The Goldsmith's
Fortune
Once upon a time
there was a goldsmith who lived in a certain village where the people were as
bad and greedy, and covetous, as they could possibly be; however, in spite of
his surroundings, he was fat and prosperous. He had only one friend whom he
liked, and that was a cowherd, who looked after cattle for one of the farmers
in the village. Every evening the goldsmith would walk across to the cowherd's
house and say: 'Come, let's go out for a walk!'
Now the cowherd
didn't like walking in the evening, because, he said, he had been out grazing
the cattle all day, and was glad to sit down when night came; but the goldsmith
always worried him so that the poor man had to go against his will. This at
last so annoyed him that he tried to think how he could pick a quarrel with the
goldsmith, so that he should not beg him to walk with him any more. He asked
another cowherd for advice, and he said the best thing he could do was to go
across and kill the goldsmith's wife, for then the goldsmith would be sure to
regard him as an enemy; so, being a foolish person, and there being no laws in
that country by which a man would be certainly punished for such a crime, the
cowherd one evening took a big stick and went across to the goldsmith's house
when only Mrs. Goldsmith was at home, and banged her on the head so hard that
she died then and there.
When the goldsmith
came back and found his wife dead he said nothing, but just took her outside
into the dark lane and propped her up against the wall of his house, and then went
into the courtyard and waited. Presently a rich stranger came along the lane,
and seeing someone there, as he supposed, he said:
'Good-evening,
friend! a fine night to-night!' But the goldsmith's wife said nothing. The man
then repeated his words louder; but still there was no reply. A third time he
shouted:
'Good-evening,
friend! are you deaf?' but the figure never replied. Then the stranger, being
angry at what he thought very rude behaviour, picked up a big stone and threw
it at Mrs. Goldsmith, crying:
'Let that teach you
manners!'
Instantly poor Mrs.
Goldsmith tumbled over; and the stranger, horrified at seeing what he had done,
was immediately seized by the goldsmith, who ran out screaming:
'Wretch! you have
killed my wife! Oh, miserable one; we will have justice done to thee!'
With many
protestations and reproaches they wrangled together, the stranger entreating
the goldsmith to say nothing and he would pay him handsomely to atone for the
sad accident. At last the goldsmith quieted down, and agreed to accept one
thousand gold pieces from the stranger, who immediately helped him to bury his
poor wife, and then rushed off to the guest house, packed up his things and was
off by daylight, lest the goldsmith should repent and accuse him as the
murderer of his wife. Now it very soon appeared that the goldsmith had a lot of
extra money, so that people began to ask questions, and finally demanded of him
the reason for his sudden wealth.
'Oh,' said he, 'my
wife died, and I sold her.'
'You sold your dead
wife?' cried the people.
'Yes,' said the
goldsmith.
'For how much?'
'A thousand gold
pieces,' replied the goldsmith.
Instantly the
villagers went away and each caught hold of his own wife and throttled her, and
the next day they all went off to sell their dead wives. Many a weary mile did
they tramp, but got nothing but hard words or laughter, or directions to the
nearest cemetery, from people to whom they offered dead wives for sale. At last
they perceived that they had been cheated somehow by that goldsmith. So off
they rushed home, seized the unhappy man, and, without listening to his cries
and entreaties, hurried him down to the river bank and flung him--plop!--into
the deepest, weediest, and nastiest place they could find.
'That will teach him
to play tricks on us,' said they. 'For as he can't swim he'll drown, and we
sha'n't have any more trouble with him!'
Now the goldsmith
really could not swim, and as soon as he was thrown into the deep river he sank
below the surface; so his enemies went away believing that they had seen the
last of him. But, in reality, he was carried down, half drowned, below the next
bend in the river, where he fortunately came across a 'snag' floating in the
water (a snag is, you know, a part of a tree or bush which floats very nearly
under the surface of the water); and he held on to this snag, and by great good
luck eventually came ashore some two or three miles down the river. At the
place where he landed he came across a fine fat cow buffalo, and immediately he
jumped on her back and rode home. When the village people saw him, they ran out
in surprise, and said:
'Where on earth do
you come from, and where did you get that buffalo?'
'Ah!' said the
goldsmith, 'you little know what delightful adventures I have had! Why, down in
that place in the river where you threw me in I found meadows, and trees, and
fine pastures, and buffaloes, and all kinds of cattle. In fact, I could hardly
tear myself away; but I thought that I must really let you all know about it.'
'Oh, oh!' thought
the greedy village people; 'if there are buffaloes to be had for the taking
we'll go after some too.' Encouraged by the goldsmith they nearly all ran off
the very next morning to the river; and, in order that they might get down
quickly to the beautiful place the goldsmith told them of, they tied great
stones on to their feet and their necks, and one after another they jumped into
the water as fast as the could, and were drowned. And whenever any one of them
waved his hands about and struggled the goldsmith would cry out:
'Look! he's
beckoning the rest of you to come; he's got a fine buffalo!' And others who
were doubtful would jump in, until not one was left. Then the cunning goldsmith
went back and took all the village for himself, and became very rich indeed.
But do you think he was happy? Not a bit. Lies never made a man happy yet.
Truly, he got the better of a set of wicked and greedy people, but only by
being wicked and greedy himself; and, as it turned out, when he got so rich he
got very fat; and at last was so fat that he couldn't move, and one day he got
the apoplexy and died, and no one in the world cared the least bit.
[Told by a Pathan to
Major Campbell.]
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