Folklore of the Santal Parganas

by Cecil Henry Bompas

(17)—The Wonderful Cowherd.

Once upon a time there was a Rājā who had seven daughters. The seven princesses used to bathe daily in a tank and when they bathed they used to put the scrapings from their bodies in a hole in the ground. From this hole there grew a tree, and the eldest princess announced that she would marry the man who could tell her what had caused the tree to grow; many suitors came and made guesses but none divined the truth; heir father was anxious that she should be married, and insisted on every one in the kingdom being questioned. At last a miserable, poverty stricken and sickly cowherd was asked; he had always grazed his cattle on the banks of the tank and had often seen the princesses bathing so he knew from what the tree had spring. The princess being bound by her oath had to marry the miserable cowherd and go and live with him in his hut.

All day long the cowherd used to be groaning in sickness and misery; but at night he used to come out of his skin and appear as a beautiful and shining man; in this form he used to go and play and dance in the moonlight in the court yard of the Rājā’s palace. One night the princess’s maid-servant saw her master return and creep into his ugly skin; she told her mistress who resolved to keep watch the next night; when she saw her husband assume his shining form and go out of the house leaving his ugly skin lying on the ground, she took the skin and burnt it in the fire. Immediately her husband came rushing back declaring that he was suffering the agonies of burning; but the skin was burnt and the former cowherd retained his glorious and shining appearance; and on the application of oil the pain of the burning ceased. The princess then began to live with pleasure in the company of so glorious a husband, who however only went out of the house at night as his body was too bright for ordinary eyes to look upon.

It began however to be whispered about among the neighbours that a shining being was to be seen at the princess’s house and the rumour eventually reached the ears of the Rājā. The Rājā sent a messenger to see who the being was, but when the messenger saw the shining man he was blinded and driven out of his senses and returned to the Rājā in a state of madness. Two or three other messengers successively met the same fate. At length the Rājā resolved to go himself; when he saw the shining form of his son-in-law he fell down in a faint; the princess’s husband ran and lifted up the Rājā in his arms and revived him. After this the former cowherd became only bearably bright, and being recognized as the heir to the kingdom went to live with his wife in the Rājā palace.

(18)—The Strong Prince.

There was once a king who, though he had two wives, had no son. He was very anxious to have a son and heir and went away into the midst of the hills and jungles and there began a course of worship and sacrifices. His prayers were heard and while he was away it was found that both his wives were pregnant. In due time the senior Rānī gave birth to a son and sent a Brāhman to the king with the welcome news. The Brāhman was a very holy man and he had to pray and bathe so often that he made very slow progress on his journey. A day or two later the younger Rānī also gave birth to a son and she sent a low caste Ghāsi to give the news to the Rājā. The Ghāsi travelled straight ahead and reached the Rājā some time before the holy Brāhman. On hearing the news that the younger Rānī had given birth to a son the Rājā had at once declared that this boy should be his heir. He was therefore much put out when the Brāhman arrived with the news that the senior Rānī had given birth to a son first.

The Rājā returned home and entering the palace saw the senior Rānī sleeping with her babe beside her. The boy had sore eyes and the Rājā, declaring that the child bore no resemblance to himself said that it was not his son and that the Rānī had been unfaithful to him.

The Rānī indignantly denied the accusation and said that if the two brothers fought her son would prove his parentage. Accordingly the two boys were set to wrestle with each other. The struggle was an even one. As they swayed to and fro it happened that the elder boy caught hold of the Rājā and pulled him to the ground. This incensed the Rājā more than ever and he ordered the senior Rānī to leave the kingdom with her child. On the road by which they had to pass the Rājā stationed a mast elephant in order that they might be killed, but when in due course the elephant attacked them the boy caught hold of it and threw it to a distance of four kos. After this feat the prince and his mother journeyed to another kingdom. There they took up their quarters near the ground where the Rājā’s palwāns wrestled. The prince went to wrestle with them and easily overcame the most renowned palwāns. In many ways he showed his strength. One day he went to a mahājan’s shop and the Mahājan instead of serving him promptly kept him waiting. In indignation the boy took up the entire building and threw it to a distance; hearing of these feats the Rājā of the country sent for him and took him into his service; but here also he caused trouble. He insisted on being treated with deference. Going up to the highest officials he would tell them not to twist their moustaches at him, and knock them down. On the throne in the palace when the Rājā was absent a pair of the Rājā’s shoes was placed and every one who passed by had to salaam to these. This our hero flatly refused to do. In fact he became such a nuisance that he was promised that he would be given his pay regularly if he would only stay away from the palace. After this he spent his days in idleness and by night he used to go to the shore and disport himself in the sea.