" Then the Deaf Man divided the
treasure
; one great heap for himself, and one little heap for the Blind Man.
Universal Anthology - v01
Then, when the last golden piece had been fought for, King Karan would sit down to his breakfast, and enjoy it as a man who has kept his word should do.
Now, when people saw the King lavishing his gold in this fashion, they naturally thought that sooner or later the royal treasuries must give out, the gold come to an end, and the King — who was evidently a man of his word — die of starvation. But, though months and years passed by, every day, just a quarter of an hour before breakfast time, the servants came out of the palace with baskets and baskets of gold ; and as the crowds dispersed they could see the King sitting down to his
breakfast in the royal banqueting hall, as jolly and fat and hungry as could be.
Now, of course, there was some secret in all this, and this secret I shall now tell you. King Karan had made a compact with a holy and very hungry old faqir, who lived at the top of the hill ; and the compact was this : On condition of King Karan
HINDOO APOLOGUES. 245
allowing himself to be fried and eaten for breakfast every day, the faqir gave him a hundredweight of pure gold.
Of course, had the faqir been an ordinary sort of person, the compact would not have lasted long, for once King Karan had been fried and eaten, there would have been an end of the mat ter. But the faqir was a very remarkable faqir indeed ; and when he had eaten the King, and picked the bones quite clean, he just put them together, said a charm or two, and, hey presto ! there was King Karan as fat and jolly as ever, ready for the next morning's breakfast. In fact, the faqir made no bones at all over the affair, which, it must be confessed, was very con venient both for the breakfast and the breakfast eater. Never theless, it was, of course, not pleasant to be popped alive every morning into a great frying pan of boiling oil ; and for my part, I think King Karan earned his hundredweight of gold handsomely. But after a time he got accustomed to the pro cess, and would go up quite cheerfully to the holy and hungry one's house, where the biggest frying pan was spitting and sputtering over the sacred fire. Then he would just pass the time of day to the faqir, to make sure he was punctual, and step gracefully into his hot oil bath. My goodness! how he sizzled and fizzled ! When he was crisp and brown, the faqir ate him, picked the bones, set them together, sang a charm, and finished the business by bringing out his dirty old ragged coat, which he shook and shook, while the bright golden pieces came tumbling out of the pockets on to the floor.
So that was the way King Karan got his gold, and if you
think it very extraordinary, so do I
!
Now, in the great Mansarobar Lake, where, as of course you
know, all the wild swans live when they leave us, and feed upon seed pearls, there was a great famine. Pearls were so scarce that one pair of swans determined to go out into the world and seek for food. So they flew into King Bikramajit's garden, at Ujjayin. Now, when the gardener saw the beautiful birds, he was delighted, and, hoping to induce them to stay, he threw them grain to eat. But they would not touch nor any other food he offered them so he went to his master, and told him there were pair of swans in the garden who refused to eat anything.
Then King Bikramajit went out, and asked them in birds' language (for, as every one knows, Bikramajit understood both beasts and birds) why was that they ate nothing.
it
;
a
it,
246 HINDOO APOLOGUES.
" We don't eat grain ! " said they, " nor fruit, nor anything but fresh, unpierced pearls ! "
Whereupon King Bikramajit, being very kind-hearted, sent for a basket of pearls ; and every day, when he came into the garden, he fed the swans with his own hand.
But one day, when he was feeding them as usual, one of the pearls happened to be pierced. The dainty swans found it out at once, and coming to the conclusion that King Bikramajit's supply of pearls was running short, they made up their minds to go farther afield. So, despite his entreaties, they spread their broad white wings, and flew up into the blue sky, their outstretched necks pointing straight towards home on the great Mansarobar Lake. Yet they were not ungrateful, for as they flew they sang the praises of Bikramajit.
Now, King Karan was watching his servants bring out the baskets of gold, when the wild swans came flying over his head ; and when he heard them singing, " Glory to Bikramajit ! glory to Bikramajit ! " he said to himself : " Who is this whom even the birds praise ? I let myself be fried and eaten every day, in order that I may be able to give away a"hundredweight of gold in charity, yet no swan sings my song !
So, being jealous, he sent for a bird catcher, who snared the poor swans with lime, and put them in a cage.
Then Karan hung the cage in the palace, and ordered his servants to bring every kind of birds' food; but the" proud swans only curved their white necks in scorn, saying, Glory to Bikramajit ! — he gave us pearls to eat ! "
Then King Karan, determined not to be outdone, sent for pearls ; but still the scornful swans would not touch any thing.
"Why will ye not eat? " quoth King Karan, wrathfully; "am I not as generous as Bikramajit? "
Then the swan's wife answered, and said, " Kings do not imprison the innocent. Kings do not war against women. If Bikramajit were here, he would at any rate let me go ! "
So Karan, not to be outdone in generosity, let the swan's wife go, and she spread her broad white wings and flew south wards to Bikramajit, and told him how her husband lay a prisoner at the court of King Karan.
Of course Bikramajit, who was, as every one knows, the most generous of kings, determined to release the poor captive ; and bidding the swan fly back and rejoin her mate, he put on
HINDOO APOLOGUES. 247
the garb of a servant, and taking the name of Bikru, journeyed northwards till he came to King Karan's kingdom. Then he took service with the King, and helped every day to carry out the baskets of golden pieces. He soon saw there was some secret in King Karan's endless wealth, and never rested until he had found it out. So, one day, hidden close by, he saw King Karan enter the faqir's house and pop into the boiling oil. He saw him frizzle and sizzle, he saw him come out crisp and brown, he saw the hungry and holy faqir pick the bones, and, finally, he saw King Karan, fat and jolly as ever, go down the mountain side with his hundredweight of gold !
Then Bikru knew what to do ! So the very next day he rose very early, and taking a carving knife, he slashed himself all over. Next he took some pepper and salt, spices, pounded pomegranate seeds, and pea flour ; these he mixed together into a beautiful curry stuff, and rubbed himself all over with it — right into the cuts in spite of the smarting. When he thought he was quite ready for cooking, he just went up the hill to the faqir's house, and popped into the frying pan. The faqir was still asleep, but he soon awoke with the sizzling and the fizzling, and said to himself, " Dear me ! how uncommonly nice the King smells this morning ! "
Indeed, so appetizing was the smell, that he could hardly wait until the King was crisp and brown, but then — oh, my goodness ! how he gobbled him up !
You see, he had been eating plain fried so long that a deviled king was quite a change. He picked the bones ever so clean, and it is my belief would have eaten them too, if he had not been afraid of killing the goose that laid the golden eggs.
Then, when it was all over, he put the King together again, and said, with tears in his eyes, " What a breakfast that was, to be sure ! Tell me how you managed to taste so nice, and I'll give you anything you ask. "
Whereupon Bikru told him the way it was done, and prom ised to devil himself every morning, if he might have the old coat in return. " For," said he, " it is not pleasant to be fried ! and I don't see why I should in addition have the trouble of carIrying a hundredweight of gold to the palace every day. Now,
if coat.
keep the coat, I can shake it down there. "
To this the faqir agreed, and off went Bikru with the
248 HINDOO APOLOGUES.
Meanwhile King Karan came toiling up the hill, and was surprised, when he entered the faqirs house, to find the fire out, the frying pan put away, and the faqir himself as holy as ever, but not in the least hungry.
" Why, what is the matter ? " faltered the King.
" Who are you ? " asked the faqir, who, to begin with, was somewhat short-sighted, and in addition felt drowsy after his heavy meal.
" Who ! Why, I'm King Karan, come to be fried ! Don't you want your breakfast ? "
" I've had my breakfast ! " sighed the faqir, regretfully. "You " tasted very nice when you were deviled, I can assure
you ! I never was deviled in life ! " shouted the King ; " my "
must have eaten somebody else ! " " That's just what I was saying to myself !
"you
———
I thought it couldn't be only the spices
returned the
faqir, sleepily ; "
— that " Snore, snore, snore !
" Look here ! " cried King Karan, in a rage, shaking the faqir, " you must eat me too ! "
" Couldn't ! " nodded the holy but satisfied faqir, " really — not another morsel — no, thanks ! "
" Then give me my gold ! " shrieked King Karan ; " you're bound to"do that, for I'm ready to fulfil my part of the contract !
" Sorry I can't oblige, but the devil — I mean the other person — went off with the coat ! " nodded the faqir.
Hearing this, King Karan returned home in despair and ordered the royal treasurer to send him gold ; so that day he ate his breakfast in peace.
And the next day also, by ransacking all the private treasuries, a hundredweight of gold was forthcoming ; so King Karan ate his breakfast as usual, though his heart was gloomy.
But the third day, the royal treasurer arrived with empty hands, and, casting himself on the ground, exclaimed, " May it please your majesty ! there is not any more gold in your majesty's domains ! "
Then King Karan went solemnly to bed, without any break fast, and the crowd, after waiting for hours expecting to see the palace doors open and the servants come out with the baskets of gold, melted away, saying it was a great shame to deceive poor folk in that way !
OGRES OF HINDOO DEMONOLOGY. 249
By dinner time poor King Karan was visibly thinner ; but he was a man of his word, and though the wily Bikru came and tried to persuade him to eat, by saying he could not possibly be blamed, he shook his head, and turned his face to the wall.
Then Bikru, or Bikramajft, took the faqir'g old coat, and, shaking it before the King, said, " Take the money, my friend ; and what is more, if you will set the wild swans you have in that cage at liberty, I will give you the coat into the bargain ! "
So King Karan set the wild swans at liberty; and as the pair of them flew away to the great Mansarobar Lake, they sang as they went, " Glory to Bikramajit ! the generous
Bikramajft ! "
Then King Karan hung his head, and said to himself, " The
swans' song is true ! — Bikram&jft is more generous than I for if I was fried for the sake of a hundredweight of gold and my breakfast, he was deviled in order to set a bird at liberty ! "
;
Those famous Hindu demons, the Rakshas, are the origi nals of all the ogres and giants of our nursery tales. Now the Rakshas were very terrible creatures indeed, and in the minds of many people in India are so still, for they are believed in even now. Their natural form, so the stories say, is that of huge, unshapely giants, like clouds, with hair and beard of the color of the red lightning ; but they can take any form they please, to deceive those whom they wish to devour — for their great delight, like that of the ogres, is to kill all they meet, and to eat the flesh of those whom they kill. Often they appear as hunters, of monstrous size, with tusks instead of teeth, and with horns on their heads, and all kinds of grotesque and frightful weapons and ornaments. They are very strong, and make themselves stronger by various arts of magic ; and they are strongest of all at nightfall, when they are supposed to roam about the jungles, to enter the tombs, and even to make their way into the cities, and carry off their victims.
But the Rakshas are not alone like ogres in their cruelty, but also in their fondness for money, and for precious stones, which they get together in great quantities and conceal in their palaces;
OGRES OF HINDOO DEMONOLOGY. By J. T. BUNCE.
250 OGRES OF HINDOO DEMONOLOGY.
for some of them are kings of their species, and have thousands upon thousands of inferior Rakshas under their command. But while they are so numerous and so powerful, the Rakshas, like all the ogres and giants in Fairyland, are also very stupid, and are easily outwitted by clever people. There are many Hindu stories which are told to show this. I will tell you one of them.
Two little Princesses were badly treated at home, and so they ran away into a great forest, where they found a palace belonging to a Rakshas, who had gone out. So they went into the house and feasted, and swept the rooms, and made every thing neat and tidy. Just as they had done this, the Rakshas and his wife came home, and the two Princesses ran up to the top of the house, and hid themselves on the flat roof. When the Rakshas got indoors he said to his wife : " Somebody has been making everything clean and tidy. Wife, did you do this? " "No," she said; "I don't know who can have done it. " "Some one has been sweeping the courtyard," said the Rakshas ; " wife, did you sweep the courtyard ? " " No," she
I did not do it. " Then the Rakshas walked round
answered ; "
and round several times, with his nose up in the air, saying :
I smell flesh and blood. Where can They went on disputing, till at last the Rakshas gave it up.
" Some one is here now ;
they be ? " " Stuff and nonsense ! " cried the Rakshas' wife. " You smell flesh and blood, indeed ! Why, you have just been killing and eating a hundred thousand people. I should won der if you didn't still smell flesh and blood ! "
" Never mind," he said ; "
I don't know how it is
I am very
—
thirsty : let's come and drink some water. " So they went to
the well, and began letting down jars into it, and drawing them up, and drinking the water. Then the elder of the two Prin cesses, who was very bold and wise, said to her sister, " I will do something that will be very good for us both. " So she ran quickly downstairs, and crept close behind the Rakshas and his wife, as they stood on tiptoe more than half over the side of the well, and catching hold of one of the Rakshas' heels, and one of his wife's, she gave each a little push, and down they both tumbled into the well, and were drowned — the Rakshas and the Rakshas' wife. The Princess then went back to her sister, and said, " I have killed the Rakshas ! " " What, both ? " cried her sister. " Yes, both," she said. " Won't they come back ? " said her sister. " No, never," answered she.
OGRES OF HINDOO DEMONOLOGY. 251
Another story will show you how stupid a Rakshas and how easily he can be outwitted.
Once upon time Blind Man and Deaf Man made an agreement. The Blind Man was to hear for the Deaf Man and the Deaf Man was to see for the Blind Man and so they were to go about on their travels together. One day they went to nautch — that is, a singing and dancing exhibition. The Deaf Man said, " The dancing very good but the music
not worth listening to. " "I do not agree with you," the Blind Man said " think the music very good but the dancing not worth looking at. " So they went away for walk in the jungle. On the way they found donkey, belong ing to dhobee, or washerman, and big chattee, or iron pot, which the washerman used to boil clothes in. " Brother," said the Deaf Man, " here donkey and chattee let us take them with us, they may be useful. " So they took them, and went on. Presently they came to an ants' nest. " Here," said the Deaf Man, " are number of very fine black ants let us take some of them to show our friends. " " Yes," said the Blind Man, "they will do as presents to our friends. " So the Deaf Man took out silver box from his pocket, and put several of the black ants into it. After time terrible storm came on. " Oh dear " cried the Deaf Man, " how dreadful this lightning let us get to some place of shelter. " "I don't see that it's dreadful at all," said the Blind Man, "but the thunder terrible let us get under shelter. "
So they went up to building that looked like temple, and went in, and took the donkey and the big pot and the black ants with them. But was not temple, was the house of
powerful Rakshas, and the Rakshas came home as soon as they had got inside and had fastened the door. Finding that he couldn't get in, he began to make great noise, louder than the thunder, and he beat upon the door with his great fists. Now the Deaf Man looked through chink, and saw him, and was very frightened, for the Rakshas was dreadful to look at. But the Blind Man, as he couldn't see, was very brave and he went to the door and called out, " Who are you and what do you mean by coming here and battering at the door in this way, and at this time of night " " I'm Rakshas," he answered, in a rage " and this my house, and you don't let me in will kill you. " Then the Blind Man called out in reply " Oh
you're
Rakshas, are you Well, you're Rakshas, I'm
?
a
is a
if
;
if
a
is
a a is a
a a
a
a
is
a is a is
is
a
a
;
is a I
a
a ? a
it
it
aa
!
! ;
; ? ;
:;; ;
;
a
! Ia;
is,
252 OGRES OF HINDOO DEMONOLOGY.
Bakshas, and Bakshas is as good as Rakshas. " "What non sense is this ? " cried the monster ; " there is no such creature as a Bakshas. " "Go away," replied the Blind Man; "if you make any further disturbance I'll punish you ; for know that I am Bakshas, and Bakshas is Rakshas' father. " "Heavens and earth ! " cried the Rakshas, " I never heard such an ex traordinary thing in my life. But if you are my father, let me see your face," —for he began to get puzzled and frightened, as the person inside was so very positive.
Now the Blind Man and the Deaf Man didn't quite know what to do ; but at last they opened the door just a little, and poked the donkey's nose out. " Bless me," thought the Rakshas, " what a terribly ugly face my father Bakshas has got. " Then he called out again : " Oh ! father Bakshas, you have a very big fierce face, but people have sometimes very big heads and very little bodies ; let me see you, body and head, before I go away. " Then the Blind Man and the Deaf Man rolled the great iron pot across the floor with a thundering noise ; and the Rakshas, who watched the chink of the door very carefully, said to himself, " He has got a great body as well, so I had better go away. " But he was still doubtful ; so he said, " Be fore I go away let me hear you scream," for all the tribe of the Rakshas scream dreadfully. Then the Blind Man and the Deaf Man took two of the black ants out of the box, and put one into each of the donkey's ears, and the ants bit the donkey, and the donkey began to bray and to bellow as loud as he could ; and then the Rakshas ran away quite frightened.
In the morning the Blind Man and the Deaf Man found that the floor of the house was covered with heaps of gold, and silver, and precious stones ; and they made four great bundles of the treasure, and took one each, and put the other two on the donkey, and off they went. But the Rakshas was waiting some distance off to see what his father Bakshas was like by daylight ; and he was very angry when he saw only a Deaf Man, and a Blind Man, and a big iron pot, and a donkey, all loaded with his gold and silver. So he ran off and fetched six of his friends to help him, and each of the six had hair a yard long, and tusks like an elephant. When the Blind Man and the Deaf Man saw them coming they went and hid the treasure in the bushes, and then they got up into a lofty betel palm and waited — the Deaf Man, because he could see, getting up first, to be furthest out of harm's way. Now the seven Rakshas
OGRES OF HINDOO DEMONOLOGY. 253
were not able to reach them, and so they said, " Let us get on each other's shoulders and pull them down. " So one Rakshas stooped down, and the second got on his shoulders, and the third on his, and the fourth on his, and the fifth on his, and the sixth on his, and the seventh — the one who had invited the others — was just climbing up, when the Deaf Man got frightened and caught hold of the Blind Man's arm, and as he was sitting quite at ease, not knowing that they were so close, the Blind Man was upset, and tumbled down on the neck of the seventh Rakshas. The Blind Man thought he had fallen into the branches of another tree, and stretching out his hands for something to take hold of, he seized the Rakshas' two great ears and pinched them very hard. This frightened the Rak shas, who lost his balance and fell down to the ground, up setting the other six of his friends, the Blind Man all the while pinching harder than ever, and the Deaf Man crying out from the top of the tree — " You're "all right, brother, hold on tight, I'm coming down to help you — though he really didn't
mean to do anything of the kind.
Well, the noise, and the pinching, and all the confusion, so
frightened the six Rakshas that they thought they had had enough of helping their friend, and so they ran away ; and the seventh Rakshas, thinking that because they ran there must be great danger, shook off the Blind Man and ran away too. And then the Deaf Man came down from the tree and embraced the Blind Man, and said, " I could not have done better myself.
" Then the Deaf Man divided the treasure ; one great heap for himself, and one little heap for the Blind Man. But the Blind Man felt his heap and then felt the other, and then, being angry at the cheat, he gave the Deaf Man a box on the ear, so tre mendous that it made the Deaf Man hear. And the Deaf Man, also being angry, gave the other such a blow in the face that it made the Blind Man see. So they became good friends directly, and divided the treasure into equal shares, and went home laughing at the stupid Rakshas.
254 PILPAY'S FABLES.
PILPAY'S FABLES.
[Pilpat: The reputed author of a widely circulated collection of fables, known as the "Fables of Pilpay," which originated from an old Indian collec tion in Sanskrit, entitled " Panchatantra. " It was first translated into Pahlavi about a. d. 550, and subsequently through the Arabic was transmitted to all the peoples of Europe. Versions are found even in the Malay, Mongol, and Afghan languages. ]
how we ought to make choice of friends, and what Advantage may be reaped from their Conversation.
Fable I.
THE RAVEN, THE RAT, AND THE PIGEONS.
Near adjoining to Odorna there was once a most delightful place, which was extremely full of wildfowl, and was therefore much frequented by the sportsmen and fowlers. A Raven one day accidentally espied in this place, at the foot of a tree, on the top of which she had built her nest, a certain Fowler with a net in his hand. The poor Raven was afraid at first, imagin ing it was herself that the Fowler aimed at ; but her fears ceased when she observed the motions of the person, who, after he had spread his net upon the ground, and scattered some corn about it to allure the birds, went and hid himself behind a hedge, where he was no sooner lain down, but a flock of Pigeons threw themselves upon the corn, without hearkening to their chieftain, who would fain have hindered them, telling them that they were not so rashly to abandon themselves to their passions. This prudent leader, who was an old Pigeon called Montivaga, perceiving them so obstinate, had many times a desire to separate himself from them ; but fate, that imperiously controls all living creatures, constrained him to follow the for tune of the rest, so that he alighted upon the ground with his companions. It was not long after this before they all saw themselves under the net, and just ready to fall into the Fowler's hands.
" Well," said Montivaga on this, mournfully to them, " what think you now ; will you believe me another time, if it be pos sible that you may get away from this destruction? I"see," continued he, perceiving how they fluttered to get loose, that
PILPAY'S FABLES. 255
every one of you minds his own safety only, never regarding what becomes of his companions ; and, let me tell you, that this is not only an ungrateful but a foolish way of acting ; we ought to make it our business to help one another, and it may be so charitable an action may save us all : let us all together strive to break the net. " On this they all obeyed Montivaga, and so well bestirred themselves, that they tore the net up from the ground, and carried it up with them into the air. The Fowler, on this, vexed to lose so fair a prey, followed the Pigeons, in hopes that the weight of the net would tire them.
In the mean time the Raven, observing all this, said to her self, " This is a very pleasant adventure, I am resolved to see the issue of it ; " and accordingly she took wing and followed them. Montivaga observing that the Fowler was resolved to pursue them, "This man," said he to his companions, "will never give over pursuing us till he has lost sight of us ; there fore, to prevent our destruction, let us bend our flight to some thick wood or some ruined castle, to the end that, when we are protected by some forest or thick wall, despair may force him to retire. " This expedient had the desired success ; for, having secured themselves among the boughs of a thick forest, where the Fowler lost sight of them, he returned home, full sorely afflicted for the loss of his game and his net to boot.
As for the Raven, she followed them still, out of curiosity to know how they got out of the net, that she might make use of the same secret upon the like occasion.
The Pigeons, thus quit of the Fowler, were overjoyed : however, they were still troubled with the entanglements of the net, which they could not get rid of : but Montivaga, who was fertile in inventions, soon found a way for that.
" We must address ourselves," said he, " to some intimate friend, who, setting aside all treacherous and by-ends, will go faithfully to work for our deliverance. I know a Rat," con tinued he, " that lives not far from hence, a faithful friend of mine, whose name is Zirac ; he, I know, will gnaw the net, and set us at liberty. " The Pigeons, who desired nothing more, all entreated to fly to this friend ; and soon after they arrived at the Rat's hole, who came forth upon the fluttering of their wings ; and, astonished and surprised to see Montivaga so entangled in the net, " O ! my dear friend," said he, " how came you in this condition ? "
To whom Montivaga replied, " I desire you, my most faith*
256 PILPAY'S FABLES.
ful friend, first of all to disengage my companions. " But Zirac, more troubled to see his friend bound than for all the rest, would needs pay his respects to him first ; but Montivaga cried out, " I conjure you once more, by our sacred friendship, to set my companions at liberty before me ; for that besides being their chieftain I ought to take care for them in the first place, I am afraid the pains thou wilt take to unbind me will slacken thy good offices to the rest ; whereas the friendship thou hast for me will excite thee to hasten their deliverance, that thou mayest be sooner in a condition to give me my free dom. " The Rat, admiring the solidity of these arguments, applauded Montivaga's generosity, and fell to unloosening the strangers ; which was soon done, and then he performed the same kind office for his friend.
Montivaga, thus at liberty, together with his companions, took his leave of Zirac, returning him a thousand thanks for his kindness. And when they were gone, the Rat returned to his hole.
The Raven, having observed all this, had a great desire to
be acquainted with Zirac.
and called him by his name.
voice, asked who he was.
is a Raven who has some business of importance to impart to thee. "
To which end he went to his hole, Zirac, frighted to hear a strange To which the Raven answered, " It
" What business," replied the Rat, " can you and I have together ? We are enemies. " Then the Raven told him, he desired to list himself in the number of a Rat's acquaintance whom he knew to be so sincere a friend.
-'I beseech you," answered Zirac, "find out some other creature, whose friendship agrees better with your disposition. You lose your time in endeavoring to persuade me to such an incompatible reconciliation. "
" Never stand upon incompatibilities," said the Raven, " but do a generous action, by affording an innocent person your friendship and acquaintance, when he desires it at your hands. "
" You may"talk to me of generosity till your lungs ache," replied Zirac, I know your tricks too well : in a word, we are creatures of so different species that we can never be either friends or acquaintance. The example which I remember of the Partridge, that overhastily granted her friendship to a Falcon, is a sufficient warning to make me wiser. "
PILPAY'S FABLES. 257
Fable II.
THE PARTRIDGE AND THE FALCON.
"A Partridge," said Zirac, keeping close in his hole, but very obligingly pursuing his discourse, " was promenading at the foot of a hill, and tuning her throat, in her coarse way, so delightfully, that a Falcon flying that way, and hearing her voice, came towards her, and very civilly was going to ask her acquaintance. ' Nobody,' said he to himself, ' can live without a friend ; and it is the saying of the wise that they who want friends labor under perpetual sickness. ' With these thoughts he would fain have accosted the Partridge ; but she, perceiving him, escaped into a hole, all over in a cold sweat for fear.
" The Falcon followed her, and presenting himself at the entrance of the hole, ' My dear Partridge,' said he, ' I own that I never had hitherto any great kindness for you, because I did not know your merit ; but since my good fortune now has made me acquainted with your merry note, be pleased to give me leave to speak with you, that I may offer you my friend ship, and that I may beg of you to grant me yours. '
" ' Tyrant,' answered the Partridge, ' let me alone, and labor not in vain to reconcile fire and water. '
" ' Most amiable Partridge,' replied the Falcon, ' banish these idle fears, and be convinced that I love you, and desire that we may enter into a familiarity together : had I any other design, I would not trouble myself to court you with such soft language out of your hole. Believe me, I have such good pounces, that I would have seized a dozen other Partridges in the time that I have been courting your affection. I am sure you will have reasons enough to be glad of my friendship ; first, because no other Falcon shall do you any harm while you are under my protection ; secondly, because that being in my nest, you will be honored by the world ; and, lastly, I will procure you a male to keep you company, and give you all the delights of love and a young progeny. '
" It is impossible for me to think that you can have so much kindness for me,' replied the Partridge : ' but, indeed, should this be true, I ought not to accept your proposal ; for you being the prince of birds, and of the greatest strength, and I a poor weak Partridge, whenever I shall do anything that displeases you, you will not fail to tear me to pieces. '
258 PILPAY'S FABLES.
" ' No, no,' said the Falcon, ' set your heart at rest for that ; the faults that friends commit are easily pardoned. ' Much other discourse of this kind passed between them, and many doubts were started and answered satisfactorily, so that at length the Falcon testified such an extraordinary friendship for the Partridge, that she could no longer refuse to come out of her hole. And no sooner was she come forth, than the Fal con tenderly embraced her, and carried her to his nest, where for two or three days he made it his whole business to divert her. The Partridge, overjoyed to see herself so caressed, gave her tongue more liberty than she had done before, and talked much of the cruelty and savage temper of the birds of prey. This began to offend the Falcon ; though for the present he dissembled it. One day, however, he unfortunately fell ill, which hindered him from going abroad in search of prey, so that he grew hungry ; and wanting victuals, he soon became melancholy, morose, and churlish. His being out of humor quickly alarmed the Partridge, who kept herself, very prudently, close in a corner, with a very modest countenance. But the Falcon, soon after, no longer able to endure the importunities of his stomach, resolved to pick a quarrel with the poor Par tridge. To which purpose, 'It is not proper,' said he, 'that you should lie lurking there in the shade, while all the world is exposed to the heat of the sun. '
" The Partridge, trembling every joint of her, replied, ' King of birds, it is now night, and all the world is in the shade as well as I, nor do I know what sun you mean. ' ' Insolent bag gage,' replied the Falcon, ' then you will make me either a liar or mad : ' and so saying, he fell upon her, and tore her to pieces.
" Do not believe," pursued the Rat, " that upon the faith of your promises, I will lay myself at your mercy. "
" Recollect yourself," answered the Raven, " and consider that it is not worth my while to fool my stomach with such a diminutive body as thine ; it is therefore with no such intent I am talking with thee, but I know thy friendship may be bene ficial to me ; scruple not, therefore, to grant me this favor. "
" The sages of old," replied the Rat, " admonish us to take care of being deluded by the fair words of our enemies, as was a certain unfortunate Man, whose story, if you please, I will relate to you. "
PILPAY'S FABLES. 259
Fable III.
THE MAN AND THE ADDER.
A Man mounted upon a Camel once rode into a thicket, and went to rest himself in that part of it from whence a caravan was just departed, and where the people having left a fire, some sparks of it, being driven by the wind, had set a bush, wherein lay an Adder, all in a flame. The fire environed the Adder in such a manner that he knew not how to escape, and was just giving himself over to destruction, when he perceived the Man already mentioned, and with a thousand mournful conjurations begged of him to save his life. The Man, on this, being natu rally compassionate, said to himself, " It is true these creatures are enemies to mankind ; however, good actions are of great value, even of the very greatest when done to our enemies ; and whoever sows the seed of good works, shall reap the fruit of blessings. " After he had made this reflection, he took a sack, and tying it to the end of his lance, reached it over the flame to the Adder, who flung himself into it ; and when he was safe in, the traveler pulled back the bag, and gave the Adder leave to come forth, telling him he might go about his business ; but hoped he would have the gratitude to make him a promise, never to do any more harm to men, since a man had done him so great a piece of service. "
To this the ungrateful creature answered,
take both yourself and me : think not that I intend to be gone so calmly ; no, my design is first to leave thee a parting bless ing, and throw my venom upon thee and thy Camel. "
" Monster of ingratitude ! " replied the Traveler, " desist a moment at least, and tell me whether it be lawful to recompense good with evil. "
" No," replied the Adder, " it certainly is not ; but in acting in that manner I shall do no more than what yourselves do every day ; that is to say, retaliate good deeds with wicked actions, and requite benefits with ingratitude. "
" You cannot prove this slanderous and wicked aspersion," replied the Traveler : " nay, I will venture to say that if you can show me any one other creature in the world that is of your opinion, I will consent to whatever punishment you think fit to inflict on me for the faults of my fellow-creatures. "
" I agree to this willingly," answered the Adder ; and at
You much mis
260
PILPAY'S FABLES.
the same time spying a Cow, " Let us propound our question," said he, "to this creature before us, and we shall see what answer she will make. " The Man consented ; and so both of them accosting the Cow, the Adder put the question to her, how a good turn was to be requited. "By its contrary," replied the Cow, "if you mean according to the custom of men ; and this I know by sad experience. I belong," said she, "to a man, to whom I have long been several ways ex
I have been used to bring him a calf every year, and to supply his house with milk, butter, and cheese;
On this, the Adder, taking upon him to speak, said to the Man, " What say you now ? are not your own customs a suffi cient warrant for me to treat you as I intend to do ? "
The Traveler, not a little confounded at this ill-timed story, was cunning enough, however, to answer, " This is a particular case only, and give me leave to say, one witness is not sufficient to convict me ; therefore pray let me have another. "
"With all my heart," replied the Adder; "let us address ourselves to this Tree that stands here before us. " The Tree, having heard the subject of their dispute, gave his opinion in the following words : " Among men, benefits are never requited but with ungrateful actions. I protect travelers from the heat of the sun, and yield them fruit to eat, and a delightful liquor to drink ; nevertheless, forgetting the delight and benefit of my shade, they barbarously cut down my branches to make sticks, and handles for hatchets, and saw my body to make planks and rafters. Is not this requiting good with evil ? "
The Adder, on this, looking upon the Traveler, asked if he was satisfied. But he was in such a confusion that he knew not what to answer. However, in hopes to free himself from the danger that threatened him, he said to the Adder, " I desire only one favor more ; let us be judged by the next beast we meet ; give me but that satisfaction, it is all I crave : you know life is sweet ; suffer me therefore to beg for the means of continuing it. " While they were thus parleying together, a Fox passing by was stopped by the Adder, who conjured him to put an end to their controversy.
tremely beneficial :
but now I am grown old, and no longer in a condition to serve him as formerly I did, he has put me in this pasture to fat me, with a design to sell me to a butcher, who is to cut my throat, and he and his friends are to eat my flesh : and is not this requiting good with evil? "
PILPAY'S FABLES. 261
The Fox, upon this, desiring to know the subject of their dispute, said the Traveler, " I have done this Adder a signal piece of service, and he would fain persuade me that, for my reward, he ought to do me a mischief. " "If he means to act by you as you men do by others, he speaks nothing but what is true," replied the Fox ; " but, that I may be better able to judge between you, let me understand what service it is that you have done him. "
The Traveler was very glad of this opportunity of speak ing for himself, and recounted the whole affair to him : he told him after what manner he had rescued him out of the flames with that little sack, which he showed him.
" How ! " said the Fox, laughing outright, " would you pre tend to make me believe that so large an Adder as this could get into such a little sack? It is impossible ! " Both the Man and the Adder, on this, assured him of the truth of that part of the story ; but the Fox positively refused to believe it. At length said he, "Words will never convince me of this monstrous improbability ; but if the Adder will go into it again, to con vince me of the truth of what you say, I shall then be able to judge of the rest of this affair. "
" That I will do most willingly," replied the Adder ; and, at the same time, put himself into the sack.
Then said the Fox to the Traveler, "Now you are the mas ter of your enemy's life : and, I believe, you need not be long in resolving what treatment such a monster of ingratitude deserves of you. " With that the Traveler tied up the mouth of the sack, and, with a great stone, never left off beating it till he had pounded the Adder to death ; and, by that means, put an end to his fears and the dispute at once.
" This Fable," pursued the Rat, " informs us that there is no trusting to the fair words of an enemy, for fear of falling into the like misfortunes. " "
"You say very true," replied the Raven, in all this; but what I have to answer to it is that we ought to understand how to distinguish friends from enemies : and, when you have learned that art, you will know I am no terrible or treacherous foe, but a sincere and hearty friend : for I protest to thee, in the most solemn manner, that what I have seen thee do for thy friend the Pigeon and his companions has taken such root in me that I cannot live without an acquaintance with thee ;
262 PILPAY'S FABLES.
and I swear I will not depart from hence till thou hast granted me thy friendship. "
Zirac perceiving, at length, that the Raven really dealt frankly and cordially with him, replied, " I am happy to find that you are sincere in all this ; pardon my fears, and now hear me acknowledge that I think it is an honor for me to wear the title of thy friend ; and, if I have so long withstood thy im portunities, it was only to try thee, and to show thee that I want neither wit nor policy, that thou mayst know hereafter how far I may be able to serve thee. " And so saying, he came forward ; but even now he did not venture fairly out, but stopped at the entrance of his hole. "
" Why dost thou not come boldly forth ?
Raven. " Is it because thou art not yet assured of my affec tion? "
"That is not the reason," answered the Rat; "but I am afraid of thy companions upon the trees. "
demanded the
" Set thy heart at rest for that," replied the Raven ; " they shall respect thee as their friend : for it is a custom among us that, when one of us enters into a league of friendship with a creature of another species, we all esteem and love that creature. " The Rat, upon the faith of these words, came out to the Raven, who caressed him with extraordinary demonstra tions of friendship, swearing to him an inviolable amity, and requesting him to go and live with him near the habitation of a certain neighboring Tortoise, of whom he gave a very noble character.
" Command me henceforward in all things," replied Zirac, " for I have so great an inclination for you, that from hence forward I will forever follow you as your shadow : and, to tell you the truth, this is not the proper place of my residence ; I was only compelled some time since to take sanctuary in this hole, by reason of an accident, of which I would give you the relation, if I thought it might not be offensive to you. "
" My dear friend," replied the Raven, " can you have any such fears ? or rather are you not convinced that I share in all your concerns? But the Tortoise," added he, "whose friend ship is a very considerable acquisition, which you cannot fail of, will be no less glad to hear the recital of your adventures : come, therefore, away with me to her," continued he ; and, at the same time, he took the rat in his bill, and carried him to the Tortoise's dwelling, to whom he related what he had seen
PILPAY'S FABLES. 263
Zirac do. She congratulated the Raven for having acquired so perfect a friend, and caressed the Rat at a very high rate ; who, for his part, was too much a courtier not to testify how sensible he was of all her civilities. After many compliments on all sides, they went all three to walk by the banks of a purl ing rivulet ; and, having made choice of a place somewhat dis tant from the highway, the Raven desired Zirac there to relate his adventures, which he did in the following manner.
Fable IV.
THE ADVENTURES OP ZIRAC.
"I was born," said Zirac, "and lived many years in the city of India called Marout, where I made choice of a place to reside in that seemed to be the habitation of silence itself, that I might live without disturbance. Here I enjoyed long the greatest earthly felicity, and tasted the sweets of a quiet life, in company of some other Rats, honest creatures, of my own humor. There was also in our neighborhood, I must inform you, a certain Dervise, who every day remained idly in his habitation while his companion went a begging. He con stantly, however, ate a part of what the other brought home, and kept the remainder for his supper. But, when he sat down to his second meal, he never found his dish in the same condition that he left it : for while he was in his garden I always filled my belly, and constantly called my companions to partake with me, who were no less mindful of their duty to nature than myself. The Dervise, on this, constantly finding his pittance diminished, flew out at length into a great rage, and looked into his books for some receipt or some engine to apprehend us : but all that availed him nothing, I was still more cunning than he. One unfortunate day, however, one of his friends, who had been a long journey, entered into his cell
to visit him ; and, after they had dined, they fell into a dis course concerning travel. This Dervise, our good purveyor, among other things asked his friend what he had seen that was most rare and curious in his travels. To whom the Traveler began to recount what he had observed most worthy remark ; but, as he was studying to give him a description of the most delightful places through which he had passed, the Dervise still interrupted him from time to time, with the noise
264 PILPAY'S FABLES.
which he made, by clapping his hands one against the other, and stamping with his foot against the ground, to fright us away : for, indeed, we made frequent sallies upon his provision, never regarding his presence nor his company. At length the Traveler, taking it in dudgeon that the Dervise gave so little ear to him, told him, in downright terms, that he did ill to detain him there, to trouble him with telling stories he did not attend to, and make a fool of him.
" ' Heaven forbid ! ' replied the Dervise, altogether sur prised, ' that I should make a fool of a person of your merit : I beg your pardon for interrupting you, but there is in this place a nest of rats that will eat me up to the very ears before they have done ; and there is one above the rest so bold, that he even has the impudence to come and bite me by the toes as I lie asleep, and I know not how to catch the felonious devil. ' The Traveler, on this, was satisfied with the Dervise's excuses ; and replied, ' Certainly there is some mystery in this : this accident brings to my mind a remarkable story, which I will relate to you, provided you will hearken to me with a little better attention. ' "
Fable V.
A HUSBAND AND HIS WIPE.
" One day," continued the Traveler, " as I was on my jour ney, the bad weather constrained me to stop at a town where I had several acquaintances of different ranks ; and, being unable to proceed on my journey for the continuance of the rain, I went to lodge with one of my friends, who received me very civilly. After supper he put me to bed in a chamber that was parted from his own by a very thin wainscot only ; so that, in despite of my ears, I heard all his private conversation with his Wife.
"'To-morrow,' said he, 'I intend to invite the principal burghers of the town to divert my friend who has done me the honor to come and see me. '
" ' You have not sufficient wherewithal to support your fam ily,' answered his Wife, ' and yet you talk of being at great expenses : rather think of sparing that little you have for the good of your children, and let feasting alone. '
" ' This is a man of great religion and piety,' replied the Husband ; ' and I ought to testify my joy on seeing him, and
PILPAY'S FABLES. 265
to give my other friends an opportunity of hearing his pious conversation ; nor be you in care for the small expense that will attend this. The providence of God is very great ; and we ought not to take too much care for to-morrow, lest what befell the Wolf befall us. ' "
Fable VI.
THE HUNTER AND THE WOLF.
" One day," continued the Husband, " a great Hunter, re turning from the chase of a deer, which he had killed, unex pectedly espied a wild boar coming out of a wood, and making directly towards him. ' Very good,' cried the Hunter, ' this beast comes very opportunely ; he will not a little augment my provision. ' With that he bent his bow, and let fly his arrow with so good an aim that he wounded the boar to death. Such, however, are the unforeseen events that attend too covet ous a care for the necessaries of life, that this fair beginning was but a prelude to a very fatal catastrophe. For the beast, feeling himself wounded, ran with so much fury at the Hunter, that he ripped up his belly with his tusks in such a manner that they both fell dead upon the place.
" At the very moment when this happened, there passed by a Wolf, half-famished, who, seeing so much victuals lying upon the ground, was in an ecstasy of joy. ' However,' said he to himself, ' I must not be prodigal of all this good food ; but it behooves me to husband my good fortune, to make my provision hold out the longer. ' Being very hungry, however, he very prudently resolved to fill his belly first, and make his store for the future afterwards. Not willing, however, to waste any part of his treasure, he was for eating his meat, and, if possible, having it too ; he therefore resolved to fill his belly with what was least delicate, and accordingly began with the string of the bow, which was made of gut ; but he had no sooner snapped the string, but the bow, which was highly bent, gave him such a terrible thump upon the breast that he fell stone-dead upon the other bodies.
" ' This Fable,' said the Husband, pursuing his discourse 'instructs us that we ought not to be too greedily covetous. '
"'Nay,' said the Wife, 'if this be the effect of saving, even invite whom you please to-morrow. '
266 PILPAY'S FABLES.
" The company was accordingly invited ; but the next day, as the Wife was getting the dinner ready, and making a sort of sauce with honey, she saw a rat fall into the honey pot, which turned her stomach, and stopped the making of that part of the entertainment. Unwilling, therefore, to make use of the honey, she carried it to the market, and when she parted with it, took pitch in exchange. I was then, by accident, by her, and asked her why she made such a disadvantageous exchange for her honey.
" ' Because,' said she, in my ear, ' it is not worth so much to me as the pitch. ' Then I presently perceived there was some mystery in the affair, which was beyond my comprehension. It is the same with this rat : he would never be so bold, had he not some reason for it which we are ignorant of. The rats," continued he, " in this part of the world, are a cunning, covet ous, and proud generation ; they heap money as much as the misers of our own species ; and when one of them is possessed of a considerable sum, he becomes a prince among them, and has his set of comrades, who would die to serve him, as they live by him ; for he disburses money for their purchases of food, etc. , of one another, and they live his slaves in perfect idleness. And for my part, I am apt to believe that this is the case with this impudent rat ; that he has a number of slaves of his own species at command, to defend and uphold him in his audacious tricks, and that there is money hidden in his hole. "
The Dervise no sooner heard the Traveler talk of money, than he took a hatchet, and so bestirred himself, that having cleft the wall, he soon discovered my treasure, to the value of a thousand deniers in gold, which I had heaped together with great labor and toil. These had long been my whole pleasure ;
I took delight to handle them, and tumble upon them, placing all my happiness in that exercise.
I told them every day ;
But to return to the story. When the gold tumbled out, ' Very good,' said the Traveler ; ' had I not reason to attrib ute the insolence of these rats to some unknown cause ? '
" I leave you to judge in what a desperate condition I was, when I saw my habitation ransacked after this manner. I re solved on this to change my lodging ; but all my companions left me ; so that I had a thorough experience of the truth of the proverb, 'No money, no friend. ' Friends, nowadays, love us no longer than our friendship turns to their advantage. I
PILPAY'S FABLES. 267
have heard among men, that one day a wealthy and a witty man was asked how many friends he had. 'As for friends alamode,' said he, ' I have as many as I have crowns ; but as for real friends, I must stay till I come to be in want, and then I shall know. '
" While I was pondering, however, upon the accident that had befallen me, I saw a rat pass along, who had been hereto fore used to profess himself so much devoted to my service, that you would have thought he could not have lived a moment out of my company. I called to him, and asked him why he shunned me like the rest.
" ' Thinkest thou,' said the ungrateful and impudent villain, ' that we are such fools as to serve thee for nothing ? When thou wast rich, we were thy servants ; but now thou art poor, believe me, we will not be the companions of thy poverty. '
" ' Alas ! thou oughtest not to despise the poor,' said I, 'because they are the beloved of Providence. '
" ' It is very true,' answered he ; ' but not such poor as thou art.
Now, when people saw the King lavishing his gold in this fashion, they naturally thought that sooner or later the royal treasuries must give out, the gold come to an end, and the King — who was evidently a man of his word — die of starvation. But, though months and years passed by, every day, just a quarter of an hour before breakfast time, the servants came out of the palace with baskets and baskets of gold ; and as the crowds dispersed they could see the King sitting down to his
breakfast in the royal banqueting hall, as jolly and fat and hungry as could be.
Now, of course, there was some secret in all this, and this secret I shall now tell you. King Karan had made a compact with a holy and very hungry old faqir, who lived at the top of the hill ; and the compact was this : On condition of King Karan
HINDOO APOLOGUES. 245
allowing himself to be fried and eaten for breakfast every day, the faqir gave him a hundredweight of pure gold.
Of course, had the faqir been an ordinary sort of person, the compact would not have lasted long, for once King Karan had been fried and eaten, there would have been an end of the mat ter. But the faqir was a very remarkable faqir indeed ; and when he had eaten the King, and picked the bones quite clean, he just put them together, said a charm or two, and, hey presto ! there was King Karan as fat and jolly as ever, ready for the next morning's breakfast. In fact, the faqir made no bones at all over the affair, which, it must be confessed, was very con venient both for the breakfast and the breakfast eater. Never theless, it was, of course, not pleasant to be popped alive every morning into a great frying pan of boiling oil ; and for my part, I think King Karan earned his hundredweight of gold handsomely. But after a time he got accustomed to the pro cess, and would go up quite cheerfully to the holy and hungry one's house, where the biggest frying pan was spitting and sputtering over the sacred fire. Then he would just pass the time of day to the faqir, to make sure he was punctual, and step gracefully into his hot oil bath. My goodness! how he sizzled and fizzled ! When he was crisp and brown, the faqir ate him, picked the bones, set them together, sang a charm, and finished the business by bringing out his dirty old ragged coat, which he shook and shook, while the bright golden pieces came tumbling out of the pockets on to the floor.
So that was the way King Karan got his gold, and if you
think it very extraordinary, so do I
!
Now, in the great Mansarobar Lake, where, as of course you
know, all the wild swans live when they leave us, and feed upon seed pearls, there was a great famine. Pearls were so scarce that one pair of swans determined to go out into the world and seek for food. So they flew into King Bikramajit's garden, at Ujjayin. Now, when the gardener saw the beautiful birds, he was delighted, and, hoping to induce them to stay, he threw them grain to eat. But they would not touch nor any other food he offered them so he went to his master, and told him there were pair of swans in the garden who refused to eat anything.
Then King Bikramajit went out, and asked them in birds' language (for, as every one knows, Bikramajit understood both beasts and birds) why was that they ate nothing.
it
;
a
it,
246 HINDOO APOLOGUES.
" We don't eat grain ! " said they, " nor fruit, nor anything but fresh, unpierced pearls ! "
Whereupon King Bikramajit, being very kind-hearted, sent for a basket of pearls ; and every day, when he came into the garden, he fed the swans with his own hand.
But one day, when he was feeding them as usual, one of the pearls happened to be pierced. The dainty swans found it out at once, and coming to the conclusion that King Bikramajit's supply of pearls was running short, they made up their minds to go farther afield. So, despite his entreaties, they spread their broad white wings, and flew up into the blue sky, their outstretched necks pointing straight towards home on the great Mansarobar Lake. Yet they were not ungrateful, for as they flew they sang the praises of Bikramajit.
Now, King Karan was watching his servants bring out the baskets of gold, when the wild swans came flying over his head ; and when he heard them singing, " Glory to Bikramajit ! glory to Bikramajit ! " he said to himself : " Who is this whom even the birds praise ? I let myself be fried and eaten every day, in order that I may be able to give away a"hundredweight of gold in charity, yet no swan sings my song !
So, being jealous, he sent for a bird catcher, who snared the poor swans with lime, and put them in a cage.
Then Karan hung the cage in the palace, and ordered his servants to bring every kind of birds' food; but the" proud swans only curved their white necks in scorn, saying, Glory to Bikramajit ! — he gave us pearls to eat ! "
Then King Karan, determined not to be outdone, sent for pearls ; but still the scornful swans would not touch any thing.
"Why will ye not eat? " quoth King Karan, wrathfully; "am I not as generous as Bikramajit? "
Then the swan's wife answered, and said, " Kings do not imprison the innocent. Kings do not war against women. If Bikramajit were here, he would at any rate let me go ! "
So Karan, not to be outdone in generosity, let the swan's wife go, and she spread her broad white wings and flew south wards to Bikramajit, and told him how her husband lay a prisoner at the court of King Karan.
Of course Bikramajit, who was, as every one knows, the most generous of kings, determined to release the poor captive ; and bidding the swan fly back and rejoin her mate, he put on
HINDOO APOLOGUES. 247
the garb of a servant, and taking the name of Bikru, journeyed northwards till he came to King Karan's kingdom. Then he took service with the King, and helped every day to carry out the baskets of golden pieces. He soon saw there was some secret in King Karan's endless wealth, and never rested until he had found it out. So, one day, hidden close by, he saw King Karan enter the faqir's house and pop into the boiling oil. He saw him frizzle and sizzle, he saw him come out crisp and brown, he saw the hungry and holy faqir pick the bones, and, finally, he saw King Karan, fat and jolly as ever, go down the mountain side with his hundredweight of gold !
Then Bikru knew what to do ! So the very next day he rose very early, and taking a carving knife, he slashed himself all over. Next he took some pepper and salt, spices, pounded pomegranate seeds, and pea flour ; these he mixed together into a beautiful curry stuff, and rubbed himself all over with it — right into the cuts in spite of the smarting. When he thought he was quite ready for cooking, he just went up the hill to the faqir's house, and popped into the frying pan. The faqir was still asleep, but he soon awoke with the sizzling and the fizzling, and said to himself, " Dear me ! how uncommonly nice the King smells this morning ! "
Indeed, so appetizing was the smell, that he could hardly wait until the King was crisp and brown, but then — oh, my goodness ! how he gobbled him up !
You see, he had been eating plain fried so long that a deviled king was quite a change. He picked the bones ever so clean, and it is my belief would have eaten them too, if he had not been afraid of killing the goose that laid the golden eggs.
Then, when it was all over, he put the King together again, and said, with tears in his eyes, " What a breakfast that was, to be sure ! Tell me how you managed to taste so nice, and I'll give you anything you ask. "
Whereupon Bikru told him the way it was done, and prom ised to devil himself every morning, if he might have the old coat in return. " For," said he, " it is not pleasant to be fried ! and I don't see why I should in addition have the trouble of carIrying a hundredweight of gold to the palace every day. Now,
if coat.
keep the coat, I can shake it down there. "
To this the faqir agreed, and off went Bikru with the
248 HINDOO APOLOGUES.
Meanwhile King Karan came toiling up the hill, and was surprised, when he entered the faqirs house, to find the fire out, the frying pan put away, and the faqir himself as holy as ever, but not in the least hungry.
" Why, what is the matter ? " faltered the King.
" Who are you ? " asked the faqir, who, to begin with, was somewhat short-sighted, and in addition felt drowsy after his heavy meal.
" Who ! Why, I'm King Karan, come to be fried ! Don't you want your breakfast ? "
" I've had my breakfast ! " sighed the faqir, regretfully. "You " tasted very nice when you were deviled, I can assure
you ! I never was deviled in life ! " shouted the King ; " my "
must have eaten somebody else ! " " That's just what I was saying to myself !
"you
———
I thought it couldn't be only the spices
returned the
faqir, sleepily ; "
— that " Snore, snore, snore !
" Look here ! " cried King Karan, in a rage, shaking the faqir, " you must eat me too ! "
" Couldn't ! " nodded the holy but satisfied faqir, " really — not another morsel — no, thanks ! "
" Then give me my gold ! " shrieked King Karan ; " you're bound to"do that, for I'm ready to fulfil my part of the contract !
" Sorry I can't oblige, but the devil — I mean the other person — went off with the coat ! " nodded the faqir.
Hearing this, King Karan returned home in despair and ordered the royal treasurer to send him gold ; so that day he ate his breakfast in peace.
And the next day also, by ransacking all the private treasuries, a hundredweight of gold was forthcoming ; so King Karan ate his breakfast as usual, though his heart was gloomy.
But the third day, the royal treasurer arrived with empty hands, and, casting himself on the ground, exclaimed, " May it please your majesty ! there is not any more gold in your majesty's domains ! "
Then King Karan went solemnly to bed, without any break fast, and the crowd, after waiting for hours expecting to see the palace doors open and the servants come out with the baskets of gold, melted away, saying it was a great shame to deceive poor folk in that way !
OGRES OF HINDOO DEMONOLOGY. 249
By dinner time poor King Karan was visibly thinner ; but he was a man of his word, and though the wily Bikru came and tried to persuade him to eat, by saying he could not possibly be blamed, he shook his head, and turned his face to the wall.
Then Bikru, or Bikramajft, took the faqir'g old coat, and, shaking it before the King, said, " Take the money, my friend ; and what is more, if you will set the wild swans you have in that cage at liberty, I will give you the coat into the bargain ! "
So King Karan set the wild swans at liberty; and as the pair of them flew away to the great Mansarobar Lake, they sang as they went, " Glory to Bikramajit ! the generous
Bikramajft ! "
Then King Karan hung his head, and said to himself, " The
swans' song is true ! — Bikram&jft is more generous than I for if I was fried for the sake of a hundredweight of gold and my breakfast, he was deviled in order to set a bird at liberty ! "
;
Those famous Hindu demons, the Rakshas, are the origi nals of all the ogres and giants of our nursery tales. Now the Rakshas were very terrible creatures indeed, and in the minds of many people in India are so still, for they are believed in even now. Their natural form, so the stories say, is that of huge, unshapely giants, like clouds, with hair and beard of the color of the red lightning ; but they can take any form they please, to deceive those whom they wish to devour — for their great delight, like that of the ogres, is to kill all they meet, and to eat the flesh of those whom they kill. Often they appear as hunters, of monstrous size, with tusks instead of teeth, and with horns on their heads, and all kinds of grotesque and frightful weapons and ornaments. They are very strong, and make themselves stronger by various arts of magic ; and they are strongest of all at nightfall, when they are supposed to roam about the jungles, to enter the tombs, and even to make their way into the cities, and carry off their victims.
But the Rakshas are not alone like ogres in their cruelty, but also in their fondness for money, and for precious stones, which they get together in great quantities and conceal in their palaces;
OGRES OF HINDOO DEMONOLOGY. By J. T. BUNCE.
250 OGRES OF HINDOO DEMONOLOGY.
for some of them are kings of their species, and have thousands upon thousands of inferior Rakshas under their command. But while they are so numerous and so powerful, the Rakshas, like all the ogres and giants in Fairyland, are also very stupid, and are easily outwitted by clever people. There are many Hindu stories which are told to show this. I will tell you one of them.
Two little Princesses were badly treated at home, and so they ran away into a great forest, where they found a palace belonging to a Rakshas, who had gone out. So they went into the house and feasted, and swept the rooms, and made every thing neat and tidy. Just as they had done this, the Rakshas and his wife came home, and the two Princesses ran up to the top of the house, and hid themselves on the flat roof. When the Rakshas got indoors he said to his wife : " Somebody has been making everything clean and tidy. Wife, did you do this? " "No," she said; "I don't know who can have done it. " "Some one has been sweeping the courtyard," said the Rakshas ; " wife, did you sweep the courtyard ? " " No," she
I did not do it. " Then the Rakshas walked round
answered ; "
and round several times, with his nose up in the air, saying :
I smell flesh and blood. Where can They went on disputing, till at last the Rakshas gave it up.
" Some one is here now ;
they be ? " " Stuff and nonsense ! " cried the Rakshas' wife. " You smell flesh and blood, indeed ! Why, you have just been killing and eating a hundred thousand people. I should won der if you didn't still smell flesh and blood ! "
" Never mind," he said ; "
I don't know how it is
I am very
—
thirsty : let's come and drink some water. " So they went to
the well, and began letting down jars into it, and drawing them up, and drinking the water. Then the elder of the two Prin cesses, who was very bold and wise, said to her sister, " I will do something that will be very good for us both. " So she ran quickly downstairs, and crept close behind the Rakshas and his wife, as they stood on tiptoe more than half over the side of the well, and catching hold of one of the Rakshas' heels, and one of his wife's, she gave each a little push, and down they both tumbled into the well, and were drowned — the Rakshas and the Rakshas' wife. The Princess then went back to her sister, and said, " I have killed the Rakshas ! " " What, both ? " cried her sister. " Yes, both," she said. " Won't they come back ? " said her sister. " No, never," answered she.
OGRES OF HINDOO DEMONOLOGY. 251
Another story will show you how stupid a Rakshas and how easily he can be outwitted.
Once upon time Blind Man and Deaf Man made an agreement. The Blind Man was to hear for the Deaf Man and the Deaf Man was to see for the Blind Man and so they were to go about on their travels together. One day they went to nautch — that is, a singing and dancing exhibition. The Deaf Man said, " The dancing very good but the music
not worth listening to. " "I do not agree with you," the Blind Man said " think the music very good but the dancing not worth looking at. " So they went away for walk in the jungle. On the way they found donkey, belong ing to dhobee, or washerman, and big chattee, or iron pot, which the washerman used to boil clothes in. " Brother," said the Deaf Man, " here donkey and chattee let us take them with us, they may be useful. " So they took them, and went on. Presently they came to an ants' nest. " Here," said the Deaf Man, " are number of very fine black ants let us take some of them to show our friends. " " Yes," said the Blind Man, "they will do as presents to our friends. " So the Deaf Man took out silver box from his pocket, and put several of the black ants into it. After time terrible storm came on. " Oh dear " cried the Deaf Man, " how dreadful this lightning let us get to some place of shelter. " "I don't see that it's dreadful at all," said the Blind Man, "but the thunder terrible let us get under shelter. "
So they went up to building that looked like temple, and went in, and took the donkey and the big pot and the black ants with them. But was not temple, was the house of
powerful Rakshas, and the Rakshas came home as soon as they had got inside and had fastened the door. Finding that he couldn't get in, he began to make great noise, louder than the thunder, and he beat upon the door with his great fists. Now the Deaf Man looked through chink, and saw him, and was very frightened, for the Rakshas was dreadful to look at. But the Blind Man, as he couldn't see, was very brave and he went to the door and called out, " Who are you and what do you mean by coming here and battering at the door in this way, and at this time of night " " I'm Rakshas," he answered, in a rage " and this my house, and you don't let me in will kill you. " Then the Blind Man called out in reply " Oh
you're
Rakshas, are you Well, you're Rakshas, I'm
?
a
is a
if
;
if
a
is
a a is a
a a
a
a
is
a is a is
is
a
a
;
is a I
a
a ? a
it
it
aa
!
! ;
; ? ;
:;; ;
;
a
! Ia;
is,
252 OGRES OF HINDOO DEMONOLOGY.
Bakshas, and Bakshas is as good as Rakshas. " "What non sense is this ? " cried the monster ; " there is no such creature as a Bakshas. " "Go away," replied the Blind Man; "if you make any further disturbance I'll punish you ; for know that I am Bakshas, and Bakshas is Rakshas' father. " "Heavens and earth ! " cried the Rakshas, " I never heard such an ex traordinary thing in my life. But if you are my father, let me see your face," —for he began to get puzzled and frightened, as the person inside was so very positive.
Now the Blind Man and the Deaf Man didn't quite know what to do ; but at last they opened the door just a little, and poked the donkey's nose out. " Bless me," thought the Rakshas, " what a terribly ugly face my father Bakshas has got. " Then he called out again : " Oh ! father Bakshas, you have a very big fierce face, but people have sometimes very big heads and very little bodies ; let me see you, body and head, before I go away. " Then the Blind Man and the Deaf Man rolled the great iron pot across the floor with a thundering noise ; and the Rakshas, who watched the chink of the door very carefully, said to himself, " He has got a great body as well, so I had better go away. " But he was still doubtful ; so he said, " Be fore I go away let me hear you scream," for all the tribe of the Rakshas scream dreadfully. Then the Blind Man and the Deaf Man took two of the black ants out of the box, and put one into each of the donkey's ears, and the ants bit the donkey, and the donkey began to bray and to bellow as loud as he could ; and then the Rakshas ran away quite frightened.
In the morning the Blind Man and the Deaf Man found that the floor of the house was covered with heaps of gold, and silver, and precious stones ; and they made four great bundles of the treasure, and took one each, and put the other two on the donkey, and off they went. But the Rakshas was waiting some distance off to see what his father Bakshas was like by daylight ; and he was very angry when he saw only a Deaf Man, and a Blind Man, and a big iron pot, and a donkey, all loaded with his gold and silver. So he ran off and fetched six of his friends to help him, and each of the six had hair a yard long, and tusks like an elephant. When the Blind Man and the Deaf Man saw them coming they went and hid the treasure in the bushes, and then they got up into a lofty betel palm and waited — the Deaf Man, because he could see, getting up first, to be furthest out of harm's way. Now the seven Rakshas
OGRES OF HINDOO DEMONOLOGY. 253
were not able to reach them, and so they said, " Let us get on each other's shoulders and pull them down. " So one Rakshas stooped down, and the second got on his shoulders, and the third on his, and the fourth on his, and the fifth on his, and the sixth on his, and the seventh — the one who had invited the others — was just climbing up, when the Deaf Man got frightened and caught hold of the Blind Man's arm, and as he was sitting quite at ease, not knowing that they were so close, the Blind Man was upset, and tumbled down on the neck of the seventh Rakshas. The Blind Man thought he had fallen into the branches of another tree, and stretching out his hands for something to take hold of, he seized the Rakshas' two great ears and pinched them very hard. This frightened the Rak shas, who lost his balance and fell down to the ground, up setting the other six of his friends, the Blind Man all the while pinching harder than ever, and the Deaf Man crying out from the top of the tree — " You're "all right, brother, hold on tight, I'm coming down to help you — though he really didn't
mean to do anything of the kind.
Well, the noise, and the pinching, and all the confusion, so
frightened the six Rakshas that they thought they had had enough of helping their friend, and so they ran away ; and the seventh Rakshas, thinking that because they ran there must be great danger, shook off the Blind Man and ran away too. And then the Deaf Man came down from the tree and embraced the Blind Man, and said, " I could not have done better myself.
" Then the Deaf Man divided the treasure ; one great heap for himself, and one little heap for the Blind Man. But the Blind Man felt his heap and then felt the other, and then, being angry at the cheat, he gave the Deaf Man a box on the ear, so tre mendous that it made the Deaf Man hear. And the Deaf Man, also being angry, gave the other such a blow in the face that it made the Blind Man see. So they became good friends directly, and divided the treasure into equal shares, and went home laughing at the stupid Rakshas.
254 PILPAY'S FABLES.
PILPAY'S FABLES.
[Pilpat: The reputed author of a widely circulated collection of fables, known as the "Fables of Pilpay," which originated from an old Indian collec tion in Sanskrit, entitled " Panchatantra. " It was first translated into Pahlavi about a. d. 550, and subsequently through the Arabic was transmitted to all the peoples of Europe. Versions are found even in the Malay, Mongol, and Afghan languages. ]
how we ought to make choice of friends, and what Advantage may be reaped from their Conversation.
Fable I.
THE RAVEN, THE RAT, AND THE PIGEONS.
Near adjoining to Odorna there was once a most delightful place, which was extremely full of wildfowl, and was therefore much frequented by the sportsmen and fowlers. A Raven one day accidentally espied in this place, at the foot of a tree, on the top of which she had built her nest, a certain Fowler with a net in his hand. The poor Raven was afraid at first, imagin ing it was herself that the Fowler aimed at ; but her fears ceased when she observed the motions of the person, who, after he had spread his net upon the ground, and scattered some corn about it to allure the birds, went and hid himself behind a hedge, where he was no sooner lain down, but a flock of Pigeons threw themselves upon the corn, without hearkening to their chieftain, who would fain have hindered them, telling them that they were not so rashly to abandon themselves to their passions. This prudent leader, who was an old Pigeon called Montivaga, perceiving them so obstinate, had many times a desire to separate himself from them ; but fate, that imperiously controls all living creatures, constrained him to follow the for tune of the rest, so that he alighted upon the ground with his companions. It was not long after this before they all saw themselves under the net, and just ready to fall into the Fowler's hands.
" Well," said Montivaga on this, mournfully to them, " what think you now ; will you believe me another time, if it be pos sible that you may get away from this destruction? I"see," continued he, perceiving how they fluttered to get loose, that
PILPAY'S FABLES. 255
every one of you minds his own safety only, never regarding what becomes of his companions ; and, let me tell you, that this is not only an ungrateful but a foolish way of acting ; we ought to make it our business to help one another, and it may be so charitable an action may save us all : let us all together strive to break the net. " On this they all obeyed Montivaga, and so well bestirred themselves, that they tore the net up from the ground, and carried it up with them into the air. The Fowler, on this, vexed to lose so fair a prey, followed the Pigeons, in hopes that the weight of the net would tire them.
In the mean time the Raven, observing all this, said to her self, " This is a very pleasant adventure, I am resolved to see the issue of it ; " and accordingly she took wing and followed them. Montivaga observing that the Fowler was resolved to pursue them, "This man," said he to his companions, "will never give over pursuing us till he has lost sight of us ; there fore, to prevent our destruction, let us bend our flight to some thick wood or some ruined castle, to the end that, when we are protected by some forest or thick wall, despair may force him to retire. " This expedient had the desired success ; for, having secured themselves among the boughs of a thick forest, where the Fowler lost sight of them, he returned home, full sorely afflicted for the loss of his game and his net to boot.
As for the Raven, she followed them still, out of curiosity to know how they got out of the net, that she might make use of the same secret upon the like occasion.
The Pigeons, thus quit of the Fowler, were overjoyed : however, they were still troubled with the entanglements of the net, which they could not get rid of : but Montivaga, who was fertile in inventions, soon found a way for that.
" We must address ourselves," said he, " to some intimate friend, who, setting aside all treacherous and by-ends, will go faithfully to work for our deliverance. I know a Rat," con tinued he, " that lives not far from hence, a faithful friend of mine, whose name is Zirac ; he, I know, will gnaw the net, and set us at liberty. " The Pigeons, who desired nothing more, all entreated to fly to this friend ; and soon after they arrived at the Rat's hole, who came forth upon the fluttering of their wings ; and, astonished and surprised to see Montivaga so entangled in the net, " O ! my dear friend," said he, " how came you in this condition ? "
To whom Montivaga replied, " I desire you, my most faith*
256 PILPAY'S FABLES.
ful friend, first of all to disengage my companions. " But Zirac, more troubled to see his friend bound than for all the rest, would needs pay his respects to him first ; but Montivaga cried out, " I conjure you once more, by our sacred friendship, to set my companions at liberty before me ; for that besides being their chieftain I ought to take care for them in the first place, I am afraid the pains thou wilt take to unbind me will slacken thy good offices to the rest ; whereas the friendship thou hast for me will excite thee to hasten their deliverance, that thou mayest be sooner in a condition to give me my free dom. " The Rat, admiring the solidity of these arguments, applauded Montivaga's generosity, and fell to unloosening the strangers ; which was soon done, and then he performed the same kind office for his friend.
Montivaga, thus at liberty, together with his companions, took his leave of Zirac, returning him a thousand thanks for his kindness. And when they were gone, the Rat returned to his hole.
The Raven, having observed all this, had a great desire to
be acquainted with Zirac.
and called him by his name.
voice, asked who he was.
is a Raven who has some business of importance to impart to thee. "
To which end he went to his hole, Zirac, frighted to hear a strange To which the Raven answered, " It
" What business," replied the Rat, " can you and I have together ? We are enemies. " Then the Raven told him, he desired to list himself in the number of a Rat's acquaintance whom he knew to be so sincere a friend.
-'I beseech you," answered Zirac, "find out some other creature, whose friendship agrees better with your disposition. You lose your time in endeavoring to persuade me to such an incompatible reconciliation. "
" Never stand upon incompatibilities," said the Raven, " but do a generous action, by affording an innocent person your friendship and acquaintance, when he desires it at your hands. "
" You may"talk to me of generosity till your lungs ache," replied Zirac, I know your tricks too well : in a word, we are creatures of so different species that we can never be either friends or acquaintance. The example which I remember of the Partridge, that overhastily granted her friendship to a Falcon, is a sufficient warning to make me wiser. "
PILPAY'S FABLES. 257
Fable II.
THE PARTRIDGE AND THE FALCON.
"A Partridge," said Zirac, keeping close in his hole, but very obligingly pursuing his discourse, " was promenading at the foot of a hill, and tuning her throat, in her coarse way, so delightfully, that a Falcon flying that way, and hearing her voice, came towards her, and very civilly was going to ask her acquaintance. ' Nobody,' said he to himself, ' can live without a friend ; and it is the saying of the wise that they who want friends labor under perpetual sickness. ' With these thoughts he would fain have accosted the Partridge ; but she, perceiving him, escaped into a hole, all over in a cold sweat for fear.
" The Falcon followed her, and presenting himself at the entrance of the hole, ' My dear Partridge,' said he, ' I own that I never had hitherto any great kindness for you, because I did not know your merit ; but since my good fortune now has made me acquainted with your merry note, be pleased to give me leave to speak with you, that I may offer you my friend ship, and that I may beg of you to grant me yours. '
" ' Tyrant,' answered the Partridge, ' let me alone, and labor not in vain to reconcile fire and water. '
" ' Most amiable Partridge,' replied the Falcon, ' banish these idle fears, and be convinced that I love you, and desire that we may enter into a familiarity together : had I any other design, I would not trouble myself to court you with such soft language out of your hole. Believe me, I have such good pounces, that I would have seized a dozen other Partridges in the time that I have been courting your affection. I am sure you will have reasons enough to be glad of my friendship ; first, because no other Falcon shall do you any harm while you are under my protection ; secondly, because that being in my nest, you will be honored by the world ; and, lastly, I will procure you a male to keep you company, and give you all the delights of love and a young progeny. '
" It is impossible for me to think that you can have so much kindness for me,' replied the Partridge : ' but, indeed, should this be true, I ought not to accept your proposal ; for you being the prince of birds, and of the greatest strength, and I a poor weak Partridge, whenever I shall do anything that displeases you, you will not fail to tear me to pieces. '
258 PILPAY'S FABLES.
" ' No, no,' said the Falcon, ' set your heart at rest for that ; the faults that friends commit are easily pardoned. ' Much other discourse of this kind passed between them, and many doubts were started and answered satisfactorily, so that at length the Falcon testified such an extraordinary friendship for the Partridge, that she could no longer refuse to come out of her hole. And no sooner was she come forth, than the Fal con tenderly embraced her, and carried her to his nest, where for two or three days he made it his whole business to divert her. The Partridge, overjoyed to see herself so caressed, gave her tongue more liberty than she had done before, and talked much of the cruelty and savage temper of the birds of prey. This began to offend the Falcon ; though for the present he dissembled it. One day, however, he unfortunately fell ill, which hindered him from going abroad in search of prey, so that he grew hungry ; and wanting victuals, he soon became melancholy, morose, and churlish. His being out of humor quickly alarmed the Partridge, who kept herself, very prudently, close in a corner, with a very modest countenance. But the Falcon, soon after, no longer able to endure the importunities of his stomach, resolved to pick a quarrel with the poor Par tridge. To which purpose, 'It is not proper,' said he, 'that you should lie lurking there in the shade, while all the world is exposed to the heat of the sun. '
" The Partridge, trembling every joint of her, replied, ' King of birds, it is now night, and all the world is in the shade as well as I, nor do I know what sun you mean. ' ' Insolent bag gage,' replied the Falcon, ' then you will make me either a liar or mad : ' and so saying, he fell upon her, and tore her to pieces.
" Do not believe," pursued the Rat, " that upon the faith of your promises, I will lay myself at your mercy. "
" Recollect yourself," answered the Raven, " and consider that it is not worth my while to fool my stomach with such a diminutive body as thine ; it is therefore with no such intent I am talking with thee, but I know thy friendship may be bene ficial to me ; scruple not, therefore, to grant me this favor. "
" The sages of old," replied the Rat, " admonish us to take care of being deluded by the fair words of our enemies, as was a certain unfortunate Man, whose story, if you please, I will relate to you. "
PILPAY'S FABLES. 259
Fable III.
THE MAN AND THE ADDER.
A Man mounted upon a Camel once rode into a thicket, and went to rest himself in that part of it from whence a caravan was just departed, and where the people having left a fire, some sparks of it, being driven by the wind, had set a bush, wherein lay an Adder, all in a flame. The fire environed the Adder in such a manner that he knew not how to escape, and was just giving himself over to destruction, when he perceived the Man already mentioned, and with a thousand mournful conjurations begged of him to save his life. The Man, on this, being natu rally compassionate, said to himself, " It is true these creatures are enemies to mankind ; however, good actions are of great value, even of the very greatest when done to our enemies ; and whoever sows the seed of good works, shall reap the fruit of blessings. " After he had made this reflection, he took a sack, and tying it to the end of his lance, reached it over the flame to the Adder, who flung himself into it ; and when he was safe in, the traveler pulled back the bag, and gave the Adder leave to come forth, telling him he might go about his business ; but hoped he would have the gratitude to make him a promise, never to do any more harm to men, since a man had done him so great a piece of service. "
To this the ungrateful creature answered,
take both yourself and me : think not that I intend to be gone so calmly ; no, my design is first to leave thee a parting bless ing, and throw my venom upon thee and thy Camel. "
" Monster of ingratitude ! " replied the Traveler, " desist a moment at least, and tell me whether it be lawful to recompense good with evil. "
" No," replied the Adder, " it certainly is not ; but in acting in that manner I shall do no more than what yourselves do every day ; that is to say, retaliate good deeds with wicked actions, and requite benefits with ingratitude. "
" You cannot prove this slanderous and wicked aspersion," replied the Traveler : " nay, I will venture to say that if you can show me any one other creature in the world that is of your opinion, I will consent to whatever punishment you think fit to inflict on me for the faults of my fellow-creatures. "
" I agree to this willingly," answered the Adder ; and at
You much mis
260
PILPAY'S FABLES.
the same time spying a Cow, " Let us propound our question," said he, "to this creature before us, and we shall see what answer she will make. " The Man consented ; and so both of them accosting the Cow, the Adder put the question to her, how a good turn was to be requited. "By its contrary," replied the Cow, "if you mean according to the custom of men ; and this I know by sad experience. I belong," said she, "to a man, to whom I have long been several ways ex
I have been used to bring him a calf every year, and to supply his house with milk, butter, and cheese;
On this, the Adder, taking upon him to speak, said to the Man, " What say you now ? are not your own customs a suffi cient warrant for me to treat you as I intend to do ? "
The Traveler, not a little confounded at this ill-timed story, was cunning enough, however, to answer, " This is a particular case only, and give me leave to say, one witness is not sufficient to convict me ; therefore pray let me have another. "
"With all my heart," replied the Adder; "let us address ourselves to this Tree that stands here before us. " The Tree, having heard the subject of their dispute, gave his opinion in the following words : " Among men, benefits are never requited but with ungrateful actions. I protect travelers from the heat of the sun, and yield them fruit to eat, and a delightful liquor to drink ; nevertheless, forgetting the delight and benefit of my shade, they barbarously cut down my branches to make sticks, and handles for hatchets, and saw my body to make planks and rafters. Is not this requiting good with evil ? "
The Adder, on this, looking upon the Traveler, asked if he was satisfied. But he was in such a confusion that he knew not what to answer. However, in hopes to free himself from the danger that threatened him, he said to the Adder, " I desire only one favor more ; let us be judged by the next beast we meet ; give me but that satisfaction, it is all I crave : you know life is sweet ; suffer me therefore to beg for the means of continuing it. " While they were thus parleying together, a Fox passing by was stopped by the Adder, who conjured him to put an end to their controversy.
tremely beneficial :
but now I am grown old, and no longer in a condition to serve him as formerly I did, he has put me in this pasture to fat me, with a design to sell me to a butcher, who is to cut my throat, and he and his friends are to eat my flesh : and is not this requiting good with evil? "
PILPAY'S FABLES. 261
The Fox, upon this, desiring to know the subject of their dispute, said the Traveler, " I have done this Adder a signal piece of service, and he would fain persuade me that, for my reward, he ought to do me a mischief. " "If he means to act by you as you men do by others, he speaks nothing but what is true," replied the Fox ; " but, that I may be better able to judge between you, let me understand what service it is that you have done him. "
The Traveler was very glad of this opportunity of speak ing for himself, and recounted the whole affair to him : he told him after what manner he had rescued him out of the flames with that little sack, which he showed him.
" How ! " said the Fox, laughing outright, " would you pre tend to make me believe that so large an Adder as this could get into such a little sack? It is impossible ! " Both the Man and the Adder, on this, assured him of the truth of that part of the story ; but the Fox positively refused to believe it. At length said he, "Words will never convince me of this monstrous improbability ; but if the Adder will go into it again, to con vince me of the truth of what you say, I shall then be able to judge of the rest of this affair. "
" That I will do most willingly," replied the Adder ; and, at the same time, put himself into the sack.
Then said the Fox to the Traveler, "Now you are the mas ter of your enemy's life : and, I believe, you need not be long in resolving what treatment such a monster of ingratitude deserves of you. " With that the Traveler tied up the mouth of the sack, and, with a great stone, never left off beating it till he had pounded the Adder to death ; and, by that means, put an end to his fears and the dispute at once.
" This Fable," pursued the Rat, " informs us that there is no trusting to the fair words of an enemy, for fear of falling into the like misfortunes. " "
"You say very true," replied the Raven, in all this; but what I have to answer to it is that we ought to understand how to distinguish friends from enemies : and, when you have learned that art, you will know I am no terrible or treacherous foe, but a sincere and hearty friend : for I protest to thee, in the most solemn manner, that what I have seen thee do for thy friend the Pigeon and his companions has taken such root in me that I cannot live without an acquaintance with thee ;
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and I swear I will not depart from hence till thou hast granted me thy friendship. "
Zirac perceiving, at length, that the Raven really dealt frankly and cordially with him, replied, " I am happy to find that you are sincere in all this ; pardon my fears, and now hear me acknowledge that I think it is an honor for me to wear the title of thy friend ; and, if I have so long withstood thy im portunities, it was only to try thee, and to show thee that I want neither wit nor policy, that thou mayst know hereafter how far I may be able to serve thee. " And so saying, he came forward ; but even now he did not venture fairly out, but stopped at the entrance of his hole. "
" Why dost thou not come boldly forth ?
Raven. " Is it because thou art not yet assured of my affec tion? "
"That is not the reason," answered the Rat; "but I am afraid of thy companions upon the trees. "
demanded the
" Set thy heart at rest for that," replied the Raven ; " they shall respect thee as their friend : for it is a custom among us that, when one of us enters into a league of friendship with a creature of another species, we all esteem and love that creature. " The Rat, upon the faith of these words, came out to the Raven, who caressed him with extraordinary demonstra tions of friendship, swearing to him an inviolable amity, and requesting him to go and live with him near the habitation of a certain neighboring Tortoise, of whom he gave a very noble character.
" Command me henceforward in all things," replied Zirac, " for I have so great an inclination for you, that from hence forward I will forever follow you as your shadow : and, to tell you the truth, this is not the proper place of my residence ; I was only compelled some time since to take sanctuary in this hole, by reason of an accident, of which I would give you the relation, if I thought it might not be offensive to you. "
" My dear friend," replied the Raven, " can you have any such fears ? or rather are you not convinced that I share in all your concerns? But the Tortoise," added he, "whose friend ship is a very considerable acquisition, which you cannot fail of, will be no less glad to hear the recital of your adventures : come, therefore, away with me to her," continued he ; and, at the same time, he took the rat in his bill, and carried him to the Tortoise's dwelling, to whom he related what he had seen
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Zirac do. She congratulated the Raven for having acquired so perfect a friend, and caressed the Rat at a very high rate ; who, for his part, was too much a courtier not to testify how sensible he was of all her civilities. After many compliments on all sides, they went all three to walk by the banks of a purl ing rivulet ; and, having made choice of a place somewhat dis tant from the highway, the Raven desired Zirac there to relate his adventures, which he did in the following manner.
Fable IV.
THE ADVENTURES OP ZIRAC.
"I was born," said Zirac, "and lived many years in the city of India called Marout, where I made choice of a place to reside in that seemed to be the habitation of silence itself, that I might live without disturbance. Here I enjoyed long the greatest earthly felicity, and tasted the sweets of a quiet life, in company of some other Rats, honest creatures, of my own humor. There was also in our neighborhood, I must inform you, a certain Dervise, who every day remained idly in his habitation while his companion went a begging. He con stantly, however, ate a part of what the other brought home, and kept the remainder for his supper. But, when he sat down to his second meal, he never found his dish in the same condition that he left it : for while he was in his garden I always filled my belly, and constantly called my companions to partake with me, who were no less mindful of their duty to nature than myself. The Dervise, on this, constantly finding his pittance diminished, flew out at length into a great rage, and looked into his books for some receipt or some engine to apprehend us : but all that availed him nothing, I was still more cunning than he. One unfortunate day, however, one of his friends, who had been a long journey, entered into his cell
to visit him ; and, after they had dined, they fell into a dis course concerning travel. This Dervise, our good purveyor, among other things asked his friend what he had seen that was most rare and curious in his travels. To whom the Traveler began to recount what he had observed most worthy remark ; but, as he was studying to give him a description of the most delightful places through which he had passed, the Dervise still interrupted him from time to time, with the noise
264 PILPAY'S FABLES.
which he made, by clapping his hands one against the other, and stamping with his foot against the ground, to fright us away : for, indeed, we made frequent sallies upon his provision, never regarding his presence nor his company. At length the Traveler, taking it in dudgeon that the Dervise gave so little ear to him, told him, in downright terms, that he did ill to detain him there, to trouble him with telling stories he did not attend to, and make a fool of him.
" ' Heaven forbid ! ' replied the Dervise, altogether sur prised, ' that I should make a fool of a person of your merit : I beg your pardon for interrupting you, but there is in this place a nest of rats that will eat me up to the very ears before they have done ; and there is one above the rest so bold, that he even has the impudence to come and bite me by the toes as I lie asleep, and I know not how to catch the felonious devil. ' The Traveler, on this, was satisfied with the Dervise's excuses ; and replied, ' Certainly there is some mystery in this : this accident brings to my mind a remarkable story, which I will relate to you, provided you will hearken to me with a little better attention. ' "
Fable V.
A HUSBAND AND HIS WIPE.
" One day," continued the Traveler, " as I was on my jour ney, the bad weather constrained me to stop at a town where I had several acquaintances of different ranks ; and, being unable to proceed on my journey for the continuance of the rain, I went to lodge with one of my friends, who received me very civilly. After supper he put me to bed in a chamber that was parted from his own by a very thin wainscot only ; so that, in despite of my ears, I heard all his private conversation with his Wife.
"'To-morrow,' said he, 'I intend to invite the principal burghers of the town to divert my friend who has done me the honor to come and see me. '
" ' You have not sufficient wherewithal to support your fam ily,' answered his Wife, ' and yet you talk of being at great expenses : rather think of sparing that little you have for the good of your children, and let feasting alone. '
" ' This is a man of great religion and piety,' replied the Husband ; ' and I ought to testify my joy on seeing him, and
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to give my other friends an opportunity of hearing his pious conversation ; nor be you in care for the small expense that will attend this. The providence of God is very great ; and we ought not to take too much care for to-morrow, lest what befell the Wolf befall us. ' "
Fable VI.
THE HUNTER AND THE WOLF.
" One day," continued the Husband, " a great Hunter, re turning from the chase of a deer, which he had killed, unex pectedly espied a wild boar coming out of a wood, and making directly towards him. ' Very good,' cried the Hunter, ' this beast comes very opportunely ; he will not a little augment my provision. ' With that he bent his bow, and let fly his arrow with so good an aim that he wounded the boar to death. Such, however, are the unforeseen events that attend too covet ous a care for the necessaries of life, that this fair beginning was but a prelude to a very fatal catastrophe. For the beast, feeling himself wounded, ran with so much fury at the Hunter, that he ripped up his belly with his tusks in such a manner that they both fell dead upon the place.
" At the very moment when this happened, there passed by a Wolf, half-famished, who, seeing so much victuals lying upon the ground, was in an ecstasy of joy. ' However,' said he to himself, ' I must not be prodigal of all this good food ; but it behooves me to husband my good fortune, to make my provision hold out the longer. ' Being very hungry, however, he very prudently resolved to fill his belly first, and make his store for the future afterwards. Not willing, however, to waste any part of his treasure, he was for eating his meat, and, if possible, having it too ; he therefore resolved to fill his belly with what was least delicate, and accordingly began with the string of the bow, which was made of gut ; but he had no sooner snapped the string, but the bow, which was highly bent, gave him such a terrible thump upon the breast that he fell stone-dead upon the other bodies.
" ' This Fable,' said the Husband, pursuing his discourse 'instructs us that we ought not to be too greedily covetous. '
"'Nay,' said the Wife, 'if this be the effect of saving, even invite whom you please to-morrow. '
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" The company was accordingly invited ; but the next day, as the Wife was getting the dinner ready, and making a sort of sauce with honey, she saw a rat fall into the honey pot, which turned her stomach, and stopped the making of that part of the entertainment. Unwilling, therefore, to make use of the honey, she carried it to the market, and when she parted with it, took pitch in exchange. I was then, by accident, by her, and asked her why she made such a disadvantageous exchange for her honey.
" ' Because,' said she, in my ear, ' it is not worth so much to me as the pitch. ' Then I presently perceived there was some mystery in the affair, which was beyond my comprehension. It is the same with this rat : he would never be so bold, had he not some reason for it which we are ignorant of. The rats," continued he, " in this part of the world, are a cunning, covet ous, and proud generation ; they heap money as much as the misers of our own species ; and when one of them is possessed of a considerable sum, he becomes a prince among them, and has his set of comrades, who would die to serve him, as they live by him ; for he disburses money for their purchases of food, etc. , of one another, and they live his slaves in perfect idleness. And for my part, I am apt to believe that this is the case with this impudent rat ; that he has a number of slaves of his own species at command, to defend and uphold him in his audacious tricks, and that there is money hidden in his hole. "
The Dervise no sooner heard the Traveler talk of money, than he took a hatchet, and so bestirred himself, that having cleft the wall, he soon discovered my treasure, to the value of a thousand deniers in gold, which I had heaped together with great labor and toil. These had long been my whole pleasure ;
I took delight to handle them, and tumble upon them, placing all my happiness in that exercise.
I told them every day ;
But to return to the story. When the gold tumbled out, ' Very good,' said the Traveler ; ' had I not reason to attrib ute the insolence of these rats to some unknown cause ? '
" I leave you to judge in what a desperate condition I was, when I saw my habitation ransacked after this manner. I re solved on this to change my lodging ; but all my companions left me ; so that I had a thorough experience of the truth of the proverb, 'No money, no friend. ' Friends, nowadays, love us no longer than our friendship turns to their advantage. I
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have heard among men, that one day a wealthy and a witty man was asked how many friends he had. 'As for friends alamode,' said he, ' I have as many as I have crowns ; but as for real friends, I must stay till I come to be in want, and then I shall know. '
" While I was pondering, however, upon the accident that had befallen me, I saw a rat pass along, who had been hereto fore used to profess himself so much devoted to my service, that you would have thought he could not have lived a moment out of my company. I called to him, and asked him why he shunned me like the rest.
" ' Thinkest thou,' said the ungrateful and impudent villain, ' that we are such fools as to serve thee for nothing ? When thou wast rich, we were thy servants ; but now thou art poor, believe me, we will not be the companions of thy poverty. '
" ' Alas ! thou oughtest not to despise the poor,' said I, 'because they are the beloved of Providence. '
" ' It is very true,' answered he ; ' but not such poor as thou art.
