Page:Works of Tagore from the Modern Review, 1909-24 Segment 1.pdf/116

56 him, saying, "Go back to your own daughter, Rahmud, in your own country, and may the happiness of your meeting bring fortune to my child!"

Having made this present, I had to curtail some items of the festivities. I could not have the electric lights I had intended, nor the military band, and the ladies of the house were very despondent over this. But to me the wedding feast was all the brighter for the thought that in a distant land a long lost father had met again with his only child.

N every typical Mūndā village, there is a common dormitory or "giti-ōrā" for all the bachelors, and another for all the maidens of the village. This 'giti-orā' is at once a sleeping-house, a club, and an educational seminary, for the young folk. But the Mūndā is an unalphabet, and up till recently instruction through books was altogether unknown to the non-Christian Mūndā. Even to this day, it is only a microscopic minority of the unconverted Mūndās who have learnt the Hindi alphabet. The only vehicle for instruction and culture known to the ordinary Mūndā is folklore or 'kāhāni', consisting of narratives or folktales, riddles, and proverbs. These are recited and learnt in the evening, by young bachelors and maidens assembled in their respective 'giti-orās', after the day's work is over.

The commoner class of folktales are called 'kāji-kāhānis, and are in prose. As an instance we give below the story of the Tiger and the Thief—"Kūlā ād kūmbūrūā-kā-āni":—

A thief used to lurk about a king's stable night after night, seeking an opportunity to steal a horse. For the first few nights, no suitable opportunity presented itself. But at length the opportunity came, and on one dark night the thief entered the unguarded stable, unperceived. A tiger, however, had already noticed the thief lurking about the stable. And anticipating that the thief would enter the stable, and promising himself a meal of human flesh, the tiger forestalled him and lay crouching at one end of the stable. The thief on entering the dark stable, began to scrutinise each animal by feeling its back with his hands. When at length he felt the back of the tiger, he adjudged this to be the best horse in the whole stable. Accordingly he put a bridle into this selected animal's mouth, and forthwith got up on its back. Unused to such treatment, the tiger got frightened out of his wits and thought within himself that the man who thus succeeded in mounting his back was undoubtedly stronger and more powerful than himself. In a mortal fright, the tiger began to run with all possible speed. And thus with the thief on his back, on and on he ran through jungles and over rocks, the whole night through. The thief too was no less frightened than the animal on whose back he rode. And at frequent intervals, the thief would call out to the animal in the most coaxing tones he could command,—"Slowly, slowly, O royal horse," "Wait a little, O king's horse!". At these words, however, the tiger would get more frightened than ever, and would double his speed. When, at length, day dawned, the thief was horrified at discovering that he was riding a veritable tiger. His first consternation, however, did not get the better of the thief's accustomed presence of mind. At the very first opportunity he caught hold of the overhanging branches of a tree. And, in the twinkling of an eye, he scrambled up the tree and heaved a sigh of relief. The tiger too was overjoyed at finding his human rider mysteriously van shed. And in great glee the animal ran away with all possible speed. When the tiger was at a safe distance, the thief got down from the tree but felt so exhausted that he lay down on the ridge of