Chapter II: Part 2

“_Imam._”—From the Arabic, a leader in religious affairs; a priest of the Mahomedan faith; answers to “Mullah,” or “Mulwanah.” In the district round about Ghazi, and in other parts of India, the “Imam,” or “Mullah,” performs many religious offices. He often calls to prayer as a “Muezzin,” from the Arabic word “Izn,” and generally this is done from a minaret of the Mosque. After prayers, where with his face to Mecca he leads the worshippers, he collects the boys of the village and teaches them the Koran. He also bathes and washes the deceased male members of the faith, and prepares the body for burial, and puts on the “Kuffun,” or shroud. This Kuffun or shroud consists of three pieces of cloth if for a man, and five if for a woman, and must be white. After shrouding the body, they tie one band above the head, a second below the feet, and a third about the chest. He is present at all marriages, or “Nikahs.”

“_Pulāo._”—From a Persian word, and means a kind of sweet pudding of meat with flour, ghee, and sugar, and sometimes raisins mixed with it.

“_Parata._”—Or “Parātha,” a kind of bread or cake made from wheaten flour mixed with butter or ghee, and of several layers like pie-crust, and put on a griddle over a slow fire.

“_Moslem Grave._”—This is dug down for about five feet or so, north and south. For a woman the depth should be to the height of a man’s chest, if for a man to the height of the waist. At the base a recess is cut out from the soil for the reception of the body, which is laid on its back, and the head is so turned as to be facing Mecca. In ordinary soils after the body has been put in the recess, slates or stones are placed to prevent the filled-in soil from coming in contact with the body. If the soil is sandy it is kept up by the use of chatties, or earthenware vessels, in lieu of slates or stones. There is always a stone placed on the surface at head and foot, to indicate the position of the body. These are called “Moonee.” The grave of a female is indicated by a third stone, placed between the others.

In the Ghazi district some of these head-stones are very high, often of five or six feet in height, and of slate, which is readily obtained in the neighbourhood.

On some of these slates used as tombstones it is customary to delineate over the graves of important Mahomedan personages, and known to have been devout men, sketches of the Rosary, or “Thusbee,” the goblet, or “Kooza,” and the tooth-stick, or “Miswak.” This stick, used as a dentifrice, is made here from the root of the “Pilvo” tree. In the village of “Kazeepur,” the names of the deceased are sometimes painted on the slates.[2]

Footnote 2:

Some people make various kinds of niches for lamps near the head of
the grave called Churagdān.

Generally the graveyards of the Mussulmen are near the road-side, that the deceased may receive the benefit of the “Dua Khair,” or solemn prayers of devout passers-by.

_Note._—Kazeepur has its local sayings also. Once a very devout man, and a born poet, visited this village and also that of Ghazi; his name was “Peeloh,” and it is currently said that before he quitted the district he ascended the Gundghur Hills, opposite to Harripur, and left the following lines with one of the bards of the village.

Peeloh! cheriya Gundgurh thay
Kias kureh khalo
Agê vagê Sinde Rani
Pichê vagê Haro.
Chach binah Summundur dhay
Jo gudhê soho
Dhunnie gurray Rungaree
Bhummy baithê ro.

TRANSLATION.

Peeloh ascended the Hills of Gundgurh
Was wrapped in deepest thought.
Before him was the Indus,
Behind him the Haro.
The plains of Chach like a sea are there
Where to plant ’tis sure to sprout,
But to sow your field in the soil of Dhunnie
You may well sit by its side and weep.

Another of their poets, a Pathan, and a man of “Huzro,” beholding Cashmere from the Mountains and the vale of the country stretched out before him, burst, it is said, into the following stanzas:

Kashmere to ajub ja hai
Juthay âp Khudâ râza hai
Kea kishtee! kea howa hai
Yek seir hai Huzrut “Bul” key
Vo tâkht-l-Suleemâni
Kashmere ka thanda pâni.

TRANSLATION.

Cashmere is a wonderful place
Where even God finds pleasure.
Behold the boats! and how sublime is the air!
One excursion is to the Shrine of Huzrut “Bul,”
Another to the Mountain, the “Throne of Solomon.”
Cashmere too! how cool and refreshing is your water!

“_Musjid._”—The word is Arabic and from the root Sijdah, to bow; musjid, place of bowing; in the original a corrupted pronounciation is used, as “musseeth.”

_Note (see “Imam”)._—The natives of the district have a rather pithy saying when referring to an incompetent Imam, or Mullah.

Neem Mullâhn Kuthray iman,
Neem Hakeem Kuthray ijan.

TRANSLATION.

Half a Priest endangers your salvation;
Half a Doctor imperils your life.

“_Miserly._”—-The word for miser is in the original “Shūm,” an Arabic word. Misers are held in great detestation by the people, and they have many sayings about them. One is the soliloquy of a stingy man to a copper coin which he had held tightly in his hand on a hot day until a drop of perspiration fell from it.

Paisa ne rô
Merah pallay buddhay rô
Mungee, pinnee, Khansâhn
Thookee, na kurchay sânh.

TRANSLATION.

Weep not! my beloved Pice!
You shall not leave the hem of my garment.
I will ask, I will beg, and thus maintain my lot,
And never suffer you to be paid away.

Stories of misers are to be found in every country, and in Chinese Folk-lore it is told of a mean and stingy king that in peace time he caused his cavalry to dismount, that their horses might be used in the Government mills. War came; the horses were returned to the men, but they kept to their habit, and still persisted in going in a circle.—_Dennys._

There is a saying also amongst the Punjabis that all misers are wretched, and collect money only for others to enjoy. They tell a tale of a miser who was once visited by some friends, and he advanced to meet them, and said:

“Aoo bow sujjeenâh
Ghur bar Toomhâhrâ
Khur. Peeoh apnâh
Burthun Khumbiarrâh
Rul mil Charreeay ‘Kicheree,’
Purr ‘Ghee’ Toomhâhrâ
Heeahn juggâh tung hai
Bâhair Thakur Dhivarrâh.”

TRANSLATION.

“Come in; pray sit down, my friends,
The house and all its contents are yours.
You must, however, provide your own meats and drinks,
and perhaps we’ll share in making some ‘Kicheree,’
though you must contribute the Ghee.
See how narrow, too, my home is, so let us adjourn
outside to the enclosure of the Idol house, where
you can do all the cooking for me.”

_Note._—The Rosary[3] is, as has been said, (remarked under “Moslem grave,”) called a “Thusbee” by the Mahomedans; it is also called “Mâllânh” by the Hindus. The aimless counting and turning over of the beads by some is thus denounced by the people of the district:

Footnote 3:

The name comes from the Latin word “Rosarium,” a garden or chaplet of
roses.

Dhil dhâ minkâh aik nâh sattaynn
Thay gyn sattaynn panj Veeânh.

You turn not one of the beads of your heart, though you
repeat Five score of them on your rosary.

_Note._—It may not be generally known that the “Thusbee” or Rosary consists of 100 beads separated by a long bead called “Shumshah” (from the Arabic, meaning “tassels” on a rosary) over which there are ten beads called “Shummâr” (from the Persian, meaning “counting”). When one round of prayers is completed a special short prayer is often added, or the name of Allah is repeated on it one thousand times.

At the completion of the 100 beads, one bead is separated on the Shummâr, and so on each time, in order to count the 1,000 epithets of Allah if it should be so desired. To comprehend the mystic sound of the beads are matters of “Marifat,” or knowledge of Allah!

The beads are made mostly from the “Kaoo” wood, or wild olive, which in some places is called “Zythoon.” Walking sticks are often made of it. There are, however, beads made from the sacred clay found near Mecca and called “Khaka sharreef”; some are also made of glass or agates. Some prefer to have coloured glass beads after every 33 of the wooden beads. In early times frequently almonds and nuts were used for counting.

The Mâllânh of the Hindus consists of 108 beads, independent of one at the top called “Sumer.” As in the Hindu Ghastra there are 108 special letters, 54 of which are written upright and 54 downward, so this number has been fixed for the Mâllânh. The top bead is to indicate the completion of the 108. The special worshippers of “Krishna” (the eighth incarnation of Vishnu) have rosaries made from the “Tulsi” wood (O’cymum Sanctum or Holy Basil). Tulsi was a nymph beloved by Krishna, and by him metamorphosed into this plant. The wood is held in high veneration by all Hindus. Much of this wood comes from Mathra, India. The large bead in a Hindu rosary called a “Sumeru” after a high mountain, on the summit of which is supposed to reside the Hindu deities of Vishnu, Siva, and several others of lesser note. This bead remains fixed in the hand, and is not turned over in counting.

The Brahmins, when they repeat their prayers on a rosary, designate them under the term “Gayathri,” the mother of the Vedas, and of which there are five, according to the number of the principal deities. Gayathri is a form of metre, and is repeated inaudibly in the daily morning worship of the Brahmins.

“_Nikah._”—This is the name given to marriages amongst Moslems, as “Nikah namah” is the marriage certificate.

The Nikah is the form of words used by the Kazi or Priest, and the Shadi or rejoicings are additional at the will of the relatives. Nikah is the binding ceremony, and Shadi is considered a more respectable form, and is attended with rejoicings,

Nikah is an Arabic word, and Shadi a Persian, meaning pleasure and delight.

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THE KING’S SON, HIS FRIEND, AND THE FAKIR.

In another Hûjra in the village of “Thuvee,” on the left bank of the Indus, the young men of the place had collected one day, as was their custom, when one of their number called for a tale, and very shortly the well-known narrator of the village began by saying: There was once a great King, a very great King, an earthly King, for this great King has gone to his dust long ago, but the greatest King of all is above. The King I am going to tell you about lived in ancient times, and he looked after his country very well, and had about him some clever Ministers, but he was not happy in his home. He had two sons, the younger being very fair and good-looking, and the King had them trained in all manner of learning that they might succeed him in the kingdom.

Unfortunately, this younger son became at times very riotous, and offended his father on many occasions, and though only a youth he became so disobedient and troublesome that his father decided on banishing him from his Palace. One morning when the son arose he found that his shoes were “apoota,” or turned the wrong way, so he knew from that, that he was to be turned away from home.

At a loss to know what to do, he went to his best friend and told him what had happened, and after consulting together they said, “We must at once fly this country, and seek our fortune in another country.” So providing themselves with money and horses and provisions for a few days, they mounted their horses and set off on their journey, not knowing where to go. They took the high road for some miles, and then, lest they might be pursued, they struck off into the jungles, and night coming on they picketed their horses under a tree and slept up the tree themselves for fear of wild beasts. This they continued to do for several nights, wandering through the jungles in the daytime. One evening they noticed at some little distance what they thought to be smoke, so they pushed on in the hope of finding some assistance and welcome in the dreary woods of the forest.

All of a sudden they came upon a hut surrounded with trees and brushwood, and hearing no sound they thought that it had been deserted, but listening very attentively they overheard the groans of a man as if in pain. Dismounting, they opened the little door of the hut, and there they saw a very old Fakir, bent almost double, and like to a bundle of rags, and lying on a sort of raised place in the corner. “Arrah! Kaun hai?” he called out, which means “Who is there?” They then told him that they were benighted in the jungles, had consumed all their food for themselves and their horses, and were about to seek their fortune in the King’s country which was somewhere here-about, they thought. “Can you please give us first some food, and then point us out the way to the King’s country?” Upon this the old Fakir scrambled off his bed place, and by the light of the small fire he looked at them very narrowly, and at last he said to the King’s son, “Bucha (son), I will see what I can do for you.” Presently he went a little distance outside his hut and blew a sort of whistle, and in less than no time a whole troop of Lungoors (large monkeys) came hurriedly down from the trees, chattering amongst themselves, and looking up into his face. “Go! ten of you, at once,” he said, “to the nearest village, loot it, and bring food for these travellers and corn for their horses.” Without more ado, off went a party of them in great haste, and in a very short space of time back they came with food and corn, and put it down at the feet of the Fakir, who seemed to speak a word of encouragement, and they departed.

After feeding their horses and refreshing themselves with a little food the travellers were about to take their leave of the old Fakir, and trust themselves again to their wanderings, when the Fakir said “No! you must not go without protection.” So saying, he gave another whistle, and more “Lungoors” came, and detaching about twenty of them he told them to go before the travellers and to put them on the high road leading to the King’s country, and then slightly raising his voice he said, “And mind you do not go beyond your boundary.”

Taking a kindly leave of the Fakir, the travellers left the hut, guarded with this escort of “Lungoors,” who, first on the ground, and then on the trees in front, seemed to point out to them a way through the jungles. After they had threaded their way for a considerable distance, until it was about the dawn of the morning, the “Lungoors” began to pause, and then all of a sudden they came to a dead stop, so the travellers knew that they must have come as far as their boundary.

Shortly afterwards they heard a great stampede amongst the trees, and all their “Lungoors” dispersed in an instant; then there seemed to be a great fight going on amongst them everywhere about, and screams of the most unearthly nature, such as they had never heard in their lives before. Morning then coming on, they pressed their steeds towards an opening in the jungle, and soon reached the high road. And so, on they went at an easy pace until they saw in the distance the walls and smoke of a great city, and the towers of a great palace. Arriving at the gates they went in, and proceeded at once to the Palace, and asked to be taken into the Royal presence. Ere long they were ushered before the King, and narrated their adventures, which both interested and amused him very much.

The King was pleased to give them service under him, and they remained at his Court for some years. Not receiving any news of their own country, they obtained leave from the King to visit it.

Upon their return thither, they went at once in some fear to the Palace, expecting that the anger of the King might still be poured out upon them; but when they told their story the King received them back into favour, and gave to his son an office in the State, and promoted the friend who had been his companion through their travels.

The son then bethought him of doing something in return to the kind old Fakir who had befriended them in the jungles, and he sent a party to persuade him to come to the Palace to live near him. The Fakir declined to leave his hut, so the party returned. At last the King’s son went himself, and took with him a Palkee, or covered carriage, and brought off the Fakir to his Palace. He gave him a beautiful room, with Persian carpets on the floor, and all other luxuries, and hoped that he might spend the few more years he might have to live, in every possible comfort. But the old Fakir felt everything very distasteful to him, and the more the King’s son tried to make him at his ease, the more distressed the old man became, so that in the end the Prince had to allow him to return to his hut in the jungle where he had spent nearly all his life, with the “Lungoors” as his friends.

In course of time the news was brought to the King’s son that the old Fakir was dead, so he and his friend had him conveyed to the city, where he was buried in great pomp; and afterwards a noble Shrine was erected to his memory, and a yearly visit was ever afterwards paid to it by the King’s son and his devoted friend.

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EXPLANATORY NOTES.

“_Apoota._”—Possibly from the Hindustani word “poot,” meaning upside down, inverted, or from the Sanscrit word “Apoot,” meaning an undutiful son. The son’s shoes, which he left the night before as he withdrew his feet from them, were found by him the next morning turned round, an understood custom to indicate dismissal, or banishment.

“_Bucha._”—A Persian word, signifying son, or child, and often used as a term of affection from old to young.

“_Lungoor._”—The word is Sanscrit and means baboon, but baboons generally inhabit Africa, but there is a Bengal Langūr (Presbitis entellus) and to these large monkeys the tale would no doubt refer. Monkeys play an important part in many folk-tales, and naturally so, for they are held in high respect by all Hindus, and indeed are objects of worship by most of that faith. “Hanuman” is the name of the “monkey god” of the Ramayana, who assisted Rama in his campaign against the giant Ravana to recover Sita. (See Crooke’s “Popular Religion and Folk-lore of Northern India.”) It is a belief with many that they were once human beings, and that they refrain from using the voice of man lest they should be compelled to work. In Northern India these “Lungoors” are called “Ghunee.” The story is told of a “Gujuri,” or milk seller, that she got married and left her own village. After some time, by an adroit habit of adding half water to her milk, she put together a good sum of money. The husband died, so she determined to return to her village, and she put her rupees in a bag, or what is called a “humyāni” (made of cloth or netting, and arranged to tie round the waist). Passing through the town of Ajudhya, where is a great Shrine to the monkey god Hanuman, and where many monkeys live in the trees that overhang the tank near the Shrine, she made up her mind to bathe in the holy water. Divesting herself of her clothes, she placed them on the bank, and the “humyani” she hid beneath them. Occupied with her bathing and praying, she did not perceive that the monkeys had come down, and were overhauling her garments. At last to her surprise and regret, she saw her “humyani” in the hands of a big monkey, and that he was off up the trees with it. “Oh Hanuman! Oh Hanuman!” she besought him, “restore to me my money.” But there he was, opening the bag, and soon he threw down one rupee to her on the bank, and the next rupee into the water, and thus he continued to do until he had emptied the bag. Then he called out, “See! I have given you the half for your milk, and the other half has gone to the water, to which it rightly belongs, and not to you.”

Hanuman is a Hindu deity, and said to be a son of Siva. He is set up in temples, and supplicated on birth-days to obtain longevity.

_Note._—Monkeys, we know, chatter and gibber, and are celebrated for tricks. A voice is produced by most mammals, birds, and reptiles, by which they make known their wants and feelings; but to speak with the human voice by imitation merely, is given only to birds, and to very few of those. The power of the lower creation to speak and to understand the human language passes, however, through the folk-tales of every country. On the hill Jako, near Simla, it is well known that the Monkeys are fed by a Fakir, who has taken up his abode amongst them, and they come down in troops at his well known call. (See page 114, Royal Natural History, edited by Richard Lydekker, F.G.S., F.Z.S., etc., etc.

“_Shrines._”—In many towns and villages there are shrines of celebrated Saints which are called “Chillas” and in some places “Astanas.” They are also termed “Karbala,” after the place where Hussain, the son of Ali, was killed and buried. Throughout the whole of India the common belief is that the spirit of their ancestors is, in some form or another, in many animals and birds, and that when they choose they can speak to man and understand what he says.

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SECUNDUR ZULF-KUR-NAIN.

Secundur (Alexander the Great) of curly locks like horns and fiery eyes, for such is the translation of Zulf-kur-nain, came to India, you know, a great many years ago.

He came to conquer, but his principal reason for leaving his country was in order that he might drink of the Ab-Hyātt, or Water of Life, which he had been told was to be found in the hills of India.

For a very long time he wandered about in Northern India, but could not discover any tidings about this Water of Life, till one day after conquering a special tribe of people, he demanded of them where the spring could be found.

They replied that they had heard about it as somewhere in the hills above where they resided, but that they had never been there, and they added that no one could get there, for that the spring could only be approached through a number of winding passages in the jungle, and there was the fear of never getting back, if even you could succeed in reaching it.

Secundur said to them, “Well then, cannot you tell me what I can do, for I have come all this way to drink of this water?” They replied they could only suggest to him that if he could procure a mare that had recently foaled, and could picket the foal at the entrance to the winding paths, he might ride the mare to the spring, and that she would be sure, from the love for her foal, to bring him safely back to the entrance.

This plan Secundur adopted, and eventually reached the spring from whence was bubbling up the Water of Life. He stooped down, and had taken up some of the water in his two hands joining them together like a cup, and was about to raise the water to his lips, when he heard a noise like _kurr! kurr!_ several times repeated, and looking up he saw a large Raven perched on a rock and shaking its head and crying out in a human voice, “Don’t drink! Don’t drink! Look at my piteous plight! See what a state I have come to by drinking this water; only a mass of skin and bone and not a feather left, and so I have been for many years, and shall never die!”

Upon hearing this Secundur threw back the water into the spring and cried out, “Ya! Nuseeb! Ya! Nuseeb! Oh, my fate! and so I am not to drink the Water of Life after all my efforts to do so. What shall I do? and I _must_ believe this Raven, the bird of fate and omen.”

Secundur then remounted the mare and retraced his steps, and as the villagers said, true enough she had no difficulty in wandering in and out amongst the paths till she came again to her foal.

He then returned to his camp, very sorrowful, and in order to relieve his mind he used to take long walks alone, and always dressed in the plainest garb.

He had gone a long distance from the camp when one day he met some villagers, and found out from them that there were two wonderful “Trees” near their village which had the magic power to answer questions put to them, and that their replies were always quite correct. They said, “But we must get old men to go with you, for they do not understand young men, nor do young men understand them,”

This they did, and when Secundur was approaching the “Trees” there was a voice heard, “Here comes Secundur! the great king Secundur!” Whereupon the villagers fell down at his feet to ask his pardon, for they had thought him all along as a common traveller.

Secundur at once allayed their fears and said, “Never mind! put to the ‘Trees’ the questions I ask you.” And he said, “Ask how long I have to live.” And the reply came, “Seven years!” “Ask again, How long it will take me to return to my country.” And the reply came again, “Seven years!” “Oh sorrow upon sorrow!” said Secundur: “It was not my “Kismut” (fate) to drink the Water of Life, and now it is not my “Kismut” to see again my mother, for I am sure to be delayed on my way back to my native land.”

Upon return to his camp he ordered that it should be moved the next day, and march in the direction of his own country. He had not made many marches when he came to a town, and the people came out to meet him, asking him to deliver them out of the hands of “Freebooters” who were continually raiding upon them.

Secundur remained with them for some time, and taught them how to build a wall round the town, but all this delayed him on his way back, as he thought it would.

Being still very sorrowful, he sent one day for two or three of his Ministers and said to them, “My home is yet a long way off, and who can tell whether I shall live to return to it? so I am going to give you a command, and you are to write down what I say; and should I die suddenly the letter which you shall write at my dictation, and which I will sign, and which you will keep, shall be at my death sent to my mother and delivered into her hands. Now write as follows:

“From your son Secundur:

“I am near dying, and have had this letter written to you and have signed it myself. It is the custom of this country that when a person dies in a family, cooked bread is always given away in charity to the poor, for it is supposed to do good to the deceased. Now, I am going to ask you when you hear of my death, only to give cooked bread in charity to those who have never lost a relation. Again, should you ever come to the place of my burial and call out, ‘Secundur, Zulf-kur-Nain,’ I will reply to you from my grave.”

Now the first request was so designed because Alexander knew that his mother could not find a family that had not to mourn some loss or other; and she would thus come to see that she was not alone in her grief, and that all human beings were afflicted with the death of relatives.

As the tale goes, said the narrator, Secundur did die, and was buried, and the letter was sent to his mother.

Just prior to his death, however, he called before him all his Ministers and said, “When you are carrying my corpse to the grave let all my troops of every arm of the force follow me, and outside of my shroud let one of my hands be placed with the palm uppermost.”

Of course in those days Ministers never said “No” to the commands of the King, so they all exclaimed, “Your commands, Sire, shall be obeyed!”

When they had come out from the Presence, however, they said one to another, “That is a singular command of the King! Whoever heard of troops following a dead General? We must really again go and enquire if these are his precise instructions.” But they feared to go all together, so deputed the favourite Minister to go into the Presence, who made his salaam, and repeating the King’s commands, asked if these were to be carried out.

“Send for them again,” said the King, “Send for all these ignorant Ministers!” When they came he taxed them with their want of sense and said, “Do you not see that by ordering all my troops to follow me to the grave I wanted to show to you and to all the world that ‘Secundur’ though he conquered with such troops, they could not save him from death; and by placing my hand out of the shroud, that you and all else might know that empty were my hands when I came into the world, and empty are they when I go out of it.” “Oh King!” said they all, “now we truly comprehend the meaning.”

This all happened just before he died, and everything was done as the King commanded; and the letter was given into the hands of a Minister to convey to the mother, as I told you.

Upon receiving the letter the mother, though borne down with her great sorrow, did not long delay before she set out to visit the grave of her son. Now there were many graves and many tombs in the graveyard, and she wandered up and down for a long time, calling out, “Secundur! Oh my Secundur! my beloved Secundur!” but no reply came from any of the tombs.

Then the thought crossed her mind that the letter had said that she was to call out, “Secundur Zulf-kur-Nain.” So this she did, and was at once replied to by her son who said, “Did I not tell you to call out” Secundur Zulf-kur-Nain’ for there are many Secundurs here?” “Yes, alas!” she replied, and the voice then ceased to speak, and though she waited it never spoke again.

Now the design of Secundur by this, was also to give his mother another reason for pacifying her grief in knowing that there were many “Secundurs” who had died and had been buried, and that she was not the only mother in the world who had lost a Secundur.

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EXPLANATORY NOTES.

“_Zulf-kur-Nain._”—A compound of the two words “Zulf” and “Kernain.” The first in Persian represents a curl, and the latter is from the Arabic word “Kernai,” a horn. It is supposed that “Secundur” or Alexander the Great had two curls on his forehead like horns, so he was given the surname of “He of the two Horns.” (_See Hughes._)

“_Ab-Hyātt._”—-Ab, Persian for water; Hyātt, Arabic for life. The incident of Alexander’s search for the Water of Life is referred to by Crooke in these words: “According to the ‘Sikandar-Nama’ (written A.D. 1200 by Abu-Mahomed) Kwaja Khizr was a saint of Islam who presided over the well of immortality, and directed Alexander of Macedon in his vain search for the blessed waters. The fish is his vehicle, and hence its image is painted over the doors of both Hindus and Mahomedans, while it became the family crest of the late Royal House of Oudh.” As to Alexander, it is generally the result of a great name to be enshrined in fables, and as it has been said, to become the basis of mythopœic fiction as in this tale.

“_Raven._”—The word used for this bird by the narrator was Dhur-Kōwa; Kōwa, literally meaning a crow, answering to the word Kawwâ in Hindustani.

The natives of the district draw a great contrast between the raven and the crow. With them the former is an emblem of greed and rapacity; the latter, of quickness and cunning. They hold the raven to be a bird of ill omen, and are not singular in their belief. In some of our own country-sides they are said to forbode death.

“The boding _raven_ on her cottage sat
And with hoarse croakings warned us of our fate,”—_Gay._

The raven is often, in the legends of other countries, referred to as a bird which causes disappointment. Apollo sent a raven on a message, but he perched on a fig-tree and there waited until the fruit was ripe. There is also the memorable instance recorded in Holy Writ of the Raven sent out from the Ark. There are traditions too, about other birds, but that which is considered the most ominous is the “Ghoo Ghoo” owl, Ghoo Ghoo being the Hindustani word for this peculiar owl, whose sound is dreaded as a devil-bird. Of the smaller owls they have no such fear.

_Note._—There is a native saying in the district in regard to the habits of the crow, which may _appear_ to be asleep, but is ever on the alert.

Kânh kirrar khutâh dhâh
Vyssâh nah karreeay sathrydhâh

TRANSLATION.

Put little trust in a sleeping crow, a bunniah, or a dog; their eyes
are open though they appear to sleep.

It is as well to add here under this tale of “Secundur” the words they apply to the uncertainty of his great life.

Saddhânh nâh Baghay “Bulbul” bolaynh
Saddhânh nâh Bâgh Baharânh
Saddhânh nâh Raj khusheedhâ hondhâh
Saddhânh nâh Mujlio Tarrânh.

TRANSLATION.

For ever the Bulbul in the garden warbles not;
For ever the garden is not green and flourishing;
For ever kings do not reign in unalloyed happiness;
For ever friends each other’s society enjoy not.

_Note as to owl omens._—Certain physical infirmities in man are reckoned inauspicious, and forbode evil, such as to be blind of one eye. It is very unlucky to look at a one-eyed man, and even if he should be in a high position, as was the case a long while ago with a celebrated chieftain in the North of India, he does not escape a sneer.

When he put an increased tax on the weavers, it is said they taunted him in the following rhyme:

Jowahur Singh kanah Thray rupeea khuddee. Panj rupeea tana

TRANSLATION.

Jowahur Singh, the one-eyed man, Fixes a tax of three rupees on the hole we sit in, and five rupees on the warp besides.

Again, they have a saying as to those to be avoided:

Kurria Brâhman
Gorâ Soodh
Kotay gurduniah
Kunjah Rajpoot.

TRANSLATION.

A black Brahmin,
A fair-coloured Soodh (Soodhra, or low caste)
A short-necked person
A blue or grey-eyed Rajpoot.

There are many other evil omens too numerous to mention; such as, meeting a corpse being carried to burial; an oil seller; or a woman with an empty water-pot; a crow sitting on a dry tree with no water near. The reverse of the picture is lucky; so it would be a piece of good fortune to see a crow sitting on a tree near where there _was_ water.

With some Hindus it is unfortunate when setting out on a journey for one of the party to sneeze, and they generally get down for a while until the evil spell, supposed to be from an evil bird is believed to be over. Men of the sweeper caste are often called “Kal-jibha,” or black-tongued, and whose curses always prevail.

“_Trees._”—There is a universal belief amongst Hindus that in most trees certain spirits take up their abode, and that to destroy a tree is to disturb the spirits, who have to be appeased by offerings of grain and oil to keep off evil consequences to the village.

There are certain special trees in addition to the two oracular trees of Alexander, called by the natives Mather and Emaüsae, notably the Ficus religiosa, or “Pepul” tree, towards which their veneration shews itself in devotional acts which may be termed “Tree worship.” In the Hazara and other districts it is not an uncommon thing to see small hollow shrines placed beneath this particular class of tree, containing a small lamp, and sprinkled over with yellow ochre and oil, while the tree itself is encircled by a white thread.

One such tree was planted years ago in the jail for Indian transports at Singapore; the charge of which was for years under Major M^cNair, one of the authors of this volume. It was called by the Hindus “Aswatha,” and it was currently believed that it spoke and sang through the points of its heart-shaped leaves. They looked upon it as the abode of their principal deities.

The “Tulsi” shrub, or “Holy basil,” as before said, is also held in great veneration, and has over and over again formed the subject of verse. Here is one example:

Tulsi birwa bagh men
Seencht hay komlahay
Rahê bhurlosa Ram kay
Purbuth pur hurriayi.

TRANSLATION.

The Tulsi tree that grows in the garden
Droops even when well watered;
But where it grows dependent only on God,
There, even on mountain tops, it is green and fresh.

The famous fabulous tree, “Pari Jatamu,” which one reads of in the Puranas, (old Sanscrit records,) a sort of jasmine; and the Vata fig-tree of “Orissa,” were said to be endowed with knowledge and speech like the oak of Dodona. By approaching them in a respectful manner you obtain from them knowledge, riches, and everything you can wish for, but they are difficult of access.—_Wilford._

_Note._—In many parts of India it is well known that to make an offering to a deity offended, and to pacify his wrath, five twigs of the following sacred trees are put into a jar of water and invoked.

1. Aswatha (Ficus religiosa).
2. Vata (Ficus Indica).
3. Adumbar (Ficus glomerata).
4. Sami (Mimosa albida).
5. Amra (Mango) (Spondias Mangifera).

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THE FARMER, THE CROCODILE, AND THE JACKAL.

There was once a wily old Crocodile who dwelt in a tank hard by a village, and he was sometimes so ferocious that he would seize children who used to go for water there, then drown and eat them. He had become, in fact, the terror of the place.

One year there was a very great drought, and the tank by degrees began to dry up, and at last it got quite dry, and the Crocodile was to be seen grilling and roasting in the sun.

He used to call out to the passers-by, “Oh! pray take pity upon me and shew me where I can go for water, for I am dying in this heat.” “No, indeed!” they all said; “we are glad to see you suffering, for have you not often made us suffer by taking our goats, and sometimes even our children? We shall not help you in any way.”

At last an old man passed by, and the Crocodile appealed to him, and at first he replied as the others did, but afterwards he relented and said, “Well, if you will follow me I will take you to a tank which is never dry.” So the Crocodile followed him, and he shewed him a tank no great distance off, which was filled with water.

The old man went first into the tank himself, and calling to the Crocodile, he said, “See here, how deep it is!” No sooner had the Crocodile had a good drink, than he made a grab at the old man’s leg. “Ah-ho! Ah-ho!” said the old man; “What are you doing? What are you doing?” “Well,” replied the Crocodile, “I have had a good drink, thanks to you, and as I have had no food for many days I am going to make a meal of you. That is what I am going to do.” “You wretched and ungrateful brute!” said the old man; “is this the way you reward me?”

At that moment a Jackal hove in sight, coming for a drink (the Jackals we know are the most cunning of all animals), and the old man said, “I will put my case before him, and if he says you are to eat me, very good, so you shall.”

The old man then beckoned to the Jackal to come close up to the tank, and telling him all the facts of the case, the Jackal said, “You know I am always a just judge, and if you want me to decide, you must shew me the place from whence you brought the Crocodile.”

So they all three wended their way back to the tank near the village, and the Jackal said, “Shew me the exact spot where you first found the Crocodile;” and when they got there the Jackal said, “Now I am going to give you my judgment, so prepare to listen.” Then turning to the old man, he said quietly, “You silly old idiot! What made you ever help a Crocodile? Now, you run one way, and I will run the other.”

The Jackal gave a skip, and was soon off out of sight, and the old man took to his heels also, and soon got away. The wily old Crocodile, now baulked of his prey, said to himself, “I know my way back to that water tank, and I will some day have my revenge on that Jackal, for he is sure to come there to lap water.”

So back he went, and as there were many trees near the tank, some of whose roots went beneath the water, the Crocodile lay in ambush there. By-and-by the Jackal came to drink water, and the Crocodile made a sudden snap at his leg, and held it. “Oh, you foolish Crocodile!” the Jackal said; “You think you have got hold of my leg, do you? but it is only the root of a tree.” So saying, the Crocodile released his hold, and the Jackal jumped off in high glee out of his reach.

The Crocodile then determined that he would try some other plan of entrapping him; so, as there were great numbers of a small fruit falling from one of the trees, which he knew the Jackal came to eat, he one night piled up a heap and hid himself beneath it, leaving only his eyes uncovered.

Presently the Jackal came prowling along, and noticing the pile of fruit he felt inclined to partake of some, but he drew near very cautiously, and in a moment he caught sight of the two eyes of the Crocodile glistening in the moon-light, when he called out, “Oh, I see you!” and scampered off.

After this, the Crocodile saw that it was no use to try himself to catch the Jackal, “for,” said he, “he is too cunning for me; I must employ someone who comes to get water here.” So one day he saw a Farmer, and said to him, “If you will catch a Jackal for me, I will make you a rich man, for I will give you several jewels which people have dropped in this tank for years and years, and they are lying here at the bottom.”

“Oh!” replied the Farmer, “that is easily done;” so that very night he went into the jungle and lay down as if dead. Presently the Jackal made his appearance, and smelling along he came close up to the body. Then he hesitated and said, “I wonder if this is really a dead body or not.” He then called out audibly, “If it is really dead it will shake its leg, and if it is alive it won’t do so.” This he said so quickly and so artfully that the Farmer was taken aback, and to make him believe he _was_ dead he at once stupidly shook his leg, and off skipped the Jackal, saying, “I caught you there,” and was lost to view in an instant.

The Farmer, who was very avaricious, and wanted the jewels badly, made up his mind that he would by hook or by crook make sure of the Jackal on the next occasion; so this time he prepared of the softest wax a doll of the size of a child, and digging a small grave and covering it over with leaves and mud, he waited in hiding to see the result.

Shortly after sunset the Jackal began to prowl about as usual, and coming on the new grave he said to himself, “Ah! this is someone lately buried; I will try my luck here.” He then began to scratch with his paw, and presently one paw got caught in the wax, and in trying to get that away, all four became stuck with the wax, when in a moment out came the Farmer from his hiding-place and said, “Ah! at last I have got you, and you are my prisoner!” The Jackal yelled and howled, and endeavoured to escape, but was hindered by the wax on his feet; so then he took to frightening the Farmer, and said, “If you do not get me out of this scrape I will call all the Jackals in a moment of time, and they will destroy you for ever, for do you not know that I am the ‘king’ of the Jackals?”

“What am I to do?” asked the Farmer. “Go!” he said; “go and get some oil, and rub it all over me; then get a fowl, and tie it about fifty yards away, and bring two men with hatchets to stand over me, so that if I attempt to get away they may chop me to pieces!”

This being done by the Farmer, the Jackal while being held in his hands sought his opportunity, and being well greased all over, he made a violent spring and so got clear of the Farmer; then he dashed between the legs of the men with hatchets, when they made a plunge at him, but they only succeeded in hurting their own legs, so the Jackal got finally off, and picking up the fowl he was soon lost to view, and so won the day.

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EXPLANATORY NOTES.

“_Crocodile._”—The word used in the original Punjabi was “Sainsar,” literally the “Gavial,” or rather “gharial.” This animal is called “Timsah” in Arabic, but as this class of the Crocodiles lives usually on fish, the saurian in the tale must have been unusually ferocious. The seizure of the leg of the Jackal by the Crocodile is common to many folk-tales throughout India, and is an indication of the general groundwork of many Aryan tales.

“_Jackal._”—So often described, it is not necessary to do more here than to refer to the fact that they usually hunt in packs. When a jackal is heard to cry without a response, the natives know that he is a lone animal and what they call “Yekaria,” and by some “yeklota,” meaning in Sanscrit “single.” This, with them, is an evil omen, and thugs and thieves give up their thoughts of plunder and pillage in the district where he is known to be.

Some of the people believe that in packs of jackals the one who gives the first cry is possessed of a small horn in his forehead, and this is termed by them “Seeâr Singhi,” (possibly from the Persian word “Seah” black, and “Singh” a Hindu title,) or the jackal’s horn. This so-called horn is much prized by the people, and is often mounted by them in silver and placed as a charm round the necks of their children. This forehead projection of the jackal is generally hawked about for sale by a low-caste set of people who are sellers also of certain oils, such as the porpoise, or “Sūs” oil, the pelican, or “Rak-ham” oil, which is in the Sanscrit language called “Gagun-bhir.” Crooke thinks that the “Seeâr Singhi” is a jungle plant which resembles a horn; others think it is really the velvety prominence from the deer, but is sold to the credulous as from the jackal.

Our saying of the “grapes are sour” is rendered by the people as the “grapes are bitter,” and the expression is used in connection with the jackal and not of the fox.

Dahkânh hâth nâh up ree
Thooay kouree.

TRANSLATION.

The grapes do not come within my reach,
So spit them out; they are bitter,

“_Tanks._”—In the Persian the word is “Talâb,” and in the original in Punjabi it is “Surr,” a Sanscrit word signifying a large pond or tank. A small tank in Punjabi is called a “Bunni.”

There is hardly a tank in India that is not more or less associated in the minds of the people with some legend, and many are held sacred to one or other of their titulary gods and goddesses.

Some tanks are supposed to contain treasure which is reserved under the custody of a Yaksha, or sprite.

—_Crooke._

In Hindu mythology “Yaksha” is an attendant upon “Kuvēra,” the god of wealth. The name is said to be derived from “Yaksha” to worship. As with the Brownies in Scotland they are called “Punya-jana” or good people, but they are sometimes imps of evil.

—_Williams’_ “Nala”; also _Dowson_.

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FAITH OPPOSED TO MAGIC.

There is a hill in the Hazara district of the Punjab known to all by the name of “Gundghur,” which in days gone by was a stronghold of Banditti. It was well elevated above the plain, and on its crest there were several projecting rocks, and there were caves among the rocks. In one of these caves dwelt a Hindu Fakir of the begging mendicant class, who had for a long time established himself there, and used to come out and sit on a large rock called “Pīr Thân.”

This Fakir had the reputation of being able to produce wonderful effects by the aid of his magic and enchantments, could cure serious diseases, and when he liked he would say his Ram! Ram! song; for Rama was among the avatara of Vishnu, and he would then ascend into the skies, and go completely out of sight.

Such a Fakir was in consequence much feared by the people of the place, and indeed in many villages round about. Most of the people living near the Hill were “Gujors,” or Mahomedan keepers of Cattle, and from whom the province of Gujerat was named, and it sometimes happened that their milk did not set properly; so they used to go to the Fakir who soon made everything right, and though he was a Hindu and they Mahomedans, yet they went to consult him.

It so happened that one day another Fakir, a Mahomedan, who was on his round visiting various shrines and the relics of departed Saints, came to this “Ghazi” village, which was situated at the foot of the hill.

It was not long before he was told by the people of the wonderful doings of the Hindu Fakir who dwelt on the “Pīr Thân”; how that he could cure all diseases, and above all, that he could by his magic go up into the air and depart out of sight.

“He is very good too,” they said, “to us, for when our milk refuses to set, he soon makes matters right for us, and so we are going to him to-morrow morning about this very thing.”

“You are! are you?” said the Mahomedan Fakir; and he was very angry with them and said, “Now you wait, and you will see that this very night your milk will be all as it should be.” True enough, when the morning broke the milk was properly set.

“Now,” said the Fakir, “why do you put your faith in this “pagan” and “idolater” who does not believe in Allah? And as for the stories you tell me, they are not to be credited, and what he does is by trickery and deceit.” With many other words he exhorted his followers not to be imposed upon. Turning to the Hindus he said, “If _you_ choose to ruin yourselves that is your affair and not mine.”