Produced by Michael Gray




EAST INDIAN FAIRY TALES



ALTEMUS' FAIRY TALES SERIES


THE MAGIC BED
A Book of East Indian
Fairy-Tales


EDITED with an INTRODUCTION
By HARTWELL JAMES
WITH FORTY ILLUSTRATIONS
By JOHN R. NEILL



PHILADELPHIA
HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY



Altemus'
Illustrated
Fairy Tales Series
---
---
The Magic Bed
     A Book of East Indian Tales
The Cat and the Mouse
     A Book of Persian Tales
The Jeweled Sea
     A Book of Chinese Tales
The Magic Jaw Bone
     A Book of South Sea Islands Tales
The Man Elephant
     A Book of African Tales
The Enchanted Castle
     A Book of Tales from Flower Land
---
---
Fifty Cents Each
---
---
Copyright, 1906
By Henry Altemus




INTRODUCTION
---
India is undoubtedly the home of the fairy-tale. Of those now in
existence, probably one-third of them came from India. Gypsies,
missionaries, travelers, and traders carried them to other countries
where they were told and retold until much of their original form was
obliterated, and many of their titles lost.

The "Jatakas," or birth-stories of Buddha, form the earliest collection
of fairy-tales in the world, and were gathered together more than two
thousand years before the Brothers Grimm--well and justly beloved of
children--began to write the stories which have delighted a world of
readers, young and old.

It is from these, and from others told by native nurses, or ayahs, to
children in India--where the belief in fairies, gnomes, ogres, and
monsters is still widespread--that five stories most likely to interest
young people have been selected to form this volume. They are stories
which have aroused the wonder and laughter of thousands of children in
the far East, and can hardly fail to produce the same effect upon the
children of America.

                                         H.J.



CONTENTS

The Magic Bed
The Wise Jackal
The Four Brothers
The Fish Prince
The Talking Turtle



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

The Princess Lalun
"A tiger stood roaring"
"Sitting under a tree"
"'Cannot I have supper with you?'"
"Spread it gently over the Princess"
"The Prince told her who he was"
"'The Princess sits on the roof"
"The Rajah sent for the Prince"
"His tigers came in"
"He beat the kettle-drum loudly"
"They came to a beautiful palace"
"'I am going to run away'"
"They found a beautiful marble tank"
"Nala cried out 'Oh, oh!'"
"The Rakshas is on his way home"
"Twined red lotus flowers in her hair"
"'They are my father's flowers'"
"A diamond shining in his forehead"
"The monkeys taught him to climb trees"
"All the animals loved him"
"Four men cutting up a deer"
"Chimo dropped the firebrand"
"'Have you got husbands for us?'"
"Their clothes on their heads"
"'You have broken my enchantment'"
"'The kingdom ought to be mine'"
"Threw some powder on his head"
"He was caught in a net"
"The Queen became fond of him"
"'I will find you a wife at once'"
"'You can take her and welcome'"
"The cobra put out his seven heads"
"'I want to see my wife!'"
"Changed into a handsome prince"
"'Two wild ducks are carrying a turtle!'"
"'Tells the cranes where our hiding-places are'"
"'Where are you going?' he asked"
"Hanging from the stick by his mouth"
"Hazar ran to pick him up"
"A golden turtle was set up in the palace"



THE MAGIC BED



EAST INDIAN FAIRY TALES


The Magic Bed


_The Ant-King extols the beauty of the Princess Lalun, the Tiger gives
the Prince the best of advice, and by the aid of the Magic Bed
wonderful things occur._

ONE very hot day, a young Prince, or Rajah as they are called in India,
had been hunting all the morning in the jungle, and by noon had lost
sight of his attendants. So he sat down under a tree to rest and to eat
some cakes which his mother had given him.

When he broke the first one he found an ant in it. In the second there
were two ants, in the third, three, and so on until in the sixth there
were six ants and the Ant-King himself.

"I think these cakes belong to you more than they do to me," said the
Prince to the Ant-King. "Take them all, for I am going to sleep."

After a while the Ant-King crawled up to the Prince's ear as he lay
there dreaming, and said, "We are much obliged for the cakes and have
eaten them up. What can we do for you in return?"

"I have everything I need," replied the Prince in his sleep. "I cannot
spend all the money I have, I have more jewels than I can wear, and
more servants than I can count, and I am tired of them all."

"You would never be tired of the Princess Lalun," replied the Ant-King.
"You should seek her, for she is as lovely as the morning."

When the young Prince awoke, the ants were all gone; and he was very
sorry for this, because he remembered what the Ant-King had said about
the Princess Lalun.

"The only thing for me to do," he said to himself, "is to find out in
what country this princess lives."

So he rode on through the jungle until sundown, and there beside a pool
a tiger stood roaring.

"Are you hungry?" asked the Prince. "What is the matter?"

"I am not hungry, but I have a thorn in my foot which hurts me very
much," replied the tiger.

Then the Prince jumped off his horse and looked at the tiger's foot.
Then he pulled out the thorn and bound some healing leaves over the
wound with a piece of cloth which he tore off his turban.

Just as he was ready to mount his horse again, a tigress came crashing
through the jungle.

"How nice!" she cried. "Here is a man and we can eat him."

"No, indeed," replied her husband. "He has been very good to me. He has
taken a thorn out of my foot and I am grateful to him. If he wants help
at any time, we must give it to him."

"We would much better eat him," grumbled the tigress, but her husband
growled so in reply that she bounded off into the deep jungle.

Then the Prince asked the tiger if he could tell him the shortest way
to Princess Lalun's country, and the tiger told him it was across three
ranges of hills and through seven jungles.

"But," said the tiger, "there is a fakir or holy beggar in the next
jungle to this, and he has a magic bed which will carry you anywhere
you wish to go. Besides this, he has a bag which will give you whatever
you ask for, and a stone bowl which will fill itself with water as
often as you ask it. If you can get these things you certainly can find
the Princess Lalun."

Then the Prince was very much pleased and set out to find the fakir. He
found him sitting under a tree on the edge of the jungle, his bed on
one side of him and the bag and bowl on the other side.

The fakir sat very still for a long time when he heard what the Prince
wanted, and then he asked, "Why do you seek the Princess Lalun?"

"Because I want to marry her," replied the Prince very earnestly.

"Look into my eyes while I hold your hands," said the fakir, and as the
Prince did so, he saw that he was one who could be trusted.

Then the fakir agreed to lend him the things and to take care of his
horse until the Prince came back.

"Now lie down on the bed and wish yourself in the Princess Lalun's
country," said the fakir, and, taking the bag and the stone bowl in his
hands, the Prince stretched himself on the bed.

Then the Prince said, "Take me to Princess Lalun's country," and no
sooner had he spoken, than off he went, over the seven jungles and over
the three ranges of hills, and in less than a minute he was set down
within the borders of the kingdom where the Princess Lalun lived.

The name of the Princess's father was Afzal, and he was the king or
Rajah of that country. So many princes had sought his daughter in
marriage that he was tired of saying "No" to them. Then he tried the
plan of giving them impossible tasks to do and so getting rid of them
in that way, but still they kept coming, and at last Rajah Afzal
concluded to keep foreigners out of his kingdom altogether. So he
issued an edict that no one was to give a night's lodging to a
stranger.

So when the Prince came to an old woman's cottage and asked if he might
spend the night there, she told him that the Rajah would not allow it.

"Cannot I bring my bed into your garden and sleep there?" he asked.
"And cannot I have supper with you?"

"I have nothing for supper but rice," said the old woman, shaking her
head. But the Prince pleaded so hard to let him come in that she
consented, and he put his bag on her table.

Then he spoke to the bag. "Bag, I want something to eat!" and all at
once the bag opened and there was a fine supper for two people. So the
old woman ate with, the Prince. The food was delicious and was served
on gold plates with gold spoons.

When they were done eating, the old woman said she would go to the well
for some water.

"You need not do that," said the Prince, and then he tapped the bowl
with his finger. "Bowl!" he cried, "I want water!" At once the bowl
filled with water and the old woman washed the gold plates and spoons.

"If you will let me stay with you a little while," said the Prince,
"you may have the plates and spoons for your own." Then he ordered the
bowl to fill with water again and washed his hands in it.

Then the Prince said, "My bowl gives me all the water I want, and my
bag gives me everything else I ask for. They belong to a holy fakir,
and he might be angry if you turned his things out of the house
to-night."

The old woman sat very quiet for a long time and then she said, "The
anger of a Rajah is something to be dreaded, but that of a fakir might
be far worse."

"Did you count them?" asked the Prince. "There are twelve gold plates
and twelve gold spoons." The old woman nodded, and put them away under
her bed. "You may stay," she said, "but be careful that the Rajah's
soldiers do not catch you."

By this time it was night and the Prince and the old woman sat in
darkness, for there was no lamp in the house. "The Rajah does not allow
lamps to be used," she said. "His daughter, the Princess Lalun, sits on
the roof of her palace at night and shines so that she lights up the
whole country."

Just then a beautiful silver radiance filled the room, and when the
Prince stepped outside he saw that the Princess was sitting on the roof
of her palace. Her saree or dress was of silver gauze, and her dark
hair floated almost to her feet.

She wore a band of diamonds and pearls across her head, and the light
that came from her was as beautiful as that of the sun and the moon and
the stars together.

"The Ant-Rajah was right," said the Prince. "Her beauty turns darkness
into light, and night into day. I should never be weary of the Princess
Lalun."

At midnight the Princess came down from her roof and went to her room.
Then the Prince sat down on his bed with his bag in his hand. "Bed,"
said he, "take me to the Princess's palace!" So the bed took him where
she lay fast asleep. Then he shook the bag. "Bag," he said, "I want a
lovely shawl, embroidered in red and blue and gold!" The bag gave it to
him and he spread it gently over the Princess. Then the bed carried him
back to the old woman's cottage.

The bag gave the Prince and the old woman breakfast and dinner and
supper the next day, and when night came the Princess again sat on the
roof. This time her saree was of white silk covered with diamond
butterflies, and she shone more gloriously than before.

At midnight the Princess went to her room again, and then the Prince
told his bed to take him again to the palace. He said to his bag, "Bag,
I want a very beautiful ring!" The bag gave him a ring set with rubies,
which he slipped on the Princess's hand as she lay asleep, and then
when she woke the Prince told her who he was.

When the Princess saw what a noble, handsome young man he was, and
heard that he was the son of a great Rajah, and that he was the one who
had brought her the magnificent shawl the night before, she fell in
love with him and said she would tell her father and mother that she
wanted him for her husband. Then the Prince went back to the old
woman's cottage.

The Rajah Afzal, Princess Lalun's father, sent for the Prince the next
day, and told him he might marry the Princess because she wished it.

"But first," said he, "you must do this for me. Here are eighty pounds
of mustard-seed, and you must crush the oil out of them in one day."

"It is impossible," said the Prince as he went away from the palace.
"How can I do it?" And when the old woman heard of it she said, "It is
quite impossible. Only an army of ants could do it."

Then the Prince thought of the Ant-Rajah, and at the very minute he
thought of him, the Ant-Rajah and all his ants crept under the door and
into the room.

"If I do not crush all the oil out of this mustard-seed before
to-morrow morning, I cannot marry the Princess Lalun," the Prince said,
showing the bag to the Ant-Rajah.

"We will attend to it for you," replied the Ant-Rajah. "Go to sleep and
leave it to us." When the Prince awoke in the-morning there was not a
drop of oil left in the mustard-seed, and with a light heart he took it
to the King.

"That is very good, indeed," said Rajah Afzal, "but I have something
else for you to do. One day when I was out in the hills I caught two
demons, and I have them here shut up in a cage. I want them killed,
because they may break out some day and harm my people. You may marry
the Princess Lalun if you can kill them."

"How can I fight two demons?" the Prince asked the old woman when he
was back in her cottage.

"Only a couple of tigers could do it," replied the old woman; and as
soon as the Prince remembered his tigers they came in at the door.

"Take us to the King," said the tiger.

When the Prince asked the Rajah if the tigers might fight the two
demons, he said they might do so, for he was very anxious to get rid of
the demons. So all the court went to see the fight, and the tigers
killed the demons.

But when the Prince said, "Now you will give me your daughter," Rajah
Afzal replied, "There is only one thing more. If you can beat my
kettledrum you shall marry the Princess Lalun."

"Where is your drum?" asked the Prince.

"Up there in the sky," replied the Rajah.

"I don't know how I can get up into the sky," sighed the Prince. "This
is the hardest task of all." So he went back to the cottage and said to
the old woman, "My ants crushed his oil, my tigers killed his demons,
but who is to get up into the sky and beat his kettle-drum?"

"You are rather stupid," said the old woman. "If your bed carried you
across seven jungles and over three ranges of hills, don't you think it
can take you up into the sky?"

"It is very singular I never thought of that," cried the Prince, and
then he sat down upon his little bed. Up into the sky it flew, where he
beat the kettle-drum so loudly with the handle of his hunting-knife
that the King heard him.

"The wedding shall take place as soon as you like," said the Rajah when
the Prince came down again; and so the Prince sent the bed and the bowl
and the bag back to the fakir.

Then invitations to the wedding were sent to all the kings and queens
of the neighboring countries; and after they were married the Prince
took the Princess Lalun home to his own country.



THE WISE JACKAL



EAST INDIAN FAIRY TALES


The Wise Jackal


_Showing how the Rajah's daughters ran away from home, how they got
into trouble in consequence, and how the jackal helped them._

ONCE there were two princesses whose father, the Rajah, was too busy
with affairs of state to look after them. They were lonely and
neglected, for they had a stepmother who treated them very cruelly.
They lived in a beautiful palace, but nothing was done to make them
happy or contented, for even the servants were afraid of the Rajah's
second wife.

"I am going to run away," said the elder princess to her sister. "Will
you go with me, Dehra!"

"Where can we go?" replied Dehra.

"There are a great many places where we can go," said Nala, "but first
we will go into the jungle. We will make a little house of tree
branches and have beds of grass and flowers and there will be plenty of
fruit to eat."

"I will put on my blue silk saree," said Dehra, "and my pearl necklace,
and you must wear your yellow silk and your rubies, and then if we meet
any one they will know we are princesses."

"If we wear our jewels people may steal us," replied Nala. "We would
better tie them in a corner of our sarees. We will wear our bangles,
though, for all girls wear them."

The sarees that the princesses wore were long lengths of silk which
they wound about their waists and then brought over their heads. They
were not at all like the dresses American girls wear, but they were of
beautiful material and Nala and Dehra looked very fine in them.

So the little princesses went a long way into the jungle, where they
found all the fruit they wished to eat, and were happier than they had
been for a long time, watching the green parrots flash in and out
between the trees and the monkeys chattering as they swung from bough
to bough.

After a while they came to a beautiful white marble palace with a great
gateway standing wide open, and over it was written in golden letters:

  _"Enter, Nala, do not fear;
  Silver and gold await you here."_

But the words changed as soon as they had read them into these:

  _"Follow her, Dehra; you shall see
  How kind and cruel Fate can be."_

The sisters looked at each other, and then Dehra said, "I do not think
mine is as nice a verse as yours, Nala. It makes me feel shivery."

"It frightens me a little, too," replied Nala. "I wonder if this palace
belongs to a Rakshas."

Now a Rakshas is a kind of ogre, and no one but a Rakshas would have
built such a beautiful palace in the middle of a jungle.

"If it does, he may come back at any time and eat us up," said Dehra,
more alarmed than ever. "Let us go away."

"The Rakshas has gone away," said a little jackal with a friendly face,
who came running up to the princesses, "and you can stay in his palace
for quite a while. I will let you know when he is coming back."

So the princesses went through the great gateway and across the
courtyard into the palace, where they found gold and jewels and lovely
silk dresses, and a beautiful marble tank filled with the clearest of
water, where they could bathe every day.

Red lotus leaves floated on the water, and the sisters twined some of
them in their hair, for the red lotus is a royal flower and princesses
may wear them.

"If any stranger comes here," said Nala, "and asks for food or a drink
of water, when you are alone in the house, be sure to smear your face
with charcoal and put on some ragged clothes to make yourself look ugly
before you let them in."

"Why must I do this?" asked Dehra.

"Because if they see how pretty you are they will take you away and we
shall not see each other any more."

"You must do the same then," said Dehra, "for you are prettier than I,"
and then the princesses looked over the edge of the tank at their
reflections in the water. Both were lovely, but Nala was a little
taller than her sister and a little more graceful. Both had beautiful
complexions, with teeth like pearls and eyes that shone like stars.

One day while Dehra was in the jungle talking to their friend the
jackal, a prince who had been out hunting came to the palace and asked
for water, as he and his attendants were very hot and thirsty. But
before Nala went to see what they wanted she covered her silk dress
with a ragged one and made her face dirty with charcoal.

When the Prince's attendants saw a dirty-faced, ragged girl admit them
to such a beautiful palace, they laughed outright, but the Prince said
to himself, "If her face and hands were clean and her clothes mended,
she would be a very pretty girl."

Neither Nala nor the Prince could understand each other, but at last
she made out that he was thirsty, so she hastened to bring him a
pitcher of water. But instead of drinking the water, the Prince threw a
part of it over Nala's head and face!

Very much surprised, Nala cried out, "Oh, oh!" and started back, but
the charcoal was washed from her face, and there she stood, the
loveliest maiden the Prince had ever seen, even in her ragged dress,
and he fell in love with her at once.

He unfastened the ragged dress and it fell off, leaving her prettier
than ever in her yellow saree and a string of great rubies around her
neck.

"My father is a Rajah," said the Prince, "and I am going to take you to
his palace, and you shall be my wife."

Then a beautiful palanquin was brought and Nala was carefully placed in
it and carried away from the Rakshas' palace. On they went through the
jungle, and the frightened Princess could only pull aside the curtains
and look out upon the Prince riding ahead on his white horse, while the
monkeys swung from the boughs and the parrots darted in and out among
the branches as they had done on the day when she and her sister had
run away from their cruel stepmother.

She was very unhappy and sobbed out, "Oh, Dehra, Dehra! I want you, and
what will you do without me?"

And then Nala began to think how she should let her sister know the way
the Prince had taken her, so she tore a little piece off her saree and
wrapped one of her rubies in it and dropped it on the ground.

She kept on doing this every little while until only one ruby was left,
but they had now come to the palace of the Rajah and Ranee, the
Prince's father and mother.

"Follow her, Dehra," she remembered the golden letters had said, and so
Nala dropped the last of her rubies just outside the palace, saying to
herself, "If Dehra does follow me, the rubies will lead her to me."

The Prince's father and mother welcomed the beautiful Princess very
gladly. The Rajah gave her a new ruby necklace and the Ranee was
delighted at the prospect of such a beautiful daughter-in-law. In a
week they were married and every one was very kind to Nala.

But poor Dehra sat in the Rakshas' palace crying as if her heart would
break. "Nala, Nala! where are you?" she cried over and over again, but
no one answered her.

Then she went out of the palace, past the tank where the red lotus
flowers lay on the clear water, saying to herself, "Some one has stolen
her."

Then she looked at the golden letters over the gate.

  _"Follow her, Dehra; you shall see
  How kind and cruel Fate can be."_

"Half of it is surely true," she said aloud, and suddenly, from behind
her, the jackal asked, "Which half is true?"

"Fate has not been kind yet, so it must be the last part," sobbed
Dehra.

"I think that is very ungrateful of you," said the jackal. "Here you
have been living comfortably in a beautiful palace for some time. I am
not sure that it is nice of you to complain that you have had no luck
at all."

Dehra began to cry.

"But that is not what I came to tell you," the jackal added. "The
Rakshas is on his way home and you will have to go away."

He was a very wise jackal, so he went on. "It is sure to come out all
right, and I will help you to find your sister."

So they went, right away, into the jungle, and pretty soon the jackal's
sharp eyes saw the first ruby, wrapped in its yellow silk, lying on the
grass. And soon after that they found another, and then another, and by
and by they came out of the jungle.

"I shall have to leave you here," said the jackal. "There are towns out
here in the open country, and where there are towns there are men, and
men do not like jackals."

"But what shall I do?" asked Dehra.

"I will help you to make yourself look like an old woman," replied the
jackal. "You will have to do something of the kind or some one will
carry you off and you will never find your sister."

Then the jackal showed Dehra a plant which she rubbed on her face and
made it an ugly brown, and then he showed her how to make her face look
wrinkled. Then he went to a little house not far away and stole a
coarse red saree which an old woman had hung on a bush to dry after
washing it.

"Where did you get this?" asked Dehra, as the jackal brought it to her
in his mouth; and the jackal told her it was growing on a bush. So
Dehra put it on and went slowly along the road like an old woman.

Every little while she found one of Nala's rubies, and then they would
be a long way apart, but at last she came to the city where Nala was,
and found the last ruby by the gate of the Rajah's palace. Then she sat
down not very far away and wondered how she could get inside the
palace.

As night came on, the wife of a laboring man took pity on the poor old
woman, as she supposed Dehra to be, and let her sleep in a hut in her
garden. Now this garden was very near the palace grounds, in which was
a marble bathing-tank covered with red lotus flowers.

When Dehra saw this beautiful place, she said to herself, "I will bathe
there every morning. I will go very early, so as not to be seen."

So Dehra left her hut very early and bathed in the beautiful tank, and
all the brown stain and all the wrinkles came off her face. She washed
the old saree and hung it on a tree, and then put on her own blue silk
saree and her necklace of pearls. Then she sat on the steps of the tank
and twined some of the red lotus flowers in her hair.

"It makes me feel like myself again," she thought, as she looked down
at her reflection in the water. But the royal lotus flowers made her
think of Nala, and she longed more than ever to see her.

After Dehra had bathed in the palace gardens for several mornings, his
servants told the Rajah that some of his beautiful lotus flowers
disappeared each day before sunrise. This made the Rajah very angry and
he said he would offer a reward for the capture of this thief.

Then the Rajah's second son, who was a very handsome young prince, said
to his father, "You need not do that. I will capture the thief without
any reward."

"He will do it easily," said the Ranee, who was very proud of her son.

So that night the Prince walked about the palace garden for a long
time, but at last he was so sleepy that he lay down near the
bathing-place and did not awake until the sun was just rising.

Leaning against the steps of the marble tank was a lovely girl dressed
in blue silk with a chain of pearls around her neck and red lotus
flowers in her hair.

The Prince jumped up quickly, exclaiming, "You cannot be the thief!"

"I did not mean to be a thief," faltered Dehra.

"They are my father's flowers and you can have more of them if you
wish," said the Prince without taking his eyes off her lovely face.

"Oh, no!" said Dehra, running to get the old red cotton saree. "Please
do not tell any one you have seen me."

"You must have come from Nala's country," replied the Prince, "for you
talk as she does."

The old woman's dress dropped from Dehra's hands.

"Is Nala here, and do you talk to her?" she asked. It had been so long
since she had heard her sister's name spoken that it seemed like
listening to sweet music.

"Indeed, Nala is here," said the Prince. "She is my brother's wife and
we all love her. She is so beautiful that she is called the 'Star of
the Palace,' but you are prettier than she is."

At these words all Dehra's fear left her, and when the Prince said,
"Let us go and find Nala," she let him take her hand and lead her into
the palace, where every one said, "She is exactly like our young
Rajah's wife!"

Then the Prince led Dehra into the presence of the Rajah and Ranee, and
there she told them that she was Nala's sister and how she had come a
long, weary way in search of her. Then the Prince asked permission to
marry Dehra, and his father and mother were so pleased with the
beautiful girl that they said he might do so as soon as he liked.

Then Dehra was taken to a beautiful room, hung with silk curtains and
lighted by jewelled lamps. Nala was dressed in the richest silks and
jewels, as the wife of a young Rajah should be, but there was a look of
sadness on her beautiful face, for she was thinking of the sister from
whom she had been separated so long.

"Oh, Dehra!" she said, as she looked up and saw her sister standing
before her. "Oh, Dehra! Fate has been kind at last." And then the
sisters kissed each other again and again, and when Nala heard that
Dehra was to marry her husband's brother and all live together in the
palace, she could hardly believe that it was true.

Then Dehra said, "The jackal told me that everything would come out
right in the end, and so it has."

"He is a nice jackal," replied Nala. "The golden letters over the
gateway to the Rakshas' palace ought to be changed to:

  _'Seek long, seek far, and you shall find
  To patient seekers Fate is kind'_

and if he were here I would ask him to have it done."



THE FOUR BROTHERS



EAST INDIAN FAIRY TALES


The Four Brothers


_Relating how a baby with a diamond in his forehead grew to be a man,
and what he did for his brothers._

IN the very heart of the jungle there stood a very old tree. It was
older than any other tree there and had seen many wonderful things. It
was very wise, too, and knew many secrets.

Every spring it put out fresh green leaves and lovely white blossoms,
but one year the flowers were more beautiful than ever, and among them,
on one of the lower branches, was a bud which hung there like a silver
globe among the green leaves.

"I wonder why that bud is so much larger than the others," said the
rose-apple tree, who had a great deal of curiosity.

"It holds a secret," replied the fig-tree, who was quite a gossip and
loved to talk to the other trees.

"But when shall we know the secret?" asked the rose-apple tree.

"In the middle of the night there will be a thunder-storm and then the
bud will open. You will see it by the lightning."

But when the storm came and the thunder roared and the lightning
flashed, the rose-apple tree was afraid and dared not look up. But the
fig-tree watched the grand old tree stretch its branches out bravely to
the tempest, and in the midst of it saw the white bud burst open as the
third bough laid it gently on the ground.

Inside the flower lay the prettiest little baby ever seen, curled up as
if asleep, as lovely as a flower himself, and then his eyes opened and
he lay smiling at the sky and watching the blue-white lightning
flashing across it.

Then when morning came and all around was bright and calm and still
once more, the baby put out his tiny hand and played with the flowers.

"He must be a wonderful baby," said the fig-tree. "See his little white
silk shirt; it is just the color of the flower in which he was born,
and look, he has a diamond shining in his forehead!"

"Perhaps it is a star and not a diamond," said the rose-apple tree; but
because of its brightness it could not tell which it was.

Then the humming-birds and the parrots and the monkeys and the jackals
all came to look at the baby. "He would be better off if he had wings
like mine," said a humming-bird.

"Or if he had plumage like mine," said a parrot.

"Fur like mine would be much better for him," added a jackal; but they
all agreed that he was a very wonderful baby, or he would not have a
star in his forehead.

By and by the child cried just a little bit, for he was hungry, but the
fig-tree bent a bough and dropped honey into his mouth, and then he
smiled again.

And then when sunset came a tigress stole quietly up to the child.

"I'll bring my cubs here," she said to herself. "He will do for their
supper." But the flowers and the grasses covered him up so that she
could not find him when she came back again.

"We will not let any harm come to him," said the flowers and the
grasses. "He is our baby."

"What shall we call him?" asked the trees, and the old tree which had
borne the beautiful bud said, "His name is Nazim, and you must all of
you take care of him and teach him the secrets of the jungle."

And so as Nazim grew up, the trees and the wild flowers and all the
creatures in the jungle taught him all they knew. The monkeys taught
him how to climb trees, and Dame, the great turtle who lived in the
river, taught him how to swim.

The humming-birds showed him where the wild fruits grew and which of
the blossoms had honey in their cups; and he learned to know the herbs
which would heal bruises, and how to charm the jungle snakes, and many
other things which children who live in houses never know.

Early every morning he bathed in the river, hanging his white silk
shirt to dry on a tree, and at night he slept in a hammock under the
fig-tree, which the flowers made for him of their twining tendrils.

He became a tall and beautiful boy, as good and gentle as he was strong
and fearless, and as for clothes, his white silk shirt grew as he grew
and never wore out or wanted mending. All the animals in the jungle
loved him, even the tigress who had wanted her cubs to eat him when he
was a baby.

One day Nazim said to the old tree, "There are a great many parrots and
jackals and monkeys. Are there no others like me; is there only one
Nazim?"

And the old tree asked, "Why do you want to know?" And Nazim replied
wistfully, "I should like to see them."

Then the old tree said, "Climb to my topmost branch, and tell me what
you see;" and when Nazim had done this he cried out, "I see a hill with
a very sharp point."

"Near the top of that hill, which is the needle-shaped hill, is a tree
covered with bright pink blossoms. It is called Kidsadita," said the
old tree. "Go up to it and smell the flowers and ask where the Four
Brothers are."

So through the jungle Nazim ran to the needle-shaped hill, and there
was Kidsadita, the pink-flowering tree. "Where are the Four Brothers?"
he asked, as he smelt the blossoms.

"On the other side of the hill," said Kidsadita. "They are preparing
their supper."

Then Nazim went on, around the hill, and there were four tall men
cutting up a deer which they had killed. As he came near they thought
they had never seen so beautiful a boy, and ran to meet him. He was
indeed a beautiful boy, dressed all in white, the star shining in his
forehead and a look of gentle love on his face.

"We are four brothers; will you be the fifth?" they asked Nazim. "Will
you be one of us?"

"I will be your brother," replied Nazim, "for that is why I came. All
the creatures in the jungle had brothers and sisters, and I had none. I
wanted to find some brethren."

Then Chimo, the youngest brother, said there were two things they
wanted. One of these was fire to cook their meat, for they were obliged
to eat the flesh of the deer raw; and the other was a wife for each of
them.

Then one of the other brothers said that the giant Rikal Gouree had a
fire burning on his hearth and four daughters who were anxious to get
married. They knew that he lived not very far away, but they had never
been able to find his house, so they were still without wives and
firebrands to light the wood with which to cook the deer they killed.

"If you will give me a bulrush," said Nazim, "I will show you the way
to his house." So Chimo brought him a bulrush and Nazim fitted it to
his bowstring; then he bent the bow, letting the bulrush fly straight
to Rikal Gouree's palace. "Follow my arrow," cried Nazim. "It has
cleared a path for you, and you shall find what you want."

Then the Four Brothers followed the path Nazim's arrow had made, but
Chimo, who was the swiftest runner, came to the giant's palace first.

Rikal Gouree was sleeping by the fire in an immense room where the
couches were twenty feet long and eight feet high. The fireplace was
like a huge, red, glowing cavern in which whole tree-trunks lay burning
instead of logs, and the ceiling was so high that Chimo could hardly
see it.

Chimo stole a look at the sleeping giant and then snatched up a
firebrand and ran for the door. But as he passed the sleeping giant a
spark from the brand lighted on Rikal Gouree's hand.

The giant sprang up with a cry of pain and rushed out of the house
after Chimo, but could not catch him. In his flight Chimo dropped the
fire-brand and got back to his brothers with nothing to show for his
trouble but a bad fright.

"We want to leave Rikal Gouree alone," he told them. "I would rather
eat raw flesh all my life than go near that monster again."

Finding he could not catch Chimo, the giant went back to his house and
into the room where his wife and four daughters were. He was very
cross, for he had lost his nap and the burn on his hand pained him.

As soon as he had thrown himself into his great chair his oldest
daughter asked him, "Have you got husbands for us yet?" Every day one
of his daughters asked him this question and the sulky old giant would
reply, "No! who can get husbands for four daughters all at once?"

Then the youngest daughter asked her father who the young man was that
she had seen running away from the house. He told her that while he was
asleep a young man had come in and stolen a firebrand.

"I think you did very wrong to send him away," said the giant's wife.
"He would have been one husband at any rate, and giants' daughters do
not get husbands easily. Here is the arrow which came into the room
this morning, which was a sign that men would soon follow it. You have
done a very foolish thing and we shall probably suffer for it."

Some giants' wives are afraid of their husbands, but this one was not,
and she went on to give her husband such a scolding that Rikal Gouree
was glad to get away and go to sleep by the fire again.

After a while the giant was awakened by beautiful music which came from
a tree which grew close to his palace wall. He lay still enjoying the
sweet sounds, but presently they seemed to call him outside, and
looking up he saw Nazim sitting on one of the branches of the tree
playing on a lute.

Underneath the tree the dogs and cats and all the other animals
belonging to him were listening to the music, and the boughs were
covered with birds who were listening too. Presently the music grew so
merry that Rikal Gouree held up his skirts and began to dance.

"What a silly old man you are!" cried his wife as she came out of the
house and saw what he was doing. "You silly old man!" But in a few
minutes she was dancing too, holding up her saree with one hand like a
young girl, while her bangles and anklets tinkled merrily.

Then the giant called to Nazim, "Here, young man, come down from the
tree and I will give you anything you want."

"Then you must give me your four daughters," said Nazim. "Each of my
four brothers wants a wife, and you must give us, besides, a firebrand
from your hearth."

"I knew the arrow was a true omen," cried the giant's wife, and then
his daughters came forward and gave Nazim his arrow, which they had
kept very carefully. They were so pleased that they said good-bye to
their father and mother, and taking as many clothes and jewels as they
could carry on their heads, they set out with Nazim.

On they went until they came to the needle-shaped hill where the
pink-flowering tree Kidsadita was, and there they married the Four
Brothers and lived very happily together.

Nazim did not want to marry, and because he was better and wiser than
they, the Four Brothers made him their king. The giant's daughters made
their jewels into a crown for him, but no jewel was as bright as the
star in his forehead, which outshone them all.



THE FISH PRINCE



EAST INDIAN FAIRY TALES


The Fish Prince


_A Prince is changed into a fish by his cruel mother. The enchantment
is broken by the aid of a seven-headed cobra, and all ends well._

ONCE there were a king and queen who had two sons. The older of the two
was a very short and ugly man with only one eye, and that was in the
middle of his forehead. His brother was tall and handsome and carried
himself like a prince.

Naturally the king preferred his handsome son and wished to make him
his heir. "My people will never obey a dwarf with only one eye," he
said.

This made Deesa, the older son, very angry. "The kingdom ought to be
mine," he said, "or if I cannot have it all it should be divided."

He said this to his wife, whose name was Matni, and as she was an
enchantress she determined to get the whole of the kingdom for her
husband if possible. She thought it all over and then invited the
younger brother to a banquet in that part of the palace where she
lived.

Then she said to her husband, "After supper you must sit with your
brother on the balcony overlooking the river. I will change him into a
fish and then you can throw him into the water. In this way we shall
hear no more of him."

Deesa agreed to this, and after supper invited his brother to sit with
him on the balcony. Then Matni went up on the roof of the palace and
threw down some powder on the younger Prince's head. Just as soon as
she did this, the Prince was changed into a little fish, and his
brother picked him up and threw him into the river.

All this was done so suddenly that the Prince hardly knew what had
happened to him. Over and over he turned before he struck the water,
but when it had closed over him he found that he had been changed into
a fish and could swim very nicely underneath the water.

He seemed to know, too, that Matni had enchanted him, and he wanted to
get out of her way; so he swam on and on until at the end of two days
he was outside of his father's kingdom.

Then one day he was caught in a net by some fishermen and taken to the
palace of the king of that country to be served up for dinner. He was
not very big, and one of the servants thought it would be much nicer to
have him in a bowl than to cook him.

So the servant begged for the little fish. "I will take it to the
Queen's room," she said. "She has no children and is sometimes very
dull. This little fish may amuse her."

The Queen was very much pleased with the pretty little fish and became
very fond of him. When he grew to be too large for the bowl, she had
another one prepared for him, and fed him boiled rice twice every day.
"He is such a dear," she said, "that he shall be called Athon-Rajah,
the Fish Prince."

After awhile the Fish Prince grew so big that the Queen had a tank made
for him through which the clear water of the river flowed in and out.

Then one day the Queen feared that the Fish Prince was not comfortable
in his tank and would prefer to be in the beautiful shining river which
flowed past her windows. So she said to him one day, "Are you quite
happy here, Athon-Rajah?"

After a moment's thought the Fish Prince replied, "I am quite happy
here, dear Queen-mother, but if you could get me a nice little wife I
should be happier. It is really quite lonely here all by myself."

Now the Queen looked upon the Fish Prince as her own son, and never
imagined that any girl would have the least objection to marrying him.
So she said, "If you want a wife I can easily find one for you."

"But would you not like to go and swim in the river?" she went on.

"Certainly not," replied the Fish Prince. "All I want is to have a nice
little wife and live right here." The answer astonished the Queen, but
then she did not know that he was a fish only in appearance.

"All right," she said. "I will find you a wife at once, and have a room
built in the tank for her." She had the room built at once, but it was
not an easy matter to find a wife for the Fish Prince!

Everybody knew that Athon-Rajah was a pet of the Queen's, but for all
that, they said he was a monster of a fish, and that all he wanted of a
wife was to devour her. But the Queen sent messengers far and wide,
among the rich and the poor alike, but found no one who was willing to
give his daughter as a wife to the Fish Prince.

Even the people who had eight or ten daughters were very polite about
it, but said, "We cannot give one of our children to your Fish Prince."
Then the Queen offered a great bag of gold to any father who would send
his daughter to be the Fish Prince's wife, but nothing came of it for a
long time.

At last a fakir or beggar-man heard of the bag of gold and said to the
messenger, "You may have my eldest daughter. She cannot be worse off
than where she is now, and the gold will make me rich."

"Tell me where she is?" asked the Queen's messenger.

"She is down by the river, washing," said the man. "She is my first
wife's child, and her stepmother makes her do all the hard work, and
will not give her enough to eat."

"She gets more than she deserves," cried the stepmother angrily. "Much
more than she deserves. You can take her and welcome. We shall be well
rid of her, and if the Fish Prince wants to eat her, he can do so."

So the messenger gave the bag of gold to the fakir, and went down to
the river, where he found a very pretty girl washing clothes on the
edge of the water. She cried very much when she heard what his errand
was, and begged him to let her say good-bye to an old friend before he
took her away.

"Tell me who is this friend," said the messenger. "The Queen said we
were to lose no time." And the girl replied, "It is a seven-headed
cobra whom I have known ever since I was a little child."

Still crying, the girl, whose name was Maya, ran along the bank, and
the cobra put his seven heads out of the hole where he lived.

"I know all about it," he said. "Don't cry. Pick up those three pebbles
outside my hole and put them in your dress. When you see the
Athon-Rajah coming, throw the first at him. If it hits him he will sink
to the bottom of the tank."

Then the cobra went on. "When he rises to the surface, hit him with the
second, and the same thing will happen. Throw the third pebble at him,
and he will change from a fish into a handsome young prince."

"Then he isn't really a fish?" asked Maya.

"He is the son of a Rajah and is under an enchantment," replied the
cobra. "But you can break the enchantment in the way I have told you."

So Maya dried her tears and went away with the messenger to the palace,
where they showed her a beautiful little room that had been prepared
for her inside the tank where the Fish Prince lived. Then the Queen
kissed her and said, "You are just the dear little wife I want for my
Athon-Rajah."

Maya would have been quite happy, for every one was very kind to her,
if it had not been for the thought of the cold dark water, and her fear
that she might not be able to hit the Fish Prince with the pebbles. But
she let them put her into the little room, where she sat down and
waited for a long time, with the pebbles in her hand.

Then there was a sound of rushing water and of waves dashing against
the door. She looked out and there was a huge fish swimming towards her
with his mouth wide open!

"I want to see my wife!" cried the Fish Prince. "Unfasten the door!"

Trembling from head to foot with fright, Maya opened the door and threw
the first pebble, which went right down his throat. He sunk like a
stone, but in a minute or two came up to the surface again.

Then Maya threw the second pebble, which hit the Fish Prince on the
head, and he sunk the second time.

Maya was so nervous that she nearly missed hitting him with the third
pebble, for it only touched the tip of his fin. This time he did not
sink, but changed into a handsome prince, who took her in his arms and
kissed her tenderly.

"You have broken my enchantment!" he cried. "Now we can enjoy sunshine
and happiness in the world above, and need not live in a tank any
longer."

So they were drawn up out of the water and taken to the palace, where
no one could possibly live happier than Maya and the Fish Prince.



THE TALKING TURTLE



EAST INDIAN FAIRY TALES


The Talking Turtle


_Relates the unique and satisfactory end of a turtle who made mischief
among the cranes, fishes, parrots and monkeys. The moral is obvious._

A GREAT many years ago there was a king who talked too much. His name
was Badahur, and from his beautiful palace he ruled many millions of
people.

There was also a turtle who was even fonder of talking than the King,
and he lived in a pond in the King's garden.

But for all the King was so great and so rich, his people did not
respect him because he talked and talked about everything under the
sun. He had a sort of prime-minister whose name was Hazar, and he was
expected to say foolish things, of course, but the King seemed to want
to say them all.

When the King drove through the streets in his golden chariot with
footmen running before and behind, even the beggars by the roadside
would say, "There goes one who cannot hold his tongue."

"Don't tell your secrets to Badahur," they would go on. "He says more
foolish things in a day than Hazar will ever say in his life. He talks
and talks, and no one else has a chance to speak where he is."

All this used to trouble Hazar, for he knew what the people thought of
their king. He used to lie awake at night thinking how he could cure
the King of his talkativeness, but he could settle upon no plan, for
the more he thought the more difficult the matter seemed.

But the turtle was even worse than the King in the matter of talking.
He talked to the fishes, the parrots, the monkeys, and the birds all
day long, until they were tired of the very sound of his voice.

The fishes, as they lay under the bank used to say to each other, "He
is a mischief-maker. He tells the cranes where our hiding-places are,
and then they drag us out with their long bills and eat us."

He told Mirbah, the King-parrot, what the monkeys said about his tail,
and that started such a quarrel between the parrots and the monkeys
that it never will be patched up.

"When the King takes the court away to the summer palace, let us hope
that some one will invite the turtle to make a long visit elsewhere,"
said the humming-birds. "He is a horrid gossip, even worse than Hazar."

By and by the hot days came and the King and his court went to their
beautiful summer palace away up on the slopes of the mountains. No one
asked the turtle to go anywhere and he was left in the pond.

One day Hazar, who had stayed in the city to finish up some business
before joining the King, was walking in the garden near the pond and
saw two wild ducks alight on the ground near where the turtle was
basking in the sun.

As soon as the turtle saw the ducks he began to talk to them. "Where
are you going?" he asked.

"There is a place called the Golden Cave up in the mountains where we
used to live, and we are going back there," replied the wild ducks.

"I should think that would be a very nice place," said the turtle. "Is
there a pond in the Golden Cave?"

"No. But we have lakes and rivers, plenty of them, and they are very
much better than such a pond as you have here. If you will come with us
you can see for yourself."

Something of this kind was just what the turtle wished, for he was
tired of living in the pond in the King's garden. His tongue had made
him so many enemies that things were unpleasant for him there.

"But I do not see how I can go with you to the Golden Cave," he said to
the wild ducks. "If I could fly it would be an easy thing to do."

"If you would like to go, we will take you," said the ducks. "We will
take the two ends of a stick in our bills, and you can hold on to the
middle by your mouth. Just don't let go of it, and you will be all
right."

"Oh, that will be easy for me to do," replied the turtle.

"Indeed it won't," said Hazar to himself from behind the trees, where
he was watching the ducks and the turtle; "you would have to hold your
tongue, and that is something you could never do since you were born."

Hazar finished up the business he had on hand and then joined the King
in his summer palace up in the hills and as soon as they found a stick
which would bear the weight of the turtle, the ducks flew up into the
air with the turtle between them.

How the fishes did laugh as they looked at the turtle hanging from the
stick by his mouth. "Don't come back again, Talking Turtle," they
called after him. "We can get along very well without you."

"I don't intend to come back! Keep your old pond to yourselves!" was
what the turtle wanted to say in reply, but he did not dare to, because
if he opened his mouth to speak he would tumble right back into the
pond again.

So they flew on and on over the cities and villages and fields, and
every time they stopped, the ducks cautioned the turtle to hold his
tongue or he would be killed.

Then one day as they were flying over a field, a woman who was working
there called out, "Two wild ducks are carrying a turtle along on a
stick!"

This made the turtle so angry that he wanted to say, "You miserable
woman, what is it to you?" but he controlled himself, although he bit
the stick half way through in his rage.

After a while the ducks and the turtle came to the mountains and flew
directly over King Badahur's summer palace. Some boys in the town below
threw sticks at the ducks and called out to them, "Drop that fat old
turtle. We'll make soup of him!"

This made the turtle so angry that he could no longer keep silence. He
started to say, "Soup! You shall be made into soup yourselves,
miserable children," but as he opened his mouth to utter the first
word, he let go of the stick and crashed down into the courtyard of the
palace, where the King and a number of his courtiers were walking.
Hazar ran to pick him up, but he was quite dead!

"What do you think of this?" asked the King of Hazar. "Did the turtle
drop from the sky as a warning to us?"

"He was being carried through the air by two wild ducks," replied
Hazar. "With your Majesty's permission I will tell you what I know
about him." And then he told the King what he had heard and seen in the
palace garden.

After Hazar had finished his story, the King was silent for a long time
and then he said, "This disaster happened to the turtle because he
could not hold his tongue."

Hazar bowed and the King was silent again. "It strikes me, Hazar," he
said at last, "that at times I talk too much."

All the courtiers looked at Hazar, expecting him to deny that the King
could talk too much, or to say that it was a pleasure to listen to
anything the King had to say, but Hazar did nothing of the kind. He
quietly said, as he looked the King straight in the face, "Happy is the
kingdom where the king knows his own faults!"

"Happy is the king who has such a faithful counsellor as yourself,
Hazar," responded the King. "To remind us of the fate of this turtle,
we will have a golden one set up in the palace."

So a golden turtle was made and set up in one of the great halls of the
palace, and whenever the King saw it he was reminded of the fate of the
talkative turtle. He learned wisdom and discretion and how to keep
silent when it was necessary, and instead of despising him, his
subjects came to love and respect him.