, on and on, and ever the great fish gained upon the little one, until the foremost of the seven could almost seize it in his mouth.
"Alack-a-day!" sighed the Prince, "now indeed is my last hour come! By all the power of magic spells, I wish that some living creature would come by into which I could transform myself and so escape!"
He had scarcely uttered this wish to himself when a white bird flew low over the brook, and in a flash the minnow was gone, and the Prince was flying swiftly over the fields in the form of a white dove. But he was none too quick, for the seven magicians had become seven great hawks and were circling over him. The Prince sped on like the wind over hills and valleys, on and on until at length, quite out of breath and spent, he came to a tall shining mountain. In the heart of this mountain was a cave wherein dwelt a hermit, a wise and good man, whose name was Nagarguna. To this refuge the Prince now sped, and the hawks were almost upon him when he flew against the rough wooden door of the cave and beat his wings wildly upon it. Nagarguna opened it, the dove flew in and fell exhausted upon the floor.
"What is the matter, little creature?" said the hermit, picking up the white bird and holding him gently in his hands.
"I am pursued!" gasped the Prince, "my life is in great danger. I pray you, good master, hear me, and do what I bid you, that my life may be saved!" He paused to take a breath, and in that moment there came a knocking at the door of the cave which had swung to after the Prince had entered.
"Even now," continued the Prince, "there stand seven men without, clothed in white. Before you open the door to them, let me change myself into the largest bead in that chaplet which you wear around your neck. When they come in, they will ask you for it. Give them the beads, but before you do so, break the string on which they are strung so that they will fall to the ground. If you do this, I can do the rest by my power of magic."
Meanwhile the knocking upon the door grew louder and louder, and so, hastily promising to do as the Prince had said, Nagarguna opened it. Without stood seven men with white hair and long white cotton robes. Very old and wise they looked, but their eyes were wicked.
"What would you, sirs? " said Nagarguna. They stepped into the cave and, looking sharply around, spied the chaplet of beads about the hermit's neck. The white dove, of course, had vanished by this time.
"I pray you," said the foremost of the seven men, "let us have the chaplet that hangs about your neck. We have long heard the fame of you, have come from afar to see you, and would greatly like to carry away a token from you."
"Gladly will I give it to you," said the hermit, but in slipping the chaplet from his neck he managed to break the string, and the beads went clattering to the floor, all but the largest one, which still clung to the string. And all the little beads became worms and wriggled upon the ground, and the seven magicians changed themselves into seven large fowls and began pecking at the worms until they were all eaten up. Then, at length, the largest bead fell, and scarcely had it touched the earth before it became a youth, the Prince himself, who stood straight, tall and fair, with a staff in his hands. With this he slew the seven fowls quickly, one by one, and cast them out of the cave, where they became the dead bodies of the seven wicked magicians. Then he turned back, weary and exhausted, into the cave, but Nagarguna looked upon him coldly and with displeasure.
"You have done evil, my son," said he, "for you have taken life, even the lives of seven men; and it will not easily be forgiven you."
The Prince bowed his head humbly before Nagarguna. "Truly," said he, "I did not wish the death of these men, but they wickedly sought my life. Only to defend myself from a like fate did I lift my hand to slay another."
"Even so," replied Nagarguna, "and well I know your heart is not evil, and that only because you knew of no better way to defend yourself did you resort to barbarous killing. But by knowledge, my son, are all good things accomplished, all wrong ones avoided. Had your knowledge been perfect, you would not have found it necessary to take the life of any living creature, even in self-defense."
"Then, Father," said the Prince, "let me stay with you and learn true wisdom. I am sorry for this wrong, done in ignorance, and any task, no matter how hard, which you want me to perform, I will do faithfully to show my true repentance."
"Well said!" And Nagarguna smiled upon the Prince. "If you keep this spirit of humility within you, when the time has come for you to rule this land, you will be a wise and good king, and your people will be happy and prosperous beneath your sway. Come, now, I will tell you a task worthy a brave man's strength and skill, and when you shall have accomplished it, you shall dwell with me and learn wisdom until it is time for you to be king over your people."
The Prince and the hermit forthwith sat down side by side upon the rough floor of the cave (for it was quite bare of furnishings) and Nagarguna told of the great work which the Prince was to do.
"There is," said he, "in a very far country a creature called the Siddhi-kur. Very strange he is, being gold from his waist up, emerald from his waist down, with a head that looks like mother-of-pearl and a shining crown upon it. The Siddhi-kur is a creature of magic—good magic—and the land wherein he is shall be blessed with knowledge, wealth and long life. Now, if you can capture the Siddhi-kur and bring him to me, we will place him in a cool grove here upon this shining mountain, and then our people in the valley, your people and my people, will be mightily blessed above all others. They shall have gold in abundance, and what is far better, they shall have a great store of wisdom and knowledge, and long life in which to use it."
"That is indeed a noble task," said the Prince, " and with great joy will I undertake it. Only tell me how I may reach the Siddhi-kur and how he may be captured."
"Mark well my words," replied the hermit, "and I will tell you all."
For an hour or more they talked, and Nagarguna told the Prince how he should go to find the Siddhi-kur, of all the dangers he would meet by the way and how he should overcome them. And the Prince plied him with many questions and put away carefully in his mind all the directions and warnings that were given him. At length the master arose and, going into a dark recess of the cave, brought forth an axe, a sack, a cord and a basket. These he spread out before the Prince.
"In this basket," said he, handing it to the lad, "are the magic barley corns which you will use as I have directed you, and also a cake which grows not less, no matter how much you eat of it. The cake will keep you from hunger as the barley corns will keep you from fear." Then, picking up the axe, the sack and the cord, he continued, "When at length you have found the Siddhi-kur, do not fail to tell him that this is the magic axe 'White Moon,' that this sack is the marvelous sack of many colors, in which, though it appears so small, there is space to stow away a hundred creatures, and that, finally, this is the cord of a hundred threads, each one different in hue, and each strong enough to bind and hold the mightiest ox. When you have shown him all these things, he will yield himself quietly to you. Arise then, my son, and start upon your way, and peace and good fortune attend you!"
The Prince arose, his heart high with courage, and slinging the sack, cord and axe over his shoulder, the basket on his arm, he turned to bid Nagarguna farewell.
"One thing more," said the hermit, "and this is more important than all else that I have told you. When once you have got the Siddhi-kur upon your back and are returning to me, remember, open not your lips nor say one word for any cause whatever until you have reached the door of my cave and have given the Siddhi-kur into my keeping!"
Promising to remember this above all else, the Prince bade good-by to Nagarguna, receiving his blessing again, and set forth with a quick step and a light heart upon his great adventure. THE PRINCE AND THE SIDDHI-KUR
Northward went the Prince, northward in a straight line as the crow flies, though the way was hard and rough, and many times he could find no shelter from storm and night. At length, when he had traveled a hundred miles, he came to a valley, deep and dark and mysterious. This, he knew, was the spot where Nagarguna had warned him he would meet with his first adventure. Gripping his sack, axe, cord and basket with a firm hand, he climbed down the rocky sides, though it grew ever darker and darker as he descended. The loose stones slipped from beneath his feet, and a great roaring sound filled his ears as he neared the bottom, where a muddy river rushed along. At last he reached the bank of this stream and stood there, wondering at the noise and rush of it and at the strange half-darkness that surrounded him. Suddenly the noise grew greater, and from the stream, the banks of the ravine, and seemingly from the air itself appeared great ghostly forms, very tall and fierce, and they rushed upon the Prince as though to kill him.
"These are the ghosts of giants who lived long ages ago," thought the lad, remembering Nagarguna's words. "I must not fear them!" And covering his eyes with his sleeve, he scattered a few grains of the magic barley corn in the air and waited, listening. The strange, ghostly sounds grew less, and even the roar and rush of the torrent seemed to become more distant. For some little time the Prince waited, with his sleeve across his eyes, and when the noise had grown quite faint and indistinct, he looked around him. No longer was he standing at the bottom of the dark valley with the muddy river rushing beside him! To his astonishment, he found himself, instead, on the top of a hill on the opposite side of it; the sunlight was bright and warm upon him, and an open meadow land sloped gently away before him. Casting one look down into the depths, at the muddy, horrible stream far below, he turned his back upon it with a sigh of relief.
"There is one adventure safely passed!" said he to himself, and trudged onward.
Again there was a long journey, and sometimes the way was rough and hard, and sometimes it was pleasant and easy. But northward still it lay in a straight line, and the Prince was weary enough when he had gone another hundred miles and had come to the second stage of his adventure.
He had reached a broad meadow full of tall lank grass, with a little stream winding through the center of it. On the bank of this quiet meadow brook he stood and gazed around, wondering, for the sunlight, so bright a moment ago, seemed to be fading. The soft babbling of the water grew suddenly loud and harsh, the air dark and murky, and there darted from the tall, rank grass on every side a throng of strange, ghostly figures. Very small they were and dim and vague, but their faces were ugly, and they swarmed around the Prince in countless numbers, as if they would cover and overwhelm him. He bent his head and gasped for breath, muttering to himself, "These must be they of whom Nagarguna told me, the ghosts of wicked dwarfs who lived and died long years ago!" He covered his eyes with his sleeve and cast the magic barley corn in the air, then waited, listening. The noise of the stream died down, and the sound of the rushing, ghostly forms ceased; and when the Prince looked about him again, he found himself on the other side of the little winding stream, with the sunlight pouring down upon him and the tall grass waving at his feet.
"There is my second adventure safely passed!" thought he, and turning his back upon the meadow and brook, he journeyed on.
Northward he traveled still, and if the way had been hard before, it was ten times harder now. Over rugged crags the Prince scrambled, across bare deserts where there was no water and no rest for his burning feet,—only sand, sand, sand and a tiresome wind. On and on he went until at last another hundred miles had been left behind him, and he saw lying just ahead a beautiful garden. As the Prince entered it, he thought that never before had he seen anything half so lovely. Strange, brilliant flowers grew in rich profusion on all sides, filling the air with a soft, sweet fragrance. Birds with bright plumage flashed by, and the sound of their incessant sweet singing mingled with the splash of water in an unseen fountain. The Prince loitered along the path delighted, drinking in eagerly all the beauty of sight and sound and scent. At length, turning a corner, he came upon the fountain sparkling in the sun. Crystal clear it was and very beautiful, and beside it was a marble bench looking cool and restful. The Prince sank down upon it, for he felt suddenly very weary, but scarcely had he seated himself before the sunlight disappeared and a strange half darkness covered him. The sound of the splashing water grew louder, but it was very pleasant to hear, and mingled with it was a whispering and pattering as of small voices and tiny feet, and a brushing as of garments against the bushes. He looked around him and then stood up the better to see. From behind every flower and bush danced forth a little form, shimmery and indistinct but beautiful beyond belief.
"Oh, you lovely, lovely creatures!" exclaimed the Prince aloud. "But I must not look at you, for truly you must be they of whom the master told me,—the ghosts of little children who lived and died long years ago and were forgotten!"
Slowly and reluctantly the Prince, covering his eyes with his sleeve, cast the magic barley corns in the air and waited. The little silken sounds ceased, the splash of the water grew softer, and when he looked about him again he found himself standing on the other side of the fountain, with the garden behind him and a cool shady grove in front of him. And by a tree at the entrance to the grove, looking at him, stood the Siddhi-kur!
The Prince knew him at once by the shining gold and the emerald green of his body, by his head which looked like mother-of-pearl, and by the fair gold crown upon it. As he was looking at him, the Siddhi-kur turned and fled, and the Prince ran after him. Deep into the grove they sped, this way and that, and a long chase they had of it, until at last the Siddhi-kur reached the middle of the grove where stood his favorite mango tree, and before the Prince could touch him, he had climbed up to the very top of it, and there he sat, looking down and laughing.
The Prince waited only to catch his breath, and then, seizing his axe, he raised it high above his shoulder, exclaiming, "Oh, Siddhi-kur, come down! Nagarguna, the hermit, has need of you! Come down, I pray you, or with my magic axe, 'White Moon,' I will fell your mango tree!"
"Nay, do not so!" cried the Siddhi-kur, gazing in terror at the uplifted axe. "Do not cut down my mango tree with the terrible 'White Moon'; much rather would I descend to you!"
"Come, then, quickly!" said the Prince, laying aside his axe and picking up the sack and cord. On seeing these, the Siddhi-kur hastily climbed down from the tree and stood beside the Prince, trembling.
"See, now," continued the lad, holding the sack wide open. "Resistance is useless, for here I have the magic sack of many colors, in which, though it looks so small, is space to stow away a hundred creatures. You shall ride in it upon my back, and the neck of it shall be tied around your neck with this magic cord of a hundred threads, each of a different kind, and each strong enough to bind an ox. Be content, then, come with me, and you shall dwell happily in a cool grove on the shining mountain, beside the good Nagarguna."
The Siddhi-kur sighed deeply. "Resistance is indeed vain!" said he, "since you have the axe, the sack and the cord. So take me on your back and let us be about our way, for he who cannot mend his fortunes should make the best of them."
The Prince was overjoyed that his adventure should be thus accomplished so easily, and without more ado he settled the Siddhi-kur comfortably in the sack, tied the mouth of it with the cord of a hundred threads, balanced it upon his back, and picking up the axe, "White Moon," started on his homeward journey. Very proud he felt, and very well satisfied. He ate of the magic cake which grew not less, and being much refreshed, he walked bravely along, though the way was twice as hard as it had been before, owing to the heavy burden on his back.
After they had proceeded a long way in silence, the Siddhi-kur spoke:
"Of a truth," said he, "the way is long and I grow weary. I pray you, Prince, tell me now a tale, that the hours may seem the shorter to us both."
But the Prince, remembering how Nagarguna had bade him above all else not to open his lips on the homeward way, merely shook his head and said nothing.
"Oh," said the Siddhi-kur, "the Prince is wise beyond his years! He has learned the lesson of silence! Keep, then, your thoughts to yourself, but if you are minded to listen, I will tell you a story, a wonder tale, which will make the time pass quickly and pleasantly. Only nod your head, if you are willing, and I will begin."
Now the Prince was very weary, and the hours seemed long indeed. "Surely," he thought, "there can be no harm in merely listening, and perhaps the Siddhi-kur can tell a wonderful tale which it will be pleasant and profitable to hear." So he nodded assent, and the Siddhi-kur straightway began.