A Singalese king, or sovereign prince, as the term “rajah” implies, of devout conduct and character, became suddenly afflicted with a cutaneous disease, which covered him with a white scaly substance from head to foot, to so great a degree as almost to deprive him of human appearance: so very rapidly did the loathsome distemper extend its malignant influence over the rajah’s person, that sacrifices were resorted to by his people, in the hope of thereby appeasing the anger of the supposed author of the rajah’s sufferings, the Maha Yaka, or great demon.
The Kottah rajah (the image itself is now so styled) objected to assist in person at any such diabolical sacrifices, and however prejudiced his people were in the belief of their eventual efficacy, he himself preferred humbly to submit to the decrees of that superior power from whom alone the Maha Yaka could have derived dominion, if he really possessed any, over the destinies of mankind. At this period, the cocoa-nut tree was not known in the interior of Ceylon; and to this day its scarcity is remarked by every traveller who visits the interior of the late Kandyan territory.
The resigned, but suffering rajah, having, with all due humility, paid his accustomed devotions, and offered sweet-smelling flowers, according to the Budhoo religion,[103] and repeated the Budha-Sarana,[104] fell into a sound sleep, which lasted for several days. During his trance, he beheld a large expanse of water, which he tasted, and found it both salt and nauseous, although of a fine green[105] colour near, and blue in the distance; having on its margin immense groves of trees of a rare kind, such as he had never before seen; for, instead of branches in various directions, as other trees had in his country, a tuft of large leaves, as they then appeared to him to be, crowned the lofty summit of each individual tree, which, to an immense height, was totally divested of branches or foliage.—This tradition is believed by many eminent Tirinanses, or high priests, of Budhoo, who attach to it great antiquity.
The Kottah rajah, having awakened from his trance, felt his mind deeply impressed with the unusual nature of his dreams; but, in the natural excitement which the hope of his recovery encouraged, he renewed his oblations and prayers, believing that a display of omnipotent mercy would be the result. A Cobra de capello, the Naya of the Singalese, (Coluber naja, Linn.) and sacred snake of the Budhists, shortly afterwards approached, and, having expanded its spectacle-marked hood, raised its head a cubit above the ground, and observed the rajah steadily for some moments; after which, the animal, extending its blue forked tongue, and thrice bowing its head, lapped water from the leaf in which it had been reserved for the rajah’s particular use. Having thrice repeated the draught, the animal, still keeping its eyes fixed on the rajah, gradually retired to the jungle. This was conviction itself of Budhoo’s[106] favour.
Again the prince felt his eyelids grow weary; but, in his then state of disease, he had determined to occupy no place of shelter save that which the shady Bogaha, (Ficus religiosa,) the tree under which he reposed, afforded him. No sooner had sleep a second time exerted its magic influence, than his former vision recurred, with the additional appearance of an aged man, whose face bore the appearance of the moon in all its splendour. It was Maha Sudona, the father of the god Budhoo,[107] who stood before the astounded rajah, and thus accosted him:—
“From ignorance of the sacredness of the ground over which the god’s favourite tree casts its honoured shade, thou once didst omit the usual respect due to it from all created beings. Its deeply-pointed leaf distinguishes it above all other trees as sacred to Budhoo; and, under another tree of the same heavenly character thou now liest a mass of sores and ulcers, which the impurity of the red water within the large and small rivers of thy body, has, at the great deity’s command, brought upon thee externally. But since the snake, the kind snake, the shelterer of the god Budhoo, when on earth, has thrice partaken of thy drink, thou wilt derive health and long life by obeying the commands which I now bear thee. In that direction (pointing towards the south) lies thy remedy. One hundred hours’ journey will bring thee to those trees, which thou shalt see in reality, and taste their fruits to thy benefit. But as on the top only it is produced, by fire it must be obtained. The inside, partly of transparent liquid, partly of innocent food, must be thy sole diet, till thrice the Great Moon (Maha Handah) has given and refused her light. Disease will, at the expiration of that time, leave thee; thou wilt be clean again; but forget not, with the restoration of thy health, (the Singalese language renders it, ‘the skin of thy flesh, renewed by the fountains of thy life, being made red again,’) sacrifices of sweet flowers and fruits, with much thanksgiving, to that great Brahma of all Brahmas,[108] to whom all other gods, and even demons, pay homage, through whose mercy and forgiveness of thy neglect and transgressions thy bodily vigour will have been restored, and the days of thy enjoyment in the splendour of the mighty and flaming chief ruler[109] of the moon prolonged.”
A sound, as of ten thousand tom-toms,[110] struck at once seemed to the delighted rajah a manifestation of the messenger’s authority. It reverberated on his ear for hours together, after he had awakened from his second trance; and, impressed with a belief that the invisible powers had thus intimated a disposition to take him under their especial protection, and that, consequently, it was his bounden duty to obey commands so mysteriously conveyed, the rajah, placing the palms of his hands across his forehead, and bending to the ground, prayed for strength to act in obedience to the Ossah Pollah Dewyo, the ruler and creator of all gods and demons, and of the flat world itself.
Having summoned his immediate followers from the various resting-places, which they had constructed with the branches and leaves of the neighbouring trees, by way of temporary shelter, the rajah repeated to them the prophetic words of the divine messenger; and, having gone through the ceremony of making a propitiatory offering under the Bogaha-tree, of fruits, Betel-leaves, (Piper-betel,) and flowers of sweet perfume, he, attended by his retinue, proceeded in a direct course through rivers and forests, and over mountains immense, to the southward, as directed by the Maha Sudona.
The one hundred hours’ journey having been miraculously performed without any perceptible fatigue, either to himself or attendants, the anxiously anticipated view of that boundless expanse of blue water, which, in his dream, had appeared to him so beautiful, yet nauseous to the taste, and on its margin immense groves of trees, with tufts of leaves, (for the first time plainly perceived to be large branches,) as his visions had foretold, gratified his astonished, but delighted sight. Beneath the branches, sheltered from the vertical sun, hung large clusters of fruit, much larger than he had ever seen in his own country of the interior, of green, yellow, and red[111] colours, and others apparently black.
There were no human beings on the coast; but wild beasts, such as leopards, bears, sloths, and elephants innumerable. To climb the cocoa-nut tree, (the promised source of health,) was then unknown, and considered beyond the power of mortal man; but, as fire had been pointed out as the means of obtaining its fruit, the rajah’s followers procured two dry sticks, which having prepared, by pointing the end of one, and making a small hole in the middle of the other, for the reception of the pointed stick, friction produced fire, which was immediately increased, by the application of dried leaves to the emitted flame.