When she arrived at the tank her brothers said to her, "Oh! daughter, set down the basket under yonder tree." She did so, and the brothers came to where she was. They then said to her, "Go bring us water from the tank to drink." She took her water-pot under her arm, and went into the tank, but did not at once find water. Presently, however, she saw the sheen of water in the centre, and went to fill her pitcher, but she could not do so, as the water rose so rapidly. The tank was soon full to the brim, and the girl was drowned.

The brothers having seen their sister perish, went home. Their mother enquired, "Oh! my sons, where is the daughter?" They replied, "We have given her to the tank. A certain jugi gosae said to us, 'Unless you offer up your sister you will never get water'." On hearing this she loudly wailed the loss of her daughter. Her sons strove to mitigate her grief by saying, "Look mother, we undertook the excavation of the tank to perpetuate our name, and to gain the fruit of a meritorious work. And unless there be water in the tank for men and cattle to drink, where is the perpetuation of our name? By our offering up the daughter the tank is full to overflowing. So the cattle can now quench their thirst, and travellers, when they encamp near by and drink the water, will say, 'The excavators of this tank deserve the thanks of all. We, and others who pa.s.s by are recipients of their bounty. Their merit is indeed great'." In this way with many such like arguments they sought to allay their mother's grief.

Right in the centre of the tank, where the girl was drowned, there sprang up an Upel flower the purple, sheen of which filled the beholder with delight.

It has already been stated that the girl had been betrothed, and that her family had received the money for her. The day appointed for the marriage arrived, and the bridegroom's party with drums, elephants and horses, set out for the bride's house. On arrival they were informed that she had left her home, and that all efforts to trace her had proved fruitless. So they returned home greatly disappointed. It so happened that their way lay past the tank in which the girl had been sacrificed, and the bridegroom, from his palki, saw the Upel flower in the centre. As he wished to possess himself of it, he ordered his bearers to set down the palki, and stepping out prepared to swim out to pluck the flower. His companions tried to dissuade him, but as he insisted he was permitted to enter the water. He swam to within a short distance of the flower, but as he stretched out his hand to pluck it, the Upel flower, moving away, said, "Chi! Chi! Chi! Chi! You may be either a Dom or a Hadi, do not touch me." The bridegroom replied, "Not so. Are not we two one?" He made another effort to seize the flower, but it again moved away, saying, "Chi! Chi! Chi! Chi! you may be a Dom or a Hadi, so do not touch me." To which he replied, "Not so. You and I are one." He swam after it again, but the flower eluded his grasp, and said, "Chi! Chi! Chi! Chi! You may be a Dom, or you may be a Hadi, so do not touch me." He said, "Not so. You and I are bride and bridegroom for ever." Then the Upel flower allowed itself to be plucked, and the bridegroom returned to his company bearing it with him.

He entered his palki and the cortege started. They had not proceeded far before the bearers were convinced that the palki was increasing in weight. They said, "How is it that it is now so heavy? A short time ago it was light." So they pushed aside the panel, and beheld the bride and bridegroom sitting side by side. The marriage party on hearing the glad news rejoiced exceedingly. They beat drums, shouted, danced, and fired off guns. Thus they proceeded on their homeward way.

When the bridegroom's family heard the noise, they said, one to the other "Sister, they have arrived." Then they went forth to meet the bridegroom, and brought them in with great rejoicing. The bride was she who had been the Upel flower, and was exceedingly beautiful. In form she was both human and divine. The village people, as well as the marriage guests, when they saw her, exclaimed, "What a beautiful bride! She is the fairest bride that we have seen. She has no peer." Thus they all praised her beauty.

It so happened that in the meantime the mother and brothers of the girl had become poor. They were reduced to such straits as to be compelled to sell firewood for a living. So one day the brothers went to the bridegroom's village with firewood for sale. They offered it to one and another, but no one would buy. At last some one said, "Take it to the house in which the marriage party is a.s.sembled. They may require it." So the brothers went there, and asked, "Will you buy firewood?" They replied, "Yes. We will take it." Some one informed the bride, that some men from somewhere had brought firewood for sale. So she went out, and at once recognised her brothers, and said to them, "Put down your loads," and when they had done so she placed beds for them to sit on, and brought them water; but they did not know that she was their sister, as she was so greatly changed. Then she gave them vessels of oil, and said, "Go bathe, for you will dine here to-day." So they took the oil, and went to bathe, but they were so hungry that they drank the oil on the way. So they bathed, and returned to the house. She then brought them water to wash their hands, and they sat down in a row to eat. The bride gave her youngest brother food on a bra.s.s plate, because he had not approved of what had been done to her, but to the others she gave it on leaf plates.

They had only eaten one handful of rice when the girl placed herself in front of them, and putting a hand upon her head, began to weep bitterly. She exclaimed, "Oh! my brothers, you had no pity upon me. You threw me away as an offering to the tank. You saw me lost, and then went home." When the brothers heard this they felt as if their b.r.e.a.s.t.s were torn open. If they looked up to heaven, heaven was high. Then they saw an axe which they seized, and with it they struck the ground with all their might. It opened like the mouth of a large tiger, and the brothers plunged in. The girl caught the youngest brother by the hair to pull him up, but it came away in her hand, and they all disappeared into the bowels of the earth, which closed over them.

The girl held the hair in her hand and wept over it. She then planted it, and from it sprang the hair like Bachkom [22] gra.s.s, and from that time Bachkom gra.s.s grows in the jungles.

The sister had pity on her youngest brother because he did not join heartily with the others in causing her death. So she tried to rescue him from the fate which was about to overtake him, but in this she failed, and he suffered for the sins of his brothers.

THE STORY OF Jh.o.r.e.

There was a lad named Jh.o.r.e, who herded goats, and every day while with his flock he saw a tiger and a lizard fight. The lizard always vanquished the tiger, and the latter after each encounter came to Jh.o.r.e and said, "Which of us won?" Jh.o.r.e through fear every time replied, "You won," and the tiger went away pleased.

One day Jh.o.r.e said to his mother, give me some roasted matkom in a leaf, and put me into a bag and I will tell you something. So she wrapped up some matkom in a leaf, and Jh.o.r.e crept into the bag and she tied its mouth. Then she said, "What is it, my son, which you wish to tell me?" Jh.o.r.e replied, "Every day when I am tending my goats I see a tiger and a lizard fight, and the tiger is vanquished by the lizard. The tiger then comes to me and asks, 'which of us won?' Through fear I say, you won, then the tiger goes away satisfied."

While Jh.o.r.e was relating the foregoing to his mother the tiger was listening at the door, and as he finished his story it rushed in, and seizing the bag carried it off to a dense unexplored forest, on a hill in the middle of which he placed it. Jh.o.r.e was very uncomfortable, and was considering how he could best free himself from the bag. As he was hungry he was reminded of the matkom he had with him wrapped in a leaf, so he began to open it, and the dried leaf crackled. The tiger hearing the noise, asked what produced it. Jh.o.r.e replied, "It is yesterday's lizard." The tidings of the presence of his mortal enemy so terrified the tiger that he exclaimed, "Stop, stop, Jh.o.r.e. Do not release him. Let me first escape." After the tiger left Jh.o.r.e rolled down the hill side, and away into a still denser forest, in an open spot of which he came to a stop. The fastening of the bag was loosed by this time, and Jh.o.r.e crawled out. All round this open glade in which our hero found himself was dense forest never trodden by the foot of man, and tenanted by a herd of wild buffaloes. Jh.o.r.e took up his residence there, and subsisted on the roasted matkom as long as it lasted.

Jh.o.r.e in his explorations found a number of buffaloe calves left behind by their mothers who had gone to graze. He tended these daily, cleaning the place where they lived, and taking them to the water, where he washed them. In this way a bond of friendship was established between him and the wild buffaloe calves.

Before the buffaloe cows left for their grazing grounds in the mornings the calves said, "You stay away till so late at night that, we are almost famished before you return. Leave some milk with us, so that when hungry we may drink it." So they left a supply of milk with them, which they gave to Jh.o.r.e. He took such care of his charges that he soon became a great favourite with them.

Matters went on thus for many days till at last the buffaloe cows said among themselves, "We must watch for, and catch whoever it is who keeps our calves so clean." So a very powerful wild buffaloe was appointed to lie in wait, but he missed seeing Jh.o.r.e when he led the calves to the water and bathed them, and cleaned and swept out their stall. The next day another took his place, but he succeeded no better. The calves were taken to the water, bathed, brought back, and their stall cleaned and swept as usual without his seeing who did it. When the others returned in the evening he informed them that he had failed to solve the mystery. So they said, "What shall we do now? How shall we catch him? Who will watch to-morrow?" A old buffaloe cow replied, "I will accept the responsibility." Hearing her speak thus the others said, "What a good elephant and a good horse could not do, will ten a.s.ses accomplish?" By this they meant, that two of the strongest of their number having failed, this weak old cow could not possibly succeed. However, she persisted, and in the morning the others went to graze leaving her behind.

In a short time she saw Jh.o.r.e emerge from the dunghill, in which he resided, and loose the calves, and take them to the water. When he brought them back he cleaned and swept their stall, and then re-entered the dunghill. In the evening the others enquired, "Well, did you see him?" The old buffaloe cow replied, "Yes, I saw him, but I will not tell you, for you will kill him." They pressed her, but she refused, saying, "You will kill him." They said, "Why should we kill him who takes so much care of our young ones?" The old buffaloe cow led them to the dunghill, and said, "He is in here." So they called to him to come out, which he did, and when they saw him they were all greatly pleased, so much so that they there and then hired him to continue to do the work he had been doing so well. They arranged also to give him a regular daily supply of milk, so he was duly installed by the herd of wild buffaloes as care-taker of their calves.

Long after this, he one day took his calves to the river and after he had bathed them he said to the buffaloe calves, "Wait for me till I also bathe." They replied, "Bathe, we will graze close by." He having performed his ablutions sat down on the river bank to comb and dress his hair, which was twelve cubits long. In combing his tangled tresses a quant.i.ty was wrenched out, this he wrapped up in a leaf and threw into the stream. It was carried by the current a great distance down to where a raja's daughter and her companions were bathing. The raja's daughter saw the leaf floating towards her, and ordered one of her attendants to bring it to her. When the leaf was opened it was found to contain hair twelve cubits in length. Immediately after measuring the hair the raja's daughter complained of fever, and hasted home to her couch. The raja being informed of his daughter's illness sent for the most skilled physicians, who prescribed all the remedies their pharmacopoeia contained, but failed to afford the sufferer any relief. The grief of the raja was therefore intense.

Then his daughter said to him, "Oh! father, I have one word to say to you. If you do as I wish, I shall recover." The raja replied, "Tell me what it is, I shall do my best to please you." So she said, "If you find me one with hair twelve cubits long and bring him to me, I shall rally at once." The raja said, "It is well."

The raja caused diligent search to be made for the person with hair twelve cubits long. He said to a certain jugi, "You traverse the country far and near, find me the man with hair twelve cubits long." The jugi enquired everywhere, but could obtain no intelligence concerning him.

They then made up a parcel of flour and gave it to a crow, whom they sent to try and find him. The crow flew caw cawing all over the district, but returned at last and reported failure, saying, "there is not such a man in the world."

After this they again made up a small parcel of flour, and giving it to a tame paroquet, said, "Find a man with hair twelve cubits long." The paroquet, having received his orders, flew away screeching, and mounting high up into the sky, directed his course straight for the unexplored forest. In the meantime the dunghill in which Jh.o.r.e resided had become a palace.

The paroquet alighted on a tree near Jh.o.r.e's palace, and began to whistle. On hearing the unusual sound Jh.o.r.e came out and saw the paroquet who was speaking and whistling. The paroquet also eyed him narrowly, and was delighted to see his hair trailing on the ground. By this he knew that he had found the object of his search, and with a scream of delight, he flew away to communicate the tidings to the raja.

The raja was overjoyed with his messenger's report, and ordered the bariat to set out immediately. In a short time they were on their way accompanied by elephants, horses, drums, and fifes. On reaching Jh.o.r.e's palace they were about to enter for the purpose of seizing him, when he exclaimed, "Do not pa.s.s my threshold." They replied, "We will carry you away with us." He said, "Do not come near." "We will certainly carry you away," they replied. Jh.o.r.e then ran into his house, and seizing his flute mounted to the roof, and began to play. As the notes of the flute resounded through the forest it seemed to say,

A staff of Pader [23] wood A flute of Erandom [24]

Return, return, return, Oh! wild buffaloe cows.

The sound of the flute startled the wild buffaloes, and they said one to another, "Sister. What has happened to Jh.o.r.e?" Then he played again the same as before;

A staff of Pader wood A flute of Erandom Return, return, return, Oh! wild buffaloe cows.

As the echoes of Jh.o.r.e's flute died away in the forest glades the wild buffaloes sprang forward, and rushed to his a.s.sistance. On arrival they found the house and courtyard full of people, and large numbers outside who could not gain admittance. They immediately charged them with all their force, goring many to death, and scattering the remainder, who flung away their drums and fifes, and fled as for dear life.

When the raja heard of their discomfiture he sent again for the paroquet, and giving a small parcel of flour to him said, "Stay some time with him until you gain his confidence, and watch your chance to bring away his flute." Having received his orders he flew off to Jh.o.r.e's palace, and having gained access to where the flute was, when Jh.o.r.e was out of the way he brought it away, and gave it to the raja. The raja was delighted at the sight of the flute, and again ordered the bariat to go to fetch Jh.o.r.e. A still more imposing array than the former started with elephants, horses, drums, fifes, and palkis, and in due course arrived at Jh.o.r.e's residence. On seeing them Jh.o.r.e called out, "Do not approach, or you will rue it presently." They replied, "You beat us off the first time, therefore you now crow, but you will not now be able to balk us, we shall take you with us." Again he warned them to stay where they were, saying, "Do not come near me, or you will rue it presently." They replied, "We will take you with us this time, we will not leave you behind." Jh.o.r.e then ran into his house, and searched for his flute, but as it had been carried away by the paroquet he could not find it, so seizing another he mounted to the roof, and began to play. The flute seemed to say;

A staff of Pader wood A flute of Erandom Return, return, return, Oh! wild buffaloe cows.

The sound startled the wild buffaloes who said one to another "Sister. What is it Jh.o.r.e says?" Again the music of the flute reached their ears, and the entire herd rushed off to Jh.o.r.e's rescue. They charged the crowd in and around the palace of their favourite with such determination that in a few minutes many lay gored to death, and those who were so fortunate as to escape threw down drums, fifes, and palkis, and fled pell mell from the place. The raja, being informed of the catastrophe that had befallen the bariat, again called the paroquet, and after he had given him careful instructions as to how he should proceed, dismissed him. He said, "This time you must stay many days with him, and secure his entire confidence and friendship. Then you must bring away all his flutes, do not leave him one." So the paroquet flew swiftly, and alighted on a tree near to Jh.o.r.e's house, and began to whistle. Jh.o.r.e seeing it was a paroquet brought it food, and induced it to come down, and allow him to take it in his hand. The two, it is said, lived together many days, and greatly enjoyed each other's society. The paroquet when he had informed himself as to where all Jh.o.r.e's flutes were kept, one day tied them all up in a bundle, and carried them to the raja. The sight of the flutes revived the drooping spirits of his Majesty. He gave orders a third time for the bariat to go and bring Jh.o.r.e, so they started with greater pomp and show than before. Elephants, horses, and an immense number of men with drums and fifes, and palkis formed the procession. On their arrival Jh.o.r.e came out of his palace and said to them, "Do not come near, or you will rue it." They replied, "This time we will have you. We will take you with us." Again Jh.o.r.e warning them said, "Come no nearer. If you do, you will see something as good as a show. Do you not remember how you fared the other day?" But they said, "We will carry you away with us." Jh.o.r.e ran inside to get his flute, so that he might call the wild buffaloes to his a.s.sistance; but no flute was to be found. Without the help of his powerful friends he could offer no resistance, so they seized him, and bore him away in triumph to the raja.

When the raja's daughter heard of his arrival the fever suddenly left her, and she was once more in excellent health. She and Jh.o.r.e were united in the bonds of marriage forthwith; but Jh.o.r.e was kept a close prisoner in the palace.

In course of time a son blessed the union, and when the child was able to walk Jh.o.r.e's wife said to him, "Where is the large herd of buffaloes which you boast so much about? If they were here "Sonny"

would have milk and curds daily." Jh.o.r.e plucking up courage, replied, "If you do not believe me order a stockade to be constructed thirty-two miles long and thirty-two miles broad, and you shall soon behold my buffaloes." So they made a pen thirty-two miles long and thirty-two miles broad. Then Jh.o.r.e said, "Give me my old flute, and you all remain within doors." So they brought him his flute, and he went up on to the roof of the palace, and played. The music seemed to call as follows:

A staff of Pader wood A flute of Erandom Return, return, return, Oh! wild buffaloe cows.

The sound startled the wild buffaloes in their forest home, and they said one to another, "Sister. What does Jh.o.r.e say?" Again the music seemed to say,

A staff of Pader wood A flute of Erandom Return, return, return, Oh! wild buffaloe cows.

At Jh.o.r.e's second call the herd of wild buffaloes dashed off at their utmost speed, and never halted till they reached the raja's palace. They came in such numbers that the pen could not contain them all, many remained outside.

Those that entered the pen are the domesticated buffaloes of to-day, and those who were without are the wild buffaloes still found in the forests of India.