Читать книгу Simla Village Tales; Or, Folk Tales from the Himalayas - Alice Dracott - Страница 10

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There was once a Rajah who had six daughters, none of whom were married, although all were grown up.

One day he called them to him, and asked each in turn whether she was satisfied with her lot in life and what fate had given to her. Five of the daughters replied: “Father, our fate is in your hands: you feed and clothe us, and all that is to be provided for our future you will provide: we are well satisfied with our lot in life.” The youngest daughter alone kept silent, and this vexed her father, who enquired why she made no reply.

“My fate is in no one’s hands,” she said; “and whatever is to be, will be, whether so willed by my father or not.”

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The Power of Fate

Took out the fan and began to wave it.

The Rajah was now angrier than before, and ordered that she should be immediately put to death; but upon second thoughts he decided to send her to a distant forest, and there leave her without food or water, so that she might either be eaten by wild beasts at night, or else die of starvation.

So she was placed in a dooly or litter and carried away. The dooly-bearers took her to a very dense jungle, and at length arrived at a clear space, in the centre of which stood a huge oak tree. Here they determined to leave her, so they tied the dooly to the boughs of the tree, where it could swing above ground, and departed.

Now the Princess was very religious, so she spent her time in reading, and said her prayers five times a day, believing that if it were her fate to die she would die, but if not, some help would be sent to her.

In this way day after day passed by without any relief, and the poor Princess was both hungry and cold, yet she continued to pray each day, until, on the morning of the ninth day, Mahadeo (or God), who had heard her unceasing prayers, called one of his messengers and said: “Some one on the earth is in great pain and sorrow, and her prayers are ever knocking at my door; go thou to seek who it is, and bring me word.”

So the messenger went forth, and found the poor Princess in her dooly on the tree, so he quickly brought back the news to Mahadeo, who sent him back with food and water to her relief.

After she had eaten and drunk, she washed the brass vessels in which her food had come, and continued to pray and give thanks to God. Now each day fresh food and water was sent to her, and for her faith and goodness, Mahadeo determined to give her a reward.

Looking out of her dooly one day, she noticed that the earth looked wet in a certain spot, so she dug there with her nails, and found water; not only did she find water, but stones, which were all of solid gold and silver. “My fate has indeed been good,” said the Princess, and she forthwith determined to build herself a Palace on that spot, and to surround it with a beautiful garden.

Next day she heard a woodman felling trees in the forest, and called loudly to him. The man was afraid, for it was a lonesome spot, where he had never before heard the sound of a human voice, and he thought she must be a spirit; but the Princess assured him that she too was human, and a King’s daughter, who had been banished, and promised that if he would only bring her wood to build with, and workmen to make her house, she would pay him in gold daily.

Pleased at his luck, the woodman lost no time in calling carpenters and masons, and before long a lovely Palace and garden were made in the once jungly spot, and here the Princess with her servants lived a very happy life together.

One day the King, her father, riding by that way, was greatly surprised when he saw what a beautiful house and garden had been made in the midst of the jungle. He sent his servants to enquire whose it was, and to bring word quickly concerning it.

The Princess saw her father’s servants, and ordered that they should be kindly treated, and fed on the best of food; so they returned well pleased, to tell the King that it was his long-lost daughter, whom he had thought was dead, that owned the Palace, and she had sent a message to ask him to come and see her.

The Rajah was indeed surprised, and hastened to find out for himself whether or not the news were true. When the Princess met him she reminded him of what she had said about fate, and her belief that what was to be, would be in spite of all efforts to prevent it, so that the Rajah also was convinced that she was right.

After this her sisters came to visit her, and she gave them many beautiful and costly presents. Not long afterwards the Rajah made up his mind to travel, and asked each of his five children what they would like him to bring her on his return. They all wanted something different, and he had almost forgotten to ask his youngest daughter what she wanted, as she already had all that heart could wish, but he felt ashamed to leave her out, so he asked her also.

“I have all that I need, O my father, but if, in your travels, you come to a certain city where there is a little box for sale, bring it to me.”

The Rajah soon bought his five daughters their presents, all but the little box, so when he arrived at the city his youngest daughter had mentioned, he began to enquire if there was a little box for sale.

Now it was well known in that place that a certain bunniah had in his safe keeping a magic box which contained a fan, and the soul of a king’s son. If any one waved the fan forwards, the Prince would at once appear, but waved backwards he would at once disappear.

When the people heard a Rajah asking for a box, they thought that it was this magic box he meant, so they directed him to the bunniah, who said he might have it for five hundred rupees. This seemed a large sum to pay for so small, and, as it appeared to him, common a thing, yet, rather than return without it, the Rajah paid the price and returned to his own country. His five daughters were delighted with their gifts, and he sent the box to the youngest Princess.

She soon opened it, took out the fan, and began to wave it. No sooner had she done so when a fine handsome Prince stood in her presence; but, when she waved in the opposite direction from herself, he disappeared.

Every morning the Princess summoned the Prince with her fan, and during the day they spent many pleasant hours together playing Pacheesee, or Oriental Chess: in the evening she sent him away. The two were always happy together, and never weary of each other’s presence, which, I am told, is a sign of the truest friendship.

The five sisters soon came to show their youngest sister their presents; and laughed when they saw a simple little box, asking what made her choose such a plain common thing.

Upon this the foolish girl told them the whole secret of the box, and taking out the magic fan, waved it in their presence, and the Prince arrived as before.

This made the five elder sisters very angry and jealous; and while they sat together playing chess, they planned mischief in their hearts; so that evening they got some glass, and pounded it into little bits, and this they spread upon the couch on which the Prince was wont to take his midday rest. Next day, when he came, the bits of glass hurt the poor Prince cruelly; but, being a guest, he made no remark, and in the evening departed to his home, where, before long, he became very ill indeed.

The King, his father, summoned all the cleverest Hakeems, or native physicians, to his son’s bedside; but they could do nothing, and day by day the poor Prince lay at the point of death. In vain the Princess waved her fan; he was too ill to respond, and the five cruel sisters rejoiced to think their plan had succeeded so well.

At last the youngest Princess could bear her suspense no longer; so, calling her servants together, she told them she was going by herself to a distant country on a pilgrimage, dressed like a Fakir, and none must follow her.

At first her servants would not consent, and declared they would follow wherever she went, but after a time the Princess had her way, and set out on her journey.

She wandered many miles that day, and at evening, weary and footsore, sat down under a tree to rest. While she sat there an eagle and a parrot began to talk in a neighbouring branch. “What news?” began the parrot.

“Have you not heard of the magic box, and the Princess, and how her sisters placed broken glass on the couch of the Prince, and how even now he lies at the point of death?”

“This is indeed sad news; and is there no remedy for his illness?”

“The remedy is simple, if they but knew it. You have only to gather the refuse from an eagle’s nest, add water to it, and apply it to the hurt, when, after three applications, the glass will come away, and the flesh speedily heal.”

This conversation was eagerly listened to by the Princess; and afterwards she carefully gathered the refuse beside the eagle’s nest, and again started with all haste on her journey.

Arrived at the town, she began to cry in the streets, “A Hakeem, a Hakeem!” (or doctor), and was instantly summoned to the King’s Palace; for he had promised even to give up his kingdom to any one who would save his son. So the Princess in this disguise hastened into the King’s presence, and there arranged to treat the Prince, on condition that no other remedy should be tried by others at the same time.

At the first application of her remedy small pieces of glass were seen to drop out, at the second, still more, and, at the last, all fell out, and not one was left! This gave the Prince such relief that he opened his eyes and regained consciousness, but did not recognise in the new Hakeem, dressed as a Fakir, his former friend, the Princess. At last he got well, and was able to leave his room, so the Princess went to the Rajah, and begged permission to return to her own country.

“Return to your country when I can give you land and riches and honour here! Why need you do that? Ask me for anything, O wise Hakeem, even for my throne and my kingdom, and you shall have it.”

“I desire nothing, O King,” returned the poor Hakeem, “but would crave of you a few tokens in remembrance of your son. A handkerchief, his sword, a ring from his finger, and his bow and arrows.”

“These gifts are too small a return for all you have done. You shall have them, and much more, if you will.”

But the Hakeem refused, and, returning to her home with the tokens she had asked for, once more resumed the dress of a Princess, and, taking out her fan, began to wave it. Immediately the Prince stood in her presence, but she feigned anger with him.

“All these many days I have waved my fan, and you have not come! Why have you come to-day, O Prince?”

Then the Prince told her of all that had happened, of her sisters’ cruelty, of his dangerous illness, and of the wonderful Hakeem who had saved his life, and to whom he should ever be grateful. The Princess was glad indeed to hear all this from his own lips, and, bringing out each gift, laid it before his astonished eyes, while she confessed that it was she herself who had tended him in his illness. The Prince was overcome with joy and gratitude, and asked her to become his wife; so they were married amid great feastings and rejoicings, and lived happily ever after. Such is the power of fate.