The Boy Whom Seven Mothers Suckled

Once on a time there reigned a king who had seven queens. He was

very sad, for the seven queens were all barren. A holy mendicant,

however, one day told the king that in a certain forest there grew

a tree, on a branch of which hung seven mangoes; if the king himself

plucked those mangoes and gave one to each of the queens they would

all become mothers. So the king went to the forest, plucked the seven

mangoes that grew upon one branch, and gave a mango to each of the

queens to eat. In a short time the king's heart was filled with joy,

as he heard that the seven queens were all with child.

One day the king was out hunting, when he saw a young lady of peerless

beauty cross his path. He fell in love with her, brought her to his

palace, and married her. This lady was, however, not a human being,

but a Rakshasi; but the king of course did not know it. The king became

dotingly fond of her; he did whatever she told him. She said one day

to the king, "You say that you love me more than any one else. Let

me see whether you really love me so. If you love me, make your seven

other queens blind, and let them be killed." The king became very sad

at the request of his best-beloved queen, the more so as the seven

queens were all with child. But there was nothing for it but to comply

with the Rakshasi-queen's request. The eyes of the seven queens were

plucked out of their sockets, and the queens themselves were delivered

up to the chief minister to be destroyed. But the chief minister was

a merciful man. Instead of killing the seven queens he hid them in a

cave which was on the side of a hill. In course of time the eldest

of the seven queens gave birth to a child. "What shall I do with

the child," said she, "now that we are blind and are dying for want

of food? Let me kill the child, and let us all eat of its flesh." So

saying she killed the infant, and gave to each of her sister-queens a

part of the child to eat. The six ate their portion, but the seventh

or youngest queen did not eat her share, but laid it beside her. In a

few days the second queen also was delivered of a child, and she did

with it as her eldest sister had done with hers. So did the third,

the fourth, the fifth, and the sixth queen. At last the seventh

queen gave birth to a son; but she, instead of following the example

of her sister-queens, resolved to nurse the child. The other queens

demanded their portions of the newly-born babe. She gave each of them

the portion she had got of the six children which had been killed,

and which she had not eaten but laid aside. The other queens at once

perceived that their portions were dry, and could not therefore be

the parts of the child just born. The seventh queen told them that she

had made up her mind not to kill the child but to nurse it. The others

were glad to hear this, and they all said that they would help her in

nursing the child. So the child was suckled by seven mothers, and it

became after some years the hardiest and strongest boy that ever lived.

In the meantime the Rakshasi-wife of the king was doing infinite

mischief to the royal household and to the capital. What she ate at

the royal table did not fill her capacious stomach. She therefore,

in the darkness of night, gradually ate up all the members of the

royal family, all the king's servants and attendants, all his horses,

elephants, and cattle; till none remained in the palace except she

herself and her royal consort. After that she used to go out in

the evenings into the city and eat up a stray human being here and

there. The king was left unattended by servants; there was no person

left to cook for him, for no one would take his service. At last the

boy who had been suckled by seven mothers, and who had now grown up to

a stalwart youth, volunteered his services. He attended on the king,

and took every care to prevent the queen from swallowing him up, for

he went away home long before nightfall; and the Rakshasi-queen never

seized her victims except at night. Hence the queen determined in

some other way to get rid of the boy. As the boy always boasted that

he was equal to any work, however hard, the queen told him that she

was suffering from some disease which could be cured only by eating a

certain species of melon, which was twelve cubits long, but the stone

of which was thirteen cubits long, and that that fruit could be had

only from her mother, who lived on the other side of the ocean. She

gave him a letter of introduction to her mother, in which she requested

her to devour the boy the moment he put the letter into her hands. The

boy, suspecting foul play, tore up the letter and proceeded on his

journey. The dauntless youth passed through many lands, and at last

stood on the shore of the ocean, on the other side of which was the

country of the Rakshasis. He then bawled as loud as he could, and

said, "Granny! granny! come and save your daughter; she is dangerously

ill." An old Rakshasi on the other side of the ocean heard the words,

crossed the ocean, came to the boy, and on hearing the message took the

boy on her back and re-crossed the ocean. So the boy was in the country

of the Rakshasis. The twelve-cubit melon with its thirteen-cubit stone

was given to the boy at once, and he was told to perform the journey

back. But the boy pleaded fatigue, and begged to be allowed to rest

one day. To this the old Rakshasi consented. Observing a stout club

and a rope hanging in the Rakshasi's room, the boy inquired what

they were there for. She replied, "Child, by that club and rope I

cross the ocean. If any one takes the club and the rope in his hands,

and addresses them in the following magical words--

"O stout club! O strong rope!

Take me at once to the other side,"

then immediately the club and rope will take him to the other side

of the ocean." Observing a bird in a cage hanging in one corner of

the room, the boy inquired what it was. The old Rakshasi replied,

"It contains a secret, child, which must not be disclosed to mortals,

and yet how can I hide it from my own grandchild? That bird, child,

contains the life of your mother. If the bird is killed, your mother

will at once die." Armed with these secrets, the boy went to bed that

night. Next morning the old Rakshasi, together with all the other

Rakshasis, went to distant countries for forage. The boy took down

the cage from the ceiling, as well as the club and rope. Having well

secured the bird, he addressed the club and rope thus--

"O stout club! O strong rope!

Take me at once to the other side."

In the twinkling of an eye the boy was put on this side of the

ocean. He then retraced his steps, came to the queen, and gave her,

to her astonishment, the twelve-cubit melon with its thirteen-cubit

stone; but the cage with the bird in it he kept carefully concealed.

In the course of time the people of the city came to the king and said,

"A monstrous bird comes out apparently from the palace every evening,

and seizes the passengers in the streets and swallows them up. This

has been going on for so long a time that the city has become almost

desolate." The king could not make out what this monstrous bird

was. The king's servant, the boy, replied that he knew the monstrous

bird, and that he would kill it provided the queen stood beside

the king. By royal command the queen was made to stand beside the

king. The boy then took the bird from the cage which he had brought

from the other side of the ocean, on seeing which she fell into a

fainting fit. Turning to the king the boy said, "Sire, you will soon

perceive who the monstrous bird is that devours your subjects every

evening. As I tear off each limb of this bird, the corresponding limb

of the man-devourer will fall off." The boy then tore off one leg of

the bird in his hand; immediately, to the astonishment of the whole

assembly, for the citizens were all present, one of the legs of the

queen fell off. And when the boy squeezed the throat of the bird,

the queen gave up the ghost. The boy then related his own history

and that of his mother and his stepmothers. The seven queens, whose

eyesight was miraculously restored, were brought back to the palace;

and the boy that was suckled by seven mothers was recognised by the

king as his rightful heir. So they lived together happily.

Thus my story endeth,

The Natiya-thorn withereth, &c.

[18] Sri is another name of Lakshmi, and batsa means child; so that Sribatsa is literally the "child of fortune."