# Wonder Tales from Tibet/The Strange Adventure of Schalu's Wife

TALE SIX
THE STRANGE ADVENTURE OF SCHALU'S WIFE
For several years Schalu reigned over his new-found kingdom, quietly, wisely and well, ably advised and assisted by his faithful friend, Saran. His people loved him, and there was happiness and prosperity throughout the land. One day a group of men stood without the council chamber and begged an audience with the Khan. Schalu graciously admitted them and asked what it was they desired.
"Sire," said they, "we are come from the people to ask you a boon, not so much for ourselves as for your Majesty. These many years you have been with us, and yet you have not taken unto yourself a wife, and we wish mightily that you would ​wed some princess and so fill your home with happiness, and perchance give us a son to love and look to as our future ruler."
This saying pleased the Khan, and he inquired about all the princesses in nearby kingdoms, declaring that he would set about at once choosing a royal wife. After that he spent many days visiting other countries and meeting princesses and great ladies from far and near; but not one of these lovely maidens entirely pleased him or made him feel that she alone out of all the world was the one for him. This damsel had a voice too sharp; that one's temper was too quick; the other seemed cold and indifferent,—and so it was. Day after day the people expected tidings of a royal marriage, and day after day, with keen disappointment, they watched the Khan ride back to his palace alone and dejected.
At last, when Schalu was returning after ​another fruitless journey into a far land to visit a lady of great renown, he happened to pass a small house on the outskirts of his kingdom. And standing in the doorway was the most beautiful damsel his eyes had ever looked on. She was tall and slim, with long, black hair reaching almost to her ankles. Her eyes were big and black as midnight, and her lips were red. Moreover, there was a soft magic in her face, a something so lovely that the Khan stood spellbound, gazing at her in silence for a long time. Then, all at once, he realized that this cottage girl, in her simple work-a-day frock, was the one woman in all the world that he wanted for his wife. No more looking about for princesses and grand ladies! He had found what he longed for, and he would make this damsel his queen.
The matter was soon settled, for was not the Khan's word law in the land? A great marriage feast was held in the palace, holidays were proclaimed throughout the land ​and there were revelry and mad rejoicing among all the people. If there were any to murmur against the lowliness of the new queen, their voices were quickly drowned by shouts of approval from those who had been fortunate enough to look at the beautiful face of the bride, and when the days of festivity were over, everybody settled down in peace and contentment, feeling that their Khan was at last to have a happy home life.
But it was far otherwise. Though Schalu loved his queen with all his heart, though he showered riches and treasures upon her, and though he racked his brain to find amusements and pleasures to make her happy, she only looked upon him coldly and strangely and grew ever paler, quieter and apparently more sorrowful every day. In vain the Khan besought her to tell him what he could do to please her and to win her love; in vain he tried to find out whether she had any secret cause of woe,—he could do nothing. And day ​by day he became more disappointed and unhappy. It grieved the courtiers and the people to see this, but above all it grieved Saran, his faithful friend, until at last he could stand it no longer and, going to Schalu, he said:
"My dear Master, my heart is nigh dead within me to see you, the best of men and of monarchs, so sorrowful. I pray you, let me advise you! It seems to me, Sire, that the queen must bear some hidden grief in her heart, else she would surely give you her love. Perhaps, if we could discover what her trouble is, we could cure it and make her the loving wife you so desire."
"Saran, my friend," said the Khan wearily, "have I not tried every means in my power to win the queen's love and confidence—and all to no avail?"
"Then let me try," said Saran eagerly, "for my heart tells me I shall succeed even where my royal master has failed."
"Very well," said Schalu, but he spoke without hope or interest.
​From that moment, wearing the "invisible" cap, Saran watched the queen day and night, unknown to her. He neglected food and sleep that he might follow her continually, but she gave no hint at any time, by word, look or deed, of any hidden cause of sorrow. Saran was about to give up in despair when, one evening, he noticed a peculiar restlessness in the lady. She looked often at the sky, moved uneasily about the palace and seemed in an absent, dreamy state of mind. At last she retired to her own rooms, soon to emerge dressed in a long black mantle and hood which hid her face almost completely. Silently, and with many an uneasy look behind her, she made her way to a small, seldom used, back gate in the palace garden and thence out into the highroad. Once there, she vanished in the twinkling of an eye, and Saran, looking frantically in all directions, could find no trace of her. He dashed back into the palace, seized the ​magic boots from their hiding-place, tugged them on and muttered his wish:
"Take me wherever the queen is!"
For a moment the wind sang in his ears and the stars sped by him; then he found himself on earth again and walking in a beautiful, strange garden. Never had he smelled such fragrance or seen such profusion of flowers as these that were dimly visible in the moonlight! Paths led in many directions between rows of gorgeous bloom, and down one of them he could make out the faint outline of the queen in her long, black robe. He went on quickly and silently. She approached a palace which stood at the end of the garden, entered through a small gate, and hurried along a short, narrow passageway into an open court. Saran followed, still wearing the magic cap, and soon found himself in a brilliantly lighted room, rich beyond words and filled with a soft, smoky incense which rose in clouds from a brazier standing in a corner. So interested was he in ​looking about him that he quite forgot the queen for a moment and was astonished to see her step forth into the light, clad, not in her long, dark robe, but in flame-colored silk, embroidered with gold and precious stones. She approached the brazier and waved her arms slowly over it, muttering strange words in a hard, monotonous voice. Scarcely had she ceased speaking and dropped her hands to her side when in through the window flew a bird of gorgeous plumage. It darted three times through the smoke of the incense and then disappeared in a flash of light, and in its place appeared a tall, handsome man, dressed in rich garments like a prince. He looked angrily at the queen, who still stood gazing at the brazier, nor did she even glance at him as he said:
"Have you done as I bade you?"
She shook her head.
"What?" said he, stamping his foot. "After all my careful teaching, does the Khan still keep his natural form and the ​power of pouring gold from his mouth? Have I not given you fame and wealth and taught you magic only upon condition that you would destroy your husband?"
The unhappy queen covered her face with her hands. I cannot do it!" she whispered. "Transform the Khan into a dog and take from him all his magic powers! I cannot, cannot do it!"
"And why not, pray?" asked the strange man with a mocking laugh. "You do not love the Khan! I have, by my magic, made that impossible."
Saran, watching and listening from a near corner, let slip an exclamation of wonder. "So that is it!" he thought. "She is kept from loving her husband by wicked magic!"
Both the queen and the stranger started at the sound, but on looking around, could see nothing, for Saran, of course, still wore his "invisible" cap.
"Enough of this!" cried the man at length, after he had waited in vain for the ​queen to answer his question. "To-morrow I will take matters into my own hands. In the form of a snake I will seek the Khan and cast a spell upon him. Thereafter he will be completely in my power."
The queen turned toward him imploringly, but like a flash he had changed himself into a bird again and was gone through the open window.
Slowly and sorrowfully the queen turned away from the glowing brazier, caught up her black robe and put it over her shoulders. As Saran followed her out to the beautiful garden, he could hear her softly crying, and his heart grew big with pity for her and anger at the strange man whom he now knew to be a wicked demon.
The next day Saran ordered a great fire to be built in the council hall, and he bade Schalu and his queen sit before it. While they were so doing, into the hall crept a great ugly serpent, green and slimy and loathsome to look on. He raised his head high and fastened his evil eyes upon ​Schalu, and the Khan became white and motionless and looked like one dead. The snake swayed to and fro, muttering strange words, but before his spell was ended, Saran had fallen upon him and was beating his head with a huge staff. Then the serpent turned and attacked Saran, and mightily they fought together at the edge of the great fire. Sometimes Saran would nigh fall into the flames, and sometimes the wicked demon, and great was the noise of their cries and shouting. At last the great serpent made a sudden, unexpected turn, glided under Saran's arm and plunged at Schalu. In one breathless moment he would have reached him, but with a cry the queen jumped forward, cast her arms around the snake's hideous green neck and flung him from her into the fire. A great smoke arose, and with a scream an ugly demon leaped from the midst of the flames and flew out through the window, leaving his snake form behind him, smoldering in the ashes!
"Yes, indeed!" said the Siddhi-kur with a little laugh. "The wicked demon lost all his power over the queen after that and never troubled her or her husband again. And she proved to be a most loving and dutiful wife, and they all lived happily together for the rest of their days."
"Saran should have had a lovely wife, too," said the Prince thoughtfully, beginning to move on again.
"Wait a bit, my friend," said the Siddhi-kur, "you may add to the story as you wish, by yourself, as you journey onward! As for me, I am off for the cool grove beside the garden of ghost children, for you have broken silence again on your way home, and I am free once more!"
With a shout of joy he leaped from the magic sack and dashed off toward the ​north, where his mango tree stood awaiting him.
The Prince sighed wearily. "Oh, how stupid I am!" said he. "But I will get the Siddhi-kur even yet, and carry him to my master, Nagarguna, if I have to spend the rest of my life in doing it!"
And so it came about that in a few days the Khan's son was again journeying back toward the cave of Nagarguna bearing upon his back the Siddhi-kur.
"Friend," said that creature of magic, at length. "I have just bethought me of a marvellous tale which I am minded to tell you. You may listen or not, as you wish; for me, at least, it will make the way and the hours seem shorter. The name of this story is 'The Fortunes of Shrikantha.'"