Old Deccan Days; or, Hindoo Fairy Legends Current in Southern India

by Unknown

So Logedas Rajah and his two young wives set forth on their travels. Before, however, they had gone very far, the Prince dismissed the whole of his retinue, except the elephant on which he himself rode, and the palanquin, carried by two men, in which his wives traveled. Thus, almost alone, he started through the jungle in search of a new home; but, being wholly ignorant of that part of the country, before they had gone very far they lost their way. The poor Princesses were reduced to a state of great misery; day after day they wandered on, living on roots or wild berries and the leaves of trees pounded down; and by night they were terrified by the cries of wild beasts in search of prey. Logedas Rajah became more melancholy and desponding every day; until, one night, maddened by the thought of his wives’ sad condition, and unable longer to bear the sight of their distress, he got up, and casting aside his royal robes, twisted a coarse handkerchief about his head, after the manner of a fakeer’s (holy beggar’s) turban, and throwing a woolen cloak around him, ran away in disguise into the jungle.

A little while after he had gone, the Wuzeer’s daughter awoke and found Parbuttee Bai crying bitterly. “Sister dear,” said she, “what is the matter?” “Ah, sister,” answered Parbuttee Bai, “I am crying because in my dreams I thought our husband had dressed himself like a fakeer and run away into the jungle; and I awoke, and found it was all true: he has gone, and left us here alone. It would have been better we had died than that such a misfortune should have befallen us.” “Do not cry,” said Seventee Bai: “if we cry we are lost, for the palkee-bearers[39] will think we are only two weak women, and will run away, and leave us in the jungle, out of which we can never get by ourselves. Keep a cheerful mind, and all will be well; who knows but we may yet find our husband? Meanwhile, I will dress myself in his clothes, and take the name of Seventee Rajah, and you shall be my wife; and the palkee-bearers will think it is only I that have been lost; and it will not seem very wonderful to them that in such a place as this a wild beast should have devoured me.”

Then Parbuttee Bai smiled and said, “Sister, you speak well; you have a brave heart. I will be your little wife.”

So Seventee Bai dressed herself in her husband’s clothes, and next day she mounted the elephant as he had done, and ordered the bearers to take up the palkee in which Parbuttee Bai was, and again attempt to find their way out of the jungle. The palkee-bearers wondered much to themselves what had become of Seventee Bai, and they said to one another, “How selfish and how fickle are the rich! See now our young Rajah, who married the Wuzeer’s daughter and brought all this trouble on himself thereby (and in truth ’tis said she was a beautiful lady), he seemed to love her as his own soul; but now that she has been devoured by some cruel animal in this wild jungle, he appears scarcely to mourn her death.”

After journeying for some days under the wise direction of the Wuzeer’s daughter, the party found themselves getting out of the jungle, and at last they came to an open plain, in the middle of which was a large city. When the citizens saw the elephant coming they ran out to see who was on it, and returning, told their Rajah that a very handsome Rajah, richly dressed, was riding toward the city, and that he brought with him his wife—a most lovely Princess. Whereupon the Rajah of that country sent to Seventee Bai, and asked her who she was, and why she had come? Seventee Bai replied, “My name is Seventee Rajah. My father was angry with me, and drove me from his kingdom; and I and my wife have been wandering for many days in the jungle, where we lost our way.”

The Rajah and all his court thought they had never seen so brave and royal-looking a Prince; and the Rajah said that if Seventee Rajah would take service under him, he would give him as much money as he liked. To whom the Wuzeer’s daughter replied: “I am not accustomed to take service under anybody; but you are good to us in receiving us courteously and offering us your protection; therefore, give me whatever post you please, and I will be your faithful servant.” So the Rajah gave Seventee Bai a salary of £24,000 a-year and a beautiful house, and treated her with the greatest confidence, consulting her in all matters of importance, and entrusting her with many state affairs; and from her gentleness and kindness, none felt envious at her good fortune, but she was beloved and honored by all; and thus these two Princesses lived for twelve years in that city. No one suspected that Seventee Bai was not the Rajah she pretended to be, and she most strictly forbade Parbuttee Bai’s making a great friend of anybody, or admitting any one to her confidence; for, she said, “Who knows, then, but some day you may, unawares, reveal that I am only Seventee Bai; and, though I love you as my very sister, if that were told by you, I would kill you with my own hands.”

Now the King’s palace was on the side of the city nearest to the jungle, and one night the Ranee was awakened by loud and piercing shrieks coming from that direction; so she woke her husband, and said, “I am so frightened by that terrible noise that I cannot sleep. Send some one to see what is the matter.” And the Rajah called all his attendants, and said, “Go down toward the jungle and see what that noise is about.” But they were all afraid, for the night was very dark, and the noise very dreadful, and they said to him: “We are afraid to go. We dare not do so by ourselves. Send for this young Rajah who is such a favorite of yours, and tell him to go. He is brave. You pay him more than you do us all. What is the good of your paying him so much, unless he can be of use when he is wanted?” So they all went to Seventee Bai’s house, and when she heard what was the matter, she jumped up, and said she would go down to the jungle and see what the noise was.

This noise had been made by a Rakshas,[40] who was standing under a gallows on which a thief had been hanged the day before. He had been trying to reach the corpse with his cruel claws; but it was just too high for him, and he was howling with rage and disappointment. When, however, the Wuzeer’s daughter reached the place, no Rakshas was to be seen; but in his stead a very old woman, in a wonderful glittering saree, sitting wringing her withered hands under the gallows tree, and above, the corpse, swaying about in the night wind. “Old woman,” said Seventee Bai, “what is the matter?” “Alas!” said the Rakshas (for it was he), “my son hangs above on that gallows. He is dead, he is dead! and I am too bent with age to be able to reach the rope and cut his body down.” “Poor old woman!” said Seventee Bai; “get upon my shoulders, and you will then be tall enough to reach your son.” So the Rakshas mounted on Seventee Bai’s shoulders, who held him steady by his glittering saree. Now, as she stood there, Seventee Bai began to think the old woman was a very long time cutting the rope round the dead man’s neck; and just at that moment the moon shone out from behind a cloud, and Seventee Bai, looking up, saw that instead of a feeble old woman, she was supporting on her shoulders a Rakshas, who was tearing down portions of the flesh and devouring it. Horror-stricken, she sprang back, and with a shrill scream the Rakshas fled away, leaving in her hands the shining saree.

Seventee Bai did not choose to say anything about this adventure to the Ranee, not wishing to alarm her; so she merely returned to the palace, and said that the noise was made by an old woman whom she had found crying under the gallows. She then returned home, and gave the bright saree to Parbuttee Bai.

One fine day, some time after this, two of the Rajah’s little daughters thought they would go and see Parbuttee Bai; and as it happened, Parbuttee Bai had on the Rakshas’ saree, and was standing by the half-closed window shutters looking out, when the Princesses arrived at her house. The little Princesses were quite dazzled by the golden saree, and running home said to their mother, “That young Rajah’s wife has the most beautiful saree we ever saw. It shines like the sun, and dazzles one’s eyes. We have no sarees half so beautiful, and although you are Ranee, you have none so rich as that. Why do you not get one too?”