Folk-Tales of the Khasis

by Mrs. Rafy

Part III

The boy was named U Babam Doh, because of the meat which his mother had eaten. The two lived very happily in this village, the mother leading an industrious life, for she did not wish to depend for their living on the gold gained at the expense of her son’s tears. Neither did she desire it to become known that he possessed the magic power to convert his tears into gold, so she instructed her boy never to weep in public, and on every occasion when he might be driven to cry, she told him to go into some secret place where nobody could witness the golden tears. And so anxious was she not to give him any avoidable cause of grief that she concealed from him the story of her past sufferings and his father’s tragic fate, and hid from sight the brass lota and the clothes she had found by the dragon’s pool.

U Babam Doh grew up a fine and comely boy, in whom his mother’s heart delighted; he was strong of body and quick of intellect, so that none of the village lads could compete with him, either at work or at play. Among his companions was the Heir-apparent of the State, a young lad about his own age, who, by reason of the many accomplishments of U Babam Doh, showed him great friendliness and favour, so that the widow’s son was frequently invited to the Siem’s house, and was privileged to attend many of the great State functions and Durbars. Thus he unconsciously became familiar with State questions, and gleaned much knowledge and wisdom, so that he grew up enlightened and discreet beyond many of his comrades.

One day, during the Duali (Hindu gambling festival), his friend the Heir-apparent teased him to join in the game. He had no desire to indulge in any games of luck, and he was ignorant of the rules of all such games, but he did not like to offend his friend by refusing, so he went with him to the gambling field and joined in the play.

At first the Heir-apparent, who was initiating him into the game, played for very small stakes, but, to their mutual surprise, U Babam Doh the novice won at every turn. The Heir-apparent was annoyed at the continual success of his friend, for he himself had been looked upon as the champion player at previous festivals, so, thinking to daunt the spirit of U Babam Doh, he challenged him to risk higher stakes, which, contrary to his expectation, were accepted, and again U Babam Doh won. They played on until at last the Heir-apparent had staked and lost all his possessions; he grew so reckless that in the end he staked his own right of succession to the throne, and lost.

There was great excitement and commotion when it became known that the Heir-apparent had gambled away his birthright; people left their own games, and from all parts of the field they flocked to where the two young men stood. When the Heir-apparent saw that the people were unanimous in blaming him for so recklessly throwing away what they considered his divine endowment, he tried to retrieve his character by abusing his opponent, taunting him with being ignorant of his father’s name, and calling him the unlawful son of U Yak Jakor, saying that it was by the dragon’s aid he had won all the bets on that day.

This was a cruel and terrible charge from which U Babam Doh recoiled, but as his mother had never revealed to him her history, he was helpless in face of the taunt, to which he had no answer to give. He stood mute and stunned before the crowd, who, when they saw his dismay, at once concluded that the Heir-apparent’s charges were well founded. They dragged U Babam Doh before the Durbar, and accused him of witchcraft before the Siem and his ministers.

U Babam Doh, being naturally courageous and resourceful, soon recovered himself, and having absolute confidence in the justice of his cause, he appealed to the Durbar for time to procure proofs, saying that he would give himself up to die at their hands if he failed to substantiate his claim to honour and respectability, and stating that this charge was fabricated by his opponent, who hoped to recover by perfidy what he had lost in fair game.

The Durbar were perplexed by these conflicting charges, but they were impressed by the temperate and respectful demeanour of the young stranger, in comparison with the flustered and rash conduct of the descendant of their own royal house, so they granted a number of days during which U Babam Doh must procure proofs of his innocence or die.

U Babam Doh left the place of Durbar, burning with shame and humiliation for the stigma that had been cast upon him and upon his mother, and came sadly to his house. When his mother saw his livid face she knew that some great calamity had befallen him, and pressed him to tell her about it, but the only reply he would give to all her questions was, “Give me a mat, oh my mother, give me a mat to lie upon”; whereupon she spread a mat for him on the floor, on which he threw himself down in an abandonment of grief. He wept like one that could never be consoled, and as he wept his tears turned into gold, till the mat on which he lay was covered with lumps of gold, such as could not be counted for their number.

Although the mother saw this inexhaustible wealth at her feet she could feel no pleasure in it, owing to her anxiety for her son, who seemed likely to die of grief. After a time she succeeded in calming him, and gradually she drew forth from him the tale of the attack made upon their honour by the Heir-apparent. She began to upbraid herself bitterly for withholding from him their history, and hastily she went to fetch her husband’s clothes and the brass lota which she had concealed for so many years, and, bringing them to her son, she told him all that had happened to her and to his father, from the day on which the foreign mendicant visited their hut to the time of their coming to their present abode.

U Babam Doh listened with wonder and pity for the mother who had so bravely borne so many sorrows, concealing all her woes in order to spare him all unnecessary pangs. When the mother finished her tale U Babam Doh stood up and shook himself, and, taking his bow and his quiver, he said, “I must go and kill U Yak Jakor, and so avenge my father’s death, and vindicate my mother’s honour.”

The mother’s heart was heavy when she saw him depart, but she knew that the day had arrived for him to fulfil his duty to his father’s memory, so she made no attempt to detain him, but gave him minute directions about the locality, and the path leading to the dragon’s haunts.