Next time the hunter came by he noticed this, and saying, “Ah, my fine friends, I’ve got you at last,” he, by the help of the creepers, climbed the tree, and set one thousand and one snares of fine thread among the branches; having done which he went away.
That night, when the parrots flew down on the branches as usual, they found themselves all caught fast prisoners by the feet.
“Crick! crick! crick!” cried they, “crick! crick! crick! Oh dear! oh dear! what shall we do? what can we do? Oh, Vicram Maharajah, you were right and we were wrong. Oh dear! oh dear! crick! crick! crick!”
Then Vicram said, “Did I not tell you how it would be? But do as I bid you, and we may yet be saved. So soon as the hunter comes to take us away, let every one hang his head down on one side, as if he were dead; then, thinking us dead, he will not trouble himself to wring our necks, or stick the heads of those he wishes to keep alive through his belt, as he otherwise would; but will merely release us, and throw us on the ground. Let each one when there, remain perfectly still, till the whole thousand and one are set free, and the hunter begins to descend the tree; then we will all fly up over his head and far out of sight.”
The parrots agreed to do as Vicram Maharajah Parrot proposed, and when the hunter came next morning to take them away, every one had his eyes shut and his head hanging down on one side, as if he were dead. Then the hunter said, “All dead, indeed! Then I shall have plenty of nice currie.” And so saying, he cut the noose that held the first, and threw him down. The parrot fell like a stone to the ground, so did the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, the sixth, the seventh, the eighth, the ninth, the tenth, and so on—up to the thousandth parrot. Now the thousandth and first chanced to be none other than Vicram; all were released but he. But, just as the hunter was going to cut the noose round his feet, he let his knife fall, and had to go down and pick it up again. When the thousand parrots who were on the ground, heard him coming down, they thought, “The thousand and one are all released, and here comes the hunter; it is time for us to be off.” And with one accord they flew up into the air and far out of sight, leaving poor Vicram Maharajah still a prisoner.
The hunter, seeing what had happened, was very angry, and seizing Vicram, said to him, “You wretched bird! it’s you that have worked all this mischief. I know it must be, for you are a stranger here, and different to the other parrots. I’ll strangle you, at all events—that I will.” But to his surprise, the parrot answered him, “Do not kill me. What good will that do you? Rather sell me in the next town. I am very handsome. You will get a thousand gold mohurs[60] for me.”
“A thousand gold mohurs!” answered the hunter, much astonished. “You silly bird, who’d be so foolish as to give a thousand gold mohurs for a parrot?” “Never mind,” said Vicram, “only take me and try.”
So the hunter took him into the town, crying “Who’ll buy? who’ll buy? Come buy this pretty polly that can talk so nicely. See how handsome he is—see what a great red ring he has round his neck. Who’ll buy? who’ll buy?”
Then several people asked how much he would take for the parrot; but when he said a thousand gold mohurs, they all laughed and went away, saying “None but a fool would give so much for a bird.”
At last the hunter got angry, and he said to Vicram, “I told you how it would be. I shall never be able to sell you.” But he answered, “Oh yes, you will. See here comes a merchant down this way; I dare say he will buy me.” So the hunter went to the merchant and said to him, “Pray, sir, buy my pretty parrot.” “How much do you want for him?” asked the merchant—“two rupees?”[61] “No, sir,” answered the hunter; “I cannot part with him for less than a thousand gold mohurs.” “A thousand gold mohurs!” cried the merchant, “a thousand gold mohurs! I never heard of such a thing in my life! A thousand gold mohurs for one little wee polly! Why, with that sum you might buy a house, or gardens, or horses, or ten thousand yards of the best cloth. Who’s going to give you such a sum for a parrot? Not I, indeed. I’ll give you two rupees and no more.” But Vicram called out, “Merchant, merchant, do not fear to buy me. I am Vicram Maharajah Parrot. Pay what the hunter asks, and I will repay it to you—buy me only, and I will keep your shop.”