Bâmun deâru bînî sâkor nî khorâng. The Brahmin and his Servant.
Sâse Bâmun dangman, ârù bî­bâ sâkor sâse dangman. Sân-se sâne zang Bâmun nî bîhau-bikhunzù-nî nåiau thâng-nù-lâgi thâlit gur gâkhir sorai lânanai sâkhor-khô bân hùnânai, bîkhô khithânaise “Nang be thâlit-fùr­khô dâ zâ. Zâbâ ânghâ khîthù fâtse bù megon dang.” Erùi hannânai thângùi thânaise. Phâre unau boi sâkhorhâ mikhâm ukhui-bâ, thâlit-khô lânânai, thaise thaise bînù un-phât-si khithînânai, be­baidînù boibo-khô-bù zâ-thro-lâng-naise. Phâre unau bîsur dâpseau zirai-hùiba, Bâmun bîbânkhô nueâkhâi, sâkhor-nî sigâng-au sùngnaise “Bibânâ mâ zâkhù?” Obâ sâkhorâ bung­naise, âng dùkhùi-nù nangnù khithînânai bî thâlit-fùrkhô zâbai. Ârù dâ nang mânù sùng-dang?” Bebaidînù Bâmunâ bolo[20] hâe­khai srî srî thânaise. Phâre besùr beaunù khâm song-zâ-nù-lâgi zothon khâmnaise, ârù beaunù nâ khâwai mâ-ne-sù mandangman. Bînî sâkhornù mâse bùa hùnânai, gâsenù Bâmunâ lânaise. Phâre zeblâ khâm man-naise, sâne-bù zânù lâgi zodangman. Ereaunù sâkhorâ sùngnaise “Bâmun gohain, nâ khâwâiâ mâse bùâ daugâiù, nâ dùlù dùlù daugâiù?” Beaunù Bâmunâ bungnaise “Dùlù dùlù daugâiù.” Obâ bî bînî nâ mâsekhô bînî khâm-au khubui-hoṭ-detnaise “Manâthù be hâtsing daugânù hâiâ, nang-ni zang dùlùse zâthang.” Beaubù gaigai-nî khorâng-zâng-nù zennâ­nai bîkhô mungbâ bung-nù hâiâ khùise. Unau khâmkhô sâkhorâ hâtsing manzânaise. There was once a Brahmin who had a servant. And one day when they were going to the house of the Brahmin’s mother-in-law, the Brahmin gave his servant a bunch of plantains and other things to carry, and said to him “Now, mind you don’t eat those plantains, for I can see just as well behind as I can in front.” And, so saying, he marched ahead. And presently the servant, getting hungry, plucked one of the plantains from the bunch, and, holding it out to his master’s back, ate it. And this he did again and again till all the plantains were gone. And when the Brahmin presently asked what had become of the load, the servant said “You told me you could see behind as well as in front. So I showed you each plantain before I ate it. And you never said anything.” So the Brahmin went his ways speechless. Presently they stopped to cook their midday meal, and they had got with them a few khawai fish. But the Brahmin gave only one to his servant, and kept the rest himself. And when he was about to eat, the servant asked innocently: “Oh! Brahmin, do khawai fish swim about singly or in shoals?” To which the Brahmin said: “Why, in shoals, of course.” So the servant said “Then my fish had better go with yours.” And, so saying, he threw his fish on the Brahmin’s mess, which was defiled. So the Brahmin got no dinner, and the servant ate the whole.
Phâre bînifrai thângùi thângùi simli bîfâng dùlùse nunânai, Bâmun-khô sùngnaise “Bâmun gohain! be nunai bongfâng-frâ mâ bongfâng?” Bamunâ khi­thânaise “sirmolu.” Sâkhorâ bungnaise: “Sirmolu nunggâ. Bîkhô hirmolu hanù.” Phâ obâsù phong-bâ phong-bâ sônù lâgi khorâng khâlainaise. Phâre gur­khiâ dùlùse lùgù mannânai, bîsùrkhô sungbâ, “himulu” hannânai bîsùr bungnaise. Obânù sùngâ-hoâ-lâbâ Bâmunkhô phong-bâ sônaise. A little later they came across a number of simul trees. Seeing them, the servant asked his master “And what do they call these trees, master?” And the Brahmin (being an educated man) said “These are sirmolu.” But the servant said “Not so, not so! These are himulu,” and offered to bet five blows that it was so. And, meeting some cowherd boys, he asked them what the trees were. And when they said “himulu” he gave the Brahmin five blows without further question.
Ârù bebaidi thângùi thângùi burmâ dùlùse nunânai sâkhorâ Bâmunkhô sùngnaise “Bâmùn gohain, boi gângsù zâbai thânai zanthu-fùr mâ bungô?” Bâmunâ khithânaise “Bîfur sâg.” Sâ­khorâ bungnaise “Nunggâ, bîfùr sâgoli.” Beaubù bîbaidinù Bâmunâ phongbâ sô-zâ-naise. Ârù bînîfrai thângnânai dau-bå dùlùse nunânai sùngnaise” “Bâmun gohain, befùr mâ dau?” Bâmunâ bungnaise “Nang bîfùrkhô mithiâ? Bîfurkhô bog hanù.” Bî bungnaise “Mâ bog hanù? Nunggâ. Bîkhô boguli hanù.” Beaubù bebaidinù Bâmunâ phongbâ sôzânaise. Unau bî manse slok hannaise: Next they met a drove of goats. “And what may these be, Brahmin, these animals that are grazing?” And the Brahmin said “These be called châg.” But the servant cried “Not so, not so! These are châgali.” And the result, as before, was that the Brahmin was worsted and got five blows. And next they came across a flock of paddy-birds, which the Brahmin called “Bog,” but the servant “Boguli.” And again he was worsted and got his five blows. On which he consoled himself by reciting an Assamese saying, to the effect that it is ill arguing with a fool:
“Sâg sirmolu bog ba-káran Tinî pânch panra kîl sudâ akâran.” “Sâg sirmolu bog ba-káran Tinî pânch panra kîl sudâ akâran.”
Phâ bînîfrai thângnânai bihai-bikhunzù nî nå khâthî manbâ, sâkhorkhô thin-hoṭ-grù-nânai khithânaise “Nang thângnànai mâmâr khâm songnù thin; ma­nâthù ânghâ mikhâm ukhui-sù-dang.” Phâre bîbaidî-nù bî thângnânai, Bâmun-nî bikhunzù-nù hângsù bûthâtnânai sobai khâre zang mikhâm songnânai dinnù khithânaise, ârù bungnaise “Nangnî nangzâ-mâdùiâ megong-au gabâp nunggâbâ zâiâ.” Obâsù bî songnânai dinnaise. Phâre unau bizâmâdùiâ so-fai-bânù, mâmârùi khâm khutnânai hunaise. Bizâmâdùiâ ukhui-sù-nai-khai, khâm megong mungbo bâsiâlâbâ zânù gnâng zânaise. And when they were now come near the Brahmin’s mother-in-law’s house, and the Brahmin was become very hungry, he sent his servant on ahead to beg them to get supper ready. So the servant went on ahead and bade the Brahmin’s mother-in-law cook a duck and put lots of plantain ashes, which the Kacháris use for salt, well knowing that his master disliked its acrid taste. So the duck was cooked with plenty of alkali. And when the Brahmin arrived, his meal was set before him, and he was so hungry that he had to eat it whether he liked its savour or no.
Obâsù unau bebaidînù baidî baidî lâzi mannai zânaikhai, Bâmunâ bidânùlâgi sitti gângse lit-nânai sakhornî âkhâi-au hù­nânai nå-i-au hoṭnaise. Lâmâ såse thângbâ, beaunù litnù-grang sâse mânsùi lùgù mannânai, bînù sitti khithînaise. “Beau mâ litdang, âng-nù khithâ.” Obâsù, mânsùiâ sitti-khô nainânai, “Nangkhô dânnù lâgi Bâmun nî bidâ-khô thindang” erui bungbâ, bî sittî-khô phisînânai bungnaise “Afâ nang ângnù gubun sitti gângse litnânai hù.” Ârù be sitti-au erehai lit: “âdâ, nangnî fisâ-hingzau zang be sâkhorâ man-hùi-bâ-nù hâbâ khâmnânai hù. Âng benifrai thângnânai bîsùr-nî hâbâ nunù nânggâ.” Bebaidinù be sitti-khô lângnânai Bâmun-nî bidânù hùnaise. Khintù bî sitti-khô nunânai, monau dukhu man­sù-naise. Theobù, bigùi-nî khorâng gârnù hâekhai, fisâzù zang mâmâr hâbâ khâmnânai hùnângnaise. And so in various ways the Brahmin was put to shame by his servant. So he wrote a long letter to his brother, and, putting it in his servant’s hand, bade him deliver it. But he went a little way, until he met a man who could read and write, and he bade him tell him what was written in the letter. And the man read him the letter, which was to the effect that the brother was to kill the servant. On this, the servant tore up the letter and bade his friend write another one, saying “Dear brother, on receipt of this letter marry my servant to my niece without delay. I shall not be able to come to the wedding.” Taking this letter, the servant went to his master’s brother, who was much vexed, but dared not disobey. Accordingly, though reluctantly, he married the servant to his daughter.
Phâre sânse thânânai bî fainâ­nai bidâ khô sùngbâ gâsenù khorâng khnânânai, bî sâkhor khô dânnùlâgi srî srî upai khâmnaise. Be upaikhô sakhornî hingzauâ mithînânai, bekhô onnânai bînù khithânaise. Khithâbâ, hingzau zang hoṛau udunîau mosôfisâ mâse khâ-khrop-nânai futhunânai din­naise. Phâre Bâmunâ fisâzù zang udubai thâdang mon khâmnânai, srî srî thângnânai mosôfisâ-khô dânnaise. Phâre sân-sô-bâ mosâ­fisâkhô dânfnâng-nai nunânai mâ­mârùi bizâmadui sâkhorkhô gâr­hùinù lâgi thinnaise. Khintu bizâ­mâduiâ bîsùrnî bâriâu lângnânai, lânzâi dîhonnânai, fopnânai din­naise. Unau Bâmunâ mosâ bùthâtnai-nî nungge srî srî uddhâr zânu lâgi gaminî mânsùifùrkhô lingnânai phozù hùdangman. Phâre mânsuifùr zânu zobâ, sâkhorâ bâriau thângnânai mosô lânzai-khô bunânai bungnaise “Bamunâ mosobù bùthârâ-khùi phozù-bù hùâ khùi, hùi-sù!” Bebaidî bungbai-thâbâ, phozùnî mansùifrâ khnânânai, phozù zâiâ­khùise. Bebaidînù bîsùr uddhâr manâkhùise. Zapbâi! And, when the master came to see if his servant had been disposed of, and heard what had happened, he set about to kill him. But his niece got to know of the matter and told her husband, who got a calf, and, binding it hand and foot, put it by her in her bed. And in the night the Brahmin came, and thinking the calf was his niece’s husband sleeping by her side, killed it. And when he found out his mistake in the morning, and learned that he was guilty of cow-killing, he bade his niece’s husband go and bury the calf in all haste. And the servant dragged the calf into the garden and buried it with its tail sticking out of the ground. Meanwhile, the Brahmin set to work to get himself purged of the offence of cow-killing, and summoned the villagers to a feast without telling them why. And when they were all seated, the servant ran out into the garden and hauling at the calf’s tail, called out “The Brahmin didn’t kill a cow, Oh, no! and

Âbrâ nî khorâng. The Story of the Simpleton.
Sâse brai bùrùi dangman. Bi-sùr-hâ sâse gåthå dangman. Bî sânse brai-bùrùi-ni-au mosô bainu lâgi thâkâ bînaise. Khintu brai bùrùi gåthåkhô âzlâ nunànai thâkâ hùâman. Gåthåâ embrâ-brâ bînai-khai thâkâ zakhai-brùi hùnaise. Phâre gåthåâ mosô bainù lâgi thângùi thângùi man­thâm âlî-nî khâthi-au gahâm mosô mâse nunânai, be âlî-au thâkâ dinnânai mosôkhô khânânai lâbo­naise. Thângùi thângùi bîhâ khînù on-khâtnânai mosôkhô hâgra daise-au khânanai dinnânai khîhùibâ mosoâ bething khâtlâng­naise, Phâre be khînainîfrai fainânai mosôkhô nuekhai hâgrâ hâgrâ nâmaibainaise. There was once an aged couple, who had a foolish son, who one day begged them to give him money to buy an ox with. And, owing to his persistence, though they knew him to be simple, they gave him sixteen rupees and let him go. And, as he went, he found a fine ox grazing where three roads meet; and, putting his rupees down on the road, he bound the ox and drove it away. Presently, he stopped to rest, and while he was dozing, his ox ran away. So he began searching all through the jungle for the missing animal.
Ârù bî mùi zonthrâ mâse nunâ­nai, bîkhônù bînî mosô hannânai, hùsùbaie hùsùbaie unau mùiâ hâgrâ zethap-au gongâ nângnânai thâpthânânai thânaise. Obâsù bî mùikhô gådåiau dîdungzang khânânai nå hâ lâgi didung zorai zorai nå manfai-naise. Beaunù bîmâ bifâiâ sùngnaise “Nang mosô bainù thângnaia, hù­rù?” Obâsù bî bungnaise “Be dîdungkhô bùbânù, zangfùr mosô mangan.” Erù hannânai sâthâm zang dîdungau homnânai bù­naise. Bùî bùî mùiâ nå man-fai-bâ, boibù gî-khrongnaise. Phâre bîmâ bîfâiâ mùi-khô buthâtnânai mai salai-nù lâgi gâmînîmânsùinù bângan hùnaise. At last he found a fine stag, and thinking that to be his ox, chased it through the forest till by chance its horns got caught in a thicket. So he tied a rope round its horns, and to that tied another rope, and so on till he got home. And when his old mother asked him if he had bought his ox “Havn’t I, just,” said he, “just help me to pull and see!” On this, the three of them pulled at the rope, hand over hand, and presently the stag made his appearance kicking and struggling, at which they were mightily afraid. However, they killed the stag, and gave of its flesh to the neighbours to eat.
Beaunù gåthå âbrâiâ ai âfâiâ mosô buthâtnai zâbai hannânai mâlainî gâme gâme khithâbainaise. Khintu bîkhô âbrâ nunânai man­sùifrâ bînî khorâng khô fathiâ-khùise. On which the simpleton went about and told the villagers that they had eaten of cow’s flesh. But, fortunately, knowing he was a simpleton, no one believed a word he said.
Bînî unau, âjî-bù thâiù kâli-bù-thâiù, âbrâiâ bângai detbùnânai gâgainî hingzau namainù lâgi ârú brai bùrùi-nî-au thâkâ bînaise. Beaubù hùâ gârâ, thâkâ zokhai-brùi brainîfrai lânânai hingzau ânmainânai thângnaise. Thângùi thângùi gâmî mânsùi-nî dùi gathân-au zombai thânaise. Phâre unau sâse mazâng hingzausâ dùi lângnù fainai nunânai, dùi gâthan-au bi lângnai hingzausâkhô homnânai lâbonaise. Another time, when the simpleton was grown a bit bigger, he again begged money of his parents: this time that he might get him a wife. And since he would not take a refusal, he got his sixteen rupees and set out afresh in search of a wife. Finally, he went and sat at a place where the village women drew water. And when a pretty maiden came down with her vessel on her hip to draw water, he seized her and carried her off.
Phâre fai-ùi fai-ùi nâmâ-i-au mengnânai bongfâng fângse nî singau zirainaise, ârù mosô halwâ mâse lânânai mânsùi sâse bù beaunù ziraidangman. Bîbaidî bîsùr ziraibâ thâbâ homnai lâng-zâ-nai hingzausâiâ zingâsi-nânai gâbùi gâbùi megon-dùiâ hâ-hâlâgi bùhi-lâng-naise. Bîkhô nunânai mosô lânai mânsùia âbrâ-nù khithânaise “Nang be hingzau-sâ-khô mau mannai? ârù nang bîkhô nainânai lâbodang, na naiâ­labâ lâbodang?” Obâ âbrâiâ bungnaise “Ang bîkhô mazâng nunânai bîsurnî dùi-gathân-nî-frai thâkâ zokhai-brui dinnânai lâbo­dang.” Obânú bî buddi grângâ bungnaise “Nang khânâ dang: be hingzausâ mazâng-bâ-bù, bînî megon thaine-â betnai. Nang nuakhùi nù? Honùi, dùiâ so so bùhîlângdang. Bîbaidi hingzausâkhô nang mâ khâmnù?” Be khorâng khnânânai âbrâiâ bînî mosô zang slainù nâmainaise. Khintu bî mânsùiâ misainù hùnù nâmâiâ. Theobù embrâbrâ bînaikhai: “lâ, le, lâ!” hannânai, mosôzang mânsùisang slainânai, gâgai gâgai monau gahâm mannânai azang sâse azang sâse mâmâr thânglainaise. Be­baidînù thângùi thângùi âbrâiâ bongfâng fângse singau burmâ lânai mânsùi sâse zåbai thânai nunânai, bîbù beau-nù zånaise. Bebaidî zåbai thâbâ, mosoâ hâ-sudangman. Phâre bî burmâ lânai mânsùiâ bungnaise “Be mosô nî uduiâ goblongbai, ârù sân sese thâbâ be thoisigan. Beaubù bî âbrâiâ gomâ nungnânai, mosôkhô bînî burmâzang slainaise. Bebaidî thângùi, ârù sâse thâlit lânai mânsùi bebaidî-nù bongfang singau zånai mânsùi lùgù man­nânai, âbrâiâ bú zådangman. Khintu burmâiâ gângsu ukhuinâ­nai bâbrâp bainaiau bî zånu sukhu man-e-khai, burmâ khô bubâ, burmâ bâ bâ hannaise. Obânu; “Ese mengnaiu âng nangkhô mâbrui bâgan?” hannânai, brâp­nânai, gârnu lubuibâ, be thâlit lânai mânsùiâ, thâlit khô âbrânù hùnânai bî burmâ khô lângnaise. Bîbaidî nù bîsùr bînîfrai thâng­lainaise. Ereaunù sâse mânsùi bînî sigâng-thing âsî khrep-khrep[21] dâmnânai faidang. Obâsu khâ­thiau lùgù manbâ âbrâiâ bung­naise “Âng burmâ mâse mânî hùnânai be thâlit-khô, lâbo­dang. Theobù ângnîau thâlit bîù?” Erùi hannânai “nang thâlit zânù lubuidang-bâ nang-nî bidyâkhô ângnù hù;” hannânai, bî biaunù hurâsemâni sùlùngnânai, zenthe-nùi hânânai, thâlit-khô bînù hùnânai âsî khrep khrep dâmnâ­nai thângnaise. Thângùi thân­gui, mai gezer dâpseau khînù onkhâtnânai khînaiau bînî bidyâkhô baugârnaise. Ârù be mai gezeraunù gamâbai hannânai, maikhô themâ nainaibaidî nainaise. Beaunù mainî girimaiâ mai hâbai thâdangman, nunânai, bîkhô sùngnaise “Nanghâ beau mâ gamâdang? Ângnî mai-fùrâ hâmâ zâthrobai!” Âbrâ bung­naise “Anghâ thâkâ zokhai-brùi nî bidyâ manse beaunù gamâbai. Nang bù âng zang namai-phâ-bâ, âng nangkhô gahâm mangan,” hannaikhai, bî bù nâmaiùi nâmaiùi, manekhai brâpnânai: “nang nî khorângâ misâ,” hannâ­nai, âsi dâmbâ: “Âfâ, dâ âng manbâi;” hannânai âbrâiâ khât­lângnaise. And when he got tired, he stopped to rest under a tree. And it happened that a man driving a plough ox was also resting there, and the maiden sat there crying her very eyes out for grief at having been carried off. So the man with the ox asked the simpleton “Where did you get that girl? Did you have a look at her before you took her, or didn’t you?” To which the simpleton replied “She seemed a pretty girl, so I put down sixteen rupees at the bathing place and carried her off.” On which the wise man said: “You must be blind. The girl’s pretty enough, but don’t you see that both her eyes are burst. You clearly don’t see straight. Just see how the water is flowing from both her eyes.” On hearing this, the simpleton offered to exchange the girl for the ox. But the other pretended to be unwilling, till, after much persistence on the part of the simpleton, he cried: “There, take it, take it!” So the exchange was effected, and each went on his way mightily satisfied. And, as the simpleton went his ways, he found a man seated under a tree having a goat with him. So he too stayed to rest. And when they stopped to rest, the ox lay down to rest. On this, the man with the goat said: “That ox is not a good bargain. It will die in a day or two.” And the simpleton, believing this, exchanged the ox for the goat. And when he set forth again, he met a man carrying a big bunch of plantains. So the two sat down. And as the goat was restless and gave him no peace, the simpleton began beating it, so that it cried Ba! ba! (now Ba in the Kachári speech means “carry”). So he said “Do you suppose a tired man like me is going to carry you?” And he was so angry that in disgust he exchanged the goat for the bunch of plantains; and went on. And as he went, he met a man cracking his fingers, and, thinking he did it in scorn of his plantains, explained at what price he had got them. However, he offered to give him the plantains if he would teach him the art of cracking his fingers. So the two stayed there a long time till the simpleton had more or less acquired the art he coveted. Then as he went on, he suddenly forgot what he had learned. And because he forgot it in a paddy field, he thought he must have lost it in the paddy, and began examining the ears of paddy as a woman searches another woman’s hair for lice. And when the owner of the field came up and asked what he was about, he said: “I have lost a thing which cost me sixteen rupees. Come and help me to look.” So the two looked together, and when, after much search, they found nothing, the other man, in pure vexation, cracked his fingers. On which the simpleton, crying “I’ve found it! I’ve found it!” went dancing away.
Ârù bebaidî thângùi thângùi fukuri manse manhùibâ beaubù bî khînânai bînî bidyâ khô baugâr­naise. Phâre bî nâmaie nâmaie manâkhùi. Ereaunù sâse mânsùi lùgù mannânai sùngnaise: “Nanghâ beau ma gamâdang?” hanbâ; “Âfâ, ânghâ beau gahâm basthu manse gamâbai, nangbù namaibâ, âng gahâm mangô;” bungnai-au bîbù bîzang namaifânaise, ârù unau nâmaiùi nâmaiùi hâbru zang musunlâ-musunlî zânânai, theobù mane­khai, bî mânsùiâ brâpnânai âsi dâmnaise. Obâ bî “o âfâ, dâsù âng bekhô manbai!” hannânai, rong zânânai, nå-hâ-lâgi khrep-khrep dâmnânai nå manhúinaise. Bikhô nunânai brai bùrùiâ minî-sù-naise. Agla bîkhô sinai manâ­khùiman, unau sùngnânai mithînaise. “Ârù thâkâfurâ mâ khâm-khù?” hanbâ, bungnaise “Âng hingzau sâse lâbodangman, Behâ megon thaine bù betnai. Bînîkhai ârù mosô slainaise, Bihâ bù udui goblong zânai, ârù burmâ mâse zang bîkhô slainaise. Bîbù ângkhô bânù thinnaikhai brâp­nânai, thâlit slainaise. Thâlit khô nunânai, sâse mânsùiâ bînai­khai, be mânsùinîfrai be bidyâ khô sùlùngnânai thâlit hùnani lâbodang. Ârù âng mâ khâmnù nânggò?” Zapbai! Presently, he stopped by a tank, and again forgot his new acquisition. So he plunged into the mud to look for it. And a man came up and asked what he was searching for? To which he replied “My friend, my friend! I have lost something very valuable. Do come and help me to look.” On which, the two searched until they were covered with mud; and when they found nothing, the new-comer cracked his fingers in vexation, and the simpleton, crying “I’ve found it! I’ve found it!” went gaily cracking his fingers all the way home. And when his father and mother saw him, they smiled at his state, and till they spoke to him did not know who he was. And then they asked him what he had done with his money. “Oh!” said he, “first of all I bought a lovely maiden, and, because her eyes were bad, I exchanged her for an ox; and because there was something wrong with the ox, I got a goat in exchange; and because the goat wanted me to carry him, I got angry and changed him for plantains. And the plantains I gave to a man who taught me to crack my fingers, and what else would you have me do?” And that’s all!

Sâ-snî âbrâ nî khorâng. The Story of the Seven Simpletons.
Sùrbâ âbrâ sâsnî dangman. Bîsùr sân se dâpseau onkhâtlâng-nai-au nâmâ-au-nù dùi-slùng bângai mannânai bîkhônù mâbrùi bâtgan hannânai khorâng zâlai-naise. Beaunù bîdâ gederâ bung­naise “Boibù zânzî khâphrâ-nânai bâtnù nângbai;” hannânai, boinùkhri bî âglâ zânânai, bînî khithîau sâse hom-hù-naise. Bebaidî-nù bînî zânziau bî, bînî zânziau bî homlainânai dùislungau sânsrilainaise. Beaunù âtheng-mani zerbâ-mâni sânsrinai-au thoi onkhâtlainaise. Phâre bebaidînù zenthen ùi bâtkhângnânai bîdâ gederâ sâse-se lângkhâtbai nung­nânai sân-naise. Sânânai sârå bùâ mannaise. Ârù unau bînî godâiâ sânnaise. Bî bù sâ-rå bùâ mannaikhai, sâfrimbù khonse khonse sânnânai sâṛå bùâ man­nai. Bînîkhai boibù sâse lâng­khâtbai hannânai zingâsî-nânai khorâng zâzlaibai thâdangman. Ereaunù bething Bâmun sâse thângnânai besùrkhô nunânai sùngnaise: “Gotho-fùr nung-sùrhâ mâ zâdang?” Bîsùr bung­naise “Âfâ, zangfùr bîdâ bîfong sâsnî man. Dâ be dùisâ bât-naiau zangfùrhâ sâse lângkhâtbai. Bînîkhai beaunù zangfùr zingâsi-lai-bai thâdang,” hannaikhai Bâmunâ srî srî sânnânai sâsnî khôbù nudang. Bînîkhai bî “Besùr âbrâ zânù nânggô” nungnânai, besùrkho khithânaise, “Gåthåfùr, nangsùr ângnî nåi-au bùibâ, âng nangsùrnî mânsùikhô dîhonnânai hùnù hâgan,” han­naikhai, bîsur mânthî zânaise. Unau Bâmun goe khândisnî khaunânai bîdâ gedernî âkhâiau hùnânai “Be goe-â-khândi bese dang, nang sân.” Hanbâ, bî sânnanai khândî snî mannâise. Beaunù Bamunâ bungnaise: “Nangsùr be goekhô rânlainânai zâ,” hanbâ, rânnai-au gâgai gâgai grup-gaglai-naise. Beaunù bîsur rong zânânai Bâmun-nî nåiau bùinò-lâgi Bâmun zang thâng-fâ-naise. There were, once upon a time, seven simpletons. And once they were going down the road, and meeting a puddle, were in great distress as to how they should cross it. And the eldest said “I will go first, and you all follow, holding one another’s loin cloths.” So they held one another’s cloths and crawled through the puddle on their hands and knees, getting very muddy and dirty in doing so. But when they had fairly got across, the elder set to work to count; and, as he failed to count himself, behold, there was one missing. Then the next brother counted; and, as he, too, found one missing, they each in turn counted. And so it became clear that one was lost; and there they stood debating this deplorable business. Just then a wily Brahmin came up, and asked what was the matter. And they told him that they had been seven, but that in crossing the puddle, one of them had been lost. On which, the Brahmin, quickly counting them, found that they were still seven, and, judging them to be simpletons, said to them “My sons, if you will come to my house and work for me, I will find you the missing man.” To which with one accord they agreed. Then the Brahmin split a betelnut into seven pieces and put them into the hand of the eldest. “Now count them,” said he, “and tell me how many there be.” And he counted and found that there were seven. “Now take each man a piece,” said the Brahmin, and, behold, to each piece there was a man. So in great joy and peace of mind they went to the Brahmin’s house to work.
Phâre bebaidînù sânnesù thâ­nânai sânse bîsùrkhô bâriau megong dângnù lâgi thin-nâise. Âru Bâmun-hâ sâse fisâtlâ dang­man. Bîkhôbu bîsùrzang hùnânai khithânaise, “ângnî fisâ­tlâ-iâ bù nangsùr zang megong dâng-thang, ârù un zâ-lâng-bâ bîkhô thutlun-thutlân lângfâ.” Erùi bungbâ bîsùr bâriau thâng­nânai megong dânghùidang. Phâre unau Bâmun-nî fisâtlâiâ un zâlâng-naise. Beaunù bîkhô nunânai bîsùr railainaise “Dùhùi bîfâ khithâ-dangman “gåthå un zâlângbâ bîkhô thutlun thutlân lâng,” hannânai, dâ-nî-au zang­fùr mâ khâmgan?” Beaunù bîdâ gederâ “Bebaidînù khâmnù nânggô,” hannânai, sâfrimbu bî khonse, bî khonse, megong dâng­nai sekhâr zang thunânai hùnânai. Bamun-nî gåthåkhô bùthâtnânai dinnaise. Phâre unau megong dângkhângnânai nåiau faibâ Bamunâ sùngnaiau khithânaise “nang khithânaibaidi zangfùr bîkhô sekhâr zang thunai-au bî thoinânai thâbai.” Phâre Bamu­nâ srî srî thânaise. And then, one day, he sent the seven simpletons out into the garden to weed the vegetables, and with them he sent his only son, saying “If the lad is lazy and falls behind, shove him along and make him work.” So they all went into the garden and began cutting the weeds with their knives; and presently the boy fell into the rear. On which they said “There is that Brahmin boy fallen behind. Did not his father say that we were to push him along? What is to be done now? But the elder brother said, “Do? Why, do as we were told.” On which each of them hit him with his weeding knife, so that presently he died. And when the weeding was quite finished, they went and told the Brahmin, saying “You told us to shove him along, and as we had our knives in our hands, we hurt him so that he died.” But the Brahmin was speechless, for they had but done as they were told.
Ârù sânse hâli oinù thinnânai bungnaise “Nangsùr gâbun simli sâ-i-au hâli oinù thângnù nânggan.” Phâre unau bîsùr fungzâni sikhângnânai nângal mosô fâgâ lânanai simlifâng guriau thângnânai, simli sâ-i-au khaise gâkhùnaise, ârú khaise hâ-i-au thânânai mosôkhô fâgâ zang khâ­nânai hùbâ, sâ-i-au thânaifrâ bù-khù-lâng-naise. Beaunù dîdung zå-i zå-i hâli snî mosô[22] gâsenù thoi-thrå-naise. Unåu nå-i-au fainânai bîsùr Bâmunnù khithâ­naise “Zangfùr simlî sâ-i-au mosô dî-khâng-nù hâekai hâli oinù hâiakhuise.” Bamunâ “mosôfrâ mâ zâkhù?” Hanbâ, “thoi-thrâ-bai,” khithânaise. Bâmunâ unau mung-bô upai mane zânânai ârù mosô bainânai bîsùrkhô hâli oi-hù-naise. Another day he told them to go and plough. “Take your ploughs up above the great simul tree,” he said. So they rose in the early morning, and, taking ploughs, cattle and ropes, went to the great simul tree. And some stayed below and bound the ploughs and cattle with the ropes, and others climbed the tree and hauled. But the ropes broke and the cattle were killed and the ploughs were smashed. And then they went and told the Brahmin that they had tried to plough above the simul tree and had failed. “And what of the cattle?” said he, “Oh! they fell down and were killed,” they replied. So, in despair, he bought other cattle and sent them out to plough afresh.
Phâre mai mannai-au mai hâ­nânai unau Bâmunâ dângri khaie khaie hùnânai bîsùrkhô rùgânù thinnaise. Beaunù bîsùr mai­khô mau dinnù hannânai sùng­bâ, Bâmunâ bungnaise “Bùrùiâ zerùi din-nù thin-ù, beau-nù din,” hanbâ, bîsùr thângnânai, bùrùi-khô sùng-hùi-naise. Bùrùiâ nå-nî hâbâfùr khâmnai-i-au monau brâpnânai thâdangman. Beaunù bî bungnaise “Mai din-nù thaùni manâbâ, ângnî khoro-au-nù dinfai!” hanbâ, bîsùr boibo mai bibân zang bùrùi-khô hù-sin-thrå-naise. Bîbaidî-nù gâsenù mai rùgânânai bînî sâiau dinnaise. Phâre manâbâ Bâmun dublî nî frai fainânai bùrùi khô nâmaibâ bîsùr khithânaise “Ângnî khårå-au-nù mai din han-nai-khai zang­fur mai zang hu-sin-nânai din­dang.” Biaubù braiâ mungbô upai mane zânanai, bùrùi khô fopnù lâgi bîsurnù hoṭnaise. Phâre bîsùr bùrùi-khô khânânai oâ sing sing bageding-bagedâ bân-lâng-nai-au bùrùiâ oâ thânai-au nângnânai siri-lângnaise. And when the harvest was ripe, they reaped the paddy, and, tying it in sheaves, brought it home and asked where they were to put it. And the Brahmin said “Put it where my old woman tells you to put it.” So they went and asked the Brahmin’s wife. But she was very busy, and only cried “Oh, bother you and your paddy! Put it on my head!” On this, they all took their sheaves, and heaped them on the old woman, so that she died. And when the Brahmin came from his work and asked for his old woman, they said they had buried her in the paddy, as she told them to. On which, being at his wit’s end, he bade them go and bury her. On this, they tied the corpse on a bamboo sledge and bumped it along through the bamboo-clump, so that it got knocked off by the way. And when they came to some fallow land, they dug a grave, and then began looking about for the corpse. Now there was an old woman hard by herding cattle. “Cunning old wretch!” said they, “she is afraid of being buried, and is pretending to be somebody else.” So they got hold of her, and, in spite of her struggles, buried her.
Phâre besùr bâkor-bâreau[23] thângnânai bîbânkhô dinnânai hâkhor zaunânai bùrùikhô fopnù lâgi naibâ, manekhai, bùrùi-khô nâmaibainaise. Sùrbâ bùrùi sâse khâthi-au-nù mai nebai thâdang­man. Bîkhônù nunânai bîsùr railainaise “Bâmun bùrùiâ bud­digrang fop-zânù gînânai, beaunù mai nebai thâ-thî-dang,” hannânai bîkhô homnânai lângnânai fopnâ­nai dinnânai fainaise. Bînî unau Bâmunâ monau bîsùrkhô gînânai bùthâtnù lâgi mon khâmnânai bîsùrnù khithânaise “Gåthåfùr, dinî zangfùr simlifâng gederkhô dân-hùi-nù nânggô,” hannânai, ruâ lânânai simlîfâng ni guriau thânglainaise. Thâng-nânai ruâ zang bongfâng khô såùi såùi bong­fâng gaglai-sî gaglai-sî zâbâ, Bâmunâ bîsurkhô bungnaise “Bongfâng gaglai-sî-sù gau-gan, nang-sùr boibù hom-thânu nânggô.” Khithânânai Bâmunâ saunânai hùnaise. Unau bong­fâng gaglai-sin-nânai sâsnî âbrâ thoinaise. Zapbai! And the Brahmin, in fear of what they might do next, began to contrive means to get rid of them. So he said “Today, my sons, we will go and cut down the great simul tree.” So they took their axes and, going to the simul tree, began hewing with a will, and when the tree was tottering to its fall, the Brahmin said to them “If the tree falls down, it will be broken. Run under it and catch it!” And when they did so, the Brahmin gave the last strokes, and the tree fell on the seven simpletons and killed them. And that’s all!

Khânâ khuzâ nî khorâng. The Story of the Blind Man and the Hunchback.
Sânùi khânâ khuzâ zang phisi­khî man. Phâre bîsùr sânse railainaise “Zang-fùr mâlâi-nî gâmiau bîbaibâ zang-nî gâmî-nî-khrî bângsin mangan.” Hanlainâ­nai khuzaiâ khânâkhô lauthiau homnânai, bùlângnaise. Thângùi thângùi nâmâ gezerau dîdung sorûi manse gâ-fnâng-nânai phisikhî-nû khithânaise “Sikhî, be lai mâ, herâ? Mâbâ galâu zibô baidi gâfnângdang.” Khuzâiâ bungnaise “Be hâthî khânai dîdung sorûi.” Hanbâ, khanâiâ, “Obâ bekhô lâ, herâ, sikhî”; hannânai bungnaise, Khintu bî lâê-khai “Ângnù dîkhângnânûi hu;” hannânai, khânaia didung-khô lânaise. There sprang up a friendship between a blind man and a hunchback. And one day they said to one another “We shall get more if we beg in some other village than our own.” The hunchback made the blind man hold his stick, and so dragged him along. And as they went, the blind man trod upon an old elephant rope which lay upon the road, and said to his friend “Ah! friend, what is this thing like a long snake which I am treading upon?” The hunchback said “Why, it is only an old elephant-rope.” But the blind man said “Take it, my friend, take it.” But, as the hunchback refused, the blind man bid his friend hand it to him, and so they went their ways thence.
Phâre bînîfrai thângùi dûisâ manse man-hûi-nî-au bâtlangbâ khûsûng mâse khânâiâ gâfnâng-naise, ârù bungnaise “Sikhî, ne ne! Âng mâbâ mâse gâfnâng­dang.” Hanbâ, khuzâiâ “Onthai-frâ-khô-nù mâthù bungbai thâiù, herâ, sikhî, nang-lâi?” Khânâiâ bungnaise “Nonggâ, nonggâ, sikhî, nang gùgrùmnai.” Hanbâ bî gùgrùmnânai khusum-khô mannânai, khânâ-nù khithâbâ, bungnaise “O sikhî, obâ bekhô lâ herâ: zangfurnù bekhô nâng­gan.” Khuzaiâ “Ilit ilit lâiâ, herâ” han-nai-khai, khânâiâ bîkhô-bù gagai-nù lânaise. Bînî­frai bibaidî-nù thângùi thângùi dâpse-au dol dâmnai khnânânai khânaiâ khuzânîau sùngnaise “Sikhî bî dolâ-lai sùr thù? Mau thù dâmdang, herâ?” Hanbâ khuzaiâ khithânaise; Beaunù sùrbâ gurkhiâ gåthåfùr dâm­dang” hanbâ, khânâiâ bîkhô lânù lâgi thin-naise. And presently they came to a river; and as they were wading across it, the blind man trod upon a tortoise and told his friend that he had trod upon something living; but the hunchback said it was only a stone, and asked what was the use of standing there talking. But the blind man begged him to feel and see. And when the hunchback announced that it was a tortoise, the blind man begged his friend to take that, too; and on the hunchback declaring that it was too heavy, he finally carried it himself. Then they went their ways and came to a meadow, and heard a drum being beaten. And the blind man asked what that was, and where the drumming was going on. On which the hunchback said it was only cowherds drumming. On which the blind man was for sending the hunchback to fetch the drum.
Khintù bî, “âng mâbrùi lâbogan? Bîsùr-khô âng bùlù hâiâ zâgan, manâthù bîsur gabâng dang,” hanbâ, khânâiâ manse buddhi khâmnânai phisikhî-nù khithanaise “Sikhî, nang hâgrâ sing sing thâng-khmâ-nanai, bîsùr nî khâthî manbâ, mosâ baidî sùgùmnânai hù! Obânù bîsùr gînanai khâtgan,” hanbâ, bîbai­dînù khuzâiâ khâmnai-au, gåthå-frâ gînanai dol khô zrâpzrup gâr-lâng-bâ, khuzâiâ dol khô lâbona­nai khânânù hoṛ-hù-naise. Obasù bînîfrai sânùi zang hâgrâ gezer gezer thângùi thângùi nå nunanai, khuzâiâ bungnaise “Sikhî, dâ sân hâpbai, manâ faibai, Dâlai ârù mâu thâng-bâu-nù? Beau-nù nå danga. Zangfùr beau-nù thâ-dù-nî,” hanbâ, khânâiâ bung­naise “Hagra gezernî nåkhô âng gabâng gahâm man-srâiâ, herâ, sikhî,” hannânai mâ mâ nå dang gahâmùi nainù thinbâ khuzâiâ khithânaise “Nåiâ gâng-ne gâng-thâm. Bândâr bù gong-se dang,” hanbâ khânâiâ “Bî bândârau-nù thâgan,” hannânai, phisikhî-nù khithâbâ, bândâr-sing-hà bùlângnaise, ârù dor-fur-khô gahâmùi khâ-fthâ-nù thinnânai, beaunù thânaise. Unau beau thânai Râikhô-frâ fainânai, bungnâise— But the hunchback said “How shall I fetch it? They will be too strong for me, for they are many.” Then the blind man devised a plan, and bade the hunchback crawl through the jungle and roar like a tiger. Which the hunchback did; and the cowherd boys, on hearing his roaring, ran away headlong and left the drum, which the hunchback gave, as before, to the blind man to carry. Then the friends went through the forest, until they came to some houses. On which the hunchback said “My friend, the sun has set, and evening has come. How much further are we to go? Here are houses, let’s stop here.” But the blind man said he did not think very well of houses in the jungle, and sent his friend to have a good look at them. Presently the hunchback returned and said “There are two or three houses and a granary.” On this, the blind man decided that they would stay in the granary, and so was dragged into the granary, where they carefully fastened the doors and prepared to stay for the night. And while they were there, Rakshashas came and said—
“Zùsâ zùsâ manâmdang; “Zânù zânù lubuidang.”[24] “Fine rice, fine rice, I can smell; “And better things to eat as well.”
hannânai, nå gong frùm-bù namâi-giding-bai-bâ, khânâiâ rai-dau-hoṭ-naise “Âng beaunù dâng.” Hanbâ, raikhoâ bungnaise “Nang lai sùr?” Khânâ bù bung­naise “Nang lai sùr?” Raikho khithânaise “Âng Raikhô!” Khâ­naiâ bungnaise “Âng Zâkhô! Bebaîdînù be-sùr brâp-lai-naise Unâu khânâiâ bung-naise “Brâp-nù bù nânggâ, munù bù nânggâ Nangkhô bù âng nuâ­khùi, ângkhô bù nang nuâ­khùi. Bînîkhai manse buddi khâmbâ, zanghâ gahâm zâgan,” hannânai khânâiâ raikhônî khenai bîhot-bâ, Raikhoâ gaigainî khù-mùn daise phunânai khithîhoṭ-naise. Obâsù khânâiâ bungnaise “Dâniâ ângnî khenai-khô nai.” Hannânai, hâthî dîdung khô dî­honnânai hùnaise. Bîkhô nunâ­nai Raikhoâ gîkhrongbâ, khânâiâ ârù themâ bî-hoṭ-naise Raikhoâ bù gaigainî themâ khô khithî-hoṭ-bâ, bî khusung khô khithîhoṭ-naise. Obâsù Raikhoâ be Zâkhoâ-nù nunggô nungnânai, gî-sin-bai. Khanâiâ ârù bînî udui dâmnù thinnânai, dâmbâ, bungnâise, “Dindù dindù hâmbai, âng khnâbai. Dâniâ ângnî khô khnâsong!” hannânai, dol khô dùm dùm dâmnânai hùbâ, Rai­khofrâ gînanai, khât-thro-lâng-naise. And while they were gliding round the house, the blind man shouted loudly “Here am I!” “Who are you?” said the Rakshashas. “Who are you?” shouted the blind man. “I am a Rakshasha,” said one of them. “And I am a Zakshasha!”[28] said the blind man. Whereupon they all got very angry. Then the blind man said “You need not get angry and you need not get noisy. I can’t see you and you can’t see me. Let us make an expedient by which you can be satisfied.” So saying, the blind man bade the Rakshasha show him a lock of his hair. On this a Rakshasha tore out a bunch of hair and showed it to him. On which the blind man said “Now see mine!” And so saying, thrust out of a chink the elephant rope. And on seeing it, the Rakshasha became very afraid. Then the blind man demanded to see a flea (from his body). And when the Rakshasha had shown him one, the blind man put forth his tortoise. Then the Rakshasha thought “This must indeed be a Zakshasha,” and was greatly afraid. Then the blind man bade him beat his breast. And, on his doing so, cried “Well done, well done! I have heard you. Now hear me!” and straightway began to beat his drum “rub-a-dub-dub.” On which the Rakshashas were greatly frightened and ran right away.
Unao, khânâiâ phisikhîkhô bungnaise “Sikhî mâ mâ gahâm bastù dang, bifurkhô khâ ârù nang bâse, ângnù bù bâse hù, ârù mâmâr thângdù-nî thù” hannâ­nai bîsùr bînîfrai mâmâr failainaise. Ârù dâpse gazân thâni-au thâng­nânai khuzâiâ be bastufarkhô rânnù nâmainânai rânnaise, Rân-khângbâ khânâ-khô bungnaise “Sikhî nangthâng bobekhô lâiu lâ,” Hanbâ bî dângnainanânai khuzâ thing-nî bhâgù-khô bângsin man-dâng-nânai, rânnâiâ hâmâ khùise hannânai, golaigothai khâmnaise. Phâre khuzâiâ “Nang-thâng-lai nuâ-labâ mâbrùi mithînai, herâ? Khonle khonle rânnù gnâng khâm-hùiù!” Hannânai ârù rân-phâphinbâ, obâbù bâng­sin man-dâng-nânai, ârù “Hamâ-khùise, hamâ-khùise,” hannânai golai-gothai khâmnaise. Bîbaidî nù khonbrùi khon-bâ khâmbâ khuzâiâ brâpnânai, âkhâiau bâli lânânai “Nanglai gomâ khânâ nâ misâ khânâ lùi?” hannânai gahâmùinù megonau bâlizang hùnânai hùnaise. Ârù obânù bî nunai zânaise. Ârù bî bù brâpnânai; “nunglai” mâ sâbâ dângâ lùi, nunù hâma hannânai godo-au zo-sin-nânai lânânai, khuzâ bikhung-au gomâgom sobai thâbâ bîbù gahâm zânaise. Unau sânùi zang gahâm zâ-lai-nâise, ârù bastù-fùr-khô gahâmùi rân­lainânai, nå-i-au thâng-lai-naise. Zapbai! Then the blind man said to his friend “Take any good things that there are, and tie them up. You take some and give me some, and let us go;” and, so saying, they went away together. And when they were come to a far place, the hunchback began dividing the spoil. And, when that was done, he bade his friend take which share he would. But the blind man groped about and found that the share nearest to the hunchback was the biggest. So the hunchback said “How did you, without seeing, find that out? Now I have got to divide it all over again!” So he made a fresh division. And the same thing happened again, and the blind man turned everything topsy-turvy. And, when this had occurred four or five times, the hunchback became angry, and taking sand in his hand rubbed it into the blind man’s eyes, saying “Now we shall see if you are really blind or not;” whereby the blind man recovered his sight. But he, too, was angry and said “What a hideous thing you are, and hateful to look upon.” And he jumped on the hunchback’s back and belaboured his hump till he made him straight and well. And when the two were hale and well, they divided their spoil fairly and went home happily. And that’s all!

Sâse âbrâ brai nî khorâng. The Story of a silly old man.
Brai bùrùi dangman. Braiâ hâgrâ gezerau dubli dotse lânanai hâbâ maubai thâdangman. Phâre sânse shikâri sâse hâgrâiau mùi gaunânai thoi-frâm-nânai khârùi khârùi brainî dubli gezer thing thângdangman. Beaunù braiâ nunânai bîkhô khudâl zang khårå-au-nù denânai mùikhô bùthâtnaise. Buthâtnânai hâgrâ singau hakhmânânai dinnaise. Emphâre unau mùi gaunai giri­maia khîthù khîthù thoi sirîlâng­nai naie naie nâmai-lângùi-lângùi brainî dubliaunù sin gamânaise. Obâsù braikhô sùngnaise: “Helùi brai! Nang bething mùi mâse fainai nunâi nâ?” Braiâ bung­naise “Ânghâ dublî-nî shimâiâ khùlâthing boinîfrai sâthing boinîfrai” hannânai bungbâ bî bung­naise “Nonggâ nonggâ! âng mùinî khorâng-sù nang-nî-au sùngdang,” Braiâ khithânaise “Zânun! be dubliau mai zâiù nâ zâiâ âng khîthânù hâiâ.” “Nang­ga-lùi, brai, bî khorâng-khô âng sùngâkhui.” Brai bung­naise “Dâ sânzôfûbai, ânghâ mikhâm ukhui-sù-dang. Âng thâng-nù-sùi;” hannânai, nåiau khâtlângnaise. Obâsù unau braiâ mikhâm dùi zâkhângnânai bùrùi-khô bungnaise; Bùrùi, âng-nù gâbun phungau-nù mikhâm song­nânai hù. Ang mùi mâse buthât­nânai zangnî dubliau dinbùdang. Bîkhô mâmâr gadânù nânggô.” Obâsù okhâ naibâ, bùrùi mâmâr khâm dùi brainù hùnânai bîkhô hogârnaise. Bî dubliau thângnâ­nai mùikhô gadânânai rânnaise. Aglâ gaigai-nî bhâgù khâmnaise. “Phânse mùkhâng sunai-nî, phânse thânkhu zânai-nî, phânse dubliau mosô hùlângnai-nî, phânse hâli oinai-nî.” Bebaidînù huâfùrhâ zese hâbâ dang, gâsenù bhâgù khâm-thrå-naise. Dâ unau bùrùi-nî bhâgù khâmdang “Phânse mukhâng sunai-nî, phânse thânkù zânai-nî, phânse khundung lùnainî, phanse khun pheretnai-nî, phânse hî dânai-nî, phânse khâm songnai-nî, phânse dùi lainai-nî.” Bibaidînù bînî bù zese hâbâ dang, esenù bhâgù khâmnânai sân-naise. Sânnânai bùrùi nî bhâgùâ bângsin man­naise. Obâsù braiâ brâp-nânai. “Ângsù bùrùinîkhrî hâbâ bângai bùâ mau-ù nâ? hannâ-nai, golaigothai khâmnânai, ârù rân-phâphin-naise. Dâniâ âglâ bùrùi­nù bhâgù khâmgru-nai, ârù unau bînî bhâgù khâm-nai. Dâbîhâ bângsin zânaise. Theobù braiâ bîau mon phatiâ khùise. Bîbaidî­nù bî golai-gothai khâmùi khâmùi rânbâbù hamân zâiâ. Bîbaidînù sânse mâni zânaikhai, bùrùiâ; “Brâiâ-lai mâ khâm-khù?” hannânai, dhinkî thorâ manse lânanai, dublîau thângnânai, brai-khô-nuhùi-dang, gaigainù bidot zang nânglaibâ thâdang. Bîdot-frâ-bù khonle khonle dâng-phlebai thâ-naikhai, gebletheble zâlâng­bai. Obâsù bùrùiâ dhinkî thorâ zang srî srî khîthû-au khubui-hoṭ-bâ, braiâ mâbâ imfu hoṭbai hannâ­nai, bîdot-khô gârnânai nåhâ khâtlâng-naise. Emphâre, bùrùiâ bîdot khô hî zang ban-nânai bâ­nânai nå-au lâbonânai, songnânai, brai-zang zâ-lai-bâ, braiâ sùngnaise “Bùrùi, belai mâ-nî bîdot?” hanbâ, bùrùiâ khithânaise “Âng dausâ fisâ mâse buthâtnânai, nanghâ manâ lâng-nai-khai, bekhônù song-dop-nânai dindang. Nangnî bî mùi-bîdot-khô nebai thâbâ, zangfur dâ khâm man-zâ-gla-gauman.” Zapbai! There was an old man and his wife. One day, when the old man was clearing jungle, a half-dead deer that had been shot by a huntsman, came limping that way and crossed the old man’s field. On which the old man killed it by hitting it on the head with his hoe, and hid it away in the jungle. Presently, the man who shot the deer made his appearance, having tracked its blood as far as the old man’s field. “Here, old man!” said he, “have you seen a wounded deer pass this way?” The old man replied “The boundaries of my field? Well, the east boundary is here and the west over there!” But the other said “Not so, not so, I am asking about a wounded deer.” To which the old man replied “I know what you mean; but whether it will be a good crop or not, how shall I say?” “Not so, not so,” said the other; that isn’t what I want to know.” But the old man said “I cannot stop any longer. The dark is falling, and I am hungry for my supper. I’m off.” So saying, he went away home, and when he had had his supper, he said to his old woman “You must give me my breakfast early tomorrow, for I have killed a deer, and I must go early and cut it up.” So the old woman gave him his breakfast very early and sent him about his business. And he went to his field, and, having chopped up the carcase began dividing the pieces. And first he put apart his own share, “One piece for washing my face in the morning; one piece for chewing tobacco; one piece for driving the cattle afield; one piece for ploughing”; and so on, for all his daily avocations. Then he made out his old woman’s share: “One piece for washing her face in the morning; one piece for chewing tobacco; one piece for spinning cotton; one piece for fretting cotton; one piece for weaving cloth; one piece for cooking rice; one piece for drawing water;” and so on, with all her occupations. But, on counting up, he found that the old woman’s share was much the biggest. On which he cried angrily that it was not to be believed that a woman’s share could be bigger than his, and, mixing up all the pieces of flesh on the ground, he began a fresh division. This time he set apart the old woman’s share first, and his own afterwards. This time his share became the largest. But still he was not satisfied, and, mixing all the gobbets up again, he divided them again and again, but never got them equal. Meanwhile, the day had slipped by and evening was come. So the old woman, taking the pestle of the dhenki, went to look for her husband, and there she found him in the midst of the lumps of flesh, which had become covered with dust and dirt through much mixing. Then the old woman let fly the dhenki stump at his back. On which he cried that a snake had bitten him and ran home, on which the old woman tied up the meat in a cloth and carried it to her house, and cooked some hastily for supper. And when her husband asked where the meat came from, she said that he had been such a long time in coming, that she had killed a chicken and cooked it for him. “And if you had stopped dividing that deer’s flesh, we should never have got any supper at all,” said she. And that’s all!