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

Now the moral is, “First, people shouldn’t be greedy when there is plenty for all (the fox wanted all the meat to eat for a year and tried to ruin the bow and got killed). Second, you mustn’t do what you aren’t fitted for (the elephant tried to do what the rabbit was doing and got killed). Then the four men begrudged the three and the three begrudged the four, so they all died.

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For men there is no hope—except to find happiness in the worship of the gods.

Tibetan Proverb.

ONCE upon a time in the city which was called Snalong lived a King whose name was Gendong. This King died and his son, Genchog, ruled in his stead. Among the people under him were two men, one a painter, who did exceedingly fine work, the other a carpenter, who was also of the best, and these two men were enemies. One day the painter came up to the new King and said, “Last night as I was ready to go to sleep, your father sent an angel out of Heaven to call me, and I went to Heaven with him to see what your father wanted and found him rich beyond belief. He gave me a letter to bring to you, and here it is; this letter is about that fine carpenter that dwells here in this city.”

The King opened the letter and read: “My son, I am here in Heaven, very wealthy, and I have all that I want except one thing, and that is I wish to build a Hl�k�ng, or temple, to the gods. But there are no good carpenters here and I want you to send me up the best one in the city. The painter who brings this to you knows all that I mean, for he has been here, and I’m sending the letter by him.”

So the King, Genchog, said, “This must be my father’s letter, for it is like him to want to build a temple to the gods, and I must see to his wishes at once.” So he called the carpenter before him and told him, “My father is in the dwelling of the gods, is very happy, but wants to build a Hl�k�ng and asked me to send you up to help him.”

The carpenter thought it queer that such a thing could occur, and said to himself, “It must be a scheme of that painter to get rid of me. I must think of some plan to get ahead of him.” Then he said, “L�so, [which means so-be-it] but how am I to get there?” Then the King called the painter and asked him how he was to send the carpenter to his father. The painter said, “This is the way. He is to bring all his tools that he will need up there, put them on a pile on the ground, sit on them, then wood must be piled around him and set on fire. As the smoke goes up, he can ride on it to Heaven.” “Well, that’s all right,” said the carpenter, “but I want to start from my own field.” The King gave him seven days to get ready. The carpenter went back home to his wife and said, “That painter has fixed a scheme to kill me, and I have only seven days to wait to be burned up, so we must work, for I want a tunnel dug from my house out to the field where the burning is to take place.” They got it done and put a few sticks over the opening where he could pile his tools and sit on them. The King, as soon as the seven days were up, ordered his people to bring several loads of wood, each to carry a load and a bowl of oil. So the wood was piled four square around the carpenter, the oil poured on and set on fire. While the fire was big the carpenter slipped down in the tunnel. The painter exclaimed, “Look, there he goes, riding the smoke to Heaven.” They all took it for the truth and went home.

Now, the carpenter had a dark secret room in his house and in there he stayed, washing himself every day and having some clothes made like the gods wear. At the end of three months, putting on these garments, and with skin as white as a lily, he came out of his house and went to see the King, bearing a letter to him from his father. Thus read the letter, “My dear son Genchog, it is said that you are a good ruler and rule your people wisely and well. Some three months ago you sent me a carpenter to build a Hl�k�ng, and he has finished it beautifully, and I want you to see that he has his reward on earth when he comes back. Now that the temple is done I want the best painter that you have in the kingdom to come and paint it for me. The same plan that you chose in sending the carpenter will do very well for sending the painter.” The carpenter told him how rich his father was and of his adventures in the sky. The King gave him great riches, making him happy for life. And after reading the letter the King sent for the painter and said, “The carpenter has just come down from Heaven, and has brought a letter asking you to come and paint the Hl�k�ng for my father.” The painter looking at the carpenter, with his skin so white, dressed in such strange clothes, with strings of coral about his neck, while he was still in his old clothes, thought perhaps that it was all right to go to Heaven that way, and half believed that the carpenter had really been there. So he got all of his things together; as he had been given seven days to prepare, the wood and oil had been brought with some things which the King wished to send to his father. When all was ready the carpenter said that they must make music for him as he ascended. So they got drums, horns and cymbals, and as the fire started began to beat loudly and made a great noise. As soon as the fire reached the painter he yelled that he was being burned up, but the noise was so great he couldn’t be heard, so he really did go to Heaven.

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The Story of Drashup and the Goddesses

In birth and death there is no fear, and in fear there is no doubt.

Tibetan Proverb.

ONCE, long ago, in this land of mystery, where men lived and loved and wondered and died, lived a man named Drashup, who was all alone in the world. All his kin were dead. He had no wife, no children, and he was very, very poor. One day he wandered away upon the mountain and lay down and went to sleep, grieving over his troubles.

Just at this time, in a small village far below at the foot of the mountain, a little girl was born. In the tree under which the man was lying asleep dwelt a goddess. All around him in the wood dwelt a number of goddesses, and it was their duty to cast lots and foretell this new little lady’s future: who her husband would be, when she was to be married, if she would live to be old, and the day of her death. The goddess who lived in the tree under which Drashup was sleeping invited all the others to come to her tree, as she had a guest asleep near her dwelling. So they came and began to forecast the lady’s future:—She would be only middle-aged when she would die from eating the shoulder of a sheep and the man asleep under the tree was to be her husband.

The man was not very sound asleep and overheard all these predictions, which made him very angry, and he said, “Such talk! It is all foolishness. I’m a middle-aged man now and the very idea that I’m to be the husband of a baby just born.”

But nevertheless he started out to hunt this child. He traveled and traveled up and down the country, and finally found in the village at the foot of the mountain, a little girl who had been born on that very day, and he knew that it was she about whom they had been speaking. So he slipped quietly up by the side of the house, picked up a small ax used to chop firewood, slipped around where the girl was and struck her. Believing he had killed her he ran away into a far country; but she recovered and grew to womanhood.

By and by the girl’s parents died and she was left an orphan with nothing at all, so she left her home and went traveling. By chance she went to the city where Drashup had taken up his residence. They met one day and instantly fell in love. As he was talking to her one time, he saw a big scar on her head and asked her how it came to be there.

“My parents told me that one time a man named Drashup took an ax and tried to kill me, in the village where I was born,” she told him.

When Drashup heard this, he knew there was no use to try to get away from the words of the future foretold by the goddesses of the mountain, but he didn’t tell her how she was to die, though he remembered that, also.

They were married and lived happily, though he was so much older than she. But he was always very careful to take the shoulder of the mutton for himself and see that she never got any of it. She, however, wondered why he always wanted the shoulder for himself, and one day when he was absent from home on business she killed a sheep and said, “As Drashup isn’t here I’ll eat the shoulder myself.” After eating it she remarked, “It was awfully good, no wonder he always wanted it himself.” Then suddenly she became violently ill and Drashup found her dead when he came home, and knew for sure that never could any one get away from the decision of the goddesses.

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How the Louse Got the Black Streak Down His Back

Eating pleasant things is like listening to words of praise.

Tibetan Proverb.

ONCE upon a time in this wonderful land where we dwell, where the sky is so blue and the mountains so high and the clouds so white and soft and woolly and so very close to the earth, here it was animals and men worked and struggled and spoke together.

At the foot of a great mountain one day a louse and a flea were preparing to go up into the timber and carry down a load of wood. Each had his rawhide strap with which to tie on his load, but before they left, knowing they would be hungry, they stood up three stones and put a big pot of soup and flour and meat upon them; then built a fire under it, leaving it to simmer until they should return, agreeing that whoever came down first with his load could eat it all up.

The flea was sure he would get home first because he could jump so far, but he found every time he jumped his load of wood slipped and some of his sticks fell out and he had to stop and replace and retie it. The louse plodded slowly along, but kept going steadily, so he got there first