The Deaf Man said to the Blind Man: “Brother, here are a Donkey and a Dhobee’s great big chattee, with nobody to own them! Let us take them with us—they may be useful to us some day.” “Very well,” said the Blind Man; “we will take them with us.” So the Blind Man and the Deaf Man went on their way, taking the Donkey and the great big chattee with them. A little farther on they came to an ant’s nest, and the Deaf Man said to the Blind Man: “Here are a number of very fine black ants, much larger than any I ever saw before. Let us take some of them home to show our friends.” “Very well,” answered the Blind Man; “we will take them as a present to our friends.” So the Deaf Man took a silver snuff-box out of his pocket, and put four or five of the finest black ants into it; which done, they continued their journey.
But before they had gone very far a terrible storm came on. It thundered and lightened and rained and blew with such fury that it seemed as if the whole heavens and earth were at war. “Oh dear! oh dear!” cried the Deaf Man, “how dreadful this lightning is! Let us make haste and get to some place of shelter.” “I don’t see that it’s dreadful at all,” answered the Blind Man; “but the thunder is very terrible; we had better certainly seek some place of shelter.”
Now, not far off was a lofty building, which looked exactly like a fine temple. The Deaf Man saw it, and he and the Blind Man resolved to spend the night there; and having reached the place, they went in and shut the door, taking the Donkey and the great big chattee with them. But this building, which they mistook for a temple, was in truth no temple at all, but the house of a very powerful Rakshas;[[7]] and hardly had the Blind Man, the Deaf Man, and the Donkey got inside and fastened the door, than the Rakshas, who had been out, returned home. To his surprise, he found the door fastened and heard people moving about inside his house. “Ho! ho!” cried he to himself, “some men have got in here, have they? I’ll soon make mince-meat of them.” So he began to roar in a voice louder than the thunder, and to cry: “Let me into my house this minute, you wretches; let me in, let me in, I say,” and to kick the door and batter it with his great fists. But though his voice was very powerful, his appearance was still more alarming, insomuch that the Deaf Man, who was peeping at him through a chink in the wall, felt so frightened that he did not know what to do. But the Blind Man was very brave (because he couldn’t see), and went up to the door and called out: “Who are you, and what do you mean by coming battering at the door in this way and at this time of night?”
[7]. A kind of ogre.
“I’m a Rakshas,” answered the Rakshas angrily, “and this is my house. Let me in this instant or I’ll kill you.” All this time the Deaf Man, who was watching the Rakshas, was shivering and shaking in a terrible fright, but the Blind Man was very brave (because he couldn’t see), and he called out again: “Oh, you’re a Rakshas, are you? Well, if you’re Rakshas, I’m Bakshas; and Bakshas is as good as Rakshas.” “Bakshas!” roared the Rakshas. “Bakshas! Bakshas! What nonsense is this? There is no such creature as a Bakshas!” “Go away,” replied the Blind Man, “and don’t dare to make any further disturbance, lest I punish you with a vengeance; for know that I’m Bakshas, and Bakshas is Rakshas’s father.” “My father?” answered the Rakshas. “Heavens and earth! Bakshas, and my father! I never heard such an extraordinary thing in my life. You my father; and in there! I never knew my father was called Bakshas!”
“Yes,” replied the Blind Man; “go away instantly, I command you, for I am your father Bakshas.” “Very well,” answered the Rakshas (for he began to get puzzled and frightened); “but if you are my father, let me first see your face.” (For he thought: “Perhaps they are deceiving me.”) The Blind Man and the Deaf Man didn’t know what to do; but at last they opened the door a very tiny chink and poked the Donkey’s nose out. When the Rakshas saw it he thought to himself: “Bless me, what a terribly ugly face my father Bakshas has!” He then called out: “O father Bakshas, you have a very big, fierce face; but people have sometimes very big heads and very little bodies. Pray let me see your body as well as head before I go away.” Then the Blind Man and the Deaf Man rolled the great, big Dhobee’s chattee with a thundering noise past the chink in the door, and the Rakshas, who was watching attentively, was very much surprised when he saw this great black thing rolling along the floor, and he thought: “In truth, my father Bakshas has a very big body as well as a big head. He’s big enough to eat me up altogether. I’d better go away.” But still he could not help being a little doubtful, so he cried: “O Bakshas, father Bakshas! you have indeed got a very big head and a very big body; but do, before I go away, let me hear you scream,” for all Rakshas scream fearfully. Then the cunning Deaf Man (who was getting less frightened) pulled the silver snuff-box out of his pocket, and took the black ants out of it, and put one black ant in the Donkey’s right ear, and another black ant in the Donkey’s left ear, and another and another. The ants pinched the poor Donkey’s ears dreadfully, and the Donkey was so hurt and frightened he began to bellow as loud as he could: “Eh augh! eh augh! eh augh! augh! augh!” and at this terrible noise the Rakshas fled away in a great fright, saying: “Enough, enough, father Bakshas! the sound of your voice would make the most refractory obedient.” And no sooner had he gone than the Deaf Man took the ants out of the Donkey’s ears, and he and the Blind Man spent the rest of the night in peace and comfort.
Next morning the Deaf Man woke the Blind Man early, saying: “Awake, brother, awake; here we are indeed in luck! The whole floor is covered with heaps of gold and silver and precious stones.” And so it was, for the Rakshas owned a vast amount of treasure, and the whole house was full of it. “That is a good thing,” said the Blind Man. “Show me where it is and I will help you to collect it.” So they collected as much treasure as possible and made four great bundles of it. The Blind Man took one great bundle, the Deaf Man took another, and, putting the other two great bundles on the Donkey, they started off to return home. But the Rakshas, whom they had frightened away the night before, had not gone very far off, and was waiting to see what his father Bakshas might look like by daylight. He saw the door of his house open and watched attentively, when out walked—only a Blind Man, a Deaf Man, and a Donkey, who were all three laden with large bundles of his treasure. The Blind Man carried one bundle, the Deaf Man carried another bundle, and two bundles were on the Donkey.
The Rakshas was extremely angry, and immediately called six of his friends to help him kill the Blind Man, the Deaf Man, and the Donkey, and recover the treasure.
The Deaf Man saw them coming (seven great Rakshas, with hair a yard long and tusks like an elephant’s), and was dreadfully frightened; but the Blind Man was very brave (because he couldn’t see), and said: “Brother, why do you lag behind in that way?” “Oh!” answered the Deaf Man, “there are seven great Rakshas with tusks like an elephant’s coming to kill us! What can we do?” “Let us hide the treasure in the bushes,” said the Blind Man; “and do you lead me to a tree; then I will climb up first, and you shall climb up afterward, and so we shall be out of their way.” The Deaf Man thought this good advice; so he pushed the Donkey and the bundles of treasure into the bushes, and led the Blind Man to a high soparee-tree that grew close by; but he was a very cunning man, this Deaf Man, and instead of letting the Blind Man climb up first and following him, he got up first and let the Blind Man clamber after, so that he was farther out of harm’s way than his friend.
When the Rakshas arrived at the place and saw them both perched out of reach in the soparee-tree, he said to his friends: “Let us get on each other’s shoulders; we shall then be high enough to pull them down.” So one Rakshas stooped down, and the second got on his shoulders, and the third on his, and the fourth on his, and the fifth on his, and the sixth on his; and the seventh and the last Rakshas (who had invited all the others) was just climbing up when the Deaf Man (who was looking over the Blind Man’s shoulder) got so frightened that in his alarm he caught hold of his friend’s arm, crying: “They’re coming, they’re coming!” The Blind Man was not in a very secure position, and was sitting at his ease, not knowing how close the Rakshas were. The consequence was, that when the Deaf Man gave him this unexpected push, he lost his balance and tumbled down on to the neck of the seventh Rakshas, who was just then climbing up. The Blind Man had no idea where he was, but thought he had got on to the branch of some other tree; and, stretching out his hand for something to catch hold of, caught hold of the Rakshas’s two great ears, and pinched them very hard in his surprise and fright. The Rakshas couldn’t think what it was that had come tumbling down upon him; and the weight of the Blind Man upsetting his balance, down he also fell to the ground, knocking down in their turn the sixth, fifth, fourth, third, second, and first Rakshas, who all rolled one over another, and lay in a confused heap at the foot of the tree together.