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G.R
3 Ó ST
, S ºf 72
RAJA RASALU.
THE PANJAB BARD sº ARAE sing ING THE ADVENTURES
of RAJA RASALú.
From a Photograph by Mr. Jno. Burke of Rawal Pinai.
* -ºº-ºº:

THE ADVENTURES
OF THE
FANJAB HIEERO

RAJA, RASALU
AND OTHER FOZA-TAZES OF THE PA wań.
Collected and Compiled from Original Sources.
BY THE
REV, CHARLEs Swynn ERTON,
MEMBER of the Royal Asiatic AND Folk-Lore SocIETIES, AND of THE
- - As I AT1c Society of BENGAL. - -
AUTHOR OF
“The A/g/a/. Way,” “ Gozºgh's Action at Flettehabad,” &c.
Such tales their cheer, at wake or gossiping,
When it draws near the witching time of night.—Blair,
(I a l cutta :
W. NEWMAN & Co., L.D., 4, DALHOUSIE SQUARE.
I884.
CALCUTrA :
PrinTED BY W. NewMAN AND Co., LIMITED, AT THE CAxton STEAM
PRINTING WoRKS, 4, DALHousie SQUARE.
All rights reserved.

§ººC’
Y.
J
.
y
•r
s
.
*A.
IN MEMORIAMI.
jti. Ş.
Oó. AVoz/emó. 8: Z882.
O laggard time of sadness and of waiting,
O day prolonged from ling'ring year to year,
How oft I stand, within my heart debating,
Will sunset shadows never more appear 2
So long l’ve waited for the restful night,
Such tears I’ve shed for sorrow of the soul,
Sighing and sobbing in the fevered light
That, burning, beats from out the brazen pole !
Will day end nevermore ? And shall the sun
Forever stand remorseless in the sky 7
The swooning Hours of Time have ceased to run,
And men are wrestling with eternity.
I long for night, I long for dreamy covers
Within the hills or close upon the deep ;
I long for twilight hours, endeared to lovers,
And O I long for cool oblivious sleep
Some cavern's depths shall be my drowsy pillow,
Far from the wildering tumult of the world ;
There let me listen to the surging billow,
By windy currents hoarsely swayed and swirled !
There, sheltered, on the veinēd shingle lying,
Let me sleep out the remnant of my days,
Drugged by Sweet sloth, all sorrow past, and sighing,
Past, all regard for censure or for praise !
The crystal wave that shivers at my feet,
The breaker foaming in the shadowy wild,
Will sing for love a lullaby as sweet
As e'er allured the fancy of a child.
Come then, ye stately Hours of Even-song,
Lead me far hence to some such dim recess,
Then fold me, wearied out, to slumber long,
Fold me in slumber and forgetfulness
O laggard time of sadness and of grief -
O day prolonged from tardy year to year,
When will the shadows, laden with relief,
Descend from starry kingdoms cold and clear 7
i
#
393834
INTRODUCT I () N.
ON the summit of one of the peaks of Gandgarh by the
Upper Indus stands an old fortress which is known as Káfir
Kót ; or, the Fort of the Infidels. It is situated midway
between Pir Thán the highest point of the range, and the
lofty village of Chenār Kót, beneath the precipices of
which, over a friendly gap, runs the rough mountain road
from the broad Indus Valley on the west to the beautiful
vale in Hazárá on the east, where Haripur, famous for its
flowels and fruits, reposes among the cool groves.
At Káfir Kót, says tradition, the last stand was made
by the “infidel” Hindús of the Chach plain, when the
country Succumbed to the exterminating inroads of bar-
barian Muhammadans from Central Asia about nine hundred
years ago. The walls comprise within their area the very
Summit of the hill, resting on the south-eastern side upon the
edge of a deep inaccessible cliff which descends for hun-
dreds of feet into the peaceful valley beneath. Over the

ii /AVTRODUCTION.
--------------º-º-º-º-º-º-º-º-, * = < * ------> *-* * *-*** , amº º-º- - - -ºº-º-º--
verge of the cliff, just without the south-eastern angle of
the fort, where the wall retires, there exists a famous cave
overgrown by a hardy jujube tree, and so cunningly con-
trived by nature that only by accident could its existence
be suspected at all. This cave is known as Kāfir-Köt-ki-
Ghar, or the Cave of the Fort of the Infidels. It runs in a
downward sloping direction about forty feet into the lime-
stone rock, and it ends in two small natural chambers very
difficult of access. When the devoted garrison found their
retreat cut off on all sides, it is said that they threw their arms
into the bottom of the cave, and that then, in the character
of unarmed suppliants, they came forth and made an un-
availing appeal for quarter to their terrible invaders,
One bright winter's day after inspecting the old walls, and
clambering down into the depths of the cave where ashes and
potsherds existed in abundance to attest its ancient uses,
I was resting in the dense shade of the grove of well-grown
Samaſ/id, which covers the hill, when I ovcrheard some of
my village-guides disputing as to whether the Cave of the In-
fidels might not be identical with the legendary Cave of
Gandgarh, some asserting that it was the same, and others
maintaining the contrary,
“Gandgarri-ki-Ghār,” said a tall mountaineer from Sirikot
“is in Pir Thán. To this cave Rājā Rasilu never came at
al].”
“As no one has ever been able to find the Cave of
Gandgarh,” answered a man of Ghāzī, “I do not see why
this should not be it.” -
INTRODUCTION. iii.
“How could you expect to find the Cave of Gandgarh,”
enquired the first man triumphantly, “when Rasálu shut in
the giant with a great stone, and covered the place up P”
It was under these circumstances that I first made ac-
quaintance with the hero of the following legends, Rájá
Rasalu. As the sun was rapidly declining I waited then
to hear no more, but having enjoyed our brief halt, we
all started on our return to Ghāzī, I on foot, and my little boy
of five, well armed with a bow and arrow for incautious
tigers, in a small native bridal doolie, which was borne on
the shoulders of a couple of stout villagers. Through rough
rocks of Schist or limestone, and by many a rugged track,
our path conducted us down the steep declivities of
Mount Gandgarh, affording us near at hand beautiful sun-
ny views of valley and precipice and lofty Sikh fortress, and
revealing far away the stately Indus, the spacious Peshawur
Valley, and the still more distant hills of Kābul and Bájour,
where human life is cheap, and where men go armed to the
teeth. High over our heads in the pure aether wheeled
a golden-crested eagle, and in the lower atmosphere floated
kites and hawks. Sometimes a brace of black partridges,
startled by our approach, went whirring their noisy wings
down into the lower copses, or a painted jay flew by, or a
pair of doves spotted and rose-coloured, or some blue
pigeons lingered to gaze at us, or a chatterbox peered from
the gloom of a thicket, or a flight of excited Starlings
swept through the radiant air. Among these wild upland
glens, where homesteads are few, solitary and Scattered,
iv ZAVTRODUCT/OAV. .
dwell too the leopard, the wolf, and the red and gray hyae-
na, the fox and the jackal, the pole-cat and the mungoose,
the grey squirrel and the ‘fretful porcupine,’ together with
a species of deer named here the rành, but lower down the
gi/ral. At one time we found ourselves in a deep, dark
dell, all enclosed by precipices, a fit abode for the oracle
of a god, in which flowed from perennial springs cold pel-
lucid water, and where flourished an abundance of vege.
table life, as the Åamáſá adorned profusely with lovely red
flowers and berries, the graceful drooping creeper Veyri re-
nowned as a remedy for dyspepsia, the gićngeyr, the dull red
berries of which are said to be purgative, such specimens of
acacia as the phulāh or gum acacia, and the Kikar or acacia
arabica, and the bér, which is the jujube-tree, together with
the dhaman glorious for its grand foliage and fair white
flowers, and valuable for its fine elastic wood which is highly
prized by the country bowyers, -
Having dined that evening with our excellent host, Mr.
T. L. Barlow of Ghāzī, we drew round the blazing log-fire,
for the night air was bitterly cold, and spent the evening
listening to one of my argumentative guides, who came
in to relate to us all that he had ever heard of the adven-
tures of Rājā Rašálu.
The legend then told and translated wivá tode was pub-
lished by me in an English dress in the Folklore Journal of
the-month of May in the present year,
In the following August and September a second and a
very different version of Rasālu's adventures was published
by subscription in Bombay,
AAV7'RO/DUCT/OAV. V
These two versions, So far as I am aware, are the only
two accounts of the old Panjāb hero which have as yet
been made public.
The following account is a compilation from three
different versions now in my possession. The first version
is that from Ghāzi, referred to above. I obtained the
second from an old professional bard named Jümá,
who lives between Rāwal Pindi and Mari, and who be-
lieved himself to be one hundred and twenty years of
age. The third version was recited to me by the bard
Shuruf whose home lies much nearer to the borders of
Kashmir.
All these three distinct versions, while contradictory in
some points, serve to supplement each other in many more,
Thus, Juimá's story of the Giants excelled Shuruf's in general
interest and in dramatic completeness, but on the other
hand Shuruf possessed treasures which the quavering voice
of Juimá sang not of, as the charming legend of Mirshikäri
and the tale of the Swans. From Shuruf too I learnt the
names of all the giants and of the giantess, the name of
Rasālu’s horse, and the important tradition that one of the
giants at least, and probably all of them, possessed only
a single eye. To him I am also indebted for the beauti-
ful lament which I have rendered,
“Strange is Thy mature always, God most dread,”
and which, said he, was sung by the giantess Gandgarri
when Rasālu imprisoned her under the mountain. This
lament I have ventured to put into the mouth of the giant
vi - JAWTRODUCTIO/V.
Thirra, following Júmá's version that it was he, and not
Gandgarri, who was thus imprisoned.
I once took Shuruf with me to Ghāzī and confronted
him with some of the villagers of Gandgarh, when a very
amusing discussion was the result. Poor Shuruſ, belonging
to a low and despised class, had to speak in very subdued
tones to the fierce Patháns—“with bated breath and whis-
pering utterance”—but he bravely held his own. Subse-
quently one of the villagers of Sirikót came to us privately
and Said, - *
“Sáhib, these bards know nothing whatever about
the matter. The whole of these stories of theirs are
invented out of their own heads. How could Rājā Rasālu
and his Ráni have lived at Kheri-Murti, when we all know
they lived at Mohat, not five miles off P I have seen the
place and I will show it to you.”
Hardly had he gone out when Shuruf entered the room
with a most profound Salaam, and Squatting himself down
and leaning forward as if timorous lest the very walls should
overhear him, he half whispered,
“Sáhib, these villagers tell nothing but lies, all lies. How
can they know better than we when our forefathers for
hundreds of generations have handed down to us these very
stories just as they are P’’
Hours after, from the servants' quarters in rear, we
continued to catch stray sounds of the dispute still raging,
as all the events of Rasālu’s career were narrated and
canvassed, the old bard finally getting the best of the argu-
/,\'T/CO/DUCTION. - vji
ment by showing a bolder front, and deluging his village
critics with a torrent of verses, to their amazement and dis-
comfiture.
To the lover of comparative folklore, the legends of
Rājā Rasalu, all of them of great antiquity, should appeal
with considerable power and interest. They contain
echoes of the household tales of many lands, and they are
not destitute of curious reminiscences of the folk-legends
of the ancient Greeks, so familiar to us in their mythology
and in the pages of their tragic poets. Here and there
in these old-world fragments, orally preserved as they have
been by a separate and distinct class of men in humble
station, who were, and are, utterly unlettered, we catch
glimpses, faint, yet tender, of the Golden Age dreamt of by
the bards of yore. What could be more quaint and simple
in its golden loveliness than the peaceful picture presented,
to us in the story of Rājā Rasálu and Rājā Bhojā P It is
as though the warlike hero had passed out of a world of
battle and strife into a region of a new and a happy exist-
ence, as if he had stepped backward in the march of Time,
and was tasting of the delights of that blissful era, in depict-
ing which the wild dreamy eloquence of the Knight of La
Mancha enchanted the ears of his gaping rustic audience,
for even to him it was not given to perceive until the very
last, that, after all, the Golden Age lies not in the visionary
past, but in the bright unfoldings of an assured future, in
the hope full of immortality and in the glory that shall be
revealed,
viii ZA'7"RODUCTION.
The stories of Rasilu open with an account of Queen Luína
and Prince Púran, Rasálu's half-brother, which is almost exactly
the counterpart of the tale of Phaedra and Hippolytus.
The Greek hero loyally refuses to understand the disgrace-
ful overtures of his step-mother Phaedra, he is in consequence
denounced by her, and his father Theseus, a demi-god in
the toils of a girl, drives him away to exile and death.
But Diana, ever enamoured of chastity, restores the youth
to life, while the conscience-stricken Phaedra confesses
her crime. So, too, Puran is similarly tempted and accused,
and similarly condemned. For years he lies as a corpse
in a forsaken well, until the prophet Goraknith raises him
from the dead, while the remorseful Luína acknowledges her
guilty passion. The parallel is as nearly complete as possible.
In the tale of Mirshikāri, again, we have a charming
reminiscence of some of the most famous stories of classi-
cal antiquity. It is the story of Orpheus, of Amphion, of
Pan, in an Indian dress. The Panjábí word “bin,” which I
have translated “lute,” means either a stringed instrument or
a wind instrument.* Shuruf the Bard believed Mirshikári's
to have been the latter—the double pipes. These pipes,
frequently seen in the Panjāb, are precisely identical with
those which were used among the Greeks and Romans.
They are the tibiae pares, or, as Horace names them, the
“Lydian Pipes.” They consist of two separate flageolets,
the male and the female, the tibia dextra and the fibia
sinisfra, answering to the different tones of the human
* The Lodiáná Panjábí Dictionary.
JAWTA’O/DUCTIO/V. ix
voice, and they are played by the one performer at the
same time. In the Panjāb the upper extremities of these
pipes are often fixed into a small hollow gourd, which
answers the purpose of a receiver, and which is furnished
as well with a single mouth-piece. It is this instrument
which is used by travelling snake-charmers, and this too,
according to Shuruſ, was the instrument possessed by
Mirshikári. The whole story of the hunter-king, however,
is so redolent of classical traditional story, that I have
adopted the alternative meaning of bán, and given Mir-
shikāri a stringed-instrument—the lyra, which was really
the cithara, of Apollodorus—using the word “lute” as more
generic than “lyre,” and as being equally appropriate,
according to the beautiful lines in Henry viii...—
“Orpheus, with his lute, made trees,
And the mountain tops that freeze,
Bow themselves when he did sing.”
Of Orpheus we read that his lyre was the gift of the
god Apollo. In like manner Mirshikári derived his also
from a god—from the immortal Kwájá Khizar, the
tutelary deity of the Indus—a god whose prototype is
uncertain, but whose cultus in a rude way still actually
survives, who is thoroughly believed in and even Worshipped
by the Muhammadan dwellers by the “Father of Rivers,”
and whose aid is always invoked whenever the capricious
Current threatens to undermine their ancestral fields or
villages, -
J3
X IVTRODUCTION.
Then again we picture Orpheus, as he is so often pictured
on the domestic walls of Pompeii, sitting in woodland
glades, and enchanting all nature with the “ golden tones”
of his lyre. So too Mirshikāri, as represented in the legend,
is canopied by trees and seated upon rocks, ravishing with
the dulcet music of his magic lute the “poor dappled fools”
with which forest and woodland abound.
When we turn to the legends of the giants we find in
them a version of certain Stories which are diffused univer-
sally. These giants are monsters, man-eaters, human in
shape, demoniac in origin, who are a terror to gods and
men. At last (still confining ourselves to Greek analogy)
comes the deliverer Hercules in the person of Rasālu, who
slays them all but one, and who buries the survivor under
mount Gandgarh, just as in classical mythology, those of
the Gigantes who escaped the avenging arm of the destroyer
of their race were imprisoned under AEtna. Or, again,
Rasalu is Ulysses who invades the giant dwellers in moun-
tain caves, and at whom the one-eyed Akaldeo hurls an
enormous rock, which the hero receives with calm indiffer.
ence on the top of his shield.
This introduction would be rendered tediously long, if all
the coincidences of common traditional lore which the
Rasilu legends contain were examined and compared in
detail. In Kág, the raven, we recognize the fabled atten-
dant of the “father of the slain,” the ill-boding “bird of Fate,”
(Strong's Frithiof's Saga, Notes, p. 32). In the “flying serpent”
or dragon, which is doubtless the cobra, may be detected
JAVTRODUCTWON. - xi
es-----, --, ------ --------
that emblem of the creative principle in nature, or that
manifestation of deity, which was ever an object of terror
and worship all through the mysterious past. The manner
n which the legend represents the subtle destroyer hovering
over the faces of weary sleepers to draw away their life-
breath is strongly suggestive of the grim picture in the
Völuspá :—
‘‘Then will come the dim
And flying dragon ;
The fierce serpent from below
The mountains of Nida ;
He floats on his wings,
He hovers over the plain,
Nidhöggr, over the dead.”
Again, we have distinct references to charms and
incantations, to witchcraft and magic and the supernatural
raising of storms, to the foundation sacrifice of human blood
and to the headless warrior, to fables of monoliths and
superstitions of the prints of horse-hoofs in the solid rocks,
and to long-lasting periods of trance or coma, many of
the traditions thus indicated being extremely Scandina-
vian in similitude and character. Passing by these various
points of antiquarian interest, we may conclude this part
of the introduction with a few words on the subject of
enigmas and maledictions.
The riddles or enigmas which occur in some of these
legends must strike the intelligent reader as exceedingly
quaint and curious. In form and conception they are
"Old places revisited, or the Antiquarian Enthusiast, Vol. ii., p. 206.
xii JAVTRO/DUCTION.
precisely like those which have been handed down to us
from the earliest periods of history. Samson, in the Book
of Judges, has an adventure by the way. He kills a lion,
and when he sees it again, a swarm of bees has settled
in the hollow carcass. So he propounds to the enemies
of his country a riddle thus— -
“Out of the eater came forth meat ;
Out of the strong came forth sweetness.”
In a similar way Rasálu has an adventure in the forest.
He remains a mute spectator of all the calamities which
attend the death of his follower, and when arraigned before
his foes, he confronts them with the riddle –
“One was killed and two died,
Two were killed and four died ;
Four were killed and six died ;
Four were male and two were female.”
If we turn to the myths of classical history, we find tha
“mysterious songstress’ the Sphinx j folločos köov,-
.* * * “The Sphinx, subtlest of fiends,
Who ministered to Thebes heaven's poisoned wine,
Unnatural love and more unnatural hate”—
we find her puzzling the world with that most calamitous,
most sorrowful enigma of all — “What is that which walks
on four feet in the morning, on two feet at noon, and on
three feet in the evening?”
But there is another passage in the Greek which also
forms a very near approach to the riddles of the legends
which we are now considering. It is ascribed to Alexis
INTRODUCTION xiii
of Thurii, uncle of the famous Menander, who flourished
about B.C. 356, and the following is a translation of it —
[What is that which is] “neither mortal nor immortal, but
having some sort of composite character so as to have
the life neither of a man nor of a god, but to be always
growing afresh, and again incurring destruction, being invi-
sible to eyes and yet known to all men P
A. Ever thou delightest, O woman, in riddles. Who
then can this child be, having such a nature ?
B. It is sleep, O damsel, the soother of the labours of
mortals.”
Comparing these enigmatical curiosities of the ancients
with the riddles which occur in the legend of Rājā Rasālu
and Rājā Sirikap, we discover a decided similitude com"
mon to both the series. There is a simplicity, amounting
almost to childishness, which characterizes every one of
them, as, for instance, the question wherewith Sirikap hopes
to baffle his unwelcome visitor, “What is that which has
four beards, a blue foot, and a red neck P” And, if we
consider that the legends of Rasálu are also of immense
* Oü ÖvnTös odó d6&vatos, GAA’ exov Tuvá.
oriškpaguv, Öote pºſt ev čvöpúTov pépet,
pºſit śv 0600 (fiv, &\\á (böco-0at tº det,
kavvös q,0ſvetv. Te Tāv Tapovoſtav TáAvv,
dépatos é buy, yytºplp.os 3 & Tao-lv ćv.
A *A \ N / º Z y 3 /
tº et O’v Xalpels (o yuvat p, avvvypo.0 uv,
Tis of v Togo.ſtmv Taſs éY(ov čo Tat (bùorvº.
|
jº
B t/ A * / v /
i.e. yTvos, |Spotetov, (0 kopº), Tavo Tjp 7TO 1/C01/.
Aamage's Selected Passages from the Greek.
xiv INTRODUCTION.
antiquity, we must admit that the coincidences thus noted
are to say the least remarkable,
The last point to be observed is that which is suggested
by Rasálu's curse. How universal is that habit or custom
by which mankind, or at least the religious races of the
human family, and even the Deity Himself, are represented
again and again as cursing the innocent earth, or
the fruits thereof, in consequence of the occurrence of some
terrible calamity, or the perpetration of some devastating
wickedness “Ye Mountains of Gilboa, let there be no
dew upon you !” is typical of maledictions which frequently
occur, not only in the inspired pages of Holy Writ, but
throughout all history. And what is true of history is
true also of romance. How the crazy curses of Cassandra
in the Agamemnon toll in the ears of the reader Yet,
in this respect AEschylus was excelled by Sophocles, nor,
as it has been truly remarked, is King Lear itself more
horrent with bristling curses than the CEdiffus Zyrannus
which exhibits the awful spectacle of the blind old king,
pursued by a fate ever terrible and ever unrelenting,
uttering as he goes infallible cursings over the heads of his
two sons, already so dismally unfortunate. In that wonder-
ful tragedy there is one passage which may fitly compare
with a curse in our own Shakespeare's A'ichard ZZ, and
both passages may compare with the curse of Rájá Rasálu
That from the CEdiffus runs thus:-
Kai rajra Toſs på Öpóo w śćxopat Óeoûs.
piſt' (potov duTóts yis dviéval twä.
pīt oty yuvauków Taíðas.
INTRODUCTION. XV
“And for those who fail to obey these directions, I pray
the gods that neither any seed crop may spring to them
from their land, nor yet children from their wives.”
The curse from A'ichard //, is milder in character, but
the idea is approximately the same— - -
Queen.—Gardener, for telling me this news of woe,
I would, the plants thou graft'st, may never grow,
Gardener.—Poor queen, so that thy state might be no worse
I would my skill were subject to thy curse li
How strikingly alike are these woeful words of the un-
happy Isabella to the curse of Rasālu, when for the last
time he looks on the mangoe-trees of the lost, guilty
queen—
O flushed with fruit or bare of bough,
Fruit may ye never bear again ;
Dead is Koklán, her place is void,
And flaming red the fires remain ſ”
But when did this famous hero flourish, and where dip
he live P
To the former question no very decided answer can be
given. Rasálu's name is neither inscribed on the glowing
pages of history, nor does it survive on the enduring metal
of ancient coins. He lives in the popular memory, and in
the popular memory only. These legends open and close
the one volume of his life, which has escaped the ravages
of time and outlived the ruin of oblivion. The internal
* CEdipus Tyrannus, 269—27 I.
t Act iii, scene 4.
xvi Z/VTRODUCTIOAV.
evidence thus preserved is of two kinds—the probable and
the improbable. We must at once reject as improbable
such statements as that Rasálu was ever a convert to
Muhammadanism, or that in his time the Gospel of Arabia
had even been heard of. It was natural for the native
Panjābi bards, who in the eleventh century were compul.
Sorily driven into the Musalmán fold, to deck out their old
national hero in the trappings of Islám, if only to conciliate
their stern conquerors. But the legends themselves un-
doubtedly belong to a period long anterior to the age of
Muhammad, while some of them, as the legend of the
Giants, must be ascribed to the heroic ages of the world,
and to the very dawn of civilized political power.
The one point upon which the whole of the different autho.
rities are agreed is, that Rasálu, a Rājputt prince, was the son
and successor of Rájá Sáliváhán or Shalivhan, or as the bards
pronounce the name, Sulwän. Now it is well known that
Sáliváhán was a very powerful monarch, and that his era
began in or about the year of Christ 77. * The belief that
he attacked and slew the renowned Vikrāmājit is evidently
an error, since the latter king flourished B. C. 56.f It
seems certain, however, that he inherited or conquered his
kingdom of Ujein in the Dakkan, and that he overran
a considerable portion of northern India, including the
Panjāb. The legend represents him as reigning at Siâlkót.
History on the other hand affirms that his proper king-
* Elphinstone's India, p. 245.
t Brigg's Mahomedan Power in India, p. lxxv.
JAVTRODUCTIO/V. xvii
------> --- - - - -------- *****--
dom was the Dakkan.* Is there any evidence in the
legends connecting Sálivāhān of Siâlkót with the Dakkan P
Yes—Rasălu having consolidated his rule at Siálkót on
the death of his father, at once set out for the Dakkan,
where he encountered his adventure with Mirshikári. It
seems evident, therefore, that Sāliváhán of history, and
Sáliváhán, or Sulwān, of legendary fable, are one and the
same individual. If we assume that the year of Christ
77 represents the birth year of Sáliváhán, we may safely
<onclude that that sovereign expired about the year 130,
so that Rájá Rasalu, the hero of the legends, may be
asserted, with greater or less probability, to have flourished
in the middle, or towards the close, of the second century
of our era.
From this evidence it would also appear that Rasalu’s
kingdom extended from the Dakkan on the east to the
river Indus on the west. Though for many years of his life
he adopted the eccentric rôle of a knight-errant, wandering
throughout his diminions, almost, if not wholly, unattended,
bent on slaying giants, delivering captive princesses,f
and achieving exploits wherever he went, it is clear that his
favourite place of abode was somewhere close to the Upper
Indus in the territory of Rājā Sirikap, whom he had dis-
possessed, whose capital was identical with the ancient
* Elphinstone's India, p. 245.
† In the versiou which I published in the Folklore /ournal there is
a story of Rasálu delivering a daughter of Sirikap from her captivity
in a rock-hewn cell,
C
CHAPTER I.
RASALU'S EARLY LIFE.
Pája; Sulwān and his two queens. The fate of Puran
Bhagat, Rasdilu's elder brother. His prophecy.
Rasdilu's birth and boyhood. His release from
duress. His mischievous pranks and consequent
banishment. His mother's lament.
On third of the week he entered the womb,
On the sixth he saw the light ;
He was born a king both valiant and strong,
And Rasſilu was he dight.
great king famous in story, whose name was
Vikrāmājit, of the empire of Ujain, had two
queens, the elder of whom was Ichrán, and the
younger Luné, a tanner's daughter. By the former,
whom he had married first, he had a son Puran,
who by the advice of the astrologers was secluded
from the sight of his father in a lonely palace from
Rº SULWAN of Siálkót, a descendant of the

2 TAH E LA, GA:AWD OF RASA / U.
the moment of his birth until he had arrived at the
age of puberty. On his release from duress he was
permitted to appear at court, and his father on one
Occasion sent him to pay his respects to his newly
married wife, Ráni Luné, who was about the same
age as the young prince, and exceedingly fair. Puran
also was remarkable for his great beauty, and Ráni
Luné, when she saw him, fell deeply in love with
him. But because he loyally refused to listen to her
improper advances, she procured his disgrace, and his
deluded and incensed father condemned him to exile
and death. The executioners to whom he was com-
mitted, carried him far away into the wilds, where
they cut off his hands and his feet, and cast him into
a ruined well, there to languish and die. In that dis-
mal place he lingered for many a year until he was
rescued by the great saint Guru Gorakhnáth of Tilláh,
who restored his limbs to him sound and whole as
before, and showed him kindness and protection.
Prince Puran now determined to turn fakir, and
concealing his identity, he temporarily took up his
abode, by his director's advice, in a certain abandoned
garden close to the palace of his father in Siálkót.
The fame of his sanctity spread far and wide, until it
was reported to the King Sulwān that the very trees
of the garden, which had withered up to the roots and
died, were miraculously beginning to bud and to. put
RASA/CU'S FA /ø/ Y Z/FE. . 3.
forth leaves. So the king and his younger queen,
being both desirous of offspring, determined to visit
him. As they approached the spot, Puran said to
himself—“Here comes my father, and not only he,
but my stepmother as well ; if she should chance to
recognize me, she will again plot to work me ill.”
But being a good man he considered once more,
“Never mind, I trust in God. Whatever she does she
must account for hereafter; and so, whether they recog-
nize me or not, still out of respect I will rise and do
obeisance to them.”
When the king and his consort arrived at the place
Prince Puran, the fakir, stood up and bowed himself
humbly with his eyes fixed on the ground.
“Ah!” cried the king, “you have acted amiss; you
are a fakir, and it is I who should have saluted,
you.” - *
“O king,” answered he, “once I had a religious
instructor, and, as I remember, his face and form
were not unlike those of your Highness: this is the
reason I rose and Salaamed at your approach.”
Then the queen addressed him and said, “I also
have come to see you, for I have no children.”
“You shall certainly conceive and have a son,”
replied the fakir, “but your son's mother will always
be crying even as the mother of your stepson was
always crying. And just as by reason of the fraud.
4 THE LEGE AWD OF RASA LU.
contrived by you the son of Ráni Ichrán fell upon
evil days, so, though as a mighty king vowed to
chastity your son shall conquer his foes, yet he
shall at last perish through the falsehood and guile
of a woman.”
In due time the promised son was born into the
world, and the king named him Rasál or Rasálu.
Sorrow and heaviness attended his birth, for the con-
junction of his stars presaged a life of storm and
strife perilous to the State, and the astrologers pro-
phesied evil to the king on account of him. Scarcely
had he opened his eyes on the world, therefore, when
he was banished to a solitary place, and, like his
half-brother Puran before him, he was not permitted
to see his father for twelve weary years. As he
advanced in growth, however, he enjoyed a foretaste
of his future glory in the stories of kings and heroes,
which were recited or sung to him day by day by
bards and minstrels, until the very name of war and
the sound of arms tingled in his ears like music. All
that was suitable to his position and agreeable to his
destiny he practised and learnt ; but most of all he
excelled in magic, in archery, in riding, and in the use
of the Sword and lance, while the pleasures of chess-
playing and deer-hunting filled up his lighter hours.
Thus passed the early boyhood of Prince Rasálu,
until he was free to approach the capital and to set
RASA LU'S EARLY LIFE. 5
foot over his father's threshold. He was remarkably
strong and agile for his years, more like a man than
a boy; and he was skilled in every generous ac-
complishment, and in every warlike exercise. Yet
there was then one pastime which, beyond all others,
he was fond of indulging in, and that pastime was
shooting marbles from the pellet-bow. He used to
watch for the women of the city as they returned
from the river bearing on their heads full chatties or
pitchers of water, and shooting his hard pellets with
an unerring aim from the walls of the palace, he
would break the pitchers into atoms, and laugh gaily
when he saw the released water pouring down in
floods over their shoulders. At last his victims made
complaint to the wazir, and the wazir complained to
the king ; and as the prince had been warned again
and again, he proposed his banishment. But the king
answered, “One son of mine I dismissed to exile and
death before, for which I shall for ever mourn. See,
here is my treasury, take money sufficient for the
purpose, and let the women of the city be provided
with vessels of brass.” Moreover he laid his com-
mands on his son that he should cease to molest
them.
But if the women imagined that their pitchers of
brass would make the slightest difference, they were
Soon undeceived, for Rasálu fashioned a bow of steel,
6 THE ZEGF/VD OF RASA / U.
and cast him pellets of iron ; and so great was his
strength of arm that, with faultless aim, be drove
his bullets right through the brazen pitchers even
when full charged with water. In dismay the people
turned their steps again to the palace, and in answer to
their prayers the wazir once more proposed the
banishment of the prince. -
“Nay,” answered the king, “this is my only son ;
he must not be sent away. I therefore order that in
every enclosure in the city a well shall be sunk, so
that the women of each household may draw their
abundance of water undisturbed.”
So, in accordance with the king's directions, numer-
ous wells were built throughout the city, and the
inhabitants fondly reckoned on supplying their needs
in freedom and quiet. But again they were dis-
appointed, for the irrepressible prince ascended to
the top of a high tower which commanded every
homestead and walled enclosure within the gates,
and from that vantage ground he continued to dis-
charge his mimic artillery at the brazen pitchers to
the despair of the unfortunate owners.
Then was the king importuned for the last time
either to banish or to put to death his rebellious
son; and his patience being at length exhausted, he
answered, “Would to God Rasálu had never been
born, or that even now he were taken away ! Let
RASA/LU'S EARLY LIFE. . 7
him leave my country, let him go wheresoever he
pleases, but let me never look upon his face again.”
And to his mother Luné he said, “ Tell that son of
thine to quit my kingdom and never to enter it more.”
Full of distress the queen sent for Rasālu and said -
to him, “Henceforth, my son, we shall be as strangers,
for the king has pronounced your doom. You must
leave your mother, your home, and your country,
and go into exile.”
“But why,” asked the prince, “am I to leave
you, mother, and why must I quit the country P What
crime have I committed P Speak to the king, my
father, and let him declare for what fault I am
deserving of exile.”
That night the queen entreated the king for her son
with repeated Solicitations and tears, but he, when
roused, being a man of implacable temper, steadily
refused to listen to her prayers, saying, “Rasálu's
crime admits of no extenuation, he has plunged the
people into distress in the matter of water, and his
exile is the only remedy.”
When the prince heard that his fate was irrevo-
cable, he sought his father's presence and insolently
said to him—“I will obey you in all things if on
your side you will accept my two conditions. The
first is, that you make me a Mussalmán ; and the
next is that you become a Mussalmán yourself.”
8 THAZ / EGE/VD OF ACASA / U.
Hearing these words the king lost control of himself,
and in a fury he ordered his son to instantly quit the
palace. At the same time he sent for his ministers and
said to them, “Set up a figure fashioned like a man with
his hand behind his back, and let the face of the figure
be blackened. By this symbol my son will understand
that he is doomed to perpetual banishment.”
One day, as Rasálu was returning from the chase,
he caught sight of the figure standing without his
mother's palace, and, turning to his followers he
said: “This statue is a sign that I must quit the
kingdom. Lo, the goodness of the king my father
We are the descendants of the great King Vikrámájit
who sold himself away in charity three hundred
times; and for a mere trifle my father decrees my
banishment. Nevertheless I will obey.”
So he gathered together a chosen band of valiant
men, the flower of the youth of Siâlkót, and armed
them with bows, lances and Swords. He also pro-
vided himself with fleet horses and ample treasure,
and when all was ready, he mounted his famous
mare Bhauñrá-Iráki, which was born on the same day
as himself, and, passing under the windows of his
mother's palace, he bade her a long farewell, and
set out from the city at the head of his followers, all
eagerly bent on foray and spoil.
But the Ráni Luné, weeping and beating her
RASALUS EARLY LIFE. 9
breast, looked out from her lattice, and watched
the retreating figure of her son as he rode away into
the wilds. There she remained straining her eyes,
until a distant cloud of dust alone indicated the
route which he had taken, and, as she watched and
wept, she stretched out her hands, and cried
through her falling tears —
“O little, little can I see of you,
- My son Rasālu !
Your crest the rolling dust obscures from view,
- My own Rasālu !
With knives of hardened steel my heart is riven,
It burns like flames within the furnace driven,
- O hear, Rasilu !
Whose son goes forth to exile, storm, and strife,
How doubly, trebly vain that mother's life ſº
l3

CHAPTER II.
RASALU'S FIRST TRIUMPHS.
His visit to Gujerdt. His expedition against the
Princes of Jhilam. His adventure with the hermit
of Tillih. The hermit's prophecy.
Hº turned his back upon his native land,
Rājā Rasalu marched towards the kingdom
of Gujerāt. Wherever he encamped on his
route the whole Country was made aware that he
was bound on an expedition of adventure, and that
he would enroll all good men and true who would
join his standard. Thus, by the time he arrived at the
capital of Gujerāt he found himself in command of
a strong force of hardy warriors, all eager to do
battle for their youthful leader.
The King of Gujerät was a Gujar, the head of a
race of Rájputs in alliance with the house of Siálkót,
and friendly to Rájá Sulwān. Hearing that a foreign
force had encamped within sight of his walls, he went

RASA LU'S FIRST TRIUMA) H.S. I I
forth to hold a parley with them, and, when he
met Rasalu, he addressed him courteously saying,
“Who are you ?—
“What Rájá's son are you,
And say what name you bear ;
Where lies your fatherland,
What city owns you there 7”
And to him Rasalu made answer—
“Rájáh Sulwān's son am I,
Rasilu is my name ;
Siálkót is my fatherland,
My city is the same.”
Then was Rasalu received and welcomed with
befitting honour, and festivities were held to cele-
brate his arrival at Gujerāt.
“But,” said the Gujar king, “you are heir to a
kingdom ; why then do I see you at the head of an
army so far away from your own dominions P”
“Near Jhilam,” answered Rasálu, “there is a terri-
tory containing numbers of giants who have been
turned into stone, but it is held by usurpers. Of
that country my father claims a fourth share, as
being near of kin to the former rājās; and, as his
rights are denied, I am now on my way to maintain
them, and to recover my patrimony.”
Then the Gujar king offered help to Rasálu, saying,
“Take with you a contingent of my troops, chosen
marksmen, with arms and munitions of war, and go,
I 2 THE LEGEND OF RASALU.
and prosper against your enemies.” And to his own
men he said, “Go, fight for Rājā Rasálu, and do not
return until you are dismissed.”
When the prince arrived at the land of the Petri-
fied Ones he at once began his warlike operations ;
besieging forts, throwing up earthworks, and cutting
off supplies. Rasálu's strength was that of a giant ;
his bow, made out of steel, could be drawn by 11 O Oil C.
but himself, and he had three arrows, each of them
weighing a hundred pounds, which never failed to
hit, and which he never failed to recover.
After a short blockade the principal fortress was
carried by storm, and the city fell into the hands of
Rasálu. Much spoil was taken, gold, and silver, and
precious stones, and splendid raiment, and many a
fair damsel, all of which was divided among his
captains and men-of-war. -
Then, while the petty princes fled away, or else
submitted, and consented to acknowledge Rasálu as
lord and master, the kingdom was reduced to order,
laws were enforced, and under chosen governors pros-
perity once more smiled on the land.
It was during his halt at Jhilam that Rājā Rasálu
heard of the famous hermit, or saint, whose abode
was at the village of Tilláh, and as this man's repu-
tation for working miracles and signs was in every-
body's mouth, he determined to pay him a visit. The
RASALU's FIRST TRIUMPHS. I3
hermit's power was so great, that he knew of the
king's approach long before he came to the foot of
the hill on which he lived, and addressing his disci-
ples he said, “Rājā Rasálu is at hand with purpose
to put my knowledge to the test. But, as he is the
son of a Hindu, he ought to have known his duty
better. However, I will anticipate him, and test him,
and we shall see whether his own power is so great
as rumour asserts.”
His pupils answered him, “True, O master; they
say his arrow is so strong and swift that it will pierce
a stone. Therefore divine something.”
The hermit then turned himself into an immense
hungry tiger, and when the king's followers saw the
wild beast prowling round about the house, they
were alarmed, and said “See, so great is the power of
this hermit that even the very tigers acknowledge
his sway. Come, let us return l’’
But Rájá Rasálu answered sternly, “He is a wise
man who will finish an enterprise ; the foolish are
they who falter and admit failure.” -
Then the king challenged the tiger, and said, “Yo
are indeed a mighty full grown tiger, but I am a
Rájput. Come, let us do battle together ſ”
In reply, the tiger uttered a terrific growl like the
roar of a coming earthquake, and crouching down,
he prepared to spring. But Rasálu fitted two of his
THE LEGE/VD OF RASA LU.
tremendous arrows to his bow of steel, when imme-
diately the tiger was confounded with fright and
vanished away.
The king now went forward to the house of this
famous hermit, whom he found sitting calmly in the
midst of his disciples, and who at once arose and
made a respectful Salutation to one who was more
powerful than himself.
“Pretty hermit this,” cried the king, “to stand
up to me or to any one P”
The Saint, feeling irritated and ashamed, said,
“O King, this hill is only the abode of poor anchor-
ites. It is not Gandgarh, which is the home of
giants. If you engaged the famous giants of Gand-
garh, and if you slew them, you would achieve glory
and renown ; but there can be no renown and no
glory in lording it over hermits.”
“O Sir,” answered the King, “you taunt me. Now,
as I am a descendant of the great King Vikrámájit,
I vow never to abide in my home in peace, until
I have conquered the giants whose praises you
publish so loudly.”
“As for me,” said the appeased prophet, “I can
only pray for your success in an enterprise so fraught
with hazard and adventure. Yet, by my power of
divination, I foretell that you will prosper and over-
come them, if you will remember and do what I
A’ASAJ. U/?.S. A.I.A'S 7" 7"/"/U//PA/S. I 5
bid you —First, draw not your sword against the
innocent ; and next, lift not your hand to shed the
blood of a woman.”
Then Rājā Rasālu left that place, and continued
his journey.

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CHAPTER III.
RASALU'S RETURN FROM EXILE. -
His visit to Mecca. His reception by the Hagrat. He
becomes a Muhammadan. News from Sid/koſt. The
fallen walls, and the ſkuman sacrifice. Zabéro's
appeal to the Hagraſſ. Invasion of Sidlkół. Capture
of the city. Death of Su/wdºn and Rasdilu's succes-
J. 2072.
‘īj AVING subdued the princes in the borders
$Y | | | A of Jhilam and set up a government of his
own, Rājā Rasálu again set out to look for
adventures.
Wandering he knew not whither, he at last came
to a noble city having walls and towers, and going to
the gates he enquired “Who is the chief of this place P”
“This,” answered the watchmen, “is the city of
Mecca, and the chief of Mecca is the Hazrat, Amām
Ali Lák.”
“Now is the finger of God made manifest,” said
Rasálu, and, riding through the gates, he approached

RASA LU'S AºA2TU/CAV FA’OAM EX/Z.E. I7
the chief's abode and stood without, requesting an
interview. -
When the Hazrat understood that a stranger had
arrived to see him, he arose, and came Out, and when
the usual salutations had been interchanged, he said,
“Who are you ?—
“What Rájá's son are you,
And say what name you bear ;
Where lies your fatherland,
What city owns you there f*
And Rásalu made answer:-
“Rájá Sulwan's son am I,
Rasalu is my name ;
Siálkót is my fatherland,
My city is the same.”
Then asked the Hazrat, “What are those enormous
clubs which you are carrying P Are those your
weapons P” -
“They are arrows,” answered Rasálu.
“Verily,” said the Hazrat, “you must be a notable
champion, strong and doughty. Why then have you
come to see me, and how can I serve you ?” -
“I have come to your house,” answered Rasálu,
“to ask you for two favours, nor do I think there
is any one else in the whole world who can grant them
besides yourself.” -
“What are they 2” enquired the Hazrat.
I8 THE LAEGE/VD OF RASA LU.
“The first,” replied Rasalu, “is, that of your
goodness you will join me in war against the king of
Siálkot, and the next is, that you will admit me
with your own hands to Muhammadanism.”
The Hazrat at once professed his readiness to
assist his visitor in every way, and, having made him a
Mussalmán, he said, “In a short time your father will
be subdued, and he also will become a Mussalmán.”
But Rasálu said, “Sir, Rājā Sulwān is a great
king, possessed of unbounded power, and Com-
manding a great army, and do you think so mighty
a prince is to be subdued so easily P I fear he will
never be conquered by you.”
“Do not trouble yourself,” replied the Hazrat.
“The King of Siálkót will be conquered far more
easily than you imagine.”
As they were thus conferring together a certain
astrologer arrived at Mecca, and entering the court he
was greeted by the Hazrat, who said, “What news
to-day P”
“Sad news,” answered the astrologer. “One of the
walls of the fort of Siâlkót has fallen, and tyranny
is rife within the city.”
“Let us abide in patience,” said the Hazrat, “and
let us see what will come to pass next.”
So Rasālu took up his abode at Mecca, and there
he remained, waiting for a sign from the Hazrat,
RASA LU'S RE 7"URAW FROM EX/Z.E. I9
As the wizard had spoken, so had events proved.
Many of the walls and bastions of the fort of Siâlkót
had crumbled in dust to the ground, and the king
made proclamation that the work should be restored
forthwith. Three times the builders essayed the task,
laying stone upon stone both night and day, and
three times the work again collapsed in hopeless ruin.
Then Rājā Sulwān sent for all the magicians of
Siâlkót, and for all his wise men, and said to them,
“Why will not the walls stand P” and they answered,
“If the head of your son Rasálu, or the head of the
son of the woman Zabéro, be taken off, and laid beneath
the foundations, then the walls will surely abide.”
Having received their answer, the king said, “Rasálu
is not in the realm. Would that he were ! But since
that rebellious one is absent, go find the Son of the
old woman Zabéro, and bring him before me.”
At once some soldiers were despatched to Search
for the lad throughout the city, and in due time he
was found, and roughly dragged before the king.
He was a youth aged about fifteen, and Rājā Sul-
wān observed that on his arm he wore a gainá, which
is a nuptial bracelet composed of a betel-nut, an iron
ring, and a cowrie, tied with Scarlet thread, and that
his head was adorned with a se/rā, or nuptial garland
of flowers.
“Why,” said the king, “are you thus decked out P”
2O ZTAZAZ Z/ZGAZAVNO OF AZASA / U.
“To day,” answered the lad, “is my wedding day.”
“It makes no difference,” cried the king. “Away
with him, and bring me his head without delay !”
Then was the lad seized by the executioners, and led
away to be beheaded. And when his head was cut off,
it was laid down before the feet of the king, who
Ordered it to be embedded in the foundations of the
new walls. The king's orders were at once carried
out, the head was built into the foundations, and the
people then completed the work, which remained
standing, firm and solid as a rock. .
But Zabéro, the old woman, when she witnessed
the murder of her son, fell to weeping and crying,
and she began to pull out her hair, and to throw dust
on her head, and she left the country, and went
lamenting and complaining towards Mecca. After a
long and difficult journey she reached the city, and,
when the Hazrat saw her, he enquired about her
trouble, saying “What evil has fallen upon you, O
woman, that you seem distracted with grief?”
“My only son,” said she, “has been cruelly killed
by the tyranny of Rájá Sulwān.”
Then said the Hazrat, “Have patience. After seven
days I shall march, for your sake, against Siâlkót,
and with Rājā Rasálu I will wage war on Sulwān.”
On the seventh day the Hazrat put all his forces in
motion, and joined by Rasālu he set out for the king-
AºASA LU'S RE 7'UR/V FROM Aº X/ZAZ. 2 I’
*=º-
dom of Siâlkót. As they marched along Rasalu and
the old woman Zabéro conferred together, and one of
them remarked to the other, “The Hazrat's army
is a very small one. What will he do against so
great a king as Rājā Sulwān P I think he will
never be able to conquer him. Let us therefore
advise him that his best plan is to turn back.”
Now the Hazrat divined their thoughts, and know-
ing how they had been consulting, he said to them,
“What are you talking about P Do you desire a
more powerful force than this P”
“Yes,” answered they. “We think it would be
better.”
Then said the Hazrat, “Close your eyes,” and they
closed them. After two minutes, he again said,
“Open them again and look about you.”
When they had opened their eyes, and gazed round
about on every side, they were astonished to see that
all the trees, the birds, and the animals, fully armed
and arrayed, were marching along with them to battle.
And their minds being re-assured as to the power
of their leader, they dismissed their doubts, and con-
tinued their march in confidence and joy.
At last they arrived at the city of Siálkót, and
encamped without the walls. There the Hazrat took
Mírzá Nizām Dín, and sent him to Rājā Sulwān
with a letter, the purport of which was, “O Rájá,
22 - 7A/E ZEGAZAWD OF RASA.1 / U.
come and take back your son into favour, and
yourself become a Mussalmán.”
When the king read the letter he tore it to pieces,
and lifting his Sword he smote the envoy and hewed
him into pieces. Then, closing the gates of the fort-
ress, he manned the walls with his archers and slingers,
and with all his mighty men of war, and began to
fight against the Hazrat, Amām Ālī Lāk. Many an
assault was repelled Successfully, and many a contest
was fought beneath the crowded towers of Siâlkót
between the rival heroes on both sides. Seven days
the battle raged with undiminished fury, but the
besieging force failed to gain the slightest advantage,
for the walls were founded in human blood.
At last the Hazrat took his Sword, and shore off
his own head with it. Then lifting aloft the
dripping skull, he hurled it with both his hands
against the gates of the city, which instantly broke
into fragments, and flew wide Open. Rushing among
his followers with waving Sword, the headless warrior
now led them in a body to the gateway, where for a
whole day he fought with terrific energy, and where
the last desperate struggle was maintained over the
dead bodies of thousands, until the troops of Sulwān
were all put to the Sword, or made captives of war,
and the city and fortress had become the prize of the
victors,
A&ASA LU'S RETUR/V FROM EX/ZE. 23
It is said by some that Rájá Sulwān was tracked
to his citadel by his own Son, who said to him, “Either
accept Muhammadanism for yourself, andyOur king-
dom, or die l’’ and that the old king spurned the con-
ditions with scorn, when he was at Once cut down.
Others, however, deny this, and say that he perished
by some unknown hand in the general massacre. In
any case, the King of Siâlkót was found among the
dead, and buried as became his rank, and he was
succeeded by his son Rasálu, who ascended the throne
and formed a government of his own. -
As for the old woman Zabéro, she was amply re-
compensed, for the young king conferred upon her
in free gift one half the city, saying to her, “I cannot
bring back your Son to life, for that power is God's
alone ; but I can ensure your days from poverty and
want. Accept this grant by way of consolation ;
and now may you live in plenty, and end your years
in peace ſ”
After this, Rājā Rasálu, having appointed a regent
to administer the affairs of the kingdom, determined
to set out with Bhaunra Irāki, his horse, and Shádi,
his parrot, to seek for fresh adventures; and so,
leaving the home of his fathers once more, he went
away into the wilds.
CHAPTER IV.
RAJA RASALU AND MíRSHIKARI.
Rasdilu sets out for the Dekhan. His arrival in the forest
and meeting with Mårshi/Édºri. Märshikdri becomes
Žis pupil. Rasdilu's conditions. Märshiftdri and his
Queen. He violates / is promises. The fate of the
Buck and the Doe. The death of Märshi/Édºr?.
Rasdilu and Märshiéârâ's wife. He is accused of
murder, and acquitted. The burial and epitaph of
Márs/.2%dºr?.
6 w HEN he had established a new government in
Y. Siálkót, Rājā Rasálu set out for the Dekhan,
because he wished to meet and to see Mír-
shikári, the renowned hunter.
As he was riding along, his horse suddenly heard
the sweet strains of distant music proceeding from
the depths of the forest. “Sir,” said she to her mas-
ter, “what is that sweet sound which I hear, and
whence is it coming P”

ass-ms-ºs-ºs-
RA/A RASAZU AAVD MIRSHIKARI. 25
Then said Rasálu. “I have been told that there is
a certain king of the greenwood named Mírshikāri,
who sits in the forest playing on a lute, which was
given to him by the Water-king, the immortal Khwā-
jāh Khizar. All the animals, when they hear the
melodious music, come and gather around him to
listen. Then, when he finds a chance, he shoots
at them with his bow, and kills whatever game he
favours.”
Saying this, Rājā Rasalu with his horse, and with
Shádi, his favorite parrot, followed the direction
of the sound, and approached the glade in which
Mírshikári was sitting.
Now, Mírshikári had been informed by astrologers
that in the course of time one Rasálu would come,
who should be his master in magic, and fighting, and
in woodcraft. So he was always expecting him ;
and now, when he saw a mounted stranger approach-
ing, he enquired of him, “Who are you ?—
“What Rájá's son are you,
And say what name you bear ;
Where lies your fatherland,
What city owns you there 2"
And Rasálu answered him —
“Rájá Sulwān's son am I,
Rasalu is my name ;
Siálkót is my fatherland,
My city is the same. ”
26 7 HE LEGE/VD OF RASA / U.
Then asked the Mírshikári, “Are you the Rasālu
that should come P
“Yes,” answered the king.
“As I have heard about you,” said Mírshikári,
“so now have I seen you.” ~,
“What have you heard about me P” enquired Rasálu.
“The real Rasilu,” answered Mírshikāri, “carries
an arrow weighing one hundred pounds. By this
token I know you are the real Rašálu, and to-day, by
the grace of God, I have met you in the forest, where
I had scarcely hope of seeing you at all.”
Then said Rasálu, “What are you doing P Why
are you playing on this lute P’’
“It is my usual custom,” answered Mírshikári ;
“Every day of my life I play on my lute in order to
notice the animals, because, when my lute is playing, all
the animals of the forest gather round me to listen to
it, and then, watching my chance, I choose my Sport,
and shoot at them, and kill them, since I cannot live
without flesh-meat every day. But, O my Master, as
you have come to the greenwood at last, I pray that
you will make me your disciple.”
“So let it be,” said Rasálu, “but first, if you will be
a follower of mine, there are three conditions which
you will have to accept.”
“Whatever shall be told me,” said Mírshikári, “that
shall I observe to do implicitly.”
RAJA RASAZU AND MIRSHIKARI. 27
Then, said Rasālu, “The first condition is this—
Let no one know of my coming here, and tell no one
that you have seen me. The second is this—You
may go and shoot over three sides of the forest, the
north, the east, and the west, but on the fourth side
you shall not shoot. And the third condition is this :
On the forbidden side of the forest there live two
deer, a buck and a doe. On no account must you
kill them.” &
Then Mírshikári asked, “How shall I know which
of all the deer of the forest the two forbidden ones
are P”
To him Rasilu returned answer, “On the south
side of the forest those two deer live, and to that
side alone they resort. You will never meet them,
and you will never see them, unless you go there.
But if you do go there, and if you shoot them, you will
forfeit your own life.”
All these terms were accepted by Mírshikâri, and
Rasálu, having shown him his own mode of using
weapons of war, and of the chase, went away from
that place, and tarried in another part of the forest.
Then Mírshikári, after playing on his lute and kill-
ing Some deer, returned to the city, and when he had
eaten his food he went to his chamber, and there he
began to address Sweet words to his wife. In the
midst of their colloquy he broke the first condition
28 THE ZEGEAWD OF RASAZU,
imposed upon him by Rājā Rasālu, for he said to her
“To-day I have seen Rasálu in the forest.”
The woman turned round and said, “You are
speaking a jest. What, is Rasálu a madman, to be
wandering about in the woods P What a wise man
are you !”
Feeling ashamed and abashed on account of his
wife's words, he took an oath of God before her, and
said, “I have verily seen Rājā Rasalu to-day with my
own eyes.”
But his wife believed not his words, and she said
to him, “Hold your tongue, and do not tease so
much.” f
After a short time Mírshikári ordered his wife to
prepare his breakfast overnight, “ because,” said he,
“to-morrow I must be in the forest long before dawn.”
Hearing this speech his wife thought to herself
“It is useless to take So much trouble at so late an
hour. Everything can be got ready before he starts
in the morning.”
At the fixed time on the morrow she awoke, and
having bathed, she went to the cook-room to prepare
some food for Mírshikári, but she was astonished at
finding that there was no meat in the house. Then
said she, “Mírshikári will not eat anything but meat.
I must go into the street to the stalls of the butchers,
and bring two pounds of goat's flesh.”
RA/A RASALU AND MIRSHIKARI. 29
So she went to a butcher, and said, “Give me two
pounds of goat's flesh, and to-morrow I will give
you four pounds of venison instead of it.”
“At this time of night,” answered the butcher, I
cannot open my door. What you are, God knows,
Some witch, perhaps, or a gaintess, or, it may be, an
evil spirit.” “I am the wife of Rájá Mírshikári,”
replied the woman.
Then said the butcher, “If you are the wife of
Mírshikári, bring me the money, and I will give you
the two pounds of meat.”
In the meantime, while his wife was arguing with the
butcher, Mírshikári woke up, and he called and looked,
but, in the palace his wife was nowhere to be found.
For some time he waited, but he waited in vain, for she
did not return. Then, as it was growing late, and as
he was tired of waiting, he took up his lute, his quiver,
and his bow, and, without any breakfast, he went out
to his shooting. When he arrived at the ground, he
broke the second condition, for he chose the side of
the forest which had been forbidden to him by his
master Rasalu.
Having fixed on a place he sat himself down,
tuned the strings of his lute, and began to play. The
beautiful strains floated on the morning air, and
Penetrated into the depths of the forest, so that, as
Rājā Rasálu was wandering about, his horse again
3O 7THE ZAZ GEAV/D O/7 AASA / U.
heard the sweet woodland notes, and said to the
King, “Sir, it is the sound of the lute we heard in the
woods yesterday.”
“You are right,” answered Rasálu, “but my man
has not fulfilled my behest, nor has he regarded my
word, and now we shall witness the turning of his
fate.” -
Meanwhile, as Mirshikári was playing on his lute,
the two deer, a buck and a doe, came out of the
forest into the open glade, and there stood still to
listen. As they felt themselves drawn towards the
spot where the lute was playing, the doe said to the
buck, “Let us wait here and see. Perhaps it is
Rājā Mirshikári playing on his lute. I am afraid,
lest, seeing us, he will kill us dead, because by
means of his treacherous lute he has already done
much to empty the woods.”
On hearing these unexpected words Mirshikári
stopped his music, and glancing all round him he
saw a chichrá tree, covered with large green leaves.
Then moving softly to it, he plucked some of the
foliage, and having fastened it all over his body he
made himself leafy and green like the tree, and
taking up his lute be began to play on it once more,
and, as he played, he slowly advanced towards the
buck and the doe.
RA/A RASALU AAVD MZRSHIKARI. 3I
When the two deer saw him approaching the buck
said to the doe, “He is coming toward us for some-
thing, let us go and meet him.” -
But the doe said—“Do not move a step further,'
to which the buck made answer:-
J
“In the forest I was bred,
In the forest I was fed,
And the forest is my home ;
Some little leafy tree,
To discover you and me,
In extremity doth roam.”
Then said the doe to her simple husband :—
“In the forest I was bred,
In the forest I was fed,
And the forest is my home ;
Such a thing could never be
For a little leafy tree,
On two little feet to roam.
But the buck, being resolved to go forward, said :—
“In the forest I was bred,
In the forest I was fed, -
In the forest I abide ;
And, if hunger be his plea,
Or, if forced by fate he be,
We may venture to his side.”
“No, no,” cried the doe, “be well advised —
“In the forest I was bred,
In the forest I was fed,
In the forest I abide ;
By his acting I can see
He would capture you and me,
And our flesh he would divide.”
32 ZTAE/E /.A. GA2/V/D OF MEASA / U.
“O my husband,” continued she, “you should not
go nearer.”
Saying this, she stopped, but the wilful buck went
nearer and nearer, listening to the dulcet music,
and, when Mírshikári saw him well within flight of
his arrow, he took his lute between his teeth, and
drawing his bow, he shot at him, and the foolish deer,
being pierced by the sharp weapon in the shoulder,
fell to the ground. Then ran Mírshikári swiftly
forward, and drawing his knife he prepared to cut the
throat of his quarry according to custom.
But all the time Rājā Rasālu was watching his pro-
ceedings, saying to his horse, “ He has disregarded
my counsel; look and you will see the trouble which
shall shortly fall upon him.”
Mírshikári now lifted his knife to despatch his
victim, when the deer addressed him in reproachful
plaintive words, and said :—
“Thou tyrant thrower of the pointed dart,
Thine edgeless knife, O lay it by ;
But take the lute, the lute that pierced my heart,
And strike some chords before I die ;
O tyrant, sweep the trembling Strings again,
I fain would hear one fleeting dying strain P
Then said Mírshikári, “His death has been caused
by my lute, and I must therefore play for him
Something more. Yet I am in fear lest, as I play, he
may suddenly turn his head and gore me with his
horns.”
RA/A RASALU AAWD MIRSHIKARI. 33
So he sat upon him astride, pressing him down
with the weight of his body, and, thus seated, he
began to play upon his lute once more, while the
dying buck, as his life ebbed slowly away, listened to
the ravishing Sounds. --
When he had finished playing, Mrshikári laid
aside his lute again, and lifting his knife he passed
it over the throat of the buck, and let out his life-
blood.
After this, he looked about him for some water, “For,”
said he, “if the knife be not washed, my game will
not be fit for eating.” But no water was to be seen
excepting the heavy dew which lay all round about
upon the earth. So he wiped his blood-stained knife
in the grass, and, when it was cleansed, he held it
between his teeth in order that he might also wipe the
blood from his hands in the same manner. But it so
happened that no Sooner had he put his hands into
the wet grass than he was stung by a viper. Uttering
a loud cry he dropped the knife from his mouth,
which falling upon the serpent cut it into two pieces
So that it died, and presently Mírshikári himself, as
the poison pervaded his system, gave up the ghost
and expired as well.
Seeing this, Rājā Rasālu, who was watching all
these fatal consequences, said to his horse, “Now
see what will come to pass next.”
E
34 THE LEGAEAVZ) OF AASA LU.
After a little while the doe stole out from the
jungle to look for her husband, and she found him
dead. She also saw Mírshikári lying still upon the
ground. Then thought she to herself, “The hunter-
king has been shooting for a long time, and now
being tired he is taking his rest.” But venturing
nearer she espied the dead snake cut into two pieces,
and the knife resting close by. Then understood she
that her husband had been killed by Mírshikāri, that
|Mírshikári had been killed by the snake, and that
the snake had been killed by the knife.
Having looked upon this dismal spectacle, she said
to herself, “Now for me to live longer in the world is
useless, for God knows who may not kill me, or what
sufferings it may not be my lot to endure.” And she
began to wonder how she should destroy herself.
After thinking and considering she said, “O my
husband's horns, they are sharp as spears I shall
put straight his head and jump upon them, and their
points will pierce through my body and kill me.”
So saying, she set the buck's head upright, and going
to a little distance she leaped upon his sharp tapering
horns which, penetrating her body, ripped her open
and killed her. In her dying struggles she gave
premature birth to two little kids, a male and a female,
but they, after breathing the air for a few short mo-
ments, expired likewise by the side of their dam,
AA/A AASA LU AAVD ////ES///KAR/. 35
And all the time Rájá Rasālu was gazing at the
scene, watching every hapless circumstance, and he
now said to his horse, “Let us see what will come to
pass next.” -
In a few minutes, a jackal came out of the forest,
and finding so many dead bodies lying prone upon
the ground, he began to trim his moustachios, and to
leap and frisk for joy, saying to himself, “God has given
me lots of good things to-day! I’ll eat my fill, and sleep,
and eat again. But Mírshikāri is a strong man and a
famous hunter, and if he wakes up he will certainly
kill me. So my best plan will be to steal his bow-
String and throw it away, because then, if he should
awake, he would never without it be able to harm
me, and meanwhile I should have time to escape.”
Saying this, the jackal came silently towards Mírshi-
kāri, and taking away his bow and skipping into the
jungle, he endeavoured to break it. But the string
was made of twisted steel wire which proved too tough
for his teeth. At last, putting the side of the bow on his
hind legs and one end of it under his chin, he suc-
ceeded in slipping the wire, but the rebound of the
weapon was so sharp and so sudden that it tore him
in two, and the upper part of his body went flying
towards the sky.
When Räjä RaSálu saw the jackal's fate he laughed,
and said, “Let us go and look at them now.” Coming
36 THE LA G Jº AW/D OF /& A.S.A. L U.
to the spot, he said to his horse, “What shall we
do P What arrangement shall we make for the body
of Mírshikári P "
“Lay it on his own horse,” answered he, “and he
will carry it straight to his house.”
Then Rasalu lifted the body and was going to lay
it on Mírshikāri's horse, but the animal objected, say-
ing, “As he refused to obey your orders, I will
never carry him more.”
“At least,” said Rasilu, “guide me to your master's
palace,” and taking from the fatal spot Mírshikári's
turban, his quiver, his bow, and his lute, he followed
the dead hunter's horse, which led them on through
the grassy glades and the leafy alleys of the forest.
As they entered the city, Råjá Rasalu caught sight
of a woman standing at the Stall of a butcher who
was weighing out Some meat, and he overheard her
saying, “Do not longer delay. My husband Mírshikári
is waiting.”
Then Rasalu stopped, and said to her, “O woman
what are you doing P---
“You weigh the flesh within the scale,
But say for whom the flesh you weigh 2
The flesh you weigh will ne'er avail
The man who looked his last to-day.”
The woman hearing these words turned and said,
“Who are you thus cursing my husband P”
RAJA RASALU AAVD MIA'SHIKAR/. 37
“I am a king,” answered Rasálu.
“A wise king too,” replied the woman, “to curse
another man needlessly. It is no good thing which
you do.”
But Rasálu enquired of her, “Would you recognize
your husband's things if they were shown to you?”
“Yes,” answered she, looking up in wonder.
Then laid he down before her Mírshikári's turban,
his lute, and his weapons, and said “Examine and
see if these are your husband's.”
As soon as she looked upon them she swooned
and fell senseless to the ground.
When she came to herself she arose, and ran to the
palace of the king who was the overlord of all that
Country, weeping, and beating her breast, and Rasilu
followed her. There she cried aloud, “Sir, this
man has killed my husband Mírshikári.”
The king, hearing her distressful cries, ordered a
trial, and at the hour appointed one hundred men
were despatched to bring Rájá Rasalu to the court.
But Rasálu collecting them all in one place, covered
the whole of them under the broad expanse of his
shield, and then sent a message to the king, saying,
“Come and take your men from under my shield.”
When the king understood what a wonderful master
of magic he was, and how great was his might to cover
one hundred men with his shield, he sent other messen-
38 T///, // G /? WZ), O/, /ēAl SA / U.
gers, saying to them “Do not use force with him.
Bring him by solicitations and prayers.” . As soon
as they arrived they requested Rasalu to come before
their lord, humbly beeseching him.
“Willingly,” answered he, and when he entered the
king's presence, he said, “Why do you want me?”
“Why have you slain Mirshikári P” replied the
king.
Then said Rājā Rasálu, “I also will ask you a
riddle, and if you can answer it, you will know of the
death of Mírshikári : —
“One was killed and two died ;
Two were killed and four died ;
Four were killed and six died ; *
Four were males and two were females.”
But the king was unable to guess the answer.
Therefore said he to his ministers, “Go with this
stranger, whoever he is, and see if he tells the truth.”
So Rasalu conducted them to the forest, where
they came and saw all the six bodies lying lifeless
together on the ground. Taking up the corpse of
Mírshikāri they took it into the presence of the king,
who, having heard their tale, looked upon it and said
of Rasálu, “This man is telling the truth.”
Then Rājā Rasālu carried the body of his disciple
Mírshikári back into the forest, and there he laid it
down, and he dug a grave for it both long and deep with
RA/A RASAZU AND MIRSHIAEA RI. 39
his own hands, and buried it under the shade of the
trees. And over the spot he erected an enduring
tomb, and proclaimed to the whole city, “Whoso-
ever would go hunting, let him first go visit the tomb
of Mírshikári, and do homage at his grave.”
Having performed this last act of piety to the
remains of the hunter-king, he engraved on his tomb
the following epitaph, and then went his way:—
“King Dharthali, prince without a peer,
Took nought away for all his might ;
So this great world shall disappear,
As fades a star-bespangled night.”
* It seems safe to assume that Rasálu, before leaving the Dekhan,
revealed himself to the people as their new suzerain, the son and heir of
the deceased Sulwān. -

CHAPTER V.
RAJA RASALU AND THE SWANS.
Rasd/u arrives at a city. He shoots an arrozy thirty
miles high. The two crows. 7.heir visit to the sky,
and return. They shelter in a swan's nest. The
male crow's deceit. Ráſá Bh67's judgment. Rasdi/u
and the jacka/. A'asd/u and Bh67. The jackal's
subtilty. Ráſá Bh67’s admission. Recall of the
swans and the crows. Kasā'u's wisdom. -
<-->
| ASALU, in his wanderings, once came to a
N -
zº) \, certain city, on the gate of which he read an
inscription setting forth that Rasālu of Siálkót, the
son of Sulwān, would one day appear; that he would
shoot an arrow thirty miles high ; and that his reward
should be a turban thirty miles long.
There Rasálu determined to tarry ; and one day
in the presence of the inhabitants, when feats of
strength were being exhibited, he took one of his

RA/A RASALU AND THE SWAWS. 4 I
arrows and shot it towards the sky. All the people
stood to gaze, waiting for the return of the arrow,
but as it never came back they said,
“This must be the real Rasālu.”
Then they wove for him a turban thirty miles long
and proclaimed him as the real Rasálu throughout
the city; and, for his great strength, he was held in
honour of all men. -
The next day he entered on his travels again, and,
as he was walking by a river-side, he saw a crow and
his mate sitting fondly together, and he heard the
female bird Saying, -
“Please take me up to the sky.”
“No one can go up to the sky,” answered the male
bird.
But she insisted and said,
“Take me up as high into the air as you can.”
Saying this she mounted up and the male bird
followed her, and both went flying skywards until they
were Out of sight, and Rasálu wondering what would
come of this adventure, continued his wanderings.
The two birds flew up so high, that at last they
came to a region of rain, hail, and snow, which kept
falling continually, and the female bird, drenched and
terrified, cried, -
“For GOD's sake save my life, and take me to
Some place of shelter.”
F
42 TA/AE LEGAEAWD OF RASA / U.
“What can be done now P” said her companion.
“It is your own fault, why did you not obey me
there and then P”
With these words they began to descend, and worn
out with fatigue, they fell on to a certain island in the
middle of the sea. Then said the female crow,
“Let us go and look for some place of shelter.”
Searching here and there they at last saw a swan
with his mate sitting in a nest in the middle of a
tree. The Crow approached, and offered his salaams
to the Swan, who said, -
“What do you want, O crow?”
“For the sake of GOD,” answered the crow, “be
good enough to give us a corner to shelter in to
save our lives.”
“Although between you and me,” said the swan,
“there is no relationship, still, come in and take rest.”
On hearing this, the female Swan protested, and
said,
“I cannot allow him to come into my house. He
is a mean fellow, and Our kinspeople will reproach us.”
“He is asking for shelter in the name of GOD,'
said her husband, “ and I am therefore bound to
allow him to enter and rest.”
The crow and his mate then crawled into the nest,
and the Swan offered them to eat whatsoever his
house afforded.
RA/A RASA LU AND THE SWANS. 43
The next morning, the rain being over, the
crows stepped forth, and the male bird said to the
SWan,
“Dear friend, against the wicked you should always
be on your guard.” -
“He who will do evil shall suffer evil,” answered
the swan.
“True,” said the crow, “but whether a man do
evil or not, he should always keep the base and the
unworthy at a distance.” -
“What do you mean by saying this?” enquired
the swan.
“Do you not know,” said the crow, “that in a
single night you have robbed me of my swan-wife
whom I have tenderly reared for twelve years 2
You had better give her back to me.”
“Is this your return for all my kindness?” asked
the Swan. -
“I do not know the meaning of kindness,” replied
the insolent crow, “give me back my wife . Other-
Wise, you must either fight with me, or go to the king's
Court for judgment.”
“I have no desire to fight with you,” answered
the Swan. “Come, let us go to the king's court.”
All the birds at once set out and came to the
palace of Rájá Bhöj. When they entered the court
the king enquired,
44 TA/A2 /_/2 GAZAV/O OF A2A S.A1/. U.
–-msm-º:
“Why have those four birds come here to-day P
Bring them before me first.”
Then were they marshalled by officers before the
iudgment seat, and they said
85 } y
“Sire, we have come to you for a decision, con-
descend to listen.”
“What is it you want?” asked the king.
“Enquire from the crow,” said the swan.
“Nay,” replied the crow, “I do not wish to say
anything whatever ; please ask the Swan.” *
Then the Swan stated his case thus—
“Struck down by storm, and rain, and driving snow,
With cries for shelter came this crafty crow ;
In GOD’s great name he proffered his request,
We gave him all we had—our place of rest ;
But lo! when morning dawned, good turned to ill,
He sat and mocked us, and he mocks us still.”
Then the crow stood forward, and stated his own
side of the question thus:–
“One day upon the river-side
I chanced to take a stroll,
And there I found some creature's egg
Within a sandy hole.
“This egg I carried in my bill,
And cherished it with care,
I hatched it underneath my breast,
Till all my breast was bare.
“At last, the young one burst the shell,
No useless cock was he,
Or else he might have wandered forth,
And roamed the jungle free.
RA/A RASA LU AAWD THE S WAAVS. 45
“It was a female, and I said,
‘I will preserve her life,
When twelve years’ old she'll doubtless prove
A most deserving wife.’ -
“Then came this swan, struck down by rain,
By Storm and driving snow,
And begged me for the love of GOD
To mitigate his woe.
“I took him in without a word,
But, lo when morning came,
He cottoned with my pretty wife,
And vilified my name.”
Rājā Bhöj, having heard both stories, said to the
SWan,
“This crow appears to me to be in the right, so
hand him over his wife.”
The poor Swan made no reply, but gave up his wife
at once to the crow, and then he went crying and sob-
bing to a distant place, where he lived in a certain
Solitary garden.
The triumphant crow, leading out his prize, thought
to himself,
“As my new wife is so handsome, no doubt, if
I go to my own house, my kinsfolk will come and
Snatch her away from me. It is better therefore to
take her away with me to some distance.”
It chanced, however, that the spot which he chose
was the very garden in which the male swan was
already living, and So it came to pass that all the four
birds once more found themselves together.
46 THE LEGA2/VD OF RASA L. Ü.
One day it happened to Rājā Rasálu that in the
course of his travels he rode by that way, and that he
said to his horse,
“To pass the time let us look for some friend and
get him to talk.” -
Just then he saw a jackal, and making for him, he
ran him down, and caught him. *
“Sir, why have you caught me P” said the jackal.
“Merely to make you talk,” answered Rasālu, “and
to pass the time.”
Then the jackal seated on Rasūlu's saddle-bow
began to tickle them with hundreds of lying stories,
which amused them excessively.
While thus employed they approached the city
of Rájá Bhāj, when Rasálu told the jackal to be off.
“But,” answered the jackal, “it would be cruel to
leave me here, since all the dogs of the town would set
on me and kill me. You had better take me with you.”
Rasālu consenting, entered the city, and the
people seeing him, paid him Salutations and said,
“Who are you ?”
“I am Rasálu, the son of Sulwān,” answered he.
Hearing his name, all the inhabitants came and
surrounded him, saying—“This day GOD has ful-
filled our desires.” -
Thence Rasālu went to the court of Rājā Bhāj,
for whom he conceived a strong feeling of friendship,
RA/A RASAZU AAWD THE SWAAVS. 47
and dismounting from his horse, he entered, and sat
down. Then Rájá Bhāj called for choupaz and in-
vited his visitor to play. Rasilu, who had taken a
fancy for his amusing little friend the jackal, caused
him to sit close to him whilst he began the game.
First Rájá Bhéj, on his side, laid a bet of one thou-
sand rupees, and threw the dice, but his cast being
spoilt by the jackal falling violently against his arm,
Rasalu won. Rājā Bhàj became angry with the
jackal, but the latter said,
“Pray, sir, pardon my offence. I have been awake
the whole night, and, being sleepy, I touched your
side quite by an accident.” -
Once more Réjá Bhàj laid and began to play,
but his cast of the dice was again balked by the
jackal falling as before against his side. Then cried
Rájá Bháj—
“Is there any one there P Ho! some one cut this
jackal to pieces !”
“I have been awake the whole night,” said the
jackal, excusing himself again, “forgive me, as I have
not committed this fault wilfully.”
“What is this talk about your being awake the
whole night,” enquired Rasalu. “What do you mean
by that P” -
“I will tell the secret,” said the jackal, “to Rājā
Bh6j only.”
48 TA/AE ZEG/E/VD OF AZA.S.A. Z.O.
“Tell me then, O jackal,” said Rājā Bhôj, “what
it was you were up to the whole night P” -
“Sir,” replied the jackal, “tormented with hunger
I went to the river-side to look for food. But find-
ing none I grew angry, and taking up a stone I threw
it against another stone, and from the two stones
came out fire.”
Having said so much the jackal came to a stop,
and Rájá Bhój said, “Well, what else did you do?”
“Sir,” said the jackal, “I caught the fire in some
dry fuel, out of which a small cinder flew and fell
into the river, when at once the whole river was in
a blaze. Then I, being afraid of my life on account
of you, endeavoured to quench the fire with dry
grass, but, though I tried my best, I am Sorry to
say, two-thirds of the river were burnt up, and one-
third only remained.”
Hearing this tale, everyone began to laugh, and to
Say, -
“What a fib Can water catch fire, and can dry
grass quench it P” -
“Sirs,” said the jackal, “if water cannot catch fire,
how can a crow possibly claim a female Swan as his
wife P”
Hearing this, Rājā Rasálu Said,
“Jackal, what in the world are you talking
about P” -
RA/A RASAZU AAWD THE S WAAVS. 49
“Sir,” answered the jackal, “Rájá Bhöj pro-
nounced a judgment in this court yesterday between
a crow and a swan, and, without due consideration, he
snatched away the Swan's wife, and made her over to
the crow. This judgment I listened to myself. And
now the wretched Swan is crying all round the
jungle, while the crow is enjoying his triumph without
let or fear.” “...,
“Can this be true P” asked Rasālu, to which Bhéj
replied: - g
“ Yes, this fellow tells the truth. I was undoubt-
edly wrong.” - * '
Then Rājā Rasālu sent for those four birds, and
when they came he ordered them to sit in a row
on the branch of a tree, and to close their eyes.
The birds did so, and RaSālu, taking a bow and
pellets, shot at the crow, and killed him dead on
the spot, saying, -
“This is a just reward for fraud and treachery.”
At the same time he restored the female swan
to her proper mate, who, delighted with the judg-
ment, extolled his wisdom thus :-
“All other kings are geese, but you
The falcon wise and strong ;
A judgment just you gave, and true—
O may your life be long !”
CHAPTER VI.
RAJA RASALU AND RAJA BH6.J.
Rasdilu prolongs his visit. His departure. Bh6;
accompanies Aime. Their conversation. Their adven-
£ure in the garden of Ráná Sobhán. They encamp
wnder some mangoe-trees. Arrival of Ráſá Hóma.
His verses. Rasd/u’s wisdom. Parting of the two
friends, Rasd/u and B/67.
Wºº Rasalu had spent a brief season of rest
M.A. W. & ‘ at the court of Rájá Bhéj, he requested that
king's permission to take his leave. But his
host, unwilling to part with him, said,
“As you have blessed my palace with your presence,
so you will confer on me a still greater favour, if you
will abide here a little longer, and make me your
disciple.” -
“In the same spot,” answered Rasálu, “my destiny
forbids me to tarry long. Nevertheless I will accept
your invitation and impart to you whatever I know
myself.”

RA/A RASALU AND RA/A, BHO/. 5 I.
So he remained in that city some time longer,
dwelling in the house of his friend, and teaching
him the art of fighting and wrestling. *
At last Rasálu set out once more on his travels,
and many of the inhabitants out of love and admir-
ation for him saw him out of their borders; but
Rájá Bhàj and his wazir, together with some few
attendants, accompanied him several days' marches.
As they journeyed pleasantly along, Rājā Bháj said
to Rasalu, -
“Pray, tell me, what in your opinion are the five
most cursed things in the world.”
Then Rasalu answered him,
“A thriftless wife who ruins house and home ;
A daughter grown whose head is bare and bald ;
A daughter-in-law of sour forbidding face ;
A crooked axle to the garden well ;
A field that lies across the village road ;
A man may search the world where'er he please,
And never find more cursed things than these.”
Hearing this answer, Rájá Bhàj was pleased ex-
ceedingly, and praised Rasálu's wisdom. And so the
two kings, engaged in pleasant converse, continued
their way.
At last they arrived one morning at a delightful
garden which belonged to the Ráni Sobhán, and,
entering therein, the whole company dismounted, and,
laying aside their arms, they reclined along the mar-
gin of a natural fountain of cool delicious water.
52 THE / E GAZAV/O OF RASA / U.
Scarcely had they taken their places, when they
saw approaching them, from the midst of the shrubs
and trees, one hundred beautiful damsels, all armed
with drawn swords. Rasálu with a smile then said
to Bh6j, . .
“These fair ladies appear to be very formidable.
Let us amuse ourselves a little at their expense.”
Having thus spoken, he looked at the girls and Said,
“O ladies, why have you come out against us with
drawn swords in your hands P”
“Whosoever,” answered they, “trespasses within the
bounds of this garden and comes hither to take water
out of the fountain forfeits his ears and his hands, and
is then expelled with ignominy.”
“Alas,” said Rasálu, “what dire mishap has
brought us here
Putting on sterner looks the girls then said,
“Have any of you touched the water of the foun-
tain P If you have, confess it, in order that we may
po
cut off your hands and your ears, for such is the order
we have received from the queen, Our mistress, who
has bidden us cut off the hands and ears of all who
dare to drink from her fountain.”
“O Fair Ones,” replied Rasālu, “we have not yet
presumed to drink. But, as we are merely poor way-
farers, do not hinder us. Suffer us to drink, and then
let us depart in peace.”
RAJA RASAZU AND RAJA BHO/. 53
“Who are you?” enquired the damsels. -
“As for me,” said the king, “men call me Rasalu.”
Hearing his name all the girls fluttered together,
and began to whisper among themselves,
“If he be the real Rasilu, he will catch us and kill
us. We had better let him go, and seize only the
Others.”
But Rasālu divined their thoughts, and so he said,
“If you let me go, O beauteous Ones, will you not
also release the others, seeing we are all wayfarers
together P”
Then said one of the maidens —
“Wayfarers number three, they say—
The brook, the moon, the shining day;
Of all these three,
Pray tell to me,
Who is your father, and who is your mother ?”
“It is true we are wayfarers,” replied Rasalu,
“but we are not so much wayfarers as world-tra-
vellers.”
“Indeed,” said the same lady, “but—
“Trav’llers o' the world are also three,
A sheep, a woman, a bullock they be ;
With quibbling words no longer play,
But tell me your name without delay.”
“It is evident,” said Rasālu, “that we poor fellows,
whether wayfarers or world-travellers, shall have fain
to implore your clemency.”
54 7A7A2 / / GAZ /V/O OF /&A SA / U.
“We have power of course,” observed the ladies,
relenting, “to let you off. But what answer shall we
make to our mistress P” -
“Go to your hard-hearted mistress,” answered
Rasilu, “and tell her this —
“Beside your spring three men reclined,
Your father's family priests were they ;
They saw our Swords, and, vexed in mind,
They rose at once and walked away ;
God knows their route—we greatly fear
They’ve gone to Kábul or Káshmír.
Accordingly, these simple damsels left Rasālu
and his friends, and going to the palace they report-
ed to the Ráni Sobhán all that had been told
them.
“Alas,” said the queen beginning to grieve, “it is
twelve long years since Our family priests were here
before And now, when they had journeyed so great
a distance to visit me, my foolishness has driven
them away. Who knows whether they will ever re-
turn again to me or not P’’
So speaking, the queen began to sob, and rising
from her seat she prepared to descend into the gar-
den with her train of belted maidens.
Meanwhile, however, Rasalu and his companions,
having rested sufficiently, had really left the fountain,
and gone on their way. Towards evening they halt-
AAJA /ēASA ZU AAVD AºAJA BA/O/. 55
ed at a pleasant Spot in the Open wilderness, where
there were some beautiful well-laden mangoe-trees,
and a fair babbling brook. Here they determined
to tarry for the night, and having dismounted they
sat down under the cool shady boughs.
Just then a deer appeared in the distance, and
Rasālu drawing his bow brought it down, after which,
a fire having been kindled, the game was dressed and
served, and every one with glad contented mind par-
took of the feast.
Now it happened that about the same time Rájá
Höm of Delhi had been routed in a great battle by
another Rájá, and that abandoning his capital he
had fled away with only a few of his attendants.
Coming to the mangoe-trees under which Rasálu
and his friends were sleeping the fugitives there
pitched their tents, and, having eaten a frugal supper
they all retired to rest. The night was very lovely,
and Rājā Hām's queen was lying asleep in her lit-
ter next to her husband's tent, while the Rājā sat
by her side. As he was unwilling or unable to sleep
himself, he began to gaze with a certain tender
melancholy, now at the slumbering lady, and now
at the shining moon. When some time had thus
elapsed, he called up his wazir, and said to him,
“I have just made some verses.”
“Pray, Sir, tell them to me,” said the wazir.
y, y - y
56 THE LEGEND OF KASALU.
Then Rājā Hām repeated the following lines : —
“No water's like the Ganges, river dear;
No light is like the moon, serenely clear;
No sleep is like the sleep that fondly lies,
So calm and still, upon a woman’s eyes;
Of every fruit that hangs upon the tree,
The luscious mangoe is the fruit for me.”
“Bravo!” cried the wazir, applauding vehemently.
“Excellently good, Sir, and right nobly expressed ſ”
Suddenly the silence was broken by the deep
voice of Rájá Rasalu, who, with his friend Bhàj had
not been so soundly asleep, but that he had over-
heard every word of this pretty interlude, and who
now mischievously interrupted the conversation
with |hese sarcastic words:– -
“In lonely woods I walk, Rájá,
I walk, a poor recluse ;
However wise your talk, Rájá,
Your friend’s a learned goose.”
“Who is that P’’ cried Rájá Hám with sudden an-
ger. “What means this intrusion on our privacy?
Ho, catch the fellow, and bring him here !”
One of the attendants approached Rasálu, and
said with some insolence,
“Get up, Sir ; how dare you interfere with our
Rājā’s talk P’’
“If you value your life,” answered Rasálu, “return
to your master at once.”
RA/A RASAZU AND RAJA BHO/. 57
*
“Why?” said the man, “Who are you, and whence
come you ?” - * ,
“I am Rasálu, the son of Sulwān,” replied he,
“and my home is the blessed Siâlkót. If you
are not a stranger to courtesy and to the customs *
of kings, and if you will request me civilly to visit
your Rájá, I may possibly go to him. But I never
yield to compulsion.”
The servant was astonished, and, returning to his
master, he reported to him all his adventure.
“Go to him again,” said Rājā Höm, “and entreat
him courteously to come to me. I wish to speak
with him.” -
Then went the attendant back to Rasilu, and deli-
vered his message, saying,
“Sir, Rájá Hám of Delhi sends you his com-
pliments, and would speak to you.”
So Rasālu arose, and, approaching the tent, he
saluted the king of Delhi with grave politeness.
“Are you really Rasálu ?” enquired the latter.
“Why did not my verses commend themselves to
you?” +
“However well expressed,” answered Rasálu, “the
sentiment was scarcely true. So I ventured to in-
terrupt you.”
“I may of course be wrong,” said Hóm ; “but if
so, doubtless you will correct me.”
H
58 TAH AE LEGA; AVD OF ACASA / U.
“Willingly,” replied Rasālu ; “the idea in my
judgment should be rather this —
“No water like the limpid stream
That ripples idly by ;
No light so glorious as the beam
That sparkles from the eye;
Of all the sleep that mortals know,
The sleep of health’s the best ;
Of all the fruit the gods bestow,
A son exceeds the rest.”
“How is that P” said Raja Hóm. “Let me hear
your explanation.”
“When you were born into the world,” answered
Rasālu, “who gave you Ganges water then P And
when, a thirsty fugitive, you fled away before your
foes, what good was Ganges water to you then P If
you had not eyes you might look for the moonlight
in vain ; if health forsook you sleep would forsake
you too; and, if you were to die fruitless, you would
die a barren stock, with never a son to succeed or to
perpetuate you.” --
Having heard this answer, Rájá Hám admiring
Rasalu's wisdom praised him greatly, and Said to
him, -
“Sir, you are undoubtedly right, and I was wrong.”
The next morning Rājā Rasalu embraced his
friend Rájá Bháj, and bade him adieu, after which
he continued his journey alone, ever Seeking for
fresh adventures,
CHAPTER VII.
RAJA RASALU AND THE GIANTS OF
GANDGARH.
Rasd/u's vision. He sets out on the adventure. The
dispeopled city, and the old woman. The woman's
distress. The giants' tribute. Alasdºlu and the 700-
man's son. Rasd/u and Thirrd. Flight of Thirrö
and Bhiºn. His encounter with the other giants.
His adventure with the giantess. Fate of the chief,
Bážka/Öath, and of Bhiſm and Thirrd. Thirrd's
lament. His imprisonment under Mount Gandgar/t.
The bellowing of Gandgar/. Alasd/u's arrozvs.
: AJA RASALU was once out hunting in the
ſº forest when overcome with fatigue he lay
down under a tree and went to sleep. In his
sleep he had a vision, in which he saw approaching
him five holy men who addressed him, saying,
“Get up, Rájá, and root out the race of the giants.”
Disturbed in mind, he arose and instantly set
off on the expedition, having determined without
delay to achieve the exploit. Many a league rode
the hardy king on his renowned war-horse

6O THE LEGEND OF RASALU.
Bhaunrá-Iráki, now over hills, now over moors, and
now through gloomy forests, intent on his arduous
quest. One day, in the depths of a lonely wood, he
reached a large city which was as silent as the grave.
He entered the streets, but they were deserted ; he
gazed in at the open shops, but they were all tenant-
less. Amazed at the solitude, he stood in an open
space and Surveyed the scene. Just then he caught
sight of some smoke issuing from a distant corner,
and making his way to it, he saw there a miserable
old woman kneading and baking quantities of bread
and preparing abundance of Sweetmeats, but all the
time she was either weeping or laughing. Surprised
at a spectacle so extraordinary, Rasālu halted and
said,
“Mother, in this solitary place, who is to eat all
that food, and why are you both weeping and laugh-
ing P” -
“You are a stranger ;” answered the woman, “it is
better for you to pursue your way, and not to ques-
tion me.”
“Nay,” said Rasálu, “I cannot bear to see you in
such trouble, and I would know the cause of it.”
“The king of this place,” said the woman, “is
Káshudeo, and he has ordered that a human being,
a buffalo, and four hundred pounds of bread, shall be
sent daily to a certain place for the giants. Once I
RA/A RASAZU AAWD THE GIANTS OF GA WDGA RA 61
had seven sons, of whom six have been devoured, and
to-day it is the turn of the seventh, and to-morrow it
will be the turn of myself. This is my trouble and
it makes me cry. But I am laughing because to-day
my seventh son was to have been married, and be-
cause his bride will have to do without him.”
With these words the woman fell to crying more
bitterly than ever.
“Weep not,” said Rājā Rasalu—
“Good wife, your tears no longer shed,
If God will keep the youngster's head,
I swear my own shall fall instead.”
But the old woman had not so learnt her lessons of
life, and replying through her tears, “Alas! what man
was ever known to give his head for another P” she
went on with her dismal task. . But Rasālu said,
“I have come here for no other reason than to ex-
tirpate the kingdom of the giants.”
“Who are you then P” enquired the woman, “What
is your father's name, and where is your birthplace P”
“The blessed Siâlkót is my birthplace,” replied he,
“I am the Son of Sulwān, and my name is Rasálu.”
Then the woman began considering, and she
thought to herself, “Whether he be the real Rasālu
I know not; yet he may be, because it is written, “One
Rasalu shall be born and he will destroy the king-
dom of the giants.’”
62 - THE ZAZ GAZAVNO OF ACASA / U.
Then Rasálu gazing round enquired, “Why is there
no one in the city P-
“Here temple domes and palace towers,
Bazárs and lowly shops abound,
But, silent as the passing hours,
Idly they lift themselves around ;
What luckless hap hath chanced the world, that all
Deserted are the doors of house and mart and hall P
“Let not this surprise you,” answered the woman,
“the people have all been eaten up by the giants.”
Rasalu now dismounted from his horse and having
tied him under shelter he stretched himself on a small
low bedstead and at once fell into a deep slumber.
Meanwhile, the young lad arrived with the buffalo
which was laden with the bread and the sweetmeats,
and when all was ready he drove it before him
through the empty streets and went out into the
forest. After a time the old woman came close to
the sleeping king and began to Cry piteously, so that
the king started up from his sleep and enquired the
reason of her distress. She answered him,
“Thou rider of the dark-grey mare,
Rasalu, bearded, turbaned Stranger,
O for some saviour to repair,
A champion, to the field of danger
I weep because those tyrants come to-day,
To lead my one surviving son away.”
Then Rasálu arose, and with a word of comfort to
the mother he mounted and rode off in pursuit of
her son, Having overtaken him, he said,
RAVA RASALU AND THE GIANTS OF GANDGA RA 63
“How shall we know when the giants are coming?”
“First,” answered the boy, “there will be a strong
wind with rain, and when that is over the giants will
come.”
Continuing their journey they arrived at the banks
of a river where the boy halted, while Rasalu descend-
ed to the stream to bathe. In his absence one of the
giants named Thirrá came down to fetch some water.
So huge of body and mighty of limb was he that
his water-skin was composed of the hides of twenty-
seven buffaloes, all sewn together so as to form one
vast receptacle, and he carried a bucket made up of
the hides of seven buffaloes. When he filled his
water-skin, the river absolutely groaned, so that Ra-
Sálu, hearing, gazed at it in wonder.
Thirrá seeing the lad and the buffalo and the full
load of bread grinned with greedy delight, saying,
“ Glad am I to see all these good things.”
Then seizing some of the loaves, he shuffled into
a thicket and began to munch. By and by Rasalu
returned, and the boy said to him,
“One of the giants has already come and has taken
away his toll of the loaves, and others will soon come
and eat me together with the buffalo. What is the use
of your advancing further ?” -
“Who is he that has taken away the loaves P”
asked Rasalu.
64 THE LAEGEAVO OF RASAZU.
“He is the water-carrier,” answered the lad. “His
name is Thirrá, and he generally comes first, and takes
his bread beforehand as a tax, which is allowed him.”
“Where is he?” asked Rasalu. -
“There he is,” said the boy, “in the thicket, eating
the loaves.”
Rasálu, sword in hand, rode into the thicket, and
going up to the giant he smote him and cut off his
right hand, and recovered the loaves.
Then, with a howl which was so loud and furious
that it roused his companions the other giants from
their sleep or from their labours and brought them
out from their dens in the mountain, the giant cried,
as he gazed at the hero's enormous quiver and his
threatening aspect,
“What man, what demon, are you ?”
“I am Rasālu,” answered the king.
And when he heard the name, the disabled monster
fled away, and reaching his home, he spoke to his five
brothers, saying,
“ Run, brothers, run—
“Here comes Rasálu the champion brave,
Let us haste and hide in the mountain-cave;
Whether prophet of God, or Beelzebub,
Upon his shoulders he carries a club.”
With these words and with many others of like
import he continued his career at his utmost speed,
and went and hid himself in the Cave of Gandgarh.
THE GIANTS OF GANDGARH. 65
A second giant named Bhitin hearing the dismal
tidings, and knowing, as did they all, that in their
sacred books the advent of Rasilu had been foretold,
rushed off to Kheri-mürti, where he entered a forest,
and having dug therein a deep pit, he got into it, and
crouching down, there remained in fear and dread.
But the other giants, namely, Tündiá, Mündiá, and
Akaldás of the one eye, remained with their chief
Bāikalbhath to engage in combat with Rājā Rasálu.
And to each other they were confidently saying, as
they awaited the hero's arrival,
“How will Rasálu manage to save himself from
Báikalbhath P”
Meanwhile Rasálu approached them, and when
they saw him with the boy, the buffalo, and the loaves,
they rejoiced greatly to think how rich and abundant
their feast would be. But Rasālu cried,
“Take care of yourselves, I am here to destroy
you!” -
“Who are you?” demanded they. “What is your
name, what is your father's name, and where is your
birthplace P’—
“What Rájá's son are you,
And say what name you bear ;
Where lies your fatherland,
What city owns you there 2°
And to them Rasálu made answer,
66 7 HE ZEGEAWD OF ACASAZU.
“Blessed Siâlkót is my birthplace, Sulwān is my
father, and my name is Rasálu—
“Rájá Sulwān's son am I,
Rasalu is my name ;
Siálkót is my fatherland,
My city is the same.”
“One snort of mine,” cried Báikalbhath, “will
Sweep you away.” -
At once the monster laid his forefinger on his right
nostril and blew with his left. Instantly there passed
Over the land a sudden and a thick darkness,
the atmosphere was filled with lurid dust, and by
means of magic and enchantment the winds and the
clouds rushed up from afar. Then beat the rain for
forty days and forty nights, and the hailstones Smote,
the thunders roared, and the lightnings flashed, and
the very earth was shaken.
“Now keep your feet, good steed,” cried Rájá
Rasālu ; and to the lad he said, “Here, boy, grip
well my stirrup and fear them not.”
And while the wind swept by with the force of a
hurricane, so that the trees were uprooted, the king
sat firm and undaunted in the midst of the tempest,
and never flinched or cowered a jot.
When the storm had driven by, and the darkness
had sped, Bāikalbhath boastfully cried,
“Now see if Rasalu is there !”
THE GIA A/3'S OF GAAWDGAA’A. 67
And as the light dawned they saw him in the same
spot. Then Báikalbhath, bursting with rage, Snorted
with both his nostrils, and it continued raining and
hailing with two-fold violence, and the storm raged
furiously for eighty days and eighty nights, so that
no stone, or tree, or animal, or bird, was left within a
radius of a hundred miles. And when this was over
Báikalbhath cried once more,
“Now see if Rasalu is there !”
And they looked, and still they saw the hero stand-
ing in the same position calm and unmoved as the
Angel of Death. Then fear and consternation filled
their hearts, and they were in a mind to flee, when
one of them said, ... --
“But if you are indeed Rasálu you will pierce with
your arrow seven iron griddles, for so it is written
in our sacred books.”
“Bring them forth,” said Rasálu.
And the giants brought out the seven griddles,
each of which weighed thirty-five tons, and, setting
them up in a row one behind another, they challenged
RaSālu to pierce them. Drawing his bow, Rasalu
launched one of his shafts of iron weighing a hundred
pounds, and drove it at the seven griddles, so that
it pierced them through and through, and fixed itself
immoveably in the earth beyond.
“You have missed "cried all the giants in a breath,
68 THE / EGE/VD OF RASA / U.
“I never missed in my life,” returned Rasálu.
“Go, look at the griddles and see.”
They went to the spot, and saw the griddles really
pierced, and the arrow stuck in the ground beyond.
Then said Rasilu, “Pull out the arrow !”
They all pulled and tugged, but not one of them -
could stir it, and Rasálu drew it forth himself.
“Of a truth this man is a giant,” said one, “let us
try him with some iron gram. If he will eat it, we
shall know that he comes of the blood of the de-
mons.”
Then the giants brought ten pounds of iron gram,
and gave it into his hands; but Rasālu, deftly chang-
ing it for the gram which he had in his horse's nose-
bag, began to eat before them, and when he had
finished it, he cried,
“Now look out for yourselves 1’’
Then chanting a spell he turned Bāikalbhath into
stone, and set off in pursuit of the rest. Drawing his
bow he struck first at Tündiá who went flying with
the arrow to Maksudabágh, where he fell and died.
Then with another arrow he smote Mündiá and
Akaldós who, with the arrow, went flying abroad to
Alikhán, where they also fell down, and there they
died.*
... These giants still stand where they fell—immense monolithic
pillars of granite,
ZTHAE GAA/VTS OF GAAVZ) GA MºA. 69
Having accomplished so much of his labour,
Rasalu ascended Gandgarh, and entering the fortress
of the giants he began to look about him, when
his glance lighted on Gandgarri, the female giant,
clothed in a rich dress, and sitting before a huge
fire on which simmered a capacious caldron of
boiling oil, for she was waiting anxiously for the
return of her brothers, who were to bring home a
man, so that she might boil him and eat him. As
Soon as she saw Rājā Rasalu, she leered at him and
exclaimed— -
“Ah, friend, I am charmed to see you. For a long
time have I been waiting for you, because I have
wished so much to marry you. But, first of all, if
you would do one thing, it would be better.”
“What is it P” asked Rasilu.
“It is merely,” answered she, “that you will walk
round this caldron three times, after which I will
marry you, for that is the custom of our religion.”
“I know not how to do this thing,” said Rasálu,
“you will first have to teach me.” -
Then the giantess arose, and began to caper and
frisk it round the Smoking caldron, but, when she had
compassed it twice, Rasalu heaved her up as she
passed by him, and tossed her over into the boiling
oil. There she was reduced to ashes, and, when her
skull split with the heat of the fire, so great was the
7o THAE LEGEAVID OF R.A.S.A. Z. U.
shock thereof, that it brought on an earthquake
which lasted for three hours. -
After this, Rasalu went forth, and found the lad
clinging to the Stump of a tree, trembling and quiver-
ing in every limb, not knowing, so great was his fear,
what had occurred.
“Why are you afraid P” said Rasalu.
“Because,” answered he, “the giants will come just
now and eat me.”
Said the king, “They have all been killed, or
next to it. Did you not feel the earthquake P”
“Yes,” replied the lad.
“That,” said Rasálu, “was caused by the bursting
of Gandgarri's head.” º
Right pleased was the youth to hear the good news,
and forthwith he came to his senses. -
Then said Rasalu, “Throw off those loaves, load
your buffalo with spoil from the fort, and get away
home to your mother.” -
“There is abundance of treasure in the deserted
city,” answered the lad. “I do not wish for any-
thing from the fort.”
So he went back to his mother, and arrived at his
home in safety. *-
Then Rasálu chanted another spell over Báikalbhath
and restored him to life, when the giant, seeing his
enemy SO close to him, tore up a prostrate tree, and
TAZA, GZA AWTS OF GAAWDGA RAE/. 7 I
advanced to kill him; but Rasá'u's horse made a leap
of fifty yards, and his master was saved. Then the
giant went flying to the top of the mountain, and,
liſting up an enormous rock, he hurled it at Rasálu,
who received it on his shield and sustained no harm.
“Never,” said Rasálu to his horse, “shall I be
able to slay Báikalbhath, if you do not bear me at a
bound to the mountain-top.”
At once the horse drew himself together, and
leaping into the air, he carried his master to his
adversary's side, when Rasilu Smote hard and
fiercely, so that the giant's leg was cut off, and he
fell and died. So perished Bāikalbhath, the king of
the giants.”
Never flagging in his labour, Rasālu now set out
for Kheri-mürti to hunt up the giant Bhitin. There
he discovered that he was hidden in a hole in the
forest, and he cried, saying,
“Are you there Bhitin P”
“Yes,” answered he.
“Why have you hidden yourself?" enquired Rasálu.
“Because I was afraid of you,” said Bhitin.
Entering the forest, Rasālu challenged him, and
having gathered together vast heaps of dry boughs,
and having thrown them into the pit, he piled them
* The footprints of Bhaunrá-Iräki in the limestone rocks are still
pointed out by the villagers.
72 ZTAZAZ ZAZ GZAV/D OA' A' ASA / U.
up, and set fire to them, and thus the giant Bhitin
was miserably burnt to powder.
Thence Rasálu proceeded to search for Thirrá,
but he was unable to track him. So he sent forth
Shádi, his parrot, who flew over the hills, and found
him hidden in the Cave of Gandgarh. Then, flying
back to his master, he said, “The giant is hidden in
the cave of the mountain.”
Going to the place, Rasálu saw Thirrá crouching
in the gloom of Gandgarri-ki-ghar, and he cried,
“Are you inside, Thirrá P'
“Yes,” answered he.
“Why are you here P” asked Rasálu.
“Because, sir,” said Thirrá, “you cut off my hand,
and I was afraid of you, and I have come in hither
to hide.”
Then, as he heard the approaching footsteps of
the terrible king, he ran further in, and, lifting up his
voice in a lament to God, he cried aloud and said:—
“Strange is Thy nature always, God most dread,
To Thee the poor and needy cry for bread ;
Thou givest life where life lived not before,
And those who live Thou biddest live no more.
My bark is drifting o'er the stormy deep, -
While all her crew are wrapt in deadly sleep ;
Azrael, the Angel, graspeth th’ guiding oar,
And, through the waves that hoarsely round her roar,
His shuddering freight he hurrieth to the shore.
O how can I foreknow what words of doom
Against my Soul proclaim beyond the shadowy tomb l’”
THE GIANTS OF GA NDGA RAI. 73
As he spoke thus, Rasálu approached nearer and
nearer in the deepening twilight, but finding him not,
he cried, -
“Thirrá, come forth !”
“No, no, no "roared the giant as he rushed further
and further into the depths of the mountain, while
the echoes of his voice, reverberating through the
vast chambers, resounded far and wide. But the dark-
ness then became so black and so confusing, that
Rasálu searched for him in vain. Therefore, at last,
he gave up the hopeless task and came out. But hav-
ing engraved a likeness of his stern features on the
surface of the rock just within the cave, he rolled a
great stone to the mouth of it, and fixed thereto his
bow and arrow. At full stretch, with the arrow fitted
to the string, hangs the bow, and from the arrow de-
pends a tuft of the hero's hair. Then, having closed
up the entrance he cried out to the imprisoned
giant,
“Thirrá, remember if you dare to stir forth you
will be killed on the spot l”
Thus he shut the monster in and there he remains
to this day. Sometimes, even now, he endeavours to
escape, but when in the sombre twilight he catches
sight of the awful lineaments of King Rasālu's pic-
tured face, and Sees the threatening arrow, and the
nodding tuft of hair, he rushes back dismayed and
J
74 THE LAEG E /V/D OF RA1SA LU7.
baffled, and his bellowing fills the villages round with
dread.*
So ended Rājā Rasalu's battle with the famous
giants of Gandgarh, and if you ask the peasants for
proofs of the story, they will show you scattered about
the country Rasálu's invincible arrows which still
stand where they severally lighted.--
* Gandgarh is subject to frequent earthquakes. Even when there is
no perceptible quaking, the internal roaring of the earth can be heard,
and this probably is the noise which seems to proceed from the hill.
and which is ascribed to the imprisoned Thirrá. The villagers how-
ever assert that the bellowing of the giant is quite a distinct sound
from the roar of an earthquake ; and that, as this peculiar bellowing
has not been heard for eight years, the giant Thirrá must have at last
expired.
t “Rasálu's arrows” often seen, by the writer are granite megaliths
like those at Maksiidabagh and Álikhán. Most of them stand eight
or ten feet out of the ground.
E-3
mºſthº
º
Wºr
º






CHAPTER VIII,
RASALU's ADVENTURE WITH TILLIAR,
THE SNAKE, AND KAG, THE RAVEN.
Rasd/it saves a ſledge/log from drozoning. He fakes
Žf zwith him. He at rives at a deserted palace. The
four watches. The hedgehog falls into the pool.
The king's life is imperilled. The hedgehog's con-
Žes: Zyzſtſ, the raven and the snake. His double vic-
tory. Rásália azvažes. His gratitude. The hedge-
Jog’s advice. 7%e friend's part.
º AJA RASALU once came to the bank of a
[NN river, where he saw a hedgehog being carried
away by the current. Addressing the king,
the little creature implored him to save him from
death, saying,
“O rider of the dark-grey mare,
Rasalu bearded, turbaned stranger,
A drowning hedgehog craves your care,
For God’s sake save his life from danger.”
“You are a hedgehog,” answered Rasālu, “and
I am a man. What connection there is between you
A. -

76 THE ZEGE/VD OF /&ASA / U.
and me I know not. But as you have abjured me
by the name of God, I will take you out of the river.”
As he spoke these words he lowered down one end
of his bow to the water, and by that means saved
the hedgehog from his peril. Then landing him
safely on the bank, he bade him go whithersoever he
pleased. To be left alone, however, was far from the
grateful hedgehog's desire. “It is not good,” said he,
“that you should now abandon me in this place.
To-morrow another flood will come, and it will carry
me away. If you will take me with you, it may
chance that I shall be able to do you a service in re-
turn for all your kindness to me.”
“I do not think your assistance will be needed,”
answered Rasalu. -
But the hedgehog pleaded hard for the favour. “I
beg,” said he, “that as you have now saved my life,
so you will not refuse my request.” -
“But where in the world,” said the king, “shall I
put you ?”
“Put me,” returned the hedgehog, “into your
horse's nose-bag.”
Rasálu then took up the little beast, and laying
him in the feeding-bag, he continued his wanderings.
As he was riding along, he observed a spacious
mansion, beautifully built and surrounded on all sides
with gardens, but it was entirely deserted. There
ADVENTURE WITH TILLIAR & KAG. 77
Rasilu dismounted, and sat down under a baherá.
tree, close to a running fountain of pellucid water.
At that moment the parrot began to say something,
when the hedgehog exclaimed from the nose-bag,
“Take me out, take me out !”
The king lifted him out, and then, addressing his
parrot, he said, “Tell me, O Shádi, what you were
going to say.” - -
“Sir,” answered the parrot, “it seems to me that
this house belongs to some demons or giants, because
I can see the carcasses of dead men lying all about
close to the walls. It is better that we should leave
this place, and go pass the night elsewhere.” -
“I have no wish to do that,” answered Rasālu,
“and in brief I intend to remain here. But tell me,
what monster is that which has killed all these
men P”
“Sir” replied the parrot, “what do I know about
them P Ask the hedgehog, since he has the look of
one who belongs to these parts.”
Then said the king to the hedgehog, “O Friend,
what monster is it which has destroyed all these
animals and all these men P”
“Sire,” answered the hedgehog, folding his hands,
“in this place live Tilliár the great flying serpent, and
his friend Kág the Sea-raven. They are confederate
in villainy, and, having come here, they trouble and
78 7THE ZAZ GAZAWZO OF RASA / U.
molest wretched wayfarers, and whosoever ventures
this way, whether he be hunter, or prince, or king,
they never permit him to pass the place alive.”
“What do they do P” enquired Rasálu.
Kneeling down before the king as if at his prayers,
the hedgehog meekly replied, “Sire, travellers who
come to this fountain, being overcome with fatigue,
lie down here and rest. Then this Tilliar, the ser-
pent, in the middle of the night, steals out upon them
and sucks away their breath as they lie asleep, after
which he goes away, and informs his friend the sea-
raven, who comes in his turn and pecks out their
eyes from the sockets.”
“Is it true P” said Rasālu.
“Yes, it is quite true,” answered the hedgehog.
Then said the king, “I cannot now strike my tent,
because I have already said that here I will Cer-
tainly remain. But you shall all act as I bid you.”
“We await you orders,” said the hedgehog.
“God is master over all,” said Rasalu. “He has
power to kill and He has power to save. But one
thing, in good sooth, you people should not omit to
do. Altogether we number four persons. Let us
therefore wake and sleep by turns, and thus let us
pass the four watches of the night in safety.”
Having so ordained, Rasálu again spoke and
said, “The first watch of the night shall be taken
A D VE/WTUA’Aº VVMTAſ T.I./Z/A A' & 9 ATA G. 79
* >
by me, the second by Bhaunrá-Iráki my horse, the
third by Shádi my parrot, and the fourth by the
hedgehog.”
Thus saying, Rasálu ordered every one to sleep,
and began his watch. When his turn was up he
roused his horse, and himself lay down to rest. When
the horse's watch was over, he woke the parrot, and
went to his bed. When the parrot's watch was over
he woke the hedgehog, and retired himself to sleep.
The hedgehog got up, and began to walk to and fro,
intent upon his duty. But the cold was so bitter that
he found it intolerable, and SO he went near to the
fire to warm himself. There, however, the warmth
made him sleepy, and he began to doze. Then
thought he to himself,
“I must not sleep, O no, I must not sleep, lest by
evil chance that wretched snake should come and kill
my master. I had better go and sit by the pool of
the fountain.” \
So to the fountain he went, but unhappily the
darkness was so dense that he could not distinguish
the bank, and down he slipped into the water, nor
was he able to get out again, though he struggled
hard and tried his utmost.
While the hedgehog was thus endeavouring to
regain the bank, the Serpent, having watched his
opportunity glided Softly to the side of Rájá Rasalu,
8O * THE LEGEND OF RASA ZU.
and drew away his breath. He then stole back, and
told his friend Kág, saying,
“I have done my duty. Now go you and perform
yours.”
These dreadful words were over-heard by the
hedgehog, who in an agony exclaimed, “O God, what
has happened P All this trouble has been caused by
my foolishness.” -
Then exerting himself once more he sprang out of
the water with all his might and main, and this time
fortune favoured him. Clambering up the bank, he
ran swiftly from that spot and approached the side
of the king, where he began to watch in the greatest
silence, even stopping his very breath. In a few
minutes the raven hopped up, and perched himself
on Raja Rasálu's breast. Just as he was about to
strike his powerful beak into the king's eyes, the
hedgehog having quietly risen, caught him by the leg,
and began to crunch it into pieces with his sharp little
teeth. Then jumping nimbly from his leg he seized
on his neck, and began to crunch that too. The
raven finding himself clutched, uttered piercing notes
of distress, and cried out most lamentably. At last
his friend Tilliar heard him, and drew near to observe.
“Who is that,” said he, molesting my brother
Kág?” -
The hedgehog made no reply.
-
A DVAZAVTO RE WITH ZT/ZZ/A/8 & 9 A AG. 8. I
“Who is that unlucky wretch who is giving my
friend so much trouble P” said the snake again.
Still the hedgehog maintained a dogged silence.
“Say, O miserable fool,” cried the angry snake for
the third time, “why are you tormenting my dear
friend P” -
Then answered the small voice, “I am a hedgehog,
and it is I who am tormenting your friend—I, the
hedgehog.”
The moment the snake heard the name of his
most dreaded enemy, he lapsed into silence, and
coiled himself together in shuddering fear.
“O snake,” said the hedgehog with mocking tones,
“why are you so very taciturn now P Say what you
have to say.” a
“Let my friend go immediately,” answered the
Snake.
“You had better come and render back my
master's breath immediately,” said the hedgehog, “ and
then perchance I may loose your friend." -
“Give me your word,” said the Snake ; “and if after
that you will agree to let my friend go, I will restore
your friend his breath.” -
A bargain was accordingly made and Settled be-
tween them. But the cunning Snake, anxious to
over-reach, was minded to deal with Subtilty. “I
cannot bear,” said he, “to listen to my friend's pitiful
K
'82 7.///, // G /º/VD OF /2ASA.1 / U.
cries. Therefore first let him go, and then I will
come and restore to your friend his breath.”
The hedgehog, perceiving his craſt, answered, “I
cannot permit this raven to escape out of my power,
but I will take care that he shall not be tormented
any more.”
“Very well,” replied the snake.
The hedgehog then snapped off the raven's head,
and laying him on one side he cried with a loud voice,
“Now call your friend, and see if he will give you
an answer.” **
The snake called to Kág, his friend again and again,
but not a word was spoken or a Sound uttered in reply.
“Ah,” said the hedgehog, “your friend was in
great distress, but the moment I let him go he was
overtaken by a sound delicious sleep. Do not there-
fore torment him any more.” -
The snake listened and listened, but as the cries were
not repeated, he thought to himself, “He has certain-
ly let my friend go.” He therefore approached the
pulseless body of Rājā Rasálu, and restored to the
king the breath of life.
As he was returning home to his den, the hedgehog,
who had crept away into the darkness to waylay
him, suddenly sprang out from his ambush, and
seized him by the head, which he began to crunch as
he had crunched the raven's neck
A D VEVTU/ē/2 W/TH TI/LAC/A/R & 9 Å. A G. 83
“O unworthy one,” cried his wretched victim, “do
not break your vow !” - -
“I am a wild beast,” retorted the hedgehog,
“What have I to do with faith or with vows P My
duty is to slay my enemy.” -
Then said the snake :-
“In former ages, write the sages
Snakes and hedgehogs were akin ;
Then cease your striſe and spare my life,
So God’s approval you will win.”
But the hedgehog answered ——
“In former ages, write the sages,
Snakes and hedgehogs burned in hate ;
O foolish one, your work is done,
Your own’s the axe that cuts your fate . "
With these words the hedgehog crushed his enemy
into pieces, and when he had laid his body close to
the pillow of Rājā Rasálu, he curled himself up and
fell asleep. -
/
That day Rasálu slept long and soundly, and he
was late in rising. When he awoke he began to
scold and abuse every one about him, saying, “ Why
did you not call me earlier P”
“Sire,” said the hedgehog in his humble accents,
(ſ º
look about you ; what see you close to your bed ”
( }} c D Tr iº -> • ‘
“I See,” said Rasālu, gazing towards his resting-
place, “I See a dead raven and a dead snake Crushed
to pieces.”
84 T///2 / EGE/VD OF AZASA / U.
Then understood he all the importance of the ser-
vice which had been rendered to him, and he was glad
and said to the hedgehog:
“O hedgehog, this favour which you have done to
me is past recompense, since you have saved my life
But you will be rewarded of God.”
The parrot and the horse also commended him
highly, saying, “O friend, you have saved our
master's life. May God preserve you in happiness l’
“Sire,” said the hedgehog to Rasálu, “I have merely
returned the favour which you did to me. And now,
if you will allow me, I will go my way.”
Very reluctantly Rājā Rasálu consented to part
with him, but at last, leaving him at that very spot,
he mounted and rode off. Hardly had he turned
his back when the hedgehog looked after him and
said, “Where are you going to now P”
“I am going,” answered the king, “to see Rájá
Sirikap.” -
“O Sire,” said the hedgehog, “be warned by me !
“Go not to Rájá Sirikap, for he is a magician, and
he will surely bring you into trouble.”
“Nevertheless, to Rājā Sirikap I shall go,” replied
Rasálu.
“If you are really determined to go,” said the
hedgehog, “take advice and act as I bid you.
Lying on the road half-way to Sirikap's capital you
A ZO WAEAV7'O'A'Aº lºſ//7/7 7T//_/.../A1/2 & 2 Å A. G. 85
will find the body of Rājā Siristik, his brother. Go
to him, speak to him, and follow his directions.”
Then the king left that place, and rode away to
look for the body of Siristik, the brother of Sirikap
the Beheader, while the hedgehog returned in peace
to his own country.

CHAPTER IX.
RAJARASALU AND RAJA SIRIKAP.
Alasd/u and Sirisiſ/º. Sirisilk zva/ºes and speaks. His
zwarnings and his counseſ. A'asd/it continues / is
journey. The zweazer and /ºis caä. The tzoo 77/ſage-
ôoys. Z/e old soldier and the goat. Alasd/u's arri-
z'al at Sirićt, Sirićap's magac Stor/as. A'asd/u
and Z/le castle-gong. Alasd/u and Princess //ºld/id/.
Meeting of the Aïngs. Their enigmas. 7/eir pſay.
A'asdlu's losses. A'asd/u's cat and Sārikap's ražs.
Sirićap's final defeaf. His fºrg/z and re-capture
The birt/, of the Princess Áož/ān. The magicians.
7%e end of Sārūſap, A'asd/u's departure wit/.
A of:/drl.
jaying departed thence, Rājā Rasilu jour-
H neyed on towards Sirikót, the Fort of Skulls.
At the close of the day he halted, and having
pitched his tent and eaten his supper, he walked
forth to look for the body of Sirislik, the brother of
Rājā Sirikap, who, as his name implics, was surnamed

RAJA RASALU AND RAJA SIRIKAP. 87
‘The Beheader.” He found the corpse lying stiff
and cold on the ground, and turning to his parrot, he
said,
“This man is dead. Who now will advise us about
Rājā Sirikap P”
“Offer up your prayers to God,” answered the
parrot, “ and I think the body will sit up, because it
is not really dead, but it lies here under the spell
of Sirikap's magic.”
Then Rasūlu, when he had first washed his face,
his hands, and his feet, stood and prayed in these
words:—
“God, within the forest lonely
Night hath fallen o'er the dead ;
Grant him life a moment only,
Light within his eyelids shed ;
Then this corpse that lieth pronely,
Four words to speak will lift his head.”
The king's prayer was heard and God granted
Sirisuk his life, for at Once the dead man awoke
and raising himself he began to speak. “Who has
disturbed me P” said he.
“Here you have been lying asleep for twelve years,”
answered Rasālu, “What kind of sleep is this P”
“Who are you ?” asked Siristik.
“I am Rasalu,” answered the king.
“Are you the real Rasálu or another P” said Sirisuk,
“Where are you going P”
88 7TP/A2 Z. EGAZAV/D OF ACASA / U.
“I journey towards the castle of your elder brother
Sirikap, to wage battle with him,” said Rasalu.
Then Sirisuk began to laugh.
“What are you laughing at P” enquired Rasálu.
“I am his own brother,” replied Sirisuk, “and yet
he killed me without pity. Do you think he will
spare you ? Besides, you have not even an army,
while his army is numerous. How do you intend
to cope with him P”
“Assisted by your advice,” answered Rasālu, “I
trust I shall be fully able to fight and to subdue him.”
Then said Sirislik, “When you begin to draw near
the city, he will raise his magical storm and blow you
away to Some other country. And if you evade
that, he will bury you under a storm of magical
snow. And if you escape that, then, when you strike
the gong which hangs before the castle-gate, and
when the noise of the gong shall Sound in your ears,
you will lose your Senses, and becoming crazed you
will be driven out of the place. And if peradven-
ture you avoid that peril, then, when you pass under
the swing of his daughter Jhudhál who swings in the
porch of the palace, which is fifty yards high, you
will begin to rage with frenzy and you will become
the sport of the inmates, because the effect of that
swing is that whosoever passes beneath it goes raving
mad. And if by good fortune and the favour of God
RA/A RASAZU AND RA/4 SIRIKAP. 89.
you overcome that danger, Rājā Sirikap will then
play choºlpaz with you, and his wife and daughters
will sit before you to divert your eyes, and in the mean-
time you will lose the game, and Sirikap will win it,
after which he will cut off your head. But if he can-
not prevail over you in that way, he will call forth
his rats, Harbans and Harbansi, who are kept for that
very purpose, and who will come and take away the
wick Out of the lamp, and there will be confusion, and
Sirikap will make you the loser and himself the win-
ner, after which he will take your head from off your
shoulders. It is better for you to turn back, and not
to go to Rājā Sirikap.” -
“I will certainly go to him,” answered Rasálu.
“If you insist upon going,” said Siristik, “you
must endeavour to avoid all the perils of which I
have warned you. Therefore do you now take out of
me two of my ribs. On your way you will meet a cat
which you must carry with you, and which you must
feed from time to time with my ribs. Then, when you
are playing Cho?!pat, and when the Rájá cries out
‘Harbans 'let loose your cat, so the cat will kill the
rat and the game will be yours.”
Saying these words, Siristik drew out of his side
two of his ribs, and gave them to Rájá Rasalu, who
took them and kept them carefully by him as he
journeyed.
l,
90 THE ZAZ GAZAV/D OF AZASA / U.
Having started afresh, he came to a village where
a cat was busy assisting an old weaver in his work.
“O weaver,” said Rasálu, “have you no son, nor
any servant, that this wretched cat is helping you ?”
“I am a poor man,” answered the weaver, “and
no other creature in the house have I, excepting
my cat.”
Rasalu, offering the man twenty rupees, bought
the cat and took her with him, and as they went
along she sucked at the ribs of Siristik.
Rasalu came next to a certain place where he
saw two boys playing together. One of them made
a small pool of water, and called it the river
‘Rávi,’ and the other made a similar pool and called
it the river ‘Chenā.’ Just then up came a third
boy who stooped down and drank up the water out
of both the pools.
Resuming his journey, Rasalu next saw an old
soldier washing clothes on the bank of a river.
He was a discharged pensioner who had done good
service, and who had received as his reward the grant
of a horse and sixty villages. His vouchers or pen-
sion-papers were tied up in his turban, which was
lying at some distance from him upon the ground.
When his back was turned a stray goat came by
and ate up both his turban and his vouchers, and
on discovering his loss the poor soldier, who was on
RA/A RASALU AND RA/A SIRIKAP. 9 I
his way to claim his recompense, began to lament
most bitterly.
Having observed these things, Rasálu continued
his march, and at last approaching the city of Siriköt,
the capital of Rājā Sirikap, he pitched within a mile
of the fortress, and there he tarried.
When the king of that place heard of the arrival of
this redoubtable champion, he raised his magic storms
in which many trees and houses were swept away.
The next morning he enquired of his daughter, saying,
“See if that man is still there !”
The girl looked out of the window and said,
“He and his horse are there still.”
Then Sirikap proclaimed in the city—“To-night
there will be a heavy fall of snow. Take care of
yourselves.” As the evening approached the snow
began to come down, and it continued falling all night,
until every place in the city was buried many a yard
deep. When morning broke the king again addressed
his daughter, saying,
“See if the man is still there !”
“Sir” answered she looking out, “he is standing
there still, and the snow has not touched him.”
When the storm was over Rājā Rasálu entered the
city, and, going to the castle gate, he took up the
mallet, and smote the gong such a terrific blow that
mallet and gong were both smashed into pieces.
92 T///E W.A. G E /V/O OF AZA SA/ CZ.
Then said he to his horse, “If I venture to pass
beneath the lady's swing my senses will leave me.”
“Sit firmly in your seat,” answered the horse ; “I
will reach her at a single bound, and the moment I-
reach her do you sever the swing with your sword.”
With these words the horse leaped into the air and
carried her rider to the lofty archway, when Rasálu
with one stroke cut through the silken cord of the
Princess Jhudhál's swing, and down fell the witch to
the ground. Alarmed and indignant, she went run-
ning in to her father, crying out and saying—
“Some one has come to-day, O king,
Who kills and kills throughout the town;
He Smote my ropes, and spoilt my swing,
And I, Jhudhál, came tumbling down ;
The mallet flew in fragments eight,
In fragments nine down fell the gong;
O flee, my Sire, and baffle fate,
Your final hour you’ll scarce prolong !”
“Daughter,” said Rājā Sirikap, “do not distress
yourself, and do not fear. Soon I shall kill him, and
you will see his head upon the bloody walls which I
have built of the heads of others.” -
As he spoke Rasalu himself entered the palace, and
Sirikap rose and offered him a couch covered with a
green cloth which had been woven by means of magic
and charms, and upon that he invited him to rest.
But Rasálu rejected his offers. “I ask you
not for coloured couches,” said he, “Give me a
RA/A RASALU AND RA/A SIRIKAP. 93
seat all woven in white, because white is fair and
candid.” - -
“So shall it be,” answered Sirikap, “but first you
must correctly guess the answer to an enigma which
I shall set you, and then a white covered couch shall
be at your service.”
“Say on,” said Rājā Rasalu.
Sirikap then spoke to him as follows :--
“Who of four-fold beard is he,
Of azure foot and neck so ruddy ?
I’ve told the chief as you may see,
My riddle well the wise will study.”
“This riddle of yours,” answered Rasálu contemp-
tuously, “is childish, and the answer is easy: it is an
arrow. If you doubt it, take one out of my quiver, and
regard well its four-bearded head, its blue steel foot,
and its ruddy shaft. And now if you are satisfied
give me to sit upon the white-covered couch.”
“My riddle you have rightly guessed,” replied
Sirikap. “But now put one to me, and if I cannot
give you the true answer, the white-covered couch
shall be yours.”
Then said Rasálu :—
“Within your city boundary
A wonder I did note :
A horse and sixty villages
Were swallowed by a goat ;
Then came a bald-head urchin
Of most capacious maw,
Who Stooped him down and guzzled up
The Ravi and Chenā.”
94 THE LEGAAWD OF RASA L U.
Rasalu challenged his adversary to divine the
answer, but Sirikap exercised his powers in vain. At
last he was compelled to give it up, and Rasalu said
to him, “You have not discovered the answer: grant
me therefore the white-covered couch,” and without
another word Sirikap gave it to him. But the queen,
who had been watching and listening, began to tremble
with fear, until her husband went up to her and
cheered her, saying,
“Do not grieve—I shall cut off this fellow's head
in a minute and send it over to you, because many
others have come in like manner, but none have es-
caped my hands at last.”
Then said Sirikap to Rasalu, “Wherefore have you
come to me P”
“It is reported,” answered he, “that you are a
tyrant, and that you have slaughtered thousands of
innocent men. Therefore have I come to your
castle, to challenge you to arms.” .
“Be it so,” replied Sirikap. “Everything shall of
course be ordered as you desire.” Then said he
again, “For you and me to fight together in public
would be anything but creditable. Far better is it
that you should come and play choupat with me,
and that the conqueror should cut off the loser's
head.”
RA/A RASAZU AND RA/A SIRIAA P. 95
To this proposal Rājā Rasālu willingly agreed,
So the choupai was brought, the lamp was lighted, and
the two kings sat down to play.
As the game began, Sirikap chanted for luck Say-
ing — - º
“Beneath this lamp's uncertain ray
Two kings contend in rival play ;
O changeful Game, change thou for me,
What Sirikap wills the same should be ſ”
Hearing this charm, Rasalu observed, “That
which you have now repeated is essentially wrong,
since in your verse you have not mentioned the
Sacred name of God. What you should have said
was this :— -
“Beneath this lamp's uncertain ray
Two kings contend in rival play :
O changeful Game, change thou for me,
What God decrees the same shall be.”
With these words the game began. Rājā Sirikap
repeating incantations over his dice threw them, and
Rasálu lost Siálkót. Then Rasálu waxed wrath,
and in his anger he wagered all his servants, his goods,
and his whole kingdom, all of which were also won
by Sirikap. The third time he staked his mare
Bhaunrá-Iráki and his parrot Shádi, which were
also won by Sirikap: the fourth time he lost his
arms; and the fifth and last time he lost his own life.
96 ZTA/A. J. ZG EAVO OA' A' A SA / U.
Then Sirikap sprang to his feet, and drawing his
sword he prepared to cut off his rival’s head. But
Rasalu said, -
“It is true I have lost my head, and you have a
right to act as you please. Nevertheless, I would
look towards my own kingdom once more. Suffer
me therefore to ascend for that purpose to the roof
of your palace.”
Sirikap consenting, Rasālu went up to the palace
roof, and began to gaze towards Siálkót, and as he
gazed in Sorrow he smote his hands upon his thighs
and uttered a sigh. Now the cat was concealed in
his clothing, and when Rasālu Smote himself she cried
Out, upon which the king remembered her, and re-
joiced. *
“O you luckless little beast,” said he, “you have
not yet done me a service at all, but now let me try
my fortune once more.” -
Coming down into the palace, he said to Sirikap,
“By whom were you created P”
“By Him who created you,” answered he.
“If you really believe this,” said Rasalu, “permit
me to try one more game in His name.”
“Certainly,” answered Sirikap, and the two kings
again sat down to play.
Then Rasālu exclaiming, “In the name of God,”
threw the dice, and won back Siâlkót. In the second
RAVA RASAZU AAWD RA/A SI/º/KAP. 97
game he won back his kingdom and all his subjects.
In the third he recovered his horse and his parrot, in
the fourth his arms, and in the fifth game he regained
his own head. -
The two kings were now quits, but Sirikap pressed
for another trial and the play proceeded. Fortune
however had deserted him, and in the first game he
lost his capital city Sirikót, in the second all his king-
dom, his furniture and army, and in the third his wiſe
and children. Fiercely and warily he now contended
for the fourth game upon which he had wagered
his head, and finding that he made no way he cried
out, “Harbansa, Harbansa P’ when at once his male
rat appeared on the scene. He stole in and ran to-
wards his master in response to the summons, but
meanwhile Rájá Rasālu had brought out his cat from
his sleeve, and set her down in the shadow of the
lamp. Then as the rat approached to meddle with
the lamp, the cat pounced upon him and swallowed
him up. Sirikap in his despair now cried out,
“Harbansi, Harbansi, look sharp, Harbansi l’’
But the female rat which had witnessed the fate of
her mate replied from a safe distance,
“A curse to your service, O king,
A curse to your handſul of grain
I am off to the hills, and my teeth
Shall nibble the herbage again.”
M
98 THE ZEGAZAVD OF RASA / U.
The next moment the fourth game came to an end
and Rasálu was again the victor. Drawing his sword
he approached Sirikap to smite off his head, but
his opponent besought him Saying, “You begged my
permission to look towards your country and I gave
it. You will allow me then, for the sake of God, to go
and see my family, but first I would venture a game
in the name of God as you did.”
Rasálu accepted his offer, and the game was once
more resumed, but again Sirikap lost. Then said he,
“I would now, if you will permit me, go and bid adieu
to my family, after which I will shortly return.”
Rasālu agreed, and the defeated king going to
his wife and daughters said to them, “Put on your
jewels, attire yourselves royally, and presenting your-
selves before Rasalu endeavour to Subdue him with
your beauty.”
So his wife and daughters apparelled themselves
in their best and adorned themselves with rich orna
ments and bright jewels, and going to Rájá Rasālu
they began to parade their charms. But he heeded
them not, neither did he look at them attentively,
but he asked of them, “Where is Sirikap P”
“In fear of his life,” answered they, “he has fled
away.” -
“It does not matter,” said Rasilu, “Wherever he
goes I will search for him and find him out.”
RA/A RASAZU AND R4/4 SIRIKAP. 99
Going to the council of ministers he enquired
where their master generally sat. Some said, “He
may be in his chamber of mirrors.” Others said,
“He may be in his subterranean dwelling.” But the
rest said, “He is a king, and he must have gone
whithersoever it pleased him.”
Then Rasilu began to search the court and the
palace. From chamber to chamber he passed ; in
some places he found miserable captives, in others
the bodies of dead men and women, and in others
precious stones and valuable ornaments, but nowhere
could he discover Sirikap. Leaving the palace he
went to the stables, and, as he looked and looked in
every corner, his eye rested on a manger filled with
litter which seemed to be alive.
“What is the matter,” said he, “with this horse-
litter that it swells and sinks and swells again P”
Going up to the manger, he tossed out the litter,
and there, Crouching miserably beneath it, was found
Rājā Sirikap.
“Ah,” said Rasálu, “doubtless you are some mean
fellow, since you have hidden yourself in this filthy
place.”
And he caught him by the neck and dragged
him along to the chamber in which they had played,
exclaiming as he went, “O villain, hundreds of heads
you have smitten off in your time with your own
I OO TA/A2 / E GAZAV/D OF /øASA / U.
hand, and all for pastime, yet you never grieved or
shed a tear. And now when the same fate is to be
your Own you sneak away and bury yourself in
horse-dung !”
Now an event had occurred in the palace of which
Rasalu was not aware. One of the favourite wives
had given birth to a daughter, and the magicians and
wizards had met Sirikap and had told him, saying,
“Sire, we have sought for the interpretation of this
mystery why ruin should have fallen on your house,
and we divine that calamity has been brought by
your infant daughter whose destiny has crossed your
own. She has come in an evil hour. Let her now
be sacrificed, and let her head be thrown into the
river and your crown and head will be secure.” And
Sirikap had answered, “If my life depen& on her, go,
cut off her head, and mine may haply yet be pre-
served.” So a slave-girl was despatched to bring the
inſant to the magicians. And as she carried it along
from the apartments of its mother, she cried, while
she caressed it,
“O, what a pretty child, I should like to save it.”
It was just at this moment as she crossed the court
that Rájá Rasálu appeared from the stable dragging
Sirikap, and he thus Overheard her remark.
“Where are you taking that child P” said he,
AA/A AEASAZU AAVD RA/A S/R/KAP. IOI
“This is the king's child, born only this very night,”
answered the slave girl. “The Brahmin Soothsayers
have declared that she is the cause of all her father's
troubles, and now her head is to be taken off and
thrown into the Indus.” -
When Rasalu looked at the child he loved it, and
he said to the girl, “ Follow me.” .
Having entered the chamber, he released his victim,
who said, -
“Rasálu, say now, what is your purpose P’’
“I am going,” answered he, “to cut off your head.”
“For the sake of God,” said Sirikap, “spare me and
grant me my life, and in lieu of your wager, take one
of my daughters in marriage.”
“I want none of your daughters,” replied Rasálu,
“I want only your head.” -
Sirikap then humbled himself more and more,
pleading for his life and saying, “Sir, have mercy!”
At last Rasalu relenting said, “You shall be
Spared on certain conditions. In the first place you
will take an oath never to play chouffat with any one
again. In the next you will free all your miserable
Captives. And in the third place, you will draw five
lines with your nose on a red hot griddle.”
All these terms were accepted by Sirikap, who
took the Oath, and released his prisoners, but when
the red hot griddle was produced he began to
IO2 THE LEGAAWD OF R.A.S.A. Z. U,
excuse himself not to make the lines. But Rasalu
caught him by the back of the neck, and holding his
nose to the griddle, he marked it with lines until his
nose was burnt down to the bridge, after which he
loosed him and let him go. Then Sirikap, seeing
himself in such a state of Shame and disgrace, ran
away into the wild woodlands, and never returned
any more. -
After this Rājā Rasālu, having established a govern-
ment of his own, mounted his charger, and at the head
of some chosen followers, whose lance-heads gleamed in
the sunlight, and whose accoutrements clashed merrily,
he rode proudly away. With him in a magnificent
litter, accompanied by her ancient nurse, travelled the
infant daughter of Sirikap, whose name was Kokal, or
Koklán, the Sweet-cooing Dove. She it was who in
after years, when she grew to woman's estate, became
his beautiful, but ill-fated consort.

CHAPTER X.
THE TREASON OF QUEEN KOKLAN.
Rasd/u settles at Kheri-mºrf. Childhood of Kož/ºz.
Peath of the nurse. Rasilus pursuits. Rámez
Rok/din accompanies Rasd/u to the chase. Their
adventures. Hárá Haran the Blue Buck, his disgrace
and his revenge. Ba/d-/lead and One-eye. Ráſá
A/odi com/zes to Kherā-7/27/rāz. His amour zväz/; Koſº/āz.
The parrot and the maina. Hod; guits the palace in
alarm. The disconsolate Queen. Hodž's adventure
zwith the washerman and his wife. His arrival at
A £a/é.
º RAVELLING thence for twelve days Rasálu
* arrived at the hills of Kheri-mürti near Bur-
han, where he saw upon the height a beautiful
mansion surrounded by a fair garden, which looked
like the dwelling-place of a king.
“This,” said Rasūlu, “is an abode worthy of living
in, and here I resolve to remain.”

IO4 THE LEGEND OF RASAZU.
“Sir,” said his mare to him, “this is a palace which
looks to me like the house of a giant. It is not wise
to take up your quarters here.”
“Let us abide,” answered Rasalu, “at least for a
night. If we are molested we can then abandon it,
but if not, I mean to Occupy it, because it is a place
after my own heart, and I have no desire to leave
it.”
So there they slept in security, and no man, or
demon, or any other creature, intruded upon them for
twelve years, and Rasālu said, “Here there is no one
to cause us alarm.” And in that lofty stronghold he
dwelt, having strengthened it well with walls and
bastions all round, and having cut out a flight of
steps, eighty-six in number, from the garden beneath
to the palace above.
When the child Koklán was growing up, he ordered
that the old custom of his people should be disregard-
ed, and that the little princess should be, not reared on
vegetable food, but nourished with flesh-meat every
day. Her education was intrusted to the ancient
nurse who had accompanied her from Sirikót, and
who was quite devoted to her. No other woman but
herself was allowed to attend her, and no other woman
but herself was permitted to enter the walls of the for-
tress. When with increasing years she became ill, and
was likely to die, the king said to her,
THE TREASON OF QUEEN KOKLAN. IO 5
“I have as much respect and love for you as
for my own mother, and wherever it is your wish
that your body should be burnt, there it shall be
done.”
“Do not burn my body,” requested she, “ merely
throw it into the Abbā-Sindh.” -
And when the day of her death came, her wishes
were duly observed.
Rājā Rasálu was passionately fond of hunting.
Leaving the child in the charge of the nurse, he was
in the habit of visiting the woodland every day with
bows and arrows to chase the wild deer. Rejoicing
in his vast strength and in his unrivalled skill as a
marksman, he indulged in the sport either wholly
alone or attended only by Shádí, his parrot. In the
evening he returned with his spoil to the castle, when
the feast was spread, and his minstrels sang of his ex-
ploits, and of the exploits of Vikrámájit, as he sat with
his little princess on his divan, and fed her with
venison. Her life was lonely with only a nurse to
attend to her, but she had constant companions in
eighty parrots, eighty-six minas, and eighty peacocks,
who guarded her both night and day, and who like all
living things in those days had the gift of speech.
With them she used to converse, and to them she
communicated her little joys and sorrows.
* The Father of Rivers—the Indus.
Ioé THE LEGE AWD OF RASA / U.
So passed the lives of king and princess, until the
old nurse died, and the little girl had grown into a
woman, and had become Rasálu's Queen. They were
very happy together, for the king was always what
Mahummadans in the Panjāb name a “good” man,
which means that he was faithful to the one lady of his
choice, and that he never desired the companionship
of another. Nay, further, Rasalu was more, for
having been vowed to chastity from the moment of
his birth, he ever guarded well that one principle,
upon the preservation of which the whole of his
wonderful strength depended.
One evening, when he was in a merry mood, an
odd fancy came into the king's mind, which was, that
his young wife should accompany him to the chase,
Said she to him, -
“I have eaten so much venison in my life, that if
I did go with you all the deer of the forest would
follow me.”
But the proposal delighted her, and her happy
youthful spirits became exhilarated at the prospect
of liberty, and of leaving the castle, if only for a day,
to visit the wild trackless woodland.
“But,” said she “how do you kill the deer P”
“When I shoot my arrow at the deer,”
the king, “ and when the deer feels himself wounded,
answered
he runs back, and falls dead before my horse's feet.”
THE TREASON OF QUEEN KOKZAAV. IoW
The queen was surprised to hear tell of this, and
she said, -
“How can it be P I should like so much to see it.”
“And so you shall,” said he, “for to-morrow,
Sweetheart, you and I will go hunting together.”
In the morning they set out unattended, the queen
riding on a pillion behind her husband, and they
came to the wooded hillocks and grassy ravines,
where the deer loved to wander. Soon the king
loosed an arrow from the string, which wounded a
doe, but the animal instead of approaching them ran
forward half-a-mile, when she was overtaken and slain.
Then said the queen, .
“You have not spoken the truth, Sir.”
“Why so P” asked Rasálu.
“If you had had no horse with you,” replied the
queen, “you could not have caught this deer at all.”
“The reason is this,” said Rasalu, “you have been
sitting behind me the whole day touching my body,
and from contact with you one-third of my force has
left me.”
Then said the queen, with a mocking laugh, “I
know not whether I am wife or daughter, but if a
mere touch has cost you one-third of your strength,
how will it fare with you for descendants P But now
allow me, and I will catch all these animals alive with
my hands.”
Io8 THE ZEGEND OF RASAZU.
So the queen dismounted, and sat herself down
among the rocks and the thickets, and she loosened
her beautiful raven hair, gazing all the time with full
eyes at the deer. But when these gentle creatures
saw her, and when they scented in the breeze the
SWeet fragrance of her flowing tresses, they all came
running towards her. And she said to Rasalu,
“Come now, Raja, and catch any one of them you
please.”
“I will catch none of them,” answered the king
warmly, “neither are they worth the killing, for they
are your lovers.”
Just then there approached her a great blue
buck, by name Hírá Haran, who was the monarch
of them all. Enchanted with her dazzling beauty,
he walked up to her with stately steps, and made
an obeisance by Stooping down his noble head at the
Ráni's feet. .
King Rasálu, who had been filled with amazement
at the power of his wife's beauty, no sooner saw the
king of the deer at her feet than his jealous soul be-
came black with resentment,
“Never have I permitted a single creature of the
male sex to approach her,” said he to himself, “ and
now the king of the deer is languishing at her feet!”
His passionate nature was not proof against the
anger with which such a spectacle inspired him, so
THE TREASON OF QUEEN KOKLAN. Io9
m=-
drawing his sword he seized Hirá Haran, and cut off
his ears and his tail. - -
“O Rājā Rasālu,” remonstrated the deer, “ you
are a monarch among men, and I am Only an ani-
mal of the jungle. With your sword you have
lopt off my ears and my tail ; but know that one
day you yourself will be so gashed and slashed, that
until the day of judgment you never will heal you
of your wounds again " : —
“O king my ears and my tail you have lopt,
You have marred and insulted me sore;
But beware, for if ever by doe I was dropt,
The spoiler shall visit your door P
*~
The indignant deer then departed, leaving the royal
pair to themselves. But the queen, whose feminine
instincts had been gratified by the homage offered
to her by the king of the greenwood, felt mortified
and vexed to think that her husband should have
forgotten himself. Nor was he less angry at the
unfortunate mis-hap which had spoilt the pleasure
of the day, one moment reproaching his wife, and
another moment bitterly accusing Hírá Haran, but
failing to see that his unhappiness was due to his own
rashness. And so the two returned to Kheri-Márti;
but it was some days before their tempers were molli-
fied, and long before confidence was again restored.
Meanwhile the Blue Buck was planning a bitter
revenge. At the town of Attock on the banks of the
I IO THE ZEGEND OF RASAZU.
Indus a certain king named Hodi had built a border-
fortress on the top of a cliff which rises from the
very margin of the river. This chieftain was noted
for his love of intrigue, as well as for his passion for
the pleasures of the chase. Calling these circum-
stances to mind the Blue Buck said,
“Now, I will betake me to the palace of Rájá
Hodi, and I will graze in his garden, and when the
hue-and-cry is set up, and he begins to follow me,
I will run to the castle of Rājā Rasálu.”
So he made his way to Rájá Hodi's, followed by
all his friends, and entering the king's garden he
utterly destroyed it. These things the gardeners
reported to their master, who, when he heard of
the havoc which had been made, issued a notice,
saying,
“Whosoever shall kill Hírá Haran, the Blue Buck,
I will give him rich presents, a horse to ride on, and
jewels to wear, and I will make him the commander
of my army.”
This notice was published over all that country,
and it so happened that the news of it reached the
ears of two shepherd-boys named Bald-head and
One-eye, who said to each other,
“Let us go and find this Hírá Haran, the Blue
Euck.” .
THE TREASON OF QUEEN KOKLAN. III
They searched and searched until they found him,
when Bald-head went privately to Rájá Hodi and
said to him,
“If you will come with me I will show you the
Blue Buck.” •
Then the king loaded him with presents and
accompanied him to the place.
Meanwhile, however, One-eye who harboured a
grudge against Bald-head, had hunted away the buck
from that ravine into another. And when Rājā Hodi
came and could not find anything, he said,
“Where is the Blue Buck P”
Then spoke One-eye and said,
“This boy is silly, and knows nothing whatever
about him. He has been deceiving you ; but if you
will take away his presents and give them to me, I will
show you the Blue Buck.”
So the king transferred the presents from Bald-
head to One-eye, who took him to the ravine and
pointed out to him the game he was in search of
As soon as Hirá Haran perceived Rájá Hodi, he
ran deliberately in front of him, and led his pursuer
in the direction of Kheri-muirti, all the time feigning
a lameness in order to entice him on more and more
with the hope of eventual capture.
“Sir” said the wazir, “do not pursue this deer,
there is Some magic about him.”
I [2 TAZAZ ZAZ GAZAVO OA' A' A SA / U.
King Hodi, however, refused to hear the voice of
his wazir, and, galloping his horse, he went Straight for
his quarry, leaving his attendants to shift for them-
selves. After an exciting run the Blue Buck sprang
the river close to the palace of Râni Koklán, and the
noble horse of Rájá Hodi, roused by the chase, es-
Sayed and performed the same leap. But the deer
then disappeared into a cave and hid himself, and
when the king arrived at the spot he was nowhere
to be seen. -
So Hodi drew rein, and finding himself in the
midst of a garden of mangoes, he stretched forth his
hand to pluck Some of the fruit. But as he did so
one of the sentinel-minas exclaimed,
“Do not break the branches, and do not eat the
mangoes. This garden belongs to one who will
punish intruders.”
Rájá Hodi then observed that the trees grew be-
neath a fortress, but he could perceive no means of
approach. Looking up, he saw the plumage of the
parrots gleaming from the eaves, and Ráni Koklán
pacing the roof in her royal array. Then said he to
to the mina—
“The parrots perch themselves aloft,
They dwell within the eaves ;
But O that splendid lustre, soft
And bright as golden leaves :
Say, Mina, Say, what beauty passes there,
Perchance Some man, or is it maiden fair 7”
THE TREASOAV OF QUEEN KOKLAN. I 13
The mina answered him,
“She is the wife of the king who is away hunting
in the moors and woodlands.”
Then said one of the birds to the queen, -
“See, a man has entered the garden, and he is
spoiling the fruit l”
“What is a man P” asked the queen. “Is he a
wild beast, or is he some other thing P Where is he—
I want to see him—show me him l’’
The queen looked down from the roof of her palace,
and saw that some Rájá was sitting on horseback
in her garden, and that he carried a bow, and an
arrow which weighed three pounds. Then cried she
to him : . &
“Ho, Sir, beneath my palace walls,
Say who and what are you ?
Some skulking robber, rife for brawls 2
Or, are you champion true P”
And to her Rájá Hodi returned answer:
“O Ráni, thieves are clothed in rags,
True men are clean and white ;
For love of you, o'er flats and crags,
I kept my game in sight ;
And far from country and from kin,
He led me here fair lady's Smile to win.”
Then said the queen :
“What Rájá's son are you,
And say what name you bear,
Where lies your fatherland,
What city claims you there 2"
I I4 TAZAZ ZAZ GAZ /V/O OF /ø Al SAJC CV.
e-
The king answered her;
“Rájá Bhatti's son am I,
Hodi is the name I bear,
Udhe is my fatherland,
Attak is my city there.”
Then thought Hodi to himself, “Who is this woman
in the midst of the wilderness P Is she a witch or
some goddess P I must find out.” So he said,
“Who is your father, and who is your husband P
Where can the foolish one have gone who has left you
alone in your lofty palace P”
“I am the daughter of King Sirikap, and the wife
of Rasalu,” answered the queen Koklán. “Leaving
me alone in my lofty palace, my husband is far away
chasing the wild deer.”
When Hodi heard the name of Rasālu he began
to quake with fear, and would fain have turned back.
Buit love stronger than fear urged him on, and he
said to the queen, - -
“Do you know me, who I am P” g
“Yes,” answered she, “I know you well, and I have
been waiting for you.”
Then said Hodi :
“Running and walking in breathless haste,
From scenes afar I hied me,
Yet here the golden time I waste,
For I know no path to guide me ;
O. Ráni, say, where lies your palace road,
Where are the steps that lead to your abode Pº
THE TREASOAV OF QUEEN KOKLAN. II 5
And to him the queen made answer:
“Beneath the mangoes set your steed,
Your quiver to the pommel tie ;
The steps that to the Castle lead,
Among the mangoe-trees they lie;
Full eighty-six; nor less nor more,
Will bring you to my palace door.”
Rájá Hodi looked for the steps, and finding them
he began to ascend. But when he gained the vesti-
bule of the palace, one of the minas on guard stopped
him, Saying :
“Where have you lost your deer,
And where did your cattle go 2
Some traitor led you here
To play Rasālu's foe.”
And turning to her companion, a parrot, she said,
“The duty which is imposed on us both by our
dear master is to watch over the safety of the queen,
and we shall be false to our salt if we do not report
to him the misconduct of this stranger.”
By this time Ráni Koklán was growing impatient,
and she was saying to herself, -
“Why does he tarry, why linger the steps of my
Rājā P”
So she passed out of her chamber to enquire, and,
Seeing that her favourite mina was the cause of the
delay, she began to reprove her. But the mina re-
plied, e
“What are you doing, admitting a strang
man to these walls 2 If the king hea, º
I IG THAE LA, GA2/VD OF AZASA / U.
wickedness, he will strike you dead where you
stand.”
The queen started and flushed with rage, but,
restraining herself, she led Hodi to the well which
Rājā Rasălu had hewn out of the rock, and which
was furnished wifh wheels and ropes and pitchers
for drawing up water into the trough. There they
sat, and she gave him food and drink, and they
entertained one another with delicious words.
Then Koklán led the way to the vestibule of the
king's chamber, but, as she gained the door-way,
the mina again spoke and said,
“Hear, O parrot, this is no longer a home for
us, for this fellow is neither a kinsman nor a con-
nection. Surely such presumption never was seen,
that a wretched Crow should peck at the clustering
grapes 1"
The queen instantly turned upon the mina, but
the parrot, anxious to allay her anger, said to his
companion, -
“O you senseless one ! What harm is done if the
man merely eats and drinks and goes away P What
is Rājā Rasálu to us? Does not the queen our
mistress tend us and feed us with her own hands.”
“She does indeed,” answered the mina. “Still she
has dishonoured her name, and done what she should
A ) 3
not have done. And we are the servants of the Rájá.
THE TREASON OF QUEEN KOKLAN. I 17
This speech of the mina enraged the queen still
more, so much so, indeed, that she ran to the cage,
and, seizing the unfortunate bird, she wrung her neck
and cast her away. But the cunning parrot, gazing
at his friend's quivering body, said,
“Ah, you silly chatterer, you have just met your
deserts P’ Then addressing his mistress, he said, “If
you would but take me out of my cage, I should like
to give the mina’s dead body a couple of kicks.”
Said the queen, “Thank you, parrot, you are loyal
and true,” and she opened the cage, and let him out,
when the parrot flew to the mina and kicked her.
Meanwhile the queen had closed the door, and
taken Hodi into Rasālu's chamber, and there both
he and she sat down together on the couch. Then
the king, admiring her refined beauty, said to her :
“A tiny mouth, a slender nose,
A figure graceful as the fawn,
Two eyes as soft as opening rose
When glistening with the dews of dawn.
O queen, how dainty thou—so slim, so slight,
One little touch would surely break you quite ſ"
But Ráni Koklán answered her gallant :
“For joy the fletcher frames the arrowy dart,
For joy the blade is wrought by curious art,
And as in June the horn-tipt bow's unstrung,
And, all relaxed, within the chamber hung,
But, Summer past, is pulled and pulled again,
Nor feels the force of unaccustomed strain,
So bounteous love, the more it takes and gives,
The more it charms us, and the more it lives.”
II 8 THE ZEGEND OF RASA ZU.
Now, all this time the parrot was meditating an es-
cape from the closed chamber, but he found no means
of egress. At last he perceived a small aperture,
and, fluttering through it, he flew on to the battle-
InnCIntS. .
y J
“Up and away !” cried the alarmed queen to
Hodi—“away, as you hope to Save your life The
news has gone to Rasálu !”
“Alas !” said Hodi with a deep breath. “But O
Ráni,” continued he, “if you will coax the parrot
to return, I think he will not disregard you, but
come back to your house, and then we shall have
no room for alarm and no cause for Sorrow.”
So the queen looked out at a casement, and cried
through the lattice in caressing tones :
“Rice with my nails have I cleaned for you ever,
Boiled it in new rhilk and chided you never ;
Come to me, Pretty, return to me, Dear,
You are my Ránjhā, and I am your Hír P +
But the parrot was deaf to her blandishments, and,
spreading his bright wings, he answered her :
“You’ve killed my pretty mina dead,
All widowed now am I ;
If e'er by parrots I was bred, <
Away to the king I’ll fly.”
With these words the bird mounted, and flew far
away, and he began to Search for Rájá Rasālu among
* These were two devoted lovers.
THE TREASON OF QUEEAV ÅOKLAN. I IQ
forests and hills and deserts, but unable to find him
he finally stopped exhausted in One place.
Meanwhile, Hodi was in a fright, for, when he saw
the tell-tale parrot on the wing, fear seized upon him,
and, caring only for his Own Safety, he hastened out of
the doors of the palace. But the queen threw her arms
about him and clipped him, and wept piteously, and
Hodi to soothe her wiped away her tears with his
hands, and the black stain from her eyes discoloured
his fingers. Impatient to be gone, he tore himself
away from her, and then for his cowardice she regard-
ed him with scorn, and said,
“You are leaving me to bear the brunt of it all. I
took you for a Swan, but, lo, you are a veritable crane!
Had I known you, you should not have come nigh
my door.” -
Vexed by her taunts Hodi answered her,
“I have eaten of delicate fare, and my leavings re-
main ; the beautiful cloth has become worn and old.
fit covering for beggars.”
With these words he rushed from the place, and
made his escape. Coming to the river-bank, he went
down to drink water, for he was thirsty, and there,
when he had put dºwn his hands towards the water,
he saw on his fingers the black stain of the collyrium,
and he drew them back, saying,
I 20 THE / E GE/V/D OF /&A.S.A. W. U.
“This is the only token of my love which I possess,
and I must not lose it.”
Thus speaking to himself, he stooped down on his
knees, and drank like a goat.
Hard by, there was an old washerman, who observ-
ing his action said to his wife, “Who is that man
drinking water like a beast P”
“Whether you know him or not,” answered she, “I
know him well.” - -
“Tell me, then, who he is,” said her husband.
“He is Rájá Hodi,” said the woman.
“O fool,” returned the washerman, “did you ever
see a Rājā drinking water like that P” -
“I am afraid,” replied she, “to tell you the reason
of it, lest, if I did, you should kill me.”
“What a strange thing to say,” said he “as if I
should kill you for telling me a good secret !”
“Take an oath !” said his wife. * -
“I take an oath of the God who created me,” an-
swered he, “that I will not harm you, if you will tell
me why the Rājā is drinking water like that.”
Then his wife replied to him thus :
“Last night, some wayward wife, or daughter,
Enrocked him in her soft embraces ;
So, ox-like, stoops the king for water,
For love to save love's piteous traces;
She wept to part, he wiped her tears away,
The sable stains his finger-tips beray.”
THE TREASON OF QUEEN KOKLAN. I 2 I
The washerman, hearing this horrid scandal, be-
came angry, and said to his wife,
“No doubt you, woman, have been at the
bottom of it; you have been the go-between ; other-
wise how could you know anything of the Rájá's
doings?”
Thus saying he took up his mallet and struck her
on the back of the head, so that she fell senseless.
“A nice man you are,” said she when she came to,
“I told you what you asked for, and this was your
return ” -
Now Hodi had stopped drinking to listen to their
Colloquy, and, feeling ashamed, he had risen and
was walking away without quenching his thirst. Then
the washerman, perceiving his anger, thought to him-
self, “In the morning this Rájá will surely kill me.”
So he said to his wife,
“Don’t be offended ; go to that Rájá and bring
him back to drink water ; otherwise he will never
leave me alone.”
“That I will not,” answered his wife. “By trust-
ing you once I have already suffered enough, and if I
bring the Rājā back, you will say I was his friend,
as you have said already.”
“Call him back,” said her husband, “I will not
touch you.”
Then she turned round to Hodi, and cried,
P
Y 22 THE ZEGEND OF RASAZU.
“Use not the blistering herb as a tooth-brush, and
eat not the flesh of snakes. Caress not another's son,
for he will cover you with spittle. Churn not
another's curds, for their taste is as water, neither
covet another's bed, since it never can be yours.
Therefore cleanse your hands, wash away the stain
and come drink handfuls of water.”
Rájá Hodi, perceiving that she was a witch, took
the woman's advice, and washing his hands he drank
his fill. Then approaching the washerman he said,
“O washerman, this woman is not fitted for you,
because she is wise, while you are a fool. You had
better take a thousand gold pieces, and hand her
over to me. I will cherish her like one of my
children, and with my money you can marry another.”
“Your pardon, Sir,” said the washerman, “this
plan will never do.”
So Rájá Hodi left them, and passing on he arrived
at his own palace. There, choosing a solitary cham-
ber, in which stood an old couch, he laid himself
down, and began, with tears, to remember and to
lament for the Râni Koklán.

CHAPTER XI.
THE FATE OF RANI KOKLAN.
The fugitive parrot resumes his search. He finds
his master in Hagárá, and betrays the queen. Ra-
sd/u and his horse. His arrival /ēomte. He despatches
Shād; to Ráſá Hodž. The stražageme. Hodi comes
to Kher?-???????. The duel. Hodž's death. Rasd/u
and Koźlín. The evidences of guilt. The gradual-
dy unfolding catastrophe. The end of Rán: Kożldºz.
Whº all these disgraceful doings were going
Y.) on at the palace of Rájá RaSālu, the queen's
parrot, having recovered from his fatigue
resumed his search, and at last, coming to Jhulná
Kangan in Hazárá, he noticed some smoke rising up
to the skies. So he flew towards it, and there he
saw his dear master's horse tied to a tree, and Shádi
the parrot sitting on the pommel of the saddle, while
under the cool shade of the drooping foliage the king
lay sleeping.
Said he to Shádi, “Wake up your Rājā "

I 24 THE LEGAEAWD OF RASA LU.
“I have no authority to do so,” answered Shádi,
“wake him yourself, since you are the Ráni's mes-
senger.”
Then the weary bird, dipping his wings in the
flowing stream, fluttered them over Rasālu's face, and
the drops fell upon him like Soft rain, and he awoke,
and seeing his wife's favourite sitting above him on
the tree, he said, “Why have you left the house
alone P”
Weeping, the bird made answer :
“The Ráni killed my mina-birdie,
Cold it lies upon the floor,
And my reproaches, unavailing,
Only vexed her more and more ;
Arise, arise, O sleeping Rájá, -
Thieves have forced your palace door "
Hearing these sorrowful tidings the king said:
“My minas number eighty-six,
My peacocks tell fourscore ;
Well guarded thus, what thievish tricks
Could force my palace door P
“If,” answered the parrot, “the house-holder him-
self rob the house, and fix it on others, or if the fence
eat up the barley-crop, what can the guards do P”
Then Rasālu arose, and said to his horse, “Now be
wary and true, O Bhaunrá-Iráki, and take me to my
house in a moment.”
“I will do so,” answered the horse, “but never
smite me with your heels.”
THE FA TE OF AZA/V/ ATO KAEA/V. I 25
Mounting, the king rode away towards Kheri-
murti; but, in a fit of impatience, he forgot his pro-
mise, and plunged his spurs into the horse's side,
when at once the animal came to a halt, and was
turned into a stone.
“Ah, you unfaithful one,” cried Rasálu as he leaped
from the saddle, “O you unworthy friend, is this a
time for perfidy ?” -
“Touch me again,” said the horse, “and I shall
never be able to carry you more :
“O spare your whip, your rowel spare,
Rasailu, press me not at all ;
If ever I was bred from mare,
I’ll set you 'neath your castle-wall.”
Saying these words, the gallant horse arose, and
taking her master on her back once more, in an in-
stant she reached her destination.
The first act of Rájá Rasalu on dismounting beneath
the mangoes was to ascend to his wife's chamber,
where he found her lying fast asleep. Leaving her
undisturbed he went down again to the garden, and
said to Shádi his parrot, “Go silently and tenderly,
and bring me here the ring from off the Ráni's hand,”
and the bird at once went away and brought it.
Then the king, having tied it round his faithful
comrade's neck, commanded him, saying, “Away now
to Rájá Hodi ! Tell him that Rasālu has been killed
in the forest, and that Râni Koklán has sent you
I 26 THA. Z.A.G.EZVZ) OA” RASA / U.
with this token of love as a sign for him to come and
bear her away.”
“I go at once, Sir,” answered the parrot, and
taking wing he flew towards Attak, and reaching the
palace he perched himself in one of the windows.
There he was seen by certain of the servants, who
said to each other, “See this parrot—it is tame—it
looks like someone's pet !”
Overhearing their words Shādi answered them,
“You are right, I am.”
“Whose parrot are you ?” enquired one.
“I belong to the Râni Koklán,” replied he, “and
if you will go and tell your Rójá that I am here, he
will reward you.”
The servants went to the Rājā and said to him,
“There is a parrot sitting in one of the windows, who
says that he has a message for you from the Ráni
Koklán.” -
Rájá Hodi, hearing the name of Koklán, Sprang to
his feet, and came out instantly, and, approaching the
parrot, he said, “O faithful bird, what message have
you brought for me 2" -
Instead of answering, Shádi began to shed tears.
“Why are you crying P” asked the king.
“ Doubtless,” replied the parrot, “you are an
honourable man, to form a friendship, and then to go
away and discard it utterly 1"
7THA. A.A 7TAZ OA' A' A WY A. O.KZA/V. 127
“What do you mean by that P” said Hodi.
“This morning,” answered the parrot, “the Râni,
on account of your absence, was going to kill her-
self. I, seeing the dagger in her hand, implored her,
saying, ‘O wait till I return l’ Then she gave me
her ring, and bade me for dear life go quickly, and
she is waiting for me. But if you do not go to her
at once, she will destroy herself.”
Hodi taking the love-token said, “But where is
your master Rasálu ?”
“God knows,” answered Shādi. “I have searched
for him everywhere, but I was unable to find him. I
think some demons or giants must have killed him
and eaten him.”
Rájá Hodi then called for his horse, and mounted,
and rode away on the spot. And when they sighted
the towers of Kheri-mürti, the parrot addressed him
and said, “Let me fly in advance of you to inform
the queen of your arrival.”
“Pray do so,” answered Hodi. And the parrot
flew to the mangoe-trees and said to his master,
“Your rival is coming. Make ready to meet him l’’
Then Rasálu, hearing the longed-for tidings, sprang
into his saddle, and awaited his foeman in patience.
When Rájá Hodi drew nigh, the king advanced
to meet him, and said to him, “Good morrow, Sir ;
will you walk up P”
I28 THE Z.A.G.EZVD OF AZASA / U.
-msº-º
Hodi, Seeing him, became as motionless as a picture,
and began to make hundreds of excuses, saying, “I
have come here by mistake. I did not know whose
palace this might be, and I was coming to enquire.
I hope you will excuse me.”
“Nay,” said Rasālu, “your destiny has brought you
here. It is better to betake you to your arms, and to
use them first on me.”
“Sir,” answered Hodi, “I am not your enemy. I
was unaware whose fortress this might be, so I was
coming to enquire about it. I do not think there is
any harm in enquiring !”
“Let this senseless talk go,” said Rasálu, “and use
your weapons first! Otherwise you will say ‘Rasálu
smote me treacherously.’”
Hodi, finding there was no escape from him, took
an arrow from his quiver, and, putting it to his bow, he
|”.
cried, “Now look out, my poisoned arrow is coming
and shot at Rasálu.
But Rasālu bent from his horse, and avoided the
bolt which, striking against the castle-walls, broke the
stones into shivers. Then said the injured king,
“O little, little, bends the bow-string tight,
But grandly bends the bow that bends to might;
The wise man bends to shun the barbéd bolt,
Who never bends at all is worse than dolt.”
THE FATE OF RAN/ KOKLAN. I 29
But King Hodi, in fear and dismay, with his fate
before him, groaned and said,
“O little, little, can I see of you,
Rasalu,
A gathering mist obscures your form from view,
Rasalu !
With knives of hardened steel my heart is riven,
It burns like flames within the furnace driven,
O hear, Rasālu !”
Deaf to prayers and entreaties, Rasálu fitted one
of his iron arrows to his tremendous bow, and pre-
pared to launch it. At first, to test his adversary's
nerve, he grimly made a feint of shooting, when at
Once the quaking coward slipped behind a mangoe-
tree.
“Ha,” cried Rasálu, “You are behind the mangoe-
tree, are you ? Look Out, your final hour has come !”
Drawing the bow to its utmost tension, he let fly
the messenger of death, which drove through the
trunk of the tree, and pierced through the body of
his foe, and fell four hundred yards beyond. So
swiftly flew the fatal shaft, that Rájá Hodi never so
much as felt it, and he said to Rasálu, “You have
missed " --
“I never missed in my life,” answered he, “Shake
yourself, and see.”
And when Hodi shook himself, he fell down
senseless from his horse, and died beneath the man-
goe-trees,
Q
I 30 THE ZAZ GA2/V/D OF AZASA / U.
Then the king went forward sword in hand, and,
dismounting, he smote off the traitor's head.
As the head rolled aside from the bleeding trunk
the lips of the dead parted and the quivering tongue
uttered the words—“Rasálu, give me to drink I’’
And Rasálu, as in a dream, lifted his adversary's
empty quiver from which the arrows had slipped, and,
filling it with water from a pool, he held it to the open
mouth, and Hodi drank, and when he had drunk he
cried, - .
“O birds, wheeling above me and cleaving the sweet
air with your motionless pinions, go to the queen,
my Loved One, tell her that Hodi is dead, and that
he has taken water from the hands of Rasālu !”
There was a sense of Savage exultation at the
heart of Rájá Rasālu as he fiercely reflected, “To-
day I have brought my wife no venison. Yet she
shall have venison daintier than ever she tasted
before.”
The headless corpse lay at his feet. Stripping it
of its rich clothing, and cutting open the body, he
tore out the heart, and took it with him into the
castle, rolling aside the ponderous gate, and closing
it again with a giant's Strength.
Having made his preparations, he went to the
apartments of the queen, and found her still asleep.
“Get up,” cried he, “the hour is late,”
TAZAZ AºA 7'A. OA' A' AAV/ R O KZLA AW. I31
Rising from her couch, she looked at him in amaze-
ment, for her conscience smote her, and she said to
herself, “Does he suspect anything P”
Turning from the threshold and looking into the
court, he noticed that water had been recently drawn
in the suspended pitchers of the well by means of the
heavy treadle, which was too difficult for the slender
strength of his wife to move. There too stood his
favourite hookah close to the platform which was be-
fouled with spittle. Regarding his Ráni with a
sorrowful air, he said,
“Who has smoked my hookah, Ráni,
Who his spittle here did throw ;
Who the water lifted, Ráni,
Wet’s the trough with overflow 2°
Then the queen hastened to answer her lord,
“I have smoked your hookah, Rájá,
l the Spittle here bestrowed;
I the pitchers lifted, Rájá,
And the water overflowed.”
But in her mind she said “Has the parrot betrayed
me.”
Then the king looked about him, and observed
that both the favourite birds' cages were empty.
“Ah!” said he, “I hear not the voice of your parrot,
and the mina greets not her master. Where are
your friends?”
“The voice of the parrot is still,” answered she,
“ and the mina greets not her master, because they are
I 32 THE ZEGE/VD OF /&A.S.A I. U.
roving abroad. I let out my friends for a flight, and
they flew to the mangoe-trees.”
But her mind misgave her, and she thought to
herself, “Now the truth must come out.”
Then the king went to the walls, and cried, “Miá-
mittu ! Miámittu !” and the parrot heard, and replied
from the mangoe-trees.
“Here I am,” said he, “but my body shakes with
fear. I dare not enter the palace.”
He held out his hand and the parrot flew on to it.
And the king said, “You and the mina-bird were left by
me to guard and protect the Queen. My confidence
has been abused. All this evil has been going on,
and you did not tell me.” -
“I could tell you the whole truth,” answered the
parrot, “but these days are not the days for truth,
One of us told the truth, and now his head lies here,
and his body there.”
When the king saw the mina-bird all ruffled and
headless, he picked up the body, and took it to the
Queen.
“Look I left the mina whole and well—what
work is this P”
“He was killed by the parrot,” answered she,
“ ask him—he dares not deny it.” And as she
spoke the words she threw at the bird a threatening
look,
THE FATE OF RAN/ KOKLA W. I 33
But the parrot said—“Perhaps it was so ; I may
have killed the mina ; but did the king ever hear of
such a thing in the world P”
At the same time he pointed a claw at his mis-
tress to signify that the mina had been killed by
herself.
Then the king entered his chamber, and as he
gazed around him with kindling eyes he noticed
how the cushions and mats were disordered, and,
here and there, scattered about, he observed the -
stones of his wife's broken necklace of rubies, which
she had been vainly endeavouring to string. Then
said he,
“Strange footsteps mark my floor, Ráni,
My couch is all dispread ;
Who forced my chamber-door, Ráni,
What thief abused my bed ;
What hand the necklace tore, Ráni,
Who broke the golden thread P”
And again the queen made answer,
“Soon as the mina died, Rájá,
My beads the parrot tore,
All scared I stepped aside, Rájá,
And trod the polished floor;
O never ask me why, Rájá,
Your couch is all dispread,
For none came here but I, Rájá,
To rest upon your bed!”
But even as she uttered her transparent excuses
her heart sank within her, and she wearily sighed,
“Alas, what next l”
I 34 THE LEGAEAVD OF RASAZU.
Then the king, restraining his rage and grief, cried,
“Enough! Go, Ráni, and see to the venison which is
preparing in the cook-house, and bake me my bread.”
And he went out, and sat down, sullen and moody,
by the well. -
When the queen appeared with the smoking
flesh and the cakes of bread, she laid them down on
the masonry, and the king looked at her and said,
“Come, let us eat together once more.” -
Like a woman, quite forgetful of her faults, she
accepted his apparent kindness, and her Spirits rose;
but men are different, they nurse their thoughts
and keep their suspicions warm.
Then the king put some of the bread to his lips,
and said, “To-day my bread is tasteless.”
“Ah!” said the queen, “What food, dear Heart,
have you brought me here P Methinks no venison
was ever so dainty and Sweet as this.”
- Pushing his bread away from him, and rising up
on the platform, the king darkly replied,
“What food is this so dainty sweet 2
Alive he languished at your feet;
Now, dead and gone, he pleases still—
You eat his flesh—may, eat your fill !
But O may she whose heart is proved untrue,
Ascend the funeral pile, and perish too !”
The bit dropped from the unhappy queen's mouth
as she said to herself, “Ah, I am betrayed, I am be-,
trayed ; he knows all ! all is over !”
TAZAZ FA TE OF ACA/V/ ATO KAAAW. I35
Then she answered her lord with something of
pride and defiance,
“I sit me down, and O you flout me sore,
I get me up, and still you mock me more ;
Since then my suffering gaze nor help nor hope can spy,
With him for whom you taunt me, Rájá, will I die P
Saying this, she sprang to her feet, and rushed
wildly up the battlements, whence she beheld lying
far beneath her the headless body of her paramour.
Then with a cry she threw herself over ; but before
her body had reached the rocks below, her breath
had gone out of her, and Queen Koklán, the false,
the beautiful, was dead.

CHAPTER XII.
THE DEATH OF RASALU.
Pasó/h, recovers the bodies. He carries theſ/a dozwſ.
to the river. His adventure zwith the washer/zan
and his wife, 7%e washerman's story. The Áing:
befriends the was/herman. His grief and ſhis fail-
ſing powers. The zwise women of Ağaft. Ráſá
Hodi's brothers. The invasion of Kheri-mºrti.
The washerman's message and the prophecy. Siege of
A heri-mazºrtz. Kasā'u's curse, 7%e Öattle. Æasd/u's
death. L'envoy.
and pitiful fate of his consort, he hastened
in his amazement to the gate of the fortress,
and, passing swiftly out, he descended the rocky
steps, and there, stretched by the very corse of
Rájá Hodi, whose charger was still champing his
bit under the mangoe-trees, he found the shattered
remains of the luckless Koklán. Strange and wan
was the proud smile which still lingered on her
Wºº Rājā Rásalu had witnessed the bloody

THE DEATH OF RASALU. 137
lips, and full of pain and reproach the eyes which
seemed to burn into his. Stooping over the dead
body of the only woman whom he had ever cared
for, while pangs of remorse griped his Soul, the king
felt what it was to have loved, and for ever to have
lost. He then took her up tenderly, carried her into
the palace, and laid her down. Both the bodies, his
wife's and her lover's, he laid down side by Side,
and covered them with the same sheet. Then he
considered within himself, . “But if I burn them,
the disgraceful secret will be known abroad. No |
at midnight I will carry them both down, and throw
them into the river.” -
Then, seeing the parrot, he said to him, “Your
partner is dead and gone, so also is mine. Poor
parrot and poor king ! We shall now have to amuse
each other.”
After this the king being very weary lay down
and slept, and, forgetting the two bodies, he did not
wake till late in the night. It was almost dawn
when he approached the river, bearing the corpses on
his shoulders. Just then he caught sight of the old
washerman and his wife going down with a bundle of
clothes. So he stepped aside behind a rock to escape
their notice, and dropped the dead into the river.
As he watched them drifting and sinking in the
dark deep waters of the river, he overheard the woman
R
138 7A/E LEGE AWD OF RASA LU.
saying to her husband “It is not yet morning. To
pass the time tell me a story.”
“What is the use P’’ answered the husband.
“We have to get through the world somehow. Part
of our life is over, and part only remains. We have
no time to waste over stories.”
“But,” replied she, “it is not yet daylight, so tell
me something.” . \
Then said the washerman, “Shall I tell you a true
story, or some other one P” .
“A true story,” answered she.
So the man began,
“Hear me, O wife. Not long ago, before I mar-
ried you, I had another wife. She used to say her
prayers five times in the day, and I thought her a
treasure. Yet, every night she absented herself from
my house for at least an hour, until I began to won-
der what was her motive. At last I determined to
find out. The next time she went away I followed
her, because, I said, ‘Perhaps she goes out to her
prayers, but I should like to see for myself.' I found
she visited the grave of a fakir, and that she prayed
to him that I might become blind. When I heard
this, I could not help feeling ‘Before my face she
respects me, but how false she is behind my back.
To-morrow I will be beforehand with her at the
shrine, and she shall have an answer.’
7 HE DEATH OF RASAZU. I39
“The next night I hid myself in the shrine, and
when my wife came and prayed as usual I answered
her, “O woman, for a long time you have prayed to
me, this time your prayer is answered. Go home, and
feed your husband with sweet pudding in the morning,
and with roast fowl in the evening, and in a week he -
will be blind.”
“I then got away home as fast as I could run, and
when my wife returned I asked her, “Where have
you been P’ -
“I have been in the village giving out the clothes,”
answered she.
“The next morning my wife said to me, ‘Husband,
see, I have here some buttermilk and oil, let me wash
your head.’ - -
“I accordingly undressed. But when my wife saw
my body, she cried, “Why, husband, how thin you
have become you are all skin and bone. I must feed
you up.’ To this I answered ‘Good.’ So my wife
went and made me sweet pudding, which I enjoyed.
And in the evening she gave me roast fowl, which
I enjoyed too.
“After three or four days I said to her, “Wife, I
don't know what has happened, my eyes are getting
quite dim. Though she affected to console me I could
easily perceive that she was glad. After the seventh
day I said to her “Wife, I am stone blind, I can't
140 THE / /2 GAZZVZ) OA' A' ASA / U.
see a thing.” She, hearing this, set up a hypocritical
howl, and, going out, she visited this saint and that,
and offered up counterfeit prayers for my recovery.
“I now took to a stick and acted the blind man
to the life. But one day my wife said to herself,
‘This may be all a deceit ; I must put his blindness
to the test.” So she said to me, ‘I am going out
a-visiting ; if I put some barley to dry, will you take
care of it P’ -
“‘How can I?’ replied I. ‘Still, if you will put it
on some matting within my reach so that I can feel it
from time to time, I will try.'
“This then she did, and I sat by it with my stick
in my hand. In a short time I saw my wife slyly
creeping towards the grain, and when she got near
she felt it. Lifting my stick, I gave her such a
violent blow on the head that she fell almost senseless,
crying out, “Ah, you have killed me !’
“‘Wife, wife,' protested I, ‘how could I tell it was
you? Did I not say I was blind 2 I thought there
was a bullock or a goat here.' - +
“This quite convinced my wife that I must be-
entirely blind, and she continued to feed me as be
fore. .
“Now, the truth was that she was intriguing with
another man, whom she used to visit, though at
great risk, whenever she found the opportunity.
THE DEA TH OF RASA / U. I4 I
This man she now introduced from time to time into
my house. One day, when he was expected, she
sought a quarrel with me to get me out of the way.
‘Why don't you do something P’ said she ; ‘you
are always indoors. Get Out, man, and cut some
Wood l’
“I abused her heartily for her speech, and went out.
When I returned I spied the man sitting in my
chamber, and said to myself, ‘Aha, my friend is
here ! My wife, when she saw me, told him to get
into the great mat which was lying rolled up against
the wall, and he did so. Going to the cow-house,
where I knew there was some rope handy, I returned,
groping all the way with my Stick.
“‘What do you want with that rope P” said my
wife. .
“Without answering, I felt my way to the mat, and
tying it up first at one end and then at the other, I
shouldered it, and said to my wife ‘This trouble
which has fallen upon me is more than I can bear.
I am now going as a pilgrim to Mecca, and this will
serve me as a kneeling mat.' -
“I then went out, but she followed me entreating
me to alter my mind. ‘Don’t go : don’t leave your
poor little wife!’ implored she. -
“But the neighbours said, ‘Let the poor man alone.
What use is he to you now P’ So I got away from her.
I42 TAZAZ ZAZ GA2/V/D OF RASA L. Ü.
“After I had gone two or three miles, the man
inside the mat began to struggle and shake.
“‘Shake away,’ said I, ‘you will have reason to
shake soon. You think I am blind, but I am not.’
“I now approached a village, and the first thing
I observed was a woman baking some bread of fine
flour. When the cake was ready she took it inside
to the corn-bin, where her lover was hiding, and she
gave it to him. Then she came out and began
baking bread of coarse barley-meal. Pretending
to be a fakir I went up to her and said, ‘Mother,
make me some wheaten bread with a little butter.
She answered, ‘Where am I to get wheaten flour P
Do you not see how poor I am P'
“‘Nay, but bake me some, replied I.
“As we were disputing her husband came up and
said, ‘Don’t quarrel, woman, with fakirs.' . *
“‘I am not quarrelling,” said she, “but this man
is begging for fine bread and butter. Did you ever
get such a luxury P’
“When the husband heard this he was angry with
me, and said, ‘If a barley-cake will suit you take it.
But if not, begone !' Then said I, pointing to the door,
“‘They who sit in corn-bins eat fine bread, but
beggars mustn't be choosers.’ *
“‘What's this about corn-bins,’ cried he, “This
must be looked into.” N-
THE DEATH OF RASALU. I43
“So he went in to the corn-bin and there he found
his wife's lover, squatting among the grain, and eating
fine bread and butter. “You are an honest man, O
fakir,’ he cried out to me.
“But he was in such a rage that he drew his knife
and would most certainly have cut the fellow's throat
if I had not caught him by the arm and checked
him, and brought him out of the place. -
“‘Look here,' said I, opening my mat, and releasing
my prisoner, ‘here is another of them. Your fate is
not different from mine, nor mine from other men's.
Therefore do not kill, but let us both agree to make
the best of a bad job, because, you see, if Rájá Rasālu
in his palace, great and mighty as he is, has the same
misfortune as we, and yet bears it patiently, who are
we that we should complain P’” -
When the washerman had ended, Rájá Rasalu
who had overheard every word, came forward and
Said, f
“I am Rājā Rasálu, the king of all this realm.
Ask me for land and you shall have it, or if, you want
money, take it, but tell me how knew you people that
such wickedness was being done in my house P’’
“And are you not aware,” answered the man, “that
women are by nature witches and soothsayers? They
know or they find out everything, and they have been
talking of the doings at Kheri-mürti for days.”
I 44. 7T///Z M.A.G.EAW D OF AZASA / U.
Then the king took them both to the castle and
gave them money, and to the husband he said, “You
are a white-bearded man, old and venerable. Your
years entitle you to respect. Therefore come and see
me often, and let us converse together.” And he
sent them away.
He himself after this grew careless and morose,
and he ceased to visit the field so often, his life
being weary, and his heart broken, thinking of
his dead wife, of her black ingratitude and of her
dismal fate. Frequently the old washerman visited
him and brought him in news from without, and
his favourite parrot strove to consolé him. But his
kingdom was neglected, his conquests forgotten,
many of his followers deserted his service, his guards
of parrots, peacocks, and minas mostly abandoned
the place, and in his vast lonely fortress he lived like
a recluse.
Meanwhile, there were wise women at the town of
Rájá Hodi who had guessed or divined the secret
of Kheri-mürti. One day the Rájá's brothers were
riding past the Common well when the women were
drawing water for their households, and they over-
heard one of them saying,
“Men reckon their darling vices more than life.”
“What is that you say, P” cried one of the Princes
rej ning up.
TP/E DEA TAI OF RA1SA / U. I 45
“I said,” answered the speaker, “that a man who
pursues some cherished object will sacrifice his life
for it.” - -
“But what do your words really signify P” said he.
“If the brothers of Rájá Hodi have any sense of
their own,” replied she, “they have no need to ask.”
On hearing this, they galloped up to the palace
of Rájá Hodi, and, entering the court, they cried,
“Where's Rájá Hodi P Where's Rájá Hodi P”
“Ever since the day on which he left the castle
to pursue the Blue Buck,” answered one of the atten-
dants, “he has been paying visits across the river in
the direction of the castle of Rājā Rasalu. Some
days ago, it is said, he went out as usual, but he has
not yet returned, and we know not what has become
of him.” -
When the brothers heard these tidings they as-
sembled their vassals from all parts, and addressing
them they said, “The king is a prisoner or clse he
has been killed in the country of Rājā Rasálu. We
must rescue or avenge him. Will you stand by us
when we cross the river, or will you go back to your
houses P’’
Then answered they all with One voice, “Let Our
heads be forfeited if we do not stand by you to a man.”
Now the old washerman used to visit Rájá Rasālu
day by day, because the king delighted in his quaint
S
*
-
I46 TAZAZ / EGA, MAD OF AZA SA / U.
stories and good sense. About this time he went up
to the palace as usual, and received his customary
welcome. Said the king to him, “What news
to-day P” -
The washerman answered timorously, “Among the
women of the village there is a strange rumour, but
it may not be true.” -
“Let me have it,” said the king.
“I overheard them talking among themselves, and
they were saying that as Rājā Rasālu had cut off the
head of Rájá Hodi, so his own head would be also
cut off in a few days.” -
When the king understood this, he was greatly put
Out, and rising and pacing the floor he said, “Have
you really heard this?”
“Yes,” answered the washerman, “the women have
it so, but I know nothing about it.”
“I have seen the day when I could laugh my foes
to Scorn,” said the king ; “and still I have troops, if I
can only assemble them in time.”
Then he summoned his warder, and bade him call
out all his followers in the castle. But, when they
were drawn up, there were not a dozen men left to
man the walls.
“Winning or losing a battle is in the hands of God,”
said he to the old washerman, “But what is one to
do with a handful of men like this P”
TAZAZ /O EA 7TA/ OF AZA SA LOV. I 47
Vigorously, however, the old warrior prepared for
a siege. Something of his former spirit returned
upon him as he directed one of his men to gallop
out into the country to order his tenants to gather
their vassals and to bring in supplies for the de-
fence of his castle at Kheri-mürti, and as he assisted
with his own hands to repair the broken battlements
and to close up the breaches. Hardly had he com-
pleted his task, when the hostile force appeared in
sight. They were led by the brothers of Rájá Hodi,
and were fully armed with every implement of war.
They swam the river or crossed it on inflated skirts;
and like bees they swarmed up the hill, and sat
down beneath the walls of Kheri-mürti. Then passed
mutual defiances between the opposing leaders, and
the siege began in form. But Rájá Rasālu, though
re-inforced by fresh supplies of men, soon began to
perceive that the struggle was a hopeless One, and
that the end could not be far off. Resolving, there-
fore, not to be caught like a rat within his walls, but
to sell his life as dearly as possible, he ordered his
troops to prepare for a Sally. That night he piled
up faggots in the chambers of Ráni Koklan, and
set the palace on fire, and, when the flames leaped
up into the darkness of the midnight sky, the
besiegers saw them, and wondered what the unwonted
beacon might portend.
I48 TH/A2 LA, GAZAVAD OA' A' A SAA. U.
The next morning he led his followers down the
rocky Steps, and, as he passed through the Queen's
garden, he looked at the mangoa-trees, and said,
“O, flushed with fruit, or bare of bough,
Fruit may ye never form again,
Dead is Koklán, her place is void,
And flaming red the fires remain!”
Then with a rush he descended to the plains, and
met his enemies hand to hand. There the battle
raged with fury on both sides for several days and
nights. King Rasálu fought like a lion, and many
an adversary went down beneath his mighty arm,
never to rise again. At last his men were forced
to give way all along the line, and the king himself,
wearied out with the long struggle, covered with
wounds, and hemmed in by increasing numbers, was
slain by an arrow nine yards long, which entered his
neck. When the fight was over, his enemies smote
off his head, and carried it back with them in
triumph to the castle of Rájá Hodi.
And thus, according to some of the story-tellers of
the Upper Panjáb, perished the hero Rájá Rasalu,
having outlived the fame and glory of his great
exploits.” -
* Some say Rasálu never died, that he crossed over or descended into
the river Indus to lands unknown, and that, like King Arthur, he will
one day return again. -
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J. EAVIVO V. I49
£(ºnbop.
For evermore, within the bower's recesses,
No bulbul sits and sings melodious lore ;
No verdant April leaf the garden blesses,
For evermore ;
A monarch, robed in might and wrapt in splendour,
Reigns not for aye from sounding shore to shore;
And love, her dear delights must all surrender,
For evermore.
SHORT HOUSEHOLD TALES.
“In Winter's tedious mights, sit by the fire
With good old folks, and let them tell thee tales l’
THE selection of tales and stories which I here pre-
sent to the notice of the reader has been literally
gathered on winter's nights from the lips of the pea-
santry of the Upper Panjāb. So far as I am aware,
not one of them has appeared in print”; but in any
case, whether some few of them have been published
or not, there must still exist in the ensuing series a
peculiarity of treatment and a freshness of incident,
together with many other important points of differ-
ence, which will mark this collection as an original
effort, interesting in itself, and interesting too for
purposes of Comparison. The story-tellers were
partly Panjábis, and partly Patháns; some of
them were tottering old men, and some of them
youths, robust and strong. They are the tales which
are the delight of the village Huzrā on winter
* This preſace originally introduced those of the following stories
which I recently contributed to the Journal of the Asiatic Society
13engal.

I 52 ZEGENDS OF THE PAW/AB.
nights, when icy winds are blowing, and when the
young men gather round the blazing fire to hear
of the fantastic deeds of giants and fairies, and the
adventures of animals and men, or when the village
guest, if not too tired to sit up, alternates the recital
of fictitious wonders by news from the great world, or
Commands the attention of auditors as simple as him-
Self by circumstantial accounts of most disastrous
chances, of moving accidents of his own by flood
and fell. It was at the little village of Ghāzi on the
river Indus, thirty miles above Attak, that many of
these stories were told to the compiler, and transla-
ted to him viva wooe from the Panjábí by his hospi-
table host and attached friend, Thomas Lambert
Barlow, Esq. There, within sight and hearing of the
majestic river of history and romance, in a district
exclusively pastoral, close to the fabled mountain of
Gandghar, in the midst of many a ruined temple and
fortress of an earlier race and a former faith, on
ground historical and even classical, though now so
obscure and unknown, these interesting gleanings of
old-world folklore were carefully gathered and stored.
Exactly opposite lies a line of rocky hills overlook-
ing the rushing waters of the river. On this spot
stood an ancient city of fabulous strength and vast
extent, the home of four Hindu brothers, all of them
kings. Each of the low peaks of which there are
JAZOA’7” AſO USA. AſO/L/D 7.4 ZAZ.S. I 53
several, is crowned by a tower, a palace, or a temple,
while traces of connecting walls and ruined dwellings
traverse the ground on all sides to the very edge of
the cliff. This city according to tradition was so vast
that one of its gates was close to Húnd, an equally
ancient site, which stands on the same bank about
twenty miles to the south. What was the name of
this once mighty capital P Possibly it may survive
among the popular names of the peaks and ravines
On which it was built, as Gállóh, Pihtir, Gharri dhá
Lar, Parri dhá Kátthá, Gadhi dhá Kátthá, Gángarianh
dhá Kassi, Bhoru dhā Kátthá. Hünd has been iden-
tified as the spot where “ Sikander Bádshāh” crossed
over with his conquering army of Greeks, and un-
doubtedly it possessed an important ferry from the
very earliest ages.
A few miles to the north of Ghāzi where the hills
begin to close in, we can almost see the collection of
hamlets known as Torbelá, the inhabitants of which
are addicted to the Curious vice of eating clay, as
people in other parts are given to the Consumption
of opium. Opposite Torbelá stands the warlike in-
dependent village of Kabbal. It is here, between
these two rival villages not more than twelve miles
from Ghāzī, that the Indus breaks through the gorge
of the restraining peaks on either side, the last Spurs
of the Himalayas, forming the territory, in part in-
run
*ēs
1 54. LAEGEAVDS OF THE PAW/AB.
dependent, but partly under our dominion, which
the inhabitants call Yákistain. How beautiful is the
view miles and miles up the river with the descending
lines of the precipitous mountains, one behind the
other, receding ever more and more into blue haze,
until crowned by the distant snows I As one sits in
the warm winter sun, among the river boulders at
Ghāzī, where the gold-washers are busy at work, and
as one's gaze is directed northward, past the bare
tawny hills into the remote distance, one thinks how all
this land was once in the hands of a dynasty of Greeks,
of helmed Menander, or lightning-wielding Antial-
kidas, whose coins attest the excellency of the arts
in these remote places when under their accomplished
sway, but of whose influence every living trace seems
to have disappeared, unless, in the classical designs
of the village basket-work, or in the graceful devices
in red and green on the country nambdas of felt,
one may be permitted to detect a remnant, however
slight, of Grecian taste and western refinement.
Passing on to a Succeeding era, one remembers the
local tradition of king Rasalu, who, from those very
heights to the left, hurled at his rival on the eastern
bank a mighty defiance in the shape of a huge mass
of greenstone weighing a maund and a half. Five
kos it hurtled through the air, and it still reposes
on the spot where it fell. Close to that spot, at the
SHORT HOUSEIOLD TALES. I55
base of the brown rocky slopes flows the tributary
Sirin, famous for the royal fish, Māhāsir, and far
above it tower the remoter hills of Thánnaul, the
district of Nawāb Akram Khán, whose Summer house
gleams from a distant peak. It is, as yet, that
craggy region, a land of mystery and wonder, abound-
ing in footsteps of the “speechless past,” as the
“Aſa/d/ Dz//á,” or, great Rocking Stone, of which the
people tell, and which, though of towering size, can
be moved, say they, by a touch of a single finger.
It should be understood that these tales comprise
a few only of the stories, long and short, which for six
years I have been collecting in the Peshawar District.
The full collection will probably be issued at an early
date, with an introduction by Mr. G. Laurence Gomme,
F. S. A., the Editor of the Folklore Journal (London).

STORY I.
THE WEAVER AND THE PROPHECY.
VILLAGE weaver went out to cut firewood.
Climbing a tree he stood upon one of the
branches, which he began to hew off close to the trunk.
“My friend,” said a traveller passing below; “ you are
standing on the very limb which you are cutting off;
In a few minutes you and it will both fall to the
ground.” The weaver unconcernedly continued his
task and soon both the branch and himself fell to
the foot of the tree as the traveller had foretold.
Limping after him the weaver cried, “Sir, you are
God, you are God, Sir, you are God—what you
prophesied has come to pass.” “Tut, man, tut,”
answered the traveller, “I am not God.” “Nay, but

SATOR T HOUSEHO/CD TA Z.E.S. I 57
you are,” replied the weaver, “and now, pray, O pray,
tell me when I am to die P” To be rid of his impor-
tunity, the traveller answered, “You will die on the
day on which your ſnouth bleeds,” and he pursued
his way.
Some days had elapsed when the weaver happened
to be making some scarlet cloth, and as he had
frequently to separate the threads with his mouth, a
piece of the coloured fibre by chance stuck in one of
his front teeth. Catching sight of this in a glass, and
instantly concluding that it was blood, and that his
last hour was at hand, he entered his hut, and said,
“Wife, wife, I’m sick ; in a few moments I shall be
dead ; let me lie down, and go, dig my grave ſ” So he
lay down on his bed, and turning his face to the wall,
closed his eyes, and began deliberately to die. And
indeed, such is the power of the imagination among
these people, that he would have died without doubt,
if a customer had not called for his clothes. He, see-
ing the man's condition and hearing of the prophecy,
asked to examine his mouth. “Ah,” said he, “what
an idiot are you ? Call you this blood P” and taking
out the thread he held it before the weaver's eyes.
The weaver, as a man reprieved from death, was over-
joyed, and Springing to his feet he resumed his work,
having been rescued, as he imagined, from the very
brink of the grave.
I 58 LEGENDS OF THE PAN/AB.
STORY II.
THE THREE WEAVERS.
HERE were three weavers, all brothers, who lived
in the same village. One day the eldest said to the
others “I am going to buy a milch buffalo.” So he
went to a farmer, paid for the buffalo, and took it home.
The second brother was quite touched by the sight
of it. He viewed its head, its horns, and its teats,
and then said, “O brother, allow me to be a partner
in this beautiful buffalo P” Said the elder, “I have
paid for this beautiful buffalo twenty-two rupees. If
you wish to be a partner in her, you had better go to
the farmer, and pay him twenty-two rupees too, and
then we shall have equal shares in her.”
Shortly after the third brother came in and said, “O
brother, you have allowed our brother to be a partner
with you in this buffalo, won't you let me take a share
too P” “Willingly,” answered the other, “but first
you must go to the farmer and pay him twenty-two
rupees as we have done.” So the third brother did so,
while the farmer chuckled, saying, “This is a fine thing
getting all this money for my skinny old buffalo Pº
The three brothers now agreed that each one of
them should have a day's milk from the buffalo in
turn, and that each should bring his own pot. The
SHORT HOUSEHOLD TALES. I 59
two elder brothers had their turns, but when the
third day came, the youngest said, “Alas ! what shall
I do? I have no pot in my house !” In this perplexity
the eldest remarked, “this is a most difficult business,
because you see if you milk the buffalo without a pot,
the milk will be spilt. You had better milk her into
your mouth.” His ingenious solution of the problem
was at once adopted, and the youngest brother milked
the buffalo into his mouth. Going home he was met
by his wife who asked, “Well, where is the milk P”
Her husband answered, “I had no pot, so I had
to milk the buffalo into my mouth.” “O you did, did
you,” cried she, “and so your wife counts as no one P
I am to have no milk? If I am not to have my share,
in this house I refuse to remain.” And she went off
in anger to the house of her mother. -
Then the three brothers went together to the head-
man of the village, and complained, begging him to
order the woman to return to her husband. So the
headman summoned her and said, “O woman, you
may have your share of the milk too, just the same as
your husband. Let him visit the buffalo in the
morning and drink the milk, and do you visit her in
}}
the evening.” Said she, “But why could not my
husband have said so P. Now it is all right, and
besides I shall be saved all the trouble of setting the
milk for butter!”
I6o ZEGENDS OF THE PAW/AB.
STORY IIſ.
THE WEAVER AND THE WATER-MELON.
NCE upon a time a poor country weaver visited a
town, where he saw a quantity of water-melons
piled up one above the other in front of a bania's shop
“Eggs of other birds there are,” he said, “and I have
seen them : but what bird's eggs are these eggs?
These must be mare's eggs I’’ So he asked the banić,
“Are these eggs mare's eggs P” The bania instantly
cocked his ears, and perceiving that he was a sim-
pleton, answered, “Yes, these bird's eggs are mare's
eggs.” “What is the price P” “One hundred rupees
a-piece,” said the bania. The simple weaver took out
his bag of money and counting out the price, bought
one of the melons and carried it off. As he went
along the road, he began to say to himself, “When
I get home I will put this egg in a warm corner of
my house, and by-and-bye a foal will be born, and
when the foal is big enough, I shall mount it and
ride it to the house of my father-in-law. Won't
he be astonished l’ As the day was unusually hot
he stopped at a pool of water to bathe. But first
of all he deposited the melon most carefully in the
middle of a low bush, and then he proceeded to un-
dress himself. His garments were not half laid aside,
SHORT HOUSEHOLD TALES. 161
when out from the bush sprang a hare, and the
weaver, snatching up part of his clothing while the
rest hung about his legs in disorder, made desperate
efforts to chase and overtake the hare, crying out, “Ah
there goes the foal, wo, old boy, wo, wo!” But he
ran in vain, for the hare easily escaped, and was soon
out of sight.
The poor weaver reconciled himself to his loss as
best he could, “Kismet !” cried he “And as for the
egg, it is of course of no use now and not worth
returning for, since the foal has left it.” So he made
his way home and said to his wife, “O wife, I have
had a great loss this day !” “Why, ” said she,
“what have you done P” “I paid one hundred rupees
for a mare's egg, but while I stopped on the road
to bathe, the foal jumped out and ran away.” His
wife replied, “Ah, what a pity! if you had only
brought the foal here, I would have got on his
back and ridden him to my father's house !” Hear-
ing this, the weaver fell into a rage, and, pulling a
stick out of his loom began to belabour his wife,
crying, “What, you would break the back of a
young foal 2 Ah! you slut, let me break yours.”
After this he went out, and began to lament his
loss to his friends and neighbours, warning them
all, “If any of you should see a stray foal, don't
forget to let me know.” To the village herdsmen
U
I62 A.G.EAVDS OF THE PAN/AA.
especially he related his wonderful story, how the foal
came out of the egg, and ran away, and would
perhaps be found grazing on the common lands some-
where. One or two of the farmers, however, to
whom the tale was repeated, said, “What is this
nonsense P Mares never have eggs. Where did you
put this egg of yours ?” “I put my egg in a bush,”
said the weaver, “near the tank on the way to the
town.” The farmers said, “Come and show us !”
“All right,” assented the weaver, “come along.”
When they arrived at the spot the melon was found
untouched in the middle of the bush. “Here it is,”
cried the weaver, “here's my mare's egg. This is
the thing out of which my foal jumped.” The
farmers turned the melon over and over, and said,
“But what part of this egg did the foal jump out
of P” So the weaver took the melon and began to
examine it. “Out of this,” cried one of the farmers,
snatching back the melon, “no foal ever jumped.
You are a simpleton and you have been cheated.
We'll show you what the foals are.” So he smashed
the melon on a stone, and giving the seeds to the
weaver, said, “Here are foals enough for you,” while
the farmers themselves, amid much laughter, sat down
and ate up the fruit.
SA/O/87 AHOUSEATO/CA) TAZAZ.S. 163
STORY IV.
THE WEAVER-GIRL.
CERTAIN quarter of a village was inhabited
only by weavers. One day a fine young weaver-
girl was sweeping out the house, and, as she swept
she said to herself, “My father and mother and all my
relations belong to this village. It would be a good
thing if I married in this village and settled here too,
so that we should always be together.” “But,” con-
tinued she, “if I did marry here, and had a son, and
if my son were to sicken and die, oh! how my aunts,
my sisters, and my friends would come, and how they
would all bewail him " Thinking of this she laid her
broom against the wall and began to Cry. In came
her aunts and her friends, and seeing her in such
distress, they all began to cry too. Then came her
father and her uncles and her brothers, and they also
began to cry most bitterly, but not one of them had
the wit to say, “What is the matter P For whom is
this wailing P’ At last, when the noise and the weep-
ing had continued for Some time, a neighbour said,
“What bad news have you had P. Who is dead here P”
One of the howling uncles answered “I don't know ;
these women know ; ask one of them l’ At this
point, the headman arrived at the spot, and cried,
I64 IEGENDS OF THE PAN/AA.
“Stop, stop this hubbub, good people, and let us find
out what is the matter.” Addressing himself to an
old woman, he said, “What is all this disturbance in
the village for P” “I don't know,” answered she,
“when I came here, I found this weaver-girl crying
about something.” Then the weaver-girl on being
questioned, said, “I was weeping because I could not
help thinking that if I married in this village and had
a son, and if my son were to sicken and die, all my
aunts, my sisters, and my friends would come round
me and bewail him. The thought of this made me
cry.” On hearing her answer, the head man and his
followers began to laugh, and the crowd dispersed.
* STORY V.
THE TWO WEAVERS AND THE GRASSHOPPERs.
WO weavers took guns and went out for a day's
sport. As they passed through the fields, one
of them espied an immense grasshopper sitting on a
madár plant, which, as they approached, flew on to
the shoulder of his companion. “See, see, there he
is P’ cried he, and, levelling his piece, he shot his
friend through the heart.
SHORT HOUSEHOLD TALES. I65
STORY VI.
THE OLD WEAVER AND THE CAMEL’S
FOOT-PRINTS.
ONE night a camel trespassing in a weaver's field
left there the marks of his feet. In the morning
the owner brought to the spot the oldest weaver in the
village, expecting that he would be able to explain
what manner of animal had trodden down his corn.
The old man on seeing the foot-prints both laughed
and cried. Said the people “O father, you both
laugh and cry. What does this mean P” “I cry,”
said he, “because I think to myself, ‘What will these
poor children do for some one to explain these things
to them when I am dead,' and I laugh, because, as
for these foot-prints, I know not what they are l’
STORY VII.
GRíBA, THE WEAVER.
AT the village of Bhuran lived an old weaver named
Gríba, who, for a wonder, was shrewd enough.
It happened that Habib Khán, the lambardár, laid a
tax on the weavers' houses at the rate of two rupees
I66 IEGENDS OF THE PAN/AP.
for every door-way. When Gríba heard of this, he
tore down his door, and laying it on his shoulders
carried it off to the Khan's. “Here, Khan,” said he
with a profound Salaam, “I have heard you want
door-ways, so I have brought you mine. I also hear
you want the side-walls, and I am now going to fetch
them too.” Hearing this, the Khán laughed and
said, “O Gríba, the weaver, take back your door, your
tax is paid.”
STORY VIII.
THE SILVERSMITH AND HIS MOTHER'S
BANGLE.
SILVERSMITHS as a class bear a bad reputation
for mixing up an undue quantity of alloy in the
silver of their customers. There was once a silver-
smith, who, in a moment of disinterestedness, promised
his mother that he would give her a bangle which
should contain nothing but pure silver. “You are my
mother,” said he, “and I as your son who owe you
so much cannot do less.” So he cast a bangle for
his mother out of unmixed silver, and when it was
finished, he stored it up for her and went to bed.
But he was quite unable to get a wink of sleep.
He turned from side to side, and moaned and fretted
SAHORT HOUSEA/O J.A.) T.A. L.E.S. I67
in torment, frequently exclaiming, “Ah, that wretched
bangle ! What a simpleton was I to make a bangle
without alloy l’ At last he could stand it no longer,
So he got up, lighted his lamp, and did not rest until,
having melted down the silver once more, he had
re-cast it with a considerable admixture of base metal.
Then with a conscience purged of offence he return-
ed to his deserted couch, and in an instant he was
asleep, while a fat smile of pleasure and contentment
betokened the satisfaction of his mind.
STORY IX.
THE PATHAN AND THE PLUMS.*
HERE is a certain small black plum grown in the
Hazará District, called the Amlok, which, when
dried, looks like a species of black beetle. One day a
Pathán stopped in a bazár and bought some of them,
laying them in a corner of his länghi. As he went
along he took out a handful in which there chanced
to be one of these beetles alive, and the little creature
feeling the pressure of the man's hand began buzzing
and Squealing. But the Pathán determined to be de-
prived of no portion of his money's worth, said,
* This tale and “The Pathán and the Ass” ridicule two of the
principal characteristics of the Patháns according to popular estimation,
168 A.EGENDS OF THE PAN/AA.
*—
“Friend, you may buzz, or, friend, you may squeal,
but in the measure you came, and in the measure you’ll
go.” Saying which, he clapt the whole handful,
plums and beetle together, into his mouth, and de-
voured them. - -
STORY X.
THE PATHAN AND THE ASS,
A PATHAN was one day sitting in a ferry-boat
which was moored to the bank of the Indus. His
tulwär or sword lay by his side. Presently down came
a countryman driving a donkey and requesting to be
ferried across the river. The donkey, however, having
come to the boat refused to enter, utterly regardless
of entreaties, threats, and blows. Suddenly the Pa-
than sprang from his seat, seized his tulwār, and at a
blow smote off the donkey's head. “To a Pathán,”
cried he, “this stubborn pride is permissible ; but to a
jackass—never !”
The people of Baneyr, though noted for their bra-
very, are considered by their neighbours as the most
stupid of mankind, not even excepting weavers.
This fact is illustrated by the following anecdotes —
SAHORT HOUSEAE/O/CD TAZAZ.S. I69
STORY XI.
THE BANEYR MAN AND THE MILL.
A BANEYRI came down to the Indus where he saw
a water-mill at work. Said he to himself, “People
say that God is known by His wonderful ways. Now
here is a wonderful thing with wonderful ways, though
it has neither hands nor feet. It must be God.” So
he went forward and kissed the walls, but he merely
cut his face with the sharp stones.
STORY XII.
THE TWO SIMPLE BANEYRIS.
NE Banéyri asked another, “If the Indus were
set on fire where would the fishes go?” “They
would get on the trees,” said the other. Then said
the first, “Are fishes like buffaloes to climb up
trees P’’ ”
* This tale was not a mere invention of the story-teller. It is fre-
quently told in ridicule of the dense stupidity of the Banéyris.
V
17o A.FGENDS OF THE PAN/AA.
STORY XIII.
THE WIDOW OF BANER,
HERE was a widow of Banér who had two sons.
They had cut the harvest of their little ancestral
field, and their two bullocks were treading out the
grain, when Suddenly the sky became overcast, and a
storm of rain swept by. The poor silly woman instant-
ly caught a certain familiar insect, a friend to man,
and, running a needle and thread through it, hung
it up to a neighbouring ber tree, as a charm to
drive away the unwelcome shower. At the same time
she addressed God in the following words: “O God,
my boys are but children, and in this thing are
innocent. But thou art a white-bearded man. Didst
thou not see that this rain was not wanted for-thrash-
ing out my wheat P”
STORY XIV.
THE BANEYR MAN AND THE BOAT,
A COUNTRYMAN who had spent the whole of his
life in the fastnesses of Banéyr, and had never
seen the Indus, determined to perform a journey.
Descending to the Yusafzai plains he made his way
*
–4
JAHOA’7” AſO USA. A. O/L/D 7"A/LA.S. 171
to Attak, and when he saw one of the large eight-oared
ferry boats crossing with the flood to the opposite
bank of the river, he cried to the by-standers—
“What long legs that creature must have ſ”
STORY XV.
THE BANEYRI AND HIS DROWNED WIFE.
HERE was once a sudden flood in the Indus which
washed away numbers of people, and among
others, the wife of a certain Banéyri. The distracted
husband was wandering along the banks of the river
looking for the dead body, when a countryman accosted
him thus, “O friend, if, as I am informed, your wife has
been carried away in the flood ; she must have floated
down the stream with the rest of the poor creatures.
Yet, you are going up the stream.” “Ah Sir,” answered
the wretched Banéyri, “you did not know that wife of
mine. She always took an opposite course to every-
one else. And even now that she is drowned, I
know full well that if other bodies have floated down
the river, hers must have floated up !”
172 ZEGENDS OF THE PAW/AB.
STORY XVI.
THE BANEYRI AND HIS POOR KINSMAN.
A POOR man of Banéyri, unable to support himself
in his native mountains, set out for Hindustán to
seek his fortune, and there rose to the rank of Nawāb.
One of his poor relations, hearing of his good fortune,
determined to visit him. So he went to the bazár,
and, with a few annas bought one pound of Sugar as
a neighbourly present for his former acquaintance.
After a long journey he arrived at the palace, and
found the Nawāb in the midst of his fine friends. But
though he winked and nodded and beckoned to him
to step aside for a friendly greeting, and to receive
his pound of sugar, his efforts to engage the great
man's attention were quite unsuccessful. At last, per-
ceiving that his unwelcome visitor was about to open
his mouth, the Nawāb said to one of his attendants,
“Conduct this poor stranger to my store-room
where my bags of Sugar are laid up, and there let
him sit down and eat his fill.” Then he caused
a letter to be written to his native village, sternly
forbidding any more of his poor ill-clad kinsmen
to trouble him with their objectionable presence,
SA/OA. T HOUSEHO/CD 7TA/LA.S. I 73
STORY XVII.
THE PHILOSOPHIC BANEYRI.
A BANEYRI said to his wife one night, “Man is
but a bird without wings I’’
“How is that P” asked the woman.
“Do you not see P” answered he, “yesterday you
were squatting on this side of the Öven, and I was
crouching on the other. And this is the state of man;
one day perched here, another day perched there,
always on the hop, never abiding in the one place.
J }
!
Truly, man is only a bird without wings
STORY XVIII.
THE BANEYRI AND HIS MOTHER.
NE of these eccentric Banéyris went out coursing
on the hills, and he took his mother with him to
assist him in the sport. The woman had charge of
the hound, but instead of simply holding the short
leash in her hand, she tied it in a fast knot round her
wrist. When the game was put up the dog made a
sudden bound, by reason of which the unfortunate
woman was jerked forward over the animal's head,
I 74 A GENDS OF THE PAN/AA.
and, as she came into violent contact with a sharp
rock, she was unluckily killed. The dutiful son,
with mingled feelings of admiration and sorrow,
carried his mother home and buried her, and never
afterwards did he cease to honour her, saying to his
friends, “My poor mother was such an excellent
courser that she outstripped the very dogs, and left
them miles behind.”
STORY XIX.
THE MAN AND THE BEAR.
ONE day, when the river was in flood, a certain dark
object was seen floating down the stream. There--
upon a poor man, mistaking it for a log of wood,
plunged into the water, and Swimming with vigorous
strokes seized it with both his hands. When too
late he discovered that he was clasped in the shaggy
embrace of a bear. “Ho !” Cried his friends from the
shore when they saw him drifting, “let the log go let
the log gol” “Just what I am trying to do,” answer-
ed the unhappy man, “but the log won't let me go "*
* Logs of deodár are frequently floated down the Indus from the
Himálayas. During floods many of these logs are washed away from
the “timber-yards” far up in the mountains. For every log re-
covered the villagers along the banks receive a reward of four annas
from the owners. Each log bears its owner's mark.
SAHOA&T A/O US EA/O/LD TAZAZ.S. 175
STORY XX.
THE MISER AND THE GRAIN OF WHEAT.
GREAT miser was once sitting on a precipice and
dangling his feet over the edge. Hunger having
become insupportable, he took out his Small bag of
parched grain, and began to toss the food, grain by
grain, into his mouth. All at Once a single grain miss-
ed its destination and fell to the bottom of the ravine.
“Ah ! what a loss” cried he. “But even a grain of
wheat is of value and only a simpleton would lose it.”
Whereupon he incontinently leaped down from the
rock, and broke both his legs.
STORY XXI.
THE MISER AND THE PICE.
MISER once found his way into the bazár to buy
bread. The weather was unusually warm, and as
he trudged along, the perspiration gathered round the
coin, which was closely clutched in his hand. Arrest-
ing his steps, he gazed at the moist piece with a fond
eye and said, “I won't spend you—weep not, dear
Friend—we shall not separate after all—I will starve
first l” So he restored the money to his bag, and
begged for Scraps from door to door.
176 LEGENDS OF THE PAN/AAE.
STORY XXII.
THE TWO MISERS.
ONCE upon a time two misers hobnobbed together
to eat their food. One of them had a small vessel
of ghee into which he sparingly and grudgingly dip-
ped his morsels of bread. The other miser, observing
this, protested vehemently against such wasteful ex-
travagance. “Why waste so much ghee P” said he ;
“and why do you risk the waste of so much more
seeing that your bread might slip from your fingers,
and become totally immersed ? Think better of it,
and imitate me. I take my vessel of ghee, and hang
it just out of reach to a nail in the wall. Then
I point at the ghee my Scraps of bread, one by one
as I eat, and I assure you I not only enjoy my ghee
just as well, but I make no waste.”
* This anecdote is an instance of the truth of the saying of Solo-
mon—“There is no new thing under the sun.” Many readers will be
reminded of the Irish dish “Potatoes and point,” consisting of a large
supply of potatoes and of a very limited supply of meat, bacon, or even
fish. The potatoes are eaten, but the more solid fare is merely pointed
at. The following passage from Carlyle’s “Count Cagliostro” refers
to this singular custom—“And so the catastrophe ends by bathing our
poor half-dead Recipiendary first in blood, then, after some genuflexions,
in water; and ‘serving him a repast composed of roots,'—we grieve to
say, mere potatoes—and—point "
SHORT HOUSEHOLD TALES. 177
STORY XXIII.
THE ELEPHIANT AND HIS KEEPER.”
HERE was an elephant which was accustomed to
suffer most cruel treatment at the hands of his
keeper, and the keeper, knowing the sagacity of these
animals, and being in fear of his life, used to sleep some
little distance from the tree to which the elephant was
tied. One night the elephant, taking up a long, loose
branch, chewed the end of it in order to separate the
fibres, and, having twisted them in the long hair of the
sleeping man, he dragged him within reach and
trampled him to death. -
STORY XXIV.
THE GARDENER'S WIFE, THE POTTER’s WIFE, AND
THE CAMEL.
GARDENER'S wife and a potter's wife once hired
a camel to Carry their goods to market. One side
of the beast was well laden with vegetables, and the
Other with pottery. As they went along the road,
the camel kept stretching back his long neck to pilfer
the vegetables. Upon observing this, the potter's
* This anecdote, told by a Panjābī, probably belongs to Hin-
distán. -
- W
178 ZEGENDS OF THE PAN/AB.
wife began laughing, and jested her friend on her ill-
luck. “Sister,” said she, “at the end of the journey
there will not be a single vegetable left— you’ll have
nothing whatever to sell !” “It is true you are luckier
than I am,” answered the gardener's wife, “but
remember the first to win are the last to lose " When
they arrived at the market-place, the camel-man
ordered his animal to kneel down, but the weight on
one side was So much greater, by this time, than the
weight on the other, that the camel gave a lurch as he
got on his foreknees, and crushed the pottery between
himself and the earth, so that most of it was smashed,
and what was not smashed was cracked. So it ended
that the gardener's wife had something at least to sell,
but the potter's wife had nothing.
STORY XXV.
THE MULE AND THE TRAVELLER.
CERTAIN mule, having a great opinion of him-
self, began braying pretentiously, so that every
one stopped to say “Who is that P” A traveller, passing
by at that moment, said to him, “O Sir, pray tell me
what was the name of your mother P” “My mother's
name was Mare,” answered the mule proudly. “And
what was your father's name P” continued the traveller.
SAHORT HOUSEHOLD TALES’. I79
“Be off!” said the mule, “be off! None of your jesting
with me. You are impertinent "
STORY XXVI.
THE BLACK BEE AND THE BLACK BEETLE.
A VILLAGER once reared a black bee and a
black beetle together, imagining them to be bro-
thers. In looks they were not unlike, and the “boom”
which they uttered seemed precisely the same. One day
he set them flying. The bee lighted on a rose, while the
beetle settled on a dunghill. “Ah,” said the village
seer, “these creatures are like ourselves, and it is only
by observation that we can say who is worthy of
friendship and who is not.”
*-mº sºmeºs sº-º-º-º:
STORY XXVII.
THE TIGER AND THE CAT.
TIGERs at first were ignorant, until the king of the
tigers once came to the cat and begged him for
lessons. The cat consenting, taught the tiger to watch,
to crouch, to Spring, and all the other accomplishments
so familiar to the race. At last, when he thought he
had learnt everything the cat had to impart, the tiger
J 8o LEGENDS OF THE PAN/AB.
made a Spring at his teacher, intending to tear him and
eat him. Instantly the cat ran nimbly up a tree
whither the tiger was unable to follow. “Come down!”
cried the tiger, “ come down, instantly l’ “No, no ſ”
replied the cat, “How fortunate for me that I did
not teach you more | Otherwise you would have been
able to pursue me even here.” -
tºms smºsºsºme
STORY XXVIII.
THE TIGER AND THE HARE.
N a certain forest there once lived a fierce tiger
which was in the habit of hunting down the rest
of the animals for mere sport, whether hunger impell-
ed him thereto or not. All the animals therefore
met together by common consent to consider their
grievances. “Let us agree,” said the jackal, “that
one of us shall be chosen by lot day by day to devote
himself to the tiger.” “All right,” assented the
others; “but first let us see the tiger, and let us
offer him a petition.” -
So they all marched together to the tiger's den, and
humbly besought him to cease from indiscriminate
slaughter, and to be satisfied with the animal which
should voluntarily come to him every day. “Do not
hunt us down,” said they, “for one of us will always
SA/O/87' AſO USA. AEIO/C/D TAZAZ.S. I8 I
come to be devoured by you, and this plan will save
you trouble as well.” “No, no l’’ said the tiger, “I shall
use my claws and my teeth and so eat my food.”
“But,” said the animals, “God has said that we
ought to live in hope.” “True,” answered the tiger,
“but He has also bidden every one to earn his own
bread.” - • *
At last, after much argument, the tiger suffered
himself to be persuaded, and made a solemn promise
to remain at home in his den. Every day an animal,
which was chosen by lot, went to the den to be eaten.
But when the hare's turn came, she flatly said, “I shall
not go. I shall live my life.” In vain the other animals
tried to persuade or to coerce her. Twelve o'clock,
the tiger's usual feeding time, came and went, then
came one, two, and three. At last the hare Suddenly
started up, and exclaiming “Now I’m off!” she set out
for the den. As she approached, she saw the famish-
ed tiger tearing up the earth in fury, and heard him
bellowing, “Who is this ridiculous little hare, to dare
to keep me waiting P” “But I have an excuse,” pro-
tested the hare. “What excuse P” demanded the tiger.
“To-day,” said the hare, “it was not my turn to come
but my brother's. I am thin, but my brother is plump
and fat. My brother had started for your den, but on
the way he fell in with another tiger which wanted to
eat him, and in fact he caught him and was carrying
I 82 LEGENDS OF THE PAW/AA.
him off, when I came up and said to him, ‘This
country is not yours but another tiger's,” to which the
strange tiger answered, “Go you at once and call that
tiger out, and then he and I will have a fight.’ So here
I am, sir, sent to deliver the challenge. Come and
kill the villain for us !”
Full of rage and jealousy the tiger said to the hare,
“Lead on,” and the pair started forth to seek
the rival tiger. As they went along, the hare Sud-
denly began to look alarmed, and to shrink back
and made as though she would have hidden herself
in a bush. “What is the matter P” asked the tiger.
“Why are you returning P” “I am afraid,” answered
she, “because the other tiger's den is just in front of
us.” “Where, where P” said the tiger, peering for-
ward with searching eyes. “I see no den.” “It is
there,” replied the hare, “don’t you see it now P’’
“I see no den whatever,” said the tiger. “Is there
no way to persuade you to come forward and show
me the place P” “Yes,” said the hare, “if you will
please carry me under your arm.”
So the tiger lifted the hare under his arm, and,
guided by her directions, he unexpectedly found him-
self close to a large well. “This is the den of the
other tiger,” whispered the hare. “Look in and you
will see him.” Going to the brink and looking down,
the tiger saw at the bottom the reflection of himself
SA/OA&T A/O USAFAFO/L/O 7.4 ZAZ.S. I83
and of the hare, and imagining that he was looking
at his enemy in possession of the fat brother, he
dropped the nimble hare which easily escaped, and
with a roar he leaped in the water, where, after strug-
gling for many hours, he finally expired, and thus the
forest was happily rid of a tyrant.
STORY XXIX.
THE DOG AND THE COCK.
NCE upon a time a dog and a cock were sworn
friends. But a famine fell on the land, and the dog
said to the cock, “There is no food for me here, so I
am going away to another country. I tell you this
that you may not blame me, and say, ‘This dog was
my friend, but he left me without a word l’” The
cock answered, “O dog, we are both friends. If you
go, I go. Let us go together, and as you are a dog
you can forage for us both, since, if I expose myself,
the village dogs will set on me and eat me up.”
“Agreed,” said the dog, “when I go for food,
you shall hide in the jungle, and whatever I find I
will fetch to you, and we'll share and share alike.”
So the two friends set out. After a time they began
to approach a village, and the dog said, “Now I am
going forward for food, but do you remain here,
184 A.EGEAVDS OF THE PAN/AA.
*===
Only, first of all, if anything should happen to you
when I am away, how shall I know it P” Said the
cock, “Whenever you hear me crow several times,
then hasten back to me.” So for some time they
lived happily, the dog bringing in supplies every day,
while at night he slept beneath the tree on which the
Cock Sat safely at roost.
One day, in the absence of the dog, a jackal came
to the tree and looking up, said, “O uncle, why
pray, are you perched so high P Come down and let
us Say Our prayers together ſ” “Most willingly,”
answered the cock, “but first let me cry the bhängh”
for all good Musalmans to come and join us.” So
the cock crew most lustily three or four times, until
the dog in the village heard him, and said, “Ah !
Something is about to happen to my friend—I must
get back.” He at once started for the jungle, but the
jackal, when he perceived his approach, began to
sneak off. Then cried the cock, “O good nephew,
don't go away, stop at any rate for prayers. See, here's
a pious neighbour coming to join us!” “Alas !
friend, I would stop with pleasure,” replied the
jackal, “but it just occurs to my mind that I quite
forgot to perform my ablutions. Farewell ” And
quickening his pace, he disappeared.
* The Musalman cry to prayers is called the BHANGH, So also is
the crow of a cock,
SAO/PT HOUSEHOLD TALES. 185
STORY XXX.
THE JACKAL AND THE VOICE OF FAME.
JACKAL prowling round a village one evening
was spied by some of the village dogs which
instantly gave the alarm. At the same time some
wayfarers began to point at him and cry, “See, there
he goes there he goes ſ” “This always strikes me as a
most remarkable thing,” said the jackal, as he cleared
off; “I haven't a single acquaintance out of my own
Set in the world, and yet, wherever I go, everyone
seems to know me ! How inconvenient is fame !”
STORY XXXI.
THE PAINTED JACKAL.
A PROWLING jackal once fell into a large vessel
full of dye. When he returned home, all his
astonished friends said, “What has befallen you?” He
answered with a curl of his tail, “Was there ever any-
thing in the world so fine as I am P. Look at me ! Let
no one ever presume to call me jackal' again.” “What
then are you to be called P” asked they. “‘Peacock',
X
I86 LEGEAVDS OF THE PAN/A1B.
you will henceforth call me ‘peacock',” replied the
jackal, strutting up and down in all the glory of sky-
blue. “But,” said his friends, “a peacock can spread his
tail magnificently. Can you spread your tail P” “Well,
no I cannot quite do that,” replied the jackal. “And a
peacock,” continued they, “can make a fine melodious
cry. Can you make a fine melodious cry P” “It
must be admitted,” said the pretender, “that I cannot
do that either.” ..?
“Then,” retorted they, “it is quite evident that if
you are not a jackal, neither are you a peacock.”
And they drove him out of their company.
STORY XXXII.
THE JACKAL AND THE EWE-SHEEP.
NCE upon a time a certain jackal made a dash at a
ewe-sheep, hoping to catch her. The sheep rush-
ed into a half-dry tank where she stuck in the mud.
The jackal attempting to follow her stuck in the mud
too. Then said the jackal, “O aunt, this is a bad busi-
ness!” “O nephew,” answered she, “it is by no means
So bad as it will be soon, when my master appears.
SA/OA” T A/O USA. AſO LD TA CAES. 187
On his shoulder he will carry a sángal (forked-stick),
and behind him will follow his two dogs, Dabbā and
Bholū. One blow with his stick will hit you in two
places, and his dogs will drag you out by the haunches.
Then, dear nephew, you will know this business is not
So bad now as it will be then "
STORY XXXIII.
THE JACKAL AND THE FLEAS.
HERE was once a jackal so infested with fleas
that life was a burden to him. Determined to be
rid of them, he sought for a pool of water, and
Snatching up a small piece of dry wood in his mouth
he began to enter the water with “measured steps
and slow.” Gradually, as he advanced, the astonished
fleas rushed up his legs, and took refuge on his back.
The rising water again drove them in multitudes from
his back to his head, and from his head to his nose,
whence they escaped on to the piece of wood, which
became perfectly black with them. When the sly
jackal perceived the situation of his foes, he suddenly
bobbed his head into the water, relinquished the wood,
and, with a chuckle Swam back to the shore, leaving
the fleas to their fate.
I88 LEGENDS OF THE PAN/AB.
STORY XXXIV.
THE FALSE WITNESS.
A CARAVAN of merchants came and pitched for
the night at a certain spot on the way down to
Hindústán. In the morning it was found that the back
of one of the camels was so sore that it was considered
expedient not to load him again, but to turn him
loose into the wilderness. So they left him behind.
The camel, after, grazing about the whole day, be-
came exceedingly thirsty, and meeting a jackal, he
said to him, “Uncle, uncle, I am very thirsty! Can you
show me some water P’’ “I can show you water,” said
the jackal, “but if I do, you must agree to give me
a good feed of meat from your Sore back.” “I do
agree,” said the camel, “but first show me the water.”
So he followed his small friend, until they came to a
running stream, where he drank such quantities of
water that the jackal thought he would never stop.
He then with some politeness invited the jackal to his
repast. “Come, uncle, you can now have your Supper
off my back.” “Nay,” said the jackal, “our agree-
ment was that I should feed not off your back, but
off your tongue,” dear nephew. This you distinctly
promised, if I would take you to water.” “Very well,”
* “Sore back” in Panjābſ being chigh, and “tongue” fib, there
was sufficient similarity of sound to suggest prevarication.
SHORT HO USA HO/LD TALES. - I89 .
replied the camel, “ produce a witness to prove your
words, and you can have it so.” “A witness I have,
and will bring him presently,” replied the jackal. So
he went to the wolf, and stating the case, persuaded
him to witness falsely. “You see, wolf, if I eat the
tongue the camel will certainly die, and then we shall
both have a grand feed, to which we can invite all our
friends.” The two returned to the camel, and the
jackal appealing to the wolf, asked, “Did not I en-
gage to show file camel to water on condition that
he would give me his tongue P” “Of course, you did,”
said the wolf confidently, “and the camel agreed.”
“Be it so ;” said the camel, “as you both delight
in lies and have no conscience, come and eat some of
my tongue,” and he lowered his head within reach of
the jackal. But the latter said to the wolf, “Friend,
you see what a diminutive animal I am. I am too weak
to drag out that enormous tongue. Do you seize it
and hold it for me.” Then the wolf ventured his
head into the camel's mouth to pull forward the
tongue, but the camel instantly closed his powerſul
jaws, and crushing the skull of his enemy, he shook
him to death. Meanwhile, the jackal danced and
skipped with glee, crying out, “Behold the fate of the
false witness behold the fate of the false witness ſ”
* This story is intended as a satire on the practice which prevails so
widely among the natives of all parts of India of getting up false
cases and procuring false witness in courts of law.
I90 LEGENPS OF THE PAN/AB.
STORY xxxv.
THE FOUR ASSOCIATES.
NCE upon a time, a crow, a jackal, a hyena, and
a camel swore a friendship, and agreed to seek
their food in common. Said the camel to the crow,
“Friend, you can fly. Go forth and reconnoitre the
country for us.” So the crow flew away from tree to tree
until he came to a fine field of musk-melons, and then
he returned and reported the fact to his companions.
“You,” said he to the camel, “can eat the leaves,
but the fruit must be the share of the jackal, the
hyena, and myself.” When it was night all four
visited the field, and began to make a hearty supper.
Suddenly the owner woke up and rushed to the
rescue. The crow, the jackal, and the hyena easily
escaped, but the camel was caught and driven out
with cruel blows. Overtaking his comrades, he said,
“Pretty partners you are, to leave your friend in the
lurch " Said the jackal, “We were Surprised, but
cheer up, to-night we'll stand by you, and won't allow
you to be thrashed again.”
The next day the Owner, as a precaution, covered
his field with nets and nooses.
At midnight, the four friends returned again, and
began devouring as before. The crow, the jackal
SA/OA&T A/O USAFATO/L D 7.4/. E.S. I9 I
and the hyena soon had eaten their fill, but not so the
camel, who had hardly satisfied, the cravings of hun-
ger, when the jackal Suddenly remarked, “Camel, I
feel a strong inclination to bark.” “For Heaven's
sake, don’t,” said the camel, “you'll bring up the
owner, and then, while you all escape, I shall be
thrashed again.” “Bark I must,” replied the jackal,
who set up a dismal yell. Out from his hut ran the
owner, but it happened that while the camel, the
crow, and the jackal succeeded in getting away, the
stupid hyena was caught in a net. “Friends ! friends !”
cried he, “are you going to abandon me? I shall be
killed !” “Obey my directions,” said the crow, “and
all will be right.” “What shall I do P” asked the
hyena. “Lie down and pretend to be dead,” said
the crow, “and the owner will merely throw you out,
after which you can run away.” He had hardly
spoken when the owner came to the spot, and
seeing what he believed to be a dead hyena, he
seized him by the hind legs and threw him out of
the field, when at once the delighted hyena sprang
to his feet and trotted away. “Ah !” said the man,
“this rascal was not dead after all.”
When the four associates met again, the camel said
to the jackal, “Your barking, friend, might have got
me another beating. Never mind, all's well that
ends well ; to-day yours, to-morrow mine.”
192 LEGENDS OF THE PAN/AP. .
Some time afterwards the camel said, “Jackal
I’m going out for a walk. If you will get on my
back I will give you a ride, and you can see the
world.” The jackal agreed, and stooping down,
the camel allowed him to mount on his back.
As they were going along they came to a village,
whereupon all the dogs rushed out and began bark-
ing furiously at the jackal whom they eyed on the
camel's back. Then said the camel to the jackal,
“Jackal, I feel a strong inclination to roll.” “For
Heaven's sake, don’t,” pleaded the jackal, “I shall
be worried.” “Roll I must,” replied the camel, and
he rolled, while the village dogs fell on the jackal
before he could escape, and tore him to pieces. Then
the camel returned and reported the traitor's death to
his friends, who mightily approved the deed.
STORY XXXVI.
THE CROW AND ITS YOUNG.
N old mother-crow was once engaged in giving
sound advice to her newly-fledged young ones.
“Remember,” said she, “your principal enemy will
be man. Whenever you detect a man in the act of
even stooping towards the ground as if for a stone,
SAHOA' 7" HO USA. HO/CD 7.4/.A.S. I93
at once take wing and fly.” “Very good,” answered
one of her precocious youngsters, “but what if the
man happens to have a stone already in his hand P
Can you advise us as to how we shall proceed then P”
STORY xxxvii.
THE FROG AND THE FARRIER,
FARRIER was once engaged in shoeing a fine
Arab horse at the door of his smithy. Just then
a frog came hopping up, and, thrusting out one of
his feet with a consequential air, he cried, “Ho,
farrier | Shoe me, too ! shoe me, too !”
STORY XXXVIII.
THE FROG AND THE BUFFALO.
NE day, after rain, a frog was sitting in the deep
foot-print of a bullock by the road-side, when a
buffalo approached. To him the frog cried out with
a look of disdain, “O you great-bellied, long-titted,
beast, here's a houri sitting in the way. Take care
where you tread ſ” , -
y
I94 A GENDS OF THE PAN/AP.
“Pooh, pooh ſ” answered the buffalo, “how could
you expect me to see a little snub-nosed urchin like
you, Squatting in that bit of a hole P”
STORY XXXIX.
THE FROG AND KASHMIR.
CERTAIN frog, after several ineffectual attempts,
managed to climb to the top of a clod of earth
close to the puddle in which he was spawned. “Ah Pº
cried he, casting one eye at some cattle which were
grazing near, “what a grand sight have I I see
|Kashmir I see Kashmir l’’
*m ammºm smºs
STORY XL.
THE CAMEL AND THE RAT.
CERTAIN camel, having strayed from his owner,
was walking in unfrequented ways with his nose-
string trailing upon the ground. As he went slowly
along, a rat picked up the end of the string in his
mouth, and trotted on in front of the huge animal,
thinking all the time to himself, “What strength I must
have to be leading a camel !” After a little time they
SATO/87' AſO USA. HO//D 7TA A. E.S. I95
came to the bank of a river which crossed the path,
and there the rat stopped short. Said the camel,
“Pray Sir, go on.” “Nay,” answered his companion,
“the water is too deep for me.” “Not at all,” said the
camel, “let me try the depth for you.” Halting in the
middle of the stream the camel looked round, and
cried, “you see I was right—the water is only knee-
deep, so come along !” “Ah !” said the rat, “but there
is a trifling difference between your knees and mine,
don't you see Pray carry me over.” “Confess your
fault,” replied the camel, “consent to acknowledge
your pride, and promise to be humble-minded for the
future, and I will carry you over in safety.” To this
request the rat gladly agreed, and so the two passed
Over. - - -
STORY XLI.
THE FAMOUS SAINT AND THE PILGRIM.
THERE was a certain saint, by name Abul Hassan,
whose power and Sanctity were noised all over
the country. One day, a pilgrim came from a distant
land for the Sole purpose of Seeing him, but when he
I96 LEGENDS OF THE PAW/AB.
called at the house he found that he was absent.
“Where has he gone P” enquired he of his wife. Now,
the saint's wife was a hard woman, bitter and pee-
vish in speech, and, instead of answering the question
she began to abuse her husband with unmeasured
violence, so that, hearing her words, the pilgrim lost
all faith in the holiness of the person he had travel-
led so far to see. As he left the house he said to
some of the neighbours. “This saint of yours—
where is he?” They answered, “He has gone to the
hills to gather sticks.” “Though I no longer believe
in him,” said the pilgrim to himself, “I will at least
look upon his face before I return.”
So he set out forthwith for the jungle, but he had not
proceeded far when he met the holy man face to face.
His wood was borne before him by a tiger, and in his
hand, instead of a whip, he carried a snake. Then
the pilgrim fell at his feet, and said, “At the reproach-
ful words of your wife my faith decreased, but I now
perceive that verily you are a saint indeed. Pray
forgive me !” -
“He who will exercise invincible patience,” an-
Swered the saint, “especially with a shrew of wife,
shall command the very tigers and they will obey
him, for patience is rewarded of God. But a scold-
ing wife can no man tame, yea, She is past even
praying for.”
SAHOA” T HOUSE HO/CD TALAZ,S. I 97
STORY XLII.
THE THIEF AND THE POOR MAN.
THIEF broke into a house in the hope of finding
something worth stealing, but, unfortunately for
him, the house was the home of a man who was miser-
ably poor. When the thief entered, the owner was
lying awake, sadly wondering where in the world his
next meal was to come from. He neither moved nor
spoke, but quietly looked on while the thief was feel-
ing along the bare walls, and rummaging his slender
property, trying hard to discover something to carry
away. At last the fellow was leaving the room
empty-handed, when the poor man grinned aloud
with mocking laughter. Turning round in a rage,
the startled thief exclaimed, “What! you are laugh-
ing, are you ? And do you call yourself the owner
of a house P”
STORY XLIII.
THE KING AND HIS DAUGHTERS.
TH ERE was once a king who had several daughters.
To the first he said, “How do you love me P” “I
love you as Sugar,” said she. To the next he said,
198 IEGENDS OF THE PAN/AA.
“And how do you love me?” “I love you as honey,”
said she. To the third he said, “And how do you
love me?” “I love you as Sherbet,” said she. To the
last and youngest he said, “And how do you love
me P” “I love you as Salt,” said she.
On hearing the answer of his youngest daughter
the king frowned, and, as she persisted in repeating it,
he drove her Out into the forest. There, when wan-
dering sadly along, she heard the tramping of a horse,
and she hid herself in a hollow tree. But the flutter-
ing of her dress betrayed her to the rider, who was a
prince, and who instantly fell in love with her, and
married her. -
Some time after, the king, her father, who did not
know what had become of her, paid her husband a
visit. When he sat down to meat, the princess took
care that all the dishes presented to him should be
made-up Sweets, which he either passed by altogether,
or merely tasted. He was very hungry, and was
longing sorely for something which he could eat,
when the princess sent him a dish of common spinach
Seasoned with Salt, such as the farmers eat, and the
king signified his pleasure by eating it with relish.
Then the princess threw off her veil, and, reveal-
ing herself to her father, said, “O my father, I love
you as Salt. My love may be homely, but it is true,
genuine, and lasting, and I entreat your forgiveness.”
SAHOA’7” HOUSA. H. O.W. ZD 7.4 ZAZ.S. I99
Then the king perceived how great a mistake he
had made, and there followed a full reconciliation.
STORY XLIV.
THE FARMER, HIS WIFE, AND THE OPEN DOOR.
NCE upon a time a poor farmer and his wife,
having finished their day's labour, and eaten
their frugal supper, were sitting by the fire, when a
dispute arose between them as to who should bar the
door which had been blown open by a gust of wind.
“Wife, shut the door l’” said the man.
“Husband, shut it yourself l’” said the woman.
“I will not shut it, and you shall not shut it,” said
the husband, “but let the one who speaks the first
word shut it.” -
This proposal pleased the wife exceedingly, and so
the old couple, well satisfied, retired in silence to bed.
In the middle of the night they heard a noise, and
peering out they perceived that a wild dog had entered
the room, and that he was busy devouring their little
store of food. Not a word, however, would either of
these silly people utter, and the dog, having sniffed at
everything, and having eaten as much as he wanted,
went out of the house,
2OO LEGENDS OF THE PAN/AA.
The next morning the woman took some grain to
the house of a neighbour in order to have it ground
into flour. In her absence the barber entered, and
said to the husband, “How is it you are sitting here
all alone P” The farmer answered never a word. The
barber then shaved his head, but still he did not
speak ; then he shaved off half his beard and half his
moustache, but even then the man refrained from utter-
ing a syllable. Then the barber covered him all over
with a hideous coating of lampblack, but the stolid far-
mer remained as dumb as a mute. “The man is be-
witched l’ cried the barber, and he hastily quitted
the house.
He had hardly gone when the wife returned from
the mill. She, seeing her husband in such a ghastly
plight, began to tremble, and exclaimed—“Ah !
wretch, what have you been doing P”
“You have spoken the first word,” said the farmer,
“so begone, woman, and shut the door.” *
STORY XLV.
THE TRAVELLER AND His CAMEL.
(YNCE upon a time a traveller, coming along the
desert road with his laden camel, stopped to rest
during the noon-tide heat under a shady tree, There
S HOA' 7" HO USAF HO/L/D 7TA/LA.S. 2O I
he fell asleep. When he awoke he looked at the
camel, and, finding to his sorrow that the faithful
companion of all his journeys was dead, he thus
apostrophized him :-
“Where is the spirit fled, ah, where,
The life that cheered the weary ways 2
Could'st thou not wait one hour, nor spare
For me, thy Friend, one parting gaze Pº
set first sv site it sarà uſe a
suit are at fifrºi ré Hºrn are a *
* Literally — “Where is the spirit fled which bore the load 2 When
leaving, it saw not me its well-known friend ſ”
Z

A PP E N DIX.
THE PUN/ABY VERSES WHICH occur IV
SHARAR'S VERSION OF RASALC.
HIS EARLY LIFE.
I.
3. Mangal war i nibbiá,
Jammiá chhanchhan vär,
Akrá ràjá jammiá,
Nām rakhia Rasal.
On Tuesday he entered the womb,
He was born on Saturday ;
The mighty king was born,
The name given him was Rasal.
2.
Thorá, thorá tin dissen, Sun Rájeá Rasálūā,
Te bauhti disdi dhuir ;
Andar kappiā kātián lohe chhinnián, Sun Rájeá,
Jhulká piyá tandiár;
Jinán de bete chákari-musáfari,
Unán dián måwān jīwān kür.

A PPAEAWDMX. 2O5
Little, little see I of you, Hear, Rájá Rasalu !
And much see I of dust ;
Inwardly I am cut and pierced with kniyes of iron,
ë Hear, Rājā
I am as burning fuel thrown into the oven ;
Whose sons are in service or travelling,
Their mothers' lives are vain.
3.
Kehre Ráje da tuin betrá
Kyā tumárá nám P
Kehri tumári nagri,
Kehrá tumárá gam P
What Rājā’s son are you ?
What is your name P
Where is your country P
Where is your town P
& 4.
Rājā Sulwān dà main betrá,
Rasalu merá nám,
Siálkót hamári nagri,
Wohi hamárá gam.
Rājā Sulwan's son am I,
RaSālu is my name ;
Siálkót is my country,
The same is my town,
2O6
AA’AAAWD/X.
RASALU AND MíRSHIKARí.
5.
Main ban jamián ban palián,
Ban hamárá ghar vás ;
Brikh jo banná rutthrá
Ayā hamáre pås.
I was born in the forest, I was reared in the forest,
The forest is my home ;
A tree, which is offended with the forest,
Has come to us.
- 6.
Main ban jamián ban palián
Ban merá ghar väs ;
Aisã Zulam né dekheff.
Ke páirín turan palás.
I was born in the forest, I was reared in the forest,
The forest is my home;
Such tyranny I have not seen,
That upon feet a tree should walk,
7.
Main ban jamián ban palián
Ban merá ghar vás ;
Hai nawisht ká bhukhâ
Tab ayā hamáre pås.
A PAA; AV/O/X. 2O7
In the forest I was born, in the forest I was fed,
The forest is my home;
By his destiny he is hungry,
Then came he to us.
8.
Main ban jamián ban palián
Ban merá ghar vás ;
Aisã chalittar heriar” lohbián
Terá ghar-ghar vandsi más.
In the forest I was born, in the forest I was fed,
And the forest is my home ;
Such trespassing tricks are Cunning,
And from house to house your flesh will be
divided.
9.
Trikhi kalm vaganded o zálimán,
Zará khundi kalm vagá ;
Jis bina maintín maren o zálimán,
Zará thori hor sunna.
Thou thrower of the sharp arrow, O tyrant,
Your knife a little blunted use ;
With the lute which has killed me, O tyrant,
A little more let me hear.
* The word heridr is applied to such stray cattle as tres?ass in fields,
2O8
A PAA; AV/O/X.
I O.
Hatti te goshat tilandie,
Tüm kainde kāran tulá P
Jis kāran tuilaondie,
O velrá gaiyā vihá.
O thou at the stall having meat weighed out,
For whose sake are you having it weighed P
For whose sake you are having it weighed,
That time is passed.
II.
Ik marandián do moe
Do marandián châr ;
Chár marandián chhe moe,
Châr purakh do nár.
One being killed, two died,
Two being killed, four died,
Four being killed, six died,
Four males, two females.
I 2.
Chariá Rājā Dharthali +
Kujh na khariá Sáth,
Eh jag aiwen chhapsi,
Jiun täriän khilli rāt.
* Rājā Dharthali. This is another name for Rājā Bhartili, or
Bhartari, the famous king who abdicated his kingdom and became a
fakir, a disciple of Guru Gorakhnáth.
AAA’.EAV ZD/X 209
Rājā Dharthali died,
Nothing took he with him ;
Thus this world will disappear
Like a star-blooming night.
STORY OF THE SNARE AND THE RAVEN.
I 3.
Nile ghore walleå Rasālūā,
Muinh dāhri Sir pagg ;
Nadi rohrendá jhaiá.
Năm Rab de kadh.
Of the grey horse the owner, Rasālu,
On your face a beard, on your head a turban,
On the river floats a hedgehog,
In God’s name take him out !
I4.
Sappán te jhāián dhuiron-durai sang ;
Merá ji chhopdettin khair Khudā thin mang,
Snakes and hedgehogs from the first were related ;
My life vouchsafe and ask a blessing from God.
I 5.
Sappán te jhāián dutron-durái wair ;
Gáfal kohárá mariá tudh ápo àpne pair.
A I
2 I O A PPAEAV/OMX.
Snakes and hedgehogs from the first were at
enmity ;
O foolish one, you have struck the axe upon your
own foot.
RASALU AND SIRIKAP.
I6.
Biábán wich ai rātri,
Moe kurange * pas;
Je moe kurange Rabbā jí páin
Tân bātān karie châr,
In the desert has come night, near the dead
body ;
If to the dead body God will grant life,
Then four words we shall speak.
I 7.
Is nagri ik mánis àyá
Oh már karendá mar ;
US patülání kattián,
Main gir parſ Jhudhál,
Afth tote hoi mungali,
Te naum tote ghariál ;
Nas tuin mere bablá,
Tere marn di äie war.
* Kurangg is a skeleton. It also means a deer. Near Rawal
Pindi too there is a small river so named.
+ Patülán does not mean the ropes, but the bar or plank on which
the swinger sits. A youth after betrothal always supplies his fiancée
and her friends with both ropes and patulan on feast days. The patūl
is ºnly gaily painted. It is also named bindă, and, if not painted,
danda.
APPENDIX. 2 II
To this city a man has come,
He is killing and killing ;
He cut my swing-ropes,
I Jhudhál fell down.
Eight pieces became the mallet,
And nine became the gong ;
Run thou, my father,
Thy death's turn has come.
I8.
Ik mard dekhed chaudháriá,
Pair nile gallál,
Sir te pairin ékhie
Surte den vichár.
A man was seen four-bearded,
Feet blue and neck red;
The first and last is told,
The wise will give the answer.
I9.
Ikachambhá dekhed tere shehr grân,
Bakri nigaliá ghorá ate Satth grán,
Ganjá pání pigiá Rávi te Chenā.
A strange thing has been seen in your town,
A goat has swallowed a horse and sixty villages;
And a bald-headed boy drank up the water of the
Rávi and the Chenā,
2 I2
A PPENDIX.
2O.
Dhāl ve påssia dhálweán,
Is bassant* di lo;
Sirán gharrán dian bājiàn, f
Jo Sirikap kare so ho.
Turn, O game changeable,
In the light of this lamp ;
Heads and houses are at stake,
What Sirikap does, so should it be.
2 I.
Dhāl ve pássia, dhálwean
Is bassant di lo;
Sirán gharrān dian bájián,
Jo Alláh kare so ho.
Turn, O game changeable,
In the light of this lamp ;
Heads and houses are at stake,
What God does, so let it be.
THE STORY OF QUEEN KOKLAN.
22,
Ráje Bhatti dā main betrá,
Hodi merá nám ;
Udhe hamári nagri,
Atak hamárá gém.
Cf. basantar, fire. Af • * * *
+ Otherwise—Sirdharán dián bajián—a proverb–Heads and bodies
are at stake, +.
APPENDIX. 2 I 3
~<
Rájá Bhatti’s son am I,
Hodi is my name;
Udhe is my country,
Atak is my town.
23
Tün kehre rāje di betri,
Kehre ráje di nár ;
Taintin uche mehlin chhor ke
Kiddhar già gawār P
What rājā's daughter are you,
What rājá’s wife ;
Leaving you in high palaces P
Whither has gone the boor P
24.
Ráje Sirikap di main betri,
Ráje Rasálū di main nár ;
Maintin uche mehlin chhor ke
Rājā hungia i Sakār.
Rājā Sirikap's daughter am I,
Rājā Rasálu’s wife am I,
Leaving me in high palaces,
The rājá has just gone hunting.
25. <y
Dúr thin àyán main chalke dhauke,
Maintín khabar na rāni kā;
Das kidhron laghdīān paurián,
Te kidhron mehl da rāh P
214
APPENDIX.
From afar I have come walking and running,
O queen, I know not anything ;
Say to which side go the steps,
And which side is the palace road P
26.
Tún diſr thin àyá hain chalke dhauke, sun
Rájeá,
Tainuin khabar nå kä,
Sajeon laghan paurín, Sun Rájeá,
Te khabbedn mehl da rāh;
Jettin bhukha ishaq da, Sun Rájeå,
Mehlán te charh 3.
From afar you have come walking and running,
Hear ! O Rájá,
You know not anything ;
On the right go the steps, hear ! O Raja,
And on the left is the palace-road ;
If you are hungry of love, hear ! O Rájá,
Up to the palace come.
27.
Sun ve toteå ;
Is nagrí ná vassie,
Ie duiron nassie,
Ná koi bhái ná vir,
Aisã Zulam né dekhea,
Jo kuttá kháve khir,
A PPAEAV/O/X. 2 I 5
Hear ! O parrot ;
In this country is no living,
And far away we should hasten ;
Neither is he any brother nor a friend ;
Such iniquity has not been seen, -
That a dog should eat the rice-and-milk.
28.
Sun ve toteå,
Is nagrí ná vassie,
Te diiron nassie,
Ná kói ang ná Sák,
Aisã Zulam né dekhed,
Jo kauwä kháve dakh.
Hear ! O parrot,
In this country we may not live,
And far away we should hasten 5
Such outrage has not been Seen,
That a Crow should eat the grapes.
29.
Terá nakk khundhá minh bupná
Te harni jehá terá lakk;
Kitthe lăwān dastre
Ke tote karrán vakkho-vakkh.
Your nose is aquiline, your mouth very small,
And like the deer is your waist ;
Where shall I put my hands, |
That I may (not) break you in pieces,
A PAAAWDMX.
3O.
Sari ghari kamágre,
Phalghariá lohar,
Dhannii lathi jeth här di *
Kandi jinki nár.
Chhik chhik lawán chhikie,
Mat man dá rahe azár.
The arrow is made by the fletcher,
The blade is made by the Smith,
The bow, relaxed since May and June,
Whose horn-(tips) are hooked,
Is pulled as to the String again and again,
So that no heart-trouble may remain.
3I.
Naunhán nal châwal main chhillán,
Dudh pakáWán khir ;
Mur à tin meri sejte
Tún Ránjhā main Hir.
With my nails I husk rice for you,
Milk and rice I cook;
Return you to my couch,
You are Ránjhā, I am Hír.
32.
Pání cháriá chul te
Baithe mal-mal nahá,
Asan pándhián ntin pandh páe,
Tuin take ser biká,
APPENDIX. 217
Water has been put on the fire-place,
Sit down and rubbing bathe yourself;
Us travellers put on the road,
You for two pice the seer have sold yourself.
33.
Main-tán hans” karke mániã,
Tuin nikliá bagli khās;
Je main jáná bagli,f
Tainuin muil na bherán pás,
I thought you were like a swan,
You have turned out a very crane ;
If I had known you were a crane,
You never had touched me.
34.
Main to khādī khand-khír,
Rihá nimáná phog;
Piá puráná kapra,
Te mangtián Sandá-jog,
I have eaten of dainty food [sugar-rice-and-milk]
There remains my poor refuse ;
The cloth has become old,
And fit for beggar-folk.
* Hans, not really a Swan, but a large white fabulous bird, which
lives on the shores of lakes and seas. His beak is thick, and so hook-
ed that he is able to pick up only pearls, one at a time, which he finds
in abundance, (flamingo P)
+Bagla, a white crane from baggá, white. The Punjábís have a
proverb–Bhárom baglé, andaron käu, Outwardly a baglé, inwardly a
CIOW,
A 2
2 I 8
A PP/E/V/O/ Y.
35.
Rājā pání pive bail vang
Nil na bhere häth,
Kisse Sánwari ne mania
Te piirniã Sári rāt.
Us chhitiã * is putnjhiá,
Tab kajlá inke hāth.
The king drinks water like a bullock,
Lest he should touch the black on his hands,
Some beauty has enjoyed him,
And passed the whole night;
She wept, he wiped [her tears]
Then the lamp-black [stained] his hands.
36.
Akki ná kije dand-mallá,
Te Sapp na khaiye mas,
Puttar paráſá ná cháhie,
Te nā lilän bharie vit.
Dahiman bagáná ná balorie,
Usdá páni jihá Suád,
Sej parní ná manie,
Oh kadi-nā hondi āp,
Hath marori kajlá Stit-pâ,
Te buk-bhar I piwen äb.
* Chhitiá–wept, from chhitná to sprinkle, to wet.
+ The name of a very acrid plant. g * *
+ Buk-bhar—a double handful, the hands being laid together,
A PAA; AV/D/X. 2 I9
The akk should not be used as a tooth-brush,
And the flesh of snakes should not be eaten,
The sons of others should not be fondled,
That your mouth be not defiled with spittle.
The curds of others should not be churned,
Its taste is like water.
The bed of another may not be enjoyed,
It never becomes yours. sº
Your hands cleanse, the lamp-black cast away,
And drink handfuls of water.
37.
Háthon pále rukhre,
Chulián º pāni pā ;
Ján karn hoi chhaoni,f
Aj hor baithe ā.
With our hands we have reared trees,
Applying handfuls of water ;
When they became ready for shade,
Another to-day came and sat.
Y
38.
Ath kurral naun murgáián,
Te panyj bahāle mor,
Itne rākhe hondián,
Maintín kiddharon dhukke chor.
* Chuli is single handful, the water raised to the mouth in one palm.
† For Chhául, shade.
# In the popular imagination the palace-guards assume the shape of
various birds. In reality they were of course men of various tribes.
Query, Iş “Kurral” corrupted from Karrál of IIazarie P
229 A PPA2AWD/X.
Eight Ospreys, nine water-fowls,
And five peacocks have been stationed;
There being so many guards ~ *
Whither came the thieves to me P
39.
Je gharānāghar máre,
Te muſinh-muinh aurén de ;
Je paliárá* jaun chare,
Teräkhhá kyá kare.
If the householder rob the house,
And face to face fix it [on others];
It the fence eat the barley-crop,
What then can the guards do?
4O.
Pet nå tarori addián,
Te tan nä kamchi lá;
Jinna nágar-ballián f tarorián te khádián,
Oh sir desan châ.
My side gore not with your heels,
And my body touch not with your whip ;
Those who break and eat poisonous Creepers,
They will give up their heads.
* Apparently allied to pallátá. a border.
+ tº is a créeping plant also wail. In the Chach plain the word
alli. Nagar-bal is a creeper under which Snakes lurk.
APPENDIX. ... " 221
4 I.
Mehl merá kain taroriá,
Mehlin hoiá pair asár,
Kaun baithä mere palanggh te
Ke dhilli hoi nawār;
Kis mari meri sharak, *
Kis taroriá lilán dá har,
Who broke into my palace,
In the palace are foot-marks.
Who sat upon my bed,
Since the nawàr f is loose.
Who killed my mina,
Who broke your necklace of rubies P
42.
Shārak totă lar moe,
Is tote taroriá merá lálán dā húr ;
Main khauf khāke bhajj gai,
Mehlin hoiá pair asār; -
Main āp baithi hān palanggh te,
Tán dhilli hoi nawār. -
The mina, fighting the parrot, died,
That parrot broke my necklet of rubies;
I being frightened ran away, -
My foot-marks came in the palace,
I have sat upon your bed, •
So the nawār is loose.
* Shārak, a mina, is the local pronunciation of Sárak. º
f f Nawār, the broad cotton tape stretched from side to side and
from end to end of a bed to support the mattress, w
222 APPEAWD/X.
- 43.
Thorá, thorá ghan niwen,
Te bauhti niwen kamán,
Mirakh namdā kyá niwen,
Nitindn Sughar Suján,
Little, little bends the string,
And greatly bends the bow ;
What senseless fool would bend ?
The shrewd and wise man bends.
44.
Thorá thorá tin dissen, Sun Rasálūá,
Tebauhti disdí dhuir ;
Andar kappiā kātián lohe chhinniän, sun Rájeá,
Jhulká piyā tannir.
| For translation see anſel
45.
Nár na kije ládli lat-bawanri,”
Jo has has kare panjás,
Jionde tin maujan, māniān,
Hun moeān-dà khádá mas.
* Lat means a curl. There is a sect of beggars, distinguished by
their curls, Băwanrí means a senseless one, Lat-bāwanri, then, = a
curled fool, a person reckless of appearances.
A PAE EAWZO/X. 223
A Woman should not be made too dear to become
masterful,
That deriding she may give answer;
When he was alive you enjoyed him,
Now being dead you have eaten his flesh.
46.
Uthián desen tånå mehná, O Rájeá,
Te benhdián desen gål ;
Jinna dé maintín taná meháná, O Ráječ,
Dekh marán unnande nal,
Getting up you taunt me, O Rájá,
Sitting down you abuse me ;
Whose reproach is upon me, O Rājā,
Lo, I will die with him
- - 47.
Amb phallo ke nij phallo
Te nijphaltusán nál pá,
Kokal moi dhaul Sakkhná,
Te bhakkh-dirahe agá.
O mangoes, fruited or not fruited,
Never again may fruit on you come ;
Kokal is dead, her palace is empty,
And smouldering remains the fire.
224 APPENDIX.
RASALU AND THE SWANS.
- 48.
Eh márië jhambar * jhākkh dā aihan vath dā
Kauwä mangan laggá já.
Asän jäghātān dittiá,
Is páići nám khudá.
Eh gun kittián maintín augun hoiá
Fajre jhagrá baitha li.
This crow struck by rain-storm and strong snow
Began to ask a place of us.
We then gave him a place,
As he used the name of God.
This kindness doing I received evil,
In the morning he began a quarrel.
49.
Ek din maddi de dhāe
Main phirdá kardá sail-safā, f
Ret phalorde anda milliá,
Main andă chinyju châ,
Dhar sine heth main palliá,
Merá siná hoã khuár,
Jenikal pardá nar hansalá,
Main kardá band khallás,
* Jhambar is driving rain. Jhākkh is strong wind. Aihan is snow
or more properly hail. £ -
f Sail-safá, =Sauntering about for pleasure.
A PA’AºAVZ)/X. 22
Ek nikal parri hansni,
Main kiti ghar di nár,
Ek hans maria jhambar jhakk dā aihan vath dā
Sáthon mangan laggájá, f
Asan jaghan tan dittiá,
In paiānām Khudá,
Hans zát épni pachhán ke
Fajre jhagrá baithê li.
One day on the banks of a river
I was taking a walk, -
Turning up the sand I found an egg,
And took it in my bill,
Keeping it under my breast I hatched it,
And my breast became ruined.
If it had come out a male swan,
I would have given him liberty.
It came out a female swan,
I made her my house-wife.
This swan struck by rain-storm and strong snow
Began to ask shelter from us,
We then gave him a place,
As he used the name of God,
The Swan, finding her his caste-fellow,
In the morning began a quarrel.
5O.
Hor Ráje murgáián, Sun Rájeá,
Tún Rājā Shāhbāz;
Adliniaum tin karen, sun Rajea,
Teri umar hove daráz,
A 3
226 A PA’AAV/D/X.
Other kings are water-fowl, hear, O Rajá,
You are the king-falcon ;
True judgment you do, hear, O Rájá,
May your life be long. -
RAJA RASALU AND RAJA BHOJ.
5 I.
Dhiganjí náh lokobari,
Harat nuin dingſ lath,
Mandi nár ghar chickwin,
Jhuggá chaur-chopat,
Ráh wich ráhdi rāngri,
Panje paiān bhatth.
A daughter bald, a daughter-in-law hump-backed,
To the well-wheel a crooked axle,
A worthless wife expelled the house
So that the house is completely destroyed,
In the road a sown-field,
These five things are most cursed. *
52.
Ráh musáfar trai wal,
Chan, din, daryā;
In men kaun tumárá báp hai,
Aur kaun tumári má.
* Fit only for the oven or kiln,
A PPAEAV/D/A. 227
Road-travellers are three perSonS-
The moon, the day, the river ;
Among these who is your father,
And who is your mother P
53.
Jagg musáfar trai wal,
Bhed, zanåná, te diſld
Jhutthian gallán chhorde,
Ate ná chappá tin nám.
World-travellers are three persons-—
A sheep, a woman, and a bullock,
This lying talk leave off,
And do not hide your name.
54.
Khuſh utte lathe trai wal,
Tere bábal sande pir,
Sáde häth wich chhurian dekh ke,
Unna dé dil hoiá dilgir,
Aise bháge kidhar gai,
Kábul gae ke Kashmir,
At the well sat three persons,
Your father's family-priests;
In our hands seeing the swords,
Their mind became aggrieved ;
So they ran, whither gone (Grd knows),
To Kábul gone or to Kashmir.
228
A PPAEAWD/X.
55.
Gangá jehá jal nahin,
Te channe jehi jot,
Ambe jehā phal nahin
Te nārījehi sot.
Like the Ganges there is no water
And like the moon is no light,
Like the mangoe there is no fruit,
And no sleep like a woman’s,
56.
Har jangal wich main phirán Sun Rájeá,
Ájazphirán fakir,
Tún nahin bhulliá, Sun Rájeá,
Terá aklon bhullá wazir,
In every jungle I walk, hear, O Rajá,
- I walk, a poor fakir,
You have not mistaken, hear, O Rajá,
Your wazir is without wit.
57.
Kachchhe jehá jal nahin, Sun Rájeá,
Te akhin jehi jot,
Puttrán jehā phal nahin, Sun Rájea,
Te sukhe jehi sot,
A PAE/2/V/O/Y, --- 229
Like the water in your flask * there is no water, hear
O Raja,
Like (the light of ) the eyes there is no light,
Like sons there is no fruit,
Like (the sleep of) contentment there is no sleep.
RAJARASALU AND THE GIANTS.
58.
Maintin Rājā karkar nå märio, bhalle mánso,
Main fakir, kādar Alláh,
Tuin sakki bhain innan di, bhalle mánso,
Tún ináh nuin samjha.
- [fellows,
Thinking me a rājá do not kill me, my good
A fakir am I, esteemed of God,
You are own sister to them, O good fellows,
Do you instruct them.
59.
Mehri bhalli tan Sámli
Kapar bhallá safed,
Machhi bhalli so chhoppali,
Ghorá bhallá komed.
Nagri bhalli so chháttri,
Rājā bhallá Sochet,
O nar murakh janie,
Jonár nuin dendá bhet. i
* Kachchhe is literally the arm-pit, the flask or water-bottle being
carried by shepherds under the arm. *
+ Never commit a secret, say the Panjábís, to a woman or a barber,
for neither can keep it. .*
230 A PAE EAVZ)/X.
A woman dark of body is good,
White cloth is good,
Scaly fish are good, -
A bay-coloured horse is good,
A country of warriors is good,
An active king is good,
That man as a fool should be held,
Who commits a secret to his wife.
6o.
Sar te kapar dhondiá
Jāmā dhoti te pagg,
Naun vár gharoliº main bhari,
Tún bāt ná puchhi thag
O at the tank washing clothes,
Having a coat, a loin-cloth, and a turban,
Nine times my pitcher I filled,
You asked me not a word, you deceiver,
6 I.
Des bagáná bhom opari,
Tudh bagání dhi,
Tere káran main märiän,
Merá kain dharawe jí.
* Gharoli, a kind of pitcher. The Panjábís have a nuptial song
called the Gharoli song. At weddings the young girls of the village
bring up a gharoli of water from the well, and, saying the gharoli Song,
throw it over the bridegroom, -
A PPEAVO IX. - 23 I
A foreign country, a land unknown,
You are the daughter of others,
For your Sake I have been killed,
Who will solace me?
62,
Sangal katáwān berian,
Phúk lagãwan ag,
Mere pichhe je tuin marin,
Main marán unnah gal lag,”
Your chains and fetters I will cause to be cut,
Blowing I will set them on fire,
If for me you have been killed,
I will die attacking them (your slayers).
63.
Ajab razáián terian
Tún bará garíbanwāz,
An-hoián hoián karem,
Ár hoián karen fanáh,
Berá rubred wich lähti de
Jhokan den malláh,
Azrāīl farishtā
Bhar-bhar pür laghá
Kyá jantín kya likhia
Sache Sáhib di dargáh.
"Gal, neck; lag, touching, Gal lag, in mortal combat,
232 AAAAAW/D/X.
Strange is Thy nature,
Thou art the great cherisher of the poor,
To non-existence Thou givest existence,
And existence Thou makest nought.
My boat is drifting on the stormy river,
Nodding (with sleep) are the sailors.
Azráil the Angel *
The well-packed boat-load is passing over,
What know I what is written -
(Against me) in the presence of the God of truth?
64.
IDushman marnā te zer karna,
Eh bhallian dà kam,
Maintin man thin duir kar,
Mujh wich had nă cham.
A foe to strike and to subdue him,
This is the work of mighty men,
Me from your mind dismiss, -
I have nor bone nor skin.
* Azrāīl, the angel of death, who bears away the Souls of the
dying.
A PAA; AVAD/X. - 233
THE PUNJABf VERSES WHICH OCCUR IN JUMA's
VERSION OF RASALU,
I.
Ujar khere bivasan
Moiá ná jive ko ;
Moe kurange Rabba ji pawai
Gallán bí karie do.
A deserted house may again be inhabited,
A man once dead lives not again ;
O God, if the dead body rise again,
I will speak two words with him.
2.
Bhatth” thuhádí naukari
Ar bhatth odi chohá,
Uche nakke charke
Tuk khásán dandan ghā.
Cursed be your service,
Curse be your measure of grain
On high peak climbing,
Nibbling I will eat grass with my teeth.
3.
Dum kann merá tuin katteå
Ate maintin laić ullang;
Tad harni da jáeá
Tere mehlán lazawān chor.
* Bhatth, a kiln ; and so “fit only for the kiln or oven.”
A 4
234
APPENDIX.
My tail and my ears you have cut,
And done me a dishonour ;
If ever I was born from a deer
To your place I will bring thieves.
4. *
Tote bendhe upar marián
Ar bendhe chhajjān vichkär ;
Kehi phirni upar sone di jhalkár
Bh mard hai ke nār P
The parrots sit on the houses
And they sit on the eaves.
What is that golden lustre walking on the house P
Is it a man or a woman P
5.
Eh hai rāje di nár,
Oh hun già hai shikár.
She is the wife of the king,
Who is just now gone out hunting.
6.
Mehlān heth bhawandeñ
Shādh hain ke chor P
O, walking about beneath the palace,
Are you a true man or thief ?
AAA’AºAVAD/X. 235
- 7.
Chorán maile kapre,
Shádhán chittá ves;
Teri khâtir ränie,
Harn choráiá des.
Thieves have soiled clothing,
True men look clean ;
For your sake, O queen,
My deer caused me to leave my country.
8.
Chhe-te-assi paurián
A ambán wale rāh;
Ghorá banni amb nal
Artarkash hanne nél.
Six and eighty steps there are,
And the road is by the mangoe trees;
Your horse tie to a mangoe-tree,
And your quiver to the pommel.
9.
Kidhar gawāe ni mirg,
Te kidhar gawáe ni dhor;
Ráh thin bhulke Rájeá Rasalu dá
Banea hain chor.
236
APPENDIX.
Where have you lost your deer
And where have you lost your cattle P
By losing your road, you have become
Rājā Rasalu's thief.
I O.
Sárak meri tuin måri, ujár
Ate maintiá kito i ujár ;
Tad tote déjàeá,
Raje kol Jánwán ghari º nal.
You have killed my mina,
And made me wretched ;
If ever I was born of a parrot,
I will go to the king immediately.
I I.
Sárak meri rāni ne mari
Te maintin kito be-ghor ;
Urh khalo rājā Sutteå
Tere mehlān lagge chor.
The queen has killed my mina,
And me she neglected ;
Arise, O sleeping king,
Thieves have forced your palace.
* Ghari, an interval of time. There are two and-a-half Gharis in
an hour,
A PAEAZAVD/X. 237
I 2.
Chhe-te-assi meri Sárkán
Ate assi mere mor;
ltne rākhe hondián
Kikar lagge chor P
My eighty-six minas
And eighty parrots are there ;
There being so many guards,
How broke in the thieves P
I 3.
Nä marín tan kamchi
Ate ná marin addi pet ;
Tad ghore da jáeá
Le challán mehlān heth.
Neither strike me with whip,
Nor strike heel on my flank;
If I was born of a horse,
I will take you beneath your palace.
I4. .
Bendhian desen tånå mehná
Aruthdián desen gål ;
Jendhā tīnā mehná, rājeń,
Vesan usdenal.
When I sit down you give me taunts,
And when I stand you give me abuse;
Whose reproach (I bear), O Rájá,
I will go with him.
A PPAEAVADIX.
I 5.
Jiuzzde mauján maniézz
Moeán dà khádá mas.
When he was alive you enjoyed him,
When he was dead you ate his flesh.
RASALU AND THE GIANTS.
I6.
Tüm hanjū ni dalká,
Je Rab rakhe terä bachrá,
Main sir desán châ.
Do not shed tears,
If God keep your son,
- My head will I give.
I 7.
Uchche mandal dissan mårián
Dissan hat-pattan bāzār,
Sab dar dissan Sakhne
Kyá wartí Sansár.
High domes and palaces are seen,
There are seen shops and bazars,
That every door is seen vacant
What has happened to the world P
A PPEAVIDIX. . 239
I8.
Nile ghore walleå Rasáluá,
Muinh dhári sir pagg ;
Jehre zālam Sujhne dikhde
A khalote ne aj.
O owner of the grey horse, Rasälu,
On your face a beard, your head a turban;
Those tyrants we were thinking of are seen,
They have come to-day.
I 9.
Nasso bhajjo mere bháio rākhaso
Takko koh galli ;
Valf º Khudā dò àyá,
Mondhe Sãng i khali.
Run, my brother giants, run.
Find the mountain Cave,
The prophet of God has come,
On his shoulders a club is standing,
* Vali, a saint. The word Beelzebub introduced in my verse-render-
ing may be excused by the ſact that the giants imagined Rasálū to be
a demon like themselves.
+ Sáng, for sångal, literally a wooden pitchfork, used for making
fences of thorny brush-Wood.
24O A PPAAVZ)/X.
THE PANJABf VERSES WHICH OCCUR IN THE
‘GHAZí VERSION OF RASALU.
I.
Rain mera hukká piviá P
Kain Satthe khangár P
Kain meri khuti geria,
Je sinni pai nisar P
Who smoked my hookah P
Who spat out his phlegm P
Who turned my well,
Since the channel is wet P
2.
Jiuande mauján manié,
Munián dá khada más,
Dhatth unāndā jívíá,
Jiná bigání šs,
When he was alive, you enjoyed him,
When he was dead, you ate his flesh ;
Cursed be their life,
Whose bope is in others.
3.
Uthian dená mená ràjá,
The bendhá dená gél;
Jinandi dená badiñn,
Sárá marn unande nal.
A PPE A DMX 24. I
When I get up, you give me taunts, Räjä,
And when I sit down, you give me abuse ;
For whom you give me reproach,
My death will be with him.
H_*ENVOY,
Sada nã bagiza bulbul bole,
Sada nã bag bihárán,
Sada má ràj khushi de honde,
Sada nã majlis yarán.
The bulbul sings not always in the garden,
The garden is not always blooming,
Kingdoms are not always ruled in happiness,
Friends are not always together,
A 5

242 A PPEAVD/X.
A DDITIONAL NOTES.
RAJA VIKRAMájīT, OR BIKRAMáJIT, a great Hindu war-
rior, Saint, and legislator. His original capital was Ujain
in the Dakkan, but he extended his arms as far west as
Rabul. (Wilson's Ariana Antiqua). His era, still ob-
served by the Hindus, begins B. C. 56. According to
Briggs he was attacked and slain by Rājā Shalivhan. -
RAJA SHALIVHAN, or SALIVAHANA, the Sulwān of the
Panjābi bards—Elphinstone is of opinion that the exploit
above mentioned could not have been performed by
Salivāhān, whose era only begins A. D. 77. Be this as it
may, his kingdom was also the Dakkan; he was probably a
near connection of Vikramājit, and his empire, according
to tradition, comprised the Upper Panjāb, his capital city
being Siâlkot, * *
GURU GORAKHNATH, the great saint of Tilláh, founded
a sect in the Panjāb about A. D. 14oo. He maintained
the equalizing effects of religious penances, but chose Siva
as the manifestation of Deity. (Cunningham's History of
the Sikhs, p. 37). That in the legends Rasālu is said to
have been contemporaneous with him, shows how the bards
have loved to gather round the memory of their favourite
hero the popular stories of widely different times, a process
which is not without its analogue elsewhere. -
HAZRAT AMAM ALí LAK.—Hazrat is a title of
distinction, meaning ‘Highness.’ Amām Álf, 2. e., the
Patriarch Alf, is the name of the famous son-in-law of the
prophet Muhammad. Lák appears to be an additional title,
possibly a corruption of the Persian A//ia77, ‘The True.”
APPENDLY. 243
r
It is a curious fact that both in the Panjāb and in Afghanis-
tan a fixed tradition ascribes to the Imām Ali in person the
subjection of all those parts to Islám.
Kw AJ& KHIZAR, called by the Hindus BARAN-DEOTá,
i.e. The God of Waters.-Kwájá is a title of honour. Khizar
means ‘green', and refers, say the villagers, to the gar-
ment or robe in which the god or demi-god is arrayed.
Properly speaking he is that saint among Mahummadans
to whose protection all wayfarers commend themselves.
Local tradition, however, states that he was one of the com-
panions of Alexander, who drank of the waters of immorta-
lity. He stands on the back of a fish, and in his hand he
bears a tristil or trident. This tale appears, I am informed,
in the Sakandar Mämá of Nizāmi. It may possibly refer
to the loss of some great captain of Alexander's host, who
perished in the Indus, and whom the conqueror may have
honoured after death by special ceremonies.
The local tradition concerning Alexander himself and
the waters of Immortality relates that the Spring was situat-
ed in the midst of a labyrinth into which the king rode
on a mare which had newly foaled, the foal being tied up
at the entrance. He was in the act of lifting a double-
handful of water to his mouth, when he was startled by an
ominous Croak, and looking up, he saw a raven sitting on
a branch. The bird had only a single feather on his body,
and he appeared to be all skin and bone. “Drink not
of that water,” Croaked he, “I drank of it, and now see
what I am. I am neither alive nor dead, but of all birds
the most miserable.” Throwing the water away, the king
244 - A PPAEAV/O/X.
hastily mounted his mare, which, guided by her maternal
instincts, carried him safely out of the labyrinth.
But the Superstition is not so much Greek or Muham-
madan as Hindu in origin. The villagers believe that their
river-god keeps state beneath the deep blue waters of the
Indus, where his attendants labour with spade and mattock
in diverting the rushing waters now in one direction and now
in another. He is propitiated by little rafts bearing small
earthen chirags or lamps which the credulous country-folk
light up and launch at night upon the bosom of the stream,
to be carried whithersoever Father Indus, of which Kwájá
Khizar is really the personification, may be pleased to direct,
BHAUNRA-IRáki—Bhaunrá is the name of the large
black bee said to be enamoured of the lotus. Iräki is
the term which distinguished a famous breed of horses
from Central Asia, probably Parthia. Irák-Arabi is strictly
the country lying between the Tigris and Euphrates.
BAIKALBATTH.—According to the bard Júmá, it was he
who was the chief of the giants. Sharaf named this giant
Bhagarbhatth.
RAJ& SIRIKAP.-Ghulām, an intelligent villager of Kündt,
in Mount Gandgarh, about five miles from Sirikot, informed
me that Rājā Sirikap was a son of the famous Rājā Bhākhiri,
a brother of Rājā Dharthili, and that he used to live in San-
got-thi-Ghari, or the Fort of Sangot, half a mile from Sirikot
itself on the top of the ridge of Gandgarh, and that he built
Sirikot of men's skulls, as the name according to him really
implies, though he admits that it may also mean the chief
A PPAE/V/D/X. 245
fort.” He also stated that the principal giant had only
one eye.
RAJA Hopi.—According to the same authority, repre-
senting probably the opinion of many others in the locality,
Rájá Hodi’s capital was Ond, on the western bank of the
Indus, and the place of his death Mohat, as referred to
in the Introduction. But Hodi also had a seat at Atak,
and his territory was named apparently from association
with himself—Udhe-nagrí, of Udi-nagri, and in this connec-
tion it should be observed that the name Udi, or Oodi as
it is spelt in the maps, still survives in more than one spot
in the neighbourhood of Atak on the eastern side of the
Indus. i.
But Hodi appears to have been something more than a
mere petty chieftain, for we find his memory largely preserved
as far west as Jalālābād in Afghanistan. When encamped at
that place during Sir S. Brown's occupation of the valley, I
learnt from certain of the country-folk that he was one of three
brothers, all sons of Rájá Afrássà, evidently the Afrásiób of
history (Brigg's Mahomedan Power in India, p. lxx). He is
there called Hüdi or Udi, and his brothers are named
Aianposh and Darantá, all three of them being commemora-
ted, in (1) Hădă, five miles south of Jalālābād, which is
named as Hodi's capital, his summer palace consisting of
vast halls excavated in the conglomerate of the adjoining
... There is a “Sirkap-kā-kot” under the hill, two and a half
miles from Shinkiári, in Hazárá, where coins are found, -
f It is, however, important to remember that there was anciently a dis-
trict in these parts named Udiana, so that “ Udi Rājā’’ may be merely
the king of Udi. (Travels of Hwen Thsang, and other authorities.)
246 AAAAEAVD/X.
hills, in (2) the Aianposh Tope, on an eminence less than a
mile to the south of Jalālābād, and (3) in the charming
spot Darantá, about five miles west of Jalālābād, famous for
its grand caves and beautiful topes. AfrāSSá's kingdom, Say
the people, extended from Jamrūd to Kabul, and it was
known as Bakta Land from the name of the Wazir of a
preceding “Giant” king, the great Naushirwān of Persia,
(who flourished from A. D. 531 to A. D. 579,) and who first
built the fortress of Jamrūd, or rather, perhaps, the tope
thereof, the existing remains of the ancient masonry exhi-
biting all the characteristics of the Buddhist style.
These meagre traditions are preserved by the villagers
of Hādá, who also state that the three brothers were slain
by “Amihamza, ’’ that is, the Imām Ali Hamzá, the son-
in-law of Muhammad, that many of the Buddhist topes
were built by Rājā Udi, that Aianposh wore, as his name
implies, a coat of iron, and that Darantá ruled at Bárábát.
In the Peshawur Valley the following tradition survives
respecting Rājā Hodi and his brethren :- -
“At the time of the settlement of the Pathan races in
the Peshawur Valley, a fort had been built at Ránigat
by a Hindu queen, two of whose brothers also lived at
Chársadda and Peshawur, while Udi Rājā lived in his fort,
overlooking Khairabad opposite Attock. It was arranged
that when danger threatened any one of them, he or she
should light a fire, when the smoke curling up to the sky
would bring the others to the rescue. The Hashtnaggar rājá,
to test his relations, lit a fire; they, seeing smoke, went to his
assistance, only to find it was a false alarm. Some time
A PAAAWD/X. 247
after the queen being attacked by Patháns lit the signal fire,
but, as a false alarm had been given, her relatives came not
to her assistance, and she was defeated. It is said that
during the fight she ascended a large block of stone to
watch for the aid she expected, but being very fair, delicate,
and beautiful, she melted away in the Sun's rays. The
stone is therefore called the Queen's Stone—Ránígat—to
this day, and a red mark on it is pointed out as the stain of
the ill-fated queen's blood.” (Government Settlemen? .
A'eport.) -
RAJA BHoj or BHoja of Malwa.-His long reign, Says -
Elphinstone, terminated towards the end of the eleventh
century.—(Elphinstone's Zndia, p. 231.) - -
GANDGARH.—This name locally pronounced Gangar has
been explained by Capt. R. C. Temple as the “Naked Foot.”
Gand in Panjábí means anything foul and abominable, as
filth. But on the banks of the Upper Indus it appears to
possess an extended meaning, and it may be applied to
what is monstrous, horrible and obscene, as demons, ogres,
and giants, such a monster, for instance, as Shakespear's
Caliban. Gandgarh then may mean the fort or the home of
the giants, a very appropriate name for a spot so fraught with
traditional stories of those formidable races which appear to
have succumbed to the Superior cunning of the smaller folk
of the world.
THE FATE OF QUEEN KOKLAN.—According to the
“Ghāzī” version, and to Jumá's version, Queen Koklán,
when she fell from the castle-walls, was killed on the
spot. Sharaf, however, related an entirely different story,
248 A PPA; AVD/X.
for according to him the queen, though bruised and
broken, still survived, and her husband threw her into a
sack and her lover into another, and laid them on Hodi's
horse, saying—“Go! tell Rājā Bhátti that his son is coming
home to him married,”—and so started the horse for Afak.
On the way thither he was stopped by a scavenger who ob-
serving Koklán's beauty, and perceiving that she was not
quite dead, took her and cured her of her wounds, after
which he married her. She bore her scavenger husband
four sons, Tehti, Kehti, Krehli, and Sehti, and from these
four descend four clans or tribes still dwelling in the hills of
Hazárá. And, say the people, you can easily see their
descendants are of a royal race, because they display
certain royal characteristics, as innate arrogance and pride,
while at the same time they possess qualities of a more
ignoble sort, as meanness and greed, being proofs still
existing of their exalted and of their villainous origin.
THE GAME OF CHAUPAT. --A game of very high antiquity
in India. As in chess, of which it may have been the
origin, it is played on Squares, but the men, which are sixteen
in number, in sets of four, each set distinguished by its own
colour, are all pawns, and the board, which is usually com-
posed of embroidered cloth, is not square, but in the form of
a cross. One Rājā Nall is traditionally said to have been the
inventor of it. It is still in great favour all over the Panjāb.
The game played by Rājā Rasálu and Rājā Sirikap
has many points in common with the famous gambling match
between Duryodhana and Yudishthira in the venerable epic
of the Mahābhārata, B, C, 15oo. (See Talboys Wheeler's
A PAA; AV/O/X. 249
Zales from Indian History, p. 11 ; and Dr. Hunter's The
Zndian Empire, p. 127). .
The following rude cut is from a miserably defective
chap-book version of Rājā Rasālu published in Panjábí
at Lahore. It represents the two kings at the moment
when Rasālu is finally victorious. The action of the con-
tenders, the calm attitude of the queen, the woful concern
of the princess, the complacency of the black whiskered
cat as she mumbles the unresisting rat, the attentive Com-
posure of the spectators dragged in by the head, and the
graphic delineation of the fatal game, are all wonderfully
realistic, while the method of representing the crowded
events of the episode in a single scene, after the manner of
the rude artists of Anglo-Saxon and mediaeval times, is well
calculated to arrest the stray fancy and to arouse the
interest of the bucolic Panjábí.

25o A PPAEAVD/X.
P. S.—Since this work went to press I have seen Soyle
Notes about A’ājā Rasdºlu from the pen of Captain R. C.
Temple, and find that General Abbott was the first writer to
publish in English a story of Rasálu. His version is to be
found in the Journal of the Asiatic Society, (Bengal), for
1854, pp. 123–163.
WAR 13 19
2
2
LC ER, ER, A T A .
On page xiii, footnote, for Otºčkpao-w,
22O,
23O,
line Io,
3) II;
,, 16,
footnote
}}
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duviypoorv,
“ytvos,
etxopat,
/ >
p7)T,
“dight,”
“notice,”
“alli,”
“saying,”
read
} }
a ſykpaq v.
s /
atvvypoortv.
“YTvos.
3 /
evXopat.
/ >
plºt.
“ like.”
“hight.”
“entice.”
“/4//#.”
“singing.”
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