At last they asked him who he was. "I am the husband of your youngest
princess," he answered.
"No, no, indeed you are not," they said; "for he is a poor, common-
looking, and ugly man."
"But I am he," answered the prince; only no one would believe him.
"Tell us the truth," said the servants; "who are you?"
"Perhaps you cannot recognise me," said the young prince, "but call the
youngest princess here. I wish to speak to her." The servants called
her, and she came. "That man is not my husband," she said at once. "My
husband is not nearly as handsome as that man. This must be a prince
from another country."
Then she said to him, "Who are you? Why do you say you are my husband?"
"Because I am your husband. I am telling you the truth," answered the
young prince.
"No you are not, you are not telling me the truth," said the little
princess. "My husband is not a handsome man like you. I married a very
poor, common-looking man."
"That is true," he answered, "but nevertheless I am your husband. I was
the grain merchant's servant; and one hot night I went into your
father's garden and sang, and you heard me, and came and asked me who I
was and where I came from, and I would not answer you. And the same
thing happened the next night, and the next, and on the fourth I told
you I was a very poor man, and had come from my country to seek service
in yours, and that I was the grain merchant's servant. Then you told
your father you wished to marry, but must choose your own husband; and
when all the Kings and Rajas were seated in your father's garden, you
sat on an elephant and went round and looked at them all; and then
twice hung your gold necklace round my neck, and chose me. See, here is
your necklace, and here are the ring and the handkerchief you gave me
on our wedding day."
Then she believed him, and was very glad that her husband was such a
beautiful young prince. "What a strange man you are!" she said to him.
"Till now you have been poor, and ugly, and common-looking. Now you are
beautiful and look like a prince; I never saw such a handsome man as
you are before; and yet I know you must be my husband." Then she
worshipped God and thanked him for letting her have such a husband. "I
have," she said, "a beautiful husband. There is no one like him in this
country. He has a moon on his forehead and a star on his chin." Then
she took him into the palace, and showed him to her father and mother
and to every one. They all said they had never seen any one like him,
and were all very happy. And the young prince lived as before in the
King's palace with his wife, and Katar lived in the King's stables.
One day, when the King and his seven sons-in-law were in his court-
house, and it was full of people, the young prince said to him, "There
are six thieves here in your court-house." "Six thieves!" said the
King. "Where are they? Show them to me." "There they are," said the
young prince, pointing to his six brothers-in-law. The King and every
one else in the court-house were very much astonished, and would not
believe the young prince. "Take off their coats," he said, "and then
you will see for yourselves that each of them has the mark of a thief
on his back." So their coats were taken off the six princes, and the
King and everybody in the court-house saw the mark of the red-hot pice.
The six princes were very much ashamed, but the young prince was very
glad. He had not forgotten how his brothers-in-law had laughed at him
and mocked him when he seemed a poor, common man.
Now, when Katar was still in the jungle, before the prince was married,
he had told the boy the whole story of his birth, and all that had
happened to him and his mother. "When you are married," he said to him,
"I will take you back to your father's country." So two months after
the young prince had revenged himself on his brothers-in-law, Katar
said to him, "It is time for you to return to your father. Get the King
to let you go to your own country, and I will tell you what to do when
we get there."
The prince always did what his horse told him to do; so he went to his
wife and said to her, "I wish very much to go to my own country to see
my father and mother." "Very well," said his wife; "I will tell my
father and mother, and ask them to let us go." Then she went to them,
and told them, and they consented to let her and her husband leave
them. The King gave his daughter and the young prince a great many
horses, and elephants, and all sorts of presents, and also a great many
sepoys to guard them. In this grand state they travelled to the
prince's country, which was not a great many miles off. When they
reached it they pitched their tents on the same plain in which the
prince had been left in his box by the nurse, where Shankar and Suri
had swallowed him so often.
When the King, his father, the gardener's daughter's husband, saw the
prince's camp, he was very much alarmed, and thought a great King had
come to make war on him. He sent one of his servants, therefore, to ask
whose camp it was. The young prince then wrote him a letter, in which
he said, "You are a great King. Do not fear me. I am not come to make
war on you. I am as if I were your son. I am a prince who has come to
see your country and to speak with you. I wish to give you a grand
feast, to which every one in your country must come—men and women, old
and young, rich and poor, of all castes; all the children, fakirs, and
sepoys. You must bring them all here to me for a week, and I will feast
them all."
The King was delighted with this letter, and ordered all the men,
women, and children of all castes, fakirs, and sepoys, in his country
to go to the prince's camp to a grand feast the prince would give them.
So they all came, and the King brought his four wives too. All came, at
least all but the gardener's daughter. No one had told her to go to the
feast, for no one had thought of her.
When all the people were assembled, the prince saw his mother was not
there, and he asked the King, "Has every one in your country come to my
feast?"
"Yes, every one," said the King.
"Are you sure of that?" asked the prince.
"Quite sure," answered the King.
"I am sure one woman has not come," said the prince. "She is your
gardener's daughter, who was once your wife and is now a servant in
your palace."
"True," said the King, "I had forgotten her." Then the prince told his
servants to take his finest palanquin and to fetch the gardener's
daughter. They were to bathe her, dress her in beautiful clothes and
handsome jewels, and then bring her to him in the palanquin.
While the servants were bringing the gardener's daughter, the King
thought how handsome the young prince was; and he noticed particularly
the moon on his forehead and the star on his chin, and he wondered in
what country the young prince was born.
And now the palanquin arrived bringing the gardener's daughter, and the
young prince went himself and took her out of it, and brought her into
the tent. He made her a great many salaams. The four wicked wives
looked on and were very much surprised and very angry. They remembered
that, when they arrived, the prince had made them no salaams, and since
then had not taken the least notice of them; whereas he could not do
enough for the gardener's daughter, and seemed very glad to see her.
When they were all at dinner, the prince again made the gardener's
daughter a great many salaams, and gave her food from all the nicest
dishes. She wondered at his kindness to her, and thought, "Who is this
handsome prince, with a moon on his forehead and a star on his chin? I
never saw any one so beautiful. What country does he come from?"
Two or three days were thus passed in feasting, and all that time the
King and his people were talking about the prince's beauty, and
wondering who he was.
One day the prince asked the King if he had any children. "None," he
answered.
"Do you know who I am?" asked the prince.
"No," said the King. "Tell me who you are."
"I am your son," answered the prince, "and the gardener's daughter is
my mother."
The King shook his head sadly. "How can you be my son," he said, "when
I have never had any children?"
"But I am your son," answered the prince. "Your four wicked Queens told
you the gardener's daughter had given you a stone and not a son; but it
was they who put the stone in my little bed, and then they tried to
kill me."
The King did not believe him. "I wish you were my son," he said; "but as
I never had a child, you cannot be my son." "Do you remember your dog
Shankar, and how you had him killed? And do you remember your cow Suri,
and how you had her killed too? Your wives made you kill them because
of me. And," he said, taking the King to Katar, "do you know whose
horse that is?"
The King looked at Katar, and then said, "That is my horse, Katar."
"Yes," said the prince. "Do you not remember how he rushed past you out
of his stable with me on his back?" Then Katar told the King the prince
was really his son, and told him all the story of his birth, and of his
life up to that moment; and when the King found the beautiful prince
was indeed his son, he was so glad, so glad. He put his arms round him
and kissed him and cried for joy.
"Now," said the King, "you must come with me to my palace, and live
with me always."
"No," said the prince, "that I cannot do. I cannot go to your palace. I
only came here to fetch my mother; and now that I have found her, I
will take her with me to my father-in-law's palace. I have married a
King's daughter, and we live with her father."
"But now that I have found you, I cannot let you go," said his father.
You and your wife must come and live with your mother and me in my
palace."
"That we will never do," said the prince, "unless you will kill your
four wicked Queens with your own hand. If you will do that, we will
come and live with you."
So the King killed his Queens, and then he and his wife, the gardener's
daughter, and the prince and his wife, all went to live in the King's
palace, and lived there happily together for ever after; and the King
thanked God for giving him such a beautiful son, and for ridding him of
his four wicked wives.
Katar did not return to the fairies' country, but stayed always with
the young prince, and never left him.
There was once upon a time a King who had no children. Now this King
went and laid him down to rest at a place where four roads met, so that
every one who passed had to step over him.
At last a Fakir came along, and he said to the King, "Man, why are you
lying here?"
He replied, "Fakir, a thousand men have come and passed by; you pass on
too."
But the Fakir said, "Who are you, man?"
The King replied, "I am a King, Fakir. Of goods and gold I have no
lack, but I have lived long and have no children. So I have come here,
and have laid me down at the cross-roads. My sins and offences have
been very many, so I have come and am lying here that men may pass over
me, and perchance my sins may be forgiven me, and God may be merciful,
and I may have a son."
The Fakir answered him, "Oh King! If you have children, what will you
give me?"
"Whatever you ask, Fakir," answered the King. The Fakir said, "Of goods
and gold I have no lack, but I will say a prayer for you, and you will
have two sons; one of those sons will be mine."
Then he took out two sweetmeats and handed them to the King, and said,
"King! take these two sweetmeats and give them to your wives; give them
to the wives you love best."
The King took the sweetmeats and put them in his bosom.
Then the Fakir said, "King! in a year I will return, and of the two
sons who will be born to you one is mine and one yours."
The King said, "Well, I agree."
Then the Fakir went on his way, and the King came home and gave one
sweetmeat to each of his two wives. After some time two sons were born
to the King. Then what did the King do but place those two sons in an
underground room, which he had built in the earth.
Some time passed, and one day the Fakir appeared, and said, "King!
bring me that son of yours!"
What did the King do but bring two slave-girls' sons and present them
to the Fakir. While the Fakir was sitting there the King's sons were
sitting down below in their cellar eating their food. Just then a
hungry ant had carried away a grain of rice from their food, and was
going along with it to her children. Another stronger ant came up and
attacked her in order to get this grain of rice. The first ant said, "O
ant, why do you drag this away from me? I have long been lame in my
feet, and I have got just one grain, and am carrying it to my children.
The King's sons are sitting in the cellar eating their food; you go and
fetch a grain from there; why should you take mine from me?" On this
the second ant let go and did not rob the first, but went off to where
the King's sons were eating their food.
On hearing this the Fakir said, "King! these are not your sons; go and
bring those children who are eating their food in the cellar."
Then the King went and brought his own sons. The Fakir chose the eldest
son and took him away, and set off with him on his journey, When he got
home he told the King's son to go out to gather fuel.
So the King's son went out to gather cow-dung, and when he had
collected some he brought it in.
Then the Fakir looked at the King's son and put on a great pot, and
said, "Come round here, my pupil."
But the King's son said, "Master first, and pupil after."
The Fakir told him to come once, he told him twice, he told him three
times, and each time the King's son answered, "Master first, and pupil
after."
Then the Fakir made a dash at the King's son, thinking to catch him and
throw him into the caldron. There were about a hundred gallons of oil
in this caldron, and the fire was burning beneath it. Then the King's
son, lifting the Fakir, gave him a jerk and threw him into the caldron,
and he was burnt, and became roast meat. He then saw a key of the
Fakir's lying there; he took this key and opened the door of the
Fakir's house. Now many men were locked up in this house; two horses
were standing there in a hut of the Fakir's; two greyhounds were tied
up there; two simurgs were imprisoned, and two tigers also stood there.
So the King's son let all the creatures go, and took them out of the
house, and they all returned thanks to God. Next he let out all the men
who were in prison. He took away with him the two horses, and he took
away the two tigers, and he took away the two hounds, and he took away
the two simurgs, and with them he set out for another country.