Part 36

After the wedding Martin and his royal bride went to dwell in the magnificent new palace, and here Martin lived in the greatest comfort and luxury, such luxury as he had never imagined. But though he was as happy as the day was long and as merry as a grig, the King's daughter fretted all day, thinking of the indignity that had been done her in making her marry Martin, the poor widow's son, instead of a rich young prince from a foreign country. So unhappy was she that she spent all her time wondering how she should get rid of her undesirable husband. And first she determined to learn the secret of his power, and with flattering, caressing words she tried to coax him to tell her how he was so clever that there was nothing in the world that he could not do. At first he would tell her nothing; but once, when he was in a yielding mood, she approached him with a winning smile on her lovely face, and speaking flattering words to him she gave him a potion to drink, with a sweet, strong taste. And when he had drunk it Martin's lips were unsealed, and he told her that all his power lay in the magic ring that he wore on his finger, and he described to her how to use it, and still speaking he fell into a deep sleep. And when she saw that the potion had worked and that he was sound asleep, the Princess took the magic ring from his finger, and going into the courtyard she threw it from the palm of one hand into the other. On the instant the twelve youths appeared and asked her what she commanded them to do. Then she told them that by the next morning they were to do away with the castle and the bridge and the church, and put in their stead the humble hut in which Martin used to live with his mother, and that while he slept her husband was to be carried to his old lowly room; and that they were to bear her away to the utmost ends of the earth, where an old king lived who would make her welcome in his palace and surround her with the state that befitted a royal princess.

"You shall be obeyed," answered the twelve youths at the same moment. And lo and behold! the following morning when the King woke and looked out of his window he beheld to his amazement that the palace, bridge, church, and trees had all vanished, and there was nothing in their place but a bare, miserable-looking hut.

Immediately the King sent for his son-in-law and commanded him to explain what had happened. But Martin looked at his royal father-in-law and answered never a word. Then the King was very angry, and calling a council together, he charged Martin with having been guilty of witchcraft, and of having deceived the King, and having made away with the Princess; and he was condemned to imprisonment in a high stone tower, with neither meat nor drink, till he should die of starvation.

Then, in the hour of his dire necessity, his old friends Schurka (the dog) and Waska (the cat) remembered how Martin had once saved them from a cruel death; and they took counsel together as to how they should help him. And Schurka growled and was of opinion that he would like to tear everyone in pieces; but Waska purred meditatively, scratched the back of her ear with a velvet paw, and remained lost in thought. At the end of a few minutes she had made up her mind, and turning to Schurka, said: "Let us go together into the town, and the moment we meet a baker you must make a rush between his legs and upset the tray from off his head. I will lay hold of the rolls and will carry them off to our master." No sooner said than done. Together the two faithful creatures trotted off into the town, and very soon they met a baker bearing a tray on his head and looking around on all sides while he cried:

"Fresh rolls, sweet cake, Fancy bread of every kind, Come and buy, come and take, Sure you'll find it to your mind."

At that moment Schurka made a rush between his legs--the baker stumbled, the tray was upset, the rolls fell to the ground, and while the man angrily pursued Schurka, Waska managed to drag the rolls out of sight behind a bush. And when a moment later Schurka joined her, they set off at full tilt to the stone tower where Martin was a prisoner, taking the rolls with them. Waska, being very agile, climbed up by the outside to the grated window and called in an anxious voice:

"Are you alive, master?"

"Scarcely alive--almost starved to death," answered Martin in a weak voice. "I little thought it would come to this, that I should die of hunger."

"Never fear, dear master. Schurka and I will look after you," said Waska. And in another moment she had climbed down and brought him back a roll, and then another and another till she had brought him the whole tray load. Upon which she said: "Dear master, Schurka and I are going off to a distant kingdom at the utmost ends of the earth to fetch you back your magic ring. You must be careful that the rolls last till our return."

And Waska took leave of her beloved master and set off with Schurka on their journey. On and on they traveled, looking always to right and left for traces of the Princess, following up every track, making inquiries of every cat and dog they met, listening to the talk of every wayfarer they passed; and at last they heard that the kingdom at the utmost ends of the earth, where the twelve youths had borne the Princess, was not very far off. And one day they reached that distant kingdom, and going at once to the palace they began to make friends with all the dogs and cats in the place and to question them about the Princess and the magic ring; but no one could tell them much about either. Now, one day it chanced that Waska had gone down to the palace cellar to hunt for mice and rats, and seeing an especially fat, well-fed mouse, she pounced upon it, buried her claws in its soft fur, and was just going to gobble it up when she was stopped by the pleading tones of the little creature, saying: "If you will only spare my life I will be of great service to you. I will do everything in my power for you; for I am the king of the mice, and if I perish the whole race will die out."

"So be it," said Waska. "I will spare your life, but in return you must do something for me. In this castle there lives a princess, the wicked wife of my dear master. She has stolen away his magic ring. You must get it away from her at whatever cost. Do you hear? Till you have done this I won't take my claws out of your fur."

"Good!" replied the mouse. "I will do what you ask." And so saying he summoned all the mice in his kingdom together. A countless number of mice, small and big, brown and gray, assembled and formed a circle around their king, who was a prisoner under Waska's claws. Turning to them he said: "Dear and faithful subjects, whoever among you will steal the magic ring from the strange Princess will release me from a cruel death, and I shall honor him above all the other mice in the kingdom."

Instantly a tiny mouse stepped forward and said: "I often creep about the Princess's bedroom at night, and I have noticed that she has a ring which she treasures as the apple of her eye. All day she wears it on her finger, and at night she keeps it in her mouth. I will undertake, sire, to steal away the ring for you."

And the tiny mouse tripped away into the bedroom of the Princess and waited for nightfall; then, when the Princess had fallen asleep, it crept up on to her bed and gnawed a hole in the pillow, through which it dragged, one by one, little down feathers and threw them under the Princess's nose. And the fluff flew into the Princess's nose and into her mouth, and starting up she sneezed and coughed, and the ring fell out of her mouth on to the coverlet. In a flash the tiny mouse had seized it and brought it to Waska as a ransom for the king of the mice. Thereupon Waska and Schurka started off and traveled night and day till they reached the stone tower where Martin was imprisoned; and the cat climbed up the window and called out to him:

"Martin, dear master, are you still alive?"

"Ah! Waska, my faithful little cat, is that you?" replied a weak voice. "I am dying of hunger. For three days I have not tasted food."

"Be of good heart, dear master," replied Waska. "From this day forth, you will know nothing but happiness and prosperity. If this were a moment to trouble you with riddles, I would make you guess what Schurka and I have brought you back. Only think, we have found you your ring!"

At these words Martin's joy knew no bounds, and he stroked her fondly and she rubbed up against him and purred happily, while below Schurka bounded in the air and barked joyfully. Then Martin took the ring and threw it from one hand into the other, and instantly the twelve youths appeared and asked what they were to do.

"Fetch me first something to eat and drink as quickly as possible; and after that bring musicians hither and let us have music all day long."

Now, when the people in the town and palace heard music coming from the tower they were filled with amazement, and came to the King with the news that witchcraft must be going on in Martin's tower, for instead of dying of starvation he was seemingly making merry to the sound of music and to the clatter of plates and glass and knives and forks; and the music was so enchantingly sweet that all the passers-by stood still to listen to it. On this the King sent at once a messenger to Starvation Tower, and he was so astonished with what he saw that he remained rooted to the spot. Then the King sent his chief counselors, and they too were transfixed with wonder. At last the King came himself, and he likewise was spellbound by the beauty of the music.

Then Martin summoned the twelve youths and said to them: "Build up my castle again and join it to the King's palace with a crystal bridge. Do not forget the trees with the golden and silver apples and with the birds of paradise in the branches, and put back the church with the five cupolas, and let the bells ring out, summoning the people from the four corners of the kingdom. And one thing more--bring back my faithless wife and lead her into the women's chamber."

And it was all done as he commanded, and leaving Starvation Tower he took the King, his father-in-law, by the arm and led him into the new palace, where the Princess sat in fear and trembling awaiting her death. And Martin spoke to the King, saying: "King and royal father, I have suffered much at the hands of your daughter. What punishment shall be dealt to her?"

Then the mild King answered: "Beloved Prince and son-in-law, if you love me, let your anger be turned to grace--forgive my daughter and restore her to your heart and favor."

And Martin's heart was softened and he forgave his wife, and they lived happily together ever after. And his old mother came and lived with them, and he never parted with Schurka and Waska; and I need hardly tell you that he never again let the ring out of his possession.

_Tit for Tat_

THERE once lived a camel and a jackal who were great friends. One day the Jackal said to the Camel: "I know that there is a fine field of sugar cane on the other side of the river. If you will take me across, I'll show you the place. This plan will suit me as well as you. You will enjoy eating the sugar cane, and I am sure to find many crabs, bones, and bits of fish by the riverside, on which to make a good dinner."

The Camel consented and swam across the river, taking the Jackal, who could not swim, on his back. When they reached the other side, the Camel went to eating the sugar cane, and the Jackal ran up and down the river bank devouring all the crabs, bits of fish, and bones he could find.

But being so much smaller an animal, he had made an excellent meal before the Camel had eaten more than two or three mouthfuls; and no sooner had he finished his dinner than he ran round and round the sugar-cane field, yelping and howling with all his might.

The villagers heard him, and thought: "There is a jackal among the sugar canes; he will be scratching holes in the ground and spoiling the roots of the plants." And they all went down to the place to drive him away. But when they got there they found to their surprise not only a jackal, but a camel who was eating the sugar canes! This made them very angry, and they caught the poor Camel and drove him from the field and beat and beat him until he was nearly dead.

When they had gone, the Jackal said to the Camel, "We had better go home." And the Camel said: "Very well; then jump upon my back as you did before."

So the Jackal jumped upon the Camel's back, and the Camel began to recross the river. When they had got well into the water the Camel said: "This is a pretty way in which you have treated me, friend Jackal. No sooner had you finished your own dinner than you must go yelping about the place loud enough to arouse the whole village, and bring all the villagers down to beat me black and blue, and turn me out of the field before I had eaten two mouthfuls! What in the world did you make such a noise for?"

"I don't know," said the Jackal. "It is a habit I have. I always like to sing a little after dinner."

The Camel waded on through the river. The water reached up to his knees--then above them--up, up, up, higher and higher, until he was obliged to swim. Then turning to the Jackal he said, "I feel very anxious to roll." "Oh, pray don't; why do you wish to do so?" asked the Jackal. "I don't know," answered the Camel. "It is a habit I have. I always like to have a little roll after dinner." So saying, he rolled over in the water, shaking the Jackal off as he did so. And the Jackal was drowned, but the Camel swam safely ashore.

_The Brahman, the Tiger, and the Six Judges_

ONCE upon a time a Brahman, who was walking along the road, came upon an iron cage, in which a great tiger had been shut up by the villagers who caught him.

As the Brahman passed by, the Tiger called out and said to him: "Brother Brahman, brother Brahman, have pity on me, and let me out of this cage for one minute only to drink a little water, for I am dying of thirst." The Brahman answered: "No, I will not; for if I let you out of the cage you will eat me."

"Oh, father of mercy," answered the Tiger, "in truth that I will not. I will never be so ungrateful; only let me out, that I may drink some water and return." Then the Brahman took pity on him and opened the cage door; but no sooner had he done so than the Tiger, jumping out, said: "Now, I will eat you first and drink the water afterwards." But the Brahman said: "Only do not kill me hastily. Let us first ask the opinion of six, and if all of them say it is just and fair that you should put me to death, then I am willing to die."

"Very well," answered the Tiger, "it shall be as you say; we will first ask the opinion of six."

So the Brahman and the Tiger walked on till they came to a Banyan tree; and the Brahman said to it: "Banyan Tree, Banyan Tree, hear and give judgment." "On what must I give judgment?" asked the Banyan Tree. "This Tiger," said the Brahman, "begged me to let him out of his cage to drink a little water, and he promised not to hurt me if I did so; but now, that I have let him out, he wishes to eat me. Is it just that he should do so or no?"

The Banyan Tree answered: "Men often come to take shelter in the cool shade under my boughs from the scorching rays of the sun; but when they have rested, they cut and break my pretty branches and wantonly scatter my leaves. Let the Tiger eat the man, for men are an ungrateful race."

At these words the Tiger would have instantly killed the Brahman, but the Brahman said: "Tiger, Tiger, you must not kill me yet, for you promised that we should first hear the judgment of six." "Very well," said the Tiger, and they went on their way. After a little while they met a camel. "Sir Camel, Sir Camel," cried the Brahman, "hear and give judgment." "On what shall I give judgment?" asked the Camel. And the Brahman related how the Tiger had begged him to open the cage door, and promised not to eat him if he did so; and how he had afterwards determined to break his word, and asked if that were just or not. The Camel replied: "When I was young and strong, and could do much work, my master took care of me and gave me good food; but now that I am old, and have lost all my strength in his service, he overloads me and starves me and beats me without mercy. Let the Tiger eat the man, for men are an unjust and cruel race."

The Tiger would then have killed the Brahman, but the latter said: "Stop, Tiger, for we must first hear the judgment of six."

So they both went again on their way. At a little distance they found a bullock lying by the roadside. The Brahman said to him: "Brother Bullock, brother Bullock, hear and give judgment." "On what must I give judgment?" asked the Bullock. The Brahman answered: "I found this Tiger in a cage, and he prayed me to open the door and let him out to drink a little water, and promised not to kill me if I did so; but when I had let him out he resolved to put me to death. Is it fair that he should do so or not?" The Bullock said: "When I was able to work my master fed me well and tended me carefully, but now I am old he has forgotten all I did for him, and left me by the roadside to die. Let the Tiger eat the man, for men have no pity."

Three out of the six had given judgment against the Brahman, but still he did not lose all hope and determined to ask the other three.

They next met an eagle flying through the air, to whom the Brahman cried, "O Eagle, great Eagle, hear and give judgment." "On what must I give judgment?" asked the Eagle. The Brahman stated the case, and the Eagle answered: "Whenever men see me they try to shoot me; they climb the rocks and steal away my little ones. Let the Tiger eat the man, for men are the persecutors of the earth."

Then the Tiger began to roar and said: "The judgment of all is against you, O Brahman!" But the Brahman answered: "Stay yet a little longer, for two others must first be asked." After this they saw an alligator, and the Brahman related the matter to him, hoping for a more favorable verdict. But the Alligator said: "Whenever I put my nose out of the water men torment me and try to kill me. Let the Tiger eat the man, for as long as men live we shall have no rest."

The Brahman gave himself up as lost; but again he prayed the Tiger to have patience and let him ask the opinion of the sixth judge. Now the sixth was a jackal. The Brahman told his story, and said to him: "Uncle Jackal, Uncle Jackal, say what is your judgment?" The Jackal answered: "It is impossible for me to decide who is in the right and who in the wrong unless I see the exact position in which you were when the dispute began. Show me the place." So the Brahman and the Tiger returned to the place where they first met, and the Jackal went with them. When they got there, the Jackal said: "Now Brahman, show me exactly where you stood." "Here," said the Brahman, standing by the iron tiger cage. "Exactly there, was it?" asked the Jackal. "Exactly here," replied the Brahman. "Where was the Tiger, then?" asked the Jackal. "In the cage," answered the Tiger. "How do you mean?" said the Jackal; "how were you within the cage? which way were you looking?" "Why, I stood so," said the Tiger, jumping into the cage, "and my head was on this side." "Very good," said the Jackal, "but I cannot judge without understanding the whole matter exactly. Was the cage door open or shut?" "Shut and bolted," said the Brahman. "Then shut and bolt it," said the Jackal.

When the Brahman had done this, the Jackal said: "Oh, you wicked and ungrateful Tiger! when the good Brahman opened your cage door, is to eat him the only return you would make? Stay there, then, for the rest of your days, for no one will ever let you out again. Proceed on your journey, friend Brahman. Your road lies that way and mine this."

So saying, the Jackal ran off in one direction, and the Brahman went rejoicing on his way in the other.

_Muchie Lal_

ONCE upon a time there were a rajah and ranee who had no children. Long had they wished and prayed that the gods would send them a son, but it was all in vain--their prayers were not granted. One day a number of fish were brought into the royal kitchen to be cooked for the Rajah's dinner, and among them was one little fish that was not dead, though all the rest were dead. One of the palace maid servants seeing this, took the little fish and put him in a basin of water. Shortly afterwards the Ranee saw him, and, thinking him very pretty, kept him as a pet; and because she had no children she lavished all her affection on the fish and loved him as a son; and the people called him Muchie Rajah (the Fish Prince). In a little while Muchie Rajah had grown too long to live in the small basin, so they put him in a larger one, and then when he grew too long for that, into a big tub. In time, however, Muchie Rajah became too large for even the big tub to hold him, so the Ranee had a tank made for him in which he lived very happily; and twice a day she fed him with boiled rice. Now, though the people fancied Muchie Rajah was only a fish, this was not the case. He was, in truth, a young rajah who had angered the gods, and been turned by them into a fish and thrown into the river as a punishment.

One morning, when the Ranee brought him his daily meal of boiled rice, Muchie Rajah called out to her and said: "Queen Mother, Queen Mother, I am so lonely here all by myself! Cannot you get me a wife?" The Ranee promised to try, and sent messengers to all the people she knew to ask if they would allow one of their children to marry her son, the Fish Prince. But they all answered: "We cannot give one of our dear little daughters to be devoured by a great fish, even though he is the Muchie Rajah and so high in your majesty's favor."