Chapter V: Part 5

As he reached the hill, he too heard the same hissing, shouting, and cries to stop; but he heeded nothing, until at last came the peal of thunder and earthquake, which so terrified him that he turned round to look, and he too was turned into stone.

At home his poor sister saw her flower fade away and die, and then she knew that her other brother had also come to an untimely end.

So she arose and locked her door, and said: "I will go myself and find my brothers."

On her way she met the same old Fakir, who accosted her, and asked her whither she was going.

He was much grieved when she told him her story, and said: "Brave men have lost their lives, and you, a woman, without half their strength, are going. I pray you be advised and return."

"No, no," she returned; "if men have lost their courage, I, a woman, shall not lose mine. I am very brave, and I mean to go."

So the Fakir bade her God-speed very sadly, and gave her the same parting gift as he had given her brothers, directing her what to do with it.

The first thing she did was to buy some cotton wool, and with it stop her ears, so that she could not hear a sound; then she proceeded on her journey up the hill.

The same sounds followed her all the way, but she heard them not, nor did she hear the thunder or heed the earthquake in her anxiety to find her brothers.

On and on went she, until she saw a cage hanging on a tree, and in it a bird. She took it with great joy, and said: "I have found my bird, and have only the music and water to get for my home to be perfect."

To her delight, the bird heard, and replied: "If you break off a branch of that tree and stick it into the ground, the breeze through its leaves will make the sweetest music you have ever heard; and if you will take a little water from that enchanted stream yonder, and pour it into your garden, it will never cease to flow. Thus you will have both music and stream."

The girl did as the bird advised, and heard the sweetest melody in the branch of the tree. Then she filled a vessel with water and prepared to return, but very sorrowfully, for she had found both her brothers turned into stone.

She told her trouble to the bird, who said: "Sprinkle some of the water on the stones."

This she did, and, to her great surprise, both the lads came to life.

They were delighted to see her, and to know that she had succeeded in finding the gifts they had failed to get; and the three returned home and lived very happily together for some time.

One day the two brothers thought they would like to go out hunting again.

Now they did not know that an order had been passed that nobody was to hunt in that forest except the Prince, and, while they were there, they came face to face with the Prince himself. This alarmed them, and they tried to hide themselves; but he called them, and enquired why they were hunting there against orders.

Then they explained that they were in ignorance of his orders when they came, and begged forgiveness.

The Prince, pleased at their appearance, enquired who they were, and they said: "The adopted sons of your gardener who died some time ago. Our own parents died when we were young."

Then the Prince invited them to his Palace, but they said they could go nowhere without first telling their sister.

"Well, ask your sister," said he, "and come to-morrow."

On the third day they met the Prince again, and he asked why they had not come; but they pleaded as an excuse that they had forgotten to ask their sister. The Prince then gave them a golden ball and said: "When you see this, you will remember."

That night as they were going to bed, the small golden ball rolled out on the floor, and seeing it, they remembered, and told their sister of the Prince's invitation.

She was very displeased with them for not having complied with it earlier; and told them that they must go and see him the very next day.

On the morrow the two boys went to the Palace, where the Prince received them very kindly, and gave them all sorts of good things to eat and drink, saying to himself: "Had I had children, they would by this time be the same ages as these lads."

One day, soon after this, the bird advised the sister of the boys to invite the Prince to dinner.

"How can I entertain so grand a man?" said she.

"Make him a dish of kheer (rice cooked with milk and sugar); and besides this, to please him, another dish of pearls."

"But where shall I get the pearls?"

"Send a man to dig beneath that tree, and you will find as many as you require," replied the bird.

So the girl did as she was told, and sent a man to dig. He soon found a box full of pearls, and these she placed in a very beautiful dish, and put it alongside the plate of kheer.

The Prince accepted the invitation to dinner, and came to the house.

After showing him all round, the girl led him at last to the room in which she had prepared dinner; and as her bird was also there, she told it to make a salaam to the Prince, which it did.

Then the first dish was uncovered, and the Prince knew that he could not eat it as it was made of pearls; but the bird spoke up and said: "O Prince! are you not yet able to understand the difference between pearls and dross? When your wife bore your children, you believed them to be dogs, cats, or rats, and turned out your poor wife, who was in reality the mother of these"--and she pointed to the two boys and their sister--"your own children, who were exchanged by their wicked aunts for a dog, a cat, a rat, and you believed them."

On hearing this, the Prince was astounded; and then the bird told him exactly all that had taken place.

Delighted to be once more united to his children, he sought his poor wife, and, throwing himself at her feet, besought her with tears to forgive him.

This she very gladly did, and returned with him to the Palace, where her children received her; and they were all very happy ever after.

The two wicked sisters were killed by order of the Prince.

THE DOG TEMPLE

About eleven miles from Raipur, near the village of Jagasar, is a temple built to the memory of a faithful dog of the Bunjara species, and this is the story of how it came to be built.

Many years ago a Bunjara Naik, or headman of the clan of Bunjaras, or wandering traders, owed money to a "Marwari," or money-lender at Raipur.

When pressed for payment, the Bunjara, who was then standing near the Marwari's shop, said: "Here is my gold necklace, and here is my faithful dog: keep both till I return to my camping-ground near Jagasar, and fetch you the money."

The necklace and dog were then left as security, and the man went his way.

That night the Marwari's shop was broken into by thieves, and many valuables stolen, among them the golden necklace; but, before the thieves could get clear away with their stolen property, the dog got up and barked and leaped about, and made so much noise that the Marwari and his men got up, caught the thieves, and recovered the property, which was of considerable worth.

The Marwari was very pleased, and out of gratitude for what the dog had done, determined to cancel and forgive the debt of his master, the Bunjara. So he wrote a paper to cancel it, tied it to the dog's neck and let it go, saying: "Carry the tidings to your owner."

Early next morning the dog trotted off, and was nearing the camping-ground which was his home, when the Bunjara saw him, and, very displeased, he took a stick and struck the poor dog across the head, saying: "You brute! you could not remain even twenty-four hours with the Marwari, though my honour was at stake."

The blow killed the dog on the spot, and as he fell, the Bunjara noticed the slip of paper round his neck, and, on reading it, found what joyful news his dog had brought to him. Not only was the debt forgiven, but the reason for it was also stated on the paper.

The grief of the Bunjara was great, for in spite of his hasty temper he loved his dog, as all Bunjaras do. He repented his hasty act, and wept most bitterly over his favourite, vowing that he would try and expiate the deed by building a temple to the faithful dog's memory with the money he had recovered.

The small temple now standing on the spot where this took place testifies to the fulfilment of that vow, and a small dog carved in stone indicates why the Dog Temple was built.

To this day it is deeply revered by all the villagers around, and the story of that faithful dog is often repeated to show how intelligent and true a dog can be.

THE BEAUTIFUL MILKMAID

At a place called Drug, near Raipur in the Central Provinces of India, there once lived an old woman who had a very beautiful daughter.

The old woman was most unwilling that her daughter should go out into the streets, for she said: "You are so beautiful, my daughter, that I tremble lest any one take you from me."

But the girl replied: "Mother, I must go and earn our daily food. Let me, I pray you, sell milk and curds as usual: no harm will come to me."

The mother very reluctantly let her go; but that day a Rajah happened to pass by and saw her. He noticed how beautiful she was, and stopped his elephant to ask who she was. She told him that she was of humble origin, and only a seller of milk and curds.

"Then," said the Rajah, "I shall buy all that you have."

"Nay," replied the girl; "surely what is mine is yours, and I offer everything in homage to you."

When she persisted in refusing payment the Rajah was angry, and ordered his attendants to scatter the curds, and put the girl into prison for daring to go against his wishes.

The order was obeyed, and the beautiful milkmaid found herself a prisoner.

While in prison she prayed to her Gods for deliverance, and fashioning a parrot out of clay, breathed life into it and told it to go quickly to her lover, a young man grazing his herds in the hills, and tell him what had happened.

The bird flew off and did as he was told; and the lover came down that night with all his clansmen, attacked the Rajah and killed him.

Then he rescued the girl, who lived happily ever after as the wife of her brave deliverer.

A REMEDY FOR SNAKE-BITE

There is in India a small state called Raghoghur, the Rajahs of which are said to possess the power of curing snake-bite, even though it be from the most deadly cobra or karait. This power has been handed down for centuries, and was firmly believed in during the year 1896, and even up to the present moment.

Every man bitten by a deadly snake in that place takes a bit of string, ties seven knots in it, and places it round his neck. As he goes along towards the Palace of the Rajah or Raghoghur, he keeps repeating "Jeth Singh," "Jeth Singh," "Jeth Singh," untying each knot while so doing.

Arrived at the Palace, he salutes the assembled courtiers, and in their presence undoes the last of the seven knots. This done, the Rajah pours water on the bite and on the man's hands. A Brahmin gives his blessing, and he returns to the village cured.

This power descends from father to son, and many are the wonderful cures reported from Raghoghur.

A LEGEND OF SARDANA

In a city called Sardana there once lived a man whose name was Simru. This man had great riches and lands, and also owned a place of worship.

He married a lady of Sardana, who was called "Begum."

After a few years of married life Simru died, and his wealthy widow gave alms and much money to the poor.

In the same city lived an oil dealer who also died, and the angels took him to Heaven and presented him before the Almighty.

"Who have you brought?" asked the Creator. "This man's days upon earth are not yet completed: take him back before his body is buried, and let his spirit re-possess his body; but in the city of Sardana you will find another man of the same name: bring him to me."

On leaving the Court of God, some former creditor of the oil dealer's, who had preceded him into the Unseen, recognised him, and laying hold of him, demanded the sum of five rupees which he had owed him during his lifetime.

The poor man being unable to pay this debt, the angels once more took him before the Almighty, who asked why they had returned.

The angels replied: "O God, there is a man here to whom this oil dealer owes five rupees, and he will not let us return until the debt is paid."

The Almighty enquired if this was true, and the oil dealer replied: "Yes, but I am a poor man, and not able to repay it."

Then the Almighty said: "In the city of Sardana lives a rich Begum; do you know her?"

"Yes, O King."

"Well, the Begum's treasury is here, and I will advance you five rupees out of it, if, when you return to earth, you promise faithfully to give it back to the Begum."

So the oil dealer gratefully took the loan, paid his debt, and returned with the angels to earth, where he arrived just too late to re-enter his body, which his friends had already taken away to prepare for burial. Watching his opportunity, he waited till they were otherwise engaged, and at once re-entered it; but when he sat up, and began to speak, his terrified friends and relations fled, thinking it was his ghost.

On this the oil dealer called out: "Do not fear, I am not a spirit; but God has released me, as my days upon earth are not yet fulfilled. The man who ought to have died is Kungra, the vegetable man; go and see whether he is dead or alive."

The friends, on going to the house of Kungra, found that he had just fallen from a wall and been killed on the spot; all his relations were wailing and lamenting his sudden end.

Thus everybody knew that the words of the old oil dealer were correct.

In the meantime, the oil dealer called his son, and said: "Son, when I went to Heaven I there met a man to whom I owed five rupees, and he caught me and would not let me return before I paid it, so the Almighty advanced me the money from the Begum's treasury in Heaven, and bade me give her back that amount on my return to earth. Therefore do I entreat you, my son, to come with me, and together we will visit the Begum, and give her five rupees."

So they took the money and went to the Begum's house.

"Who are you?" asked she.

The oil dealer then told her the whole story, ending with: "And now I come to return you the five rupees."

The Begum was very pleased, and, taking the money, she called her servants and ordered a further sum of one hundred rupees to be added to it. This money she spent on sweets, which were distributed amongst the poor.

Many years afterwards the good Begum of Sardana died, but her houses and lands are still in existence; nor does anybody living in that town forget the story of the oilman who died and lived again. [9]

THE STORY OF "BUNJARA TULLAO"

There is at a place in India called Agar, a tank or pond known as the "Bunjara Tullao," yet no Bunjara will ever drink water there.

Many years ago no pond existed in that spot, and in all the country round a water famine prevailed, and the poor were perishing for want of water.

A Fakir prophesied that if a man would kill his son and daughter as a sacrifice to the Gods, water would be found and last always.

That night a Bunjara slew his two children, and threw them into a deep hole.

In the morning when the sun shone and people woke up, lo! there was a large pond in place of the hole, and nothing was seen of the unfortunate children. Then the poor filled their chatties, and went away rejoicing.

It is said that sometimes the heads of a boy and girl were seen lifted out of the water, and that they held out their hands to passers-by; but because the peasants put mud into them, they discontinued the practice.

In the centre of the "Bunjara Tullao" is a shrine built in memory of its origin.

There is another such pond near the Sipri Bazaar, which remains clear and beautiful, notwithstanding the fact that hundreds of people bathe and wash in it.

The old "Guru" who lives there explains the reason for this.

"Many years ago one of the Gods selected the Sipri Bazaar tank for his bath, and ever since its waters have remained as clear as crystal."

Moral.--Thus there is a cause for everything in the world.

THE ANAR PARI, OR POMEGRANATE FAIRY

Once upon a time there was a King who had seven sons, all of whom were married but the youngest.

One day the Queen-mother spoke to her youngest son, and said: "Why are you not married? Do not the maidens of my Court please thee? Perhaps you want what you cannot get, and that is perfection, unless, indeed, you go and seek and marry the Anar Pari, who is the fairest of all fairies, and whose charms are traditional."

The Prince then and there registered a vow that he would not marry at all unless he found this pearl of great price, and forthwith started on his quest for her.

He put on his armour and five weapons of defence, mounted his favourite steed, and set forth.

He had proceeded a good distance when night fell, and he found himself in a forest near a small hut. Entering it, he found it was occupied by a holy Fakir.

The Fakir said: "My son, why have you come here? Where are you going? And are you not afraid of the wild animals which infest this forest?"

The Prince replied: "Holy Father, I am going on a long journey to try and find the Pomegranate Fairy, so that I may wed her."

"You are going a long way indeed," replied the Fakir; "but if you listen to what I tell you, your journey will not be in vain."

Next morning he called the young man, and told him that he was going to enchant him and turn him into a parrot, so that he might fly to the island on which the fairy was imprisoned, and guarded day and night by seven hundred dreadful dragons. He also told him that on the island he would find a pomegranate tree with three pomegranates on it, of which he was to pluck and bring away the middle one, for in it dwelt the fairy he was so anxious to find.

"But mind you," said the Fakir, "once you have plucked the pomegranate, you are not to wait an instant, or even turn to look back when the dragons come after you, for, if you once look back, all your efforts will be in vain, and you will be killed."

Then the young Prince was turned into a parrot and immediately flew off.

He flew and flew and flew, till he had crossed seven seas; and in the midst of the seventh sea, he at last spied an island in which was a most lovely garden, where grew an exquisite pomegranate tree, and on it three pomegranates, the centre one most beautiful to behold.

He plucked the fruit, and flew as fast as he could, but alas, the dragon who guarded the tree saw him, and called to the other dragons, who, with wild yells and terrifying noises, flew after him.

The young Prince in his flight unfortunately looked back to see where they were, and was immediately burnt to a cinder, and fell to the ground with the golden pomegranate which he had worked so hard to obtain.

The dragons came up and took away the fruit, but left the burnt body of the bird upon the ground.

The Fakir waited long for the return of the parrot, but as it did not come, he set out himself to find it. He was able to cross in safety by making his body invisible, and when he came to the island, the first thing he saw was the burnt body of the parrot lying in the garden.

So he took it up, breathed once more the breath of life into it, and let it go, saying: "Try once more, my son, but remember that I said: 'Look not back,' but fly to my hut for safety."

Thus saying, he disappeared; and the parrot, watching its chance, very silently approached the tree a second time, stole the fruit, and flew as fast as he could.

The dragons pursued, but he reached the hut in safety; and the old Fakir did not lose a moment, but turned him into a small fly, and then secreted the pomegranate on his person, and sat down.

Almost immediately the dragons also arrived, and said: "Where is the green parrot who stole the fruit?"

"Look and see," said the old Fakir. "I know not what you want; no green parrot is here, nor do I know where the pomegranate is that he took away."

Then he went on quietly counting his beads while the dragons searched everywhere; but at last, wearied out and finding nothing, they went away, feeling very angry at the loss of their fairy.

As soon as they had gone, the Fakir caused the Prince to resume his original form, and, handing him the pomegranate, said: "Go back to your Palace; and when you have got there, break the pomegranate, and out of it will step the most beautiful woman you have ever seen; take her to be your wife, and may luck go with you."

The young Prince then mounted his steed, and thanked the old Fakir for all his assistance.

As he neared his father's Palace he came to a well in a garden, and having tied his horse to a tree, he went and rested beside the well, and looked at the pomegranate.

"I think I will break it now, and see if a fairy comes out, for if I wait to do so in my father's house before all his courtiers, suppose no fairy appeared, I should be ashamed to death."

So saying, he broke it, and immediately a most lovely woman appeared, bright and dazzling as the sun itself. As soon as he beheld her, he was so entranced that he fell into a swoon. Then the fairy lifted his head very gently, and placing it on her knee, allowed him to sleep on.

While he slept a young woman of low caste came to draw water. Seeing the beautiful fairy, she enquired of her if the sleeping man was the King's youngest son, and if she was the Anar Pari whom he had gone to seek.

Hearing that this was so, she was filled with envy, and planned in her mind how she might take the life of the fairy. So she went up to her, and said: "O fairy, you are most beautiful, but I would be beautiful too if I had on your clothes: come, let us exchange our dresses (or sarees), and see how you look in my clothes."

The fairy did as she wished, and the young woman said: "Look how beautiful I am; let us go to the well and behold our reflections in the water to see which is the most beautiful."

The fairy bent forward to see herself, and, as she did so, the young woman pushed her so that she fell into the well and sank into the water.

Having done this, the wicked young woman woke up the Prince, saying: "Come, let us go to the King's Palace."

The Prince looked doubtfully at her, but, being still half asleep, and seeing that she wore the same dress as Anar Pari had on, he assented, believing his passing doubt to be unreasonable.

His arrival at the Palace was made an occasion for great rejoicings, and all were glad that he was at last happily married.

The new Princess would never allow him to leave her, for she feared that he might return to the well; but one day, unknown to her, he found his way there, and looking in, saw floating upon the water a most exquisite lotus lily of pure white, the most perfect flower he had ever seen.

He asked his servants to hook it out for him; but each time they tried to do so, the flower disappeared beneath the water. At last he tried himself to get it, and succeeded easily, for the lily floated towards the hook that he let down.

The Prince took the flower home and looked after it with the greatest care; but when his wife heard where it had come from, she went at night and, tearing it into several pieces, flung it out of the window.

As the broken fragments of the lotus touched the earth, they turned into a bed of mint which grew luxuriantly.

Some of this mint was earned into the King's kitchen, to be used for seasoning dishes; but as the cook began to fry it, a voice was heard from the frying pan, saying: "Here am I, the real Princess, being fried to death, while the wicked woman who threw me into the well has taken my place."

The cook when he heard this was afraid, and threw the mint into the garden again. As soon as it touched the ground it became a lovely creeper, which grew and grew until it gradually approached the bed-chamber of the Prince.

The false Princess when she saw it at once remembered how she had thrown the fragments of the lotus lily into the garden, and, fearing lest this might be an offshoot from it, she ordered her gardener to uproot the creeper and cut it down at once.

The gardener did so, but as he was removing it, the one and only fruit on the tree fell to the ground and rolled under a jessamine bush, where it remained in security.

The gardener's daughter, who came every morning to gather flowers from this bush to weave into garlands, accidentally noticed the fruit lying beneath it, picked it up, and carried it home.

As she entered the gardener's little hut, the fruit fell to the ground and broke open, and out of it stepped the lovely Anar Pari.

The good people of the house were filled with wonder and admiration to see so peerless a being in their humble cottage. They gave her shelter and fed her, the gardener's daughter loving her as a sister, and the gardener as a father.

One day, as the gardener's daughter sat weaving her garlands of jessamine for the King's Court, the fairy said: "Please allow me to make one too; and when it is ready, take it and put it on the neck of the youngest Prince."

So she made it; and when two garlands were completed they were taken to the Prince and Princess. The Princess noticed that the Prince's garland was made in wonderful fashion, and enquired who had made it. They told her that a very lovely woman living in the gardener's hut had made it, and, suspecting at once that this was Anar Pari come to life again, she thought of some plan by which she could destroy her.

The next day she feigned great illness and a very severe headache, which she declared nothing would cure but the placing of a heart of a young and beautiful girl on her forehead. She therefore begged for the heart of the girl who lived in the gardener's hut, and orders were given for her execution.

The gardener and his daughter wept most bitterly, and the executioners were feign to spare the life of so lovely a woman; yet they were obliged to fulfil their orders, so they led the girl to the place of execution.

Before they killed her she begged that her limbs might be scattered to the four winds, and her two eyes thrown upwards into space.

The executioners did as she desired, and her heart was sent to the wicked Princess.

As soon as Anar Pari's eyes were thrown into the air, they became a pair of love-birds and flew into the forest.

Many days after, the Prince went to hunt in the forest, and was resting himself under the trees when he heard two love-birds talking in the branches, and one was telling the other the story of her life. How she was once Anar Pari, a beautiful fairy, and how a wicked woman had enticed her away from the side of the Prince while he slept, and thrown her down a well, and how the woman was now reigning in her stead as Princess at the Palace.

The young Prince was amazed to hear all this, and looking up, cried: "I have at last found you. Come down and be my Fairy Princess once again."

Then two laughing, loving eyes appeared, and presently they were set in the form of a woman, and the Prince once again beheld the world-renowned form of Anar Pari.

They went together to the Palace, and there the Prince ordered the false Princess to be brought out, and told everybody present the story of her wickedness.

The sentence passed upon her was that she was to be buried alive near the well; this was done, and to this day nobody dare go near it. Then the Prince married the fairy, and they lived happily ever afterwards; but the old gardener and his daughter were not forgotten, and very often the beautiful Princess sat with her friends, and the two girls weaved garlands together, and spoke lovingly of the time when Anar Pari had dwelt in the old hut in the garden.

NOTES

[1] A dish made of rice and lentils cooked together with clarified butter or ghee, and then boiled.

[2] Another native dainty made with sugar, etc.

[3] This is a well-directed piece of sarcasm against native horse-dealers who drug their horses; also against would-be judges of horse-flesh.

[4] The smallest current or shell money of India.

[5] A than is a length of cloth which varies from five yards to twenty yards, or more.

[6] This story was told by a Mahamedan woman, and I should think it was of Mahamedan origin, as no Hindu would even distantly refer to the slaughter of a cow, and such a story told by a Mahamedan to a Hindu would cause intense ill-feeling.

[7] An Indian pipe.

[8] To spit upon a man in the East is considered the greatest of indignities.

[9] The Begum's property is now in possession of the Jesuits, and the priest who lives there is greatly beloved of the people.

End of Project Gutenberg's Simla Village Tales, by Alice Elizabeth Dracott