Tales of Folk and Fairies Part 24

The nurse went to the old Ranee, and said, "Do you know, I believe those children are still alive? I believe they are living in a rat hole near the ash heap, for I saw a pretty little girl playing there among the ashes, and when I came close to her she ran down into the largest rat hole and hid."

The Ranee was very much troubled when she heard this, for if it were true, as she thought it might be, she feared the Rajah would hear about it and inquire into the matter. "What shall I do?" she asked the nurse.

"Send out and have the ground dug over and filled in," the nurse replied. "In this way, if any of the children are hidden there, they will be covered over and smothered, and you will also kill the rats that have been harboring them."

The Ranee at once sent for workmen and bade them go out to the rat holes and dig and fill them in, and the children and the rats would certainly have been smothered just as the nurse had planned, only luckily the old mother rat was hiding near by and overheard what was said. She at once hastened home and told her friends what was going to happen, and they all made their escape before the workmen arrived. She also took the children out of the hole and hid them under the steps that led down into an old unused well. There were twenty-one steps, and she hid one child under each step. She told them not to utter a sound whatever happened, and then she and her friends ran away and left them.

Presently the workmen came with their tools and began to fill in the rat holes. The little daughter of the head workman had come with him, and while he and his fellows were at work the little girl amused herself by running up and down the steps into the well. Every time she trod upon a step it pinched the child who lay under it. The little boys made no sound when they were pinched, but lay as still as stones, but every time the child trod on the step under which the Princess lay she sighed, and the third time she felt the pinch she cried out, "Have pity on me and tread more lightly. I too am a little girl like you!"

The workman's daughter was very much frightened when she heard the voice. She ran to her father and told him the steps had spoken to her.

The workman thought this a strange thing. He at once went to the old Ranee and told her he dared no longer work near the well, for he believed a witch or a demon lived there under the steps; and he repeated what his little daughter had told him.

The wicked nurse was with the Ranee when the workman came to her. As soon as he had gone, the nurse said: "I am sure some of those children must still be alive. They must have escaped from the rat holes and be hiding under the steps. If we send out there we will probably find them."

The Ranee was frightened at the thought they might still be alive. She ordered some servants to come with her, and she and the nurse went out to look for the children.

But when the little girl had cried out the little boys were afraid some harm might follow, and prayed that they might be changed into trees, so that if any one came to search for them they might not find them.

Their prayers were answered. The twenty little boys were changed into twenty little banyan trees that stood in a circle, and the little girl was changed into a rose-bush that stood in the midst of the circle and was full of red and white roses.

The old Ranee and the nurse and the servants came to the well and searched under every step, but no one was there, so went away again.

All might now have been well, but the workman's mischievous little daughter chanced to come by that way again. At once she espied the banyan trees and the rose-bush. "It is a curious thing that I never saw these trees before," she thought. "I will gather a bunch of roses."

She ran past the banyan trees without giving them a thought and began to break the flowers from the rose-tree. At once a shiver ran through the tree, and it cried to her in a pitiful voice: "Oh! oh! you are hurting me. Do not break my branches, I pray of you. I am a little girl, too, and can suffer just as you might."

The child ran back to her father and caught him by the hand. "Oh, I am frightened!" she cried. "I went to gather some roses from the rose-tree, and it spoke to me;" and she told him what the rose-tree had said.

At once the workman went off and repeated to the Ranee what his little daughter had told him, and the Queen gave him a piece of gold and sent him away, bidding him keep what he had heard a secret.

Then she called the wicked nurse to her and repeated the workman's story. "What had we better do now?" she asked.

"My advice is that you give orders to have all the trees cut down and burned," said the nurse. "In this way you will rid yourself of the children altogether."

This advice seemed good to the Ranee. She sent men and had the trees cut down and thrown in a heap to burn.

But heaven had pity on the children, and just as the men were about to set fire to the heap a heavy rain storm arose and put out the fire.

Then the river rose over its banks, and swept the little trees down on its flood, far, far away to a jungle where no one lived. Here they were washed ash.o.r.e and at once took on their real shapes again.

The children lived there in the jungle safely for twelve years, and the brothers grew up tall and straight and handsome, and the sister was like the new moon in her beauty, so slim and white and shining was she.

The brothers wove a hut of branches to shelter their sister, and every day ten of them went out hunting in the forest, and ten of them stayed at home to care for her. But one day it chanced they all wished to go hunting together, so they put their sister up in a high tree where she would be safe from the beasts of the forest, and then they went away and left her there alone.

The twenty brothers went on and on through the jungle, farther than they had ever gone before, and so came at last to an open s.p.a.ce among the trees, and there was a hut.

"Who can be living here?" said one of the brothers.

"Let us knock and see," cried another.

The Princes knocked at the door and immediately it was opened to them by a great, wicked-looking Rakshas. She had only one red eye in the middle of her forehead; her gray hair hung in a tangled mat over her shoulders, and she was dressed in dirty rags.

When the Rakshas saw the brothers she was filled with fury.

She considered all the jungle belonged to her, and she was not willing that any one else should come there. Her one eye flashed fire, and she seized a stick and began beating the Princes, and each one, as she struck him, was turned into a crow. She then drove them away and went back into her hut and closed the door.

The twenty crows flew back through the forest, cawing mournfully. When they came to the tree where their sister sat they gathered about her, trying to make her understand that they were her brothers.

At first the Princess was frightened by the crows, but when she saw there were tears in their eyes, and when she counted them and found there were exactly twenty, she guessed what had happened, and that some wicked enchantment had changed her brothers into this shape. Then she wept over them and smoothed their feathers tenderly.

After this the sister lived up in the tree, and the crows brought her food every day and rested around her in the branches at night, so that no harm should come to her.

Some time after this a young Rajah came into that very jungle to hunt.

In some way he became separated from his attendants and wandered deeper and deeper into the forest, until at length he came to the tree where the Princess sat. He threw himself down beneath the tree to rest. Hearing a sound of wings above him the Rajah looked up and was amazed to see a beautiful girl sitting there among the branches with a flock of crows about her.

The Rajah climbed the tree and brought the girl down, while the crows circled about his head, cawing hoa.r.s.ely.

"Tell me, beautiful one, who are you? And how come you here in the depths of the jungle?" asked the Rajah.

Weeping, the Princess told him all her story except that the crows were her brothers; she let him believe that her brothers had gone off hunting and had never returned.

"Do not weep any more," said the Rajah. "You shall come home with me and be my Ranee, and I will have no other but you alone."

When the Princess heard this she smiled, for the Rajah was very handsome, and already she loved him.

She was very glad to go with him and be his wife. "But my crows must go with me," she said, "for they have fed me for many long days and have been my only companions."

To this the Rajah willingly consented, and he took her home with him to the palace; and the crows circled about above them, following closely all the way.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Rajah brought the girl down, while the crows circled about his head.]

When the old Rajah and Ranee (the young Rajah's father and mother) saw what a very beautiful girl he had brought back with him from the jungle they gladly welcomed her as a daughter-in-law.

The young Ranee would have been very happy now in her new life, for she loved her husband dearly, but always the thought of her brothers was like a weight upon her heart. She had a number of trees planted outside her windows so that her brothers might rest there close to her. She cooked rice for them herself and fed them with her own hands, and often she sat under the trees and stroked them and talked to them while her tears fell upon their glossy feathers.

After a while the young Ranee had a son, and he was called Ramchundra.

He grew up straight and tall, and he was the joy of his mother's eyes.

One day, when he was fourteen years old, and big and strong for his age, he sat in the garden with his mother. The crows flew down about them, and she began to caress and talk to them as usual. "Ah, my dear ones!" she cried, "how sad is your fate! If I could but release you, how happy I should be."

"Mother," said the boy, "I can plainly see that these crows are not ordinary birds. Tell me whence come they, and why you weep over them and talk to them as you do?"

At first his mother would not tell him, but in the end she related to him the whole story of who she was, and how she and her brothers had come to the jungle and had lived there happily enough until they were changed into crows; and then of how the Rajah had found her and brought her home with him to the palace.

"I can easily see," said Ramchundra, when she had ended the tale, "that my uncles must have met a Rakshas somewhere in the forest and have been enchanted. Tell me exactly where the tree was--the tree where you lived--and what kind it was?"

The Ranee told him.