“His wife met him close to his dwelling, with brandy for him to drink, and said, ‘Now, indeed, thou art become a mighty man.’ Thereupon they went into the house, and when they had laid themselves down to sleep, the wife said to him, ‘Where hast thou found so much flesh and so much butter?’ Then her husband related to her circumstantially the whole affair, and she answered him saying, ‘Verily, thou art a stupid ass. To-morrow I will go with a letter to the Chan.’
“The wife accordingly wrote a letter, and in the letter were the following words:—‘Because it was known unto me that the lost wondrous stone retained some evil influence over the Chan, I have, for the obviating of that influence, desired of him the dog and the fox. What I may receive for my reward depends upon the pleasure of the Chan.’
“The Chan read the letter through, and sent costly presents to the magician. And the magician lived pleasantly and happily.
“Now in a neighbouring country there dwelt seven Chans, brethren. Once upon a time they betook themselves, for pastime, to an extensive forest, and there they discovered a beauteous maiden with a buffalo, and they asked, ‘What are you two doing here? Whence come you?’ The maiden answered, ‘I come from an eastern country, and am the daughter of a Chan. This buffalo accompanies me.’ At these words these others replied, ‘We are the seven brethren of a Chan, and have no wife. Wilt thou be our wife?’[1] The maiden answered, ‘So be it.’ But the maiden and the buffalo were two Mangusch (a species of evil spirit like the Schumnu), and were seeking out men whom they might devour. The male Mangusch was a buffalo, and the female, she who became wife to the brethren.
[1] It is in accordance with the customs of Thibet for a woman of that country to have several husbands.
“After the Mangusch had slain, yearly, one of the brethren of the Chan, there was only one remaining. And because he was suffering from a grievous sickness, the ministers consulted together and said, ‘For the sickness of the other Chans we have tried all means of cure, and yet have found no help, neither do we in this case know what to advise. But the magician with the swine’s head dwells only two mountains off from us, and he is held in great estimation; let us, without further delay, send for him to our assistance.’
“Upon this four mounted messengers were despatched for the magician, and when they arrived at his dwelling, they made known to him the object of their mission. ‘I will,’ said the magician, ‘consider of this matter in the course of the night, and will tell you in the morning what is to be done.’
“During the night he related to his wife what was required of him, and his wife said, ‘You are looked upon, up to this time, as a magician of extraordinary skill; but from this time there is an end to your reputation. However, it cannot be helped, so go you must.’
“On the following morning the magician said to the messengers, ‘During the night-time I have pondered upon this matter, and a good omen has presented itself to me in a dream. Let me not tarry any longer but ride forth to-day.’ The magician, thereupon, equipped himself in a large cloak, bound his hair together on the crown of his head, carried in his left hand the rosary, and in his right the swine’s head, enveloped in the cloths of five colours.
“When in this guise he presented himself before the dwelling-place of the Chan, the two Mangusch were sorely frightened, and thought to themselves, ‘This man has quite the appearance, quite the countenance, of a man of learning.’ Then the magician, first placing a baling on the pillow of the bed, lifted up the swine’s head, and muttered certain magic words.