The Lost Camel

This story is from Tales of the Sun or Folklore of Southern India by Georgiana Kingscote and Natesa Sastri (1890).

Note: The pagodas referred to in thi story are a gold coin issued by medieval kings in southern India, and then later by the British, French, and Dutch in India. You can find out more at Wikipedia.

(Gold Pagoda coin cast in Pondicherry, India, 18th-century)

The Lost Camel

There was a city called Alakapuri, famous for all the riches that sea and land can yield, and inhabited by people speaking different languages. In that city reigned a king named Alakesa, who was a storehouse of all excellent qualities. He was so just a king that during his reign the cow and the tiger amicably quenched their thirst side by side in the same pond, the cats and the rats sported in one and the same spot, and the kite and the parrot laid their eggs in the same nest, as though they were “birds of a feather.” The women never deviated from the path of virtue, and regarded their husbands as gods. Timely rain refreshed the soil, and all Alakesa’s subjects lived in plenty and happiness. In short, Alakesa was the body, and his subjects the soul of that body, for he was upright in all things.

Now there was in Alakapuri a rich merchant who lost a camel one day.

(Rajasthani man with his camel)

He searched for it without success in all directions, and at last reached a road which he was informed led to another city, called Mathurapuri, the king of which was named Mathuresa.

King Mathuresa had under him four excellent ministers, whose names were Bodhaditya, Bodhachandra, Bodhavyapaka, and Bodhavibhishana. These four ministers, being, for some reason, displeased with the king, quitted his dominions, and set out for another country.

As they journeyed along they observed the track of a camel, and each made a remark on the peculiar condition of the animal, judging from the footsteps and other indications on the road.

Presently they met the merchant who was searching for his camel, and, entering into conversation with him, one of the travellers inquired if the animal was not lame in one of its legs; another asked if it was not blind of the right eye; the third asked if its tail was not unusually short; and the fourth inquired if it was not suffering from colic. They were all answered in the affirmative by the merchant, who was convinced that they must have seen the animal and eagerly demanded where they had seen it. They replied that they had seen traces of the camel, but not the camel itself, which being inconsistent with the minute description they had given of it, the merchant accused them of having stolen the beast and immediately applied to king Alakesa for redress.

On hearing the merchant’s story, the king was equally impressed with the belief that the travellers must know what had become of the camel and, sending for them, threatened them with his displeasure if they did not confess the truth. How could they know, he demanded, that the camel was lame or blind, or whether the tail was long or short, or that it was suffering from any malady, unless they had it in their possession?

In reply, they each explained the reasons which had induced them to express their belief in these particulars.

The first traveller said, “I noticed in the footmarks of the animal that one was deficient, and I concluded accordingly that it was lame of one of its legs.”

The second said, “I noticed that the leaves of the trees on the left side of the road had been snapped or torn off, whilst those on the right side were untouched, whence I concluded that the animal was blind of his right eye.”

The third said, “I saw some drops of blood on the road, which I conjectured had flowed from the bites of gnats or flies, and I thence concluded that the camel’s tail was shorter than usual, in consequence of which he could not brush the insects away.”

The fourth said, “I observed that while the forefeet of the animal were planted firmly on the ground the hind ones appeared to have scarcely touched it, whence I guessed that they were contracted by pain in the belly of the animal.”

When the king heard their explanation he was much struck by the sagacity of the travellers, and giving five hundred pagodas to the merchant who had lost the camel; he made the four young men his principal ministers, and bestowed on each of them several villages as free gifts.

The Camel's Neck

The Talking Thrush and Other Tales from India by W. Crooke and W. H. D. Rouse, with illustrations by W. H. Robinson (1922): online text.

The book contains this note: The four-hand god is Vishnu in his form as Chaturbhuja.

(illustration by W. H. Robinson)

The Camel's Neck

ONCE upon a time there was a very religious Camel; at least, he was religious after the fashion of his country, that is, he used to mortify his flesh by fasting, and scratch himself with thorns, and lie awake all night meditating upon the emptiness of the world. That is what men used to do in that country, in order to please their gods.

One of these gods was very much pleased with the piety of the Camel; so one night, as the Camel was fasting, and saying over and over to himself, "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity," the god appeared before him. He was a curious-looking god, and he had four hands instead of two, but the Camel did not mind that, nor did he laugh; on the contrary, he went down on his knees and bowed before him.

"O Camel," said this god, "I have seen your fasting and heard your prayers, and I have come to reward you. Choose what boon you like, and it shall be yours."

"O mighty god, I should like to have a neck eight miles long."

The god answered, "Be it so!" and immediately the Camel felt his neck shooting out like a telescope, until it was eight miles long. It shot out so fast that the Camel found it hard to escape running his head against the trees. However, he steered it successfully, barring a bump or two, and as by the time his neck stopped growing he was far out of sight of the god, he could not even say thank you.

Now perhaps you will wonder why this Camel wanted a neck so long as eight miles. I will tell you. The reason was that, for all his fastings and penances, he was a lazy Camel, and he wanted to graze without the trouble of walking about. And now he could easily graze for a distance of eight miles all round in a circle, without moving from the spot where he lay. But it was rather dangerous, though he thought nothing of that, for when his head was grazing a few miles away, the hunters might stick a spear into his body or tie his legs together, without his seeing them.

All the summer the Camel had a fine time of it; he lay still and comfortable and sent his head foraging around, and strange to say, no harm happened to him. But before long the rainy season began. In the rainy season there are storms every day, and it rains cats and dogs. So when the rain began, the Camel wanted to keep dry, but he could not at first find a shed or a shelter eight miles long, or anything like it. At last he lit on a long winding cave that held most of his long neck. So he ran his neck into the cave and lay still, with the rain pouring upon his body.

This was bad enough, but worse was to come. For it happened that in this cave lived a He-Jackal and a She-Jackal.

When the Jackals saw this extraordinary neck winding along their cave, they were frightened and hid away.

"What is this snake?" said the He-Jackal to his wife.

"Oh dear, I don't know!" whimpered his wife. "I never saw a snake like this."

They kept quiet. The head passed out of view into the inner part of the cave; then, after a while, the creature lay still.

"Let us smell him!" said the He-Jackal.

They smelt him. "He smells nice," said the She-Jackal, "not a bit like a snake."

"Let us taste him!" said the He-Jackal.

They took a bite; the Camel stirred restlessly. They took another bite and liked that better still. They went on biting. The Camel curled round his head to see what was going on, but before the Camel's head could get back more than a mile or two, he grew so weak from loss of blood that he could move no more, and he died.

So died the idle Camel because the god granted him his foolish wish. Perhaps our wishes are often just as foolish, if we only knew it, and perhaps if they were fulfilled they would be the bane of us, as happened to the lazy and religious Camel.