Just as the girl was about to take her usual bath, she looked up and saw him.
In a moment she felt that he had suspected her of some evil. “Father,” cried she, “why do you look with an evil eye on your child? Do you not believe that the Gods have helped her?”
But before her father could reply, she sank down to the bottom of the well with the water and never rose again, for the outraged Gods took her to themselves; and, in token of their displeasure, the well was cleft from top to bottom, and hillocks formed on either side. From this spot flows a tiny stream, which, if you follow it, becomes a mighty river.
THE GOLDEN SCORPIONS
There once lived in a certain village a poor man who went out daily to beg, carrying in his hand a small vessel made from a gourd, such as the Jogis, or holy Fakirs, in India use.
In it he carried home his scanty meal of flour each evening.
One day he placed the gourd, which was empty at the time, upon the ground, and went to some little distance to drink water.
On his return he was amazed to find it full of scorpions.
Seizing it on one side, he carefully knocked it against a stone until the venomous things dropped off.