In a spacious great city three Yakās were born. Well then, the three Yakās spoke together: “Let us three Yakās go to the school of the Chief of the Yakā forces (Yaksa Sēnādipotiyā),1 to learn letters.”
After they learnt letters the three spoke together: “Let us go to learn the sciences.” The three having walked along the path came to the travellers’ shed at the place where there are again three paths. The three spoke together. One said, “I will learn the science of killing a man.” One said, “I will learn the science of causing [re-]birth.” The other said, “I will learn to do magic.” In the hand of one Yakā [was] the sword; in the hand of one Yakā, the betel-cutter; in the hand of one Yakā, the axe.
Those three Yakās said, “You go on that path; I will go on this path.” Then the three Yakās go on the three paths. Before they went they said, “When any matter of sickness has happened to a person out of us three, how shall we get to know?”
Then one said, “I will plant a lime tree”; one said, “I will plant a flower tree”; one said, “I will make a flower pool.”2 Well then, saying that should any accident occur to the Yakās the fruit will fall from the lime tree, or the flowers on the flower tree will fade, or the water of the pool will become muddy,3 they went on the three paths.
Having gone on the three paths, when they came to three countries the three summoned three wives, ordinary women (nikan gāēnu). The Yakās taking human appearance, putting on good clothes like men, putting aside the teeth of Yakās (Yak-dat), taking good teeth, the women do not know that the three are Yakās.
After a long time, a man died in the village of the Yakā who planted the lime tree. That Yakā having taken the corpse after they buried it, and having drawn it to the surface, ate it.4
An old thief saw it. Having seen it, on seeing that woman he told her, “In this manner, the man who is in your house in this way eats human flesh,” having seen that woman, he told that. Owing to it, that woman that day got to know that said Yakā is a Yakā. After that she prepared to kill him.
The Yakā’s wife asked, “Where is your life?”
The Yakā said, “In my stomach.”
“No, you are telling lies.”
The Yakā said, “In my breast.”
“That also is false,” she says. “Tell me the truth.”
The Yakā said, “In my neck.”
“It is not there, also,” she says.
At last the Yakā said, “My life is in [the brightness of] my sword.”
Afterwards, placing the sword near his head, he went to sleep. Then this woman having gone, collected a bon-fire (gini goḍak), and quietly taking the sword put it into the hearth. Well then, the woman having come back, when she looked that Yakā was dead.
That eldest Yakā having arisen, when he looked [saw that] the flowers and fruit had all fallen from the lime tree. The Yakā said, “Anē! Bola, there will have been some accident; I must go to look.” Well then, the eldest Yakā having tied up the lime fruits, and come to that Yakā’s country, taking them, when he looked his younger brother was dead. When he sought for that sword it was not [there].
Afterwards, when he looked at the fire heap that sword was in the heap. Well then, taking the limes and having cut them, when he was thoroughly polishing it with the limes that dead Yakā revived (lit., was born). Then the elder Yakā, calling the revived Yakā, came to his [own] house [with him].
A pestilence having stricken the second Yakā, one morning when those two looked the flowers on that planted tree had fallen. Well then, having said, “Appā! Bolan, some accident will have stricken our Yakā,” putting together those flowers also, they went away.
Having gone, and having offered the flowers to the Gods of that country, the disease was cured; and calling that Yakā also, they came to that eldest Yakā’s house.
Having come [there], that eldest Yakā said to one Yakā, “You do loading work, and having loaded cattle get your living.” To the other Yakā he said, “You trade and get your living. I will cultivate,” he said.
Well then, the three taking human appearance, all remained at the city where that eldest Yakā was. That Yakā who loaded sacks [with produce with which he went on trading journeys] was ruined by that very thing, and died.
Then [in the case of] the Yakā who traded [at a shop], an old thief stole all the goods [obtained] by his trading. Out of grief on that account that Yakā died.
That eldest Yakā, doing cultivation and having become abundantly wealthy, stayed at that very city, and abandoned the Yakā appearance.
1 In Cinq Cents Contes et Apologues (Chavannes), vol. iii, p. 115, the King of the demons is called Pāñcika. Professor Chavannes noted that in the Divyāvadāna, p. 447, he has the title Yaksha-sēnāpati, General of the Yakshas. ↑
2 A pool containing lotuses. ↑
3 In The Jātaka, No. 506 (vol. iv, p. 283), the life-index of a serpent King was a pool, which would become turbid if he were struck or hurt, and blood-red if a snake-charmer seized him. In Folklore of the Santal Parganas (Rev. Dr. Bodding), p. 321, the life-index of a cow was some of her milk, which would become red like blood if she were killed by a tigress, as she expected. ↑
4 The narrator explained that this was in early times. He stated that they do not eat human flesh now; it is done only by Rākshasas. ↑
In a certain country there is, it is said, a [man called] Dikpiṭiyā. A [married woman called] Diktalādī is rearing an [adopted] child. While it was [there] no long time, a [female] child was born; to Diktalādī a child was born. On the boy, the [adopted] boy she reared, she put a cloth for ploughing (that is, he grew old enough to plough). After the [female] child grew great and big, [the parents] gave her [in marriage] to that youth whom Diktalādī reared, [and they went to live in another village].
The boy she reared, after no long time went by, seeking oil, honey, flour, and cooking a bag of cakes, and giving them to that woman [his wife, set off with her] in order to go to look at that mother-in-law and father-in-law.
At the time when the two are going together, having seen that much water is going in the river [which it was necessary to cross], both of them became much afraid in mind. Thereupon, when they are staying [there], these two persons, having seen that the one called Dikpiṭiyā was on the opposite bank fishing and fishing, said, “Anē! It is a great hindrance that has occurred to us. Anē! In our hand there is not a thing for us to eat, not a place to sit down at. Should you take us two [across] to that side, it will be charity”; and those two persons make obeisance to Dikpiṭiyā.
Afterwards Dikpiṭiyā, having left his bait creeper1 (fishing-line), came swimming to this side. Having come, “Where are ye two going?” he asked.
“Anē! We are going to look at our mother-in-law and father-in-law.”
Dikpiṭiyā placed the bag of cakes on one shoulder, and placed the woman on the [other] shoulder. Afterwards he crossed, swimming, to that [far] side.
After having crossed to that side [he said to the woman], “What a man that man is! The scare-crow tied in the paddy field! We two are of one sort; let us two go [off together].”
Afterwards, unfastening the bag of cakes [they counted them, and he] having given [some] to the woman, the inferior ones, eating and eating the cakes both of them began to go away.
After that, [when her husband came across and claimed her], Dippiṭiyā having cried out, and dragged her, and obstructed her going with feet and hands, he said, “Having snatched away my wife canst thou strike blows? Come and go [with me]”; and they went for the trial [regarding their rival claims to be the woman’s husband].
Having gone near the King, [and laid a complaint regarding it], the King [finding that both men claimed her], says, “Imprison ye the three of them in three houses.”
Afterwards the King asks at the hand of Dippiṭiyā, “What is the name of thy mother?”
“Our mother’s name is Sarasayu-wirī.”2
“Secondly, how many is the number of the cakes?”
“Three less than three hundred.”
Having caused Diktalādī’s daughter to be brought, he asks, “What is thy mother’s name?”
“Kamalolī” (Love-desiring).
“How many is the number of the cakes?”
“Three less than three hundred.”
After that, [as both agreed regarding the number] he handed over the wife [to him]. Both of them, making and making obeisance, went away.
Potter. North-western Province.
With the exception of the ending, this is the sixth test case which was settled by the wise Mahōsadha, in The Jātaka, No. 546 (vol. vi, p. 163);3 but the variations show that, like some other Sinhalese folk-tales, it is not taken over directly from the Jātaka story, which appears to be one of the latest in that collection.
There was a village, apparently of Vaeddās, called Dippiṭigama, in the North-western Province4; and “the house of the Dippiṭiyās,5 at the village called Koṭikāpola” is mentioned in the story numbered 215 in this volume, related by a Tom-tom Beater. This latter tale apparently contains a large amount of fact, and ends “the persons who saw these [things said] they are in the form of a folk-tale.” Thus there is a possibility that this part of the Jātaka story is derived from a Sinhalese folk-tale of which the Potter’s story gives the modern version.
1 Where bushes or reeds are in the water near the shore, fishing is usually done by means of a baited hook at the end of a short fishing line attached to the extremity of a number of canes tied end to end. These float on the surface of the water, and are gradually pushed forward until the bait is in an open space in the water. ↑
2 “Soft are the six seasons of woman”; but the text is so full of mistakes that it is possible this may be intended for Sarasāyu-wirī, “the bee’s life is delicate,” or Sarāsayu-wirī, “soft are the six seasons of Love.” ↑
3 See also A. von Schiefner’s Tibetan Tales (Ralston), p. 134, in which the names are omitted. ↑
In a certain city there was a thief, Haranṭikayā by name. The thief, together with his father, goes to commit robberies. For a long period, at the time when they are committing robberies at that city not a single person could seize that thief.
One day, the father and son having spoken about breaking in to the box of valuables at the foot of the bed1 of the King of the city, entered the King’s palace. Having entered it, and gone by a window into the kitchen, and eaten the royal food that was cooked for the King, he went into the very room and broke into the box at the foot of the bed; and taking the goods and having come back into the kitchen, he put [outside] the articles he had brought. It was the father who went into the house, and put out the articles. The son stayed near the window, on the outer side.
Well then, the father tries (lit., makes) to come out by the window; [because of the quantity of food he has eaten] he cannot come.2 Thereafter, the father, having put out his neck through the window, told the son to drag him out.
Well then, the son tried hard to drag him out. Because he also could not do it the son cut off the father’s head. Then the thief called Haranṭikā (the son), taking the head and the articles stolen out of the box at the foot of the bed, came home.
Thereafter, having come home he says at the hand of his mother, “Mother, our father was unable to come [out by the window at which he entered the kitchen at the palace]. He endeavoured as much as possible. Because father was unable to come, cutting father’s neck with the knife that was in my hand, [I brought away his head and] I returned here. The theft will come to light. Now then, to-morrow, during the day, having said, ‘Whose is the corpse?’ they will bring it along these four streets. Don’t you either cry out, or lament, or tell about us.” These matters he told his mother.
On the morning of the following day, fixing a noose to the two feet of the dead body, the King ordered the Ministers to take it, and walk [dragging the corpse] along the four streets. Next, he gave orders to the city that everyone, not going anywhere, must remain to observe whose was this dead body. Thereafter, when the Ministers were going along dragging the corpse, the men [and women of the city] remained looking on.
At the time when the wife of the dead man, [on seeing the body] is crying out, “O my husband!” the thief called Haranṭikā, having been in a Murun̆gā tree [in front of the doorway], broke a Murun̆gā branch, and fell to the ground.
Well then, these city people having said, “Who is this who cried out?” at the time when they hear it a part say, “A boy fell from a tree; on that account she is crying out.” Well then, that she cried out on account of this corpse nobody knows. That thief called Haranṭikā was saved by that.
It is owing to that, indeed, they say, “The stratagems which the thief has, even the God Gaṇēśa (the God of Wisdom) does not possess.”
Washerman. North-western Province.
In a certain country there was a very dexterous thief, it is said. This thief had a son and two daughters. These two daughters were wealthy, wearing better silver and golden sorts of things than the women-folk of the other important families of the village.
Well then, because this principal thief’s son was a person possessing divine skill (sura-nuwana), ascertaining that they had become wealthy because of the dexterous character of his father’s robbery, he got into his mind [the notion] to earn the very same livelihood as his father, having become a dexterous thief to the same degree.
When this principal thief was going for robbery it was a custom [of his] to go [after] tying two pairs of small bells on both feet. When the thief’s son asked his mother, “What is the motive for going for robbery, tying on the bells?” she said thus: “Why, son? As though they are not hearing the noise of your father’s pair of little bells, he goes [after] tying on the pair of little bells, having put them on the foot by way of ingenuity, for the purpose of remembering to commit [only] theft.”
Well then, one day, when the father had started to go for robbery, the son also asked his mother [for permission] to go with him. At that time his mother said thus: “Son, because of [your not possessing] your father’s dexterity, at no time are you able, indeed, to get a bare subsistence by doing that for a livelihood. Because of that don’t you try to go.”
On the following day, when the father was going for robbery this son also went without concealing himself, just behind his father. [The father] having dug into a house, when he was becoming ready to enter the house, this son went behind quietly, and cutting off the two pairs of little bells that were on his father’s two feet, came home.
The father, also, perceiving, before entering the house, that some one had cut both pairs of little bells off his two feet, having dropped the doing house-robbery, and having gone running home, from that day remained lying down, without eating, without drinking. When this thief’s wife asked, “Why are you doing that?” the thief says, “After he cut off my two pairs of little bells, which, from the day I was born, for so much time were committing robbery more cleverly than all, well, I shall not go for robbery, and shall not eat, and shall not drink,” he said.
Because the thief’s wife had ascertained that his son had cut off his father’s two pairs of little bells, having said to the thief, “Don’t be grieved,” she told him that his own son cut off the two pairs of little bells. Thereupon the thief was extremely satisfied regarding his son.
Again one day, on the day when there was a feast at the King’s house, the principal thief was ready to go to commit robbery in the royal house. His son also said that he was wishful to go. Thereupon the father said, “Because thou also art a dexterous thief of my own quality, come.” They two having gone, and having dug into the royal palace, while the son remained outside the father went into the house, and having brought gold, silver, pearls, gems, various other things, gave them to his son.
From the time when the father, having dug into the house, entered it, the son said, “Father, however sweet the royal food should be, don’t eat even a little, indeed.” But as soon as the father’s nose perceived the sweet odour of the tasty sorts of food, the father began to eat the royal provisions to the possible extent. Having thus eaten, and having finished, taking also a quantity of goods, when, having filled his belly, [he was] coming to give them to his son, his belly having been filled and having become enlarged, he was unable to creep out by the place which he first dug; and he stuck fast.
Thereupon the son, having gone running to the house, taking also the goods, informed his mother about this; and again having gone to the King’s house, taking a sword also, and having seen that the father having been stuck fast was dead, cutting the father’s neck with the sword he brought home only the head.
On the following day, in the morning having perceived that the goods at the royal house have been stolen, and having caused soothsayers to be brought to find the thief, when [the King] asked the sooth the soothsayers said, “The thief has entered on such and such a side of such and such a store-house, having dug a long tunnel. The thief indeed can be found; the things cannot be found.” Thereupon the King, having made inquiry and when he looked having seen that in the end of the tunnel a man without the head part had become stuck fast, for the purpose of finding who are the relatives whom the man has, and his friends, commanded that during the whole of three days [they were] to walk, bringing the corpse, everywhere in the city.
Well then, as this corpse—the above-mentioned corpse—was coming to pass in front of the house of its owners, the above-mentioned son said to his mother and sisters, “They are now taking our father’s corpse [and are about to pass] in front of our house. Having seen it, don’t anyone of you lament.” This word the mother and sisters accepted. But because this son thinks there is uncertainty if they will lament, having ascended a Murun̆gā tree that was in front of the doorway he remained [there].
At the time when he is thus, as they are taking the corpse in front of the said house, that mother and the sisters, unable to go on restraining their grief, cried out, “Anē! O our father!”3 There and then, the son who was in the Murun̆gā tree, breaking a branch also from the tree jumped down, and was as though dead.
At that time that mother and the sisters, calling out, “Anē! O my son! Anē! O our elder brother!” and having come running, and gone, taking the son, into the house, gave him medicine and began to attend to him. Thereupon the people who were carrying that corpse thought, “They are crying owing to that woman’s son’s having died,” and went away.
By this means the people of the thief’s family, not tasting (lit., eating) death from the King, escaped.
Western Province.
In The Orientalist, vol. i, p. 59, Mr. W. Goonetilleke gave the story as it was related in the Supplement to the Ceylon Observer. The thief passed through a small pre-existing tunnel into the King’s palace, and after feasting inside stuck fast in it on his way back, and ordered his son to cut off his head and escape with it. The youth acted accordingly and threw it in a weighted basket into the river. The rest of the story agrees with those given above.
In the story related by Herodotus (Euterpe, 121, 1) of the robbery of the treasury of King Rhampsinitus, the thief entered by removing a loose stone, laid for the purpose by his father when he was building the treasury. He did not feast inside the palace nor stick fast on his way out, but was caught in a trap laid for him in the treasury. His brother entered, and at his own request cut off his head to save the family reputation. The King hung the body from the wall, and stationed sentinels who were commanded to arrest anyone who wept on seeing it. The brother made them drunk and carried off the corpse by his mother’s orders. After vainly making use of his daughter as a bait for the thief, in the end the King forgave him on account of his cleverness and married his daughter to him.
In the Kathā Sarit Sāgara (Tawney), vol. ii, p. 93, Karpara, one of two thieves, broke through the wall of the palace and entered the room of the Princess. She fell in love with him, but he remained too long, and was arrested and hanged; while being led away he signalled to his friend to carry off the Princess. The friend, Ghaṭa, at night dug a tunnel into the palace, found the Princess in fetters, and brought her away. The King set guards near Karpara’s body to arrest anyone who came to burn the corpse and perform the funeral rites, but Ghaṭa tricked them, lamented over the body, burned it, and threw the remains of the bones into the Ganges. Although the King offered half his kingdom if the thief would reveal himself, Ghaṭa left the country with the Princess. The translator mentioned European and other parallels (pp. 93 and 100).
In A. von Schiefner’s Tibetan Tales (Ralston), p. 39, a weaver went with a clever nephew to break into a house. As he was passing feet foremost through the hole they made, the people inside seized his feet and began to drag him through, so the boy cut off his head and decamped with it. The King ordered the trunk to be exposed at the cross-roads in the main street, in order to arrest anyone who wailed over it. The youth, personating various people, wailed over it as a madman, burned it, presented cakes, and threw the bones into the Ganges. The King then set his daughter at the river bank as a bait, and left a guard near. After sending down a number of floating water vessels the thief covered his head with one, and swam to the Princess, who afterwards had a son by means of whom the King identified the thief, to whom he formally gave the Princess and half the kingdom. In Cinq Cents Contes et Apologues (Chavannes), vol. ii, p. 380, the story is similar.
1 Pāmula peṭṭiya. See vol. i, p. 183, footnote. ↑
2 See vol. i, p. 10, on the small size of modern windows in the villages. ↑
3 A very common exclamation of grief, surprise, or sometimes annoyance. The relative addressed is always either the father, the mother, or the elder brother, in such cases. ↑
In a certain country there was a Gamarāla. The Gamarāla having tried for seven years caught a White Rat-snake. A Dēvatāwā having come by dream told the Gamarāla that when he had eaten the Rat-snake’s head he would obtain the kingship. Having told the Gamarāla’s wife to cook the White Rat-snake the Gamarāla went to wash his head (to purify himself).2
After that, a Tom-tom Beater (Naekatiyek), weaving a cloth, came to the Gamarāla’s house [with it]. The Gama-Mahagē (the Gamarāla’s wife) through stinginess [unwilling] to give meat, gave the Tom-tom Beater rice and that White Rat-snake’s head, not knowing [its property].
The Gamarāla having come [after] washing his head, asked the Gama-Mahagē for the White Rat-snake’s head. Then the woman said, “I gave it to eat, to the Tom-tom Beater (Berawāyā) who came [after] weaving the cloth.” Thereupon the Gamarāla said, “Thou gavest it to thy man! Why? When seven years have gone by from this time he will obtain the sovereignty.”
After the seven years went by, it was commanded to give the kingship to the Tom-tom Beater. But the people of the city said they could not give him the kingship, because he was a Tom-tom Beater. Because, through the act of his eating the White Rat-snake’s head they were unable to avoid giving (nodī) him the kingship, they said, “Let us give him the sovereignty for one paeya (twenty-four minutes). A strong man having shot an arrow aloft, let us give the kingship until it falls to the ground.” Having promised this he shot it.
For thirty years that arrow did not fall to the ground; Śakra held it. After thirty years had gone, the arrow afterwards fell to the ground. The kingship of that King Moṭā-Tissa having been changed that day, again a Prince of the royal line, suitable for the city, obtained the kingship.
After that, on account of the Tom-tom Beaters who were in this Lan̥kāwa (Ceylon) claiming, “We, too, are of the royal line,” the King and the other people, also, having become angry, say, “Can anyone, indeed, construct a Four-fold Trap?” they asked. A smith who knows various expedients (upā-waeḍa), having said, “I can,” constructed a Four-fold Trap.
Inside the Four-fold Trap having placed cakes and milk-rice, the King said, “To the Tom-tom Beaters who are in Ceylon the King will give an eating (feast).” He sent letters to the Tom-tom Beaters to come. They call that one with one mouth (entrance) like the Habaka (a snare-trap) the Four-fold Trap (Hatara-maha Lūla).
Well then, after all the Tom-tom Beaters came, the King says, “All of you go at one time into that house,”3 he said. After that, all the Tom-tom Beaters at one time entered the house. Afterwards the King struck off (gaesuwāya) the Four-fold Trap. Well then, all the Tom-tom Beaters died.
Because one pregnant woman, only, was at the corner (or end, assē), the woman’s neck having been caught she died. As ten months had fully gone, the infant was brought forth outside. Thereafter, at the time when the Gamarāla, and the King of the city, and the Washerman who washes the clothes are going near the Four-fold Trap, an infant was crying and crying. Afterwards the Gamarāla and the Washerman (Radā minihā) having gone away carrying the infant, reared it.
After not much time, the King having died another Prince obtained the kingship. For the purpose of making [his accession to] the sovereignty public to the world, he told them to beat on the double kettle-drum. Although all the people of the country beat on the double kettle-drum the sound did not spread. The King asked, “Who must beat it for the sound of this to spread?”
Then the people say, “Should a Tom-tom Beater beat, indeed, the sound of this will spread.”
Thereupon the King asks, “Are there not Tom-tom Beaters in this city?”
Then the people say, “In the time of such and such a King, having constructed the Four-fold Trap he killed all the Tom-tom Beaters.”
The King asked, “Because of what circumstance did he kill them in that way?”
Well then, these people [said], “Previously one of them called Moṭā-Tissa was a King. Well then, because of their arrogance, the King who next obtained the sovereignty, having prepared a Four-fold Trap, killed them all.” They told the King all the matters that occurred.
After that, the King made public that he will give gold [amounting] to a tusk elephant’s load to a person who should find and give him a Tom-tom Beater.
Then the Gamarāla [and Washerman] having spoken to the King:—“We will give a Tom-tom Beater,” gave him that youth whom they had reared. Well then, the King having caused the youth to dress well, having decorated a tusk elephant, and placed the youth on the back of the tusk elephant, caused the proclamation tom-tom to be beaten by means of the youth.
The youth does not know anything whatever of beating. The Gamarāla and the Washerman who reared the youth taught him, “Beat thou the tom-tom (berē) thus: ‘Thy mother [was] Tan̥gi, thy father [was] Ton̥gi; Tan̥gi and Ton̥gi.’ ”4 When the youth beat in that manner the proclamation by beat of tom-toms (aṇḍa-bera) was published in the city.
Well then, because there was not much weaving (bō wīmak) by him (owing to his household work), the King says, “Out of this city, by any method thou wantest, take any woman thou wantest,” he said to the youth.
Subsequently, the Gamarāla and that Washerman said to the youth, “Because the Smiths who constructed the Four-fold Trap killed thy family, on account of it go thou and bring a Smith (caste) woman.” After that, the youth, having brought a Smith (caste) woman, married her.
The King having given many offices to the youth, he lived in happiness at the city.
Washerman. North-western Province.
In A. von Schiefner’s Tibetan Tales derived from Indian Sources (Ralston), p. 129, the widow of a son of the King of Vidēhā, who had a son called Bahvannapāna, was given in marriage by the King of Pañcāla, her father, to his Purōhita or spiritual adviser. The Purōhita one day heard a Brāhmaṇa predict when he heard a cock crow near the house, that the person who ate its flesh would become King. He therefore killed the cock, told his wife to cook it at once, and went to the palace on business. During his absence Bahvannapāna returned hungry from school, saw the bird in the pan, cut off its head, and ate it. When the Purōhita came back he heard of this, and ate up the rest of the fowl. On consulting the Brāhmaṇa about it he was informed that he who ate the head would become King, and that one who killed him and ate his head in turn would also become King, so he determined to kill the boy. His mother perceived this and sent the boy away to Vidēhā, and he lay down to sleep in a park there. The King had just died, apparently without an heir, and the funeral ceremonies could not be performed until a new King was chosen. The Ministers, officials, Brāhmaṇas, etc., went in search of a suitable heir, saw the boy, aroused him, ascertained that he was the true heir to the throne, and proclaimed him King.
Messrs. H. B. Andris and Co., of Kandy, have been good enough to inform me that the Hatara-maha Lūla is a large four-sided trap, made for catching large animals, such as deer and wild pigs. It has four entrances and four nooses. They state that the Habaka mentioned on p. 49 is a similar but smaller trap, with one noose, used for catching hares, mouse-deer, wild cats, etc.
1 Hatara-maha Lūla. I am doubtful regarding the meaning of maha; it appears to be derived from Skt. mā, to measure or be contained. According to Clough, lūla is a snare or wicker fish-basket, perhaps from the Skt. lū, to cut or destroy. See final note. ↑
2 This would include the bathing of the whole body. ↑
3 The word gē, house, is used in the villages for “room.” In this case the “house” was the trap. ↑
At a certain city there were a Prince and a Princess. One day when the two are staying talking and talking, the Princess says, “Lord, please tell a story for me to hear,” she said.
Then the Prince said, “It is good. I know a story that no one knows; I will tell you it,” and beginning it he told the story.
At the time when he was telling it a Brāhmaṇa was listening. The Brāhmaṇa having gone away, said to the Brāhmaṇa’s wife, “I know a story.” Then the woman said, “If so, tell the story, for me to hear it.” The Brāhmaṇa told the story.
The Brāhmaṇa’s wife also learning it, having come on the following day told the story to that Princess. The Princess asked the Brāhmaṇa’s wife, “Who told you this?” Then the woman said falsely, “I learnt it [some time] previously.”
Well then, this Princess having said [to herself], “My Prince is indeed associated with this woman. If not, how does this woman know to-day the story which my Prince told yesterday for me to hear?” and having become angry with the Prince, the Princess also associated with another Prince. This Prince, ascertaining this, killed the Princess.
In no long time after that, the thought having occurred to the Prince, “If my Princess were [here] it would be good for me,” having walked throughout the whole of Lan̥kāwa (Ceylon) he looked where the Princess is now.1
One day, this Prince asked another man, “Did you see my Princess?”
At that time the [other] Prince said, “I saw that the Princess was staying yesterday in the daytime in the midst of such and such a forest.”
Well then, this Prince, asking and asking the way, having gone to the midst of the forest, at the time when he was walking in it a bear having bitten the Prince he died.
Washerman. North-western Province.
In the Kathā Sarit Sāgara (Tawney), vol. i, p. 4, it is stated that when the God Śiva was relating a story to his wife Pārvatī, one of his dependants, a Gaṇa named Pushpadanta, entered unseen by his magic power, and listened to it. Afterwards he related it to his wife Jayā, who recited it in the presence of Pārvatī, whereupon the Goddess lost her temper, reproached Śiva for telling her an old story known by others, and when she heard from him the true explanation, cursed Pushpadanta and turned him into a mortal.