Tibetan Folk Tales, A. L. Shelton [early reader books txt] 📗

id="calibre_pb_23">NINETEEN

How the King Lost His Great Jewel

During the dark of the moon the robber can steal the yak’s calf.

Tibetan Proverb.

ONCE upon a time there was a king who had a great diamond which he admired very much; he liked to let the sun shine on it and see it sparkle. But he had some servants who were very dishonest and who decided to rob him of the jewel. So that there would be no suspicion attached to them, the servants decided that they would make the jewel disappear while the king was looking at it. It was the king’s custom to have it taken out in the light so that he might see all the colors of the rainbow in it. This day he took the jewel out and placed it quite a distance away, and as he looked at it, it shone and shone, but the sparks seemed to get less and less and it finally disappeared before his eyes. He and his servants went to look for it but they could find nothing, because they had used a piece of ice to deceive him. The king lost his great jewel; it had vanished before his eyes, and the blame could be placed upon no one.

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TWENTY

The Story of the Three Hunters

Be the work good or had, we cannot tell what may be said of it, nor how far its result may spread.

Tibetan Proverb.

ONCE upon a time, when the world was young and men loved and hated as they do now, in a mountain village there lived three brothers and they were hunters. Each of the brothers had married a wife, and they had one sister who lived with them all. One day they went out to hunt and brought in a deer. When they had all the meat they wanted to eat they gave a leg bone to the sister, who cracked it, took out the marrow and toasted it, so that it looked very good. As she sat eating this delicacy, the wives of the two elder brothers became very angry, just why it would be difficult to say. They were so angry that they decided they would plan some way to kill the sister. They said, “The brothers think so much of her that they won’t consider us at all, so we must get her out of the way.”

Again the brothers all went out for a hunt, and the women decided now was the time. The wife of the younger brother would have nothing to do with it and told them it was the wrong thing to do, because the sister had had only her share of the meat. But the wives of the two older brothers decided to kill her anyway. When the brothers were coming home they stopped on the way to rest and a little bird in a tree kept singing and singing the same tune over and over. Finally one of them said, “That bird seems to want to say something to us, I’m going to see if it does, for it sounds like my sister.” He went up to the tree where the little bird sat and said, “If you are my sister, hop up on my hand.” The little bird hopped on his hand and they all began to cry, because they knew their sister was dead. They went on home and found the three wives, but the sister was gone. They said nothing about her being away, but later they found the younger wife crying and she wouldn’t tell why. They told her they knew why, as they had seen the sister, and her soul had gone into a bird. So the young wife told them the story, and they were so angry that they killed the two big wives and had the third in partnership.

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TWENTY-ONE The Hunter and the Unicorn

An old Lama without religion and a heart without happiness hurt very much.

Tibetan Proverb.

ONCE, long ago when men’s hearts were evil and they forgot to be grateful for kindness, a hunter was walking along the road and fell over a cliff, almost killing himself. As he was wondering how he could get to the road again, a unicorn came along, stopped and looked over at him. The man began to beg and plead, saying, “You are such a nice unicorn. I have never harmed any animal, except when I was hunting and hungry, and I never would hurt you.” He begged and coaxed until the unicorn came down and helped him up on the road again. When he was safely out he said, “Now I know the road out of here, so I have no more use for you.” He grabbed his gun and shot the unicorn dead. Sure enough, it was a bad road and he wandered around and around, but could find no end, no way out, and wished he had asked the unicorn the right road before he had killed him. Finally growing tired and weak and hungry, and no one coming to help him, he fell down the cliff again and died.

Moral: Don’t be sure you know more than you do.

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TWENTY-TWO

The Decision of the Official as to Who Owned the One Hundred Ounces of Silver

When the official is avaricious there is much talk—when a poor man eats meat and wine it is the same.

Tibetan Proverb.

ONCE upon a time, in a tiny hut on the side of a mountain, there lived an old wood-cutter who was blind, but who had a dutiful son who cared for him very well. The son went upon the mountain one day to bring in his load of wood, and as he was carrying it on his back down the steep path, he found a little leather bag, in which were ten pieces of ten-ounce silver chunks. This was a great fortune and meant ease for himself and his father all the rest of their lives. He hurried home, and when his father asked him how he had fared that day he answered, “Fine. I’ve just found a bag of silver, and we won’t tell anybody about it at all.” But the father said, “No, we must be honest. Bring it here and let me see it, and then take it up to the head-man of the village and tell him all about it.” The old man took it out of the sack, felt it all over and put it back again, and then bade his son take it to the official.

One day a man came walking in and said he had lost his bag of silver. The official thought he could find it for him and sent for the young fellow to bring him the bag, but when the man found he was going to get his money back so easily he said to himself he would claim a little more. He told the official he had twenty pieces in the bag and the boy had stolen ten of them. The head-man quietly said to one of his servants, “You go down and hear the blind man’s story of the affair and come back and tell me what he says.”

Then, when the servant returned he said the old man’s story was the same as the boy had told. The man who had claimed the silver stood waiting, expecting to have the ten pieces and ten more added to it as well. The official said, “This silver belongs to the boy, this is not yours. Yours had twenty pieces and this has only ten. You will have to look elsewhere for yours and I will let the boy keep this to help him in the support of his old father.”

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TWENTY-THREE Story of the Prince’s Friend

A man without jewels in the mountain has no need to fear the robbers.

Tibetan Proverb.

AWAY, away up in the mountains was a village, and in the village lived a very wise king and his only son. Near by flowed a river; up above was a big pond from which came the water that irrigated their fields, and above the pond, in a crevice from which flowed the water, lived two big frogs, who belonged to the lower regions. To these frogs, every year, some person had to be sacrificed or the supply of water was cut off by them as they sat in the crevice, through which the supply came. Each family in turn had paid its tax of a child, until now it was the turn of the king to furnish the yearly sacrifice. So the old king began to think and wonder which had better go—he or his son—each one thinking he should be the one. The father said, “I’m an old man, and if I go and get eaten up it doesn’t matter, for I wouldn’t live much longer anyway. So, my son, when I’m gone you must be a good ruler and govern the people wisely.”

The prince said to his father, “This will never do; you are a good king to these people and you can get another wife and have more sons, so don’t say any more about it, for I’m going.”

One morning he started for the place. All the people went with him a little way and felt very bad to see him leave them and his father. After a while all of them returned home except one friend of his childhood, who still went on with him, crying and grieving. The prince now turned to him and said, “You must go back and be a good son to your father and care for him when he is old.” But his friend replied, “When I was a child and poor you cared for me, fed me and clothed me, now you must not go and let those frogs eat you up. I’ll go in your place.”

The prince would hear of no such plan, however, and as his friend refused to return, they both went on together and arrived at the mouth of the gorge where they saw one green frog and one yellow frog sitting together talking. The yellow one said to the green one, “Here comes the prince and his friend, and if they are wise they would take a clod and kill us, then they would have all the water they needed, and whenever they wished they could vomit gold and jewels. But they don’t understand frog talk, so they don’t know what we are saying.” But the king’s son did understand, for in those days all kings and their sons understood what the animals said. So he told his friend and they each got a club, killed and ate the frogs, and plenty of water came through the crevices.

“Well,” the friend said, “now these frogs are eaten and out of the way, let’s go home.”

But the prince said, “No, it would be better if we go to a far country, as the people think we are eaten by those frogs, and if we return now, they will think we are ghosts and fear us exceedingly.”

So they crossed the mountain and went down on the other side, where they came to a wine shop kept by a woman and her daughter, and went in.

“Bring out your wine,” they said, “we wish to buy some. How much do you ask for it?” When brought they vomited a few jewels which they gave as pay for it.

The two women, when they saw how they got their money for the wine, said, “Drink some more, drink some more,” thinking that if they got them real drunk they would throw up a lot of gold. They were soon very sick sure enough and threw up gold and jewels all