Folk-Lore and Legends: Oriental Part 8

"And for eleven days did these things so fall out. But on the twelfth day, when the wife of the bird went to the a.s.semblage, she sat herself down near an old woman. 'Who,' said the old woman, 'is the first in the a.s.semblage this day?' To this question the wife of the bird replied, 'Among the men, the rider upon the white horse is beyond all comparison the foremost. Among the women, I myself am so. Would that I were bound unto this man, for my husband is numbered among wild creatures since he is nothing but a bird.'

"Thus spake she, weeping, and the old woman replied as follows:--'Speak ye no more words like unto these. Amongst the a.s.sembled women thou art in all things the foremost. But the rider upon the white horse is thine own husband. To-morrow is the thirteenth day of the feast. Come not to-morrow unto the feast, but remain at home behind the door until thine husband opens his birdhouse, takes his steed from the stable, and rides to the feast.

Take ye, then, the open birdhouse and burn it. And when thou hast done this thy husband will remain henceforth and for ever in his true form.'

"The wife of the bird, thereupon, did as she had been told; and when the birdhouse was opened, and her husband had departed, she took the birdhouse and burnt it upon the hearth. When the sun bowed down towards the west the bird returned home, and said to his wife, 'What, art thou already returned?' and she said, 'I am already returned.'

Then said her husband, 'Where is my birdhouse?' And the wife replied, 'I have burnt it.' And he said, 'Barama, that is a pretty business--that birdhouse was my soul.'

"And his wife was troubled, and said, 'What is now to be done?' To these words the bird replied, 'There is nothing can be done now, except you seat yourself behind the door, and there by day and night keep clattering a sword. But if the clattering sword ceases, the Tschadkurrs will carry me away. Seven days and seven nights must ye thus defend me from the Tschadkurrs and from the Tangari.'

"At these words the wife took the sword, propped open her eyelids with little sticks, and watched for the s.p.a.ce of six nights. On the seventh night her eyelids closed for an instant, but in that instant the Tschadkurrs and Tangari suddenly s.n.a.t.c.hed her husband away.

"Weeping bitterly, and despising all nourishment, the distracted wife ran about everywhere, crying unceasingly, 'Alas, my bird-husband!

Alas, my bird-husband!'

"When she had sought for him day and night without finding him, she heard from the top of a mountain the voice of her husband. Following the sound, she discovered that the voice proceeded from the river. She ran to the river, and then discovered her husband with a load of tattered boots upon his back. 'Oh! my heart is greatly rejoiced,' said the husband, 'at seeing thee once more. I am forced to draw water for the Tschadkurrs and the Tangari, and have worn out all these boots in doing so. If thou wishest to have me once again, build me a new birdhouse, and dedicate it to my soul; then I shall come back again.'

"With these words he vanished into the air. But the woman betook herself home to the house again, made a new birdhouse, and dedicated it to the soul of her husband. At length the bird-man appeared and perched himself on the roof of the house."

"Truly, his wife was an excellent wife!" exclaimed the Son of the Chan.

"Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words! Ssarwala missdood jakzang!" Thus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air.

Thus Ssidi's seventh relation treats of the Bird-man.

THE PAINTER AND THE WOOD-CARVER.

When the Son of the Chan had, as on all the former occasions, spoken the words of threatening, placed the dead one in the sack, and journeyed forth with him, Ssidi spake this time also as follows:--"The day is long, and the distant journey will tire us: do you relate a tale unto me, or I will relate one unto you." But the Son of the Chan shook his head without saying a word, and Ssidi began as follows:--

"Many years ago there lived in the land of Guja.s.smunn a Chan, whose name was Gunisschang. This Chan, however, died, and his son Chamuk Sakiktschi was elected Chan in his place. Now there lived among the people of that country a painter and a wood-carver, who bore similar names, and were evilly disposed towards each other.

"Once upon a time the painter, Gunga, drew nigh unto the Chan, and said unto him, 'Thy father hath been borne into the kingdom of the Tangari, and hath said unto me, "Come unto me!" Thither I went, and found thy father in great power and splendour; and I have brought for you this letter from him.' With these words the painter delivered unto the Chan a forged letter, the contents of which were as follows:--

"'This letter is addressed to my son Chamuk Sakiktschi.

"'When I departed this life, I was borne to the kingdom of the Tangari. An abundance of all things reigns in this land; but since I am desirous of erecting a paG.o.da, and there are no wood-carvers to be found here, do you despatch unto me Cunga, the wood-carver. The means by which he is to reach this place he may learn from the painter.'

"After he had perused this letter, the Chan of Guja.s.smunn said, 'If my father has really been carried into the realms of the Tangari, that would indeed be a good thing. Call hither the wood-carver.' The wood-carver was called, and appeared before the Chan, and the Chan said unto him, 'My father has been carried into the realms of the Tangari. He is desirous of erecting a paG.o.da, and because there are no wood-carvers there he is desirous that you should be despatched unto him.'

"With these words the Chan displayed the forged letter, and when he had read it, the wood-carver said unto himself, 'Of a surety Gunga, the painter, has played me this trick; but I will try if I cannot overreach him.'

"Thus thinking, he inquired of the painter, 'By what means can I reach the kingdom of the Tangari?'

"To these words, the painter replied, 'When thou hast prepared all thy tools and implements of trade, then place thyself upon a pile of f.a.gots, and when thou hast sung songs of rejoicing and set light to the pile of f.a.gots, thus wilt thou be able to reach the kingdom of the Tangari.' Thus spake he, and the seventh night from that time was appointed for the carver's setting forth on his journey.

"When the wood-carver returned home unto his wife, he spake unto her these words:--'The painter hath conceived wickedness in his mind against me; yet I shall try means to overreach him.'

"Accordingly he secretly contrived a subterranean pa.s.sage, which reached from his own house into the middle of his field. Over the aperture in the field he placed a large stone, covered the stone with earth, and when the seventh night was come, the Chan said, 'This night let the wood-carver draw nigh unto the Chan, my father.' Thereupon, agreeably to the commands of the Chan, every one of the people brought out a handful of the fat of the Gunsa (a beast). A huge fire was kindled, and the wood-cutter, when he had sung the songs of rejoicing, escaped by the covered way he had made back to his own house.

"Meanwhile the painter was greatly rejoiced, and pointed upwards with his finger, and said, 'There rideth the wood-carver up to heaven.'

All who had been present, too, betook themselves home, thinking in their hearts, 'The wood-carver is dead, and gone up above to the Chan.'

"The wood-carver remained concealed at home a whole month, and allowed no man to set eyes upon him, but washed his head in milk every day, and kept himself always in the shade. After that he put on a garment of white silk, and wrote a letter, in which stood the following words:--

"'This letter is addressed to my son Chamuk Sakiktschi. That thou rulest the kingdom in peace; it is very good. Since thy wood-carver has completed his work, it is needful that he should be rewarded according to his deserts. Since, moreover, for the decoration of the paG.o.da, many coloured paintings are necessary, send unto me the painter, as thou hast already sent this man.'

"The wood-carver then drew nigh unto the Chan with this letter.

'What!' cried the Chan, 'art thou returned from the kingdom of the Tangari?' The wood-carver handed the letter unto him, and said, 'I have, indeed, been in the kingdom of the Tangari, and from it I am returned home again.'

"The Chan was greatly rejoiced when he heard this, and rewarded the wood-carver with costly presents. 'Because the painter is now required,' said the Chan, 'for the painting of the paG.o.da, let him now be called before me.'

"The painter drew nigh accordingly, and when he saw the wood-carver, fair, and in white-shining robes, and decorated with gifts, he said unto himself, 'Then he is not dead!' And the Chan handed over to the painter the forged letter, with the seal thereto, and said, 'Thou must go now.'

"And when the seventh night from that time arrived, the people came forward as before with a contribution of the fat of the Gunsa; and in the midst of the field a pile of f.a.gots was kindled. The painter seated himself in the midst of the fire, with his materials for painting, and a letter and gifts of honour for the Chan Gunisschang, and sang songs of rejoicing; and as the fire kept growing more and more intolerable, he lifted up his voice and uttered piercing cries; but the noise of the instruments overpowered his voice, and at length the fire consumed him."

"He was properly rewarded!" exclaimed the Son of the Chan.

"Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words! Ssarwala missdood jakzang!"

Thus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air.

Thus Ssidi's eighth relation treats of the Painter and the Wood-carver.

THE STEALING OF THE HEART.

When the Son of the Chan was, as formerly, carrying Ssidi away in the sack, Ssidi inquired of him as before; but the Son of the Chan shook his head without speaking a word, so Ssidi proceeded as follows:--

"Many, many years ago there ruled over a certain kingdom a Chan named Guguluktschi. Upon the death of this Chan his son, who was of great reputation and worth, was elected Chan in his place.

"One berren (a measure of distance) from the residence of the Chan dwelt a man, who had a daughter of wonderful abilities and extraordinary beauty. The son of the Chan was enamoured of this maiden, and visited her daily; until, at length, he fell sick of a grievous malady, and died, without the maiden being made aware of it.

"One night, just as the moon was rising, the maiden heard a knocking at the door, and the face of the maiden was gladdened when she beheld the son of the Chan; and the maiden arose and went to meet him, and she led him in and placed arrack and cakes before him. 'Wife,' said the son of the Chan, 'come with me!'

"The maiden followed, and they kept going further and further, until they arrived at the dwelling of the Chan, from which proceeded the sound of cymbals and kettledrums.

"'Chan, what is this?' she asked. The son of the Chan replied to these inquiries of the maiden, 'Do you not know that they are now celebrating the feast of my funeral?' Thus spake he; and the maiden replied, 'The feast of thy funeral! Has anything then befallen the Chan's son?' And the son of the Chan replied, 'He is departed. Thou wilt, however, bear a son unto him. And when the season is come, go into the stable of the elephant, and let him be born there. In the palace there will arise a contention betwixt my mother and her attendants, because of the wonderful stone of the kingdom. The wonderful stone lies under the table of sacrifice. After it has been discovered, do you and my mother reign over this kingdom until such time as my son comes of age.'

"Thus spake he, and vanished into air. But his beloved fell, from very anguish, into a swoon. 'Chan! Chan!' exclaimed she sorrowfully, when she came to herself again. And because she felt that the time was come, she betook herself to the stable of the elephants, and there gave birth to a son.

"On the following morning, when the keeper of the elephants entered the stable, he exclaimed, 'What! has a woman given birth to a son in the stable of the elephants? This never happened before. This may be an injury to the elephants.'

"At these words the maiden said, 'Go unto the mother of the Chan, and say unto her, "Arise! something wonderful has taken place."'

"When these words were told unto the mother of the Chan, then she arose and went unto the stable, and the maiden related unto her all that had happened, 'Wonderful!' said the mother of the Chan.

'Otherwise the Chan had left no successors. Let us go together into the house.'

"Thus speaking, she took the maiden with her into the house, and nursed her, and tended her carefully. And because her account of the wonderful stone was found correct, all the rest of her story was believed. So the mother of the Chan and his wife ruled over the kingdom.

"Henceforth, too, it happened that every month, on the night of the full moon, the deceased Chan appeared to his wife, remained with her until morning dawned, and then vanished into air. And the wife recounted this to his mother, but his mother believed her not, and said, 'This is a mere invention. If it were true my son would, of a surety, show himself likewise unto me. If I am to believe your words, you must take care that mother and son meet one another.'