Chapter I: Part 1

FOLK TALES FROM TIBET

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY A TIBETAN ARTIST
AND SOME VERSES FROM TIBETAN LOVE-SONGS

COLLECTED AND TRANSLATED
BY
CAPT. W. F. O’CONNOR, C.I.E.
Secretary and Interpreter of the Mission to Lhasa (1904)

LONDON
HURST AND BLACKETT, LTD.
182, HIGH HOLBORN, W.C.

1906

All rights reserved

PREFACE.

In presenting these little stories to the public, it may perhaps be of interest if I describe how I came by them.

During two years spent in Tibet, at Gyantse, Lhasa, and elsewhere, I have made many friends amongst all classes of Tibetans—high and low, rich and poor—and have conversed with all sorts of persons upon all sorts of topics. In the course of my wanderings I learned that there exists amongst this fascinating and little-known people a wealth of folk-lore, hitherto inaccessible to the outside world, and I made efforts to collect as many of their stories as I could.

For certain special reasons this quest proved more difficult than I had anticipated. In the first place, I found that many of the best known stories had been imported bodily from India [1] or China, and possess but little of that local colouring which is one of the chief charms of folk-lore. Secondly, some of the very best and most characteristic stories are unfit for publication in such a book as this. [2] And, thirdly, human nature being much the same all the world over, it was not always possible to find a suitable raconteur in a suitable mood for story-telling. A story told by a nervous or reluctant narrator loses half its charm. A good story must be natural, and necessitates sympathy on the part both of teller and of hearer. Armed diplomatic missions and an official position, apart from all questions of difference of language and nationality, do not tend to elicit the ideal sentiments necessary for the establishment of complete mutual confidence.

But patience, and the growth of kindly feelings on both sides, helped me to some extent to overcome the shyness and reluctance of the simple folk who have supplied me with my material; and, as time went on, I was able to coax a story from many unlikely sources. Village headmen, monks, servants, local government officials, peasants, traders—these and many others have contributed to my store. Shyly and haltingly at starting, with many bashful apologies and disclaimers, the story-teller will begin his tale. But a Tibetan audience is one of the best imaginable, and their open sympathy and appreciation soon melt the frosts of reserve, and the words flow freely. Presently all sense of constraint is lost, and I have known a story interrupted for ten minutes at a time by the uncontrollable merriment aroused by some comic incident.

Some of the stories, then, I have been obliged, reluctantly enough, to discard altogether for the present; others require further revision or elucidation. But the rest of my little store I give here, and with this one apology: that I have made no attempt to ornament or improve upon them. I have written them down just as I heard them, and have translated them, as accurately as I could, from the Tibetan idiom into ours. As to their origin or scientific bearing I say nothing, and put forward no theories. I leave the Tales to speak for themselves; but would invite, and shall cordially welcome, the criticisms and surmises of all students of folk-lore who are in a position to give an expert opinion upon such points, and to shed a light upon obscure corners into which I have been unable to penetrate.

I have added to the stories a few verses taken at random from popular Tibetan love-songs, as a sample of the wealth of imagery and genuine poetic sentiment which is to be found amongst the inhabitants of this strange country. Owing to the extremely idiomatic form and severe compression of Tibetan metrical compositions, the translation of these songs into anything even distantly resembling poetry, without altogether destroying the characteristics of the original, presents peculiar difficulties; and I must crave indulgence for their crudeness and lack of artistic finish.

The pictures are the maiden effort at book illustration of a Tibetan artist, resident at Gyantse, and are, I fear, somewhat weak in details, as owing to my absence from Gyantse during the time they were in progress I was unable personally to superintend their execution. For the excellent photograph which appears as the frontispiece I am indebted to my friend and companion at Gyantse, Capt. R. Steen, of the Indian Medical Service.

In conclusion, I must express my grateful acknowledgments to Mr. Perceval Landon, to whose suggestion the collection and publication of these Tales, as well as their illustration by a native artist, is in a great measure due; and I must thank him, moreover, for many valuable hints and much kindly sympathy and assistance.

W. F. O’Connor, Capt.

CONTENTS.

PAGE
I.—How the Hare got his Lip Split 1
II.—The Story of the Tiger and the Man 6
III.—The Story of Good Faith 12
IV.—The Story of the Two Neighbours 20
V.—The Story of the Cat and the Mice 26
VI.—The Story of the Foolish Young Mussulman 30
VII.—The Kyang, the Fox, the Wolf and the Hare 43
VIII.—The Frog and the Crow 48
IX.—The Hare and the Lions 51
X.—The Sheep, the Lamb, the Wolf and the Hare 56
XI.—The Story of how the Hare made a Fool of the Wolf 60
XII.—The Mouse’s Three Children 68
XIII.—The Jackals and the Tiger 76
XIV.—The Story of the Three Thieves 80
XV.—The Story of the Boy with the Deformed Head 92
XVI.—The Prince and the Ogre’s Castle 103
XVII.—The Story of the Stone Lion 116
XVIII.—The Story of the Lama’s Servant 124
XIX.—The Country of the Mice 133
XX.—The Story of the Tortoise and the Monkey 141
XXI.—The Story of Room Bacha and Baki 147
XXII.—The Story of the Home-bred Boy 158
The Story of the Home-bred Boy (continued) 166
The Story of the Home-bred Boy (continued) 172
Some Verses from Tibetan Love-songs 175

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

One of the Story-tellers, with his Family and Servants Frontispiece
The Hare and the Tiger Facing p. 2
The Wicked Neighbour removing Young Sparrow from Nest 22
“Worthy Father, I am turned into this” 25
The Young Mussulman pursued by his own Shadow 35
The Crow and the Frog in the Gutter 48
The Hare conversing with the Wolf 58
The Tiger and the Monkey approaching the Jackal’s Den 79
The Dragon attacking the Griffon’s Nest 98
The Stone Lion vomiting Gold 121
The Mice Crossing the Stream 137
The Monkey calling into the Tortoise’s Cave 145
The Glass Pillars dancing for the Ogre 147

FOLK TALES FROM TIBET.

STORY No. I.

HOW THE HARE GOT HIS SPLIT LIP.

A hare was going along a road one day, when suddenly, on turning a corner, he came upon a large Tiger. The Tiger at once seized the Hare, and said that he was going to eat him.

“Please, please, Uncle Tiger,” said the Hare, holding up his thumbs in supplication, “please don’t eat me, I am only a very small beast, and will make a very insufficient meal for a great big animal like you. And if you will spare my life I will take you to where you can find a much bigger, fatter creature than me for your supper.”

“Very well,” said the Tiger, “I agree to that. But if you don’t show me a much bigger animal than you are, I shall certainly be obliged to eat you.”

So he released the Hare, and the two walked off along the road together.

As they went along night began to fall, and when it was quite dark the Hare began smacking his chops and making sounds as if he was eating something very nice.

“What are you eating, Brother Hare?” asked the Tiger.

“I am eating my eye, Uncle Tiger,” replied the Hare. “I have taken it out and eaten it; it is very nice, and it soon grows again.”

The Tiger was rather surprised at hearing this, but being very hungry he proceeded to scrape out his own eye and eat it up. After going a little further the Hare again began smacking his lips, as if he was eating something.

“What are you eating now, Brother Hare?” asked the Tiger.

“I am eating my other eye, Uncle Tiger,” replied the Hare; “it is even better than the first.”

The foolish Tiger on hearing this proceeded to scrape out his other eye and eat that.

The Tiger was now quite blind, and the Hare led him along to the brink of a deep gulf, where he advised the Tiger to sit down and rest for a while. And after the Tiger was seated, the Hare said:

“Don’t you find it cold, Uncle Tiger? shall I light you a fire?”

“Yes, please, Brother Hare,” said the Tiger, “I think a fire would be very pleasant.”

So the Hare lighted a fire just in front of the Tiger, and when it was blazing up he kept putting the sticks nearer and nearer the Tiger, so that the Tiger was obliged to keep edging further and further away, when all of a sudden he toppled over backwards into the gulf behind. Now it happened that half-way down the gulf a tree was growing from a cleft in the precipice, and as he passed this the Tiger seized one of the boughs with his teeth, and so arrested his fall. The Hare, peeping over the edge, saw what had happened, and he called out:

“Oh, Uncle Tiger, Uncle Tiger, are you safe?”

The Tiger was afraid to open his mouth to reply, and all he could do was to growl, “M—m—m——”

“Oh, Uncle Tiger,” said the Hare, “is that all you can say? I am afraid you must be very badly hurt. Do just say ‘Ah!’ and I shall know that you are all right.”

The Tiger, anxious to please the Hare, opened his mouth to say “Ah!” and was instantly precipitated to the bottom of the gulf, where he fell upon some rocks and was killed.

Next morning the Hare went hopping down the road when he met a Man driving along a lot of Horses.

“Good morning, Father Man,” said he to the driver. “Would you like to know where you can find a good Tiger’s skin?”

“Yes, please, Brother Hare,” said the Man, thinking he would sell the skin and make a lot of money.

So the Hare pointed out to him where the dead Tiger lay in the ravine, and the Man hastened off to skin it, after first asking the Hare to take care of his Horses while he was away.

As soon as he was out of sight the Hare saw two Ravens sitting in a tree overhead. He called out to them:

“Brothers Raven, look here! Here are a lot of Horses with no one in charge. Why don’t you come down and feed on the sores on their backs?”

The Ravens thought this was a good idea, and flying down, they perched on the Horses’ backs, and began to dig their beaks into the sore places. The poor Horses, in fear and pain, soon stampeded, and galloped about all over the country.

The Hare then hopped on a little further down the road and came upon a Boy tending Sheep.

“Good-morning, Brother Boy,” said the Hare, “would you like to know where there is a fine Raven’s nest, full of eggs?”

“Yes, please, Brother Hare,” said the Boy, thinking he would climb the tree and take the Raven’s eggs. So the Hare pointed out to him the tree where the Raven’s nest was, and the Boy ran off to get the eggs, after first asking the Hare to take charge of the Sheep for him while he was away.

The Hare soon espied a Wolf on the hill-side not far off, so he went up to him and said:

“Good-morning, Brother Wolf, do you know that there is a fine flock of Sheep quite unguarded down there, and I should advise you to take advantage of this opportunity of killing some of them.”

The Wolf at once rushed down the hill into the middle of the flock of Sheep, scattering them all in every direction, and killing as many as he thought he required for his own use.

Meanwhile the Hare proceeded to the top of a high hill whence he could survey the whole country. From there he was able to discern the dead Tiger lying in the ravine, with the Man stripping off its skin; the Horses careering all over the country, with the Ravens pecking at the sores on their backs; the Boy robbing the Raven’s nest; and the Sheep, pursued by the Wolf, scattered to the four quarters of the compass.

The sight so amused the Hare that he leaned back on a handy stone, and laughed to such an extent that he actually split his upper lip. And it has remained split to this very day.

STORY No. II.

THE STORY OF THE TIGER AND THE MAN.

Once upon a time there were two Tigers who lived in a certain forest and had a family of three children. The Father Tiger grew old and began to fail, and just before his death he sent for his three children and addressed them as follows:

“Remember, my children,” said he, “that the Tiger is Lord of the jungle; he roams about at his will and makes a prey of the other animals as he wishes, and none can gainsay him. But there is one animal against whom you must be on your guard. He alone is more powerful and cunning than the Tiger. That animal is Man, and I warn you solemnly before I die to beware of Man, and on no account to try to hunt or to kill him.”

So saying, the old Tiger turned on his side and died.

The three young Tigers listened respectfully to the words of their dying parent and promised to obey; and the elder brothers, who were obedient sons, were careful to follow his advice. They confined their attentions to the slaughter of deer, pigs, and other denizens of the forest, and were careful, whenever they came within sight or scent of any human being, to clear off as fast as they could from so dangerous a neighbourhood. But the youngest Tiger was of an independent and inquisitive disposition. As he grew older and stronger he began to chafe against the restriction that had been imposed upon him.

“What, after all,” thought he to himself, “can be this creature Man that I should not slay him if I wish. I am told that he is but a defenceless creature, that his strength cannot be compared to mine, and that his claws and teeth are quite contemptible. I can pull down the largest stag or tackle the fiercest boar with impunity. Why, then, should not I be able to kill and eat Man also?”

So after a while, in his conceit and folly, he determined to quit his own part of the forest and to venture forth towards the open country in search of a Man as his prey. His two brothers and his mother tried to reason with him and to persuade him to remember the words of his dying father, but with no avail; and finally, one fine morning, in spite of their prayers and entreaties, he set off alone on his search.

He had not proceeded very far when he met an old, worn-out pack-Bullock, thin and emaciated, and with the marks of many ancient scars on his back. The young Tiger had never seen a Bullock before, and he regarded the creature with some curiosity. Walking up to it he said:

“What sort of animal are you, pray? Are you a Man by any chance?”

“No, indeed,” replied the creature; “I am only a poor Bullock.”

“Ah!” said the Tiger. “Well, perhaps you can tell me what sort of an animal Man is, for I am just going out to find and kill one.”

“Beware of Man, young Tiger,” replied the Bullock; “he is a dangerous and a faithless creature. Just look at me for example. From the time when I was very young I was Man’s servant. I carried loads for him on my back, as you may see by these scars, and for many years I slaved for him faithfully and well. While I was young and strong he cared for me and valued me highly; but as soon as I became old and weak, and was no longer able to do his work, he turned me out into this wild jungle to seek my food as best I might, and gave no thought for me in my old age. I warn you solemnly to leave him alone and not to try and kill him. He is very cunning and dangerous.”

But the young Tiger only laughed at the warning and went on his way. Soon afterwards he came across an ancient Elephant wandering by itself on the outskirts of the forest, and feeding with its trunk on the grasses and foliage which it loves. The old animal had a wrinkled skin and a small and bleary eye, and behind its huge ears were many cuts and ancient scars, showing where the goad had been so frequently applied.

The young Tiger eyed this strange animal with some surprise, and going up to it he said:

“What sort of an animal are you, please? You are not a Man, I suppose?”

“No, indeed,” replied the Elephant; “I am only a poor old worn-out Elephant.”

“Is that so?” answered the Tiger. “Perhaps you can tell me, however, what sort of a creature Man is, as I am now hunting for one in order to kill and eat him.”

“Beware how you hunt Man, young Tiger,” replied the old Elephant; “he is a faithless and dangerous animal. Look at my case. Although I am the Lord of the jungle, Man tamed me, and trained me, and made me his servant for many years. He put a saddle on my back and made stirrups of my ears, and he used to strike me over my head with an iron goad. While I was young and strong he valued me highly. Food was brought to me, as much as I could eat every day, and I had a special attendant who used to wash and groom me, and to see to all my wants. But when I became old and too infirm for further work, he turned me out into the jungle to fend for myself as best I could. If you will take my advice you will leave Man alone, or it will be the worse for you in the end.”

But the young Tiger laughed contemptuously and went on his way. After proceeding for some little distance he heard the sound of some one chopping wood, and creeping near he saw that it was a Woodcutter engaged in felling a tree. After watching him for some time the Tiger emerged from the jungle, and going up to the Man, he asked what sort of an animal he was. The Woodcutter replied:

“Why, what an ignorant Tiger you are; can’t you see that I am a Man?”

“Oh, are you,” replied the Tiger, “what a piece of luck for me. I was just looking for a Man in order to kill and eat him, and you will do nicely.”

On hearing this the Woodcutter began to laugh. “Kill and eat me,” he replied; “why, don’t you know that Man is much too clever to be killed and eaten by a Tiger? Just come with me a little way and I will show you some things which only a Man knows, but which will be very useful for you to learn.”

The Tiger thought that this was a good idea, so he followed the Man through the jungle until they came to the Man’s house, which was strongly built of timber and heavy logs.

“What is that place?” said the Tiger when he saw it.

“That is called a house,” replied the Man. “I will show you how we use it.”

And so saying he went inside and shut the door.

“Now,” said he, speaking from the inside to the Tiger, “you see what a foolish creature a Tiger is compared to a Man. You poor animals live in a hole in the forest, exposed to wind, rain, cold and heat; and all your strength is of no value to make a house like this. Whereas I, although I am so much weaker than you, can build myself a fine house, where I live at my ease, indifferent to the weather and secure from the attacks of wild animals.”

On hearing this the young Tiger flew into a violent passion.

“What right,” said he, “has an ugly, defenceless creature like you to possess such a lovely house? Look at me, with my beautiful stripes, and my great teeth and claws, and my long tail. I am far more worthy than you of a house. Come out at once, and give your house over to me.”

“Oh, very well,” said the Man, and he came out of the house leaving the door open, and the Tiger stalked in.

“Now, look at me,” called out the conceited young Tiger from inside, “don’t I look nice in my fine house?”

“Very nice indeed,” replied the Man, and bolting the door outside he walked off with his axe, leaving the Tiger to starve to death.

STORY No. III.

THE STORY OF GOOD FAITH.

The Tiger soon got tired of sitting in the house and tried to force his way out; but the house was too strongly built for him to be able to make any impression upon the walls, so he gave it up in despair and soon began to suffer severely from hunger and thirst. Two or three days passed away and the Tiger was in a sorry state, when, as he was peering through a chink in the logs he saw a little Musk Deer, which had come down to drink at the stream which was close by. When the Tiger saw the Deer he called out to her:

“Oh, Sister Deer, will you please come and open the door of this house. I am shut up inside, and as I have nothing to eat and drink I am afraid of starving to death.”

The Deer was a good deal frightened when she heard the Tiger’s voice, but when she understood how matters were she was reassured, and replied:

“Oh, Uncle Tiger, I am very sorry to hear of your misfortune. But I am afraid if I open the door and let you out you will kill and eat me.”

“No, no, I won’t,” replied the Tiger, “you can rely upon me. I promise you faithfully that if you will release me I will let you go free.”

Accordingly, the Deer came up to the house and unbolted the door from the outside, and the Tiger sprang out joyfully. As soon as he got outside he seized upon the Deer and said:

“I am very sorry for you, Sister Deer, but the fact is I am so famished that really I have no alternative but to eat you immediately.”

“This is really too bad,” replied the Deer; “after promising faithfully that you would not eat me, and after the benefit which I have conferred upon you, you should certainly keep faith with me.”

“Faith!” said the Tiger. “What is faith? I don’t believe there is any such thing as good faith.”

“Is there not?” answered the Deer. “Well now, let us make a bargain. We will ask the first three living things we meet whether or no there is such a thing as good faith. If they say there is not, then you are welcome to kill and eat me; but if they say there is such a thing, then you shall let me go free.”

“Very good,” said the Tiger, “I agree to that; that is a bargain.”

So the two set off together side by side, and after proceeding a short distance down the road they came upon a large Tree growing by the roadside.

“Good-morning, Brother Tree,” said the Musk Deer, “we want to refer a question to you for your decision.”

The Tree waved its branches in the air and replied in a gentle voice:

“What is your question, Sister Deer? I am ready to do my best to help you.”

“The case is this,” replied the Musk Deer, “a short while ago I found this Tiger shut up in a Woodcutter’s hut in the forest, unable to get out. He called out to me asking me to open the door of the hut, promising me, if I did so, that he would let me go free. So I opened the door and let him out. No sooner was he released than he seized upon me and threatened to kill and eat me; and when I reproached him of breaking his faith, he said he did not believe that there was such a thing as good faith in the world. So we made a bargain that we would ask the first three living things we met whether or no there is such a thing as good faith in this world. If they say there is not, then the Tiger is to kill and eat me; but if they say that there is such a thing, then I am to go free. Will you please give us an opinion as to whether such a thing as good faith exists or not.”

On hearing this story the great Tree moved its branches slowly in the breeze and replied as follows:

“I am much interested in your story, Sister Deer, and would gladly help you if I could; but I am bound to answer you honestly in accordance with my own experience of life. Now consider my own case. I grow here by the roadside and spread my branches over the dusty highway ready to give shelter to man and beast in their shade. Travellers passing constantly up and down the road avail themselves of this cool retreat, and they come themselves and they bring their poor beasts of burden to rest in my shadow. And then what happens? Are they grateful to me for the comfort which I afford them? Does my example inspire them with any consideration for others? Far from it. When they have rested and refreshed themselves enough, they proceed on their way, and not only do they not thank me for my hospitality, but they break off my tender branches and use them as whips, further to goad and distress their weary animals. Can such conduct as that be called good faith? No, I am bound to say that my experience of life leads me to believe that there is no such thing as good faith in this world.”

The poor Musk Deer was much cast down on hearing these words, and she and the Tiger moved on together till, a little farther along the road, they caught sight of a Cow Buffalo and her Calf grazing quietly in a field of succulent grass. They noticed that the old Cow contented herself with the driest and smallest patches of grass, whilst showing her Calf where to find the richest and most luxuriant pasture, and that she willingly deprived herself of any comfort in order to afford pleasure to the youngster. The Tiger and the Deer approached the old Cow, and the Deer, addressing her, said:

“Good-morning, Aunt Buffalo! This Tiger and I have a small matter which we wish to refer to you for an opinion.”

The Buffalo gazed at them with her big eyes, and after ruminating for a while she replied slowly:

“Say on, Sister Deer, I am ready to give you my opinion for what it is worth.”

“Well,” said the Deer, “this Tiger was shut up in a hut in the forest, and being unable to open the door, he was in danger of starving to death. I happened to pass by, and he called to me, asking me to let him out, promising that if I did so he would spare my life. So I opened the door and released him. But no sooner was he free than he seized upon me and said that he would kill and eat me; and when I reproached him with his bad faith, he replied that he did not believe that such a thing as good faith existed. So we made a bargain that we would ask the first three living things we met whether or no they believed that there is such a thing as good faith. If they say there is not, then the Tiger is to eat me; but if they say that there is such a thing, I am to go free. Now, will you please give us your opinion on the matter.”

On hearing this statement the old Buffalo continued to chew the cud for some minutes, and then replied gravely:

“I would gladly help you in the matter, Sister Deer, if I could; but I must regard it from the point of view of my own experience in life. I am considering the case of myself and my Calf. While the Calf is young and tender, I do all in my power to nourish and care for it. I first give it my milk, and later on, as you see, I encourage it to browse upon the best of the herbage, whilst I gladly stint myself in order that it may have plenty of the best of everything. But what happens later on, when the Calf grows strong and lusty? Does it remember its old mother with gratitude, and fend for her in her old age? Far from it. As soon as it is big enough it will push me away from the places where I am grazing and take the best for itself, and will drive me away altogether from the pastures if it can. Can that be called keeping faith with its mother? No; my experience makes me believe that there is no such thing as good faith in this world.”

When the Musk Deer heard this she was much downhearted, and fully expected to be killed and eaten without further delay; but she begged the Tiger to give her one more chance, saying that she was fully prepared to abide by the opinion of the third person whom they met.

The Tiger consented to this, and after going on a little farther together they met a Hare, hopping quietly down the road towards them.

“Good-morning, Brother Hare,” called out the Musk Deer; “could you spare us a few moments to give us an opinion upon a point of difference which has arisen between this Tiger and myself?”

“Certainly,” replied the Hare, stopping short in the roadway. “I shall be delighted to do the best I can for you.”

“Well,” replied the Musk Deer, “the facts are as follows: I was drinking just now at a stream in the forest when I noticed this Tiger shut up in a Woodcutter’s hut. The door was bolted outside, and he was unable to come out, and was in danger of starving to death, so he called out to me, asking me to release him, promising me, if I did so, that he would spare my life. I accordingly opened the door; but no sooner did the Tiger come out, than he seized upon me, saying that he was so hungry that he had really no alternative but to devour me on the spot. And when I reproached him for his bad faith, he replied that he did not know what good faith was, and, in fact, did not believe that such a thing existed. So we made a bargain that we would ask the first three living creatures we met whether or no there is such a thing as good faith in this world. If they say there is, then I am to go free; but if they say there is not, then the Tiger is at liberty to kill and eat me. We have already consulted two persons in the matter, and they are both of opinion that there is no such thing as good faith. You are the third and last, and on your decision depends my life.”

“Dear me,” replied the Hare, “this is a very strange story, and before giving an opinion on so momentous a matter it is necessary that I should understand exactly how it all happened. Let me see. You say that you were shut up in the Woodcutter’s hut.”

“No, no,” broke in the Tiger; “it was I who was shut up in the Woodcutter’s hut.”

“Oh! I see,” said the Hare; “then the Musk Deer must have shut you in?”

“Oh! no,” interrupted the Musk Deer. “You don’t seem to understand at all; that was not how it happened.”

“Well,” said the Hare, “it is such a complicated story that it is difficult to follow it exactly. So before giving a decision I propose that we all adjourn to the scene of action, and there you can explain to me precisely what occurred.”

The Tiger and the Musk Deer agreed to this, and the three set off together until they arrived at the Woodcutter’s hut in the forest.

“Now,” said the Hare, “will you please explain to me exactly what happened. Where, for instance, were you, Sister Deer, at the time the Tiger spoke to you?”

“I was down here drinking at the stream, so,” replied the Deer, going off to the place in question.

“And where were you, Uncle Tiger?” said the Hare.

“Well, I was inside the hut, thus,” replied the Tiger, going inside the house.

“And the door, I presume, must have been shut, so?” said the Hare. And so saying he shut the door and bolted it; and he and the Deer went on their way safely, leaving the Tiger shut up inside, where he shortly after starved to death.

STORY No. IV.

THE STORY OF THE TWO NEIGHBOURS.

Once upon a time there were two Neighbours living in two houses, side by side, in the same village. One of these was rich, and the other one poor. The rich man, whose name was Tse-ring, was proud, arrogant, and stingy; whilst the poor man, whose name was Cham-ba, was a kind-hearted man, who was generous to all as far as his means allowed.

Now it happened that a pair of Sparrows came and built their nest in the eaves over the doorway of the poor man’s house, where, in the course of time, the young birds were hatched out. One day, before the young birds had learnt to fly, the two old Sparrows were away hunting for food, and one of the young ones fell out of its nest on to the poor man’s door-step, and broke its leg. Shortly after the poor man coming into his house saw the young Sparrow lying helpless on his door-step, so he picked it up to see what was wrong, and found that its leg was broken. So he carried it into the house, and very carefully bound up its leg with a piece of thread; and then took it up to the roof, and put it back in the nest.

Now this Sparrow, although the poor man did not know it, was really a fairy in disguise, and later on, when it had grown up, it flew out one day and returned with its beak full of grain. The poor man was sitting in his house when the little Sparrow flew in and perched on the table in front of him. It dropped the grain on the table, and after giving one or two chirps it said to the man:

“This grain is in return for your kindness to me. Plant it in your garden and see what comes up,” and so saying it flew away.

The poor man was very much surprised at hearing the Sparrow speak, and he thought to himself:

“Well, this is not a very valuable present, but still it shows how grateful even a little bird can be for a kindness done to him; and any way I will plant the grain in my garden as it directed.”

So he planted the grain just in front of his house, and soon forgot all about the incident.

A month or two later the grain grew, and soon attained its full height; and one day the poor man, going to look at it, was astonished to find that, instead of grain, each ear of corn contained a valuable jewel. He was very much delighted at this discovery, and having collected all the jewels, he carried them away to a neighbouring town, where he was able to sell them for a large sum of money, and thus found himself in a condition of great comfort and prosperity.

Soon after this the rich Neighbour, having observed the change which had taken place in the poor man’s circumstances, came over one day in order to try and find out how Cham-ba had become so rich and prosperous. He carried over with him a jug of beer, and, on the pretence of conviviality, he offered his Neighbour a drink, and during the course of the conversation which followed he asked Cham-ba to tell him the secret of his new wealth. Cham-ba, who was of a very unsuspicious nature, related to him the whole story of the Sparrow, the grain, and the jewels, and having learnt the secret the rich man returned to his own house, pondering deeply how he could turn this story to his own advantage.

Now it happened that a Sparrow had hatched out her young in a nest just over his house door also. So next day he went up on to the roof, and leaning out over the parapet he picked out a young Sparrow from the nest with a pair of chop-sticks, and dropped it on to the ground below, where the poor little bird broke its leg. He then went down, picked up the young Sparrow, bound up its leg with a piece of thread, and put it back into its nest, saying as he did so that he hoped it would remember his kindness.

Sure enough, when the Sparrow grew up it flew into his house one day, and perched on the table before him. It dropped some grain from its beak, and after a few preliminary chirps it said:

“This grain is a present in return for your kindness to me. Plant it in your garden and see what grows up.”

The rich man was greatly delighted on hearing this, and thought to himself that he would soon be the possessor of beautiful jewels like his Neighbour. He prepared a bed very carefully in his garden, and planted the grain in the richest part of the soil. Every day he used to go and watch the spot, carefully examining the young shoots to see how they were getting on.

The seeds sprouted and grew very fast, and one morning, when he went out as usual to see how his crop was doing, to his astonishment he found that instead of a few stalks of barley, as he had expected, a great fierce-looking man, with a bundle of papers under his arm, was standing in the middle of the bed. The rich man was very frightened at seeing this truculent-looking stranger, and asked who he was.

“I was a creditor of yours in one of your former existences,” replied the Apparition. “You were then heavily in my debt, and I have come back here with all the necessary documents to claim what you owed me.”

So saying, the Stranger seized upon the rich man’s house, his cattle, his sheep, his lands, and all his possessions, and reduced the rich man to the position of a slave in his household.

Some months after, Cham-ba, now rich and prosperous, started off on a journey, and before going he asked Tse-ring to take charge of a bag of gold-dust for him, and to keep it until he returned. Tse-ring undertook the charge of the gold, but in his new state of poverty and dependence he was unable to resist the temptation of spending some of it, and at last he found that the whole of the gold left in his charge was exhausted. Not knowing what to do he filled the bag with sand, and awaited his Neighbour’s return with some trepidation.

A few days after Cham-ba came back from his journey, and called upon his Neighbour, and asked for his bag of gold. Tse-ring produced the bag and handed it over to Cham-ba without saying anything, and when Cham-ba opened it to see whether the gold was all right he found that it contained sand instead of gold.

“How is this?” said he. “I entrusted to you a bag of gold-dust, and you have given me back only sand.”

The dishonest Neighbour had no reply to make. He pretended to look very surprised, and all he could say was:

“My friend, it has turned into this! My friend, it has turned into this!”

Cham-ba said nothing more, but carried off the bag to his own house.

Soon afterwards Cham-ba announced his intention of starting a school for little boys, where they would be taught free, and Tse-ring, thinking that a free education for his Son was not to be neglected, sent over his young Son to attend the school. A few days later he found it necessary to make a short journey to a neighbouring town, and before starting he entrusted his little Son to his neighbour, Cham-ba, and asked him to look after the boy until his return.

As soon as he was gone Cham-ba procured a tame Monkey and taught it to say the following words.

“Worthy father, I am turned into this! Worthy father, I am turned into this!”

When Tse-ring returned from his journey he walked over to the school-house one day to see how his Son was getting on, and he found Cham-ba seated there teaching the boys their lessons. Tse-ring looked round to see his Son, but could not detect him anywhere, but to his surprise he noticed a Monkey seated on one of the benches.

“Where is my son?” asked Tse-ring, “and how is he getting on?”

Cham-ba said nothing, but picked up the Monkey and carried it to him.

“What do you mean by this?” said Tse-ring. “This is not my Son. Where is the boy whom I entrusted to your care?”

Whereupon the Monkey spoke up and said:

“Worthy father, I am turned into this! Worthy father, I am turned into this!”

The father flew into a violent rage and stormed at his neighbour, Cham-ba, for some time, but without producing any impression. Finally, on thinking the matter over, he decided it was better to pay up the gold he had stolen, on condition of having his proper Son restored to him.

STORY No. V.

THE STORY OF THE CAT AND THE MICE.

Once upon a time there was a Cat who lived in a large farm-house in which there was a great number of Mice. For many years the Cat found no difficulty in catching as many Mice as she wanted to eat, and she lived a very peaceful and pleasant life. But as time passed on she found that she was growing old and infirm, and that it was becoming more and more difficult for her to catch the same number of Mice as before; so after thinking very carefully what was the best thing to do, she one day called all the Mice together, and after promising not to touch them, she addressed them as follows:

“Oh! Mice,” said she, “I have called you together in order to say something to you. The fact is that I have led a very wicked life, and now, in my old age, I repent of having caused you all so much inconvenience and annoyance. So I am going for the future to turn over a new leaf. It is my intention now to give myself up entirely to religious contemplation and no longer to molest you, so henceforth you are at liberty to run about as freely as you will without fear of me. All I ask of you is that twice every day you should all file past me in procession and each one make an obeisance as you pass me by, as a token of your gratitude to me for my kindness.”

When the Mice heard this they were greatly pleased, for they thought that now, at last, they would be free from all danger from their former enemy, the Cat. So they very thankfully promised to fulfil the Cat’s conditions, and agreed that they would file past her and make a salaam twice every day.

So when evening came the Cat took her seat on a cushion at one end of the room, and the Mice all went by in single file, each one making a profound salaam as it passed.

Now the cunning old Cat had arranged this little plan very carefully with an object of her own; for, as soon as the procession had all passed by with the exception of one little Mouse, she suddenly seized the last Mouse in her claws without anybody else noticing what had happened, and devoured it at her leisure. And so twice every day, she seized the last Mouse of the series, and for a long time lived very comfortably without any trouble at all in catching her Mice, and without any of the Mice realising what was happening.

Now it happened that amongst these Mice there were two friends, whose names were Rambé and Ambé, who were very much attached to one another. Now these two were much cleverer and more cunning than most of the others, and after a few days they noticed that the number of Mice in the house seemed to be decreasing very much, in spite of the fact that the Cat had promised not to kill any more. So they laid their heads together and arranged a little plan for future processions. They agreed that Rambé was always to walk at the very front of the procession of the Mice, and that Ambé was to bring up the rear, and that all the time the procession was passing, Rambé was to call to Ambé, and Ambé to answer Rambé at frequent intervals. So next evening, when the procession started as usual, Rambé marched along in front, and Ambé took up his position last of all. As soon as Rambé had passed the cushion where the Cat was seated and had made his salaam, he called out in a shrill voice.

“Where are you, Brother Ambé?”

“Here I am, Brother Rambé,” squeaked the other from the rear of the procession. And so they went on calling and answering one another until they had all filed past the Cat, who had not dared to touch Ambé as long as his brother kept calling to him.

The Cat was naturally very much annoyed at having to go hungry that evening, and felt very cross all night. But she thought it was only an accident which had brought the two friends, one in front and one in rear of the procession, and she hoped to make up for her enforced abstinence by finding a particularly fat Mouse at the end of the procession next morning. What, then, was her amazement and disgust when she found that on the following morning the very same arrangement had been made, and that Rambé called to Ambé, and Ambé answered Rambé until all the Mice had passed her by, and so, for the second time, she was foiled of her meal. However, she disguised her feelings of anger and decided to give the Mice one more trial; so in the evening she took her seat as usual on the cushion and waited for the Mice to appear.

Meanwhile, Rambé and Ambé had warned the other Mice to be on the lookout, and to be ready to take flight the moment the Cat showed any appearance of anger. At the appointed time the procession started as usual, and as soon as Rambé had passed the Cat he squeaked out:

“Where are you, Brother Ambé?”

“Here I am, Brother Rambé,” came the shrill voice from the rear.

This was more than the Cat could stand. She made a fierce leap right into the middle of the Mice, who, however, were thoroughly prepared for her, and in an instant they scuttled off in every direction to their holes. And before the Cat had time to catch a single one the room was empty and not a sign of a Mouse was to be seen anywhere.

After this the Mice were very careful not to put any further trust in the treacherous Cat, who soon after died of starvation owing to her being unable to procure any of her customary food; whilst Rambé and Ambé lived for many years, and were held in high honour and esteem by all the other Mice in the community.

STORY No. VI.

THE STORY OF THE FOOLISH YOUNG MUSSULMAN.

There was once a young Mussulman, who lived with his poor mother in a small cottage on the outskirts of a large town. As the Boy grew up, it was found that he was rather weak-minded, and that he was continually getting himself into scrapes, owing to his own folly and carelessness; and the naughty boys of the neighbourhood used to take advantage of the poor young fellow, and were constantly teasing him and telling him all sorts of absurd stories.

It chanced one day that he went for a walk in a large meadow, where there were a number of yellow flowers, and presently sitting down to rest, he began to gather a nosegay, when a young man passing by called out to him:

“Hullo! what are you doing there? Do you know that the soles of your feet are all yellow, and that is a sure sign that you are going to die at once?”

The poor young fellow was greatly frightened at hearing this, and he thought to himself:

“Well, if I am going to die, I had better have a grave ready.”

So he set to work, and soon scraped out for himself a shallow grave in the soft soil. As soon as it was ready, he lay down in it and resigned himself to death.

A few minutes later one of the King’s Servants, who happened to be passing by carrying an earthen jar full of oil for the King’s palace, noticed the Boy lying on his back in the shallow grave, so he stopped and asked him what he was doing. The Boy replied:

“The soles of my feet are turning yellow, and that, as you know, is a sure sign that I am going to die; so I have prepared myself a grave, and am just waiting here till death comes.”

“Oh, nonsense!” replied the Servant; “you could not talk like that if you were really dying. Come, get up, and help me to carry this jar of oil for the King, and I will give you a hen for yourself.”

So the foolish Boy got up out of his grave, and taking the jar of oil on his back, he walked along the road with the King’s Servant towards the palace. As they went along, he kept thinking to himself what he should do with his hen when he got it.

“As soon as I have got some eggs,” thought he to himself, “I shall set the hen to hatch them. And then I shall have a nice lot of chickens. And when the chickens grow up into cocks and hens I shall sell them in the market. And with the money I get I shall buy a cow. And presently the cow will have a calf. And when the calf grows big I shall sell both the cow and the calf. And with the money I get I shall buy a nice little house. And when I have settled down in my house I shall marry a wife. And after a time we shall have a child. And as the child grows big I shall have to take its education in hand. And I shall be very firm and judicious with it. And if it is a good child and does what I tell it, I shall be very kind to it. And if it is naughty and does not do what it is told, I shall be very stern and stamp my foot, so!”

And thus thinking he stamped his foot so violently that the jar of oil slipped off his back and was smashed to pieces on the ground. When he saw this, the King’s Servant became very angry, and asked him what on earth he meant by stamping his foot like that, and breaking a valuable jar of oil, which was intended for the King. The Boy tried to explain how it occurred, but the Servant would not listen, and dragged him off by force into the King’s presence.