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

by Unknown

So he took her home to his father’s house, and the old Rajah and Ranee wondered much at this jungle Lady, when they saw her rare beauty, her modest gentle ways and her queenly grace. Then the young Rajah told them how she was a persecuted Princess, and asked their leave to marry her; and because her loving goodness had won all hearts, they gave their consent as joyfully as if she had been daughter of the greatest of Rajahs, and brought with her a splendid dower; and they called her Draupadi Bai.[47]

Draupadi had some beautiful trees planted in front of her palace, in which the crows, her brothers, used to live, and she daily with her own hands boiled a quantity of rice, which she would scatter for them to eat as they flocked around her. Now some time after this, Draupadi Bai had a son, who was called Ramchundra. He was a very good boy, and his mother Draupadi Bai used to take him to school every morning, and go and fetch him home in the evening. But one day, when Ramchundra was about fourteen years old, it happened that Draupadi Bai did not go to fetch him home from school as she was wont; and on his return he found her sitting under the trees in front of her palace, stroking the glossy black crows that flocked around her, and weeping.

Then Ramchundra threw down his bundle of books, and said to his mother, putting his elbows on her knees, and looking up in her face, “Mammy, dear, tell me why you are now crying, and what it is that makes you so often sad.” “Oh, nothing, nothing,” she answered. “Yes, dear mother,” said he, “do tell me. Can I help you? If I can, I will.” Draupadi Bai shook her head. “Alas, no, my son,” she said; “you are too young to help me; and as for my grief, I have never told it to any one. I cannot tell it to you now.” But Ramchundra continued begging and praying her to tell him, until at last she did; relating to him all her own and his uncles’ sad history; and lastly, how they had been changed by a Rakshas into the black crows he saw around him. Then the boy sprang up and said, “Which way did your brothers take when they met the Rakshas?” “How can I tell?” she asked. “Why,” he answered, “I thought perhaps you might remember on which side they returned that first night to you, after being bewitched?” “Oh,” she said, “they came toward the tree from that part of the jungle which lies in a straight line behind the palace.” “Very well,” cried Ramchundra, joyfully, “I also will go there, and find out this wicked old Rakshas, and learn by what means they may be disenchanted.” “No, no, my son,” she answered, “I cannot let you go: see, I have lost father and mother, and these my hundred brothers; and now, if you fall into the Rakshas’ clutches as well as they, and are lost to me, what will life have worth living for?” To this he replied, “Do not fear for me, mother; I will be wary and discreet.” And going to his father, he said, “Father, it is time I should see something of the world. I beg you to permit me to travel and see other lands.” The Rajah answered, “You shall go. Tell me what attendants you would like to accompany you?” “Give me,” said Ramchundra, “a horse to ride, and a groom to take care of it.” The Rajah consented, and Ramchundra set off riding toward the jungle; but as soon as he got there, he sent his horse back by the groom with a message to his parents, and proceeded alone, on foot.

After wandering about for some time he came upon a small hut, in which lay an ugly old woman fast asleep. She had long claws instead of hands, and her hair hung down all around her in a thick black tangle. Ramchundra knew, by the whole appearance of the place, that he must have reached the Rakshas’ abode of which he was in search; so, stealing softly in, he sat down and began shampooing her head. At last the Rakshas woke up. “You dear little boy,” she said, “do not be afraid; I am only a poor old woman, and will not hurt you. Stay with me, and you shall be my servant.” This she said not from any feeling of kindness or pity for Ramchundra, but merely because she thought he might be helpful to her. So the young Rajah remained in her service, determining to stay there till he should have learnt from her all that he wished to know.

Thus one day he said to her, “Good mother, what is the use of all those little jars of water you have arranged round your house?” She answered, “That water possesses certain magical attributes: if any of it is sprinkled on people enchanted by me, they instantly resume their former shape.” “And what,” he continued, “is the use of your wand?” “That,” she replied, “has many supernatural powers: for instance, by simply uttering your wish and waving it in the air, you can conjure up a mountain, a river or a forest in a moment of time.”

Another day Ramchundra said to her, “Your hair, good mother, is dreadfully tangled; pray let me comb it.” “No,” she said, “you must not touch my hair; it would be dangerous; for every hair has power to set the jungle on fire.” “How is that?” he asked. She replied, “The least fragment of my hair thrown in the direction of the jungle would instantly set it in a blaze.” Having learnt all this, one day when it was very hot, and the old Rakshas was drowsy, Ramchundra begged leave to shampoo her head, which speedily sent her to sleep; then, gently pulling out two or three of her hairs, he got up, and taking in one hand her wand, and in the other two jars of the magic water, he stealthily left the hut; but he had not gone far before she woke up, and instantly divining what he had done, pursued him with great rapidity. Ramchundra, looking back and perceiving that she was gaining upon him, waved the enchanted wand and created a great river, which suddenly rolled its tumultuous waves between them; but, quick as thought, the Rakshas swam the river.

Then he turned, and waving the wand again, caused a high mountain to rise between them; but the Rakshas climbed the mountain. Nearer she came, and yet nearer; each time he turned to use the wand and put obstacles in her way, the delay gave her a few minutes’ advantage, so that he lost almost as much as he gained. Then, as a last resource, he scattered the hairs he had stolen to the winds, and instantly the jungle on the hill side, through which the Rakshas was coming, was set in a blaze; the fire rose higher and higher, the wicked old Rakshas was consumed by the flames, and Ramchundra pursued his journey in safety until he reached his father’s palace. Draupadi Bai was overjoyed to see her son again, and he led her out into the garden, and scattered the magic water on the hundred black crows, which instantly recovered their human forms, and stood up one hundred fine, handsome young men.

Then were there rejoicings throughout the country, because the Ranee’s brothers had been disenchanted; and the Rajah sent out into all neighboring lands to invite their Rajahs and Ranees to a great feast in honor of his brothers-in-law.

Among others who came to the feast was the Rajah Draupadi Bai’s father, and the twelve wicked Ranees his wives.

When they were all assembled, Draupadi arose, and said to him, “Noble sir, we had looked to see your wife Guzra Bai with you. Pray you tell us wherefore she has not accompanied you.” The Rajah was much surprised to learn that Draupadi Bai knew anything about Guzra Bai, and he said, “Speak not of her: she is a wicked woman; it is fit that she should end her days in prison.” But Draupadi Bai and her husband, and her hundred brothers, rose and said, “We require, O Rajah, that you send home instantly and fetch hither that much injured lady, which, if you refuse to do, your wives shall be imprisoned, and you ignominiously expelled this kingdom.”