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JUNE, 1891.)
FOLKTALES OF HINDUSTAN.
189
the first fruit he touches, which will stick in his throat and kill him, but he will escape if any one snatches the fruit from his hands and flings it away. Then the first night that he sleeps in his father's palace a snake will come down from the ceiling and bite him and his wife, so that they will die. But if any one were to sit in the room and kill the snake when he appears, both the prince and his wife will live many days. But if you speak a word of this to them you will be turned into stone and will remain stone until the prince and princess dash their eldest son apon you ; but when they fling the child at you speak not a word. But behind the palace is a tree and on this a large winged bird (garpankh) has built its nest : take some of its dung, rub it on the child and it will come to life again."
So the wazir's son left the old woman and went to the prince, and they all started together. On the way they came to the tree and the wazir's son prevented the prince from approaching it. Suddenly a branch came crashing down, which would certainly have crushed him, and the prince thanked the wazir's son for saving his life. Further on the wazir's son kept the prince away from the horses, and lo! a tiger rushed out and carried off one of them. Again the prince thanked him for saving his life. When they approached the palace the wazir's son asked the prince to wait a little, and he would go ahead and announce his arrival. He went ahead and removed the iron gate of the palace and replaced it with a gate of flowers. Then he invited the prince to follow him. When the prince saw a gate of flowers instead of the iron gate he was sore displeased and said: “You have caused my father great loss." Bnt when the gate fell down he saw that he again owed his life to bis faithful friend, and promised in future to obey his advice.
His father was delighted to see him again. So, when the prince sat down to eat with his father, the wazir's son stood on his right, and as he tried to eat the first morsel his friend knocked it out of his hand. Then the prince was wroth and called to one of his attendants to seize him. But the wazír's son said: “First look at the morsel you were about to eat:" and lo ! it was found to contain a deadly thorn. So the prince again asked his pardon.
When the prince and princess retired to their chamber the wazir's son remained sitting outside, and when it was near midnight he took a sword and entered the room, and immediately a poisonous snake descended from the roof and approached the bed of the prince. Then the wazir's son cut the snake in pieces, but two drops of the blood fell on the face of the fairy princess and she awoke, and as she awoke, this roused the prince, who raised a sword and would have slain the son of the wazir. But he shewed him the dead snake under the bed. So he again begged the wazir's son to pardon him, and asked: “How did you learn about all these events?" So the wazir's son said: "All your dangers are now passed; and you will live in safety. But do not ask me how I acquired this knowledge, or you will repent it." But the prince said: “You shall not leave this until you explain the matter." So the wazir's son perforce had to tell all he learnt from the old woman: but as he went on with the story, so he began to turn into rtone; and when he had turned into stone as far as his breast the prince began to weep and said: "I have been very careless. Don't go on with the story." He replied: “What is the use of my living on in this state ?" If you wish to revive me again you must dash your first child at me." So saying he turned into stone, and the prince never ceased lamenting him until the princess had her first child. Then he threw the baby at the wazir's son, and ho bocame a man again, and without saying a word to any one he went off and got a piece of the dung of the large winged bird, which he rubbed on the baby, whereupon it revived and they all lived happily ever after. 8
. [I have never read a stronger instance than this tale in support of my old argumenta, that in the incidents and not in the thread of a story is to be found the true folklore tradition. Our friend MahtAbo, the cook, has jumbled together, in the most interesting fashion to the folklorist,' an extraordinary number of incidents properly belonging to different classes of tales. There is not an idea in it that could not easily be found in the various Indian tales reported already in these columns, but the general thread of the story is the well-worn theme of the friend who saves the hero at the risk of his own life. - ED.)
