Tibetan Folk Tales by A. L. Shelton (best thriller novels of all time .txt) 📕

The tiger began to think to himself, “He must be very strong. Yesterday he killed and ate a tiger, and now he has jumped farther than I did over the river. Guess I’d better slip away before he eats me.” Then he sidled away a little piece, quickly turned and began to run away as fast as he could, up the mountain.

He met a fox coming down who asked, “What’s the matter, why are you running away so fast?”

“Say,” the old tiger said, “I met the king of all the frogs, who is very strong. Why, he has been eating tigers and he jumped across the river and landed farther up the bank than I did.”

The fox laughed at him and said, “What, are you running away from that little frog? He is nothing at all. I am only a little fox, but I could put my foot on him and kill him.”

The tiger answered, “I know what this frog can do, but if you think you can kill him, I’ll go back with you. I am afraid you will get frightened and run away, however, so we must tie our tails together.”

So they tied their tails fast in a lot of knots and went down to see the frog, who still sat on his piece of sod, looking as important as he could. He saw them coming and called out to the fox, “You’re a great fox. You haven’t paid your toll to the king to-day nor brought any meat either. Is that a dog you’ve got tied to your tail and are you bringing him for my dinner?”

Then the tiger was frightened, for he thought the fox was taking him to the king to be eaten. So he turned and ran and ran as fast as he could go, dragging the poor fox with him, and if they are not dead, they are still running to-day.

***

The Cony Who Got into Bad Company

If you are without kindness, you will meet no kindness in return.

Tibetan Proverb.

ONCE upon a time, a long, long time ago, when the world was young and new and the mountain tops were all peaks and the garden of Eden had not been pushed up towards the sky by the big high mountains of Central Tibet, men and animals understood each other. In a desert place, away among the mountains, was a little hut of mud and stone, and in this little hut with its dirt floor dwelt an old Lama. His house furnishings were very meager. There was a small piece of beaten felt upon which he slept at night and sat on cross-legged most of the day. He had no clothing and no covering at night except the one gown that he wore. He had some baskets of grain and sacks of tsamba, an earthen-ware pot for tea, and a small wooden bowl from which he ate. He dwelt in this house away from people that he might meditate and pray a good deal, and so acquire holiness. Every day he sat pondering the questions of life, and thinking about the little animals as well.

There was a cony by the name of Susha and a rat by the name of Mukjong. These two were great friends and cronies, and both pretended to be friends with the old Lama, but at night when he was asleep for a little while, they would sneak into his hut and steal all the grain they could find. One day the Lama decided that these two were not really his friends, but were just pretending to be, and that they came to see him every day to discover what he had in the hut and then plan to come back at night and steal it. He said, “I’ll just set a trap and catch them.” So he fixed one of his round baskets into a little drop trap and that night caught them both. Next morning he found them, cut off their whiskers, ears and tails and turned them loose. They were very angry and said to him, “We belong to the Aberrang, and that is a class that doesn’t lie, nor steal nor do any bad or dishonest thing. And you know we are your friends and have not stolen your stuff at all. We just wanted to see what you had in your basket and now see what you’ve done to us. Well, we’re going to our own kings and ask them to send an army to take your grain for sure. So you better make a lot of traps to catch us all when we come.”

The rat, very much ashamed of his condition, went to the king and showed him what had been done to him, telling him that he was innocent and asking that his king organize an army and attack the old Lama as a punishment for what had been done to him. The king, who was an old man, agreed to do so at once if the king of the conies would aid him. But when he asked the king of the conies he refused to help, as he knew the rat had been guilty. After the delegation had gone, the king of the conies called the cony to him, who came, looking very much ashamed, and told what had happened to him. The king said, “You only got what you deserved. When you are found in bad company you are judged as guilty as they. The rats are thieves and robbers and have been since the beginning of time, and when you are found with that kind of people you are thought to be just as bad as they. The conies are not a thieving folk, as you well know, and my advice to you is never to be found in the company of the rat or his kind of people again.”

***

The Story of the Donkey and the Rock (A Black Tent Story)

Between iron and brass there is union if the welding is skillful.

Tibetan Proverb.

A VERY long time ago, somewhere in that far away land of Tibet, away up so high that it seems a little nearer the sky than any other land, in one corner was a country governed by a very just man. He was noted in all parts of the dominion for his fair judgment in all cases. In the city where this good king lived and had his home, dwelt two poor men. Both were very good, did the very best they could every day and each had an old mother to support.

One day one of the men started to a village high up in the mountains carrying a jar of oil, selling it as he went. Walking along, he grew very tired and set his jar of oil on a rock by the roadside while he sat down to rest a while. As he sat there, his neighbor came down the mountain driving his donkey in front of him. There were two big loads of wood stacked one on each side of the little donkey, which almost covered him. He didn’t happen to see the jar, so came too near and knocked it off, breaking it, and spilling all the oil.

The man who owned the oil was very angry indeed, and the man who owned the donkey said it wasn’t he who had done the damage, but the donkey. So they quarreled and quarreled and kept on quarreling. The man who owned the oil said he couldn’t afford to lose it, as it was all he had in the world to sell for food for his mother and himself, and it couldn’t have been his fault the jar was broken. They both went to the king who questioned them very carefully about the matter and finally said he couldn’t see that either one was to blame. They were both good men, took good care of their old mothers and were honest in all their dealings, and so far as he could see no one was at fault but the donkey and the rock, and he would judge them. So the little donkey was chained with chains around his legs and around his neck and led into prison, while five of the king’s men were sent out for the rock. As soon as they brought it in he ordered it wrapped with chains and tied outside the prison door to a post. By this time the news of this strange case and the queer doings of the king had spread throughout the city. When the people heard their great king was having a trial about a donkey and a rock they thought he had surely gone mad. The next morning the king announced by his runners through the city that the case would be tried. The idea that a donkey and a rock could have a trial in court was more than the people could understand, but early next day everybody in the city was at the courtyard to see the result of the trial. When the time arrived the judge came, took his seat, instructed the door-keepers to shut and lock all the gates, thus locking in everybody, and then proceeded to pronounce his judgment on the case.

“As you very well know, there is no law by which a donkey and a rock can be judged. Why have you all come to see so absurd a thing? Now, because of your curiosity in the matter, every one of you shall pay a half-cent before he gets out.”

The people, looking much ashamed, and glad to get out, handed over this bit of money and slipped through the gate. The cash taken in this way was given to the man who had lost his oil, so he was happy, the debt was paid, and the court closed.

***

Do not brag of your family—without fame they may be—the strain on the string of an arrow soon makes it useless. The horse traveling fast comes to the end of his strength very quickly.—Tibetan Proverb.

ONCE upon a time, away among the mountains, were located two little villages. One was called Jangdo and the other Jangmeh. One head-man ruled over these two villages. He was a very wise man, but had an only son who was foolish, with a wife that was very wise. After a while the old man died, and his place had to be filled by the son, who was an idiot. A river ran alongside of the village and a takin died and fell into the water. The upper village claimed it and the lower village claimed it, so both villages came with the request that it belonged to them.

His wife said to him, “Now you do not know to which place this animal belongs, but you must go and decide about it. Decide in this way: say that the upper half above the ribs belongs to the upper village and the lower part belongs to the lower village and the middle part is yours because you are a middle man.” He did as his wife said, and when the people heard this decision they thought, “Why, we have always thought this man to be foolish, but he is a very wise man,” and his fame spread abroad.

After two or three months had passed, a leopard died and floated down the river, stopping in the same place as the takin, and the villagers quarreled again. Only this time they did not want it, so the upper village said, It is yours, and the lower village said, It is yours. They finally took it to the