If the names in this tale and variant indicate the heights of the persons, as appears probable, this is the only instance in which dwarfs are mentioned in the Sinhalese folk-tales that I have collected.
In the Saddharma Puṇḍarīka (Kern, S.B.E., vol. xxi, p. 83), mention is made of a form of dwarf demons, “malign urchins, some of them measuring one span, others one cubit or two cubits, all nimble in their movements.”
In Tales of the Punjab (Mrs. Steel), p. 3 (Wide-Awake Stories, p. 7), there is an account of a dwarf who was only one cubit high; he had magical powers. In Sagas from the Far East, p. 39, a demoness in the form of a woman one span high is mentioned (see p. 171). In Folklore of the Santal Parganas (Rev. Dr. Bodding), p. 189, there is an account of a man who was only a span high.
In the last mentioned work, p. 81, two men who were in a tree frightened a Rāja and his attendants by dropping a tiger’s paunch and beating a drum out of which flew a number of bees that they had placed in it. These attacked and drove away the people below, and the men got their goods.
In The Indian Antiquary, vol. xiv, p. 135 (Folklore in Southern India, p. 116), in a Tamil story by Pandit Naṭēśa Sāstrī, a tiger which knew magic took the form of a youth, married a girl who went off with him, and had a son who was a tiger. The girl sent a message to her three brothers, and they went to rescue her, taking an ass, an ant, a palmira tree, and a washerman’s iron tub that they found. They were put in the loft by her. When the tiger told them to speak, one put the ant in the ear of the ass, to make it bray. He then told them to show him their legs and bellies; they held out the palmira tree and the tub, on seeing which he ran off, and they escaped with her.
In Old Deccan Days (M. Frere), p. 229, a blind man and a deaf man when going for a walk found and took with them a washerman’s ass, and the large pot in which he boiled clothes, and also put some large black ants into a snuff-box. They took shelter from a storm in the house of a Rākshasa, and fastened the door. When the ogre tried to enter, saying “I’m a Rākshas,” the blind man replied, “Well, if you’re Rākshas I’m Bākshas, and Bākshas is as good as Rākshas.” The Rākshasa asked to see his face and was shown the donkey’s; he asked to see his head and was shown the pot; he told him to scream, and the ants were put in the ears of the ass, the braying of which frightened the Rākshasa away. When they went off next day with his treasure, he came with six friends to kill them. They climbed up a tree (as in the next variant), the ogres stood on each other’s shoulders to reach them, the blind man lost his balance, fell on the uppermost one, and all tumbled down together. When the deaf man shouted, “Well done; hold on tight, I’m coming to help you,” all the Rākshasas ran away.
The Rākshasīs-eating Prākshasa.[8] (Variant b.)
At a certain village there were a Gamarāla and a Tom-tom Beater. For the Tom-tom Beater there was nothing to eat. Because of it, having gone to the Gamarāla’s house he got a large basket of paddy on loan. While he was eating it the two persons having joined together worked the Gamarāla’s two rice fields.
Out of them, the [rice in the] Gamarāla’s field being of very good quality was well developed; [that in] the Tom-tom Beater’s field was undeveloped. Because of it, the arrangement which the Tom-tom Beater made was thus: “Because I am to give a debt to you, you take my rice field, please, and give me your rice field, please,” the Tom-tom Beater said to the Gamarāla. So the Gamarāla having told him to take it, the Gamarāla took the Tom-tom Beater’s field.