Tales of the old Sind, by C. A. Kincaid

Preface

T HAVE several times been asked by readers of my Indian stories the * question, " How did you get hold of them?'* As a matter of fact, each story-book has its own history. I came across the first of my **Deccan Nursery Tales ** when searching a vernacular paper for seditious matter ! The ** Tales from the Indian Epics** were the result of a conversation with the late Mr. Hari Narayan Apte, who one day maintained to me that the story of the Frog King's daughter had an origin similar to the Fairy Tales of Europe. This led me to study the Mahabharata and to write both the " Tales from Indian Epics ** and the " Indian Heroes ". The " Tales of Pandharpur'* followed an enquiry into the historical views of the late Mr. Justice Ranade, as set forth in his ** Rise of the Maratha power *'. I came to collect these "Tales of old Sind'* in this way. On my transfer to Karachi in 1918, I happened to read Mr. Aitken's Gazetteer. In that delightful work I found a reference to the tale of Punho and Saswi. The writer said that the story was too long to quote, and therefore did not give it. I was determined to find it and I asked the help of my friend, Mr. Hasomal. He was able to get a copy of the vernacular ballad, that tells the story, from the Educational Society's depot. I was so pleased with it that I begged him to try and get me others. He accordingly secured me a copy of the ballad of Momul and Rano. In the preface to it, the compiler mentioned three other similar ballads. These also I obtained. In the preface of one of them there were references to three or four more, and these also I sent for. Next Mr. Tarachand of the Educational Service was so good as to tell me of the ballads of Sunhi and Mehar, Hir and Ranjho,

VI and Tamachi and Nuri. The ballad of Saif-ul-Muluk was picked up by chance on a Haidarabad bookstall, and last of all I found the tale of Amul Maiiik and the princess Husini in a copy of the first Sindi grammar ever published. It was printed therein in Balbodh, instead of in the Sindi script, and was intended as an exercise for the English student of Sindi.

The Tales are extraordinarily mixed in character. Punho and Saswi, Momul and Rano, Dodo and Chanesar, Umar and Marai, Tamachi and Nuri are pure Sindi. Dyach and Bijal, Kamsen and Kamrup, Kauro and Chanesar seem to be partly Sindi and partly Gujarati. Rajbala, and Birsing and Sunderbai show strong Rajput influence. Hir and Ranjho, and Suhni and Mehar must have come from the Panjab. Amul Manik and Husini, and Saif-ul-Muluk are evidently immigrants from Arabia. But whatever the origin of the Tales, they now form part of the ballad literature of Sind. As only one of them, Punho and Saswi, has previously come to the notice of Englishmen, I hope that this collection may prove of interest.

Several of these Tales have appeared in the Times of India. I have to thank the Editor for his courtesy in permitting me to reprint them.

My special thanks are due to Mr. Hasomal, who read with me not only the ballads hereinafter translated, but several others which I did not think worth translation.

C. A. K.

Contents

Saif-ul-Muluk ....

Umar and Marai

Jam Tamachi and Nuri

II

/^NCE upon a time there lived in the Girnar Fort in Kathiawar a ^^ famous king called King Dyach. One day his sister went to an anchorite and asked him to obtain a son for her by his prayers. The anchorite prayed and then said, " Lady, you will have a son, but he will cause king Dyach to lose his head.** " But,** cried the princess, aghast at the anchorite's words, ** I would sooner have no son than one who will kill my brother the king.** The anchorite shook his head and answered: ** What I have said, I have said.** Less than a year later — for how can an anchorite*s words prove false ? — the princess bore her husband a son. The princess, fearing for her brother, put the baby in a box and threw the box into the Indus, in the hope that a crocodile would swallow it. But no crocodile saw the box, and the great river bore the child safely to Ajmir where ruled a great king called Anira.

When the anchorite heard what the princess had done, he went to king Anira*s country and pointed out the box to a Charan^ man and woman. The Charans dragged the box from the river and opened it. When the woman saw a beautiful baby-boy inside, she gave a cry of joy and taking him out adopted him as her own. "He is tiny now,** she said, "but he will be big some day. Then he will repay us fbr our care and trouble." The husband agreed ; they took the baby home and called him Bijal. When the Httle boy was six years old, they put him to graze their donkeys and horses. He drove them daily to the grazing-ground, and as he went, he sang and played on his Charan*s fiddle so beautifully, that the deer stopped

1 Charans are the hereditary bards of the Rajput chiefs.

to listen to his music. One day Bijal came to a spot where some hunters had killed a deer. They had roasted and eaten the flesh, but before going away they had stretched the guts on two branches of a tree. Now the guts had this magic quality, that when the south wind blew, they gave forth such wondrous music that the antelope and the wild bear came near the tree, craning their necks to hear every note. When Bijal heard the music and learned whence it came, he took down the dead deer's guts and fastened them as strings to his fiddle. Then he drew his bow across them and began to play. The wild deer had stopped before to listen to his playing, but now the birds came out of the sky and perched on his shoulder; and the beasts of the forest crouched low at his feet, drawn to him by the witchery of his playing. Nor could they leave him so long as his music lasted. So, playing as he went, he drew them after him to the Charans* huts. There the Charans picked out what deer they wanted for food. Then Bijal stopped playing. At once the charm ceased and the birds flew back into the sky and the wild beasts raced back to their lairs in the plains or the woods. The Charans were overjoyed at the skill of their foster-son. ** If we snared deer once or twice a year," they said, ** we thought ourselves fortunate. But the boy catches them whenever he wishes. He is indeed a gift worthy of the great river.'* The fame of BijaKs playing spread so, that the Charans without difficulty found for him a beautiful wife, with whom he lived happily for several years.

Now about the time that Bijal was born, one of king Anira's wives bore him a daughter. King Anira had already sixty daughters, but no son ; so when his sixty-first daughter was born, he grew so angry that he put the baby-girl into a box and placing a bag of gold beside her put the box with its burden into the Indus. The Indus bore the baby-girl into a village which belonged to king Dyach. There a potter named Ratno saw the box and dragged it out of the water. He took out the little girl and carrying her home called her Surat. Now Ratno, although he lived, in one of King Dyachs' villages, was a great favourite of king Anira and was always in attendance on him. One day Ratno obtained two months* leave from king Anira and went to his village. There the time passed so happily that before he knew it four months had gone by. Then he remembered that he had only been given two months* leave, and he prepared to return to King Anira. His wife said, " My lord, the king will never forgive you for outstaying your leave ; you are going to your death.** But Ratno answered : ** Even if it is so, I must go. I have been guilty of one fault, let me not commit another.** So, mounting his horse, he rode along the road to Ajmir.

Now king Anira was very angry when Ratno did not return to his court after two months. He said to his guards, " When Ratno comes to court, you must kill him directly after he has visited me.** Thus when Ratno reached king Anira*s palace, he noticed that the guards saluted him no longer nor did they take his horse respectfully as they had been used to do. Ratno entered the palace and made his way into the king's presence. But the king scowled at him and turned his head away. Then Ratno said boldly, " O king, why do you thus turn your head away from me ? ** The king answered him angrily, "You promised to come back in two months and you have stayed away four.'* "Oking!** said Ratno; " hear me before you condemn me.'* " Well, what have you to say ?** growled the king. " O king, I have a daughter who is of an age to marry. I have been seeking a husband for her, but 1 have not yet succeeded.** " Then why not marry her to me ?*' said the king. Ratno was so pleased that he at once consented, and he rode off on the king's riding-camel to fetch Surat, the girl whom he had picked out of the river Indus. In front of him rode a squadron of royal guards, who beat kettle-drums until the whole heavens resounded. When the party drew near to king Dyach*s frontier, Ratno told Anira*s guards to return. ** If you ride Hke this,** he said, " beating your drums, king Dyach will think that you have come to make war on him.*' So the guards turned back and Ratno rode on alone to his home and married Surat to king Anira by proxy. Afterwards he had a torchlight procession through the streets. Now king Dyach was sitting by the window of a palace in the great Girnar fort, and when he saw the torchlight procession, he sent a manservant to learn the cause of it. The man brought back the news that Ratno was marrying his daughter to king Anira. " Bring Ratno here,'* ordered king Dyach. The servant again went out and summoned Ratno. " Why did you not give your daughter to me ?" asked the king. ** I am a poor man," replied Ratno ; "you are a king. I did not imagine you would accept her." The king thought for a moment ; then he said, " Well, she shall be my wife now. I will settle with king Anira." With these words he sent his guards to seize Surat and bring her to the palace.

In course of time king Anira came to know that king Dyach had carried off Surat. He called together a mighty army and marched to the Girnar fort. But when he tried to storm the fort he failed, for his cannon could not reach the walls, they were so high above the plain : and after suffering great losses he retreated to Ajmir. But his heart still burned with hatred against king Dyach; so he put his costliest jewels on a plate and gave the plate to a slave, to take through his country proclaiming that the jewels would be his who would bring the head of king Dyach to Ajmir.

When the slave came to the Charan's village, Bijal was not in his house, and in his absence his wife took the plate of jewels from the slave. When Bijal came back and learned what his wife had done, he grew very angry. " Woman,** he said, " why did you take the plate ? You have forced me to go on a hopeless quest. Yet, if I do not go, king Anira*s men will come and kill us all and plunder our village.**

Having said this, Bijal took his fiddle, tied to it a string of white shells, and putting on white garments, set forth on foot to the Girnar. When he drew near to the great fortress, he prayed to Allah, " O Lord ! grant this my prayer, that I may snare king Dyach with my music, even as near my own village I have often snared the deer!** Then he began to play so sweet a melody, that all the townspeople ran into the streets and offered him alms. But he would take nothing, and all through the night he played, while the townspeople sat by his side, for they never felt sleepy so long as Bijal drew his bow across the strings.

Next morning the news of this strange beggar reached the ears of king Dyach. That evening he sent a palki for Bijal and bade him come to his palace. All that night Bijal played, until king Dyach in gratitude offered him as a gift any village in his kingdom. But Bijal shook his head. When morning broke, he went and rested some hours under a tree outside the city. That evening again, king Dyach sent for him, for he was falling into the boy's snare, just as the deer had done when Bijal led them to be slaughtered helplessly in the Charan's village. All that night and for three nights afterwards king Dyach listened enraptured to the magic melodies, until at last he said, " Ask me any boon you wish, and I will give it to you.** This was the answer tor which Bijal had plotted, and he cried, "O ! king, the boon for which I ask is your head.** The king, caught in the boy*s toils, struggled in vain to free himself. He offered Bijal his costly raiment, his palaces, his houses, his treasure and his dancing girls. But Bijal merely shook his head, and taking up his fiddle began again to play ; and as he played, the king's heart sank within him, for he knew that he could never free himself from the charm of the music. Indeed he had no longer power to send Bijal away. The boy stayed in the palace and every evening boldly entered the king's chamber and began unasked to play. At last the king said, " O ! of what use, Bijal, would my head be to you ? I should be ashamed to give you so sorry a gift. Take my wealth and go on your way rejoicing.** But the boy shook his head and answered, " You bade me choose my boon and I have chosen it. You cannot now break your promise. After all, O king, what is life without honour ? Keep your promise ; and even though your life ends, your fame will live for ever. Break your promise ; and even though your life endures a few years longer, your fame will die to-day.** The king could find no answer, for the magic music had clouded his wits just as it had clouded the wits of the birds and the forest-beasts ; and he listened helplessly, while Bijal stood beside him and wound round and round him more firmly the web of his sorcery.

At last king Dyach bade queen Surat try to free him from the net of the Charan. She sent a palki for Bijal, and just as the king had done, she offered him rich clothes and jewels and elephants. But the boy would not yield : " The king," he said, " has given me his word. He is no king if he breaks it.*'

When Dyach learnt that Surat had failed to rid him of Bijal, he went to his mother, queen Khatu, and said: "What shall I do ? If I give him my head, I must leave you and my wives, my kingdom, and my glory. Yet if I do not, he taunts me with breaking my word and he vows that all the world shall know my infamy.'* Queen Khatu replied, "My son, what is life? It is but a little thing, for no man knows how long his life lasts. You should not have made a rash promise, but now that you have made it, you must keep it, so that your fame may endure for ever." The king went back sadly to his room. That evening Bijal came and played a melody, of which the charm was more terrible than any that the king had yet heard. At last Dyach rose in despair and drawing his sword sheared off his own head with a single blow. The boy picked it up, and wrapping his fiddle in his cloak, went with the head to Ajmir, where lived king Anira.

The news of his deed had gone before Bijal ; so when king Anira learnt that he was come near Ajmir, he sent his men and bade them beat him and drive him forth from the kingdom. " He caught in his snare," he cried, "the greatest king in all India ; if I let him come to Ajmir, he will kill me, as he killed king Dyach." So King Anira's soldiers beat Bijal and drove him out into the desert, warning him that if ever he came back, they would kill him in spite of his music.

Bijal went to his village, and calling his wife took her with him back to the Girnar. As he neared it, he saw a great crowd outside the city, and learnt that king Dyach's wife, Surat, was about to commit suttee.

He stood and watched. As he watched, Surat mounted a great pyre, which she had caused to be made ready. Then queen Khatu mounted by her side and the two queens bade their attendants light the pyre. A great remorse seized Bijal, when he saw the sorrow that he had brought on king Dyach*s house ; and as the flames rose, he rushed past the attendants and flung himself into the burning mass. Then Bijal's wife knew that by taking king Anira's jewels she had led her husband to his death, and in an agony of grief she too threw herself into the flames.

Ill

/^NCE upon a time there lived in Sind a king, Nanda by name. He had ^^ a wonderful pig*s tooth which had the power of drying up water, if put close to it. King Nanda used the pig*s tooth in this way. He took it to the Indus, and putting the tooth close to the surface of the water, dried up the great river. Whenever king Nanda wanted money, he would go to the bank of the Indus and dry it up with his magical tooth, take from it such treasure as he needed, and return home. When he took the pig*s tooth away, the river began to flow once more.

Now it so happened that an anchorite learnt about the pig*s tooth by means of his inner knowledge. Filled with greed, he went to the king's palace when Nanda was absent. King Nanda had nine daughters, of whom Momul was the most beautiful, and the wisest, Somal. When the anchorite reached the palace, he began to weep and moan and groan so loudly that his cries roused the princesses. Unhappily the wise Somal, who would have seen through the anchorite's pretence, had gone away with king Nanda. As it was, the beautiful Momul sent for the anchorite and asked him what ailed him. He told her that he was very ill and like to die, but could he but get a pig*s tooth, he would at once get well. Momul remembered that her father, the king, had a pig's tooth. Not knowing its magical properties, she took it from Nanda's room and gave it to the stranger. The anchorite took it and instantly recovered from his feigned illness. Then, going to the bank of the Indus, he dried up its waters, dug out a treasure, and travelling to a distant city spent the rest of his life there, in great peace and happiness.

When king Nanda came back with his daughter Somal and learnt that Momul had given his pig's tooth to a wandering anchorite, he was so angry that he would have killed Momul, had not his wise daughter Somal soothed him by saying that she knew a way in which Momul could get back just as big a treasure as the anchorite had stolen. Next day she took Momul to a spot far out on the Sind "pat** or desert, and there by her sorcery she created a beautiful palace and round it a garden blooming with flowers, and fragrant with fruit. In front of the garden she laid out a maze> round which there seemed to flow a great red river, which she named the Kak. Leading into the maze was a tunnel. Inside the tunnel Somal put by means of her sorcery terrible contrivances which roared and screamed at her will. At each corner of the magic palace she chained a lion, ready to tear in pieces, any one who sought to enter. When her task was done, she called Momul, and bade her and her slave-girls live in the palace and proclaim that she would wed the first man who could find his way through the tunnel and maze to her chamber.

Now such was MomuKs beauty that all the princes and nobles of Sind, taking with them their treasure and their men-servants, went forth gaily to win the lovely princess. As the wooers came to the outer gate> Momul sent her slave-girls to greet them and invite them to try to win her hand. Led by the slave-girls, they one by one entered the tunnel and passed into the maze. Then the magic river Kak circled round the maze closi ng all exit, so that the wooers died miserably, one after the other, and the princess*s slaves stripped their bodies and plundered their treasure. A few only, whose hearts failed them in the tunnel or who fled back from the maze before the Kak river surrounded it, wholly escaped ; but they found that in their absence Momurs slaves had taken their tents and their horses.

Now about this time there ruled in Umatkot, King Amir, a Rajput of the Sumro clan. He had three viziers, all devoted to one another and still more to king Hamir. Nor would the king ever go hunting or to battle unless either Dunar or Shinro or Rano rode at his side. All four were as handsome and brave as could be, but the handsomest and bravest was Rano.

One day the king and his viziers went a-hunting. As they came near to a village, they saw a beggar-man standing by the road-side. His face and bearing were those of a man gently born, but he was covered with rags and half-dead with want and wretchedness. At first the four young men laughed at his strange appearance. Then they went up to him and asked him who he was and whence he came. "You seem to be gently born," said king Hamir, "yet I have never seen anyone in such a sorry state.** The beggar answered courteously, *' My lord king, there was a time when 1 was rich as any one of the three nobles of your side. I had horses and lands and a host of attendants. But one day, to my sorrow, I heard of the beauty of princess Momul, and with a great store of gold and a troop of companions I set forth to win her. But she and her slaves murdered all my friends and plundered me even of my horse, so that I am now begging my way back to my own country.'*

The king asked who Momul was, and the beggar-man told her story. After hearing it, the king and his three viziers vowed that they too would try to win her, or would die in the attempt. They asked the beggar-man the way to her palace, and after several days' journey they reached the outer gate of her garden, just as it was growing dark. They camped there for the night, and next morning one of Momul's slave-girls came to greet them. Her name was Natar, and she was so pretty and graceful that at first the four young men thought that she must be Momul herself. But Natar laughed, and said, " Nay, I am not the princess. To see her, you must win through to the palace. No man except her father has yet seen her face. But she sent me to welcome you and offer you this tray of food.** She put down the tray on the ground ; and as the young men ate the food, she described to them Momul's beauty, until they all grew sick with love.Then she mocked them, saying, " Who are you to think of my lovely princess ? The hero who would win her must be cast in a different mould. You had better run back to your villages. If not, you will be torn to pieces in the tunnel, or die of hunger and thirst in her maze.'* In this way Natar excited their desire and their courage, until they all cried together that they feared neither the tunnel nor the maze, but that they would stay by MomuKs gate until they bore off in triumph the beautiful maiden. In answer, the slave-girl threw them a tangled skein of silk and said, "Test your skill by undoing this, before you try to find your way through the maze.** King Hamir took the skein; first he, and then Dunar, and then Shinro tried in vain to unravel it. At last they passed it on to Rano. His deft fingers soon solved the knot, and untying it he made the silken skein into a tassel and fastened it as a plume to his horse*s head. The slave-girl looked at Rano in wonder ; then she went back to her mistress, and said, " Four beautiful youths have come to win you, but one, Rano by name, is fairer and wiser than the others, or indeed than any wooer who has yet come to your palace-door. Why not marry him, my mistress, at once ? Do not kill this gallant as you have killed the others." The princess felt a moment's pity. Then she hardened her heart and answered, " If, forsooth, he is as wise as you say, let him win me. If he fails, he is but a fool, and I shall add his wealth to my father's treasure.*'

Then she got ready some tasty dishes, and put a deadly poison in each of them : giving them to the slave-girl, she bade her take them back to the king and his three viziers. The slave-girl did so ; and setting the tray before them, served each of them with her own hands, saying, *' Fair sirs, my mistress has cooked these dishes with her own hands for you, as she fears that you must be weary after trying to unravel the skein." The king and Shinro and Dunar would have eaten the food and perished miserably, had not Rano thrown a piece to a stray dog. The dog ate it, and at once rolled over screaming in agony. The king rose in wrath and said to his viziers, " We will back to our homes and let this murderess be." But Rano replied, " O ! king, to go back now would be the act of cowards. Let us go on with our task ; and, with God's help, we shall win the maiden."

In the meantime, Natar went back to the palace and told Momul how Rano had saved his comrades from the poison. She again pleaded with her mistress to spare him. But the princess rebuked her, saying, " If I spared him, all men would laugh at me. Go now to the young men, and invite them, one by one, to win through to my chamber. When they have entered the maze, they will fall easy victims."

Natar did as her mistress ordered. Going to king Hamir, she said, **Come with me, king Hamir. My princess challenges you to win her. If you but find your way to her chamber, she is yours."

The king rose to his feet and followed the slave-girl into the tunnel.

There, in the darkness, she slipped away, leaving the king alone. The contrivances created by Somars magic began to roar and scream, imitating the cries of wild beasts and the hissing of snakes, and filling the whole air with horror. The king all but fainted. Had he fainted outright, he would have been lost ; for the princess's slaves were lurking near, and they would have fallen on him and killed and robbed him. But he recovered himself; and giving up the quest, made his way back to where his comrades sat waiting. He told them of the horrors of the tunnel and of the awful noises that he had heard there. " Let us stay here no longer," he said to his viziers. " Let us go back to Umarkot.**

But Rano said : " My lord king, although you have failed, you have tried ; and so none can blame you. But if we go back without even trying, all Umarkot will laugh us to scorn. Let us all try. Then if we fail, we can go back together.**