Chapter 14

The prince's servants looked on all the time these changes were taking place, and they were so frightened by them, that when they got home they would not tell the prince or any one else what they had seen. No one lived in this wonderful house. It stood empty in its garden by its tank, and the parrot and _mainá_ lived in the garden trees.

Some time afterwards the youngest prince went out hunting, and towards evening he found himself on the great plain where stood the wonderful palace. He rode up to it and said to himself, "I never saw any house here before. I wonder who lives here?" He went through the great gate into the garden, and then he saw the large tank, and how beautiful the garden was. He went all through the garden and was delighted with it, and he saw that it was beautifully kept, and was in perfect order. Then he went into the palace, and went through all the rooms, and wondered more and more to whom this beautiful house could belong. He was very much surprised, too, at finding no one in the palace, though the rooms were all splendidly furnished, and very clean and neat.

"My father is a great king," he said to himself, "and yet he has not got a palace like this." It was now deep night, so the prince knew he could not go home till the next day. "Never mind," he said, "I will sleep in the verandah. I am not afraid, though I shall be quite alone."

So he lay down to sleep in the verandah, and while he lay there, the parrot and _mainá_ flew in, and they perched near him, for they knew he was there, and they wanted him to hear what they said to each other. Then they began chattering together; and the parrot told the _mainá_ how the prince's father was king of the neighbouring country, and how he had seven sons, and how six of the sons had married six princesses, "but this prince, who was the youngest son, would not marry; and what is more, he did not like his brother's wives at all." Then the birds stopped talking and did not chatter any more that night. The prince was very much surprised at the birds knowing who he was, and all about his dislike to his brothers' wives.

The next morning he rode home; and there he stayed all day, and would not talk. His wife asked him, "What is the matter with you? Why are you so silent?" "My head aches," he answered: "I am ill." But towards evening he felt he must go back to the empty palace on the great plain, so he said to his wife, "I am going out to eat the air for a little while." Then he got on his horse and rode off to the palace.

As soon as he had laid himself down in the verandah, the parrot and the _mainá_ perched near him; and the parrot told the _mainá_ how the prince had heard of the Bél-Princess; and all about his long journey in search of her, and how he found the bél-fruit, and how he was turned to stone. Then he stopped chattering, and the birds said nothing more to each other that night.

In the morning the King's son rode home, and was as silent and grave as he had been before. He told his wife his head ached when she asked him whether he was ill.

That night he again slept in the verandah of the strange palace, and heard a little more of his story from the birds.

The next day he was still silent and grave, and his wife was very uneasy. "I am sure the Bél-Princess is alive," she said to herself, "and that he goes every night to see her." Then she asked him, "Why do you go out every evening? Why do you not stay at home?" "I am not well," he answered, "so I go to my mother's house" (the prince had a little house of his own in his father's compound). "I will not sleep at home again till I am well."

That night he lay down to sleep again in the verandah of the great empty palace, and heard the parrot tell the _mainá_ all that happened to the prince up to the time that he fell asleep in his father's garden with the beautiful Bél-Princess sitting beside him.

On the fifth night the prince lay down to sleep again in the verandah of the palace on the great plain, and watched eagerly for the little birds to begin their talk. This night the parrot told how the wicked woman had come and taken the Bél-Princess's clothes, and thrown her down the well; how the princess became a lotus-flower which the wicked wife broke to bits; how the bits of the lotus-flower turned into a bél-fruit which she threw away; how out of the fruit came a tiny girl-baby that the gardener adopted; how the wicked woman persuaded the prince to have this girl killed when she was seven years old; how he and the _mainá_ had once been this girl's eyes; how the tank was once her heart, and how her body had changed into this palace and garden, while her head became the dome on the top of the palace.

Then the _mainá_ asked the parrot where the Bél-Princess was. "Cannot she be found?" said the _mainá_. "Yes," said the parrot, "she can be found; but the King's youngest son alone can find her, and he is so foolish! He believes that his ugly, wicked wife is the beautiful Bél-Princess!" "And where is the princess?" asked the _mainá_. "She is here," said the parrot. "If the prince would come one day and go through all the rooms of this palace till he came to the centre room, he would see a trap-door in the middle of that room. If he lifted the trap-door he would see a staircase which leads to an underground palace, and in this palace is the Bél-princess." "And can no one but the prince lift the trap-door?" asked the _mainá_. "No one," answered the parrot. "It is God's order that only the King's youngest son can lift the trap-door and find the Bél-Princess."

The next day the young prince went through all the rooms of the palace, instead of going home. When he came to the centre room, he looked for the trap-door, and when he had lifted it he saw the staircase. He went down it, and found himself in the under-ground palace, which was far more beautiful than the one above-ground. It was full of servants; and in one room a grand dinner was standing ready. In another room he saw a gold bed, all covered with pearls and diamonds, and on the bed lay the Bél-Princess.

Day and night she prayed to God and read a holy book. She did nothing else.

When the prince went into her room and she saw him, she was very sad, not happy, for she thought, "He is so foolish; he knows nothing of what has happened to me." Then she said to him, "Why did you come here? Go home again to your father's palace."

The prince burst out crying. "See, princess," he said, "I knew nothing of your palace. I only found it by chance five nights ago. I have slept here in the verandah for the last five nights, and only last night did I learn what had happened to you, and how to find you." "I know it is true," she said, "that you knew nothing of what happened to me. But now that you have found me, what will you do?"

"I will go home to my father's palace," he answered, "and make everything ready for you, and then I will come and marry you and take you home."

So it was all settled, and he ate some food, and returned to his father. He told his father and mother all that had happened to the Bél-Princess, and how her body had turned into the beautiful garden and palace that stood on the big plain; and of the little birds; and of the underground palace in which she now lived. So his father said that he and the prince's mother, and his six brothers and their wives, would all take him in great state to the palace and marry him to the beautiful Bél-Princess; and that then they would all return to their own palace, and all live together. "But first the wicked woman must be killed," said the King.

So he ordered his servants to take her to the jungle and kill her, and throw her body away. So they took her away at four o'clock in the afternoon and killed her.

One morning two or three days later, the prince and his father and mother, and brothers and sisters-in-law, went to the great palace on the wide plain; and there, in the evening, the king's youngest son was married to the Bél-Princess. And when his father and mother and brothers, and his brothers' wives, saw her, they all said, "It is quite true. She is indeed a Bél-Princess!"

After the wedding they all returned to the King's palace, and there they lived together. But the King and his sons used often to go to the palace on the great plain to eat the air; and they used to lend it sometimes to other rájás and kings.

Told by Múniyá.

[Decoration]

XXII.

HOW THE RÁJÁ'S SON WON THE PRINCESS LABÁM.

In a country there was a Rájá who had an only son who every day went out to hunt. One day the Rání, his mother, said to him, "You can hunt wherever you like on these three sides; but you must never go to the fourth side." This she said because she knew if he went on the fourth side he would hear of the beautiful Princess Labám, and that then he would leave his father and mother and seek for the princess.

The young prince listened to his mother, and obeyed her for some time; but one day, when he was hunting on the three sides where he was allowed to go, he remembered what she had said to him about the fourth side, and he determined to go and see why she had forbidden him to hunt on that side. When he got there, he found himself in a jungle, and nothing in the jungle but a quantity of parrots, who lived in it. The young Rájá shot at some of them, and at once they all flew away up to the sky. All, that is, but one, and this was their Rájá, who was called Híráman parrot.

When Híráman parrot found himself left alone, he called out to the other parrots, "Don't fly away and leave me alone when the Rájá's son shoots. If you desert me like this, I will tell the Princess Labám."

Then the parrots all flew back to their Rájá, chattering. The prince was greatly surprised, and said, "Why, these birds can talk!" Then he said to the parrots, "Who is the Princess Labám? Where does she live?" But the parrots would not tell him where she lived. "You can never get to the Princess Labám's country." That is all they would say.

The prince grew very sad when they would not tell him anything more; and he threw his gun away, and went home. When he got home, he would not speak or eat, but lay on his bed for four or five days, and seemed very ill.

At last he told his father and mother that he wanted to go and see the Princess Labám. "I must go," he said; "I must see what she is like. Tell me where her country is." "We do not know where it is," answered his father and mother. "Then I must go and look for it," said the prince. "No, no," they said, "you must not leave us. You are our only son. Stay with us. You will never find the Princess Labám." "I must try and find her," said the prince. "Perhaps God will show me the way. If I live and I find her, I will come back to you; but perhaps I shall die, and then I shall never see you again. Still I must go."

So they had to let him go, though they cried very much at parting with him. His father gave him fine clothes to wear, and a fine horse. And he took his gun, and his bow and arrows, and a great many other weapons, "for," he said, "I may want them." His father, too, gave him plenty of rupees.

Then he himself got his horse all ready for the journey, and he said good-bye to his father and mother; and his mother took her handkerchief and wrapped some sweetmeats in it, and gave it to her son. "My child," she said to him, "when you are hungry eat some of these sweetmeats."

He then set out on his journey, and rode on and on till he came to a jungle in which were a tank and shady trees. He bathed himself and his horse in the tank, and then sat down under a tree. "Now," he said to himself, "I will eat some of the sweetmeats my mother gave me, and I will drink some water, and then I will continue my journey." He opened his handkerchief, and took out a sweetmeat. He found an ant in it. He took out another. There was an ant in that one too. So he laid the two sweetmeats on the ground, and he took out another, and another, and another, until he had taken them all out; but in each he found an ant. "Never mind," he said, "I won't eat the sweetmeats; the ants shall eat them." Then the Ant-Rájá came and stood before him and said, "You have been good to us. If ever you are in trouble, think of me and we will come to you."

The Rájá's son thanked him, mounted his horse and continued his journey. He rode on and on till he came to another jungle, and there he saw a tiger who had a thorn in his foot, and was roaring loudly from the pain.

"Why do you roar like that?" said the young Rájá. "What is the matter with you?" "I have had a thorn in my foot for twelve years," answered the tiger, "and it hurts me so; that is why I roar." "Well," said the Rájá's son, "I will take it out for you. But, perhaps, as you are a tiger, when I have made you well, you will eat me?" "Oh, no," said the tiger, "I won't eat you. Do make me well."

Then the prince took a little knife from his pocket, and cut the thorn out of the tiger's foot; but when he cut, the tiger roared louder than ever, so loud that his wife heard him in the next jungle, and came bounding along to see what was the matter. The tiger saw her coming, and hid the prince in the jungle, so that she should not see him.

"What man hurt you that you roared so loud?" said the wife. "No one hurt me," answered her husband; "but a Rájá's son came and took the thorn out of my foot." "Where is he? Show him to me," said his wife. "If you promise not to kill him, I will call him," said the tiger. "I won't kill him; only let me see him," answered his wife.

Then the tiger called the Rájá's son, and when he came the tiger and his wife made him a great many salaams. Then they gave him a good dinner, and he stayed with them for three days. Every day he looked at the tiger's foot, and the third day it was quite healed. Then he said good-bye to the tigers, and the tiger said to him, "If ever you are in trouble, think of me, and we will come to you."

The Rájá's son rode on and on till he came to a third jungle. Here he found four fakírs whose teacher and master had died, and had left four things,--a bed, which carried whoever sat on it whithersoever he wished to go; a bag, that gave its owner whatever he wanted, jewels, food, or clothes; a stone bowl that gave its owner as much water as he wanted, no matter how far he might be from a tank; and a stick and rope, to which its owner had only to say, if any one came to make war on him, "Stick, beat as many men and soldiers as are here," and the stick would beat them and the rope would tie them up.

The four fakírs were quarrelling over these four things. One said, "I want this;" another said, "You cannot have it, for I want it;" and so on.

The Rájá's son said to them, "Do not quarrel for these things. I will shoot four arrows in four different directions. Whichever of you gets to my first arrow, shall have the first thing--the bed. Whosoever gets to the second arrow, shall have the second thing--the bag. He who gets to the third arrow, shall have the third thing--the bowl. And he who gets to the fourth arrow, shall have the last things--the stick and rope." To this they agreed, and the prince shot off his first arrow. Away raced the fakírs to get it. When they brought it back to him he shot off the second, and when they had found and brought it to him he shot off his third, and when they had brought him the third he shot off the fourth.

While they were away looking for the fourth arrow, the Rájá's son let his horse loose in the jungle, and sat on the bed, taking the bowl, the stick and rope, and the bag with him. Then he said, "Bed, I wish to go to the Princess Labám's country." The little bed instantly rose up into the air and began to fly, and it flew and flew till it came to the Princess Labám's country, where it settled on the ground. The Rájá's son asked some men he saw, "Whose country is this?" "The Princess Labám's country," they answered. Then the prince went on till he came to a house where he saw an old woman. "Who are you?" she said. "Where do you come from?" "I come from a far country," he said; "do let me stay with you to-night." "No," she answered, "I cannot let you stay with me; for our king has ordered that men from other countries may not stay in his country. You cannot stay in my house." "You are my aunty," said the prince; "let me remain with you for this one night. You see it is evening, and if I go into the jungle, then the wild beasts will eat me." "Well," said the old woman, "you may stay here to-night; but to-morrow morning you must go away, for if the king hears you have passed the night in my house, he will have me seized and put into prison."

Then she took him into her house, and the Rájá's son was very glad. The old woman began preparing dinner, but he stopped her. "Aunty," he said, "I will give you food." He put his hand into his bag, saying, "Bag, I want some dinner," and the bag gave him instantly a delicious dinner, served upon two gold plates. The old woman and the Rájá's son then dined together.

When they had finished eating, the old woman said, "Now I will fetch some water." "Don't go," said the prince. "You shall have plenty of water directly." So he took his bowl and said to it, "Bowl, I want some water," and then it filled with water. When it was full, the prince cried out, "Stop, bowl," and the bowl stopped filling. "See, aunty," he said, "with this bowl I can always get as much water as I want."

By this time night had come. "Aunty," said the Rájá's son, "why don't you light a lamp?" "There is no need," she said. "Our king has forbidden the people in his country to light any lamps; for, as soon as it is dark, his daughter, the Princess Labám, comes and sits on her roof, and she shines so, that she lights up all the country and our houses, and we can see to do our work as if it were day."

When it was quite black night, the princess got up. She dressed herself in her rich clothes and jewels, and rolled up her hair, and across her head she put a band of diamonds and pearls. Then she shone like the moon, and her beauty made night day. She came out of her room, and sat on the roof of her palace. In the daytime she never came out of her house; she only came out at night. All the people in her father's country then went about their work and finished it.

The Rájá's son watched the princess quietly, and was very happy. He said to himself, "How lovely she is!"

At midnight, when everybody had gone to bed, the princess came down from her roof, and went to her room; and when she was in bed and asleep, the Rájá's son got up softly, and sat on his bed. "Bed," he said to it, "I want to go to the Princess Labám's bed-room." So the little bed carried him to the room where she lay fast asleep.

The young Rájá took his bag and said, "I want a great deal of betel-leaf," and it at once gave him quantities of betel-leaf. This he laid near the princess's bed, and then his little bed carried him back to the old woman's house.

Next morning all the princess's servants found the betel-leaf, and began to eat it. "Where did you get all that betel-leaf?" asked the princess. "We found it near your bed," answered the servants. Nobody knew the prince had come in the night and put it all there.

In the morning the old woman came to the Rájá's son. "Now it is morning," she said, "and you must go; for if the king finds out all I have done for you, he will seize me." "I am ill to-day, dear aunty," said the prince; "do let me stay till to-morrow morning." "Good," said the old woman. So he stayed, and they took their dinner out of the bag, and the bowl gave them water.

When night came the princess got up and sat on her roof, and at twelve o'clock, when every one was in bed, she went to her bed-room, and was soon fast asleep. Then the Rájá's son sat on his bed, and it carried him to the princess. He took his bag and said, "Bag, I want a most lovely shawl." It gave him a splendid shawl, and he spread it over the princess as she lay asleep. Then he went back to the old woman's house and slept till morning.

In the morning, when the princess saw the shawl, she was delighted. "See, mother," she said; "God must have given me this shawl, it is so beautiful." Her mother was very glad too. "Yes, my child," she said; "God must have given you this splendid shawl."

When it was morning the old woman said to the Rájá's son, "Now you must really go." "Aunty," he answered, "I am not well enough yet. Let me stay a few days longer. I will remain hidden in your house, so that no one may see me." So the old woman let him stay.

When it was black night, the princess put on her lovely clothes and jewels, and sat on her roof. At midnight she went to her room and went to sleep. Then the Rájá's son sat on his bed and flew to her bed-room. There he said to his bag, "Bag, I want a very, very beautiful ring." The bag gave him a glorious ring. Then he took the Princess Labám's hand gently to put on the ring, and she started up very much frightened.

"Who are you?" she said to the prince. "Where do you come from? Why do you come to my room?" "Do not be afraid, princess," he said; "I am no thief. I am a great Rájá's son. Híráman parrot, who lives in the jungle where I went to hunt, told me your name, and then I left my father and mother, and came to see you."

"Well," said the princess, "as you are the son of such a great Rájá, I will not have you killed, and I will tell my father and mother that I wish to marry you."

The prince then returned to the old woman's house; and when morning came, the princess said to her mother, "The son of a great Rájá has come to this country, and I wish to marry him." Her mother told this to the king. "Good," said the king; "but if this Rájá's son wishes to marry my daughter, he must first do whatever I bid him. If he fails I will kill him. I will give him eighty pounds weight of mustard seed, and out of this he must crush the oil in one day. If he cannot do this he shall die."

In the morning the Rájá's son told the old woman that he intended to marry the princess. "Oh," said the old woman, "go away from this country, and do not think of marrying her. A great many Rájás and Rájás' sons have come here to marry her, and her father has had them all killed. He says whoever wishes to marry his daughter must first do whatever he bids him. If he can, then he shall marry the princess; if he cannot, the king will have him killed. But no one can do the things the king tells him to do; so all the Rájás and Rájás' sons who have tried have been put to death. You will be killed too, if you try. Do go away." But the prince would not listen to anything she said.

The king sent for the prince to the old woman's house, and his servants brought the Rájá's son to the king's court-house to the king. There the king gave him eighty pounds of mustard seed, and told him to crush all the oil out of it that day, and bring it next morning to him to the court-house. "Whoever wishes to marry my daughter," he said to the prince, "must first do all I tell him. If he cannot, then I have him killed. So if you cannot crush all the oil out of this mustard seed, you will die."