The Story Of The Tortoise

: Han Folk Lore Stories

There was once a man who had two wives. Now as everybody knows it is

always the chief wife that the husband loves best, while the other

instead of being Mae Long, is only Mae Noi, and this often causes

jealousy and trouble in the family. It was so in this case, especially

as the chief wife did not have a son to add to her dignity. They each

had a daughter, the name of the chief wife's child was Nang Hsen Gaw,

and that f the other Nang E.



One day the husband of these women went to the lake to fish. He caught a

large number of shell fish and put them on the shore for his wives to

bring home. The younger took her share of the load, but, being very

hungry, she ate them all. The mother of Nang Hsen Gaw, however, was not

greedy like the other woman, and so she put all the fish that were left

into her bag and began to trudge slowly toward the house.



Now, the mother of Nang E was a witch, although no one, of course, knew

it. Being wicked enough to be a witch, she did not hesitate at

committing any other crime, even the most dreadful, and she therefore

made up her mind that she would kill the mother of Nang Hsen Gaw so that

she could be the chief wife. She got home much sooner than the other

woman, as she had no load to carry, and when she saw her husband he

naturally asked her where the fish were. "Now," she thought, "here's a

good chance to get that woman out of the way," so she told her husband

that his other wife was a poer, or witch, and she had taken all the

fish away from her. Now, witches are of course very much dreaded, so

when the poor woman came home with her heavy load of fish, the villagers

killed her with their sticks, and she was changed into a tortoise in the

lake.



And now at last the mother of Nang E was chief wife, but do you think

she was satisfied? Not a bit of it. She heard that her rival was now a

tortoise in the lake, and she determined to kill her again.



Some time after this, as Nang Hsen Gaw was in the jungle watching the

cows that belonged to her father, she walked along the edge of the lake

and was very much surprised to hear her own name called in familiar

tones. She looked around, but could see no one, and she was getting very

frightened, thinking that it was perhaps a hpea who wanted to entice

her into the thick jungle so that he could devour her, but at last she

looked on the ground at her feet and saw it was a tortoise that was

speaking to her.



"Nang Hsen Gaw," it called. "My daughter, oie! I am your mother who

was killed through the wicked acts of my rival, the mother of Nang E. I

have arrived at great trouble, and now, instead of being the chief wife

of a rich man, I am nothing but a tortoise swimming in the lake. Take

pity on me, my daughter, and out of compassion every day bring me cotton

thread and raw cotton, so that I can weave and spin."




Page 68.]



Nang Hsen Gaw was a dutiful daughter, and every day when she went to the

jungle she took cotton for her mother to spin, and thread for her to

weave, and daily talked with her, telling her all the gossip of the

village and anything else that she thought her mother would like to

hear.



But the mother of Nang E was on the watch, and thinking it strange that

the girl should take cotton and thread to the jungle every day, and

bring none back with her when she drove the cattle back at night, she

followed her, heard her talking with her mother, and thus found out in

what part of the lake her enemy was, and laid her plan accordingly.



That evening, unknown to her family, while her husband was busy working

in his garden, she went to the house where lived the doctor of the

village, unfolded her plans to him and asked for his help. Being an

unscrupulous man he agreed, took the silver the woman had pilfered from

her husband, and promised to help her. The next day she was taken very

sick and her husband called in the doctor, who told him that the woman

must have a tortoise from the lake near-by. If she boiled and ate it

according to his directions she would get well, if not, she would die.

Having performed his part of the bargain he returned to his home at the

other end of the village.



Next morning the man went to the lake to get the tortoise. Nang Hsen Gaw

was much distressed when she saw her father set out, and her distress

became worse when she saw that the wicked stepmother had directed him

to the little pond where her own mother was. The man took a large bucket

made out of wicker work, and commenced baling out the water, but Nang

Hsen Gaw was able to warn her mother just where her father was, so that

when he was on one side of the pond her mother went to the other, but at

last he sent the girl home, and in a few minutes secured the tortoise

and was soon carrying it away for his wife to eat.



When he got home he gave her the tortoise, little thinking who it was,

and then went out, while the witch called Nang Hsen Gaw to watch the pot

which had been put over the fire.



Soon the poor girl heard her mother call out. She said that the hot

water had reached her knees, and begged her to put out the fire. She

commenced to rake out the hot embers from under the pot, when her

stepmother saw what she was doing, and taking up a heavy bamboo beat her

unmercifully and made her put more sticks on the fire. Soon her mother

complained again that the heat had reached her shoulders, and again Nang

E's mother beat her, and made her put more sticks on the fire. Soon she

heard her mother say: "My daughter, oie! The hot water has reached my

neck and I shall soon be dead. When it is all over, do not let that

wicked woman destroy me altogether, but bury me in the jungle," and in a

few minutes she was dead.



Nang Hsen Gaw tried her best to get the dead body of her mother, but her

stepmother watched her carefully, and all she could not eat herself she

gave to the dogs, to prevent her daughter from getting any, but one dog

ran off with his portion into the jungle. Nang Hsen Gaw followed in time

to rescue the webbing between the fingers.[3] This was all that was

left, but she buried that carefully in the jungle far from the house

where her stepmother lived.



The next day as she was walking through the jungle feeding her cows, she

heard sweet music. It sounded like twelve organs all playing at the same

time, and yet in harmony, each organ blending with the others. In great

surprise she hunted around till she came to the spot where she had

buried the part of her mother's hand, and saw that during the night this

had changed into a beautiful mai nyung kham tree.[4] And so this good

and dutiful daughter went every day to listen to the tree as she had

gone daily to the lake when her mother had been a tortoise, and the tree

sang sweeter when she was near than at any other time.



But such a wonderful thing as this could not be kept a secret. Others

heard of it and people came from far and near to hear the sweet music

come from the tree. One of the amats of the great king who "ate"[5]

the country, heard that a miracle was to be seen in this jungle, and

accordingly reported it to his lord, who sent men to cut the tree down

and bring it to his palace. All day long the men worked at the tree,

from the time the country became light till the moon rose at night, but

although they had the sharpest of axes and were the most skillful

workmen in all the country, yet with all their labor they could only cut

through the bark, and during the night the tree grew so quickly that

when the morning dawned, it was twice as large as it was the night

before, and the marks made by the axes on the bark were covered with new

bark harder than ever.



The king was very angry when he heard of the ill success of his woodmen,

had them all executed, and sent others, but they had no better success

than the first. But this only made the king more stubborn and determined

to get the tree at any cost, and he therefore sent the heralds all

through the country and made a proclamation that any man who could bring

the tree to his palace should be made his Kem Moeng, that is, heir

apparent; should it be a woman, she should become Nang Me Prah, or

chief queen. Many men therefore came with sharp pahs and axes but all

were equally unsuccessful, and the king despaired of ever getting the

tree, when Nang Hsen Gaw heard of the reward offered by the king, and

told the heralds she could bring the tree to his palace. The king was

full of joy when he heard this, and made great preparations for her. On

her part she simply went to the jungle and, taking off her turban,

fastened it around the tree and carried it bodily into the palace where

it sang as sweetly every day as when it was in the jungle.



When the mother of Nang E heard of the good fortune that had befallen

Nang Hsen Gaw she was very angry, and calling her own daughter to

follow her, she set off for the capital. When she had arrived there she

disguised herself and became a servant to the queen, and pondered how

she could kill the Nang Me Prah and put her own daughter Nang E in her

place.



One day this wicked woman told the queen that she had found some fine

soap beans and bark, that she was very skillful in shampooing, and as

the next day was to be a great feast when the queen would follow the

king on her royal elephant, the soap beans would make her black hair

blacker, and the gloss glossier than ever, and asked her to allow her to

wash the queen's head at a well that was just outside the gate of the

palace, near the royal gardens, where the water was very sweet. The

queen consented and called her attendants to follow, but the stepmother

was much too cunning to allow that, so she told the queen that her

method of washing was better than any other woman's but it was a secret,

and she would reserve it for her majesty's own private use, but she did

not want any of the attendants to see how it was done. If they did, she

added, the next day at the feast every lady in the court would have hair

as glossy as the queen's, but if they went alone, her hair would be as

much more beautiful than any other woman's as the sun is more beautiful

than the bamboo torch that lights the way through the jungle at night,

when there is no moon. The young queen was not proof against this

flattery, and so the two women went alone out of the palace, the very

guards who watched at the gates not knowing whither they were going.



They soon arrived at the well, and as the queen was bending over, her

long hair covering her face so that she could see nothing, her wicked

stepmother suddenly drew a knife and stabbed her to the heart, then,

calling her daughter to help, she buried the poor young queen under the

road leading to the well. She took the royal robes and put them on her

own daughter, Nang E, who returned to the royal palace and entered the

royal apartments, all the attendants thinking it was the real queen

returned from a bath in the river.



That same afternoon, as the king walked through the palace, he was

surprised to see that the wonderful singing tree was all withered and

mute. In great distress he called for the queen and ordered her to make

the tree sing as before, but although Nang E tried with all her might,

she could make no sound. She tapped it softly as she had seen Nang Hsen

Gaw do, but all in vain. It was silent.



Now the king was in the habit of wearing Burmese clothing instead of

Shan, and one day when he had gone to his room to put on his ptsoe, he

found that a little sparrow had built, her nest in it. He was a very

kind man, and so allowed the little bird to live there, and in gratitude

to the king this sparrow was in the habit of telling him all she saw as

she flew around the city from morn to night, and whenever the king

wished to find out anything that puzzled him, he would often call the

sparrow to tell him what to do.



He therefore now called the little bird and asked it what ailed the

tree, and the sparrow told him that the woman who was then in the royal

apartments and wearing the clothes of the Nang Me Prah was not the

real queen, but a woman named Nang E, and seeing her approach, the brave

little bird began whistling, "This is not the Nang Me Prah, this is

Nang E, Nang E. Oh! Nang E!"



In a great rage the king commanded his servants to call the woman, and

when she was come into the royal presence she dared not open her mouth

to answer the king, for she was not so clever as her mother, who could

disguise her voice as well as her face, and she knew that if she began

to speak the king would see that she was not Nang Hsen Gaw, so she

remained silent. But this did not save her, for the king looked at her

and said:



"You wear the robes and jewels of my queen, but you have not the same

face, and you are afraid to speak to me," and he immediately called his

chief executioner to take her away and cut off her head.



But even this did not bring back the music to the tree, and the king was

disconsolate.



The next morning when the guard of the royal garden went to his post, he

saw, near the well, a beautiful mawk moo flower, took it home with him

and placed it in the chattie of water that every Shan keeps in his

house as an offering to the hpeas. The old mother Nai, soon after took

her basket and went to the bazaar to buy puc for her son's breakfast,

but when she returned she was surprised to see that during her absence

some one had swept the house, cooked the food, and that the "morning

rice" was all ready to eat. The eating-tray was set out in the middle of

the room. The rice and curry was arranged in order on it, and the

drinking chattie was full of scented water. She called her son and all

the neighbors to ask who had done this, but no one could tell her, and

in great amazement they sat down to their meal. That evening the same

thing happened again. While she was out, the house was again swept, the

food was prepared, and the tray arranged as in the morning. For several

days this happened, and then the old woman determined to hide and see

who did these kind acts. She did so, and was amazed to see that as soon

as she had left the house (she went under the floor and looked up

through a hole between the bamboos), that a spirit came out of the mawk

moo flower that her son had brought from the road leading to the well,

and commenced to sweep the house. In the midst of it the old woman

rushed up to the flower and destroyed it, so that the spirit could not

go back to its refuge. At the same instant, it changed into the most

beautiful woman ever seen.



That afternoon, Nang Hsen Gaw, for the spirit was she, told old Nai how

her stepmother had killed her at the well, and buried her, and how she

had been changed into the spirit of the beautiful mawk moo flower the

guard had brought to the house, and that she would soon go back to the

king in the palace.



They neither of them had seen the little sparrow sitting on the roof,

but she had been there all the time, and now flew off to the king and

told him all that she had heard. The king gave orders that the wicked

mother of Nang E should be executed immediately, and that a band of

soldiers should go to the guard's house to escort his bride back in

state to the palace, where she reigned many, many years, till she saw

her grandchildren and great-grandchildren grow up. As soon as the queen

entered the gate, the tree began to play; the withered leaves put on a

bright hue, and beautiful flowers burst into bloom; and while Nang Hsen

Gaw lived, the tree bloomed and played sweetest music every day.



The lessons that this story teaches are: As surely as the wheels of the

cart follow the oxen, so surely will wickedness be punished. If you sin

you must suffer. The man who kills another will assuredly meet the same

fate.



[3] The Shans call the two front feet of a quadruped "hands." The digits

are called "fingers" not "toes."



[4] The sacred peepul tree.



[5] The Shans do not usually say that a king "rules" over a country, but

the expression generally used is that he "eats" it; a very suggestive

and alas! too often only too true expression.