Tale XXI.
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, the Siddhî-kür as they went along told him this tale, saying,—
How the Widow saved her Son’s Life[1].
Long ages ago there lived in Chara Kitad[2], which lieth to the east of India, a king named Daibang[3], who had one only son. But this son never showed himself to the people. No one in the whole empire had once set his eyes on him. Every day he sent and fetched a handsome youth of the people to come and comb his hair for him, and immediately that he had made an end of combing him he had him put to death. Every day one. This went on for many years, and no one dared to withhold their son from the king’s command. At last it came to the turn of a youth who was a widow’s son. The widow, therefore, full of anguish at the thought of her son, her eldest stay and consolation, being taken from her and slain, made cakes of dough kneaded with her own milk, and gave them to her son, saying, “Manage so that while thou art combing the hair of the Khan, he shall eat one of these cakes.”
The widow’s son, therefore, came and stood before the Khan; and as he combed the Khan’s hair with the Khan’s golden comb, he saw that the ears of the Khan were formed like to the ears of an ass, and that it was that his subjects might not know he had ears like to the ears of an ass, that he put to death every day the young men, who, combing his hair, had seen them. Nevertheless, the widow’s son went on combing the Khan’s hair, and eating the cakes his mother had given him the while.
At last the Khan said, “What eatest thou?”
And he answered, “Cakes kneaded of rice-flour and milk; such cakes do I eat.”
And when the Khan asked for some to taste, he gave him one, and the Khan ate it. When the Khan had eaten the cake, he said, “The scent and the flavour of these cakes is good. How are they composed? tell me.”