Folklore of the Santal Parganas - Cecil Henry Bompas (paper ebook reader .TXT) 📗

the Jugi's advice, as he felt that he could not leave his kingdom

without an heir; so he said that he would go away to a far country,

on pretence of visiting a distant shrine; but the Rani feared that

if, on his return, he found that she had borne a child, he would

kill her or at least turn her and the child out to beg their bread;

but the Raja assured her that he would never treat her in that way

and after making his final arrangements he went off to a far country.

 

There he stayed some years and in the meanwhile the Rani had five sons;

at last she wrote to her husband to come home and directly he reached

the palace he bade the Rani to bring the boys to him, that he might

embrace and acknowledge them; so they were brought and he took them

one by one in his arms and kissed them, and he saw that they were

all the images of himself. But when he kissed the youngest child he

was suddenly struck with blindness. Then he rose in wrath and ordered

the child to be taken away and killed; but the mother had pity on it

and persuaded the soldiers not to kill it but to convey it away to

a far country.

 

The child's name was Lita and he grew up and was married to the

daughter of the Raja of the land and lived in his father-in-law's

house. But Lita was always tormented by the thought that he had been

the cause of his father's blindness; although he would not tell anyone

of his sorrow, he used to get up when every one was asleep and spend

the night in tears. One night his wife surprised him weeping and

begged him to tell her what was the matter. She pressed him until he

told her how, immediately his father kissed him, he had gone blind

and how his mother had smuggled him out of the country and saved his

life, but how the recollection of the harm he had done tormented him

and how he longed to be able to return to his own country and restore

his father's sight. His wife on hearing this at once began to comfort

him and assured him that she would help him to obtain a medicine which

would restore his father's sight. In a range of mountains was a Rakhas

who had a daughter who was buried in a heap of Fuljhari flowers; if

Lita went and could persuade the Rakhas to let him marry his daughter,

he could then get a Fuljhari flower and if that were rubbed on his

father's eyes his sight would be restored.

 

So Lita set out towards the mountains and sat down by the road side

at their foot. Presently the Rakhas and his wife came by; the wife

asked him what he was sitting there for; he said that he was looking

out for some one who would have him to come and live in his house as

a son-in-law. The Rakhas paid no heed to this and proposed to eat up

Lita at once, but his wife begged him to spare the young man and take

him home and marry him to their daughter, who was very lonely. The

Rakhas gave way and they took Lita to the cavern in which they lived

and there was their daughter buried under a heap of flowers. They

made her get up, and told her that they had brought a husband for her.

 

Lita and his bride lived happily together and were soon deeply

in love with each other, and after a time he told her about his

father's blindness and how he wished to try to cure it with one of

her flowers. She readily agreed to help him; so the next day she

went to her father and said that she wished to pay a short visit to

her husband's home; the Rakhas consented and she and Lita took their

leave. She told Lita that when the Rakhas offered him a farewell gift,

he should take nothing but a hair from the Rakhas' head; this he did

and they tied the flower and the hair up carefully and set off to the

home, where Lita's first wife was awaiting them. She told her parents

that Lita had come back with one of his sisters, and that she now

wished to go back with them on a visit to their home. Her parents

assented and the three of them set out and one evening reached the

outskirts of the village in which Lita had been born. They camped

under a roadside tree, but in the middle of the night they took out

the Rakhas' hair and said to it "Make us a golden palace" and at

once a golden palace sprang up. Next morning all the residents of

the village collected to see the wonderful new palace, and Lita told

them to bring their Raja and he would cure him of his blindness. So

they went and fetched the old blind Raja and directly Lita touched

his eyes with the flower his sight was restored. Then they wept over

each other and told all that had happened. And the old Raja and his

wife came and lived with Lita and his wives and the other brothers

stayed on at their old home; and they all lived happily ever after.

LXXXII. (The Corpse of the Raja's Son.)

 

There was once a blacksmith named Chitru who had a very pretty

wife; and the woman attracted the attention of the son of the

Raja. Chitru suspected that his wife was unfaithful to him, and one

night he pretended to go away from home, but really he lay in wait

and surprised the prince visiting his wife; then he sprang out upon

him and strangled him.

 

But when he found himself with the corpse of the prince on his hands,

he began to wonder what he should do to avoid being convicted of the

murder. At last he took up the corpse and carried it to the house

of two dancing girls who lived in the village, and laid it down

inside. Soon after the dancing girls woke up and saw the corpse

lying in their room; they at once aroused their parents, and when

they found that it was the corpse of the Prince, they were filled

with consternation.

 

Now Chitru had a reputation for cunning, so they decided to send

for him quietly and take his advice. When he came they begged him to

save them; he pretended to be much surprised and puzzled and at last

undertook to get them out of their difficulty, if they paid him one

hundred rupees; they gladly paid him the money, and then he took up

the corpse and carried it off and laid it down on the verandah of the

house of a _mahajan_ who lived near. Soon after some one came out of

the house and found the corpse; at once they were all in consternation

and sent for the clever Chitru to help them out of their difficulty.

 

Chitru refused to lift a finger unless he were paid two hundred rupees,

and when he had got the money he took up the corpse and put it in a

sitting position in a little patch of _brinjals_ which a Koeri had

planted by his front door. At dawn the Koeri came out and saw what

he thought was a thief stealing his brinjals, and promptly threw

a stone at the man. The corpse fell over, and when the Koeri went

to see who it was he found the dead body of the Raja's son. As it

was daylight, he had no opportunity of making away with the body,

so he was arrested and sent for trial. He was acquitted, because he

had acted unwittingly, but he was too frightened of the Raja to stay

any longer in the village and absconded as soon as he could.

 

Chitru, who was the real murderer, made his wife promise to keep

silence by threats and was three hundred rupees the better for the

business.

LXXXIII. (The Sham Child.)

 

There was once a Raja who had two wives and each Rani had a maidservant

who was the Raja's concubine; but none of them had any children. In

the course of time the ladies began to quarrel and when they appealed

to the Raja, he found that the elder Rani was to blame and turned

her out of the palace, and sent her to live in a palm leaf hut on

the outskirts of the town. Her faithful maidservant followed her,

and the two supported themselves by begging. But they barely got

enough to keep body and soul together.

 

After a few days the maidservant asked permission of her mistress to

play a trick on the Raja, by which they should at least get sufficient

food. The Rani assented and the maidservant went off to the Raja

and told him that the wife whom he had turned out was five months

with child, and that it was a disgrace that one who was to be the

mother of his heir should have to beg her bread. On hearing this the

Raja somewhat relented towards the Rani, and he ordered money to be

sent her sufficient to provide her with food, and had a proper house

prepared for her. When the proper time arrived, the maidservant went

to the Raja and told him that a son had been born; at this joyful

news the Raja became still more generous and told the maidservant

that she was free to take whatever was wanted for the child.

 

This suited the maid and her mistress excellently; so long as they

could keep up the deception they lived in comfort; when the child

was supposed to have grown old enough to run about, they asked for

the price of some anklets with bells on them and bought a pair,

and whenever the Raja passed by the house in which the Rani lived,

the maidservant made her mistress rattle the anklets, and then went

outside and told the Raja to listen to the anklets tinkling as his son

ran about the house. The Raja would tell the maidservant not to let the

boy run about too much, lest he should fall and hurt himself; then she

would hurry inside and tell the Rani to stop the jingling, and then

come and tell the Raja that the boy was resting in his mother's lap;

but for all this the Raja was never given an opportunity of seeing

his son.

 

However as time went on the Raja chose a bride and arranged for

his son's wedding; the bride's friends did not come to inspect the

bridegroom; a day was fixed right off for the wedding. As this day drew

near, the Rani became more and more frightened, for it seemed that her

deception must at last be discovered, and she would probably be put

to death. But the maidservant encouraged her and promised to devise

a plan; so when the day came for them to start for the bride's house

she made a paste of ground mowah flowers and out of this fashioned

an image of a child; and when