Note.
An account of the various forms of the introduction to the XXV Tales of a Demon will be found in Oesterley’s German translation of the Baitál Pachísí. The Hindi version contains the well-known story of Theodosius the younger and his wife Athenais or Eudokia. The Mongolian form differs widely from that in our text. Seven brothers, sorcerers, live in India; a mile from them live two Khan’s sons; the elder of these studies magic under the seven enchanters for seven years, but learns nothing; the younger acquires their art in a moment, and both return to their palace. The younger turns himself into a horse, which the elder by his order sells to the seven enchanters. These try to kill the horse, but the Khan’s son then turns himself into a fish, which the enchanters pursue in the form of seven sea-gulls, then into a dove, which they pursue as seven hawks, then he takes refuge with Nágárjuna, becoming the chief bead in his rosary, and asks him to put this bead in his mouth and to strew the rest on the ground. The beads then become worms which the sorcerers pick up in the form of hens. The Khan’s son changes himself into a man, and kills the hens with a stick, when lo! seven human corpses are seen lying on the ground. As a penance for this crime the Khan’s son is sent to fetch the Siddhi-kür, which he fastens up in a bag, and which behaves in much the same way as the Vetála does in our text.
It is remarkable that there are no questions addressed by the Siddhi-kür to his captor. At the end of every story the Khan’s son utters an involuntary, often meaningless exclamation, of which the Siddhi-kür takes advantage. (Oesterley’s Baitál Pachísí, pp. 174 and 175.)
Oesterley refers to an Arabian form of the 1st story in Scott’s Tales, Anecdotes and Letters, 1800, p. 108. A painter falls in love with the picture of a beauty, and finds that the original is in the possession of a certain minister. He penetrates in disguise into the minister’s harem, wounds his beloved in the hand and takes away her veil. He then goes in the disguise of a pilgrim to the king, and says that he has seen six witches, and that he has wounded one of them, who left her veil behind her. The veil is recognized, the owner produced, convicted by her veil, and as a witch flung into a chasm. There the painter finds her, rescues her and carries her off. See also the 1001 Nights, Breslau, 1, p. 245 (Oesterley’s Baitál Pachísí, pp. 182 and 183).
[1] The Mongolian form of these stories is to be found in Sagas from the Far East. This work appears to be based upon a translation made by Jülg from the Calmuck language. Oesterley, in his German version of these tales, tells us that Jülg’s translation appeared in Leipzig in the year 1866 under the title of “The tales of the Siddhikür.” Oesterley mentions a Sanskrit redaction of the tales, attributed to Śivadása, and one contained in the Kathárnava. He also mentions a Tamul version translated into English by Babington under the title of Vetála Cadai; two Telugu versions, a Mahratta version, the well-known Hindi version, a Bengali version based upon the Hindi, and a Canarese version.
[2] Here there is probably a pun. The word translated “jackal” also means the god Śiva. Bhairava is a form of Śiva.
[4] This story is the 27th in Miss Stokes’s collection.
[5] I read saṭáláni, which I find in the Sanskrit College MS., instead of sajáláni. The mistake may have arisen from the blending of two readings saṭálani and jaṭáláni.
[6] In this there is a pun; the word translated “lotus” may also refer to Lakshmí the wife of Vishṇu.
[7] Pandit Śyámá Charan Mukhopádhyáya thinks that the word dantagháṭaka must mean “dentist:” the Petersburg lexicographers take it to mean, “a worker in ivory.” His name Sangrámavardhana has a warlike sound. Pandit Maheśa Chandra Nyáyaratna thinks that dantagháṭa is a proper name. If so, sangrámavardhana must mean prime minister.
[8] Cp. the way in which Pushpadanta’s preceptor guesses the riddle in page 44 of Vol. I of this work; so Prince Ivan is assisted by his tutor Katoma in the story of “The Blind Man and the Cripple,” Ralston’s Russian Folk-Tales, p. 240. Compare also the story of Azeez and Azeezeh in Lane’s Arabian Nights, Vol. I, particularly page 484. The rapid manner, in which the hero and heroine fall in love in these stories, is quite in the style of Greek romances. See Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, p. 148.
Chapter LXXVI.
(Vetála 2.)
Then king Trivikramasena again went to the aśoka-tree to fetch the Vetála. And when he arrived there, and looked about in the darkness by the help of the light of the funeral pyres, he saw the corpse lying on the ground groaning. Then the king took the corpse, with the Vetála in it, on his shoulder, and set out quickly and in silence to carry it to the appointed place. Then the Vetála again said to the king from his shoulder, “King, this trouble, into which you have fallen, is great and unsuitable to you; so I will tell you a tale to amuse you, listen.”