The Orange Fairy Book (3 page)

As soon as the king left him, Gopani-Kufa again took Zengi-mizi, out of
his basket. 'Zengi-mizi,' he said, 'the king seems loth to grant my
request for the Mirror—is there not some other thing of equal value
for which I might ask?'

And the wasp answered: 'There is nothing in the world, O Gopani-Kufa,
which is of such value as this Mirror, for it is a Wishing Mirror, and
accomplishes the desires of him who owns it. If the king hesitates, go
to him the next day, and the day after, and in the end he will bestow
the Mirror upon you, for you saved his life.'

And it was even so. For three days Gopani- Kufa returned the same
answer to the king, and, at last, with tears in his eyes, Insato gave
him the Mirror, which was of polished iron, saying: 'Take Sipao, then,
O Gopani- Kufa, and may thy wishes come true. Go back now to thine own
country; Sipao will show you the way.'

Gopani-Kufa was greatly rejoiced, and, taking farewell of the king,
said to the Mirror:

'Sipao, Sipao, I wish to be back upon the Earth again!'

Instantly he found himself standing upon the upper earth; but, not
knowing the spot, he said again to the Mirror:

'Sipao, Sipao, I want the path to my own kraal!'

And behold! right before him lay the path!

When he arrived home he found his wife and daughter mourning for him,
for they thought that he had been eaten by lions; but he comforted
them, saying that while following a wounded antelope he had missed his
way and had wandered for a long time before he had found the path again.

That night he asked Zengi-mizi, in whom sat the spirit of his father,
what he had better ask Sipao for next?

'Biz-z-z,' said the wasp, 'would you not like to be as great a chief as
Insato?'

And Gopani-Kufa smiled, and took the Mirror and said to it:

'Sipao, Sipao, I want a town as great as that of Insato, the King of
Pita; and I wish to be chief over it!'

Then all along the banks of the Zambesi river, which flowed near by,
sprang up streets of stone buildings, and their roofs shone with gold
and burnished iron like those in Pita; and in the streets men and women
were walking, and young boys were driving out the sheep and cattle to
pasture; and from the river came shouts and laughter from the young men
and maidens who had launched their canoes and were fishing. And when
the people of the new town beheld Gopani-Kufa they rejoiced greatly and
hailed him as chief.

Gopani-Kufa was now as powerful as Insato the King of the Reptiles had
been, and he and his family moved into the palace that stood high above
the other buildings right in the middle of the town. His wife was too
astonished at all these wonders to ask any questions, but his daughter
Shasasa kept begging him to tell her how he had suddenly become so
great; so at last he revealed the whole secret, and even entrusted
Sipao the Mirror to her care, saying:

'It will be safer with you, my daughter, for you dwell apart; whereas
men come to consult me on affairs of state, and the Mirror might be
stolen.'

Then Shasasa took the Magic Mirror and hid it beneath her pillow, and
after that for many years Gopani-Kufa ruled his people both well and
wisely, so that all men loved him, and never once did he need to ask
Sipao to grant him a wish.

Now it happened that, after many years, when the hair of Gopani-Kufa
was turning grey with age, there came white men to that country. Up
the Zambesi they came, and they fought long and fiercely with
Gopani-Kufa; but, because of the power of the Magic Mirror, he beat
them, and they fled to the sea-coast. Chief among them was one Rei, a
man of much cunning, who sought to discover whence sprang Gopani-Kufa's
power. So one day he called to him a trusty servant named Butou, and
said: 'Go you to the town and find out for me what is the secret of its
greatness.'

And Butou, dressing himself in rags, set out, and when he came to
Gopani-Kufa's town he asked for the chief; and the people took him into
the presence of Gopani-Kufa. When the white man saw him he humbled
himself, and said: 'O Chief! take pity on me, for I have no home! When
Rei marched against you I alone stood apart, for I knew that all the
strength of the Zambesi lay in your hands, and because I would not
fight against you he turned me forth into the forest to starve!'

And Gopani-Kufa believed the white man's story, and he took him in and
feasted him, and gave him a house.

In this way the end came. For the heart of Shasasa, the daughter of
Gopani-Kufa, went forth to Butou the traitor, and from her he learnt
the secret of the Magic Mirror. One night, when all the town slept, he
felt beneath her pillow and, finding the Mirror, he stole it and fled
back with it to Rei, the chief of the white men.

So it befell that, one day, as Gopani-Kufa was gazing up at the river
from a window of the palace he again saw the war-canoes of the white
men; and at the sight his spirit misgave him.

'Shasasa! my daughter!' he cried wildly, 'go fetch me the mirror, for
the white men are at hand.'

'Woe is me, my father!' she sobbed. 'The Mirror is gone! For I loved
Butou the traitor, and he has stolen Sipao from me!'

Then Gopani-Kufa calmed himself, and drew out Zengi-mizi from its rush
basket.

'O spirit of my father!' he said, 'what now shall I do?'

'O Gopani-Kufa!' hummed the wasp, 'there is nothing now that can be
done, for the words of the antelope which you slew are being fulfilled.'

'Alas! I am an old man—I had forgotten!' cried the chief. 'The words
of the antelope were true words—my reward shall be my undoing—they
are being fulfilled!'

Then the white men fell upon the people of Gopani-Kufa and slew them
together with the chief and his daughter Shasasa; and since then all
the power of the Earth has rested in the hands of the white men, for
they have in their possession Sipao, the Magic Mirror.

Once upon a time there was king who, one day out hunting, came upon a
fakeer in a lonely place in the mountains. The fakeer was seated on a
little old bedstead reading the Koran, with his patched cloak thrown
over his shoulders.

The king asked him what he was reading; and he said he was reading
about Paradise, and praying that he might be worthy to enter there.
Then they began to talk, and, by-and- bye, the king asked the fakeer if
he could show him a glimpse of Paradise, for he found it very difficult
to believe in what he could not see. The fakeer replied that he was
asking a very difficult, and perhaps a very dangerous, thing; but that
he would pray for him, and perhaps he might be able to do it; only he
warned the king both against the dangers of his unbelief, and against
the curiosity which prompted him to ask this thing. However, the king
was not to be turned from his purpose, and he promised the fakeer
always to provided him with food, if he, in return, would pray for him.
To this the fakeer agreed, and so they parted.

Time went on, and the king always sent the old fakeer his food
according to his promise; but, whenever he sent to ask him when he was
going to show him Paradise, the fakeer always replied: 'Not yet, not
yet!'

After a year or two had passed by, the king heard one day that the
fakeer was very ill— indeed, he was believed to be dying. Instantly
he hurried off himself, and found that it was really true, and that the
fakeer was even then breathing his last. There and then the king
besought him to remember his promise, and to show him a glimpse of
Paradise. The dying fakeer replied that if the king would come to his
funeral, and, when the grave was filled in, and everyone else was gone
away, he would come and lay his hand upon the grave, he would keep his
word, and show him a glimpse of Paradise. At the same time he implored
the king not to do this thing, but to be content to see Paradise when
God called him there. Still the king's curiosity was so aroused that
he would not give way.

Accordingly, after the fakeer was dead, and had been buried, he stayed
behind when all the rest went away; and then, when he was quite alone,
he stepped forward, and laid his hand upon the grave! Instantly the
ground opened, and the astonished king, peeping in, saw a flight of
rough steps, and, at the bottom of them, the fakeer sitting, just as he
used to sit, on his rickety bedstead, reading the Koran!

At first the king was so surprised and frightened that he could only
stare; but the fakeer beckoned to him to come down, so, mustering up
his courage, he boldly stepped down into the grave.

The fakeer rose, and, making a sign to the king to follow, walked a few
paces along a dark passage. Then he stopped, turned solemnly to his
companion, and, with a movement of his hand, drew aside as it were a
heavy curtain, and revealed—what? No one knows what was there shown
to the king, nor did he ever tell anyone; but, when the fakeer at
length dropped the curtain, and the king turned to leave the place, he
had had his glimpse of Paradise! Trembling in every limb, he staggered
back along the passage, and stumbled up the steps out of the tomb into
the fresh air again.

The dawn was breaking. It seemed odd to the king that he had been so
long in the grave. It appeared but a few minutes ago that he had
descended, passed along a few steps to the place where he had peeped
beyond the veil, and returned again after perhaps five minutes of that
wonderful view! And what WAS it he had seen? He racked his brains to
remember, but he could not call to mind a single thing! How curious
everything looked too! Why, his own city, which by now he was
entering, seemed changed and strange to him! The sun was already up
when he turned into the palace gate and entered the public durbar hall.
It was full; and there upon the throne sat another king! The poor
king, all bewildered, sat down and stared about him. Presently a
chamberlain came across and asked him why he sat unbidden in the king's
presence. 'But I am the king!' he cried.

'What king?' said the chamberlain.

'The true king of this country,' said he indignantly.

Then the chamberlain went away, and spoke to the king who sat on the
throne, and the old king heard words like 'mad,' 'age,' 'compassion.'
Then the king on the throne called him to come forward, and, as he
went, he caught sight of himself reflected in the polished steel shield
of the bodyguard, and started back in horror! He was old, decrepit,
dirty, and ragged! His long white beard and locks were unkempt, and
straggled all over his chest and shoulders. Only one sign of royalty
remained to him, and that was the signet ring upon his right hand. He
dragged it off with shaking fingers and held it up to the king.

'Tell me who I am,' he cried; 'there is my signet, who once sat where
you sit—even yesterday!'

The king looked at him compassionately, and examined the signet with
curiosity. Then he commanded, and they brought out dusty records and
archives of the kingdom, and old coins of previous reigns, and compared
them faithfully. At last the king turned to the old man, and said:
'Old man, such a king as this whose signet thou hast, reigned seven
hundred years ago; but he is said to have disappeared, none know
whither; where got you the ring?'

Then the old man smote his breast, and cried out with a loud
lamentation; for he understood that he, who was not content to wait
patiently to see the Paradise of the faithful, had been judged already.
And he turned and left the hall without a word, and went into the
jungle, where he lived for twenty-five years a life of prayer and
meditations, until at last the Angel of Death came to him, and
mercifully released him, purged and purified through his punishment.

(A Pathan story told to Major Campbell.)

Far away in a hot country, where the forests are very thick and dark,
and the rivers very swift and strong, there once lived a strange pair
of friends. Now one of the friends was a big white rabbit named Isuro,
and the other was a tall baboon called Gudu, and so fond were they of
each other that they were seldom seen apart.

One day, when the sun was hotter even than usual, the rabbit awoke from
his midday sleep, and saw Gudu the baboon standing beside him.

'Get up,' said Gudu; 'I am going courting, and you must come with me.
So put some food in a bag, and sling it round your neck, for we may not
be able to find anything to eat for a long while.'

Then the rabbit rubbed his eyes, and gathered a store of fresh green
things from under the bushes, and told Gudu that he was ready for the
journey.

They went on quite happily for some distance, and at last they came to
a river with rocks scattered here and there across the stream.

'We can never jump those wide spaces if we are burdened with food,'
said Gudu, 'we must throw it into the river, unless we wish to fall in
ourselves.' And stooping down, unseen by Isuro, who was in front of
him, Gudu picked up a big stone, and threw it into the water with a
loud splash.

'It is your turn now,' he cried to Isuro. And with a heavy sigh, the
rabbit unfastened his bag of food, which fell into the river.

The road on the other side led down an avenue of trees, and before they
had gone very far Gudu opened the bag that lay hidden in the thick hair
about his neck, and began to eat some delicious-looking fruit.

'Where did you get that from?' asked Isuro enviously.

'Oh, I found after all that I could get across the rocks quite easily,
so it seemed a pity not to keep my bag,' answered Gudu.

'Well, as you tricked me into throwing away mine, you ought to let me
share with you,' said Isuro. But Gudu pretended not to hear him, and
strode along the path.

By-and-bye they entered a wood, and right in front of them was a tree
so laden with fruit that its branches swept the ground. And some of
the fruit was still green, and some yellow. The rabbit hopped forward
with joy, for he was very hungry; but Gudu said to him: 'Pluck the
green fruit, you will find it much the best. I will leave it all for
you, as you have had no dinner, and take the yellow for myself.' So
the rabbit took one of the green oranges and began to bite it, but its
skin was so hard that he could hardly get his teeth through the rind.