Mythology and Folklore UN-Textbook: Unit: Laos

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Myth-Folklore Unit: Folklore of Laos

Overview. Laos is located in southeast Asia, bordered by China, Vietnam, Cambodia, and Myanmar (Burma). It is a tiny country, not much bigger than Kansas in size, but it has a marvelous storytelling tradition as you will discover in this selection of stories from Fleeson's Laos Folk-Lore. There are Buddhist stories here, along with legends of native Laotian spirit-beings. You will find love stories and other tales of human drama (some that end happily, while others end sadly), plus legends of gods and giants, wizards and wise men, and delightful origin stories that explain why rice grains are so small, where lightning comes from, how the elephant got its funny-looking lips, and why parrots just repeat what they hear, not daring to say what they are really thinking!

Language. The book is written in contemporary English, so the language used should not pose any problems.

Story Length. These are all single-page stories.

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: Folklore of Laos. Click "Older Posts" at the bottom of that page to see the second page.

READING A:

READING B:

(rice fields in Laos)

Laos: A Child of The Woods

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

(Luang Prabang Range)

A Child of The Woods

Deep in the forest of the North there is a large village of jungle people, and among them is one old woman who is held in reverence by all. The stranger who asks why she is honored as a princess is thus answered by her:

Verily, I have much boon, for I am but a child of nature. When I was a young maiden, it fell upon a day that my heart grew hot with anger. For many days the anger grew until it filled my whole heart, also were my eyes so red that I could see but dimly, and no longer could I live in the village or among my own people, for I hated all men and I felt that the beasts of the forest were more to me than my kindred.

Therefore, I fled from the face of man into the jungle where no human foot had ever gone. All day I journeyed, running as though my feet would never weary and feeling no pangs of hunger. When the darkness closed about me, I was not afraid, but lay down under the shelter of a tree and, for a time, slept peacefully, as peacefully as though in my own home.

At length, I was awakened by the breath of an animal and, in the clear light of the moon, I saw a large tiger before me. It smelled of my face, my hands and my feet, then seated itself by my head and watched me through the night, and I lay there unafraid. In the early morning, the tiger departed and I continued my journey. Quieter was my heart. Still, I disliked my own people but had no fear of the beasts or the reptiles of the forest.

During the day I ate of the fruit which grew wild in abundance, and at night I slept ’neath a tree, protected and guarded by fierce, wild beasts which molested not my sleep. For many days I wandered thus, and the nights were secure, for the wild beasts watched over and protected me.

“Thus my heart grew cool in my bosom, and I no longer hated my people and, after one moon had gone, I found myself near a village. The people wondered to see me approach from the jungle, dreaded as being the jungle of the man-eating tiger. When I related my story, the people were filled with wonder and brought rich gifts to me. For a year and a day I abode there, and no more the wild beasts molested their cattle.

But my heart yearned to see the face of my kindred again, so, laden with silver, gold and rich garments and seated in the howdah of an elephant, the people escorted me to my own village, and here have I abode in content these one hundred years.

Next: The Enchanted Mountain

(500 words)

Laos: The Enchanted Mountain

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

(Khoun Kong Leng Lake)

The Enchanted Mountain

The hunters who are continually going about from place to place, climbing up high hills, descending into deep ravines, and making ways through jungles in search of the wild bison and other game, tell strange tales of an enchanted place away on the top of a lofty mountain.

There is a beautiful lake which is as bright and clear as a drop of morning dew hanging on the petal of the white water-lily and, when you drink of it, you are no longer aweary; new life has come into you, and your body is more vigorous than ever before. The flowers on the margin of this enchanted lake are more beautiful than those that grow in any other spot, and such is the love of the cherishing spirits for it that they care for it as for no other place in this world. Bananas of a larger growth than can be found in the gardens of man, and oranges, sweeter to the taste than those we ever eat, are there. The fruits of all trees, more beautiful to the eye and richer than man can produce, are there, free to those who can find them.

All the fowls usually nurtured by man and flocking about his door are there, and they are not affrighted by the presence of the hunter but come at his call. Should the hunter wish to kill them, his arrow cannot pierce their charmed bodies to deprive them of life, but the arrow falls harmless to the ground because the spirits protect them and their lives are sacred. Great fields of rice are about this place, and the hunter marvels at the size of the grains and at the strength of the stalks. No field cared for by man has seen grain like that which the spirits nourish.

Many men, on hearing of this wonderful mountain-top, have sought it, but all have returned unsuccessful to their homes, saying no such place is on this earth. Only the hunter who has chased the game through the jungle, o’er the streams and up the steep mountain-sides, when tired and discouraged because the coveted prize has gone far beyond his reach, is rewarded for all his labor when he finds himself in the garden of fruit or on the margin of the enchanted lake whose waters give renewed vigor to his wearied body.

Often, when the hunter desires to eat of the flesh of the fowls, he endeavors to kill the fowls, but no effort of his can take their life, as the spirits hold them in their care. No mortal can harm them. Nor can the hunter take any of the fruit away for, as he leaves the spot, no matter how he may hold it, it vanishes from his hand.

Thus, no man who has not seen the place has eaten of the fruit nor drank of the water; so, many doubt their existence, for such is the heart of man that he must touch with his hands, see with his eyes, or taste with his tongue, ere he can believe.

Nevertheless, on the top of the lofty mountain there is the lake with the cool waters, clear and beautiful, where the fowls swim on its surface or drink from its margin, and the grain and the fruit ripen for those who are loved of the spirits and are led by them to this cherished spot where they may rest and be refreshed, and then return to their wives and children and tell them of the care of the spirits.

The little ones, who have hearts free from guile, believe.

Next: The Spirit-Guarded Cave

(600 words)

Laos: The Spirit-Guarded Cave

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

The Spirit-Guarded Cave

When the people of the far north were molested by their foes and were in continual fear, they consulted together, saying, “Our lives are spent in trying to escape from our enemies and no joy can be ours. Let us flee to the south country where, if the people make slaves of us, we can at least know that our lives will be spared, and life, even in slavery, is better than this constant fear of our enemies destroying both ourselves and our dwelling-places and taking our cattle for their own.”

Therefore, they gathered together all their household goods, secreted their money and jewels about their persons and, loading their cattle with rice, they commenced their toilsome journey through the narrow jungle paths and across the high mountains on their way to the south, where they hoped for peace and safety.

The way was long and difficult, and the rice was all eaten and the cattle killed and consumed before they had nearly reached their journey’s end. Then the fugitives commenced to use their money to buy food that they might have strength for the journey, and they whispered one to another that the people looked with covetous eyes on their hoard of money and jewels, and they feared they would be slain because of the greed of the people.

One man, wiser than the others, said, “Why do we endanger our lives for our possessions? Can we not find some secret place in which to leave our money and jewels and, when brighter days come to us, we can return and find them even as we left them?”

All the people cried, “Your words are wise. Let us do accordingly,” and as these people were loved of the spirits, they were led to a deep cave in the midst of a wood where man seldom came, and there they left their possessions in the care of the spirits who promised to guard them until in the days when, life being brighter and more secure, the owners would come and claim them.

(forest in Laos, photo by gilichupak)

The people journeyed on to the south country, and there lived as slaves. Many generations of them lived and died, but they could not escape nor come to claim the vast wealth and jewels which they had left in care of the spirits of the cave.

The story became known, and the inhabitants of all the surrounding countries went to the cave and sought to secure the treasure. But such was the care of the spirits that no man with safety could enter the cave. A light was instantly extinguished if let down into the deep pit leading into the chamber where the treasure was, for the spirits blew their breath upon it and it was no more.

All devices were tried to obtain the treasure, and from all parts of the country the people came to try to overcome the charm which the spirits had placed upon the cave, but no one was able to break it. One man went even into the treasure chamber and filled his hands with the precious stones, but he was overcome by a deadly sickness and was forced to replace the jewels in the treasure chest and flee for his life so as to escape the wrath of the guarding spirits.

Even the white, foreign strangers, who have come into the land and placed their strong hands on the elephants and the trees of the forest and claimed them for their use, were baffled and driven back by the faithful spirits when they endeavored to enter the treasure chamber, and for all time this treasure shall remain there, for if the white foreigner, by his wisdom or by his craft, fails to obtain it, verily it will remain untouched forever.

Next: The Mountain Spirits and the Stone Mortars

(600 words)

Laos: The Mountain Spirits and the Stone Mortars

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

The Mountain Spirits and the Stone Mortars

The spirits, who lived in the mountains near a large city, upon a time wanted money for some purpose, and they brought down to the people of the city a number of large and heavy stone mortars which they commanded them to buy at an exorbitant price.

The men of the city said, “The price you ask is too great; moreover, we have no need of your mortars, as they are too large for us to use in pounding out our rice or for any other purpose. Therefore, we do not wish to buy them.”

The spirits were very angry because they did not cheerfully agree to pay the money, and answered, “If you will not buy these mortars which we have brought for your use, you shall carry them up to our home on the top of the mountain, for the labor of bringing them down has wearied us.”

Not daring to incur the wrath of the spirits, and yet being utterly unable to carry the huge mortars to the high mountain, they paid the price, for, they reasoned, “Is any price too great to risk our falling under the displeasure of the evil spirits?”

The spirits departed with the money, and to this day, the stone mortars are scattered about the streets of that city, and when strangers ask why they are there and what use is made of them, this story will be told, and all people say it is verily the truth, for do you not see them with your eyes, and how else could they have come here, had not the spirits brought them?

Next: Why the Lip of the Elephant Droops

(Plain of Jars, Laos)

(300 words)

Laos: Why the Lip of the Elephant Droops

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

Why the Lip of the Elephant Droops

In the days when the earth was young, lived a poor man and his wife who had twelve daughters whom they no longer loved and no longer desired. Day after day, the father and mother planned to be free of them, and upon a day, the father made ready a basket; in the bottom he placed ashes, but on the top he spread rice. Taking this basket with him, he called his daughters to come go to the jungle to hunt for game.

When the heat of the day had come, they all sat down to eat and, after they had eaten, the father gave each daughter a bamboo joint and bade her get water for him. The joints were so made that they would not hold water, and while the maidens endeavored to make them so they would, the father returned home. In vain did the maidens try to make the joints hold the water and after a time they sought their father, but, lo, the father was gone and only the basket remained!

Examining the basket, they found rice but on the top and the bottom filled with ashes, so they knew their parents sought to be free of them by leaving them in the trackless jungle. Unable to find their way out, there they slept peacefully, for the wild beasts molest not those who fearlessly stay with them.

As the eye of day opened in the East, the forlorn maidens beheld, as they awakened, a beautiful woman standing near, and of her they sought help.

“Come with me and be companions to my little daughter. Often am I away from home and she is lonely. Come home with me, play with my daughter, and in exchange I will give you a home,” said the beautiful woman.

Gladly the maidens consented and went with the woman to her home far in the jungle. All places save one small garden were they free to enter. And upon a day, the fair woman said, “I go to the jungle and will not return until the eye of day has closed. Do not play in the small garden.” Scarcely had she gone ere she returned, but the maidens had not sought the garden.

Again, upon a day, the fair woman said, “I go to the jungle but for a short time. Go not to play in the small garden.”

Thinking she would this time be gone all day, the maidens sought the small garden, and lo, it was strewn with human bones! Then they knew the fair woman was a cannibal. Full of fear, they fled, and, as they fled they met a cow.

“Protect us,” they cried.

The cow opened its mouth and the maidens jumped in. Thus they journeyed from the cannibal’s home. As the cow returned, it met the fair woman seeking the maidens.

“Have you seen twelve maidens pass this way?” asked she.

“No,” answered the cow.

“If you do not speak the truth, I’ll kill and eat you,” cried she.

“I saw them as they made haste in that way,” replied the cow. The cannibal woman pursued that way.

After the cow left them, the maidens hastened on and as they hastened, they met an elephant and begged it to save them from the cannibal.

The elephant opened its mouth and the maidens jumped in, but so slowly did one jump that an edge of her garment hung out of the mouth. As they journeyed, the cannibal overtook them.

“Did you see twelve maidens hastening toward the city?” asked the cannibal.

“No,” answered the elephant.

“From this time forth forever the lip of thy mouth shall hang down as a garment,” cursed the cannibal, for she had seen the edge of the maiden’s garment hanging out of the elephant’s mouth and knew it was protecting the twelve maidens.

And to this day doth the lip of the elephant hang down like a garment.

Next: The Man in the Moon

(Indian elephant)

(700 words)

Laos: The Man in the Moon

You can see a Japanese version of this story, with a quite different ending, in the Japanese Fairy Tales unit for this class: The Stone-Cutter.

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

The Man in the Moon

There was a blacksmith once, who complained: “I am not well, and my work is too warm. I want to be a stone on the mountain. There it must be cool, for the wind blows and the trees give a shade.”

A wise man, who had power over all things, replied, “Go thou, be a stone.” And he was a stone, high up on the mountain-side.

It happened a stone-cutter came that way for stone and when he saw the one that had been the blacksmith, he knew it was what he sought, and he began to cut it.

The stone cried out: “This hurts. I no longer want to be a stone. A stone-cutter I want to be. That would be pleasant.”

The wise man, humoring him, said, “Be a cutter.” Thus he became a stone-cutter and, as he went seeking suitable stone, he grew tired, and his feet were sore.

He whimpered, “I no longer want to cut stone. I would be the sun; that would be pleasant.”

The wise man commanded, “Be the sun.” And he was the sun.

But the sun was warmer than the blacksmith, than a stone, than a stone-cutter, and he complained, “I do not like this. I would be the moon. It looks cool.”

The wise man spake yet again, “Be the moon.” And he was the moon.

“This is warmer than being the sun,” murmured he, “for the light from the sun shines on me ever. I do not want to be the moon. I would be a smith again. That, verily, is the best life.”

But the wise man replied, “I am weary of your changing. You wanted to be the moon; the moon you are, and it you will remain.”

And in yon high heaven lives he to this day.

Next: The Origin of Lightning

(photo by Omar Bariffi)

(300 words)

Laos: The Origin of Lightning

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

The Origin of Lightning

There was once a great chief who desired above all things to be happy in the future life; therefore, he continually made feasts for the priests and the poor, spending much money in making merit.

He had ten wives, nine of whom helped him in all the merit-makings, but the head wife, his favorite, would never take part. Laughing and making herself beautiful in soft garments and jewels, she gave naught to the priests.

And on a day, when the great chief and his nine merit-making wives were no more but had gone to live in the sky on account of their merit-making, the great chief longed for his favorite and, taking a glass, he looked down on the earth to see her. After many days, he beheld her as a crane hunting for food on the border of a lake.

The great chief, to try her heart and to see if she had repented, came down from his home in the sky in the form of a fish and swam to the crane. Seeing the fish, the crane pecked at it, but the fish sprang out of the water, and when the crane saw it was alive, she would not touch it. Again the fish floated near the crane and she pecked at it, but on finding it was alive let it escape.

Then was the heart of the great chief glad, for he saw that his favorite wife would not destroy life even to satisfy her hunger, and he knew that her merit was such she could be born in the form of a woman again.

It happened on a day that the crane died and, when again born, had the form of a gardener’s child. As the child grew in years and stature, she was fairer than any other in the land and, when a maiden, the father and mother made a feast, inviting all the people to come. During the feast, they gave a wreath of beautiful flowers to their daughter and said, “Throw this into the air, and on whosesoever head it falls, that one will be to thee a husband.”

The great chief, her husband of old, seeking her, came down to the earth in the form of an old man and, when the maiden cast the wreath into the air, it fell on the head of this old man.

Great sport was made of him, and tauntingly the people cried, “Does this bent stick think he is mate for our lotus flower?”

But the fair maiden placed her hand in the old man’s hand and, together, they rose into the air.

In vain they sought to detain them — the father even shot at the old man, but they were soon lost to sight and to this day, when the people see the chain lightning in the sky, they say it is the wreath of the beautiful maiden; when the lightning strikes, they say it is the gardener shooting at the old man; and, when the heat lightning flashes, they say it is the great chief flashing his glass over the earth in search of his favorite and beautiful wife.

Next: The Parrot and the Minor Bird

(chained cloud-to-cloud lightning)

(500 words)

Laos: The Parrot and the Minor Bird

The "minor bird" referred to here is usually spelled "myna bird" or "mynah bird." Find out more at Wikipedia.

There is a similar type of story in which a parrot gets into trouble for reporting on its mistress's infidelities. You can see a collection of those stories here: The Parrot and the Adulterous Woman.

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

Why the Parrot and the Minor Bird but Echo the Words of Man

Long ago people caught and nourished the sao bird because it learned the language of man more readily than either the parrot or minor bird. While they had to be taught with much care, the sao bird had but to hear a word and it could readily utter it; moreover, the sao bird could utter its own thoughts.

Upon a time a man of the north country, owning a sao bird, stole a buffalo from his neighbor and killed it. Part of the buffalo the man cooked and ate; the rest he hid either in the rice bin or over the rice house.

Seeking the buffalo, next day, the neighbor asked the man if he had seen it.

The man replied, “No.”

The sao bird, however, cried out, “He killed it; part he hid in the rice bin, part over the rice house.”

The neighbor searched in both of these places and found the parts just as the sao bird had said.

“I did not steal the buffalo,” insisted the man.

But the bird ever called, “He killed it and put part into the rice bin, and part over the rice house.”

Unable to decide between the words of the man and the words of the bird, the neighbor appealed to the court. And, it happened, the night before the trial, that the man took the sao bird, placed it in a jar, covered the jar and poured water over the cloth and beat on the outside of the jar. The noise of the beating was low and rumbling. All that night was the bird kept in the jar, and not once did it see the bright moonlight, which was almost as bright as day, for it was in the midst of the dry season and full moon. When the eye of day opened, the man removed the bird from the jar and placed it in its cage, and then took it to the court as a witness.

When the bird was called, it said, as before, “He killed it; part he put in the rice bin, and part over the rice house.”

All people believed the bird.

“Ask it another question. Ask it what manner of night it was last night. Will you condemn me to death on the word of a bird?” cried the man.

The question was put to the bird, but, remembering its fear, during the night, of the rumbling noise and the sound of running water, it answered, “Last night the sky called and the rain fell.”

Then the people cried, “Of a truth, the bird cannot be believed. Because it has imperiled the life of an innocent man, from this time forth, the sao bird must not be cherished by man.”

The thief was set free because there were but the words of the bird to condemn him.

No longer is the sao bird nourished by man, but lives in the forest. Those who are full of fear when they hear them talking in the forest say, “It is the spirits.”

When the sao bird saw the bright plumage of the parrot, and the black and gold of the minor bird, it knew they were strangers who had come to dwell in the north, and it asked the crow and the owl what manner of birds they were.

“Beautiful in plumage, as thou canst readily see,” answered they. “Moreover, they speak the words of man.”

“Speak the words of man,” echoed the sao bird. “I’ll warn them. Come, let us greet them.” And they went forth to meet the beautiful strangers.

And upon a day, as they all came together in one place, the sao bird cried out, “We, the chief birds of the north land, come to greet you and to give you of our wisdom, as you are but strangers in our land. It is told me you speak as does man; even so can I. Nourished by the hand of man many years, I did see with my eyes and hear with my ears, and my tongue uttered not only the things I beheld and heard, but things displeasing to my masters. At one time, all men spoke well of me, but afterward was I cruelly punished and driven from the homes of men. Therefore come I this day unto you to warn you that, if man learns of your speaking tongue, he will capture you and nourish you in his home. Yet, should you speak other than he teaches you, you will be punished and driven from the homes of men, for man loves only to hear his thoughts repeated and loves not even a bird that has wisdom or truth greater than his own.”

Fearful of uttering their thoughts, lest man resent it, the parrot and minor bird but echo the words of man.

Next: The Lovers’ Leap

(myna bird, Japanese painting)

(800 words)

Laos: The Lovers’ Leap

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

(river in Laos)

The Lovers’ Leap

Many, many years ago there lived, on the mountains among the rapids of the Maa Ping, a young man who loved a maiden, and the maiden loved him truly, but her father refused his consent to their union and commanded that his daughter see her lover no more, nor hold communication with him. At all times and in all ways the father of the maiden endeavored to overcome her regard for her lover, but she would think of no other, although many came to woo her.

Often did the young lovers seek to meet, but so constantly were they watched it was impossible and they could only wait patiently. Each knew the other was true, and each heart rested in this assurance.

And upon a time the father of the maiden thought she had forgotten her lover, and, greatly rejoiced, he made a feast and invited all the people of the province to come and make merry with him, and he reasoned, “Now that she has forgotten her former lover, will she not consent to marry a man I choose for her?”

While they were feasting, the maiden wandered out to think of the one she had not seen for so long and weary a time, and suddenly the dark evening became to her as the bright noonday, for her lover was before her. He entreated her to come with him and to be his wife. Thinking of the dreary days she had passed and the more dreary ones to come should she see her heart’s choice no more, she consented.

As they were mounting his strong, young horse, a servant saw them and ran to the house and gave the alarm. Soon the father and all the men were in pursuit of the lovers. For a time the young horse kept far ahead of its pursuers but, wearying of its double burden, it began to lag just as it reached the top of a lofty hill overhanging a rushing torrent of the river far below.

Nearer and nearer came the father and all the men. The only escape, and a most desperate venture was it, was to leap across the rushing torrent to the hill on the other side. Looking into each other’s eyes, then back at their approaching pursuers, and then at the wide chasm, they chose death together rather than life apart, and, urging their jaded horse to the leap, they missed the opposite cliff and were dashed to pieces on the rocks of the rapids below.

Next: The Faithful Husband

(400 words)

Laos: The Faithful Husband

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

The Faithful Husband

Upon a day in years long since gone by, Chow Soo Tome, wearied of the talking of his slaves, wandered into the forest. As he walked in an unfrequented path, he came to a lake where seven beautiful winged nymphs were disporting themselves in the water. One, Chow Soo Tome readily saw, was more beautiful than the others, and he loved her and desired her for his wife. On seeing the Chow, however, they all fled, but the most beautiful one permitted herself to be overtaken.

“When I saw thee, my heart was filled with love for thee. If thou dost not consent to be my wife, of sorrow will I die,” cried Chow Soo Tome.

“Easily could I have escaped, had not love for thee made me loath to leave thee,” replied the nymph. And in great joy they returned to the Chow’s home.

“My son, let me take the wings of thy wife, lest she fly and leave thee in sorrow,” urged the Chow’s mother, and readily did the nymph wife lay aside her wings.

But it happened that the head chow heard of the beauty of the wife of Chow Soo Tome, and he coveted her and, seeking to do away with Chow Soo Tome, he sent him to war and commanded that he lead the battle.

The young nymph wife knew the design of the head chow and, as soon as her husband had gone, she sought her mother-in-law and begged that she give her back her wings.

“I am filled with sorrow. Without Soo Tome I cannot remain in the house. Give me my wings that I may fly in the air and be comforted,” pled the wife.

“Consent that I tie a rope to thy feet. Then I will give thee the wings,” answered Soo Tome’s mother.

The young wife consented but, having donned her wings and flown up in the air, she cut the rope fastened to her feet and was safe from the head chow’s pursuit. Her freedom made her think of the home of her father in the kingdom of Chom Kow Kilat, and thither she flew.

Chow Soo Tome, unhurt and victorious, returned from the war and found his home desolate without his nymph wife and would not be comforted, but determined to seek her. “Now, I will go seek her in her father’s kingdom, Chom Kow Kilat, though seven years, seven months and seven days be required for the journey.”

Through forest, over mountains and across plains toiled Chow Soo Tome patiently. And, as he journeyed, upon a day, he met an ape.

“My friend, where do you go?” asked the ape.

“To a land far away, where the love of my heart abides, in the kingdom of Chom Kow Kilat. The way I do not know, but my heart guides me,” answered Chow Soo Tome.

The ape pitied him and sought to aid him, and what food he had or found he shared with Chow Soo Tome gladly. Together they travelled many days until they reached the sea. They had no means of crossing, and when the ape realized he could no longer aid Chow Soo Tome, he cried bitterly, saying, “No longer can I aid thee now; therefore is my sorrow greater than I can bear,” and, lo, he died! For three days did Chow Soo Tome mourn this kind friend and, as he mourned, a fly came to eat of the ape.

“I am but alive and fear I will die if I do not have food at once,” said the fly. “The ape is dead and can feel no pain. I am alive and I hunger; thou art in trouble and need aid. If thou wilt give me to eat of the flesh of the dead ape, whenever thou needst me, think on me and I will come to thee,” added the fly.

“Eat,” said Chow Soo Tome, and then he went on his way but, shortly after, sat down under a tree. While there, he saw two eagles alight on the tree.

“When we are rested, we will fly across the sea and eat of the feast which the king of Chom Kow Kilat gives in honor of the return of his beautiful daughter,” said one of the eagles to its mate.

Hearing these words, Chow Soo Tome cautiously climbed into the tree and crept under the wing of the larger eagle, who shortly after said to its mate: “Before we fly hence, I must rid myself of an insect which is under my wing and annoys me.”

“This is a sacred day, and for some punishment has the insect come under your wing; let it remain,” counselled the other eagle, and then they flew over the sea. When they rested in a tree on the other shore, Chow Soo Tome crept from under the wing and climbed down the tree. After a time he reached a sala tree near a large city. Near the sala was a well and, as Chow Soo Tome rested, seven slaves of the king of Chom Kow Kilat came from the city for water.

(sala tree)

“Why dost thou draw of the water?” asked Chow Soo Tome of a slave.

“We are this day glad, for the most beautiful daughter of the king of Chom Kow Kilat hath returned from the land of men, and the water will be poured over her head,” said the slave addressed.

Approaching the seventh slave, Chow Soo Tome asked that he might place a ring in her water jar. Now, the ring was one which he had received from his nymph wife, and he sought thus to turn her thoughts to him again.

“Pour your water in such a manner that, when it falls, the ring will fall upon the hands of the princess,” directed Chow Soo Tome.

The slave did as directed, and as the ring fell on the hands of the young princess, she knew her husband was near, and she asked the slave who was at the well when she drew the water.

“A chow of a far country,” said the slave, “who rests in the sala by the sacred well outside the city gate.”

In great haste and joy, did the young princess seek her father. “Outside the city gate, in the sala by the sacred well, doth my husband await me. Let me go to him, father,” she pleaded.

“I must first prove that he be thy husband. Let all my daughters make ready a table spread with the best of the feast and hide themselves. The man shall be called, and if he selects thy table, he is thy husband, but if he knows not thy table, he shall die,” replied the king.

The tables were made ready; Chow Soo Tome was summoned and commanded to select the table prepared by the princess whom he claimed as his wife. Sore perplexed, Chow Soo Tome bethought himself of the fly’s promise, and he called it to his aid. Immediately the fly appeared and sat on the table prepared by the wife of Chow Soo Tome, and there Chow Soo Tome sat down.

“Yet another test,” said the king. “Make ready seven curtains and place my daughters behind the seven curtains, allowing but one finger of each princess to be seen. Then, from among the fingers, select that of thy wife.”

Immediately did the grateful fly rest upon the curtain where lay the finger of the young wife, and unhesitatingly Chow Soo Tome walked up to the curtain and clasped the right finger.

“It is enough. She is thy wife,” declared the king, and so pleased was he that he made Chow Soo Tome second in power in the kingdom of Chom Kow Kilat.

Next: The Faithful Wife

(1300 words)

Laos: The Faithful Wife

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

(an Akha woman, Laos)

The Faithful Wife

The young and beautiful son of a head chow sought of a wise man what manner of wife should be his.

“As you walked by the way, whom did you meet?” asked the wizard.

“No one,” replied the young man.

“Nay, my son, you saw a slave of your father’s, cutting grass in a garden. She is to be your wife.”

Distressed that such a woman should be his wife, the young man fled from his own country.

And it came to pass that the chow saw the slave girl was kind, noble, and beautiful, and he took her to his house as a daughter, and she became more kind, more noble, and more beautiful.

Years had gone by, and upon a day, the son returned and, seeing in the one-time slave a most lovable and lovely woman, sought and gained her as his wife. Word reached the young man then that this was but a slave and, on learning the truth, he begged that he might be released to go on a long journey. The young wife consented.

A boat was made ready, and the chow’s son had it in his heart never to return. So, secretly, the chow had a gold image hidden in the bottom of the boat. When the day of departure had come, the chow in haste sent his servants to inquire of his son what he had in the boat.

“I have but my possessions,” replied the son.

“Nay, you have the image of gold which is the possession of my master, the chow,” insisted the servants. “If we find it in the boat, what will you do?” they asked.

“Return with you as a slave to my father!” exclaimed the son.

All the goods were removed from the boat and the image was found. Then the son returned as a slave to his father and was made keeper of the elephants.

Upon a day, the young wife of the son came to the chow and sought permission to go to the forest to find her husband.

Willingly did the chow say, “Go, my child,” and forthwith he had a boat put in readiness for her and sent with her many of his servants. One servant was called, “Eye That Sees Well,” another “Ear That Hears Well.”

Sailing down the river, they reached the province where the young man was searching for elephants, and there they remained.

The chow of the province sent a servant secretly to hide a golden image in the boat. But the “Ear That Hears Well” heard and the “Eye That Sees Well” saw, and together they took the image from the boat and hid it in the sand.

The following day, the chow sent a messenger asking why the princess had taken the image.

“I have not seen it,” were the words of the princess.

“If it is found in your boat, what will you promise?” asked the chow’s messenger.

“I and my servants will be slaves to him, if the image be found in my boat,” replied the princess, “but should the image not be found there, what will your master promise?”

“All his goods and his province, if the image be not found,” readily answered the messenger.

A diligent search failed to discover the image of gold and, true to his word, the chow gave of his goods and his province to the princess. Rejoicing and hoping thus to discover her husband, the princess gave a large feast and bade all the people. While all were feasting, lo, a man, in soiled garments and carrying a heavy tusk of an elephant, came towards them, and immediately did the princess recognize her husband, and the husband, realizing after what manner his wife loved him, grew to love her, and together they lived in her province for many, many years.

Next: The Giants’ Mountain and the Temple

(600 words)

Laos: The Giants’ Mountain and the Temple

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

(temple in Laos)

The Giants’ Mountain and the Temple

In the time long since gone by, when the world was young, the men of a large province desired to build a temple, a temple which might be seen by men from afar. Their ground, however, was low, and there was no lofty mountain on which they might rear it, and it was deemed wise by all to entreat the giants, who lived in the far East, to help them bring the earth together in one place for a mound.

Willingly did the giants consent to aid them but asked, “Why labor to dig the earth and pile it into a mound? Behold, the high hills are ours; with our strong arms we can remove the top from one of them and bring it to you, and you may rear your beautiful temple thereon, and all men can see it. Go, therefore, and make ready your bricks and mortar, bringing to one place all the materials which you will require, whilst we carry one of our mountains to you for your use.”

The giants went their way to bring a mountain-top from the far East to the plains near the city. Day after day they labored and moved the mountain top a great distance, but the people neither helped them nor did they even commence to prepare the materials for the temple. As the giants toiled, word was brought them that the people were sitting in idleness on the ground.

“Come help us, or gather the materials together,” the giants sent word.

“You, yourselves, offered to carry the mountain-top to us. Your words are stronger than your deeds. You say you will aid us, then ask us to help you,” the people replied. This they said, thinking to goad the giants on to the labor of bringing the mountain-top to the desired place.

“We offered to aid you,” retorted the giants, “but you sit and watch while we do all. Had you done your part, we would have done ours. Now, you shall labor, and we, from our high mountain, will laugh at you.”

Thereupon they left the work and sought their homes, and wearily did the men of the plains dig the earth, carrying it in small loads into one place to build the mound, and sadly did they look toward the East, where they could see the mountain-top the giants had carried such a distance to them, and most bitterly did they repent not having done their share.

The temple is builded now, and from afar the people can see the gleam of the spire when the eye of day first opens in the East, or closes in the West, and to this day the mountain-top lies there far distant from the mountain range and equally far distant from the city of the plains, and the people point it out to strangers, saying, “If you ask aid from others, it is well to put your own heart into the work.”

Next: The Wizard and the Beggar

(500 words)

Laos: The Wizard and the Beggar

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

The Wizard and the Beggar

Once upon a time there was a poor man who ever begged for food, and as he walked along the road, he thought, “If anyone will give me to eat until I am satisfied, never will I forget the grace or merit of that person.”

Chanting these words as he walked slowly along, he met a wizard.

“What do you say as you walk along, my son?” asked the wizard.

“If any one will give me to eat all I crave, I will never forget the grace or merit of that person,” said the poor man.

“My son, the people of this day are ever careless and ungrateful. They forget benefits,” replied the wizard.

“I will not forget,” vowed the poor man.

“Go on, my son,” said the wizard.

Chanting as before, the poor man went on his way, and as he walked he met a dog.

“What do you say as you go along, my son?” asked the dog.

“Whosoever will give me to eat to my satisfaction, the grace or merit of that person will I never forget,” replied the poor man.

“Men are prone to forget. None remember favors. When I was young and strong, I guarded my master’s house and grounds; now, when I am old, he will not permit me to enter his gate, but curses and beats me and gives me no food. By him are all my services forgotten,” said the dog.

Ever chanting, the poor man walked on, and as he walked he met a buffalo.

(water buffalo)

“What do you say as you walk along, my son?” asked the buffalo. And the poor man repeated what he had told the wizard and the dog.

“Man is ever ungrateful. When I was young and strong, I plowed the fields so my master could have rice and my master was grateful to me. Now that I cannot work, I am driven out to die,” said the buffalo. And the poor man, discouraged, sought the wizard again.

“My son, will you ever remember benefits?” asked the wizard.

“Never would I forget a benefit,” vowed the poor man, vehemently.

“Then here are two jewels; one, if held in your mouth, will enable you to fly as a bird; the other, if held in the mouth, will give you your desires, and this second one I now give to you,” said the wizard, and he handed the second jewel to the poor man.

“Your grace and merit will ever be remembered by me. More than tongue can utter, do I thank you. Ever will I wish you health and happiness and pray for blessings on your head,” declared the poor man. Having thus spoken, the once poor man sought his home and, through the virtue of the wishing jewel he had every wish for wealth gratified.

“How do you secure your desires?” asked the neighbors of the once poor, begging man.

“A wizard gave me a wishing-jewel and by simply placing it in my mouth, all I wish to possess is mine,” answered he. “Listen to me,” he continued, “the wizard has yet another jewel, which, if placed in the mouth, will enable one to fly as a bird. Come, let us go and kill him that we may all possess it together.”

With one accord they agreed, and, as they approached the home of the wizard, the wizard, espying the man he had so benefited, called to him, “Why have you not visited me, my son?”

“There was no time, much work have I had to do,” replied the ungrateful man.

Now the wizard of course knew the intent of the wicked fellow — that he, with his neighbors, had come to secure the second jewel, and he asked,

“Why do you desire to kill me?”

“Give to me the jewel you have, else I shall kill you, you old wizard,” cried the ungrateful fellow.

“Have you the wishing-jewel with you? If so, show it to me first,” said the wizard.

Eagerly did the greedy fellow thrust it toward the old wizard, but he, having already placed the flying-jewel in his mouth, seized the wishing-jewel and instead of giving the rascal the flying-jewel, flew away, leaving both the man and his neighbors without either.

Next: The Legend of the Rice

(700 words)

Laos: The Legend of the Rice

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

The Legend of the Rice

In the days when the earth was young and all things were better than they now are, when men and women were stronger and of greater beauty and the fruit of the trees was larger and sweeter than that which we now eat, rice, the food of the people, was of larger grain. One grain was all a man could eat, and in those early days, such too was the merit of the people they never had to toil gathering the rice for, when ripe, it fell from the stalks and rolled into the villages, even unto the granaries.

And upon a year, when the rice was larger and more plentiful than ever before, a widow said to her daughter, “Our granaries are too small. We will pull them down and build larger.”

When the old granaries were pulled down and the new one not yet ready for use, the rice was ripe in the fields. Great haste was made, but the rice came rolling in where the work was going on, and the widow, angered, struck a grain and cried, “Could you not wait in the fields until we were ready? You should not bother us now when you are not wanted.”

The rice broke into thousands of pieces and said, “From this time forth, we will wait in the fields until we are wanted,” and, from that time the rice has been of small grain, and the people of the earth must gather it into the granary from the fields.

Next: One Woman

(planting rice, Laos)

(300 words)

Laos: One Woman

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

“One Woman
in Deceit and Craft
is More Than a Match
for Eight Men”

Chum Paw was a maiden of the south country. Many suitors had she, but, by her craft and devices, each suitor thought himself the only one. Constantly did each seek her in marriage, and upon a day as one pressed her to name the time of their nuptials, she said, “Build me a house, and I’ll marry you when all is in readiness.” To the others did she speak the same words.

Each man sought the jungle for bamboo for a house, and it happened while they were in the jungle that they all met.

“What seekest thou?” they asked one another. “What seekest thou?” The one answer was, “I have come to fell wood for my house.”

And as they ate their midday meal together, each had a bamboo stick, filled with chicken and rice. Now it happened that Chum Paw had given the bamboo sticks to the men and lo, on investigation, they found the pieces in their various sticks were the parts of one chicken, and with one accord, they cried, “Chum Paw has deceived us. Come, let us kill her. Each has she promised to marry; each has she deceived.”

All were exceedingly angry and vowed they would kill the deceitful woman.

Chum Paw, seeing the men return together, knew her duplicity was known and realized they sought to kill her. “I entreat that you spare my life, but take and sell me as a slave to the captain of the ship lying at the mouth of the river.”

(boats on the Mekong River)

Relenting, the suitors took her to the captain. She, however, running on before, privately told the captain she had seven young men, her slaves, whom she would sell him for seven hundred pieces of silver. Seeing the young men were desirable, the captain gave Chum Paw the silver, and she fled while the seven lovers were placed in irons.

Chum Paw fled to the jungle but, frightened by the wild beasts, she sought refuge in a tree. And it came to pass that the suitors escaped from the ship and they, too, sought refuge in the jungle. Unable to sleep and also frightened, one of them climbed a tree that he might be safe from the wild beasts and lo, it was the same tree in which Chum Paw had taken refuge.

“Be silent; make no noise, lest the others hear us,” whispered Chum Paw. “I love you and knew you were wise and would escape from the ship. I only desired the silver for us to spend together.”

The unfortunate man believed and sought to embrace her, but as he threw up his arms, Chum Paw threw him down, hoping thus to kill him. The others, hearing the commotion, feared a large bear was in the tree and hastily fled. Uninjured, the suitor whom Chum Paw had thrown from the tree fled with them.

Chum Paw, seeing that they all fled, ran behind, as she knew no beast would attack her while there was so great a commotion. As the suitors looked back, they saw her, but mistook her for a bear and ran but the faster, and finally they all — the seven suitors and Chum Paw — reached their homes.

Knowing the suitors would again seek her life, Chum Paw made a feast of all things they most liked and bade the young men to come. All the food was prepared by Chum Paw and poisoned. “I want but to make me boon [merit] before I die, so I beg you eat of my food and forgive me, for I deserve death,” said the maiden, as they sat in her house. All ate, and all died.

Chum Paw carried six bodies into the inner part of the house, and one she prepared for the grave. Weeping and wailing, she ran to the nearest neighbor, crying, “I want a man to come bury my husband. He died last night. As he had smallpox, fifty pieces of silver will I give to the one who buries him.”

A man who loved money said, “I will bury him.” When he came to the house, Chum Paw said, “Many times has he died and come back to life. If he comes back again, no money shall you have.”

The man took the body, made a deep grave, buried the man and returned for his silver.

Lo, on the mat lay the body! He made a deeper grave and again buried it.

Six times he buried, as he supposed, the body and, on returning and finding it a seventh time, he angrily cried, “You shall never return again.” Taking the body with him, he built a fire, placed the body on it and, while it burned, went to the stream for water.

When he returned, lo, a charcoal man was standing there, black from his work.

Filled with wrath, the man ran up to him crying, “You will come back again, will you? You will cause me this trouble again, will you?”

The charcoal burner replied, “I do not understand.” Not a word would the man hear, but he fought the burner, and as they struggled, they both fell into the fire and were burned to death.

Chum Paw built a beautiful home and spent the silver as she willed.

Next: A Boy of the City Streets

(900 words)

Laos: A Boy of the City Streets

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

(Patuxai Gate in Vientiane, Laos)

“The Wisest Man of a Small Village
is Not Equal in Wisdom
to a Boy of the City Streets”

Once a boy of the city, watching a buffalo outside the gate of the largest city in the province, saw three men approaching. Each was the wisest man of the village from whence he came. The boy called to them, “Where go ye, old men?”

The men angrily replied, “Wherefore dost thou, who art but a child, speak thus to us who are old and the judges of the villages whence we come?”

The boy replied, “There is no cause for anger. How was I to know ye were wise men? To me, ye seem but as other men from a country place — the wisest of whom are but fools.”

The three men were very angry, caught the boy, and said, “We will not enter into the city, but will go to another province and sell this insolent boy because he neither reverences age nor wisdom.”

The boy refused to walk, so they carried him. All day they walked along the road, carrying the boy, and at night they slept by the roadside. In the morning, when they craved water and bade the boy go to a brook, he refused, saying, “If I go, ye will run and leave me. I will not go.”

Thirst drove one of the wise men for the water, and the boy drank of it freely.

Several days’ journey brought them to a wall of a large city, and night was spent at a sala near the wall. Seeking to rid themselves of the boy, they bade him go to the city for fire to cook food. Realizing their motive, he answered, “Should I go, ye will leave me. I will not go, though if ye let me tie ye to the posts of the sala, then will I go.”

With one accord they agreed, saying, “Do thou even so. We are weary carrying thee and cannot go for the fire.”

Tying them all, the boy ran to the city, where he met a man whom he asked, “Dost thou wish to purchase three slaves? Come with me.”

The man returned with the boy, saw the men, and gave him full value for each.

Having thus disposed of his captors, the cunning little fellow joined some men going to his native city, and as he walked along, he thought, “I was ever wanting to see other places, and now I have been carried a long journey, and have silver to last me many days ... surely, I have much boon.”

Next: To Aid a Beast

(400 words)

Laos: To Aid a Beast

You can find a similar story in the Tibet unit for this class: The Ingratitude of Man.

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

“To Aid Beast is Merit;
To Aid Man is but Vanity”

A hunter, walking through a jungle, saw a man in a pit unable to escape. The man called to him, “If thou wilt aid me to escape from this snare, always will I remember thy grace and merit.”

The hunter drew him out of the pit, and the man said, “I am goldsmith to the head chow and dwell by the city’s gate. Shouldst thou ever want any benefit, come to me, and gladly will I aid thee.”

As the hunter travelled, he met a tiger caught in a snare set for an elephant, and the tiger cried, “If thy heart prompts thee to set me free, thy aid will ever be remembered by me.”

He helped the tiger from the snare, and it said, “If ever thou needest aid, call and I will come to thee.”

(tiger)

Then again the hunter went on his way, and came to a place where a snake had fallen into a well and could not get out, and the snake cried, “If thou wilt aid me, I can aid thee also in the time soon to come,” and he assisted the snake.

“When the time comes that thou needest me, think of me, and I will come to thee with haste,” said the snake.

Now, it had happened that on the day that the hunter had rescued the tiger it had killed the chow’s child, but of this the hunter knew nothing.

And it came to pass that three days after, the hunter desiring to test the words of the tiger, went to the forest. Upon calling it, the tiger came to him immediately and brought with him a long golden chain, which he gave to the hunter.

The hunter took the chain home and, wishing to sell it, sought the goldsmith whom he had befriended. But the goldsmith, seeing it, said, “You are the man who has killed the chow’s child.” And he had his men bind the hunter with strong cords and took him to the chow in the hope of gaining the reward offered to any who might find him who had killed the child.

The chow put the hunter in chains and commanded he die on the morrow. The hunter begged for seven days’ respite, and it was granted him. In the night he thought of the snake he had helped, and immediately the snake came, bringing with him a medicine to cure blindness. While the household of the chow slept, the snake entered and cast of its venom in the eyes of the chow’s wife, and she was blind.

Throughout all the province the chow sought for some one to restore the eyes of his afflicted wife, but no one was found.

It happened on a day that word came to the chow’s ears that the hunter he had in chains for the death of his child was a man of wisdom and knew the merit of all the herbs of the field; therefore he sent for him.

When the hunter came into the presence of the chow unto where the wife sat, he put the medicine which the snake had brought him into the eyes of the princess, and sight, even like unto that of a young maiden, was restored unto her.

Then the chow desired to reward the hunter, and the hunter told him how he had come into possession of the golden chain, of the medicine which the serpent had given him because he had aided it in its time of trouble, and of the goldsmith, who had not only forgotten benefits received, but had accused him so he might gain a reward.

And when the chow learned the truth, he had the ungrateful goldsmith put to death, but to the hunter did he give half of his province, for had he not restored the sight of the princess?

Next: The Justice of In Ta Pome

(700 words)

Laos: The Justice of In Ta Pome

In Buddhist tradition, the "philosopher's stone" which fulfills wishes and is able to turn things into gold is called the Cintamani. You can read more at Wikipedia.

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

The Justice of In Ta Pome

Men of three countries wanted a chemical to change stones and metals into gold, and they all came together to worship In Ta Pome, one of the gods. One man was from China, one from India, and one from Siam. They all worshipped at the feet of In Ta Pome, saying, “We beg thee, O In Ta Pome, give unto us the chemical which will change all stones and metals into gold.”

(gold nugget)

In Ta Pome replied, “Each of you kill one of your children, cut him into pieces, and put him into a jar. Cover this with a new, clean cloth, and bring it unto me.”

The Chinaman feared to kill his child, so killed a pig, cut it up and placed it in a jar, over which he tied a close cover.

The Siamese did the same with a dog, but the Indiaman believed in In Ta Pome, and killed his only son, put him into a jar, and covered it.

All returned to the god with their several jars.

In Ta Pome sprinkled the jar of the Chinaman first, saying, “Whatsoever is silver, let it be silver; whatsoever is gold, let it be gold,” but the pig grunted, as pigs do, and In Ta Pome said, “From this time forth, you shall take care of pigs and kill them to gain gold.”

Sprinkling the jar of the Siamese, the god again said, “Whatsoever is silver, let it be silver; whatsoever is gold, let it be gold,” but the dog barked, as dogs do, and In Ta Pome said, “You must plow the earth, and only by the sweat of your brow shall you have enough to keep you in food.”

Taking the jar of the Indiaman, and having sprinkled it, In Ta Pome cried, “Whatsoever is silver, let it be silver, and whatsoever is gold, let it be gold,” and lo, the child came to life!

And to the Indiaman did In Ta Pome give the chemical that changes all stones and metals into gold, because he had believed, and had not tried to mock and deceive the gods.

Next: The Words of Untold Value

(400 words)

Laos: The Words of Untold Value

This story is part of the Laos unit. Story source: Laos Folk-Lore by Katherine Neville Fleeson, with photographs by W.A. Briggs (1899).

The Words of Untold Value

In the days long since gone by, a young man, a son of a poor widow, desired to go with two of his friends to Tuck Kasula, the country where one could learn the wisdom of all the world, but he had no gold with which to buy the wisdom, for does not everyone know that wisdom is difficult to obtain, and is therefore of great price?

Now, the two young friends had each two puns of gold, but the widow’s son had but two hairs of his mother’s which, when he wept because he had no money, the widow had given him, saying, “I have naught but these two fine hairs to give thee, my son, but go with thy friends; each hair will be to thee as a pun of gold.”

Then the son placed the two hairs in a package with his clothing, and sealed the package with wax, and set out with his friends to visit Tuck Kasula.

After they had travelled some time, they grew hungry, and on arriving in a village, they entered a house for food.

(Akha village in Laos)

The widow’s son left his package and his other goods on the veranda. While he was within the house, a hen ran away with the package and lost it. The owners of the hen offered the son anything they had either of food or clothing to replace his loss, but he would be content with nothing but the hen, and they gave it to him.

And again when they entered another house for food, the widow’s son tied the hen to a small bush in the compound and lo, an elephant stepped upon it and killed it!

The people offered the young man many things to make good his loss, but he would be content with nothing but the elephant, and they gave him the elephant.

At last they reached Tuck Kasula, and while his two friends, with their gold, sought the house of the teachers, the widow’s son stayed under a tree where he could hear the teachers instructing their disciples.

“If you wish to know others, sleep. If you wish to see, go and look,” said a wise man. “These words are of untold value, but for only two puns of gold will I give them unto you,” he added.

The widow’s son knew he had heard without price the wisdom for which his two friends would each have to pay two puns of gold, so he quietly turned the elephant and returned home.

“I will buy your words of wisdom, if you will sell them,” said the judge to the widow’s son.

“For two puns of gold I will sell them,” answered the widow’s son.

“Two puns of gold will I give thee,” said the judge.

“‘If you wish to know others, sleep. If you wish to see, go and look,’” said the widow’s son, when he had in his possession the two puns of gold.

The judge, desiring to test the truth of the words as he understood them, called unto him his four wives, and said, “I am not well. Give me water to drink and fan me.” Soon he seemed to be asleep, and his wives talked thus together in low voices:

“It is not pleasant to be the wife of this foolish man,” said the first.

“I like another man better,” said the second.

“I wish I could steal his goods and flee while he sleeps,” said the third.

“I would like to make him a savory dish with poison in it to kill him,” said the fourth.

Then the judge sprang up and cruelly punished his wives and put them in chains.

And upon another day, the judge arose early and went out to see how his slaves worked. Under the house, hunting for something, he saw a man.

“What do you seek?” asked the judge.

“I have just stolen from the judge all of his silver, and in trying to get it through a small opening, I broke my fingernail. If I do not find it, the judge will die and all his possessions will be destroyed for, as thou knowest, ever is it thus if a fingernail falls near a house.”

When the man had found the broken nail, the judge said, “I, who stand here, am the judge. I will but take from you the silver which you have stolen and no punishment shall be yours, because of the truth which you have told.”

Then the judge said to himself, “The two puns of gold was a small price to pay for the wisdom which I have obtained.”

Next: A Wise Philosopher

(800 words)

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