She replied, “I desire nothing of the kind: of jewels and rich stuffs I have more than enough, but you shall give me your pretty little parrot; I like it much, and that is the only payment I will take.”
The merchant felt very much vexed, for he had never thought the Nautch girl would ask for the parrot which he was so fond of, and which had been so profitable to him; he felt he would rather have parted with anything he possessed than that; nevertheless, having promised, he was bound to keep his word, so, with many tears, he went to fetch his favorite. But Polly cried, “Don’t be vexed, master; give me to the girl; I can take good care of myself.”
So Champa Ranee took Vicram Maharajah Parrot home with her; and no sooner did she get there than she sent for one of her maids, and said, “Quick, take this parrot and boil him for my supper; but first cut off his head and bring it to me on a plate, grilled; for I will eat it before tasting any other dish.”
“What nonsensical idea is this of our mistress,” said the maid to another, as she took the parrot into the kitchen; “to think of eating a grilled parrot’s head!” “Never mind,” said the other; “you’d better prepare it as she bids you, or she’ll be very cross.” Then the maid who had received the order began plucking the long feathers out of Vicram Maharajah’s wings, he all the time hanging down his head, so that she thought he was dead. Then, going to fetch some water in which to boil him, she laid him down close to the place where they washed the dishes. Now, the kitchen was on the ground floor, and there was a hole right through the wall, into which the water used in washing the dishes ran, and through which all the scraps, bones, peelings and parings were washed away after the daily cooking; and in this hole Vicram Maharajah hid himself, quick as thought.
“Oh dear! oh dear!” cried the maid when she returned. “What can I do? what will my mistress say? I only turned my back for one moment, and the parrot’s gone.” “Very likely,” answered the other maid, “some cat has taken it away. It could not have been alive, and flown or run away, or I should have seen it go; but never fear, a chicken will do very well for her instead.”
Then they took a chicken and boiled it, and grilled the head and took it to their mistress; and she ate it, little bit by little bit, saying as she did so—
“Ah, pretty polly! so here’s the end of you! This is the brain that thought so cunningly and devised my overthrow! this is the tongue that spoke against me! this is the throat through which came the threatening words! Aha! who is right now, I wonder?”
Vicram, in the hole close by, heard her and felt very much alarmed; for he thought, “If she should catch me after all!” He could not fly away, for all his wing feathers had been pulled out; so there he had to stay some time, living on the scraps that were washed into the hole in the washing of the plates, and perpetually exposed to danger of being drowned in the streams of water that were poured through it. At last, however, his new feathers were sufficiently grown to bear him, and he flew away to a little temple in the jungle some way off, where he perched behind the idol.
It happened that Champa Ranee used to go to that temple, and he had not been there long before she came there to worship her idol.
She fell on her knees before the image, and began to pray. Her prayer was that the god would transport her body and soul to heaven (for she had a horror of dying), and she cried, “Only grant my prayer—only let this be so, and I will do anything you wish—anything—anything.”