Tibetan Folk Tales by A. L. Shelton (free biff chip and kipper ebooks TXT) 📖

and ate up the pot of food. When the flea arrived, he was as angry as could be and said, “You’ve eaten all the food,” and grabbing the empty black kettle threw it at the louse, who dodged the blow by turning his back, and the kettle struck him squarely in the middle where it left a long black streak from the soot on the outside of the pot.

So to-day you can see that mark down the back of a louse if you will take the trouble to catch him and look.

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TWELVE The Man and the Ghost

As you desire the sun, so you desire your friend’s return.

Tibetan Proverb.

ONCE upon a time a man was walking along a narrow mountain path, when he met a ghost. The ghost turned around at once and walked along beside him. The man was very much frightened, but didn’t care to let the ghost know it. Pretty soon they came to a river which had to be crossed, and as there was no bridge or boat both had to swim it. The man, of course, made a good deal of noise, splashing and paddling the water, while the ghost made none at all.

Said the ghost to the man: “How does it happen that you make so much noise in the water?”

The man answered, “Oh, I am a ghost and have a right to make all the noise I want to.”

“Well,” the ghost replied, “suppose we two become good friends, and if I can help you I will, and if you can ever aid me you will do so.”

The man agreed, and as they walked along the ghost asked him what he feared more than anything else in the world. The man said he wasn’t afraid of anything he saw, though inwardly quaking all the while. Then he asked the ghost what he was afraid of. “Of nothing at all,” said the ghost, “but the wind as it blows through the tall-headed barley fields.”

By and by they came near a city, and the ghost said he was going in to town. But the man said he was tired and that he would lie down and sleep a while in the barley field at the edge of the city. The ghost went on into town and played havoc, as ghosts generally do. He proceeded to steal the soul of the king’s son and tying it up in a yak hair sack carried it out to the edge of the barley field where the man lay asleep, and called out to him, “Here is the soul of the king’s son in this bag. I’ll leave it here for a while and you can take care of it for me, as I have a little business elsewhere.”

So saying, he put the sack down and went away. The man now disguised himself as a holy lama, begging tsamba, and, carrying his prayer wheel and the sack, started for the city. When he arrived he heard at once that the king’s son was about to die and he knew what was the matter with him. So he went to the palace begging and the king’s chamberlain said to him, “You are a very holy man, perhaps you can do something to help the king’s son get well.” The man said he would try if they would let him in to see the king.

When the king saw him he said, “If you will heal my son, I’ll give you half of all I have, lands, gold, cattle and everything.” So the man said he would. He took his yak hair sack, sat down on the ground, cross-legged, as all Buddhists sit, made a little idol of tsamba meal, opened the sack and thrust it in, allowing the soul to escape. Then he tied the mouth of the bag with nine knots, blew his breath upon it, said many charms and prayers over it, and while he talked, lo, they brought the king word that the boy was recovering. The father was so pleased and happy, he kept his word and gave the man half of all he possessed. The ghost never, so the story goes, came back or claimed the sack he had left with the man, and the man thought, “Perhaps that is the customary etiquette between a man and a ghost.”

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THIRTEEN The Wicked Stepmother

Eating much the tiger can swallow no more, so the vulture may safely come down.

Tibetan Proverb.

ONCE upon a time, on the very tiptop of a big flat mountain, there was situated a country over which ruled a king named Genchog. He married a beautiful wife who gave him one son whom they named Nyema. In giving birth to him she died, but the baby lived. The king got him another wife and had another son whom they called D�w�. One day, thinking to herself, she said, “There is no chance for my son to be king, for the older son has the birthright and he is sure to be the ruler.”

So she began to plan and plot and see if she could think of some way to kill the older son and let her son rule the kingdom.

One day she feigned to be very ill and rolled over on the floor groaning and crying. The king saw her and very much alarmed exclaimed, “What is the matter with you?” And she answered, “Oh, I have had this sickness since I was a little girl, but it has never been so hard as it is this time. There is a way to cure it, but it is too hard and bitter, so I will have to die this time.”

The king asked, “What is the way to heal you? I don’t want you to die, for it would break my heart and I wouldn’t want to be king any longer. You must tell me the remedy so I can save you.”

She demurred for some time but finally said, “Well, one of your sons must be killed and I must eat his heart with butter, but you see your older son is the prince and heir to the throne and the younger son is my own flesh and blood, so I could not eat his heart even if it were to save my life.”

The king was dreadfully grieved and finally said, “Well, I love one son as much as another and my heart would ache the same for each of them, but in a day or two I will kill the elder, as it would do no good to kill the younger.”

After a while the younger brother found out what was to be done and went to the older brother and told him, and asked, “What shall we do about it?” The older brother said, “Little brother, you must stay with your father and become the king. He won’t kill you and I’ll run away.” The younger brother felt very sorry about it and his heart was sore as he said, “If you are going away I want to go too. I don’t want to stay here without you.” “Very well,” answered the other, “you may go if you wish.” So they arranged together to slip away that night at midnight and tell nobody of their going. They could take no tsamba for fear some one would find out they were going. They had some tsamba bags and in them were some dried tsamba tormas that the lamas had been using. Now these tormas are little cone-shaped bodies made of tsamba and are used when the lamas are reading prayers. They are supposed to be full of devils, which the lamas coaxed into them when they read their holy books.

They started about midnight on the fifteenth of the month and traveled day and night, over the mountains and through the valleys, until their dried tsamba was all gone and they were very hungry and thirsty. They finally came to a village, but there was no water. The younger was getting weak now as they had had but little food and no water for some time. So Nyema said to him, “Wait and rest here in this little village, and I will go and see if I can find some water.” He kept on going until he had gone entirely around the mountain in his search for water, but found none. Going back to the place where he had left his younger brother, he saw that he was dead. He was very much grieved and built a tomb for him of prayer stones and prayed that in his next incarnation he would have a happy life and not have to have so much sorrow as he had had this time. Nyema then left and, crossing two mountain ranges, came to a cliff in which was a big door through which he entered, and there found an old hermit lama in the cave. When the old man saw him he said, “You are a good man, I know by looking at you. How did you happen to come here?” Then Nyema told all that had happened to him and why he had run away from home, so the old man said, “You can stay here and be my son and I will pray to the gods to bring your younger brother to life again.” In a few days the younger brother did come to life, and following his older brother’s tracks came to the old hermit’s house, and the two stayed there as the old lama’s sons.

Below this cave, which was high up on the mountain, was a city where dwelt a very good king, and near the city was a big lake by which all the people watered their fields. Every year an offering had to be made to the snake god who dwelt in the lake, so that he wouldn’t be angry and keep the water away. For this offering the people must sacrifice a human being who had been born in the tiger year. But the time came when all the people born in this year were dead and gone, and none was left to offer. One day the children, seeing the king, said to him, “Every day when we go up on the mountain to herd the cattle, we see a lama who lives up there. This lama has two sons, and the older one was born in the tiger year.” So the king sent three men to see if it was true. The men went up to the cave and knocked on the door. The lama opened it and asked, “What do you want?”

“The king has heard you have two sons and that one was born in the tiger year,” answered the men, “and we need him for the offering to the god of the lake.”

The lama answered, “I am a lama, how could I have two sons?” Then he shut the door in their faces and hid the boys in a big water cask. This treatment angered the men so they took some rocks and beat the door down. They looked everywhere for the boys, but they were so carefully hidden they couldn’t be found, so in their disappointment they took some rocks and beat the old man. The boys couldn’t stand this, so they came out of their hiding place and called, “Here we are, don’t beat him any more.” Then the men tied the older son and took him with them to the king. The lama and the younger brother felt very sad after he was gone. The men led Nyema to the king’s palace, and since it wasn’t quite time for the offering to be made, he was allowed his freedom in the courtyard of the palace. The king had a daughter, who