SIMLA VILLAGE TALES - 51 illustrated tales from the Indian foothills of the Himalayas E-Book

Anon E. Mouse

• Herausgeber: Abela Publishing
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Herein are 57 enchanting illustrated children's folk tales from Simla, now Shimla, region in the Indian foothills of the Himalayas.  

Here you will find stories like:
Tabaristan,
The Priest and the Barber,
The Fourth Wife is Wisest,
Abul Hussain
Anar Pari,
The Dog Temple,
The Beautiful Milkmaid,
Sheik Chilli Gets Married,
The Enchanted Bird, Music, and Stream and many, many more.
All the tales were recorded using pencil, just as they were told, and as nearly as possible in the words of the narrators, who were village women belonging to the agricultural class of Hindus in the Simla district.
A word of thanks is given to Mr Hallam Murray for his 15 pen and ink illustrations which have brought these unique tales to life.
Himalayan folk-lore, with its beauty, wit, and mysticism, is a most fascinating study, and makes one grieve to think that the day is fast approaching when the honest rugged hill-folk of Northern India will lose their fireside tales under the influence of modern civilisation.
From their cradle under the shade of ancient deodars, beside the rocks, forests and streams of the mighty Himalayan mountains, have Alice Dracott sought to place these tales upon the great Bookshelf of the World before they are lost forever.
Note from the Compiler: The “Simla Village Woman,” whose photograph is reproduced, is a very good type. I found her most gentle and lovable. Her little boy, and last surviving child, passed on during the original production of this book, yet the young mother bore all her grief with a fortitude which was really quite remarkable.
10% of the publisher’s profit will be donated to Charities.
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KEYWORDS/TAGS: Simla, village, folk tales, folklore, fairy tales, children’s stories, bedtime story, young people, YA, myths, legends, Abul, angry, beautiful, beg, Brahmin, brother, Bunniah, children, city, country, daughter, death, enchanting, magical, Fakir, father, forest, maiden, Guru, hills, Himalayas, Hindu, home, horse, husband, India, jackal, King, marry, merchant, money, mother, mountains, oil, One, Palace, people, poor, Prince, Princess, Rajah, river, second, servants, sister, snake, story, thief, tiger, water, wife, Lawsuit, Owl, Kite, Monkey, Dead Man, Ring, Origin Of Death, Real Mother, Princess Soorthe, Bride, Power Of Fate, Old Witch, Forest, Kulloo, Faithful Dog, Story Of Ghose, Vizier’s Son, Rajah’s Son, Bey Huslo, Panch Mar Khan, Rabbit, Barber, Rupa, Bisuntha, Sheik Chilli, Tiger, Jackal, Guana, Black Cow, Wild Geese, Seek, Fortune, Three Wise Men, Barbil’s Son, Rats, Adventures, Legend Of Naldera Temple

Leseprobe

Simla Village Tales

Or, Folk Tales From The Himalayas

By Alice Elizabeth Dracott

Originally Published By

John Murray, London[1906]

Resurrected By

Abela Publishing, London

[2019]

Simla Village Tales

Typographical arrangement of this edition

© Abela Publishing 2019

This book may not be reproduced in its current format in any manner in any media, or transmitted by any means whatsoever, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, or mechanical ( including photocopy, file or video recording, internet web sites, blogs, wikis, or any other information storage and retrieval system) except as permitted by law without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Abela Publishing,

London

United Kingdom

2018

ISBN-13: 978-X-XXXXXX-XX-X

email

[email protected]

Website

Abela Publishing

Dedication

TO THE ONE I LOVE BEST.

A.E.D.

Acknowledgements

Abela Publishing

acknowledges the work thatAlice Elizabeth Dracottdid in compiling and publishing these stories in a time well beforeelectronic media was in use.

Geographic Note

Shimla city, formerly Simla, capital of Himachal Pradesh state, Northwestern India. The city lies northeast of Chandigarh on a ridge of the Himalayan foothills, at an elevation of about 7,100 feet (2,200 metres).

Shimla was built by the British on land they had retained after the Gurkha War of 1814–16 and was used for resting troops. It gained popularity as a summer resort because of its cool climate and scenic setting, and from 1865 to 1939 it served as India’s summer capital. From 1947 to 1953 it was headquarters of Punjab state, until the new capital city of Chandigarh was completed.

Shimla is the terminus of the Kalka–Shimla railway which is a 2 ft 6 in (762 mm) narrow-gauge railway. It traverses a mostly-mountainous route from Kalka to Shimla. It is known for dramatic views of the hills and surrounding villages. The railway was built under the direction of Herbert Septimus Harington between 1898 and 1903 to connect Shimla, the summer capital of India during the British Raj, with the rest of the Indian rail system.

Frontispiece. A Simla Village Woman

From a Snapshot by A. E. D.

Preface

In introducing “Simla Village Tales” to my readers, I wish to acknowledge gratefully the valuable assistance given me by my sister Mabel Baldwin, who, when I was obliged to leave India suddenly owing to nervous breakdown after the terrible earthquake which visited the Punjaub in April 1905, kindly undertook to complete, from the same sources where I had got them, my collection of folk-tales. Twenty excellent stories contributed by her include “Tabaristan,” “The Priest and the Barber,” “The Fourth Wife is Wisest,” and “Abul Hussain.”

Of the down-country tales my husband kindly contributed “Anar Pari,” “The Dog Temple,” “The Beautiful Milkmaid,” and “The Enchanted Bird, Music, and Stream.” Both my sister and my husband can speak the language fluently, and as the former has resided many years in the Punjaub, I am confident that her translations are as literal as my own. All the tales were taken down in pencil, just as they were told, and as nearly as possible in the words of the narrators, who were village women belonging to the agricultural class of Hindus in the Simla district.

I must add a word of thanks to Mr Hallam Murray for his invaluable assistance with the illustrations.

In one or two instances I was asked if I would allow a Paharee man, well versed in local folk-lore, to relate a few stories to me; but, for obvious reasons, I was obliged to decline the offer, for many Simla Village tales related to me by women, and not included in this book, were grotesquely unfit for publication.

The typical Paharee woman is, as a rule, extremely good-looking, and a born flirt; she has a pleasant, gay manner, and can always see a joke; people who wish to chaff her discover an adept at repartee.

The “Simla Village Woman,” whose photograph is reproduced, is a very good type. I found her most gentle and lovable. Her little boy, and last surviving child, has died since the photograph was taken last year, yet the young mother bears all her griefs with a fortitude which is really remarkable.

Himalayan folk-lore, with its beauty, wit, and mysticism, is a most fascinating study, and makes one grieve to think that the day is fast approaching when the honest rugged hill-folk of Northern India will lose their fireside tales under the influence of modern civilisation.

The hurry and rush of official life in India’s Summer Capital leaves no time for the song of birds or scent of flowers; these, like the ancient and exquisite fireside tales of its people, have been hustled away into distant valleys and remote villages, where, on cold winter nights, Paharees, young and old, gather together to hear these oft-repeated tales.

From their cradle under the shade of ancient deodars, beside the rocks, forests and streams of the mighty Himalayan mountains, have I sought these tales to place them upon the great Bookshelf of the World.

A.E.D.

Contents

The Cause Of A Lawsuit Between The Owl And The Kite

A Monkey Objects To Criticism

The Dead Man’s Ring

The Origin Of Death

The Real Mother

The Princess Soorthe

The Snake’s Bride

The Power Of Fate

The Old Witch Who Lived In A Forest

Kulloo, A Faithful Dog

The Story Of Ghose

The Vizier’s Son And The Rajah’s Son

The Rajah’s Son And The Vizier’s Son

Bey Huslo

The Story Of Panch Mar Khan

The Rabbit And The Barber

Rupa And Bisuntha

Sheik Chilli

Sheik Chilli

The Monkey, The Tiger, And The Princess

The Jackal And The Guana

The Story Of The Black Cow

The Brahmin And The Wild Geese

The Four-Gifted Princess

The Man Who Went To Seek His Fortune

Three Wise Men And The King’s Daughter

Barbil’s Son

The Tiger And The Rats

The Adventures Of A Bird

The Legend Of Naldera Temple

The Bunniah’s Wife And The Thief

Who Stole The Ruby?

The Story Of Vickramadit

The Weaver

The Dog Who Was A Rajah

The Fourth Wife Is The Wisest

The Story Of Pir Sab

The Origin Of A River

The Golden Scorpions

The Story Of A Pearl

The Bunniah’s Ghost

Bickermanji The Inquisitive

The Brahmin’s Daughter

Abul Hussain

The Magician And The Merchant

The Snake And The Frog

The Barber And The Thief

The Story Of “Puran”

Tabaristan

The Painted Jackal

The Enchanted Bird, Music, And Stream

The Dog Temple

The Beautiful Milkmaid

A Remedy For Snake-Bite

A Legend Of Sardana

The Story Of “Bunjara Tullao”

The Anar Pari, Or Pomegranate Fairy

List of Illustrations

A Simla Village Woman From A Snapshot By A. E. D.

The Snake’s Bride To Face

“Sukkia, Child Of Dukhia, Will You Marry Me?”

The Power Of Fate

Took Out The Fan And Began To Wave It.

The Old Witch Who Lived In A Forest

“O Tree, Shelter Me!”

Sheik Chilli

“I’ve Lost My Goats, I’ve Lost My Cows!”

The Man Who Went To Seek His Fortune

While He Stood There The Old Fakir Opened His Eyes And Saw Him.

The Story Of Pir Sab

The Old Woman Alone Remained At Home On Account Of Her Feeble Age.

The Bunniah’s Ghost

Could It Be Fancy, Or Did He See A Strange Man Standing Before Him?

The Cause of a Lawsuit between the Owl and the Kite

The owl and the kite once went to law on these grounds. The owl said that she was the oldest creature in the world, and that when the world was first made, she alone existed. The kite objected. He said that he flew in the air and lived in the trees.

To prove which was right they went to law, and the owl pleaded that, since there were no trees at the beginning of the world, the kite was wrong in saying that he had lived in trees. The Judge therefore decided in favour of the owl.

A Monkey Objects to Criticism

A monkey once sat on a tree, shivering with cold, as rain was falling, and a little bird sat in its nest on the same tree; and, as it sat, it looked at the monkey and wondered why a creature with hands and feet like a man should shiver in the cold, while a small bird rested in comfort.

At last it expressed its thought to the monkey, who replied: “I have not strength to build myself a house, but I have strength to destroy yours,” and with that he pulled to pieces the poor little bird’s nest, and turned it out with its young.

The Dead Man’s Ring

A young married woman one night listened to the jackals’ cry, and heard them say: “Near the river lies a dead man; go and look on his finger and you will find a ring worth nine lakhs of rupees.” She therefore rose and went to the riverside, not knowing that her husband secretly followed in her footsteps. Arrived there, she found the dead man, but the ring was difficult to remove, so she drew it off with her teeth.

Her husband, who did not know she had understood and acted upon the cry of the jackals, was horrified, and thought she was eating the flesh of the dead man; so he returned home, and when the morning came, took his wife to her mother, and said: “I have brought back your daughter, and refuse to live with her any longer, lest I come to some evil end.” He gave no reason for having thus said, and returned to his home.

In the evening his wife sat sorrowfully in the garden of her father’s house, and the crows came to roost in the peepul trees; and as they came, they said: “In this place are buried four boxes containing hidden treasure: dig and find it, O my daughter.” The young girl called her parents and told them the message of the crows. At first they laughed, but, after a while, they dug as she directed, and found treasure which enriched the whole family. The girl then explained the story of the dead man’s ring, and her husband gladly forgave her and received her back.

The Origin Of Death

When God first made the world, He took two handsful of ashes and placed them in a corner and hid Himself. These became a man and a woman. God then called the man by name, saying: “Manoo,” and the man replied, “Hoo” instead of “Ha Jee” (Yes Life) respectfully, as he should have done.

For this reason was everlasting life denied him, and where he stood, there were his ashes when he died. Even to this day, if a man should scratch himself, a line of white ash of which he was made is seen. If any man addresses another as “Jee” it is accounted to his good.

The Real Mother

There was once a Rajah who had seven wives; six of these were rich and dwelt in his Palace, but the seventh was poor, and lived apart in a little mud hut by herself. The Rajah had one great sorrow, and that was that he had no children. One day he went out to shikar (or hunt) and saw an old Fakir lying fast asleep. He did not know that the Fakir had been asleep for twelve years; so he pressed his hands and feet, and the old man awoke. Seeing the Rajah sitting beside him, he thought he had been attending him for twelve years, so he said: “What is your wish, my son?” and the Rajah said: “I have no children. I want neither riches nor honour, but a son.” Then the old Fakir gave him his staff, and said: “Go to yonder mango tree and hit it twice, bring away any fruit which may fall to me.”

The first time the Rajah hit the tree only six mangoes fell, and the next time only one; these he carefully carried to the old Fakir, who told him to take them home, and give one each to the Ranees, and they would each have a son.

So the Rajah returned to his Palace, and gave them to his six Ranees, but quite forgot the poor Ranee, who lived apart by herself. The six Ranees did not believe what the old man said, so they just tasted the fruit and then threw it away; but when the poor Ranee heard what had happened, she told her servant to go and look in the drain for any mangoes the others had thrown away, and bring them to her; so the servant brought them, and she carefully ate every one. Three months afterwards she sent for an old nurse, or dhai, who told her that she would soon be a mother.

The Rajah was passing by when he saw the old nurse coming out of the poor Ranee’s hut, so he made enquiries; and, when he heard the news, there were great rejoicings in the Palace. This made the other six Ranees very angry indeed, and they called the old dhai and told her that if, when the child was born, she would promise to kill it, they would give her a great reward. When the day came the wicked old dhai who was in attendance on the Ranee, said: “Ranee, I must blindfold your eyes.” The Ranee consented, and while thus blindfolded, became the mother of six sons and one daughter.

As soon as they were born, the old dhai carried them outside and threw them into a hole in a potter’s field, and there left them to die, while she told the Ranee that she had given birth to a piece of iron! The poor Ranee was terribly disappointed, and so was the Rajah, but they submitted to what they thought was the will of God. But the potter’s wife found the children, and as she was childless, she carried them home and looked well after them, so that they all lived and grew.

This came to the ears of the six Ranees, and they called the old dhai, and said: “What is this we hear? you did not kill the children; they are alive and living in the house of the potter, but if you listen to us and go and kill them, we shall give you all the jewels that we possess.” So the wicked old woman made some sweet chappatis, or hand cakes, and carried them to the well where the children used to play every day. She found them there playing with their toy horse and toy parrot, cheap toys made of clay by their foster-father, the potter, and they were soon tempted to eat her sweets. No sooner had they done this, when all seven fell down and died.

The poor potter and his wife found them thus when they came to search for them some hours later; and, although the woman wept, the man at once set out in search of the old Fakir, and as soon as he found him he told him what had happened. The old Fakir cut his finger and drew some blood: this he gave to the potter, and said: “Go quickly and sprinkle this on the children, and they will live.”

The potter did as he was told, and the children came to life again, and went to live with their foster-parents as before. This also came to the ears of the six cruel Ranees, and they again called the old dhai and told her she must make another attempt to kill the children.

This time she had some difficulty in persuading them to eat her sweets, for they remembered what had happened before; but in the end she succeeded, and left them all lying dead on the ground as before.

The poor potter was quite broken-hearted, and again sought help of the old Fakir. The old Fakir said: “Son, I cannot raise the children to life in the same way a second time, but bring them here to me.”

So he brought them, and the Fakir said: “Dig seven graves, and in the centre an eighth grave for me, and bury us all.” This the potter did, and lo! after a time a mango tree sprang from the grave of each brother, a beautiful rose from the grave of the sister, and a chumpa or very sweet-flowering tree from the grave of the old Fakir.

One day the servants of the Rajah saw these trees, and, being struck with the beauty of the roses, went to gather some; but as they stretched out their hands to do so, the bough raised itself beyond their reach and said: “Brothers, may I let them gather roses?” And the brothers replied: “Ask the old Fakir.” So they asked him, and he said: “None but thy mother may gather roses of thee.”

Much impressed by what had happened, the Rajah’s servants went and told him all they had heard and seen, and forthwith he set out to see the trees. He too tried to gather flowers, but found he could not do so.

Then he remembered the old Fakir and the seven mangoes, and sent at once for his six Ranees, to see if any of them could gather the strange roses. Each tried in turn, and the tree said as before: “Brothers, may I give roses to my mother?” The brothers replied: “Ask the old Fakir;” but the answer was always the same: “These are not to gather roses, they are for thy mother alone.”

On this the Rajah sent for the poor, neglected Ranee, who, as we know, was the real mother; and as soon as she came, the rose branches spread themselves low on the ground, and she was soon covered with beautiful flowers.

When this happened the old Fakir’s grave opened, and he came back to life, and brought the brothers and sisters with him. He told the whole story of the six Ranees’ cruelty, and the old dhai’s wickedness to the Rajah, who forthwith ordered them all to be killed, and lived happily ever after in his Palace, with his seven children, and their mother, the once poor, neglected Ranee.

The Princess Soorthe

Two sisters, the daughters of a Rajah, were betrothed to two Princes, the eldest to a poor man with few followers, the youngest to a rich man with many followers. About eight days before their marriage, the elder called the younger and said: “Sister, we shall not be long together, let me comb your hair for you beside the well;” but in her heart she was jealous of her sister Soorthe, and had it in her mind to kill her, for she did not wish her to marry a rich man.

Now in the well were some frogs, so the elder sister said: “Sister, do you see these frogs? The name of the Rajah you are about to marry is Dhuddoo, or Frog, and you think that he is a man, but he is, in reality, a frog.”

This so alarmed Soorthe that she wrote at once to the Rajah to say she would not marry him, and he replied that he accepted her letter and would marry elsewhere; but he was vexed at the letter, and took good care to come in a grand procession which passed beneath the windows of the Princess.

She did not know it was her former lover passing by, and asked which man in the procession was the Rajah; thus was it explained to her who he really was, and how her elder sister had deceived her, and as she caught sight of him she foolishly thought he had come back for her; so she let herself down with ropes from her window: but only to fall into the hands of some thieves, who took her away, and left her in the forest, where she was found by a Dhobie, or washerman, who sold her to a dancing girl.

This woman taught Soorthe to dance; and, hearing that a Rajah in the vicinity was entertaining a guest, and giving a feast and a nautch, the two set out. This Rajah was entertaining Soorthe’s father, although she did not know of it, and when he recognised his own daughter, who had been brought up in strict purdah, dancing in public, like a common dancing girl, his wrath knew no bounds.

He ordered her nose to be cut off forthwith, and had her turned out of the kingdom. Thus do the innocent sometimes fall victims to the deceit of others, and thus do they follow in the footsteps of evil associates.

The Snake’s Bride

There was once a Rajah, by name Bunsi Lall, who was charmed by a witch, turned into a snake, and lived under ground, but he constantly wished to go above ground and see the world.

So one day he ran away and made himself a house above ground. Now, at this time there was a girl living in that place who had a very cruel stepmother, and this woman made her spend the whole day picking up sticks in the forest. It was there the snake met her, and was struck with her beauty, and one day he said to her: “Sukkia, child of Dukhia (or the one who gives you pain), will you marry me?” But the girl was afraid, for who would marry a snake?

She did not know that the snake was Rajah Bunsi Lall, and that he was only a snake by day, but resumed his human form at night, so she went and told her stepmother all about it; and her stepmother, who did not care what became of the girl, said: “Tell him you will marry him if he fills your house with silver.” This the girl told him, and he readily agreed.

Next day, when her stepmother opened the door, she found her house filled with silver, and readily gave her consent to the marriage; so Sukkia became the snake’s bride, and went to live in his house, where all was comfort and happiness for her.

After some time her stepmother thought she would go and find out whether the girl was still living; and when she arrived at the snake’s house, she found that, contrary to her expectations, Sukkia was both happy and prosperous.

Now the stepmother knew the story of the enchantment of Rajah Bunsi Lall, and also that, if he revealed his name, he would be obliged to return again to his former home under ground; and she advised Sukkia to beg him to tell his name, and not to rest day or night until he had done so.

“Sukkia, child of Dukhia, will you marry me?”

When night came, Sukkia asked her husband to tell her his name; but he implored her not to, as it would bring bad luck to her, yet she persisted in asking, and would not be advised, though he turned himself into a snake and fled before her [...]