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Title: Santal Folk Tales
Author: Campbell, A.
Language: English
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Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

*** Start of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Santal Folk Tales" ***

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                           SANTAL FOLK TALES.

                      Translated from the Santali

                              A. CAMPBELL,

                Free Church of Scotland Santal Mission,

                         Santal Mission Press,


                  Printed at the Santal Mission Press,



Of late years the Folk tales of India have been the subject of much
study and research, and several interesting collections of them have
been published. But I am not aware that as yet the folk lore of the
Santals, has received the attention which it deserves. The Santals
as a people, have, to a remarkable degree, succeeded in resisting the
subtle Hinduising influences to which they have long been exposed, and
to which such a large number of aboriginal tribes have succumbed. They
have retained their language, institutions, tribal organization, and
religion almost intact. Their traditions show the jealousy with which
these have been guarded, and the suspicion and distrust with which
contact with their Aryan neighbours was regarded. The point at which
they have been most accessible to outward influence and example, is
in their relations with the aboriginal tribes, who in a more or less
degree have merged themselves in Hinduism. Hindu ideas, customs and
beliefs, filtering through these tribes, became considerably modified
before they reached the Santals, and were therefore less potent in
their effects than if they had been drawn from the fountain head of
Hinduism itself. Still, in respect to their aboriginal neighbours
they are always on their guard, ready to repel any innovation on
their customs or religion with which they may be threatened. In the
folk tales of such a people we may well expect to find something,
if not altogether new, still interesting and instructive from an
ethnological point of view, and this expectation, I believe, would be
abundantly gratified if they were only made accessible to those who,
by training and study, are competent to deal with them.

Santal folk-tales may be divided into two classes--those apparently
purely Santal in their origin, and those obtained from other
sources. Those of the first class are by far the more numerous,
and besides showing the superstitious awe with which the Santals
regard the creations of their own fancy, they throw a flood of
light upon the social customs and usages of this most interesting
people. The second class embraces a large number of the more popular
tales current among the Hindus and semi-Hinduised aborigines. These,
although adapted and modified by the Santals to suit their language,
modes of thought, and social usages, may generally be detected by the
presence of proper names, or untranslatable phrases which unmistakably
indicate the source from which they have been derived.

These tales were taken down in Santali at first hand, and are therefore
genuine and redolent of the soil. In translating them I have allowed
myself considerable latitude without in any way diverging so far from
the original as to in any degree impair their value to the student
of Indian Folk-lore.

It was to be expected that in the popular tales of a simple, unpolished
people like the Santals, expressions and allusions unfitted for ears
polite would be found. In all such cases the changes which have been
made are in accord with Santal thought and usage, so that the tales
are, notwithstanding these alterations, thoroughly Santali.

I have aimed at making these Santal Folk-tales, in their English dress,
true to the forests and hills of their nativity. I am not without hope,
that in this I have succeeded in some small degree.

A number of the tales included in this volume have already appeared
in the Indian Evangelical Review, but in this collected form they
are more likely to prove of service to those who take an interest in
the subject.

This volume of Santal Folk-Tales is offered as a humble contribution
to the Folk-lore of India.



    The Magic Lamp                                   1
    The Two Brothers, Jhorea and Jhore               6
    The Boy and his Stepmother                      15
    The Story of Kara and Guja                      18
    The King and his inquisitive Queen              22
    The Story of Bitaram                            25
    The Story of Sit and Bosont                     33
    The Story of a Tiger                            40
    Story of a Lizard, a Tiger, and a lame Man      42
    The Story of a Simpleton                        45
    A Thief and a Tiger                             49
    The Magic Fiddle                                52
    Gumda the Hero                                  57
    Lipi and Lapra                                  62
    The Story of Lelha                              65
    The Story of Sindura Gand Garur                 89
    The Tiger and Ulta's Mother                     93
    The Greatest Cheat of Seven                     98
    The Story of Two Princesses                    102
    Seven Brothers and their Sister                106
    The Story of Jhore                             111
    The Girl who always found helpers              119
    A Simple Thief                                 125



In the capital of a certain raja, there lived a poor widow. She had
an only son who was of comely form and handsome countenance. One
day a merchant from a far country came to her house, and standing
in front of the door called out, "dada, dada," (elder brother). The
widow replied, "He is no more, he died many years ago." On hearing
this the merchant wept bitterly, mourning the loss of his younger
brother. He remained some days in his sister-in-law's house, at the
end of which he said to her, "This lad and I will go in quest of the
golden flowers, prepare food for our journey." Early next morning they
set out taking provisions with them for the way. After they had gone
a considerable distance, the boy being fatigued said, "Oh! uncle I can
go no further." The merchant scolded him, and walked along as fast as
he could. After some time the boy again said, "I am so tired I can go
no further." His uncle turned back and beat him, and he, nerved by
fear, walked rapidly along the road. At length they reached a hill,
to the summit of which they climbed, and gathered a large pile of
firewood. They had no fire with them, but the merchant ordered his
nephew to blow with his mouth as if he were kindling the embers of
a fire. He blew until he was exhausted, and then said, "What use is
there in blowing when there is no fire?" The merchant replied "Blow,
or I shall beat you." He again blew with all his might for a short
time, and then stopping, said, "There is no fire, how can it possibly
burn?" on which the merchant struck him. The lad then redoubled his
efforts, and presently the pile of firewood burst into a blaze. On
the firewood being consumed, an iron trap-door appeared underneath the
ashes, and the merchant ordered his nephew to pull it up. He pulled,
but finding himself unable to open it, said, "It will not open." The
merchant told him to pull with greater force, and he, being afraid lest
he should be again beaten, pulled with all his might, but could not
raise it. He again said, "It will not open," whereupon the merchant
struck him, and ordered him to try again. Applying himself with all
his might, he at length succeeded. On the door being raised, they saw
a lamp burning, and beside it an immense quantity of golden flowers.

The merchant then said to the boy, "As you enter do not touch any of
the gold flowers, but put out the lamp, and heap on the gold tray as
many of the gold flowers as you can, and bring them away with you." He
did as he was ordered, and on reaching the door again requested his
uncle to relieve him of the gold flowers, but he refused, saying,
"Climb up as best as you can." The boy replied, "How can I do so,
when my hands are full?" The merchant then shut the iron trap door
on him, and went away to a distant country.

The boy being imprisoned in the dark vault, wept bitterly, and having
no food, in a few days he became very weak. Taking the lamp in his
hand, he sat down in a corner, and without knowing what he was doing,
began to rub the lamp with his hand. A ring, which he wore on his
finger, came into contact with the lamp, and immediately a fairy
issued from it, and asked, "What is it you want with me?" He replied,
"Open the door and let me out." The fairy opened the door, and the
boy went home taking the lamp with him. Being hungry, he asked for
food, but his mother replied, "There is nothing in the house that I
can give you." He then went for his lamp, saying, "I will clean it,
and then sell it, and with the money buy food." Taking the lamp
in his hand he began to rub it, and his ring again touching it, a
fairy issued from it and said "What do you wish for?" The boy said
"Cooked rice and uncooked rice." The fairy immediately brought him
an immense quantity of both kinds of rice.

Sometime after this, certain merchants brought horses for sale, and
the boy seeing them wished to buy one. Having no money, he remembered
his lamp, and taking it up, pressed his ring against it, and the
fairy instantly appeared, and asked him what he wanted. He said,
"Bring me a horse," and immediately the fairy presented to him an
immense number of horses.

When the boy had become a young man, it so happened, that one day
the raja's daughter was being carried to the ghat to bathe, and he
seeing her palki with the attendants passing, went to his mother and
said, "I am going to see the princess." She tried to dissuade him,
but he insisted on her giving him permission, so at length she gave
him leave. He went secretly, and saw her as she was bathing, and
on returning home, said to his mother, "I have seen the princess,
and I am in love with her. Go, and inform the raja that your son
loves his daughter, and begs her hand in marriage." His mother said,
"Do you think the raja will consider us as on an equality with him?" He
would not, however, be gainsaid, but kept urging her daily to carry his
message to the raja, until she being wearied with his importunity went
to the palace, and being admitted to an audience, informed the raja
that her son was enamoured of the princess, his daughter, and begged
that she might be given to him in marriage. The raja made answer that
on her son giving him a large sum of money which he named, and which
would have been beyond the means of the raja himself, he would be
prepared to give his daughter in marriage to her son. The young man
had recourse to his lamp and ring, and the fairy supplied him with a
much larger sum of money than the raja had demanded. He took it all,
and gave it to the raja, who was astonished beyond measure at the
sight of such immense wealth.

After a reasonable time the old mother was sent to the raja to
request him to fulfil his promise, but he, being reluctant to see
his daughter united to one so much her inferior in station, in hope
of being relieved from the obligation to fulfil his promise, demanded
that a palace suited to her rank and station in life be prepared for
her, after which he would no longer delay the nuptials. The would-be
bridegroom applied to his never failing friends, his lamp and ring,
and on the fairy appearing begged him to build a large castle in
one night, and to furnish and adorn it as befitted the residence
of a raja's daughter. The fairy complied with the request, and the
whole city was amazed next morning at the sight of a lordly castle,
where the evening before there had not been even a hut. The dewan
tried to dissuade the raja, but without effect, and in due time the
marriage was celebrated amid great rejoicings.

On a certain day, some time after the marriage, the raja and his
son-in-law went to the forest to hunt. During their absence, the
merchant to whom reference has already been made, arrived at the castle
gate, bearing in his hand a new lamp which he offered in exchange to
the princess for any old lamp she might possess. She thought it a good
opportunity to obtain a new lamp in place of her husband's old one,
and without knowing what she did, gave the magic lamp to the merchant,
and received a new one in return. The merchant rubbed his ring on the
magic lamp, and the fairy obeyed the summons, and desired to know what
he wanted. He said, "Convey the castle as it stands with the princess
in it, to my own country," and instantly his wish was gratified.

When the raja and his son-in-law returned from the chase, they were
surprised and alarmed to find that the palace with its fair occupant
had vanished, and had not left a trace behind. The dewan reminded
his master that he had tried to dissuade him from rashly giving his
daughter in marriage to an unknown person, and had foretold that
some calamity was sure to follow. The raja being grieved and angry
at the loss of his daughter, sent for her husband, and said to him,
"I give you thirteen days during which to find my daughter. If you
fail, on the morning of the fourteenth, I shall surely cause you to
be executed." The thirteenth day arrived, and although her husband
had sought her every where, the princess had not been found. Her
unhappy husband resigned himself to his fate, saying, "I shall go
and rest, to-morrow morning I shall be killed." So he climbed to
the top of a high hill, and lay down to sleep upon a rock. At noon
he accidentally rubbed his finger ring upon the rock on which he
lay, and a fairy issued from it, and awaking him, demanded what
he wanted. In reply he said, "I have lost my wife and my palace,
if you know where they are, take me to them." The fairy immediately
transported him to the gate of his castle in the merchant's country,
and then left him to his own devices. Assuming the form of a dog,
he entered the palace, and the princess at once recognized him. The
merchant had gone out on business, and had taken the lamp with him,
suspended by a chain round his neck. After consultation, it was
determined that the princess should put poison in the merchant's
food that evening. When he returned, he called for his supper, and
the princess set before him the poisoned rice, after eating which
he quickly died. The rightful owner repossessed himself of the magic
lamp, and an application of the ring brought out the attendant fairy
who demanded to know why he had been summoned. "Transport my castle
with the princess and myself in it back to the king's country, and
place it where it stood before," said the young man; and instantly
the castle occupied its former position. So that before the morning
of the fourteenth day dawned, not only had the princess been found,
but her palace had been restored to its former place. The raja was
delighted at receiving his daughter back again. He divided his kingdom
with his son-in-law, giving him one-half, and they ruled the country
peacefully and prosperously for many years.


There were two brothers, whose parents died, leaving them orphans
when very young. The name of the elder was Jhorea, and of the younger
Jhore. On the death of their parents, the two brothers went to seek
employment, which they found in a certain village, far from where
their home had been. The elder, Jhorea, was engaged as a farm servant,
and the younger, Jhore, as village goat-herd.

After some time, it so happened that one day the brothers had no rice
for their dinner, and Jhorea said to his brother, "Go to the owners of
the goats you herd, and ask them for the hire they promised you. One
will give you a pai, another a pawa, and a third a paila, and so
on, according to the number of animals they have in your charge;
some will give you more and others less, bring what you get, and
cook some for dinner." The boy went as he was ordered, and entering
the first house he came to, said, "Give me a pai." They said: "What
do you want with a pai?" "Never mind what I want with it, give it,"
he replied. So they gave him a pai. Then he went to another house
and said, "Give me a pawa." "What do you want with a pawa?" they
said. "Never you mind, give it to me," and they gave him a pawa. He
then went to a third house and asked for a paila. "What do you want
with a paila?" they enquired. "Never you mind, give it to me," he
replied. Instead of bringing rice he brought the wooden measures, and
breaking them into small pieces, put them into the pot to cook. The
elder brother was ploughing, and being very hungry, he kept calling
out, "Cook the rice quickly, cook the rice quickly." His brother being
impatient, he stirred the contents of the pot with all his might, at
the same time exclaiming, "What can be the matter brother? it is very
hard." The elder brother came to see what was wrong, and on looking
into the pot saw only pieces of wood. He became very angry, and said,
"I sent you to bring rice, why did you bring measures?" To which he
replied, "You told me to ask a pai from one, a pawa from another,
and a paila from a third, and I did so."

The elder then said to the younger, "You go and plough, and if the
plough catch in a root on the right hand, cut the root on the left
hand, and if it catch in a root on the left side, cut the root on
the right side, and in the meantime I will cook." He went and began
to plough, and in a short time the plough caught in a root on the
right, and not understanding the directions given to him, he struck
the left hand bullock a blow on the leg with his axe. The bullock
limped along a short distance. When the plough caught in a root on
the left, he smote the bullock on the right, wounding it as he had
done the other. Both of the bullocks then lay down, and although he
beat them they did not get up. He therefore called to his brother,
"These bullocks have lain down, and will not get up, what shall I
do?" "Beat them," was the reply. Again he beat them, but with no
better result. The elder brother then came, and found that the oxen
had been maimed, and were unable to stand, at which he became greatly
alarmed, and said, "Why did you maim the oxen? The owners will beat
us to death to-day." He then gave him some parched grain to eat,
and sent him to look after his goats. The sun being hot, the goats
were lying in the shade chewing their cud. He sat down near them,
and began to eat the parched grain. Seeing the goats moving their
jaws as if eating, he said, "These goats are eating nothing, they
are lying there mocking me," and becoming enraged, he killed them
all with his axe. Then going to his brother, he said, "Oh! brother,
I have killed all the goats." His brother asked, "Why did you kill
them?" He replied, "While I was watching them and eating the parched
grain which you gave me, I saw them chewing, and as they were eating
nothing I knew they were mocking me, and so I killed them all." The
elder brother became greatly alarmed, and calling to the younger to
come, they quickly ate their dinner, and then went to where the goats
were lying dead. From among them they chose the fattest, and carried
it off to the jungle, where they flayed, and cut it into pieces.

Jhore then said, "I shall take the stomach as my share," but his
brother said, "No, let us take the flesh." Jhore, however, would not
agree to that, and at length his brother said, "Well you take the
stomach, I shall take the flesh." So each took what he fancied most,
and they set off. After travelling a long distance, they came to a
large tree growing on the side of the road, into which they climbed
for safety. After they had been some time on the tree, a raja on his
way to be married, lay down to rest in its shade, and when he and
his attendants had fallen asleep, Jhore let the goat's stomach fall
down on the raja. The raja having his rest thus rudely disturbed,
sprang to his feet, and calling out, awoke his servants, who seeing
the goat's stomach, and not knowing what had happened, thought the
raja himself had burst. They fled in terror followed by the raja,
and did not halt till they were many miles away from the scene of
the raja's discomfiture.

After waiting a little while, the brothers descended, and began to
help themselves to the raja's property. Jhore said, "I shall take the
drum." His brother said, "No, let us take the brass vessels and the
clothes." Jhore, however, insisted, and after considerable wrangling,
his brother said, "Well, take the drum if you will have it, I shall
take the brass vessels and the clothes." So each took what pleased
him best, and then they went away and hid in the jungle.

While walking about in the jungle, they collected bees, wasps, and
other stinging insects, and put them into the drum. Having filled the
drum, they emerged from the forest at a place where a washerman was
washing clothes. Jhore tore all his clothes into strips, and scattered
them about. The washerman went and told the raja that two persons
had come out from the jungle, and had destroyed all his clothes. On
hearing this, the raja said to his servants, "Come, and let us fight
with these two men." So arming themselves with guns, they went to the
tank where Jhorea and Jhore were sitting, and began to shoot at them,
but the bullets did them no harm. When their ammunition was exhausted,
they said, "Will you still fight?" The brothers answered, "Yes, we
will fight." So they began to fire their guns, and beat their drum,
and the bees and wasps issued from it like a rope, and began to sting
the raja and his soldiers, who to save themselves, lay down and rolled
on the ground. The raja, in anguish from the stings of the bees,
exclaimed, "I will give you my daughter, and half of my kingdom,
if you will call off the bees." Hearing this they beat the drum,
and calling to the bees and wasps, ordered them all to enter the drum
again, and the raja and his people went to their homes. The brothers
however, could not agree as to who should marry the princess. One said,
"You marry her." The other said, "No, you marry her." The younger at
length said to the elder, "You are the elder, you should take her,
as it is not fitting that you should beg. If I were to marry her,
I could no longer go about begging." So the elder brother married
the princess, and became the raja's son-in-law.

The two settled down there, and cultivated all kinds of crops. One
day the elder brother sent his younger brother to bring a certain
kind of grain. Taking a sickle and a rope to tie his sheaves with, he
went to the field. Arrived there, he found that the grain was covered
with insects. So he set fire to it, and while it was burning he kept
calling out, "Whoever desires to feast on roasted insects, let him
come here." When his brother knew what he had done, he reprimanded
him severely.

Some time afterwards, when the black rice was ripe, he again
ordered him to go and reap some, so getting a sickle, and rope to
bind his sheaves with, he went to the rice field. On looking about
to see where he would begin, he discovered that each stalk of rice
was covered with flies. "There is nothing here but flies. How can I
reap this?" Saying this, he set fire to the growing rice and burnt
it all to the ground. His brother, when he knew what had happened,
was very much displeased and threatened to beat him.

On another day he was sent to cut jari [1] to make ropes, so taking
his sickle, he set off to the field of jari. As soon as he began
to cut the stalks, the seeds rattled in the pods, hearing which he
stopped and called out, "Who is calling me?" After listening awhile
and hearing nothing he began again, and the same noise issuing from
the plant he was cutting, he said, "These plants are remonstrating
with me for cutting them." So being offended, he set fire to and
burnt down the whole crop of jari.

On being informed of his brother's action, Jhorea seized a stick,
and ran after him to beat him, but could not overtake him. In the
direction Jhore was running, there were some men flaying an ox, and
Jhorea called to them to lay hold of his brother. They could not,
however, accomplish this, but as he passed, they threw the stomach
of the ox at him, which he caught in his arms and carried away with
him. Finding a drain that was open at both ends, he crept in at one
end, and passed out at the other, but left the ox's stomach behind
him. His brother soon arrived at the drain, and thinking he was still
there, tried to drive him out by pushing in a stick, the sharp point
of which perforated the ox's stomach. On withdrawing the stick, and
seeing the contents of the ox's stomach adhering to it, he thought he
had pierced and killed his brother, but he having passed out at the
other end had run swiftly home, and hid himself among the rafters of
the house. Jhorea returned home weeping, and immediately began to make
the preparations necessary for Jhore's funeral ceremonies. He caused
a sumptuous feast to be got ready, and invited all his relations and
friends. When they were all assembled, he went into the house to offer
Jhore his portion. Presenting it, he said: "Oh! my brother Jhore, I
offer this to you, take it, and eat it." Jhore, from among the rafters
said, "Give it to me brother, and I shall eat it." His brother, not
expecting an answer, was alarmed, and fled to his friends without,
exclaiming, "Do the spirits of dead men speak? Jhore's speaks."

It now being dark, Jhore descended from his perch, and taking up the
food which had been cooked for his funeral feast, left the house
by another door. Passing on to the high way, he kept calling out,
"Travellers by the road, or dwellers in the jungle, if you require
food, come here." Some thieves hearing him, said, "Come, let us go and
ask some." So going to him they said, "Give us some too, Jhore." But
he replied, "It is for me alone." On their asking a second time,
he give it to them. After they had eaten it all, they said to him,
"Come, let us go a thieving." So they went to a house, and while the
thieves were searching for money, Jhore went and picked up small pieces
of pottery, and tied them up in his cloth. When they met afterwards,
seeing Jhore's bundle of what appeared like rupees, they said,
"You were not with us, where did you get the money?" Opening his
parcel, he shewed them the pieces of pottery, seeing which they said,
"We will not have you as our comrade." He replied, "Then return the
food which you ate." As they could not comply, they agreed to take
him with them. Jhore then said, "Where shall we go now?" They replied,
"To steal cloth." So they went to a house, and while the robbers were
searching for cloth, Jhore began to pull the clothes from off the
sleeping inmates. This awoke them, and starting up, they began to call
loudly for help. The thieves made off, and Jhore with them. Seeing
Jhore had spoiled their game, they said to him, "We will not allow
you to go with us again." He said, "Then give me back the food you
ate." Not being able to do so, they said, "Well, we will allow you
to accompany us this once." Jhore then said, "What shall we steal
now?" The thieves answered, "We shall now go to steal horses." So
they went to a stable, and each of the thieves helped himself to a
horse; but Jhore going behind the house, found a large tiger which he
saddled and mounted. The thieves also mounted each on the horse he
had stolen. As they rode along, Jhore's tiger sometimes went first,
and sometimes the thieves' horses. When the thieves were in front,
Jhore's tiger bit and scratched their horses, so they said to him,
"You ride first, we shall follow." But Jhore said, "No, my horse is a
Hindu horse, he cannot run in front, your horses are Santal horses,
they run well and straight, so you ride ahead." When day began to
dawn, Jhore's tiger evinced a tendency to leave the road and take to
the jungle, but Jhore holding him in, exclaimed, "Ha! ha! my Hindu
steed, ha! ha! my Hindu steed." When it was fully light, the tiger
ran into the jungle, and Jhore got caught in the branch of a tree,
and continued dangling there for some days.

It so happened that one morning a demon passing that way spied Jhore
dangling from the tree, and seizing him, put him in a bag and carried
him away. Being thirsty, he laid the bag down, and went to a spring
to drink. While he was absent, Jhore got out of the bag, and putting
a stone in instead, ran away. The demon having quenched his thirst,
returned, and lifting the bag carried it home. His daughter came to
welcome him, and he said to her, "Jhore is in the bag, cook him,
and we shall have a feast." He then went to invite his friends to
share it with him. When the demon's daughter had opened the bag,
she found the stone, and was angry, because her father had deceived
her. In a short time her father returned, bringing a large number of
jackals with him. He said to her, "Have you cooked Jhore?" She replied,
"Tush! tush! you brought me a stone."

The demon was highly incensed at having been outwitted, and exclaimed,
"I will track Jhore till I find him, and this time I shall bring him
home without laying him down." He then left, and before long found
Jhore swinging in the same branch as before. Catching hold of him, he
put him into a bag, the mouth of which he tied. This time he brought
him home without once laying him down. Calling to his daughter,
he said, "Cook Jhore, while I go to invite my friends." She untied
the bag, and took Jhore out, and seeing his long hair, she said,
"How is it that your hair has grown so long?" "I pounded it in the
dhenki," he replied, "Will you pound mine, so that it may become long
like yours," said the demon's daughter. Jhore replied, "I shall do so
with pleasure, put your head in the dhenki, and I shall pound it." So
she put in her head, and he pounded it so that he killed her. He then
possessed himself of all her jewellery, and dressing in her clothes,
cooked her body.

When the demon returned, accompanied by his friends, he said,
"Well! daughter, have you cooked Jhore?" Jhore replied, "Yes, I have
cooked him." On hearing this, the demon and the jackals who had come
with him, were delighted, and setting to, they devoured the body of
the demon's daughter.

After some days, the demon went to visit a friend, and Jhore divesting
himself of the demon girl's clothes, went to where the demon had at
first found him, and began to swing as before. Presently a tigress
approached him and said, "Oh! brother, the hair of my cubs has
grown very long, I wish you to shave them to-day." Jhore replied,
"Oh! sister, boil some water, and then go to the spring to bring
more." The tigress having boiled the water, went to the spring. While
she was away, Jhore poured the boiling water over the two cubs,
and scalded them to death. He made them grin by fixing the lips
apart, and propped them up at the door of the tigress' house. On her
return as she drew near, she saw her cubs, as she fancied, laughing,
and said to herself. "They are delighted because their uncle has
shaved them." Setting down her water pot, she went to look at them,
and found them dead. Just then the demon came up, and she asked him,
"Whom are you seeking to-day uncle?" He replied "I am seeking Jhore,
he has caused me to eat my own daughter. Whom are you seeking?" The
tigress replied, "I also am seeking Jhore; he has scalded my cubs
to death."

The two then went in search of Jhore. They found him in a lonely part
of the forest preparing birdlime, and said to him, "What are you doing,
Jhore?" He replied, "I look high up, and then I look deep down." They
said, "Teach us to do it too." He answered, "Only I can do it." They
asked him a second time, and received the same reply. On their begging
him a third time to teach them, he said, "Well, I shall do it." He
then put some of the birdlime into their eyes, and fixed their eyelids
together, so that they could not open them. While they were washing
their eyes, he ran away. As soon as they had rid themselves of the
birdlime, they followed him and found him distilling oil from the
fruit of the marking-nut tree. They said to him, "What are you doing,
Jhore?" He replied, "I look deep down, and then high up." They said,
"Teach us also." He replied, "Only I can do it." They asked him again,
and he said, "Well I will do it." He then poured some of the oil he
had distilled into their eyes. It burned them so, that they became

Jhore was next seen seated in a fig-tree eating the fruit. Some cattle
merchants, passing under the tree with a large herd of cattle, saw him
eating the figs, and asked him what it was he was eating. He replied,
"Beat the bullock that is going last, and you shall find it." So
they beat the bullock till it fell down. In the meantime, the herd
had gone on ahead, and Jhore running after them drove them to his
own house. His brother seeing the large herd of cattle, asked to whom
they belonged. Jhore replied, "They are Jhore's property." Jhorea then
said, "I killed my brother Jhore, what Jhore is it?" He made answer,
"Your brother Jhore whom you thought you had killed." Jhorea was
delighted to find his brother alive, and said to him, "Let us live
together after this." So they lived peacefully together ever after.


A certain boy had charge of a cow which he used to tend while
grazing. One day the cow said to him, "How is it that you are becoming
so emaciated?" The boy replied, "My stepmother does not give me
sufficient food." The cow then said to him, "Do not tell any one,
and I will give you food. Go to the jungle and get leaves with which
to make a plate and cup." The boy did as he was ordered, and behold,
the cow from one horn shook boiled rice into the leaf plate, and from
the other a relish for the rice into the cup. This continued daily
for a considerable time, until the boy became sleek and fat.

The stepmother came to know of the relation which existed between
the cow and her herd-boy, and to be revenged upon them she feigned
illness. To her attendants she said, "I cannot possibly live." They
asked, "What would make you live?" She replied, "If you kill the cow,
I will recover." They said, "If killing the cow will cure you, we will
kill it." The boy hearing that the life of the cow which supplied
him with food was threatened, ran to her and said, "They are about
to kill you." Hearing this the cow said, "You go and make a rope of
rice straw, make some parts thick, and some thin, and put it in such a
place as they can easily find it. When they are about to kill me, you
seize hold of my tail and pull." The next day they proceeded to make
arrangements to kill the cow, and finding the rope prepared by the boy
the day before, they tied her with it to a stake. After she was tied
the boy laid hold of her tail, and pulled so that the rope by which
she was secured was made taut. A man now raised an axe, and felled
her by a blow on the forehead. As the cow staggered the rope broke,
and she and the boy were borne away on the wind, and alighted in an
unexplored jungle. From the one cow other cows sprang, in number equal
to a large herd, and from them another large herd was produced. The boy
then drove his two herds of cows to a place where they could graze, and
afterwards took them to the river to drink. The cows having quenched
their thirst, lay down to rest, and the boy bathed, and afterwards
combed and dressed his hair. During this latter operation a hair from
his head fell into the river, and was carried away by the current.

Some distance lower down, a princess with her female companions and
attendants came to bathe. While the princess was in the water she
noticed the hair floating down stream, and ordered some one to take it
out, which when done they measured, and found it to be twelve cubits
long. The princess on returning home went to the king, her father,
and showing him the hair she had found in the river said, "I have made
up my mind to marry the man to whom this hair belonged." The king gave
his consent, and commanded his servants to search for the object of his
daughter's affection. They having received the king's command went to
a certain barber and said to him, "You dress the hair and beards of
all the men in this part of the country, tell us where the man with
hair twelve cubits long is to be found." The barber, after many days,
returned unsuccessful. The king's servants after a long consultation
as to whom they should next apply to, decided upon laying the matter
before a tame parrot belonging to the king. Going to the parrot they
said, "Oh parrot, can you find the man whose hair is twelve cubits
long?" The parrot replied, "Yes, I can find him." After flying here
and there the parrot was fortunate enough to find the boy. It was
evening, and having driven his two herds of cattle into their pen,
he had sat down, and was employed in dressing his long hair. His
flute was hanging on a bush by his side.

The parrot sat awhile considering how she might take him to the king's
palace. Seeing the flute the idea was suggested to her, that by means
of it she might contrive to lead him where she desired. So taking it up
in her beak, she flew forward a little and alighted in a small bush. To
regain possession of his flute the boy followed, but on his approach
the bird flew away, and alighted on another bush a short distance
ahead. In this way she continued to lead him by flying from bush to
bush until at length she brought him to the king's palace. He was then
brought before his majesty, and his hair measured, and found to be
twelve cubits in length. The king then ordered food to be set before
him, and after he was refreshed the betrothal ceremony was performed.

As it was now late they prevailed upon him to pass the night as the
guest of the king. Early in the morning he set out, but, as he had
a long distance to go, the day was far advanced before he reached
the place where his cattle were. They were angry at having been kept
penned up to so late an hour, and as he removed the bars to let them
out, they knocked him down, and trampled upon his hair in such a way,
as to pull it all out leaving him bald. Nothing daunted, he collected
his cows, and started on his return journey, but us he drove them
along, one after another vanished, so that only a few remained when
he reached the king's palace.

On his arrival they noticed that he had lost all his hair, and on being
questioned he related to the king all that had fallen him. His hair
being gone the princess refused to marry him, so instead of becoming
the king's son-in-law, he became one of his hired servants.


There were two brothers named Kara and Guja. Guja, who was the elder
did the work at home, and Kara was ploughman.

One day the two went to the forest to dig edible roots. After they
had been thus engaged for some hours, Kara said to Guja, "Look up
and see the sun's position in the heavens." Looking up he said,
"Oh brother, one is rising and another is setting." They then said,
"The day is not yet past, let us bestir ourselves, and lose no
time." So they dug with all their might.

After digging a long time Kara looked up and became aware that it was
night. He then exclaimed, "Oh brother, it is now night, what shall
we do? Come let us seek some place where we can remain until the
morning." After they had wandered awhile in the forest they spied a
light in the distance, and on drawing near they found that a tiger had
kindled a fire, and was warming himself. Going up to the entrance to
the cave they called out to the tiger, "Oh uncle, give us a place to
sleep in." He answered, "Come in." So the two went in, and being hungry
began to roast and eat the roots they had brought with them. The tiger
hearing them eating, enquired what it was. They replied, "Oh uncle, we
are roasting and eating the roots which we dug up in the forest." He
then said, "Oh my nephews, I will also try how they taste." So they
handed him a piece of charcoal, and as he munched it he said, "Oh
my nephews, how is it that I feel it grating between my teeth?" They
replied, "It is an old one that you have got, uncle." He then said,
"Give me another, and I will try it." So they gave him another piece of
charcoal, and after he had crunched it awhile he said, "Oh my nephews,
this is as bad as the other," to which they rejoined, "Oh uncle,
your mouth is old, therefore what is good to us, is the reverse to
you." The tiger did not wish to try his grinders on another piece of
charcoal, so the brothers were left to enjoy their repast alone.

After they had eaten all the roots, Guja said to Kara, "What shall
we eat now? Come let us eat this old tiger's tail." Kara replied,
"Do not talk in that way, brother, the tiger will devour us." "Not so,
brother," said Guja, "I have a great desire to eat flesh." The old
tiger understood their conversation, and being afraid tried to get
out of the cave, but the brothers caught hold of him, and wrenched
off his tail, which they roasted in the ashes, and then ate.

The tiger after losing his tail summoned a council of all the tigers
inhabiting that part of the forest, at which they decided to kill and
eat the two brothers. So they went to the cave, but Kara and Guja had
fled, and had taken refuge in a palm tree which grew on the edge of
a large deep tank. Not finding them in the cave the tigers, headed
by him who had lost his tail, went in quest of them, and coming to
the tank saw them reflected in the water, and one after another they
dived in, thinking they would be able to seize them, but of course
they could not catch a shadow. One of the tigers, when in the act
of yawning, looked upwards, and seeing them in the tree exclaimed,
"There they are. There they are." They then asked the brothers how
they had managed to climb up, to which they replied, "We stood on
each other's shoulders." The tigers then said, "Come, let us do the
same, and we shall soon reach them." As the tailless tiger was most
interested in their capture, they made him stand lowest, and a tiger
climbed up and stood on his shoulders, and another on his, and so
on; but before they reached the brothers, Kara called out to Guja,
"Give me your sharp battle-axe, and I shall hamstring the tailless
tiger." The tailless tiger forgetting himself jumped to one side,
and the whole pillar of tigers fell in a heap on the ground. They now
began to abuse the old tailless tiger, who fearing lest they should
tear him in pieces fled into the forest.

After the tigers had left, the two brothers descended from the palm
tree, and walked rapidly away as they dreaded that the tigers might
yet follow them. Towards evening they came to a village, and entering
into the house of an old woman lay down to sleep. The owner of the
house observing them said, "Oh my children, do not sleep to-night,
for there is a demon who visits in rotation each house in the village,
and each time he comes carries off some one and eats him; it is my
turn to receive a visit to-night." They said, "Do not trouble us now,
let us sleep, as we are tired." So they slept, but kept their weather
eye open. During the night the old woman came quietly, and began
to bite their arms, which they had laid aside before retiring to
rest. Hearing a sound as if some one were crunching iron between his
teeth, the brothers called out, "Old woman, what are you eating?" She
replied "Only a few roasted peas which I brought from the chief's
house." About midnight the demon came, and as he was entering the
house Kara and Guja shot at him with their bows and arrows, and he
fell down dead. Then they cut out his claws and tongue, and placed
them in a bag. Afterwards they threw out the body of the demon into
the garden behind the house.

Now it so happened that the king had promised to give his daughter
and half of his kingdom to the man who should slay the demon. Early
in the morning a Dome, who was passing, discovered the body of the
demon, and said within himself, "I will take it to the king and claim
the reward." So running home he broke all the furniture in his house
and beat his old woman saying, "Get out of this. I am about to bring
the king's daughter home as my bride." He then returned quickly,
and taking up the body of the demon carried it to the king, and said,
"Oh sir king, I have slain the demon." The king replied, "Very well,
we will enquire into it." So he commanded some of his servants to
examine the body, and on doing so they found that the claws had been
extracted and the tongue cut out. They reported the condition of
the body to the king, who ordered the Dome to state the weapon with
which he killed him. The Dome replied, "I hit him with a club on the
head." On the head being examined no mark whatever was seen, so in
order to arrive at the truth the king ordered all the inhabitants of
the village to be brought together to the palace. He then enquired
of them as to who killed the demon.

The old woman, in whose house Kara and Guja had passed the night,
stepped forward and said, "Oh sir king, two strangers came to my house
yesterday evening, and during the night they slew the demon." The
king said, "Where are those two men?" The old woman replied, "There
they are, the two walking together." So the king sent and brought
them back, and questioned them as to the slaying of the demon. They
pointed out the arrow-marks on the body, and produced his claws and
tongue from their bag. This evidence convinced the king that they,
and not the Dome, had slain the demon. Kara and Guja were received
with great favour by the king, and received the promised reward.

The king sentenced the Dome to be beaten and driven from the
village. After receiving his stripes, the Dome returned home, and
gathered the shreds of his property together. He also went in search
of his Dome wife and children, but they mocked him saying, "You went
to marry the king's daughter, why do you come again seeking us."

Thus Kara and Guja gained a kingdom.


There was a certain king known by the name of Huntsman, on account of
his expertness in the chase. One day when returning from the forest
where he had been hunting he found a serpent and a lizard fighting
on the path along which he was moving. As they were blocking the way
he ordered them to stand aside and allow him to pass, but they gave
no heed to what he said. King Huntsman then began to beat them with
his staff. He killed the lizard, but the serpent fled, and so escaped.

The serpent then went to Monsha, the king of the serpents, and
complained of the treatment the lizard and himself had received at
the hands of king Huntsman. The next day king Monsha went and met king
Huntsman on his way home from the forest, and blocked his way so that
he could not pass. King Huntsman being angry said, "Clear the way,
and allow me to pass, or else I shall send an arrow into you. Why
do you block my way?" King Monsha replied, "Why did you assault the
lizard and the serpent, with intent to kill them both?" King Huntsman
answered, "I ordered them to get out of my way, but they would not,
I therefore assaulted them, and killed one. The other saved himself
by flight." King Monsha hearing this explanation said, "Very good,
the fault was theirs, not yours."

King Huntsman then petitioned the king of the serpents to bestow upon
him the gift of understanding the language of animals and insects. King
Monsha acceded to his request, and gave him the gift he desired.

A few days after this event King Huntsman went to the forest, and after
hunting all day returned home in the evening Having washed his hands
and feet, he sat down to his meal of boiled rice. When the rice was
being served to the king a few grains fell on the ground, and a fly
and an ant began to dispute as to who should carry them away. The fly
said, "I will take them to my children." The ant replied, "No, I will
take them to mine." Hearing the two talk thus, the king was amused,
and began to smile. The queen, who was standing by, said to him,
"Tell me what has made you laugh." On being thus addressed the king
became greatly confused, for at the time the gift of understanding the
language of animals and insects was bestowed upon him, King Monsha had
forbidden him to make it known to any one. He had said, "If you tell
this to any one, I shall eat you." Remembering this the king feared
to answer the question put to him by the queen. He tried to deceive
her by saying, "I did not laugh, you must have been mistaken." She
would not, however, be thus put off, so the king was obliged to tell
her that if he answered her question his life would be forfeited. The
queen was inexorable, and said, "Whether you forfeit your life or
not, you must tell me." The king then said, "Well, if it must be so,
let us make ready to go to the bank of the Ganges. There I shall
tell you, and when I have done so you must push me into the river,
and then return home."

The king armed himself, and the two set out for the river. When they
had reached it, they sat down to rest under the shade of a tree. A
flock of goats was grazing near to where they were seated, and the
king's attention was arrested by a conversation which was being carried
on between an old she-goat and a young he-goat. The former addressed
the latter thus, "There is an island in the middle of the Ganges,
and on that island there is a large quantity of good sweet grass. Get
the grass for me, and I shall give you my daughter in marriage." The
he-goat was not thus to be imposed upon. He angrily addressed his
female friend as follows, "Do not think to make me like this foolish
king, who vainly tries to please a woman. He has come here to lose
his own life at the bidding of one. You tell me to go and bring you
grass out of such a flood as this. I am no such fool. I do not care
to die yet. There are many more quite as good as your daughter."

The king understood what passed between them, and admitted to himself
the truth of what the he-goat had said. After considering a short time
he arose, and having made a rude sacrificial altar, said to the queen,
"Kneel down, and do me obeisance, and I shall tell you what made me
laugh." She knelt down, and the king struck off her head and burnt
her body upon the altar. Returning home he performed her funeral
ceremonies, after which he married another wife.

He reigned prosperously for many years, and decided all disputes that
were brought before him by animals or insects.


In a certain village there lived seven brothers. The youngest of
them planted a certain vegetable, and went every day to examine
it to see how it was growing. For a long time there were only the
stalk and leaves, but at length a flower appeared, and from it a
fruit. This fruit he measured daily to mark its growth. It grew
continuously until it became exactly a span long, after which it
remained stationary. One day he said to his sisters-in-law, "Do not
eat my fruit, for whoever does so will give birth to a child only one
span long." He continued his daily visits to his plant as usual, and
was pleased to note that the fruit was evidently ripening. One day,
during his absence, one of his sisters-in-law plucked the fruit and
ate it. On returning from the field where he had been ploughing, he
went to look at and measure his fruit, but it was gone, it had been
stolen. Suspecting that some one of his sisters-in-law was the thief,
he accused each of them in turn, but they all denied having touched
it. When he found that no one would confess to having taken it, he
said to them, "Do not tell upon yourselves, the thief will be caught
before long." And so it happened, for one of them gave birth to a
baby one span long. The first time he saw his sister-in-law after
the child was born he laughed, and said to her, "You denied having
stolen my fruit, now you see I have found you out."

When the time came that the child should receive a name, Bitaram [2]
was given to him, because he was only a span in height. Bitaram's
mother used to take food to the brothers to the field when they were
ploughing, and when Bitaram was able to walk so far he accompanied
her. One day he surprised his mother by saying, "Let me take the food
to my father and uncles to-day." She replied, "What a fancy! You,
child, are only a span high, how can you carry it?" But Bitaram
insisted saying, "I can carry it well enough, and carry it I will." His
mother being unable to resist his pertinacity said, "Then, child,
take it, and be off." So she placed the basket on his head and he
set out. Arrived at the field he went up a furrow, but the ground was
so uneven that before he reached his destination, he had lost nearly
all the rice, which had been shaken out of the basket. On his coming
near, one of his uncles called out, "Is that you Bitaram?" He replied,
"Yes, it is I, Bitaram." Climbing up out of the furrow, he put down
the basket saying, "Help yourselves, and I will take the oxen and
buffaloes to the water." So saying, he drove off the cattle to the
river. When they had quenched their thirst he gathered them together,
and began to drive them back again to where he had left his father and
uncles. While following them up the sandy back of the river, he fell
into a depression made by the hoof of a buffalo, and was soon covered
up by the loose sand sent rolling down by the herd as they ascended.

When the cattle returned without Bitaram, his father and uncles became
alarmed for his safety, and immediately went in search of him. They
went here and there calling out "Bitaram, where are you?" But failing
to find him they concluded that he had been devoured by some wild
animal, and returned sorrowfully home. Rain fell during the night,
and washed the sand from off Bitaram, so that he was able to get up,
and climb out. On his way home he encountered some thieves who were
dividing their booty in a lonely part of the forest. Bitaram hearing
them disputing called out "Kehe kere" at the pitch of his voice. The
thieves hearing the sound, looked round on all sides to see who was
near, but the night being dark, and they not directing their eyes near
enough to the ground to see Bitaram, they could discern no one. Then
they said to each other, "Let us seek safety in flight. A spirit has
been sent to watch us." So they all made off leaving behind them the
brass vessels they had stolen. Bitaram gathered these up, and hid
them among some prickly bushes, and then went home.

It was now past midnight, and all had retired to rest, and as Bitaram
stood shivering with cold at the closed door, he called out, "Open
the door and let me in." His father hearing him said, "Is that you
Bitaram?" He replied, "Yes, open the door." They then enquired where
he had been, and he related all that had happened to him after he had
driven the cattle to the river. Having warmed himself at the fire, he
told his father of his adventure with the thieves in the forest. He
said, "I despoiled some thieves, whom I met in the jungle, of the
brass vessels they had stolen." His father replied, "Foolish child,
do not tell lies, you yourself are not the height of a brass lota"
(drinking-cup). "No father," said Bitaram, "I am telling the truth,
come and I will shew you where they are." His father and uncles went
with him, and he pointed out to them the vessels hidden among the
prickly bushes. They picked them all up and brought them home.

Early next morning some sepoys, who were searching for the thieves,
happened to pass that way, and seeing the stolen property lying out
side of the house, recognized it, and apprehended Bitaram's father
and uncles and dragged them off to prison. After this Bitaram and
his mother were obliged to beg their bread from house to house. She
often attributed to him the misery which had befallen them, saying,
"Had it not been for your pertinacity, your father and uncles would
not have been deprived of their liberty."

One day, as they were following their usual avocation, they entered
a certain house, and Bitaram said to his mother, "Ask the people of
the house to give me a tumki. [3]" She did not at first comply, but
he kept urging her until being irritated she said, "It was through
your pertinacity in insisting upon being allowed to carry the food
to your father and uncles that they are now bound and in prison, and
yet you will not give up the bad habit." Bitaram said, "No, mother,
do ask it for me." As he would not be silenced she begged it for him,
and the people kindly gave it.

At the next house they came to, they saw a cat walking about, and
Bitaram said, "Oh mother, ask the people to give me the cat." As
before, she at first refused, but he continued to press her, and she
becoming annoyed scolded him saying, "The young gentleman insists on
obtaining this and that. It was your pertinacity that caused your
father and uncles to be dragged to prison in bonds." Bitaram replied,
"Not so, mother, do ask them to give me the cat." As the only way to
silence him she said to the people of the house, "Give my boy your cat,
he will hold it in his arms for a few minutes, and then set it down,
but he carried it away with him." Bitaram then begged his mother to
make him a bag, and fill it with flour, saying, "I am going to obtain
the release of my father and uncles." She mockingly replied, "Much you
can do." She made him a bag, however, and filling it with flour said,
"Be off."

Bitaram then strapped the bag of flour on the cat's back as a saddle,
and mounted. Puss, however, refused to go in the direction desired,
and it was with great difficulty that he prevailed upon her to take
the road. As he rode along he observed a swarm of bees on an ant
hill, and dismounting he addressed them as follows, "Come bees, go
in, come bees, go in." The bees swarmed into the tumki, and Bitaram
having covered them up with a leaf continued his journey. Before he
had gone far he came to a large tank, which belonged to the raja who
had imprisoned his father. A number of women had come to the tank for
water, and Bitaram taking his stand upon the embankment began to shoot
arrows at their waterpots. After he had broken several, the women
espied him mounted on his cat with his bow and arrows in his hand,
and believing him to be an elf from the forest fled in terror to
the city. Going to the raja they said "Oh raja, come and see. Some
one is on the tank embankment. We do not know who or what he is,
but he is only a span high." The raja then summoned his soldiers,
and commanded them to take their bows and arrows, and go and shoot
him whoever he was. The soldiers went within range, but although they
shot away all their arrows, they failed to hit him. So returning to
the raja they said, "He cannot be shot." Hearing this the raja became
angry, and calling for his bow and arrows, went to the tank and began
to shoot at Bitaram, but although he persevered until his right side
ached with drawing the bow, he could not hit him.

When he desisted, Bitaram called out "Are you exhausted?" The raja
answered "Yes." Then said Bitaram "It is my turn now," and taking the
leaf from off the mouth of the basket called to the bees, "Go into the
battle, bees." The bees issued from the basket like a black rope, and
stung the raja and those who were with him. No way of escape offering,
the raja called out to Bitaram, "Call off your bees, and I will give
you the half of my kingdom and my daughter, and I will also set at
liberty your father and uncles." Bitaram gathered the bees into the
basket, and after his father and uncles had been released, took them
back to the ant hill from whence he had brought them. On his return
he wedded the princess and received half of her father's kingdom.

Bitaram and his wife lived happily together, and every thing they
took in hand prospered, so that before long they were richer than the
king himself. One great source of Bitaram's wealth was a cow which
the princess had brought him as part of her dowry. Being envious of
their good fortune, the raja and his sons resolved to kill the cow,
and thus obtain possession of all the gold and silver. So they put
the cow to death, but when they had cut her up they were disappointed
as neither gold nor silver were found in her stomach.

Bitaram placed his cow's hide in the sun, and when it was dry carried
it away to sell it. Darkness coming on he climbed into a tree for
safety, as wild beasts infested the forest through which he was
passing. During the night some thieves came under the tree in which
he was, and began to divide the money they had stolen. Bitaram then
relaxed his hold of the dry hide, which made such a noise as it fell
from branch to branch that the thieves fled terror-stricken, and
left all their booty behind them. In the morning Bitaram descended,
and collecting all the rupees carried them home. He then shewed the
money to his wife, and said "Go and ask the loan of your father's
paila, that I may measure them." So she went and brought the
measure, which had several cracks in it. Having measured his money
he sent back the raja's paila, but he had not noticed that one or
two pieces were left sticking in the cracks. So they said to him,
"Where did you get the money?" He replied "By the sale of my cow's
hide." Hearing this they said, "Will the merchant who bought yours,
buy any more?" He said, "Yes. I received all this money for my one
hide, how much more may not you receive seeing you have such large
herds of cattle! If you dispose of their hides at the same rate as
I have done, you will secure immense wealth." So they killed all
their cattle, but when they offered the hides for sale they found
they had been hoaxed. They were ashamed and angry at having allowed
themselves to be thus imposed upon by Bitaram, and in revenge they
set fire to his house at night, but he crept into a rat's hole and
so escaped injury. In the morning he emerged from his hiding place,
and carefully gathering up the ashes of his house tied them up in a
cloth, and carried them away. As he walked along he met a merchant,
to whom he said, "What have you in your bag?" He replied "Gold-pieces
only." The merchant then enquired of Bitaram what he had tied up in
his cloth, to which he answered, "Gold-dust only." Bitaram then said,
"Will you exchange?" The merchant said, "Yes." So they exchanged,
and Bitaram returned laden with gold. Not being able to count it, he
again sent his wife to borrow her father's paila, and having measured
the gold-pieces returned it to him. This time a few pieces of gold
remained in the cracks in the paila, and the raja, being informed of
it, went and asked Bitaram where he got the gold. He replied, "I sold
the ashes of my house which you burnt over my head, and received the
gold in return." The raja and his sons then enquired if the merchant,
who bought the ashes from him, would buy any more. Bitaram replied,
"Yes, he will buy all he can get." "Do you think," said they, "he
will buy from us?" Bitaram advised them to burn their houses, and
like him, turn the ashes into gold. "I had only one small house,"
he said, "and I obtained all this money. You have larger houses,
and should therefore receive a correspondingly large amount." So
they set fire to, and burnt their houses, and gathering up the ashes
took them to the bazar, and there offered them for sale. After they
had gone the whole length of the bazar, and had met with no buyers,
some one advised them to go to where the washermen lived, saying,
they might possibly take them. The washermen, however, refused,
and as they could not find a purchaser, they threw away the ashes,
and returned home determined to be revenged upon Bitaram.

This time they decided upon drowning him, so one day they seized him,
and putting him into a bag they carried him to the river. Arrived
there they put him down, and went to some little distance to cook
their food. In the meantime a herd boy came up and asked Bitaram why he
was tied up in the bag. He replied, "They are taking me away to marry
me against my will." The herd boy said, "I will go instead of you. I
wish to be married." Bitaram replied, "Open the bag and let me out,
and you get in, and I will tie it up again." So Bitaram was released,
and the herd boy took his place, and was afterwards thrown into the
river and drowned.

Bitaram on escaping collected all the herd boy's cattle, and drove
them home. When the raja and his sons returned, they found Bitaram
with a large herd of cows and buffaloes. Going near, they enquired
where he had got them. He replied, "At some distance below the spot
where you threw me into the river, I found numerous herds of cattle,
so I brought away as many as one person could drive. If you all go,
you will be able to bring a very much larger number." So they said,
"Very well, put us into bags, and tie us up as we did you." Bitaram
replied, "It is impossible for me to carry you as you did me. Walk to
the river bank, and there get into the bags, and I will push you into
the river." They did as he suggested, and when all was in readiness,
he pushed them into the river, and they were all drowned.

Bitaram returned alone, and took possession of all that had belonged
to them. The whole kingdom became his, and he reigned peacefully as
long as he lived.


There was a certain raja who had two sons named Sit and Bosont. Their
mother the rani had been long ill, and the raja was greatly dejected
on her account. From the bed on which she lay, the rani could see
two sparrows who had made their nest in a hole in the wall of the
palace, and she had remarked the great love and tenderness which
the hen-sparrow bore towards her young ones. One day she saw both
sparrows sitting in front of their nest, and the sight of them set her
a-thinking, and she came to the conclusion that the hen-sparrow was
a model mother. The raja also had his attention attracted daily by
the sparrows. One day, very suddenly, the hen-sparrow took ill, and
died. The next day the cock-sparrow appeared with another mate, and
sat in front of the nest with her, as he had done with the other. But
the new mother took no notice of the young ones in the nest, but left
them to die of hunger. The rani, who was greatly grieved to see such
want of compassion, said to the raja, "This is how it is, one has no
pity for those who belong to another. Remember what you have been a
witness of, and should I die take care of the two children." Shortly
after this the rani died, and the raja mourned over her, and continued
most solicitous for the welfare of their two boys.

Some months after the rani's death, the raja's subjects prayed
him to take another wife, saying, "Without a rani your kingdom is
incomplete." The raja refused to comply, saying, "I shall never
take another wife." His subjects would not, however, be silenced,
but continued to press the matter upon him with such persistency
that eventually he had to accede to their wishes, and take to himself
another partner. He continued, however, to love and cherish his two
sons Sit and Bosont.

Some time after their marriage the rani took a dislike to the elder
son Sit, and was determined that he should no longer be allowed to
remain within the precincts of the palace. So she feigned sickness,
and the raja summoned physicians from all parts of his dominions, but
without avail, as none of them could tell what the disease was from
which the rani was suffering. One day when Sit and Bosont were out of
the way, and the raja and she were alone together, she said to him,
"Doctors and medicines will not save my life, but if you will listen
to me, and do what I tell you, I shall completely recover." The
raja said, "Let me hear what it is, and I shall try what effect it
may have." The rani said, "If you will promise to do for me what I
shall request, I will tell you, and not otherwise." The raja replied,
"I shall certainly comply with your wishes." The rani again said,
"Will you without doubt, do what I wish?" The raja replied, "Yes, I
shall." After she had made him promise a third time she said, "Will you
take oath that you will not seek to evade fulfilling my desire?" The
raja said, "I take my oath that I shall carry out your wishes to the
full extent of my ability." Having thus prevailed upon the raja to
pledge his word of honour, she said, "Do not allow your eldest son,
Sit, to remain any longer in the palace. Order him to leave, and go
somewhere else, so that I may not see his face, and never to return."

On hearing this the raja was greatly distressed. But what could he
do? The rani had said, "If you permit him to remain, I shall die,
and if you fulfil my wishes I shall live," and in his anxiety to save
the life of his rani, he had bound himself by an oath before he knew
what it was he would be required to do. After much consideration as
to how he could best communicate the order to leave the palace to his
son, he decided to write it on a sheet of paper and fix it, during
his absence, to the door of his room. When the brothers returned,
they found the paper placed there by the raja, and on reading it,
were greatly troubled. After some time, during which Sit had been
considering the position in which he found himself, he said to his
brother, "You must remain, and I must go." On hearing his brother's
words, Bosont's heart was filled with sorrow, and he replied, "Not so,
I cannot see you go away alone. You have been guilty of no fault for
which our parents could send you away. I cannot remain here alone. I
will accompany you. We are children of the same mother, and we should
not part." His brother replied, "Let us leave the house to-day. We
can pass the night in some place close at hand." So they left their
father's house, and concealed themselves in its vicinity. On the
approach of evening they began to feel the pangs of hunger, and the
younger said to the elder, "What shall we do? We have no food." After
a minute's thought, the elder replied, "Although we have been sent
adrift, we will take our elephants, and horses, and clothes, and
money along with us." So when night had fallen, they entered the
palace and brought out all that belonged to them, and at cock-crow,
set forth on their journey. They travelled all day, and as the sun
began to decline, they reached a dense jungle, and passing through
it they came to a large city where they put up for the night. The
city pleased them much, and they hired quarters in the Sarai. After
they had gained a little acquaintance with their surroundings, Sit,
attired in gorgeous apparel, and mounted on a splendid horse, rode
every evening through the principal streets of the city. One evening
the daughter of the raja of that country, from the roof of the palace,
saw him ride past, and fell deeply in love with him. She immediately
descended to her room, and feigning sickness, threw herself upon
her couch. Her parents, on entering, found her weeping bitterly,
and on enquiring the cause were informed by her attendants that she
had been suddenly seized with a dangerous illness, the nature of which
they did not know. The raja at once summoned the most famed physicians
that could be found, to cure his daughter. One after another, however,
failed to understand her complaint, and she grew worse daily. She was
heard continually wailing, "I shall never recover; I shall die." After
the doctors had retired baffled, she addressed her parents as follows;
"You, who gave me life, listen to my entreaty. There is one expedient
still, which if you will agree to put into execution, I shall recover,
and be as well as formerly, and should you refuse to do as I say,
and call it foolishness, then you shall never see my face again,
I shall depart this life at once." On hearing these words, her
parents said, "Tell us, what it is, we will surely act agreeably
to your wishes." She replied, "Oh! father, promise me that you will
carry them out without reserve." Her parents then promised with an
oath, that they would do all she desired. Then she told her story,
"Of late we have daily seen a young man in dazzling white apparel,
riding and curveting his horse through the city; if you betroth me
to that young prince, I shall enjoy my accustomed health again."

On hearing this, her parents became greatly distressed, as they
were averse to betrothing their daughter to a stranger of whom
they knew nothing. After consulting together they said, "He comes
this way in the evening, let us look out for him, and see what he is
like." About sunset, Sit, mounted on his horse, rode in the direction
of the palace. The raja had given orders to some of his attendants
to arrest the man who, every evening dressed in white, rode past the
palace. So, on his appearing, they laid hold of him and led him into
the presence of the raja, who being pleased with his appearance, at
once introduced him to his daughter's room. She, on beholding him,
instantly became well, and that same evening the two were married.

Bosont having charge of the property remained in the Sarai, while
his brother went out riding. Sit not returning at his usual time,
Bosont was alarmed and waited anxiously for his return. At length,
being wearied, he fell asleep. During the night a gang of thieves
entered his room, and began to carry off all his valuables. Bosont
slept so soundly that they had time to take away everything save his
bed-clothes. To obtain possession of these they had to lift him, on
which he awoke and gave the alarm. The thieves beat him with their
clubs till he was half dead; then, senseless and with a broken leg,
they threw him into the dry bed of a river.

In the morning his servants became aware of the robbery, and also
that their master was missing. His groom found him some time after
in the river bed, and carried him to a doctor who bound up his limb,
and took care of him. He was soon well enough to move about, but
doomed to halt through life.

The raja of that country was very wealthy, and had ships on the
sea. Whenever a ship left the port on its outward voyage, it was
customary to carry a man on board, who, on the rising of a storm at
sea, was cast over board to appease to wrath of the Spirit of the
mighty Deep. Without such a victim on board, no ship could leave
the harbour. Now, it so happened that one of the raja's vessels was
about to sail to a foreign port, but no man suitable for the sacrifice
could be obtained. At last the raja ordered them to take the lame man,
whom he had seen limping about the city. He, not knowing the purpose
they had in view in asking him to accompany them on their voyage,
gladly embraced the opportunity of seeing foreign lands. No sooner
was he on board than the ship began to move, and to obtain a better
view he climbed up the mast, and sat on the top of it. In twelve
days they reached a port. Bosont, however, did not decend from his
elevated station, but continued gazing on the country lying around.

The daughter of the raja of that city, while walking on the roof
of the palace, enjoying the cool of the evening, saw Bosont seated
on the ship's mast. She at once fell violently in love with him,
and descending to her room, feigned sickness. Her parents called in
the most famed physicians, but their skill was of no avail, the young
lady's illness increased in intensity. At last, when her parents began
to give up hope of saving her life, she said, "The doctors cannot do me
any good, but if you will do as I direct you, I shall recover." They
said, "Tell us what it is that we can do for you." She replied,
"Before I can make it known to you, you must take oath that you will
not seek to evade the performance of it." To this they agreed, and the
princess said, "If you will betroth me to the man sitting on the top
of the mast of the vessel in the harbour, I shall immediately regain
my health." The raja despatched messengers to the ship, and had Bosont
brought to the palace, and solemnized their marriage that same evening.

A few days after the above occurrence, the ship was ready to set sail
on her homeward voyage, so they took the lame man on board, his wife
also following. After they had been a few days at sea, the vessel
was in danger of foundering in a storm. The sailors searched for
the victim, but he could nowhere be found. At last one of the crew
looking up, spied him seated on the mast and climbing swiftly up,
pushed him into the sea. His wife had brought a tumba with her, and
seeing her husband in the sea, threw it to him. With this assistance he
was able to swim to the vessel, and laying hold of the stern, followed
swimming all the way to port. When the vessel was brought to anchor,
he climbed up into it, and disguised himself as a fakir. The people of
the city noticed him daily walking on the shore in front of the ship,
and believed him to be in reality a fakir.

One day the raja seeing Bosont's wife took a fancy to her, and caused
her to be brought to his palace. She had apartments assigned to her
in the best part of it, and was treated with great distinction. On the
raja offering her marriage, she declined, saying, "Speak not to me of
it." After several days the raja enquired, "Why do you still refuse to
become my wife." She replied, "Ask the fakir who is always to be seen
pacing the shore in front of a vessel lying in the harbour." The raja
gave orders immediately to have the fakir brought to the palace. On
his being ushered into his presence, the raja said, "What do you know
regarding the woman, who on declining to be my wife, referred me to you
for an explanation?" In reply Bosont related in the form of a fable,
the history of Sit and himself, and also what befell him after they
were parted from each other. Sit, who was now raja recognized his
brother in the fakir before him, and falling on his neck, wept for
joy. The two brothers continued ever after to live together.


A certain man had charge of a number of cattle. One day he took them
to graze near a quagmire, and leaving them there went in search of
jungle fruits. It so happened that one of the bullocks was browsing
on the edge of the quagmire when a tiger came creeping stealthily up,
and sprang upon it, but somehow or other missed his mark, and fell
into the quagmire and there stuck fast. When the herd come to drive
his cattle home, he found the tiger fast in the mud, and called a
large number of people to come and see him. The tiger addressed those
who came to gaze upon him as follows, "Oh men, pull me out. I am in
great straits." They replied, "We will not pull you out even to save
your life. You are a ravenous animal." The tiger said, "I will not eat
you." So they pulled him out. When he was again on dry land, he said,
"I will devour you, for it is my nature to do so." They replied,
"Will you really eat us?" "Yes, I will," said the tiger. "Well,"
they rejoined, "if you will devour us, what can we do to prevent
you? But let us first ask the opinion of some others as to whether
it is right for you to eat us or not." So they requested the opinion
of all the trees in the forest, and each said, "Human beings are all
bad." On asking the Mohwa tree, it replied, "Men are not good. Behold
every year I give them my flowers to eat, and my fruit from which
to make oil. In the hot weather I give them shade, and on leaving,
when they have rested, they give me a parting slash with their axes,
therefore it is right to eat these people, as they return evil for
good." So said all the trees.

From this forest they went to another in which they found a cow to whom
they said, "We are come to ask your opinion on a certain matter about
which we are at variance. This tiger was up to the neck in a quagmire,
and we pulled him out. Now he wishes to return evil for good. Is it
right for him to do so?" The cow replied, "Yes, yes, I have heard what
you have got to say. You human beings are not the correct thing. Behold
me, how much I have contributed to the health and comfort of my master,
yet he does not recognize my merit. Now that I am old, he has turned
me out, and should I improve a little in condition, he will say, 'I
will take this cow to the market and sell it. I will at least get a few
pence for it.' Behold, when a man is well to do, he has many friends,
but when he is poor, no one knows him. Verily, you are worthy to be
devoured." The tiger then said to the men, "Well, have you heard all
this? Are you convinced?" They said, "Hold on, let us ask one person
more." So as they walked along they saw a jackal and called to him, "Oh
uncle, stand still." The jackal said, "No I cannot wait, my companions,
who are on their way to see the swinging festival, are far ahead of me,
and I am hurrying to overtake them." They said to him, "Wait a little
and settle this matter for us. We pulled this tiger out of a quagmire,
and now he wishes to devour us." The jackal then said to the tiger,
"Is this true? I cannot believe that a famed individual like yourself
would be fool enough to jump into a quagmire. Come, shew me the place,
and how it happened." So the tiger led him to the quagmire, and said,
"This is the place from which I sprang, and this is how I did it,"
and he leaped into the quagmire. The jackal turning to the men, said,
"What are you staring at? Pelt him with stones." So they all set to
and stoned the tiger to death.


Once upon a time in a certain jungle, a lizard and a tiger were
fighting, and a lame man, who was tending goats near by, saw them. The
tiger being beaten by the lizard was ashamed to own it, and coming to
the lame man said, "Tell me which of us won." The lame man being in
great fear lest the tiger should eat him, said, "You won." On another
occasion the lizard was compelled to flee, and took refuge in an
ant hill. The tiger pursued him, but not being able to get him out,
sat down to watch.

The lizard seeing his opportunity, crept stealthily up to his
inveterate enemy, and climbing up his tail, fixed his teeth into his
haunch, and held firmly on. The tiger felt the pain of the lizard's
bite, but could not reach him to knock him off, so he ran to the lame
man, and said, "Release me from this lizard." When he had caused the
lizard to let go his grip, the tiger said, "Oh lame man, which of us
won in the encounter?" The poor man in great fear said, "You won."

The same scene was enacted daily for many days. The tiger always came
to the lame man and said, "Knock off this lizard," and after he had
done so, would say, "Which of us won?" The lame man invariably replied,
"You won." This had happened so often that the lame man began to feel
annoyed at having to tell a lie every day to please the tiger. So one
day after an ignominious flight on the part of the tiger, he being,
as usual, requested to give his opinion as to who won, said, "The
lizard had the best of it." On hearing this the tiger became angry,
and said, "I shall eat you, my fine fellow, because you say the lizard
defeated me. Tell me where you sleep." The poor lame man on hearing
the tiger threaten him thus, trembled with fear, and was silent. But
the tiger pressed him. He said, "Tell at once, for I shall certainly
devour you." The lame man replied, "I sleep in the wall press." When
night fell, the tiger set off to eat the lame man, but after searching
in the wall press failed to find him. In the morning the lame man
led his goats out to graze, and again met the tiger, who addressed
him as follows, "You are a great cheat. I did not find you in the
wall press last night." The lame man replied, "How is it you did not
find me? I was sleeping there." "No," said the tiger, "you were not,
you have deceived me. Now, tell me truly where you sleep." "I sleep
on a rafter," said the lame man. About midnight the tiger went again
in search of him to eat him, but did not find him on the rafter, so
he returned home. In the morning the lame man as usual led his goats
out to graze, and again encountered the tiger, who said to him, "How
now! Where do you sleep? I could not find you last night." The lame
man rejoined, "That is strange, I was there all the same." The tiger
said, "You are a consummate liar. Now tell me plainly where you sleep
at night, for I shall without doubt eat you." The lame man replied,
"I sleep in the fire-place." Again the tiger went at night, but could
not find him. Next morning he met the lame man, and said to him,
"No more tricks, tell me where you sleep." He, thrown off his guard,
said, "In the gongo." [4]

The tiger then withdrew to his den to wait till night came on, and
the lame man, cursing his indiscretion, with a heavy heart, drove his
goats homewards. Having made his charge safe for the night, he sat down
feeling very miserable. He refused the food that was set before him,
and continued bewailing his hard lot. In the hope of inducing him to
eat, they gave him some mohwa wrapped in a sal leaf. This also failed
to tempt him to eat; but he carried it with him when he crept into the
gongo to sleep. At night the tiger came and lifting up the gongo felt
it heavy, and said, "Well, are you inside?" He replied, "Yes, I am." So
the tiger carried off the gongo with the lame man in it. By the time
the tiger had gone a considerable distance, the lame man became hungry
and said within himself, "I shall have to die in the end, but in the
meantime I will appease my hunger." So he opened his small parcel of
mohwa, and the dry leaf crackled as he did so. The noise frightened the
tiger and he said, "What is it you are opening?" The lame man replied,
"It is yesterday's lizard." "Hold! hold!" exclaimed the tiger, "Do
not let him out yet, let me get clear away first." The lame man said,
"Not so, I will not wait, but will let him out at once." The tiger
being terrified at the prospect of again meeting his mortal enemy,
the redoubtable lizard, threw down the gongo and fled, calling out,
"I will not eat you. You have got the lizard with you."

In this way the lame man by means of the lizard saved his life.


There was once a certain simpleton who had never seen a horse, but
had heard that there was such an animal, and that men rode on his
back. His curiosity was greatly excited, and he went here and there
searching for a horse, so that he might ride on its back. On his way
he fell in with a wag, and asked him, what horses were like, where
they could be found, and whence were they produced. The wag replied,
"They are very large, they are to be had at the weekly market,
and they are hatched from eggs." He then asked, "What is the price
of the eggs?" The other replied, "Price! They are cheap, one pice
each." So one day he went to the market and bought four eggs which he
saw exposed for sale, and brought them home with him. He then made
preparations for a lengthened absence from his house, and started
for the jungle, taking with him rice, a cooking pot and fire, to
get the eggs hatched. Having reached the jungle, he placed the eggs
to hatch in what turned out to be a tiger's den, and then went some
distance off and sat down. After a short time he went to have a look
at the eggs, and found one was missing. He was greatly distressed, at
having as he fancied lost his horse, and cried out, "It has hatched,
and run away somewhere. But what has happened, has happened. What
can I do? I'll look out for the next one when it hatches." He then
went to cook his rice, and returning after some time missed another
of the eggs. He was very much grieved over the loss of the two eggs,
and mourning his misfortune, cried, "Where have the two gone, after
they came out of the shell? There still, however, remain two eggs." So
saying, he returned to finish his cooking. After a few minutes'
interval, he went to have a look at the eggs, and saw that another had
disappeared; only one remained. His grief at the loss of three horses,
was intense. He cried out, "Oh! where shall I find them? Three horses
have been hatched, and they have all run away." He then went to where
his cooking had been performed, and quickly ate his rice, and returned
in all haste to look at his egg. It too was gone. On seeing this,
his sorrow and disappointment were acute. He bemoaned his ill luck
as follows, "After all the trouble I was at to procure my eggs, they
have all hatched, and the horses are lost. But what is, must be. I
shall relieve my mind by taking a chew of tobacco." After putting the
tobacco into his mouth he noticed the tiger's den, and said, "It is
in here, the horses have gone." So he went and broke from a tree a
long stick with which he tried to poke his horses out. For some time
his labours met with no reward, but at last he succeeded in forcing
the tiger out of his den. Just as he was coming out, the simpleton
by some chance or other got astride of his back, and called out,
"At last I have found a horse." His delight was boundless. But the
tiger would not go in the direction of his rider's house, but kept
going further into the jungle. The simpleton then struck him about the
head and ears saying, "As ghur ghur, as ghur ghur;" [5] nevertheless
the tiger plunged deeper into the jungle. At last he bolted into a
thicket of trailing plants, where he unseated the simpleton. The tiger
having got rid of his rider fled. Afterwards he met a jackal who said
to him, "Where away, in such hot haste?" "Uh!" he said, "how much
of it can I tell you! I have been greatly harassed, and distressed
by As ghur ghur. It was with great difficulty I succeeded in giving
him the slip, and now I am fleeing for dear life." The jackal said,
"Come along and shew him to me, and I shall soon eat him up." The
tiger replied, "Oh dear! no. I cannot go. If he finds me again he
will do for me altogether." "Nonsense," said the jackal, "lead me to
where he is, and I shall devour him." The tiger was persuaded, and
led the way, and the jackal followed. After some little time they met
a bear, who said, "Where are you two going?" The jackal gave answer,
"This person has somewhere seen As ghur ghur and I am saying to him,
'Take me to where he is, and I shall eat him,' but he will not push
ahead." Then the bear said, "Come let us all go together, and I shall
eat him up." The tiger said, "I will go no further." The jackal then
said, "Listen to me, I will put you upon a plan. Let us hold on by
each other's tails, in this way you will have no cause to fear any
evil." This suggestion pleased them well, and they cried out, "Yes,
let us do that. You have hit upon a first rate expedient." Then the
bear took hold of the tiger's tail, and the jackal that of the bear,
and in this way they pursued their journey. But just as they drew near
the thicket in which the simpleton had been left, the tiger exclaimed,
"Look there, he is coming towards us," and being terribly frightened,
fled at his utmost speed dragging the bear and jackal after him tearing
the skin from off their bodies on the rough stones and gravel. At
length the jackal cried out, "Hold on uncle, hold on uncle, you have
rubbed all the skin off my body." But he would not halt, but kept
dashing on through wood and brake, dragging them after him, until the
bear's tail broke, and the jackal was released. His body by this time
was all raw flesh, and he was swollen into a round mass. However,
he managed to pick himself up, and run for his life.

Afterwards they met in with a pack of wild dogs who said,
"Hulloo! what's up, that you are fleeing in such a plight?" They
replied, "We are fleeing from As ghur ghur." "Where is he?" said they,
"We will eat him." The tiger said, "There just in front of you, where
you see the dark spot in the forest." So they went in the direction
indicated, and while they were yet some distance off, they saw the
simpleton standing in the shade of the trees. He also saw them, and
being afraid hid himself in a hollow tree. On coming up to the tree
in which he was, they surrounded it, and one of their number essayed
to poke him out of his hiding place with his tail. The simpleton,
however, taking hold of it twisted it round his hands, and pulled
with all his might. The pain caused by his tail being pulled, caused
the wild dog to grin. On seeing this, one of his companions said,
"Oh! Brother, wherefore do you grin." He said, "I have got hold of
him, and I am smiling with pleasure." The simpleton from within
the tree continued to pull, till the tail of the wild dog broke,
and he fell to the ground with a thud. The others on looking at him
noticed that he had lost his tail. So they all became panic stricken,
and fled from the place with all possible speed.

The simpleton took up his residence in that part of the jungle in
which the above occurred. He is said to be the ancestor of the Bir
hors, or jungle Santals.


In a certain country there lived a very wealthy man whose cattle
grazed on a wide plain. One day a tiger noticed them, and so did three
thieves. At night the tiger came to where they were lying, and so did
the three thieves, but the tiger arrived first. The night was pitch
dark, and the cows getting frightened fled to their owner's premises,
and all entered the cattle shed. When the tiger saw the cattle flee
he ran after them, and entered the shed along with them. The thieves,
coming to where they expected to find the cattle, and not seeing them,
also went to the cattle shed; but the people of the house not having
yet retired to rest, they hid themselves in the vicinity. When all
became still, they entered the cattle shed, and began feeling for
the largest and fattest oxen. Two of the thieves, each finding one to
his mind, drove them away. But one man being more difficult to please
than his neighbours continued to go from one to another groping for a
good fat one. In this way he laid his hands on the tiger, it seemed a
fat one, but lest there should be one still fatter, he left him for
a little. However, as he did not find one better than the tiger he
returned to him, and felt him all over again. He was without doubt the
fattest in the shed, so he drove him out. On reaching the open field,
the tiger went in the direction of the jungle, and his driver had great
difficulty in getting him to go the road he wished. In this way,--the
tiger going one direction, and the man pulling him another,--they
spent the night. At cock-crow the thief became aware, that it was
a tiger he had been contending with in the dark, and not an ox. He
then said to the tiger, "It is you then, whom I have taken possession
of." He then released the tiger, who fled to the jungle at full speed.

The thief having been awake all night felt tired, and lying down in
the shade of a ridge of a rice field to rest, fell asleep.

The tiger as he ran encountered a jackal who exclaimed, "Ho! Ho! uncle,
where are you off to, at such a break-neck pace?" The tiger replied,
"I am going in this direction. A mite kept me awake all night, I
am fleeing through fear of him." The jackal then said, "It is very
strange, uncle, that you did not vanquish him. We eat such as he. Tell
me where he is, and I shall soon snap him up." The tiger said, "He is
over in the direction of those rice fields, asleep somewhere." The
jackal then went in search of him, and soon found him asleep in
the shade of a ridge of a rice field. He then went all round him
reconnoitring, and when he had completed the circuit exclaimed,
"The tiger said he was a mite, but he turns out to be of immense
size, I cannot eat him all myself. I will gather my friends together
to assist me, and then we shall devour him in no time." So he sat
down with his back towards the sleeping thief, so near that his tail
touched his neck, and began to yell as only a hungry jackal can. The
noise awoke the sleeper, and seeing the jackal sitting so near to him,
he quietly caught him by the tail, and springing on to his feet swung
him round and round above his head, and then flung him from him. The
jackal was severely stunned, but picking himself up, fled as fast as
his legs could carry him. After he had gone some little distance he
met a bear, who said, "Where away in such hot haste?" He made answer,
"Uh! What can I tell you more than that that barren tiger grossly
deceived me. He told me he was a mite, I went to see him and found he
was a ghur pank, [6] and without doubt he ghur panked me." The bear
then said, "Oh! I'll eat him. Tell me where he is." The jackal said,
"You will find him over in these rice fields." So the bear went
to find him and eat him. When still some distance off he spied him
laying asleep, and was greatly delighted, exclaiming, "My belly will
be swollen with eating him before long." The thief accidentally lifted
his head, and saw the bear coming straight for him, so he jumped up
and ran to the nearest tree into which he climbed. The bear saw him,
and went up after him, and tried to get hold of him, but he jumped
from one branch to another as the bear followed him. After this had
gone on for some time, it so happened that the bear missed his footing
and fell heavily to the ground. The thief immediately jumped on to his
back. The bear was frightened, and getting to his feet fled as fast
as he could; the thief clasped him tightly round the neck, saying,
"If I let go my hold he will eat me." The bear of course ran to the
jungle, where the thief was caught by the branches of the trees, and
dragged off his back. He did not return to the rice fields to sleep,
as he feared some other animal might come to eat him, but went to
his own home.

As the bear fled, he again met the jackal who asked him, "Well! did
you eat him?" The bear replied, "You Sir, are a great cheat, you told
me he was ghur pank. He is kara upar chap." [7] The two quarrelled
over the matter, and the bear tried to catch the jackal to eat him,
but he managed to escape.


Once upon a time there lived seven brothers and a sister. The
brothers were married, but their wives did not do the cooking for
the family. It was done by their sister. The wives for this reason
bore their sister-in-law much ill will, and at length they combined
together to oust her from the office of cook and general provider,
so that one of themselves might obtain it. They said, "She does not
go out to the fields to work, but remains quietly at home, and yet
she has not the meals ready at the proper time." They then called
upon their Bad Bonga, [8] and vowing vows unto him they secured his
good will and assistance; then they said to the Bad Bonga, "At mid-day
when our sister-in-law goes to bring water, cause it thus to happen,
that on seeing her pitcher the water shall vanish, and again slowly
re-appear. In this way she will be delayed. May the water not flow into
her pitcher, and you keep the maiden as your own." At noon when she
went to bring water, it suddenly dried up before her, and she began
to weep. Then after a while the water began slowly to rise. When it
reached her ankles she tried to fill her pitcher, but it would not
go under the water. Being frightened she began to wail as follows;--

    "Oh! my brother, the water reaches to my ankles,
    Oh! my brother, the water reaches to my ankles,
    Still, Oh! my brother, the pitcher will not dip,
    Still, Oh! my brother, the pitcher will not dip."

The water continued to rise until it reached her knee, when she began
to wail as follows;--

    "Oh! my brother, the water reaches to my knee,
    Oh! my brother, the water reaches to my knee,
    Still, Oh! my brother, the pitcher will not dip,
    Still, Oh! my brother, the pitcher will not dip."

The water continued to rise, and when it reached her waist, she wailed
as follows;--

    "Oh! my brother, the water reaches to my waist,
    "Oh! my brother, the water reaches to my waist,
    "Still, Oh! my brother, the pitcher will not dip,
    "Still, Oh! my brother, the pitcher will not dip."

The water in the tank continued to rise, and when it reached her
breast, she wailed as follows;--

    "Oh! my brother, the water reaches to my breast,
    "Oh! my brother, the water reaches to my breast,
    "Still, Oh! my brother, the pitcher will not fill,
    "Still, Oh! my brother, the pitcher will not fill."

The water still rose, and when it reached her neck she wailed as

    "Oh! my brother, the water reaches to my neck,
    "Oh! my brother, the water reaches to my neck,
    "Still, Oh! my brother, the pitcher will not dip,
    "Still, Oh! my brother, the pitcher will not dip."

At length the water became so deep that she felt herself to be
drowning, then she wailed as follows;--

    "Oh! my brother, the water measures a man's height,
    "Oh! my brother, the water measures a man's height,
    "Oh! my brother, the pitcher begins to fill,
    "Oh! my brother, the pitcher begins to fill."

The pitcher filled with water, and along with it she sank and was
drowned. The bonga then transformed her into a bonga like himself,
and carried her off.

After a time she re-appeared as a bamboo growing on the embankment
of the tank in which she had been drowned. When the bamboo had grown
to an immense size, a Jugi, who was in the habit of passing that way,
seeing it, said to himself, this will make a splendid fiddle. So one
day he brought an axe to cut it down; but when he was about to begin,
the bamboo exclaimed, "Do not cut at the root, cut higher up." When
he lifted his axe to cut high up the stem, the bamboo cried out,
"Do not cut near the top, cut at the root." When the Jugi again
prepared himself to cut at the root as requested, the bamboo said,
"Do not cut at the root, cut higher up;" and when he was about to
cut higher up, it again called out to him, "Do not cut high up,
cut at the root." The Jugi by this time was aware that a bonga was
trying to frighten him, so becoming angry he cut down the bamboo at
the root, and taking it away made a fiddle out of it. The instrument
had a superior tone and delighted all who heard it. The Jugi carried
it with him when he went a-begging, and through the influence of its
sweet music he returned home every evening with a full wallet.

He now and again visited, when on his rounds, the house of the
bonga girl's brothers, and the strains of the fiddle affected them
greatly. Some of them were moved even to tears, for the fiddle
seemed to wail as one in bitter anguish. The elder brother wished
to purchase it, and offered to support the Jugi for a whole year,
if he would consent to part with his magical instrument. The Jugi,
however, knew its value, and refused to sell it.

It so happened that the Jugi sometime after went to the house of a
village chief, and after playing a tune or two on his fiddle asked
something to eat. They offered to buy his fiddle and promised a
high price for it, but he rejected all such overtures, his fiddle
being to him his means of livelihood. When they saw that he was not
to be prevailed upon, they gave him food and a plentiful supply of
liquor. Of the latter he partook so freely that he presently became
intoxicated. While he was in this condition, they took away his fiddle,
and substituted their own old one for it. When the Jugi recovered,
he missed his instrument, and suspecting that it had been stolen
requested them to return it to him. They denied having taken it,
so he had to depart, leaving his fiddle behind him. The chief's son
being a musician, used to play on the Jugi's fiddle, and in his hands
the music it gave forth delighted the ears of all within hearing.

When all the household were absent at their labours in the fields,
the bonga girl emerged from the bamboo fiddle, and prepared the family
meal. Having partaken of her own share, she placed that of the chiefs
son under his bed, and covering it up to keep off the dust, re-entered
the fiddle. This happening every day the other members of the household
were under the impression that some female neighbour of theirs was in
this manner showing her interest in the young man, so they did not
trouble themselves to find out how it came about. The young chief,
however, was determined to watch, and see which of his lady friends was
so attentive to his comfort. He said in his own mind, "I will catch
her to-day, and give her a sound beating. She is causing me to be
ashamed before the others." So saying, he hid himself in a corner in
a pile of firewood. In a short time the girl came out of the bamboo
fiddle, and began to dress her hair. Having completed her toilet,
she cooked the meal of rice as usual, and having partaken herself,
she placed the young man's portion under his bed, as she was wont,
and was about to enter the fiddle again, when he running out from
his hiding place caught her in his arms. The bonga girl exclaimed,
"Fie! Fie! you may be a Dom, or you may be a Hadi." [9] He said,
"No. But from to-day, you and I are one." So they began lovingly
to hold converse with each other. When the others returned home in
the evening, they saw that she was both a human being and a bonga,
and they rejoiced exceedingly.

Through course of time the bonga girl's family became very poor,
and her brothers on one occasion came to the chief's house on a visit.

The bonga girl recognised them at once, but they did not know who
she was. She brought them water on their arrival, and afterwards set
cooked rice before them. Then sitting down near them, she began in
wailing tones to upbraid them on account of the treatment she had
been subjected to by their wives. She related all that had befallen
her, and wound up by saying, "It is probable that you knew it all,
and yet you did not interfere to save me."

After a time she became reconciled to her sisters-in-law, and no
longer harboured enmity in her mind against them, for the injury they
had done her.


There was once a certain fatherless lad named Gumda. His occupation
was to tend the raja's goats. He, and his mother lived in a small house
at the end of the street in which the raja's palace was situated. The
raja's mahout was in the habit of taking his elephant along that
street, and every time it passed, it rubbed itself against the wall
of Gumda's house. One day at noon it so happened that Gumda was at
home when the elephant was being taken to the tank to drink, and as
usual he rubbed his side against the house as he passed. Gumda was
incensed with the elephant for thus destroying his house, and coming
out quickly, said to the mahout, "What although it is the raja's
elephant! I could take hold of any person's elephant by the trunk,
and throw it across seven seas." The elephant understood what Gumda
had said, and he refused to go down into the water, and would not even
drink. On being brought home he would not eat his grain, nor would he
so much as look at water. He continued thus so long that he began to
grow lean and weak. The mahout knew that it was Gumda's curse that had
so affected his charge. The raja one day noticing the altered condition
of his elephant, said to the mahout, "Why has the elephant become
so emaciated?" The mahout replied, "Oh! raja, one day at noon Gumda
abused him. He said, 'If you were not the raja's elephant, I would
take you by the trunk and throw you across seven seas.' 'Every day,'
he said, 'he rubs himself against my house.' Since then the elephant
has refused his food and water." The raja, on hearing this, commanded
that Gumda be brought before him. The messenger found him at home,
and brought him into the presence of the raja who asked him, "Is it
true, Gumda, that you said you would throw the elephant as you would
a stone?" Gumda replied, "Yes, it is quite true that I said so. The
elephant every time it passes along the street rubs itself against
the wall of my house, and being angry, I said these words. Now, do
with me whatsoever you please." The raja marvelled greatly on hearing
Gumda's reply, and addressing him said, "Now my lad, prove your words,
for prove them you must. If you succeed in thus throwing an elephant,
I shall present you with a large estate." The raja appointed the tenth
day following as that on which Gumda should wrestle with the elephant;
and he, after receiving permission from the raja, returned home.

The raja in the interval caused proclamation to be made to all his
subjects, ordering them to be present on the day when Gumda was to
meet the elephant in mortal combat. On the morning of the appointed
day Gumda was found baking bread. As he did not appear punctually
in the arena, the raja sent a messenger to bring him. On arriving
at Gumda's house, he found him baking bread. He said to him, "Come
along, the raja has asked for you." Gumda said, "Wait a little till I
partake of some refreshment." He invited the messenger to be seated,
and he also sat down as if to eat, but instead of eating the bread,
he began to throw it at the man, and continued doing so until he had
buried him under eight maunds of loaves. The poor fellow cried out,
"Oh Gumda, come and release me, of a truth I am almost crushed to
death under this heap of bread." He removed the bread from above him,
and he immediately returned to the raja. As he was leaving the house
he saw 12 maunds of cooked rice, evidently intended for Gumda's
dinner. Coming into the presence of the raja he said, "Oh! raja,
I saw in Gumda's house twelve maunds of cooked rice, and he threw a
loaf of bread weighing eight maunds at me, which almost crushed me
to death. It is quite possible that he may win."

At length Gumda came bringing with him a sledge hammer weighing
twelve maunds, and a shield of the same weight. The contest was to
take place on a plain sufficiently large to accommodate an immense
number of spectators.

Then the fight began. The two combatants attacked each other so
furiously that they raised such a cloud of dust as to completely
conceal them from the onlookers. The elephant could not long sustain
the unequal combat, and when he was beaten, Gumda seized him by the
trunk, and threw him over the seas. Owing to the darkness caused by
the clouds of dust, none of the thousands present noticed the elephant
as he went, flying over their heads high up in the air.

When the dust subsided, Gumda was found sitting alone, the elephant
was nowhere to be seen. The raja called the victor to him, and said,
"What have you done with the elephant?" Gumda replied "I flung him
early in the forenoon over seven seas." Hearing his answer and not
seeing the elephant, they all marvelled greatly.

The raja then said to Gumda, "Well, you have thrown the elephant
somewhere. You must now go in search of its bones." Gumda went home
and said to his mother, "Make up a parcel of food for me, I am going
to find the elephant's bones." She complied with his request and he
set out.

As he hurried along intent upon his quest, he found a man fishing with
a Palmyra palm tree as a rod, and a full grown elephant as a bait. On
seeing him Gumda exclaimed, "You are indeed a great hero." The man
replied, "I am no hero, the widow's son Gumda is the great hero, for
did not he fling the raja's elephant across seven seas?" Gumda said,
"I am he." The fisherman said," I will go with you." Gumda replied,
"Come along!"

As Gumda and his attendant went on their way, they came to a field in
which a number of men were hoeing, and their master, to shield them
from the heat of the sun, stood holding over them, as an umbrella,
a large Pepul tree. [10] Gumda seeing him said, "You are a hero
and no mistake." The man replied, "No indeed, I am no hero. Gumda,
the widow's son, threw the raja's elephant across seven seas. He is
the hero." Gumda said, "I am he." "Then," said the man, "I also will
go with you." "Follow me," said Gumda, and the three proceeded on
their way.

As they journeyed they fell in with two men, who were raising water
from a tank for irrigating purposes by merely singing. When Gumda
saw them, he exclaimed, "You two are heroes indeed." They answered,
"What do you see heroic in us? There is one hero, Gumda by name, he
threw a raja's elephant across seven seas." Gumda said, "I am he." The
men exclaimed, "We also will follow you." Gumda said, "Follow." And
the five men went forth to search for the elephant's bones.

On and on they went until they reached the sea, which they crossed,
and entered the primeval forest beyond. Selecting a suitable place
they encamped, and began the search for the elephant's bones. The
first day the fisherman was left in the camp to cook the food,
while the others went out into the forest. Near by a certain jugi
raja resided in a cave in a rock. He came to the camp just as the
food was cooked, and said to the fisherman, "Give me some rice to
eat." He declined, and the jugi raja then said, "Will you give me
rice, or will you fight with me?" He replied, "I have prepared this
food with difficulty and prefer fighting to giving it up." So they
fought, and the jugi raja was victor. He laid a heavy stone on the
breast of the cook, and then devoured all the food. There had been
twelve maunds of rice prepared, and he left none. After a long time
he released his victim, and then went his way. Being released the
fisherman set about preparing more food, but before it was ready,
his companions returned and seeing the pot still on the fire, they
enquired why he had not made haste with his cooking. He replied,
"I have not been idle, I have spent all the time in cooking." He did
not tell them about the jugi raja having been at the camp.

The next day another of the company remained as cook, while the
others went out to search in the forest for the elephant's bones. The
jugi raja again visited the camp, and the scene of the previous day
was re-enacted. But he also did not speak of the visit of the jugi
raja to the others when they returned. In this way the jugi raja
encountered each in turn till only Gumda was left, and he remained
in the camp to cook. When he had got the rice cooked, the jugi raja
made his appearance and said, "Will you fight with me, or will you
give up the food?" Gumda replied, "I will not give you the food. I
have spent much time in cooking it, and when those who have gone in
search of the elephant's bones return, what shall I set before them,
if I give it to you now? You have played this trick every day, and
have put my companions to much trouble, but to-day we have met." So
they fought. Gumda overpowered the jugi raja, and killed him with the
stone he used to put upon the breast of those whom he vanquished. He
then espoused the jugi raja's wife, and took possession of his
kingdom. Gumda's companions held him in great awe, because each in
turn had been conquered by the jugi raja, but Gumda had experienced
little difficulty in putting him to death.

Gumda became raja of that country, and when he had settled his affairs,
he sent for his mother to come and reside with him. The raja, whom
Gumda had previously served, sought his friendship, and withdrew his
command to Gumda to search for the elephant's bones until he found
them. The prowess of Gumda caused him to deprecate his anger. He said,
"If I offend him, he will kill me as he did the jugi raja, and take
my wife and kingdom, as he did his."


Once upon a time there were seven brothers. At first they were
very poor, but afterwards they became comparatively rich, and were
in position to lay out a little money at usury. The affairs of the
youngest prospered most, so that before long he became the wealthiest
of them all.

Each of the seven brothers planted fruit trees, and every day after
they returned from their work, before they sat down to meat, they
watered them. In process of time all the trees flowered, but the
flowers on the eldest brother's trees withered and dropped off the day
they appeared. The trees of the other brothers failed to ripen their
fruit, but those of the youngest brother were laden with delicious
fruit which ripened to perfection. Five of the brothers said to him,
"You are very fortunate in having such a splendid crop;" but the
eldest brother was envious of his good fortune, and resolved to be
revenged upon him.

The youngest brother brought up two puppies, whom he named Lipi and
Lapra. They turned out good hunting dogs, and by their aid their master
used to keep the family larder well supplied. The others were pleased
to see so much game brought to the house. One day they said to him,
"Take us also to where you get your large game." To this he agreed,
and they accompanied him to his usual hunting ground. Game was
plentiful, but they could kill nothing, although every time he shot
an arrow he brought down his animal. Five of his brothers praised
him for his skill, and accuracy of aim, but the eldest brother, not
having succeeded in bagging anything himself, envied him still more,
and was confirmed in his desire for revenge.

It so happened that one day all the brothers, with the exception of the
eldest and the youngest, went out to their work. The eldest brother
finding himself alone with his youngest brother proposed that they
should go together to the hill for the purpose of procuring fibre to
make ropes. He said, "Come let us go to the hill to cut lar." [11]
His brother replied, "Come, let us set out." He, however, wished
to take his dogs with him, but his brother said, "Why should you
tire them by taking them so far? Leave them behind." But he replied,
"I shall not go, unless you allow me to take them with me. How shall
we be able to bring home venison if they do not accompany us? They
may kill some game on the way." As he insisted, he was permitted to
do as he desired, and they set out for the hill.

As they went on their way they came to a spring, and the elder said,
"Tie up the two dogs here. I know all this forest, and there is no
game to be found in it." The younger was averse to leaving his dogs
behind him, but as his brother seemed determined he should do so,
he tied them with a stout rope to a tree. His brother said, "See that
you make them secure, so that they may not break loose and run away,
and be lost."

A low hill lay between them, and the high one on which the trees
grew which yielded the lar. This they surmounted, and descending into
the valley that divided them began the ascent, and soon reached the
place where their work was to be. They soon cut and peeled sufficient
lar, and sitting down twisted it into strong ropes. Just as they had
prepared to return home, the elder brother seized the younger, and
bound him with the ropes they had made. He then grasped his sickle
with the intention of putting him to death. The helpless young man
thought of his dogs, and in a loud voice wailed as follows;--

            Come, come, Lipi and Lapra,
            Cross the low hill
            On to the slope of the high.

He called them again and again. The dogs heard the voice, and
struggled to get loose, and at length, by a great effort, they
succeeded in breaking the ropes with which they were bound, and
ran in the direction from which the sound proceeded. Now and again
the cries ceased, and they stood still until they again heard them,
when they ran as before. Having reached the valley that separated the
two hills, they could no longer hear the wailing as before, and they
were greatly perplexed. They ran hither and thither, hoping to catch
it again, but not doing so they directed their course to the large
hill, on reaching the foot of which it again became audible. They
now recognized the voice of their master, and ran rapidly forward.

When the elder brother saw the dogs approaching, he quickly aimed a
blow with the sickle at his younger brother's head, but he, jerking
aside, escaped. Before there was time for him to strike again, the
dogs had arrived, and their master hounded them upon his assailant
and they quickly tore him to pieces. They then bit through the ropes
with which his brother had bound him, and set him at liberty. He
then returned home accompanied by his dogs, and when they enquired of
him where his brother was, he replied, "He left me to follow a deer,
I cannot say what direction he took. We did not meet again." He wept
as he related this, and they enquired, "Why do you weep?" He said,
"My two dogs lay down on the ground, and howled, and fear possesses
me that some wild beast has devoured my brother."

The next day a party went in search of him, and found him as the dogs
had left him. When they saw him lying torn and bloody, they said,
"Some wild beast has done this."

They brought the body home, and committed it to the flames of the
funeral pile, and sorrowfully performed all the ceremonies usual on
such occasions.

After the death of the elder brother, they all lived together in
peace and harmony.



There once lived a certain raja, who had three wives. The two elder had
two sons each, and the younger only one, whose name was Lelha. [12]
The four sons of the first two wives were very friendly with each
other, being seldom separate, but they despised Lelha, and never
permitted him to join them in any of their pastimes or sports.

The raja had a plot of ground set apart for a flower garden, but
there was nothing in it. One day a certain Jugi came to him, and said,
"Oh! raja, if you fill your garden with all kinds of flowering plants,
your whole city will appear enchanting." Having said this, the Jugi
went to his home. The raja was greatly affected by what the Jugi had
said, and was immediately seized with a fit of the sulks. There was
an apartment in the palace set apart for the exclusive use of those
who happened to be in that state of mind. Such an one shut himself
up in this chamber until the fit wore off, or until he was persuaded
to be himself again.

The raja refused his evening meal, and as was his wont, when in this
frame of mind, retired to the sulking apartment, and lay down. The
two elder ranis having been informed of what had occurred, hasted
to the raja, and said, "Oh! raja, why are you sulking?" He replied,
"This morning a Jugi came to me and said, that if I planted flowering
shrubs in my garden the whole city would appear enchanting. If any
one will do this work for me, I will rise, if not, I shall remain
here." The ranis then addressed him thus, "Oh! raja, rise up, and eat
and drink." The raja replied, "Let the young men come to me, I will do
as you desire." The two ranis then left, and calling their sons, sent
them to their father. Coming into the presence of the raja they said,
"Wherefore father are you sulking?" The raja replied, "If you plant
flowers in my flower garden I shall be comforted, and shall leave
my couch." They said, "Is it on this account you are distressed? We
shall cause the garden to be filled with flowers in a short time." On
receiving this assurance the raja left his bed, and partook of food,
and was refreshed. Lelha's mother now appeared on the scene, and
addressing the raja, said, "Wherefore, raja are you sulky?" He replied,
"Who told you I was sulky?" She replied, "A shopkeeper gave me the
information." Then the raja got angry, and ordered her to leave,
but she said, "If you do not tell me why you are sulking I will not
depart, am not I also your humble maidservant? Unless you tell me,
I will not go, I will die here rather than leave." The raja relented,
and related to her all the words of the Jugi. She then returned home.

Her son Lelha entered the house soon after her arrival. He had been
engaged in some field sports, and being wearied and hungry, said to
his mother, "Give me some cooked rice." She was annoyed with him
and said, "Although the raja is ill, your first cry is for boiled
rice." Lelha on hearing this went to his father, and enquired what
was wrong. But the raja flying into a rage scolded him, saying, "Go
away Lelha. What do you want here? Never come near me again. Did not I
build a house for your mother and you at the extreme end of the street,
away from here? Be off, or I shall beat you." To which Lelha replied,
"Oh! father raja, am not I also a son of yours? Let me be foolish
or otherwise, still, I am your son, and unless you inform me of what
has grieved you, I shall die rather than leave this." Then the raja
told him also. He said, "It is because I do not see flowers in the
garden." "Oh!" said Lelha, "Is that what distresses you?" He then left.

The raja's four elder sons caused all manner of flowering shrubs and
trees to be planted in the garden, and in a short time it was in a
blaze of colour, so much so, that the whole city was as if lighted

Just at this time, when every tree, shrub and plant was covered with
blossom another Jugi, named Koema Jugi, came to the city and said
to one and another, "You, the citizens of this city, are covering
yourselves with renown, but if you attach hiras [13] and manis [14] to
the branches, you will add renown to renown." The Jugi's words reached
the raja, and he was so much affected by them, that he immediately
began to sulk, and on being questioned by his two ranis, he replied,
"Do you not remember the words of the Koema Jugi?" They said, "Yes,
we remember. He said, 'if you place hiras and manis in this garden
the whole country will be resplendent'." "On that account then, I am
sulking, and if I do not see hiras and manis, I shall not partake of
any food." At the raja's words the two ranis returned sorrowfully to
their apartments.

At that moment their four sons entered the house and asked for
food. The ranis were annoyed, and said, "The raja, your father,
is sulking, and you must have food and drink." On learning their
father's state the youths were distressed on his account, and went
to him weeping, and enquired why he was sulking. He related to them
the words of Koema Jugi, and added, "Unless I see hiras and manis
attached to the branches of the trees in my flower garden, I shall
not rise from my couch." His four sons replied, "Is it for this reason
you are grieving? We will search for, and bring them, and if we fail,
then sulk again, and refuse your food, and die of hunger, and we will
not prevent you, only listen to us this time and get up." The raja
was persuaded to rise, and having partaken of food he was refreshed.


The raja had planted flowering shrubs in his garden, but the Indarpuri
Sadoms [15] ate up all the flowers as they appeared, and so he again
began to sulk. He said, "I planted bushes, but I see no flowers. What
reason is there for my remaining alive?" And going to the sulking
chamber he lay down, and as usual refused to eat. Then there was
confusion in the household, and running hither and thither. The two
ranis went to him, but he was annoyed, and ordered them to leave,
saying, "I will not rise, by your telling me," so they returned
weeping, each to her own apartment.

Just then their four sons returned from hunting, and demanded
food. Their mothers were annoyed, and said, "You young gentlemen
are hungry, and must have food, that the raja is sulking is nothing
to you, if you are fasting." On hearing this the sons went to their
father, and enquired, "Oh! father, wherefore are you sulking?" The
raja replied, "Oh! my sons, I am sulking because I see no flowers in
my garden. Unless I see flowers in my garden, I shall not remain in
this world." His sons replied, "Give us three days, and if at the end
of that time you see no flowers, then you may sulk." He was persuaded
to rise, and having bathed, and partaken of food, he was refreshed.

Just then Lelha arrived, and addressing the raja said, "Oh! raja,
what ails you?" The raja on seeing Lelha was angry, and scolded him
severely. He said, "Has Lelha come here? Drive him away at once." Lelha
left without uttering another word.

After three days the raja began again to sulk, because there were still
no flowers to be seen in his garden. The Indarpuri Sadoms came about
mid-night and ate up all the buds. The raja's four elder sons when
watching could not remain awake for one hour, and so the Indarpuri
Sadoms came nightly and devoured all the buds that should have burst
into flower in the morning, so that not one solitary blossom was to
be seen. For this reason the raja again began to sulk, and no one
dared to say anything to him.

At this juncture Lelha's mother went from her own house to a shop
to buy rice. The shopkeeper refused to supply her. He said, "The
raja is sulking, and she comes here to buy rice. I will not weigh
it, so go." Lelha's mother went hastily home, and encountered Lelha
returning from a stroll. Lelha asked for food. He said, "Oh! mother,
give me cooked rice quickly." She rebuked him, and said, "The raja is
sulking. The shopkeeper refused to give me rice, how can I give you
food? I am a prey to grief, and here my young gentleman is hungry. Go
to the raja."

Lelha did as his mother ordered him, and went to the apartment where
the raja was, and called several times, "Oh! father, get up." At
length the raja asked, "Who are you? Do not irritate me. Go away at
once." Lelha replied, "I am your humble slave and son, Lelha." His
father said, "Wherefore have you come here? Lelha, Go home, or else
I shall beat you. What do you want here? If you go, go at once,
if not, I shall have you chastised." Lelha replied, "Because you,
Oh! raja, are sulking. The shopkeeper in the bazaar refused to
sell to my mother rice, saying, 'something is amiss with the raja,
I cannot let you have it.'" The raja then said, "Go, and bring the
shopkeeper here." To which Lelha replied, "Why are you sulking? If
you do not tell me, it were better for me to die here. I cannot leave
you. I have come here fasting, not having eaten anything to-day." The
raja said, "Your four brothers have not been able to do anything,
and what can I hope from telling you about it, Lelha?" Lelha replied,
"It is still possible that I may accomplish something, but although I
should not, yet I am a son of yours. Do tell me. If you die, I shall
die also. We will depart this life together. I cannot return home." The
raja then thought within himself, I will tell him, and let him go. If
I do not do so, Lelha may die along with me. Then addressing Lelha,
he said, "It is nothing child, only I see no flowers in my garden,
and therefore I am sulking. Although your four brothers watched
three nights, still I see no flowers." Lelha then said, "If my
brothers watched three nights, see me watch one." The raja replied,
"Very good my son, let us leave this apartment."

The raja went to bathe, and Lelha going to the shopkeeper bought
several kinds of grain, which he carried home and gave to his mother,
saying, "Roast a seer of each, and cook some rice for me. I have
succeeded in persuading my father to rise. He has bathed and dined,
and is refreshed. He was sulking because he can see no flowers in
his garden. It was with great difficulty that I prevailed upon him
to get up." His mother said, "What does my Lord want with roasted
grain?" Lelha replied, "Let me do with it as I chose, you prepare
it. I will take it with me at night when I go to watch in the flower
garden." His mother said, "Have you forgotten your brothers' threats
to beat you?" Lelha replied, "My brothers may beat me, but no other
person. What help is there for it?"

At nightfall, Lelha, having supped, tied up in the four corners of
his plaid four kinds of roasted grain, and entering the garden climbed
up on a raised platform, and began his vigil.

After a short time he untied one of his parcels of roasted grain,
and began leisurely to eat it, one grain at a time. Just as he had
consumed the last one, an Indarpuri Sadom descended from the East and
alighted in the garden to browse upon the flowers. Lelha seeing it,
crept noiselessly up, and laid hold of it, and at the same instant its
rider, an Indarpuri Kuri, [16] exclaimed, "Hands off! Lelha. Hands
off! Lelha. Touch me not." Lelha replied, to the Indarpuri Kuri,
"Besides touching you, I will bind and detain you till morning. You
have become bold. You have caused my father to fast; but I have
captured you to-night. Where will you go?" "Let me go," she said,
"I will bless you." Lelha rejoined, "You are deceiving me." The
Indarpuri Kuri made answer, "I am not deceiving you. I shall give
you whatever blessing you may desire. Place your hand upon my head,
Lelha." He did so, and a lock of hair adhered to his hand, when he
withdrew it. The Indarpuri Kuri then said, "When you desire anything,
take that lock of hair into your hand, and say, Oh! Indarpuri Kuri,
give me this or that, and instantly you shall receive it. Of a
truth it shall be so. I shall never fail you." Lelha then released
the Indarpuri Sadom, and it mounted up into the air, and he and his
Indarpuri Rider vanished into space.

By the time Lelha had eaten all the roasted grain from another
corner of his plaid, another Indarpuri Sadom with his Indarpuri Kuri
rider descended from the West. Lelha caught these as he had done the
first. This Kuri was a younger sister of the other, and she gave a
like blessing to Lelha before he released her horse.

Lelha now began to eat his third parcel of roasted grain, and just as
he had finished it he saw another Indarpuri Sadom with an Indarpuri
Kuri rider descend from the North, and alight in the garden. Lelha
also captured these. The rider was a younger sister of the last. She
also gave Lelha a blessing, and was allowed to go.

At cockcrow, Lelha, having eaten the last grain of his fourth parcel,
looked up and beheld an Indarpuri Sadom with an Indarpuri Kuri rider
descend into the garden from the North. She was the youngest of the
sisters. Lelha crept stealthily up, and laid hold of the horse's
mane. The Indarpuri Kuri then exclaimed, "Hands off! Lelha. Hands
off! Lelha." Then Lelha replied, "You Lelha greatly this morning. It
is almost dawn, where can you go to escape punishment?" Then the
Indarpuri Kuri said, "Oh! Lelha, We are four sisters, daughters of one
mother, I will give you a blessing." Lelha replied, "In this way three
persons have fled. You also appear the same." The Indarpuri Kuri said,
"We four sisters have one blessing. Place your hand upon my head, and
release me." Lelha did so, and the Indarpuri Sadom on being liberated
sailed off into the sky with his Indarpuri rider. Lelha tied the four
locks of hair of the Indarpuri Kuris each in a corner of his plaid,
as he had before done with the roasted grain. When the day fully
dawned he returned to his home weeping, for his four brothers seeing
the bushes laden with blossom were envious of him, and had hurled him
headlong to the ground from off the raised platform on which he sat.

On reaching home his mother said to him, "You see your brothers have
beaten you. I warned you against going." Lelha replied, "What help
is there for it? My brothers beat me. No one else did. I must bear
it." His mother said, "Then, why do you let others know?"

In the morning the raja said, "Last night Lelha was watching. I will
go and take a look at the garden." He went and found a perfect sea
of blossom, the sight of which almost overcame him.

It so happened that as the raja gazed upon the fairy scene around him,
Koema Jugi turned up, and addressing the raja said, "You are lost
in wonder, but if you hang hiras and manis on the branches the whole
country will be resplendent. Then your wonder and amazement will be
increased twentyfold."


The raja's garden was without an equal in the world, but the words of
Koema Jugi had caused him to become discontented with it, and because
there were neither hiras nor manis hanging from the branches he, as
before, began to sulk. They reasoned with him saying, "Do not grieve
over it. We will bring hiras and manis." So he rose, and having bathed
partook of some refreshment.

About this time Lelha's mother went to a shop to purchase food. On
seeing her the shopkeeper said, "Something is amiss with the raja,
and she is hungry, and comes here giving annoyance. Go away. I will
not weigh anything for you." So she returned home empty-handed. As she
entered the house she encountered Lelha just returned from hunting,
who said, "Oh! mother, give me cooked rice." His mother replied,
"Something is wrong with the raja, and here my young lord is fasting,
and cries for food. He is greatly concerned about his own affairs."

Lelha went at once to the raja, and enquired "What ails you,
father?" The raja replied, "Is there anything ailing me? Has Lelha
come here? I will beat him shortly." Lelha said, "Do with me what you
please. Why are you sulking? If you do not tell me, although it should
cost me my life, I will not leave, rather slay me here at once." The
raja thought within himself, "He annoys me, I will tell him to get
rid of him." So he said, "Your brothers have gone in search of hiras
and manis, and it is because I do not see the trees in my garden
adorned with these precious stones that I am sulking. Lelha said,
"I will also go." His father said, "Do not go child." But Lelha was
determined, and disregarded his father's command.

Lelha went to the bazaar and purchased rice and dal, and his mother
when she saw him bringing them home with him, said, "What is wrong? You
are completely out of breath." Lelha replied, "My brothers have gone
to search for hiras and manis, and I also am busy preparing to follow
them." She tried to dissuade him saying, "Although the mean fellows
beat you, still you will not keep away from them." Lelha quickly
replied, "What help is there for it, mother? Let my brothers beat
me or not, what is that to me? I must bear it all." So his mother
prepared food, and Lelha, having partaken of it, set out.

He went to the stable, and saddled the lame horse, as his brothers
had taken away the good ones, and mounting rode to the outskirts
of the city. He then dismounted, and turned the lame horse loose,
and went into the raja's flower garden, and said, "Oh! Indarpuri
Kuri, give me a horse instantly. My brothers have left me behind,
and gone I know not where. Give me such a horse as will enable me
to reach them at once." Immediately a horse was at his side, and
in a few seconds he was in sight of his brothers. He then alighted
from his horse, and said "Oh! Indarpuri Kuri, I return your horse,"
and instantly it disappeared, and he overtook his brothers on foot.

When his brothers saw him, they said, "He has overtaken us." Some of
them said, "Catch him and beat him," others said, "No, let him alone,
he will do our cooking. We can go in search of hiras and manis,
and leave him to guard our camp. Come let us push on, we have now
got a good guard for our camp." This pleased all, and they said,
"It is now evening, let us pitch our camp for the night." They did
so, and Lelha soon had supper ready, of which having partaken they
all retired to rest.

In the morning Lelha again acted as cook, and while it was yet early
set breakfast before his brothers, and they having eaten, mounted
their horses, and went in search of hiras and manis. They were now
a month's journey distant from their own home, and the raja of the
country in which they were, had just opened a new bazaar. It was a
large and beautiful bazaar, and an Indarpuri Kuri had a stall it. This
Indarpuri Kuri had given out, that whoever would go and come twelve
kos seven times within an hour should be her husband.

The four sons of the raja, who had come in search of hiras and manis
hearing this said, "Some one from amongst us four brothers must marry
this girl. Let us exercise our horses, it is possible that some one
of them may do the distance in the specified time." They had left
home in search of hiras and manis, and now were scheming to secure
the Indarpuri Kuri as the wife of one of them. So they returned
to camp, and sitting down began to discuss the subject. They said,
"If our horses are well exercised, no doubt, but that they will be
able to run the distance in the time. Therefore, let us diligently
train our horses, so that they may be able to accomplish the task."

While they were thus engaged, Lelha said, "What is it, brothers,
that you are discussing?" His brothers rebuked him, saying, "Why are
you eavesdropping? We will beat you." They did not, however, beat him,
as they feared he would return home, and leave them without a cook. So
he cooked the supper and set it before them, and when they had eaten,
they retired to rest.

In the morning Lelha again prepared the food, and his four brothers
having breakfasted, mounted and rode off to the bazaar, and there
exercised their horses. After they had left Lelha collected all the
brass vessels, and what other property there was, and carefully hid
them away. Then he called to the Indarpuri Kuri, "Oh! Indarpuri Kuri,
give me a horse," and instantly, just such a horse as he desired
stood beside him. He mounted and galloping away soon overtook his
brothers. He saluted them, but they did not recognize him. He said
to them, "Wherefore, brothers, have you brought your horses to
a standstill? Make them race." They replied, "We were waiting for
you. We are tired. It is your turn now." Lelha immediately switched
up his horse, and away it flew at such a pace, that it could scarcely
be seen. That day his horse ran twelve kos there and back three times
within an hour. At the end of the race soldiers tried to lay hold
of Lelha's horse, but he called out, "Do not touch him. He will not
allow you to lay a finger on me." The soldiers said, "The raja has
given orders, that the horse that ran three, or five, or seven times
is to be brought before him." Lelha replied, "Go, and tell the raja,
that the horse bites, so we could not stop him. The raja will not
be displeased with you." He then rode away to the camp, and having
returned the horse to the Indarpuri Kuri he began to prepare the
evening meal, which was ready by the time his four brothers arrived.

After supper they began to talk over the events of the day, wondering
who owned the horse that had run so well. Lelha drew near, and said,
"What is it, brothers, that you are talking about?" Some said, "Beat
him, what has he got to do listening?" Others said, "Do not beat him,
he cooks for us." So the matter ended, and all lay down for the night.

In the morning Lelha again prepared the food, and his brothers having
breakfasted, mounted their horses, and rode off to the bazaar, where
they raced as usual. After they had gone, Lelha gathered all their
property together, and hid it as he had done on the day previous. Then,
mounting an Indarpuri Sadom, he followed his brothers, and on coming
up with them saluted them, but they did not recognize him as their
brother. Then a conversation similar to that of the previous day
passed between Lelha and his brothers. This time Lelha's horse ran
the distance, there and back, five times within the hour. The raja's
soldiers again attempted to stop Lelha's horse, but he told them that
it was in the habit of biting, so they allowed him to pass, and he
galloped off to the camp, and returning the horse to the Indarpuri
Kuri began to prepare the evening meal. When his brothers arrived
Lelha set food before them, and they ate and drank. After they had
supped they sat and talked about the wonderful horse, and its feat
that day. Lelha again enquired what they were talking about, but they
rebuked him saying, "Do not listen. It is not necessary for you to
know what we are speaking about." They all then retired for the night.

Early next morning Lelha set about preparing breakfast, and his
brothers, having partaken of it, set out for the bazaar. After their
departure Lelha gathered everything together, and hid them as before,
and then called upon Indarpuri Kuri for a horse. The horse came, and
Lelha mounted and galloped after his brothers. On overtaking them he
saluted, and then said, "Wherefore, brothers, do you stand still? Race
your horses." They replied, "It is your turn now. We have run, and our
horses are tired." Lelha then started his horse, and it ran twelve kos
there, and twelve kos back, seven times within the hour. The raja's
soldiers again attempted to capture Lelha's horse, but he prevented
them, and so returned to the camp. When he had returned the horse
to the Indarpuri Kuri he resumed his office of cook, and had supper
ready by the time his brothers returned. They sat down together, and
began to discuss the wonderful performance of the horse which had that
day done the distance seven times in one hour. Lelha again enquired,
"What is it that you are talking about, brothers?" Some one said,
"Beat him. He has no right to be listening," but another said,
"Do not beat him, he cooks our food." When the four brothers were
tired talking Lelha set supper before them, and having supped, they
lay down to sleep.

Next morning Lelha cooked the breakfast as usual, and his brothers
having partaken of it, mounted their horses, and rode off to the
bazaar. After they had left Lelha put everything out of sight, as
usual. Then he desired the Indarpuri Kuri to give him a horse, and
having mounted, he followed his brothers, and on coming near saluted
them as before, but again they failed to recognize him.


On the seventh day Lelha again followed his brothers to the
bazaar. He begged the Indarpuri Kuri to give him a horse that
would do the distance there and back seven times within the hour,
and at the end would fall down dead, and also to have another horse
ready for him to mount. The Indarpuri Kuri gave him his desire and
he rode off to the bazaar, and again saluted his brothers, and at
the same time pushed his horse close up to them. They called out,
"Keep your horse back, he will crush us." Lelha then enquired why
they were standing still. They replied, "We were waiting for you." So
Lelha put his horse to the gallop, and did the distance there and
back seven times within an hour. On his return the last time the
soldiers attempted to lay hold of the horse, but Lelha said, "Let
him alone, I will go myself." At the same instant his horse fell,
and he leapt from it, and having returned it to the Indarpuri Kuri,
he mounted the other, and rode from the race course to the bazaar,
and was united in wedlock to the Indarpuri Kuri.

After the marriage he informed his bride that he was in search of
hiras and manis for his father's flower garden. She informed him,
that lying on the breast of her elder sister, who had been sleeping
for twelve years, was a large quantity of hiras. "To obtain them you
must first," she said, "buy two bundles of grass, two goats, and a
pair of shoes, and make two ropes each two hundred cubits long. My
sister is guarded by an elephant, a tiger, and a dog. On entering you
will first encounter the elephant, and you must throw him a bundle of
grass. A little farther on you will meet the tiger, you must give him
a goat. Then you will see the dog, and you must throw him a shoe. When
you are returning you must do the same. Throw a shoe to the dog, a goat
to the tiger, and a sheaf of grass to the elephant. You must lose no
time in possessing yourself of the hiras you will find on my sister's
breast. If you delay, her army may take you prisoner." She also said,
"My sister's house is situated on an island in a large lake, and you
can only reach it by hiring a boat. The door of her house is a large
heavy stone, which you must remove before gaining an entrance. On the
island there is a Sinjo tree, [17] with branches on the North side,
and on the South. On the branches of the South side there are the
young of hiras and manis, but on those of the North side there is
nothing. On the South side there are five branches, and within the
fruit there are manis. Do not forget this. The large hira, which
glitters on my sister's breast, is the mother hira." Just as she
concluded the foregoing instructions the cock crew, and she added,
"See that you remember all I have told you."

Then Lelha left his bride to return to his brothers. As he went he
remembered that they would be sure to abuse him for having been
absent, so he collected a large number of shells, and stringing
them together, hung them round his neck, and went dancing to the
camp. When his brothers saw him, in the dress of a merryandrew they
rebuked him severely.


Lelha's excuse for his absence was as follows. He said, "You,
my brothers, always leave me here alone in the camp. Yesterday
several shepherds came, and forcibly carried me away. They kept me
awake all night. They tied these shells round my neck and made me
dance. They also made me drive cattle round and round. I had no rest
all night. They also shewed me hiras and manis."

Lelha's brothers eagerly enquired, "Where did you see the hiras and
manis? Come, show us the place at once." Lelha replied, "We must first
buy food for the hiras and manis." So they went to the bazaar to buy
food for the hiras and manis. Lelha first bought two goats, and his
brothers abused him, and said, "Will hiras and manis eat these?" Some
one of them said, "Slap him." Another said, "Do not slap him, they
may perhaps eat them." Then he bought a pair of shoes, at which again
they reviled him. Then he bought two ropes, when they again reviled
him. Lastly he purchased two bundles of grass, and having provided
these necessary articles, they went and hired a boat. The horses of
the four brothers were dead, so they had to proceed on foot to where
the boat lay.

After sailing for some time they reached an island, and landed. They
quickly found the house of the Indarpuri Kuri. It was closed by a large
stone lying over the entrance. Lelha ordered his brothers to remove
it, but they were displeased and said, "How do you expect to find
hiras and manis under this stone." Lelha said, "Truly, my brothers,
they are under the stone." He pressed them to attempt the removal
of the stone, so they, and others to the number of fifty tried their
strength but the stone seemed immovable. Then Lelha said, "Stand by,
and allow me to try." So putting to his hand, he easily removed it,
and revealed the entrance to the mansion of the Indarpuri Kuri. His
brothers were so astounded at the strength he displayed that they
lost the power of speech.

Lelha then said to his brothers, "Take one of these ropes, and bind it
round me, and lower me down, and when you feel me shaking the rope,
then quickly pull me up. I go to find hiras." His brothers quickly
bound the rope round his body, and he, taking the goats, the pair of
shoes, and the bundles of grass, descended.

A short distance from where he reached the ground, he found a door,
which was guarded by an elephant bound by the foot to a stake. To
him he threw a bundle of grass and passed on. At the next door he
found a tiger, likewise chained, and as he approached, it opened its
jaws as if to devour him. To it, he gave a goat, and was allowed to
pass. At the third door was a dog. He threw a shoe to it, and when
the dog was engaged biting it, he passed through. Then he saw the hira
sparkling upon the bosom of the sleeping Indarpuri Kuri. Going near,
he snatched it up, and fled. The dog, however, barred his exit but
he threw the other shoe to it, and passed on. The tiger had devoured
the goat he had given to it, and was now alert. To it he gave the
other goat, and hurried on. The elephant then opposed him, but the
remaining bundle of grass was sufficient to divert his attention,
and he passed through the last door. Then violently shaking the rope
his brothers speedily hauled him up.

Then they went to their boat, and rowed to another part of the island,
where the Sinjo tree grew. They all climbed the tree, but Lelha plucked
the five fruits on the branch to the South, while his brothers plucked
a large number from the North side.

They then returned to their boat and rowed back to the place from
which they had started. From there they went to the house of Lelha's
bride. When she heard of their arrival she ordered refreshments to be
prepared for them. Her servants also all came, and gave Lelha and his
brothers oil, and sent them to bathe. On their return from bathing,
their feet were washed by servants, and they were then taken into
the house.

After they were seated Lelha's brothers began to whisper to each
other, saying, "We do not know of what caste these people are, to
whose house he has brought us to eat food. He will cause us to lose
caste." Lelha heard what they were saying, and in explanation said,
"Not so, brothers. This is my wife's house." They replied, "It is all
right then." So they ate and drank heartily, and afterwards prepared
to return home.


The journey was to be by boat. Lelha sent his brothers on ahead in one
boat, and he and his wife followed in another. There was a distance
of two or three kos between the boats.

Lelha's brothers as they sailed along came to a certain ghat at which
a raja was bathing. He was raja of the country through which they
were passing. He demanded from Lelha's brothers to know what they had
in their boat. They replied, "We have hiras and manis with us." Then
the raja said, "Shew them to me. You may be thieves." They replied,
"No, they are inside these Sinjo fruits." The raja said, "Break one, I
wish to see what they are like." So the brothers broke one, but nothing
was found in it. Then the raja called his soldiers, and ordered them
to bind the four brothers. So the soldiers seized and bound them, and
carried them off to prison. Just then Lelha's boat arrived. He was in
time to see his brothers pass within the prison doors. Having seen the
four brothers in safe custody the raja returned to the bathing ghat,
and seeing Lelha he demanded to know what he had in his boat. Lelha
answered, "We have hiras and manis as our cargo." The raja then said,
"Shew them to me, I would fain look upon them." Lelha said, "You wish
to see hiras and manis without any trouble to yourself. If I show
you them, what will you give me in return? There are hiras and manis
in this Sinjo fruit." The raja replied, "Those who came before you
deceived me. I have no doubt, but that you will do so also." Lelha
said, "What will you give me? Make an offer, and I shall shew you
them at once." The raja replied, "I have one daughter, her I will
give to you, and along with her an estate, if there are hiras and
manis in that Sinjo fruit, and if there are none in it, I will keep
you prisoner all your lifetime." Lelha immediately broke one of the
Sinjo fruits, and five hiras and manis rolled out. When the raja saw
it he was confounded, but what could he do? According to his promise,
he gave him his daughter and an estate.

The marriage ceremony being over, Lelha was invited to partake of the
raja's hospitality, but he refused, saying, "If you set my brothers
at liberty I shall eat, but not unless you do so." So the brothers
were released, and taken to the bath. After they had bathed, their
feet were washed, and they were led into the palace to the feast.

The brothers, after they were seated, began to whisper to each other,
saying, "Whose house is this? Of what caste are the people? Does he
wish to make us lose our caste?" But Lelha reassured them by saying,
"Not so, my brothers. I have espoused the raja's daughter." Hearing
this they were relieved, and all enjoyed the marriage feast.


Then they made preparations to continue their journey. Lelha again
sent his four brothers first, and he followed with his two wives.

After a sail of a few hours they entered the territory of another
raja, and came upon his bathing ghat. The raja was bathing there at
the time, and the boat passing, he enquired what her cargo was. The
brothers answered, "We have hiras and manis on board." The raja said,
"I would see them." They replied, "They are in the boat following
us." The raja was displeased with their answer, and ordered them to
be seized as vagrants.

Lelha's boat came alongside the bathing ghat just as his four brothers
were led off to prison, and the raja seeing it, asked Lelha what
cargo he carried. Lelha replied, "Our cargo is hiras and manis." The
raja begged Lelha to shew them to him, but he refused saying, "What
will you give for a sight of them? Promise something, and you can
see them." The raja said, "Of a truth, if you can shew me hiras and
manis I will give you my daughter. I have one, a virgin, her I will
give you, and I will also confer upon you an estate."

Then Lelha, seizing a Sinjo fruit, broke it, and out rolled five
hiras and manis, which when the raja saw he marvelled greatly. He
honourably fulfilled his engagement, and Lelha's marriage with his
daughter was celebrated forthwith.

The wedding over Lelha was conducted to the bath, and afterwards
invited to a banquet; but he declined saying, "So long as you detain
my brothers in confinement, I cannot partake of your hospitality." So
they were brought to the palace, and their feet bathed, and then
ushered into the banqueting room. After they were seated they began
to whisper to each other, "What caste do these people belong to,
with whom he expects us to eat? Does he intend to make us break our
caste?" Lelha hearing them, said, "Not so, my brothers. This is my
father-in-law's house." Thus were their doubts removed, and they ate
and drank with much pleasure.


The journey homewards was resumed in the morning, the boats in the
same order as previously.

Lelha's four brothers were envious of his good fortune, and on the way
they talked about him, and decided that he must be put to death. They
said, "How can we put him out of the way? If we do not make away with
him, on our return home, he will be sure to secure the succession to
our father's kingdom." Having come to this conclusion the next thing
was, how could it be accomplished, for Lelha was far more powerful than
they were. It was only by stratagem that they could hope to accomplish
their purpose, so they said, "We will invite him to a feast and when
he stands with a foot on either boat, before stepping into ours,
we will push the boats apart and he will fall into the river and
be drowned. We must get his wives to join in the plot, for without
their aid we cannot carry it into execution." During the day they
found means to communicate with Lelha's wives. They said to them,
"We will make a feast on our boat. Make him come on board first,
and when he has a foot on each boat you push yours back, and we
will do the same to ours, and he will fall into the water, and be
drowned. We are the sons of a raja, and our country is very large. We
will take you with us and make you ranis." Lelha's wives pretended to
agree to their proposal; but they afterwards told him all. They said,
"Do as they wish, but you will not be drowned. We will remain faithful
to you, and you will reach home before us."

So the four brothers prepared a sumptuous feast, and the boats were
brought close to each other to enable Lelha and his wives to go on
board. One of Lelha's wives tied a knot on his waist cloth, as a
token that they would remain true to him. He then preceded them in
going into the other boat, and just as he had a foot on each gunwale,
the boats were pushed asunder, and Lelha fell into the water. Having
thus got rid, as they thought, of Lelha, the brothers made all possible
speed homewards.


At the bottom of the river a bell sprang into existence, and Lelha was
found lying asleep in it. Then he awoke and sat up, and loosening the
knot which his wife had tied on his waist cloth, said, "Oh! Indarpuri
Kuri, give me at once food and drink, tobacco and fire," and on
the instant his wants were supplied. So he ate and drank, and was
refreshed. Then he prepared his pipe, and when he had lit it he said,
"Oh! Indarpuri Kuri, give me a fully equipped horse that will carry
me home before the tobacco in this pipe is consumed." The last word
had scarcely escaped his lips when a horse stood beside him. It was
a fierce animal, of a blue colour, and no fly could alight on its
skin. It was fully equipped, and impatient to start. Lelha, still
smoking his pipe, mounted, and his steed at one bound cleared the
river, although it was seven or eight kos broad, and flying like the
wind, landed him at home before the tobacco in his pipe was consumed.

The hiras and manis were in the possession of Lelha's wives. His
brothers wheedled them into giving them up, saying they will be safer
with us.

Lelha went to his mother's house and said to her, "Tell no one of my
being here." He had alighted from his horse on the outskirts of the
city, and returned it to the Indarpuri Kuri.

A period of ten days elapsed before Lelha's brothers and his wives
arrived. The latter declined to accompany the former at once to the
raja's palace. They said, "Let your mothers come, and conduct us,
as is usual when a bride enters her husband's house." The two elder
ranis then came, and the four sons went to the raja's flower garden
and hung the hiras and manis on the branches of the trees, and the
whole countryside was instantly lighted up by the sheen of the precious
stones. The saying of the Koema Jugi was fulfilled to the letter.

Lelha also sent his mother to welcome his wives, but when the elder
ranis saw her coming, they reviled her and drove her away. They would
not permit her to come near. She returned home weeping. "You told me,"
she said, "to go and welcome your wives, and I have been abused. When
will you learn wisdom?" Lelha ran into the house, and brought a ring,
and giving it to his mother, said, "Take this ring, and place it
in the lap of one of them." She took the ring, and gave it to one
of Lelha's wives, and immediately they all rose, and followed her
laughing, to their new home.

The elder ranis went and informed their sons of what had happened,
but they said, "They are Lelha's wives. What can we do?"


The Indarpuri Kuri whom Lelha had robbed of her hira now awoke, and
at once missed her precious jewel. She knew that Lelha had stolen it
from her, and summoning her army to her standard marched upon Lelha's
father's capital, to which she laid siege, and before many hours had
elapsed, the raja was a prisoner in her hands.

This Indarpuri Kuri said to him, "Will you give up the hiras and manis,
or will you fight?" The raja sent the following message to his four
sons, "Will you fight to retain possession of the hiras and manis,
or will you deliver them up?" They were afraid, so they gave answer,
"We will not. Lelha knows all about the hiras and manis. We do not."

The raja then sent and called Lelha, and enquired, "Will you shew
fight, Lelha, or will you give up the hiras and manis?" Lelha replied,
"I will fight. I will not part with the hiras and manis. I obtained
them only after much painful toil, so I cannot deliver them up. Ask
them to agree to delay hostilities for a short time, but inform them
that Lelha will fight."

Lelha hurried to the further end of the garden, and taking the hair of
the first Indarpuri Kuri in his hand said, "Oh! Indarpuri Kuri. Give me
an army four times stronger than the one brought against me, so that
I may make short work of my enemies." Immediately an army of 44,000
men stood in military array, awaiting his orders. The two armies
joined battle, and Lelha discomfited the host of the Indarpuri Kuri,
and she herself became his prize. She became his wife, and returned no
more to her cavernous home in the solitary island. Lelha thus became
the husband of four wives.

Then the raja called his five sons together and said, "In my estimation
Lelha is the one best qualified to became raja of this kingdom. I
therefore resign all power and authority into his hands." Lelha
replied, "Yes, father, you have judged righteously. My brothers have
caused me much distress. First, they pushed off the raised platform
in your flower garden, but of that I did not inform you. Then they
caused me, who was the finder of the hiras and manis, to fall into
the river. You saw how they refused to fight, and threw all the
responsibility upon me. They have used me spitefully. They have tried
to make a cat's paw of me."

So Lelha was raja of all the country, and his brothers were his
servants. One was in charge of Lelha's pipe and tobacco, another
ploughed his fields, and the other two had like menial offices assigned
to them.


In a certain village there lived a mother and her son. The boy tended
goats in the forest. One day he found a spot of ground, where he
thought rice would grow well. So he went home, and asked his mother
to give him some seed to sow there. She said, "If you sow rice there
it will all be destroyed. The elephants, or the wild jungle cattle,
will eat it." But he begged so hard that at length she gave him some
seed rice, which he sowed on the small plot of ground in the jungle. It
sprang up and grew luxuriantly. Every day he drove his goats there,
and spent the long hours in driving the birds and insects away from
his little farm.

When the rice had grown to a good height the raja's son with his
companion came and set up a mark near by at which they shot with
their bows and arrows. The orphan boy was asked to join them, which he
did, and so accurate was his aim, that he hit the mark every time he
shot. The raja's son and his companion were astonished to see such good
shooting, and they said, "The fatherless boy hits the mark every time."

The boy ran home to his mother weeping, and said, "Oh! mother, where is
my father?" To keep him from grieving, she told a lie. "Your father,"
she said, "has gone on a visit to his relations."

The next day after he had again shown great skill with the bow and
arrow the raja's son and his companion said, "The fatherless boy hits
the mark every time." Hearing this he again went home weeping, and
said to his mother, "Oh! mother, where is my father?" She replied,
"He has gone to visit his friends." Every day the boy came crying to
his mother asking where his father was, so at last she told him. She
said, "Your father, child, was carried away on the horns of a Gand
Garur [18]."

The boy then said to his mother, "Prepare me some flour. I will
go in search of him." His mother tried to dissuade him, saying,
"Where can you go in such a jungle as this?" He, however, insisted,
and she prepared flour for him, and he set out.

After travelling many hours he entered the primeval forest, and
presently darkness came upon him. After a short time he came to
the dwelling of Huti [19] Budhi, and requested permission to pass
the night there. This was accorded to him, and he lay down and fell
asleep. During the night he was awakened by the Huti Budhi eating
his bow and arrows. He called out to her "Oh! old woman, What have
you been nibbling at since evening?" The Huti Budhi replied, "It is
only some roasted grain, which I brought a while ago from the house
of the Chief."

In a short time the nibbling sound was again heard, and he again
enquired what she was eating. She returned the same answer as
before. "Oh! my son, it is only roasted grain which the chief's people
gave me." He did not know that all the time she was eating his bow
and arrows.

When morning dawned he requested her to give him his weapons, and
on his attempting to string the bow it broke in his hands. The Huti
Budhi had eaten the heart out of the wood, and had left only the
outer shell. He left her house planning revenge.

During the day he had an iron bow and iron arrows made. All was iron
like the arrow heads. In the evening he returned to sleep at the Huti
Budhi's house.

During the night he heard the Huti Budhi trying to nibble his bow and
arrows. So he enquired what she was doing. The answer she gave was,
"Do you think the Huti Budhi can eat iron."

When morning dawned he demanded his bow and arrows, and received
them uninjured, but the lower part of the Huti Budhi's face was all
swollen. She had been trying to eat the iron bow and arrows. Her
lodger strung his bow, and having saluted her, went his way.

As he journeyed he entered another unexplored forest in the midst of
which he discovered a lake, to which all the birds and beasts resorted
to quench their thirst. He obtained this information by an examination
of its banks, on which he saw the footprints of the various beasts and
birds. He now took some flour from his bag, and having moistened it
with water made a hearty meal, and then sat down to wait for evening.

As the sun went down the denizens of the forest began to come to the
lake to drink. They came in quick succession, and as each made its
appearance, he sang assurance to it, that he harboured no evil design
against it.

The quail led the way, and to it he sang,

        "Oh! quail, you need not fear to drink,
        I'll not harm you, I you assure;
        But I will slay on this lake's brink,
        Cruel Sindura Gand Garur.

He sang in a similar strain to each bird as it came, naming it by
its name.

At length the Gand Garur alighted on the edge of the lake to drink,
and he at once drew his bow, and sent an arrow to its heart, for he
had seen the dried and shrivelled corpse of his father still adhering
to its horns. The Gand Garur being dead, he detached what remained of
his parent's body from its horns, and taking it in his arms pressed
it to his bosom and wept bitterly.

As he wept, Bidi and Bidhati descended from the sky and asked him
the reason of his sorrow. So he told them all. They spoke words
of comfort to him, and said, "Dip your gamcha cloth in the lake,
and cover the corpse with it. And don't you cry, rather bathe and
cook some food. And do not cook for one only, but prepare portions
for two. And when the food is ready, you partake of one portion,
and set the other aside. Then tap your father on the back and say,
'Rise father, here is your food.'" He did as his kind friends bade
him, and the dead came to life again. The father sat up and said,
"Oh! my son, what a lengthened sleep I have had." The son replied,
"A sleep? you must be demented, you were pierced through by the horns
of the Gand Garur, and your dried carcase was adhering to them. See
I have killed it. It is lying here. Bidi and Bidhati instructed me
how to proceed, and I have brought you to life again.

So they returned joyfully home singing the praises of Bidi and Bidhati.


A tiger cub was in the habit of playing under the shade of a certain
tree, in which was a crane's nest with a young one in it. The parent
cranes brought frogs and lizards to their young one, and what it could
not eat it used to throw down to the young tiger, and in this way the
two became greatly attached to each other. After a time the tigress
died, and left the cub alone in the world. The young crane felt much
pity for its afflicted friend, and could not bear the thought of
itself being in a better position. So one day it said to the tiger,
"Let us kill my mother." The tiger replied, "Just as you please. I
cannot say do it, nor can I say do not do it." When the mother crane
came to give its young one food, the latter set upon her and killed
her. The friendship between the two increased so that they could
not be separated from each other. Day and night they spent in each
other's society.

After a time the two said, "Come let us make a garden, and plant in it
turmeric." So they prepared a piece of ground, and the crane brought
roots of turmeric from a distance. They then discussed the matter as to
which part of the crop each would take. The crane said to the tiger,
"You, my brother, choose first." The tiger said, "If I must speak
first, I will take the leaves." Then, said the crane, "I will take
the roots." Having settled this point to their satisfaction, they
began to plant. The tiger dug holes, and the crane put in the roots,
and covered them over with earth.

A year passed, and they again said to each other, "Which of us will
take the roots, and which the leaves?" The tiger said, "I will take
the leaves." The crane replied, "I will take the roots." So they began
to dig up the plants, and cutting the leaves from the roots, placed
each by themselves. The tiger collected an immense bulk of leaves,
and the crane a large heap of roots. This done each surveyed the
other's portion. That of the crane was of a beautiful, reddish tinge,
and excited the envy of the tiger, who said to the crane, "Give me half
of yours, and I will give you half of mine." The crane refused, saying,
"I will not share with you. Why did you at first chose the leaves? I
gave you your choice." The tiger insisted, but the crane was obdurate,
and before long they were quarrelling as if they had been lifelong
enemies. The crane seeing it was being worsted in the wrangle, flew in
the face of the tiger, and pecked its eyes, so that it became blind. It
then flew away, and left the tiger lamenting its sad fate. Having lost
its sight it could not find its way about, so remained there weeping.

One day, hearing the voice of a man near by, the tiger called out,
"Oh! man, are you a doctor?" The man stupefied with fear stared at
the tiger, and gave no reply. The tiger again said, "Oh! man, why
do you not reply to my question? Although you are a human being,
have you no pity?" The man then said, "Oh! renowned hero, what did
you ask me? I am terror stricken, so did not reply. You may devour
me." The tiger replied, "If I had wished to kill you, I could have
done so, but I mean you no harm." The tiger again asked the man if he
possessed a knowledge of medicine, but he replied, "I do not." The
tiger then asked, "Is there one amongst you who does know?" The
man replied, "Yes." The tiger enquired, "Who is he?" The man said,
"There is a certain widow with two sons, the name of one of whom is
Ulta, who possesses a knowledge of medicine, she will be able to cure
you." Having given the tiger this information the man went away.

The tiger went to the house of Ulta's mother, and hid himself behind
a hedge. He said within himself, "When I hear any one call Ulta then I
will go forward." Shortly after the tiger arrived Ulta's mother called
Ulta, "Ulta, come to your supper." Then the tiger ran hastily forward,
and cried, "Oh! Ulta's mother, Oh! Ulta's mother." But she was afraid,
and exclaimed, "This tiger has done for us to-day." The tiger said
to the woman, "Do you know medicine?" She replied, "Yes, Wait till
I bring it." So hastily running out she said to her neighbours,
"A tiger has come to my house. He is blind, and wishes me to cure
his blindness." The neighbours said to her, "Give him some of the
juice of the Akauna [20] tree. It will increase his blindness." So
she quickly brought Akauna juice, and giving it to the tiger, said,
"Go to some dense jungle and apply it to your eyes. Do not apply it
here, or it will have no effect. Take it away. We are about to sit
down to supper, and then my children will go to sleep. The medicine
will cause you pain at first, but it will effect a complete cure."

The tiger hurried away to the jungle, and poured the akauna juice
into his eyes. The pain it caused was as if his eyeballs were being
torn out. He tossed himself about in agony, and at last struck his
head against a tree. In a short time, his blindness was gone. He
could see everything plainly, and was delighted beyond expression.

One day several traders were passing along a pathway through the jungle
in which the tiger hunted. He was lying concealed watching for prey,
and when the traders were passing he jumped out upon them. Seeing
the tiger they fled, and left behind them their silver, and gold,
and brass vessels. The tiger collected all and carried them to Ulta's
mother's house, and presenting them to her said, "All this I give to
you, for through you I have again seen the earth. Had it not been for
you, who knows whether I should ever have been cured or not." Ulta's
mother was delighted with the generosity of the tiger. He had made
her rich at once. But she was anxious to get rid of him, and said "Go
away. May you always find a living somewhere." So the tiger returned
to the jungle again.

Sometime afterwards the tiger was minded to take a wife, and sought
his old friend Ulta's mother. On arriving at her house he called out,
"Oh! Ulta's mother, where are you? Are you in your house?" She replied,
"Who are you?" The tiger answered, "It is I, the forest hero. You
cured my blindness." So Ulta's mother came out of her house, and said,
"Wherefore, Sir, have you come here?" "I wish you," replied the tiger,
"to find a bride for me." Ulta's mother said, "Come to-morrow and I
will tell you. Do not stay to-day." So the tiger left.

Ulta's mother then went to her neighbours and said, "The tiger has put
me in a great difficulty. He wishes me to find a bride for him." They
said to her, "Is he not blind?" She replied, "No. He sees now, and it
is that, which distresses me. What can I do?" They said, "Get a bag,
and order him to go into it, and then tie up the mouth tightly, and
tell him to remain still. Say to him, If you move, or make a noise,
I will not seek a bride for you. And when you have him tied securely
in the bag, call us." The next day the tiger appeared, and Ulta's
mother told him to get into the bag, and allow her to tie it. So he
went in, and she tied the bag's mouth, and said, "You must not move,
lie still, or I shall not be your go-between." Having secured him,
Ulta's mother called her neighbours, who came armed with clubs,
and began to beat the helpless animal. He called out, "Oh! Ulta's
mother, what are you doing?" She said, "Keep quiet. They are beating
the marriage drums. Lie still a little longer." The tiger remained
motionless, while they continued to beat him. At length they said,
"He must be dead now, let us throw him out." So they carried him to
a river, and having thrown him in, returned home.

The current bore the tiger far down the river, but at length he
stranded in a cove. A short time afterwards a tigress came down to
the river to drink and seeing the bag, and thinking it might contain
something edible she seized it and dragged it up on to the bank. The
tigress then cut the bag open with her teeth, and the tiger sprang out,
exclaiming, "Of a truth she has given me a bride. Ulta's mother has
done me a good turn, and I shall remember her as long as I live." The
tiger and the tigress being of one mind on the subject agreed never
to separate.

One day the two tigers said "Come let us go and pay a visit to Ulta's
mother, who has proved so helpful to us. As we cannot go empty handed,
let us rob some one to get money to take with us." So they went and
lay in wait near a path which passed through the forest in which they
lived. Presently a party of merchants came up, and the tigers with
a loud roar sprang from their ambush on to the road. The merchants
seeing them, fled, and left behind them all their property in money
and cloth. Those they carried to Ulta's mother. When she saw the
tigers approaching her throat became dry through terror.

Before entering the court-yard they called out to Ulta's mother
announcing their approach. Ulta's mother addressed the tiger thus,
"Why do you come here frightening one in this way?" The tiger replied,
"There is no fear. It is I who am afraid of you. Why should you
dread my coming? It was you who found this partner for me. Do you
not yet know me?" Ulta's mother replied, "What can you do Sir? Do
you not remember that we give and receive gifts on the Karam festival
day? On the days for giving and receiving, we give and receive. Now,
that you are happily wedded, may you live in peace and comfort;
but do not come here again."

The tiger then gave Ulta's mother a large amount of money and much
cloth, after which the two tigers took their leave, and Ulta's mother
entered her house loaded with rupees and clothing.


A great cheat married the cheating sister of seven cheats. One day
his father-in-law and seven brothers-in-law came on a visit to his
house. After conversing with them for a little, he invited them to
accompany him to the river to bathe. He carried a fishing rod with
him, and on arriving at the river cast his line into a pool, saying,
"Now, fish, if you do not instantly repair to my house, I shall not
be able to speak well of you." This he said to deceive the others,
as before leaving home he had given a fish to his wife telling her
to prepare it for dinner. When seated at table he said to his guests,
"the fish we are now eating is the one I, in your presence, ordered to
proceed from the river to my house this forenoon." They were greatly
astonished at the wonderful properties possessed by the fishing rod,
and expressed a desire to purchase it, and offered to pay five rupees
for it. He accepted their offer, and they carried the wonderful
fishing rod home with them.

Next day they arranged to go a-fishing. They cast the line into a
pool as they had seen the cheat do, and said, "Now fish, if you do
not repair at once to our home we shall not be able to speak well
of you." Having bathed they returned home, and asked to see the
fish. Their wives said, "What fish? You gave us no fish. We have
seen no fish. Where did you throw it down?" They now knew that their
sister's husband was a cheat, so they decided to go and charge him
with having deceived them.

The cheat had notice of their coming, and quickly taking his dog with
him went to hunt. He caught a hare and bringing it home gave it to
his wife, and said, "When we reach the end of the street on our way
home from hunting, you make the dog stand near the house with the
dead hare in his mouth."

He invited his visitors to accompany him for an hour's hunting,
saying, "Come, let us go and kill a hare for dinner." So they went
to the jungle, and presently started a hare. The cheat threw a stone
at his dog, and frightened it so that it ran home. He called after
it, "If you do not catch and take that hare home, it will not be
well for you." He then said to his friends, "Come, let us return,
we will find the dog there with the hare before us." They replied,
"We doubt it much." "There is no mistake about it," he said, "We are
certain to find both dog and hare." On reaching home they found the
dog standing waiting for them with a hare in his mouth.

His brothers-in-law were astonished beyond measure at the sagacity
of the dog, and they said, "Sell this dog to us, we will pay a good
price for it." He demanded ten rupees, which they gladly paid. So
they returned home, and said nothing to him about his having cheated
them in the matter of the fishing rod.

One day, taking the dog with them, they went to hunt. It caught five
hares, and its masters were greatly delighted with its performance.

After this the cheat's house was accidentally burnt, and he gathering
the ashes together, set out for the bazaar, there to sell them. On the
way he fell in with a party of merchants who had a large bag full of
silver with them. They enquired what his bag contained, to which he
replied, "Gold." They agreed to pass the night in the same encampment,
so having partaken of their evening meal, they lay down to sleep. At
midnight the merchants rose, and exchanged the bags, and then lay
down again. The cheat saw them, and chuckled within himself. In the
morning the merchants made haste to leave, as they feared the cheat
might find out the theft of his bag. The cheat asked them before they
left to help him to lift his bag on to his bullock's back, saying,
"It was to receive assistance from you that I encamped here last
night." So having helped him to load his bullock they hurried away
lest they should be caught. The cheat carried his treasure home,
but being unable to count so much money borrowed a measure from his
father-in-law, and found he had four maunds of silver.

On returning the measure he sent along with it five seers of silver,
saying, "For the ashes of my house I received four maunds of silver,
if you reduce your houses to ashes and sell them, you will obtain very
much more." So they foolishly burnt their houses, and collecting the
ashes went to the bazaar to dispose of them. The merchants to whom
they offered them directed them to go to the washermen, saying, "They
will possibly buy." But they also refused, and they were compelled
to return home without having effected a sale. They vowed vengeance
on the cheat, and set out to find him.

When they reached his house the cheat was on the point of starting
on a journey. After mutual salutations he said, "I have just killed
my second wife. I go to receive eight maunds of silver for her
corpse. Dead bodies bring high prices." They said to him, "How about
the ashes? We could not sell them." He replied, "You did not go far
enough from home. Had you gone to a distance you would have made a
good bargain."

The cheat's youngest wife having died he washed the body, and anointed
it with oil. He then put it in a large bag, and loaded it on the back
of a bullock, and set out. On the way he came to a field of wheat, into
which he drove the animal, and then hid himself near by. The owner of
the field finding the bullock eating his wheat, beat it unmercifully
with a cudgel. The cheat then came from his hiding place, and said,
"Have you not done wrong in beating my bullock? If you have killed my
wife, where will you flee to? I fell behind, and for that reason my
ox got into your field. My wife, whom I have newly married, is weak
and unable to go on foot, so I put her into a bag to carry her home
on my bullock."

Having opened the bag the wife was found dead, and her assailant
stood self convicted of her murder. He gave her husband six maunds
of rupees as hush money, so the cheat burnt the corpse and returned
home laden with spoil.

The cheat next sent for his brothers-in-law, and shewing them the
money, said, "I killed my second wife, and got all this money by
selling the corpse." They enquired, "Who are the people who buy dead
bodies?" He replied, "They reside in the Rakas country."

Then the seven brothers killed each his youngest wife, and carried
the bodies to a distant country to dispose of them. When the
people of that country knew the object for which they had come they
said to them, "What sort of men are you hawking corpses about the
towns and villages? You must be the worst, or else most stupid of
men." Hearing this the brothers were dismayed, and began to take in
the situation. They perceived that the cheat had again deceived them,
and they retraced their steps homewards bitterly lamenting their
folly. On reaching their village they cremated the remains of their
wives, and from that day had no more dealings with the cheat.


A certain raja had two daughters, who were in the habit of amusing
themselves out side of the palace walls. One day they saw a crow
flying towards them with a ripe Terel [21] fruit in his beak. They then
said to each other, "What fruit is it? It looks nice and sweet." The
crow let the fruit fall in front of them. They ran and picked it
up, and ate it. It tasted deliciously sweet. Then they said, "From
whence did the crow bring such a good fruit?" Then they remembered
the direction from which they had seen it coming, and said, "If we
go this way we shall find it." So they went, but it was only after
they had travelled a great distance from home that they found the
Terel tree with the ripe luscious fruit.

The elder of the two girls climbed up into the tree, and shook down
a large quantity of the fruit. They then feasted to their heart's
content. Presently they began to feel thirsty, and the elder said to
the younger, "You remain here while I go to drink, and I will also
bring you water in a leaf cup." Having said this she went away to
the tank, and her sister remained under the Terel tree. The day was
extremely hot, and they were very thirsty.

The elder having quenched her thirst was returning carrying water for
her sister in a cup made of the leaves of a Terel tree, when a bhut
came flying along, and fell into the cup of water. Presently she became
aware that there was a hole in the bottom of her cup through which
all the water had run out. What could she do now? There was no help
for it but to return to the tank, make another leaf cup, and filling
it with water return to her sister. As she was returning with the cup
full of water the bhut again came flying up, and entering the water
passed through the leaf, making a hole by which all the water escaped.

Again she made a leaf cup, and having filled it with water was
returning when the bhut again came, and destroyed her cup, and caused
her to lose the water. In this way she was detained till very late.

A raja who happened to be in the vicinity saw a beautiful girl carrying
water in a leaf cup, and a bhut come and make a hole in the cup, so
that it soon became empty. Having seen this several times repeated,
he drew near, and feasted his eyes on her beauty. Then he carried
her away to his palace, where they were joined in wedlock, and the
princess, now the rani, cooked the food for herself and her husband.

The younger princess remained near the Terel tree, and although she
had given up hope of again meeting her sister, still she continued
to wait. At length a herd of Hanuman monkeys came to feed upon the
Terel fruit. When the girl saw them coming she was terrified and crept
into the hollow of the tree. The monkeys with the exception of an old
frail one, climbed into the tree and began to eat the fruit. The old
monkey remained below and picked up the fruit shells which the others
threw down.

The old monkey having noticed the girl hiding in the hollow of the
tree called to the others, "Throw me down some. If you do not I shall
not share the Setke chopot I have found." The monkeys in the tree
said, "Do not give him any. He is deceiving us. When his hunger is
satisfied he will run and leave us." So no fruit was thrown down to
him, and he was forced to be content with the shells. The monkeys in
the tree having fared sumptuously, left. The old monkey waited till
they were out of sight, and then entered the hollow of the tree,
where the girl was, and ate her up. He then went to the tank to
drink, and afterwards went in the direction of the raja's garden,
on reaching which he lay down and died. One of the gardeners finding
him dead threw him on the dunghill.

From the place where the monkey decayed a gourd sprang, and grew, and
bore a fruit which ripened. One day a jugi, when on his rounds begging,
saw this fruit and plucking it took it away with him. Out of the shell
he made a banjo, which when played upon emitted wonderful music. The
words which seemed to proceed from the banjo were as follows:

    Ripe terels, ripe terels, Oh! Sister mine.
    Went in search of water, Oh! Sister mine.
    Raja and Rani they became.
    Seven hundred monkeys old,
    Ate me up, ate me up. Oh! Sister mine.

The jugi was greatly pleased with the music of his new banjo, and
determined to take it with him when he went a begging. So one day
he set out with his banjo the music of which so pleased the people
that they gave him large gifts of money and clothes. In course of
time he arrived at the palace where the elder sister was now rani,
and, being admitted, began to play on his banjo. The instrument again
produced most wonderful music. It seemed to wail as follows:

    Ripe terels, ripe terels, Oh! Sister mine.
    Went in search of water, Oh! Sister mine.
    Raja and Rani they became.
    Seven hundred monkeys old,
    Ate me up, ate me up. Oh! Sister mine.

Having listened to the music the rani said, "It is wonderfully
sweet," and she fancied she heard her sister's voice in every
note. She thought it possible that it was she who sang in the banjo,
and she desired to obtain possession of it. So she invited the jugi
to pass the night in the palace, saying, I would hear more of this
entrancing music." The jugi listened to the words of the rani and
agreed to remain till morning. So the rani made much of him with the
intention of at length obtaining possession of his banjo. She caused
a goat to be killed, and she cooked a splendid supper for the jugi,
who finding the food so toothsome ate heartily. Wine was not withheld,
and the jugi being in a festive frame of mind drank deeply, so that he
soon lay as one dead. The rani took the banjo, and placed another in
its stead. She then threw filth over the unconscious jugi and retired
to her own apartment.

The jugi on awaking before sunrise found himself in a pitiable
plight. He felt so thoroughly disgusted with himself that, hastily
picking up his staff, cloth, and banjo, he fled with the utmost
possible speed from the palace. When dawn broke he saw that the banjo
he had was not his own, and although he felt keenly its loss he was
too much ashamed of the condition he had been in to go back to seek it.

The rani hid the jugi's banjo in her own room, because she knew her
sister to be in it. Whenever the raja and rani went out to walk the
girl left the banjo and having bathed and dressed her hair, cooked
the family meal, and then returned to the banjo. This happened so
often that at last, it came to the knowledge of the raja that a fairy
lived in the banjo, and when the way was clear used to come out and
prepare food for the rani and himself. So he determined to lie in wait
for the fairy cook. He then sent the rani somewhere on an errand,
and hid himself in a corner of the room from whence he could see
the banjo. In a short time the princess emerged from the banjo, and
began to dress her hair, and anoint herself with oil, after which she
cooked rice. She divided the food into three portions, one of which
she ate. As she was about to re-enter the banjo the raja sprang out
and caught hold of her. She exclaimed, "Chi! Chi! you may be a Hadi,
or you may be a Dom." The raja replied, "Chi! Chi! whether I be a Dom,
or a Hadi, from to-day you and I are one."


In a certain village there lived seven brothers and a sister. Their
family was wealthy. Their father was dead. The brothers agreed to dig
a tank so that whatever happened their name would continue. So they
began the work, but although they dug deep they found no water. Then
they said to each other, "Why is there no water?" While they were
speaking thus among themselves a jugi gosae on his rounds, came to
the tank in the hope of finding water, but he was disappointed. The
seven brothers on seeing the jugi gosae went and sat down near him,
and said, "We have been working for many days, and have dug so deep,
still we have not reached water. You, who are a jugi gosae, tell us
why water does not come." He replied, "Unless you give a gift you
will never get water." They enquired, "What should we give." The jugi
gosae replied, "Not gold, or silver, or an elephant, or a horse, but
you have a sister?" They said, "Yes, we have one sister." He replied,
"Then make a gift of her to the spirit of the tank." The girl was
betrothed, and her family had received the amount that had been fixed
as her price. The brothers argued thus, "We have laboured so long
to make a name for ourselves, but have not found water, so where is
our name? If we do not sacrifice our sister we shall never obtain the
fulfilment of our wishes, let us all agree to it." So they all said,
"Agreed," but the youngest did not fully approve of their design.

In the evening they said to their mother, "Let our sister wash her
clothes, dress her hair, and put on all her ornaments to-morrow when
she brings us our breakfast to the tank." They did not, however,
enlighten their mother as to why they desired their sister to be so
careful with her toilet.

The following day the mother addressed her daughter as follows,
"Oh! my daughter, your brothers yesterday said to me, let the
daughter, when she brings us our breakfast come with clean clothes,
her hair dressed and all her ornaments on. So as it is nearly time,
go and dress, and put on all your ornaments, and take your brothers'
breakfast to where they are working." She complied with her mother's
order, and set out for the tank, dressed in her best with all her
ornaments on, carrying boiled rice in a new basket.

When she arrived at the tank her brothers said to her, "Oh! daughter,
set down the basket under yonder tree." She did so, and the brothers
came to where she was. They then said to her, "Go bring us water from
the tank to drink." She took her water-pot under her arm, and went
into the tank, but did not at once find water. Presently, however, she
saw the sheen of water in the centre, and went to fill her pitcher,
but she could not do so, as the water rose so rapidly. The tank was
soon full to the brim, and the girl was drowned.

The brothers having seen their sister perish, went home. Their
mother enquired, "Oh! my sons, where is the daughter?" They replied,
"We have given her to the tank. A certain jugi gosae said to us,
'Unless you offer up your sister you will never get water'." On
hearing this she loudly wailed the loss of her daughter. Her sons
strove to mitigate her grief by saying, "Look mother, we undertook
the excavation of the tank to perpetuate our name, and to gain the
fruit of a meritorious work. And unless there be water in the tank
for men and cattle to drink, where is the perpetuation of our name? By
our offering up the daughter the tank is full to overflowing. So the
cattle can now quench their thirst, and travellers, when they encamp
near by and drink the water, will say, 'The excavators of this tank
deserve the thanks of all. We, and others who pass by are recipients
of their bounty. Their merit is indeed great'." In this way with many
such like arguments they sought to allay their mother's grief.

Right in the centre of the tank, where the girl was drowned, there
sprang up an Upel flower the purple, sheen of which filled the beholder
with delight.

It has already been stated that the girl had been betrothed, and that
her family had received the money for her. The day appointed for the
marriage arrived, and the bridegroom's party with drums, elephants and
horses, set out for the bride's house. On arrival they were informed
that she had left her home, and that all efforts to trace her had
proved fruitless. So they returned home greatly disappointed. It so
happened that their way lay past the tank in which the girl had been
sacrificed, and the bridegroom, from his palki, saw the Upel flower
in the centre. As he wished to possess himself of it, he ordered his
bearers to set down the palki, and stepping out prepared to swim out
to pluck the flower. His companions tried to dissuade him, but as he
insisted he was permitted to enter the water. He swam to within a short
distance of the flower, but as he stretched out his hand to pluck it,
the Upel flower, moving away, said, "Chi! Chi! Chi! Chi! You may be
either a Dom or a Hadi, do not touch me." The bridegroom replied,
"Not so. Are not we two one?" He made another effort to seize the
flower, but it again moved away, saying, "Chi! Chi! Chi! Chi! you
may be a Dom or a Hadi, so do not touch me." To which he replied,
"Not so. You and I are one." He swam after it again, but the flower
eluded his grasp, and said, "Chi! Chi! Chi! Chi! You may be a Dom,
or you may be a Hadi, so do not touch me." He said, "Not so. You and
I are bride and bridegroom for ever." Then the Upel flower allowed
itself to be plucked, and the bridegroom returned to his company
bearing it with him.

He entered his palki and the cortege started. They had not proceeded
far before the bearers were convinced that the palki was increasing
in weight. They said, "How is it that it is now so heavy? A short
time ago it was light." So they pushed aside the panel, and beheld
the bride and bridegroom sitting side by side. The marriage party on
hearing the glad news rejoiced exceedingly. They beat drums, shouted,
danced, and fired off guns. Thus they proceeded on their homeward way.

When the bridegroom's family heard the noise, they said, one to the
other "Sister, they have arrived." Then they went forth to meet the
bridegroom, and brought them in with great rejoicing. The bride was
she who had been the Upel flower, and was exceedingly beautiful. In
form she was both human and divine. The village people, as well as
the marriage guests, when they saw her, exclaimed, "What a beautiful
bride! She is the fairest bride that we have seen. She has no
peer." Thus they all praised her beauty.

It so happened that in the meantime the mother and brothers of the
girl had become poor. They were reduced to such straits as to be
compelled to sell firewood for a living. So one day the brothers
went to the bridegroom's village with firewood for sale. They offered
it to one and another, but no one would buy. At last some one said,
"Take it to the house in which the marriage party is assembled. They
may require it." So the brothers went there, and asked, "Will you buy
firewood?" They replied, "Yes. We will take it." Some one informed the
bride, that some men from somewhere had brought firewood for sale. So
she went out, and at once recognised her brothers, and said to them,
"Put down your loads," and when they had done so she placed beds
for them to sit on, and brought them water; but they did not know
that she was their sister, as she was so greatly changed. Then she
gave them vessels of oil, and said, "Go bathe, for you will dine
here to-day." So they took the oil, and went to bathe, but they
were so hungry that they drank the oil on the way. So they bathed,
and returned to the house. She then brought them water to wash their
hands, and they sat down in a row to eat. The bride gave her youngest
brother food on a brass plate, because he had not approved of what
had been done to her, but to the others she gave it on leaf plates.

They had only eaten one handful of rice when the girl placed herself
in front of them, and putting a hand upon her head, began to weep
bitterly. She exclaimed, "Oh! my brothers, you had no pity upon me. You
threw me away as an offering to the tank. You saw me lost, and then
went home." When the brothers heard this they felt as if their breasts
were torn open. If they looked up to heaven, heaven was high. Then
they saw an axe which they seized, and with it they struck the ground
with all their might. It opened like the mouth of a large tiger,
and the brothers plunged in. The girl caught the youngest brother by
the hair to pull him up, but it came away in her hand, and they all
disappeared into the bowels of the earth, which closed over them.

The girl held the hair in her hand and wept over it. She then planted
it, and from it sprang the hair like Bachkom [22] grass, and from
that time Bachkom grass grows in the jungles.

The sister had pity on her youngest brother because he did not join
heartily with the others in causing her death. So she tried to rescue
him from the fate which was about to overtake him, but in this she
failed, and he suffered for the sins of his brothers.


There was a lad named Jhore, who herded goats, and every day while
with his flock he saw a tiger and a lizard fight. The lizard always
vanquished the tiger, and the latter after each encounter came to Jhore
and said, "Which of us won?" Jhore through fear every time replied,
"You won," and the tiger went away pleased.

One day Jhore said to his mother, give me some roasted matkom in a
leaf, and put me into a bag and I will tell you something. So she
wrapped up some matkom in a leaf, and Jhore crept into the bag and
she tied its mouth. Then she said, "What is it, my son, which you
wish to tell me?" Jhore replied, "Every day when I am tending my
goats I see a tiger and a lizard fight, and the tiger is vanquished
by the lizard. The tiger then comes to me and asks, 'which of us
won?' Through fear I say, you won, then the tiger goes away satisfied."

While Jhore was relating the foregoing to his mother the tiger was
listening at the door, and as he finished his story it rushed in, and
seizing the bag carried it off to a dense unexplored forest, on a hill
in the middle of which he placed it. Jhore was very uncomfortable,
and was considering how he could best free himself from the bag. As
he was hungry he was reminded of the matkom he had with him wrapped
in a leaf, so he began to open it, and the dried leaf crackled. The
tiger hearing the noise, asked what produced it. Jhore replied,
"It is yesterday's lizard." The tidings of the presence of his
mortal enemy so terrified the tiger that he exclaimed, "Stop, stop,
Jhore. Do not release him. Let me first escape." After the tiger left
Jhore rolled down the hill side, and away into a still denser forest,
in an open spot of which he came to a stop. The fastening of the bag
was loosed by this time, and Jhore crawled out. All round this open
glade in which our hero found himself was dense forest never trodden
by the foot of man, and tenanted by a herd of wild buffaloes. Jhore
took up his residence there, and subsisted on the roasted matkom as
long as it lasted.

Jhore in his explorations found a number of buffaloe calves left
behind by their mothers who had gone to graze. He tended these daily,
cleaning the place where they lived, and taking them to the water,
where he washed them. In this way a bond of friendship was established
between him and the wild buffaloe calves.

Before the buffaloe cows left for their grazing grounds in the
mornings the calves said, "You stay away till so late at night that,
we are almost famished before you return. Leave some milk with us,
so that when hungry we may drink it." So they left a supply of milk
with them, which they gave to Jhore. He took such care of his charges
that he soon became a great favourite with them.

Matters went on thus for many days till at last the buffaloe cows
said among themselves, "We must watch for, and catch whoever it is
who keeps our calves so clean." So a very powerful wild buffaloe
was appointed to lie in wait, but he missed seeing Jhore when he led
the calves to the water and bathed them, and cleaned and swept out
their stall. The next day another took his place, but he succeeded
no better. The calves were taken to the water, bathed, brought back,
and their stall cleaned and swept as usual without his seeing who
did it. When the others returned in the evening he informed them
that he had failed to solve the mystery. So they said, "What shall
we do now? How shall we catch him? Who will watch to-morrow?" A old
buffaloe cow replied, "I will accept the responsibility." Hearing
her speak thus the others said, "What a good elephant and a good
horse could not do, will ten asses accomplish?" By this they meant,
that two of the strongest of their number having failed, this weak
old cow could not possibly succeed. However, she persisted, and in
the morning the others went to graze leaving her behind.

In a short time she saw Jhore emerge from the dunghill, in which he
resided, and loose the calves, and take them to the water. When he
brought them back he cleaned and swept their stall, and then re-entered
the dunghill. In the evening the others enquired, "Well, did you see
him?" The old buffaloe cow replied, "Yes, I saw him, but I will not
tell you, for you will kill him." They pressed her, but she refused,
saying, "You will kill him." They said, "Why should we kill him who
takes so much care of our young ones?" The old buffaloe cow led them
to the dunghill, and said, "He is in here." So they called to him to
come out, which he did, and when they saw him they were all greatly
pleased, so much so that they there and then hired him to continue
to do the work he had been doing so well. They arranged also to give
him a regular daily supply of milk, so he was duly installed by the
herd of wild buffaloes as care-taker of their calves.

Long after this, he one day took his calves to the river and after
he had bathed them he said to the buffaloe calves, "Wait for me till
I also bathe." They replied, "Bathe, we will graze close by." He
having performed his ablutions sat down on the river bank to comb and
dress his hair, which was twelve cubits long. In combing his tangled
tresses a quantity was wrenched out, this he wrapped up in a leaf and
threw into the stream. It was carried by the current a great distance
down to where a raja's daughter and her companions were bathing. The
raja's daughter saw the leaf floating towards her, and ordered one
of her attendants to bring it to her. When the leaf was opened it
was found to contain hair twelve cubits in length. Immediately after
measuring the hair the raja's daughter complained of fever, and hasted
home to her couch. The raja being informed of his daughter's illness
sent for the most skilled physicians, who prescribed all the remedies
their pharmacopoeia contained, but failed to afford the sufferer any
relief. The grief of the raja was therefore intense.

Then his daughter said to him, "Oh! father, I have one word to say
to you. If you do as I wish, I shall recover." The raja replied,
"Tell me what it is, I shall do my best to please you." So she said,
"If you find me one with hair twelve cubits long and bring him to me,
I shall rally at once." The raja said, "It is well."

The raja caused diligent search to be made for the person with
hair twelve cubits long. He said to a certain jugi, "You traverse
the country far and near, find me the man with hair twelve cubits
long." The jugi enquired everywhere, but could obtain no intelligence
concerning him.

They then made up a parcel of flour and gave it to a crow, whom
they sent to try and find him. The crow flew caw cawing all over
the district, but returned at last and reported failure, saying,
"there is not such a man in the world."

After this they again made up a small parcel of flour, and giving
it to a tame paroquet, said, "Find a man with hair twelve cubits
long." The paroquet, having received his orders, flew away screeching,
and mounting high up into the sky, directed his course straight for
the unexplored forest. In the meantime the dunghill in which Jhore
resided had become a palace.

The paroquet alighted on a tree near Jhore's palace, and began to
whistle. On hearing the unusual sound Jhore came out and saw the
paroquet who was speaking and whistling. The paroquet also eyed him
narrowly, and was delighted to see his hair trailing on the ground. By
this he knew that he had found the object of his search, and with a
scream of delight, he flew away to communicate the tidings to the raja.

The raja was overjoyed with his messenger's report, and ordered the
bariat to set out immediately. In a short time they were on their
way accompanied by elephants, horses, drums, and fifes. On reaching
Jhore's palace they were about to enter for the purpose of seizing
him, when he exclaimed, "Do not pass my threshold." They replied,
"We will carry you away with us." He said, "Do not come near." "We will
certainly carry you away," they replied. Jhore then ran into his house,
and seizing his flute mounted to the roof, and began to play. As the
notes of the flute resounded through the forest it seemed to say,

            A staff of Pader [23] wood
            A flute of Erandom [24]
            Return, return, return,
            Oh! wild buffaloe cows.

The sound of the flute startled the wild buffaloes, and they said
one to another, "Sister. What has happened to Jhore?" Then he played
again the same as before;

            A staff of Pader wood
            A flute of Erandom
            Return, return, return,
            Oh! wild buffaloe cows.

As the echoes of Jhore's flute died away in the forest glades the wild
buffaloes sprang forward, and rushed to his assistance. On arrival they
found the house and courtyard full of people, and large numbers outside
who could not gain admittance. They immediately charged them with
all their force, goring many to death, and scattering the remainder,
who flung away their drums and fifes, and fled as for dear life.

When the raja heard of their discomfiture he sent again for the
paroquet, and giving a small parcel of flour to him said, "Stay some
time with him until you gain his confidence, and watch your chance
to bring away his flute." Having received his orders he flew off
to Jhore's palace, and having gained access to where the flute was,
when Jhore was out of the way he brought it away, and gave it to the
raja. The raja was delighted at the sight of the flute, and again
ordered the bariat to go to fetch Jhore. A still more imposing array
than the former started with elephants, horses, drums, fifes, and
palkis, and in due course arrived at Jhore's residence. On seeing them
Jhore called out, "Do not approach, or you will rue it presently." They
replied, "You beat us off the first time, therefore you now crow, but
you will not now be able to balk us, we shall take you with us." Again
he warned them to stay where they were, saying, "Do not come near me,
or you will rue it presently." They replied, "We will take you with
us this time, we will not leave you behind." Jhore then ran into his
house, and searched for his flute, but as it had been carried away
by the paroquet he could not find it, so seizing another he mounted
to the roof, and began to play. The flute seemed to say;

            A staff of Pader wood
            A flute of Erandom
            Return, return, return,
            Oh! wild buffaloe cows.

The sound startled the wild buffaloes who said one to another
"Sister. What is it Jhore says?" Again the music of the flute reached
their ears, and the entire herd rushed off to Jhore's rescue. They
charged the crowd in and around the palace of their favourite with
such determination that in a few minutes many lay gored to death,
and those who were so fortunate as to escape threw down drums,
fifes, and palkis, and fled pell mell from the place. The raja,
being informed of the catastrophe that had befallen the bariat,
again called the paroquet, and after he had given him careful
instructions as to how he should proceed, dismissed him. He said,
"This time you must stay many days with him, and secure his entire
confidence and friendship. Then you must bring away all his flutes,
do not leave him one." So the paroquet flew swiftly, and alighted on
a tree near to Jhore's house, and began to whistle. Jhore seeing it
was a paroquet brought it food, and induced it to come down, and allow
him to take it in his hand. The two, it is said, lived together many
days, and greatly enjoyed each other's society. The paroquet when he
had informed himself as to where all Jhore's flutes were kept, one
day tied them all up in a bundle, and carried them to the raja. The
sight of the flutes revived the drooping spirits of his Majesty. He
gave orders a third time for the bariat to go and bring Jhore, so they
started with greater pomp and show than before. Elephants, horses, and
an immense number of men with drums and fifes, and palkis formed the
procession. On their arrival Jhore came out of his palace and said to
them, "Do not come near, or you will rue it." They replied, "This time
we will have you. We will take you with us." Again Jhore warning them
said, "Come no nearer. If you do, you will see something as good as a
show. Do you not remember how you fared the other day?" But they said,
"We will carry you away with us." Jhore ran inside to get his flute,
so that he might call the wild buffaloes to his assistance; but no
flute was to be found. Without the help of his powerful friends he
could offer no resistance, so they seized him, and bore him away in
triumph to the raja.

When the raja's daughter heard of his arrival the fever suddenly
left her, and she was once more in excellent health. She and Jhore
were united in the bonds of marriage forthwith; but Jhore was kept
a close prisoner in the palace.

In course of time a son blessed the union, and when the child was
able to walk Jhore's wife said to him, "Where is the large herd of
buffaloes which you boast so much about? If they were here "Sonny"
would have milk and curds daily." Jhore plucking up courage, replied,
"If you do not believe me order a stockade to be constructed thirty-two
miles long and thirty-two miles broad, and you shall soon behold my
buffaloes." So they made a pen thirty-two miles long and thirty-two
miles broad. Then Jhore said, "Give me my old flute, and you all remain
within doors." So they brought him his flute, and he went up on to the
roof of the palace, and played. The music seemed to call as follows:

        A staff of Pader wood
        A flute of Erandom
        Return, return, return,
        Oh! wild buffaloe cows.

The sound startled the wild buffaloes in their forest home, and they
said one to another, "Sister. What does Jhore say?" Again the music
seemed to say,

        A staff of Pader wood
        A flute of Erandom
        Return, return, return,
        Oh! wild buffaloe cows.

At Jhore's second call the herd of wild buffaloes dashed off at
their utmost speed, and never halted till they reached the raja's
palace. They came in such numbers that the pen could not contain them
all, many remained outside.

Those that entered the pen are the domesticated buffaloes of to-day,
and those who were without are the wild buffaloes still found in the
forests of India.


There were once upon a time, six brothers and a sister. The brothers
were married. They were merchants, and their business often took them
to a distance from home. On such occasions the wives were left alone
with their sister-in-law. For some reason or other they hated the girl,
and took every opportunity to harass and worry her.

One day when the brothers were away on a journey they said to her,
"Oh! girl, go to the forest and bring a load of firewood without
tying it." What could the girl do? She must obey her sisters-in-law,
or else they would beat her, and give her no food. So she went to the
forest with a heavy heart, bewailing her unhappy lot in the following
plaintive song,

        Woe is me! For I must bring
        Unbound a fagot on my head.

        Oh! brothers dear, I weeping sing
        While business you far hence hath led.

Seeing her grief a Jambro snake asked, "Why daughter, do you cry?" She
replied, "My brothers have gone away on business, and my sisters-in-law
persecute me. They have sent me to bring a bundle of firewood on
my head without tying it." The Jambro took pity on her and said,
"Gather firewood." Then the Jambro stretched himself full length upon
the ground and said to the girl, "Lay the sticks on me." When she
had done so the serpent twined itself round the fagot like a rope,
and said, "Now lift it on to your head, but when you reach home,
lay your burden down gently."

When her sisters-in-law knew that she had done what they considered
impossible, they were still more angry with her, and ordered her to
go to the forest and get milk from a tigress. They gave her a small
earthen vessel, saying, "Go, bring us the milk of a tigress." What
could the girl do? She went to the forest with a heavy heart, bewailing
her unhappy lot in the following plaintive song,

        Woe is me! For I must bring
        A brimful cup of tigress' milk
        Oh! brothers dear, I weeping sing
        While you far hence by trade are lured.

She went to the tiger's den, but only found two cubs, who seeing
her sitting weeping at the entrance said, "What are you seeking?" She
replied, "My sisters-in-law have sent me to bring some of your mother's
milk." The cubs took pity on her and hid her in the cave. They
said to her, "Our mother will devour you, so you must not shew
yourself." In a short time the tigress returned, and entering the
den said, "I smell a human being. Where is he?" The cubs replied,
"There is no one here." The cubs milked a little of their mother's
milk into the girl's vessel, and when the way was clear they gave it
to her, and sent her home.

Her sisters-in-law were greatly disappointed when she brought home
the milk, they had expected that the tiger would have devoured her,
on that she would return home empty handed, and so give them the
opportunity of abusing her for not carrying out their order.

Another day when the brothers were absent they called her, and said,
"Go to the forest and bring us some bear's milk." What could the girl
do? If she did not do as she was bidden her sisters-in-law would beat
her, and give her nothing to eat. So taking the vessel in her hand,
she went to the forest, bewailing her unhappy lot in the following
plaintive strains;

        Woe is me! For I must bring
        A brimful cup of she bear's milk
        Oh! brothers dear, I weeping sing
        While you far hence by trade are lured.

Going to the bear's den she sat down and wept. The she-bear was not
in the den, only two cubs were there, who, when they saw the girl,
took pity upon her, and asked why she wept. She replied, "My brothers
have gone away on business, and my sisters-in-law, who hate me, have
sent me to procure bear's milk in order to harass and annoy me." The
bear cubs then said, "Our mother will eat you, if she finds you,
so we will hide you, and you must keep quiet while she is here." The
she-bear on entering the cave said, "I smell a human being." The cubs
replied, "There is no one here." The young ones succeeded in obtaining
a small quantity of their mother's milk in the girl's earthen vessel,
and after the mother bear had left, the cubs dismissed her with their
best wishes for her welfare.

Her sisters-in-law were extremely annoyed when she presented the bear's
milk to them. They had expected that the bear would have torn her to
pieces, or that she would have returned empty handed, and thus give
them another chance to abuse and reproach her.

The girl's sisters-in-law again took advantage of their husbands'
absence to send her to bring water from the spring in a water-pot with
a hole in it. They said, "Go bring water in this water-pot." What
could the girl do? She placed it on her head, and went towards the
spring bewailing her unhappy lot in the following plaintive song,

        Woe is me! For I must bring
        Spring water in a leaking jar
        Oh! brothers dear, I weeping sing
        While business you far hence hath lured.

She seated herself near the well, and exclaimed, "How can I carry
water in this pot?" At that moment a frog raised his head above the
reeds, and said, "Why do you sit here lamenting?" The girl replied,
"My sisters-in-law, who hate me, have ordered me to bring water in this
pot which has a large hole in the bottom. How is it possible for me
to obey their order?" The frog replied, "Do not worry yourself over
it, I will help you." So he pressed himself tightly over the hole,
and she filled her pot, and carried it home on her head.

Her sisters-in-law, when they saw her place the water-pot on the
ground, full to the brim, were intensely mortified. They had looked
for her returning with an empty pitcher, thus affording them an
ostensible reason for maliciously upbraiding her.

Another time they scattered a large basketful of Mustard seed on
the ground, and ordered her to pick up every seed. They said to her,
"You must gather it all into the basket again." What could she do? If
she failed they would beat her, entreat her spitefully, and deprive
her of food. As she gazed upon the seeds scattered all around her,
she bewailed her unhappy condition as follows:

        Woe is me! I must refill
        This basket with these scattered seeds
        Oh! brothers dear, I weeping sing
        While business you far hence hath lured.

The plaintive murmur of her song had scarcely died away when a
large flock of pigeons alighted near her. They said, "Why do you
weep?" She replied, "My sisters-in-law, who hate me, have scattered
all this mustard seed on the ground, and have ordered me to pick it
all up. One solitary seed must not be left." The pigeons said, "Do
not vex yourself, we will soon pick it up for you." As the pigeons
were very numerous they soon collected it all into the basket. They
did not leave one seed on the ground.

When she called her sisters-in-law to come and see how efficiently the
work had been done, they were furious at being again balked by her,
and vowed vengeance.

Once again, when the brothers were from home, her sisters-in-law
ordered her to go to the jungle, and bring a bale of leaves with
which to make the family cups and plates. They said to her, "Go to
the jungle and bring a large bale of leaves, but do so without in
anyway tying them." What could the girl do? She had been ordered to
perform an impossibility. If she refused, or failed to do it, her
sisters-in-law would beat her, and deprive her of food. So she went to
the forest bewailing her unhappy lot in the following plaintive song;

        Woe is me! For I must bring
        Of forest leaves an unbound bale
        Oh! brothers dear, I weeping sing
        While business you far hence hath lured.

As she was sitting in the forest weeping a Horhorang serpent drew
near and said, "Wherefore daughter do you grieve?" She replied,
"My sisters-in-law hate me and have ordered me to bring leaves
without tying them into a bundle. I cannot do this, and I fear their
resentment, so I cannot help weeping." The Horhorang said, "Vex not
yourself. Go and pluck your leaves and bring them here." She did so,
and the Horhorang twined himself round them binding them into a sheaf,
which the girl placed upon her head, and carried home.

When her sisters-in-law saw the leaves, and had looked to see that
none had fallen by the way they were greatly chagrined. They had
expected an opportunity to reproach her with disobedience, and a
reason for punishing her.

Although her sisters-in-law had imposed so many impossibilities upon
her, yet they had been unable to defeat her. Just at the proper time
some one had appeared to help her.

They had seen a bunch of flowers on the top of a high tree, and one
day when their husbands were away, they said to her, "Climb up into
the tree and pluck the flowers, we wish to dress our hair with them on
the occasion of your marriage." No sooner had she clambered up into
the tree than her sisters-in-law placed thorny bushes all round in
such a manner as to prevent her coming down again. They then went home.

A few days afterwards, the brothers, when returning from a distant
market to which they had gone rested for a little under this tree. A
tear drop fell on the hand of one of them. Looking at it he said,
"Look brothers, this tear drop resembles those of the daughter." Then
they looked and saw her high up in the tree. They quickly brought
her down, and she related how in time past she had been persecuted
by her sisters-in-law whenever they were absent. The brothers were
wroth with their wives for having used her so cruelly.

The brothers put their sister into a bag, and carried her home on a
bullock's back. When the wives came out to welcome them, they asked,
"Where is the daughter?" They gave no reply.

Afterwards the brothers dug a deep well, and on the pretence of
propitiating the water spirit induced their wives to stand round the
well with offerings of rice, &c., in their hands. At a given signal
each hurled his wife head foremost into the well. They then placed
a cart over the opening.

In return for the persecution she had endured at their hands, the
girl used to go to the well and looking in, say, "You treated me
cruelly once, but now, boo sisters boo."


Once upon a time a man had some money given to him, and was told to
go and buy a foal with it. So he set out to search for one. After
a time he came to a village, and going to a house asked the people
if they had a foal to sell, as he wished to buy one. They replied,
"There are no foals here, but we have mare's eggs. If you will take
them we will give them to you." He said, "I will not take eggs, I
want a foal." He went to every house in the village asking if they
had a foal to sell, but none was to be had; but at each they offered
to sell to him mare's eggs.

He then thought within himself, wherever I have gone they have told me
that they have not got a foal, but that they can let me have eggs. This
being so, why should I give myself any further trouble? I will buy
an egg. So he was given a large gourd, and told it was a mare's
egg. Having got, as he thought a mare's egg, he joyfully started
to return to his home. The man who sold him the gourd informed him,
that a foal was certain to be hatched on the way. He was still far
from home when the sun set, so he entered a village, and passed the
night there. In the morning he set out betimes, and about breakfast
time he came to a tank, on the embankment of which he laid down his
gourd. He then went into the water to clean his teeth, after which he
began to wash his face. While he was thus engaged a jackal came and
pushed the gourd down the embankment. The noise frightening the animal
it ran away, but the man having caught a glimpse of it called out,
"My foal has hatched, and is galloping off." He pursued the jackal,
which being terror stricken fled to the jungle, and took refuge in
his burrow. The man was pleased to see the creature enter his hole,
and he said, "He will soon come out again, and then I shall mount him,
and gallop him home." Having said this, he placed himself in such a
position that when the jackal came out he could sit down on its back.

He continued standing thus until nightfall, but even then he had no
intention of relinquishing his chance of capturing his foal. Late at
night some thieves came that way, and seeing him alone in the jungle
asked him what he did there. He replied, "I was sent by my friends to
buy a foal, but as I could not get one, I bought a mare's egg. I was
informed that the egg would hatch on my way home. I spent last night
in a village on the way side, and resumed my homeward journey in the
morning. On arriving at a tank I laid down my egg on the embankment,
and went down into the water, and having cleaned my teeth was washing
my hands and face, when the egg hatched and the foal immediately ran
away. I followed it, and saw it enter this hole, and I am waiting
till it comes out, when I shall mount, and canter it home."

The thieves said, "Leave it alone. Let it remain there. Will you kill
yourself for this foal? Come with us, and we will give you a strong,
beautiful horse. This one has through fear of you riding on his back
gone into this hole. Why should you wait for him? He will stay where
he is. Come with us, and we will supply you with a good one presently."

After a little time spent in considering the offer the thieves had
made him, he decided to accompany them. The thieves were pleased
to receive him into their gang, and at once they proceeded towards
a certain village. Having arrived there they went to a rich man's
house, and dug a hole through the wall. They then said to our hero
of the mare's egg, "You creep in." He raised no objection, but went
willingly. They said to him, "Bring out all the heavy articles you
can find, they are sure to be the most valuable." When inside he
lifted up all he found to test the weight, but nothing seemed to be
sufficiently heavy to be worth stealing. He said, "everything is light,
what can I take out to them?" At length he came across a millstone,
which he pushed through the hole in the wall to his confederates out
side. Judging from its weight he expected they would be delighted to
receive it, but they said, "Not this, Not this. Bring something worth
stealing." So he went back, and finding a drum hanging from the roof he
took it down, and began to beat it. When the thieves heard the sound
of the drum they decamped, saying, "This fool is certain to betray
us to-night." When he brought out the drum to make it over to them,
they were nowhere to be seen, so he re-entered the house and placed
the drum again where he had found it.

He then saw some milk near the fireplace, and being hungry he
determined to cook some food. So helping himself to some rice he began
to prepare it by boiling it in the milk. When it was nearly cooked,
one of the household turned over in his sleep, saying, "I will eat. I
will eat." So he filled a ladle with the boiling rice and milk, and
poured it into the sleeper's mouth. The hot food scalded him terribly,
and he sprang up howling with the pain.

The other members of the family also jumped to their feet, and laid
hold of the intruder, and bound him hand and foot.

When the day broke a large number of people came to see the thief,
and began to question him, as to who were his companions. So he
related all that had occurred. Then they said, "Of a truth, this
man has been the means of protecting us. Had he not acted as he did,
we would have been robbed of all we have."

So they loosed his bonds, and set him free. They also allowed him to
eat the rice and milk he had cooked, which having done, he went home.


[1] Jari is the Santali name for Crotalaria Juncea, a fibre yielding
plant the seeds of which when ripe, rattle in the pods when the plant
is shaken.

[2] Bita is Santali for span, and Bitaram is span Ram, or span-long

[3] A small basket with a contracted opening.

[4] Covering for the head and shoulders made of leaves pinned together,
worn as a protection from the rain by women, while planting rice.

[5] Said to bullocks when ploughing to cause them to turn at the end
of a furrow.

[6] Ghur pank is a phrase used by ploughmen when turning their bullocks
at the end of a furrow.

[7] Mount the buffalo.

[8] The spirit believed to preside over a certain class of rice land.

[9] Semi-Hinduised aborigines, whose touch is considered polluting.

[10] Ficus religiosa, Willd. one of the hugest of India's many
huge trees.

[11] The fibre yielded by Bauhinia Vahlii, W. and A. goes under that
name among the Santals.

[12] Lelha in Santali means foolish.

[13] Diamonds.

[14] A mythical gem, said to be found in the heads of certain snakes.

[15] Celestial horses.

[16] Celestial Maiden.

[17] Ægle Marmelos, Correa.

[18] A mythical bird which figures largely in Indian folk lore.

[19] Huti is the name given by Santals to a certain timber boring
insect. Budhi is an old woman.

[20] Calotropis gigantea, R. Br.

[21] Diospyros tomentosa.

[22] Ischoemum agustifolium, Hack.

[23] Stereospermum suaveolens, D. C.

[24] Recinus communis, Linn.

*** End of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Santal Folk Tales" ***

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