ASIA Fries and Legends of Annam I ^ CI. ChivaS'B aron CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY THE •- ' -^ CHARLES WILLIAM WASON COLLECTION ON CHINA AND THE CHINESE eomaH UntaaMHy Library GR 310.C54 1920 Stories and legends of Annam / 3 1924 023 423 142 Cornell University Library The original of tliis bool< is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924023423142 STORIES AND LEGENDS OF ANNAM (l)forii2§ and Lizgi^nds nnam By CI. Chivas-Baion off! Translated from the French Contes el Ligendea de I'Jlnnam by E. M. Smith-Dampier Andrew Melrose, Ltd. London and New York 1920 First published in xg2o CONTENTS Inteoduction vii I. The Watee-Genie .... 1 II. The Teeasuee of the Cham Chieftain . 9 III. The Death of My Loed Tigee, . 19 IV. In the Deagon Kingdom . . .27 V. The Betel and the Aeeca-Teee . 37 VI. Songs of Blind Men . . . .53 VII. The Maeket oF Phu-Cam . . . 57 VIII. The Ceow and the Peacock , . .61 IX. The Daughtee of King Minh-Tong . 65 X. The Genie of the Tan-Vien . . 69 XI. The Tailoe of Hue ... 71 XII. The Blind Man . : . .75 XIII. HisTOEY OF King Teieu-ViIt . . 79 XIV. The Rice-Genie (Ong-lua) . . 83 XV. The Family 87 V Contents PAGE XVI. The Rock of Voug-Phu . 91 XVII. The Bamboo . . 95 XVIII. The Rival Genii . . 99 XIX. Song on the Death of i I Young Maiden . 105 XX. HoNG-Lo the Giant . 109 XXI. Ba the Buffalo-Hekd . . 12S XXII, Thsing-Kou . . 133 XXIII. Tea .... . 153 XXIV. The Sensitive Plant . . 163 XXV. The Moon-Stone . . 175 XXVI. The Peael . . 191 XXVII. The Oechid . . 209 XXVIII. The Pool of Pice . 221 XXIX. SOUSSYAMA . 233 xXx. They who Died foe their Country 243 XXXI. The Citizen of Cc-Lac . 249 VI INTRODUCTION \ NNAM is the land of legends. Always ■^"^ poetic, often tragic, these legends are in perfect harmony with the strange, san- guinary soil, the outlandish vegetation, the air saturated with perfume, and the aerial sounds of the sacred musical instruments, singing, in the purple dawn, the praises of almighty Buddha. The religions of Buddha, Confucius, and Tao, a heterogeneous collection which make up the dogmas of his faith, are not sufficiently complicated for the An- namite. To the beliefs recognized by the bonzes are united the most unexpected, most original superstitions, transmitted from one generation to another by a tradition stronger and more deeply rooted in men's minds vii Introduction than all the laws and commandments written in the sacred books. The Genii, the Ma, are everywhere. Benevolent or ferocious, they are hidden in the calm rivers, the dangerous torrents, in the sea, under the mountain, or in the heart of the forest. Each tree, each plant, conceals a god. Is the tree useful ? The Ma is good. Is the plant poisonous ? The Ma is evil. The Ma-Ra, or Ma-Da (Water Genii) are of capricious temper. Anything may be feared from their wrath. The Ma-Xo (Mountain Genii) hold or let loose the thunder. The Ma -Loan (Frightful Monsters) spread epidemics, and the Ma-Troi (Will o' the Wisps) cause fear after nightfall. The lesser genii, moreover, frequently take animal form. My Lord the Tiger is something of a god. He is respected as much as feared. When dead, he yet causes death ; for from viii Introduction his claws, his whiskers, and his slaver, are bom animal poisons, of which the sorcerers make great use. One little bone alone, the Way-khai, found in My Lord's shoulder, brings good luck. The elephant is the great Mandarin, the "gentleman who knows everjrthing." The whale is a good soul; and on the beach may be found the Nghe-mieu, little pagodas dedicated to the "lady-fish," in honour of the fortunate spot where her body was driven ashore. Familiar spirits exist, household gods ready to make themselves useful ... or to try the patience of the house-mistress. Such are the rat, the ant (gentleman with supernatural powers), the extraordinary margouillat, a tiny transparent lizard, the buddha-serpent, etc. Some beasts are frankly fabulous ; the thuong-cuong, the dragon who dwells in the lagoons, or walks, in the clear dawn, on the great marble peaks. He can only ix Introduction be seen by those guilty of ^ome crime, to whom he announces the approach of celes- tial vengeance. The con-ngoc, the pearl-animal, assures his possessor of perfect felicity. The appearance of a pair of phoenixes, birds wonderful as rare, presages precious fidelity in marriage. Lastly, besides the Ma and the dragons, everyone knows the con-tinh, a redoubtable feminine genie. When nights are dense, without star- hght, the con-tinh dance a dishevelled sarabande ; and woe betide the heedless mortal whom they entwine in their hellish rounds ! All these genii, good and evil, are only lesser spirits. It would be unseemly to confuse them with the " Than," the greater genii, essentially benevolent, or, above all, with the great, the sacred Dragon, whose gigantic body sustains the whole land of Annam. Introduction His heart is at Hu^, the capital, and his members stretch from High Tonkin to Low Cochin-China. Here and there, in river-beds or hollow vales, these sacred members are almost on the surface of the soil. Care must then be taken not to dig the earth too deeply ; the Dragon might be injured, and grave catastrophes caused. Cao-Bien, the legendary General, having used thunder to rout his foes,' broke thus one of the most holy Dragon's veins, and the blood then shed stained for all time the waters of the Red River. The sacred Dragon is the symbol of virtue, courage, power, and honour. With so many subjects at hand, one can scarcely be surprised at the number and diversity of the fantastic tales passed on from age to age by the old men, re-told ' Thus is explained the appearance of gunpowder in a battle, about 370, during the reign of the Emperor Am-Tong of the Chinese dynasty of the Duong. xi Introduction and embellished by the blind, the rustic bards, ever listened to, ever believed. All who have best known — and best loved — Annam, have felt the mystic poetry of these gracious tales. J. Boissiere points out their significance and " inevitability." " The Annamite," he writes,^ " never dreams of repudiating those vague beliefs which form part of his family tradition. . . . Why with the microscope of scepticism examine these dreams which, at certain times, so well fulfil their function as com- forters and enchanters ? " Why reject these legends where heroes, genii, learned men, and gracious princesses are to be found ? " Why, like a naughty boy breaking his plaything, destroy these pretexts for tale-telling during vigils and dreamy hours ? "Never have they been weapons in ' L' Indo-chine avec let Franfaii. xii Introduction fanatical hands. Never have they done anyone harm." The erudite professor, M. G. Dumoutier, has translated the pagoda inscriptions, and collected the great historical legends. Pasquier, in his short sketch of Annamite' literature, mentions certain miraculous tales. M. de PouvourviUe {Rimes Chinoises) has sung many antique heroes. M. J. Ajalbert shows a wise and witty understanding of the Far-Eastern story-teller. The Rev. Father Cadi^re has collected the popular superstitions of the Ngu6n-Son Valley and of the Quang-Tri. Emile Nolly quotes exquisitely from the Luc-Van-GiSn (a cele- brated Annamite poem), and the Chuy^n- doi-Xua (Tales of Old Times). Often, in the bush, when twilight had cooled the air scented with the breath of wild lilac or frangipani, we would settle down beneath the straw-thatched verandah. Phiji-Io, our "boy," a big fellow some xiii Introduction thirty years old, simple as a child, credulous like every good Annamite, would bring us the news of the day, adding that touch of the marvellous so dear to the Oriental imagination. Sometimes, too, when the chances of travel had led us to a pagoda, a ruin, or one of those faerie landscapes frequently found in Indo-China, Phu-Io would relate to us the memories associated with those stones, those trees, that water, that space of sky ; the familiar legends of Annam. The more complex, terrible, or mysterious among the historical legends are left — ^if I may so express it — to the bonzes and learned men, and reach the people only by means of long rhythmical complaints, chanted slowly, in doleful tones, by poets, blind men, singing girls, and actors. Certain historical and classical legends must, however, be excepted ; they are better known because more frequently re- peated and heard. xiv Introduction Such, for example, is the legend of Ong- th§,n-giong,^ " babe sleeping in his cradle," who grew up all of a sudden under the eyes of a hostile king, seized a sword, sprang on a horse, rushed into the fray,' and drove away the " foreigners." Such is the legend of the " Two Sacred Ladies," the Trung sisters, who freed their country from the Chinese yoke, and "re- vived" it by wise legislation. This divine mission accomplished, the , souls of the Ladies ascended "voluntarily" to heaven, the realm of the heroes and greater genii, while their bodies, borne away by the docile and " respectful " river, paused at the exact spot where they wished to be honoured. There is, again, the tale of Quang-Su, the wise bonze who cured a king's madness, and crossed the sea on his hat to seek " all the copper in China," with which he cast ' This may possibly refer to the second incarnation of Hnyen-De, the genie Tran-Vu spoken df by M. Dumoutier. XV Introduction a bell ; and its enchanting sound attracted the golden buffalo which enriched the Em- peror of Annam. Sitting up o' nights, while the smoky- lamps cast an uncertain light on the threshold of the cai-nhas (little houses), the old folks tell of the self-sacrifice of good King Ly ; the crimes and debaucheries of Oai-muc, the " sorrowful king " ; the might of the terrible Tartar Kou-bilai, son of Ghengis-Khan, might broken by L#-Loi, beloved of the genii. They repeat the most glorious episodes of ancient warfare and bloody combats with the Tay-Son. Every tale is amphfied and complicated —sometimes completely disfigured — by the constant intervention of the god-genii, of Sakya-Muni, of the great buddha Huyen-Dd, or the Emperor of Jade, Ngoc- Hoang. The Annamite, having no very definite beliefs, accepts the most contradictory legends in the same spirit of— superficial xvi Introduction faith, attracted only by the " marvellous," which entertains and instructs him. " It is possible," he says cheerfully, " to understand heavenly matters in different waySj without ceasing to be an honest man." My boy once explained this religious tolerance — I was going to say " indifference" — by an ingenious comparison : " Once upon a time, Lao-Tseu opened the Tao-teu-Kinh (Book of Reason) before three of his disciples, placed at a yard's distance, and bade them decipher the sacred characters. " The first saw only the most accentuated brush-marks; the second — a priest — read the entire text ; while the third, who was short-sighted, perceived but ' black and white.' " Thus it is with the matters of Up Above ; each man sees them with his soul as he sees the characters with his eyes ; the purblind reads not as the priest, the h xvii Introduction ignorant understands not as the lettered. And," added Phu-Io, " the Tao, the Sage, is pleased all the same ! " The humble Annamite allows to the book-learned a higher, more enlightened religion, superior to his own ; ^ but he realizes that this religion is not for an ignorant man like him. He remains faith- ful to the legends, which frequently, for him, take the place of moral precepts. Since the historical legends have been, for the most part, already collected, I have here endeavoured, quite simply, to reproduce some among the popular beUefs of our yeUow brethren. I hope that my "bar- barous French " may not convey too in- accurately the picturesque flavour of the language used by my boy, Phii-Io. ' The Dao-nho, who has his Chinese equivalent in the Jou-Keao. XVIU STORIES AND LEGENDS OF ANNAM THE WATER-GENIE I /^LOSE by the banks of the Song-Lo are huddled the wretched thatched roofs of a little Annamite village. It is Ban-Han. F-'^ery morning, before the sun reddened the horizon, arid often again at eve, when the sky was streaked with long bands of purple and gold, K§,m-K6ng would go down the principal village-street, the muddy street defiled with betel, encumbered with children, pigs, and poultry. She went with elastic, somewhat cat-like steps, along the path bordered with cactus The Water-Genie which winds down to the river. A bamboo on her shoulder sustained the two brown earthen pots wherein the young congdie was wont to draw water. Kam-K6ng was glad to be alive. She sang in soft tones the Li-ou-K-ou-sai.^ Her white cai-do^ fluttered behind her to the rhythm of her lightsome pace. Her feet, arched and bare, scarce touched the earth. Now and then they struck a pebble, which, set a-roUing, ran down the bank, and fell into the water with crystalUne " plop." After following the river a while, Kam- Kong came to a little cove, where the grey leaden waters of the Song-Lo grew clearer, more limpid, almost blue. Tall, slender bamboos mirrored them- selves with dehght in that lovely looking- glass. Reeds rustled, and grasshoppers sang. Kam-K6ng set down her water-pots, ' Song of the Anuamite boatmen. ^ White tunic worn both by men and women. 3 The Water-Genie admired herself awhile in the pearly wave, then raising her trousers from her straight ankles, she went down into the river, and made her toilette with the coquettish move- ments of a kitten. She unfastened her long locks, shook them out in the sun, and twisted them into a close and heavy knot. Kim-K&ng came regretfully forth from the river. The water was so sweet to her slender form ! For a long minute the young girl gazed into the azure depths. The far-off complaint of a blind man was heard . . . and the shrill call of an angry woman. K^m-K6ng recognized her mother's voice. Hastily she filled her water-pots ; and, after a last look at the alluring stream, the little congdie went up the steep bank once more. II That very evening, beneath her long 3 The Water -Genie thatched roof, the ba-gia (old woman), having thrown away her betel-quid, told a very fine story. To astonished children, laughing maidens, and sceptical youths, she declared that there lived in the Song-Lo a genie beautiful as the sun. This all-powerful genie dwelt in dripping caverns, decked with dazzling jewel-work, at the bottom of the river. He commanded a whole army of sea-monsters and dragons, who, like their master, were now very good, and now very evil. Was it not this cruel genie who capsized, only last month, Phii-Binh's sampan ? Was it not he again, who yesterday filled the nets of that same Phii-Binh with fish in such quantity that five men had to help draw them from the river? And that was a mere nothing ! In the old Emperor's time, most amazing things had been seen and known. . . . Tradition, besides, preserved the names of pretty 4 The Water-Genie maids who had vanished under water, desired and possessed by the amorous genie. All this the old woman related with sweeping, tragical gestures, and cabalistic puckerings of the brows. She ended with counsel never to tempt, never exasperate, the genie of the Song-Lo. Kam-K6ng paid devout attention to the ba-gia. Dreamily she went her way, and took her water-pots for the accustomed task. Her step was less purposeful than its wont, and she sang no longer. Dim murmurings, well-nigh whispers, seemed to sound amid the banyans. Lights winked behind the growing hedges. The sky darkened swiftly ; night was come. Shadows thickened around the young congdie. . . . The monotonous song of a boatman rose for a moment above all the night-noises. The click of oars accom- panied and lent rhythm to the wild melody, which started on a long, piercing note, and 5 The Water-Genie died away in a series of solemn sounds, filled with sobs. A stronger breath of the evening breeze rattled the hard bamboo-stems, and traced weird wrinkles on the surface of the river. Kslm-Kong was frightened. Amid the strange eddies, she seemed to see the dia- boUcal faces of dragons. But all at once the huge disk of the moon rose behind the hill, and silvered the flood with such a splendour that Kam- Kong forgot alike her alarm, the ba-gia's ridiculous tales, the filling of her water-pots, and her mother's probable wrath. Rather timid still, she went down softly into the river; her slender fingers strayed on the liquid surface, tracing capricious furrows. . . . The maiden now moved gently as a mother who fears to wake her sleeping babe. . . . Might she not displease the Ma by bathing at so late an hour ? But the heat had been so overwhelming 6 The Water-Genie that day, the sun so sultry ! . . . and the water must be so pleasant ! Kam-K6ng, hesitating, dipped first one foot, then the other. . . . How alluring was the wave's cooling caress ! How spark- ling that sheet of silver ! Every star now lit an emerald or a diamond in that silent, moving surface. . . . Was it indeed the marvellous dwelling of the genie beautiful as the sun ? Then Kam-K6ng hesitated no longer. She unfastened her cai-do, loosed her girdle, and let her garment fall. Slender, naked, white in the moonbeams, she wondered awhile at the iridescence of the waves ; then went on, sinking little by little into the soft, voluptuous waters. A shiver crept through her from neck to hips. . . . K&m-Kong lay back, swoon- ing and languorous. . . . Confused singing hummed in her ears, an exquisite dream- music. . . . All at once, a sublime vision, amid a 7 The Water-Genie magical glimmering, a splendid and beautiful Being held out his arms towards her. . . . Ill Although seven or eight generations have gone by, the maidens laugh no more at eve vrhen the old women or blind men speak of the river-god hidden in the depths of the Song-Lo. They go far aside sooner than pass alone by the banks of the alluring stream. ' They know only too well that Kam- K6ng, whose garments and water-pots were found, but whose body was never seen again, Kam-K6ng the fair, Kam-K6ng the rash, was desired and seized by the Water-Genie. {Legend gathered at Ban-San in the region of the Thays.) II THE TREASURE OF THE CHAM CHIEFTAIN I "DIIOM the lugubrious landscape exhaled a poignant sadness. 'Twas a grey night, unillumined by stars, but not opaque. Beyond its deep moats, filled with muddy water, the Citadel of Cao-Lao raised its black walls in a line that hid the horizon. By the near side, crouched on his heels, his chin in his hands, Nhanh sat dreaming. Nhanh dreamt not of love ; he despised women ; women felt for him unconquerable aversion. And yet Nhanh was young, built like a Hercules ; but his narrow eyes were so false and oblique, his jaw so prominent, his nose so hideously crushed in, that he 9 The Treasure of the Cham Chieftain rather resembled one of the cat-tribe than a human being. He was terrifying to behold. In the vast night-silence, broken only by the cry of birds of prey, Nhanh, motionless, pondered how to seize the wealth of the Cham Chieftain. He knew every detail of the royal burial. He knew that, having crossed the moats and climbed the walls, he would find him- self near to the sepulchre. He knew that with the ancient monarch was buried his treasure — a fabulous trea- sure. Neither was Nhanh ignorant of the legend ; how, ere they continued their con- quering march, in order to guard their Chief and his riches, the Chams had buried four living warriors hard by their dead master. North, south, east, and west, the Chief was guarded by his slaves . . . and that from age to age. At the recollection, a grinning smile 10 The Treasure of the Cham Chieftain passed over the man's coarse lips. Nhanh held, with some reason, that the four warriors had long been in no state to de- fend their Chief, and that all he had to fear was a fight with spectres. Ghosts had no terrors for Nhanh. The difficulty — and that a prodigious one — was to enter the Citadel, to force the door of the tomb, or pierce through its walls. There was a triple climb to dare, a double plunge to take in fetid, miry waters, said to be peopled with reptiles. Nhanh had made himself familiar with every crack, every cranny, every roughness of the wall. . . . He was agile as an ape. Dared he attempt so hazardous an ad- venture ? Were he taken in the act, it would mean death, preceded by fearful tortures. . . . But then only to think that this treasure, this fairy treasure, might be his own ! — that he, Nhanh the beggar, might be rich — rich 11 The Treasure of the Cham Chieftain enough to rouse the envy of a Mandarin with three claws ! . . . Could he not risk something to attain such an end ? Nhanh arose. His silhouette formed a momentary shadow, vague and dark, against the viscous waters. With scarce a splash, Nhanh glided into the moat. A few rapid strokes, and, de- spite the twining stems of the water-plants, he reached the opposite side. He began the difficult ascent. Gripping the projections of the stone, raising himself by sheer muscular strength, Nhanh reached the top of the wall. After a glance all round, the man let himself fall to the earth. He was in the Citadel. He crawled, rather than walked, to the mausoleum. There again he had recourse to his acrobatic gifts. 12 The Treasure of the Cham Chieftain II In the inner court the silence was more oppressive. Nhanh stood motionless. . . . Was no mysterious guardian there hidden, ready to raise the alarm as soon as he should perceive the robber's presence ? Not a sound. Death reigned, and silence. The very owls fled those mournful walls. Then Nhanh took the pick-axe he bore on his shoulder, and went about his ghastly business. He took heed, however, to avoid the spot where the warriors were buried. . . . Al- ready his spirit held out less strongly against ghostly hallucinations. He dug, demolished, excavated. . . . He loosened a great slab. Sweat streamed from his brow, his nails were torn, his hands covered with blood. Hours passed. Nhanh had discovered nothing. He was panting, almost exhausted ; his breath whistled through his clenched teeth. All at once his bruised fingers felt a hard 13 The Treasure of the Cham Chieftain substance. ... It was the king's coffin. Superstitious fear invaded his spirit ; dared , he perpetrate that frightful profanation ? There the old Chieftain slept his eternal sleep. . . . Was it for him, Nhanh, to break that majestic and sacred slumber ? The man stood shaking and undecided. . . . But a feeling stronger, more imperious than his fear, drove away that dread, that hesitation. The treasure was there, within reach of his hand. ... A little labour, a little courage . . . and in a few moments he would possess inexhaustible riches. At the thought his strength redoubled. A violent blow with the pick-axe, and the coffin lay open. And Nhanh, cynical all at once, tore away the silks, and dis- placed the royal bones. At last ! His fingers felt the contact of metal ; the treasure was found 1 Bars of silver were there, jewels of gold, and precious stones. 14 The Treasure oj the Cham Chieftain Delirious joy filled the wretch's soul. Rapidly he heaped up the riches in the folded cere-cloth. Did he leave aught behind ? No, Hastily Nhanh threw back into the hole he had dug the wreckage of bones, wood, stone, and earth. . . . He replaced the heavy slab. Ill Nhanh was now immensely rich. He had but to leave the Citadel, and flee into some far country, where he might fear- lessly enjoy his accursed fortune. He could aspire henceforth to every honour, covet the most beautiful congdies, despite his frightful face. ... Is woman ever insensible to the charm of gold 1 His thick-lipped mouth opened in a silent, Satanic laugh. Nhanh settled his precious burden firmly on his loins. Nimbly, gaily, he climbed the walls, and threw himself into the moat, 15 The Treasure of the Cham Chieftain One moment, and he would reach the shore. ... It was time ; dawn whitened the horizon, and nature was awaking. . . . IV What befell Nhanh ? His limbs became immovable, a hideous spasm grew fixed on his horrified face, and hoarse sounds issued from his throat. . . . The water-lilies' long flexible stalks fettered the thief; enormous snakes twined round his legs, his arms, his body. The Chieftain's treasure grew heavy — strangely heavy. Nhanh made desperate efforts. . , . 'Twas a fearful fight he sustained against the reptiles, more ferocious than the fiercest dragons of legend. . . . It was day. Peasants passed by ; women came and went about the houses. Nhanh shouted. Folks came running. 16 The Treasure of the Cham Chieftain , Ten tried, and twenty, to aid the man in distress. 'Twas all in vain. Nhanh was dragged down to the bottom of the moat by an invisible, invincible Power. All at once the time-worn silks let the treasure escape. A miracle happened. During one long minute, floating light as cork, the magic treasures were displayed on the surface of the miry water. The dazzled spectators beheld the glitter of the goldsmith's work, the sparkle of the gems. . . . Then suddenly ail disappeared. Men, women, youths, ancients, tried to snatch something of gold or silver. . . , They drew up nothing in their nets but loathsome mire and pestiferous beasts. Centuries have fallen into the gulf of Time. Despite the minutest, most patient search, C 17 The Treasure of the Cham Chieftain the phantasmal riches, seen for a moment, yet remain hidden. Sometimes by night, when the grey sky sheds a diffused gloaming, a man's form is seen crouching by the moat of the Citadel of Cao-Lao. He is dreaming of the Cham Chieftain's treasure. {Souvenir of avisit to the Citadel of Cao-Lao 1910.) 18 Ill THE DEATH OF MY LORD TIGER TTE was very old, My Lord Tiger. Once upon a time, in the season of his youthful loves and successful stag-hunts, he had chosen his dwelling amid the bosky woods of the Quang-Tsi. His renowned prowess was much talked of in tiger society ; none had known better how to seize in their haunts the tremulous does, or track the agile stags among the lianas. But that was long, long ago. Through a stifihess in the shoulder his gait became heavy and halting ; his whiskers grew inordinately ; and his claws, broken or over-long, hindered him when it came to catching his prey. Unhappy Lord ! 19 The Death of My Lord Tiger He was reduced to short commons ; he had to eat Man ! A self-respecting tiger, as everyone knows, does not come to such cruel straitS' for fun. Our old Lord was exceeding sad. Under the sarcastic gaze of boastful young tigers, he was forced, when hunger became too pressing, to wait long hours for a carter at the turn of the road, tear a wood-cutter's throat, or stalk women going to market. Then again^had these ill-bred persons only offered themselves up with a good grace! Far from that, they presumed to resist, not realizing what honour was done them. So My Lord, with his somewhat crazy teeth, crunched such humans as he could catch. No one can be unaware that the soul of a man or a woman — when she happens to have one — cannot attain Nirvana if its body should have served as food for a Lord. It must await this Lord's death ere it can win eternal felicity. Till then it must needs 20 The Death of My Lord Tiger ride a cock-horse on the swallower's back, even should the latter live as long as Methuselah. This position at times is excessively awkward. Our noble Lord bore on his back numberless souls, jammed up, poor things, dashed against one another, a wailing chorus, all fighting for the best place. " Excuse me, ma'am," said a carpenter to an old ba-gia, " I was eaten before you. That place is due to me, next the mane, by which one can cling on so comfortably." " Not at all ! 1 got this place before you. Since to start with you chose the cushioned croup, stop there ! " Bitter and wounding were the words they exchanged. Verily that tiger's spine presented no worshipful picture of happiness ! Every week brought a fresh tenant. It was most disastrous ! You can imagine with what exquisite amenities the new- comer was welcomed. 21 The Death of My Lord Tiger Now there came a fine day when not 'the least little particle of the fell was un- occupied. On that day, as on others, My Lord was hungry. He was, indeed, extremely hungry. While passing by a village, he spied an old man, who was filling his buckets at the pagoda well. With a " han ! " of sheer weariness, he shook his mane, heavy with souls, and his decrepit talons proved strong enough to pull down the old man ; who expired. Where was the wretch's soul to find a place ? It found one ... at the tip of the tail. There was a lack of comfort about it. I leave you to picture the buflFetings, the giddy swayings, of that poor soul ! The smallest midge that went by caused fantastic oscillations. Old Cai — the last eaten — could not stand it. He suffered from frightful headaches, 22 The Death of My Lord Tiger and no less frightful sickness. At last an idea occurred to him ; he made his escape, for a brief moment, from his unstable perch, and appeared to his brother. "Brother Quir," he said, "I am most unhappy. My place is incommodious, and my poor fingers cannot grip My Lord's tail tight enough. I'm everlastingly falling and hurting myself. Take pity on me ! " " What can I do for you ? " " Burn wax tapers before the Buddha Sakya-Muni. Choose the finest and most brilliantly coloured ; and ask the AU- Powerful to grant me repose." " I will do what you wish. Brother Cai"." " The day after to-morrow you must gather together the young men of the village, and catch My Lord." "Brother Cai, isn't it a most impious thing to attack a Lord ? " " This one. Brother Quir, has lived long enough." " I will do your bidding." 23 The Death of My Lord Tiger II Never had My Lord Tiger seemed so devoid of sense. He staggered, he knocked up against tree- trunks, with the bearing of a man in a state of utter intoxication. The souls on his back danced an infernal jig. Cai pulled the lordly tail now left, now right, now up, now down. He did so well that he guided My Lord towards the ditch, whither he was lured by the kid's bleating. But the Lord Buddha doubtless desired not this pleasing animal's death ; a desperate bound lifted the kid out of the ditch, where the crippled tiger alone remained. He proceeded to caterwaul with anguish. And behold, all the beasts came running from every side of the forest. There came a stag who ripped My Lord's hide, a hyena who burst out a-laughing, a wolf who fell to with his teeth, and a crow with his smiting beak. The Tiger was sore beset, and thought 24 The Death of My Lord Tiger he must die. He writhed with agony and shame ; and up came a man with a snickersee ! My Lord stijSened himself, tried to rise upon his feet, and exterminate the impudent creature ; but did not succeed. The snickersee came down thrice, and the old Lord expired. The souls took flight with such energy that the fat ba-gia had two teeth pulled out, and the carpenter lost his wig. Nowadays the old Tigers of the Quang- Tsi will sooner die of hunger than attack Man. Moral : Don't trust one of them ! 25 IV IN THE DRAGON KINGDOM /^NLY during the last four or five genera- tions have men learnt a little more of the singular Dragon Kingdom, whose redoubtable monarch is Vua-long-Vuong. No one, even before that, was ignorant of the marvellous deeds done by the Water- Genie — shipwrecks, sudden spates, droughts, and devastating inundations. Well known was the tragical tale of the lovely Kam-K6ng, enchanted by the Dragon-King, and borne down into his dripping caves ; but no one so far had been able to learn anything of the mysterious kingdom, for those who went thither did not return to relate their experiences. Years passed away. A well-founded fear made every worthy Annamite tremble 27 In the Dragon Kingdom who passed at nightfall by the banks of a river or the sea-side ; but some strong minds there were who derided these super- stitious terrors. When lo and behold ! the genie Vua-long-Vuong got himself talked about afresh. A father and daughter, in their sampan, were crossing the Song-Lo. The father, standing in the stern, steered the boat with a long oar, while the young maiden, crouched laughing in the bows, sang one of those long complaints dear to the sampaniers. From time to time, to lift up the paternal heart, she chanted in saucy tones the working-song of the coolies: "Gio ta! Gio ta ! And thou, the Master of the Moon, thou hast wedded an ancient wife ! I'll come to thee and pull thy beard ! Gio ta ! Gio ta ! And when I descend again to earth, 'she'll be dead, mine aged wife ; I'll wed a youthful one, brand new ! Gio ta ! Gio ta ! " She, Thi-Nam, was thirteen years old. 28 In the Dragon Kingdom Spring made a divine blossom of her crimson lips. A luckless notion, that of hers, to place the thong of her basket around her neck ! A sudden movement of the boat made her lose balance. Thi-Nam fell into the water. She was able, for an instant, to hang by her hands on the edge of the sampan ; but, burdened by the heavy basket which dragged back her head, she quickly let go, and sank. This may seem an ordinary accident. The sequel is more mysterious. The father plunged in after his child, and at first was so fortunate as to seize her. He was stupefied, amazed, to see her laughing and singing as though she were still aboard the boat. He fancied himsielf prey to some horrible nightmare. . . . The flower-lips opened like an unfolding bud: " Gio ta ! Gio ta ! " He took his little one in his arms, but 29 In the Dragon Kingdom could not bring her up to the surface of the waves. She grew heavy, infinitely heavy. And the voice continued, saucily : " Gio ta ! Gio ta ! A brand-new wife, who will make me . . . wear horns ! Gio ta ! Gio ta ! " The genie had taken possession of Thi- Nam. Despite all his efforts, the luckless father could not lift his child from the water, and was forced to abandon her to her ravisher. Once back in the village, he made appeal to certain young men, excellent swimmers, among them one Banh-Mong, Thi-Nam's betrothed. Banh-Mong was very mighty, for he was guided and protected by Love. He plunged into the river. So deep did he dive that he reached the realm of the genie, followed, at some distance, by all his companions. There they found a country resembling 30 In the Dragon Kingdom that situated above the waters. Mountains were there covered with forest, and villages whose inhabitants were fish. They did not find Thi-Nam. Banh- Mong bewailed himself, and with loud out- cries demanded his love. All at once Vua-long-Vuong appeared. " Which wilt thou choose, young man ? Life in day-light without Thi-Nam, or eternal night with thy beloved ? " " I will be with Thi-Nam ! " replied Banh-Mong. " Be happy, then ! " said the genie. The sea-god vanished, taking with him Banh-Mong. The youth's companions be- held him no more, and returned, terrified, to the village of Ban-Han. They had not seen the abode of Vua-long- Vuong, nor the place where he concealed his victims. A certain old man, Thay-Loi by name, learnt more than they. 31 In the Dragon Kingdom Too poor to live in idleness, and too feeble for hard work, he kept ducks on the bank of the Song-Luong. One day he saw a great light, which seemed to come forth from the water, and advance towards the earth. . . . And all at once a magnificent Being stood before him. Old men have experience in their favour ; there is time to learn a thing or two in the course of a long life. Thay-Loi knew how to recognize gods. He recognized the genie, virithout ever having beheld him, by these two character- istic signs : his wide-open eyes stared at the sun without being the least dazzled, and his body cast no shadow. Vua-long-Vuong was accompanied by four dragons with human heads, who sur- rounded old Thay-LoY, and drew him down under water. By means of walking — as on earth — they drew near to Song-Ma. 32 In the Dragon Kingdom Then the genie ordered the old man to cut down some enormous trees. Thay-Loi dared not refuse. He took the hatchet which was handed him, and set to work. A little, mocking voice chanted in the distance : "Gio ta! Gio ta ! And the spider that will drop from the ceilingj and swing at, the end of a long thread above my door, will tell the whole village that I . . . wear horns ! Gio ta ! Gio ta ! " Thay-Loi thought he would have to make mighty exertions. . . . Not at all ! However great the trees' dimensions, three or four blows of the axe sufficed to fell them. No sooner were they down, than rain came, in the nick of time, to form streams which carried them to the Dragon- King's dwelling. Every evening Thay-Loi, his day's work completed, mounted astride on the last D 33 In the Dragon Kingdom felled tree, and reached the gate of the emerald palace. A dragon with phosphorescent eyes then conducted him through grand corridors, and fine saloons sparkling with jewels, to a spacious room hung with blue watered-silk, where Thay-Loi slept on a bed of sea- weed. This went on for four days, after which Vua-long-Vuong permitted the old man to go and rejoin his ducks. He found them just, on the spot where he had left them ; and, though he had neither eaten nor drunk all those four days, he felt better in health than before his departure. Thay-Loi, however, saw neither Kam- K6ng, nor Thi-Nam, nor the others; but, having recognized the small, mocking voice, he thought the maid must be keeping well. Since the genie, moreover, had. treated him civilly — him, Thay-Loi, the needy old fellow— why imagine that the love- 34 In the Dragon Kingdom liest girls of Annam should lack care and attention at the court of Vua-long- Vuong ? It was, of course, Thay-Loi who subse- quently gave this accurate (?) information as to the realm and abode of the Water- Genie. • • • • • It is unseemly in Annam to doubt an old man's word. For " four generations," therefore, the fable I have related has been implicitly believed. • ■ • • • When the Water-Genie shows himself too inhuman and voracious, sacrific^es are offered to appease him — usually rice; fruit, or small coins — after which a magician raises incantations to drive him away. Then Vua-long-Vuong takes refuge with one of his uncles, blind and crippled, but uncommonly powerful, who dwells in a grotto of the Pu-Kun, near Mong-Ha. 35 In the Dragon Kingdom He never stays there very long. The sorcerers whose charms are strongest cannot prevent the genie's return from time to time, along the rivers and the rice-fields, to carry off the beautiful congaies, the fisher- men, or the sampaniers. 86 THE BETEL AND THE ARECA-TREE /"^LOSE by Tourane there is a delicious " corner " of France. That heaven of burning sapphire, is it not our own Mediterranean sky ? Those great marble peaks, reddening under the kiss of the sun, are they not the rose-coloured Esterel ? And that caressing sea, which lazily lies along the coast, is it not the sea of our own Provence ? Here as there palms winnow the golden light, and the scent of the flowering orange- trees has the same intoxicating languor. The joy of " recognizing " this dream- landscape had driven away every homesick thought — those ugly thoughts that seize one at times when far from the Mother-land. 37 The Betel and the Areca-Tree Tired by a long walk, we stretched our- selves on the warm sand ; but an intense thirst, a true oriental thirst, troubled the peace of the hour ; while Phu-lo, our boy, blissfully chewed his betel. Then we, we too, tasted the red, rather repulsive thing. The thirst vanished. We were amazed at the marvel. Phu-Io explained it by this legend : They had been walking for long days, weary and out of heart. Two twin-brothers were they, of equal beauty. . Both had the same slender frame, the same frank look, the same warm, well- toned voice. So much alike were they that their own mother had never known them apart. One was Lang, and one was Cau. Lang and Cau had had a happy childhood. Sons of a mighty mandarin, surrounded with care, honour, and affection, their lot had aroused no little envy. 38 I^ib^^^^^ The Betel and the Areca-Tree All this happiness vanished in disaster. The great fire which ruined the twin youths orphaned them too, and dispersed their friends. Sorrowful, they went their way, unable to give their dead better burial than a heap of blackened cinders. . . . And every gust of wind scattered the sacred dust more widely. Cau and Lang sighed for the past — so near as yet — and marched on towards the future. Great was their weariness, and, despite their spirited youth, their star of hope grew wan. Would they ever find one hospitable soul ? — meet a friend who would help them ? — a just master who would accept their work, to whom they might dedicate their wits, or the strength of their arms ? Lang and Cau followed a narrow path close by the sea. Day was declining, and the sadness of the dying light increased their own melancholy. 39 The Betel and the Areca-Tree I'he wan waves plunged, broke, and spread sobbing along the strand. The grass-hoppers buzzed, forlorn. Heavy-winged and enormous, the moths adventured in the shade of the mangroves, and the fire-flies began their luminous dances. Lang and Cau perceived, amid stunted palm-trees, an assemblage of rustic cabins, heaped and huddled as though in fear, sustaining one another against the attack of some invisible foe, or some monstrous divinity hidden beneath the bitter billows. This was Cua-Han,' a little fishing- village. Among the poverty-stricken roofs, the young men remarked a less primitive dwelling, surrounded by a green hedge. " Brother," said Cau, " wilt thou, yet once again, appeal to a rich man's pity? Shall we enter into that dwelling ? " "Yes, Lang, let us enter. Who knows * Tourane. 40 The Betel and the Areca-Tree whether Destiny have not reserved us here our appointed place ? Moreover, I am at an end of my strength, and my feet to-day will bear me no further." ' " I too am broken by weariness, yet not so deeply as by despair." " Courage, Lang ! " . " Courage, Cau ! Thou sayest well. Leaning the one on the other, we can better endure the strokes of adversity." Lang stretched out his hand ; Cau placed his own in it. A great tenderness shone in the eyes of the twins, and both cried, well- nigh joyously : " Let us go in ! " II They shook the dust from their garments, bathed their bruised, travel-stained feet, and went towards the rich abode. Scarcely had they skirted the binh-phong— the stone screen placed before the door, and decked with cabalistic signs— than they 41 The Betel and the Areca^Tree stood still, spell-bound by an exquisite apparition. Standing on the lower steps of the verandah, a young maiden, clad in white, seemed to centre on herself all the light of the dying day. Slender, with black diamond eyes and swan-neck, with voluptuous shoulders and undulating hips, she was ravishing to look upon. Her taper fingers caressed the single string of a quaint musical instrument, and she murmured in low tones what seemed a rhythmical complaint : " O suUj wherefore dost tliou flee ? AVliitlier goest ? That thou mayst pour out thy iiarinth on other worlds? AVherefore dost allow the uight to extend her long veil? 'Tis the night gives slumber. Why sleep ? To slumber is to die ; when we sleep, we love not. Love, therein is our true life . . . yet I, I know not Love. The ring-dove loves his mate, as My Lord Tiger his. Who shall love me? To him I'll give my heart for ever. Come back, O sun ! Shine on him, show him, him that shall love me, that I may love him ! " 42 ^^Ufi^^tt^^ The Betel and the Areca-Tree Cau and Lang, unmoving, listened to the lovely songstress. No longer were they fatigued, no longer faint-hearted. Ill Six months went by. Lang and Cau were still at Cua-Han. They worked in the house of Giau, the Mandarin. Every day Gi3,u valued more highly the diligence and devotion of the young men. And daily Lang, and daily Cau, watching the fair Thi-Traii knot up her raven hair, thought gravely there was no greater joy than that of dwelling in Giaii's abode. Thi-Trau was dreamy. . . . Her adoring father prayed her to choose a husband among the young sons of mandarins who came to ask her hand. Thi-Trau could not make up her mind. . . . Weeks passed, and months. At length the maiden announced to her father that 48 The Betel and the Areca-Tree she would wed none save one of the two brethren. Lang should be her spouse ... or Cau ; but which of them ? So much alike were they that Thi-Trau never thought of them apart. . . . But one or the other must be chosen. Who was the handsomer, who the wiser, the stronger, the wittier, the better ? Cau possessed every desirable quality. So did Lang. Thi-Trau was a woman ; long since had she divined the ardent love of Lang, the loving ardour of Cau. The virgin gave over to Fate the business of showing the spouse who should be hers ; she would let fall one of her gilded wooden slippers, and he who should bring it her must be her husband. IV That husband was Lang. Lang was infinitely happy. His happi- 44 The Betel and the Areca-Tree ness dazzled him, made him drunk. He saw only Thi-Traii, heard only Thi-Trau, and consequently perceived not Cau's som- bre reddened eyes, and features worn for want of sleep . . . heard not his twin- brother's sighings and woeful sobs. Thi-Trau alone existed in all the world. Cau was in despair. Cau suffered a nameless martyrdom ; the woman he loved could never be his; and Lang, his other self, had not only bereft him of his beloved, but denied him also that brotherly love, so sweet, so profound, which hitherto he had lavished on him. Oh Lang! Oh Thi-Trau 1 And Cau longed to die. . • • • » That autumn eve was soft as a kiss. The sea sang its caressing song. Cau went wandering on the strand, with unkempt locks, with burning brow. Oh to suffer no more 1 To sleep for ever, nor dream of cruel life ! 45 The Betel and the Areca-Tree To feel no more that fiery torrent which coursed in his veins, that mountain of grief crushing his heart in his bosom ! . , . Die, and love no more those heartless beings who loved not, or who forgot ! Cau took the plunge. The flood opened to receive the beautiful slender body . . . but closed not over it. It rocked the dead youth as a mother rocks her new-born child, and softly laid him on the beach. Then the miracle was accomplished. The slim body was transformed into a lovely slender tree ; 'twas the areca. Horrified, meanwhile, Lang and Thi-Traii had beheld the drama, and their locked fingers were unloosened. Lang rushed out on the strand. " Cau, Cau, come back, my brother ! Forgive me ! I have been selfish, 'tis true, but I love thee, oh believe it I ... I have never left off loving thee. Come back, Cau, or take me whither thou art gone ! " The portent was renewed. From the 46 The Betel and the Areca-Tree soil beaten by the salt waves sprang up two splendid areca-trees, one by the other, - mingling the foliage of their magnificent crowns, both alike as fair and proud as Lang and Cau were equal in beauty and in nobility. And Thi-Traii bewailed herself : " Oh, my spouse ! Oh^ my brother ! Why have ye abandoned me ? Would I might die with ye, since 'twaS I who caused your deaths ! " The young wife embraced with her fair arms the trunk of the tree-genie. "May the gods join me for ever with my husband I " She spoke, and her desire was accom- plished. Her slim, supple body grew slimmer and suppler still ; her fingers, her locks, became graceful leaves. Thi-Trau was a liana twining round the areca-tree ; she was a betel-plant. Merciful are the gods. Thi-Tr^u's fleshy 47 The Betel and the Areca-Tree arms embraced in modesty only 'the body of Lang ; her vegetable arms caressed both Lang and Cau. This was in the time of one of the Hung monarchs, a time when so many marvels happened. This king, apparently the third, went to Cua-Han, that he might admire that creeper and those singular trees. The seventh month had stirred the sun's fires. So overwhelming was the heat that the plants were dried up, the beasts crawled painfully about, and men perished beneath the planet's burning rays. The king's bearers themselves could only with great difficulty sustain their majestic burden. The cortege, nevertheless, crossed the Pass of the Clouds, and traversed the high brush amid apathetic tigers, prostrate elephants, and indolent boa-constrictors. It was nearly decimated when it reached 48 The Betel and the Areca-Tree Cua-Han. And immediately the Hung monarch betook himself to the beach. He bathed, made all his escort bathe, and stretched himself wearily under the charming group formed by the trees and the tyvining betel. A burning thirst dried up his throat, and his lips were on fire. Not a tree all around bore fruit to slake the roya Ithirst ! The sea-breeze shook the lofty heads of the two arecas. Amid the lanceolated leaves, the king observed certain green nuts. He ordered that they be gathered for him. This was no easy matter, and the king's servants did not go swiftly to work. . . . The king, in his impatience, began to chew a leaf of betel. It was yet in his mouth when they brought him an areca-nut. 'Twas a revelation! The burning thirst vanished ; the king's lips grew cool and sweet-scented. E 49 The Betel and the Areca-Tree The whole court copied their sovereign, and felt the better for it. When the royal cortege left CuarHan, not one among the servants went heavily and painfully as at their coming. They all went singing, gay and happy, despite the fearful heat about them. • • • • • Don't be surprised if, in memory of that miracle, the Indo-Chinese perpetually chew betel and areca-nuts ! They keep up the old tradition. That betel and those nuts are to them no mere " refreshments " ; they are symbols and emblems. They are images of conjugal love, fraternal love, family love. A branch of betel, twined round^an areca- bough, is given as a symbolical gift by the young man betrothed to his future wife. Could he more gracefully plight his troth ? 50 The Betel and the Areca-Tree Swift twilight darkened the Marble moun- tains. In the sapphire heaven that paled to turquoise, the moon's slender crescent pierced a gauzy violet cloud. We took once more the road to Tourane, H VI SONGS OF BLIND MEN TN the land of Annam almost all the blind are artless wandering poets. They are loved, respected, and what is more, listened to. They are to be met with at the market, by the cross-roads, and along the highway. When the sky darkens in the brief gloaming, when the fireflies streak the darkness, zebra-fashion, with their phos- phorescent flight, when the evening breeze bows with showery sound the ripe rice- plants and bamboos, then the blind men's lament dominates the murmurs of new-born night ; it glides along the river surface like the song of the sampaniers. The child will leave the most engrossing 53 Songs of Blind Men pastime to give the blind man his hand and show him the way. The bhnd are they who spread news from village to village ; it is they who give life to pleasing legends and witty fables ; they who teach — with the most incredible varia- tions — the history of their native land. They are paid with a bowl of rice or tea, with fruit, or a few little coins. I had, down yonder, " my own " blind man. He was an old man, whose brown face contrasted strongly with a thin, white, silky beard. His wrinkles were jovial ones ; but, beneath his palm-leaf hat, his brow was grave as that of a prophet or a bonze. My blind man used to go by at night- fall, as he returned from market. When we heard his characteristic song we would go down to the flowering hedge which enclosed the garden. Phu-Io would carry money for him. The blind man would express his grati- 54 Songs of Blind Men tude in emphatic terms. He would call down on us the blessing of the genii, and would often repeat to us the story he had told to the traffickers of Phu-Cam, his usual audience. Here are some of the complaints and fables chanted by my blind man. VII THE MARKET OF PHU-CAM npHE market of Phu-Cam is a fine market. 'Tis held at the end of the wooden bridge, by the bank of the tawny arroyo. People go thither afoot or in boats. People sell pork there, people sell silk. They sell also rice, and eggs of ducks, manioc, chickens, and fish. Do ye desire golden bananas or acid lemons ? Go to the market of Phu- Cam. There ye will find betel-quids, and cream of pounded haricot-beans, tea freshly in- fused, and the best-rolled cigarettes. There the seller of soup is pretty, and the cleanser of ears adroit. 57 The Market of Phu-Cam Go t© the market of Phu-Cam ! There are, indeed, greater and more magnificent markets. There is that of Dong-ba, that of Han-Keou, that of Gia- Hoi, and that of Kim-Long. But the women of Gia-Hoi leave their blue pots and their copper vessels to come and buy fish at Phu-Cam. All along the clear river and dim arroyo the women of Kim-Long bring their ganhs filled with vegetables. When they return they have strings of pice round their necks and round their shoulders. Those who dwell near the King's Moun- tain come no less ; and the dwellers beyond the Plain of Tombs, near the sepulchres of the Emperors, and further than the Nam-Giao. At the market of Dong-ba there is greater choice of bright-hued silks, there are more combs and bodices. There they marry the Annamite maidens 58 The Market of Phii-Cam to Frenchmen fair and fat ; but at the market of Phu-Cam they sell not the daughters of Annam. There, the plighted lovers alone may walk in the shadow of their beloved ones, and carry the over-heavy baskets. At the market of Phu-Cam both they who buy and they who sell give alms to the blind. May the all-powerful genie of the village of Phu-Cam bless its happy inhabitants ! May the old men behold the sons of their sons ! May the maidens be beautiful and good! May the students be numerous, rtlay they be diligent and successful in the examina- tions ! May the father of the family have rice for his children, and the mother be able to suckle the lesser ones! May the harvest be abundant! The blind man says : To all be thanks ! 59 The Market of Phil-Cam The market of Phu-Catn is held at the end of the wooden bridge, by the banks of the tawny arroyo. The market of Phu- Cam is a fine market ! 60 VIII THE CROAV AND THE PEACOCK /^NE day the Peacock said to the Crow : ^^ "To-day is My Lord Tiger's wedding. How shall we dress to attend the festivities ? " In those days the Crow was white, and the Peacock yellow as a hen. The Crow replied,: " I have a notion ; the King of Annam is having a house built. 'Tis an admirable house ! They are mingling on its walls all the hues of the rainbow. Dragons are there, red and yellow, green and blue. The workmen have gone to eat their rice. Let us go take their colour-pots ! " The Crow proceeded to carry out his notion. The Peacock asked to be painted first, 61 The Crow and the Peacock The Crow, who wished to show his dex- terity, drew moons, gold and green, on the Peacock's feathers, with arabesques of blue and black. The Peacock was gorgeous. He went to gaze at himself in the river, and spread his tail to dry his plumes ; but he thought himself so fine that he went on spreading it, even when his plumes were dry, saying : " Cuong tot ! Cnong tdt / How hand- some am I ! " The Crow cried : " 'Tis thy turn, companion, to show thy cunning ! " The Peacock was vain and jealous. He had no intention of adorning the Crow for My Lord Tiger's wedding feast. Said he : "Didst thou not hear the Eagle's cry? Let us flee ! Let us hide ourselves ! " Feigning extreme haste, he threw himself against the colour-pots, and sent them flying into the river. 62 The Crow and the Peacock " I hear not the Eagle's cry," said the Crow. " 'Twas my mistake. Come and be painted." " The paint is at the bottom of the river." " One pot remains." " Then make haste ! " The Peacock besmeared the Crow with black paint, saying : " Now art thou beau- tiful ! " The Crow went to gaze at himself in the river, and was cruelly disappointed. He wished to bewail himself; but his voice died in his throat, and he cried, most hideously : " Couali ! Couah ! " Since those days, crows have beeti black and hoarse of voice, while peacocks are pied with a thousand hues. They sing none the better for that ! Moral : Beware of false friends. 63 IX THE DAUGHTER. OF KING MINH-TONG "TJ WELLE RS in Phu-Cam, I will tell ye the tale of a pretty princess. She was a king's daughter decked with the loveliest gems. Her fingers knew only the caress of the softest silks ; those long-nailed fingers were covered with rings and nail-cases studded with diamonds. Her throat was adorned with long necklaces of over a hundred golden beads. Everywhere at her passing the Annamites bowed themselves down, with foreheads in the dust,' While the royal musicians accompanied her with sound of flutes and guitars. Happy are the daughters of kings ! * The ancient Annamite law forbade subjects, under paii) of death, to lift their eyes to the king. F 65 The Daughter of King Minh-Tong But now a mighty minister shut up the king in a dark dungeon. That king was Minh-Tong. Minh-Tong was doomed to die of hunger, and the princess was driven from the palace. They took away her ear-rings and golden necklace, And her rings and her bracelets and her nail-cases. Her fingers felt the contact of coarse stuffs. Her nails were broken. The Annamites looked her in the face ! She heard, by way of music, only the wind wailing in the palm-trees. Hapless sometimes are the daughters of kings The princess prayed to see her father. Long was that grace denied her. At length they accorded her the desired permission, But on condition that she took him no food, under pain of death. 66 The Daughter of King Minh-Tong Then the princess dipped her robes in the clear river, And went to the dungeon with moistened dress. And, while she embraced her sire, she squeezed her garments into the poor parched mouth. The king Minh-Tong lived awhile, thanks to his daughter's devotion. All the daughters of Annara would have done no less. For they are, one and all, good and devoted. This complaint, a very popular one, contradicts historical fact. Tr^n-Minh- Tong was a legislator beloved by the people. His father-in-law, falsely convicted of con- spiracy, was condemned to death by hunger. The queen (wife, not daughter, of Minh- Tong) consoled the old man, and alleviated his agonies. 67 X THE GENIE OF THE TAN-VIEN npIME was, when the mighty Genie of the Tan-Vien was only a very wily boy. He dwelt on the shores of the Song-Koi. From an old man he learnt that a dragon dwelt in the depths of the river. Ye know, all of ye, that dragons give power and good fortune to mortals. The Dragon of the Song-Koi could confer kingship and immortality. Those who would obtain these gifts must plunge to the bottom of the Red River. He who desired to reign must make a bundle of his ancestors' bones, and place it in the dragon's mouth. This was no easy enterprise, for he became blind who looked on the dragon. The Genie of the Tan-Vien 'Tis woeful to be blind ! The artful youth made a bundle of his ancestors' bones, and plunged into the Song-Koi. But he was heedful to hide an eye with one of his hands. " If I lose an eye," he thought, " I shall see with the other ; and I shall be a king." He lost one eye, and became a Genie. And now ye know, all of ye, wherefore the Genie of the Tan-Vien has but one eye, and mighty power. 70 XI THE TAILOR OF HUE T-TE was a skilful tailor, the Tailor of ■■■ ■■■ Hue. And, though he knew not the characters of the Tuo-tu-kinh, he knew many other things. Age and good sense had taught him experience. Folk carrie from far and wide to ask his advice. From far and wide, moreover, came the dandies, so that he might fashion, sew, and embroider their costly garments. Beneath the straw-thatched pent-house, the tailor, squatted like a Buddha, composed admirable designs ; birds, flowers, and dragons, which he scattered over the dazzling silks. 71 The Tailor of Hue To all comers he distributed the maxims which are the wisdom of peoples. "to Thi^Ldou the jealous he counselled trust in her husband, and her household became calm. To Thi-Ba the haughty, who " bore her heart in her neck," he spoke thus : " The hen that sings doth not bring up her brood. . . . Beware, O woman, of ceaseless self- exaltation, for fame will rend the garments which she has woven thee." Thi-Ba laughed at his counsels, and time showed that the tailor was right. One day the Prime Minister sought the tailor, and ordered a court-dress. "I will make it, O your Excellency," said the tailor : " 'tis a great honour for me. Here be shining silks, broidered with moons of gold." " Make me a dress of this material." " I will do so, O your Excellency ; but, before I cut the silk, tell me how long you have been in power." 72 The Tailor of Hue " What is that to you ? " " Your Excellency, I am but a poor tailor ; my question is not indiscreet, and cannot injure you ; I ask this information so that the cut of your dress may be perfect." "What has this to do with the cut of my dress ? " " Behold, O your Excellency 1 If you have only recently been favoured vi^ith the king's confidence, you will walk with high- held head and bulging breast. " In such a case, that your dress may sit well, I must make the front folds much longer than those at the back. " If you have been used for some years to your honourable burden, yoiir pride will be the less, and I must cut your garment with equal folds. " But, if the years have fallen, many and weighty, on your shoulders ; if your monarch's numerous caprices and acts of injustice have forced you to bow your 73 The Tailor of HuS head ; if disgust of life has seized on you hke a sickness, and profound thought bent your eyes on the ground where you wUl he some coming day ; then, O your Excellency, you will acknowledge that the front fold of your dress must be shorter than the back. " This, O your Excellency, is the reason why I have seemed in your eyes inquisitive and a gossip. " My excuse is that 1 would fain ac- complish a work which will give you perfect satisfaction!" The Tailor of Hue is dead. 'Tis a great pity, since to him might be sent for cure all the proud — of whom the earth is full ! All the jealous women — and they, alas ! are innumerable ! (M. Pasquier has in part translated this Blind Man's Song.) 74 XII THE BLIND MAN T AM blind. 'Tis a most woeful fate. Twenty years old was I when mine eyes were deprived of light. I knew no longer night nor day. I know there is dawn, white and rosy, a beaming golden sun, and a silvery moon ; I know that at midnight the three stars in the Baldric of Orion gleam forth in mid- most heaven. I know that the birds and butterflies bear the rainbow on their wings. I know that the flowers wear robes woven by the genii's fingers. I know there be women Ipvely as god- desses. But I see nothing here below. 75 The Blind Man Twenty years old was I when mine eyes were bereft of daylight ; and I was but newly wed. My wife was young, my wife was fair. When she unloosed the knot, her hair fell even to her knees. Her eyes shone like the stars. Her brow was smooth, her lips were red ; her lacquered teeth lay close one against another. That' is long, long ago ! And I, I am blind evermore. But, if I see not the birds, I hear them sing. If I see no more the flowers, 1 smell their perfume. If I see the sun no more, I feel its heat ; if I cannot gaze on the splendour of the skies, yet when night is fair, I feel its freshness. They all grow old, the fairest wives. Mine may be frightful, but then I see her not I 76 The Blind Man Years have followed years ; yet my wife, for me, keeps all her charms. I know not whether her locks be white, her form bowed ; if her brow be furrowed, her teeth fallen ; nor whether when she laughs her lips lamentably hang down. My wife, for me, has ever her starry eyes ; for ever her hand has succoured me, and I read not the falsehood on her face. Married men should all be Wind ! Vt XIII HISTORY OF KING TRIIEU-VIET T BORE mine offering to Vong-Xuong,^ whose heavenly palace is to be found in the constellation Dao of the North.^ And I have descended to earth again so that I may tell you the history of King Trieu-Vi§t the holy. O dwellers in Phu-Cam, ye must honour the protecting genii, those who fought to keep us the liberty of lacquering our teeth ; but ye must also remember those who died to save us from civil war. The King Tri§u- Vi§t is one of those. He was a good and powerful king who reigned over our ancestors. But in his realm he had a rival; 'twas Ly-phat-tu. ' The Genie of Literature. » The Great Bear. 79 History of King Trieu-Viet This rival, that he might reign, would have shed all the blood of our ancestors. He declared war against the good King Trigu-Viet. And the good King Tri§u- Vi§t was forced to fight that he might not seem a coward. But he wept. He wept for his dead warriors, and for those whose wounds were red as the flower of the hibiscus, As the flower of the flamboyant. He sent ambassadors to Ly-phat-tu pray- ing for peace. And, to ensure peace, Trieu-Viet gave his daughter in marriage to Ly-phat-tu, And the half of his kingdom. Oh, thank then the good King Tri§u-Vilt, who spared the blood of our ancestors ! Ly-phat-tu was not yet contented. When the charms of the king's daughter began to lose power over his ambitious heart, he began the broil once more. 80 History of King Trieu-Viet He raised an army and attacked the king's warriors. And numerous were the wounded, num- berless the slain. Then the good King Tri§u-Vigt wept over those innocent victims. He commended his country and daughter to the mighty genie, And slew himself that peace might be sure. Huyen-Vu himself came to seek his soul. And bore it to the thdns in a chariot drawn by five winged dragons. The deed of King Trigu-Vi^t is worthy t© be noised over the whole earth ! Q. ^J. XIV THE RICE-GENIE (oNG-LUa). TJE is a gentleman dressed all in green, like the Genie of the Tan-Vien. His flesh is' white as milk. On his head he wears a hat decked with little bells. And the bells tinkle in the breath of the wind. From morn to night he bathes his feet, lest he be too hot. I went to visit him to-day, and this is what he said : " O blind man ! tell the sprightly child to be obedient as I. " Bid the maiden be virtuous, bid the mother be tender, " Bid the man be free-handed, the father kindly. 83 The Bice-Genie {Ong-lua) " I that am a Genie, I obey the hand of mortal man. " I give him my Ufe. " He plants me where he will, and I permit him. " He cuts me, grinds me, crushes me ; he cooks me, he eats me ; nor do I hinder him. " Every day I bear this pain without com- plaint, that man may live and wax in strength. " I am but a little gentleman dressed all in green ; yet, lacking me, the Annamite could not exist. " When the bare-thighed planter-woman throws me into the furrow traced by the black buflFalo, she is wont to sing. I am happy in her toilsome joy. " When I am grown, and the plumes nod over me, I shake the bells on my hat to show my pleasure. " Man cuts me down ; as he cuts, he sings ; and I, 1 do not weep. 84 The Rice-Genie (Ong-lua) " In the cool evenings, 'neath the thatched roof, the mill is set a-moving. Couic / Couic ! " 'Tis the paddy-mill moved by a pretty maid, who chews betel the while, and exchanges sweet words with her affianced. " I, I sing 'neath the pestle that grinds me ; 1 sing well-nigh as loud as the pretty maid and her lover. " When the house-mother throws me into her cooking-pot, she sings ... or scolds her turbulent sons. " I feel not my torments, since I give my life for the Annamite. " 1 am a gentleman dressed all in green ; my flesh is white, and my hat is decked with little bells." This is what Ong-lua, the Rice- Genie, said to me to-day at dawn. 85 XV THE FAMILY Tl^HO is the mother of My Lord Tiger ? ^^ 'Tis Madam Tigress. Who is the mother of the chon-cao, the wild cat ? Again 'tis Madam Tigress. Who is the mother of the panther ? 'Tis still Madam Tigress. And doth this amaze ye, O sons of our ancestors ? Be not amazed at all. When the flowers of the cotton-plant opened in the tenth month, Madam Tigress brought three sons to birth. All three of them were alike, and Madam Tigress was vastly perplexed to know which was the eldest, The eldest, who shouldkeep up family worship. 87 The Family She led them to the banks of the river. Then with a bound she sprang to the opposite bank, and anxiously awaited what her sons would do. They looked one on another, all the three, and proceeded to caterwaul, demanding their mother. But one sprang as he had seen her spring, and, with a bound, was across the stream. He was My Lord Tiger. The second fain would follow his brother. He sprang, but fell amidst the waters, paddled awhile, and only by swimming reached the bank. He was the clion-cao. The third one, a coward, sniffed the liquid sheet, wetted his paws, and drew back, daring neither to leap nor swim. He was the panther. Thus it is in family- life with brothers and sisters, born of the same father, born of the same mother. The one is fair, the other foul. 88 The Family The one is big, the other small. The one is strong, the other weak. The one is brave, the other a coward. The one is honest, the other a rogue. The one is clever, the other stupid. The one is generous, the other grasping. The one is active, the other idle. Say not, when a man does an evil deed, " Such a one is of the Tran family, or of the Mac." " Such a one is a Le, or a Tri." 'Tis an injustice. Is my brother a thief, I myself am but a poor honest man. And I have a right to yourTespect. 89 XVI THE ROCK OF VONG-PHU IZNOW ye the Rock of Vong-Phu? 'Tis a great woman of stone, high on the mountain-top, Hard by Lang-Song. When Trieu-tu-long went to war with the hosts of the Tao, he took with him a brave warrior — Vong-Phii. And his wife, worthy of air admiration, was Dai-La's ^ daughter. Her name was Thi-Vong. Thi-Vong accompanied her spouse on the war-path. She followed the troops, despite the heat of the seventh month, and although her girdle began to grow heavy. Her legs were torn with, the cactus- ' Hanoi'. 91 The Rock of Vong-Phu spines, and her feet with the sharp pebbles strewn on the mandarins' road. She walked through long days, and every night she gave her spouse her bright bosom for a pillow. In all Trieu's army there was no warrior more valiant than VongrPhu. How otherwise ? He had his com- panion's love ! • • • • • But a day came when Thi-Vong was forced to tarry ; for her hour was come. She lay down in the soft grass, to bring her son to light. And the army of Tri#u-tu~long withdrew themselves. When her son had opened his eyes on the light of day, Thi-Vong suckled him, and carried him on her hip. Then she went up on the mountain-top to watch whether the army should return victorious . . . but above all to see her beloved spouse. 92 The Bock of Vong-Phii Days passed by, and Vong-Phu came not back. • • • • ■ Thi-V^ong nurtured her child, who became a man as valiant as his father. But Thi-Vong gazed ever on the plain, watching whether her lord would come. Wealthy men asked her in marriage, unable to believe that a woman young and lovely could live alone. She repulsed them with horror. Never did Vong-Phu return ; he died for the glory of the Dragon ! Thi-Vong stayed so long standing on the mountain that she became a rock, , . . That rock, ye may behold it hard by Lang-Song. . . . In those days there were faithful wives. (M. G. Dumoutier gives a different egend about the Rock of Vong-Phu.) 9a XVII THE BAMBOO "PXCEEDING hot it was to-day, when the sun blazed in the midmost heaven. And I laid me down beside the road, because I was weary. And because a screen of bamboos shed there a slender shadow. The great flies of velvety brown hovered about me, humming in mine ears. I slumbered. And while I slumbered, the biggest of the bamboos, the Wise One, spake thus to me : " During my life-time I am a graceful tree. " My boughs clap together with a noisfe as of rattles ; my foliage sings in the even- ing breeze, 95 The Bamboo "But when I am dead, I am indispen- sable to the Annamite. " With me he builds his house. " With me he weaves his hat. " With me he fashions boats, " And tooth-picks. " He makes with me baskets and burden- carriers, " Couches and cradles, wherein the new- born babe sleeps in shelter from the mosquitoes. "With me, man warms himself; with me, shields himself from the heat, making shady shelters. " I am his dearest friend. "Take me away from Annam, and what will he do, the Annamite ? " But, for all that, the king hath not as yet rewarded my services. " Learn then a lesson from me, O son who listens ! " Dost thou toil for love of thy childreii, thou mayst perchance be thanked. The Bamboo "Dost thou toil for thy friends, maybe they will mock thee. " Dost thou toil for the men thy brothers, perchance they will stone thee. " Dost thou toil for the king, perchance he'll forget thee and let thee starve. "Learn then to toil for thine own satisfaction. " Thy peaceful conscience alone will give thee thy recompense." I awoke, for the bamboo spoke no more ; and I am come, this autumn evening, to bring ye the Wise One's counsel. Forget not the Blind Man of Phii-Cam 1 97 XVII 1 THE RIVAL GENII , 'TpHIS morning the thunder roared. The storm-wind blew vehemently. Ye were frightened, O my sons 1 For ye are wont to fear when the typhoon mows down, even as a rice-haulm, the mightiest trees of the forest. When the arroyo overflows, when the river leaves it^ bed. Ye do well to tremble : the wrath of the genii is at its height. Their stubborn resent- ment mounts to their brains, just as at times the mud rises to the surface of stagnant waters. Ye do well to tremble. The genii use their might for evil, as for good. I cannot — so numerous are they — reckon the generations which divide us from the time 90 The Rival Genii when the King Van-Lang reigned over our ancestors. He had a daughter so fair that all the genii loved her. Son-Tinh, the Genie of the Mountain, and Thuy-Tinh, the Genie of the Sea, met at her palace-gate. They came, the pair of them, to ask the lovely princess in marriage. Each looked on the other ; their eyes shot forth lightnings. Together they went in before Van-Lang. But Van-Lang knew not how to answer them ; he had his daughter summoned. When the princess entered the audience hall, Son-Tinh hid his evil mood with an agreeable smile. Thuy-Tinh, since he retained his sour looks, frightened the princess, who chose the Genie of the Mountain. O all ye who know unhappy love, most dear sons of mine, ye will feel Thuy-Tinh's despair. Ye will know his jealousy. 100 The Rival Genii • He departed with hatred in his soul. He swore to be avenged, to. ravish the young bride from her husband's love. At his command the wedding-feast was troubled. He caused to fall diluvian rains. The furious sea drove back the waters of the river, the river- waters those of the arroyo. Great is the number of our ancestors who were drowned in those awful days. Son-Tinh bore his bride in his arms to his father's house, the Genie of the Tan-Vien. He hastened up to the mountain-t6p, while the spreading inundation covered all the surrounding lands. The Genie of the Tan-Vien took his daughter-in-law into his dwelling, and lent his son his own power. Son-Tinh unchained the most violent winds, which drove back the waters. Son-Tinh let loose the thunder amid the clouds ; the flames of heaven set earth on fire. Earth shook, and was rent asunder. 101 The Rival Genii Axes of stone sprang up from the ravaged soil. The warriors seized upon them. They hurled themselves on the troops of Thuy- Tinh, and slew them in heaps. Thuy-Tinh took refuge beneath the billows, who call him Lord. Peace-bringing Time has not assuaged his eternal hate. Ye know his anguish, O ye my sons, whose love was luckless. As ye dream of your "beloved sister," torn from you by one over-bold, so are there days and nights when Thuy-Tinh dreams of the beautiful princess. Then he goes to war with his happy rival. • • • • , Ye do well to tremble, O my sons, when the typhoon breaks like a rice-haulm the mightiest trees of the forest. When the arroyo overflows, when the river forsakes its bed, then the genii are fighting for their spouse. 102 The Rival Genii Tis not for me, poor blind mortal, to sit in judgment on the conduct of two powerful genii ; but think ye, O my sons, that it becomes them thus to strew the earth with ruins for a lady's lovely eyes ? Does your beloved sister disdain ye, con- temn her, forget her, and peace shall be yours. 103 XIX SONG ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG MAIDEN I HAD my white teeth lacquered that I might win me a hushand. Hou ! cha ! Did the Emperor of China know itj perchance he'd tear them away ! Hou ! cha ! Thus sang one morning Thi-Teu the fair, as she gathered the silk-worm's cocoons from the mulberry trees. Ye heard her, one and all. She was joyous as the air was brisk, as the banana was golden, as the bird was glad of life. A beauteous maid was she, loved by the handsomest youth in all the land. To-night the air is heavy. The bird is sad, for the sky is dark. The banana has 105 Song on the Death of a Young Maiden been trodden underfoot ; and Thi-Teu is dead. A serpent, green and rose-coloured, bit her in the heel. No more will she sing, no more knot up her ebon tresses. No more will she chew the betel which reddens the mouth and scents the breath. Her eyes were like the mirror of calm waters in autumn, her eye-lashes lovely as hills in spring. She is dead ! Her mother bemoans herself, saying : " Whither art thou gone, young maid ? "Thou hast left thy mother, and thy betrothed who loved thee. " Whither art thou gone ? " Who will guide my trembling steps when I shall be old I " Who prepare my rice and tea ? " Thou art dead, who scarce wert born to life. " 'Twas but yesterday I carried thee on 106 Song on the Death of a Young Maiden my hip, but yesterday that I gave thee the breast. " Oh, my daughter ! " Dwellers in Phu-Cam, lament with me Thi-Teu the fair ! She is dead ! Tell me, O my brothers, is life so slight a thing, that a child, healthful in the morning, should be but a corpse at night ? Why should we love it, this transient Ufe ? Wherefore, O ye rich, should ye cling to your riches ? Ye must leave them behind, as the poor must leave their rags. Rather be free-handed and kind. The remembrance of your largesse will hve among the people long after your bodies shall have been borne, laid level, to their last abode. I, the Bhnd Man of Phii-Cam, I shall remember Thi-Teu the fair ; every day she offered me alms ; and I will join my wailing with her mother's. 107 ' Song on the Death of a Young Maiden I shall wail with the weeping women who will follow her coffin. May her soul find the nearest road to Nirvana ! 108 XX HONG-LO THE GIANT ■piCTURE a chaos of the most diabohcal rocks, shutting in a water, infinitely mournful ... all lacquered in faerie fashion by a marvellous moonlight. Here is the Bay of Along, and here all the mystery, all the magic, of Indo-China. In these uneasy waters sleeps a tMiong- cAong, a fearful dragon, the harbinger — and perhaps the instrument — of celestial vengeance. Only the Annamite of most spotless soul, only the purest virgin, dares approach after nightfall those wild shores haunted by the monster. A lovely legend, however, is woven round X09 Hong-Lo the Giant those infernal rocks, that concerning a son of Lac-Long and Au-ki ; Hong-Lo, the giant. Lac-Long, who created our ancestors, threw into the sea a bag holding fifty human eggs ; while Au-ki, motherly and tender, hatched fifty others, thus dowering her children with those most precious qualities which were inherited by the Hung monarchs. The bitter billows washed one egg into the hollow of a rock hung with mosses and sea-weeds. The sun lent his kindly heat, and Hong- Lo was born. He was, in the beginning, a beautiful child, suckled by a hind with horns of gold. Then he became a splendid youth, then a man-god. He had a great brow, locks " whose un- dulations surpassed those of the clouds,"* and eyes " which reflected the sun." His strength was herculean. All the ' Poem by Nguyen-Du. HO Hong-Lo the Giant maidens of the Giao-Chi * were in love with him. Hoan the fair, to win his favour, twined her tresses with flowers ; Lien danced divinely, swaying her hips, and pouting her marble breast. Kim sang sweet songs with crystal voice ; others wept in silence, or died of love. The giant had never loved mortal woman. He lived chaste, amid healthful Nature, feed- ing on fishes or on fruits. Every night he spread his nets in the sea among the rocky hollows ; every morning gathered in frisky silver fishes. By day he hunted, thus freeing the country from fierce beasts. One morning he met in the woods a young tigress, with supple spine, with fell of tawny gold, who bounded away when he drew near. He set off in pursuit. The young tigress 1 Oiao-Chi (spread-toes), name of the primitive Aunamite tribe, lU Hong-Lo the Giant redoubled her speed and agility ; Hong-Lo grew desperate . . . He ran, he leapt the ditches, he tore his face in the lianas ; he beat down back-handed the hindering trees, but did not succeed in seizing the tigress of golden fell. The day declined. Hong-Lo was ex- hausted. He managed, notwithstanding, to drive the tigress into a cleft among the rocks. Only a little dexterity — and the beast would be captured. Hong-Lo waited a moment, then cauti- ously stole up to the rock. He drew near to a narrow fissure, and looked in. He was amazed at what he saw. A very old woman— Au-ki, perhaps— lay stretched on a bed of fern, while the young tigress, standing upright, held half-opened her tawny fell. . . . She let it drop to the ground . . . She was now a young maiden, " neither ugly nor beautiful," but infinitely graceful and modest. 112 Hong-Lo the Giant She knelt down beside her ancestress. " Oh, grand-dame, how scared I have been ! " " How anxious, Sen, was 1 1 " " I was seeking thy food, grand-dame, and I met a giant who drove and pursued me." " Poor darling !— and 'tis for me that thou dost daily risk thy life ! Heaven will reward thy devotion." " My devotion, grand- dame ! 'Tis no devotion; I love thee. . . . But what art thou to eat ? I have next to nothing . . . and the giant is hard by I " " 1 will fast, my child. 'Tis not meet that the Princess Sen be recognized." . . . "Poor little princess!" she added, drawing down to her breast the young maiden's head ; " so young, yet so un- happy ! " " I'm not unhappy being with thee." " Ah, but thy wicked brother will kill thee if he discovers thee. . . . He has I 113 Hong-Lo the Giant shrunk from no crime that he may reign alone." " He will not find me, grand-dame ; I am well hidden. There is but this giant who chased me so madly. . . . Ha, ha ! how droll it is ! He thought to pursue a tigress ! " " And if he had hurt thee ? " " He would not have hurt me. Had he taken me, 1 should have thrown off my hairy dress. . . . 'Twas therefore I was so alarmed, I am glad not to have been re- duced to such straits. . . . This giant runs fast, grand-dame, but I run faster than he. . . . Fain would I know whether he is gone ! " Sen thrust forward her head to the rift in the rock. Hong-Lo hid himself in a bush. He could still see the maiden who, think- ing him gone, went fearlessly to and fro. " Thou wilt have but a Uttle rice to-night, grand-dame. I could not bring thee the fruits that I wished to gather." Sen waited respectfully on her ancestress, 114 Hong-Lo the Criant When the ancient woman had finished her meal the Uttle princess ate what was left ; then, weary with her long race in the sun- shine, stretched herself on a heap of dry grass, and fell asleep. . . . Then the giant went his way. But every evening he returned. Long would he gaze on the maiden, frail and wan, caressed by a moonbeam amid her slumbers. . . . Then, when this lovely vision no longer sufficed him, he grew bolder, and went thither by day ; but was careful to hide in the thickets near by. Sen would appear on the heights of the rocks, clad again in her tawny fell. And Hong-Lo was glad at once, and grieved because he knew the young tigress's secret. The princess, every morning, was amazed by a fresh surprise. She found near her cavern beautiful fish, enclosed in a net of twdsted lianas, savoury fruits, quarters of venison, or cakes of gluey nep. 115 Hong-Lo the Giant And every day with fervent heart she thanked the unknown good genie who cared for her. II Meanwhile the maidens of the Giao-Chi pursued the giant with their attentions. After repeated rebuflfs they took counsel together. Up spake Hoan : " Since the giant will have none of us for a wife, 'tis that he loves a woman in secret." " We must know that woman," answered Li6n. " I hate her ! " cried Kim in savage tones. " Not more than I i " said Li§n. " Not more than I ! " cried angry Hoan. The daughters of the Giao-Chi are very cunning when they love. They spied on the disdainful giant, and discovered the princess's retreat. One night, while Hong-Lo was spreading 116 Hong-Lo the Giant his nets, they laid in wait for Sen, and seized upon her. With cries of victory, they tore off her tiger-skin covering. Hoan made a grimace : " Fie ! she is not beautiful ! " " She's too small," said Lien. " Her mouth is too large, and her lips over thick," chimed in Kim. " No matter ! Since Hong-Lo loves her, she shall die I " In vain did the princess assure these wicked wenches that she knew nothing of the giant's love. They surrounded her, led her to the sea-side, bound her hands and feet with rattan-withes, and hurled her into the deep. All night Hong-Lo, devoured with anxiety, sought in vain for a glimpse of the maiden. Helpless and heart-broken he listened to the grand-dame's wailings. Day dawned. The force of habit— 117 Hong-Lo the Giant or the will of the genii — impelled the giant to the sea-side. He drew up his nets. What was his amazement, his grief, to find, wrapped in the close meshes, the white body of little Sen ! He seized the princess in his arms, tried to warm her with his breath, to revive her with his caresses. Since all was in vain, he lifted up the maiden, and bore her into his dwelling, sheltered from the winds, where, that he might tend her the better, he laid her on the bed of sea-weed and moss. The murderesses beheld with scorn the youth's pathetic care. When he gently replaced the princess in the net, and raised her on his shoulder, they clung to the meshes, and let themselves be dragged, adding all their weight to the giant's burden. Hong-Lo went painfully. He sprang from rock to rock, sustaining with sinewy 118 Hong-Lo the Giant arm the enormous weight, and feigned not to perceive the presence of the guilty women. Having reached the midst of the Bay of Along, and set his foot on a great rock, he suddenly shook the net. The wretched girls, losing hold, fell into the water, and were instantly snapped up by the croco- diles. The movement cost Hong-Lo a pro- digious effort — the girls were heavy with hatred — and his foot sank deep into the rock. Aided by good and powerful genii, Hong- Lo was so fortunate as to bring the princess back to life, and she rewarded him with her hand. They loved each other as people loved in those happy times ; as nowadays they love no longer. They took the good grand-dame home to them, and lapped her in tender care. She had thus the joy of beholding her grand- 119 Hong-Lo the Giant daughter's sons, strong -and handsome as their father, sweet and loving as their mother. Sen's brother, the wicked Cao, did his best to recapture his sister ; but when he came down to the shore the thUong-cuong seized and devoured him. • • • • • Possibly you doubt the truth of this Wondrous adventure ? Only go to the Bay of Along, when the moon, fabulously brilliant, seems to quicken the fantastic rocks. As Phu-Io showed it to me, so to you will be shown the gigantic imprint of Hong- Lo's foot. The breeze which rattles, with sword-like clashings, the stiff foliage of the palm-trees, will bring you the confused lamentations of the maidens of the Giao-Chi, who seek still for eternal rest. Perhaps, in the faded emerald sky, you will see standing out the profile of the 120 Hong-Lo the Giant redoubtable dragon, or fancy you catch a glimpse of the Princess Sen gliding between the rocks. . . . Then you will doubt no longer, but, like me, believe in the legend. 121 XXI BA THE BUFFALO-HEUIJ To my Daughter "DA was a happy child. His father pos- sessed a bright mansion on the shores of the Lagoon of Lang-Cau, a garden enclosed by a hibiscus hedge with blood-red flowers, and a herd of buffaloes, which a little servant, night and morning, led down to bathe. Often would Ba, like a lithe little serpent, creep along by the hedge. He would squat down beside the herdsman, and watch for long hours the singular troop, whose horned heads could alone be seen on the surface of the blue water. 123 Ba the Buffalo-Herd He would listen, enchanted, to the herds- man's tales, fantastic stories of the Ma, stories old as Annam itself He learnt to distinguish the Ma-Ra, the water-genii, from the Ma-Xo, the genii of the mountains and forests. In order not to displease the spirits, Ba always spoke of them most respectfully as " Ong-Ma" as who should say "My Lord the Devil." But, better than his bright mansion, better than his black buiFaloes, better than all the marvellous stories, Ba loved his pretty Mamma. For she was very beautiful, and (what is more) very kind, that Mamma of his. Tall and very slender, she was always smiling with her red lips and pearly teeth. She smiled, polishing her rosy nails ; she smiled, jingling her rings and bracelets ; she smiled, brushing her long locks ... so long that they could not be entirely con- 124 Ba the Buffalo-Herd fined in the " cai-cdn," but a tress must ever escape to caress thie slim, amber-hued neck. She smiled still, playing with her darling son. She knew pretty songs, soft, lulling songs. To hear his Mamma sing, Ba would go to her, pretending to be very sleepy, and the young mother would take the little one on her knees. She would murmur in a crystalline voice : " Bo'ng, bo'ng, bang ! Sleep, my child, sleep in mine arms ! " Then, dreaming aloud : " Sleep, my cbild, my well-beloved Ba, blossom that Buddha let fall from Paradise. I love thee. I love thee, for thou art life of my life, blood of my blood. , I love thee, for thou art fairest among the children of Annam. \ I love thy bright eyes, thy long silken lashes. Sleep, sleep, my little one ! Like a frolicsome kitten dost thou play with the golden beads of thy mother's necklace ; thou laughest, showing thy tiny white teeth. Bo'ng, bo'ng, bang ! 125 Ba the Buffalo-Herd The sun is burning, at its height. He is weary, my son, even as the young palm-tree, whose brow grows heavy under the storm-wind's caress. Bo'ng, bo'ng, bang ! When thou art a man, wilt thou not be good.' Thou wilt give rice to the wretched, and stretch forth thy hand to lead the blind man across the brook. Bo'ng, bo'ng, bang ! Be the benediction of the Tien on thy head, O my son ! May happiness spring up under thy feet ! May thy mother weep all tears away, leaving none for her son to shed ; O mighty Buddha, watch over my son ! Bo'ng, bo'ng, bang ! " Ba ended by going to sleep, and his mother sat still as a statue lest she should wake him. Little Ba was a happy child, II Then he was a most unhappy one. Two autumns went by, and a genie entered the bright mansion. He brought the fever. That wicked fever struck down the pretty Mamma. Poor little Mamma ! She shivered for three days, and then died, so that she might go to Nirvana. 126 Ba the Buffalo-Herd One cannot, alas ! take one's children to Nirvana ; one must go thither alone. And Ba was left to his glief. He wandered about like a soul in pain, everywhere seeking his Mamma's pearly smile, and finding it no more. A day came when his father brought home a second wife. Anxiously Ba looked at her. . . . Had his Mamma come back ? No ; for this second wife was fat and coarse, and talked very loud, in a shrill voice. She scolded early, she scolded late. Ba was very much frightened, and hid himself in the darkest corners. One day the stepmother dragged the child roughly from his hiding-place. " Lazy-bones ! " she cried, " what dost thou there? Go loose the buffaloes, and lead them to the lagoon ! " Ba was amazed. This was work for the X27 Ba the Buffalo-Herd servant, and not for him, the eldest son of the house. His stepmother soon tore him from his reflections.; brutally she thrust him out, pulling with all her might at the little tuft of hair which his mother once plaited so lovingly. Ba went down to the lagoon. Ba, from that morning, was a herder of buffaloes. He went out at dawn, carryhig with him a little rice. He endured the oppressive heat of day. No longer had he that sweet mother-bosom to sleep in . . . and he cried bitterly, did poor Ba. • At night the stepmother made him sleep with his buffaloes. The kindly beasts drew close to him, and licked him gently with great red tongues. . . . Then Ba climbed on the back of one among them, stretched himself out on the warm 128 Ba the Buffalo-Herd croup, and went to sleep, wearily, with dreams fuU of sobs. He was very wretched, little Ba. Why did his Mamma not come to fetch him? With her, he would be so happy I Ba envied a little sister dead before his own birth; -Thi-Hai must be with their joyous, smiling Mamma. . . . But where were they ? In the dark forest where the lianas flourish ? In the clear waters of the lagoon ? In silver moon or golden sun ? Ah ! if he knew but where to find them, how soon he would set off! One night Ba was weeping in dreams, as was his habit. The buffalo on which he lay felt the little body start. All un- conscious, the child leant over . . . was about to tumble. The buffalo foresaw the fall, and tried to prevent it. The good creature's clumsy movement brought about disaster; one of the steely horns pierced K 129 Ba the Buffalo-Herd the sleeper's belly, wounding him mor- tally.' The blood flowed, hot and crimson, even as the tears had flowed, burning and limpid. Ba suffered no longer. Ba was happy ; he had gone to his pretty Mamma. But Buddha avenges the innocent. In the self-same place where the blood flowed and the tears dripped, the mighty god made a spring gush forth. The spring ran through the garden, and poured itself into the lagoon, bathing the roots of the hibiscus. It flowed, it warbled, the shining spring, on its bed of golden pebbles, saying in its own tongue : " Be thou accursed, O cruel step- dame ! ' The young buffalo-herdsmen of Annam practise the dangerous habit of sleeping on the croup of their favourite beast. When disturbed by an insect, the buffalo will move hastily to get rid of the nuisance, and the boy is often disembovrelled by the sharp horns. 130 Ba the Buffalo-Herd " Be thy sufferings sevenfold greater than those thou didst inflict on the little Ba! " Be thou accursed ! Thy daughters shall deride thy wrinkles, thy ruined teeth, thy tow-like^ hair, thy skin harsh as a croco- dile's ! " The stepmother, hearing the song of the brook, fled away in terror. Then the hibiscus plants, one and all, shook their blood-red blossoms. " Be thou accursed, O heartless woman ! Thou shalt survive thy sons, and remain alone like the yellowing leaf left hanging on the tree, whose green leaves have fallen first." The turtle-dove cooed, " Be thou ac- cursed ! " And the bat, by night, brushed the evil woman with its black wing, crying in its scrannel voice, " Be thou accursed ! " • A curse peculiarly terrible in a country where white hairs are held in special veneration. 131 Ba the Buffalo-Herd III Amid the cool shades of an ideal Nir- vana, Ba lies asleep in his mother's bosom. Tenderly, as of old, the young matron murmurs in her musical voice : ' Bo'ng, bo'ng, bang ! Sleep, my son, sleep ! " 182 XXII THSING-KOU TN the time of the Duong, when the Son of Heaven bowed Dai-La and Phu-Xuan beneath his sway, there stood, north of the river Nhi-ha, a certain village, where dwelt a marvellously beautiful maiden : Thsing- Kou. A rich mandarin, who wished to marry her with his son, obtained permission, after the old custom, to see his future daughter- in-law " bared of all veils." The young maid came at her father's command. Throwing off with lofty gesture the last garment which covered her, free of false shame as of immodesty, she showed her virginal body. 133 Thsing-Kou The mandarin was dazzled. Never had he beheld so many assembled perfections. Enchanted, he admired the long silken tresses, the brilliant eyes, the dainty mouth, the dazzling teeth, the firm breasts fault- lessly modelled, the hips Avide as those of a mature woman, the gracefully formed legs — the fingers, above all, with their patrician nails, and the tiny feet ... so tiny that Thsing-Kou, to keep a precarious balance, had to lean on the shoulders of two serving- women. The old mandarin realized what a "source of felicity" such a spouse would be for his son; and the marriage was agreed on. It was celebrated with all the usual pomp. Thsing-Kou took leave of her mother with the " customary lamentations. ' When at last the rites wepe concluded the procession set out for the nuptial dwelling. 134 Thsing-Kou Alone in her palanquin, the young wife was shaken by fear. " What is he, my destined husband ? Is he handsome ? Will he be kind ? " Thsing-Kou was no less virtuous than fair. Knowing her duty, she vowed before her an- cestors to die rather than stain her honour, which was theirs also ; that of the illustrious family she was leaving, and the family no less illustrious which she was about to enter. She would give herself to Kouan-Tu, and be ever faithful to him. The cortege stopped. The journey was done. The palanquin was placed in the most retired chamber of the dwelling. The kinsmen and friends withdrew, ex- pressing their good wishes for the youthful husband's happiness. Despite all Kouan-Tu's confidence in the paternal taste and penetration, he stood 135 "^ ^'^^ ■- • " '"■' " -' '■■'-■■' --.^..-'^i^ Thsing-Kou hesitating a moment ere he detached from his neck the miniature golden key which was to open for him the conjugal paradise. She was his wife, this Thsing-Kou, his first, much-honoured wife, who — it was to be hoped ! — would ere long give him his eldest son, followed by many another. . . , What if this wife were not to please him ? Kouan-Tu was a judge of fair women. He was an assiduous frequenter of the most famous tea-houses, the most sumptuous flower-boats. . . . Was Thsing-Kou beauti- ful indeed ? His hesitation did not last long. With feverish haste he detached the golden key, opened the door of the palanquin, and stretched forth his hand, . , , Thrice did Thsing-Kou prostrate herself ; then arose with a movement full of grace and pobility. Oh, a beautiful wife ! . , , Kouan-Tu, hke his father, stood dazzled before so many charms. 136 'ifii