The Son of Seven Mothers

Once upon a time there lived a King who had seven wives, but no

children. This was a great grief to him, especially when he

remembered that on his death there would be no heir to inherit the

kingdom.

Now, one day, a poor old _fakîr_ or religious devotee, came to

the King and said, 'Your prayers are heard, your desire shall be

accomplished, and each of your seven queens shall bear a son.'

The King's delight at this promise knew no bounds, and he gave orders

for appropriate festivities to be prepared against the coming event

throughout the length and breadth of the land.

Meanwhile the seven Queens lived luxuriously in a splendid palace,

attended by hundreds of female slaves, and fed to their hearts'

content on sweetmeats and confectionery.

Now the King was very fond of hunting, and one day, before he started,

the seven Queens sent him a message saying, 'May it please our dearest

lord not to hunt towards the north to-day, for we have dreamt bad

dreams, and fear lest evil should befall you.'

The King, to allay their anxiety, promised regard for their wishes,

and set out towards the south; but as luck would have it, although he

hunted diligently, he found no game. Nor had he greater success to

the east or west, so that, being a keen sportsman, and determined not

to go home empty-handed, he forgot all about his promise, and turned

to the north. Here also he met at first with no reward, but just as

he had made up his mind to give up for that day, a white hind with

golden horns and silver hoofs flashed past him into a thicket. So

quickly did it pass, that he scarcely saw it; nevertheless a burning

desire to capture and possess the beautiful strange creature filled

his breast. He instantly ordered his attendants to form a ring round

the thicket, and so encircle the hind; then, gradually narrowing the

circle, he pressed forward till he could distinctly see the white hind

panting in the midst. Nearer and nearer he advanced, when, just as he

thought to lay hold of the beautiful strange creature, it gave one

mighty bound, leapt clean over the King's head, and fled towards the

mountains. Forgetful of all else, the King, setting spurs to his

horse, followed at full speed. On, on he galloped, leaving his

retinue far behind, but keeping the white hind in view, and never

drawing bridle, until, finding himself in a narrow ravine with no

outlet, he reined in his steed. Before him stood a miserable hovel,

into which, being tired after his long unsuccessful chase, he entered

to ask for a drink of water. An old woman, seated in the hut at a

spinning-wheel, answered his request by calling to her daughter, and

immediately from an inner room came a maiden so lovely and charming,

so white-skinned and golden-haired, that the King was transfixed by

astonishment at seeing so beautiful a sight in the wretched hovel.

She held the vessel of water to the King's lips, and as he drank he

looked into her eyes, and then it became clear to him that the girl

was no other than the white hind with the golden horns and silver feet

he had chased so far.

Her beauty bewitched him completely, and he fell on his knees, begging

her to return with him as his bride; but she only laughed, saying

seven Queens were quite enough even for a King to manage. However,

when he would take no refusal, but implored her to have pity on him,

and promised her everything she could desire, she replied, 'Give me

the eyes of your seven wives, and then perhaps I may believe that you

mean what you say.'

The King was so carried away by the glamour of the white hind's

magical beauty, that he went home at once, had the eyes of his seven

Queens taken out, and, after throwing the poor blind creatures into a

noisome dungeon whence they could not escape, set off once more for

the hovel in the ravine, bearing with him his loathsome offering. But

the white hind only laughed cruelly when she saw the fourteen eyes,

and threading them as a necklace, flung it round her mother's neck,

saying, 'Wear that, little mother, as a keepsake, whilst I am away in

the King's palace.'

Then she went back with the bewitched monarch as his bride, and he

gave her the seven Queens' rich clothes and jewels to wear, the seven

Queens' palace to live in, and the seven Queens' slaves to wait upon

her; so that she really had everything even a witch could desire.

Now, very soon after the seven wretched, hapless Queens were cast into

prison, the first Queen's baby was born. It was a handsome boy, but

the Queens were so desperately hungry that they killed the child at

once, and, dividing it into seven portions, ate it. All except the

youngest Queen, who saved her portion secretly.

The next day the second Queen's baby was born, and they did the same

with it, and with all the babies in turn, one after the other, until

the seventh and youngest Queen's baby was born on the seventh day.

But when the other six Queens came to the young mother, and wanted to

take it away, saying, 'Give us your child to eat, as you have eaten

ours!' she produced the six pieces of the other babies untouched, and

answered, 'Not so! here are six pieces for you; eat them, and leave my

child alone. You cannot complain, for you have each your fair share,

neither more nor less.'

Now, though the other Queens were very jealous that the youngest

amongst them should by forethought and self-denial have saved her

baby's life, they could say nothing; for, as the young mother had told

them, they received their full share. And though at first they

disliked the handsome little boy, he soon proved so useful to them,

that ere long they all looked on him as their son. Almost as soon as

he was born he began scraping at the mud wall of their dungeon, and in

an incredibly short space of time had made a hole big enough for him

to crawl through. Through this he disappeared, returning in an hour

or so laden with sweetmeats, which he divided equally amongst the

seven blind Queens.

As he grew older he enlarged the hole, and slipped out two or three

times every day to play with the little nobles in the town. No one

knew who the tiny boy was, but everybody liked him, and he was so full

of funny tricks and antics, so merry and bright, that he was sure to

be rewarded by some girdle-cakes, a handful of parched grain, or some

sweetmeats. All these things he brought home to his seven mothers, as

he loved to call the seven blind Queens, who by his help lived on in

their dungeon when all the world thought they had starved to death

ages before.

At last, when he was quite a big lad, he one day took his bow and

arrow, and went out to seek for game. Coming by chance upon the

palace where the white hind lived in wicked splendour and

magnificence, he saw some pigeons fluttering round the white marble

turrets, and, taking good aim, shot one dead. It came tumbling past

the very window where the white Queen was sitting; she rose to see

what was the matter, and looked out. At the first glance at the

handsome young lad standing there bow in hand, she knew by witchcraft

that it was the King's son.

She nearly died of envy and spite, determining to destroy the lad

without delay; therefore, sending a servant to bring him to her

presence, she asked him if he would sell her the pigeon he had just

shot.

'No,' replied the sturdy lad, 'the pigeon is for my seven blind

mothers, who live in the noisome dungeon, and who would die if I did

not bring them food.'

'Poor souls!' cried the cunning white witch; 'would you not like to

bring them their eyes again? Give me the pigeon, my dear, and I

faithfully promise to show you where to find them.'

Hearing this, the lad was delighted beyond measure, and gave up the

pigeon at once. Whereupon the white Queen told him to seek her mother

without delay, and ask for the eyes which she wore as a necklace.

'She will not fail to give them,' said the cruel Queen, 'if you show

her this token on which I have written what I want done.'

So saying, she gave the lad a piece of broken potsherd, with these

words inscribed on it--'Kill the bearer at once, and sprinkle his

blood like water!'

Now, as the son of seven mothers could not read, he took the fatal

message cheerfully, and set off to find the white Queen's mother.

But while he was journeying he passed through a town, where every one

of the inhabitants looked so sad that he could not help asking what

was the matter. They told him it was because the King's only daughter

refused to marry; so when her father died there would be no heir to

the throne. They greatly feared she must be out of her mind, for

though every good-looking young man in the kingdom had been shown to

her, she declared she would only marry one who was the son of seven

mothers, and of course no one had ever heard of such a thing. Still

the King, in despair, had ordered every man who entered the city gates

to be led before the Princess in case she might relent. So, much to

the lad's impatience, for he was in an immense hurry to find his

mothers' eyes, he was dragged into the presence-chamber.

No sooner did the Princess catch sight of him than she blushed, and,

turning to the King, said, 'Dear father, this is my choice!'

Never were such rejoicings as these few words produced. The

inhabitants nearly went wild with joy, but the son of seven mothers

said he would not marry the Princess unless they first let him recover

his mothers' eyes. Now when the beautiful bride heard his story, she

asked to see the potsherd, for she was very learned and clever; so

much so that on seeing the treacherous words, she said nothing, but

taking another similarly-shaped bit of potsherd, wrote on it these

words--'Take care of this lad, give him all he desires,' and returned

it to the son of seven mothers, who, none the wiser, set off on his

quest.

Ere long, he arrived at the hovel in the ravine, where the white

witch's mother, a hideous old creature, grumbled dreadfully on reading

the message, especially when the lad asked for the necklace of eyes.

Nevertheless she took it off, and gave it him, saying,' There are only

thirteen of 'em now, for I ate one last week, when I was hungry.'

The lad, however, was only too glad to get any at all, so he hurried

home as fast as he could to his seven mothers, and gave two eyes

apiece to the six elder Queens; but to the youngest he gave one,

saying, 'Dearest little mother!--I will be your other eye always!'

After this he set off to marry the Princess, as he had promised, but

when passing by the white Queen's palace he again saw some pigeons on

the roof. Drawing his bow, he shot one, and again it came fluttering

past the window. Then the white hind looked out, and lo! there was

the King's son alive and well.

She cried with hatred and disgust, but sending for the lad, asked him

how he had returned so soon, and when she heard how he had brought

home the thirteen eyes, and given them to the seven blind Queens, she

could hardly restrain her rage. Nevertheless she pretended to be

charmed with his success, and told him that if he would give her this

pigeon also, she would reward him with the Jôgi's wonderful

cow, whose milk flows all day long, and makes a pond as big as a

kingdom. The lad, nothing loath, gave her the pigeon; whereupon, as

before, she bade him go ask her mother for the cow, and gave him a

potsherd whereon was written--'Kill this lad without fail, and

sprinkle his blood like water!'

But on the way, the son of seven mothers looked in on the Princess,

just to tell her how he came to be delayed, and she, after reading the

message on the potsherd, gave him another in its stead; so that when

the lad reached the old hag's hut and asked her for the Jôgi's

cow, she could not refuse, but told the boy how to find it; and,

bidding him of all things not to be afraid of the eighteen thousand

demons who kept watch and ward over the treasure, told him to be off

before she became too angry at her daughter's foolishness in thus

giving away so many good things.

Then the lad did as he had been told bravely. He journeyed on and on

till he came to a milk-white pond, guarded by the eighteen thousand

demons. They were really frightful to behold, but, plucking up

courage, he whistled a tune as he walked through them, looking neither

to the right nor the left. By and by he came upon the Jôgi's cow,

tall, white, and beautiful, while the Jôgi himself, who was king of

all the demons, sat milking her day and night, and the milk streamed

from her udder, filling the milk-white tank.

The Jôgi, seeing the lad, called out fiercely, 'What do you want

here?'

Then the lad answered, according to the old hag's bidding, 'I want

your skin, for King Indra is making a new kettledrum, and says your

skin is nice and tough.'

Upon this the Jôgi began to shiver and shake (for no Jinn or Jôgi

dares disobey King Indra's command), and, falling at the lad's feet,

cried, 'If you will spare me I will give you anything I possess, even

my beautiful white cow!'

To this, the son of seven mothers, after a little pretended

hesitation, agreed, saying that after all it would not be difficult to

find a nice tough skin like the Jôgi's elsewhere; so, driving the

wonderful cow before him, he set off homewards. The seven Queens were

delighted to possess so marvellous an animal, and though they toiled

from morning till night making curds and whey, besides selling milk to

the confectioners, they could not use half the cow gave, and became

richer and richer day by day.

Seeing them so comfortably off, the son of seven mothers started with

a light heart to marry the Princess; but when passing the white hind's

palace he could not resist sending a bolt at some pigeons which were

cooing on the parapet, and for the third time one fell dead just

beneath the window where the white Queen was sitting. Looking out,

she saw the lad hale and hearty standing before her, and grew whiter

than ever with rage and spite.

She sent for him to ask how he had returned so soon, and when she

heard how kindly her mother had received him, she very nearly had a

fit; however, she dissembled her feelings as well as she could, and,

smiling sweetly, said she was glad to have been able to fulfil her

promise, and that if he would give her this third pigeon, she would do

yet more for him than she had done before, by giving him the

million-fold rice, which ripens in one night.

The lad was of course delighted at the very idea, and, giving up the

pigeon, set off on his quest, armed as before with a potsherd, on

which was written, 'Do not fail this time. Kill the lad, and sprinkle

his blood like water!'

But when he looked in on his Princess, just to prevent her becoming

anxious about him, she asked to see the potsherd as usual, and

substituted another, on which was written, 'Yet again give this lad

all he requires, for his blood shall be as your blood!'

Now when the old hag saw this, and heard how the lad wanted the

million-fold rice which ripens in a single night, she fell into the

most furious rage, but being terribly afraid of her daughter, she

controlled herself, and bade the boy go and find the field guarded by

eighteen millions of demons, warning him on no account to look back

after having plucked the tallest spike of rice, which grew in the

centre.

So the son of seven mothers set off, and soon came to the field where,

guarded by eighteen millions of demons, the million-fold rice grew.

He walked on bravely, looking neither to the right nor left, till he

reached the centre and plucked the tallest ear; but as he turned

homewards a thousand sweet voices rose behind him, crying in tenderest

accents, 'Pluck me too! oh, please pluck me too!' He looked back, and

lo! there was nothing left of him but a little heap of ashes!

Now as time passed by and the lad did not return, the old hag grew

uneasy, remembering the message 'his blood shall be as your blood'; so

she set off to see what had happened.

Soon she came to the heap of ashes, and knowing by her arts what it

was, she took a little water, and kneading the ashes into a paste,

formed it into the likeness of a man; then, putting a drop of blood

from her little finger into its mouth, she blew on it, and instantly

the son of seven mothers started up as well as ever.

'Don't you disobey orders again!' grumbled the old hag, 'or next time

I'll leave you alone. Now be off, before I repent of my kindness!'

So the son of seven mothers returned joyfully to the seven Queens,

who, by the aid of the million-fold rice, soon became the richest

people in the kingdom. Then they celebrated their son's marriage to

the clever Princess with all imaginable pomp; but the bride was so

clever, she would not rest until she had made known her husband to his

father, and punished the wicked white witch. So she made her husband

build a palace exactly like the one in which the seven Queens had

lived, and in which the white witch now dwelt in splendour. Then,

when all was prepared, she bade her husband give a grand feast to the

King. Now the King had heard much of the mysterious son of seven

mothers, and his marvellous wealth, so he gladly accepted the

invitation; but what was his astonishment when on entering the palace

he found it was a facsimile of his own in every particular! And when

his host, richly attired, led him straight to the private hall, where

on royal thrones sat the seven Queens, dressed as he had last seen

them, he was speechless with surprise, until the Princess, coming

forward, threw herself at his feet, and told him the whole story.

Then the King awoke from his enchantment, and his anger rose against

the wicked white hind who had bewitched him so long, until he could

not contain himself. So she was put to death, and her grave ploughed

over, and after that the seven Queens returned to their own splendid

palace, and everybody lived happily.