Part 3 (1/2)

The monkey screamed and kicked, fought and scratched, but in vain; the king held on, and at last the monkey climbed down the tree taking the king with him, and the latter was speedily standing once more on solid ground and able to offer up his thanks to the mighty Lord Sa Kyah.

The king was not long in reaching the city and when he arrived, to his great sorrow he saw, as he expected, his ungrateful brother reigning, while the people all sorrowed for their old king. He determined to wait awhile before he declared himself, feeling that the Lord Sa Kyah who had already once helped him when in trouble and danger would aid him in regaining his lost kingdom; so he went into the poorest part of the city, put on the poorest and most ragged clothes that he could find, and sat near the gate of the city begging, from whence he often saw his brother riding by in state.

One day the heralds came riding by and stood in the open s.p.a.ce fronting the market where the gambling booths are, and gave notice that the king had commanded that if anybody could bend the magic bow belonging to the late king, his brother, he was to be made the chief _amat_ of the kingdom and receive many and great presents besides.

As may be imagined, the next day there was a great crowd gathered together at the great gate of the palace, waiting for the king. At last out he came with all his ministers and followed by attendants bearing golden umbrellas. Behind him came a soldier carrying over his shoulder the magic bow which was placed at the king's feet. The king called upon his soldiers to come and bend the bow, and the strongest of them came forward, but although they pulled and tugged, tugged and strained, they could not bend it. Then the people of the city, or ”the king's people,”

as they loved to call themselves in contradistinction to the people who lived in the jungle villages, tried, but met with no better success than the soldiers. They could not bend the bow. The king then ordered the _amat long_ to call the men from the jungle. The very strongest coolies, those who carried heavy burdens over the mountains, came in answer to the king's summons, but although some of them could carry fifty _soie_ over the highest mountain they could not draw the cord a hand's-breadth.

The king, much disappointed, was about to return to the palace when a beggar man approached and bowing at his feet said he was able to draw the bow and fire an arrow from it. The king was angry at what he thought was the presumption of this beggar. The soldiers derided him, saying that the bravest of them could not draw the bow and how was a beggar to do it? The coolies also asked him whether he could carry fifty _soie_ over Loi Mawk Pah that was called the Cloud Mountain, because its head was often in the clouds. But the beggar asked to be allowed to try and the king gave orders that he should be given the bow, at the same saying that he a.s.suredly should be made _amat long_ if he was successful, but if he could not bend the bow, he should be put to death immediately.

The beggar a.s.sented to these terms and seized the bow. He took hold of the string and without any show of strength pulled it a hand's-breadth, and then as the king and his courtiers looked on in amazement he pulled it to its full length, placed the string on the ivory trigger, put an arrow on it, and asked the king where he should shoot.

”Straight up into the air,” said the king. The beggar raised the bow, tw.a.n.g went the string, and the arrow whizzed out of sight. Everybody stood looking up into the sky when suddenly one of the courtiers gave a warning cry. It came too late. The arrow had gone straight up, turned, and fell almost on the same spot from whence it was shot. Almost, but not quite, for in its fall it struck the upturned face of the king and he fell dead.

A great cry was raised as the king fell and the guards rushed forward to seize the beggar and lead him to immediate execution, but he waved them off with a gesture of his hand. The next instant his rags fell from him and he stood before them in the royal robes of a king.

Thus we see that the younger brother, although indeed he had not murdered his brother the king, yet did kill him in his thoughts and intentions, and he suffered the punishment that is always meted out to the man who kills his fellow.

STORY OF THE PRINCESS NANG KAM UNG

There was once a king who reigned over one of the largest States in the hill and water country. For a long time there had been war between him and the _sau hpa_ of the neighboring State, but at last his soldiers had been successful, and his enemy had been driven out of his possessions, which had thereupon been added to his own. A great feast had been given when his soldiers returned to their homes, and he was now sitting with his queens and his seven daughters in the palace watching a performance given in honor of the victory. He praised the actors for their skill, and then asked his daughters whether they had enjoyed the performance.

They one and all a.s.sured him that they had enjoyed it much, and then turning to them he continued:

”That is right, my daughters, enjoy yourselves to-day and to-morrow and all through your lives. You are the daughters of a mighty king, and it is your lot to be happy and enjoy yourselves all your lives, therefore again I say enjoy yourselves and be happy.”

The eldest of the daughters, who was a perfect courtier said: ”O our lord, our luck is fortunate, because it depends on that of the lord our father, and who is so fortunate as he?”

The king was very pleased with the flattery of his daughter, and promised to grant any request she would make of him.

The youngest daughter, however, was young and foolish, and had not yet learned the truth that in a king's presence it is not well always to say what one thinks, and therefore she said to her sister: ”Your luck may depend on the luck of the lord our father, but mine is my own and depends upon myself alone.”

When the king heard this he was very angry that one of his daughters, and she the youngest too, should have the presumption to say that she depended for anything at all on any other than he, and he determined to punish her.

For a long time he pondered on the best way to do this and at last devised a plan which, if severe, was at least novel.

He called his _amats_ to go throughout the whole land and search for the poorest man in all his kingdom, and when they had found him they were to bring him to the palace and he would marry his youngest daughter to him, and then, said he, ”We will see about luck after that.”

Day after day the heralds searched the land but they could not find a man poor enough to suit the king. All who were brought before him acknowledged that they had something valuable, either a little money, a precious stone, or a distant relative who was rich and from whom they could borrow a little if necessary. A man of this description would not suit the angry king. He wanted one poorer than that.

At last the _amat long_, or chief minister, brought a man before him and said that he was the poorest in all the land. His name was Ai Du Ka Ta.

He was a woodseller in the bazaar, who every day went into the jungle and picked up the dead branches of the trees that had fallen to the ground, and brought them to the market every fifth day to sell. So poor was he that he did not even own the sword that is the almost inseparable companion of the Shan and is used, among other things, to cut down the small trees that are left to dry for firewood, so he had to be content to pick up the small branches that he found under the trees, and got a proportionately small price when he carried his load into the bazaar.

When he appeared before the king, his trousers were all fringed at the bottom where they had been torn by the thorns in the jungle. His turban months before had been white, but now it was a deep gray; it was only half its original length and was full of holes. Jacket he had none, and when the king asked him how many blankets he had upon his bed at home to keep him warm at night when the cold wind brought the rain up the valley, he answered sorrowfully, ”Not one, our lord.” He had no relative except an old mother whom he was obliged to support, and who was known throughout the district in which she lived as the woman with the bitterest tongue in all the land, and when too sick to move from her mat, she would yet fill the air with poisoned words.

The king was very pleased with his _amat long_ for finding Ai Du Ka Ta, and gave him a very fine horse as a reward. Then he called his daughter, took away all her fine clothes and married her to this poorest man in his realm and drove her out of the palace amid the jeers and taunts of the very people who, before her disgrace, had waited upon her every word and had done her bidding while they trembled before her. The king also took away her old name and commanded that in future she was to be known as Nang Kam Ung, which means, ”The woman whose luck depends upon herself.”

The house, or rather hut, to which Ai Du Ka Ta took his bride was in the jungle. It was only four bamboo poles stuck in the ground and covered with dried gra.s.s and bushes. Not even a sleeping mat was on the ground--there was no floor--and the chattie in which he cooked his rice had a hole in it, and had to be set upon three stones sideways over the fire with the hole uppermost, to prevent the water leaking and putting out the fire.