'The Hindoo was on foot, without companions, making his way towards the home of his forefathers, where he hoped with his little treasury to be able to spend his remaining years in peace with his family and friends, after many years' toil and absence from his home. He stopped near to the lake in question, after a long and fatiguing march, to rest himself beneath the shade of the trees, and cook his humble meal of bread and dhall. I ought here, perhaps, to say, that this class of Natives always cook in the open air, and, if possible, near a river, or large body of water, for the purpose of bathing before meals, and having water for purifying their cooking utensils, &c.
'The man having undressed himself, and carefully piled his wardrobe beneath the tree he had selected for shelter, went to the lake and bathed; after which he prepared his bread, and sat himself down to dine. As soon as he was comfortably seated, several large monkeys advanced and squatted themselves at a respectful distance from him, doubtless expecting to share in the good things he was enjoying. But, no: the traveller was either too hungry or inhospitable, for he finished his meal, without tendering the smallest portion to his uninvited visitors, who kept their station watching every mouthful until he had finished.
'The meal concluded, the traveller gathered his cooking vessels together and went to the bank of the lake, in order to wash them, as is customary, and to cleanse his mouth after eating; his clothes and valuables were left securely under the tree as he imagined,—if he thought at all about them,—for he never dreamed of having offended the monkeys by eating all he had cooked, without making them partakers. He was no sooner gone, however, than the monkeys assembled round his valuables; each took something from the collection; the oldest among them having secured the purse of gold, away they ran to the tree over the very spot where the man was engaged in polishing his brass vessels.
The Hindoo had soon completed his business at the lake, and unconscious of their movements, he had returned to the tree, where to his surprise and sorrow, he discovered his loss. Nearly frantic, the Hindoo doubted not some sly thief had watched his motions and removed his treasures, when he heard certain horrid yells from the monkeys which attracted his attention: he returned hastily to the lake, and on looking up to the tree, he discovered his enemies in the monkeys. They tantalized him for some time by holding up the several articles to his view, and when the old monkey shook the bag of gold, the poor man was in an agony; they then threw the whole into the lake, the coins, one by one, were cast into the deep water, where not a shadow of hope could be entertained of their restoration, as the lake was deep and known to be infested with alligators.
'The man was almost driven mad by this unlooked-for calamity, by which he was deprived of the many comforts his nursed treasure had so fairly promised him for the remainder of life. He could devise no plan for recovering his lost valuables, and resolved on hastening to the nearest village, there to seek advice and assistance from his fellow-men; where having related his unfortunate adventures, and declaring he had done nothing to anger the creatures, he was asked if he had dined, and if so, had he given them a share? He said, he had indeed cooked his dinner, and observed the monkeys seated before him whilst he dined, but he did not offer them any.
'"That, that, is your offence!" cried the villagers in a breath; "who would ever think of eating without sharing his meal with men or with animals? You are punished for your greediness, friend."—"Be it so," said the traveller; "I am severely used by the brutes, and am now resolved on punishing them effectually in return for the ill they have done me."
'He accordingly sold the gold ornaments from his arms and neck, purchased a quantity of sugar, ghee, flour, and arsenic, returned to his old quarters, prepared everything for cooking, and, in a short time, had a large dish filled with rich-looking cakes, to tempt his enemies to their own ruin.
'The feast was prepared in the presence of the assembled multitude of monkeys. The Hindoo placed the dish before his guests, saying, "There, my lords! your food is ready!" The old monkey advanced towards the dish, took up a cake, raised it to his nose, and then returning it to the dish, immediately ran off, followed by the whole of his associates into the thick jungle.
'The man began to despair, and thought himself the most unlucky creature existing; when, at length, he saw them returning with augmented numbers; he watched them narrowly, and observed each monkey had a green leaf in his paw, in which he folded a cake and devoured the whole speedily. The man expected of course to see them sicken immediately, for the quantity of arsenic he had used was sufficient, he imagined to have killed twenty times their number. But, no: his stratagem entirely failed; for the leaf they had provided themselves was an antidote to the poison put into their food. The traveller thus sacrificed even that little which would have carried him on his journey, had he been satisfied with his first loss; but the Hindoo cherished a revengeful disposition, and thereby was obliged to beg his way to his family.'
The next monkey story is equally marvellous, the Natives believe that it actually occurred; I am disposed, however, to think all these stories were originally fables to impress a moral upon the ignorant.