STORIES OF THE LOWER CASTES
STORIES OF THE POTTERS
No. 187
The Three Yakās
In a spacious great city three Yakās were born. Well then, the three Yakās spoke together: “Let us three Yakās go to the school of the Chief of the Yakā forces (Yaksa Sēnādipotiyā),[1] to learn letters.”
After they learnt letters the three spoke together: “Let us go to learn the sciences.” The three having walked along the path came to the travellers’ shed at the place where there are again three paths. The three spoke together. One said, “I will learn the science of killing a man.” One said, “I will learn the science of causing [re-]birth.” The other said, “I will learn to do magic.” In the hand of one Yakā [was] the sword; in the hand of one Yakā, the betel-cutter; in the hand of one Yakā, the axe.
Those three Yakās said, “You go on that path; I will go on this path.” Then the three Yakās go on the three paths. Before they went they said, “When any matter of sickness has happened to a person out of us three, how shall we get to know?”
Then one said, “I will plant a lime tree”; one said, “I will plant a flower tree”; one said, “I will make a flower pool.”[2] Well then, saying that should any accident occur to the Yakās the fruit will fall from the lime tree, or the flowers on the flower tree will fade, or the water of the pool will become muddy,[3] they went on the three paths.
Having gone on the three paths, when they came to three countries the three summoned three wives, ordinary women (nikan gāēnu). The Yakās taking human appearance, putting on good clothes like men, putting aside the teeth of Yakās (Yak-dat), taking good teeth, the women do not know that the three are Yakās.
After a long time, a man died in the village of the Yakā who planted the lime tree. That Yakā having taken the corpse after they buried it, and having drawn it to the surface, ate it.[4]
An old thief saw it. Having seen it, on seeing that woman he told her, “In this manner, the man who is in your house in this way eats human flesh,” having seen that woman, he told that. Owing to it, that woman that day got to know that said Yakā is a Yakā. After that she prepared to kill him.
The Yakā’s wife asked, “Where is your life?”
The Yakā said, “In my stomach.”
“No, you are telling lies.”
The Yakā said, “In my breast.”
“That also is false,” she says. “Tell me the truth.”
The Yakā said, “In my neck.”
“It is not there, also,” she says.
At last the Yakā said, “My life is in [the brightness of] my sword.”
Afterwards, placing the sword near his head, he went to sleep. Then this woman having gone, collected a bon-fire (gini goḍak), and quietly taking the sword put it into the hearth. Well then, the woman having come back, when she looked that Yakā was dead.
That eldest Yakā having arisen, when he looked [saw that] the flowers and fruit had all fallen from the lime tree. The Yakā said, “Anē! Bola, there will have been some accident; I must go to look.” Well then, the eldest Yakā having tied up the lime fruits, and come to that Yakā’s country, taking them, when he looked his younger brother was dead. When he sought for that sword it was not [there].
Afterwards, when he looked at the fire heap that sword was in the heap. Well then, taking the limes and having cut them, when he was thoroughly polishing it with the limes that dead Yakā revived (lit., was born). Then the elder Yakā, calling the revived Yakā, came to his [own] house [with him].
A pestilence having stricken the second Yakā, one morning when those two looked the flowers on that planted tree had fallen. Well then, having said, “Appā! Bolan, some accident will have stricken our Yakā,” putting together those flowers also, they went away.
Having gone, and having offered the flowers to the Gods of that country, the disease was cured; and calling that Yakā also, they came to that eldest Yakā’s house.
Having come [there], that eldest Yakā said to one Yakā, “You do loading work, and having loaded cattle get your living.” To the other Yakā he said, “You trade and get your living. I will cultivate,” he said.
Well then, the three taking human appearance, all remained at the city where that eldest Yakā was. That Yakā who loaded sacks [with produce with which he went on trading journeys] was ruined by that very thing, and died.
Then [in the case of] the Yakā who traded [at a shop], an old thief stole all the goods [obtained] by his trading. Out of grief on that account that Yakā died.
That eldest Yakā, doing cultivation and having become abundantly wealthy, stayed at that very city, and abandoned the Yakā appearance.
Potter. North-western Province.
[1] In Cinq Cents Contes et Apologues (Chavannes), vol. iii, p. 115, the King of the demons is called Pāñcika. Professor Chavannes noted that in the Divyāvadāna, p. 447, he has the title Yaksha-sēnāpati, General of the Yakshas. [↑]
[2] A pool containing lotuses. [↑]
[3] In The Jātaka, No. 506 (vol. iv, p. 283), the life-index of a serpent King was a pool, which would become turbid if he were struck or hurt, and blood-red if a snake-charmer seized him. In Folklore of the Santal Parganas (Rev. Dr. Bodding), p. 321, the life-index of a cow was some of her milk, which would become red like blood if she were killed by a tigress, as she expected. [↑]
[4] The narrator explained that this was in early times. He stated that they do not eat human flesh now; it is done only by Rākshasas. [↑]
No. 188
The Time of Scholars
In a certain country there is, it is said, a [man called] Dikpiṭiyā. A [married woman called] Diktalādī is rearing an [adopted] child. While it was [there] no long time, a [female] child was born; to Diktalādī a child was born. On the boy, the [adopted] boy she reared, she put a cloth for ploughing (that is, he grew old enough to plough). After the [female] child grew great and big, [the parents] gave her [in marriage] to that youth whom Diktalādī reared, [and they went to live in another village].
The boy she reared, after no long time went by, seeking oil, honey, flour, and cooking a bag of cakes, and giving them to that woman [his wife, set off with her] in order to go to look at that mother-in-law and father-in-law.
At the time when the two are going together, having seen that much water is going in the river [which it was necessary to cross], both of them became much afraid in mind. Thereupon, when they are staying [there], these two persons, having seen that the one called Dikpiṭiyā was on the opposite bank fishing and fishing, said, “Anē! It is a great hindrance that has occurred to us. Anē! In our hand there is not a thing for us to eat, not a place to sit down at. Should you take us two [across] to that side, it will be charity”; and those two persons make obeisance to Dikpiṭiyā.
Afterwards Dikpiṭiyā, having left his bait creeper[1] (fishing-line), came swimming to this side. Having come, “Where are ye two going?” he asked.
“Anē! We are going to look at our mother-in-law and father-in-law.”
Dikpiṭiyā placed the bag of cakes on one shoulder, and placed the woman on the [other] shoulder. Afterwards he crossed, swimming, to that [far] side.
After having crossed to that side [he said to the woman], “What a man that man is! The scare-crow tied in the paddy field! We two are of one sort; let us two go [off together].”
Afterwards, unfastening the bag of cakes [they counted them, and he] having given [some] to the woman, the inferior ones, eating and eating the cakes both of them began to go away.
After that, [when her husband came across and claimed her], Dippiṭiyā having cried out, and dragged her, and obstructed her going with feet and hands, he said, “Having snatched away my wife canst thou strike blows? Come and go [with me]”; and they went for the trial [regarding their rival claims to be the woman’s husband].
Having gone near the King, [and laid a complaint regarding it], the King [finding that both men claimed her], says, “Imprison ye the three of them in three houses.”
Afterwards the King asks at the hand of Dippiṭiyā, “What is the name of thy mother?”
“Our mother’s name is Sarasayu-wirī.”[2]
“Secondly, how many is the number of the cakes?”
“Three less than three hundred.”
Having caused Diktalādī’s daughter to be brought, he asks, “What is thy mother’s name?”
“Kamalolī” (Love-desiring).
“How many is the number of the cakes?”
“Three less than three hundred.”
After that, [as both agreed regarding the number] he handed over the wife [to him]. Both of them, making and making obeisance, went away.
Potter. North-western Province.
With the exception of the ending, this is the sixth test case which was settled by the wise Mahōsadha, in The Jātaka, No. 546 (vol. vi, p. 163);[3] but the variations show that, like some other Sinhalese folk-tales, it is not taken over directly from the Jātaka story, which appears to be one of the latest in that collection.
There was a village, apparently of Vaeddās, called Dippiṭigama, in the North-western Province[4]; and “the house of the Dippiṭiyās,[5] at the village called Koṭikāpola” is mentioned in the story numbered 215 in this volume, related by a Tom-tom Beater. This latter tale apparently contains a large amount of fact, and ends “the persons who saw these [things said] they are in the form of a folk-tale.” Thus there is a possibility that this part of the Jātaka story is derived from a Sinhalese folk-tale of which the Potter’s story gives the modern version.
[1] Where bushes or reeds are in the water near the shore, fishing is usually done by means of a baited hook at the end of a short fishing line attached to the extremity of a number of canes tied end to end. These float on the surface of the water, and are gradually pushed forward until the bait is in an open space in the water. [↑]
[2] “Soft are the six seasons of woman”; but the text is so full of mistakes that it is possible this may be intended for Sarasāyu-wirī, “the bee’s life is delicate,” or Sarāsayu-wirī, “soft are the six seasons of Love.” [↑]
[3] See also A. von Schiefner’s Tibetan Tales (Ralston), p. 134, in which the names are omitted. [↑]
[4] See Ancient Ceylon, p. 100. [↑]
STORIES OF THE WASHERMEN
No. 189
The Thief called Haranṭikā
In a certain city there was a thief, Haranṭikayā by name. The thief, together with his father, goes to commit robberies. For a long period, at the time when they are committing robberies at that city not a single person could seize that thief.
One day, the father and son having spoken about breaking in to the box of valuables at the foot of the bed[1] of the King of the city, entered the King’s palace. Having entered it, and gone by a window into the kitchen, and eaten the royal food that was cooked for the King, he went into the very room and broke into the box at the foot of the bed; and taking the goods and having come back into the kitchen, he put [outside] the articles he had brought. It was the father who went into the house, and put out the articles. The son stayed near the window, on the outer side.
Well then, the father tries (lit., makes) to come out by the window; [because of the quantity of food he has eaten] he cannot come.[2] Thereafter, the father, having put out his neck through the window, told the son to drag him out.
Well then, the son tried hard to drag him out. Because he also could not do it the son cut off the father’s head. Then the thief called Haranṭikā (the son), taking the head and the articles stolen out of the box at the foot of the bed, came home.
Thereafter, having come home he says at the hand of his mother, “Mother, our father was unable to come [out by the window at which he entered the kitchen at the palace]. He endeavoured as much as possible. Because father was unable to come, cutting father’s neck with the knife that was in my hand, [I brought away his head and] I returned here. The theft will come to light. Now then, to-morrow, during the day, having said, ‘Whose is the corpse?’ they will bring it along these four streets. Don’t you either cry out, or lament, or tell about us.” These matters he told his mother.
On the morning of the following day, fixing a noose to the two feet of the dead body, the King ordered the Ministers to take it, and walk [dragging the corpse] along the four streets. Next, he gave orders to the city that everyone, not going anywhere, must remain to observe whose was this dead body. Thereafter, when the Ministers were going along dragging the corpse, the men [and women of the city] remained looking on.
At the time when the wife of the dead man, [on seeing the body] is crying out, “O my husband!” the thief called Haranṭikā, having been in a Murun̆gā tree [in front of the doorway], broke a Murun̆gā branch, and fell to the ground.
Well then, these city people having said, “Who is this who cried out?” at the time when they hear it a part say, “A boy fell from a tree; on that account she is crying out.” Well then, that she cried out on account of this corpse nobody knows. That thief called Haranṭikā was saved by that.
It is owing to that, indeed, they say, “The stratagems which the thief has, even the God Gaṇēśa (the God of Wisdom) does not possess.”