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ORIENTAL AND NORTH AMERICAN TnOIAN ^ gibbings(and company, limited) (i8 BURY ST.;) LONDON, rw.C.) 1894 SB2ss.Fe ■j^BU PEEFATOEY NOTE • * The East is rich in Folklore, and the lorist is not troubled to discover material, but to select only that which it is best worth his while to preserve. The conditions under which the people live are most favourable to the preservation of the ancient legends, and the cultivation of the powers of narration fits the Oriental to present his stories in a more polished style than is usual in the Western countries. The reader of these tales w^ll observe many points of simi- larity between them and the popular fictions of the West— similarity of thought and incident —and nothing, perhaps, speaks more eloquently the universal brotherhood of man than this 3344 r^ VI PREFATORY NOTE. oneness of folk-fiction. At the same time, the Tales of the East are unique, lighted up as they are by a gorgeous extravagance of imagination which never fails to attract and delight. C. J. T. CONTENTS The Cobbler Astrologer, , The Legend of the Terrestrial Paradise of Sheddad the Son of 'A'D, The Tomb of Noosheerwdn, . Ameen and the Ghool, The Relations of Ssidi Kur, . The Adventures of the Rich Youth, The Adventures of the Beggar's Son, The Adventu'^es of Massang, The Magician with the Swine's Head, The History of Sunshine and his Brother, The Wonderful Man who overcame the Chan, The Bird-Man, . The Pamter and the Wood-carver, The Stealing of the Heart, The Man and his Wife, . Of the Maiden Ssuwarandari, , The Two Cats, PAOB 1 21 30 37 47 53 58 6& 77 89 96 101 lOG 110 115 110 127 viu CONTENTS. Legend of Dhurrumnath, The Traveller's Adventure, . The Seven Stages of Roostein, The Man who never Laughed, The Fox and the Wolf, The Shepherd and the Jogie, The Perfidious Vizier, PAflR 132 136 141 151 1G2 184 186 * I .. i THE COBBLER ASTROLOGER. In the great city of Isfahan lived Ahmed the ob- bler, an honest and industrious man, whose wish was to pass through life quietly; and he might have done so, had he not married a handsome wife, who, although she had condescended to accept of hira as a husband, was far from being contented with his humble sphere of life, Sittara, such was the name of Ahmed's wife, was ever forming foolish schemes of riches and grandeur; and though Ahmed never encouraged them, he was too fond a husband to quarrel with what gave her pleasure. An incredulous smiL^ or a shake of the head was his only answer to her often-told day-dreams ; and she continued to per- suade herself that she was certainly destined to great fortune. It happened one evening, while in this temper of mind, that she went to the Hemmam, where she saw a lady retiring dressed in a magnificent robe, covered with jewels, and surrounded by slaves. This was the very condition Sittara had always Oriental, A ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. longed for, and she eagerly inquired the name of the happy person who had so many attendants and such fine jewels. She learned it was the wife of the chief astrologer to the king. With this informa- tion she returned home. Her husband met her at the door, but was received with a frown, nor could all his caresses obtain a smile or a word ; for several hours she continued silent, and in apparent misery. At length she said — " Cease your caresses, unless you are ready to give me a proof that you do really and sincerely love me." "What proof of love," exclaimed poor Ahmed, " can you desire which I will not give 1 " " Give over cobbling ; it is a vile, low trade, and never yields more than ten or twelve dinars a day. Turn astrologer ! your fortune will be made, and I shall have all I wish, and be happy." "Astrologer ! " cried Ahmed, — "astrologer! Have you forgotten who I am — a cobbler, without any learning — that you want me to engage in a pro- fession which requires so much skill and know- ledge?" " I neither think nor care about your qualifica- tions," said the enraged wife ; " all I know is, that if you do not turn astrologer immediately 1 will be divorced from you to-morrow." The cobbler remonstrated, but in vain. The figure of the astrologer's wife, with her jewels and her slaves, had taken complete possession of Sittara's THE COBBLER ASTROLOGER. leave the louse ffLrhuI T. ',"'''"'' '''" -<""d Her wUHe. W,J:XZ'ZT,:r'i ^''' no astrologer, but he was doti, Jy fo„d of ^ ' 'r"' and he could not bear the idea of t ,. " '''^'' promised to obey and h. • ? """^ her. He bought an aS'abe ;„ air^ '"' "' ''"'" ^'<>*. a table of the twe 'Zr Thr":' '""'*"''°' """ with these he went to ZLtlT'r ^"""''"'^ am an astrologer ! I know T '^ "'' "^'"S' " I and the stars, and the twel siL?„'f t' """ """"' friend Ahmed," said one 'have "'^ "^^''" your head is turned ? " "4" ^'?" "■<"■''«'• till ng by. He was in great ml ^l ' "'"' P^'^" fhestruby belonginfrlhttZ'T^ '"^' ''' had been made to recovJ f^ ^"''^ ^^^f* "»' to no p„,p„,, ; ;7- 'H- mestimable jewel, as the jeweller knew he ORIENTAL FOLKLOKE TALES. could no longer conceal its loss from the king, he looked forward to death as inevitable. In this hopeless state, while wandering about the town, he reached the crowd around Ahmed and asked what was the matter. "Don't you know Ahmed the cobbler 1 " said one of the bystanders, laughing ; " he has been inspired, and is become an astrologer." A drowning man will catch at a broken reed : the jeweller no sooner heard the sound of the word nstrologer, than he went up to Ahmed, told him what had happened, ar ' said, " If you understand your art, you must be able to discover the king's ruby. Do so, and I will give you two hundred pieces of gold. But if you do not succeed within six hours, I will use all my influence at court to have you put to death as an impostor." Poor Ahmed was thunderstruck. He stood long without being able to move or speak, reflecting on his misfortunes, and grieving, above all, that his wife, whom he so loved, had, by her envy and selfishness, brought him to such a fearful alterna- tive. Full of these sad thoughts, he exclaimed aloud, " woman, woman ! thou art more baneful to the happiness of man than the poisonous dragon of the desert ! " The lost ruby had been secreted by the jeweller's wife, who, disquieted by those alarms \,'hich ever attend guilt, sent one of her female slaves to watch her husband. This slave, on seeing her master* THE COBBLER ASTROLOGER. 5 ing, he n this iwn, he d what led the ighing ; )loger." I reed : e word >ld him erstand s king's lundred . within ourt to )d long ing on hat his '^y and ilterna- blaimed )aneful |dragon seller's ever watch master speak to the astrologer, drew near ; and when she heard Ahmed, a/ter some moments of apparent abstraction, compare a woman tc a poisonous dragon, she was satisfied that he must know every- thing. She ran to her mistress, and, breathless with fear, cried, " You are discovered, my dear mistress, you are discovered by a vile astrologer. Before six hours are past the whole story will be known, and you will become infamous, if you are even so fortu- nate as to escape with life, unless you can find some way of prevailing on him to be merciful." She then related what she had seen and heard ; and Ahmed's exclamation carried as complete conviction to the mind of the terrified mistress as it had done to that of her slave. The jeweller's wife, hastily throwing on her veil, went in search of the dreaded astrologer. When she found him, she threw herself at his feet, crying, " Spare my honour and my life, and I will confess everything ! " " What can you have to confess to me 1 " exclaimed Ahmed in amazement. " Oh, nothing ! nothing with which you are not already acquainted. You know too well that I stole the ruby from the king's crown. I did so to punish my husband, who uses me most cruelly ; and I thought by this means to obtain riches for myself, and to have him put to death. But you, most wonderful man, from Avhom nothing is hidden, lui»e in 6 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. discovered and defeated my wicked plan. I beg only for mercy, and will do whatever you command me. An angel from heaven could not have brought more consolation to Ahmed than did the jeweller's wife. He assumed all the dignified solemnity that became his new character, and said, " Woman ! I know all thou hast done, and it is fortunate for thee that thou hast come to confess thy sin and beg for mercy before it was too late. Eeturn to thy house, put the ruby under the pillow of ^he couch on which thy husband sleeps; let it be laid on the side furthest from the door; and be satisfied thy guilt shall never be even suspected." The jeweller's wife returned home, and did as she was desired. In an hour Ahmed followed her, and told the jeweller he had made his calculations, and found by the aspect of the sun and moon, and by the configuration of the stars, that the ruby was at that moment lying under the pillow of his couch, on the side furthest from the door. The jeweller thought Ahmed must be crazy; but as a ray of hope is like a ray from heaven to the wretched, he ran to his couch, and there, to his joy and wonder, found the ruby in the very place described. He came back to Ahmed, embraced him, called him his dearest friend and the preserver of his life, ant. gave him the two hundred pieces of gold, declaring that he was the first astrologer of the age. THE COBBLEll ASTROLOGER. that These praises conveyed no joy to the poor cobbler, who returned home more thankful to God for his preservation than elated by his good fortune. The moment he entered the door his wife ran up to him and exclaimed, " Well, my dear astrologer ! Avhat success?" " There ! " said Ahmed, very gravely, — " there are two hundred pieces of gold. I hope you will be satisfied now, and not ask me again to hazard my life, as I have done this morning." He then related all that had passed. But the recital made a veiy different impression on the lady from what these occurrences had made on Ahmed. Sittara saw nothing but the gold, which would enable her to vie with the chief astrologer's wife at the Hemmam. " Courage ! " she said, "courage ! my dearest husband. This is only your first labour in your new and noble profession. Go on and prosper, and we shall be- come rich and happy." In vain Ahmed remonstrated and represented the danger ; she burst into tears, and accused him of not loving her, ending with her usual threat of insisting upon a divorce. Ahmed's heart melted, and he agreed to make another trial. Accordingly, next morning he sallied forth with his astrolabe, his twelve signs of the zodiac, and his almanac, exclaiming, as before, " I am an astrologer ! I know the sun, and the moon, and the stars, and the twelve signs of the zodiac ; I ^ 8 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. can calculate nativities; I can foretell everything that is to happen ! " A crowd again gathered round him, but it was now with wonder, and not ridicule ; for the story of the ruby had gone abroad, and the voice of fame had converted the poor cobbler Ahmed into the ablest and most learned astrologer that was ever seen at Isfahan. While everybody was gazing at him, a lady passed by veiled. She was the wife of one of the richest merchants in the city, and had just been at the Hemraam, where she had lost a valuable necklace and earrings. She was now returning home in great alarm lest her husband should suspect her of having given her jewels to a lover. Seeing the crowd around Ahmed, she asked the reason of their assem- bling, and was informed of the whole story of the famous astrologer : how he had been a cobbler, was inspired with supernatural knowledge, and could, with the help of his astrolabe, his twelve signs of the zodiac, and his almanac, discover all that ever did or ever would happen in the world. The story of the jeweller and the king's ruby was then told her, accompanied by a thousand wonderful circum- stances which had never occurred. The lady, quite satisfied of his skill, went up to Ahmed and men- tioned her loss, saying : " A man of your knowledge and penetration will easily discover my jewels ; find them, and I will give you fifty pieces of gold." The poor cobbler was quite confounded, and looked THE COBBLER ASTROLOGER. 9 down, thinking only how to escape without a x)ublic exposure of his ignorance. The lady, in pressing through the crowd, had torn the lower part of her veil. Ahmed's downcast eyes noticed this; and wishing to inform her of it in a delicate manner, before it was observed by others, he whispered to her, " Lady, look down at the rent." The lady's head was full of her loss, and she was at that moment endeavouring to recollect how it could have occurred. Ahmed's speech brought it at once to her mind, and she exclaimed in delighted surprise : " Stay here a few moments, thou great astrologer. I will return immediately with the reward thou so well deservest." Saying this, she left him, and soon returned, carry- ing in one hand the necklace and earrings, and in the other a purse with the fifty pieces of gold. " There is gold for thee," she said, " thou wonderful man, to whom all the secrets of Nature are revealed ! I had quite forgotten where I laid the jewels, and without thee should never have found them. But when thou desiredst me to look at the rent below, I instantly recollected the rent near the bottom of the wall in the bathroom, where, before undressing, I had hid them. I can now go home in peace and com- fort; and it is all owing to thee, thou wisest of men ! " After these words she walked away, and Ahmed returned to his home, thankful to Providence for his preservation, and fully resolved never again to tempt it. His handsome wife, however, could not 10 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. yet rival the chief astrologer's lady in her appear- ance at the Hemm5,m, so she renewed her entreaties and threats, to make her fond husband continue his career as an astrologer. About this time it happened that the king's trea- sury was robbed of forty chests of gold and jewels, forming the greater part of the wealth of the king- dom. The high treasurer and other officers of state used all diligence to find the thieves, but in vain. The king sent for his astrologer, and declared that if the robbers were not detected by a stated time, he, as well as the principal ministers, should be put to death. Only one day of the short period given them remained. All their search had proved fruitless, and the chief astrologer, who had made his calculations and exhausted his art to no purpose, had quite resigned himself to his fate, when one of his friends advised him to send for the wonderful cobbler, who had become so famous for his extraordinary dis- coveries. Two slaves were immediately despatched for Ahmed, whom they commanded to go with them to their master. " You see the effects of your ambi- tion," said the poor cobbler to his wife ; " I am going to my death. The king's astrologer has heard of my presumption, and is determined to have me executed as an impostor." On entering the palace of the chief astrologer, he was surprised to see that dignified person come for- ward to receive him, and lead him to the seat of THE COBBLER ASTROLOGER. 11 honour, and not Ib^s so to hear himself thus ad- dressed : " The ways of Heaven, most learned and excellent Ahmed, are unsearchable. The high are often cast down, and the low are lifted up. The whole world depends upon fate and fortune. It is my turn now to be depressed by fate ; it is thine to be exalted by fortune." His speech was here interrupted by a messenger from the king, who, having heard of the cobbler's fame, desired his attendance. P^or Ahmed now concluded that it was all over with him, and followed the king's messenger, praying to God that he would deliver him from this peril. When he came into the king's presence, he bent his body to the ground, and wished his majesty long life and prosperity. " Tell me, Ahmed," said the king, " who has stolen my treasure?" " It was not one man," answered Ahmed, after some consideration ; " there were forty thieves con- cerned in the robbery." "Very well," said the king; "but who were they 1 and what have they done with my gold and jewels 1 " " These questions," said Ahmed, " I cannot now answer ; but I hope to satisfy your Majesty, if you will grant me forty days to make my calculations." "I grant you forty days," said the king; "but when they are past, if my treasure is not found, your life shall pay the forfeit." W' 12 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. Ahmed returned to his house Wv'^ll pleasod; for he resolved to take advantage of the time allowed him to fly from a city where his fame was likely to be his ruin. "Well, Ahmed," said his wife, as he entered, " what news at Court ] " " No news at all," said he, " except that I am to be put to death at the end of forty days, unless I find forty chests of gold and jewels which have been stolen from the royal treasury." " But you will discover the thieves." " How 1 By what means am I to find them ? " " By the same art which discovered the ruby and the lady's necklace." " The same art ! " replied Ahmed. " Foolish woman ! thou knowest that I have no art, and that I have only pretended to it for the sake of pleasing thee. But I have had sufficient skill to gain forty days, during which time we may easily escape to some other city; and with the money I now possess, and the aid of my former occupation, we may still obtain an honest livelihood." " An honest livelihood ! " repeated his lady, with scorn. "Will thy cobbling, thou mean, spiritless wretch, ever enable me to go to the Hemmam like the wife of the chief astrologer 1 Hear me, Ahmed ! Think only of discovering the king's treasure. Thou hast just as good a chance of doing so as thou hadst of finding the ruby, and the necklace and earrings. THE COBBLER ASTROLOGER. 13 At all events, I am determined thou shalt not escape ; and shouldst thou attempt to run away, I will inform the king's officers, and have thee taken up and put to death, even before the forty days are expired. Thou knowest me too well, Ahmed, to doubt my keeping my word. So take courage, and endeavour to make thy fortune, and to place me in that rank of life to which my beauty entitles me." The poor cobbler was dismayed at this speech ; but knowing there was no hope of changing his wife's resolution, he resigned himself to his fate. " Well," said he, " your will shall be obeyed. All I desire is to pass the few remaining days of my life as comfortably as I can. You know I am no scholar, and have little skill in reckoning ; so there are forty dates : give me one of them every night after I have said my prayers, that I may put them in a jar, and, by counting them may always see how many of the few days I have to live are gone." The lady, pleased at cnrrying her point, took the dates, and promised to be punctual in doing what her husband desired. Meanwhile the thieves who had stolen the king's treasure, having been kept from leaving the city by fear of detection and pursuit, had received accurate information of every measure taken to discover them. One of them was among the crowd before the palace on the day the king sent for Ahmed; 14 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. and hearing that the cobbler had immediately declared their exact number, he ran in a fright to his comrades, and exclaimed, " We are all found out ! Ahmed, the new astrologer, has told the king that there are forty of us." " There needed no astrologer to tell that," said the captain of the gang. "This Ahmed, with all his simple good-nature, is a shrewd fellow. Forty chests having been stolen, he naturally guessed that there must be forty thieves, and he has made a good hit, that is all ; still it is prudent to watch him, for he certainly has made some strange dis- coveries. One of us must go to-night, after dark, to the terrace of this cobbler's house, and listen to his conversation with his handsome wife ; for he is said to be very fond of her, and will, no doubt, tell her what success he has had in his endeavours to detect us." Everybody approved of this scheme ; and soon after nightfall one of the thieves repaired to the terrace. He arrived there just as the cobbler had finished his evening prayers, and his wife was giving him the first date. " Ah ! " said Ahmed, as he took it, " there is one of the forty." The thief, hearing these words, hastened in con- sternation to the gang, and told them that the moment he took his post he had been perceived by the supernatural 1 owledge of Ahmed, who im- mediately told his wife that one of them was there. THE COBBLER ASTROLOGER. 15 The spy's tale was not believed by his hardened companions ; something was imputed to his fears ; he might have been mistaken ; — in short, it was determined to send two men the next night at the same hour. They reached the house just as Ahmed, having finished his prayers, had received the second date, and heard him exclaim, " My dear wife, to-night there are two of them ! " The astonished thieves fled, and told their still incredulous comrades what they had heard. Three men were consequently sent the third night, four the fourth, and so on. Being afraid of venturing during the day, they always came as evening closed in, and just as Ahmed was receiving his date, hence they all in turn heard him say that which convinced them he was aware of their presence. On the last night they all went, and Ahmed exclaimed aloud, " The number is complete ! To-night the whole forty are here ! " All doubts were now removed. It was impossible that Ahmed should have discovered them by any natural means. How could he ascertain their exact number? and night after night, without ever once being mistaken ? He must have learnt it by his skill in astrology. Even the captain noAV yielded, in spite of his incredulity, and declared his opinion that it was hopeless to elude a man thus gifted ; he therefore advised that they should make a friend of the cobbler, by confessing everything to him, 16 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. at and bribing him to secrecy by a share of the booty. His advice was approved of, and an hour before dawn they knocked at Ahmed's door. The poor man jumped out of bed, and supposing the soldiers were come to lead him to execution, cried out, " Have patience ! I know what you are come for. It is a very unjust and wicked deed." " Most wonderful man ! " said the captain, as the door was opened, " we are fully convinced that thou knowest why we are come, nor do we mean to justify the action of which thou speakest. Here are two thousand pieces of gold, which we will give thee, provided thou wilt swear to say nothing more about the matter." " Sa nothing about it ! " said Ahmed. " Do you think it possible I can suffer such gross wrong and injustice without complaining, and making it known to all the world 1 " " Have mercy upon us ! " exclaimed the thieves, falling on their knees ; " only spare our lives, and we will restore the royal treasure." The cobbler started, rubbed his eyes to see if he were asleep or awake ; and being satisfied that he was awake, and that the men before him were really the thieves, he assumed a solemn tone, and said : " Guilty men ! ye are persuaded that ye cannot escape from my penetration, which reaches unto the sun and moon, and knows the position and aspect of THE COBBLER ASTROLOGER. 17 every star in the heavens. Your timely repentance has saved you. But ye must immediately restore all that ye have stolen. Go straightway, and carry the forty chests exactly as ye found them, and bury them a foot deep under the southern wall of the old ruined Hemmam, beyond the king's palace. If ye do this punctually, your lives are spared ; but if ye fail in the slightest degree, destruction will fall upon you and your families." The thieves promised obedience to his commands and departed. Ahmed then fell on his knees, and returned thanks to God for this signal mark of his favour. About two hours after the royal guards came, and desired Ahmed to follow them. He said he would attend them as soon as he had taken leave of his wife, to whom he determined not to impart what had occurred until he saw the result. He bade her farewell very affectionately ; she supported her- self with great fortitude on this trying occasion, exhorting her husband to be of good cheer, and said a few words about the goodness of Providence. But the fact was, Sittara fancied that if God took the worthy cobbler to himself, her beauty might attract some rich lover, who would enable her to go to the Hemra^m with as much splendour as the astrologer's lady, whose image, adorned with jewels and fine clothes, and surrounded by slaves, still haunted her imagmation. The decrees of Heaven are just : reward suited B 18 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. i to their merits awaited i^hmed and his wife. The good man stood with a cheerful countenance before the king, who was impatient for his arrival, and immediately said, " Ahmed, thy looks are promising; hast thou discovered my treasure 1 " "Does your Majesty require the thieves or the treasure? The stars wiL only grant one or the other," said Ahmed, looking at his table of astrolo- gical calculations. "Your Majesty must make your choice. I can deliver up either, but not both." "I should be sorry not to punish the thieves," answered the king ; " but if it must be so, I choose the treasure." "And you give the thieves a full and free pardon 1 " "I do, provided I find my treasure untouched." " Then," said Ahmed, " if your majesty will follow me, the treasure shall be restored to you." The king and all his nobles followed the cobbler to the ruins of the old Hemmam. There, casting his eyes towards heaven, Ahmed muttered some sounds, which were supposed by the spectatois to be magical conjurations, but which were in reality the prayers and thanksgivings of a sincere and pious heart to God for his wonderful deliverance. When his prayer was finished, he printed to the southern wall, and requested that his majesty would order his THE COBPLER ASTROLOGER. 19 ife. The ice before ival, and romising; es or the le or the f astrolo- ist make but not thieves," >, I choose and free ached." jesty will ored to le cobbler asting his ae sounds, )e magical e prayers heart to IVhen his hern wall, order his attendants to dig there. The work was hardly begun, when the whole forty chests were found in the same state as when stolen, with the treasurer's seal upon them still unbroken. The king's joy knew no bounds; he embraced Ahmed, and immediately appointed him his chief astrologer, assigned to him an apartment in the palace, and declared that he should marry his only daughter, as it was his duty to promote the man whom God had so singularly favoured, and had made iiiBtrumental in restoring the treasures of his kingdom. The young princess, who was more beautiful than the moon, was not dissatisfied with her father's :hoice ; for her mind was stored with religion and virtue, and she had learnt to value beyond ail earthly qualities that piety and learning which she believed Ahmed to possess. The royal will was carried into execution as soon as formed. The wheel of fortune had taken a complete turn. The morning had found Ahmed in a wretched hovel, rising from a sorry bed, in the expectation of losing his life ; in the evening he was the lord of a rich palace, and married to the only daughter of a power- ful king. But this change did not alter his charac- ter. As he had been meek and humble in adversity, he was modest and gentle in prosperity. Conscious of his own ignorance, he continued to ascribe his good fortune solely to the favour of Providence. He became daily more attached to the beautiful and 20 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. virtuous princess whom he had married; and he could not help contrasting her character with that of his former wife, whom he had ceased to love, and of whose unreasonable and unfeeling vanity he was now fully sensible. I , ; and he ih that of e, and of was now THE LEGEND OF THE TEEKESTRIAL . PAKADISE OF SHED D AD, THE SON OF 'A'D. It is related that 'Abd Allah, the son of Aboo KiUbeh, went forth to seek a camel that had run away, and while he was proceeding over the deserts of El-Yeraan and the district of Seba, he chanced to arrive at a vast city encompassed by enormous fortifications, around the circuit of which were pavilions rising high into the sky. So when he approached it, he imagined that there must be in- habitants within it, of whom he might inquire for his camel; and, accordingly, he advanced, but on coming to it he found that it was desolate, without any one to cheer its solitude. "I alighted," says he, "from my she-camel, and tied up her foot ; and then, composing my mind, entered the city. On approaching the fortifications, I found that they had two enormous gates, the like of which, for size and height, have never been seen elsewhere in the world, set with a variety of jewels and jacinth, white and red, and yellow and green ; 21 22 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. I I and when I beheld this, I was struck with the utmost wonder at it, and the sight astonished me. I entered the fortifications in a state of terror and with a wandering mind, and saw them to be of the same large extent as the city, and to comprise elevated pavilions, every one of these containing lofty chambers, and all of them constructed of gold and silver, and adorned with rubies and chrysolites and pearls and various-coloured jewels. The fold- ing-doors of these pavilions were like those of the fortifications in beauty, and the floors were overlaid with large pearls, and with balls like hazel-nuts, composed of musk and ambergris and saffron. And when I came into the midst of the city, I saw not in it a created being of the sons of Adam ; riid I almost died of terror. I then looked down from the summits of the lofty chambers and pavilions, and saw rivers running beneath them ; and in the great thoroughfare-streets of the city were fruit- bearing trees and tall palm-trees. And the construc- tion of the city was of alternate bricks of gold and silver; so I said within myself. No doubt this is the paradise promised in the world to come. " I carried away of the jewels which were as its gravel, and the musk that was as its dust, as much as I could bear, and returned to my district, where I acquainted the people with the occurrence. And the news reached Mo'dwiyeh, the son of Aboo Sufydn (who was then Caliph), in the Hejdz ; so he THE LEGEND OF THE TERRESTRIAL PARADISE. 23 s wrote to his lieutenant in San'a of El- Yemen, say- ing, 'Summon that man, and inquire of him the truth of the matter ! ' His lieutenant therefore caused me to be brought, and demanded of me an account of my adventure, and of what had befallen me ; and I informed him of what I had seen. He then sent me to Mo'^wiyeh, and I acquainted him also with that which I had seen, but he disbelieved it ; so I produced to him some of those pearls and the little balls of ambergris and musk and saffron. The latter retained somewhat of their sweet scent ; but the pearls had become yellow and discoloured. " At the sight of these Mo'dwiyeh wondered, and he sent and caused Kaab el-Ahbdr to be brought before him, and said to him, ' Kaab el-Ahbdr, I have called thee on account of a matter of which I desire to know the truth, and I hope that thou mayest be able to certify me of it.' ' And what is it, Prince of the Faithful '? ' asked Kaab el-Ahbdr. Mo'dwiyeh said, * Hast thou any knowledge of the existence of a city constructed of gold and silver, the pillars whereof are of chrysolite and ruby, and the gravel of which is of pearls, and of balls like hazel-nuts, composed of musk and ambergris and saffron?' He answered, *Yes, Prince of the Faithful! It is Irem Zat - el - 'Emdd, the like of which hath never been constructed in the regions of the earth; and Shedddd, the son of 'A'd the Greater, built it' 'Relate to us,' said Mo'dwiyeh, 'some- 24 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. what of its history.' And Kaab el-Ahbsir replied thus : — " ' 'A'd the Greater had two sons, Shedeed and Shedddd, and when their father perished they reigned conjointly over the countries after him, and there was no one of the kings of the earth who was not subject to them. And Shedeed the son of 'A'd died, so his brother Shedddd ruled alone over the earth after him. He was fond of reading the ancient books ; and when he met with the descrip- tion of the w^orld to come, and of paradise, with its pavilions and lofty chambers, and its trees and fruits, and of the other things in paradise, his heart enticed him to construct its like on the earth, after this manner which hath been above mentioned. He had under his authority a hundred thousand kings, under each of whom were a hundred thousand valiant chieftains, and under each of these were a hundred thousand soldiers. And he summoned them all before him, and said to them, " I find in the ancient books and histories the description of the paradise that is in the other world, and I desire to make its like upon the earth. Depart ye therefore to the most pleasant and most spacious vacant tract in the earth, and build for me in it a city of gold and silver, and spread, as its gravel, chrysolites and rubies and pearls, and as the supports of the vaulted roofs of that city make columns of chrysolite, and fill it with pavilions, and over the pavilions con- THE LEGEND OF THE TERRESTRIAL PARADISE. 25 struct lofty chambers, and beneath them plant, in the by-streets and great-thoroughfare streets, varieties of trees bearing different kinds of ripe fruits, and make rivers to run beneath them in channels of gold and silver." To this they all re- plied, " How can we accomplish that which thou hast described to us, and how can we procure the chrysolites and rubies and pearls that thou hast mentioned ? " But he said, " Know ye not that the kings of the world are obedient to me, and under my authority, and that no one who is in it dis- obey eth my command "i " They answered, " Yes, we know that." " Depart then," said he, " to the mines of chrysolite and ruby, and to the places where pearls are found, and gold and silver, and take forth and collect their contents from the earth, and spare no exertions. Take also for me, from the hands of me, such of those things as ye find, and spare none, nor let any escape you ; and beware of disobedience ! " " ' He then wrote a letter to each of the kings in the regions of the earth, commanding them to collect all the articles of the kinds above mentioned that their subjects possessed, and to repair to the mines in which these things were found, and extract the precious stones that they contained, even from the beds of the seas. And they collected the things that he required in the space of twenty years; after which he sent forth the geometricians and sages. I : ! It 26 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. and labourers and artificers, from all the countries and regions, and they dispersed themselves through the deserts and wastes, and tracts and districts, until they came to a desert wherein was a vast open plain, clear from hills and mountains, and in it were springs gushing forth, and rivers running. So they said, " This is the kind of place which the king commanded us to seek, and called us to find." They then busied themselves in building the city accord- ing to the direction of the King Shedddd, king of the whole earth, in its length and breadth; and they made through it the channels for the rivers, and laid the foundations conformably with the pre- scribed extent. The kings of the various districts of the earth sent thither the jewels and stones, and large and small pearls, and carnelian and pure gold, upon camels over the deserts and wastes, and sent great ships with them over the seas ; and a quantity of those things, such as cannot be described nor calculated nor defined, was brought to the work- men, who laboured in the construction of this city three hundred years. And when they had finished it, they came to the king and acquainted him with the completion ; and he said to them, " Depart, and make around it impregnable fortifications of great height, and construct around the circuit of the fortifications a thousand pavilions, each with a thousand pillars beneath it, in order that there may be in each pavilion a vizier." So they went imme- THE LEGEND OF THE TERRESTRIAL PARADISE. 27 a (liately, and did this in twenty years ; after which they presented themselves before Shedddd, and in- formed him of the accomplishment of his desire. " * He therefore ordered his viziers, who were a thousand in number, and his chief officers, and such of his troops and others as he confided in, to make themselves ready for departure, and to prepare themselves for removal to Irem Zat-el-'Emdd, in attendance upon the king of the world, Shedddd, the son of 'A'd. He ordered also such as he chose of his women and his hareem, as his female slaves and his eunuchs, to fit themselves out. And they passed twenty years in equipping themselves. Then Shedddd proceeded with his troops, rejoiced at the accomplishment of his desire, until there remained between him and Irem Zat-el-'Emdd one day's journey, when God sent down upon him and upon the obstinate infidels who accompanied him a loud cry from the heaven of His power, and it destroyed them all by the vehemence of its sound. Neither Shedddd nor any of those who were with him arrived at the city, or came in sight of it, and God obliterated the traces of the road that led to it, but the city remaineth as it was in its place until the hour of the judgment !' " At this narrative, related by Kaab el-Ahbdr, Mo'dwiyeh wondered, and he said to him, ' Can any one of mankind arrive at that city]' 'Yes,' an- swered Kaab el-Ahbdr ; * a man of the companions 28 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. J I !■ I ii 1 I of Mohammed (upon whom be blessing and peace !), in appearance like this man who is sitting here, without any doubt.' Esh-Shaabee also saith, * It is related, on the authority of the learned men of Hemyer, in El-Yemen, that when Shedddd and those who were with him were destroyed by the loud cry, his son Shedddd the Less reigned after him ; for his father, Shedddd the Greater, had left him as successor to his kingdom, in the land of Hadramdt and Seba, on his departure with the troops who accompanied him to Irem Zat-el-'Emdd. And as soon as the news reached him of the death of his father, on the way before his arrival at the city of Irem, he gave orders to carry his father's body from those desert tracts to Hadramdt, and to excavate the sepulchre for him in a cavern. And when they had done this, he placed his body in it, upon a couch of gold, and covered the corpse with seventy robes, interwoven with gold and adorned with precious jewels ; and he placed at his head a tablet of gold, whereon were inscribed these verses : — " ' Be admonishefl, thou who art deceived by a pro- longed life ! I am Sheddad, the son of 'A'd, the lord of a strong fortress, The lord of power and might, and of excessive valour. The inhabitants of the earth obeyed me, fearing my severity and threats ; And I held the east and west under a strong dominion. And a preacher of the true religion invited us to the right way ; THE LEGEND OF THE TEKKESTIIIAL PARADISE. 29 But we opposed him, and said, Is there no refuce from it? " And a loud cry assaulted us from a tract of the distant horizon ; Whereupon we fell down like corn in the midst of a plain at harvest ; And now, beneath the earth, we await the threatened day.' " Eth-Tha'illibee also saith, * It happened that two men entered this cavern, and found at its upper end some steps, and having descended these, they found an excavation, the length whereof was a hundred cubits, and its breadth forty cubits, and its height a hundred cubits. And in the midst of this excava- tion was a couch of gold, upon which was a man of enormous bulk, occupying its whole length and breadth, covered with ornaments and with robes interwoven with gold and silver ; and at his head was a tablet of gold, whereon was an inscription. And they took that tablet, and carried away from the place as much as they could of bars of gold and silver and other things.' " . THE TOMB OF NOOSHEEKWAN. The caliph Haroon-oor-Raslieed went to visit the tomb of the celebrated Noosheerwan, the most famous of all the monarchs who ever governed Persia. Before the tomb was a curtain of gold cloth, which, when H^roon touched it, fell to pieces. The walls of the tomb were covered with gold and jewels, whose splendour illumined its darkness. The body was placed in a sitting posture on a throne enchased with jewels, and had so much the appearance of life that, on the first impulse, the Commander of the Faithful bent to the ground, and saluted the remains of the just Noo- sheerwlin. Though the face of the departed monarch was like that of a living man, and the whole of the body in a state of preservation, which showed the admirable skill of those who embalmed it, yet when the caliph touched the garments they mouldered into dust. H^roon upon this took his own rich robes and threw them over the corpse ; he also hung up a new cur- tain richer than that he had destroyed, and per- 80 THE TOMB OF NOOSIIEERWAN. 31 fumed the whole tomb with camphor, and other sweet scents. It was remarked that no change was perceptible in the body of Noosheerw&n, except that the ears had become white. The whole scene affected the caliph greatly; he burst into tears, and repeated from the Koran — " What I have seen is a warning to those who have eyes." Ife observed some writ- ing upon the throne, which h^- ordered the Moobids (priests), who were learned in the Pehlevee language, to read aiid explain. They did so : it was as follows : — "This world remains not ; the muii who thinks least of it is the wisest. "Enjoy this world before th' ' becomest its {)rey. " Bestow the same favour on those below thee as thou desirest to receive from thosi ve thee. " If thou shouldst conquer the whole world, death will at last conquer thee. " Be careful that thou art not the dupe of thine own for- tune. •' Thou shalt be paid exactly for what thou hast done ; no more, no less." The caliph observed a dark ruby-ring on the finger of Noosheerwan, on which was written — "Avoid cruelty, study good, and never be precipitate in action. *'If thou shouldst live for a hundred years, never for one moment forget death. " Value above all things the society of the wise." Around the right arm of Noosheerwan was a clasp of gold, on which was engraved — " On a certain year, on the 10th day of the month Erde- 32 OKIENTAL FOLKLOKE TALES. V-' behisht, a caliph of the race of Adean, professing the faith of iviahomed, accompanied by four good men, and one bad, shall visit my tomb." Below this sentence were the names of the fore- fathers of the caliph. Another prophecy was added concerning H^roon's pilgrimage to Noosheerwan's tomb. "liiis piiuce will honour me, and do good unto me, though I have no claim upon him ; and he will clothe me in a new vest, and besprinkle my tomb with sweet-scented essences, and then depart unto his home. But the bad man who accompanies him shall act treacherously towards me. I pray that God may send one of my race to repay the great favours of the caliph, and to take vengeance on his un- worthy companion. There i^, under my throne, an inscrip- tion which the caliph must read and contemplate. Its contents will remind him of me, and make him pardon my inability to give him more." The caliph, on hearing this, put his hand under the throne, and found the inscription, which con- sisted of some lines, inscribed on a ruby as large as the palm of the hand. The Moobids read this also. It contained information where would be found con- cealed a treasure of gold and arms, with some caskets of rich jewels ; under this was written — " These I give to the caliph in return for the good he has done me ; let him take them and be happy." When Haroon-oor-Rasheed was about to leave the tomb, Hoosein-ben-Sahil, his vizier, said to him : " Lord of the Faithful, what is the use of all these * ii THE TOMB OF NOOSHEERWAN. 33 con- precious gems which ornament the abode of the dead,, and are of no benefit to the living 1 Allow me to take some of them." The calii^h replied with indignation, " Such a wish is more worthy of a thief than of a great or wise man." Hoosein was ashamed of his speech, and said to the servant who had been placed at the entrance of the tomb, " Go thou, and worship the holy shrine within." The man went into the tomb ; he was above a hundred years old, but he had never seen such a blaze of wealth. He felt inclined to plunder some of it, but was at first afraid ; at last, summoning all his courage, he took a ring from the finger of Noosheerwan, and came away. Haroon saw this man come out, and observinsr him alarmed, he at once conjectured what he had been doing. Addressing those around him, he said, " Do not you now see the extent of the knowledge of Noosheerwan 1 He prophesied that there should be one unworthy man with me. It is this fellow. What have you taken ? " said he, in an angry tone. " Nothing," said the man. " Search him," said the caliph. It was done, and the ring of Noosheerwan was found. This the caliph immediately took, and, entering the tomb, replaced it on the cold finger of the deceased monarch. When he returned, a terrible sound like that of loud thunder was heard. Hilroon came down from the mountain on which the tomb stood, and ordered the road to be made Oriental p I 84 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. ^: inaccessible to future curiosity. He searched for, and found, in the place described, the gold, the arms, and the jewels bequeathed to him by Noo- sheerwan, and sent them to Bagdad. Among the rich articles found was a golden crown, which had five sides, and was richly orna- mented with precious stones. On every side a number of admirable lessons were written. The most remarkable were as follows : — First side. " Give my regards to those who know themselves. " Consider the end before yoii begin, and before yon advance provide a retreat. " Give not unnecessary pain to any man, but study the happiness of all. "Ground not your dignity upon your power to hurt others." Second side. "Take counsel before you commence any measure, and never trust its execution to the inexperienced. "Sacrifice your property for your life, and your life for your religion. " Spend your time in establishing a good name ; and if you desire fortune, learn contentment." Third side. " Grieve not for that which is broken, stolen, burnt, or lost. '' Never give orders in another man's house ; and accustom yourself to eat your bread at your own table. " Make not yourself the captive of women." If H THE TOMB OF NOOSHEERWAN. Fourth side. 35 Z ^^-^^^ *?l'''," ** "^ tlistance from those who are incorri fvt;r -l-itSt S'aSef "° '■""-"- ^■"'' '•■- - " Covet not the goods of others "Fear kings, women, and poets. leave open the door of concSion ^ """^ '^»'*>'^ ••Never let your expemes exceed your income. an old one '°""* "' " ^"" '"""" "'P^' *° ™' 'town car';,e't." '"'' '""' '°«' "° ^"""^ «""" '"e size of y„„r witT.lr!T''-''fr""''''.'''^'*"'^ "''^ more pleaded with the admirable max-m., inscribed on this crown han with all the treasures he had found. "Write hese precepts," he exclaimed, "in a book, that tl^ faithful may eat of the fruit of wisdom." When he .■eturned to Bagdad, he related to his favourite vi^ier, Jaffier Bermekee, and his other chief offic"rt^ 36 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. all that had passed ; and the shade of NoosheerwA,n was propitiat'^d by the disgrace of Hooseiii-beii-Sahil (who had recommended despoiling his tomb), and the exemplary punishment of the servant who had committed the sacrilegious act of taking the ring from the finger of the departed monarch. rwan Sahil and » had ring AMEEN^ AND THE GHOOL. There is a dreadful place in Persia called the "Valley of the Angel of Death." That terrific minister of God's wrath, according to tradition, has resting-places upon the earth and his favourite abodes. He is surrounded by ghools, horrid beings who, when he takes away life, feast upon the carcasses. The natural shape of these monsters is terrible ; but they can assume those of animals, such as cows or camels, or whatever they choose, often appearing to men as their relations or friends, and then they do not only transform their shapes, but their voices also are altered. Tlie frightful screams and yells which are often heard amid these dreaded ravines are changed for the softest and most melodious notes. Unwary travellers, deluded by the appearance of friends, or captivated by the forms and charmed by the music of these demons, are allured from their path, and after feasting for a few hours on every luxury, are consigned to destruction. The number of these ghools has greatly decreased 37 38 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. since the birth of the Prophet, and they have no power to hurt those who pronounce his name in sincerity of faith. These creatures are the very lowest of the supernatural world, and, besides being timid, are extremely stupid, and consequently often imposed upon by artful men. The natives of Isfahan, though not brave, are the most crafty and acute people upon earth, and often supply the want of courage by their address. An inhabitant of that city was once compelled to travel alone at night through this dreadful valley. He was a man of ready wit, and fond of adventures, and, though no lion, had great confidence in his cunning, which had brought him through a hundred scrapes and perils that would have embarrassed or destroyed your simple man of valour. This man, whose name was Ameen Beg, had heard many stories of the ghools of the " Valley of the Angel of Death," and thought it likely he might meet one. He prepared accordingly, by putting an egg and a lump of salt in his pocket. He had not gone far amidst the rocks, when he heard a voice crying, " Holloa, Ameen Beg Isfahanee ! you are going the wrong road, you will lose yourself; come this way. I am your friend Kerreem Beg ; I know your father, old Kerbela Beg, and the street in which you were born." Ameen knew well the power the ghools had of assuming thf shape of any person they choose ; and he also knew their skill as I AMEEN AND THE GHOOL. 39 genealogists, and their knowledge of towns as well as families ; he had therefore little doubt this was one of those creatures alluring him to destruction. He, however, determined to encounter him, and trust to his art for his escape. " Stop, my friend, till I come near you," was his reply. When Ameen came close to the ghool, he said, " You are not my friend Kerreem ; you are a lying demon, but you are just the being I desired to meet. I have tried my strength against all the men and all the beasts which exist in the natural world, and I can find nothing that is a match for me. I came therefore to this valley in the hope of en- countering a ghool, that I might prove my jDrowess upon him." The ghool, astonished at being addressed in this manner, looked keenly at him, and said, " Son of Adam, you do not appear so strong." " Appear- ances are deceitful," replied Ameen, " but I will give you a proof of my strength. There," said he, picking up a stone from a rivulet, " this contains a fluid ; try if you can so squeeze it that it will flow out." The ghool took the stone, but, after a short attempt, returned it, saying, " Tlie thing is impos- sible." " Quite easy," said the Isfahanee, taking the stone and placing it in the hand in which he had before put the egg. " Look there ! " And the astonished ghool, while he heard what he took for the breaking of the stone, saw the liquid run from T 40 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. between Araeen's fingers, and this apparently with- out any effort. Ameen, aided by the darkness, placed the stone upon the ground while he picked up another of a darker hue. " This," said he, " I cfin see contains salt, as you will find if you can crumble it between your fingers;" but the ghool, looking at it, con- fessed he had neither knowledge to discover its qualities nor strength to break it. " Give it me," said his companion impatiently; and, having put it into the same hand with the piece of salt, he instantly gave the latter all crushed to the ghool, who, seeing it reduced to powder, tasted it, and remained in stupid astonishment at the skill and strength of this wonderful man. Neither was he without alarm lest his strength should be exerted against himself, and he saw no safety in resorting to the shape of a beast, for Ameen had warned him that if he commenced any such unfair dealing, he would instantly slay liim ; for ghools, though long- lived, are not immortal. Under such circumstances he thought his best plan was to conciliate the friendship of his new companion till he found an opportunity of destroy- ing him. "Most wonderful man," he said, " will you honour my abode with your presence 1 it is quite at hand : there you will find every refreshment; and after a com- fortable night's rest you can resume your journey." ill! :''jftS»^t»k>s Fordyce (Dingwall.) gwall) •Mar. orison) tchie;) tchie;) Foote rhom:) Sep. |.) md d rwall.) >rison) jrison) iber 443 Fordyce D. Penelope Rose (i. JasD. F. &. Pen. Miller) 444 Fordyce D. Rachel (1. Capt. Alex. D. F. &. Bar.Thonn.^ 445 Fordyce D. Robert (2. Willm D. F &. Christina Horn.) 446 Fordyce D. Sidney Agnes (L.G. Sir J. F.&.P.Grahann) 447 Fordyce D. Sophia (4. Capt. Alex D.F. &. Bar. Thorn) b loOdlober 1S50, m Alexander Taylor Innes 18 August 1880, 'AvaXd 1 7 July 1881. 448 FordyceD. Sophia Eliz. (LG.SirJ.F.&M.LAIIeyne) m Dr Patrick JFrancis Bellevj H.E.L C, S, 449 Fordyce D. Thomas (6. Dr Arth. D. F. &. Jan. Morison:) Lieutenant & Adjutant Bengal Artillery ; 6 7 April 1 79 1 w 1 6 May 1819 Margaret Hopper (afterw.by re-marriage, Temfleton:) and dy Deceniber 181 9. FordyceD. Thomas (5. William D. F. &. Mar. Ritchie) h in 1805, and fl^same year. ^ FordyceD. William (1. Dr Arthur D.F. &. J. Morison:) of Techmuiry Abd. Advocate in Aberdeen : b Apr. 9 1776 ; w I September 1796 Margaret Ritchie,, and d 1 March 1831. 452 FordyceD. William (2. William D.F. &. M. Ritchie;) b 22 Sept. 1798 : merchant in Havre and latterly in Charleston S.C. ^^ there unm. 13 April 1839. 453 Fordyce D. William (3. Alex. D. F. &. M. Dingwall :) b II December 1820, (/4May 1821. 450 45' ■I 42 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. (( said the ghool, taking up a large bag of rico ; " a man of your prowess must have a tolerable appetite." " True," said Ameen, " but I ate a sheep and as much rice as you have there before I proceeded on my journey. I am, consequently, not hungry, but will take a little lest I offend your hospitality." " I must boil it for you," said the demon ; " you do not eat grain and meat raw, as we do. Here is a kettle," said he, taking up one lying amongst the plundered property. " I will go and get wood for a fire, while you fetch water with that," pointing to a bag made of the hides of six oxen. Ameen waited till he saw his host leave the cave for the wood, and then with great difficulty he dragged the enormous bag to the bank of a dark stream, which issued from the rocks at the other end of the cavern, and, after being visible for a few yards, disappeared underground. " How shall I," thought Ameen, " prevent my weakness being discovered 1 This bag I could hardly manage when empty ; when full, it would require twenty strong men to carry it ; what shall I do ] I shall certainly be eaten up by this cannibal ghool, who is now only kept in order by the impression of my great strength." After some minutes' reflection the Isfahanee thought of a scheme, and began digging a small channel from the stream towards the place where his supper was preparing. " What are you doing 1 " vociferated the ghool, as AMEEN AND THE GHOOL. 43 he advanced towards him ; " I sent you for water to boil a little rice, and you have been an hour about it. Cannot you fill the bag and bring it away 1 " " Certainly I can," said Ameen ; " if I were content, after all your kindness, to show my gratitude merely by feats of brute strength, I could lift your stream if you had a bag large enough to hold it. But here," said he, pointing to the channel he had begun, — " here is the commencement of a work in which the mind of a man is employed to lessen the labour of his body. This canal, small as it may appear, will carry a stream to the other end of the cave, in which I will construct a dam that you can open and shut at pleasure, and thereby save yourself infinite trouble in fetching water. But pray let me alone till it is finished," and he began to dig. " Nonsense ! " said the ghool, seizing the bag and filling it ; "I will carry the water myself, and I advise you to leave off your canal, as you call it, and follow me, that you may eat your supper and go to sleep ; you may finish this fine work, if you like it, to-morrow morning." Ameen congratulated himself on this escape, and was not slow in taking the advice of his host. After having ate heartily of the supper that was prepared, he went to repose on a bed made of the richest coverlets and pillows, which were taken from one of the store-rooms of plundered goods. The ghool, who, e bed was also in the cave, had no sooner 44 ORIENTAL FOLKLOUK TALKS. laid down tliau he fell into a sound sleep. The anxiety of Ameen's mind prevented him from following his example ; he rose gently, and having stuffed a long pillow into the middle of his bed, to make it appear as if he was still there, he retired to a concealed place in the cavern to watch the proceedings of the ghool. The latter awoke a short time before daylight, and rising, went, without making any noise, towards Ameen's bed, where, not observing the least stir, he was satisfied that his guest was in a deep sleep ; so he took up one of his walking-sticks, which was in size like the trunk of a tree, and struck a terrible blow at what he sup- posed to be Ameen's head. He smiled not to hear a groan, thinking he had deprived him of life ; but to make sure of his work, he repeated the blow seven times. He then returned to rest, but had hardly settled himself to sleep, when Ameen, who had crept into the bed, raised his head above the clothes and exclaimed, " Friend ghool, what insect could it be that has disturbed me by its tapping ? I counted the flap of its little wings seven times on the coverlet. These vermin are very annoying, for, though they cannot hurt a man, they disturb his rest ! " The ghool's dismay on hearing Ameen speak at all was great, but that was increased to perfect fright whrn he heard him describe seven blows, any one of which would have felled an elephant, as seven flaps AMEEN AND THE OIIOOL. 46 of an insect's wing. There was no safety, he thought, near so wonderful a man, and ho soon afterwards arose and fled from the cave, leaving the Isfahance its sole master. When Ameen found his host gone, he was at no loss to conjecture the cause, and immediately began to survey the treasures with which he was sur- rounded, and to contrive means for removing them to his home. After examining the contents of the cave, and arming himself with a matchlock, which had belonged to some victim of the ghool, he proceeded to survey the road. He had, however, only gone a short distance when he saw the ghool returning with a large club in his hand, and accompanied by a fox. Ameen's knowledge of the cunning animal instantly led him to suspect that it had undeceived his enemy, but his presence of mind did not forsake him. "Take that," said he to the fox, aiming a ball at him from his matchlock, and shooting him through the head, — " Take that for your not perform- ing my orders. That brute," said he, " promised to bring me seven gliools, that I might chain them, and carry them to Isfahan, and here he has only brought you, who are already my slave." So saying, he advanced towards the ghool ; but the latter had already taken to flight, and by the aid of his club bounded so rapidly over rocks and precipices that he was soon out of sight. ill 46 ORIENTAL FOLKLOEE TALES. i\ Ameen having well marked the path from the cavern to the road, went to the nearest town and hired camels and mules to remove the property he had acquired. After making restitution to all who remained alive to prove their goods, he became, from what was unclaimed, a man of wealth, all of which was owing to that wit and art which ever overcome brute strength and courage. le id le 10 tn ;h le THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. Glorified Nangasuna Garbi ! thou art radiant within and witliout ; the holy vessel of sublimity, the fathomer of concealed thoughts, the second of instructors, I bow before thee. What wonderful adventures fell to the lot of Nangasuna, and to the peaceful wandering Chan, and how instructive and learned the Ssidi will be found, all this is developed in thirteen pleasing narratives. And I will first relate the origin of these tales : — In the central kingdom of India there once lived seven brothers, who were magicians ; and one berren (a measure of distance) further dwelt two brothers, who were sons of a Chan. Now the eldest of these sons of the Chan betook himself to the magicians, that he might learn their art -, but although he studied under them for seven years, yet the magicians taught him not the true key to magic. And once upon a time it happened that the youngest brother, going to bring food to the elder, peeped through the opening of the door, and obtained the key to magic. Thereupon, without 47 'if! '■^Mlil/.fXi'i'MS'*': • , T il 48 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. m II delivering to the elder the food which he had brought for him, he returned home to the palace. Then said the younger son of the Chan to his brother, " That we have learned magic, let us keep to ourselves. We have in the stable a beautiful horse ; take this horse, and ride not with him near the dwelling-place of the magicians, but sell the horse in their country, and bring back merchan- dise." And when he had said thus, he changed himself into a horse. But the elder son of the Chan heeded not the words of his brother, but said unto himself : " Full seven years have I studied magic, and as yet have learned nothing. Where, then, has my young brother found so beautiful a horse 1 and how can I refuse to ride thereon 1 " With these words he mounted, but the horse being impelled by the power of magic was not to be restrained, galloped away to the dwelling-place of the magicians, and could not be got from the door. " Well, then, I will sell the horse to the magicians." Thus thinking to himself, the elder called out to the magicians, "Saw ye ever a horse like unto this? My younger brother it was who found him." At these words the magicians communed with one another. " This is a magic horse ; if magic grow at all common, there will be no wonderful art remain- ing. Let us, therefore, take this horse and slay him." II ,/-.^ THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 49 ns. the Ills'? At one at iin- ilav The magicians paid the price demanded for the horse, and tied him in a stall ; and that he might not escape out of their hands, they fastened him, ready for slaughter, by the liead, by the tail, and by the feet. " Ah ! " thought the horse to himself, '' my elder brother hearkened not unto me, and therefore am I fallen into such hands. What form shall I assume ? " While the horse was thus considering, he saw a fish swim by him in the water, and immediately he changed himself into a fish. But the seven magicians became seven herons, and pursued the fish, and vrere on the point of catching it, when it looked up and beheld a dove in the sky, and thereupon tranBfAnned itself into a dove. The seven magicians now became seven hawks, and followed the dove over mountains and rivers, and would certainly have seized upon it, but the dove, flying eastwards to the peaceful cave in the rock Gulumtschi, concealed itself in the bosom of Nangasuna Baktschi (the Instructor). Then the seven hawks became seven beggars, and drew nigh unto the rock Gulumtschi. "What may this import?" bethought the Baktschi to himself, "that this dove has fled hither pursued by seven hawks 1 " Thus thinking, the Baktschi said, " Wherefore, dove, fliest thou hither in such alarm 1 " Then the dove related to him the cause of its flight, and spake afterwards as follows : — " At the entrance to the Oriental. -.^ 50 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 1 1! I'i: rock Gulumtschi siand seven beggars, and they will come to the Baktschi and say, ' We pray thee give us the rosary of the Baktschi 1 ' Then will I trans- form myself into the Biimba of the rosary ; let the Baktschi then vouchsafe to take this Bumba into his mouth and to cast the rosary from him." Hereupon the seven beggars drew nigh, and the Baktschi took the first bead into his mouth and the rest he cast from him. The beads which were cast away then became worms, and the seven beggars became fowls and ate up the worms. Then the Baktschi let the first bead fall from his moirth, and thereupon the first bead was transformed into a man with a sword in his hand. When the seven fowls were slain and become human corses, the Baktschi was troubled in his soul, and said these words, "Through my having preserved one single man have seven been slain. Of a verity this is not good.'' To these words the other replied, " I am the Son of a Chan. Since, therefore, through the preservation of my life, several others have lost their lives, I will, to cleanse me from my sins, and also to reward the Baktschi, execute whatsoever he shall command me." The Baktschi replied thereto, "Now, then, in the cold Forest of Death there abides Ssidi Kur ; the upper part of his body is decked with gold, the lower is of brass, his head is covered with silver. Seize him and hold him fast. Whosoever finds this n THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 51 >» of tion rill, Ithe le. Ithe Ithe ithe vev. this wonderful Ssidi Kur, him will I make for a thousand years a man upon the earth." Thus spake he, and the youth thereupon began these Avords : *' The way which I must take, the food which I require, the means which I must employ, all these vouchsafe to make known unto me." To this the Baktschi replied, " It shall be as thou demandest. At the distance of a berren (a measure of distance) from this place you will come to a gloomy forest, through which you will find there runs only one narrow path. The place is full of spirits. When thou reachest the spirits, they will throng around you ; then cry ye with a loud voice, ' Spirits, chu lu chu lu ssochi ! ' And when thou hast spoken these words, they will all be scattered like grain. When thou hast proceeded a little further, you will encounter a crowd of other spirits ; then cry ye, ' Spirits, chu lu chu lu ssosi ! ' And a little further on you will behold a crowd of child- spirits : say unto these, * Child-spirits, Ri ra pa dra ! ' In the middle of this wood sits Ssidi Kur, beside an amiri-tree. When he beholds you, he will climb up it, but you must take the moon-axe, with furious gestures draw nigh unto the tree, and bid Ssidi Kur descend. To bring him away you will require this sack, which would hold a hundred men. To bind him fast this hundred fathoms of checkered rope will serve you. This inexhaustible cake will furnish thee with provender for thy journey. When fl'. 52 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. thou hast got thy load uiDon thy back, wander then on without speaking, until thou art returned home again. Thy name is Son of the Chan ; and since thou hast reached the peaceful rock Gulumtschi, thou shalt be called the peaceful wandering Son of the Chan." Thus spake the Baktschi, and showed him the way of expiation. When Ssidi Kur beheld his pursuer, he speedily climbed up the amiri-tree, but the Son of the Chan drew nigh unto the foot of the tree, and spake with threatening words : " My Baktschi is Nangasuna Garbi; mine axe is called the white moon ; an inexhaustible cake is m.y pro- vender. This sack, capable of holding a hundred men, will serve to carry thee away, this hundred fathoms of rope will serve to bind thee fast ; I my- self am the peaceful wandering Son of the Chan. Descend, or I will hew down the tree." Then spake Ssidi Kur, " Do not hew down the tree ; I will descend from it." And when he had descended, the Son of the Chan thrust him into the sack, tied the sack fast with the rope, ate of the butter-cake, and wandered forth many days with his burden. At length Ssidi Kur said to the Son of the Chan, "Since our long journey is wearisome unto us, I will tell a story unto you, or do you relate one unto me." The Son of the Chan kept on his way, however, without speaking a word, and Ssidi began afresh, THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUK. 53 " If thou wilt tell a story, nod your head to me ; if I shall relate one, then do you shake your heac'." But because the Son of the Clian shook his head from side to side, without uttering a word, Ssidi began the following tale : — the Uian the forth Kur long unto The Adventures of the Rich Youth. " In former times there lived, in a great kingdom, a rich youth, a calculator, a mechanic, a painter, a physician, and a smith, and they all departed from their parents and went forth into a foreign land. When they at length arrived at the mouth of a great river, they planted, every one of them, a tree of life ; and each of them, following one of the sources of the river, set forth to seek their fortunes. ' Here,' said they to one another, — ' here will we meet again. Should, however, any one of us be missing, and his tree of life be withered, we will search for him in the place whither he went to.' " Thus they agreed, and separated one from another. And the rich youth found at the source of the stream, which he had followed, a pleasure- garden with a house, in the entrance to which were seated an old man and an old woman. ' Good youth,' exclaimed they both, 'whence comest thou— whither goest thou 1 ' The youth replied, * I come from a distant country, and am going to seek my fortune.' And the old couple said unto him, ' It is v^ 54 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. well thou hast come hither. We have a daughter, slender of shape and pleasant of behaviour. Take her, and be a son unto us ! ' "And when they had so spoken, the daughter made her appearance. And when the youth beheld her, he thought unto himself, ' It is well I left my father and my mother. This maiden is more beau- teous than a daughter of the Tdngari (god-like spirits of the male and female sex). I will take the maiden and dwell here.' And the maiden said, 'Youth, it is well that thou camest here.' Thereupon they conversed together, went together into the house, and lived peacefully and happily. " Now, over the same country there reigned a mighty Chan. And once iii the spring-time, when his servants went forth together to bathe, they found, near the mouth of the river, in the water, a pair of costly earrings, which belonged to the wife of the rich youth. Because, therefore, these jewels were so wondrously beautiful, they carried them to the Chan, who, being greatly surprised thereat, said unto his servants, 'Dwells there at the source of the river a woman such as these belong to ? Go, and bring her unto me.' "The servants went accordingly, beheld the woman, and were amazed at the sight. 'This woman,' said they to one another, * one would never tire of beholding.' But to the woman they said, 'Arise ! and draw nigh with us unto the Chan/ KT THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 66 " Hereupon the rich youth conducted his wife to the presence of the Chan ; but the Chan, when he beheld her, exclaimed, * This maiden is a Tangari, compared with her, my wives are but ugly.' Thus spake he, and he was so smitten with love of her, that he would not let her depart from his house. But as she remained true and faithful to the rich youth, the Chan said unto his servants, ' Eemove this rich youth instantly out of my sight.' "At these commands the servants went forth, taking with them the rich youth, whom they led to the water, where they laid him in a pit by the side of the stream, covered liim with a huge fragment of the rock, and thus slew him. " At length it happened that the other wanderers returned from all sides, each to his tree of life ; and when the rich youth was missed, and they saw that his tree of life was withered, they sought him up the source of the river which he had followed, but found him not. Hereupon the reckoner discovered, by his calculations, that the rich youth was lying dead under a piece of the rock ; but as they could by no means remove the stone, the smith took his hammer, smote the stone, and drew out the body. Then the physician mixed a life-inspiring draught, gave the same to the dead youth, and so restored him to life. " They now demanded of him whom they had recalled to life, * In what manner wert thou slain 1 ' • f ■■ 56 ORIENTAL FOLKLOllE TALES. l!i! I Ke accordingly related unto them the circumstances ; and they communed one with another, saying, * Let us snatch this extraordinary beautiful woman from the Chan ! ' Thereupon the mechanic constructed a wooden gerudin, or wonderful bird, Avhich, when moved upwards from within, ascended into the air ; when moved downwards, descended into the earth ; when moved sideways, flew sideways accordingly. When this was done, they painted it with different colours, so that it was pleasant to behold. " Then the rich youth seated himself within the wooden bird, flew through the air, and hovered over the roof of the royal mansion ; and the Chan and his servants were astonished at the form of the bird, and said, * A bird like unto this we never before saw or heard of.' And to his wife the Chan said, * Go ye to the roof of the palace, and offer food of different kinds unto this strange bird.' When she went up to offer food, the bird descended, and the rich youth opened the door which was in the bird. Then said the wife of the Chan, full of joy, ' I had never hoped or thought to have seen thee again, yet now have I found thee once more. This has been accomplished by this wonderful bird.' After the youth had related to her all that had happened, he said unto her, ' Thou art now the wife of the Chan — but if your heart now yearns unto me, step thou into this wooden gerudin, and we will fly hence through the air, and for the future know care no more,' THE KELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 57 Ito " After these words the wife said, ' To the first husband to whom destiny united me am I inclined more than ever,' Having thus spoken they entered into the wooden gerudin, and ascended into the sky. The Chan beheld this, and said, * Because I sent thee up that thou mightest feed this beautiful bird, thou hast betaken thyself to the skies.' Thus spake he full of anger, and threw himself weeping on the ground. *• The rich youth now turned the peg in the bird downwards, and descended upon the earth close to his companions. And when he stepped forth out of the bird, his companions asked him, * Hast thou thoroughly accomplished all that thou didst desire 1 ' Thereupon his Avife also stepped forth, and all who beheld her became in love with her. 'You, my companions,' said the rich youth, ' have brought help unto me ; you have awakened me from death ; you have afforded me the means of once more finding my wife. Do not, I beseech you, rob me of my charmer once again.' " Thus spake ho ; and the calculator began with these words : — ' Had I not discovered by my calcula- tion where thou wert lying, thou wouldst never have recovered thy wife.' " ' In vain,' said the smith, * would the calculations have been, had I not drawn thee out of the rock. By means of the shattered rock it was that you obtained your wife. Then your wife belongs to me.' ■t T 58 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 1 1 " * A body,' said the physician, * was drawn from out of tho shattered rock. That this body was restored to life, and recovered his former wife, it was my skill accomplished it. I, therefore, should take the wife.' " 'But for the wooden bird,' said the mechanic, * no one would ever have reached the wife. A numerous host attend upon the Chan ; no one can approach the house wherein he resides. Through my wooden bird alone was the wife recovered. Let me, then, take her.' " ' The wife,' said the painter, * never would have carried food to a wooden bird ; therefore it was only through my skill in painting that she was recovered ; I, therefore, claim her.' *'And when they had thus spoken, they drew their knives and slew one another." " Alas ! poor woman ! " exclaimed the son of the Chan ; and Ssidi said, " Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words : — Ssarwala missbrod jackzang ! " Thus spake he, and burst from the sack through the air. Thus Ssidi's first tale treated of the adventures of the rich youth. The Adventures of the Beggar's Son. When the Son of the Chan arrived as before at the cold Forest of Death, he exclaimed with threat- ening gestures at the foot of the amiri-tree, " Thou dead one, descend, or I will hew down the tree." Ssidi descended. The son of Chan ]j)laced him in. THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUU. 59 in. the sack, bound the sack fast with the rope, ate of his provender, and journeyed fortli with his burden. Then spake the dead one these words, " Since we have a long journey before us, do you relate a pleasant story by the way, or I will do so." But the Son of the Chan merely shook his head without speaking a word. Whereupon Ssidi commenced the following tale : — " A long time ago there was a mighty Chan who was ruler over a country full of market-places. At the source of the river which ran through it there was an immense marsh, and in this marsh there dwelt two crocodile-frogs, who would not allow the water to run out of the marsh. And because there came no water over their fields, every year did both the good and the bad have cause to mourn, until such times as a man had been given to the frogs for the pests to devour. And at length the lot fell upon the Chan himself to be an offering to them, and needful as he was to the welfare of the king- dom, denial availed him not ; therefore father and son communed sorrowfully together, saying, ' Which of us two shall go 1 ' " I am an old man," said the father, " and shall leave no one to lament me. I will go, therefore. Do you remain here, my son, and reign according as it is appointed." " * Tangari,' exclaimed the son, ' verily this is not as it should be ! Thou hast brought me up with care, my father ! If the Chan and the wife 'I 60 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. ■1(1 Hi of the Chan remain, what need is there of their son ? I then will go, and be as a feast for the frogs.' " Thus spake he, and the people walked sorrow- fully round about him, and then betook themselves back again. Now the son of the Chan had foi his companion the son of a poor man, and he went to him and said, * Walk ye according to the will of your parents, and remain at home in peace and safety. I am going, for the good of the kingdom, to serve as a sacrifice to the frogs.' At these words the son of the poor man said, weeping and lamenting, * From my youth up, Chan, thou hast carefully fostered me, I will go with thee, and share thy fate." " Then they both arose and went unto the frogs ; and on the verge of the marsh they heard the yellow frog and the blue frog conversing with one another. And the frogs said, ' If the son of the Chan and his companion did but know that if they only smote off our heads with the sword, and the son of the Chan consumed me, the yellow frog, and the son of the poor man consumed thee, the blue frog, they would both cast out from their mouths gold and brass, then would the country be no longer compelled to find food for frogs.' " Now, because the son of the Chan understood all sorts of languages, he comprehended the discourse of the frogs, and he and his companion smote the heads of the frogs with their swords ; and when they had devoured the frogs, they threv/ out from THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 61 their mouths gold and brass at their heart's pleasure. Then said the wanderers, ' The frogs are both slain — the course of the waters will be hemmed in no more. Let us then turn back unto our own country.' But the son of the Chan agreed not to this, and said, ' Let us not turn back into our own country, lest they say they are become spirits ; therefore it is better that Ave journey further.' " As they thereupon were walking over a moun- tain, they came to a tavern, in which dwelt two women, beautiful to behold — mother and daughter. Then said they, ' We would buy strong liquor that we might drink.' The women replied, ' What have je to give in exchange for strong liquor?' There- upon each of them threw forth gold and brass, and the women found pleasure therein, admitted them into their dwelling, gave them liquor in abundance, until they became stupid and slept, took from them what they had, and then turned them out of doors.' " Now when they awoke the son of the Chan and his companion travelled along a river and arrived in a wood, where they found some children quarrel- ling one with another. * Wherefore,' inquired they, * do you thus dispute 1 ' " * We have,' said the children, * found a cap in this wood, and every one desires to possess it.' " * Of what use is the cap 1 ' " * The cap has this wonderful property, that whosoever places it on his head can be seen neither n I 17 62 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. f ^1 by the T^ngari, nor by men, nor by the Tschadkurrs ' (evil spirits). " * Now go all of ye to the end of the forest and run hither, and I will in the meanwhile keep the cap, and give it to the first of you who reaches me.' "Thus spoke the son of the Ciian ; and the chil- dren ran, but they found not the cap, for it was upon the head of the Chan. ' Even now it v/as here,' said they, 'and row it is gone.' And after they had sought for it, bub without finding it, thoy went away weeping. "And the son of the Chan and his companion travelled onwards, and at last they came to a forest in which they found a body of Tschadkurrs quar- relling one with another, and they said, ' Wherefore do ye thus quarrel one with another 1 ' " * I,' exclaimed each of them, ' have made my- self master of these boots.' " ' Of what use are these boots 1 ' inquired the son of the Chan. " ' He who wears these boots,' replied the Tschad- kurrs, ' is conveyed to any country wherein he wishes himself.' " ' Now,' answered the son of the Chan, * go all of you that way, and he who first runs hither shall obtain the boots.' " And the Tschadkurrs, when they heard these words, ran as they were told ; but the son of the Chan THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUII. 63 had concealed the boots in the bosom of his com- panion, who had the cap upon his head. And the Tschadkurrs saw the boots no more ; they sought them in vain, and went their way. " And when they were gone, the prince and his companion drew on each of them one of the boots, and they wished themselves near the place of election in a Chan's kingdom. They wished their journey, laid themselves down to sleep, and on their awak- ing in the morning they found themselves in the hollow of a tree, right in the centre of the imperial place of election. It was, moreover, a day for the assembling of the people, to throw a Baling (a sacred figure of dough or paste) under the guidance of the Tangari. * Upon whose head even the Baling falls, he shall be our Chan.' Thus spake they as they threw it up ; but the tree caught the Baling of Destiny. * What means this 1 ' exclaimed they all with one accord. * Shall we have a tree for our Chan ? ' " ' Let us examine,' cried they one to another, 'whether the tree concealeth any stranger.' And when they approached the tree the son of the Chan and his companion stepped forth. But the people stood yet in doubt, and said one to another thus, ' Whoso- ever ruleth over the people of this land, this shall be deciaed to-morrow morning by what proceedeth from their mouths.* And when they had thus spoken, they all took their departure. r-fr ». ! n !/ 64 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. ,1!!^ I "On the following morning some drank water, and what they threw from their mouths was white ; others ate grass, and what they threw from their mouths was green. In short, one threw one thing, and another another thing. But because the son of the Chan and his companion cast out from their mouths gold and brass, the people cried, * Let the one be Chan of this people — let the other be his mhiister.' Thus were they nominated Chan and minister ! And the daughter of the former Chan was appointed the wife of the new Char. " Now in the neighbourhood of tlie palace v/herein the Chan dwelt was a lofty building, whither the wife of the Chan betook herself every day. * Where- fore,' thought the minister, 'does the wife of the Chan betake lieiself to this spot every day 1 ' Thus thinking, he placed the wonderful cap upon his head, and followed the Chan's wife through the open doors, up one step after another, up to the roof. Here the wife of the Chan gathered together silken coverlets and pillows, made ready various drinks and delicate meats, and burnt for their perfume tapers and frankincense. The minister being concealed by his cap, which made him invisible, seated himself by the side of the Chan's wife, and looked around on every side. " Shortly afterwards a beautiful bird swept through the sky. The wife of the Chan received it with fragrance-giving tapers. The bird seated itself THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR, 65 upon the roof and twittered with a pleasing voice ; but out of the bird came Solangdu, the Son of the Tingari, whose beauty was incomparable, and he laid himself on the silken coverlets and fed of the dainties prepared for him. Then spake the son of the Tang^ri, ' Thou hast passed this morning with the husband whom thy fate has allotted to thee. What thinkest thou of him ? ' The wife of the Chan answered, ' I know too little of the prince to speak of his good qualities or his defects.' Thus passed the day, and the wife of the Chan returned home again. " On the following day the minister followed the wife of the Chan as he had done before, and heard the son of the Tangari say unto her, ' To-morrow I will come like a bird of Paradise to see thine husband.' And the wife of the Chan said, 'Be it so.' " The day passed over, and the minister said to the Chan, 'In yonder palace lives Solangdu, the beauteous son of the Tangari.' The minister then related all that he had witnessed, and said, ' To- morrow early the son of the Tangari will seek thee, disguised like a bird of Paradise. I will seize the bird by the tail, and cast him into the fire ; but you must smite him in pieces with the sword.' " On the following morning, the Chan and the wife of the Chan were seated together, when the son of the Tangari, transformed into a bird of ^ if ' Oriental. B i i i i 66 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. Paradise, appeared before them on the steps that led to the palace. The wife of the Chan greeted the bird with looks expressive of pleasure, but the minister, who had on his invisible-making cap, seized the bird suddenly by the tail, and cast him into the fire. And the Chan smote at him violently with his sword ; but the wife of the Chan seized the hand of her husband, so that only the wings of the bird were scorched. * Alas, poor bird ! * ex- claimed the wife of the Chan, as, half dead, it made its way, as well as it could, through the air. " On the next morning the wife of the Chan went as usual to the lofty building, and this time, too, did the minister follow her. She collected to- gether, as usual, the silken pillows, but waited longer than she was wont, and sat watching with staring eyes. At length the bird approached with a very slovj flight, and came down from the bird- house covered with blood and wounds, and the wife of the Chan wept at the sight. * Weep not,' said the son of the Tangfiri ; * thine husband has a heavy hand. The fire has so scorched me that I can never come more.' • "Thus spoke he, and the wife of the Chan re- plied, ' Do not say so, but come as you are wont to do, at least come on the day of the full moon.' Then the son of the T^ug^ri flew up to the sky again, and the wife of the Chan began from that time to love her husband with her whole heart. ill THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. G7 re- It to |)on.' sky Ithat "Then the minister pkced his wonderful cap upon his head, and, drawing near to a pagoda, he saw, through the crevice of the door, a man, who spread out a figure of an ass, rolled himself over and over upon the figure, thereupon took upon him- self the form of an ass, and ran up and down bray- ing like one. Then he began rolling afresh, and appeared in his human form. At last he folded up the paper, and placed it in the hand of a burchan (a Calmuc idol). And when the man came out the minister went in, procured the paper, and remem- bering the ill-treatment which he had formerly re- ceived, he went to the mother and daughter who had sold him the strong liquor, and said, with crafty words, ' I am come to you to reward you for your good deeds.' With these words he gave the women three pieces of gold ; and the women asked him, saying, * Thou art, indeed, an honest man, but where did you procure so much gold ? ' Then the minister answered, * By merely rolling backwards and forwards over this paper did I procure this gold.' On hearing these words, the women said, * Grant us that we too may roll upon it.' And they did so, and were changed into asses. And the minister brought the asses to the Chan, and the Chan said, 'Let them be employed in carrying stones and earth.' " Thus spake he, and for three years were these two asses compelled to carry stones and earth ; and i r ir 68 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. their backs were sore wounded, arxd covered with bruises. Then saw the Chan their eyes filled with tears, and he said to the minister, 'Torment the poor brutes no longer.' " Thereupon they rolled upon the paper, and after they had done so they were changed to two shrivelled women." " Poor creatures!" exclaimed the Son of the Chan. Ssidi replied, " Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words : Ssarwala missdood jakzank ! " Thus spoke he, and flew out of the sack through the air. And Ssidi's second relation treats of the adven- tures of the Poor Man's Son. The Adventures of Massang. When the Son of the Chan arrived at the foot of the amiri-tree, and spoke as he had formerly done, Ssidi approached him, suffered himself to be placed in the sack, fastened with the rope, and carried away. Ssidi spoke as before, but the Son of the Chan shook his head, whereupon Ssidi began as follows : — " A long time ago there lived in a certain country a poor man, who had nothing in the world but one cow ; and because there was no chance of the cow's calving, he was sore grieved, and said, 'If my cow does not have a calf, I shall have no more milk, and T must then die of hunger and thirst.' a THE RELATIONS OF SSIIJI KUR. 69 "But when a certain number of moons had passed, instead of the calf the poor man had looked for he found a man with horns, and with a long tail like a cow. And at the sight of this monster the owner of the beast was filled with vexation, and he lifted up his staff to kill him ; but the horned man said, ' Kill me not, father, and your mercy shall be rewarded.' "And with these words he retreated into the depth of a forest, and there he found among the trees a man of sable hue. * Who art thou ] ' in- quired Massang the horned. ' I was born of the forest,' was the reply, ' and am called Iddar. I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest.' " And they journeyed forth together, and at last they reached a thickly-covered grassy plain, nnd there they beheld a green man. * Who art thou 1 ' inquired they. * I was born of the grass,' replied the green man, ' and will bear thee company.' "Thereupon they all three journeyed forth to- gether, until they came to a sedgy marsh, and there they found a white man. * Who art thou 1 ' in- quired they. ' I was born of the sedges,' replied the white man, ' and will bear thee company.' "Thereupon they all four journeyed forth to- gether, until they reached a desert country, where, in the very depths of the mountain, they found a hut; and because they found plenty both to eat and to drink in the hut, they abode there. Every 70 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. day three of them went out hunting, and left the fourth in charge of the hut. On the first day, Iddar, the Son of the Forest, remained in the hut, and was busied preparing milk, and cooking meat for his companions, when a little old woman put up the ladder and came in at the door. * Who 's there'?' exclaimed Iddar, and, upon looking round, he beheld an old woman about a span high, who carried on her back a little sack. ' Oh, what, there is somebody sitting tliere?' said the old woman, ' and you are cooking meat ; let me, I beseech you, taste a little milk and a little meat.* " And though she merely tasted a little of each, the whole of the food disappeared. AVhen the old woman thereupon took her departure, the Son of the Forest was ashamed that the food had disap- peared, and he arose and looked out of the hut. And as he chanced to perceive two hoofs of a horse, he made with them a number of horse's footmarks around the dwelling, and shot an arrow into the court ; and when the hunters returned home and inquired of him, ' Where is the milk and the fatted meat 1 ' he answered them, saying, * There came a hundred horsemen, who pressed their way into the house, and took the milk and the flesh, and they have beaten me almost to death. Go ye out, and look around.' And his companions went out when they heard these wjrds, looked around, saw the prints of the horses' feet and the arrow which he THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUIl. 71 pen Ithe he himself had shot, and said, 'The words which he spoke are true.' " On the following day the Son of the Grass remained at home in the hut, and it befell him as it had befallen his companion on the previous day. But because he perceived the feet of two bullocks, he made with them the marks of the feet of many bullocks around the dwelling, and said to his com- panions, 'There came a hundred people with laden bullocks, and robbed me of the food I had j^repared for you.' " Thus spake he falsely. On the third day the Son of the Sedges remained at home in the hut, and because he met with no better fortune, he made, with a couple of the feet of a mule, a number of prints of mules' feet around the dwelling, and said to his companions, ' A hundred men with laden mules surrounded the house, and robbed me of the food I had prepared for you.' " Thus spake he falsely. On the following day Massang remained at home in the hut, and as he was sitting preparing milk and flesh for his companions, the little old woman stepped in as before and said, 'Oh, so there is somebody here this time ? Let me, I pray you, taste a little of the milk and a little of the meat.' At these words Massang considered, ' Of a certainty this old woman has been here before. If I do what she requires of me, how do I know that there will be any left?' And having thus 72 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. ! ni: 11: "1 ») iilli considered, he said to the old woman, * Old woman, before thou tastest food, fetch me some water.' Thus spoke he, giving her a bucket, of which the bottom was drilled full of holes, to fetch water in. When the old woman was gone, Massang looked after her, and found that the span-high old woman, reaching now up to the skies, drew the bucket full of water again and again, but that none of the water remained in it. While she was thus occupied, Massang peeped into the little sack which she carried on her shoulders, and took out of it a coil of rope, an iron hammer, and a pair of iron pincers, and put in their place some very rotten cords, a wooden hammer, and w^ooden pincers. " He had scarcely done so before the old woman returned, saying, ' I cannot draw water in your bucket. If you will not give me a little of your food to taste, let us try our strength against each other.' Then the old woman drew forth the coil of rotten cords, and bound Massang with them, but Massang put forth his strength and burst the cords asunder. But when Massang had bound the old woman with her own coil, and deprived her of all power of motion, she said unto him, ' Herein thou hast gotten the victory ; now let us pinch each other with the pincers.' " Whereupon Massang nipped hold of a piece of the old woman's flesh as big as one's head, and tore it forcibly from her. ' Indeed, youth,' cried the old 11 I If THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 73 woman, sighing, 'but thou hast gotten a hand of stouG ; now let us hammer away at each other 1 ' " So saying, she smote Massang with the wooden hammer on his breast, but the hammer flew from the handle, and Massang was left without a wound. Then drew Massang the iron hamuier out of the fire, and smote the old woman with it in such wise that she fled from the hut crying and wounded. " Shortly after this, the three companions returned home, ami said to Massang, ' Now, Massang, thou hast surely had something to sufl'or ? ' But Massang replied, * Ye are all cowardly fellows, and have uttered lies ; I have paid off the old woman. Arise, and let us follow her 1 * " At these words they arose, followed her by the traces of her blood, and at length reached a gloomy pit in a rock. At the bottom of this pit there were ten double circular pillars, and on the ground lay the corpse of the old woman, among gold, brass, and armour, and other costly things. * Will you three descend,' said Massang, ' and then pack together the costly things, and I will draw them up, or I will pack them, and you shall draw them out.' But the three companions said, * We will not go down into the cavern, for of a verity the old woman is a Schumnu ' (a witch). But Massang, without being dispirited, allowed himself to be let down into the cavern, and collected the valuables, which were then drawn forth by his companions. Then I i' 74 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. i' I his companions spoke with one another, saying, 'If we draw ibrth Massang, ho will surely take all these treasures to himself. It were better, then, that we should carry away these treasures, and leave Massang behind in the cavern ! ' " When Massang noticed that his three companions treated him thus ungratefully, he looked about the cavern in search of food, but between the pillars he found xiothing but some pieces of bark. Thereupon Massang planted the bark in the earth, nourished it as best he might, and said, 'If I am a true Massang, then from this bark let there grow forth three great trees. If I am not, then shall T (Jie here in this pit.' " After these enchanting words, be laid himself down, but from his having come in contact with the corse of the old woman, he slept for many years. When he awoke, he found three great trees which reached to the mouth of the pit. Joyfully clambered be up and betook himself to the hut, which was in the n*:)ighbourhood. But, because there was no longer any one to be found therein, he took his iron bow and his arrows, and set forth in search of his companions. These had built themselves houses and taken wives. 'Where are your husbands?' inquired Massang of their wives. 'Our husbands are gone to the cliase/ replied they. Then Massang took arrow and bow, and set forth. His companions were returning from the chase with venison, and THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 75 when they beheld Massang with arrow and how, they cried, as with one accord, 'Thou art the well-skilled one ! take thou our wives and pro- perty, we will now wander forth further ! ' At these words Massang said, * Your behaviour was certainly not what it should have been; but I am going to reward my father — live on, therefui.', as before.' " By the way Massang discovered a brook, and out of the brook arose a beautiful maiden. The maiden went her way, and flov/ers arose out of her footsteps. Massang followed the maiden until he arrived in heaven, and when he was coptii there, Churmusta Tangari (the Protector of the Earth) said unto him, ' It is well that thou art come hither, Massang. We have daily to fight with the iiost of Schumnu (witches). To-morrow look around ; after to-morrow be companion unto us.' " On the following day, when the white host were sore pressed by the black, Churmusta spake unto Massang : ' The Avhite host are the host of the Tangari, the black are the host of the Schumnu. To-day the Tangari will be pressed by the Schumnu ; draw, therefore, thy bow, and send an arrow into the eye of the leader of the black host.' Then Massang aimed at the eye of the leader of the black host, and smote him, f,o that he fled with a mighty cry. Then spake Churmusta to Massang, " Thy deed is deserving of reward ; henceforward dwell with us I ', I M 76 OllIENTAL FOLKLOIIE TALES. I \m ii'iii for ever.' But Massang rei)lied, ' I go to reward my father.' "Hereupon Churmusta presented to Massang, Dscliindamani, the wonder-stone of the Gods, and said unto him, * By a narrow circuitous path you will reach the cave of the Schumnu. Go without fear or trembling therein. Knock at the door and say, " I am the human physician." They will then lead thee to the Schumnu Chan, that you may draw out the arrow from his eyes ; then lay hands upon the arrow, scatter seven sorts of grain towards heaven, and drive the arrow yet deeper into his head.' "Thus spake Churmusta authoritatively, and Massang obeyed his commands ; reached, without erring, the cavern of the Schumnu, and knocked at the door. ' What hast thou learned 1 ' inquired the woman. *I am a physician,' answered Massang; and he was conducted into the building. He ex- amined the wound of the Chan, and laid hands upon the arrow. ' Already,' said the Chan, * my wound feels better.' But Massang suddenly drove the arrow further into the head, scattered the seven grains towards heaven, and a chain fell clattering from heaven down to earth. " But while Massang was preparing to lay hands upon the chain, the Schumnu woman smote him with an iron hammer with such force, that from the blow there sprang forth seven stars." THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUK. 77 " Then," said the Son of the Chan, " he was not able to reward his father." " Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words ! Ssarwala missdood jonkzang." Thus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air. Thus Ssidi's third relation treats of the adventures of Massang. The Magician with the Swine's Head. When tlie Son of the Chan had, as before, seized upon Ssidi, and was carrying him away, Ssidi spoke as formerly, but the Son of the Chan shook his head, without uttering a word, and Ssidi began the following relation : — " A long while since there lived in a happy country a man and a woman. The man had many bad qualities, .and cared for nothing but eating, drinking, and sleeping. At last his wife said unto him, ' By thy mode of life thou hast wasted all thine inherit- ance. Arise thee, then, from thy bed, and while I am in the fields, go you out and look about you ! ' "As he, therefore, according to these words, was looking about him, he saw a multitude of people pass behind the pagoda with their herds; and birds, foxes, and dogs crowding and noising together around a particular spot. Thither he went, and there found a bladder of butter ; so he took it home ^ I 1 If' ii Hill 78 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. and placed it upon the shelf. When his wife returned and saw the bladder of butter upon the shelf, she asked, * Where found you this bladder of butter 1 ' To this he replied, ' I did according to your word, and found this.' Then said the woman ' Thou went out but for an instant, and hast already found thus much.' "Then the man determined to display his abilities, and said, ' Procure me then a horse, some clothes, and a bloodhound.' The wife provided them accordingly ; and the man taking with him, besides these, his bow, cap, and mantle, seated him- self on horseback, led the hound in a leash, and rode forth at random. After he had crossed over several rivers he espied a fox. ' Ah,' thought he, ' that would serve my wife for a cap.' " So saying, he pursued the fox, and when it fled into a hamster's hole, the man got off his horse, placed his bow, arrows, and clothes upon the saddle, fastened the bloodhound to the bridle, and covered the mouth of the hole with his cap. Tho r^^xt thing he did was to take a large stone, and hammer over the hole v ith it ; this frightened the fox, which ran out and fled with the cap upon its head. The hound followed the fox, and drew the horse along with it, so tliat they both vanished in an instant, and the man was left without any clothes. After he had turned back a long way, he reached the country of a mighty Chan, entered the Chan'.s 1 1 THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 79 dlo, 3red luci ong lant, Ihed stable, and concealed himself in a stack of hay, so that merely his eyes were left uncovered. Not long afterwards, the beloved of the Chan was walking out, and wishing to look at a favourite horse, she approached close to the hayrick, placed the talisman of life of the Chan's kingdom upon the ground, left it there, and returned back to the palace without recollecting it. The man saw the wonderful stone, but was too lazy to pick it up. At sunset the cows came by, and the stone was beaten into the ground. Some time afterwards a servant came and cleansed the place, and the wonderful stone was cast aside upon a heap. " On the following day the people were informed, by the beaming of the kettledrums, that the beloved of the Chan had lost the wonderful stone. At the same time, all the magicians and soothsayers and interj^reters of signs were summoned, and questioned upon the subject. On hearing this, the man in the hayrick crept out as far as his breast, and when the people thronged around him and asked, * What hast thou learned 1 ' he replied, * I am a magician.' On hearing these words they exclaimed, 'Because the wondrous stone of the Chan is missing, all the magicians in the country are summoned to appear before him. Do you then draw nigh unto the Chan.' The man said, ' I have no clothes.' Hereupon the whole crowd hastened to the Chan, and announced unto him thus : ' In the hayrick there lieth a ■'. :l 80 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. . I' ill I i magician who has no clothes. This magician would draw nigh unto you, but he has nought to appear in.* The Chan said, ' Send unto him this robe of cloth, and let him approach.' It was done. " The man was fetched, and after he had bowed down to the Chan, lie was asked what he needed for the performance of his magic charms. To this question he replied, 'For the performance of my magic charms, it is needful that I should have the head of a swine, some cloths of five colours, and some baling ' (a sacred figure of dough or paste). When all these things were prepared, the magician deposited the swine's head at the foot of a tree, dressed it with the cloths of five colours, fastened on the large baling, and passed the whole of three nights in meditation. On the day appointed, all the people assembled, and the magician having put on a great durga (cloak), placed himself, with the swine's head in his hand, in the street. When they were all assembled together, the magician, showing the swine's head, said, * Here not and there not.' All were gladdened at hearing these Avords. ' Be- cause, therefore,' said the magician, ' the wondeiiul stone is not to be found among the people, we must seek for it elsewhere.' " With these words the magician, still holding the swine's head in his hand, drew nigh unto the palace, and the Chan and his attendants followed him, singing songs of rejoicing. When, at last, the THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 81 ing lot.' le- lust [ing Ithe jv-ed Ithe magician arrived at the heap, he stood suddenly still, and exclaimed, ' There lies the wonderful stone.' Then, first removing some of the earth, he drew forth the stone, and cleansed it. * Thou art a mighty magician,' joyfully exclaimed all who beheld it. ' Thou art the master of magic with the swine's head. Lift up thyself that thou mayest receive thy reward.' The Chan said, 'Thy reward shall be whatsoever thou wilt.' The magician, who thought only of the property he had lost, said, ' Give imto me a horse, with saddle and bridle, a bow and arrows, a cap, a mantle, a hound, and a fox. Such things give unto me.* At these words the Chan exclaimed, ' Give him all that he desireth.' This was done, and the magician returned home with all that he desired, and with two elejihants, one carrying meat, and the other butter. " His wife met him close to his dwelling, with brandy for him to drink, and said, * Kow, indeed, thou art become a mighty man.' Thereupon they went into the house, and when they had laid them- selves down to sleep, the wife said to him, * Where hast thou found so much flesh and so much butter ? * Then her husband related to her circumstantially the whole affair, and she answered him saying 'Verily, thou art a stupid ass. To-morrow I will go with a letter to the Chan.' " The wife accordingly wrote a letter, and in the letter were the following words : — * Because it was Oriental, -, (S'Sii*saas8^?jaBSiiffi?37S^i;iSJi5i!3^ 82 ORIENTAL FOLKLOKE TALES. ;) I 1 known unto me that the lost wondrous stone retained some evil influence over the Chan, I have, for the obviating of that influence, desired of him the dog and the fox. What I may receive for my reward depends upon the pleasure of the Chan.' " The Chan read the letter through, and sent costly presents to the magician. And the magician lived pleasantly and happily. "Now in a neighbouring country there dwelt peven Chans, brethren. Once upon a time they betook themselves, for pastime, to an extensive forest, and there they discovered a beauteous maiden with a buffalo, and they asked, ' What are you two doing here 1 Whence come you 1 ' The maiden answered, ' I come from an eastern country, and am the daughter of a Chan. This buffalo accompanies me.' At these words these others replied, * We are the seven brethren of a Chan, and have no wife. Wilt thou be our wife 1 ' ^ The maiden answered, * So be it.' But the maiden and the buffalo were two Mangusch (a species of evil spirit IV.^ the Schumnu), and were seeking out men wliom they might devour. The male Mangusch was a buffalo, and the female, she who became wife to the brethren. " After the T\langusch had slain, yearly, one of the brethren of the Chan, there was only one re- ^ It is in accordance with the customs of Thibet for a woman of that country to have several husbands. THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUli. 83 m.iining. And because he was suffering from a hey Ithe of ire- jr a grievous sickness, the ministers consulted together and said, ' For the sickness of the other Chans wc have tried all means of cure, and yet have found no heljD, neither do we in this case know what to advise. But the magician with the swine's head dwells only two mountains oIF from us, and he is held in great estimation ; let us, without further delay, send for him to our assistance.' " Upon this four mounted messengers were de- spatched for the magician, and when they arrived at his dwelling, they made known to him the object of their mission. * I will,' said the magician, ' con- sider of this matter in the course of the night, and will tell you in the morning what is to be done.' *' During the night he related to his wife what was required of him, and his wife said, ' You are looked upon, up to this time, as a magician of extraordinary skill ; but from this time there is an end to your reputation. However, it cannot be helped, so go you must.' "On the following morning the magician said to the messengers, ' During the night-time I Inve pondered upon this master, and a good omen has presented itself to me in a dream. Let me not tarry any longer but ride forth to-day.' The magician, thereupon, equipped himself in a large cloak, bound his hair together on the crown of Lis head, carried in his left hand the rosary, and in his 1 84 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. i' right the swine's head, enveloped in the cloths of five colours. " When in this guise he presented himself before the dwelling-place of the Chan, the two Mangusch were sorely frightened, and thought to themselves, 'This man has quite the appearance, quite the countenance, of a man of learning.* Then the magician, first placing a baling on the pillow of the bed, lifted up the swine's head, and muttered certain magic words. " The wife of the Chan seeing this discontinued tormenting the soul of the Chan, and fled in all haste out of the room. The Chan, by this conduct being freed from the pains of sickness, sank into a sound sleep. ' What is this ? ' exclaimed the magi- cian, filled with aff'right. ' The disease has grown worse, the sick man uttereth not a sound ; the sick man hath departed.' Thus thinking, he cried, * Chan, Chan ! ' But because the Chan uttered no sound, the magician seized the swine's head, vanished through the door, and entered the treasure- chamber. No sooner had he done so, than * Thief, thief ! ' sounded in his ears, and the magician fled into the kitchen; but the cry of ' Stop that thief! stop that thief ! ' still followed him. Thus pursued the magician thought to himself, * This night it is of no use to think of getting away, so I will, there- fore, conceal myself in a corner of the stable.' Thus thinking, he opened the door, and there found a THE UELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 85 bufTalo, that lay there as if wearied with a long journey. The magician took the swine's head, and struck the buffalo three times between the horns, whereupon the buffalo sprang up and fled like the wind. " But the magician foillowed after the buffalo, and when he approached the spot where he was, ho heard the male Mangusch say to his female com- panion, 'Yonder magician knew that I was in the stable ; with his frightful swine's head he struck me three blows — so that it was time for me to escape from him.' And the Chan's wife replied, * I too am so afraid, because of his great knowledge, that I would not willingly return ; for, of a cer- tainty, things will go badly with us. To-morrow he will gather together the men with weapons and arms, and will say unto the women, " Bring hither firing ; " when this is done he will say, " Lead the buffalo hither." And when thou appearest, he will say unto thee, " Put off the form thou hast assumed." And because all resistance would be useless, the people perceiving thy true shape will fall upon thee with swords, and spears, and stones ; and when they have put thee to death, they will consume thee with fire. At last the magician will cause me to be dragged forth and consumed with fire. Oh, but I am sore afraid ! ' " When the magician heard these words, he said to himself, 'After this fashion may the thing be IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I f m 112.5 '' m 12.0 12.2 1.25 1.8 U ill 1.6 V2 <9 /}. A A o ei e. eM :*> ^i. /a % ^ W Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 ( 716) 872-4503 ^^'^^5' &?. FT 86 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. I '« i> { easily accomplished.' Upon this he betook himself, with the swine's head to the Chan, lifted up the baling, murmured his words of magic, and asked, 'How is it now with the sickness of the Chan?' And the Chan replied, 'Upon the arrival of the master of magic the sickness passed away, and I have slept soundly.' Then the magician spake as follows : ' To-morrow, then, give this command to thy ministers, that they collect the whole of the people together, and that the women be desired to bring firing with them,' "When, in obedience to these directions, there were two lofty piles of fagots gathered together, the magician said, ' Place my saddle upor the buffalo.' Then the magician rode upon the saddled buffalo three times around the assembled people, then removed the saddle from the buffalo, smote it three times with the swine's head, and said, * Put off the form thou hast assumed.' "At these words the buffalo was transformed into a fearful ugly Mangusch. His eyes were blood- shot, his upper tusks descended to his breast, his bottom tusks reached up to his eyelashes, so that he was fearful to behold. When the people had hewed this Mangusch to pieces with sword and with arrow, with spear and with stone, and his body was consumed upon one of the piles of fagots, then said the magician, * Bring forth the wife of the Chan.' And with loud cries did the wife of the THE RELATIONS OF S3IDI KUR. 87 le C/ian come forth, and the magician smote her with the swine's head, and said, ' Appear in thine own form ! ' Immediately her long tusks and bloodshot eyes exhibited the terrific figure of a female Man- gusch. "After the wife of the Chan had been cut in pieces, and consumed by fire, the magician mounted his horse ; but the people bowed themselves before him, and strewed grain over him, presented him with gifts, and regaled him so on every side, that he was only enabled to reach the palace of the Chan on the following morning. Then spake the Chan, full of joy, to the magician, * How can I reward you for the great deed that thou hast done 1 ' And the magician answered, * In our country there are bu'^ few nose-sticks for oxen to be found. Give me, I pray you, some of these nose-sticks.' Thus spake he, and the Chan had him conducted home with three sacks of nose-sticks, and seven elephants bearing meat and butter. "Near unto his dwelling his wife came with brandy to meet him ; and when she beheld the elephants, she exclaimed, ' Now, indeed, thou art become a mighty man.' Then they betook them- selves to their house, and at night-time the wife of the magician asked him, ' How camest thou to be presented with such gifts 1 ' The magician replied, * I have cured the sickness of the Chan, and con- sumed with fire two Mangusch.' At these words 88 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. she rep ed, ' Verily, thou hast behaved very fool- ishly. After such a beneficial act, to desire nothing but nose-sticks for cattle ! To-morrow I myself will go to the Chan.' "On the morrow the wife drew near unto the Chan, and presented unto him a letter from the magician, and in this letter stood the following words : — ' Because the magician was aware that of the great evil of the Chan a lesser evil still re- mained behind, he desired of him the nose-sticks. What he is to receive as a reward depends upon the pleasure of the Chan.' " * He is right,' replied the Chan, and he sum- moned the magician, with his father and mother, and all his relations before him, and received them with every demonstration of honour. ' But for you I should have died ; the kingdom would have been annihilated ; the ministers and all the people con- sumed as the food of the Mangusch. I, therefore, will honour thee,' and he bestowed upon him proofs of his favour." " Both man and wife were intelligent," exclaimed the Son of the Chan. " Ruler of Destiny," replied Ssidi, *' thou hast spoken words! Swarwala missdood jakzang!" Thus spake he, and burst from the sack through the air. Ssidi's fourth relation treats of the Magician with the head of the Swine, ' i; THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 89 IS id U The History of Sunshine and his Brother. As the Chan's Son was journeying along as before, laden with Ssidi, Ssidi inquired of him as formerly who should tell a tale. But the Son of the Chan shook his head without speaking a word, and Ssidi began as follows : — "Many years ago Guchanasschang reigned over a certain happy land. This Chan had a wife and a son, whose name was Sunshine (Narrani Garral). 11}: ^n the death of his first wife the Chan married a second ; and by her likewise he had a son, and the name of his second son was Moonshine (Ssarrani Garral). And when both these sons were grown up, the wife of the Chan thought to herself, ' So long as Sunshine, the elder brother, lives, Moonshine, the younger, will never be Chan over this land.* " Some time after this the wife of the Chan fell sick, and tossed and tumbled about on her bed from the seeming agony she endured. And the Chan inquired of her, ' What can be done for you, my noble spouse ? ' To these words the wife of the Chan replied, * Even at the time I dwelt with my parents I was subject to this sickness. But now it is become past bearing. I know, indeed, but one way of removing it ; and that way is so impracti- cable, thai'; there is nothing left for me but to die.' Hereupon spake the Chan, 'Tell unto me this way of help, and though it should cost me half my 90 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 11 I: t; il II IM kingdom thou slialt have it. Tell me what thou requirest.' Thus spake he, and his wife replied with the following words, 'If the heart of one of the Chan's sons were roasted in the fat of the Gunsa (a beast); but thou wilt not, of course, sacrifice Sunshine for this purpose ; and I myself bare Moon- shine, his heart I will not consume. So that there is now nothing lefj for me but to die.' The Chan replied, ' Of a surety Sunshine is my son, and in- expressibly dear unto me ; but in order that I may not lose thee, I will to-morrow deliver him over to the Jargatschi ' (the servants of Justice). " Moonshine overheard these words and hastened to his brother, and said, * To-morrow they will murder thee.' When he had related all the circum- stances, the brother replied, ' Since it is so, do you remain at home, honouring your father and mother. The time of my flight is come.' Then said Moon- shine with a troubled heart, * Alone I will not re- main, but I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest.' "Because the following day was appointed for the murder, the two brothers took a sack with baling-cakes from the altar, crept out at niglit, for it was the night of the full moon, from the palace, and journeyed on day and night through the moun- tainous country, until they at length arrived at the course of a dried-up river. Because their provender was finished, and the river afi'orded no water, THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 91 Moonshine fell to the earth utterly exhausted. Then spake the elder brother, full of affliction, * I will go and seek water; but do you watch an instant until I come down from the high places.' 11 "After some vain attempts Sunshine returned, and found that his brother had departed this life. After he had with great tenderness covered the body of his brother with stones, he wandered over high mountains, and then arrived at the entrance of a cave. Within the cave sat an aged Arschi. ' Whence comest thou ? ' inquired the old man, ' thy countenance betokeneth deep affliction.' And when the youth had related all that had passed, the old man, taking with him the means of awakening the dead, went with the youth to the grave, and called Moonshine back to life. * Will ye be unto me as sons?' Thus spake the old man, and the two young men became as sons unto him. " Not far from this place there reigned a mighty Chan of fearful power; and the time was approach- ing in this country when the fields were watered, but the crocodiles prevented this. The crocodiles frequented a marsh at the source of the river, and would not allow the water to stream forth until such times as a Son of the Tiger-year ^ had been oflFered to them as food. After a time it happened ^ Among the Calmucs every year has its peculiar name, and persons born in any year are called the children of that year. 92 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. I, III that when search had been made in vain for a Son of the Tiger-year, certain people drew nigh unto the Chan, and said, ' Near unto the source of the river dwelleth the old Arschi, and with him a Son of the Tiger-year. Thither led we our cattle to drink, and we saw him.' " When he heard this, the Chan said, '^ Go and fetch him.' " Accordingly the messengers were despatched for him, and when they arrived at the entrance of the cave, the Arschi himself came forth. ' What is it that ye seek here?' inquired the aged Arschi. ' The Chan,' replied they, ' speaketh to thee thus : Thou hast a Son of the Tiger-year. My kingdom hath need of him : send him unto me.' But the Arschi said, 'Who could have told you so] who, indeed, would dwell with an old Arschi 1 * " Thus speaking he retired into his cave, closed the door after him, and concealed the youth in a stone chest, placed the lid on him, and cemented up the crevices with clay, as if it was from the dis- tillation of arrack. But the messengers having broken down the door, thrust themselves into the cave, searched it, and then said, ' Since he whom we sought is not here, we are determined that nothing shall be left in the cave.' Thus speaking, they drew their swords; and the youth said, out of fear for the Arschi, ' Hurt not my father ; I am here. ' " And when the youth was come forth, the mes- THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 93 scngers took him with them ; but the Arschi they left behind them weeping and sorrowing. When the youth entered into the palace of the Chan, the daughter of the Chan beheld him and loved him, and encircled his neck with her arms. But the attendants addressed the Chan, saying, * To-day is the day appointed for the casting of the Son of the Tiger-year into the waters.' Upon this the Chan siiid, * Let him then be cast into the waters ! ' But when they would have led him forth for that pur- pose, the daughter of the Chan spake and said, * Cast him not into the waters, or cast me into the waters with him.' " And when the Chan heard these words, he was angered, and said, * Because this maiden careth cc little for the welfare of the kingdom, over whicii I am Chan, let her be bound fast unto the Son of the Tiger-year, and let them be cast together into the waters.' And the attendants said, 'It shall be according as you have commanded.' " And when the youth was bound fast, and with the maiden cast into the waters, he cried out, 'Since I am the Son of the Tiger-year, it is certainly lawful for them to cast me into the waters; but why should this charming maiden die, who so loveth me?' But the maiden said, 'Since I am but an unworthy creature, it is certainly lawful for them to cast me into the waters ; but wherefore do they cast in this beauteous youth 1 * i 94 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. "Now the crocodiles heard these words, felt com- passion, and placed the lovers once more upon the shore. And no sooner had this happened than the streams began to flow again. And when they were thus saved, the maiden said to the youth, ' Come with me, I pray you, unto the palace 1' and he replied, * When I have sought out my father Arschi, then will I come, and we will live together un- severed as man and wife.' " Accordingly the youth returned to the cave of the old Arschi, and knocked at the door. *I am thy son,' said he. * My son,' replied the old man, * has the Chan taken and slain ; therefore it is that I sit here and weep.' At tl ese words the son re- plied, • Of a verity I am thy son. The Chan indeed bade them cast me into the waters; but because the crocodiles devoured me not, I am returned unto you. Weep not, my father ! * "Arschi then opened the door, but he had suf- fered his beard and the hair of his head to grow, so that he looked like a dead man. Sunshine washed him therefore with milk and with water, and aroused him by tender words from his great sorrow. " Now when the maiden returned back again to the palace, the Chan and the whole people were exceedingly amazed. * The crocodiles,' they ex- claimed, ' have, contrary to their wont, felt com- passion for this maiden and spared her. This is T THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 95 to jre fcx- |m- is I: indeed a very wonder.' So the whole people passed around the maiden, bowing themselves down before her. But the Chan said, * That the maiden is re- turned is indeed very good. But the Son of the Tiger-year is assuredly devoured.' At these words his daughter replied unto him, 'The Son of the Tiger-year assuredly is not devoured. On account of his goodness his life was spared him.' " And when she said this, all were more than ever surprised. ' Arise ! ' said the Chan to his ministers, ' lead this youth hither.' Agreeably to these com- mands, the ministers hastened to the cave of the aged Arschi. Both Arschi and the youth arose, and when they approached unto the dwelling of the Chan, the Chan said, ' For the mighty benefits which this youth has conferred upon us, and upon our dominions, we feel ourselves bound to go fnth to meet him.' " Thus spake he, and he went forth to meet the youth, and led him into the interior of the palace, and placed him upon one of the seats apj>i'opriated to the nobles. ' thou most wondrous youth ! * he exclaimed, ' art thou indeed the son of Arschi 1 ' The youth replied, * I am the Son of a Chan. But because my stepmother, out of the love she bare to her own son, sought to slay me, I fled, and, accom- panied by my younger brother, arrived at the cave of the aged Arschi.' " When the Son of the Chan related all this, the [Jir 96 OUIKNTAL FOLKLORE TALES. i Chan loaded him with honours, and gave his daughters for wives unto the two brothers, and sent them, with many costly gifts and a good retinue, home to their own kingdom. Thither they went, drew nigh unto the palace, and wrote a letter as follows : — * To the Chan their father, the two brothers are returned back again.' " Now the father and mother had for many years bewailed the loss of both their sons, and their sorrows had rendered them so gloomy that they remained over alone. " On receipt of this letter they sent forth a large body of people to meet their children. But because the wife of the Chan saw both the youths approach- ing with costly gifts and a goodly retinue, so great was her envy that she died." " She was very justly served!" exclaimed the Son of the Chan. " Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words ! Ssarwala missdood jonkzang." Thus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air. Thus Ssidi's fifth relation treats of Sunshine and his brother. The Wonderful Man who overcame the Chan. When the Son of the Chan had proceeded as formerly to seize the dead one, then spake he the ~'mm THE .RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 97 as Ihe threatening words, seized upon Ssidi, thrust him into the sack, tied the sack fast, ate of the butter- cakes, and journeyed forth with his burden. After Ssidi had as before asked who should tell the tale, and the Son of the Chan had replied by merely shak- ing his head, Ssidi began the following relation : — " A long, long time ago there lived in the land of Barschiss, a wild, high-spirited man, who would not allow any one to be above him. Then spake the Chan of the kingdom to him, full of displeasure, 'Away with thee, thou good-for-nothing one ! Away with thee to some other kingdom ! ' Thus spake he, and the wild man departed forth out of the country. "On his journey he arrived about mid-day at a forest, where he found the body of a horse, which had been somehow killed, and he accordingly cut off its head, fastened it to his girdle, and climbed up a tree. "About midnight there assembled a host of Tschadkurrs (evil spirits) mounted upon horses of bark, wearing likewise caps of bark, and they placed themselves around the tree. Afterwards there assembled together other Tschadkurrs, mounted upon horses of paper, and having caps of paper on their heads, and they likewise placed themselves around the tree. " During the time that those who were assembled were partaking of various choice wines and liquors, the man peeped anxiously down from the tree, and Oriental. f^ m . .: 98 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. as he was doing so, the horse's head fell down from his belt. The Tschadkurrs were thereby exceed- ingly alarmed ; so much that they fled hither and thither uttering fearful cries. "On the following morning the man descended from the tree, and said, * This night there was in this spot many choice viands and liquors, and now they are all vanished.' And while he was thus speaking, '^e found a brandy flask, and as he was anxious for something to drink, he immediately applied the flask which he had found to his lips ; when suddenly there sprang out of it meat and cakes and other delicacies fit for eating. ' This flask,' cried he, ' is of a surety a wishing flask, which will procure him who has it everything he desires. I will take the flask with me.' " And when he had thus spoken, he continued his journey until he met with a man holding a sword in his hand. ' Wherefore,' cried he, * dost thou carry that sword in thine hand 1 ' And thi man answered, * This sword is called Kreisch winger; and when I say to it, " Kreischwinger, thither goes a man who has taken such a thing from me, follow him and bring it back," Kreischwinger goes forth, kills the man, and brings my property back again.* To this the first replied, ' Out of this vessel springeth everything you desire ; let us exchange.' So accord- ingly they made an exchange ; and when the man went away with the flask, he who now owned the THE EELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 99 i In le sword said, * Kreisch winger, go forth now pnd bring me back my iiasK.' So the sword went fori h, smote his former master dead, and brought the golden vessel back again. " When he had jcurneyed a little further, he met a man holding in his hand an iron hammer. ' Where- fore,' cried he, ' dost thou hold this hammer in thy hand 1 ' To this question the other replied, * When I strike the earth nine times with this hammer, there immediately arises a wall of iron, nine pillars high.' Then said the first, ' Let us make an ex- change.' And when the exchange was made, he cried out, ' Kreischwinger, go forth and bring me back my golden vessel ! ' "After Kreischwinger had slain the man, and brought back the golden vessel, the man journeyed on until he encountered another man, carrying in his bosom a sack, made of goatskin, and he asked him, * Wherefore keepest thou that sack ? ' To this question the other replied, 'This sack is a very wonderful thing. When you shake it, it rains heavily ; and if you shake it very hard, it rains very heavily.' Hereupon the owner of the flask said, * Let us change,' and they changed accordingly ; and the sword went forth, slew the m.an, and returned back to its master with the golden vessel. "When the man found himself in the possession of all these wonderful things, he said unto himself, * The Chan of my country is indeed a cruel man ; 100 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. I It! nevertheless I Avill turn back unto my native land.' When he had thus considered, he turned back again, and concealed himself in the neighbourhood of the roj'al pahice. " About midnight he struck the earth nine times with his iron hammer, and there arose an iron wall nine pillars high. " On the following morning the Chan arose, and said, * During the night I have heard a mighty tock, tock at the back of the palace.' Thereupon the wife of the Chan looked out, and said, ' At the back of the palace there stands an iron wall nine pillars high.' Thus spake she ; and the Chan replied, full of anger, * The wild, high-spirited man has of a surety erected this iron wall ; but we shall see whether he or I will be the conqueror.' "When he had spoken these words the Chan commanded all the people to take frel and bellows, and make the iron wall red-hot on every side. Thereupon there was an immense fire kindled, and the Wonderful Man found himself, with his mother, within the wall of iron. He was himself upon the upper pillars, but his mother was on the eighth. And because the heat first reached the mother, she exclaimed unto her son, 'The ^res which the Chan has commanded the people to kindle will destroy the iron wall, and we shall both die.' The son replied, * Have no fear, mother, for I can find means to prevent it.' THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 101 " When he had spoken these words he shook the sack of goatskin, and there descended heavy rain and extinguished the fire. After that he shook the sack still more forcibly, and there arose around them a mighty sea, which carried away both the fuel and the bellows which the people had collected." " Thus, then, the Wonderful gained the mastery over the Chan," exclaimed the Son of the Chan. " Euler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words ! Ssarwala missdood jakzang ! " Thus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air. Thus Ssidi's sixth relation treats of the Wonderful Man who overpowered the Chan. The Bird-man. When the Son of the Chan had done as formerly, spoken the threatening words, and carried off Ssidi, Ssidi asked him as before to tell a tale ; but the Son of the Chan shook his head without speaking a word, and Ssidi began as follows : — " In times gone by there lived in a fair country the father of a family, whose three daughters had daily by turns to watch over the calves. Now it once happened, during the time that the eldest sister should have been watching the calves, that she fell asleep, and one of them was lost. When the maiden awoke and missed the calf, she arose and went forth to seek it, and wandered about until sho reached a large house with a red door. ill 102 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. i!i " She went in, and then came to a golden door, next to that to a silver one, and last of all to a brazen door. After she had likewise opentd this door she found, close to the entrance of it, a cage decorated with gold and all manner of costly jewels, and within it, on a perch, there stood a white bird. " ' I have lost a calf,' said the maiden, ' and am come hither to seek it.' At these words the bird said, *If thou wilt become my wife I will find the calf for you, but not without.' But the maiden said, * That may not be ; among men birds are looked upon but as wild creatures. Therefore I will not become your wife, even though, through refusing, I lose the calf for ever.' And when she had thus spoken she returned home again. " On the following day the second sister went forth to tend the calves, and she likewise lost one of them. And it happened unto her as it had done unto the eldest sister, and she too refused to become the wife of the bird. " At last the youngest sister went forth with the calves, and when she missed one she too wandered on until she reached the house wherein the bird resided. The bird said unto her likewise, * If thou wilt become my wife, I will procure for thee the calf which thou hast lost.' *Be it according to thy will' Thus spake she, and became the wife of the bird. "After some time it happened that a mighty tliirteen days* feast was held at a large pagoda in THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 103 the neighbourhood, and upon this occasion a number of persons assembled together, amongst the rest the wife of the bird. And she was tha foremost among the women ; but among the men the most noticed was an armed man, who rode upon a white horse three times round the assemblage. And all who saw him exclaimed, ' He is the first.' " And when the woman returned home again the white bird demanded of her, ' AVho were the fore- most among the men and the women who were there assembled together 1 ' Then said the woman, 'The foremost among the men was seated upon a white horse, but I knew him not. The foremost of the women was myself.' " And for eleven days did these things so fall out. But on the twelfth day, when the wife of the bird went to the assemblage, she sat herself down near an old V oman. 'Who,' said the old woman, 'is the first in the assemblage this day 1 ' To this question the wife of the bird replied, ' Among the men, the rider upon the white horse is beyond all comparison the foremost. Among the women, I myself am so. Would that I were bound unto this man, for my husband is numbered among wild creatures since he is nothing but a bird.' "Thus spake she, weeping, and the old woman replied as follows : — ' Speak ye no more words like unto these. Amongst the assembled women thou art in all things the foremost. But the rider upon 104 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 'Hi It the white horse is thine own husband. To-morrow is the thirteenth day of the feast. Come not to- morrow unto the feast, but remain at home behind the door until thine husband opens his birdhouse, takes his steed from the stable, and rides to the feast. Take ye, then, the open birdhouse and burn it. And when thou hast done this thy husband will remain henceforth and for ever in his true form.* " The wife of the bird, thereupon, did as she had been told ; and when the birdhouse was opened, and her husband had departed, she took the birdhouse and burnt it upon the hearth. When the sun bbwed down towards the west the bird returned home, and said to his wife, ' What, art thou already returned 1 ' and she said, * I am already returned.' Then said her husband, ' Where is my birdhouse ? ' And the wife replied, * I have burnt it.' And he said, 'Barama, that is a pretty business — that bird- house was my soul.' " And his wife was troubled, and said, ' What is now to be done 1 ' To these words the bird replied, ' There is nothing can be done now, except you seat yourself behind the door, and there by day and night keep clattering a sword. But if the clatter- ing sword ceases, the Tscha Ikurrs will carry me away. Seven days and seven nights must ye thus defend me from the Tschadkurrs and from the Tangdri.' " At these words the wife took the sword, propped THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUK. 105 open her eyelids with little sticks, and watched for the space of six nights. On the seventh night her eyelids closed for an instant, but in that instant the Tschadkurrs and Tangari suddenly snatched her husband away. " Weeping bitterly, and despising all nourish- ment, the distracted wife ran about everywhere, crying unceasingly, ' Alas, my bird-husband ! Alas, my bird-husband ! ' " When she had sought for him day and night without finding him, she heard from the top of a mountain the voice of her husband. Following the sound, she discovered that the voice proceeded from the river. She ran to the river, and then discovered her husband with a load of tattered boots upon his back. ' Oh ! my heart is greatly rejoiced,' said the husband, * at seeing thee once more. I am forced to draw water for the Tschadkurrs and the Tangari, and have worn out all these boots in doing so. If thou wishest to have me once again, build me a new birdhouse, and dedicate it to my soul ; then I shall come back again.' " With these words he vanished into the air. But the woman betook herself home to the house again, made a new birdhouse, and dedicated it to the soul of her husband. At length the bird-man appeared and perched himself on the roof of the house." " Truly, his wife was an excellent wife ! " ejcclaimed the Son of the Chan, 1 106 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. i! ' n 1 " Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words ! Ssarwala missdood jakzang ! ' Thus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air. Thus Ssidi's seventh relation treats of the Bird- man. The Painter and the Wood-carver. When the Son of the Chan had, as on all the former occasions, spoken the words of threatening, placed the dead one in the sack, and journeyed forth with him, Ssidi spake this time also as follows : — * The day is long, and the distant journey will tire us: do you relate a tale unto me, or I will relate one unto you." But the Son of the Chan shook his head without saying a word, and Ssidi began as follows : — " Many years ago there lived in the land of Gujassmunn a Chan, whose name was Gunisschang. This Chan, however, died, and his son Chamuk Sakiktschi was elected Chan in his place. Now there lived among the people of that country a painter and a wood-carver, who bore similar names, and were evilly disposed towards each other. " Once upon a time the painter, Gunga, drew nigh unto the Chan, and said unto him, ' Thy father hath been borne into the kingdom of the T^ngari, and hath said unto me, " Come unto me ! " Thither I went, and found thy father in great power and 1, sr THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 107 splendour ; and I have brought for you this letter from him.' With these words the painter delivered unto the Chan a forged letter, the contents of which were as follows : — "'This letter is addressed to my son Chamuk Sakiktschi. " * When I departed this life, I was borne to the kingdom of the T^lngar; An abundance of all things reigns in this land ; but since I am desirous of erecting a pagoda, and there are no wood-carvers to be found here, do you despatch unto me Cunga, the wood-carver. The means by which he is to reach this place he may learn from the painter.' " After he had perused this letter, the Chan of Gujassmunn said, 'If my father has really been carried into the realms of the T^ngari, that would indeed be a good thing. Call hither the wood- carver ? ' The wood-carver was called, and appeared before the Chan, and the Chan said unto him, * My fathei has been carried into the realms of the Tangari. He is desirous of erecting a pagoda, and because there are no wood-carvers there he is desirous that you should be despatched unto him.* " With these words the Chan displayed the forged letter, and when he had read it, the wood-carver said unto himself, ' Of a surety Gunga, the painter, has played me this trick ; but I will try if I cannot overreach him.' "Thus thinking, he inquired of the painter, *By a; I 108 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. what means can I reach the kingdom of the Tilngfijir " To these words the painter replied, *When thou hast prepared all thy tools and implements of trade, then place thyself upon a pile of fagots, and when thou hast sung songs of rejoicing and set light to the pile of fagots, thus wilt thou be able to reach the kingdom of the Tangdri.* Thus spake he, and the seventh night from that time was appointed for the carver's setting forth on his journey. " When the wood-carver returned home unto his wife, he spake unto her these words : — * The painter hath conceived wickedness in his mind against me ; yet I shall try means to overreach him.' " Accordingly he secretly contrived a subterranean passage, which reached from his own house into the middle of his field. Over the aperture in the field he placed a large stone, covered the stone with earth, and when the seventh night was come, the Chan said, 'This night let the wood-carver draw nigh unto the Chan, my father.' Thereupon, agree- ably to the commands of the Chan, every one of the people brought out a handful of the fat of the Gansa (a beast). A huge fire was kindled, and the wood-cutter, when he had sung the songs of rejoic- i g, escaped by the covered way he had made back to his own house. " Meanwhile the painter was greatly rejoiced, and pointed upwards with his finger, and said, 'There THE RELATIONS OF SSIDl KUK. 109 id re lideth the wood-carver up to heaven.' All who had been present, too, betook themselves home, thinking in their hearts, * The wood-carver is dead, and gone up above to the Chan.' "The wood-carver remained concealed at home a whole ncath, and allowed no man to set eyes upon iiim, but washed his head in milk every day, and kept himself always in the shade. After that he put on a garment of white silk, and wrote a letter, in which stood the following words : — " * This letter is addressed to my son Chamuk Sakiktschi. That thou rulest the kingdom in peace ; it is very good. Since thy wood-carver has completed his work, it is needful that he should be rewarded according to his deserts. Since, more- over, for the decoration of the pagoda, many coloured paintings are necessary, send unto me the painter, as thou hast already sent this man.' " The wood-carver then drew nigh unto the Chan with this letter. * What ! ' cried the Chan, * art thou returned from the kingdom of the T^ngari 1 * The wood-carver handed the letter unto him, and said, * I have, indeed, been in the kingdom of the T^ngari, and from it I am returned home again.' " The Chan was greatly rejoiced when he heard this, and rewarded the wood-carver with costly presents. 'Because the painter is now required,' said the Chan, * for the painting of the pagoda, let him now be called before me.' i I £ : J t: no ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. ill i II "The painter drew nigh accordingly, and when he saw the wood-carver, fair, and in white-shining robes, and decorated with gifts, ho said unto him- self, ' Then he is not dead ! ' And the Chan handed over to the painter the forged letter, with the seal thereto, and said, ' Thou must go now,' "And when the seventli night from that time arrived, the people came forward as before with a contribution of the fat of the Gunsa; and in the midst of the field a pile of fagots was kindled. The painter seated himself in the midst of the fire, with his materials for painting, and a letter and gifts of honour for the Chan Gunisschang, and sang songs of rejoicing; and as the fire kept growing more and more intolerable, he lifted up his voice and uttered piercing cries ; but the noise of the instruments overpowered his voice, and at length the fire consumed him." " He was properly rewarded ! " exclaimed the Son of the Chan. " Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words ! Ssarwala missdood jakzang ! " Thus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air. Thus Ssidi's eighth relation treats of the Painter and the Wood-carver. The Stealing of the Heart. When the Son of the Chan was, as formerly, carrying Ssidi away in the sack, Ssidi inquired of ■ R THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUli. HI him as before ; but the Son of the Chan shook his head without speaking a word, so Ssidi proceeded as follows : — " Many, many years ago there ruled over a cer- tain kingdom a Chan named Guguluktschi. Upon the death of this Chan his son, who was of great reputation and worth, was elected Chan in his place. "One berren (a measure of distance) from the residence of the Chan dwelt a man, who had a daughter of wonderful abilities and extraordinary beauty. The son of the Chan was enamoured of this maiden, and visited her daily ; until, at length, he fell sick of a grievous malady, and died, without the maiden being made aware of it. "One night, just as the moon was rising, the maiden heard a knocking at the door, and the face of the maiden was gladdened when she beheld the son of the Chan ; and the maiden arose and went to meet him, and she led him in and placed arrack and cakes before him. * Wife,' said the son of the Chan, ' come with me ! ' "The maiden followed, and they kept going further and further, until they arrived at the dwelling of the Chan, from which proceeded the sound of cymbals and kettledrums. "'Chan, what is this?' she asked. The son of the Chan replied to these inquiries of the maiden, ' Do you not know that they are now celebrating the feast of my funeral 1 ' Thus spake he ; and the M •,: 112 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. i maiden replied, 'The feast of thy funeral! Has anything then befallen the Chan's son V And the son of the Chan replied, * He is departed. Thou wilt, however, bear a son unto him. And when the season is come, go into the stable of the elephant, and let him be born there. In the palace there will arise a contention betwixt my mother and her attendants, because of the wonderful stone of the kinsrdom. Tlie wonderful stone lies under the table of sdorifice. After it has been discovered, do you and my mother reign over this kingdom until such time as my son comes of age.' " Thu: . spake he, and vanished into air. But his beloved fell, from very anguish, into a swoon. * Chan ! Chan ! ' exclaimed she sorrowfully, when she came to herself again. And because she felt that the time was come, she betook herself to the stable of the elephants, and there gave birth to a son. " On the following morning, when the keeper of the elephants entered the stable, he exclaimed, * What ! has a woman given birth to a son in the stable of the elephants 1 This never happene(l before. This may be an injury to the elephants.' " At these words the maiden said, ' Go unto the mother of the Chan, and say unto her, " Arise ! something wonderful has taken place." ' " When these words were told unto tlie mother of the Chan, then she arose and went unto the stable, THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 113 llie k and the maiden related unto her all that had happened. * Wonderful ! ' said the mother of the Chan. ' Otherwise the Chan had left no successors. Let us go together into the house.' " Thus speaking, she took the maiden with her into the house, and nursed her, and tended her carefully. And because her account of the wonderful stone was found correct, all the rest of he^ otory was believed. So the mother of the Chan and his wife ruled over the kingdom. " Henceforth, too, it happened that every month, on the night of the full moon, the deceased Chan appeared to his wife, remained with her until morning dawned, and then vanished into air. And the wife recounted this to his mother, but his mother believed her not, and said, ' This is a mere invention. If it were true my son would, of a surety, show him- self likewise unto me. If I am to believe your words, you must take care that mother and son meet one another.' " When the son of the Chan came on the night of the full moon, his wife said unto him, * It is well that thou coraest unto me on the night of every full moon, but it were yet better if thou camest every night.' And as she spake thus, with tears in her eyes, the son of the Chan replied, * If thou hadst sufficient spirit to dare its accomplishment, thou mightest do what would bring me every night ; but thou art young and cannot do it.' ' Then,' said she. Oriental. H 114 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALL. ill 1 > J I 'if thou wilt but come every night, I will do all that is required of me, although I should thereby lose both flesh d bone.' " There;..jjon the son of the Chan spake as follows : * Then betake thyself on the night of the full moon a berren from this place to the iron old man, and give unto him arrack. A little further you will come unto two rams, to them you must offer batschimak cakes. A little further on you will perceive a host of men in coats of mail and other armour, and there you must share out meat and cakes. From thence you must proceed to a large black building, stainsd with blood; the skin of a man floats over it instead of a flair. Two aerliks (fiends) stand at the entrance. Present unto them both offerings of blood. Within the mansion thou wilt discover nine fearful exorcists, and nine hearts upon a throne. " Take me ! take me ! " will the eight old hearts exclaim ; and the ninth heart will cry out, " Do not take me ! " But leave the old hearts and take the fresh one, and run home with it without looking round.' " Much as the maiden was alarmed at the task which she had been enjoined to perform, she set forth on the night of the next full moon, divided the offerings, and entered the house. 'Take me not ! ' exclaimed the fresh heart ; but the maiden seized the fresh heart and fled with it. The exorcists fled after her, and cried out to those who were THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 115 watching, ' Stop the thief of the heart ! ' And the two aerlic (fiends) cried, * We have received offerings of blood ! ' Then each of the armed men cried out, ! Stop the thief ! ' But the rams said, ' We have received batschimak cakes.' Then they called out to the iron old man, * Stop the thief with the heart !* But the old man said, ' I have received arrack from her, and shall not stop her.' "Thereupon the maiden journeyed on without fear until she reached home ; and she found upon entering the house the Chan's son, attired in festive garments. And the Chan's son drew nigh, and threw his arms about the neck of the maiden." " The maiden behaved well indeed ! " exclaimed the Son of the Chan. " Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words ! Ssarwala missdood jakzang." Thus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air. Thus Ssidi's ninth relation treats of the Stealing of the Heart. Ik it Id le n s |e The Man and his Wife. When Ssidi had been captured as before, and was being carried away in the sack, he inquired, as he had always done, as to telling a tale ; but the Son of the Chan shook his head without speaking a word. Whereupon Ssidi began the following rela- tion : — A 116 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. I I "Many, many years since, there lived in the kingdom of Olmilsong two brothers, and they were both married. Now the elder brother and his wife were niggardly and envious, while the younger brother was of quite a diiferent disposition. "Once upon a time the elder brother, who had contrived to gather together abundance of riches, gave a great feast, and invited many people to partake of it. When this was known, the younger thought to himself, ' Although my elder brother has hitherto not treated me very well, yet he will now, no doubt, since he has invited so many people to his feast, invite also me and my wife.* This he certainly expected, but yet he was not invited. * Probably,' thought he, * my brother will summon me to-morrow morning to the brandy-drinking.' Because, how- ever, he was not even invited unto that, he grieved very sore, and said unto himself, ' This night, when my brother's wife has drunk the brandy, I will go unto the house and steal somewhat.' " When, however, he had glided into the treasure- chamber of his brother, there lay the wife of his brother near her husband ; but presently she arose and went into the kitchen, and cooked meat and sweet food, and went out of the door with it. The concealed one did not venture at this moment to steal anything, but said unto himself, * Before I steal anything, I will just see what all this means.* "So saying, he went forth and followed the THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 117 woman to a mountain where the dead were wont to be laid. On the top, upon a green mound, lay a beautiful ornamental tomb over the body of a dead man. This man had formerly been the lover of the woman. Even when afar off she called unto the dead man by name, and when she had come unto him she threw her arms about his neck ; and the younger brother was nigh unto her, and saw all that she did. " The woman next handed the sweet food which she had prepared to the dead man, and because the teeth of the corse did not open, she separated them with a pair of brazen pincers, and pushed the food into his mouth. Suddenly the pincers bounced back from the teeth of the dead man, and snapped off the tip of the woman's nose ; while, at the same time, the teeth of the dead man closed together and bit off the end of the woman's tongue. Upon this the woman took up the dish with the food and went back to her home. "The younger brother thereupon followed her home, and concealed himself in the treasure-cham- ber, and the wife laid herself down again by her husband. Presently the man began to move, when the wife immediately cried out, ' Woe is me ! woe is me ! was there ever such a man 1 * And the man said, ' What is the matter now 1 ' The wife replied, * The point of my tongue, and the tip of my nose, both these thou hast bitten off. What can a woman ! w it ( . 118 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. do without these two things ? To-morrow the Chan shall be made acquainted with this conduct.' Thus spake she, and the younger brother fled from the treasure-chamber without stealing anything. " On the following morning the woman presented herself before the Chan, and addressed him, saying, * My husband has this night treated me shamefully. Whatsoever punishment may be awarded to him, I myself will see it inflicted.' " But the husband persisted in asserting, ' Of all this I know nothing ! ' Because the complaint of the wife seemed well-founded, and the man could not exculpate himself, the Chan said, 'Because of his evil deeds, let this man be burnt." "When the younger brother heard what had befallen the elder, he went to see him. And after the younger one had related to him all the affair, he betook himself unto the Chan, saying, ' That the evil-doer may be really discovered, let both the woman and her husband be summoned before you ; I will clear up the mystery.' "When they were both present, the younger brother related the wife's visit to the dead man, and because the Chan would not give credence unto his story, he said : * In the mouth of the dead man you will find the end of the woman's tongue ; and the blood-soiled tip of her nose you will find in the pincers of brass. Send thither, and see if it be not so. THE EELATIONS OF SSIDI KJR. 119 "Thus spake he, and people were sent to the place, and confirmed all that he had asserted. Upon bhis the Chan said, ' Since the matter stands thus, iet the woman be placed upon the pile of fagots and consumed with fire.' And the woman was placed upon the pile of fagots and consumed with fire." " That served her right ! " said the Son of the Chan. " Euler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words ! Ssarwala missdood jakzang ! " Thus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air. Thus Ssidi's tenth relation treats of the Man and his Wife. Of the Maiden Ssuwarandari. When the Son of the Chan was carrying off Ssidi, as formerly, Ssidi related the following tale : — " A long while ago, there was in tne very centre of a certain kingdom an old pagoda, in which stood the image of Choschim Bodissadoh (a Mongolian idol), formed of clay. Near unto this pagoda stood a small house, in which a beautiful maiden resided with her aged parents. But at the mouth of the river, which ran thereby, dwelt a poor man, who maintained himself by selling fruit, which he carried in an ark upon the river. *' Now it happened once, that as he was returning I r i I II 120 OKIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. home he was benighted in the neighbourhood of the pagoda. He listened at the door of the house in which the two old people dwelt, and heard the old woman say unto her husband, ' We are both grown exceedingly old ; could we now but provide for our daughter, it would be well.' " ' That we have lived so long happily together,' said the old man, * we are indebted to the talisman of our daughter. Let us, however, offer up sacrifice to Bodissadoh, and inquire of him to what condition we shall dedicate our daughter — to the spiritual or to the worldly. To-morrow, at the earliest dawn, we will therefore lay our offering before the Burchan.' " * Now know I what to do,' said the listener ; so in the night-time he betook himself to the pagoda, made an opening in the back of the idol, and con- cealed himself therein. When on the following morning the two old people and the daughter drew nigh and made their offering, the father bowed him- self to the earth and spake as follows : — " * Deified Bodissadoh ! shall this maiden be de- voted to a spiritual or worldly life 1 If she is to be devoted to a worldly life, vouchsafe to point out now or hereafter, in a dream or vision, to whom we shall give her to wife.' "Then he who was concealed in the image ex- claimed, ' It is better that thy daughter be devoted to a worldly life. Therefore, give her to wife to the I ! ' ''' ! THE RELATIONS "^if SSIDI KUR. 121 first man who presents himself at thy door in the morning.' " The old people were greatly rejoiced when they heard these words ; and they bowed themselves again and again down to the earth, and walked around the idol. " On the following morning the man stepped out of the idol and knocked at the door of the aged couple. The old woman went out, and when she saw that it was a man, she turned back again, and said to her husband, * The words of the Burchan are fulfilled ; the man has arrived.' " * Give him entrance ! ' said the old man. The man came in accordingly, and was welcomed with food and drink ; and when they had told him all that the idol had said, he took the maiden with the talisman to wife. " When he was wandering forth and drew nigh unto his dwelling, he thought unto himself, ' I have v;ith cunning obtained the daughter of the two old people. Now I will place the maiden in the ark, and conceal the ark in the sand.' "So he concealed the ark, and went and said unto the people, * Though I have ever acted pro- perly, still it has never availed me yet. I will therefore now seek to obtain liberal gifts through my prayers.' Thus spake he, and after repeating the Zoka-prayers (part of the Calmuc ritual), he obtained food and gifts, and said, 'To-morrow I I! i 122 OIIIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. will again wander around, repeat the appointed Zoka-prayers, and seek food again.' "In the meanwhile it happened that the son of the Chan and two of his companions, with bows and arrows in their hands, who were following a tiger, passed by unnoticed, and arrived at the sand-heap of the maiden Ssuwarandari. ' Let us shoot at that heap ! ' cried they. Thus spake they, and shot accordingly, and lost their arrows in the sand. As they were looking after the arrows, they found the ark, opened it, and drew out the maiden with the talisman. " ' Who art thou, maiden ? ' inquired they. * I am the daughter of Lu.' The Chan's son said, * Come with me, and be my wife.' And the maiden said, ' I cannot go unless another is placed in the ark instead of me.' So they all said, * Let us put in the tiger.' And when the tiger was placed in the ark, the Chan's son took away with him the maiden, and the talisman with her. " In the meanwhile the beggar ended his prayers ; and when he had done so, he thought unto himself, ' If I take the talisman, slay the maiden, and sell the talisman, of a surety I shall become rich indeed.* Thus thinking he drew nigh unto the sand-heap, drew forth the ark, carried it home vith him, and said unto his wife, who he thought was within the ark, * I shall pass this night in repeating the Zoka- prayers.' He threw off his upper garment. And THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 123 when he had done so, he lifted off tlio cover of the ark, and said, ' Maiden, be not alarmed 1 ' When ho was thus speaking, he beheld the tiger. " When some persons went into the chamber on the following morning, they found a tiger with his tusks and claws covered with blood, and the body of the beggar torn into pieces. " And the wife of the Chan gave birth to three sons, and lived in the enjoyment of plenty of all things. But the ministers and the people mur- mured, and said, * It was not well of the Chan that he drew forth his wife out of the earth. Al- though the wife of the Chan has given birth to the sons of the Clian, still she is but a low-born creature.* Thus spoke they, and the wife of the Chan received little joy therefrom. * I have borne three sons,' said she, * and yet am noways regarded ; I will therefore return home to my parents.' "She left the palace on the night of the full moon, and reached the neighbourhood of her parents at noontide. Where there had formerly been no- thing to be seen she saw a multitude of workmen busily employed, and among them a man having authority, who prepared meat and drink for them. ' Who art thou, maiden 1 ' inquired this man. * I come far from hence,' replied the wife of the Chan ; * but my parents formerly resided upon this moun- tain, and I have come hither to seek them.' " At these words the young man said, * Thou art 1 HI 124 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. then their daughter 1 ' and ho received for answer, ' I am their daughter.' " * I am their son,* said he. * I have been told that I had a sister older than myself. Art thou she ? Sit thee down, partake of this meat and this drink, and we will then go together unto our parents.* "When the wife of the Chan arrived at the summit of the mountain, she found in the place where the old pagoda stood a number of splendid buildings, with golden towers full of bells. And the hut of her parents was changed into a lordly mansion. * All this,* said her brotiier, ' belongs to us, since you took your departure. Our parents lived here in health and peace.' " In the palace there were horses and mules, and costly furniture in abundance. The father and mother were seated on rich pillows of silk, and gave their daughter welcome, saying, ' Thou art still well and happy. That thou hast returned home before we depart from this life is of a surety very good.' " After various inquiries had been made on both sides, relative to what had transpired during the separation of the parties, the old parents said, * Let us make these things known unto the Chan and his ministers.' " So the Chan and his ministers were loaded with presents, and three nights afterwards they were welcomed with meat and drink of the best. But THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 125 the Chan said, * Ye have spoken falsely, the wife of the Chan had no parents.' Now the Chan departed with his retinue, and his wife said, ' I will stop one more night with my parents, and then I will return unto you.* " C the following morning the wife of the Chan found herself on a hard bed, without pillows or coverlet-!. * What is this 1 ' exclaimed she ; * was I not this night with my father and mother — and did I not retire to sleep on a bed of silk ? ' " And when she rose up she beheld the ruined hut of her parents. Her father and mother were de&f^ ond their bones mouldered; their heads lay upon ii stone. Weeping loudly, she said unto her- self, *I will now look after the pagoda.' But she saw nothing but the ruins of the pagoda and of the Burchan. ' A godly providence,' exclaimed she, * has resuscitated my parents. Now since the Chan and the ministers will be pacified, I will return home again.' On her arrival in the kingdom of her husband, the ministers and the people came forth to meet her, and walked around her. 'This wife of the Chan,' cried they, * is descended from noble parents, has borne noble sons, and is herself welcome, pleasant, and charming.' Thus speaking, they accompanied the wife of the Chan to the palace." " Her merits must have been great." Thus spake the Son of the Chan. I 126 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. " Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words , S?j,rwala missdood jakzang ! ' Thus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air. Thus Ssidi's ele venth relation treats of the Maiden Ssuvvarandari, THE TWO CATS. In former days there was an old woman, who lived in a hut more confined than the minds of the igno- rant, and more dark than the tombs of misers. Her companion was a cat, fro.„ the mirror of whose imagination the appearance of bread had never been reflected, nor had she from friends or strangers ever heard its name. It was enough that she now and then scented a mouse, or observed the print of its feet on the floor ; when, blessed by favouring stars or benignant foriune', one fell into her claws — " She became like a beggar who discovers a treasure of gold; Her cheeks glowed with rapture, and past grief was consumed by present joy." This feast would last for a week or more ; and while enjoying it she was wont to exclaim — " Am I, O God, when I contemplate this, in a dream or awake ? Am I to experience such prosperity after such ad- versity ? " But as the dwelling of the old woman was in general the mansion of famine to this cat, she was 127 I 128 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. always complaining, and forming extravagant and fanciful schemes. One day, when reduced to extreme weakness, she, with much exertion, reached the top of the hut ; when there she observed a cat stalking on the wall of a neighbour's house, which, like a fierce tiger, advanced with measured steps, and was so loaded with flesh that she could hardly raise her feet. The old woman's iriend was amazed to see one of her own species so fat and sleek, and broke out into the following exclamation : — " Your stately strides have brought you here at last ; pray tell me from whence you come ? From whence have you arrived with so lovely an appear- ance? You look as if from the banquet of the Khan of Khatai. Where have you acquired such a comt'iness? and how came you by that glorious strength ? " The other answered, " I am the Sultan's crumb- eater. Each morning, when they spread the con- vivial table, I attend at the palace, and there exhibit my address and courage. From among the rich meats and wheat-cakes I cull a few choice morsels ; I then retire and pass my time till next day in delightful indolence." The old dame's cat requested to know what rich meat was, and what taste wheat-cakes had 1 "As for me," she added, in a melancholy tone, " during my life I have neither eaten nor seen anything but the old woman's gruel and the flesh of mice." The other, smiling, said, " This accounts for the difficulty r e I k f] V n a1 THE TWO CATS. 129 I find in distinguishing you from a spider. Your shape and stature is such as must make the whole generation of cats blush; and we must ever feel ashamed while you carry so miserable an appearance abroad. You certainly have the ears and tail of a cat, But in other respects you are a complete spider. Were you to see the Sultan's palace, and to smell his delicious viands, most undoubtedly those withered bones would be restored; you would re- ceive new life ; you would come from behind the curtain of invisibility into the plane of obi^ervation — When the perfume of his beloved passes over the tomb of a lover, Is it wonderful that his putrid bones should be re-ani- mated ? " The old woman's cat addressed the other in the most supplicating manner : " my sister ! " she exclaimed, " have I not the sacred claims of a neigh- bour upon you ? are we not linked in the ties of kindred 1 What prevents your giving a proof of friendship, by taking me with you when next you visit the palace ? Perhaps from your favour plenty may flow to me, and from your patronage I may attain dignity and honour. • Withdraw not from the friendship of the honourable ; Abandon not the support of the elect." The heart of the Sultan's crumb-eater was melted Oriental. t 111 130 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. m\ by this pathetic address; she promised her new- friend should accompany her on the next visit to the palace. The latter, overjoyed, went down imme- diately from the terrace, and communicated every particular to the Id woman, who addressed her with the following counsel : — "Be not deceived, my dearest friend, with the worldly language you have listened to; abandon not your corner of content, for the cup of the cove- tous is only to be filled by the dust of the grave, and the eye of cupidity and hope can only be closed by the needle of mortality and the thread of fate. It is content that makes men rich ; Mark this, ye avaricious, who traverse the world : He neither knows nor pays adoration to his God "Who is dissatisfied with hia condition and fortune." But the expected feast had taken such possession of poor puss's imagination, that the medicinal counsel of the old woman was thrown away. "The good advice of all the world is like wind in a cage, Or water in a sieve, when bestowed on the headstrong." To conclude : next day, accompanied by her com- panion, the half-starved cat hobbled to the Sultan's palace. Before this unfortunate wretch came, as it is decreed that the covetous shall be disappointed, an extraordinary event had occurred, and, owing to her evil destiny, the water of disappointment was poured on the flame of her immature ambition. The case was this : a whole legion of cats had the THE TWO CATS. 131 day before surrounded the feast, and made so much noise that they disturbed the guests ; and in con- sequence the Sultan had ordered that some archers armed with bows from Tartary should, on this day, be concealed, and that whatever cat advanced into the field of valour, covered with the shield of auda- city, should, on eating the first morsel, be overtaken with their arrows. The old dame's puss was not aware of this order. The moment the flavour of the viands reached her, she flew like an eagle to the place of her prey. Scarcely had the weight of a mouthful been placed in the scale to balance her hunger, when a heart-dividing arrow pierced her breast. A stream of blood rushed from the wound. She fled, in dread of death, after having exclaimed, "Should I esca})e from this terrific archer, I will be satisfied with my mouse and the miserable hut of my old mistress. My soul rejects the honey if accompanied by the sting. Content, with the most frugal fare, is preferable " H's it 3d, I to ras )n. ihe LEGEND OF DHUERUMNATH. During the reign of a mighty rajah named Giiddeh Sing, a celebrated, and .'is it is now supposed, deified priest, or hutteet, called Dhurrumnath, came, and in all the characteristic humility of his sect estab- lished a primitive and temporary resting-place within a few miles of the rajah's residence at Runn, near Mandavie. He was accompanied by his adopted son, Ghurreeb Nath. From this spot Dhurrumnath despatched his son to seek for charitable contributions from the in- habitants of the town. To this end Ghurreeb Nath made several visits; but being unsuccessful, and at the same time unwilling that his father should know of the want of liberality in the city, he at each visit purchased food out of some limited funds of his own. At length, his little hoard failing, on the sixth day he was obliged to confess the deceit he had practised. Dhurrumnath, on being acquainted with this, became extremely vexed, and vowed that from that day all the rajah's putteen cities should become 132 LEGEND OF DHURKUMNATII. 133 US, desolate and ruined. Tho tradition goes on to state that in due time these cities were destroyed ; Dhurrumnath, accompanied by his son, left the neighbourhood, and proceeded to Denodur. Finding it a desirable place, he determined on performing Tupseeah, or penance, for twelve years, and chose the form of standing on his head. On commencing to carry out this determination, he dismissed his son, who established his Doonee in the jungles, about twenty miles to the north-west of Bhooj. After Dhurrumnath had remained Tup- seeah for twelve years, he was visited by all the angels from heaven, who besought him to rise ; to which he replied, that if he did so, the portion of the country on which his sight would first rest would become barren : if villages, they would dis- appear ; if woods or fields, they would equally be destroyed. The angels then told him to turn his head to the north-east, where flowed the sea. Upon this he resumed his natural position, and, turning his head in - the direction he was told, opened his eyes, when immediately the sea dis- appeared, the stately ships became wrecks, and their crews were destroyed, leaving nothing behind but a barren, unbroken desert, known as the Runn. Dhurrumnath, too pure to remain on tho earth, partook of an immediate and glorious immortality, being at once absorbed into the spiritual nature of 134 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. the creating, the finishing, the indivisible, all-per- vading Brum. This self-imposed penance of Dhurrumnath has shed a halo of sanctity around the hill of Denodur, and was doubtless the occasion of its having been selected as a fitting site for a Jogie establishment, the members of which, it is probable, were origin- ally the attendants on a small temple that had been erected, and Avhich still remains, on the highest point of the hill, on tlie spot where the holy Dhur- rumnath is said to have performed his painful Tupseeah. THE TRAVELLER'S ADVENTURE. It is related that a man, mounted upon a camel, in the course of travelling arrived at a place where others from the same caravan had lighted a fire before proceeding on their journey. The fan-like wind, breathing on the embers, had produced a flame ; and the sparks, flying over the jungle, the dry wood had become ignited, and the whole plain glowed like a bed of tulips. In the midst of this was an enormous snake, which encircled by the flames, possessed no means of escape, and was about to be broiled like a fish, or kabobed like a partridge for the table. Blood oozed from its poison-charged eyes ; and, seeing the man and the camel, it thus supplicated for assistance — "What if in kindness thou voiichsafe me thy pity ; Loosen the knot with which my affairs are entangled." Now the traveller was a good man, and one who feared God. When he heard the complaint of the snake, and saw its pitiable condition, he reasoned thus with himself: "This snake is, indeed, the 135 Hi 136 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALEP.. enemy of man, but being in trouble and perplexity, it would be most commendable in me to drop the seed of compassion, the fruit of which is prosperity in this world, and exaltation in the next." Thus convinced, he fastened one of his saddle-bags to the end of his spear, and extended it to the snake, which, delighted at escape, entered the bag, and was rescued from the flames. The man then opening the mouth of the bag, addressed it thus : " Depart whither thou wilt, but forget not to offer up thanks- giving for thy preservation; henceforth seek the corner of retirement, and cease to afflict mankind, for they who do so are dishonest in this world and the next — Fear God — distress no one ; This indeed is true salvation." The snake replied, " young man, hold thy peace, for truly I will not depart until I have wounded both thee and this camel." The man cried out, " But how is this 1 Have I not rendered thee a benefit 1 Why, then, is such to be my recompense ? On my part there was faithfulness, Why then this injustice upon thine ? " The snake said, " True, thou hast shown mercy, but it was to an unworthy object; thou knowest me to be an agent of injury to mankind, conse- quently, when thou savedst me from destruction, J THE TRAVELLER S ADVENTURE. 137 thou subjectedst thyself to the same rule tliat applies to the punishment due for an evil act com- mitted against a worthy object. " Again, between the snake and man there is a long-standing enmity, and they who employ fore- sight hold it as a maxim of wisdom to bruise the head of an enemy ; to thy security my destruction was necessary, but, in showing mercy, thou hast forfeited vigilance. It is now necessary that I should wound thee, that others may learn by thy example." The man cried, " snake, call but in ii:o counsel of justice ; in what creed is it written, or what practice declares, that evil should be returned for good, or that the pleasure of conferring benefits should be returned by injury and affliction 1 " The snake replied, " Such is the practice amongst men. I act according to thy own decree ; the same commodity of retribution I have purchased from thee I also sell. Buy for one moment that which thou sell'at for years." In vain did the traveller entreat, the snake ever replying, " I do but treat thee after the manner of men." This the man denied. " But," said he, " let us call witnesses : if thou prove thy assertion, I will yield to thy will." The snake, looking round, saw a cow grazing at a distance, and said, " Come, we will ask this cow the rights of the question." When 138 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALKS. '■lii ri'i thoy came up to the cow, the snake, opening its mouth, said, " cow, what is the r'^compcnso for benefits received'?" The cow said, " If thou ask mo after the manner of men, the return of good is always evil. For instance, I was for a long time in the service of a farmer ; yearly I brought forth a calf; I supplied his house with milk and ghee ; his sustenance, and the life of his children, depended upon me. When I became old, and no longer produced young, he ceased to shelter me, and thrust me forth to die in a jungle. After finding forage, and roaming at my ease, I grew fat, and my old master, seeing my plump condition, yesterday brought with him a butcher, to whom he has sold me, and to-day is appointed for my slaughter." The snake said, " Thou hast heard the cow ; pre- pare to die quickly." The man cried, "It is not lawful to decide a case on the evidence of one witness, let us then call another." The snake looked about and saw a tree, leafless and bare, flinging up its wild branches to the sky. "Let us," said it, " appeal to this tree." They proceeded together to the tree; and the snake, opening its mouth, said, " tree, what is the recompense for good 1 " The tree said, "Amongst men, for benefits are returned evil and injury. I will give you a proof of what I assert. I am a tree which, though growing on one leg in this sad waste, was once flourishing «■ (I ^1 THE TKAVELLEU'S ADVENTUUE. 139 and green, performing service to every one. When any of the human race, overcome with heat and travel, came tliis way, tliey rested beneath my sliade, and slept beneath my branches ; when the weight of repose abandoned their eyelids, they cast up their eyes to me, and said to each other, ' Yon twig would do well for an arrow ; that branch would serve for a plough ; and from the trunk of this tree what beautiful planks might be made ! ' If they had an axe or a saw, they selected my branches, and carried them away. Thus they to whom I gave ease and rest rewarded me only with pain and affliction. Whilst my care overshadows him in perplexity, He meditates only how best to root me up." " Well," said the snake, '* here are two witnesses ; therefore, form thy resolution, for I must wound thee." The man said, "True; but the love of life is powerful, and while strength remains, it is difficult to root the love of it from the heart. Call but one more witness, and then I pledge myself to submit to his decree." Now it so wonderfully happened that a fox, who had been standing by, had heard all the argument, and now came forward. The snake on seeing it exclaimed, "Behold this fox, let us ask it." But before the man could speak the fox cried out, " Dost thou not know that the recompense for good is always evil 1 But what good hast thou done in behalf of this snake, to render thee worthy 140 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. nil of punishment 1 " The man related his story. The fox replied, "Thou seemest an intelligent person, why then dost thou tell me an untruth 1 How can it be proper for him that is wise to speak falsely ? How can it become an intelligent man to state an untruth ? " The snake said, "The man speaks truly, for behold the bag in which he rescued me." The fox, putting on the garb of astonishment, said, " How can I believe this thing 1 How could a large snake such as thou be contained in so small a space 1 " The snake said, " If thou doubt me, I will again enter the bag to prove it." The fox said, " Truly if I saw thee there, I could believe it, and afterwards settle the dispute between thee and this man." On this the traveller opened the bag, and the snake, annoyed at the disbelief of the fox, entered it ; which observing, the fox cried out, "0 young man, when thou hast caught thine enemy, show him no quarter. When an enemy is vanquished, and in thy power. It is the maxim of the wise to show him no mercy." The traveller took the hint of the fox, fastened the mouth of the bag, and, dashing it against a stone, destroyed the snake, and thus saved mankind from the evil effects of its wicked propensities. I 4 1 THE SEVEN STAGES OF KOOSTEM. Persia was at peace, and prosperous; but its king, Ky-Kaoos, could never remain at rest. A favourite singer gave him one day an animated account of the beauties of the neighbouring kingdom of Mazf nderan : its ever-blooming roses, its melodious nightingales, its verdant plains, its mountains shaded with lofty trees, and adorned to their summits with flowers which perfumed the air, its clear murmuring rivulets, and, above all, its lovely damsels and valiant warriors. All these were described to the sovereign in such glowing colours that he quite lost his reason, and declared he should never be happy till his power extended over a country so favoured by Nature. It was in vain that his wisest ministers and most attached nobles dissuaded him from so hazardous an. enterprise as that of invading a region which had, besides other defenders, a number of Deevs, or demons, who, acting under their renowned chief, Deev-e-Sefieed, or the White Demon, had hitherto defeated all enemies. 141 142 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. Ky-Kiioos would not listen to his nobles, who in despair sent for old Zal, the father of Eoostem, and prince of Seestan. Zal came, and used all his efforts, but in vain ; the monarch was involved in clouds of pride, and closed a discussion he had with Zal by exclaiming, " The Creator of the world is my friend ; the chief of the Deevs is my prey." This impious boasting satisfied Zal he could do no good ; and he even refused to become regent of Persia in the absence of Ky-Kaoos, but promised to aid with his counsel. The king departed to anticipated conquest ; but the prince of Mazenderan summoned his forces, and, above all, the Deev-e-Seffeed and his band. They came at his call : a great battle ensued, in which the Persians were completely defeated. Ky-Kaoos was made prisoner, and confined in a strong fortress under the guard of a hundred Deevs, commanded by Arjeng, who was instructed to ask the Persian monarch every morning how he liked the roses, nightingales, flowers, trees, verdant meadows, shady mountains, clear streams, beautiful damstls, and valiant warriors of Mazenderan. The news of this disaster soon spread over Persia, and notwithstanding the disgust of old ZjII at the headstrong folly of his monarch, he •vvas deeply afflicted at the tale of his misfortune and disgrace. He sent for Eoostem, to whom he said, " Go, my son, and with thy single arm, and thy good horse, THE SEVEN STAGES OF ROOSTEM. 143 Reksh, release our sovereign." Eoostem instantly obeyed. There were two roads, but he chose the nearest, though it was reported to be by far the most difficult and dangerous. Fatigued with his first day's journey, Roostem lay down to sleep, having turned Reksh loose to graze in a neighbouring meadow, where he was attacked by a furious lion; but this wonderful horse, after a short contest, struck his antagonist to the ground with a blow from his fore-hoof, and completed the victory by seizing the throat of the royal animal with his teeth. When Roostem awoke, he was surprised and enraged. He desired Reksh never again to attempt, unaided, such an encounter. " Hadst thou been slain," asked he of the intelli- gent brute, " how should I have accomplished my enterprise 1 " At the second stage Roostem had nearly died of thirst, but his prayers to the Almighty were heard. A fawn appeared, as if to be his guide; and following it, he was conducted to a clear fountain, where, after regaling on the flesh of a wild ass, which he had killed with his bow, he lay down to sleep. In the middle of the night a monstrous serpent, seventy yards in length, came out of its hiding-place, and made at the hero, who was awaked by the neighing of Reksh; but the serpent had crept back to its hiding-place, and Roostem, seeing no danger, abused his faithful horse for disturbing his repose. Another 144 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. attempt of the serpent was defeated in the same way; but as the monster had again concealed it- self, Eoostem lost all patience with Reksh, whom he threatened to put to death if he again awaked him by any such unseasonable noises. The faithful steed, fearing his master's rage, but strong in his attachment, instead of neighing when the serpent again made his appearance, sprang upon it, and commenced a furious contest. Eoostem, hearing the noise, started up and joined in the combat. The serpent darted at him, but he avoided it, and, while his noble horse seized their enemy by the back, the hero cut off its head with his sword. When the serpent was slain, Eoostem contem- plated its enormous size with amazement, and, with that piety which always distinguished him, returned thanks to the Almighty for Ids miraculous escape. Next day, as Eoostem sat by a fountain, he saw a beautiful damsel regaling herself with wine. He approached her, accepted her invitation to partake of the beverage, and clasped her in his arms as if she had been an angel. It happened, in the course of their conversation, that the Persian hero men- tioned the name of the great God he adored. At the sound of that sacred word the fair features and shape of the female changed, and she became black, ugly, and deformed. The astonished Eoostem seized her, and after binding her hands, bid her [ declare who she was. a am a sorceress," wais the I Tin: SEVEN STAGES OF ROOSTEM. 145 reply, " and have been employed by the evil spirit Aharman for thy destruction ; but save my life, and I am powerful to do thee service." "I make no compact with the devil or his agents," said the hero, and cut her in twain. He again poured forth his soul in thanksgiving to God for his doliv ance. On his fourth stage Roostem lost his way. While wandering about he came to a clear rivulet, on the banks of which he lay down to take some repose, having first turned Reksh loose into a field of grain. A gardener who had charge of it came and awoke the hero, telling him in an insolent tone that he would soon suffer for his temerity, as the field in which his horse was feeding belonged to a pehloovan, or warrior, called Oulad. Roostem, always iras- cible, but particularly so when disturbed in his slumbers, jumped up, tore off the gardener's ears, and gave him a blow with his fist that broke his nose and teeth. " Take these marks of my temper to your master," he said, " and tell him to come here, and he shall have a similar welcome." Oulad, when informed of what had passed, was excited to fury, and prepared to assail the Persian hero, who, expecting him, had put on his armour and mounted Reksh. His appearance so dismayed Oulad that he dared not venture on the combat till he had summoned his adherenib. They all fell upon Roostem at once ; but the base-born caitiffs were scattered like chaff before the wind; many OrietUal. K im ^ 146 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. were slain, others fled, among whom was their chief. Him Roostem came up with at the fifth stage, and having thrown his noose over him, took him prisoner. Oulad, in order to save his life, not only gave him full information of the place where his sovereign was confined, and of the strength of the Deev-e- Seffeed, but offered to give the hero every aid in the accomplishment of his perilous enterprise. This offer was accepted, and he proved a most useful auxiliary. On the sixth day they saw in the distance the city of Mazenderan, near which the Deev-e-Sefieed resided. Two chieftains, with numerous attendants, met them ; and one had the audacity to ride up to Roostem, and seize him by the belt. That chief's fury at this insolence was unbounded ; he disdained, however, to use his arms against such an enemy, but, seizing the miscreant's head, wrenched it from the body, and hurled it at his companions, who fled in terror and dismay at this terrible proof of the hero's prowess. Roostem proceeded, after this action, with his guide to the castle where the king was confined. The Deevs who guarded it were asleep, and Ky- K^oos was found in a solitary cell, chained to the ground. He recognised Roostem, and bursting into tears, pressed his deliverer to his bosom. Roostem immediately began to knock off his chains. The noise occasioned by this awoke the Deevs, whose THE SEVEN STAG:?S OF ROOSTEM. 147 leader, Beedar-Keng, advanced to seize Roostem ; but the appearance and threats of the latter so overawed him that he consented to purchase his own safety by the instant release of the Persian king and all his followers. After this achievement Roostem proceeded to the last and greatest of his labours, the attack of the Deev-e-Seffeed. OulM told him that the Deevs watched and feasted during the night, but slept during the heat of the day, hating (according to our narrator) the sunbeams. Roostem, as he ad- vanced, saw an immense army drawn out ; he thought it better, before he attacked them, to re- fresh himself by some repose. Having laid himself down, he soon fell into a sound sleep, and at day- light he awoke quite refreshed. As soon as the sun became warm, he rushed into the camp. The heavy blows of his mace soon awoke the surprised and slumbering guards of the Deev-e-Seffeed ; they collected in myriads, hoping to impede his progress, but all in vain. The rout became general, and none escaped but those who fled from the field of battle. When this army was dispersed, Roostem went in search of the Deev-e-Seffeed, who, ignorant of the fate of his followers, slumbered in the recess of a cavern, the entrance to which looked so dark and gloomy that the Persian hero hesitated whether he should advance ; but the noise of his approach had 148 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. roused his enemy, who came forth, clothed in com- plete armour. His appearance was terrible; but Eoostem, recommending his soul to God, struck a desperate blow, which separated the leg of the Deev from his body. This would on common occasions have terminated the contest, but far different was the result on the present. Irritated to madness by the loss of a limb, the monster seized his enemy in his arms, and endeavoured to throw him down. The struggle was for some time doubtful ; but Koostera, collecting all his strength, by a wondrous effort dashed his foe to the ground, and seizing him by one of the horns, unsheathed his dagger and stabbed him to the heart. The Deev-e-Seffeed instantly expired ; and Eoostem, on looking round to the entrance of the cavern, from whence the moment before he had seen numberless Deevs issuing to the aid of their lord, perceived they were all dead. Oulad, who stood at a prudent distance from the scene of combat, now advanced and in- formed the hero that the lives of all the Deevs depended upon that of their chief. When he was slain, the spell which created and preserved this band was broken, and they all expired. Eoostem found little difficulty after these seven days of toil, of danger, and of glory, in compelling Mazenderan to submit to Persia. The king of the country was slain, and Oulad was appointed its governor as a reward for his fidelity. I THE SEVEN STAGES OF ROOSTEM. 149 The success of his arras had raised Ky-Kjloos to the very plenitude of power ; not only men, but Deevs, obeyed his mandates. The latter he em- ployed in building palaces of crystal, emeralds, and rubies, till at last they became quite tired of their toil and abject condition. They sought, therefore, to destroy him ; and to effect this they consulted with the devil, who, to forward the object, instructed a Deev, called Dizjkheem, to go to Ky-Kaoos and raise in his mind a passion for astronomy, and to promise him a nearer view of the celestial bodies than had ever yet been enjoyed by mortal eyes. The Deev fulfilled his commission Avith such success that the king became quite wild with a desire to attain perfection in this sublime science. The devil then instructed Dizjkheem to train some young vultures to carry a throne upwards ; this was done by placing spears round the throne, on the points of which pieces of flesh were fixed in view of the vul- tures, who were fastened at the bottom. These voracious birds, in their efforts to reach the meat, raised the throne. Though he mounted rapidly for a short time, the vultures became exhausted, and finding their efforts to reach the meat hopeless, discontinued them ; this altered the direction and equilibrium of the machine, and it tossed to and fro. Ky-Kaoos would have been cast headlong and IiHlll>WllllllllJ m"^ 152 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. bub I see the traces of affluence upon thee, though thou art in this condition." The young man re- plied, "0 uncle, what fate and destiny have ordained hath come to pass. But liast thou, uncle, comely-faced, any business in which to employ me?" The man said to him, "0 my son, I desire to employ thee in an easy business," Tiie youth asked, " And what is it, uncle 1 " And the man answered him, " I have with me ten sheykhs in one abode, and we have no one to perform our wants. Thou shalt receive from us, of food and clothing, what will suffice thee, and shalt serve us, and thou shalt receive of us thy portion of benefits and money. Perhaps, also, God will restore to thee thine affluence by our means." The youth there- fore replied, " I hear and obey." The sheykli then said to him, " I have a condition to impose upon thee." " And what is thy condition, O uncle 1 " asked the youth. He answered him, " my son, it is that thou keep our secret with respect to the things that thou shalt see us do ; and when thou seest us weep, that thou ask us not respecting the cause of our weeping." And the young man re- plied, " Well, uncle." So the sheykh said to him, " my son, come with us, relying on the blessing of God (whose name be exalted !)." And the young man followed the sheykh until the latter conducted him to the bath ; after which he sent a man, who brought him THE MAN WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 153 a comely garment of linen, and ho clad him with it, and went with him to his abode and his associates. And when the young man entered, he found it to be a high mansion, with lofty angles, ample, Avith chambers facing one another, and saloons ; and in each saloon was a fountain of water, and birds were warbling over it, and there were windows overlook- ing, on every side, a beautiful garden within the mansion. The sheykh conducted him into one of the chambers, and he found it decorated with coloured marbles, and its ceiling ornamented with blue and brilliant gold, and it was spread with carpets of silk ; and he found in it ten sheykhs sitting facing one another, wearing the garments of mourning, weeping, and wailing. So the young man wondered at their case, and was about to question the sheykh who had brought him, but he remembered the condition, and therefore withheld his tongue. Then the sheykh committed to the young man a chest containing thirty thousand pieces of gold, saying to him, " my son, expend upon us out of this chest, and upon thyself, according to what is just, and be thou faithful, and take care of that wlrerewith I have intrusted thee." And the young man replied, " I hear and obey." He continued to expend upon them for a period of days and nights, after which one of them died ; whereupon his companions took him, and washed him and shrouded him, and buried him in a garden behind the mansion. And death ^ % 154 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. '"^1 ceased not to take of them one after another, until there remained only the sheykh who had hired the young man. So he remained with the young man in that mansion, and there was not with them a third; and they remained thus for a period of years. Then the sheykh fell sick; and when the young man despaired of his life, he addressed him with courtesy, and was grieved for him, and said to him, " O uncle, I have served you, and not failed in your service one hoar for a period of twelve years, but have acted faithfully to you, and served you according to my power and ability." The sheykh replied, " Yes, my son, thou hast served us until these sheykhs have been taken unto God (to whom be ascribed might and glory !), and we must inevit- al?ly die." And the young man said, " my master, thou art in a state of peril, and I desire of thee that thou inform me what hath been the 'cause of your weeping, and the continuance of your wailing and your mourning and your sorro v." He replied, "0 my son, thou hast no concern with that, and require me not to do what I am unable ; for I have begged God (whose name be exalted*) not to afflict any one with luy affliction. Now if thou desire to be safe from that into which we have fallen, open not that door," and he pointed to it with his hand, and cautioned him against it ; " and if thou desire that what hath befallen us should befall thee, open it, and thou wilt know the cause of that which thou % x^ THE MAN WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 155 hast beheld in our conduct ; but thou wilt repent, when repentance will not avail thee" Then the illness increased upon the sheykh, and he died ; and the young man washed him with his own hands, and shrouded him, and buried him by his companions. He remained in th.«t place, possessing it and all the treasure ; but notwithstanding this, he was uneasy, reflecting upon the conduct of the sheykhs. And while he was meditating one day upon the words of the sheykh, and his charge to him not to open the door, it occurred to his mind that he might look at it. So he went in that direction, and searched until he saw an elegant door, over which the spider had woven its v/ebs, and upon it were four locks of steel. When he beheld it, he remembered how the sheykh had cautioned him, and he departed from it. His soul desired him to open the door, and he restrained it during a period of seven days ; but on the eighth day his soul over- came him, and he said, " I must open that door, and see what will happen to me in consequence; for nothing will repel what God (whose name be exalted!) decreeth and predestineth, and no event will hai)pen but by His will." Accordingly he arose and opened the door, after he had broken the locks. And when he had opened the door he saw a narrow passage, along which he walked for the space of three hours ; and lo ! he came forth upon the bank sm 156 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. of a great river. At this tho young man wondered. And he walked along the bank, looking to the right and left ; and behold ! a great eagle descended from the sky, and taking up the young man with its talons, it flew with him, between heaven and earth, until it conveyed him to an island in the midst of the sea. There it threw him down, and departed from him. So the young man was perplexed at his case, not kno^ving whither to go ; but while he was sitt^Vig one day, lo ! the sail of a vessel appeared to him upon the sea, like the star in the sky ; wherefore the heart of the young man became intent upon the vessel, in the hope that his escape might be effected in it. He contirued looking at it until it came near unto him ; and when it arrived, he beheld a bark of ivory and ebony, the oars of which were of sandal- wood and aloes-wood, and the whole of it was encased with plates of brilliant gold. There were also in it ten damsels, virgins, like moons. When the damsels saw him, they landed to him from the bark, and kissed his hands, saying to him, " Thou art the king, the bridegroom." Then there advanced to him a damsel who was like the shining sun in the clear sky, having in her hand a kerchief of silk, in which were a royal robe, and a crown of gold set with varieties of jacinths. Having ad- vanced to him, she clad him and crowned him ; after which the damsels carried him in their arms THE MAN WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 157 to the bark, and he found in it varieties of carpets of silk of divers colours. They then spread the sails, and proceeded over the depths of the sea. " Now when I proceeded with them," says the young man, " I felt sure that tliis was a dream, and knew not whither they were going with me. And when they came in sight of the land, I beheld it filled with troops, the number of wliich none knew but God (whose perfection be extolled, and whose name be exalted !) clad in coats of mail. They brought forward to me five marked horses, with saddles of gold, set with varieties of pearls and precious stones ; and I took a horse from among these and mounted it. The four others proceeded with me ; and when I mounted, the ensigns and banners were set up over my head, the drums and the cymbals were beaten, and the troops disposed themselves in two divisions, right and left. I wavered in opinion as to whether I were asleep or awake, and ceased not to advance, not believing in the reality of my stately processior but imagin- ing that it was the result of confused dreams, until we came in sight of a verdant meadow, in which were palaces and gardens, and trees and rivers and flowers, and birds proclaiming the perfection of God, the One, the Omnipotent. And now there came forth an army from among those palaces and gardens, like the torrent when it poui -th down, until it filled the meadow. When the troops drew I 1 M, ij 158 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. I I'! ■r : near to me, they hailed, and lo ! a king advanced I'rom among them, riding alone, preceded by some of his chief officers walking." The king, on approaching the young man, alighted from his courser ; and the young man, seeing him do so, alighted also ; and they saluted each other with the most courteous salutation. Then they mounted their horses again, and the king said to the young man, " Accompany us ; for thou art my guest." So the young man proceeded with him, and they conversed together, while the stately trains in orderly disposition went on before them to the palace of the king, where they alighted, and all of them entered, together with the king and the young man, the young man's hand being in the hand of the king, who thereupon seated him on the throne of gold and seated himself beside him. When the king removed the litham from his face, lo ! this supposed king was a damsel, like the shining sun in the clear sky, a lady of beauty and loveliness, and elegance and perfection, and conceit and amorous dissimulation. The young man beheld vast affluence and great prosperity, and wondered at the beauty and loveliness of the damsel. Then the damsel said to him, " Know, king, that I am the queen of this land, and all these troops that thou hast seen, including every one, whether of cavalry or infantry, are women. There are not among them any men. The men among us, in this land, till and sow and ^ THE MAN WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 159 reap, employing themselves in the cultivation of the land, and tbe building and ropairing of the towns, and in attending to the affiiirs of the people, by the pursuit of every kind of art and trade ; but as to the women, they are the governors and magistrates and soldiers." And the young man wondered at this extremely. And while they were thus conversing, the vizier entered ; and lo ! she was a grey-haired old woman, having a numerous retinue, of venerable and dignified appearance ; and the queen said to her, " Bring to us the Kddee and the witnesses." So the old woman went for that purpose. And the queen turned towards the young man, conversing with him and cheering him, and dispelling his fear by kind words ; and, addressing him courteously, she said to him, " Art thou content for me to be thy wife 1 " And thereupon he arose and kissed the ground before her ; but she forbade him ; and he replied, " my mistress, I am less than the servants who serve thee." She then said to him, " Seest thou not these servants and scldiers and wealth and treasures and hoards 1 " He answered her, " Yes." And she said to him, " All these are at thy disposal ; thou shalt make use of them, and give and bestow as seemeth fit to thee." Then she pointed to a closed door, and said to him, " All these things thou shalt dispose of ; but this door thou shalt not open ; for if thou open it, thou wilt repent, when repent- ance will not avail thee." Her words were not 160 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. ended when the vizier, witli the Kadee and the witnesses, entered, and all of them were old women, Avith their hair spreading over their shoulders, and of venerable and dignified appearance. When they came before the queen, she ordered them to per- form the ceremony of the marriage-contract. So they married her to the young man. And she pre- pared the banquets and collected the troops ; and when they had eaten and drunk, the young man took her as his wife. And he resided with her seven years, passing the most delightful, comfortable, and agreeable life. But he meditated one day upon opening the door, and said, "Were it not that there are within it great treasures, better than what I have seen, she had not prohibited me from opening it." He then arose and opened the door, and lo ! within it was the bird that had carried him from the shore of the great river, and deposited him upon the island. When the bird beheld him, it said to him, "No welcome to a face that will never be happy ! " So, when he saw it and heard its words, he Hed from it ; but it followed him and carried him off, and flew with him between heaven and earth for the space of an hour, and at length deposited him in the place from which it had carried him away ; after which it disappeared. He thereupon sat in that place, and, returning to his reason, he reflected upon what he had seen of affluence and glory and honour, and the THE MAN WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 161 riding of the troops before him, and commanding and forbidding ; and he wept and wailed. He remained upon the shore of the great river, where that bird had put him, for the space of two months, wishing that he might return to his wife; but while he was one night awake, mourning and meditating, some one spoke (and he heard his voice, but saw not his person), calling out, " How great were the delights ! Far, far from thee is the return of what is passed ! And how many therefore will be the sighs ! " So when the young man heard it, he despaired of meeting again that queen, and of the return to him of the affluence in which he had been living. He then entered the mansion where the sheykhs had resided, and knew that they had ex- perienced the like of that which had happened unto him, and that this was the cause of their weeping and their mourning; wherefore he excused them. Grief and anxiety came upon the young man, and he entered his chamber, and ceased not to weep and moan, relinquishing food and drink and pleasant scents and laughter, until he died ; and he was buried by the side of the sheykhs. Oriental, .,mt , THE FOX AND THE AVOLF. A FOX and a wolf inhabited the same den, resorting thither together, and thus they remained a long time. But the wolf oppressed the fox ; and it so happened that the fox counselled the wolf to assume benignity, and to abandon wickedness, saying to him, " If thou persevere in thine arrogance, probably God will give power over thee to a son of Adam ; for he is possessed of stratagems, and artifice, and guile ; he captureth the birds from the sky, and the fish from the sea, and cutteth the mountains and transporteth them ; and all this he accomplisheth through his stratagems. Betake thyself, therefore, to the practice of equity, and relinquish evil and oppression ; for it will be more pleasant to thy taste." The wolf, however, received not his advice ; on the contrary, he returned him a rough reply, saying to him, " Thou hast no right to speak on matters of magnitude and importance." He then gave the fox such a blow that he fell down senseless ; and when he recovered, he smiled in the wolf's face, 162 THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 163 ,11 en te. apologising for his shameful words, and recited these two verses : — " If I have been faulty in my aflfection for you, and committed a deed of a shameful nature, I repent of my offence, and your clemency will extend to the evildoer wlio ciavoth forgiveness." So the wolf accepted his apology, and ceased from ill-treating him, but said to him, " Speak not of that which concerneth thee not, lest thou hear that which will not please thee." The fox replied, " I hear and obey. I will abstain from that which pleaseth thee not ; for the sage hath said, ' Offer not information on a subject respecting which thou art not ques- tioned ; and reply not to woi is when thou art not invited ; leave what concerneth thee not, to attend to that which doth concern thee ; and lavish not advice upon the evil, for they will recompense thee for it with evil.' " When the wolf heard these words uf the fox, he smiled in his face ; but he meditated upon employing some artifice against him, and said, " I must strive to effect the destruction of this fox." As to the fox, however, he bore patiently the injurious conduct of the wolf, saying within himself, " Verily, insolence and calumny occasion destruction, and betray one into perplexity ; for it hath been said, ' He who is insolent suffereth injury, and he who is ignorant repenteth, and he who feareth is safe : moderation is one of the qualities of the noble, and good manners are the noblest gain.' It is advisable to 1G4 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. behave with dissimulation towards this tyrant, and he will inevitably be overthrown." He then said to the wolf, " Verily the Lord pardoneth and becometh propitious unto His servant when he hath sinned ; and I am a weak slave, and have committed a transgression in offering thee advice. Had I foreknown the pain that I have suffered from thy blow, I had known that the elephant could not withstand nor endure it ; but I will not complain of the pain of that blow, on account of the happiness that hath resulted unto me from it ; for, if it had a severe effect upon me, its result was happiness ; and the sage hath said, ' The beating inflicted by the preceptor is at first extremely grievous ; but in the end it is sweeter than clarified honey ! '" So the wolf said, " I forgive thine offence, and cancel thy fault ; but beware of my power, and confess thyself my slave ; for thou hast experienced my severity unto him who showeth me hostility." The fox, therefore, prostrated himself before him, saying to him, " May God prolong thy life, and mayest thou not cease to subdue him who opposeth thee ! " And he continued to fear the wolf, and to dissemble towards him. After this the fox went one day to a vineyard, and saw in its wall a breach ; but he suspected it, saying unto himself, " There must be some cause for this breach, and it hath been said, ' Whoso seeth a hole in the ground, and doth not shun it, and be THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 165 c.iutioiis of advancing to it boldly, cxposeth himself to danger and destruction.' It is well known that some men make a figure of the fox in the vineyard, and even put before it grapes in plates, in order chat a fox may see it, and advance to it, and fall into destruction. Verily I regard this breach as a snare ; and it hath been said, ' Caution is the half of cleverness.' Caution requireth me to examine this breach, and to see if I can find there anything that may lead to perdition. Covetousness doth not induce me to throw myself into destruction." He then approached it, and, going round about ex- amining it warily, beheld it ; and lo ! there was a deep pit, Avhich the owner of the vineyard had dug to catch in it the wild beasts that despoiled the vines ; and he observed over it a slight covering. So he drew back from it, and said, " Praise be to God that I regarded it with caution ! I hope that my enemy, the wolf, who hath made my life miser- able, may fall into it, so that I alone may enjoy absolute power over the vineyard, and live in it securely." Then, shaking his head, and uttering a loud laugh, he merrily sang these verses — " Would that I beheld at the present moment in this well a wolf, Who hath long afflicted my heart, and made me drink bitterness perforce ! Would that my life might be spared, and that the wolf might meet his death! Then the vineyard would be free from his presence, and I should find in it my spoil." Ififi ORIENTAL FOLKLOUK TALES. m ■> m ^^ Having finished his song, he hurried away until he came to the wolf, when ho said to him, " Verily God hath smoothed for thee the way to the vine- yard without fatigue. Tiiis hath happened through thy good fortune. May est thou enjoy, therefore, that to which God hath granted thee access, in smoothing thy way to that plunder and that abun- dant sustenance without any difficulty ! " So the wolf said to the fox, " What is the proof of that which thou hast declared 1 " The fox answered, " I went to the vineyard, and found that its owner had died ; and I entered the garden, and beheld the fruits shining upon the trees." So the wolf doubted not the words of the fox, and in his eagerness he arose and went to the breach. His cupidity had deceived him with vain hopes, and the fox stopped and fell down behind him as one dead, applying this verse as a proverb suited to the case — " Dost thou covet an intei'view with Leyla ? It is covetous- ness that causeth the lo^s of men's heads." When the wolf came to the breach, the fox said to him, " Enter the vineyard ; for tliou art spared the trouble of breaking down the wall of the garden, and it remaineth for God to complete the benefit." So the wolf walked forward, desiring to enter the vineyard, and when he came to the middle of the covering of the hole, he fell into it ; whereupon the fox was violently excited by happiness and joy, his THE FOX AND THE WOLK. 167 1 anxiety and grief ceased, and in merry tones he sang these verses — "Fortune hath compassionated my case, and felt pity for the length of my torment, And granted me what I desired, and removed that which I dreaded. I will, therefore, forgive its offences committed in former times ; Even the injustico it hath shown in the turning of my hair grey. There is no escape for the wolf from ntter annihilation ; And the vineyard is for me alone, and I have no stupid l)artner." He then looked into the pit, and beheld the wolf weeping in his repentance and sorrow for himself, and the fox wept with liim. So the wolf raised his head towards him, and said, " Is it from thy com- passion for me that thou hast wept, Abu-1- Hoseyn 1 " " No," answered the fox, " by him who cast thee into this pit ; but I weep for the length of thy past life, and in my regret at thy not having fallen into this pit before the present day. Hadst thou fallen into it before I met with thee, I had experienced refreshment and ease. But thou hast been ijpared to the expiration of thy decreed term and known period." The wolf, however, said to him, " Go, evildoer, to my mother, and acquaint her with that which hath happened to me ; perl: ips she will contrive some means for my deliverance." But the fox replied, " The excess of thy covetous- ness and eager desire has entrapped thee into de- 168 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. stru'^tion, since thou liast fallen into a pit from which thou wilt never be saved. Knowest thou not, ignorant wolf, that the author of the proverb saith, ' He who thinks not of results will not be secure from perils 1'" " Abu-1-Hoseyn!" rejoined the wolf, " thou wast wont to manifest an affection for me, and to desire my friendship, and fear the greatness of my power. Be not, then, rancorous towards me for that which I have done unto thee ; for he who hath one in his power, and yet forgiveth, will receive a recompense from God, and the poet hath said — " ' Sow good, even on an unworthy soil ; for it will not be fruitless wherever it is sown. Verily, good, though it remain..' long buried, none will reap but him who sowed it.' " " most ignorant of tl^e beasts of prey ! " said the fox, " and most stupid of the wild beasts of the regions of the earth, hast thou forgotten thy haughti- ness, and insolence, and pride and thy disregarding the rights of companionship, and thy refusing to be advised by the saying of the poet 1 — " ' Tyrannise not, if thou hast the power to do so ; for the tyrannical is in danger oi revenge, Thine eye will sleep while the oppressed, wakeful, will call down curses on thee, and God's eye dlee])eth not.'" " Abu-1-Hoseyn ! " exclaimed the wolf, " be not angrv with mo for my former offences, for forgive- ness is required of the gc nerous, and kind conduct THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 169 is among the best means of enriching one's-self. How excellent is the saying of the poet — " * Haste to do good when thou art able ; ior at every season thou hast not the power.' " He continued to abase himself to the fox, and said to him, " Perhaps thou canst find some meaas of delivering me from destruction." But the fox replied, " artful, guilt 1 ,1, treacherous wolf! hope not for deliverance ; for this is the recompense of thy base conduct, and a just retaliation." Then, shaking his jaws with laughing, he recited these two verses — " No longer attempt to beguile me ; for thou wilt not attain thy object. What thou seekest fi.im me is impossible. Thou hast sown, and reap, then, vexation." " gentle one among the beasts of prey ! " re- sumed the wolf, " thou art in my estimation more faithful than to leave me in this pit." He then shed tears, and repeated this couplet — "0 thou whose favours to uie have been many, and whose gifts have been more than can be nuiiibered ! No misfortune hath ever yet befallen me but I have found thee ready to aid me in it."' The fox replied, " O stupid enemy, how art thou reduced to humility, submissiveness, abjectness, and obsequiousness, after thy disdain, pride, tyranny, and haughtiness ! T kept company with theo through fear of thine oppressiori, and flattered thee P f' 1:1 I' ■'■i\ P s ^^■^^■^^H 170 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. without a hope of conciliating thy kindness; but now tenor hath affected thee, and punishment hath overtaken thee." And he recited these two verses — " tlioii who seekest to beguile ! thou hast fallen in tliy base intention. Taste, then, the pain of shameful calamity, and be with other wolves cut oil." The wolf still entreated him, saying, " gentle one ! speak not with the tongue of enmity, nor look with its eye , but fulfil the covenant of fellowship with me before the time for discovering a remedy shall have passed. Arise and procure for me a rope, and tie one end of it to a tree, and let down to me its other end, that I may lay hold of it. Perhaps 1 may so escape from my present predica- ment, and I will give thee all the treasures that I possess." The fox, however, replied. "Thou hast prolonged a conversation that will not procure thy liberation. Hope not, therefore, for thy escape through my means; but reflect upon thy former wicked conduct, and the perfidy and artifice which thou thoughtest to employ against me, and how near thou art to being stoned. Know that th}' soul is about to quit the v/orld, and to perish and depart from it : then wilt thou be reduced to destruction, and an evil abode is it to which thou goest ! " " Abu-1-Hoseyn ! " rejoined the wolf, " be ready in returning to friendship, and be not so rancorous. THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 171 In u. Know that he who delivereth a soul froiu destruc- tion hath saved it alive, and he who saveth a soul alive is as if he had saved the lives of all mankind. Follow not a course of evil, for the wise abhor it ; and there is no evil more manifest than my being in this pit, drinking the suffocating pains of death, and looking upon destruction, when thou art able to deliver me from the misery into which 1 have fallen." But the fox exclaimed, " thou barbarous, hard-hearted wretch ! I compare thee, with respect to the fairness of thy professions and the baseness of thine intention, to the falcon with the partridge." " And what," asked the wolf, " is the story of the falcon and the partridge 1 " The fox answered, "I entered a vineyard one day to eat of its grapes, and while I was there, I beheld a falcon pounce upon a partridge ; but when he had captured him, the partridge escaped from him and entered his nest, and concealed himself in it ; whereupon the falcon followed him, calling out to him, ' idiot ! I saw thee in the desert hungry, and, feeling compassion for thee, I gathered for thee some grain, and took hold of thee that thou mightest eat ; but thou ficddest from me, and I see no reason for thy flight unless it be to mortify. Show thyself, then, and take the grain that I have brought thee and eat it, and may it be light and wholesome to thee.' So when the partridge heard these words of the falcon, he believed him and hfl 172 OlilENTAL FOLKT.OKE TALES. came forth to him ; and the falcon stuck his talons into him, and got possession of him. The partridge therefore said to him, * Is this that of which thou saidst that thou hadst brought for me from the desert, and of which thou saidst to me, " Eat it, and may it be light and wholesome to thee 1 " Thou hast lied unto me ; and may God make that which thou eatest of my flesh to be a mortal poison in thy stomach !' And when he had eaten it, his feathers fell off, and his strength failed, and he forthwith died." The fox then continued, " Know, wolf, that he who diggeth a pit for his brother soon falleth into it himself ; and thou behavedst with perfidy to me first." " Cease," replied the wolf, " from addressing me with this discourse, and propounding fables, and mention not unto me my former base actions. It is enough for me to be in this miserable state, since I have fallen into a calamity for which the enemy would pity me, much more the tru^^; friend. Con- sider some stratagem by means of which I may save myself, and so assist me. if uie doing this occasion thee trouble, thou knowest that the true friend endureth for his own true friend the severest labour, and will suffer destruction in obtaining his deliver- ance; and it hath been said, 'An affectionate friend is even better than a brotlicr.' If thou procure means for my escape, I will collect for thee such things as shall be a store for thee against the time THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 173 of want, and then I will teach thee extraordinary stratagems by which thou shalt make the plenteous vineyards accessible, and shalt strip the fruitful trees : so be happy and cheerful." But the fox said, laughing as he spoke, " How excellent is that which the learned have said of him who is exces- sively ignorant like thee ! " " And what have the learned said 1 " asked the wolf. The fox answered, ** The learned have observed that the rude in body and in disposition is far from intelligence, and nigh unto ignorance ; for thine assertion, perfidious idiot ! that the true friend undergoeth trouble for the deliverance of his own true friend is just as thou hast said ; but acquaint me, with thine ignor- ance and thy paucity of sense, how I should bear sincere friendship towards thee with thy treachery. Hast thou considered me a true friend unto thee when I am an enemy who rejoiceth in thy misfor- tune? These words are more severe than the piercing of arrows, if thou understand. And as to thy saying that thou wilt give me such things as will be a store for me against the time of want, and will teach me stratagems by which I shall obtain access to the plenteous vineyards and strip the fruitful trees — how is it, guileful traitor ! that thou knowest not a stratagem by means of which to save thyself from destruction 1 How far, then, art thou from profiting thyself, and how far am I from receiving thine advice? If thou know of stratagems, maaanim!msmMme-ii!iMlM^^MSSSl^^S^W?!?^:SW^MS^T 174 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. employ them to save thyself from this predicament from which I pray God to make thine escape far distant. See, then, idiot ! if thou know any stratagem, and save thyself by its means from slaughter, Iv'tbre thou lavish instruction upon another. But thou art like a man whom a disease attacked, and to whom there came a man suffering from the same disease to cure him, saying to him, ' Shall I cure thee of thy disease ? ' The first man, therefore, said to the other, 'Why hast thou not begun by curing thyself?' So he left him and went his way. And thou, wolf, art in the same case. Remain, then, in tliy place, and endure that which hath befallen thee." Now when the wolf heard these words of the fox, he knew that he had no kindly feeling for him ; so he wept for himself, and said, •* I have been careless of myself ; but if God deliver me from this affliction, I will assuredly repent of my overbearing conduct unto him that is weaker than I ; and I will cer- tainly wear wool, and ascend the mountains, com- memorating the praises of God (whose name be exalted !) and fearing His puhlshment ; and I will separate myself from all the other wild beasts, and verily I will feed the warriors in defence of the re- Yv^ioxi and the poor." Then he wept and lamented ; and thereui)on the heart of the fox was moved with tenderness for him. On hearing his humble expres- sions, and the words which indicated his repenting I t r t f t a THE FOX AND TIIK WOLF. 175 [•e- of arrogance and pride, he was affected with com- passion for him, and, leaping with joy, placed him- self at the brink of the pit, and sat upon his liind- legs and hung down his tail into the cavity. Upon this the wolf arose, and stretched forth his paw- to wards the fox's tail, and pulled him down to himj so the fox was with him in the pit. The wolf then said to him, " O fox of little compassion ! wherefore did t thou rejoice in my misfortune ? Now thou hast become my companion, and in my power. Thou hast fallen into the pit with me, and punishment hath quickly overtaken thee. The sages have said. * If any one of you reproach his brother for deriving liis nourishment from misei-able means, he shall experience the same necessity,' and how excellent is the saying of the poet — « « When fortune throweth itself heavily upon some, and encampeth by the side of others, Say to those who rejoice over us, " Awake : the re- joicors over us shall suffer as we have done."' "I must now," he continued, " hasten thy slaughter, before thou beholdest mine." So the fox said within himself, "I have fallen into the snare with this tyrant, and my present case requireth the em.ploy- ment of artifice and frauda. It hath been said that the woman maketh her ornaments for the day of festivity ; and, in a proverb, ' I have not reserved thee, my tear, but for the time of my difficulty ! ' and if I employ not some stratagem in the affair of Sr.«iSSiiwai^»iii-:->:-^Sj«":r', ^r^^rr^i.^'^ViV I^-^-iiV-a^atsrsssafeii {,1^ n 176 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. this tyrannical wild beast, I perish inevitably. How good is the saying of the poet — "'Support thyself by guile; for thou livest in an age whose sons are like the lions of the forest ; And brandish around the spear of artifice, that the mill of subsistence may revolve ; And pluck the fruits ; or if they be beyond thy reach, then content thyself with herbage.' " He then said to the wolf, " Hasten not to kill me, lest thou repent, courageous wild beast, endowed with might and excessive fortitude ! If thou delay, and consider what I am about to tell thee, thou wilt know the desire that I formed ; and if thou hasten to kill me, there will be no profit to thee in thy doing so, but we shall die here together." So the wolf said, " thou wily deceiver ! how is it that thou hopest to effect my safety and thine own, that thou askest me to give thee a delay ? Acquaint me with the desire that thou formedst." The fox replied, "As to the desire that I formed, it was such as requireth thee to r'^ ^mpense me for it well, since, when I heard thy promises, and thy confession of thy past conduct, and thy regret at not having before repented and done good ; and when I heard thy vows to abstain from injurious conduct to thy companions and others, and to relinquish the eating of the grapes and all other fruits, and to impose upon thyself the obligation of humility, and to clip thy claws and break thy dog-teeth, and to wear THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 177 'o wool and offer sacrifice to God (whose name be exalted !) if He delivered thee from thy present state, I was affected with compassion for thee, though I was before longing for thy destruction. So when I heard thy profession of repentance, and what thou vowedst to do if God delivered thee, I felt con- strained to save thee from thy present predicament. I therefore hung down my tail that thou mightest catch hold of it and make thine escape. But thou wouldst not relinquish thy habit of severity and violence, nor desire escape and safety for thyself by gentleness. On the contrary, thou didst pull me in such a way that I thought my soul had departed, so I became a companion with thee of the abode of dv=;struction and death ; and nothing will effect the escape of myself and thee but one plan. If thou approve of this plan that I have to propose, we shall both save ourselves ; and after that, it will be incumbent on thee to fulfil that which thou hast vowed to do, and I will be thy companion." So the wolf said, "And what is thy proposal that I am to accept 1 " The fox answered, " That thou raise thyself upright ; then I will place myself upon thy head, that I may approach ..':e surface of the earth, and when I am upon its surface I will go forth and bring thee something of which to take hold, and after that thou wilt deliver thyself." But the wolf replied, " I put no confidence in thy words ; for the sages have said, ' He who conlideth when he should O'l-iental. M 178 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. -^ fi hate is in error * ; and it hath been said, ' He who confideth in the faithless is deceived, and he who maketh trial of the trier will repent.' How excel- lent also is the saying of the poet — '"Let not your opinion be othei'wise than evil; for ill opinion is among the strongest of intellectual qualities. Nothing casteth a man into a place of clanger like the practice of good, and a fuir opinio u ! ' " And the saying of another — " * Always hold an evil opinion, and so be safe. Whoso liveth vigilantly, his calamities will be few. Meet the enemy with a smiling and an open face ; but raise for him an army in the heart to combat him.' " And that of another — *' ' The most bitter of thine enemies is the nearest whom thou trustest in ; beware then of men, and associate with them wilily. Thy favourable opinion of fortune is a weakness : think evil of it, therefore, and regard it with apprehension ! ' ' "Verily," rejoined the fox, "an evil opinion is not commendable in every case ; but a fair opinion is among the characteristics of excellence, and its result is escape from terrors. It is befitting, O wolf, that thou employ some stratagem for thine escape from the present predicament ; and it will be better for us both to escape than to die. Relinquish, therefore, thine evil opinion and thy malevolence ; for if thou think favourably of me, I shall not tail to do one of two things ; either I -^hall bring thee something J which to lay hold, and thou wilt escape from thy present situation, or I shall act perfidiously THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 179 n, towards thee, and save myself and leave thee ; but this is a thing that cannot be, for I am not secured from meeting with some such affliction as that which thou hast met with, and that Avould be the punish- ment of perfidy. It hath been said in a proverb, * Fidelity is good, and perfidy is base.' It is fit, then, that thou trust in me, for I have not been ignorant of misfortunes. Delay not, therefore, vo contrive cur escape, for the affair is too strait for thee to prolong thy discourse upon it." The wolf then said, " Verily, notwithstanding my little confidence m thy fidelity, I knew what was in thy heart, that thou desiredst my deliverance when thou wast convinced of my repentance ; and I said within myself, * If he be veracious in that which he asserteth, he hath made amends for his wicked- ness; and if he be false, he will be recompensed by his Lord.' So now I accept thy proposal to me, and if thou act perfidiously towards me, thy perfidy Avill be the means of thy destruction." Then the wolf raised himself upright in the pit, and took the fox upon his shoulders, so that his head reached the surface of the ground. The fox thereupon sprang from the wolf's shoulders, and found himself upon the face of the earth, when he fell down senseless. The wolf now said to him, " my friend ! forget not my case, nor delay my deliverance." The fox, however, uttered a loud laugh, and replied, " O thou deceived ! it was nothing but my 8MAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 IIM 112.5 ilM IIIII2.2 I.I If 1"° u- mmm 12.0 1.8 / o y^'H % <$• Cj?- te :/ 5r mU. ^ 1.25 1.4 1.6 ^ 6" ► ^ <^ / * c-l / / ¥' Photographic Sciences Corporation ^- «■ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 ^ %. \ \ ^9> \ ^j'- ^ ^ ^|\ 4i % ^^ r^^^ n>^^ &$• W' w. ^ 180 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. jesting with thee and deriding thee that entrapped me into thy power ; for when I heard thj profession of repentance, joy excited me, and I was moved with dehght, and danced, and my tail hung down into the pit ; so thou didst pull me, and I fell by thee. Then God (whose name be exalted !) delivered me from thy hand. Wherefore, then, should I not aid in thy destruction when thou art of the associates of the devil 1 Know that I dreamt yesterday that I was dancing at thy wedding, and I related the dream to an interpreter, who said to me, * Thou wilt fall into a frightful danger, and escape from it.' So I knew that my falling into thy power and my escape was the interpretation of my dream. Thou, too, knowest, deceived idiot ! that I am thine enemy. How, then, dost thou hope, with thy little sense and thine ignorance, that I will deliver thee, when thou hast heard what rude language I used 1 And how shall I endeavour to deliver thee, when the learned have said that by the death of the sinner are produced ease to man- kind and purgation of the earth 1 Did I not fear that I should suffer, by fidelity to thee, such affliction as would be greater than that which may result from perfidy, I would consider upon means for thy deliverance." So when the wolf heard the words of the fox, he bit his paw in repentance. He then spoke softly to him, but obtained nothing thereby. With a low voice he said to him, "Verily, THE FOX AND THE WOLF. Itl IS" you tribe of foxes are the sweetest of people in tongue, and the most pleasant in jesting, and this is jesting in thee ; but every time is not convenient for sport and joking." " idiot ! " replied the fox, "jesting hath a limit which its employer trans- gresseth not. Think not that God will give thee possession of me after He hath delivered me from thy power." The wolf then said to him, " Thou art one in whom it is proper to desire my liberation, on account of the former brotherhood and friendship that subsisted between us ; and if thou deliver mo, I will certainly recompense thee well." But the fox replied, " The sages have said, ' Take not as thy brother the ignorant and wicked, for he will disgrace thee, and not honour thee ; and take not as thy brother the liar, for if good proceed from thee he will hide it, and if evil proceed from thee he will publish it ! ' And the sages have said, ' For every- thing there is a stratagem, excepting death; and everything may be rectified excepting the corruption of the very essence ; and everything may be repelled excepting destiny.' And as to the recompense which thou assertest that I deserve of thee, I compare thee, in thy recompensing, to the serpent fleeing from the Hdwee, when a man saw her in a state of terror, and said to her, ' What is the matter with thee, serpent?' She answer'^d, * I have fled from the Hdwee, for he seeketh me ; and if thou deliver me from him, and conceal me with -' ^■1 t it 182 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. thee, I will recompense thee well, and do thee every kindness.' So the man took her, to oT ^ain the reward, and eager for the recompense, and ut her into his pocket ; and when the Hawee had passed and gone his way, and what she feared had quitted her, the man said to her, * Where is the recompense, for I have saved thee from that which thou fearedst and didst dread ?' The serpent answered him, ' Tell me in what member I shall bite thee; for thou knowest that we exceed not this recompense.' She then inflicted upon him a bite, from which he died. And thee, idiot ! " continued the fox, " I compare to that serpent with that man. Hast thou not heard the saying of the poet ? — '" Trust not a person in whose heart thou hast made anger to dwell, nor think his anger hath ceased. Verily, the vipers, though smooth to the touch, show- graceful motions, and hide mortal poison.' " " eloquent and comely-faced animal ! " rejoined the wolf, " be not ignorant of my condition, and of the fear with which mankind regard me. Thou knowest that I assault the strong places, and strip the vines. Do, therefore, what I have commanded thee, and attend to me as the slave attendeth to his master. " " ignorant idiot ! who seekest what is vain," exclaimed the fox, '* verily I wonder at thy stupidity, and at the roughness of thy manner, in thine ordering me to serve thee and to stand before thee as though I were a slave. But thou shalt soon THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 183 see what will befall thee, by the splitting of thy head with stones, and the breaking of thy treacherous dog- teeth." The fox then stationed himself upon a mound overlooking the vineyard, and cried out incessantly to the people of the vineyard until they perceived him and came quickly to him. He remained steady before them until they drew near unto him, and unto the pit in which was the wolf, and then he fled. So the owners of the vineyard looked into the pit, and when they beheld the wolf in it, they instantly pelted him with heavy stones, and continued throwing stones ana pieces of wood upon him, and piercing him with the points of spears, until they killed him, when they departed. Then the fox returned to the pit, and standing o\er the place of the wolfs slaughter, saw him dead; whereupon he shook his head in the excess of his joy, and recited these verses — "Fate removed the wolf's soul, and it was snatched away. Far distant from hai^piness be his sc that hath perished. How long hast thou striven, Abos Tirhan, to destroy me ! But now have burning calamities befallen thee. Thou hast fallen into a pit into which none shall de- scend without finding in it the blasts of death." After this the fox remained in the vineyard alone, and in security, fearing no mischief. m m >■! THE SHEPHERD AND THE JOGIE. i ill It is related that during the reign of a king of Cutch, named Lakeh, a Jogie lived, who was a wise man, and wonderfully skilled in the preparation of herbs. For years he had been occupied in search- ing for a peculiar kind of grass, the roots of which should be burnt, and a man be thrown into the flames. The body so burnt would become gold, and any of the members might be removed without the body sustaining any loss, as the parts so taken would always be self-restored. It so occurred that this Jogie, whilst following a flock of goats, observed one amongst them eating of the grass he was so anxious to procure. He imme- diately 1 ooted it up, and desired the shepherd who was near to assist him in procuring firewood. When he had collected the wood and kindled a flame, into which the grass was thrown, the Jogie, wishing to render the shepherd the victim of his avarice, desired him, under some pretence, to make a few circuits round the fire. The man, however, suspecting foul play, watched his opportunity, and, 184 THE SHEPHERD AND THE JOGIE. 185 seizing the Jogie himself, he threw him into the fire and left him to be consumed. Next day, on return- ing to the spot, great was his surprise to behold the golden figure of a man lying amongst the embers. He immediately chopped off one of the limbs and hid it. The next day he returned to take another, when his astonishment was yet greater to see that a fresh limb had replaced the one already taken. In short, the shepherd soon became wealthy, and re- vealed the secret of his riches to the king, Lakeh, who, by the same means, accumulated so much gold that every day he was in the habit of giving one lac and twenty- five thousand rupees in alms to fakirs. [flnHli THE PERFIDIOUS VIZIER A KING of former times had an only son, whom he contracted in marriage to the daughter of another king. But the damsel, who was endowed with great beauty, had a cousin who had sought her in marriage, and had been rejected ; wherefore he sent great presents to the vizier of the king just men- tioned, requesting him to employ some stratagem by which to destroy his master's son, or to induce him to relinquish the damsel. The vizier consented. Then the father of the damsel sent to the king's son, inviting him to come and introduce himself to his daughter, to take her as his wife; and the father of the young man sent him with the treacherous vizier, attended by a thousand horse- men, and provided with rich presents. When tliey were proceeding over the desert, the vizier remem- bered that there was near unto them a spring of water called Ez-zahra, and that whosoever drank of it, if he were a man, became a woman. He there- fore ordered the troops to alight near it, and in- 186 THE PERFIDIOUS VIZIER. 187 duced the prince to go thither with him. When they arrived at the spring, the king's son dis- mounted from his courser, and washed his hands, and drank ; and lo ! he became a woman ; where- upon he cried out and wept until he fainted. The vizier asked him what had befallen him, so the young man informed him; and on hearing his words, the vizier affected to be grieved for him, and wept. The king's son then sent the vizier back to his father to inform him of this event, determining not to proceed nor to return until his affliction should be removed from him, or until he should die. He remained by the fountain during a period of three days and nights, neither eating nor drinking, and on the fourth night there came to him a horse- man with a crown upon his head, appearing like one of the sons of the kings. This hors^.T »an said to him, " Who brought you, young man, unto this place 1 " So the young man told him his story ; and when the horseman heard it, he pitied him, and said to him, " The vizier of thy father is the person who hath thrown thee into this calamity ; for no one of mankind knoweth of this spring excepting one man." Then the horseman ordered him to mount with him. He therefore mounted ; and the horseman said to him, " Come with me to my abode : for thou art my guest this night." The young man replied, " Inform me who thou art before 188 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. I go with thee." And the horseman said, "I am the son of a king of the Jinn, and thou art son of a king of mankind. And now, be of good heart and cheerful eye on account of that which shall dispel thine arxiety and thy grief, for it is unto me easy." So the young man proceeded with him from the commencement of the day, forsaking his troops and soldiers (whom the vizier had left at their halting- place), and ceased not to travel on with his con- ductor until midnight, when the son of the king of the Jinn said to him, " Knowest thou what space we have traversed during this period ? " The young man answered him, " I know not," The son of the king of the Jinn said, " We have traversed a space of a year's journey to him who travelleth with diligence." So the young man wondered thereat, and asked, " How shall I return to my family ] " The other answered, " This is not thine affair. It is my affair ; and when thou shalt have recovered from thy misfortune, thou shalt return to thy family in less time than the twinkling of an eye, for to accomplish that will be to me easy." The young man, on hearing these words from the Jinnee, almost Hew with excessive delight. He thought that the ev3nt .vas a result of confused dreams, and said, " ExtoLed be the perfection of him who is able to restore the wretched, and render him prosperous ! " They ceased not to proceed until morning, when THE PERFIDIOUS VIZIEK. 189 n they arrived at a verdant, bright land, with tall trees, and warbling birds, and gardens of surpassing beauty, and fair palaces ; and thereupon the son of the king of the Jinn alighted from his courser, commanding the young man also to dismount. He therefore dismounted, and the Jinnee took him by the hand, and they entered one of the palaces, where the young man beheld an exalted king and a sultan of great dignity, and he remained with them that day, eating and drinking, until the approach of night. Then the son of the king of the Jinn arose and mounted with him, and they went forth, and proceeded during the night with diligence until the morning. And lo ! they came to a black land, not inhabited, abounding with black rocks and stones, as though it were a part of hell; whereupon the son of the king of men said to the Jinnee, " What is the name of this land 1 " And he answered, " It is called the Dusky Land, and belongeth to one of the kings of the Jinn, whose name is Zu-1-Jendheyn. None of the kings can attack him, nor doth any one enter his territory unless by his permission, so stop in thy place while I ask his permission." Accord- ingly the young man stopped, and the Jinn was absent from him for a while, and then returned to him; and they ceased not to proceed until they came to a spring flowing from black mountains. The Jinnee said to the young man, " Alight." He therefore alighted from his courser. ii i: i 190 ORIENTAL FOLKLOllE TALES. and the Jinnee said to him, "Drink of this spring." The young prince drank of it, and immediately became again a man, as he was at first, by the power of God (whose name be exalted !), whereat he rejoiced with great joy, not to be exceeded. And he said to the Jinn, " my brother, what is the name of this spring 1 " The Jinnee answered, " It is called the Spring of the Women : no woman drinketh of it but she becometh a man ; therefore praise God, and thank Him for thy restoration, and mount thy courser." So the king's son prostrated himself, thanking God (whose name be exalted !). Then he mounted, and they journeyed with diligence during the rest of the day until they had returned to the land of the Jinnee, and the young man passed the night in his abode in the most comfortable manner ; after which they ate and drank until the next night, when the son of the king of the Jinn said to him, "Dost thou desire to return to thy family this night?" The young man answered, "Yes." So the son of the king of the Jinn called one of his father's slaves, whose name was Edjiz, and said to him, " Take this young man hence, and carry him upon thy shoulders, and let not the dawn overtake him before he is with his father-in-law and his wife." The slave replied, "I hear and obey, and with feelings of love and honour will I do it." THE PERFIDIOUS VIZIER. 191 his 1 to im ake his ,nd it." Then the slave absented himself for a while, and approached in the form of an 'Efreet. And when the young man saw him his reason fled, and he was stupefied ; but the son of the king of the Jinn said to him, "No harm shall befall thee. Mount thy coarser. Ascend upon his shoulders." The young man then mounted upon the slave's shoulders, and the son of the king of the Jinn said to him, " Close thine eyes." So he closed his eyes, and the slave flew with him between heaven and earth, and ceased not to fly along with him while the young man was unconscious, and the last third of the night came not before he was on the top of the palace of his father-in-law. Then the 'Efreet said to him, "Alight." He therefore alighted. And the 'Efreet said to him, " Open thine eyes ; for this is the palace of thy father-in-law and his daughter." Then he left him and departed. And as soon as the day shone, and the alarm of the young man subsided, he descended from the roof of the palace ; and when his father-in-law beheld him, he rose to him and met him, wondering at seeing him descend from the top of the palace, and he said to him, " We see other men come through the doors, but thou comest down from the sky." The young man replied, " What God (whose perfsction be extolled, and whose name be exalted!) desired hath happened." And when the sun rose, his father-in-law ordered his vizier to prepare great banquets, and the wedding 192 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. was celebrated ; the young man remained there two months, and then departed with his wife to the city of his father. But as to the cousin of the damsel, he perished by reason of his jealousy and envy. Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty, at the Edinhv/rgh University Press. FOLK-LORE AND LEGENDS NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN ii 1 .„ PEEFATORY NOTE. It might have been expected that the Indians of North America would have many Folklore tales to tell, and in this volume I have endeavoured to present such of them as seemed to me to best illustrate the primitive character and beliefs of the people. The belief, and the language in which it is clothed, are often very beautiful. Fantastic imagination, magnanimity, moral senti- ment, tender feeling, and humour are discovered in a degree which may astonish many who have been apt to imagine that advanced civilisation has much to do with the possession of such qualities. \ know of nothing that throws so much light upon Indian cliaracter as their Folk-tales. i:St 1: : i ■ I CONTENTS Moowis, The Girl who Married the Piue-tree, A Legend of Manabozho, Paupjmkkeewis, The Discovery of the Upper World, The Boy who sSnared the Sun, The Maid in the Box, The Spirits and the Lovers, . The Wonderful Rod, The Funeral Fire, . The Legend of 0-na-wut-a-qut-o, Manabozho in the Fish's Stomach, The Sun and the Moon, The Snail and the Beaver, The Strange Guests, Manabozho and his Toe, The Girl who Became p Bird, The Undying Head, . The Old Chippeway, Mukumik ! Mukumik ! Mukumik ! The Swing by the Lake, PAGE I 9 11 15 33 37 41 45 54 56 63 69 72 75 79 88 90 92 113 116 119 I ■ ■ Vlll CONTENTS. The Fire Plume, The Journey to the Island of Souls, Machiritou, the Evil Spirit, The vVoman of Stone, The Maiden who Loved a Fish, The lione Lightning, Aggo-dah-gauda, Piqua, . . The Evil Maker, Manabozho the Wolf, The Man-fish, PAGE 123 129 134 144 147 151 154 158 177 179 186 ^ P ' MOOWIS. In a large village there lived a noted belle, or Ma- mon-dtl-go-Kwa, who was the admiration of all the young hunters and warriors. She was particularly admired by a young man who, from his good figure and the care he took in his dress, was called the Beau-Man, or Ma-mon-dd-gin-in-e. This young man had a friend and companion whom he made his confidant. "Come," said he one day, in a sportive mood, "let us go a-courting to her who is so handsome, perhaps she may fancy one of us." She would, however, listen to neither of them ; and when the handsome young man rallied her on the coldness of her air, and made an effort to over- come her indiff"erence, she repulsed him with the greatest contempt, and the young man retired con- fused and abashed. His sense of pride was deeply wounded, and he was the more piqued because he had been thus treated in the presence of others, and this affair had been noised about in the village, and became the talk of every lodge circle. He was, Indian. * ii> 2 INDIAN FOLKLORE. besides, a very sensitive man, and the incident so preyed upon him that he became moody and at last took to his bed. For days he would lie without uttering a word, with his eyes fixed on vacancy* and taking little or no food. From this state no efforts could rouse him. He felt abashed and dis- honoured even in the presence of his own relatives, and no persuasions could induce him to rise, so that when the family prepared to take down the lodge to remove he still kept his bed, and they were com- pelled to lift it from above his head and leave him upon his skin couch. It was a time of general re- moval and breaking up of the camp, for it was only a winter hunting-camp, and as the season of the hunt was now over, and spring began to appear, his friends all moved off as by one impulse to the place of their summer village, and in a short time all were gone, and he was left alone. Tlie last person to leave him was his boon companion and cousin, who had been, like him, an admirer of the forest belle. The hunter disregarded even his voice, and as soon as his steps died away on the creaking snow the stillness and solitude of the wilderness reigned around. As soon as all were gone, and he could no longer, by listening, hear the remotest sound of the depart- ing camp, the Beau-Man arose. Now this young man had for a friend a powerful guardian spirit or personal manito, and he resolved, with this spirit's aid, to use his utmost power to punish and humble the girl, for she was noted in her tribe for her coquetry, and had treated many MOOWIS. young men, who were every way her equals, as she had treated this lover. He resolved on a singular stratagem by way of revenge. He walked over the deserted camp and gathered up all the cast-off bits of soiled cloth, clippings of finery, and old clothing and ornaments, which had either been left there as not worth carrying away, or forgotten. These he carefully picked out of the snow, into which some of them had been trodden, and collected in one place. These gaudy and soiled stuffs he restored tc- their original beauty, and made of them a cc'v< J'.nd leggings, which he trimmed with beads, and finished and decorated after the best fashion of his tribe. He then made a pair of moccasins and garnished them with beads, a bow and arrows, and a frontlet and feathers for the head. Having done this he searched about for cast-out bones of animals, pieces of skin, clippings of dried meat, and even dirt Having cemented all this together he filled the clothes with it, pressed the mass firmly in, and fashioned it, externally, in all respects like a tall and well-shaped man. He put a bow and arrows in its hands, and the frontlet on its head. Having finished it he brought it to iife, and the image stood forth in the most favoured lineaments of his fellows. Such was the origin of Moowis, or the Dirt-and-Rag Man. "Follow me," said the Beau-Man, "and I will direct you how you shall act." Moowis was, indeed, a very sightly person, and as the Beau-Man led him into the new encampment " 4 INDIAN FOLKLORE. where the girl dwelt, the many colours of his clothes, the profusion of his ornaments, his manly deport- ment, his animated countenance, drew all eyes to him. He was hospitably received, both old and young showing him great attention. The chief invited him to his lodge, and he was there treated to the moose's hump and the finest venison. No one was better pleased with the handsome stranger than Ma-mon-dd-go-Kwa. She fell in love with him at first sight, and he was an invited guest at the lodge of her mother the very first evening of his arrival. The Beau-Man went with him, for it was under his patronage that he had been introduced, and, in truth, he had another motive in accompanying him, for he had not yet wholly subdued his feelings of admiration for the object against whom he had, nevertheless, exerted all his necromantic power, and he held himself ready to take advantage of any favourable turn which he secretly hoped the visit might take in relation to himself. No such oppor- tunity, however, arose. Moowis attracted the chief attention, every eye and heart was alert to entertain him. In this effort on the part of his entertainers they had well-nigh brought about his destruction by dissolving him into his original elements of rags, snow, and dirt, for he was assigned the most prominent place near the fire, where he was exposed to a heat that he could by no means endure. However, he warded this calamity off by placing a boy between him and the fire ; he shifted his positi frequently, and evaded, by dexterous manoeuvres and timely MOOWIS. remarks, the pressing invitation of his host to sit and enjoy the warmth. He so managed these excuses as not only to conceal his dread of immediate dissolution, but to secure the further approbation of the fair forest girl, who was filled with admiration of one who had so brave a spirit to endure the paralysing effects of cold. The visit proved that the rejected lover had well calculated the effects of his plan. He withdrew from the lodge, and Moowis triumphed. Before the Beau-Man left he saw him cross the lodge to the coveted ahiiios, or bridegroom's seat. The dart which Ma-mon-dd-go-Kwa had so often delighted in sending to the hearts of her admirers she was at length fated to receive. She had married an image. As the morning began to break the stranger arose, adjusted his warrior's plumes, and took his forest weapons to depart. "I must go," said he, " for I have important work to do, and there are many hills and streams between me and the object of my journey." " I will go with you," said Ma-mon-dd-go-Kwa. "The journey is too long," replied her husband, "and you are ill able to encounter the perils of the way." "It is not so long but that I will go," answered his wife, " and there are no dangers I will not share with you." Moowis returned to the lodge of his master, and told him what had occurred. For a moment pity took possession of the young man's heart. He regretted that she whom he so loved should thus • 6 INDIAN FOLKLORE. have thi'own herself away upon an image, a shadow, when she might have been the mistress of the best lodge in the camp. "It is her own folly," he said; "she has turned a deaf ear to the counsels of prudence. She must submit to her fate." The same morning Moowis set forth, and his wife followed him at a distance. The way was rough and intricate, and she found that she could not keep up with him, he walked so quickly. She struggled hard and obstinately to overtake him, but Moowis had been for some time out of sight when the sun rose and commenced upon his snow-formed body the work of dissolution. He began to melt away and fall to pieces. As Ma-mon-dd-go-Kwa followed in his track she found piece after piece of his clothing in the path. She first found his mittens, then his moccasins, then his legging then his coat, and after that other parts of his garments. As the heat unbound them the clothes also returned to their filthy condi- tion. Over rocks, through wind-falls, across marshes, Ma-mon-dd-go-Kwa pursued him she loved. The path turned aside in all directions. Rags, bones, leather, beads, feathers, and soiled ribbons she found, but caught no sight of Moowis. She spent the day in wandering, and when evening came she was still alone. The snow having now melted, she had com- pletely lost her husband's track, and she wandered about uncertain which way to go and in a state of perfect despair. At length with bitter cries she lamented her fate. : MOOWIS. 7 " Moowis, Moovvis," she cried, " nin ge w^on o win ig, ne won e Avin ig ! " — " Moowis, Moowis, you have led me astray, you are loading me astray ! " With this cry she wandered in the woods. The cry of the lost Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa is some- times repeated by the village girls who have made of it a song — Moowis ! Moowis I Forest rover, Wliere art thou ? Ah ! my bravest, gayest lover, Guide me now. Moowis ! Moowis ! All ! believe me. List my moan : Do not, do not, brave heart, leave me All alone. Moowis ! Moowis ! Footprints vanished ! Whither wend I ? Fated, lost, detested, banished Must I die ! Moowis ! Moowis ! Whither goest thou. Eye-bright lover ? Ah ! thou ravenous bird that knowest, I see thee hover, J f j ■ ■ i.1 M ■ 1 8 INDIAN FOLKLORE. Circling, circling As I wander, And at last When I fall thou then wilt come And feed upon my breast. \!i THE GIRL WHO MARRIED THE PINE-TREE. C J Upon the side of a certain mountain grew some pines, under the shade of which the Puckwudjinies, or sprites, were accustomed to sport at times. Now it happened that in the neighbourhood of these trees was a lodge in which dwelt a beautiful girl and her father and mother. One day a man came to the lodge of the father, and seeing tlie girl he loved her, and said — " Give me Leelinau for my wife," and the old man consented. Now it happened that the girl did not like her lover, so she escaped from the lodge and went and hid herself, and as the sun was setting she came to the pine-trees, and leaning against one of them she lamented her hard fate. On a sudden she heard a voice, which seemed to come from the tree, saying — "Be my wife, maiden, beautiful Leelinau, beautiful Leelinau." The girl was astonished, not knov/ing whence the voice could have come. She listened again, and the words were repeated, evidently by the tree against 10 INDIAN FOLKLORE. which she leaned. Then the maid consented to be the wife of the pine-tree. Meanwhile her parents had missed her, and had sent out parties to see if she could be found, but she was nowhere. Time passed on, but Leelinau never returned to her home. Hunters who have been crossing the mountain, and have come to the trees at sunset, say that they have seen a beautiful girl there in com- pany with a handsome youth, who vanished as they approached. 3 be had but 1 to the say lom- 'hey A LEGEND OF MANABOZHO. Manabozho made the land. The occasion of his doing so was this. One day he went out hunting with two wolves. After the first day's hunt one of the wolves left him and went to the left, but the other continuing with Manabozho he adopted him for his son. The lakes were in those days peopled by spirits with whom Manabozho and his son went to war. They destroyed all the spirits in one lake, and then went on hunt- ing. They were not, however, very successful, for every deer the wolf chased fled to another of the lakes and escaped from them. It chanced that one day Manabozho started a deer, and the wolf gave chase. The animal fled to the lake, which was covered with ice, and the wolf pursued it. At the moment when the wolf had come up to the prey the ice broke, and both fell in, when the spirits, catching them, at once devoured them. Manabozho went up and down the lake-shore weeping and lamenting. While he was thus dis- tressed he heard a voice proceeding from the depths of the lake. 11 I Hi! 12 INDIAN FOLKLORE. ■■ ■ • T ''I wi I "Manabozho," cried the voice, "why do you weep ? " Manabozho answered — " Have I not cause to do so ? I have lost my son, who has sunk in the waters of the lake." "You will never see him more," replied the voice ; " the spirits have eaten him." Then Manabozho wept the more when he heard this sad news. " Would," said he, " I might meet those who have thus cruelly treated me in eating my son. They should feel the power of Manabozho, who would be revenged." The voice informed him that he might meet the spirits by repairing to a certain place, to which the spirits would come to sun themselves. Manabozho went there accordingly, and, concealing himself, saw the spirits, who appeared in all manner of forms^, as snakes, bears, and other things. Manabozho, however, did not escape the notice of one of the two chiefs of the spirits, and one of the band who wore the shape of a very large snake was sent by them to examine what the strange object was. Manabozho saw the spirit coming, and assumed the appearance of a stump. The snake coming up wrapped itself around the trunk and squeezed it with all its strength, so that Manabozho was on the point of crying out when the snake uncoiled itself. The relief was, however, only for a moment. Again the snake wound itself around him and gave him this time even a more severe hug than before. A LEGEND OF MANABOZHO. 13 id Manabozho restrained himself and did not suffer a cry to escape him, and the snake, now satisfied that the stump was what it appeared to be, glided off to its companions. The chiefs of the spirits were not, however, satisfied, so they sent a bear to try what he could make of the stump. The bear came up to Manabozho and hugged, and bit, and clawed him till he could hardly forbear screaming with the pain it caused him. The thought of his son and of the .vengeance he wished to take on the spirits, how- ever, restrained him, and the bear at last retreated to its fellows. "It is nothing," it said ; " it is really a stump." Then the spirits were reassured, and, having sunned themselves, lay down and went to sleep. Seeing this, Manabozho assumed his natural shape, and steal- ing upon them with his bow and arrows, slew the chiefs of the spirits. In doing this he awoke the others, who, seeing their chiefs dead, turned upon Manabozho, who fled. Then the spirits pursued him in the shape of a vast flood of water. Hearing it behind him the fugitive ran as fast as he could to the hills, but each one became gradually submerged, so that Manabozho was at last driven to the top of the highest mountain. Here the waters still sur- rounding him and gathering in height, Manabozho climbed the highest pine-tree he could find. The waters still rose. Then Manabozho prayed that the tree would grow, and it did so. Still the waters rose. Manabozho prayed again that the tree would grow, and it did so, but not so much as before. \ r:Mlnf/» u INDIAN FOLKLORE. Still the waters rose, and Manabozho was up to his chin in the flood, when he prayed again, and the tree grew, but less than on either of the former occasions. Manabozho looked round on the waters, and saw many animals swimming about seeking land. Amongst them he saw a beaver, an otter, and a musk-rat. Then he cried to them, saying — " My brothers, come to me. We must have some earth, or we shall all die," So they came to him and consulted as to what had best be done, and it was agreed that they should dive down and see if they could not bring up some of the earth from below. The beaver dived first, but was drowned before he reached the bottom. Then the otter went. He came within sight of the earth, but then his senses failed him before he could get a bite of it. The musk-rat followed. He sank to the bottom, and bit the earth. Then he lost his senses and came floating up to the top of the water. Manabozho awaited the reappear- ance of the three, and as they came up to the surface he drew them to him. He examined their claws, but found nothing. Then he looked in their mouths and found the beaver's and the otter's empty. In the musk-rat's, however, he found a little earth. This Manabozho took in his hands and rubbed till it was a fine dust. Then he dried it in the sun, and, when it was quite light, he blew it all round him over the water, and the dry land appeared^ Thus Manabozho made the land. PAUPPUKKEEWIS. \] A MAN of large stature and great activity of mind and body found himself standing alone on a prairie. He thought to himself — " How came I here 1 Are there no beings on this earth but myself 1 I must travel and see. I must walk till I find the abodes of men." So as soon as his mind was made up he set out, he knew not whither, in search of habitations. No obstacles diverted him from his purpose. Prairies, rivers, woods, and storms did not daunt his courage or turn him back. After travelling a long time he came to a wood in which he saw decayed stumps of trees, as if they had been cut in ancient times, but he found no other traces of men. Pursuing his journey he found more recent marks of the same kind, and later on he came to fresh traces of human beings, first their footsteps, and then the wood they had cut lying in heaps. Continuing on he emerged towards dusk from the forest, and beheld at a distance a large village of high lodges, standing on rising ground. He said to himself — • 16 *1 1 "i 1 16 INDIAN FOLKLORE. ^ " I will arrive there at a run." Off he started with all his speed, and on coming to the first lodge he jumped over it. Those within saw something pass over the top, and then they heard a thump on the ground. " What is that 1 " they all said. One came out to see, and, finding a stranger, invited him in. He found himself in the presence of an old chief and several men who were seated in the lodge. Meat was set before him, after which the chief asked him where he was going and what his name was. He answered he was in search of adven- tures, and that his name was Pauppukkeewis (grass- hopper). The eyes of all were fixed upon him. " Pauppukkeewis ! " said one to another, and the laugh went round. Pauppukkeewis made but a short stay in the vil- lage. He was not easy there. The place gave him no opportunity to display his powers. "I will be off^," he said, and taking with him a young man who had formed a strong attachment for him and who might serve him as a mesh-in- au^wa (official who bears the pipe), he set out once m .ay were ignorant of a fairer or richer world, or a better or happier state of being. There were among the Minnatarees two boys, who, from the hour of their birth, showed superior wisdom, sagacity, and cunning. Even while they were children they were wiser than their fathers. They asked their parents whence the light came which streamed through the fissures of the rock and played along the sides of the cavern, and whence and from what descended the roots of the great vine. Their f ath '>r could not tell them, and their mother only lau ' at the question, which appeared to her very fooi^. They asked the priest, but he could not tell them; but he said he supposed the light came from the eyes of some great wolf. The boys asked the king tortoise, who sulkily drew his head into his shell, and made no answer. When they asked the chief rattlesnake, he answered that he knew, and would tell them all about it if they would promise to make peace with his tribe, and on no account kill one of his descendants. The boys pro- mised, and the chief rattlesnake then told them that there was a world above them, a beautiful world, peopled by creat'ires in the shape of beasts, having W^^^tumsw^si::: THE DISCOVERY OF THE UPPER WORLD. 35 'ht a pure atmosphere and a soft sky, sweet fruits and mellow water, well-stocked hunting-grounds and well- filled lakes. Ho told them to ascend by the roots, which were those of a g.sat grape-vine. A while after the boys wore missing ; nor did they come back till the Minnatarees had celebrated their death, and the lying priest had, as he falsely said, in a vision seen them inhabitants of the land of spirits. The Indians were surprised by the return of the boys. They came back singing and dancing, and were grown so mucli, and looked so different from what they did when they left the cavern, that their father and mother scarcely knew them. They were sleek and fat, and when they walked it was with so strong a step that the hollow space rang with the sound of *h.eiv feel. They were covered with the skins of animals, and had blankets of the skins of racoons and beavers. They described to the Indians the pleasures of the upper world, and the people were delighted with their story. At length they resolved to leave their dull residence underground for the upper regions. All agreed to this except the ground-hog, the badger, and the mole, who said, as they had been put where they were, they would live and die there. The rabbit said he would live sometimes above and sometimes below. When the Indians had determined to leave their habitations underground, the Minnatarees began, men, women, and children, to clamber up the vine, and one-half of them had already reached the sur- face of the earth, when a dire mishap involved the 36 INDIAN FOLKLORE. remainder in a still more desolate captivity within its bowels. There was among them a very fat old woman, who was heavier than any six of her nation. No- thing would do but she must go up before some of her neighbours. Away she clambered, but her vv^eight was so great that the vine broke with it, and the opening, to which it afforded the sole means of ascending, closed upon her and the rest of her nation. i. '< in n, 0- ae er It, us er ,. THE BOY WHO SNARED THE SUN. At the time when the animals reigned on the earth they had killed all but a girl and her little brother, and these two were living in fear and seclusion. The boy was a perfect pigmy, never growing beyond the stature of a small infant, but the girl increased wiith her years, so that the labour of providing food and lodging devolved wholly on her. She went out daily to get wood for their lodge fire, and took her brother with her so that no accident might happen to him, for he was too little to leave alone — a big bird might have flown away with him. She made him a bow and arrows, and said to him one winter day— "I will leave you behind where I have been chopping ; you must hide yourself, and you will see the gitshee-gitshee-gaun ai see-ug, or snow-birds, come and pick the wormc oui of the wood, where I have been chopping. Shoot one of them and bring it home." He obeyed her, and tried his best to kill one, but came home unsuccessful. She told him he must not despair, but try again the next day. She accord- 87 .JL h : I 38 INDIAN FOLKLORE. ingly left him at the place where she got wood and returned home. Towards nightfall she heard his footsteps on the snow, and he came in exultingly, and threw down one of the birds he had killed. " My sister," said he, " I wish you to skin it and stretch the skin, and when I have killed more I will have a coat made out of them." "What shall we do with the body?" asked she, for as yet men had not begun to eat animal food, but lived on vegetables alone. " Cut it in two," he answered, '* and season our pottage with one-half of it at a time." She did so. The boy continued his efforts, and succeeded in killing ten birds, out of the skins of which his sister made him a little coat. " Sister," said he one day, " are we all alone in the world ? Is there nobody else living ? " His sister told him that they two alone remained ; that the beings who had killed all their relations lived in a certain quarter, and that he must by no means go in that direction. This only served to inflame his curiosity and raise his ambition, and he soon after took his bow and arrows and went to seek the beings of whom his sister had told him. After walking a long time and meeting nothing he became tired, and lay down on a knoll where the sun had melted the snow. He fell fast asleep, and while sleeping the sun beat so hot upon him that it singed and drew up his birdskin coat, so that when he awoke and stretched himself, he felt, as it were, bound in it. He looked down and saw the damage done, THE BOY WHO SNARED THE SUN. 39 and then he flew into a passion, upbraided the sun, and vowed vengeance against it. "Do not think you are too high," said he; "I shall revenge myself." On coming home he related his disaster to his sister, and lamented bitterly the spoiling of his coat. He would not eat. He lay down as one that fasts, and did not stir or move his position for ten days, though his sister did all she could to arouse him. At the end of ten days he turned over, and then lay ten days on the other side. Then he got up and told his sister to make him a snare, for he meant to catch the sun. At first she said she had nothing, but finally she remembered a little piece of dried deer's sinew that her father had left, and th'!s she soon made into a string suitable for a noose. The moment, however, she showed it to her brother, he told her it would not do, and bade her get something else. She said she had nothing — nothing at all. At last she thought of her hair, and pulling some of it out made a string. Her brother again said it would not answer, and bade her, pettishly, and with authority, make him a noose. She replied that thei 3 was nothing to make it of, and went out of the lodge. When she was all alone she said — "Neow obewy indapin." Meanwhile her brother awaited her, and it was not long before she reappeared with some tiny cord. The moment he saw it he was delighted. "This will do," he cried, and he put the cord to his mouth and began pulling it through his lips, and ■M :k 40 INDIAN FOLKLORE. as fast as he drew it changed to a red metal cord of prodigious length, which he wound around his body and shoulders. He then prepared himself, and set out a little after midnight that he might catch the sun before it rose. He fixed his snare on a spot just where he thought the sun would appear ; and sure enough he caught it, so that it was held fast in the cord and could not rise. The animals who ruled the earth were immediately put into a great commotion. They had no light. They called a council to debate the matter, and to appoint some one to go and cut the cord — a very hazardous enterprise, for who dare go so near to the sun as would be necessary ? The dormouse, however, undertook the task. At that time the dormouse was the largest animal in the world ; when it stood up it looked like a mountain. It set out upon its mission, and, when it got to the place where the sun lay sufed, its back began to smoke and burn, so intense was the heat, and the top of its carcass was reduced to enormous heaps of ashes. It succeeded, however, in cutting the cord with its teeth and freed the sun, but was reduced to a very small size, and has remained so ever since. Men call it the Kug-e- been-gwa-kwa. ifi'^fif THE MAID IN THE BOX. There once lived a woman called Monedo Kway (female spirit or prophetess) on the sand mountains, called The Sleeping Bear of Lake Michigan, who had a daughter as beautiful as she was modest and discreet. Everybody spoke of her beauty, and she was so handsome that her mother feared she would be carried off, so to prevent it she put her in a box, which she pushed into the middle of the lake. The box was tied by a long string to a stake on shore, and every morning the mother pulled the box to land, and, taking her daughter out of it, combed her hair, gave her food, and then putting her again in the box, set her afloat on the lake. One day it chanced that a handsome young man came to the spot at the moment the girl was being thus attended to by her mother. He was struck with her beauty, and immediately went home and told his love to his uncle, who was a great chief and a powerful magician. "My nephew," replied the old man, "go to the mother's lodge and sit down in a modest manner without saying a word. You need not ask her a 41 42 INDIAN FOLKLORE. question, for whatever you think she will under- stand, and what she thinks in answer you will under- stand." The young man did as he was bid. He entered the woman's lodge and sat with his head bent down in a thoughtful manner, without uttering a word. He then thought — " I wish she would give me her daughter." Very soon he understood the mother's thoughts in reply. "Give you my daughter !" thought she. "You ! no, indeed ! my daughter shall never marry you ! " The young man went away and reported the result to his uncle. " Woman without good sense ! " exclaimed the old man. " Who is she keeping her daughter for 1 Does she think she will marry the Mudjikewis (a term indicating the heir or successor to the first in power) ? Proud heart ! We will try her magic skill, and see whether she can withstand our power." He forthwith set himself to work, and in a short lime the pride and haughtiness of the mother was made known to all the spirits on that part of the lake, and they met together and resolved to exert their power to humble her. To do this they deter- mined to raise a great storm on the lake. The water began to roar and toss, and the tempest became so severe that the string holding the box broke, and it floated off through the straits down Lake Huron, and struck against the sandy shores at its outlet. The place where it struck was near the lodge of a decayed old magician called Ishkwon Daimeka, or J' I THE MAID IN THE BOX. 43 the keeper of the gate of the lakes. He opened the box and let out the beautiful daughter, •whom he took into his lodge and made his wife. When her mother found that her daughter had been carried off by the storm, she raised loud cries and lamented exceedingly. This she continued to do for a long time, and would not be comforted. At last the spirits began to pity her, and determined to raise another storm to bring the daughter back. This was even a greater storm than the first. The water of the lake washed away the ground, and swept on to the lodge of Ishkwon Daimeka, whose wife, when she saw the flood approaching, leaped into the box, and the waves, carrying her off, landed her at the very spot where was her mother's lodge. Monedo Kway was overjoyed, but when she opened the box she found her daughter, indeed, but her beauty had almost all departed. However, she loved her still, because she was her daughter, and now thought of the young man who had come to seek her in marriage. She sent a formal message to him, but he had heard of all that had occurred, and his love for the girl had died away. " I marry your daughter ! " replied he. " Your daughter ! no, indeed ! I shall never marry her ! " The storm that brought the girl back was so strong that it tore away a large part of the shore of the lake and swept off Ishkwon Daimeka's lodge, the fragments of which, lodging in the straits, formed those beautiful islands which are scattered in the St. Clair and Detroit rivers. As to Ishkwon 44 INDIAN FOLKLORE. Daimeka himself, he was drowned, and his bones lie buried under the islands. As he was carried away by the waves on a fragment of his lodge, the old man was heard lamenting his fate in a song. < II les led a ■ THE SPIEITS AND THE LOVERS. At the distance of a woman's walk of a day from the mouth of the river, called by the pale-faces the Whitestone, in the country of the Sioux, in the middle of a large plain, stands a lofty hill or mound. Its wonderful roundness, together with the circum- stance of its standing apart from all other hills, like a fir-tree in the midst of a wide prairie, or a man whose friends and kindred have all descended to the dust, has made it known to all the tribes of the West. Whether it was created by the Great Spirit or filled up by the sons of men, whether it was done in the morning of the world, ask not me, for I can- not tell you. Know it is called by all the tribes of the land the Hill of Little People, or the Mountain of Little Spirits. No gifts can induce an Indian to visit it ; for why should he incur the anger of the Little People who dwell in it, and, sacrificed upon the fire of their wrath, behold his wife and children no more 1 In all the marches and counter-marches of the Indians, in all their goings and returnings, in all their wanderings by day or by night to and from lands which lie beyond it, their paths are so 45 t \0 46 INDIAN FOLKLORE. i! ordered that none approaches near enough to disturb the tiny inhabitants of the hill. The memory of the red-man of the forest has preserved but one instance when their privacy was violated, since it was known through the tribes that they wished for no inter- course with mortals. Before that time many Indians were missing each year. No one knew what became of them, but they were gone, and left no trace nor story behind. Valiant warriors filled their quivers with arrows, put new strings to their bows, new shod their moccasins, and sallied out to acquire glory in combat ; but there was no wailing in the camp of our foes : their arrows were not felt, their shouts were not heard. Yet they fell not by the hands of our foes, but perished we know not how. Many seasons ago there lived within the limits of the great council-fire of the Mahas a chief who was renowned for his valour and victories in the field, his wisdom in the council, his dexterity and success in the chase. His name was Mahtoree, or the White Crane. He was celebrated throughout the vast regions of the West, from the Mississippi to the Hills of the Serpent, from the Missouri to the Plains of Bitter Frost, for all those qualities which render an Indian warrior famous and feared. In one of the war expeditions of the Pawnee Mahas against the Burntwood Tetons, it was the good fortune of the former to overcome and to make many prisoners — men, women, and children. One of the captives, Sakeajah, or the Bird-Girl, a beauti- ful creature in the morning of life, after being adopted t r^" . ^i^'.aVr-wrf-^ THE SPIRITS AND THE LOVERS. 47 into one of the Muhas families, became the wife of the chief warrior of the nation. Great was the love which the White Crane had for his wife, and it grew yet stronger when she had brought him four sons and a daughter, Tatokah, or the Antelope. She was beautiful. Her skin was fair, her eyes were largo and bright as those of the bison-ox, and her hair black, and braided with beads, brushed, as she walked, the dew from the flowers upon the prairies. Her temper was gentle and her voice sweet. It may not be doubted that the beautiful Tatokah had many lovers ; but the heart of the maiden was touched by none of the noble youths who sought her. She bade them all depart as they came ; she rejected them all. With the perverseness which is often seen among women, she had placed her affec- tions upon a youth who had distinguished himself by no valiant deeds in war, nor by industry or dex- terity in the chase. His name had never reached the surrounding nations. His own nation knew him not, unless as a weak and imbecile man. He was poor in everything which constitutes the riches of Indian life. Who had heard the twanging of Karkapaha's bow in the retreat of the bear, or who had beheld the war-paint on his cheek or brow 1 Where were the scalps or the prisoners that be- tokened his valour or daring 1 No song of valiant exploits had been heard from his lips, for he had none to boast of — if he had done aught becoming a man, he had done it when none was by. The beautiful Tatokah, who knew and lamented the f 48 INDIAN FOLKLORE. deficiencies of her lover, strove loug to conquer her passion without success. At length, since her father would not agree to her union with her lover, the two agreed to fly together. The night fixed came, and they left the village of the Mahas and the lodge of Mahtoree for the wilderness. Their flight was not unmarked, and when the father was made acquainted with the disgrace which had befallen him, he called his young men around him, and bade them pursue the fugitives, promising his daughter to whomsoever should slay the Karka- paha. Immediately pursuit was made, and soon a hundred eager youths were on the track of the hapless pair. With that unerring skill and sagacity in discovering footprints which mark their race, their steps were tracked, and themselves soon dis- covered flying. "What was the surprise of the pur- suers when they found that the path taken by the hapless pair would carry them to the mountain of little spirits, and that they were sufficiently in ad- vance to reach it before they could be overtaken. None of them (^nrst venture within the supposed limits, and they halted till the White Crane should be informed of his daughter and her lover having placed themselves under the protection of the spirits. In the meantime the lovers pursued their journey towards the fearful residence of the little people. Despair lent them courage to perform an act to which the stoutest Indian resolution had hitherto been unequal. They determined to tell their tale to the THE SI'IIUTS AND THE LOVEllS. 49 lich een the spirits and ask their protection. They wore within a few feet of the hill when, on a sudden, its brow, on which no object had till now been visible, became covered with little people, the tallest of whom was not higher than the knee of the maiden, while many of them — but these were children — were of lower stature than the squirrel. Their voice was sharp and quick, like the barking of the prairie dog. A little wing came out at each shoulder ; each had a single eye, which eye was to the right in the men, and to the left in the women, and their feet stood out at each side. They were armed like Indians, with tomahawks, spears, bows, and arrows. He who appeared to be the head chief — for he wore an air of command, and had the eagle feather — came up to the fugitives and said — " Why have you invaded the village of our race whose wrath has been so fatal to your people ? How dare you venture within the limits of our resi- dence ? Know you not that your lives are for- feited 1 " Tatokah, for her lover had less than the heart of a doe and was speechless, related their story. She told them how they had loved, how wroth her father had been, how they had stolen away and been pursued, and concluded her tale of sorrow with a flood of tears. The little man who wore the eagle feather appeared moved by what she said, and calling around him a large number of men, who were doubtless the chiefs and counsellors of the nation, a long consultation took place. The result Indian, D ''iSfi 50 INDIAN FOLKLORE. was a determination to favour and prottct the lovers. At this moment Shongotongo, or the Big Horse, one of the braves whom Mahtoree had despatched in quest of his daughter, appearod in view in pur- suit of the fugitives. It was not till Mahtoree had taxed his courage that Big Horse had ventured on the perilous quest. He approached with the strength of heart and singleness of purpose which accompany an Indian warrior who deems the eyes of his nation upon him. When first the brave was discovered thus wantonly, and with no other pur- pose but the shedding of blood, intruding on the dominions of the spirits, no words can tell the rage which appeared to possess their bosoms. Secure in the knowledge of their power to repel the attacks of every I'ving thing, the intrepid Maha was per- mitted to advance within a few steps of Karkapaha. He had just raised his spear to strike the unmanly lover, when, all at once, he found himself riveted to the ground. His ieet refused to move, his hands hung powerless at his side, his tongue refused to utter a word. The bow and arrow fell from his hand, and his spear lay powerless. A little child, not so high as the fourth leaf of the thistle, came and spat on him, and a company of the spirits danced around him singing a taunting song. When they had thus finished their task of preparatory torture, a thousand little spirits drew their bows, and a thousand arrows pierced his heart. In a moment innumerable mattocks were employed in preparing him a grave, and he was hidden from the THE SPIRITS AND THE LOVERS, 51 pur- i the rage re in ,tacks per- paha. aanly ed to lands fused from little istle, pirits hen atory bows, In a ed in the eyes of the living ere Tatokah could have thrice counted over the fingers of her hand. When this was done, the chief of the little spirits called Karkapaha before him, and said — " Maha, you have the heart of a doe. You would fly from a roused wren. We have not spared you because you deserve to be spared, but because the maiden loves you. It is for this purpose that we will give you the heart of a man, that you may return to the village of the Malias, and find favour in the eyes of Mahtoree and the braves of the nation. We will take away your cowardly spirit, and will give you the spirit of the warrior whom we slew, whose heart was firm as a rock. Sleep, man of little soul, and wake to be better worthy the love of the beautiful Antelope." Then a deep sleep came over the Maha lover. How long he slept he knew not, but when he woke he felt at once that a change had taken place in his feelings and temper. The first thought that came to his mind was of a bow and arrow, the second was of the beautiful maiden who lay sleeping at his side. The little spirits had disappeared — not a solitary being of the many thousands who, but a few minutes before, had filled the air with their dis- cordant cries was now to be seen or heard. At the feet of Karkapaha lay a tremendous bow, larger than any warrior ever yet used, a sheaf of arrows of proportionate size, and a spear of a weight which no Maha could wield. Karkapaha drew thu bow as an Indian boy bends a willow twig, and the spear I i i' I 1 1 « I 52 INDIAN FOLKLORE. seemed in his hand but a reed or a feather. The shrill war-whoop burst unconsciously from his lips, and his nostrils seemed dilated with the fire and impatience of a newly-awakened courage. The heart of the fond Indian girl dissolved in tears when she saw these proofs of strength and these evidences of spirit which, she knew, if they were coupled with valour — and how could she doubt the completeness of the gift to effect the purposes of the giver? — would thaw the iced feelings of her father and tune his heart to the song of forgiveness. Yet it was not without many fears, tears, and misgivings on the part of the maiden that they began their journey to the Mahas village. The lover, now a stranger to fear, used his endeavours to quiet the beautiful Tatokah, and in some measure succeeded. Upo^ finding that his daughter and her lover had gone to the Hill of the Spirits, and that Shongotongo did not return from his perilous adventure, the chief of the Mahas had recalled his braves from the pursuit, and was listening to the history of the pair, as far as the returned warriors were acquainted with it, when his daughter and her lover made their appearance. With a bold and fearless step the once faint-hearted Karkapaha v;alked up to the offended father, and, folding bis arms upon his breast, stood erect as a pine, and motionless as that tree when the winds of the earth are chained. It was the first time that Karkapaha had ever looked on angry men without trembling, and a demeanour so unusual in him excited universal surprise. THE SPIRITS AND THE LOVERS. 53 The lips, and The vhen 3nces with eness t tune IS not n the tiey to ^er to autiful Upo^ one to ;o did lief of |ursuit, far as I, when jance. earted ir, and, ;t as a linds of ,e that ithout In him " Karkapaha is a thief," said the White Crane. " It is the father of Tatokah that says it," answered the lover, "else would Karkapaha say it was the song of a bird that has flown over." "My warriors say it." " Your warriors are singing-birds ; they are wrens. Karkapaha says they do not speak the truth. Kar- kapaha has a brave heart and the strength of a bear. Let the braves try him. He has thrown away the woman's heart, and become a man." " Karkapaha is changed," said the chief thought- fully, " but how and when ? " "The Little Spirits of the mountain have given him a new soul. Bid your braves draw this bow. Bid them poise this spear. Their eyes say they can do neither. Then is Karkapaha the strong man of his tribe 1 " As he said this he flourished the pon- derous spear over his head as a man would poise a reed, and drew the bow as a child would bend a twig. " Karkapaha is the husband of Tatokah," said Mahtoree, springing to his feet, and he gave the maiden to her lover. The traditionary lore of the Mahas is full of the exploits, both in war and in the chase, of Karkapaha, who was made a man by the Spirits of the Mountain. m\ THE WONDEEFUL ROD. The Choctaws had for many years found a home in regions beyond the Mountains of Snow, far away to the west of the Mississippi. They, however, decided, for some reason or other, to leave the place in which they dwelt, and the question then arose in what direction they should journey. Now, there was a jossakeed (priest) who had a wonderful rod, and he said that he would lead them. For many years, therefore, they travelled, being guided by him. He walked before them bearing the rod, and when night was come he put it upright in the earth, and the people encamped round it. In tho morning they looked to see in what direction the rod pointed, for each night the rod left its upright position, and inclined one way or another. Day after day the rod was found pointing to the east, and thither the Choctaws accordingly bent their steps. " You must travel," said the jossakeed, " as long as the rod directs you pointing to the direction in which you must go, but when the rod ceases to point, and stands upright, then you must live there." i THE WONDERFUL TOD. 55 So the people went on until they came to a hill, where they camped, having first put up the rod so that It did not lean at all. In the morning, when they went to see which direction the rod pointed out for them to take, they found it upright, and from It there grew branches bearing green leaves. Then they said — " We Avill stop here." So that became the centre of the land of the Choctaws. M THE FUNERAL FIRE. For several nights after the interment of a Chip- pewa a fire is kept burning upon the grave. This fire is lit in the evening, and carefully supplied with small sticks of dry wood, to keep up a bright but small fire. It is kept burning for several hours, generally until the usual hour of retiring to rest, and then suffered to go out. The fire is renewed for four nights, and sometimes for longer. The person who performs this pious office is generally a near relative of the deceased, or one who has been long intimate with him. The following tale is related as showing the origin of the custom. A small war party of Chippewas encountered their enemies upon an open plain, where a severe battle was fought. Their leader was a brave and distinguished warrior, but he never acted with greater bravery, or more distinguished himself by personal prowess, than on this occasion. After turn- ing the tide of battle against his enemies, while shouting for victory, he received an arrow in his breast, and fell upon the plain. No warrior thus killed is ever buried, and according to ancient 66 THE FUNERAL FIRE. 57 custom, the chief was placed in a sitting posture upon the field, his back supported by a tree, and his face turned towards the direction in which his enemies had fled. Hh headdress and equipment were accurately adjusted as if he were living, and his bow leaned against his shoulder. In this posture his companions left him. That he was dead ap- peared evident to all, but a strange thing had hap- pened. Although deprived of speech and motion, the chief heard distinctly all that was said by his friends. He heard them lament his death without having the power to contradict it, and he felt their touch as they adjusted his posture, without having the power to reciprocate it. His anguish, when he felt himself thus abandoned, was extreme, and his wish to follow his friends on their return home so completely filled his mind, as he, saw them one after another take leave of him and depart, that with a terrible effort he arose and followed them. His form, however, was invisible to them, and this aroused in him surprise, disappointment, and rage, which by turns took possession of him. He followed their track, however, with great diligence. Wherever they went he went, when they walked he walked, when they ran he ran, when they encamped he stopped with them, when they slept he slept, when they awoke he awoke. In short, he mingled in all their labours and toilsy but he was excluded from all their sources of refreshment, except that of sleeping, and from the pleasures of participating in their con- versation, for all that he said received no notice. 08 INDIAN FOLKLORE. !l " Is it possible," he cried, " that you do not see me, that you do not hear me, that you do not under- stand mel Will you suffer me to bleed to death without offering to stanch my wounds ? Will you permit me to starve while you eat around me ? Have those whom I have so often led to war so soon for- gotten me ? Is there no one who recollects me, or who will offer me a morsel of food in my distress V Thus he continued to upbraid his friends at every stage of the journey, but no one seemed to hear his words. If his voice was heard at all, it was mis- taken for the rustling of the leaves in the wind. At length the returning party reached their vil- lage, and their women and children came out, accord- ing to custom, to welcome their return and proclaim their praises. " Kumaudjeewug ! Kumaudjeewug ! Kumaudjee- wug ! they have met, fought, and conquered ! " was shouted by every mouth, and the words resounded through the most distant parts of the village. Those who had lost friends came eagerly to inquire their fate, and to know whether they had died like men. The aged father consoled himself for the loss of his son with the reflection that he had fallen manfully, and the widow half forgot her sorrow amid the praises that w^,re uttered of the bravery of her hus- band. The hearts of the youths glowed with martial ardour as they heard these flattering praises, and the children joined in the shouts, of which they scarcely knew the meaning. Amidst all this uproar and bustle no one seemed conscious of the presence THE FUNERAL FIRE. 59 of the warrior-chief. He heard many inquiries made respecting his fate. He heard his companions tell how he had fought, conquered, and fallen, pierced by an arrow through his breast, and how he had been left behind among the slain on the field of battle. " It is not true," declared the angry chief, " that I was killed and left upon the field ! I am here. I live; I move; see me; touch me. I shall again raise my spear in battle, and take my place in the feast." Nobody, however, seemed conscious of his pre- sence, and his voice was mistaken for the whispering of the wind. He now walked to his own lodge, and there he found his wife tearing her hair and lamenting over his fate. He endeavoured to undeceive her, but she, like the others, appeared to be insensible of his pre- sence, and not to hear his voice. She sat in a despairing manner, with her head reclining on her hands. The chief asked her to bind up his wounds, but she made no reply. He placed his mouth close to her ear and shouted — " I am hungry, give me some food ! " The wife thought she heard a buzzing in her ear, and remarked it to one who sat by. The enraged husband now summoning all his strength, struck her a blow on the forehead. His wife raised her hand to her head, and said to her friend — " I feel a slight shooting pain in my head." Foiled thus in every attempt to make himself A 1 I I 60 INDIAN FOLKLORE. known, the warrior-chief began to reflect upon what he had heard in his youth, to the effect that the spirit was sometimes permitted to leave the body and wander about. He concluded that possibly his body might have remained upon the field of battle, while his spirit only accompanied his returning friends. He determined to return to the field, although it was four days' journey away. He accord- ingly set out upon his way. For three days he pursued his way without meeting anything un- common ; but on the fourth, towards evening, as he came to the skirts of the battlefield, he saw a fire in the path before him. He walked to one side to avoid stepping into it, but the fire also changed its position, and was still before him. He then went in another direction, but the mysterious fire still crossed his path, and seemed to bar his entrance to the scene of the conflict. In short, whichever way he took, the fire was still before him, — no expedient seemed to avail him. " Thou demon ! " he exclaimed at length, " why dost thou bar my approach to the field of battle] Knowest thou not that I am a spirit also, and that I seek again to enter my body 'i Dost thou presume that I shall return without effecting my object? Know that I have never been defeated by the enemies of my nation, and will not be defeated by thee ! " So saying, he made a sudden effort and jumped through the flame. No sooner had he done so than he found himself sitting on the ground, with his THE FUNERAL FIRE. 61 by )ecl lian his back supported by a tree, his bow leaning against his shoulder, all his warlike dress and arms upon his body, just as they had been left by his friends on the day of battle. Looking up he beheld a large canieu, or war eagle, sitting in the tree above his head. He immediately recognised this bird to be the same as he had once dreamt of in his youth — the one he had chosen as his guardian spirit, or per- sonal manito. This eagle had carefully watched his body and prevented other ravenous birds from touching it. The chief got up and stood upon his feet, but he felt himself weak and much exluiusted. The blood upon his wound had stanched itself, and he now bound it up. He possessed a knowledge of such roots as have healing properties, and these ho care- fully souglit in the woods. Having found some, he pounded some of them between stones and applied them externally. Others he chewed and swallowed. In a short time he found himself so much recovered as to be able to commence his journey, but he suf- fered greatly from hunger, not seeing any large animals that he might kill. However, he succeeded in killing some small birds with his bow and arrow, and these he roasted before a fire at night. In this way he sustained himself until he came to a river that separated his wife and friends from him. He stood upon the bank and gave that pecu- liar whoop which is a signal of the return of a friend. The sound was immediately heard, and a canoe was despatched tobring him over, and in a short time, IHri m H^ Ci: III 62 INDIAN FOLKLORE. amidst the shouts of his friends and relations, who thronged from every side to see the arrival, the warrior-chief was landed. When the first wild bursts of wonder and joy had subsided, and some degree of quiet had been re- stored to the village, he related to his people the accounii of his adventures. He concluded his narra- tive by telling them that it is pleasing to the spirit of a deceased person to have a fire built upon the grave for four nights after his burial ; that i , is four days' journey to the land appointed for the residence of the si)irits ; that in its journey thither the spirit stands in need of a fire every night at the place of its encampment ; and that if the friends kindle this fire upon the spot where the body is laid, the spirit has the benefit of its light and warmth on its path, while if the friends neglect to do this, the spirit is subjected to the irksome task of making its own fire each night. THE LEGEND OF 0-NA-WUT-A-QUT-O. A LONG time ago there lived an aged Odjibvva and his wife on the shores of Lake Huron. They had an only son, a very beautiful boy, named 0-na-wut- a-qut-o, or He that catches the clouds. The family were of the totem of the beaver. The parents were very proud of their son, and wished to make him a celebrated man ; but when he reached the proper age he would not submit to the We-koon-de-win, or fast. When this time arrived they gave him char- coal instead of his breakfast, but he would not blacken his face. If they denied him food he sought bird's eggs along the shore, or picked up the heads of fish that had been cast away, and broiled them. One day they took away violently the food he had prepared, and cast him some coals in place of it. This act decided him. He took the coals and black- ened his face and went out of the lodge. He did not return, but lay down without to sleep. As he lay, a very beautiful girl came down from the clouds and stood by his side. " 0-na-wut-a-qut-o," she said, '* I am come for you. Follow in my footsteps." 68 - in n i. i^H •if! J i wt iV^B |i 64 INDIAN FOLKLORE, The young man rose and did as he was bid. Pre- sently he found himself ascending above the tops of the trees, and gradually he mounted up step by step into the air, and through the clouds. At length bis gtiide led him through an opening, and he found himself standing with her on a beautiful plain. A path led to a splendid lodge, into which 0-na- wut-a-qut-o followed his guide. It was large, and divided into two parts. At one end he saw bows and arrows, clubs and spears, and various warlike instruments tipped with silver. At the other end were things exclusively belonging to women. This was the house of his fair guide, and he saw that she had on a frame a broad rich belt of many colours vhat she was weaving. "My brother is coming," she said, "and 1 must hide you." Putting him in one corner she spread the belt over him, and pr'~3ently the brother came in very richly dressed, and shining as if he had points of silver all 0V3r him. He took down from the wall a splendid pipe, and a bag in which was a-pako-ze-gun, or smoking mixture. When he had finished smoking, he laid his pipe aside, and said to his sister — " Nemissa" (elder sister), "when will you quit these practices ? Do you forget that the greatest of the spirits has commanded that you shall not take away the children from below 1 Perhaps you think you have concealed 0-na-wut-a-qut-o, but do I not know of his coming ? If you would not offend me, lend him back at once," - ^ THE LEGEND OF 0-NA-WUT-A-QUT-O. 65 or Itbese If the [away yon lend These words did not, however, alter his sister's purpose. She would not send him back, and her brother, finding that she was determined, called 0-na- wut-a-qut-o from his hiding-place. " Come out of your concealment," said he, " and walk about and amuse yourself. You will grow hungry if you remain there." At these words 0-na-wut-a-qut o came forth from under the belt, and the brother presented a bow and arrows, with a pipe of red stone, richly ornamented, to him. In this way he gave his consent to 0-na- ■w ut-a-qut-o's marriage with his sister, and from that time the youth and the girl became husband and wife. 0-na-wut-a-qut-o found everything exceedingly fair and beautiful around him, but he found no other people besides his wife and her brother. There were flowers on the plains, there were bright and spark- ling streams, there were green valleys and pleasant trees, there were gay birds and beautiful animals, very diflferent from those he had been accustomed to. There was also day and night as on the earth, but he observed that every morning the brother regularly left the lodge and remained absent all day, and every evening his sister departed, but generally for only a part of the night. 0-na wut-a-qut-o was curious to solve this mys- tery, and obtained the brother's consent to accom- pany him in one of his daily journeys. They travelled over a smooth plain which seemed to stretch to illimitable distances all around. At inciian. E i I GG INDIAN FOLKLORE. length 0-na-wut-a-qut-o felt the gnawings of hunger and asked his companion if there was no game about. " Patience, my brother," replied he ; " we shall soon reach the spot where I eat my dinner, and you will then see how I am provided." After walking on a long time they came to a place where several fine mats were spread, and there they sat down to refresh themselves. At this place there was a hole in the sky and 0-na-wut-a-qut-o, at his companion's request, looked through it down upon the earth. He saw below the great lakes and the villages of the Indians. In one place he saw a war- party stealing on the camp of their enemies. In another he saw feasting and dancing. On a green plain some young men were playing at ball, and along the banks of a stream were women employed in gathering the a-puk-wa for mats. " Do you see," asked the brother, " that group of children playing beside a lodge ? Observe that beautiful and active lad," said he, at the same time dartin^ something from his hand. The child im- mediately fell on the ground, and was carried by his companions into the lodge. 0-na-wut-a-qut-o and his companion watched and saw the people below gathering about the lodge. They listened to the she-she-gwau of the meeta, to the song he sang asking that the child's life might be spared. To this request 0-na-wut-a-qut-o's com- panion made answer — *' Send me up the sacrifice of a white dog." fc- THE LEGEND OF 0-NA-WUT-A-QUT-O. 67 Mght A feast was immediately ordered by the parents of the child. The white dog was killed, his carcass was roasted, all the wise men and medicine-men of the village assembling to witness the ceremony. '- There are many below," said 0-na-wut-a-qut-o*s companion, "whom you call great in medical skill. They are so, because their ears are open ; and they are able to succeed, because when I call they hear my voice. When I have struck one with sickness they direct the people to look to me, and when they make me the offering I ask, I remove my hand from off the sick person and he becomes well." While he was saying this, the feast below had been served. Then the master of the feast said — " We send this to thee, Great Manito," and im- mediately the roasted animal came up. Thus 0-na- wut-a-qut-o and his companion got their dinner, and after they had eaten they returned to the lodge by a different path. In this manner they lived for some time, but at last the youth got weary of the life. He thought of his friends, and wished to go back to them. He could not forget his native village and his father's lodge, and he asked his wife's permission to return. After some persuasion she consented. " Since you are better pleased," she said, " with the cares and ills and poverty of the world, than with the peaceful delights of the sky and its bound- less prairies, go. I give you my permission, and since I have brought you hither I will conduct you back. Remember, however, that you are still my ii-if .,-iiMHi1-to-¥Wtflhiffmiit!ri MHf - 1 ^"^ 68 INDIAN FOLKLORE. husband. I hold a chain in my hand by which I can, whenever I will, draw you back to me. My power over you will be in no way diminished. Be- ware, therefore, how you venture to take a wife among the people below. Should you ever do so, you will feel what a grievous thing it is to arouse my anger." As she uttered these words her eyes sparkled, and she drew herself up with a majestic air. In the same moment 0-na-wut-a-qut-o awoke. He found himself on the ground near his father's lodge, on the very spot where he had thrown himself down to sleep. Instead of the brighter beings of a higher world, he found around him his parents and their friends. His mother told him that he had been absent a year. For some time 0-na-wut-a-qut-o remained gloomy an^' doilfr^'i-"'"'''""";'^"'''' ('''"g-fi^h)," said he, letting down l„s hne, " take hold of my bait," ^ the kiXTd-' ''"^ ""''^ ^""^ «- ^ ^' '-' holdTf'his^-re "' '^ '''"'"'°^"" '"' '''""• '-"'■ ""'o «n m! i"""*,'"'! '' ''." '™ "'•■ ""'' Manabozho drew «P his hne, the trout's weight b .fng so great that the canoe was nearly overturned. Till no law the trou Manabozho kept crying out— "Wha-ee-he! wha-ee-hel" As soon as he saw him he said— shame, shame ! you ugly fish." The trout, being thus rebuked, let go Manai,ozho let down his line again into the water, 69 l!i: 70 INDIAN FOLKLORE. "King-fish, take hold of my line." " What a trouble Manabozho is ! " cried the king- fish. "Sun-fish, take hold of his line." The sun-fish did as he was bid, and Manabozho drew him up, crying as he did so — " Wha-ee-he ! wha-ee-he !" while the canoe turned in swift circles. When he saw the sun-fish, he cried — " Esa, esa ! you odious fish ! why did you dirty my hook by taking it in your mouth 1 Let go, I say, let go." The sun-fish did as he was bid, and on his return to the bottom of the lake told the king-fish what Manabozho had said. Just then the bait was let down again near to the king, and Manabozho was heard crying out — " Me-she-nah-ma-gwai, take hold of my liook." The king-fish did so, and allowed himself to be dragged to the surface, which he had no sooner loached than he swallowed Manabozho and his canoe at one gulp. When Manabozho camo to himself he found he wai in his canoe in the fish's stomach. He now began to think how he should escape. Looking about him, he saw his war-club in his canoe, and wit'> it he immediately struck the heart of the fish. Then he felt as though the fish was moving with great velocity. The king-fish observed to his friends — "I feel very unwell for having swallowed that nasty fellow Manabozho." At that moment he received another more severe blow on the heart. Manabozho thought, " If I am ' MANABOZHO IN THE FISH S STOMACH. 71 1 thrown up in the middle of the lake I shall be drowned, so I must prevent it.' So he drew his canoe and placed it across the fish's throat, and just as he had finished doing this the king-fish tried to cast him out. Manabozho now found that he had a companion with him. This was a squirrel that had been in his canoe. The squirrel helped him to place the canoe in the proper position, and Manabozho, being grateful to it, said — '^For the future you shall bo called Ajidanneo (animal tail)." Then ho recommenced his attack on the king-fish's heart, and by repeated blows he at last succeeded in killing him. He could tell that he had effected this by the stoppage of the fish's motion, and he could also hear the body beating against the shore. Manabozho waited a day to see what would happen. Then he heard birds scratching on the body, and all at once the rays of light broke in. He could now see the heads of the gulls, which were looking in at the opening they had made. " Oh ! " cried Manabozho, " my younger brothers, make the opening larger, so that I can get out." The gulls then told one another that Manabozho was inside the fish, and, setting to work at once to enlarge the hole, they, in a short time, set him free. After he got out Manabozho said to the gulls — "For the future you shall be called Kayoshk (noble scratchers), Tor your kindness to me." THE SUN AND THE MOON. There were once ten brothers who hunted together, and at night they occupied the same lodge. One day, after they had been hunting, coming home they found sitting inside the lodge near the door a beautiful woman. She appeared to be a stranger, and was so lovely that all the hunters loved her, and as she could only be the wife of one, they agreed that he should have her who was most successful in the next day's hunt. Accordingly, the next da}', they each took different ways, and hunted till the sun went down, when they met at the lodge. Nine of the hunters had found nothing, but the youngest brought home a deer, so the woman was given to him for his wife. The hunter had not been married more than a year when he was seized with sickness and died. Then the next brother took the f'irl for his wife. O Shortly after he died also, and the woman married the next brother. In a short time all the brothers died save the eldest, and he married the girl. She did not, however, love him, for he was of a churlish disposition, and one day it came into the woman's 72 THE SUN AND THE MOON. 73 a head that she would leave him and see what fortune she would meet with in the world. So she went, taking only a dog with her, and travelled all day. She went on and on, but towards evening she heard some one coming after her who, she imagined, must be her husband. In great fear she knew not which way to turn, when she perceived a hole in the ground before her. There she thought she might hide herself, and entering it with her dog she suddenly found herself going lower and lower, until she passed through the earth and came up on the other side. Near to her there was a lake, and a man fishing in it. "My grandfather," cried the woman, "I am pur- sued by a spirit." "Leave me," cried Manabozho, for it was he, " leave me. Lot me be quiet." The woman still beggtd him to protect her, and Manabozho at length said — " Go that way, and you shall be safe." Hardly had she disappeared when the husband, who had discovered the hole by which his wife had descended, came on the scene. " Tell me," said he to Manabozho, " where has the woman gone ? " " Leave me," cried Manabozho, "don't trouble me." "Tell me," said the man, " where is the woman 1 " Manabozho was silent, and the husband, at last getting angry, abused him with all his might. " The woman went that way," said Manabozho at last. "Kun after her, but you shall never catcli her, and you shall bs called Gizhigookc (day sun), 74 INDIAN FOLKLORE. and the woman shall be called Tibikgizis (night sun)." So the man went on running after his wife to the west, but he has never caught her, and he pursues her to this day. ight the 3ues THE SNAIL AND THE BEAVER. ? The father of the Osage nation was a snail. It was when the earth was young and little. It was before the rivers had become wide or long, or the mountains lifted their peaks above the clouds, that the snail found himself passing a quiet existence on the banks of the River Missouri. His wants and wishes were but few, and well supplied, and he was happy. At length the region of the Missouri was visited by one of those great storms which so often scatter desola- tion over it, and the river, swollen by the melted snow and ice from the mountains, swept away everything from its banks, and among other things the drowsy snail. Upon a log he drifted down many a day's journey, till the river, subsiding, left him and his log upon the banks of the River of Fish. He was left in the slime, and the hot sun beamed fiercely upon him till he became baked to the eaj th and found himself incapable of moving. Gradually he grew in size and stature, and his form experienced a new change, till at length what was once a snail creeping on the earth ripened into man, erect, tall, and stately. For a long time after his change to a human being he 75 IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // ■^ Ms> Q, Va 1.0 I.I 1.25 ll£ ... 1.4 IIM II 2.0 1.6 VQ <^ /i 'c^l "^^ e. c). ^% > '3 V // o / W Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 .

3, who was the wisest of them all (as well he might be, for he was older than the oak-tree whose top dies by the hanr" of Time), answered that they were killed by their enemies, the Walkullas, assisted by men of a strange speech and colour, who lived beyond the Great Salt Lake, fought with thunder and lightning, and camo to our enemies on the back of a great bird with many white wings. When he had thus made known to our people the fate of the warriors there was a dreadful shout of horror throughout the village. The women wept aloud, and the men sprang up and seized their bows and arrows to go to war with the Walkullas and ^he strange warriors who had helped 160 INDIAN FOLKLORE. to slay their sons, but Chenos bade them sit down again. "There is one yet living," said he. "He will si>on be here. The sound of his footsteps is in my ear as he crosses the hollow hills. He has killed many of his enemies ; he has ghitted his vengeance fully ; he has drunk blood in plenteous draughts. Long he fought with the men of his own race, and many fell before him, but he fled from the men who came to the battle armed with the real lightning, and hurling unseen death. Even now I see him coming ; the shallow streams he has forded ; the deep rivers he has swum. He is tired and hungry, and his quiver has no arrows, but he brings a prisoner in his arms. Lay the deer's flesh on the fire, and bring hither the pounded corn. Taunt him not, for he is valiant, and has fought like a hungry bear." As the wise Chenos spoke these words to the grey-bearded counsellors and warriors the Head Bufiulo v.'alked calm and ccol into the midst of them. There he stood, tall and straight as a young pine, but he spoke no word, looking on the head chief and the counsellors. Theie was blood upon his body, dried (m by the sun, and the arm next his heart was bound up with the skin of the deer. His eye was hollow and his body gaunt, as though he had fasted long. His quiver held no arrows. " Where are our sons ? " inquired the head chief of the warrior. " Ask the wolf and the panther," he answered. " Brother ! tell us where are our sons ! " ex- i PIQUA. 161 down [e will in my killed igeance Eiughts. ce, and en who ng, and loming ; p rivers and his oner in id bring or he is to the Head iiidst of a young head 3d upon next his sr. His ough he ad chief ered. \ I » ex- claimed the chief. " Our women ask us for their sons. They want them. Where are they 1 " " Where are the snows of last year 1 " replied the warrior. " Have they not gone down the swelling river into the Great Lake 1 They have, and even so have your sons descended the stream of Time into the great Lake of Death. The great star sees them as they lie by the water of the Walkulla, but they see him not. The panther and the wolf howl un- heeded at their feet, and the eagle screams, but they hear them not. The vulture whets his beak on their bones, the wild-cat rends their flesh, both are unfelt, for your sons are dead." When the warrior told these things to our people, they set up their loud death-howl. The women wept; but the men sprang up and seized their weapons, to go to meet the Walkullas, the slayers of their sons. The chief warrior rose again — "Fathers and warriors," said he, "hear me and believe my words, for I will tell you the truth. Who ever heard the Head Buffalo lie, and who ever saw him afraid of his enemies 1 Never, since the time that he chewed the bitter root and put on the new moccasins, has he lied or fled from his foes. He has neither a forked tongue nor a faint heart. Fathers, the Walkullas are weaker than us. Their arms are not so strong, their hearts are not so big, as ours. As well might the timid deer make war upon the hungry wolf, as the Walkullas upon the Shawanos. We could slay them as easily as a hawk pounces into a dove's nest and steals away her un- liiiiian. ! T I 162 INDIAN FOLKLORE. ) feathered little ones. The Head Buffalo alone could have taken the scalps of half the nation. But a strange tribe has come among them — men whose skin is white as the folds of the cloud, and whose hair shines like the great star of day. They do not fight as we iight, with bows and arrows and with war- axes, but with spears which thunder and lighten, and send unseen death. The Shawanos fall before it as the berries and acorns fall when the forest is shaken by the wind in the beaver-moon. Look at the arm nearest my heart. It was stricken by a bolt from the strangers' thunder ; but he fell by the hands of the Head Buffalo, who fears nothing but shame, and his scalp lies at the feet of the head chief. " Fathers, this was our battle. We came upon the Walkullas, I and my brothers, when they were unpre- pared. They were just going to hold the dance of the green corn. The whole nation had come to the dance; there were none left behind save the sick and the very old. ISl one were painted ; they Wi3re all for peace, and were as women. We crept close to them, and hid in the thick bushes which grew upon the edge of their camp, for the Shawanos are he cunning adder and not the foolish rattlesnake. We saw them preparing to offer a s?cri^ce to the Great Spirit. We saw them clean the deer, and hang his head, horns, and entrails upon the great white pole with a forked top, which stood over the roof of the council wigwam. They did not know thpt the Master of Life had sent the Shawar os to mix blood with the sacrifices. We saw them take the new corn le could But a whose [ whose ' do not ith war- ten, and re it as ; shaken the arm )lt from lands of tne, and ipon the e unpre- ce of the e dance; and the or peace, lem, and ,he edge cunning We saw Great lang his lite pole f of the hpt the ix blood lew corn PIQUA. 163 and rub it upon their hands, breasts, and faces. Then the head chief, having first thanked the Master of Life for his goodness to the Walkullas, got up and gave his brethren a talk. He told them that the Great Spirit loved them, and had made them victorious over all their enemies ; that he had sent a great many fat bears, deer, and moose to their hunting-ground, and had given them fish, whose heads were very small and bodies very big; that he had made their corn grow tall and sweet, and had ordered his suns to ripen it in the begin- ning of the harvest moon, that they might make a great feast for the strangers who had come from a far country on the wings of a great bird to warm themselves at the Walkullas' fire. He told them they must love the Great Spirit, take care of the old men, tell no lies, and never break the faith of the pipe of peace ; that they must not barm the strangers, for they were their brothers, but must live in peace with them, and give them lands and wives from among their women. If they did these things the Great Spirit, he said, would make their corn grow taller than ever, and direct them to hunting-grounds where the moose should be as thick as the stars. " Fathers and warriors, we heard these words ; but » c know not what to do. We feared not the Walkullas ; the God of War, we saw, had given them into our hands. But who were the strange tribe ? Were they armed as we were, and was their Great Medicine (Great Spirit) like ours ? Warriors, you I ~^ff!S^Fij UfiHW m 164 INDIAN FOLKLORE. all knew the Young Eagle, the son of the Old Eagle, who is here with us ; but his wings are feeble, he flies no more to the field of blood. The Young Eagle feared nothing but shame, and he said — " * I see many men sit round a fire, I will go and see who they are ! ' " He went. The Old Eagle looks at me as if he would say, ' Why went not the chief warrior him- self 1 ' I will tell you. The Head Buffalo is a head taller than the tallest man of his tribe. Can the moose crawl into the fox's hole 1 can the swan hide himself under a little leaf? The Young Eagle was little, save in his soul. He was not full-grown, save in his heart. He could go and not be seen or heard. He was the cunning black-snake which creeps silently in the grass, and none thinks him near till he strikes. "He came back and told us there were many strange men a little way before us whose faces were white, and who wore no skins, whose cabins were white as the srow upon the Backbone of the Great Spirit (the Alleghany Mountains), flat at the top, and moving with the wind like the reeds on the bank of a river ; that they did not talk like the Walkullas, but spoke a strange tongue, the like of which he had never heard before. Many of our warriors would have turned back to our own lands. The Flying Squirrel said it vas not cowardice to do so ; but the Head Buff'alo never turns till he has tasted the blood of his foes. The Young Eagle said he had eaten the bitter root and put on the new 1 PIQUA. 165 1 Eagle, eble, he Young I go and as if he Lor him- s a head Can the /■an hide 5 Eagle 1-grown, seen or B which Liks him •e many ces were ns were e Great the top, 1 on the like the 1 like of ' of our n lands. ce to do he has igle said iho new moccasins, and had been made a man, and his father and the warriors would cry shame on him if he took no scalp. Both he and the Head Buffalo said they would go iind attack the WalkuUas and their friends alone. The young warriors then said they v;ould also go to the battle, and with a great heart, as their fathers had done. Then the Shawanos rushed upon their ioes. "The Walkullas fell before us like rain in the summer months. We were as a fire among rushes. We went upon them when they were unprepared, when they were as children ; and for a while the Great Spirit gave them into our hands. But a power rose up against us that we could not with- stand. The strange men came upon us armed with thunder and lightning. Why delays my tongue to tell its story ? Fathers, your sons have fallen like the leaves of a forest-tree in a high wind, like the flowers of spring after a frost, like drops of rain in the sturgeon moon ! Warriors, the sprouts which sprang up from the withered oaks have perished, the young braves of our nation lie food for the eagle and the wild-cat by the arm of the Great Lake ! "Fathers, the bolt from the strangers' thunder entered my flesh, yet I did not fly. These six scalps I tore from the Walkullas, but this has yallow hair. Have I done well ? " The head chief and the counsellors answered he had done very well, bub Chenos answered — " No. You went into the Walkullas' camp when ^^^i m 166 INDIAN FOLKLORE. the tribe were feasting to the Great Spirit, and you disturbed the sacrifice, and mixed human blood with it. Therefore has this evil come upon us, for the Great Spirit is very an^ry." Then the head chief and the counsellors asked Chenos what must be done to appease the Master of Breath. Chenos answered — "The Head Buffalo, with the morning, will offer to him that which he holds dearest." The Head Buffalo looked upon the priests, and said — "The Head Buffalo fears the Great Spirit. He will kill a deer, and, in the morning, it shall be burned to the Great Spirit." Chenos said to him — "You have told the council how the battle wa? fought and who fell ; you have shown the spent quiver and the scalps, but you have not spoken of your prisoner. The Great Spirit keeps nothing hid from his priests, of whom Chenos is one. He has told me you have a prisoner, one with tender feet and a trembling heart." "Let any one say the Head Buffalo ever lied," replied the warrior. " He never spoke but truth. He has a prisoner, a woman taken from the strange camp, a daughter of the sun, a maiden from the happy islands which no Shawano has ever seen, and she shall live with me, and become the mother of my children." " Where is she ? " asked the head chief. and you ood with , for the rs asked blaster of tvill oifer ssts, and irit. He shall be attle wa? he spent poken of thing hid He has nder feet i^er lied," lit truth, e strange from the seen, and tiother of \i PIQUA. 167 "She sits on the bank of the river at the bend where we dug up the bones of the great beast, beneath the tree which the Master of Breath shivered with his lightnings. I placed her there because the spot is sacred, and none dare disturb her. I will go and fetch her to the council fire, but let no one touch her or show anger, for she is fearful as a young deer, and weeps like a child for its mother." Soon he returned, and brought with him a woman. She shook like a reed in the winter's wind, and many tears ran down her cheeks. The men sat as though their tongues were frozen. Was she beauti- ful ? Go forth to the forest when it is clothed with the flowers of spring, look at the tall maize when it waves in the wind, and ark if they are beautiful. Her skin was white as the snow which falls upon the mountains beyond our lands, save upon her cheeks, where it was reel, — not such red as the Indian paints when he goes to war, but such as the Master of Life gives to the flower which grows among thorns. Her eyes shone like the star which never moves. Her step was like that of the deer when it is a little scared. The Head Buffalo said to the council — "This is my prisoner. I fought hard for her. Three warriors, tall, strong, and painted, three pale men, armed with red liglitning stood at her side. Where are they now ? I bore her away in my arms, for fear had overcome her. When night came on I wrapped skins around her, and laid her under the leafy branches of the tree to keep off" the cold, and 168 INDIAN FOLKLORE. .! ! kindled a fire, and watched by her till the sun rose. Who will say she shall not live with the Head Buffalo, and be the mother of his children 1 " Then the Old Eagle got up, but he could not walk strong, for he was the oldest warrior of his tribe, and had seen the flowers bloom many times, the infant trees of the forest die of old age, and the friends of his boyhood laid in the dust. He went to the woman, laid his hands on her head, and wept. The other warriors, who had lost their kindred and sons in the war with the Walkullas, shouted and lamented. The woman also wept. "Where is the Young Eagle?" asked the Old Eagle of the Head Buffalo. The other warriors, in like manner, asked for their kindred who had been killed. "Fathers, they are dead," answered the warrior. " The Head Buffalo has said they are dead, and he never lies. But let my fathers take comfort. Who can live for ever 1 The foot of the swift step and the hand of the stout bow become feeble. The eye grows dim, and the heart of many days quails at the fierce glance of warriors. 'Twas better they should die like brave men in their youth than become old men and faint." "We must have revenge," they all cried. "We will not listen to the young warrior who pines for the daughter of the sun." Then they began to sing a mournful song. The strange woman wept. Tears rolled down } ev cheeks, and she often looked up to the house of the Great PIQUA. 169 in rose. Head lid not of his r times, md the went to 1 wept, red and ed and ,he 01(1 riors, in ad been warrior. and he Who ep and he eye at the should )me old "We nes for The cheeks, Great Spirit and spoke, but none could understand hci-. All tho time the Old Eaglo and the other warriors begged that slie should bo burned to revenge them. "Brothers and warriors," said Chenos, "our sons did wrong when they broke in upon the sacred dance the Walkullas made to their god, and he lent his thunder to the strange warriors. Lot us not draw down his vengeance further by doing we know not what. Let the beautiful woman remain this night in the wigAvam of tho council, covered with skins, and let none disturb her. To-morrow we will offer a sacrifice of deer's flesh to the Great Spirit, and if he will not give her to tho raging fire and the torments of the avengers, he will tell us so by the words of his mouth. If he does not speak, it shall be done to her as the Old Eagle and his brothers have said." The head chief said — " Chenos has spoken well ; wisdom is in his words. Make for the strange woman a soft bed of skins, and treat her kindly, for it may bo she is a daughter of the Great Spirit." Then they all returned to their cabins and slept, save the Head Buffalo, who, fearing for the woman's life, laid himself down at the door of the lodge, and watched. When the morning came the warrior went to the forest and killed a deer which he brought to Chenos, who prepared it for a sacrifice, and sang a song while the flesh lay on the fire. " Let us listen," said Chenos, stopping the warriors IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) &< ^, 1.0 I.I 1.25 '■z m ,56 1^2 IM IIIM IM 1.8 L^- III 16 - 6' % >. ^^■ // 7 I yS^ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 V iV A \ r<^ «^, m '>^^ .\ t* Kp m^ ^w di 4 170 INDIAN FOLKLORE. in their dance. " Let us see if the Great Spirit hears us." They listened, but could hear nothing. Chenos asked him why he did not speak, but he did not answer. Then they sang again. ' * Hush ! " said Chenos listening. " I hear the crow- ing of the Great Turkey-cock. I hear him speaking." They stopped, and Chenos went close to the fire and talked with his master, but nobody saw with whom he talked. " What does the Great Spirit tell his prophet ? " asked the head chief. "He says," answered Chenos, "the young woman must not be offered to him. He wills her to live and become the mother of many children." Many were pleased that she was to live, but those who had lost brothers or sons were not appeased, and they said — " We will have blood. We will go to the priest of the Evil Spirit, and ask him if Lis master will not give us revenge.'' Not far from where our nation had their council fire was a great hill, covered with stunted trees and moss, and rugged rocks. There was a great cave in it, in which dwelt Sketupah, the priest of the Evil One, who there did worship to his master. Sketupah would have been tall had he been straight, but he was more crooked than a bent bow. His hair was like a bunch of grapes, and his eyes like two coals of fire. Many were the gifts our nation made to him to gain his favour, and the favour of his master. TIQVA 171 fit hears Chenos did not )he crow- )eaking." the fire ;aw with :ophetr' g woman jr to live n\t those ippeased, he priest r will not ir council trees and at cave in the Evil Sketupah it, but he hair was '^o coals of e to him is master. Who but he feasted on the fattest buffalo hump 1 Who but he fed on the earliest ear of milky com, on the best things that grew on the land or in the water 1 The Old Eagle went to the mouth of the cave and cried with a loud voice — "Sketupah!" " Sketupah ! " answered the hoarse voice of the Evil One from the hollow cave. He soon came and asked the Old Eagle what he wanted. "Eevenge for our sons who have been killed by the Walkullas and their friends. Will "your master hear us V "My master must have a sacrifice ; he must smell blood," answered Sketupah. " Then we shall know if he will give revenge. Bring hither a sacrifice in the morning." So in the morning they brought a sacrifice, and the priest laid it on the fire while he danced around. He ceased singing and listened, but the Evil Spirit answered not. Just as he was going to commence another song the warriors saw a large ball rolling very fast up the hill to the spot where they stood. It was the height of a man, When it came up to them it began to unwind itself slowly, until at last a little strange-looking man crept out of the ball, which was made of his own hair. He was no higher than one's shoulders. One of his feet made a strange track, such as no warrior had ever seen before. His face was as black as the shell of the butter-nut or the feathers of the raven, and his eyes as green as grass. His hair was of the colour 172 INDIAN FOLKLORE, of moss, and so long that, as the wind blew it out, it seemed the tail of a fiery star. " What do you ant of me 1 " he asked. The priest answered — "The Shawanos want revenge. They want to sacrifice the beautiful daughter of the sun, whom the Head Buffalo has brought from the camp of the Walkullas." "They shall have their wish," said the Evil Spirit. "Go and fetch her." Then Old Eagle and the warriors fetched her. Head Buffalo would have fought for her, but Chenos commanded him to be still. "My master," he said, "will see she does not sujffer." Then they fastened her to the stake. The head warrior had stood still, for he hoped that the priest of the Great Spirit should snatch her away from the Evil One. Now he shouted his war-cry and rushed upon Sketupah. It was in vain. Sketupah's master did but breathe upon the face of the warrior when he fell as though he had struck him a blow, and never breathed more. Then the Evil One commanded them to seize Chenos. "Come, my master," cried Chenos, "for the hands of the Evil One are upon me." As soon as he had said this, very far over the tall hills, which Indians call the Backbone of the Great Spirit, the people saw two great lights, brighter and larger than stars, moving very fast towards the land of the Shawanos. One was just as high as another, and they were both as high as the goat-sucker flies PIQUA. 173 the the tall Great ter and he land lother, )r flies before a thunderstorm. At first they were close together, but as they came nearer they grew wider apart. Soon our people saw that they were two eyes, and in a little while the body of a great man, whose head nearly reached the sky, came after them. Brothers, the eyes of the Great Spirit always go before him, and nothing is hid from his sight. Brothers, I cannot describe the Master of Life as he stood before the warriors of our nation. Can vou look steadily on the star of the morning ? When the Evil Spirit saw the Spirit of Good coming, he began to grow in stature, and continued swelling until he was as tall and big as he. When the Spirit of Good came near and saw how the Evil Spirit had grown, he stopped, and, looking angry, said, with a voice that shook the hills — " You lied; you promised to stay among the white people and the nations towards the rising sun, and not trouble my people more." "This woman," replied the Evil Spirit, "comes from my country; she is mine." ''She is mine," said the Great Spirit. "I had given her for a wife to the warrior whom you have killed. Tell me no more lies, bad manito, lest I punish you. Away, and see you trouble my people no more." The cowardly spirit made no answer, but shrank down to the size he was when he first came. Then he be^an as before to roll himself up in his hair, which he soon did, and then disappeared as he came. When he was gone, the Great Spirit shrank till he 174 INDIAN FOLKLORE. was no larger than a Shawano, and began talking to our people in a soft sweet voice — "Men of the Shawanos nation- I love you and have always loved you. I bade you conquer your enemies; I gave your foes into your hands. I sent herds of deer and many bears and moose to your hunting-ground, and made my suns shine upon your corn. Who lived so well, who fought so bravely as the Shawanos ? Whose women bore so many sons as yours ? "Why did you disturb the sacrifice which the Walkullas were offering to me at the feast of green com ? I was angry, and gave your warriors into the hands of their enemies. " Shawanos, hear my words, and forget them not ; do as I bid you, and you shall see my power and my goodness. Offer no further violence to the white maiden, but treat her kindly. Go now and rake up the ashes of the sacrifice fire into a heap, gathering up the brands. When the great star of evening rises, open the ashes, put in the body of the Head Buffalo, lay on much wood, and kindle a fire on it. Let all the nation be called together, for all must assist in laying wood on the fire, but they must put on no pine, nor the tree which bears white flowers, nor the grape-vine which yields no fruit, nor the shrub whose dew blisters the flesh. The fire must be kept burning two whole moons. It must not go out ; it must burn night and day. On the first day of the third moon put no wood on the fire, but let it die. On the morning of the second day the Shawanos PIQUA. 175 talking you and uer your mds. I moose to line upon ought so 1 bore so vhich the i of green s into the bhem not ; 3r and my fehe white d rake up gathering f evening the Head fire on it. all must must put ,e flowers, the shrub must be st not go first day but let it Shawanos must all come to the heap of ashes — every man, woman, and child must come, and the aged who cannot walk must be helped to it. Then Chenos and the head chief must bring out the beautiful woman, and place her near the ashes. This is the will of the Great Spirit." When he had finished these words he began to swell until he had reached his former bulk and stature. Then at each of his shoulders came out a wing of the colour of the gold-headed pigeon. Gently shaking these, he took flight from the land of the Shawanos, and was never seen in those beauti- ful regions again. The Shawanos did as he bade them. They raked the ashes together, laid the body of Head Buffalo in them, lighted the fire, and kept it burning the appointed time. On the first day of the third moon they let the fire out, assembled the nation around, and placed the beautiful woman near the ashes. They waited, and looked to see what would happen. At last the priests and warriors who were nearest began to shout, crying out — " Piqua ! " which in the Shawanos tongue means a man coming out of the ashes, or a man made of ashes. They told no lie. There he stood, a man tall and straight as a young pine, looking like a Shawanos, but handsomer than any man of our nation. The first thing he did was to cry the war-whoop, and demand paint, a club, a bow and arrows, and a hatchet, — all of which were given him. Looking 176 INDIAN FOLKLORE. around he saw the white woman, and he walked up to her, and gazed in her eyes. Then he came to the head chief and said — "I must have that woman for my wife." *■ What are you ? " asked the chief. *' A man of ashes," he replied. " Who made you ? " "The Great Spirit; and now let me go, that I may take my bow and arrows, kill ray deer, and come back and take the beautiful maiden for my wife." The chief asked Chenos — " Shall he have her 1 Does the Great Spirit give her to him?" " Yes," replied the priest. " The Great Spirit has willed that he shall have her, and from them shall arise a tribe to be called Piqua." Brothers, I am a Piqua, descended from the man made of ashes. If I have told you a lie, blame not me, for I have but told the story as I heard it. Brothers, I have done. walked up [ime to the go, that I , and come y wife." Spirit give Spirit has hem shall L the man blame not heard it. THE EVIL MAKER. The Great Spirit made man, and all the good thin-s 11 V Tq '• ''^^' '^' ^''^ ^^''''' '''' ^«^^^P- When the Evil Spirit awoke he saw an Indian, and, wonder- ing at his appearance, he went to him and asked- Who made you ? " '' The Great Spirit," replied the man. «,J1 1 ^^"*^^"gh^ ^he Evil Spirit, "if he can make such a being so can I." So he went to work, and tri.d his best to make an Indian like the man he saw. but he made some mis- that he had failed he was very angry, and in that sta e was walking about when he met a black bear. ^ Who made you?" he asked. "The Great Spirit," answered the bear beir too"'" ^^''''^''^ *^'' ^^'^ ^^"''^' "^ "^^^ "^^^^ * To work he went, but do what he would ne could not make a black bear, but only a grizzly one, unfit for food. Moi-e disgusted than before, he was walk- mg through the forest when he found a beautiful serpent. Indian. M 178 INDIAN FOLKLORE. Hill " Who made you 1 " he asked. "The Great Spirit," replied the serpent. " Then I will make some like you," said the Evil Maker. He tried his best, but the serpents he made were all noisome and poisonous, and he saw that he had failed again. Then it occurred to him that he might make some trees and flowers, but all his efi'orts only resulted in his producing some poor deformed trees and weeds. Then he said — " It is true, I have failed in making things like the Great Spirit, but I can at least spoil what he has made." And he went off to put murder and lies in the hearts of men. MANABOZHO THE WOLF. Manabozho set out to travel. He wished to outdo all others, and see new countries, but after walking over America, and encountering many adventures, he became satisfied as well as fatigued. He had heard of great feats in hunting, and felt a desire to try his power in that way. One evening, as he was walking along the shores of a great lake, weary and hungry, he encountered a great magician in the form of an old wolf, with six young ones, coming towards him. The wolf, as soon as he saw him, told his whelps to keep out of the way of Manabozho. "For I know," said he, "that it is he we see yonder. The young wolves were in the act of running off when Manabozho cried out— ' "My grandchildren, where are you going ? Stop, and I will go with you." He appeared rejoiced to see the old wolf, and asked him whither he was journeying. Being told that they were looking out for a place where they could find the most game, and best pass the winter 179 5^^^^^" 180 INDIAN FOLKLORE. ^ he said he should like to go with them, and addressed the old wolf in these words — "Brothei-, I have a passion for the chase. Are you willing to change me into a wolf ? " The old wolf was agreeable, and Manabozho's transformation was effected. He was fond of novelty. He found himself a wolf corresponding lii size with the others, but he was not quite satisfied with the change, crying out — " Oh ! make me a little larger." They did so. " A little larger still," he cried. They said — " Let us humour him," and granted his request '« Well," said he, " that will do." Then looking at his tail — " Oh !" cried he, " make my tail a little longer and more bushy." They made it so, and shortly after they all started off in company, dashing up a ravine. After getting into the woods some distance, they fell in with the tracks of moose. The young wolves went after them, Manabozho and the old wolf following at their leisure. "Well," said the wolf, "who do you think is the fastest of my sons 1 Can you tell by the jumps they take 1 " "Why," replied he, "that one that takes such long jumps ; he is the fastest, to be sure." " Ha, ha ! You are mistaken," said the old wolf. He makes a good start, but he will be the first to (( MANABOZHO THE WOLF. Igl be nrfi .?^! TJ^"" 'PP'"'« *^ b« behind will be the first to kill the game." Soon after they came to the place where the young ones had killed the game. One of them had dropped his bundle there. ^^^ "Take that, Manabozho," said the old wolf doglTn?"''''^^'^' ""^"'"^^^ ^ ^« ^^^^h ' ^^'■^v The wolf took it up; it was a beautiful robe. Oh ! I will carry it now," said Manabozho. exerted IT' ''^ ^'^ '^' '''^^' ^^^ '' ^^e moment exerted 1 is magic power. '« It is a robe of pearls." nlaW b '^'"''"' ^'' ^''' "' opportunity of dis- playing his superiority, both in the hunter's and magician's art, over his conceited companion Coming to a place where the moose had lain down TZ r .f • '^" ^''""^' ""'^''^ ^^^^ '^^^' ^ fresh start after their prey. "Why," said the'wolf, "this moose is poor. I know bj- the tracks, for I can always tell whether they are fat or not." wiitmcr ^l!^\''!f-T^ '" * P''"'^ ^^'"''« one of the wolves had tned t. ■ bite the moose, and, failing, had broken one of his teeth on a tree ^ "Manabozho " said the wolf, "one of your grand- children has shot at the game. Take his arrow Ibere it is. ■ (( tooth 1 No," replied he, -what will I do with a dirty The old^ wolf took it up, and, behold beautiful sil\ er arrow. ! it was a 182 INDIAN FOr