Mythology and Folklore UN-Textbook: Unit: Santal Folklore

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Myth-Folklore Unit: Santal Folklore

Overview. The Santal (Santhal, Sontal, Sonthal) are the largest tribal community in India, living primarily in the states of Jharkhand, West Bengal and Odisha, and also in the neighboring nations of Nepal and Bangladesh. They speak a Munda language which is related to Vietnamese and Khmer, and they have an incredibly rich storytelling tradition. The stories in this unit come from an enormous collection of Santal stories translated into English by C. H. Bompas: Folklore of the Santal Parganas. In selecting stories for this unit, I have focused on the animal legends, so you will find here many tales of tigers and of jackals, along with supernatural creatures like the ghormuhas who "have heads like horses and bodies and arms like men, and their legs are shaped like men’s but they have only one leg each, and they eat human beings." Between the tigers and the ghormuhas, the world of Santal stories is full of danger and adventure, plus plenty of animal tricksters too!

Language. These folktales are told in contemporary English, so the language used should not pose any problems.

Story Length. This unit contains single-page stories, along with one two-page story.

Navigation. You will find the table of contents below, and you can also use this link to see the story posts displayed on two pages total: Santal Folklore. Click "Older Posts" at the bottom of that page to see the second page.

READING A:

READING B:

(Santal woman and child,
photo by Biplob Rahman)

Santal: Ledha and the Leopard

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

Ledha and the Leopard

Once upon a time, a boy named Ledha was tending cattle with other boys at the foot of a hill, and these boys in fun used to call out “Ho, leopard: Ho, leopard,” and the echo used to answer from the hill “Ho, leopard.”

Now there really was a leopard who lived in the hill, and one day he was playing hide and seek with a lizard which also lived there. The lizard hid and the leopard looked everywhere for it in vain.

At last the leopard sat down to rest, and it chanced that he sat right on top of the lizard which was hiding in a hole. The lizard thought that the leopard meant to hurt it, and in revenge bit him and fastened on to his rump so that he could not get it off, so that day when the boys came calling out “Ho, leopard,” he ran towards them to get their help, but when they saw the leopard they all fled for their lives.

Ledha, however, could not run fast because he was lame, and the leopard headed him off and begged him to remove the lizard. This he did after the leopard had sworn not to eat him, and before they parted, the leopard made him promise to tell no one that the lizard had bitten him, and said that if he told then he would be carried off and eaten.

So Ledha rejoined his companions and told them nothing of what had passed between him and the leopard. But that night, when they had all gone to bed, Ledha’s sister-in-law began to worry him to tell her what the leopard had said to him when it had caught him. He told her that the leopard would eat him if he told, but she coaxed him and said that no one could hear them inside the house, so at last he told her that he had taken off a lizard which was hanging on to its rump.

Then they went to sleep, but the leopard was hiding at the back of the house and heard all that they said, and when they were all asleep, he crept in and carried off Ledha’s bed with Ledha in it on his head.

When Ledha woke up towards morning, he found himself being carried through dense jungle, and he quietly pulled himself up into one of the trees which overhung the path. Thus when the leopard put down the bed and was going to eat Ledha, he found it empty.

So, he went back on his track, and by and bye came to the tree in which Ledha was hiding. The leopard begged Ledha to come down, as he had something to say to him and promised not to eat him, but directly Ledha reached the ground, the leopard said “Now I am going to eat you.”

Ledha was powerless, so he only asked to be allowed to have one chew of tobacco before he died; the leopard assented and Ledha felt in his cloth for his tobacco, but the tobacco did not come out easily, and as Ledha felt about for it, the dry tobacco leaves crackled.

The leopard asked what the crackling sound was, and Ledha said “That is the lizard which bit you yesterday.” Then the leopard got into a terrible fright and ran away as hard as he could, calling out “Don’t let it loose; don’t let it loose.”

So Ledha was saved from the leopard, but he did not know his way out of the jungle. He wandered about till he came to the place where the wild buffaloes used to sleep at night, and he swept up the place and made it clean and then took refuge in a hollow tree; he stayed there some days, sweeping up the place daily and supporting himself on the fruit of a fig-tree.

At last one day, the buffaloes left one cow behind to watch and see who it was who swept up their sleeping place. The cow pretended to be too ill to rise, and Ledha, after watching for some time, came out and swept the ground as usual and then tried to pull the sick cow up by the tail, but she would not move, so he went back to his hollow tree.

When the buffaloes returned, they heard that it was a kindhearted man who cleaned their sleeping place, so they called Ledha out and said that they would keep him as their servant to clean their sleeping place and to scrub them when they bathed in the river; they made him taste the milk of all the cows and appointed the cow whose milk he liked best to supply him. Thenceforward, he used to wander about with the buffaloes, and he made a flute and used to play on it.

One day after scrubbing the buffaloes, he washed his head in the river, and some of his hairs came out, so he wrapped them up in a leaf and set the packet to float down the stream.

Lower down the stream, two princesses were bathing with their attendants, and when they saw the packet, they tried who could fish it out, and it was the younger princess who caught it. Then they measured the hairs and found them twelve cubits long.

The princess who had taken the packet from the water went home and took to her bed and said that she would not eat until the man was found to whom the hairs belonged. Her father, the Raja, sent messengers in all directions to search for the man but they could not find him.

Then he sent a parrot, and the parrot flew up high and, looking down, saw Ledha with the buffaloes in the forest, but it did not dare to go near, so the parrot returned and told the Raja that the man was in the forest but that no messenger could approach for fear of the wild buffaloes.

However, a crow said, “I can bring him if any one can,” so they sent the crow, and it went and perched on the backs of the buffaloes and began to peck them; then Ledha threw stones at it, but it would not go away; then he threw a stick at it and last of all he threw his flute.

The crow caught up the flute and flew up to a tree with it. Ledha ran after it, but the crow kept flying on a short distance, and Ledha still pursued until he came to the Raja’s city. The crow flew on till it entered the room where the princess lay and dropped the flute into the hands of the princess. Ledha followed right into the room, and they shut him in, and the princess gave him his flute after he had promised to marry her.

So he stayed there a long time, but meanwhile the buffaloes all got weak and ill for want of some one to look after them. One day Ledha set off to the jungle with his wife to see them, and when he saw how ill the buffaloes were, he decided to build a house in the jungle and live there. And the Raja sent them money and horses and cattle and elephants and servants, and they built a palace, and Ledha subdued all the jungle and became a great Raja, and he made a highway to his father-in-law’s home and used to go to and fro on it.

Next: The Oilman’s Bullock

(1300 words)

Santal: The Oilman’s Bullock

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

The Oilman’s Bullock

There was once a poor but industrious oilman; he got a log of wood and carved out an oil mill and, borrowing some money as capital, he bought mustard and sesame seed and set to work to press it — as he had no bullock, he had to turn the mill himself.

He was so industrious that he soon began to prosper and was able to buy a bullock for his mill. By and by he got so rich that he was able to buy some land and a cart and pair of bullocks and was quite a considerable man in the village.

One day, one of his cart bullocks died, and this loss was a sad blow to the oilman. However, he tied up the surviving bullock in the stable, along with the old oil mill bullock, and fed them well.

One night, it chanced that one of the villagers passed by the stable and heard the two animals talking, and this is what he heard.

The young bullock said “You came to this house first, friend; what sort of treatment does one get here?”

“Why do you ask me?” said the other.

“Oh, I see your shoulder is galled and your neck shows mark of the yoke.”

The old bullock answered “Whether my master treats me well or ill, I owe him money and have to stay here until I have paid him off. When I have paid him five hundred rupees I shall go.”

“How will you ever pay back such a sum?”

“If my master would only match me to fight the Raja’s elephant for five hundred rupees, I should win the fight and my debt would be cleared, and if he does not do that, I shall probably have to work for him all my life. How long do you intend to stay?”

“My debt will be cleared if I work for him two years,” answered the new comer.

The man who overheard this conversation was much astonished and went off to the oilman and told him all about it. Next day, the whole village had heard of it, and they were all anxious for the oilman to match his bullock against the Raja’s elephant, but the oilman was very frightened, for he feared that if he sent such a challenge, the Raja would be angry with him and drive him out of the country.

But the leading villagers urged him, and undertook to find the money if he lost, and to persuade the Raja that the oilman was mad if he became angry with him. At last the oilman consented, provided that some of the villagers went to the Raja and proposed the match; he was too frightened to go himself.

So two of the village elders went to the Raja and asked him to match his elephant against the oilman’s bullock for five hundred rupees; the Raja was very much amused and at once fixed a day for the fight. So they returned and told the oilman to be ready, and raised a subscription of five hundred rupees.

The evening before the contest, the oilman gave the bullock a big feed of meal and oilcake, and on the eventful morning, the villagers all collected and watched him oiling its horns and tying a bell round its neck. Then the oilman gave the bullock a slap on its back and said, “Take care: you are going to fight an elephant; if you owe me so much money you will win, and if not, then you will be defeated.” When he said this the bullock pawed the ground and snorted and put down its head.

Then they all set out with the five hundred rupees to a level field near the Raja’s palace; a great crowd collected to see the fun, and the Raja went there expecting easily to win five hundred rupees. The elephant was brought forward with vermilion on its cheeks, and a pad on its back, and a big bell round its neck, and a mahout riding it. The crowd called out “Put down the stakes,” so each side produced the money and publicly announced that the owner of the animal which should be victorious should take all the stakes.

But the oilman objected to the mahout’s riding the elephant; no one was going to ride his bullock. This was seen to be fair, and the mahout had to get off; then the fight began. The bullock snorted, and blew through its nose, and ran at the elephant with its head lowered. Then the elephant also rushed forward, but the bullock stood its ground and stamped; at this, the elephant turned tail and ran away; the bullock ran after it and gored it from behind until it trumpeted with pain.

The crowd shouted “The Raja’s elephant is beaten.”

And the oilman took the five hundred rupees, and they all went home.

From that day, the oilman no longer put the bullock to work the oil mill, but fed it well and left it free to go where it liked.

But the bullock only stayed on with him for one month and then died.

Next: The Monkey and the Girl

(900 words)

Santal: The Monkey and the Girl

For more about sati, often spelled in English "suttee" (reflecting the Hindi pronunciation), see this Wikipedia article: Suttee. For more about the wife of the god Shiva, from whom the practice took its name, also see Wikipedia: Sati.

(sati / suttee ceremony)

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

The Monkey and the Girl

Once upon a time, the boys and girls of a village used to watch the crops of but growing by a river, and there was a Hanuman monkey who wished to eat the crops, but they drove him away. So he made a plan: he used to make a garland of flowers and go with it to the field and, when he was driven away, he would leave the flowers behind, and the children were pleased with the flowers and ended by making friends with the monkey and did not drive him away.

(Hanuman Langur Monkey)

There was one of the young girls who was fascinated by the monkey and promised to marry him. Some of the other children told this in the village, and the girl’s father and mother came to hear of it and were angry and the father took some of the villagers and went and shot the monkey.

Then they decided not to throw away the body, but to burn it like the corpse of a man. So they made a pyre and put the body on it and set fire to it; just then the girl came and they told her to go away, but she said that she wished to see whether they really burned him like a man.

So she stood by, and when the pyre was in full blaze, she called out “Oh look, what is happening to the stars in the sky!”

At this, everyone looked up at the sky; then she took some sand which she had in the fold of her cloth and threw it into the air, and it fell into their eyes and blinded them.

While they were rubbing the sand out of their eyes, the girl leapt on to the pyre and was burned along with the monkey and died a sati. Her father and brothers were very angry at this and said that the girl must have had a monkey’s soul, and so she was fascinated by him — and so saying, they bathed and went home.

Next: Ramai and the Animals

(300 words)

Santal: Ramai and the Animals

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

Ramai and the Animals

Once there was a blacksmith who had five sons and the sons were always quarrelling. Their father used to scold them, but they paid no heed, so he got angry, and one day he sent for them and said: “You waste your time quarrelling. I have brought you up and have amassed wealth; I should like to see what you are worth. I will put it to the test: I will give you each one hundred rupees, and I will see how you employ the money; if any of you puts it to profitable use, I will call him my son, but if any of you squander it, I shall call him a girl.”

So they went forth with the money, and one bought buffaloes, and one bought horses, and another cattle, each according to his judgement, and brought them home.

But the youngest son, who was named Ramai, soon after he started, found some men killing a cat and he begged them not to kill the cat, but let him have it and he bought it of them and, going on, he found some men killing a dog which they had caught stealing, and he bought it of them to save its life. By and by he came to some men hunting an otter, and he asked what they were doing, and they said that the otter ate the fish in a Raja’s tank and so they were going to kill it, and he asked them to catch it and sell it to him, and promised to take it away where it could do no harm; and they did so. Then he went on and came to some men who were killing a young black snake, and he saved that also, and then returned home with his four animals, and he tethered the cat and the dog and the otter in the yard, and he put the snake into a pot with a lid on and hung it in the cow shed.

When his father saw Ramai’s animals, he was very angry and jeered at him and said that he had no more mind than a woman, and especially he told him to throw away the snake at once if he did not want it killed.

So Ramai took down the pot with the snake in it, and the snake said: “Take me to my father and mother, and they will reward you, and when they ask what you would like, take nothing but the ring which is on my father’s hand: it is a magic ring and has the property that it will give you whatever you ask.”

So Ramai took the young snake to its home, and its father and mother were very grateful and asked what reward he would accept, and he said he would take nothing but the ring, so they gave it to him.

On the way home he thought that he would test its virtues, so he bathed and spread out a cloth and then prayed: “Oh ring, give me some luncheon,” and behold he saw a nice lunch heaped up in the middle of the cloth.

He ate it joyfully and went back home, and there he found that his father had killed the other animals, and he reproached him; but his father said: “They were useless and were only eating their heads off; why should not I kill them?”

Ramai answered: “These were not useless; they were most valuable animals, much better than those my brothers bought — if you asked my brothers for a gold palace, they could not make you one, but I could do so at once, thanks to the snake, and I could marry a princess and get anything else I want.”

His father said that he would like to see him try, so Ramai asked the ring for a gold palace and immediately one appeared in their garden. Then his father was very repentant about having killed the other animals.

But Ramai’s boast that he could marry a princess got abroad, and the Raja heard of it, and as he was glad to have so rich a son-in-law, he gave him his daughter in marriage. And with his daughter, the Raja sent elephants and horses, but Ramai sent them back again lest it should be said that he had become rich through the bounty of the Raja, and by virtue of the ring they lived in wealthy and prosperity.

Next: The Ghormuhas

(700 words)

Santal: The Ghormuhas

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

The Ghormuhas

Ghormuhas have heads like horses and bodies and arms like men, and their legs are shaped like men’s, but they have only one leg each, and they eat human beings.

One day a young man named Somai was hunting a deer, and the deer ran away to the country of the Ghormuhas, and Somai pursued it, and the Ghormuhas caught him and took him home to eat.

First they smoked him for two or three days so that all the vermin were driven out of his body and clothes, and then they proceeded to fatten him; they fed him well every day on rice cooked with turmeric.

Somai saw how they dealt with their other victims: they tied them hand and foot and threw them alive into a pot of boiling oil, and when they were cooked, they hung the bodies up in the doorway and would take a bite as they passed in and out; the liver and heart and brains they cooked separately.

They used to eat their own parents also: for when a father or mother grew old, they would throw them on to the roof of the house, and when they rolled down and were killed, they would say to their friends, “The pumpkin growing on our roof has got ripe and fallen off and burst; let us come and eat it,” and then they had a feast.

Somai saw all this and was very frightened. The Ghormuhas could run very fast, and they made Somai run a race with them every day, and their plan was that they would eat him when he was strong enough to beat them in the race.

In the course of time, he came to beat them in running on the road; then they said that they would make him run in the fields and, if he beat them there, they meant to eat him.

Somai found out their plan ,and he decided to try and run away; if he stayed he would be eaten, so if they caught him when he tried to run away, he would be no worse off.

So, the first day they raced in the fields Somai was winning, but he remembered and stopped himself and let himself be beaten that day. But he resolved to try and escape the next day, and the Ghorarahas had decided to eat him that day, whatever happened.

So when the race began, Somai set off towards the lower lands where the rice fields were embanked, and he jumped the embankments, but the Ghormuhas who pursued him could not jump well and tumbled and fell, and thus he ran away to his own country and made good his escape.

And it was he who told men what Ghormuhas are like and how they live.

Next: The Raibar and the Leopard

(500 words)

Santal: The Raibar and the Leopard

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

The Raibar and the Leopard

Once upon a time a raibar [matchmaker] was going backwards and forwards between two families arranging a marriage, and part of the road which he used to travel ran through a forest.

One day as he was going to the bride’s house, he took a sack with him, intending to try and get the loan of some Indian corn from the bride’s relations, but as he was passing through the piece of jungle, he suddenly met a leopard; he was terribly frightened but, collecting his wits, he addressed the animal thus: “Leopard; I beg you not to eat me; I am engaged on a work of great merit; I am making two men out of one.”

This address amazed the leopard, and he at once asked the raibar whether he could make him into two and promised that, if he could, his life should be spared.

The raibar answered readily. “Seeing that in pursuit of my profession I have made two men out of one all over the country, of course I can make you into two leopards if I try; all you have to do is to get into this sack and keep quiet; if you utter a sound, you will spoil the charm.”

“Well,” said the leopard, “I will try and see; I undertake to keep quite quiet, and if you are successful, I promise to tell the whole race of leopards to spare the lives of raibars.”

So saying, the leopard jumped into the sack and allowed the man to tie him up tightly in it. No sooner was this done than the raibar took the sack on his head and carried it to the bank of a river and, having given it two or three hearty whacks with his stick, threw it into the water. The sack went floating down the stream, and it happened that lower down a leopardess sat, watching the water, and when she saw the sack coming along, she thought that it was a dead cow floating down. So, when it came near, she jumped into the water and pulled it ashore.

She then proceeded to tear open the sack, when out jumped the first leopard; he soon explained how he came to be in the sack and declared that the raibar’s promise had been fulfilled and that she was his destined mate. The leopardess agreed, and the two set to work to tell all the other leopards what had happened and what a kindness the raibar had done them; and so it came to pass that to the present day, leopards never interfere with raibars when they are going about arranging a marriage; no one ever heard of one being injured.

Meanwhile, the raibar went on his way, rejoicing at having rid himself of the leopard. But the next year, while engaged on the business of another marriage, the raibar was passing through the same jungle when he came face to face with the very leopard that he thought he had safely disposed of; he at once took to his heels, but the leopard called out to him not to be afraid and to wait, as he had something to say to him.

So the raibar stopped, and the leopard asked whether he did not recognise him; the raibar stoutly denied all knowledge of him.

“Well,” said the leopard, “I am the leopard of whom you made two out of one, and to show my gratitude I will give you any reward you like; would you like a cow or a deer or any other animal? I will kill you one and bring it to you.”

When the raibar saw the turn that things had taken, he thought that he had better take advantage of it, so he asked for a good large nilgai. The leopard told him to come to a certain tree at noon the next day, and he would find the animal there. So they separated and the next day at noon the raibar went to the tree and found a fine nilgai waiting for him, which he and his friends took home and ate with joy.

Next: The Tiger’s Bride

(700 words)

Santal: The Tiger’s Bride

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

The Tiger’s Bride

One day a woman went to cut thatching grass, and she cut such a quantity that, when she tied it up, the bundle was too big for her to lift on to her head. So, she stood and called for some one to help her, but no one was within hearing and no one came. She called and called, and at last began to promise that she would give her daughter in marriage to anyone who would help her.

After she had called out this a few times, a tiger suddenly appeared and asked what she wanted; she explained her difficulty and the tiger undertook to lift the load on to her head if she would really give him her daughter in marriage. She promised and, with the help of the tiger, took up the bundle and went home.

Two or three days after, the tiger presented himself at her house and was duly married to the daughter. After the wedding the couple started for the tiger’s home; all the way the unhappy bride wept and sang: “How far off is our home, big head?”

“You can just see the mouth of the cave,” answered the tiger, and in a short time they came to a large cave.

Then the tiger told her to set to work and cook a feast while he went off and invited his friends to come and share it. But the bride when left alone caught a cat and killed it and hung it over the fire, so that its blood dropped slowly into the pan and made a fizzling noise, as if cooking were going on, and then she ran off to her mother’s house and climbed a tree which grew near it and began to sing:

“You married me to a ti-ti-tiger:
You threw me to a bear:
Take back the necklace you gave me,
Take back the bracelet and the diamonds and the coral.”

Meanwhile the tiger returned with his friends and sat down outside the cave and told his wife to be quick with the cooking of the cakes for he heard the hissing over the fire and thought that she was cooking.

At last, as she did not come out, he got tired of waiting and went in to fetch her; then he saw that she had disappeared and had to go and tell his friends.

They were very angry at being cheated out of a feast, and fell upon the tiger and beat him till he ran away and was seen no more, but his bride was left to flit from tree to tree singing:

“You married me to a ti-ti-tiger:
You threw me to a bear:
Take back the necklace you gave me,
Take back the bracelet and the diamonds and the coral.”

Next: The Killing of the Tiger

(500 words)

Santal: The Killing of the Tiger

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

The Killing of the Tiger

They say that there was a time when all living things had a common speech and animals and men could understand each other, and in those days there was a man-eating tiger which infested a jungle through which a highroad ran; it preyed on people passing along the road till no one ventured to travel, and, as the country was so unsafe, the people went in a body to the Raja and told him of the ravages of the tiger and asked him to send a force of soldiers to hunt and shoot it.

So the Raja called together all his soldiers and promised to give half his kingdom to any one of them who would kill the tiger, but not one of them was brave enough to make the attempt; they said that their business was to fight men, and not tigers and leopards. Then the Raja extended his offer to all his subjects, and the petitioners went home to consult about it, and the news was published that the Raja would give half his kingdom to the slayer of the tiger.

Now there was a poor man who was a very brave shikari of big game, and cunning into the bargain, and he offered to go and kill the tiger. They questioned him carefully, and when they saw that he was in earnest, they took him to the Raja to hear from the Raja’s lips what his reward should be, and the Raja promised him half his kingdom and wrote a bond to that effect, for he thought that the tiger would surely kill the man.

Then the shikari said that he would start the next morning and return the next day, either with the dead tiger or with bits of its ears and claws to show that he had killed it. The Raja told the people to watch carefully and see that the shikari did not cheat by taking the claws and ears of a tiger with him.

The next morning, the shikari started off, and all he took with him was a looking-glass and three pictures of a tiger drawn on three pieces of paper and a hatchet; he went to the road which the tiger frequented and climbed a banyan tree and spent the night in it.

The tiger did not pass by at all that night, but in the morning it appeared and called out, “Who is up in the tree?”

The shikari said, “It is I.”

“Come down quickly,” said the tiger; “I have been looking for you.”

“Wait a minute,” answered the shikari; “I have been looking for you also.”

“What for?” said the tiger.

“Tell me first why you are looking for me,” said the man.

“To eat you,” answered the tiger.

Then the man said, “Well, I have been hunting for you to catch you and take you away. I have caught three or four like you, and if you don’t believe me, let me get down and I will show you.”

The tiger got into a fright and said: “Come down and show me.”

So the shikari climbed down and uncovered his looking glass and told the tiger to look, and he reflected in the glass the pictures of the tigers which he had brought and said, “Now I am going to catch you and put you in here also.”

The tiger asked why he was to be caught, and the shikari said that it was because he had made the road unsafe by killing travellers; then the tiger begged and prayed to be let off and promised that he would never kill any travellers again.

At last the shikari said that he would let him go if he would allow him to cut off his claws and the tips of his ears and the tip of his tongue as a pledge of his good faith.

The tiger said, “Well, you may cut off one claw from each foot and the very tip of my ears and tongue.” So the shikari cut them off with his hatchet and, after again warning the tiger, went back home, and then presented himself with all his friends before the Raja, and the Raja gave him the promised reward.

But the tiger’s tongue festered and, after roaring with pain for a whole day, it died.

Next: The Raja's Dream

(700 words)

Santal: The Raja's Dream

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

The Raja's Dream

Once upon a time, there was a Raja who had no children. So, he and his wife agreed that he should marry again. His second wife bore him two sons, and they were very pleased that the Raja should have heirs and all lived happily together.

But after the two sons had been born, the elder Rani also gave birth to a son. This caused discord in the family, for the younger Rani had counted on her sons succeeding to the Raja, but now she feared that the son of the elder Rani would be preferred. So she went to the Raja and besought him to send away the elder Rani and her son. The Raja listened to her and gave the first wife a separate estate and a separate house and sent them away.

Time passed, and one night the Raja had a dream, the meaning of which he could not understand; he dreamt that he saw a golden leopard and a golden snake and a golden monkey dancing together.

The Raja could not rest until he had found out the meaning of the dream, so he sent for his younger wife and her two sons and consulted them. They could give no explanation, but the younger son said that he had a presentiment that his brother, the son of the elder Rani, could interpret the dream.

So that son was sent for, and when he appeared before his father and heard the story of the dream, he said, “This is the interpretation: the three golden animals represent us three brothers, for we are like gold to you. Thakur has sent this dream in order that we may not fight hereafter; we cannot all three succeed to the Raj, and we shall assuredly fight if one is not chosen as the heir. It is intended that whichever of us can find a golden leopard, and a golden snake, and a golden monkey, and make them dance before the people — he is your principal son and shall be your heir.”

The Raja was pleased with this interpretation and told his three sons that he would give the Raj to whichever of them could find the three animals by that day year.

The sons of the younger Rani went away, feeling that it was useless for them to make any attempt to fulfil the conditions; even if they got a goldsmith to make the animals, they would never be able to make them dance.

But the other brother went to his mother and told her all that had happened, and she bade him be of good courage, and he would find the animals; if he went to a Gosain who lived in the jungle, he would be told what to do.

So the Raja’s son set out, and after travelling for some days, he found himself benighted in a dense jungle. Wandering about, he at last saw a fire burning in the distance, so he went to it and sat down by it and began to smoke. Now the Gosain was sleeping near by, and the smell of the smoke awoke him, and he rose and asked who was there.

“O uncle, it is I.”

“Really, is it you my nephew? Where have you come from so late at night?”

“From home, uncle.”

“What has brought me to your memory now? You have never paid me a visit before. I am afraid that something has happened.”

“You need not fear that; I have come to you because my mother tells me that you can help me to find the golden leopard and the golden snake and the golden monkey.”

At this the Gosain promised to help the Raja’s son to find the animals and then put the cooking-pot on the fire to boil; and in it he put only three grains of rice, but when it was cooked, they found that there was enough to make a meal of.

When they had eaten, the Gosain said “Nephew, I cannot tell you what you have to do, but further in the jungle lives my younger brother: go to him and he will tell you.”

So when it was morning, the Raja’s son set out, and in two days he reached the second Gosain and told him of his quest. The Gosain listened to his story and put the cooking-pot on to boil and in it threw two grains of rice, and this, when cooked, was sufficient for a good meal.

After they had eaten, the Gosain said that he could not tell how the animals were to be found, but that he had a still younger brother who could tell. So the next morning the Raja’s son continued his journey, and in two or three days he came to the third Gosain, and there he learnt what was to be done. This Gosain also put the pot on to boil but in the pot he only put one grain of rice and a bit of a grain, yet when cooked it was enough for a meal.

Next: The Raja's Dream (cont.)

(800 words)

Santal: The Raja's Dream (cont.)

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

The Raja's Dream (cont.)

In the morning, the Gosain told the Raja’s son to go to a blacksmith and have a shield made of twelve maunds of iron and with its edge so sharp that a leaf falling on it would be cut in two. So he went to the blacksmith and had a shield made, and took it to the Gosain.

The Gosain said that they must test it, and he set it edgewise in the ground under a tree and told the Raja’s son to climb the tree and shake some leaves down. The Raja’s son climbed the tree and shook the branches, but not a leaf fell. Then the Gosain climbed up and gave the tree a shake and the leaves fell in showers and every leaf that touched the edge of the shield was cut in two. Then the Gosain was satisfied that the shield was rightly made.

Then the Gosain told the Raja’s son that further on in the jungle he would find a pair of snakes living in a bamboo house, and they had a daughter whom they never allowed to come out of the house; he must fix the sharp shield in the door of the house and hide himself in a tree, and when the snakes came out, they would be cut to pieces; then, when the snakes were dead, he was to go to their daughter and she would show him where to find the golden animals.

So the Raja’s son set out and about noon he came to the home of the snakes, and he set the shield in the doorway as the Gosain had said, and at evening, when the snakes tried to come out of the house, they were cut to pieces. When her father and mother were dead, the daughter came out to see what had happened, and the Raja’s son saw that she was very beautiful. He went to her and began to talk, and it did not take them long to fall in love with each other. The snake maiden soon forgot her father and mother, and she and the Raja’s son lived together in the bamboo house many days.

The snake maiden strictly forbade him to go anywhere to the west or south of the house, but one day he disobeyed her and wandered away to the west. After going a short distance, he saw golden leopards dancing, and directly he set eyes on them, he himself was changed into a golden leopard and began to dance with the others.

The snake maiden soon knew what had happened, and she followed him and led him back and restored him to his own shape.

A few days later, the Raja’s son went away to the south and there he found golden snakes dancing on the bank of a tank and directly he saw them, he too became a golden snake and joined the dance. Again the snake maiden fetched him back and restored him to his own form.

But again the Raja’s son went out to the south-west, and there he saw golden monkeys dancing under a banyan tree, and when he saw them he became a golden monkey; again the snake maiden brought him back and restored him to human shape.

After this, the Raja’s son said that it was time for him to go back home. The snake maiden asked why he had come there at all, and then he told her all about the Raja’s dream and said that as he had found the animals he would now go home.

“Kill me first,” said the snake maiden; “you have killed my parents and I cannot live alone here.”

“No, I will not kill you; I will take you with me,” answered the Raja’s son, and the snake maiden gladly agreed. Then the Raja’s son asked how he was to take the golden animals with him, for so far he had only seen where they were. The snake maiden said that if he faithfully promised never to desert her, nor take another wife, she would produce the animals for him when the time came. So he swore never to leave her, and they set out for his home.

When they reached the place where the third Gosain lived, the Raja’s son said that he had promised to visit the Gosain on his homeward journey and show him the golden animals, but he did not know what to do, as he had not got the animals with him. Then the snake maiden tied three knots in his cloth and bade him untie them when the Gosain asked to see the animals. So the Raja’s son went to see the Gosain, and the Gosain asked whether he had brought the golden leopard and snake and monkey.

“I am not sure,” answered the other, “but I have something tied up in my cloth,” and he untied the three knots and found in them a clod of earth, a potsherd and a piece of charcoal. He threw them away and went back to the snake maiden and asked why she had put worthless rubbish in his cloth.

“You had no faith,” said she; “if you had believed, the animals would not have turned into the clod and the potsherd and the charcoal.”

So they journeyed on till they came to the second Gosain, and he also asked to see the golden animals, and this time the Raja’s son set his mind hard to believe and, when he untied the knots, there were a golden leopard and a golden snake and a golden monkey. Then they went on and showed the animals to the first Gosain, and then went to the house where his mother lived.

When the appointed day came, the Raja’s son sent word to his father to have a number of booths and shelters erected in a spacious plain, and to have a covered way made from his mother’s house to the plain, and then he would show the dancing animals.

So the Raja gave the necessary orders, and on the day fixed, all the people assembled to see the fun. Then the Raja’s son set the three animals on the ground, and his wife remained hidden in the covered way and caused the animals to dance. The people stayed watching all day till evening and then dispersed.

That night all the booths and shelters which had been erected were changed into houses of gold, and when he saw this, the Raja left his younger wife and her children and went and lived with his first wife.

Next: The Jackal and the Crow

(1100 words)

Santal: The Jackal and the Crow

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

The Jackal and the Crow

Once upon a time, a crow and a jackal became bosom friends, and they agreed that the crow should support the jackal in the hot weather and the jackal support the crow in the rainy season.

By-and-by the jackal got discontented with the arrangement and vowed that it would not go on supporting an animal of another species, but would take some opportunity of eating it up.

But he did not let this appear, and one day he invited the crow to a feast and gave him as many frogs and grasshoppers as he could eat and treated him well and they parted very affectionately.

Then a few days later, the crow invited the jackal to dinner in return, and when the jackal arrived, the crow led him to an ant-hill and showed him a hollow gourd which he had filled with live mice and said, “Here is your dinner.”

The jackal could not get his nose into the hole of the gourd so, to get at the mice, he had to break it. And the mice ran all over the place, and the jackal jumped about here and there trying to catch them.

At this sight the crow stood and laughed, and the jackal said to himself, “Very well, my friend, you invited me here to have a laugh at me; wait till I have finished with the mice — then it will be your turn.”

So when he had caught all the mice he could, he declared that he had had as much as he could eat and would like to go and sleep off his meal. As they said farewell and were salaaming to each other, the jackal pounced on the crow and ate him up; not a bone or a claw was left. Then the jackal began to skip with joy and sang:

“I ate a gourdful of mice
And by the side of the ant-hill
I ate the crow: Hurrah!”

And singing thus, he went skipping homewards, and on the way, he met a fowl and called to it to get out of the way or he would eat it — singing —

“I ate a gourdful of mice,
And by the side of the ant-hill
I ate the crow: Hurrah!”

And as the fowl did not move, he ate it up; then he skipped on and came to a goat, and he sang his verse and told it to get out of the way and as it did not, he ate it; and in the same way he met and killed a sheep and a cow, and he ate the liver and lungs of the cow, and then he killed a buffalo and ate its liver and lungs, and by this time he was as full as he could hold.

Then he came to a pool of water and he called to it to get out of the way or he would drink it up and, as it did not move, he drank it dry.

Then he came to a post and said, “Get out of my way or I will jump over you —

“I ate a gourdful of mice
And by the side of the ant-hill
I ate the crow: Hurrah!”

And so saying he tried to jump over it, but he was so full of what he had eaten and drunk that he leaped short and fell on the point of the stake and was transfixed, so that he died.

Next: The Tiger Cub and the Calf

(600 words)

Santal: The Tiger Cub and the Calf

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

The Tiger Cub and the Calf

A Tigress and a Cow used to graze in a dense jungle, and they were both with young. They became great friends and agreed that they would marry their children to each other.

In the course of time, the tigress gave birth to a she-cub and the cow to a bull-calf. They kept the young ones in the same place and used to go and graze together, and then return at the same time to suckle their young. On their way back they used to drink at a certain river, the tigress up the stream and the cow lower down.

One day it happened that the cow got first to the river and drank at the upper drinking place, and the tigress drank lower down. And the froth from the cow’s mouth floated down the stream, and the tigress tasted it and found it nice, and this made her think that the flesh of the cow must also be good, so she resolved to eat the cow one day.

The cow saw what was in the mind of the tigress, and she left some of her milk in a bowl, and said to her calf: “The tigress has resolved to eat me; watch this milk, and when you see it turn red like blood, you will know that I have been killed;” then she went off to graze with the tigress.

The two youngsters always used to play together very happily, but that day the calf would not play but kept going to look at the bowl of milk, and the tigress cub asked the reason. The calf told her what his mother had said; then the tigress cub said that if this happened, she would never suck from her mother again, and it would be better for them both to run away.

So the two kept going to look at the bowl of milk, and about midday they saw that it had changed to blood, and they both began to weep.

Shortly after, the tigress came back, and flies were clustered round her mouth because of the blood on it. The tigress told her daughter to come and suck, but she said that she would wait till the cow came, and then she and the calf could have their meal together as usual; at this, the tigress frowned terribly, and the cub was frightened, so she said, “Very well, mother, I will suck, but first go and wash your mouth; why are the flies clustered round it?”

So the tigress went off, but she did not wash; she only ate some more of the cow. While she was away, the calf and the cub ran off to another jungle, and when the tigress came back, she searched for them with horrid roarings and could not find them, and if she had found them, she would have killed them.

Next: The Jackal and the Chickens

(500 words)

Santal: The Jackal and the Chickens

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

The Jackal and the Chickens

Once upon a time a jackal and a hen were great friends and regarded each other as brother and sister, and they agreed to have a feast to celebrate their friendship, so they both brewed rice beer, and they first drank at the jackal’s house and then went to the hen’s house, and there they drank so much that the hen got blind drunk, and while she lay intoxicated, the jackal ate her up.

The jackal found the flesh so nice that he made up his mind to eat the hen’s chickens too, so the next day he went to their house and found them all crying, “Cheep, cheep,” and he asked what was the matter; they said that they had lost their mother; he told them to cheer up and asked where they slept; they told him “on the shelf in the wall.”

Then he went away, but the chickens saw that he meant to come and eat them at night, so they did not go to sleep on the shelf but filled it with razors and knives, and when the jackal came at night and felt about the shelf, he got badly cut and ran away screaming.

But a few day later he paid another visit to the chickens and condoled with them on the loss of their mother and again asked where they slept, and they told him, “In the fireplace.” Directly the jackal was gone, they filled the stove with live embers and covered them up with ashes, and went to sleep themselves inside a drum.

At night the jackal came and put his paws into the fireplace, but he only scraped the hot embers up against his belly and got burnt; this made him scream, and the chickens burst out laughing.

The jackal heard them and said, “You have got me burnt; now I am going to eat you.”

They said, “Yes, uncle, but please eat us outside the house; you did not eat our mother in her own house — take us to yonder flat rock.”

So the jackal took up the drum, but when he got to the rock, he accidentally let it fall and it broke and the chickens ran away in all directions, but the chicken that had been at the bottom of the drum had got covered with the droppings of the others and could not fly away, so the jackal thought, “Well, it is the will of heaven that I should have only one chicken; it is doubtless for the best!”

The chicken said to the jackal, “I see that you will eat me, but you cannot eat me in this state; wash me clean first.”

So the jackal took the chicken to a pool and washed it; then the chicken asked to be allowed to get a little dry, but the jackal said that if it got dry it would fly away.

“Then,” said the chicken, “rub me dry with your snout, and I will myself tell you when I am ready to be eaten,” so the jackal rubbed it dry and then proceeded to eat it, but directly the jackal got it in his mouth, it voided there, so the jackal spat it out, and it flew away.

The jackal thought that it had gone into a hole in a white ant-hill, but really it had hidden elsewhere; however, the jackal felt for it in the hole and then tried in vain to scrape the hole larger; as he could not get into the hole, he determined to sit and wait till hunger or suffocation forced the chicken to come out. So he sat and watched, and he sat so long that the white ants ate off his hind quarters; at last he gave up and went off to the rice fields to look for fish and crabs.

There he saw an old woman catching fish, and he asked to be allowed to help her. So the old woman sat on the bank, and the jackal jumped and twisted about in the water and presently he caught a potha fish which he ate, but as the jackal had no hind quarters, the fish passed through him none the worse. Soon the jackal caught the same fish over again, and he laughed at the old woman because she had caught none. She told him that he was catching the same fish over and over again, and when he would not believe her, she told him to mark with a thorn the next one which he caught; he did so, and then found that he really was catching and eating the same fish over and over again.

At this he was much upset and asked what he should do. The old woman advised him to go to a cobbler and get patched up; so he went and killed a fowl and took it to a cobbler and offered it to him if he would put him to rights; so the cobbler sewed on a leather patch with a long leather tail which rapped on the ground as the jackal went along. Then the jackal went to a village to steal fowls and he danced along with his tail tapping, and sang:

“Now the Moghul cavalry are coming
And the Koenda Rajas.
Run away or they will utterly destroy you.”

And when the villagers heard this, they all ran away, and the jackal entered the village and killed as many fowls as he wanted.

A few days later he went again to the village and frightened away the villagers as before, but one old woman was too feeble to run away, and she hid in a pig sty, and one fowl that the jackal chased ran into this sty, and the jackal followed it, and when he saw the old woman, he told her to catch the fowl for him or he would knock her teeth out, but she told him to catch it himself, so he caught and ate it.

Then he said to the old woman, “Say Toyo,” (jackal) and she said, “Toyo.” Then he took a currypounder and knocked all her teeth out and told her again to say “Toyo,” but as she had no teeth, she said “Hoyo;” this amused the jackal immensely, and he went away laughing.

When the villagers returned, the old woman told them that it was only a jackal who had attacked the village, so they decided to kill him, but one man said, “You won’t be able to catch him; let us make an image of this old woman and cover it with birdlime and set it up at the end of the village street; he will stop and abuse her, and we shall know where he is.”

So they did this, and the next morning, when the jackal came singing along the road, they hid inside their houses. When the jackal reached the village, he saw the figure of the old woman with its arms stretched out, and he said to it, “What are you blocking my road for? Get out of the way; I knocked your teeth out yesterday: aren’t you afraid? Get out of the way or I will kick you out.”

As the figure did not move, he gave it a kick, and his leg was caught in the birdlime; then he said, “Let me go, you old hag, or I will give you a slap.” Then he gave it a slap, and his front paw was stuck fast; then he slapped at it with his other paw and that stuck; then he tried to bite the figure, and his jaws got caught also, and when he was thus helpless, the villagers came out and beat him to death, and that was the end of the jackal.

Next: The Jackal Punished

(1300 words)

Santal: The Jackal Punished

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

The Jackal Punished

Once a hen and a jackal were great friends, and they decided to have a feast and each brewed beer for the occasion; the hen brewed with rice and maize and millet, and the jackal brewed with lizards, locusts, frogs, and fish. And when the brew was ready, they first went to the jackal’s house, but the hen could not touch his beer; it smelt so bad and the jackal drank it all. Then they went to the hen’s house, and her beer was very nice, and they both drank till the hen got very drunk and began to stagger about, and the jackal made up his mind that the hen must be very nice to eat as her beer was so good to drink, and when he saw her drunk, he was delighted and sang:

“Fowl, do not graze in the field!
The jackal laughs to see you.
Paddy bird, do not fish in the pond!
You pecked a piece of sedge thinking it was a frog’s leg!
Do not drink rice beer, O fowl!
The jackal laughs to see you.

And so saying, he gobbled her up, and her chickens cried at the sight. Then the jackal resolved to eat the chickens also, so he came back the next day and asked them where they slept, and they said, “In the hearth.” But when the jackal had gone, the chickens planned how they should save their lives.

Their mother had laid an egg and, as there was no one to hatch it now, they said, “Egg, you must lie in the fireplace and blind the jackal,” and they said to the paddy husker, “You must stand by the door, and when the jackal runs out, you must knock him down,” and they told the paddy mortar to wait on the roof over the door and fall and crush the jackal.

So they put the egg among the hot ashes in the fireplace, and they themselves sat in a cupboard with axes ready, and when the jackal came, he went to the fireplace and scratched out the ashes, and the egg burst and spurted into his eyes and blinded him, and as he ran out of the door, the paddy husker knocked him over, and as he crawled away, the paddy mortar fell on him from the roof and crushed him; then the chickens ran out and chopped him to pieces with their axes and revenged the death of their mother.

Next: The Tigers and the Cat

(400 words)

Santal: The Tigers and the Cat

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

The Tigers and the Cat

In former days, tigers and cats were friends and used to hunt together and share the game they caught, and they did not eat the game raw, but used to cook it as men do.

One day some tigers and a cat had killed a deer, and they had no fire with which to cook it; then the tigers said to the cat, “You are small; go and beg a light from yonder village.” But the cat said that he was afraid to go; however, they urged him, saying, “You have a thin tail and plump feet; you can bring it in a trice.”

So, as they all insisted on his going, he at last consented and said, “Well, I will go, but don’t expect me to be very quick; if I get a good opportunity for fetching the fire, I will come back soon.”

They said, “All right, go and run off with a small fire-brand, and we will meet you outside the village.”

So the cat went off and, coming to a house, went inside to pull a firebrand from the hearth. On the fire some milk was boiling, and the cat thought, “This smells very nice; I will have a taste of it,” and he found it so nice that he made up his mind to drink it all before he took away the fire-brand.

But in order to lap the milk, he had to put his feet on the fireplace, and it was so hot that he burnt his feet and had to get down; so then he sat down and waited till the fire went out and the hearth grew cool, and then he lapped up the milk and ran off with a piece of smouldering wood.

Meanwhile, the tigers had got tired of waiting and had eaten the deer raw, and they were very angry at being made to eat raw flesh and swore that they would eat the cat too. When they saw the cat bringing the fire, they ran to meet him and abused him and cried out, “You have made us eat raw flesh; we will eat you too, dung and all.”

On hearing this threat, the cat ran back to the village in fear of his life, and the tigers followed in pursuit, but when they got near the village, the village dogs all ran out barking, and the tigers were frightened and turned back, and the cat was saved.

From that day tigers and leopards have eaten raw flesh, and cats bury their excrement because of what the tigers had said.

Every day the tigers went to the village in search of the cat, but when the dogs barked they slunk away for the tigers were very frightened at the sight of the dogs’ curly tails; they thought that the tails were nooses and that they would be strangled by them.

One day one of the tigers met a jackal and called to him, “Nephew, listen to me; a cat made us eat raw flesh and has escaped into this village and I want to catch it, but the dogs come barking at me. I don’t mind that, but I am very frightened of their nooses. Now, you are very like a dog; cannot you go and tell them not to use their nooses?”

The jackal answered, “Uncle, you are quite mistaken; what you see are their tails, not nooses; they will not strangle you with them.”

So the tiger took courage and, the next day, went to the village to hunt for the cat, but he could not find it. And when the dogs barked, he got angry and caught and killed one of them, and from that time tigers and leopards eat dogs.

Next: The Elephant and the Ants

(600 words)

Santal: The Elephant and the Ants

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

The Elephant and the Ants

In the days of old, there was a great deal more jungle than there is now, and wild elephants were very numerous; once upon a time a red ant and a black ant were burrowing in the ground when a wild elephant appeared and said, “Why are you burrowing here? I will trample all your work to pieces,” the ants answered, “Why do you talk like this? Do not despise us because we are small; perhaps we are better than you in some ways.”

The elephant said, “Do not talk nonsense: there is nothing at which you could beat me; I am in all ways the largest and most powerful animal on the face of the earth.”

Then the ants said, “Well, let us run a race and see who will win; unless you win, we will not admit that you are supreme.”

At this, the elephant got into a rage and shouted, “Well, come we will start at once,” and it set off to run with all its might and, when it got tired, it looked down at the ground, and there were two ants.

So it started off again and, when it stopped and looked down, there on the ground were two ants, so it ran on again, but wherever it stopped, it saw the ants, and at last it ran so far that it dropped down dead from exhaustion.

Now it is a saying that ants are more numerous in this world than any other kind of living creature, and what happened was that the two ants never ran at all but stayed where they were, but whenever the elephant looked at the ground, it saw some ants running about and thought that they were the first two, and so ran itself to death.

This story teaches us not to despise the poor man, because one day he may have an opportunity to put us to shame.

From this story of the elephant we should learn this lesson: the Creator knows why He made some animals big and some small, and why He made some men fools, so we should neither bully nor cheat men who happen to be born stupid.

Next: A Fox and His Wife

(400 words)

Santal: A Fox and His Wife

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

A Fox and His Wife

Once upon a time, there were a fox and his wife who lived in a hole with their five little ones. Every evening the two foxes used to make their way to a bazar to feed on the scraps thrown away by the bazar people, and every night on their way home the following conversation passed between them.

The fox would say to his wife, “Come tell me how much wit you have,” and she would answer him by, “Only so much as would fill a small vegetable basket.”

Then she in her turn would ask, “And how much wit have you?”

“As much as would load twelve buffaloes.”

One night as they were on their way home as usual, the two suddenly found themselves face to face with a tiger, who greeted them by saying, “At last, my friends, I have got you.”

At this, the fox, for all his wit, could not utter a word but crouched down and shook with fright. Mrs. Fox, however, was not at all inclined to give way to despair. She saluted the tiger and said, “Ah, uncle, do not eat us up just now; I and my husband have a dispute and we want you to settle it for us.”

The tiger was mollified by being addressed by so respectful a name as uncle and answered in a gentler voice, “Well, my niece, tell me what is the point, and I will decide it for you.”

“It is this,” went on Mrs. Fox; “we have five children, and we wish to divide them between us, but we cannot decide how to do so. I say that I will take three and leave him two, while he wants to take three and leave me two. We came out to look for some man to settle the dispute but have not met one, and now providentially you have appeared before us like a god; no doubt you will be able to make the division for us.”

The tiger reflected that if he managed things well, he would be able to eat not only the two foxes but their young ones as well, so he graciously agreed to make the division.

The foxes then invited him to come back with them to the hole in which they lived, and when they reached it, Mr. Fox bolted into it saying that he was going to bring out the children. As, however, he did not come out again, Mrs. Fox said that it was clear that he could not manage the children by himself, and she would go and help, and thereupon proceeded to back into the hole, keeping her face turned towards the tiger.

Seeing her disappearing, the tiger thought to seize her, but as she kept her eyes on him, he could only say, “Hullo, what is the matter? Why are you going in backwards?”

“Oh, uncle,” replied Mrs. Fox, “how could I turn my back on so great a personage as you?” and with that she disappeared.

Presently the tiger heard the two foxes calling out from inside, “Goodbye, uncle, you can go away now; we have arranged how to divide the children ourselves.”

Then he saw how he had been fooled and flew into a terrible rage and tried to squeeze his way into the hole, but it was much too small and at last he had to go away baffled, and so the foxes were saved by Mrs. Fox’s wit.

Next: The Jackal and the Crocodiles

(600 words)

Santal: The Jackal and the Crocodiles

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

The Jackal and the Crocodiles

Once upon a time there was a Raja who had an only son. As the boy grew up, his father sent him to a school to learn to read and write.

One day on his way back from school, the boy sat down by the road side to rest and placed his school books on the ground by his side. Suddenly a jackal came along and snatched up the bundle of books and ran away with it, and though the boy ran after it, he failed to catch the jackal and had to go and tell his father how he had lost his school books.

The Raja told him not to mind, as it was a very good omen and meant that he would grow up as clever as a jackal, and so the matter ended as far as the boy was concerned, and his father bought him a new set of books.

But the jackal ran off to the side of a tank and, taking a book from the bundle, sat down and began to read it aloud. He kept on saying over and over again “Ibor, obor, iakoro sotro” . . . “Ibor obor iakoro sotro.”

Hearing the noise, a crocodile who lived in the tank poked his head out of the water and began, “Well, nephew, what is that you are repeating?”

“I am only reading a book, uncle.”

“What, nephew, do you know how to read and write?”

“Yes, certainly I do,” answered the jackal.

“In that case,” returned the crocodile, “would you mind teaching my five children?”

The jackal was quite willing to be their master, but a difficulty struck the crocodile; the jackal lived on high land, and the little crocodiles could not go so far from the water. The jackal at once suggested a way out of the difficulty: let the crocodile dig a little pool near where the jackal lived and put the children into it. Then the jackal could take the little crocodiles out of it when he was giving them their lessons and put them back again when they had finished. So it was arranged, and in two or three days the crocodile dug the pool, and the jackal began the lessons.

Each morning the jackal took the five little crocodiles out of the water and told them to repeat after him what he said, and then he began, “Ibor obor iakoro sotro” . . . “Ibor obor iakoro sotro.”

But try as they might, the little crocodiles could not pronounce the words properly; then the jackal lost his temper and cuffed them soundly. In spite of this, they still showed no signs of improvement, till at last the jackal made up his mind that he could not go on with such unsatisfactory pupils, and that the best thing he could do would be to eat them up one at a time.

So the next morning he addressed the little crocodiles, “I see that you can’t learn when I take you in class all together; in future I will have you up one at a time and teach you like that.” So he took one out of the water and began to teach it, but the little crocodile could not pronounce its words properly, so in a very short time the jackal got angry and gobbled it up. The next day he took out another, which soon met the same fate as its brother, and so things went on till the jackal had eaten four out of the five.

When there was only one left, the crocodile came to see how the lessons were getting on. The sight of him put the jackal in a terrible fright, but he answered the crocodile that the children were making very fair progress. “Well, I want to see them. Come along and let us have a look at them.”

This was awkward for the jackal, but his wits did not desert him; he ran on ahead to the pool and, going into the water, caught the one little crocodile which remained and held it up, saying, “See, here is one.”

Then he popped it under the water and brought it up again and said, “See, here’s another,” and this he did five times and persuaded the crocodile that he had seen his five children.

The crocodile pretended to be satisfied, but he was not quite easy in his mind and would have preferred to see all the five little ones at once. However, he said nothing but made up his mind to watch the jackal, so the next day he hid himself and waited to see what happened.

He saw the jackal take the little crocodile out of the water and begin the lesson — “Ibor obor iakoro.”

Then when the unfortunate pupil still failed to pronounce the words, the jackal began to give it cuffs and blows. At this sight, the crocodile ran forward and caught the jackal, crying out ,“Show me my other four little ones; is this the way you treat my children?”

The jackal had no answer to give, and the crocodile soon put an end to his life and took back his one remaining child to the tank where he lived.

Next: The Hyaena Outwitted

(900 words)

Santal: The Hyena Outwitted

This story is part of the Santal Folklore unit. Story source: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

The Hyaena Outwitted

Once upon a time, there was a great tiger who lived in a forest, and all the other animals that lived in the forest treated him as their Raja, down to the very birds. They all felt safe under his protection because he was so much feared that no men dared hunt in that forest.

One day it happened that this Raja tiger killed a man and made such a enormous meal on the flesh that he got very bad indigestion. The pain grew worse and worse till he felt sure that his last hour was come.

In his agony, he sent for a hyaena and offered to make him his dewan, if only he would call all the other animals of the forest to come and pay a farewell visit to their lord. The hyaena readily agreed but thought it would be better to send another messenger while he stayed by the tiger to see that all the animals duly presented themselves. Just then a crow flew overhead, so they called him and deputed him to summon all the animals.

The crow flew off and in a short time all the animals assembled before the tiger and paid their respects to him and expressed wishes for his speedy recovery — all except the jackals. They had been summoned along with the others, but somehow they paid no attention and only remembered about it in the afternoon.

Then they were very frightened as to what would be the consequence of their remissness, but one chief jackal stood up and told them not to fear, as he would contrive a way of getting the better of the hyaena. There was nothing else to be done, so they had to put what trust they could in their chief and follow him to the Tiger.

On his way, the chief jackal picked up a few roots and took them with him. When they reached the place where the suffering monarch lay, the hyaena at once began to abuse them for being late, and the Tiger also angrily asked why they had not come before; then the chief jackal began humbly, “O Maharaja, we were duly summoned; your messenger is not to blame, but we reflected that it was useless merely to go and look at you when you were so ill. That could do you no good; so we bestirred ourselves to try and find some medicine that would cure you. We have searched the length and breadth of the jungle and have found all that is necessary, except one thing and that we have failed to find.”

“Tell me what it is,” said the hyaena, “and I will at once despatch all these animals to look for it and it will surely be found.”

“Yes,” echoed the tiger, “what is it?”

“Maharaja,” said the jackal, “when you take these medicines, you must lie down on the fresh skin of a hyaena which has been flayed alive, but the only hyaena we can find in the forest is your dewan.”

“The world can well bear the loss of one hyaena,” said the Tiger; “take him and skin him.”

At these words, all the animals set upon the hyaena and flayed him alive, and the tiger lay down on the skin and took the medicines brought by the jackal, and as he was not seriously ill, his pain soon began to pass away.

“That is a lesson to the hyaena not to scold us and get us into trouble,” said the jackal, as he went home.

Next: The Crow and the Egret

(600 words)

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