THE DONKEY-MAN AND THE PRECIOUS STONE.
The sun had gone down one day in the Mahomedan village of “Huzro,” in the Hazara district, and it had become too late to work and too early for sleep, when the young men and others in the village congregated together to while away the time by narrating tales of the past.
Though really a Mahomedan village, there were several Hindu shops there, and some of the Hindus joined the company.
It was not long before one of the number was encouraged to tell a tale, and he began by saying “Yek vella: Once upon a time,” and then he stopped; then there was a general laugh, and he made bold to begin again, and then said:
Many years ago there was a Donkey-man, a poor man, who used to carry grain from place to place somewhere in the Punjab. One day as he was crossing a small river he picked up a stone of a reddish colour, and as it looked pretty and out of the common he thought he would keep it; and so to preserve it he tied it on to the neck of his best donkey, and there it hung as a sort of ornament. He did not know it was a gem, you see, but only thought it was a nice-looking stone, and that he had never seen one like it before.
As he journeyed on with his donkeys he had to cross the “Chenâb” river, and went down to the ferry, where he got into conversation with the Ferryman while they were all waiting for sufficient passengers and goods to cross the stream. Looking at the donkeys the Ferryman came at last to the donkey with the ornament on his neck, and he said to the grain-carrier, “Where did you find this pretty stone?” He told him that he was crossing the bed of a little river and saw it. The Ferryman looked at it again, but he did not know that it was a precious stone, yet he wanted it to decorate one of his oars; so he said to the Donkey-man, “You do not seem to care much for the stone; give it to me, and I will take you and your donkeys across for nothing.” So the Donkey-man agreed, and the Ferryman tied it on to his oar, and kept looking at it as he went on with his work, singing his usual song, “Chiko bhâyo, Chiko bhâyo, Chik!” and beating time with his feet.
Some days after this a Jeweller, or “Johari,” was crossing by the ferry, and his eye at once caught sight of the stone on the Ferryman’s oar, and taking a look at it (for the Ferryman was rather proud to exhibit it), he in a moment became convinced that it was a ruby of a very large and unusual size, and he made up his mind that before he left the ferry he would get it into his possession in some way or another. He was, in fact, quite excited about it, and feared that at any moment it might drop into the water and be lost; but he was a cunning man and did not show his feelings, but said quietly to the Ferryman, “That is a very pretty sort of a stone you have on your oar; are you not afraid to lose it? Will you sell it to me?” Now, the Ferryman was not quite sure that he was a jeweller, or he might have been on his guard, but thought him to be only an ordinary traveller, and he too was almost as ignorant as the Donkey-man. The Jeweller said to him, “You might turn it into rupees!” “Well, some day I shall, perhaps, when I want money,” said the Ferryman, “but it is not worth very much, and I got it from an old Donkey-man for taking him across the stream one day.” When they got to the opposite shore the Jeweller said before leaving, “I will give you five rupees for that stone.” “No!” said the Ferryman, “I don’t want money now,” “But,” said the Jeweller, “If I give you ten rupees? and I am not coming this way again, you had better take it.” To this the Ferryman agreed, and the Jeweller obtained possession of this precious and valuable ruby for so small a sum as ten rupees, and he went away very rejoiced at his bargain.
When the Jeweller got home he handled it over and over again and felt sure that he had got a great prize; so he folded it in several rags, folds of rag, as the custom of lapidaries, or jewellers is, as you know, and put it very carefully by in a little box where he kept his best jewels.
It happened a year or two after this that the Rajah of the country not far from where the Jeweller lived, wanted some precious stones for a new Chair of State, or “Takht,” and he sent his trusted messengers to all the jewellers round about the neighbourhood to make enquiries for gems, and especially for rubies.
The messengers came to the Jeweller who had the stone I have been telling you about, and they asked him whether he had any fine stones to sell. At first the Jeweller said, “No, my friends,” for he feared that the Rajah might take his jewels by force; but when they told him not to be afraid, for the Rajah was very rich but was in need of precious stones for his Chair of State, the Jeweller went to his little box, and bringing to them the stone that he had set such value upon, he proceeded to untie and unwind the soiled rags one by one, in the presence of the messengers.
When he had untied the last rag, what was his grief and agony of soul to find that the precious ruby was in two distinct pieces!
He gazed in amazement for a little, when suddenly, in the hearing of them all, a voice came from the broken ruby, saying, “Now, behold! I have on purpose made myself of no value or service to you! When I was on the donkey’s neck I was in the hands and charge of one who knew not my real value; when, again, I was on the Ferryman’s oar, he was just as ignorant of his treasure; when I came into your hands, who knew well my worth, you estimated my price at five to ten rupees only! Learn, therefore, not to undervalue what is good for a mean and selfish object; nor to disparage your best friend, or you will live to rue the day, and repent as bitterly as you now do and will do, for the remainder of your life.”