Brief synopsis of "The Soothsayer's Son":
As with most Indian Tales I've read this one is long. It's an interesting story however, about the humanity of animals and inhumanity of some greedy humans.
I've come to the conclusion that unlike most English tales not all Indian tales attempt to teach morals or values, but instead just try to tell an interesting story. I think it's ingrained in me perhaps to look for a moral or value in these tales anyhow, and in this one I see lessons in being kind to animals as well as not having
blind faith in your fellow man.
a fairy tale from Indian Fairy Tales
by Joseph Jacobs, 1890
THE SOOTHSAYER'S SON
A soothsayer when on his deathbed wrote out the horoscope of his second
son, whose name was Gangazara, and bequeathed it to him as his only
property, leaving the whole of his estate to his eldest son. The second
son thought over the horoscope, and said to himself:
"Alas! am I born to this only in the world? The sayings of my father
never failed. I have seen them prove true to the last word while he was
living; and how has he fixed my horoscope! 'FROM MY BIRTH POVERTY!' Nor
is that my only fate. 'FOR TEN YEARS, IMPRISONMENT'--a fate harder than
poverty; and what comes next? 'DEATH ON THE SEA-SHORE'; which means
that I must die away from home, far from friends and relatives on a
sea coast. Now comes the most curious part of the horoscope, that I am
to 'HAVE SOME HAPPINESS AFTERWARDS!' What this happiness is, is an
enigma to me."
Thus thought he, and after all the funeral obsequies of his father were
over, took leave of his elder brother, and started for Benares. He went
by the middle of the Deccan, avoiding both the coasts, and went on
journeying and journeying for weeks and months, till at last he reached
the Vindhya mountains. While passing that desert he had to journey for
a couple of days through a sandy plain, with no signs of life or
vegetation. The little store of provision with which he was provided
for a couple of days, at last was exhausted. The chombu, which he
carried always full, filling it with the sweet water from the flowing
rivulet or plenteous tank, he had exhausted in the heat of the desert.
There was not a morsel in his hand to eat; nor a drop of water to
drink. Turn his eyes wherever he might he found a vast desert, out of
which he saw no means of escape. Still he thought within himself,
"Surely my father's prophecy never proved untrue. I must survive this
calamity to find my death on some sea-coast." So thought he, and this
thought gave him strength of mind to walk fast and try to find a drop
of water somewhere to slake his dry throat.
At last he succeeded; heaven threw in his way a ruined well. He thought
he could collect some water if he let down his chombu with the string
that he always carried noosed to the neck of it. Accordingly he let it
down; it went some way and stopped, and the following words came from
the well: "Oh, relieve me! I am the king of tigers, dying here of
hunger. For the last three days I have had nothing. Fortune has sent
you here. If you assist me now you will find a sure help in me
throughout your life. Do not think that I am a beast of prey. When you
have become my deliverer I will never touch you. Pray, kindly lift me
up." Gangazara thought: "Shall I take him out or not? If I take him out
he may make me the first morsel of his hungry mouth. No; that he will
not do. For my father's prophecy never came untrue. I must die on a sea
coast, and not by a tiger." Thus thinking, he asked the tiger-king to
hold tight to the vessel, which he accordingly did, and he lifted him
up slowly. The tiger reached the top of the well and felt himself on
safe ground. True to his word, he did no harm to Gangazara. On the
other hand, he walked round his patron three times, and standing before
him, humbly spoke the following words: "My life-giver, my benefactor!
I shall never forget this day, when I regained my life through your
kind hands. In return for this kind assistance I pledge my oath to
stand by you in all calamities. Whenever you are in any difficulty
just think of me. I am there with you ready to oblige you by all the
means that I can. To tell you briefly how I came in here: Three days
ago I was roaming in yonder forest, when I saw a goldsmith passing
through it. I chased him. He, finding it impossible to escape my claws,
jumped into this well, and is living to this moment in the very bottom
of it. I also jumped in, but found myself on the first ledge of the
well; he is on the last and fourth ledge. In the second lives a serpent
half-famished with hunger. On the third lies a rat, also half-famished,
and when you again begin to draw water these may request you first to
release them. In the same way the goldsmith also may ask you. I beg
you, as your bosom friend, never assist that wretched man, though he is
your relation as a human being. Goldsmiths are never to be trusted. You
can place more faith in me, a tiger, though I feast sometimes upon men,
in a serpent, whose sting makes your blood cold the very next moment,
or in a rat, which does a thousand pieces of mischief in your house.
But never trust a goldsmith. Do not release him; and if you do, you
shall surely repent of it one day or other." Thus advising, the hungry
tiger went away without waiting for an answer.
Gangazara thought several times of the eloquent way in which the tiger
spoke, and admired his fluency of speech. But still his thirst was not
quenched. So he let down his vessel again, which was now caught hold of
by the serpent, who addressed him thus: "Oh, my protector! Lift me up.
I am the king of serpents, and the son of Adisesha, who is now pining
away in agony for my disappearance. Release me now. I shall ever remain
your servant, remember your assistance, and help you throughout life in
all possible ways. Oblige me: I am dying." Gangazara, calling again to
mind the "DEATH ON THE SEA-SHORE" of the prophecy lifted him up. He,
like the tiger-king, walked round him thrice, and prostrating himself
before him spoke thus: "Oh, my life-giver, my father, for so I must
call you, as you have given me another birth. I was three days ago
basking myself in the morning sun, when I saw a rat running before me.
I chased him. He fell into this well. I followed him, but instead of
falling on the third storey where he is now lying, I fell into the
second. I am going away now to see my father. Whenever you are in any
difficulty just think of me. I will be there by your side to assist you
by all possible means." So saying, the Nagaraja glided away in zigzag
movements, and was out of sight in a moment.
The poor son of the Soothsayer, who was now almost dying of thirst, let
down his vessel for a third time. The rat caught hold of it, and
without discussing he lifted up the poor animal at once. But it would
not go away without showing its gratitude: "Oh, life of my life! My
benefactor! I am the king of rats. Whenever you are in any calamity
just think of me. I will come to you, and assist you. My keen ears
overheard all that the tiger-king told you about the goldsmith, who is
in the fourth storey. It is nothing but a sad truth that goldsmiths
ought never to be trusted. Therefore, never assist him as you have done
to us all. And if you do, you will suffer for it. I am hungry; let me
go for the present." Thus taking leave of his benefactor, the rat, too,
ran away.
Gangazara for a while thought upon the repeated advice given by the
three animals about releasing the goldsmith: "What wrong would there be
in my assisting him? Why should I not release him also?" So thinking to
himself, Gangazara let down the vessel again. The goldsmith caught hold
of it, and demanded help. The Soothsayer's son had no time to lose; he
was himself dying of thirst.
Therefore he lifted the goldsmith up, who now began his story. "Stop
for a while," said Gangazara, and after quenching his thirst by letting
down his vessel for the fifth time, still fearing that some one might
remain in the well and demand his assistance, he listened to the
goldsmith, who began as follows: "My dear friend, my protector, what a
deal of nonsense these brutes have been talking to you about me; I am
glad you have not followed their advice. I am just now dying of hunger.
Permit me to go away. My name is Manikkasari. I live in the East main
street of Ujjaini, which is twenty kas to the south of this place, and
so lies on your way when you return from Benares. Do not forget to come
to me and receive my kind remembrances of your assistance, on your way
back to your country." So saying, the goldsmith took his leave, and
Gangazara also pursued his way north after the above adventures.
He reached Benares, and lived there for more than ten years, and quite
forgot the tiger, serpent, rat, and goldsmith. After ten years of
religious life, thoughts of home and of his brother rushed into his
mind. "I have secured enough merit now by my religious observances. Let
me return home." Thus thought Gangazara within himself, and very soon
he was on his way back to his country. Remembering the prophecy of his
father he returned by the same way by which he went to Benares ten
years before. While thus retracing his steps he reached the ruined well
where he had released the three brute kings and the gold smith. At once
the old recollections rushed into his mind, and he thought of the tiger
to test his fidelity. Only a moment passed, and the tiger-king came
running before him carrying a large crown in his mouth, the glitter of
the diamonds of which for a time outshone even the bright rays of the
sun. He dropped the crown at his life-giver's feet, and, putting aside
all his pride, humbled himself like a pet cat to the strokes of his
protector, and began in the following words: "My life-giver! How is it
that you have forgotten me, your poor servant, for such a long time? I
am glad to find that I still occupy a corner in your mind. I can never
forget the day when I owed my life to your lotus hands. I have several
jewels with me of little value. This crown, being the best of all, I
have brought here as a single ornament of great value, which you can
carry with you and dispose of in your own country." Gangazara looked at
the crown, examined it over and over, counted and recounted the gems,
and thought within himself that he would become the richest of men by
separating the diamonds and gold, and selling them in his own country.
He took leave of the tiger-king, and after his disappearance thought of
the kings of serpents and rats, who came in their turn with their
presents, and after the usual greetings and exchange of words took
their leave. Gangazara was extremely delighted at the faithfulness with
which the brute beasts behaved, and went on his way to the south. While
going along he spoke to himself thus: "These beasts have been very
faithful in their assistance. Much more, therefore, must Manikkasari be
faithful. I do not want anything from him now. If I take this crown
with me as it is, it occupies much space in my bundle. It may also
excite the curiosity of some robbers on the way. I will go now to
Ujjaini on my way. Manikkasari requested me to see him without failure
on my return journey. I shall do so, and request him to have the crown
melted, the diamonds and gold separated. He must do that kindness at
least for me. I shall then roll up these diamonds and gold ball in my
rags, and wend my way homewards." Thus thinking and thinking, he
reached Ujjaini. At once he inquired for the house of his goldsmith
friend, and found him without difficulty. Manikkasari was extremely
delighted to find on his threshold him who ten years before,
notwithstanding the advice repeatedly given him by the sage-looking
tiger, serpent, and rat, had relieved him from the pit of death.
Gangazara at once showed him the crown that he received from the tiger-
king, told him how he got it, and requested his kind assistance to
separate the gold and diamonds. Manikkasari agreed to do so, and
meanwhile asked his friend to rest himself for a while to have his bath
and meals; and Gangazara, who was very observant of his religious
ceremonies, went direct to the river to bathe.
How came the crown in the jaws of the tiger? The king of Ujjaini had a
week before gone with all his hunters on a hunting expedition. All of a
sudden the tiger-king started from the wood, seized the king, and
vanished.
When the king's attendants informed the prince about the death of his
father he wept and wailed, and gave notice that he would give half of
his kingdom to any one who should bring him news about the murderer of
his father. The goldsmith knew full well that it was a tiger that
killed the king, and not any hunter's hands, since he had heard from
Gangazara how he obtained the crown. Still, he resolved to denounce
Gangazara as the king's murderer, so, hiding the crown under his
garments, he flew to the palace. He went before the prince and informed
him that the assassin was caught, and placed the crown before him.
The prince took it into his hands, examined it, and at once gave half
the kingdom to Manikkasari, and then inquired about the murderer. "He
is bathing in the river, and is of such and such appearance," was the
reply. At once four armed soldiers flew to the river, and bound the
poor Brahman hand and foot, while he, sitting in meditation, was
without any knowledge of the fate that hung over him. They brought
Gangazara to the presence of the prince, who turned his face away from
the supposed murderer, and asked his soldiers to throw him into a
dungeon. In a minute, without knowing the cause, the poor Brahman found
himself in the dark dungeon.
It was a dark cellar underground, built with strong stone walls, into
which any criminal guilty of a capital offense was ushered to breathe
his last there without food and drink. Such was the cellar into which
Gangazara was thrust. What were his thoughts when he reached that
place? "It is of no use to accuse either the goldsmith or the prince
now. We are all the children of fate. We must obey her commands. This
is but the first day of my father's prophecy. So far his statement is
true. But how am I going to pass ten years here? Perhaps without
anything to sustain life I may drag on my existence for a day or two.
But how pass ten years? That cannot be, and I must die. Before death
comes let me think of my faithful brute friends."
So pondered Gangazara in the dark cell underground, and at that moment
thought of his three friends. The tiger-king, serpent-king, and rat-
king assembled at once with their armies at a garden near the dungeon,
and for a while did not know what to do. They held their council, and
decided to make an underground passage from the inside of a ruined well
to the dungeon. The rat raja issued an order at once to that effect to
his army. They, with their teeth, bored the ground a long way to the
walls of the prison. After reaching it they found that their teeth
could not work on the hard stones. The bandicoots were then specially
ordered for the business; they, with their hard teeth, made a small
slit in the wall for a rat to pass and re-pass without difficulty. Thus
a passage was effected.
The rat raja entered first to condole with his protector on his
misfortune, and undertook to supply his protector with provisions.
"Whatever sweetmeats or bread are prepared in any house, one and all of
you must try to bring whatever you can to our benefactor. Whatever
clothes you find hanging in a house, cut down, dip the pieces in water,
and bring the wet bits to our benefactor. He will squeeze them and
gather water for drink! and the bread and sweetmeats shall form his
food." Having issued these orders, the king of the rats took leave of
Gangazara. They, in obedience to their king's order, continued to
supply him with provisions and water.
The snake-king said: "I sincerely condole with you in your calamity;
the tiger-king also fully sympathises with you, and wants me to tell
you so, as he cannot drag his huge body here as we have done with our
small ones. The king of the rats has promised to do his best to provide
you with food. We would now do what we can for your release. From this
day we shall issue orders to our armies to oppress all the subjects of
this kingdom. The deaths by snake-bite and tigers shall increase a
hundredfold from this day, and day by day it shall continue to increase
till your release. Whenever you hear people near you, you had better
bawl out so as to be heard by them: 'The wretched prince imprisoned me
on the false charge of having killed his father, while it was a tiger
that killed him. From that day these calamities have broken out in his
dominions. If I were released I would save all by my powers of healing
poisonous wounds and by incantations.' Some one may report this to the
king, and if he knows it, you will obtain your liberty." Thus
comforting his protector in trouble, he advised him to pluck up
courage, and took leave of him. From that day tigers and serpents,
acting under the orders of their kings, united in killing as many
persons and cattle as possible. Every day people were carried away by
tigers or bitten by serpents. Thus passed months and years. Gangazara
sat in the dark cellar, without the sun's light falling upon him, and
feasted upon the breadcrumbs and sweetmeats that the rats so kindly
supplied him with. These delicacies had completely changed his body
into a red, stout, huge, unwieldy mass of flesh. Thus passed full ten
years, as prophesied in the horoscope.
Ten complete years rolled away in close imprisonment. On the last
evening of the tenth year one of the serpents got into the bed-chamber
of the princess and sucked her life. She breathed her last. She was the
only daughter of the king. The king at once sent for all the snake-bite
curers. He promised half his kingdom and his daughter's hand to him who
would restore her to life. Now a servant of the king who had several
times overheard Gangazara's cries, reported the matter to him. The king
at once ordered the cell to be examined. There was the man sitting in
it. How had he managed to live so long in the cell? Some whispered that
he must be a divine being. Thus they discussed, while they brought
Gangazara to the king.
The king no sooner saw Gangazara than he fell on the ground. He was
struck by the majesty and grandeur of his person. His ten years'
imprisonment in the deep cell underground had given a sort of lustre to
his body. His hair had first to be cut before his face could be seen.
The king begged forgiveness for his former fault, and requested him to
revive his daughter.
"Bring me within an hour all the corpses of men and cattle, dying and
dead, that remain unburnt or unburied within the range of your
dominions; I shall revive them all," were the only words that Gangazara
spoke.
Cartloads of corpses of men and cattle began to come in every minute.
Even graves, it is said, were broken open, and corpses buried a day or
two before were taken out and sent for their revival. As soon as all
were ready, Gangazara took a vessel full of water and sprinkled it over
them all, thinking only of his snake-king and tiger-king. All rose up
as if from deep slumber, and went to their respective homes. The
princess, too, was restored to life. The joy of the king knew no
bounds. He cursed the day on which he imprisoned him, blamed himself
for having believed the word of a goldsmith, and offered him the hand
of his daughter and the whole kingdom, instead of half, as he promised.
Gangazara would not accept anything, but asked the king to assemble all
his subjects in a wood near the town. "I shall there call in all the
tigers and serpents, and give them a general order."
When the whole town was assembled, just at the dusk of evening,
Gangazara sat dumb for a moment, and thought upon the Tiger King and
the Serpent King, who came with all their armies. People began to take
to their heels at the sight of tigers. Gangazara assured them of
safety, and stopped them.
The grey light of the evening, the pumpkin colour of Gangazara, the
holy ashes scattered lavishly over his body, the tigers and snakes
humbling themselves at his feet, gave him the true majesty of the god
Gangazara. For who else by a single word could thus command vast armies
of tigers and serpents, said some among the people. "Care not for it;
it may be by magic. That is not a great thing. That he revived
cartloads of corpses shows him to be surely Gangazara," said others.
"Why should you, my children, thus trouble these poor subjects of
Ujjaini? Reply to me, and henceforth desist from your ravages." Thus
said the Soothsayer's son, and the following reply came from the king
of the tigers: "Why should this base king imprison your honour,
believing the mere word of a goldsmith that your honour killed his
father? All the hunters told him that his father was carried away by a
tiger. I was the messenger of death sent to deal the blow on his neck.
I did it, and gave the crown to your honour. The prince makes no
inquiry, and at once imprisons your honour. How can we expect justice
from such a stupid king as that? Unless he adopt a better standard of
justice we will go on with our destruction."
The king heard, cursed the day on which he believed in the word of a
goldsmith, beat his head, tore his hair, wept and wailed for his crime,
asked a thousand pardons, and swore to rule in a just way from that
day. The serpent-king and tiger-king also promised to observe their
oath as long as justice prevailed, and took their leave. The gold-smith
fled for his life. He was caught by the soldiers of the king, and was
pardoned by the generous Gangazara, whose voice now reigned supreme.
All returned to their homes. The king again pressed Gangazara to accept
the hand of his daughter. He agreed to do so, not then, but some time
afterwards. He wished to go and see his elder brother first, and then
to return and marry the princess. The king agreed; and Gangazara left
the city that very day on his way home.
It so happened that unwittingly he took a wrong road, and had to pass
near a sea-coast. His elder brother was also on his way up to Benares
by that very same route. They met and recognised each other, even at a
distance. They flew into each other's arms. Both remained still for a
time almost unconscious with joy. The pleasure of Gangazara was so
great that he died of joy.
The elder brother was a devout worshipper of Ganesa. That was a Friday,
a day very sacred to that god. The elder brother took the corpse to the
nearest Ganesa temple and called upon him. The god came, and asked him
what he wanted. "My poor brother is dead and gone; and this is his
corpse. Kindly keep it in your charge till I finish worshipping you. If
I leave it anywhere else the devils may snatch it away when I am absent
worshipping you; after finishing the rites I shall burn him." Thus said
the elder brother, and, giving the corpse to the god Ganesa, he went to
prepare himself for that deity's ceremonials. Ganesa made over the
corpse to his Ganas, asking them to watch over it carefully. But
instead of that they devoured it.
The elder brother, after finishing the puja, demanded his brother's
corpse of the god. The god called his Ganas, who came to the front
blinking, and fearing the anger of their master. The god was greatly
enraged. The elder brother was very angry. When the corpse was not
forthcoming he cuttingly remarked, "Is this, after all, the return for
my deep belief in you? You are unable even to return my brother's
corpse." Ganesa was much ashamed at the remark. So he, by his divine
power, gave him a living Gangazara instead of the dead corpse. Thus was
the second son of the Soothsayer restored to life.
The brothers had a long talk about each other's adventures. They both
went to Ujjaini, where Gangazara married the princess, and succeeded to
the throne of that kingdom. He reigned for a long time, conferring
several benefits upon his brother. And so the horoscope was fully
fulfilled.
X. NOTES: THE SOOTHSAYER'S SON
Source.--Mrs. Kingscote, Tales of the Sun (p. 11
seq.), from Pandit Natesa Sastri's Folk-Lore of Southern
India, pt. ii., originally from Indian Antiquary. I have considerably
condensed and modified the somewhat Babu English of the original.
Parallels.--See Benfey, Pantschatantra, S 71, i. pp. 193-
222, who quotes the Karma Jataka as the ultimate source: it
also occurs in the Saccankira Jataka (Fausboll, No. 73), trans.
Rev. R. Morris, Folk-Lore Journey iii. 348 seq. The story
of the ingratitude of man compared with the gratitude of beasts came
early to the West, where it occurs in the Gesta Romanorum, c. 119
It was possibly from an early form of this collection that Richard
Coeur de Lion got the story, and used it to rebuke the ingratitude of
the English nobles on his return in 1195. Matthew Paris tells the
story, sub anno (it is an addition of his to Ralph Disset),
Hist. Major, ed. Luard, ii. 413-6, how a lion and a serpent and
a Venetian named Vitalis were saved from a pit by a woodman, Vitalis
promising him half his fortune, fifty talents. The lion brings his
benefactor a leveret, the serpent "gemmam pretiosam," probably "the
precious jewel in his head" to which Shakespeare alludes (As You
Like It, ii. 1., cf. Benfey, l.c., p. 214, n.), but Vitalis
refuses to have anything to do with him, and altogether repudiates the
fifty talents. "Haec referebat Rex Richardus munificus, ingratos
redarguendo."
Remarks.--Apart from the interest of its wide travels, and its
appearance in the standard mediaeval History of England by Matthew
Paris, the modern story shows the remarkable persistence of folk-tales
in the popular mind. Here we have collected from the Hindu peasant of
to-day a tale which was probably told before Buddha, over two thousand
years ago, and certainly included among the Jatakas before the
Christian era. The same thing has occurred with The Tiger, Brahman,
and Jackal (No. ix. supra).
from Project Gutenberg (public domain)
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