Part 2
“Is there not?” answered the Deer. “Well now, let us make a bargain. We will ask the first three living things we meet whether or no there is such a thing as good faith. If they say there is not, then you are welcome to kill and eat me; but if they say there is such a thing, then you shall let me go free.”
“Very good,” said the Tiger, “I agree to that; that is a bargain.”
So the two set off together side by side, and after proceeding a short distance down the road they came upon a large Tree growing by the roadside.
“Good-morning, Brother Tree,” said the Musk Deer, “we want to refer a question to you for your decision.”
The Tree waved its branches in the air and replied in a gentle voice:
“What is your question, Sister Deer? I am ready to do my best to help you.”
“The case is this,” replied the Musk Deer, “a short while ago I found this Tiger shut up in a Woodcutter’s hut in the forest, unable to get out. He called out to me asking me to open the door of the hut, promising me, if I did so, that he would let me go free. So I opened the door and let him out. No sooner was he released than he seized upon me and threatened to kill and eat me; and when I reproached him of breaking his faith, he said he did not believe that there was such a thing as good faith in the world. So we made a bargain that we would ask the first three living things we met whether or no there is such a thing as good faith in this world. If they say there is not, then the Tiger is to kill and eat me; but if they say that there is such a thing, then I am to go free. Will you please give us an opinion as to whether such a thing as good faith exists or not.”
On hearing this story the great Tree moved its branches slowly in the breeze and replied as follows:
“I am much interested in your story, Sister Deer, and would gladly help you if I could; but I am bound to answer you honestly in accordance with my own experience of life. Now consider my own case. I grow here by the roadside and spread my branches over the dusty highway ready to give shelter to man and beast in their shade. Travellers passing constantly up and down the road avail themselves of this cool retreat, and they come themselves and they bring their poor beasts of burden to rest in my shadow. And then what happens? Are they grateful to me for the comfort which I afford them? Does my example inspire them with any consideration for others? Far from it. When they have rested and refreshed themselves enough, they proceed on their way, and not only do they not thank me for my hospitality, but they break off my tender branches and use them as whips, further to goad and distress their weary animals. Can such conduct as that be called good faith? No, I am bound to say that my experience of life leads me to believe that there is no such thing as good faith in this world.”
The poor Musk Deer was much cast down on hearing these words, and she and the Tiger moved on together till, a little farther along the road, they caught sight of a Cow Buffalo and her Calf grazing quietly in a field of succulent grass. They noticed that the old Cow contented herself with the driest and smallest patches of grass, whilst showing her Calf where to find the richest and most luxuriant pasture, and that she willingly deprived herself of any comfort in order to afford pleasure to the youngster. The Tiger and the Deer approached the old Cow, and the Deer, addressing her, said:
“Good-morning, Aunt Buffalo! This Tiger and I have a small matter which we wish to refer to you for an opinion.”
The Buffalo gazed at them with her big eyes, and after ruminating for a while she replied slowly:
“Say on, Sister Deer, I am ready to give you my opinion for what it is worth.”
“Well,” said the Deer, “this Tiger was shut up in a hut in the forest, and being unable to open the door, he was in danger of starving to death. I happened to pass by, and he called to me, asking me to let him out, promising that if I did so he would spare my life. So I opened the door and released him. But no sooner was he free than he seized upon me and said that he would kill and eat me; and when I reproached him with his bad faith, he replied that he did not believe that such a thing as good faith existed. So we made a bargain that we would ask the first three living things we met whether or no they believed that there is such a thing as good faith. If they say there is not, then the Tiger is to eat me; but if they say that there is such a thing, I am to go free. Now, will you please give us your opinion on the matter.”
On hearing this statement the old Buffalo continued to chew the cud for some minutes, and then replied gravely:
“I would gladly help you in the matter, Sister Deer, if I could; but I must regard it from the point of view of my own experience in life. I am considering the case of myself and my Calf. While the Calf is young and tender, I do all in my power to nourish and care for it. I first give it my milk, and later on, as you see, I encourage it to browse upon the best of the herbage, whilst I gladly stint myself in order that it may have plenty of the best of everything. But what happens later on, when the Calf grows strong and lusty? Does it remember its old mother with gratitude, and fend for her in her old age? Far from it. As soon as it is big enough it will push me away from the places where I am grazing and take the best for itself, and will drive me away altogether from the pastures if it can. Can that be called keeping faith with its mother? No; my experience makes me believe that there is no such thing as good faith in this world.”
When the Musk Deer heard this she was much downhearted, and fully expected to be killed and eaten without further delay; but she begged the Tiger to give her one more chance, saying that she was fully prepared to abide by the opinion of the third person whom they met.
The Tiger consented to this, and after going on a little farther together they met a Hare, hopping quietly down the road towards them.
“Good-morning, Brother Hare,” called out the Musk Deer; “could you spare us a few moments to give us an opinion upon a point of difference which has arisen between this Tiger and myself?”
“Certainly,” replied the Hare, stopping short in the roadway. “I shall be delighted to do the best I can for you.”
“Well,” replied the Musk Deer, “the facts are as follows: I was drinking just now at a stream in the forest when I noticed this Tiger shut up in a Woodcutter’s hut. The door was bolted outside, and he was unable to come out, and was in danger of starving to death, so he called out to me, asking me to release him, promising me, if I did so, that he would spare my life. I accordingly opened the door; but no sooner did the Tiger come out, than he seized upon me, saying that he was so hungry that he had really no alternative but to devour me on the spot. And when I reproached him for his bad faith, he replied that he did not know what good faith was, and, in fact, did not believe that such a thing existed. So we made a bargain that we would ask the first three living creatures we met whether or no there is such a thing as good faith in this world. If they say there is, then I am to go free; but if they say there is not, then the Tiger is at liberty to kill and eat me. We have already consulted two persons in the matter, and they are both of opinion that there is no such thing as good faith. You are the third and last, and on your decision depends my life.”
“Dear me,” replied the Hare, “this is a very strange story, and before giving an opinion on so momentous a matter it is necessary that I should understand exactly how it all happened. Let me see. You say that you were shut up in the Woodcutter’s hut.”
“No, no,” broke in the Tiger; “it was I who was shut up in the Woodcutter’s hut.”
“Oh! I see,” said the Hare; “then the Musk Deer must have shut you in?”
“Oh! no,” interrupted the Musk Deer. “You don’t seem to understand at all; that was not how it happened.”
“Well,” said the Hare, “it is such a complicated story that it is difficult to follow it exactly. So before giving a decision I propose that we all adjourn to the scene of action, and there you can explain to me precisely what occurred.”
The Tiger and the Musk Deer agreed to this, and the three set off together until they arrived at the Woodcutter’s hut in the forest.
“Now,” said the Hare, “will you please explain to me exactly what happened. Where, for instance, were you, Sister Deer, at the time the Tiger spoke to you?”
“I was down here drinking at the stream, so,” replied the Deer, going off to the place in question.
“And where were you, Uncle Tiger?” said the Hare.
“Well, I was inside the hut, thus,” replied the Tiger, going inside the house.
“And the door, I presume, must have been shut, so?” said the Hare. And so saying he shut the door and bolted it; and he and the Deer went on their way safely, leaving the Tiger shut up inside, where he shortly after starved to death.
STORY No. IV.
THE STORY OF THE TWO NEIGHBOURS.
Once upon a time there were two Neighbours living in two houses, side by side, in the same village. One of these was rich, and the other one poor. The rich man, whose name was Tse-ring, was proud, arrogant, and stingy; whilst the poor man, whose name was Cham-ba, was a kind-hearted man, who was generous to all as far as his means allowed.
Now it happened that a pair of Sparrows came and built their nest in the eaves over the doorway of the poor man’s house, where, in the course of time, the young birds were hatched out. One day, before the young birds had learnt to fly, the two old Sparrows were away hunting for food, and one of the young ones fell out of its nest on to the poor man’s door-step, and broke its leg. Shortly after the poor man coming into his house saw the young Sparrow lying helpless on his door-step, so he picked it up to see what was wrong, and found that its leg was broken. So he carried it into the house, and very carefully bound up its leg with a piece of thread; and then took it up to the roof, and put it back in the nest.
Now this Sparrow, although the poor man did not know it, was really a fairy in disguise, and later on, when it had grown up, it flew out one day and returned with its beak full of grain. The poor man was sitting in his house when the little Sparrow flew in and perched on the table in front of him. It dropped the grain on the table, and after giving one or two chirps it said to the man:
“This grain is in return for your kindness to me. Plant it in your garden and see what comes up,” and so saying it flew away.
The poor man was very much surprised at hearing the Sparrow speak, and he thought to himself:
“Well, this is not a very valuable present, but still it shows how grateful even a little bird can be for a kindness done to him; and any way I will plant the grain in my garden as it directed.”
So he planted the grain just in front of his house, and soon forgot all about the incident.
A month or two later the grain grew, and soon attained its full height; and one day the poor man, going to look at it, was astonished to find that, instead of grain, each ear of corn contained a valuable jewel. He was very much delighted at this discovery, and having collected all the jewels, he carried them away to a neighbouring town, where he was able to sell them for a large sum of money, and thus found himself in a condition of great comfort and prosperity.
Soon after this the rich Neighbour, having observed the change which had taken place in the poor man’s circumstances, came over one day in order to try and find out how Cham-ba had become so rich and prosperous. He carried over with him a jug of beer, and, on the pretence of conviviality, he offered his Neighbour a drink, and during the course of the conversation which followed he asked Cham-ba to tell him the secret of his new wealth. Cham-ba, who was of a very unsuspicious nature, related to him the whole story of the Sparrow, the grain, and the jewels, and having learnt the secret the rich man returned to his own house, pondering deeply how he could turn this story to his own advantage.
Now it happened that a Sparrow had hatched out her young in a nest just over his house door also. So next day he went up on to the roof, and leaning out over the parapet he picked out a young Sparrow from the nest with a pair of chop-sticks, and dropped it on to the ground below, where the poor little bird broke its leg. He then went down, picked up the young Sparrow, bound up its leg with a piece of thread, and put it back into its nest, saying as he did so that he hoped it would remember his kindness.
Sure enough, when the Sparrow grew up it flew into his house one day, and perched on the table before him. It dropped some grain from its beak, and after a few preliminary chirps it said:
“This grain is a present in return for your kindness to me. Plant it in your garden and see what grows up.”
The rich man was greatly delighted on hearing this, and thought to himself that he would soon be the possessor of beautiful jewels like his Neighbour. He prepared a bed very carefully in his garden, and planted the grain in the richest part of the soil. Every day he used to go and watch the spot, carefully examining the young shoots to see how they were getting on.
The seeds sprouted and grew very fast, and one morning, when he went out as usual to see how his crop was doing, to his astonishment he found that instead of a few stalks of barley, as he had expected, a great fierce-looking man, with a bundle of papers under his arm, was standing in the middle of the bed. The rich man was very frightened at seeing this truculent-looking stranger, and asked who he was.
“I was a creditor of yours in one of your former existences,” replied the Apparition. “You were then heavily in my debt, and I have come back here with all the necessary documents to claim what you owed me.”
So saying, the Stranger seized upon the rich man’s house, his cattle, his sheep, his lands, and all his possessions, and reduced the rich man to the position of a slave in his household.
Some months after, Cham-ba, now rich and prosperous, started off on a journey, and before going he asked Tse-ring to take charge of a bag of gold-dust for him, and to keep it until he returned. Tse-ring undertook the charge of the gold, but in his new state of poverty and dependence he was unable to resist the temptation of spending some of it, and at last he found that the whole of the gold left in his charge was exhausted. Not knowing what to do he filled the bag with sand, and awaited his Neighbour’s return with some trepidation.
A few days after Cham-ba came back from his journey, and called upon his Neighbour, and asked for his bag of gold. Tse-ring produced the bag and handed it over to Cham-ba without saying anything, and when Cham-ba opened it to see whether the gold was all right he found that it contained sand instead of gold.
“How is this?” said he. “I entrusted to you a bag of gold-dust, and you have given me back only sand.”
The dishonest Neighbour had no reply to make. He pretended to look very surprised, and all he could say was:
“My friend, it has turned into this! My friend, it has turned into this!”
Cham-ba said nothing more, but carried off the bag to his own house.
Soon afterwards Cham-ba announced his intention of starting a school for little boys, where they would be taught free, and Tse-ring, thinking that a free education for his Son was not to be neglected, sent over his young Son to attend the school. A few days later he found it necessary to make a short journey to a neighbouring town, and before starting he entrusted his little Son to his neighbour, Cham-ba, and asked him to look after the boy until his return.
As soon as he was gone Cham-ba procured a tame Monkey and taught it to say the following words.
“Worthy father, I am turned into this! Worthy father, I am turned into this!”
When Tse-ring returned from his journey he walked over to the school-house one day to see how his Son was getting on, and he found Cham-ba seated there teaching the boys their lessons. Tse-ring looked round to see his Son, but could not detect him anywhere, but to his surprise he noticed a Monkey seated on one of the benches.
“Where is my son?” asked Tse-ring, “and how is he getting on?”
Cham-ba said nothing, but picked up the Monkey and carried it to him.
“What do you mean by this?” said Tse-ring. “This is not my Son. Where is the boy whom I entrusted to your care?”
Whereupon the Monkey spoke up and said:
“Worthy father, I am turned into this! Worthy father, I am turned into this!”
The father flew into a violent rage and stormed at his neighbour, Cham-ba, for some time, but without producing any impression. Finally, on thinking the matter over, he decided it was better to pay up the gold he had stolen, on condition of having his proper Son restored to him.
STORY No. V.
THE STORY OF THE CAT AND THE MICE.
Once upon a time there was a Cat who lived in a large farm-house in which there was a great number of Mice. For many years the Cat found no difficulty in catching as many Mice as she wanted to eat, and she lived a very peaceful and pleasant life. But as time passed on she found that she was growing old and infirm, and that it was becoming more and more difficult for her to catch the same number of Mice as before; so after thinking very carefully what was the best thing to do, she one day called all the Mice together, and after promising not to touch them, she addressed them as follows:
“Oh! Mice,” said she, “I have called you together in order to say something to you. The fact is that I have led a very wicked life, and now, in my old age, I repent of having caused you all so much inconvenience and annoyance. So I am going for the future to turn over a new leaf. It is my intention now to give myself up entirely to religious contemplation and no longer to molest you, so henceforth you are at liberty to run about as freely as you will without fear of me. All I ask of you is that twice every day you should all file past me in procession and each one make an obeisance as you pass me by, as a token of your gratitude to me for my kindness.”
When the Mice heard this they were greatly pleased, for they thought that now, at last, they would be free from all danger from their former enemy, the Cat. So they very thankfully promised to fulfil the Cat’s conditions, and agreed that they would file past her and make a salaam twice every day.
So when evening came the Cat took her seat on a cushion at one end of the room, and the Mice all went by in single file, each one making a profound salaam as it passed.
Now the cunning old Cat had arranged this little plan very carefully with an object of her own; for, as soon as the procession had all passed by with the exception of one little Mouse, she suddenly seized the last Mouse in her claws without anybody else noticing what had happened, and devoured it at her leisure. And so twice every day, she seized the last Mouse of the series, and for a long time lived very comfortably without any trouble at all in catching her Mice, and without any of the Mice realising what was happening.
Now it happened that amongst these Mice there were two friends, whose names were Rambé and Ambé, who were very much attached to one another. Now these two were much cleverer and more cunning than most of the others, and after a few days they noticed that the number of Mice in the house seemed to be decreasing very much, in spite of the fact that the Cat had promised not to kill any more. So they laid their heads together and arranged a little plan for future processions. They agreed that Rambé was always to walk at the very front of the procession of the Mice, and that Ambé was to bring up the rear, and that all the time the procession was passing, Rambé was to call to Ambé, and Ambé to answer Rambé at frequent intervals. So next evening, when the procession started as usual, Rambé marched along in front, and Ambé took up his position last of all. As soon as Rambé had passed the cushion where the Cat was seated and had made his salaam, he called out in a shrill voice.
“Where are you, Brother Ambé?”
“Here I am, Brother Rambé,” squeaked the other from the rear of the procession. And so they went on calling and answering one another until they had all filed past the Cat, who had not dared to touch Ambé as long as his brother kept calling to him.