Part 2

Every little while she found one of Nala's rubies, and then they would be a long way apart, but at last she came to the city where Nala was, and found the last ruby by the gate of the Rajah's palace. Then she sat down not very far away and wondered how she could get inside the palace.

As night came on, the wife of a laboring man took pity on the poor old woman, as she supposed Dehra to be, and let her sleep in a hut in her garden. Now this garden was very near the palace grounds, in which was a marble bathing-tank covered with red lotus flowers.

When Dehra saw this beautiful place, she said to herself, "I will bathe there every morning. I will go very early, so as not to be seen."

So Dehra left her hut very early and bathed in the beautiful tank, and all the brown stain and all the wrinkles came off her face. She washed the old saree and hung it on a tree, and then put on her own blue silk saree and her necklace of pearls. Then she sat on the steps of the tank and twined some of the red lotus flowers in her hair.

"It makes me feel like myself again," she thought, as she looked down at her reflection in the water. But the royal lotus flowers made her think of Nala, and she longed more than ever to see her.

After Dehra had bathed in the palace gardens for several mornings, his servants told the Rajah that some of his beautiful lotus flowers disappeared each day before sunrise. This made the Rajah very angry and he said he would offer a reward for the capture of this thief.

Then the Rajah's second son, who was a very handsome young prince, said to his father, "You need not do that. I will capture the thief without any reward."

"He will do it easily," said the Ranee, who was very proud of her son.

So that night the Prince walked about the palace garden for a long time, but at last he was so sleepy that he lay down near the bathing-place and did not awake until the sun was just rising.

Leaning against the steps of the marble tank was a lovely girl dressed in blue silk with a chain of pearls around her neck and red lotus flowers in her hair.

The Prince jumped up quickly, exclaiming, "You cannot be the thief!"

"I did not mean to be a thief," faltered Dehra.

"They are my father's flowers and you can have more of them if you wish," said the Prince without taking his eyes off her lovely face.

"Oh, no!" said Dehra, running to get the old red cotton saree. "Please do not tell any one you have seen me."

"You must have come from Nala's country," replied the Prince, "for you talk as she does."

The old woman's dress dropped from Dehra's hands.

"Is Nala here, and do you talk to her?" she asked. It had been so long since she had heard her sister's name spoken that it seemed like listening to sweet music.

"Indeed, Nala is here," said the Prince. "She is my brother's wife and we all love her. She is so beautiful that she is called the 'Star of the Palace,' but you are prettier than she is."

At these words all Dehra's fear left her, and when the Prince said, "Let us go and find Nala," she let him take her hand and lead her into the palace, where every one said, "She is exactly like our young Rajah's wife!"

Then the Prince led Dehra into the presence of the Rajah and Ranee, and there she told them that she was Nala's sister and how she had come a long, weary way in search of her. Then the Prince asked permission to marry Dehra, and his father and mother were so pleased with the beautiful girl that they said he might do so as soon as he liked.

Then Dehra was taken to a beautiful room, hung with silk curtains and lighted by jewelled lamps. Nala was dressed in the richest silks and jewels, as the wife of a young Rajah should be, but there was a look of sadness on her beautiful face, for she was thinking of the sister from whom she had been separated so long.

"Oh, Dehra!" she said, as she looked up and saw her sister standing before her. "Oh, Dehra! Fate has been kind at last." And then the sisters kissed each other again and again, and when Nala heard that Dehra was to marry her husband's brother and all live together in the palace, she could hardly believe that it was true.

Then Dehra said, "The jackal told me that everything would come out right in the end, and so it has."

"He is a nice jackal," replied Nala. "The golden letters over the gateway to the Rakshas' palace ought to be changed to:

_'Seek long, seek far, and you shall find To patient seekers Fate is kind'_

and if he were here I would ask him to have it done."

THE FOUR BROTHERS

EAST INDIAN FAIRY TALES

The Four Brothers

_Relating how a baby with a diamond in his forehead grew to be a man, and what he did for his brothers._

IN the very heart of the jungle there stood a very old tree. It was older than any other tree there and had seen many wonderful things. It was very wise, too, and knew many secrets.

Every spring it put out fresh green leaves and lovely white blossoms, but one year the flowers were more beautiful than ever, and among them, on one of the lower branches, was a bud which hung there like a silver globe among the green leaves.

"I wonder why that bud is so much larger than the others," said the rose-apple tree, who had a great deal of curiosity.

"It holds a secret," replied the fig-tree, who was quite a gossip and loved to talk to the other trees.

"But when shall we know the secret?" asked the rose-apple tree.

"In the middle of the night there will be a thunder-storm and then the bud will open. You will see it by the lightning."

But when the storm came and the thunder roared and the lightning flashed, the rose-apple tree was afraid and dared not look up. But the fig-tree watched the grand old tree stretch its branches out bravely to the tempest, and in the midst of it saw the white bud burst open as the third bough laid it gently on the ground.

Inside the flower lay the prettiest little baby ever seen, curled up as if asleep, as lovely as a flower himself, and then his eyes opened and he lay smiling at the sky and watching the blue-white lightning flashing across it.

Then when morning came and all around was bright and calm and still once more, the baby put out his tiny hand and played with the flowers.

"He must be a wonderful baby," said the fig-tree. "See his little white silk shirt; it is just the color of the flower in which he was born, and look, he has a diamond shining in his forehead!"

"Perhaps it is a star and not a diamond," said the rose-apple tree; but because of its brightness it could not tell which it was.

Then the humming-birds and the parrots and the monkeys and the jackals all came to look at the baby. "He would be better off if he had wings like mine," said a humming-bird.

"Or if he had plumage like mine," said a parrot.

"Fur like mine would be much better for him," added a jackal; but they all agreed that he was a very wonderful baby, or he would not have a star in his forehead.

By and by the child cried just a little bit, for he was hungry, but the fig-tree bent a bough and dropped honey into his mouth, and then he smiled again.

And then when sunset came a tigress stole quietly up to the child.

"I'll bring my cubs here," she said to herself. "He will do for their supper." But the flowers and the grasses covered him up so that she could not find him when she came back again.

"We will not let any harm come to him," said the flowers and the grasses. "He is our baby."

"What shall we call him?" asked the trees, and the old tree which had borne the beautiful bud said, "His name is Nazim, and you must all of you take care of him and teach him the secrets of the jungle."

And so as Nazim grew up, the trees and the wild flowers and all the creatures in the jungle taught him all they knew. The monkeys taught him how to climb trees, and Dame, the great turtle who lived in the river, taught him how to swim.

The humming-birds showed him where the wild fruits grew and which of the blossoms had honey in their cups; and he learned to know the herbs which would heal bruises, and how to charm the jungle snakes, and many other things which children who live in houses never know.

Early every morning he bathed in the river, hanging his white silk shirt to dry on a tree, and at night he slept in a hammock under the fig-tree, which the flowers made for him of their twining tendrils.

He became a tall and beautiful boy, as good and gentle as he was strong and fearless, and as for clothes, his white silk shirt grew as he grew and never wore out or wanted mending. All the animals in the jungle loved him, even the tigress who had wanted her cubs to eat him when he was a baby.

One day Nazim said to the old tree, "There are a great many parrots and jackals and monkeys. Are there no others like me; is there only one Nazim?"

And the old tree asked, "Why do you want to know?" And Nazim replied wistfully, "I should like to see them."

Then the old tree said, "Climb to my topmost branch, and tell me what you see;" and when Nazim had done this he cried out, "I see a hill with a very sharp point."

"Near the top of that hill, which is the needle-shaped hill, is a tree covered with bright pink blossoms. It is called Kidsadita," said the old tree. "Go up to it and smell the flowers and ask where the Four Brothers are."

So through the jungle Nazim ran to the needle-shaped hill, and there was Kidsadita, the pink-flowering tree. "Where are the Four Brothers?" he asked, as he smelt the blossoms.

"On the other side of the hill," said Kidsadita. "They are preparing their supper."

Then Nazim went on, around the hill, and there were four tall men cutting up a deer which they had killed. As he came near they thought they had never seen so beautiful a boy, and ran to meet him. He was indeed a beautiful boy, dressed all in white, the star shining in his forehead and a look of gentle love on his face.

"We are four brothers; will you be the fifth?" they asked Nazim. "Will you be one of us?"

"I will be your brother," replied Nazim, "for that is why I came. All the creatures in the jungle had brothers and sisters, and I had none. I wanted to find some brethren."

Then Chimo, the youngest brother, said there were two things they wanted. One of these was fire to cook their meat, for they were obliged to eat the flesh of the deer raw; and the other was a wife for each of them.

Then one of the other brothers said that the giant Rikal Gouree had a fire burning on his hearth and four daughters who were anxious to get married. They knew that he lived not very far away, but they had never been able to find his house, so they were still without wives and firebrands to light the wood with which to cook the deer they killed.

"If you will give me a bulrush," said Nazim, "I will show you the way to his house." So Chimo brought him a bulrush and Nazim fitted it to his bowstring; then he bent the bow, letting the bulrush fly straight to Rikal Gouree's palace. "Follow my arrow," cried Nazim. "It has cleared a path for you, and you shall find what you want."

Then the Four Brothers followed the path Nazim's arrow had made, but Chimo, who was the swiftest runner, came to the giant's palace first.

Rikal Gouree was sleeping by the fire in an immense room where the couches were twenty feet long and eight feet high. The fireplace was like a huge, red, glowing cavern in which whole tree-trunks lay burning instead of logs, and the ceiling was so high that Chimo could hardly see it.

Chimo stole a look at the sleeping giant and then snatched up a firebrand and ran for the door. But as he passed the sleeping giant a spark from the brand lighted on Rikal Gouree's hand.

The giant sprang up with a cry of pain and rushed out of the house after Chimo, but could not catch him. In his flight Chimo dropped the fire-brand and got back to his brothers with nothing to show for his trouble but a bad fright.

"We want to leave Rikal Gouree alone," he told them. "I would rather eat raw flesh all my life than go near that monster again."

Finding he could not catch Chimo, the giant went back to his house and into the room where his wife and four daughters were. He was very cross, for he had lost his nap and the burn on his hand pained him.

As soon as he had thrown himself into his great chair his oldest daughter asked him, "Have you got husbands for us yet?" Every day one of his daughters asked him this question and the sulky old giant would reply, "No! who can get husbands for four daughters all at once?"

Then the youngest daughter asked her father who the young man was that she had seen running away from the house. He told her that while he was asleep a young man had come in and stolen a firebrand.

"I think you did very wrong to send him away," said the giant's wife. "He would have been one husband at any rate, and giants' daughters do not get husbands easily. Here is the arrow which came into the room this morning, which was a sign that men would soon follow it. You have done a very foolish thing and we shall probably suffer for it."

Some giants' wives are afraid of their husbands, but this one was not, and she went on to give her husband such a scolding that Rikal Gouree was glad to get away and go to sleep by the fire again.

After a while the giant was awakened by beautiful music which came from a tree which grew close to his palace wall. He lay still enjoying the sweet sounds, but presently they seemed to call him outside, and looking up he saw Nazim sitting on one of the branches of the tree playing on a lute.

Underneath the tree the dogs and cats and all the other animals belonging to him were listening to the music, and the boughs were covered with birds who were listening too. Presently the music grew so merry that Rikal Gouree held up his skirts and began to dance.

"What a silly old man you are!" cried his wife as she came out of the house and saw what he was doing. "You silly old man!" But in a few minutes she was dancing too, holding up her saree with one hand like a young girl, while her bangles and anklets tinkled merrily.

Then the giant called to Nazim, "Here, young man, come down from the tree and I will give you anything you want."

"Then you must give me your four daughters," said Nazim. "Each of my four brothers wants a wife, and you must give us, besides, a firebrand from your hearth."

"I knew the arrow was a true omen," cried the giant's wife, and then his daughters came forward and gave Nazim his arrow, which they had kept very carefully. They were so pleased that they said good-bye to their father and mother, and taking as many clothes and jewels as they could carry on their heads, they set out with Nazim.

On they went until they came to the needle-shaped hill where the pink-flowering tree Kidsadita was, and there they married the Four Brothers and lived very happily together.

Nazim did not want to marry, and because he was better and wiser than they, the Four Brothers made him their king. The giant's daughters made their jewels into a crown for him, but no jewel was as bright as the star in his forehead, which outshone them all.

THE FISH PRINCE

EAST INDIAN FAIRY TALES

The Fish Prince

_A Prince is changed into a fish by his cruel mother. The enchantment is broken by the aid of a seven-headed cobra, and all ends well._

ONCE there were a king and queen who had two sons. The older of the two was a very short and ugly man with only one eye, and that was in the middle of his forehead. His brother was tall and handsome and carried himself like a prince.

Naturally the king preferred his handsome son and wished to make him his heir. "My people will never obey a dwarf with only one eye," he said.

This made Deesa, the older son, very angry. "The kingdom ought to be mine," he said, "or if I cannot have it all it should be divided."

He said this to his wife, whose name was Matni, and as she was an enchantress she determined to get the whole of the kingdom for her husband if possible. She thought it all over and then invited the younger brother to a banquet in that part of the palace where she lived.

Then she said to her husband, "After supper you must sit with your brother on the balcony overlooking the river. I will change him into a fish and then you can throw him into the water. In this way we shall hear no more of him."

Deesa agreed to this, and after supper invited his brother to sit with him on the balcony. Then Matni went up on the roof of the palace and threw down some powder on the younger Prince's head. Just as soon as she did this, the Prince was changed into a little fish, and his brother picked him up and threw him into the river.

All this was done so suddenly that the Prince hardly knew what had happened to him. Over and over he turned before he struck the water, but when it had closed over him he found that he had been changed into a fish and could swim very nicely underneath the water.

He seemed to know, too, that Matni had enchanted him, and he wanted to get out of her way; so he swam on and on until at the end of two days he was outside of his father's kingdom.

Then one day he was caught in a net by some fishermen and taken to the palace of the king of that country to be served up for dinner. He was not very big, and one of the servants thought it would be much nicer to have him in a bowl than to cook him.

So the servant begged for the little fish. "I will take it to the Queen's room," she said. "She has no children and is sometimes very dull. This little fish may amuse her."

The Queen was very much pleased with the pretty little fish and became very fond of him. When he grew to be too large for the bowl, she had another one prepared for him, and fed him boiled rice twice every day. "He is such a dear," she said, "that he shall be called Athon-Rajah, the Fish Prince."

After awhile the Fish Prince grew so big that the Queen had a tank made for him through which the clear water of the river flowed in and out.

Then one day the Queen feared that the Fish Prince was not comfortable in his tank and would prefer to be in the beautiful shining river which flowed past her windows. So she said to him one day, "Are you quite happy here, Athon-Rajah?"

After a moment's thought the Fish Prince replied, "I am quite happy here, dear Queen-mother, but if you could get me a nice little wife I should be happier. It is really quite lonely here all by myself."

Now the Queen looked upon the Fish Prince as her own son, and never imagined that any girl would have the least objection to marrying him. So she said, "If you want a wife I can easily find one for you."

"But would you not like to go and swim in the river?" she went on.

"Certainly not," replied the Fish Prince. "All I want is to have a nice little wife and live right here." The answer astonished the Queen, but then she did not know that he was a fish only in appearance.

"All right," she said. "I will find you a wife at once, and have a room built in the tank for her." She had the room built at once, but it was not an easy matter to find a wife for the Fish Prince!

Everybody knew that Athon-Rajah was a pet of the Queen's, but for all that, they said he was a monster of a fish, and that all he wanted of a wife was to devour her. But the Queen sent messengers far and wide, among the rich and the poor alike, but found no one who was willing to give his daughter as a wife to the Fish Prince.

Even the people who had eight or ten daughters were very polite about it, but said, "We cannot give one of our children to your Fish Prince." Then the Queen offered a great bag of gold to any father who would send his daughter to be the Fish Prince's wife, but nothing came of it for a long time.

At last a fakir or beggar-man heard of the bag of gold and said to the messenger, "You may have my eldest daughter. She cannot be worse off than where she is now, and the gold will make me rich."

"Tell me where she is?" asked the Queen's messenger.

"She is down by the river, washing," said the man. "She is my first wife's child, and her stepmother makes her do all the hard work, and will not give her enough to eat."

"She gets more than she deserves," cried the stepmother angrily. "Much more than she deserves. You can take her and welcome. We shall be well rid of her, and if the Fish Prince wants to eat her, he can do so."

So the messenger gave the bag of gold to the fakir, and went down to the river, where he found a very pretty girl washing clothes on the edge of the water. She cried very much when she heard what his errand was, and begged him to let her say good-bye to an old friend before he took her away.

"Tell me who is this friend," said the messenger. "The Queen said we were to lose no time." And the girl replied, "It is a seven-headed cobra whom I have known ever since I was a little child."

Still crying, the girl, whose name was Maya, ran along the bank, and the cobra put his seven heads out of the hole where he lived.

"I know all about it," he said. "Don't cry. Pick up those three pebbles outside my hole and put them in your dress. When you see the Athon-Rajah coming, throw the first at him. If it hits him he will sink to the bottom of the tank."

Then the cobra went on. "When he rises to the surface, hit him with the second, and the same thing will happen. Throw the third pebble at him, and he will change from a fish into a handsome young prince."

"Then he isn't really a fish?" asked Maya.

"He is the son of a Rajah and is under an enchantment," replied the cobra. "But you can break the enchantment in the way I have told you."

So Maya dried her tears and went away with the messenger to the palace, where they showed her a beautiful little room that had been prepared for her inside the tank where the Fish Prince lived. Then the Queen kissed her and said, "You are just the dear little wife I want for my Athon-Rajah."

Maya would have been quite happy, for every one was very kind to her, if it had not been for the thought of the cold dark water, and her fear that she might not be able to hit the Fish Prince with the pebbles. But she let them put her into the little room, where she sat down and waited for a long time, with the pebbles in her hand.

Then there was a sound of rushing water and of waves dashing against the door. She looked out and there was a huge fish swimming towards her with his mouth wide open!

"I want to see my wife!" cried the Fish Prince. "Unfasten the door!"

Trembling from head to foot with fright, Maya opened the door and threw the first pebble, which went right down his throat. He sunk like a stone, but in a minute or two came up to the surface again.

Then Maya threw the second pebble, which hit the Fish Prince on the head, and he sunk the second time.

Maya was so nervous that she nearly missed hitting him with the third pebble, for it only touched the tip of his fin. This time he did not sink, but changed into a handsome prince, who took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly.

"You have broken my enchantment!" he cried. "Now we can enjoy sunshine and happiness in the world above, and need not live in a tank any longer."

So they were drawn up out of the water and taken to the palace, where no one could possibly live happier than Maya and the Fish Prince.

THE TALKING TURTLE

EAST INDIAN FAIRY TALES

The Talking Turtle

_Relates the unique and satisfactory end of a turtle who made mischief among the cranes, fishes, parrots and monkeys. The moral is obvious._

A GREAT many years ago there was a king who talked too much. His name was Badahur, and from his beautiful palace he ruled many millions of people.

There was also a turtle who was even fonder of talking than the King, and he lived in a pond in the King's garden.