<h2><SPAN name="Punchkin" id="Punchkin"></SPAN>Punchkin</h2>
<div class="figleft1"><ANTIMG src="images/image_065_02.jpg" alt="O" width-obs="150" height-obs="142" /></div>
<p>nce upon a time there was a Raja who had seven beautiful daughters.
They were all good girls; but the youngest, named Balna, was more
clever than the rest. The Raja's wife died when they were quite little
children, so these seven poor Princesses were left with no mother to
take care of them.</p>
<p>The Raja's daughters took it by turns to cook their father's dinner
every day, whilst he was absent deliberating with his Ministers on the
affairs of the nation.</p>
<p>About this time the Prudhan died, leaving a widow and one daughter;
and every day, every day, when the seven<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</SPAN></span> Princesses were preparing
their father's dinner, the Prudhan's widow and daughter would come and
beg for a little fire from the hearth. Then Balna used to say to her
sisters, "Send that woman away; send her away. Let her get the fire at
her own house. What does she want with ours? If we allow her to come
here, we shall suffer for it some day."</p>
<p>But the other sisters would answer, "Be quiet, Balna; why must you
always be quarrelling with this poor woman? Let her take some fire if
she likes." Then the Prudhan's widow used to go to the hearth and take
a few sticks from it; and whilst no one was looking, she would quickly
throw some mud into the midst of the dishes which were being prepared
for the Raja's dinner.</p>
<p>Now the Raja was very fond of his daughters. Ever since their mother's
death they had cooked his dinner with their own hands, in order to
avoid the danger of his being poisoned by his enemies. So, when he
found the mud mixed up with his dinner, he thought it must arise from
their carelessness, as it did not seem likely that any one should have
put mud there on purpose; but being very kind he did not like to
reprove them for it, although this spoiling of the curry was repeated
many successive days.</p>
<p>At last, one day, he determined to hide, and watch his daughters
cooking, and see how it all happened; so he went into the next room,
and watched them through a hole in the wall.</p>
<p>There he saw his seven daughters carefully washing the rice and
preparing the curry, and as each dish was completed, they put it by
the fire ready to be cooked. Next he noticed the Prudhan's widow come
to the door, and beg<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</SPAN></span> for a few sticks from the fire to cook her
dinner with. Balna turned to her, angrily, and said, "Why don't you
keep fuel in your own house, and not come here every day and take
ours? Sisters, don't give this woman any more wood; let her buy it for
herself."</p>
<p>Then the eldest sister answered, "Balna, let the poor woman take the
wood and the fire; she does us no harm." But Balna replied, "If you
let her come here so often, maybe she will do us some harm, and make
us sorry for it, some day."</p>
<p>The Raja then saw the Prudhan's widow go to the place where all his
dinner was nicely prepared, and, as she took the wood, she threw a
little mud into each of the dishes.</p>
<p>At this he was very angry, and sent to have the woman seized and
brought before him. But when the widow came, she told him that she had
played this trick because she wanted to gain an audience with him; and
she spoke so cleverly, and pleased him so well with her cunning words,
that instead of punishing her, the Raja married her, and made her his
Ranee, and she and her daughter came to live in the palace.</p>
<p>Now the new Ranee hated the seven poor Princesses, and wanted to get
them, if possible, out of the way, in order that her daughter might
have all their riches, and live in the palace as Princess in their
place; and instead of being grateful to them for their kindness to
her, she did all she could to make them miserable. She gave them
nothing but bread to eat, and very little of that, and very little
water to drink; so these seven poor little Princesses, who had been
accustomed to have everything comfortable about them, and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</SPAN></span> good food
and good clothes all their lives long, were very miserable and
unhappy; and they used to go out every day and sit by their dead
mother's tomb and cry—and say:</p>
<p>"Oh mother, mother, cannot you see your poor children, how unhappy we
are, and how we are starved by our cruel step-mother?"</p>
<p>One day, whilst they were thus sobbing and crying, lo and behold! a
beautiful pomelo tree grew up out of the grave, covered with fresh
ripe pomeloes, and the children satisfied their hunger by eating some
of the fruit, and every day after this, instead of trying to eat the
bad dinner their step-mother provided for them, they used to go out to
their mother's grave and eat the pomeloes which grew there on the
beautiful tree.</p>
<p>Then the Ranee said to her daughter, "I cannot tell how it is, every
day those seven girls say they don't want any dinner, and won't eat
any; and yet they never grow thin nor look ill; they look better than
you do. I cannot tell how it is." And she bade her watch the seven
Princesses, and see if any one gave them anything to eat.</p>
<p>So next day, when the Princesses went to their mother's grave, and
were eating the beautiful pomeloes, the Prudhan's daughter followed
them, and saw them gathering the fruit.</p>
<p>Then Balna said to her sisters, "Do you not see that girl watching us?
Let us drive her away, or hide the pomeloes, else she will go and tell
her mother all about it, and that will be very bad for us."</p>
<p>But the other sisters said, "Oh no, do not be unkind, Balna. The girl
would never be so cruel as to tell her mother. Let us rather invite
her to come and have some<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</SPAN></span> of the fruit." And calling her to them,
they gave her one of the pomeloes.</p>
<p>No sooner had she eaten it, however, than the Prudhan's daughter went
home and said to her mother, "I do not wonder the seven Princesses
will not eat the dinner you prepare for them, for by their mother's
grave there grows a beautiful pomelo tree, and they go there every day
and eat the pomeloes. I ate one, and it was the nicest I have ever
tasted."</p>
<p>The cruel Ranee was much vexed at hearing this, and all next day she
stayed in her room, and told the Raja that she had a very bad
headache. The Raja was deeply grieved, and said to his wife, "What can
I do for you?" She answered, "There is only one thing that will make
my headache well. By your dead wife's tomb there grows a fine pomelo
tree; you must bring that here, and boil it, root and branch, and put
a little of the water in which it has been boiled, on my forehead, and
that will cure my headache." So the Raja sent his servants, and had
the beautiful pomelo tree pulled up by the roots, and did as the Ranee
desired; and when some of the water, in which it had been boiled, was
put on her forehead, she said her headache was gone and she felt quite
well.</p>
<p>Next day, when the seven Princesses went as usual to the grave of
their mother, the pomelo tree had disappeared. Then they all began to
cry very bitterly.</p>
<p>Now there was by the Ranee's tomb a small tank, and as they were
crying they saw that the tank was filled with a rich cream-like
substance, which quickly hardened into a thick white cake. At seeing
this all the Princesses were very glad, and they ate some of the cake,
and liked it; and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</SPAN></span> next day the same thing happened, and so it went on
for many days. Every morning the Princesses went to their mother's
grave, and found the little tank filled with the nourishing cream-like
cake. Then the cruel step-mother said to her daughter: "I cannot tell
how it is, I have had the pomelo tree which used to grow by the
Ranee's grave destroyed, and yet the Princesses grow no thinner, nor
look more sad, though they never eat the dinner I give them. I cannot
tell how it is!"</p>
<p>And her daughter said, "I will watch."</p>
<p>Next day, while the Princesses were eating the cream cake, who should
come by but their step-mother's daughter. Balna saw her first, and
said, "See, sisters, there comes that girl again. Let us sit round the
edge of the tank and not allow her to see it, for if we give her some
of our cake, she will go and tell her mother; and that will be very
unfortunate for us."</p>
<p>The other sisters, however, thought Balna unnecessarily suspicious,
and instead of following her advice, they gave the Prudhan's daughter
some of the cake, and she went home and told her mother all about it.</p>
<p>The Ranee, on hearing how well the Princesses fared, was exceedingly
angry, and sent her servants to pull down the dead Ranee's tomb, and
fill the little tank with the ruins. And not content with this, she
next day pretended to be very, very ill—in fact, at the point of
death—and when the Raja was much grieved, and asked her whether it
was in his power to procure her any remedy, she said to him: "Only one
thing can save my life, but I know you will not do it." He replied,
"Yes, whatever it is, I will do it." She then said, "To save my life,
you must kill the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</SPAN></span> seven daughters of your first wife, and put some of
their blood on my forehead and on the palms of my hands, and their
death will be my life." At these words the Raja was very sorrowful;
but because he feared to break his word, he went out with a heavy
heart to find his daughters.</p>
<p>He found them crying by the ruins of their mother's grave.</p>
<p>Then, feeling he could not kill them, the Raja spoke kindly to them,
and told them to come out into the jungle with him; and there he made
a fire and cooked some rice, and gave it to them. But in the
afternoon, it being very hot, the seven Princesses all fell asleep,
and when he saw they were fast asleep, the Raja, their father, stole
away and left them (for he feared his wife), saying to himself: "It is
better my poor daughters should die here, than be killed by their
step-mother."</p>
<p>He then shot a deer, and returning home, put some of its blood on the
forehead and hands of the Ranee, and she thought then that he had
really killed the Princesses, and said she felt quite well.</p>
<p>Meantime the seven Princesses awoke, and when they found themselves
all alone in the thick jungle they were much frightened, and began to
call out as loud as they could, in hopes of making their father hear;
but he was by that time far away, and would not have been able to hear
them even had their voices been as loud as thunder.</p>
<p>It so happened that this very day the seven young sons of a
neighbouring Raja chanced to be hunting in that same jungle, and as
they were returning home, after the day's sport was over, the youngest
Prince said to his brothers: "Stop, I think I hear some one crying and
calling out.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</SPAN></span> Do you not hear voices? Let us go in the direction of
the sound, and find out what it is."</p>
<p>So the seven Princes rode through the wood until they came to the
place where the seven Princesses sat crying and wringing their hands.
At the sight of them the young Princes were very much astonished, and
still more so on learning their story; and they settled that each
should take one of these poor forlorn ladies home with him, and marry
her.</p>
<p>So the first and eldest Prince took the eldest Princess home with him,
and married her.</p>
<p>And the second took the second;</p>
<p>And the third took the third;</p>
<p>And the fourth took the fourth;</p>
<p>And the fifth took the fifth;</p>
<p>And the sixth took the sixth;</p>
<p>And the seventh, and the handsomest of all, took the beautiful Balna.</p>
<p>And when they got to their own land, there was great rejoicing
throughout the kingdom, at the marriage of the seven young Princes to
seven such beautiful Princesses.</p>
<p>About a year after this Balna had a little son, and his uncles and
aunts were so fond of the boy that it was as if he had seven fathers
and seven mothers. None of the other Princes and Princesses had any
children, so the son of the seventh Prince and Balna was acknowledged
their heir by all the rest.</p>
<p>They had thus lived very happily for some time, when one fine day the
seventh Prince (Balna's husband) said he would go out hunting, and
away he went; and they waited long for him, but he never came back.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Then his six brothers said they would go and see what had become of
him; and they went away, but they also did not return.</p>
<p>And the seven Princesses grieved very much, for they feared that their
kind husbands must have been killed.</p>
<p>One day, not long after this had happened, as Balna was rocking her
baby's cradle, and whilst her sisters were working in the room below,
there came to the palace door a man in a long black dress, who said
that he was a Fakir, and came to beg. The servants said to him, "You
cannot go into the palace—the Raja's sons have all gone away; we
think they must be dead, and their widows cannot be interrupted by
your begging." But he said, "I am a holy man, you must let me in."
Then the stupid servants let him walk through the palace, but they did
not know that this was no Fakir, but a wicked Magician named Punchkin.</p>
<p>Punchkin Fakir wandered through the palace, and saw many beautiful
things there, till at last he reached the room where Balna sat singing
beside her little boy's cradle. The Magician thought her more
beautiful than all the other beautiful things he had seen, insomuch
that he asked her to go home with him and to marry him. But she said,
"My husband, I fear, is dead, but my little boy is still quite young;
I will stay here and teach him to grow up a clever man, and when he is
grown up he shall go out into the world, and try and learn tidings of
his father. Heaven forbid that I should ever leave him, or marry you."
At these words the Magician was very angry, and turned her into a
little black dog, and led her away; saying, "Since you will not come
with me of your own free will, I will make you." So the poor Princess
was dragged away,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</SPAN></span> without any power of effecting an escape, or of
letting her sisters know what had become of her. As Punchkin passed
through the palace gate the servants said to him, "Where did you get
that pretty little dog?" And he answered, "One of the Princesses gave
it to me as a present." At hearing which they let him go without
further questioning.</p>
<p>Soon after this, the six elder Princesses heard the little baby, their
nephew, begin to cry, and when they went upstairs they were much
surprised to find him all alone, and Balna nowhere to be seen. Then
they questioned the servants, and when they heard of the Fakir and the
little black dog, they guessed what had happened, and sent in every
direction seeking them, but neither the Fakir nor the dog were to be
found. What could six poor women do? They gave up all hopes of ever
seeing their kind husbands, and their sister, and her husband, again,
and devoted themselves thenceforward to teaching and taking care of
their little nephew.</p>
<p>Thus time went on, till Balna's son was fourteen years old. Then, one
day, his aunts told him the history of the family; and no sooner did
he hear it, than he was seized with a great desire to go in search of
his father and mother and uncles, and if he could find them alive to
bring them home again. His aunts, on learning his determination, were
much alarmed and tried to dissuade him, saying, "We have lost our
husbands, and our sister and her husband, and you are now our sole
hope; if you go away, what shall we do?" But he replied, "I pray you
not to be discouraged; I will return soon, and if it is possible bring
my father and mother and uncles with me." So he set out on his
travels;<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</SPAN></span> but for some months he could learn nothing to help him in
his search.</p>
<p>At last, after he had journeyed many hundreds of weary miles, and
become almost hopeless of ever hearing anything further of his
parents, he one day came to a country that seemed full of stones, and
rocks, and trees, and there he saw a large palace with a high tower;
hard by which was a Malee's little house.</p>
<p>As he was looking about, the Malee's wife saw him, and ran out of the
house and said, "My dear boy, who are you that dare venture to this
dangerous place?" He answered, "I am a Raja's son, and I come in
search of my father, and my uncles, and my mother whom a wicked
enchanter bewitched."</p>
<p>Then the Malee's wife said, "This country and this palace belong to a
great enchanter; he is all powerful, and if any one displeases him, he
can turn them into stones and trees. All the rocks and trees you see
here were living people once, and the Magician turned them to what
they now are. Some time ago a Raja's son came here, and shortly
afterwards came his six brothers, and they were all turned into stones
and trees; and these are not the only unfortunate ones, for up in that
tower lives a beautiful Princess, whom the Magician has kept prisoner
there for twelve years, because she hates him and will not marry him."</p>
<p>Then the little Prince thought, "These must be my parents and my
uncles. I have found what I seek at last." So he told his story to the
Malee's wife, and begged her to help him to remain in that place
awhile and inquire further concerning the unhappy people she
mentioned; and she<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</SPAN></span> promised to befriend him, and advised his
disguising himself lest the Magician should see him, and turn him
likewise into stone. To this the Prince agreed. So the Malee's wife
dressed him up in a saree, and pretended that he was her daughter.</p>
<p>One day, not long after this, as the Magician was walking in his
garden he saw the little girl (as he thought) playing about, and asked
her who she was. She told him she was the Malee's daughter, and the
Magician said, "You are a pretty little girl, and to-morrow you shall
take a present of flowers from me to the beautiful lady who lives in
the tower."</p>
<p>The young Prince was much delighted at hearing this, and went
immediately to inform the Malee's wife; after consultation with whom
he determined that it would be more safe for him to retain his
disguise, and trust to the chance of a favourable opportunity for
establishing some communication with his mother, if it were indeed
she.</p>
<p>Now it happened that at Balna's marriage her husband had given her a
small gold ring on which her name was engraved, and she had put it on
her little son's finger when he was a baby, and afterwards when he was
older his aunts had had it enlarged for him, so that he was still able
to wear it. The Malee's wife advised him to fasten the well-known
treasure to one of the bouquets he presented to his mother, and trust
to her recognising it. This was not to be done without difficulty, as
such a strict watch was kept over the poor Princess (for fear of her
ever establishing communication with her friends), that though the
supposed Malee's daughter was permitted to take her flowers every day,
the Magician or one of his slaves was always in the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</SPAN></span> room at the time.
At last one day, however, opportunity favoured him, and when no one
was looking, the boy tied the ring to a nosegay, and threw it at
Balna's feet. It fell with a clang on the floor, and Balna, looking to
see what made the strange sound, found the little ring tied to the
flowers. On recognising it, she at once believed the story her son
told her of his long search, and begged him to advise her as to what
she had better do; at the same time entreating him on no account to
endanger his life by trying to rescue her. She told him that for
twelve long years the Magician had kept her shut up in the tower
because she refused to marry him, and she was so closely guarded that
she saw no hope of release.</p>
<p>Now Balna's son was a bright, clever boy, so he said, "Do not fear,
dear mother; the first thing to do is to discover how far the
Magician's power extends, in order that we may be able to liberate my
father and uncles, whom he has imprisoned in the form of rocks and
trees. You have spoken to him angrily for twelve long years; now
rather speak kindly. Tell him you have given up all hopes of again
seeing the husband you have so long mourned, and say you are willing
to marry him. Then endeavour to find out what his power consists in,
and whether he is immortal, or can be put to death."</p>
<p>Balna determined to take her son's advice; and the next day sent for
Punchkin, and spoke to him as had been suggested.</p>
<p>The Magician, greatly delighted, begged her to allow the wedding to
take place as soon as possible.</p>
<p>But she told him that before she married him he must allow her a
little more time, in which she might make his<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</SPAN></span> acquaintance, and that,
after being enemies so long, their friendship could but strengthen by
degrees. "And do tell me," she said, "are you quite immortal? Can
death never touch you? And are you too great an enchanter ever to feel
human suffering?"</p>
<p>"Why do you ask?" said he.</p>
<p>"Because," she replied, "if I am to be your wife, I would fain know
all about you, in order, if any calamity threatens you, to overcome,
or if possible to avert it."</p>
<p>"It is true," he added, "that I am not as others. Far, far away,
hundreds of thousands of miles from this, there lies a desolate
country covered with thick jungle. In the midst of the jungle grows a
circle of palm trees, and in the centre of the circle stand six
chattees full of water, piled one above another: below the sixth
chattee is a small cage which contains a little green parrot; on the
life of the parrot depends my life; and if the parrot is killed I must
die. It is, however," he added, "impossible that the parrot should
sustain any injury, both on account of the inaccessibility of the
country, and because, by my appointment, many thousand genii surround
the palm trees, and kill all who approach the place."</p>
<p>Balna told her son what Punchkin had said; but at the same time
implored him to give up all idea of getting the parrot.</p>
<p>The Prince, however, replied, "Mother, unless I can get hold of that
parrot, you, and my father, and uncles, cannot be liberated: be not
afraid, I will shortly return. Do you, meantime, keep the Magician in
good humour—still putting off your marriage with him on various
pretexts; and before he finds out the cause of delay, I will be here."
So saying, he went away.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Many, many weary miles did he travel, till at last he came to a thick
jungle; and, being very tired, sat down under a tree and fell asleep.
He was awakened by a soft rustling sound, and looking about him, saw a
large serpent which was making its way to an eagle's nest built in the
tree under which he lay, and in the nest were two young eagles. The
Prince seeing the danger of the young birds, drew his sword, and
killed the serpent; at the same moment a rushing sound was heard in
the air, and the two old eagles, who had been out hunting for food for
their young ones, returned. They quickly saw the dead serpent and the
young Prince standing over it; and the old mother eagle said to him,
"Dear boy, for many years all our young ones have been devoured by
that cruel serpent; you have now saved the lives of our children;
whenever you are in need, therefore, send to us and we will help you;
and as for these little eagles, take them, and let them be your
servants."</p>
<p>At this the Prince was very glad, and the two eaglets crossed their
wings, on which he mounted; and they carried him far, far away over
the thick jungles, until he came to the place where grew the circle of
palm trees, in the midst of which stood the six chattees full of
water. It was the middle of the day, and the heat was very great. All
round the trees were the genii fast asleep; nevertheless, there were
such countless thousands of them, that it would have been quite
impossible for any one to walk through their ranks to the place; down
swooped the strong-winged eaglets—down jumped the Prince; in an
instant he had overthrown the six chattees full of water, and seized
the little green parrot, which he rolled up in his cloak; while,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</SPAN></span> as
he mounted again into the air, all the genii below awoke, and finding
their treasure gone, set up a wild and melancholy howl.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="image_03" id="image_03"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/image_083.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="706" alt="Punchkin's Prisoners are set free." title="" /> <span class="caption">Punchkin's Prisoners are set free.</span></div>
<p>Away, away flew the little eagles, till they came to their home in the
great tree; then the Prince said to the old eagles, "Take back your
little ones; they have done me good service; if ever again I stand in
need of help, I will not fail to come to you." He then continued his
journey on foot till he arrived once more at the Magician's palace,
where he sat down at the door and began playing with the parrot.
Punchkin saw him, and came to him quickly, and said, "My boy, where
did you get that parrot? Give it to me, I pray you."</p>
<p>But the Prince answered, "Oh no, I cannot give away my parrot, it is a
great pet of mine; I have had it many years."</p>
<p>Then the Magician said, "If it is an old favourite, I can understand
your not caring to give it away; but come what will you sell it for?"</p>
<p>"Sir," replied the Prince, "I will not sell my parrot."</p>
<p>Then Punchkin got frightened, and said, "Anything, anything; name what
price you will, and it shall be yours." The Prince answered, "Let the
seven Raja's sons whom you turned into rocks and trees be instantly
liberated."</p>
<p>"It is done as you desire," said the Magician, "only give me my
parrot." And with that, by a stroke of his wand, Balna's husband and
his brothers resumed their natural shapes. "Now, give me my parrot,"
repeated Punchkin.</p>
<p>"Not so fast, my master," rejoined the Prince; "I must <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</SPAN></span>first
beg that you will restore to life all whom you have thus imprisoned."</p>
<p>The Magician immediately waved his wand again; and, whilst he cried,
in an imploring voice, "Give me my parrot!" the whole garden became
suddenly alive: where rocks, and stones, and trees had been before,
stood Rajas, and Punts, and Sirdars, and mighty men on prancing
horses, and jewelled pages, and troops of armed attendants.</p>
<p>"Give me my parrot!" cried Punchkin. Then the boy took hold of the
parrot, and tore off one of its wings; and as he did so the Magician's
right arm fell off.</p>
<p>Punchkin then stretched out his left arm, crying, "Give me my parrot!"
The Prince pulled off the parrot's second wing, and the Magician's
left arm tumbled off.</p>
<p>"Give me my parrot!" cried he, and fell on his knees. The Prince
pulled off the parrot's right leg, the Magician's right leg fell off:
the Prince pulled off the parrot's left leg, down fell the Magician's
left.</p>
<p>Nothing remained of him save the limbless body and the head; but still
he rolled his eyes, and cried, "Give me my parrot!" "Take your parrot,
then," cried the boy, and with that he wrung the bird's neck, and
threw it at the Magician; and, as he did so, Punchkin's head twisted
round, and, with a fearful groan, he died!</p>
<p>Then they let Balna out of the tower; and she, her son, and the seven
Princes went to their own country, and lived very happily ever
afterwards. And as to the rest of the world, every one went to his own
house.</p>
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