Page:Folk-lore - A Quarterly Review. Volume 8, 1897.djvu/103

Rh to go?" The governor replied: "Yes, you have my leave to go." So they let their mares go, and left all the others behind, and came galloping past the post where the governor was sitting; and Dostèn called out: "Governor! we have your leave to go, and we are going;" and with that they started off. The governor called to his army to follow them. "Do not let them go! Catch them! Kill them!" he shouted; and off went all the troop at their heels. They made for the Chāchar Pass. When they had got a little beyond Toba (a spring) a grey mare (among the pursuers) fell and died, and ever since then the place has been called Nīli-Lakrī (the Grey-Mare's-Plateau). And further on that day a dun horse came down and died, and the place is still called Bhūrā-Pusht (Dun-Horse-Ridge). And at Nīlā-Khund (Grey-Horse-Vale), below the Phailāwagh Plain, a grey horse stumbled and fell and died. All these names have been fixed to these spots ever since. And at Phailāwagh the troop gave up the pursuit and returned to Harrand.

Dostèn and his companion made their way to Narmukh, for there his home was. When they arrived there in the evening they saw a boy grazing a flock of lambs, and they noticed that he was weeping. Dostèn asked him what he was weeping for, and the boy said: "My brother was carried away into captivity a long time ago, and left his bride behind him; and now they have given her to another, and to-day they are marrying her. That is why I am weeping."

Then Dostèn said: "What was your brother's name?" and the boy said: "He was called Dostèn." Then Dostèn said: "Do not weep, for God will bring your brother back again." Then he asked the boy to show him where the wedding was to take place. He pointed out the place and they rode on, and coming to the village saw all the preparations for a wedding going on, and alighted by the wedding scaffold. The Rinds said: "Who are you?" and Dostèn said: "We are Doms" (the minstrel tribe). Then the people asked if they knew any songs, and Dostèn said: "Certainly we do; are we not Doms? Bring out a dambīro, and I'll sing you ballads enough." They brought him a dambīro, and he sat down and sang that song which Shīrèn had written on paper and sent to him, and this is the song he sang: