Wherefore the Well-and-wise-walking Khan once more took the way of the cool grove; and having brought thence the Siddhî-kür bound in his bag, and having eaten of his cake that never diminished, to strengthen him for the journey, as they went along the Siddhî-kür told him this tale, saying,—
Bhixu Life.
Long ages ago there lived in a country in the north of India, namely Nepaul, on the banks of a river named the Hiranjâvati[1], an old man and his old wife, who had no sons, but only one daughter. But this one daughter was all in all to them; and they had only one care in life, and that care was, how to establish her safely and well, that she might not be left alone in the world when they were on it no more. Nevertheless, though the maiden was fair to see, and wise and prudent in her ways, and though her parents had laid by a rich dowry for her portion, it so chanced that no one offered to marry her. Yet the years went by, and the man and his wife were both growing old, and they said, “If we marry her not now, soon will she be left all alone in the world.”
In a hut at some distance lived another aged couple, who were very poor; but they had one only son. Then said the father of the maiden to her mother, “We must give our daughter to the son of this poor couple for a wife, otherwise she will be left alone in the world.”
So they married the maiden to the son of this poor old couple, and they took him into their house, and he lived together with them.
After a time, the husband felt a desire to return and see his parents; so he took his wife with him, and they went to seek his parents. At home, however, they were not, for they led a Bhixu life, and were gone on a begging expedition through all the tribes; therefore they went on, seeking them. About this time, a mighty Khan had given orders for a great distribution of alms[2]. All that any one asked for, it was given him, whatsoever it might be. Only concerning the measure of rice-brandy distributed to any one person was there any restriction; but of all the rest there was no stint.
The man and his wife therefore came with the rest of the people, and obtained their portion, according to their desire. When all had been well served, and had returned every one to his home, the man said to his wife, “If we would really be rich, and enjoy life, the way to do it is to go round through all the tribes, living on alms. So living, we have all we need desire. Moreover we need stand in no fear of thieves and robbers; our strength will not be brought down by labour by day, nor our sleep disturbed with anxiety by night; in drought and murrain we shall have no loss to suffer, for the herds of which we shall live will not be our own. To travel about ever among new people is itself no small pleasure. Moreover we shall never be vexed with paying tribute of that we have earned with the toil of our arms. If even we go back and take to us the inheritance thy parents promised to us, in how many days would it be all spent, and we become again even as now! But by going from tribe to tribe, living on alms, our store is never diminished, and there is nothing we shall lack[3].”
Thus they lived many months, begging alms and lacking nothing, even as the man had said. Nevertheless, in the midst of their wanderings, a son was born to them. Then said the woman, “These wild tribes among whom we now are, give us nothing but rice-brandy, which is no food for me; neither have I strength to carry the child as he gets older.” And as she knew her husband loved a vagabond life, and could not hear of going to live at home with her parents, she added, “Let us now go see my parents, and beg of them that they give us of their herds an ass, on which the infant may ride withal when we go round among the tribes seeking alms.” To this proposition the man did not say “Nay,” and they journeyed towards the house of the woman’s parents, along the bank of the river Hiranjâvati.
When they arrived at home, they found that the woman’s parents were dead, nor was there the least remnant left of all their possessions: the herds were dispersed, and the flocks had fallen a prey to the wolves and the jackals; nothing remained but a few tufts of wool, which had got caught on the ant-heaps[4]. The wife picked up the tufts, saying, “We will collect all these, and weave a piece of stuff out of them.” But her husband pointed out that, at no great distance, was a plain with many tents, where, by asking alms, they could have plenty of barley and rice, without the trouble of weaving. They continued their way therefore towards the tents; but the woman continued saying, “When we have woven our piece of stuff, we will sell it, and buy a bigger piece, and then we will sell that and buy a bigger; and so on, till we have enough to buy an ass, then we will set our little one on it instead of carrying him. Then perhaps our ass will have a foal, and then we shall have two asses.” “Certainly,” answered her husband, “if our ass has a foal we shall have two asses.” But the child said, “If our ass has a foal, I will take the foal, and will ride him, going about among the tribes, I also, asking alms even as you[5].” When his mother heard him speak thus, she was angry, and bid him hold his peace; she also went to correct him by hitting him with a stick, but the boy tried to escape from her, and the blow fell upon his head and killed him. Thus their child died.
At the time that the woman’s parents died, and the herds were dispersed, and the flocks devoured by wolves and jackals, one only lamb had escaped from the destruction, and had taken refuge in a hole in the ground, where it remained hid all day, and only came out at night to graze[6]. One day a hare came by, and as the lamb was not afraid of the hare, she did not hide herself from him; therefore the hare said to her, “O lamb, who art thou?” And the lamb answered, “I belong to a flock whose master died of grief because his children went away and forsook him; and when he died, the wolves and the jackals came and devoured all his flock, and I, even I only, escaped of them all, and I have hid myself in this hole. Thou, O hare, then, be my protector.” Thus spoke the lamb.