In a certain country there was a King, it is said. This King’s palace having been dug into by three dexterous thieves, they stole and got the goods.
Having seized these very three robbers, for the purpose of effecting their trial they brought them into the presence of the King. When the King asked these three robbers if they committed the robbery or not, they said that they committed the robbery. “If you thus committed the robbery are ye guilty or not guilty persons?” he asked. Thereupon they gave notice that they were not guilty persons.
When he asked, “How is that?” [they said that], as it was easy for them to dig into [the wall], because when the mason built the palace the mortar had been put in loosely, the mason was the guilty person owing to his doing that matter.
Thereupon the King having summoned the mason, when he asked him whether, because he put in the mortar loosely, he was guilty or not guilty, he gave notice that he was not guilty.
When he asked again, “How is that?” the mason said thus, “I had appointed a labourer to mix the lime. Owing to his inattention when doing it the mortar had become loose. Because of that, the labourer is the guilty person,” the mason said.
Thereupon having summoned the said labourer, he asked him whether because he put the mortar in loose (i.e., improperly mixed) he was guilty or not guilty. Then he gave notice that he was not the guilty person. How is that? While he was staying mixing the lime, having seen a beautiful woman going by that road, because his mind became attached to her the work became neglected. The labourer said that the woman was the guilty person.
Thereupon having summoned the woman, just as before he asked whether, regarding the circumstance that having gone by that road she caused the neglect of the labourer’s work, she was guilty or not guilty. She, too, said that she was not guilty. Why was that? A goldsmith having promised some of her goods, through her going to fetch them because he did not give them on the [appointed] day, this fault having occurred owing to her doing this business, the goldsmith was the guilty person.
Thereupon having summoned the goldsmith, when he asked him just as before he was not inclined to give any reply. Because of that, the King, having declared the goldsmith the guilty person, commanded them to kill the goldsmith by [causing him to be] gored by the tusk of the festival tusk elephant. He ordered them to kill this goldsmith, having set him against a large slab of rock, and causing the tusk elephant to gore him through the middle of the belly.
Well then, when the executioner was taking the goldsmith he began to weep. When [the King] asked him why that was, the goldsmith said thus, “Two such shining clean tusks of the King’s festival tusk elephant having bored a hole through my extremely thin body and having struck against the stone slab, will be broken. Because of sorrow for that I wept,” he gave answer.
“What is proper to be done concerning it?” the King asked.
Then the goldsmith says, “In the street I saw an extremely great-bellied Tambi. If in the case of that Tambi, indeed, the tusk elephant gore the belly, no wound will occur to the two tusks,” the goldsmith said.
Thereupon the King having summoned the great-bellied Tambi, caused the tusk elephant to gore him through his belly.
The goldsmith and the whole of the aforesaid [persons] went away in happiness.
Western Province.
In The Indian Antiquary, vol. xx, p. 78, a South-Indian variant was given by Naṭēśa Sāstrī. In order to commit robbery, a thief made a hole through a wall newly built of mud which slipped down on his neck and killed him. His comrade found the body, and reported that the owner of the house had murdered him. The owner blamed the cooly who built the wall; he blamed the cooly who used too much water in mixing the mud; he attributed it to the potter’s making too large a mouth for the water-pot; he blamed a dancing-girl for passing at the time and distracting his attention. She in turn laid the blame on a goldsmith who had not re-set in time a jewel which she gave him; he blamed a merchant who had not supplied it in time, though often demanded. He being unintelligent could offer no excuse, and was therefore impaled for causing the thief’s death.
In a certain country, a woman without a husband in marriage bore a son, it is said. At that time the men living in the neighbourhood having come, asked the woman, “Who is thy husband?” Then the woman replied, “My husband is Mārayā.”1
Mārayā having heard this word and being much pleased, thought, “I must get this woman’s son into a successful state.”
Having thought thus, after some time had gone, speaking to the son Mārayā said thus, that is to say, “Become a Vedarāla. I will give you one medicine only. Should I stay at the head side of any sick person, by giving the sick person the medicine the sick person will become well. Should I be at the feet side you cannot cure the sick person.” After that, this son having gone from place to place and having applied medical treatment, became a very celebrated doctor.
One day when this Vedarāla went to look at a sick person whom he very greatly liked, Mārayā was at the feet part of the sick person. At that time the Vedarāla having thought, “I must do a good work,” told them to completely turn round the bed and the sick person. Then the head side became the part where Mārayā stayed. Well then, when he had given him the Vedarāla’s medicine the sick person became well.
Mārayā having become angry with the Vedarāla concerning this matter, and having thought, “I must kill him,” Mārayā sat on a chair of the Vedarāla’s.
Because the Vedarāla had a spell which enabled him to perform the matters that he thought [of doing],2 he [repeated it mentally and] thought, “May it be as though Mārayā is unable to rise from the chair.” Having thought thus, “Now then, kill me,” the Vedarāla said to Mārayā.
Well then, because Mārayā could not rise from the chair he told the Vedarāla to release him from it.
Then the Vedarāla said to Mārayā, “If, prior to killing me, you will give me time for three years I will release you,” he said.
Mārayā, being helpless,3 having given the Vedarāla three years’ time went away.
After the three years were ended Mārayā went to the Vedarāla’s house. The Vedarāla having become afraid, did a trick for this. The Vedarāla said to Mārayā, “Kill me, but before you kill me, having climbed4 up the coconut tree at this door you must pluck a young coconut to give me,” he said.
After Mārayā climbed up the coconut tree, having uttered the Vedarāla’s spell the Vedarāla thought, “May Mārayā be unable to descend from the tree.”
Well then, Mārayā, ascertaining that he could not descend from the tree, told the Vedarāla to release him. At that time the Vedarāla, asking [and obtaining] from Mārayā [a promise] that he should not kill him until still three years had gone, having released Mārayā sent him away.
The three years having been ended, on the day when Mārayā comes to the Vedarāla’s house the Vedarāla entered a room, and shutting the door remained [there]. But Mārayā entered straightway (kelimma) inside the room.
Then the Vedarāla asked, “How did you come into a room the doors of which were closed?”
Thereupon Mārayā said, “I came by the hole into which the key is put.”
The Vedarāla then said, it is said, “If I am to believe that matter, be pleased to creep inside this bottle,” he said.
Well then, after Mārayā crept into the bottle the Vedarāla tightened the lid (mūḍiya) of the bottle, and having beaten it down put it away.
From that day, when going to apply medical treatment on all days having gone taking the bottle in which he put Mārayā, he placed the bottle at the head side of the sick person; and having applied medical treatment cured the sick person. In this manner he got his livelihood.
Western Province.
In The Indian Antiquary, vol. i, p. 345, in a Bengal story by Mr. G. H. Damant, a shepherd discriminates a demon from a man whose form he has taken,—living with his wife during the man’s absence,—by boring through a reed, and saying that the true person must be the one who could pass through it. As the demon was passing through it he stopped both ends of the reed with mud, and killed him.
In the South Indian Tales of Mariyada Rāman (P. Ramachandra Rao), p. 43, a husband was returning home on an unlucky day (the ninth of the lunar fortnight), with his wife, who had been visiting her parents. When he left her on the path for a few moments, “Navami Purusha,” the deity who presided over the ninth day, made his appearance in the form of the husband and went away with the wife. The husband followed, and took the matter before Mariyada Rāman. The judge got a very narrow-necked jug prepared, and declared that he would give her to the claimant who could enter and leave the jug without damaging it or himself. When the deity did it the judge made obeisance to him, and was informed that the man’s form had been taken by him to punish him for travelling on an unlucky day against the Purōhita’s advice.
In Folk-Tales of Bengal (Day), p. 182, when a Brāhmaṇa returned home after some years’ absence he was turned away by a person of his own appearance, and the King could not decide the matter. A boy elected as King by others in their play offered to settle it, and producing a narrow-mouthed phial stated that the one who entered it should have judgment in his favour. When the ghost transformed himself into “a small creature like an insect” and crept inside, the boy corked it up and ordered the Brāhmaṇa to throw it into the sea and repossess his home. The first part resembles a story in the Kathākoça (Tawney), p. 41, the interloper being a deity in it.
In the well-known tale in the Arabian Nights (Lady Burton’s ed., vol. i, p. 33), the receptacle in which the Jinni was imprisoned was “a cucumber-shaped jar of yellow copper” or brass, closed by a leaden cap stamped with the seal-ring of Solomon. In vol. iii, p. 54, and vol. iv, p. 32, other Ifrits were enclosed in similar jars made of brass, sealed with lead.
1 Māra, the God of Death, or Death personified. ↑
2 Compare the Kala spell in No. 245 of this vol., and the notes, p. 342, vol. ii. and p. 70 in this vol. ↑
3 Baeri taena, in a position of inability [to do anything]. ↑
4 Baḍa gālā, that is, by clasping his arms round it and rubbing his body on it, as he “swarmed” up it. ↑
At a city there was a very rich Heṭṭi young man. During the time when he was [there], they brought a bride2 for the young man. What of their bringing her! The Heṭṭi young man was [engaged] in giving goods to many ships. Because of it, while the bride3 married (lit., tied) to the Heṭṭi young man was staying at home, the Heṭṭiyā went to give goods to ships. Having gone, [before his] coming back about six months passed.
At that time, [while he was absent], the Heṭṭi girl who was married [to him] one day went to the well to bring [water]. When she was going, a beard-cutting Barber man having stayed on the path and seen this beautiful woman, laughed. Thereupon the woman, not looking completely on that hand, looked at him with the roguish eye (hora aehin), and went to the village.
On the following day also, the Barber having come, just as before laughed. At that time also the woman, just as before, looked with the roguish eye, and went away.
The woman on the following day also came in order to go for water. That day also, the Barber having stayed on the path laughed. That day the woman having spoken to the Barber, asked, “What did you laugh for when I was coming? Why?”
The Barber said, “I did not laugh at anything whatever but because of the affection which you caused.”
Thereupon the woman asked, “Were you inclined to come with me?” The Barber said, “Yes.”
Then this woman said, “If you come, you cannot come in that way.4 The Great King having gone, after the Second King has come to Ceylon (Seyilama), after jasmine flowers have blossomed without [being on] creepers, having cut twenty, having stabbed thirty persons, having pounded three persons into one, when two dead sticks are being kneaded into one having mounted on two dead ones, should you come you can talk with me.”
Thereupon the Barber went home, and grief having bound him because he could not do [according to] the words which this woman said, he remained unable to eat cooked rice also.
At that time the Barber woman asked, “What are you staying [in this way] for, not eating cooked rice, without life in your body?”
The Barber said, “I thought of taking in marriage such and such a Heṭṭi woman. Owing to it the Heṭṭi woman said, ‘When the Great King has gone, when the Second King has come to Ceylon, when the flower of the creeperless jasmine has blossomed, having cut twenty, having stabbed thirty, having pounded three persons into one, when two dead sticks are becoming knocked into one, come mounted on the back of two dead ones.’ Because I cannot do it I remain in grief.”
Thereupon the Barber woman said, “Indō! Don’t you get so much grief over that. For it, I will tell you an advice. ‘The Great King having gone, when the Second King came to Ceylon,’ meant (lit., said), when the sun has set and when the moon is rising. ‘When the creeperless jasmine flower is blossoming,’ meant, when the stars are becoming clear. ‘Having cut twenty,’ meant, having cut the twenty finger [and toe] nails. ‘Having stabbed thirty,’ meant, having well cleaned the teeth (with the tooth-stick), to wash them well. ‘Having pounded three persons into one,’ meant, having eaten a mouthful of betel (consisting of betel leaf, areka-nut, and lime) you are to come. [These] are the matters she said.5 Because of it, why are you staying without eating? If you must go, without getting grieved go in this manner, and come back.”
Thereupon the Barber having gone in that manner, while he was there yet two [other] persons heard that those two are talking. When they heard—there is a custom in that country. The custom indeed is [this]: There is a temple [kōvila] in the country. Except that they give [adulterers, or perhaps only offenders against caste prohibitions in such cases as this?] as demon offerings (bili) for the temple, they do not inflict a different punishment [on them]. Because of it, seizing these two they took them for the purpose of giving [them as] demon offerings for the temple.
This Barber woman, learning about it, in order to save her husband undertook the charge of the food offering6 for the temple, and went to the temple taking rice and coconuts. Having gone there, and said that they were for the kapuwā7 (priest) of the temple, she came away calling her husband, too.
Then to that Heṭṭi woman this Barber woman [said], “Having said that you are cooking the food offering (pusē) which I brought, stay at the temple until the time when the Heṭṭirāla comes. The deity will not take you as the demon offering (billa).8 Your husband having come back will seek and look [for you]. When he comes seeking, say, ‘I having married my husband, he went away now six months ago. Because of it, having told my husband to come I undertook the charge for [cooking] the food offering.9 Just as I was undertaking the charge he came. Because of it, not having seen the face of my lord (himiyā), paying respect to the deity I came to cook the food offering.’ Continue to say this.”
Thereupon the Heṭṭi woman having done in that very manner, the Heṭṭiyā came. Well then, she having made the woman [appear] a good woman, [her husband], taking charge of her, came calling her to the house, and she remained [there] virtuously (hon̆da seyin).
This story was related by a woman in the North-central Province, to a man whom I sent to write down some stories at a village at which I had been promised them. Her name, given as Sayimanhāmī (Lady Simon), and expressions she used, show that she probably belonged originally to the Western Province.
It is difficult to understand how the condemned persons escaped. The interesting fact of the tale is the reference to the presentation of human offerings at a temple devoted to either one of the demons or the goddess Kālī. The Sinhalese expression, deviyan wahansē, deity, given in the text, might be applied to either.
In the Kathā Sarit Sāgara (Tawney), vol. i, p. 91, it is related in one story that “whenever a man is found at night with another man’s wife, he is placed with her within the inner chamber of the Yaksha’s (Maṇibhadra) temple.” In the morning the man was punished by the King; the country in which this occurred is not stated, but it was far from Tāmraliptā. When a merchant and a woman were so imprisoned, the merchant’s wife, hearing of it, went at night with offerings, and was permitted to enter. She changed clothes with the woman, and sent her out; and in the morning, as the woman in the temple was found to be the merchant’s own wife, the King dismissed the case, and freed the merchant “as it were from the mouth of death.” Thus the usual punishment appears to have been death, as in the Sinhalese tale.
1 Prayōga parannāwanta ga͞enī. ↑
2 Man̆gulak, a word which usually means a [wedding] feast, but is often used in the villages to signify the bride. ↑
3 Kasādē, literally “marriage,” here also used to signify the bride. ↑
4 That is, merely because he was inclined to go. ↑
5 The narrator omitted to make the woman explain the last two cryptic sayings. The final one, that he was to go mounted on the back of two dead ones, of course means that he was to wear a pair of shoes or sandals. ↑
6 Puseka, also pusē later on. Doubtless this is the Tamil pūsei (Skt. pūja), one meaning of which is food given as a religious offering. Puseka is puse + eka, one, used in such instances to express the definite article, as in kōṭeka, the coat. ↑
7 Kapiwaṭa in the text. The meaning is uncertain, kapi being a monkey, a sacred animal at Hindu temples. ↑
8 Perhaps because she would acquire sanctity through cooking the consecrated food. ↑
In a certain country there was a man called Mātalānā, it is said. This man was the son of the concubine of the King of that country, it is said. That Mātalānā from infancy was getting his living by committing robbery.
Having been committing robbery in this manner, and having arrived at the age of a young man, Mātalānā having spoken to his mother, asked, “Mother, who is our father?”
Thereupon his mother says to him, “Son, thou art not a so-so (esē-mesē) person. The King of this country is thy father.”
When his mother said thus, having said, “It is good. If so, I will do a good work,” he began to steal things belonging to the King. During the time while he is thus committing robbery, the King in various ways having fixed guards, endeavoured to catch the thief, but he was unable to seize him.
Mātalānā getting to know that guard has been very carefully placed at the royal house, without going for robbery to the royal house began to steal the goods belonging to the King that are outside. Thereupon the King, having thought that somehow or other having caught the thief he must put him in the stocks, and having made the guards stop everywhere, caused a carpenter to be brought and said, “Having seized the thief who steals the things that are the King’s property, to make him fast in the stocks make a pair of stocks in a thorough manner. Regarding it, ask for and take the whole of the requisite things from the royal house.”
When the King ordered it, the carpenter, taking all the things suitable for it and having gone, made the stocks. On the day on which they were finished, Mātalānā, having arrived at the carpenter’s house, and having been talking very well [with him], asks the carpenter, “Friend, what is this you are making?”
Thereupon the carpenter says, “Why, friend, don’t you know? These are indeed the stocks I am making for the purpose of putting in the stocks the thief who steals the goods belonging to the King,” he said.
When Mātalānā asked, “Anē! How do you put the thief in the stocks in this,” the carpenter having put his two legs in the two holes of the stocks, to show him the method of putting him in the stocks at the time while he is making them, Mātalānā, having [thus] put the carpenter in the stocks, taking the key in his hand [after locking them], struck the carpenter seven or eight blows, and said, “[After] opening a hard trap remain sitting in it your own self, master,” and saying a four line verse also,1 went away.
On the following day, when the King came to look at the stocks he saw that the carpenter has been put in the stocks. When he asked, “What is this?” he ascertained that the thief named Mātalānā, who is stealing the goods belonging to the King, had come, and having put the carpenter in the stocks and struck him blows went away. Thereupon the King having said, “It is good, the way the thief was put in the stocks!” dismissed the carpenter and went away.
After that, Mātalānā having gone stealing the King’s own clothes that were given for washing at the washerman’s house, at night descended to the King’s pool, and began to wash them very hard. The washerman, ascertaining that circumstance, gave information to the King. Thereupon the King, having mounted upon the back of a horse and the army also surrounding him, went near the pool to seize Mātalānā.
Mātalānā getting to know that the King is coming, the army surrounding him, came to the bank at one side of the pool, carrying a cooking pot that he himself had taken, and having launched [it bottom upwards] and sent it [into the pool], began to cry out, “Your Majesty, look there! The thief sank under the water; [that is his head]. We will descend into the pool from this side; Your Majesty will please look out from that side.”
While he was making the uproar, the foolish King, having unfastened [and thrown down] his clothes, descended into the pool.
Then Mātalānā [quickly came round in the dark, and] putting on the King’s clothes, and having mounted upon the back of the horse, says, “Look there, Bola, the thief! It is indeed he.” When he said, “Seize ye him,” the royal soldiers having seized the King, who had unloosed [and thrown off] his clothes, tied him even while he was saying, “I am the King.” Having tied the King to the leg of the horse on which Mātalānā had mounted, and, employing the King’s retinue, having caused them to thrash him, Mātalānā, in the very manner in which he was [before], having unloosed [and thrown off] the clothes [of the King], bounded off and went away.
After that, the retinue who came with the King having gone taking the [supposed] thief to the royal house, when they were looking perceiving that instead of the thief they had gone tying the King, were in fear of death. The King, not becoming angry at it, consoled his servants; and having been exceedingly angry regarding the deed done by Mātalānā, and having thought by what method he must seize Mātalānā, made them send the notification tom-tom everywhere.
After that, Mātalānā, again arranging a stratagem to steal clothes from the washerman, and preparing a very tasty sort of cakes, hung the cakes on the trees in the jungle, in the district where the washerman washes. Mātalānā, taking in his hand two or three cakes and having gone eating and eating one, asked the washerman for a little water.
Thereupon the washerman asked Mātalānā, “What is that you are eating?”
“Why, friend, haven’t you eaten the Kaeppiṭiyā2 cakes that are on the trees near this, where you wash?” he asked.
Thereupon the washerman says, “Anē! Friend, although I washed so many days I have not eaten cakes of trees of the style you mention that are in this district,” he said.
“If so, please eat one from these, to look [what they are like].”
When he gave it to the washerman, the washerman having eaten the cake and having found much flavour in it,3 says, “Anē! Ōyi! Until the time when I have gone [there] and come [after] plucking a few of these cakes, you please remain here.”
When he said it, having said, “It is good. Because of the heat of the sun I will stay beneath this tree,” Mātalānā, having sent the washerman to pluck the Kaeppiṭiyā cakes and return, [after] tying in a bundle as many of the King’s clothes as there were, went away [with them].
When the washerman comes [after] plucking the cakes, either the clothes or the man he had set for their protection, not being visible, he went speedily and gave information to the King. The King having become more angry than he was before, again employed the notification tom-tom [to proclaim] that to a person who, having seized, gives him this Mātalānā who steals the things belonging to the King, he will give goods [amounting] to a tusk elephant’s load, and a share from the kingdom.
Mātalānā, ascertaining that he sent the notification tom-tom, having stayed on the path and made the notification tom-tom halt, promised: “I know Mātalānā. Within still three months I will seize and give that Mātalānā while in a courtesan’s house.” The notification tom-tom beater, accepting this word, went, and when he gave information to the King, the King, because of the anger there was [in him] with this thief, having become much pleased told him to summon the man to come.
Thereupon, after Mātalānā came to the royal house, when he asked, “In about how many days can you seize and give Mātalānā?” he said, “In about three months I can.”
After that, Mātalānā having been like a friend of the King until three months are coming to an end, one day, at the time when the King is going to the courtesan’s house, he said to the King’s Ministers and servants, “To-day I saw the place where the Mātalan-thief is. In order to seize him [be pleased] to come.”
Summoning in the night time the whole royal retinue, and having gone and surrounded the house of the courtesan, and said [the King] was Mātalānā, there and then also they seized the King. When they seized him in this way, the King through shame remained without speaking. After that, seizing the King and having gone, and having very thoroughly struck him blows, and put him in prison, and kept [him there], in the morning when they looked, just as before they saw that the King had been seized, and struck blows, and put in the stocks.
After all these things, Mātalānā, having again broken into the King’s house, stealing a great quantity of goods, reached an outside district, and dwelt there.
Western Province.
A certain King sent for his Minister and informed him that if he could not tell him next morning five lies so closely resembling the truth that he would believe them, he should be beheaded.
The Minister went home with a sorrowful heart; he refused to eat or drink, and threw himself on his bed. His wife came and inquired the reason for such behaviour. “What has a dying man to do with eating and drinking?” he replied, “to-morrow morning I must die;” and then he told her what the King had said.
His wife answered, “Don’t be afraid; I will tell you what to say to the King;” and she persuaded him to take his food as usual.
She then related to him this story:—In a certain country there were four friends, a carpenter, a goldsmith, an areka-nut seller, and a dried-fish seller. The three latter persons decided to go and trade, and for that purpose they requested the carpenter to build them a ship. The carpenter did so; and understanding that large profits were to be made in other countries, he also decided to join them.
The four men then wished to engage a servant to cook for them on board the ship, but they had considerable difficulty in finding one. At last they met with a youth who lived with an old woman named Hokkī, who had adopted him as her son. The youth was willing to go, and as there was no one at home to take charge of the old woman after he left, it was settled that she should accompany them.
Then they all sailed away, the goldsmith taking a number of hair-pins (koṇḍa-kūru) for sale, and the other traders taking areka-nuts (puwak) and sun-dried fish (karawala). After going some distance the ship ran on a rock and was totally wrecked, and all the party were drowned.
In his next life the carpenter became a Barbet, which bores holes in trees, looking for a good tree with which to build a ship.
The goldsmith became a Mosquito, which always comes to the ears and asks for the hair-pins (kūru-kūru) that he lost.
The dried-fish seller became a Darter, and constantly searches for his dried-fish in the water.
The areka-nut seller became a Water-hen (Gallinula phœnicura), and every morning calls out, “Areka-nuts [amounting] to a ship [-load], areka-nuts!” (a good imitation of the cry of the bird, Kapparakaṭa puwak′, puwak′).
And the cook became a Jackal, who still always cries for his mother, “Seek for Hokkī, seek” (Hokkī hoyā, hoyā, the beginning of the Jackal’s howl).
Next morning the Minister told the story to the King, who fully believed the whole of it. The Minister then explained that it was pure fiction, whereupon the King instead of cutting off his head gave him presents of great value.
Mātara, Southern Province.
One day a Hyæna met a Goat by the way. He tells the Goat, “Before you move from this place you tell me three words which shall all be true, or I eat you.”
The Goat said, “You met me in this place. If you return, [and if] you reach the other Hyænas and tell them, ‘I have met a Goat by the way, but I did not kill him,’ they will say, ‘You are telling a lie.’ ”
The Hyæna said, “It is true.”
The Goat said, “If I get out here myself, if I reach the other Goats at home, and I tell them, ‘I met a Hyæna by the way, but he did not kill me,’ they will say, ‘You are telling a lie.’ ”
The Hyæna said, “It is true.”
He said to him, “The third one is:—If you see us two talking about this matter you are not hungry.”
Then the Hyæna said, “Pass, and go your way. I am not hungry; if I were hungry we should not be here talking about it.”
At a certain city there was a poor family, it is said. In that family there were only a man called Hendrik, a female called Lusihāmī, and a boy called Poḍi-Appu. There was a brother younger than Hendrik, it is said. That person’s name was Juwan-Appu. At the time when the two brothers were getting a living in one house, they having quarrelled, Juwan-Appu in the day time went away into the country.
While the afore-said three persons are getting a living in that way, Poḍi-Appu’s father died. The boy was very young. While Lusihāmī was doing work for hire, her boy got to be a little big. At that time the boy is a boy of the size for walking about and playing.
One day, when the boy went to another house he saw that the children are playing. Having thought, “This boy must go for those games,” he went there. From that day the boy goes for those games daily.
In another city there is a soothsayer. The soothsayer is a very good clever person for bringing hidden treasures, it is said, the city in which the soothsayer stayed not being included in this talk. When he was going looking in the manner of his sooth, it appeared to him that there is an outside city at which is a very great hidden treasure. For taking the hidden treasure it appeared, according to his sooth, that he must give a human demon offering (nara billak). When he looked who is the man for the human demon offering, it appeared, according to the sooth, that he must give for the demon offering Poḍi-Appu, being the son of the aforesaid Lusihāmī.
The soothsayer set off to seek this boy. What did he bring? Plantains, biscuits, lozenges (losinjar); in that manner he brought things that gladden the mind of the child.
Having come to the district in which is the boy, walking to the places where children are playing, when walking in that district while dwelling there, one day having gone to the place where Poḍi-Appu and the like are playing he stayed looking on. Meanwhile, according to the soothsayer’s thought, he had in mind that Poḍi-Appu was good [for his purpose].
Next, the soothsayer having gone to one side, taking his medicine wallet, when he turned over and looked at the book there was mentioned that it was Poḍi-Appu [who should be offered].
Afterwards calling the boy near him he gave him sorts of food. Meanwhile the boy’s mind was delighted. Next, he gave him a little money. To the boy said the soothsayer, “Your father is lost, is it not so?” he asked; “that is I,” the soothsayer said. The soothsayer by some device or other ascertained that the person’s father1 had left the country and gone.
Afterwards the boy, he having told that tale, went home and informed his mother. And the mother said, “Anē! Son, that your father indeed was [here] is true. For this difficult time for us, if that livelihood-bringing excellent person were here how good it would be! You go, and calling that very one return.” Afterwards the boy having gone, came home with the soothsayer.
While both are spending the days with much happiness, one day in the morning he said, “Son, let us go on a journey, and having gone, come; let us go,” he said.
[The boy] having said, “It is good,” with the little boy the soothsayer went away.
Well then, the boy goes and goes. Both his legs ache. The boy says, “Father, I indeed cannot go; carry me,” he said.
Having said, “It is a little more; come, son,” while on the road in that way the boy, being [almost] unable to go, weeping and weeping went near the hidden treasure.
The soothsayer, having offered there things suitable to offer, began to repeat spells. Then the door of the hidden treasure was opened; the path was [there]. He said to the boy, “Son, having descended into this, when you are going along it, in the chamber a standard lamp2 is burning. Without rubbing that kettle (the round body of the lamp) with your body, having removed the lamp and immediately for the light to go out having tilted it from the top, come back bringing the lamp.” Having said [this], he caused the boy to descend inside the hidden treasure [chamber].
The boy having descended, when he looked about the boy had not the mind to come from it. He says, “It will be exactly a heavenly world. I will mention an abridgement of the things that are in it: golden king-coconuts, golden oranges, golden pine-apples, golden mandarin-oranges.” Having told him in that manner, “I cannot make an end of them, indeed,” he said.
The boy, plucking a great many of them and having gone into the chamber as the soothsayer said, placing the lamp on his shoulder came away near the door.
The soothsayer says, “First give me the lamp, in order to get you to the surface.”
The boy says, “I cannot in that way; first take me out,” he says.
In that manner there is a struggle of the two persons there. At the time when they are going on struggling in that way, anger having come to the soothsayer he moved the door, for it to shut. Then the boy having got into the middle of [the doorway] the door shut. The soothsayer went away.
While the boy quite alone is wriggling and wriggling about there, in some way or other again, as it was at first the door of the hidden treasure opened. The boy placing the lamp on his shoulder and having become very tired, [carried away and] put the lamp and book in his house; and because of too much weariness fell down and went to sleep.
The soothsayer went to his village.
Western Province.
This appears to be the first part of the story of Ala-addin, transformed into a Sinhalese folk-tale; but the variant quoted below shows that the general idea is of much older date and of Indian origin. A variant from the Ūva Province is nearly the same, and also ends with the boy’s return home.
In the Kathā Sarit Sāgara (Tawney), vol. i, p. 558, an ascetic induced a King to join him in obtaining a magical sword. Accompanied by the King, the ascetic went at night, and in the King’s words, “having by means of a burnt-offering and other rites discovered an opening in the earth, the ascetic said to me, ‘Hero, enter thou first, and after thou hast obtained the sword, come out, and cause me also to enter; make a compact with me to do this.’ ” The King entered, found a palace of jewels, and “the chief of the Asura maidens who dwelt there” gave him a sword, the possession of which conferred the power of flying through the air and bestowed “all magical faculties.” The ascetic took it from him afterwards, but the King at last recovered it.