Page:Indian Fairy Tales (Stokes, 1879).djvu/265

Rh killed him immediately with his sword because of his oath, though he loved Karámat dearly. The "mother was still sadder than before, but she never wept." Then God took pity on her and sent down into Prince Aisab's garden a big bél-tree, and on this bél-tree was a fruit. Every one tried to gather this fruit, even Prince Aisab tried, but each time their hands approached it the fruit rose into the air and returned again when the hands were withdrawn. Then Gulíanár stretched out her hand "and the fruit fell into it." She took it into the house and tried to break it open with a stone, and a voice called out, "Mother, mother, not so hard; you hurt us." She was very much frightened, thinking a Rakshas or a demon was in the fruit. Prince Aisab was equally alarmed, but his wazír, Mamatsa, broke the fruit open gently in obedience to the little voice that called out, "Don't knock so hard, Mamatsa; you hurt us;" and out of it stepped the children Dímá-ahmad and Karámat. Dámá-ahmad was "very beautiful. On his head was the sun, on his face the moon, and on his hands stars, and he had long golden hair." He married a princess, Atásá, who also had the sun on her head, the moon on her face, stars on her hands, and "her hair was of pure gold and reached down to the ground." The idea that none but the rightful owner can catch the child is found too in Grey's Polynesian Mythology at pp. 116, 117, in the story of Whakatau, who was fashioned in the sea from his mother Apakura's apron by the god Rongotakawiu. This child lived at the bottom of the sea; but one day he came on shore after his kite, and all who saw him tried in vain to catch him. Then said Whakatau, "You had better go and bring Apakura here; she is the only person who can catch me and hold me fast." His mother then comes and catches him.

5. Sunkási's bones are sent to her mother. In the Sicilianische Maerchen collected by Laura Gonzenbach, it is a common practice for husbands to punish their second wives' treachery with death, and then to send their remains to their mothers, who feast on them, thinking they are eating tunny-fish, and die of grief on learning what they have really swallowed.