THE MAN WHO RODE A TIGER
Once upon a time, in a terrible thunderstorm, a big Tiger crept for shelter close to the wall of an old woman’s hut. Now, this old woman was very poor. Her hut was a tumbledown old place, and the rain leaked through the holes in her roof.
“Drip-drip-drip,” fell the rain, and the poor old woman tried to drag her furniture away from the holes in the roof.
“Oh, dear, oh, dear!” she moaned. “What an awful storm! I’m sure I would not be nearly as afraid of a big tiger, or an elephant, or a lion, as I am of this perpetual dripping—dripping.” And she dragged her bed across the room to get it away from the dripping water.
The Tiger, crouching against the house, heard every word. “This perpetual dripping that frightens her more than a tiger, or an elephant, or a lion, must be very terrible,” he said. “What can this perpetual dripping be?”
And, then, as he heard her dragging the things about in the house, he said, “My, what a horrible noise! Surely that noise must be perpetual dripping.”
Now, at this moment, a Chattee-maker (potter) came down the road. The night was very cold. His donkey had strayed away, and the poor old man was so bewildered that he could not find the donkey. Suddenly there was a flash of lightning and the man saw a large beast lying by the wall of the old woman’s hut.
Mistaking the beast for his donkey, the Chattee-maker rushed at the Tiger, seized it by the ear and commenced beating and abusing it with all his might.
“You wretched old donkey, you, to run away and leave me to look for you in this frightful storm! Get up and carry me home, or I’ll break every bone in your lazy old body!” He kicked the poor beast and pounded him.
The Tiger did not know what to make of it. He was very much frightened. “This must be ‘Perpetual Dripping,’” he said to himself. “No wonder the old woman said she was more afraid of it than of a tiger, or an elephant, or a lion, for it gives so many hard blows.”
As soon as the poor Tiger got up, the Chattee-maker climbed on his back and forced the Tiger to carry him home. All the way he kicked and beat the Tiger, thinking it was his donkey. When he got home, the Chattee-maker tied the Tiger securely to the hitching-post in front of the house, and went in to bed.
Next morning, when the Chattee-maker’s wife got up and looked out of her window, she beheld a great Tiger tied up in front of the house. The Tiger looked as frightened and as meek as a lamb.
“Husband! Husband!” she called, loudly. “Wake up! Wake up! Do you know what animal you brought home, last night?”
“Look, look!” they cried in terror.... “Here comes a man of gigantic stature, riding on a mighty horse.”
“Why, yes—my donkey, to be sure,” he answered. “The donkey ran away from me, but I caught him just the same, and made him bring me home.”
“Come and see for yourself,” said his wife.
Here was the great Tiger tied to the post.
“Where is my donkey, then?” asked the man. “I rode him home, last night, and tied him to the post, myself.”
“No, you must have ridden on that Tiger,” said his wife.
Soon the news spread all over the village that the Chattee-maker had captured a great Tiger and had ridden home on his back, and that he had tied him to his hitching-post and trained him to be as meek as a lamb.
The report was even carried to the Rajah of the country, and he came, with his lords and attendants, to see this astonishing sight.
Now the Tiger was a very large one and had long been the terror of the whole country, and the Rajah was so pleased to have this terrible Tiger captured that he conferred all possible honor on the valiant Chattee-maker.
“You are a very brave man, my friend,” said the Rajah. “I will give you a new house and lands. You shall be a lord in my court and you shall be commander of a thousand horsemen.”
So the Chattee-maker gave up making pots and clay earthenware and he and his wife lived in the beautiful house given him by the Rajah, and they wore gorgeous raiment. And the Chattee-maker did, indeed, look like a lord of the court.
Wherever he went, people pointed him out and said, “There is the brave man who captured a hungry tiger and rode on his back.”
Now, not long after this, a Rajah from a neighboring country sent word that he was bringing a mighty army to wage war. When the people heard this, they were terrified; all the generals came to the Rajah and said, “We are not prepared for war! Who will be the Chief Commander?”
Then some of the people said, “You have just given the Chattee-maker command over a thousand horsemen. He is a brave and fearless man. Why do you not put him in command of your army?”
“That is a very good idea,” answered the Rajah. “I will make him Commander-in-Chief.”
So he sent for the valiant Chattee-maker. Said he, “My generals are afraid to take command for they say we are not prepared for war, but I know that you are brave and fearless, and into your hands I will place all the power in my kingdom. You must put our enemies to flight.”
“It shall be as you command,” said the Chattee-maker. “But before I lead the whole army, let me go out alone and find out something about the strength of the enemy, and examine their position.”
The Rajah consented to this and the Chattee-maker went home to his wife. “Oh, wife, wife, what shall I do?” he asked, in fright. “They have made me their Commander-in-Chief! It is a very hard place for me to fill. I shall have to ride at the head of my troops, and you know that I was never on a horse in my life. So I have asked the Rajah to let me go out alone first. We shall get a very quiet pony and I shall ride out before anyone sees me.”
But, early the next day, before the Chattee-maker had time to start, the Rajah sent to him a very spirited horse, all saddled and bridled, and requested that the Chattee-maker ride that horse out to meet the enemy.
The poor Chattee-maker was terrified, for the horse was a powerful animal that pranced about, champing his bit and rolling his eyes, and the Chattee-maker was sure that, if he ever mounted upon that horse, he would soon fall off. But he did not dare to refuse the horse sent by the Rajah. So he bowed politely to the messengers and said, “Tell the Rajah I am deeply grateful for his gift.”
But, when the messengers were gone, he said to his wife, “Oh, oh, what am I to do? How can I ever ride on this terrible horse?”
“Now, do not be so frightened,” said his wife. “I will tie you on the back of the big horse and, if you start at night, no one will see that you are tied on.”
That night his wife held the horse while her husband jumped and jumped, trying to get up into the saddle. At last, after many trials, he succeeded in getting on. He was so frightened that he called loudly to his wife, “Oh, wife, wife, hurry, hurry!”
So she wound him all about with strong ropes and tied his feet firmly in the stirrups, and she put one rope around his neck and shoulders and around his waist, and fastened them to the saddle.
“Wife, wife,” he screamed. “You forgot to tie my hands.”
“Oh, no,” she said. “It is better for you to have your hands free. Hold on by the mane!”
So he caught the horse’s mane as firmly as he could, and away and away went the horse, carrying the poor frightened Chattee-maker. Faster and faster, over hedges and rivers and ditches and plains, he galloped, and galloped, until they came in sight of the enemy’s camp.
When the poor old Chattee-maker saw the horse carrying him towards the enemy, he was more frightened than ever.
He made one last effort to save himself and, as the horse darted under a young banyan tree, he stretched out his hand and seized the tree with all his might, hoping that his ropes would break and the tree would pull him down from the horse. But the banyan tree was in very loose soil and the horse was plunging at such terrific speed that, when the Chattee-maker caught hold, up came the tree by the roots, and the Chattee-maker rode on, waving the banyan tree over his head and shrieking and screaming in his fright.
Now the soldiers of the enemy had heard that an army was coming out against them and when they saw the Chattee-maker they were sure he was the leader of a vanguard.
“Look! Look!” they cried in terror. “Here comes a man of gigantic stature, riding on a mighty horse! He rides at full speed over rocks and ditches and tears up the trees in his rage!”
And running to the Rajah, they cried out in fright, “Here comes the whole force of the enemy! Men of gigantic stature, mounted on mighty horses. As they gallop along, they tear up trees in their rage and brandish them about as war-clubs. We can fight men, but we cannot fight monsters!”
Now, the Chattee-maker was coming nearer and nearer and shrieking louder and louder in his terror, as he waved the tree wildly about his head and the horse plunged on.
So others rushed to the Rajah and said, “It is true! It is true! See, they are coming! Look, look! Let us fly for our lives!”
Then the whole panic-stricken crowd fled from their camp, for no one wanted to meet such an enemy. But, first, they made the Rajah write a note, begging for peace.
Soon after the enemy had fled from the camp, the horse carrying the Chattee-maker came galloping into it. As he reached the camp, the ropes broke and the Chattee-maker tumbled to the ground and the horse, worn out from his long run, stood still.
The Chattee-maker looked all about and was greatly surprised to find the whole camp deserted. In the tent of the Rajah he found the letter, and took it back home with him. He was afraid to mount the horse again, so he walked all the long journey back, leading his tired horse.
He did not get home until late that night, but his wife saw him coming, and ran out to meet him.
“Why, what is the matter, my good man?” she asked.
“Oh, wife! wife!” he groaned, “I am so weary! Every bone in my body aches. I have ridden all over the world since last night and I have had to walk all the way back today, and I am so tired and hungry. When I came to the camp of the enemy, no one was there, but I found this letter.” Then he told his wife the whole story of his wild ride.
“We must send a messenger to the Rajah with this letter and tell him that you will come in the morning and report for yourself,” she said. “We must send the horse, also, for I know that you never want to ride him again.”
So his good wife sent the horse and the letter to the Rajah, with the message that her husband would surely come, in the early morning.
And the next day, when the people saw the Chattee-maker walking to the royal palace, they said, “Why, this man is as modest as he is brave. He went out all alone, and put our enemy to flight, and now he walks simply to the door of the Rajah as though he had no pride.”
The Rajah came to the palace door to greet the Chattee-maker and, when the Chattee-maker bowed down before the Rajah, the Rajah lifted him to his feet and gave him every honor.
“You have saved our lives and shall be set over all the kingdom,” said the Rajah. “You shall be next to me in authority, for you are as modest and as humble as you are brave.”
So the Chattee-maker was rewarded for all that he had done by having twice as much rank and wealth given him.
But the Chattee-maker never would ride on a horse. He had his own beautiful coach in which to ride and he was often carried about on a litter so that no one ever knew that he was not a bold and brave rider. Had he not ridden on a tiger and had he not routed an army by rushing at them and pulling up trees to frighten them away? Yes, indeed, the people were all very proud of the valiant Chattee-maker, and he lived very happily, all the rest of his life.
Volland Fairy Stories
AMERICAN INDIAN FAIRY TALES by W. J. Larned illustrated by John Rae DEENIE FOLKS and FRIENDS of THEIRS by Jo McMahon illustrated by John Gee FAIRY TALES from FRANCE by W. J. Larned illustrated by John Rae THE LADDER of RICKETY RUNGS by J. C. O’Donnell illustrated by Janet Laura Scott LITTLE PEACHLING by Georgene Faulkner illustrated by Frederick Richardson REYNARD THE FOX and OTHER FABLES by W. J. Larned illustrated by John Rae
