An old couple once lived in a hut under a of palm trees, and they had one son and one daughter. They were all very happy together for many years, and then the father became very ill, and felt he was going to die. He called his children to the place where he lay on the floor—for no one had any beds in that country—and said to his son, ‘I have no of cattle to leave you—only the few things there are in the house—for I am a poor man, as you know. But choose: will you have my or my property?’  
‘Your property, certainly,’ answered the son, and his father nodded.
 
‘And you?’ asked the old man of the girl, who stood by her brother.
 
‘I will have blessing,’ she answered, and her father gave her much blessing.
 
That night he died, and his wife and son and daughter mourned for him seven days, and gave him a burial according to the custom of his people. But hardly was the time of mourning over, than the mother was attacked by a disease which was common in that country.
 
‘I am going away from you,’ she said to her children, in a faint voice; ‘but first, my son, choose which you will have: blessing or property.’
 
‘Property, certainly,’ answered the son.
 
‘And you, my daughter?’
 
‘I will have blessing,’ said the girl; and her mother gave her much blessing, and that night she died.
 
When the days of mourning were ended, the brother bade his sister put outside the hut all that belonged to his father and his mother. So the girl put them out, and he took them away, save only a small pot and a in which she could clean her corn. But she had no corn to clean.
 
She sat at home, sad and hungry, when a neighbour knocked at the door.
 
‘My pot has cracked in the fire, lend me yours to cook my supper in, and I will give you a handful of corn in return.’
 
And the girl was glad, and that night she was able to have supper herself, and next day another woman borrowed her pot, and then another and another, for never were known so many accidents as befell the village pots at that time. She soon grew quite fat with all the corn she earned with the help of her pot, and then one evening she picked up a seed in a corner, and planted it near her well, and it sprang up, and gave her many .
 
At last it happened that a youth from her village passed through the place where the girl’s brother was, and the two met and talked.
 
‘What news is there of my sister?’ asked the young man, with whom things had gone badly, for he was idle.
 
‘She is fat and well-liking,’ replied the youth, ‘for the women borrow her to clean their corn, and borrow her pot to cook it in, and for al this they give her more food than she can eat.’ And he went his way.
 
Now the brother was filled with envy at the words of the man, and he set out at once, and before dawn he had reached the hut, and saw the pot and the mortar were outside. He them over his shoulders and departed, pleased with his own cleverness; but when his sister awoke and sought for the pot to cook her corn for breakfast, she could find it nowhere. At length she said to herself,
 
‘Well, some thief must have stolen them while I slept. I will go and see if any of my pumpkins are ripe.’ And indeed they were, and so many that the tree was almost broken by the weight of them. So she ate what she wanted and took the others to the village, and gave them in exchange for corn, and the women said that no pumpkins were as sweet as these, and that she was to bring every day all that she had. In this way she earned more than she needed for herself, and soon was able to get another mortar and cooking pot in exchange for her corn. Then she thought she was quite rich.
 
Unluckily someone else thought so too, and this was her brother’s wife, who had heard all about the pumpkin tree, and sent her slave with a handful of grain to buy her a pumpkin. At first the girl told him that so few were left that she could not spare any; but when she found that he belonged to her brother, she changed her mind, and went out to the tree and gathered the largest and the ripest that was there.
 
‘Take this one,’ she said to the slave, ‘and carry it back to your mistress, but tell her to keep the corn, as the pumpkin is a gift.’
 
The brother’s wife was overjoyed at the sight of the fruit, and when she tasted it, she declared it was the nicest she had ever eaten. Indeed, all night she thought of nothing else, and early in the morning she called another slave (for she was a rich woman) and bade him go and ask for another pumpkin. But the girl, who had just been out to look at her tree, told him that they were all eaten, so he went back empty-handed to his mistress.
 
In the evening her husband returned from hunting a long way off, and found his wife in tears.
 
‘What is the matter?’ asked he.
 
‘I sent a slave with some grain to your sister to buy some pumpkins, but she would not sell me any, and told me there were none, though I know she lets other people buy them.’
 
‘Well, never mind now—go to sleep,’ said he, ‘and to-morrow I will go and pull up the pumpkin tree, and that will punish her for treating you so badly.’
 
So before sunrise he got up and set out for his sister’s house, and found her cleaning some corn.
 
‘Why did you refuse to sell my wife a pumpkin yesterday when she wanted one?’ he asked.
 
‘The old ones are finished, and the new ones are not yet come,’ answered the girl. ‘When her slave arrived two days ago, there were only four left; but I gave him one, and would take no corn for it.’
 
‘I do not believe you; you have sold them all to other people. I shall go and cut down the pumpkin,’ cried her brother in a rage.
 
‘If you cut down the pumpkin you shall cut off my hand with it,’ exclaimed the girl, running up to her tree and hold of it. But her brother followed, and with one blow cut off the pumpkin and her hand too.
 
Then he went into the house and took away everything he could find, and sold the house to a friend of his who had long wished to have it, and his sister had no home to go to.
 
Meanwhile she had bathed her arm carefully, and bound on it some healing leaves that grew near by, and wrapped a cloth round the leaves, and went to hide in the forest, that her brother might not find her again.
 
For seven days she wandered about, eating only the fruit that hung from the trees above her, and every night she climbed up and tucked herself safely among the creepers which bound together the big branches, so that neither lions nor tigers nor panthers might get at her.
 
When she woke up on the seventh morning she saw from her smoke coming up from a little town on the edge of the forest. The sight of the huts made her feel more lonely and helpless than before. She longed for a of milk from a , for there were no streams in that part, and she was very thirsty, but how was she to earn anything with only one hand? And at this thought her courage failed, and she began to cry bitterly.
 
It happened that the king’s son had come out from the town very early to shoot birds, and when the sun grew hot he left tired.
 
‘I will lie here and rest under this tree,’ he said to his attendants. ‘You can go and shoot instead, and I will just have this slave to stay with me!’ Away they went, and the young man fell asleep, and slept long. Suddenly he was by something wet and salt falling on his face.
 
‘What is that? Is it raining?’ he said to his slave. ‘Go and look.’
 
‘No, master, it is not raining,’ answered the slave.
 
‘Then climb up the tree and see what it is,’ and the slave climbed up, and came back and told his master that a beautiful girl was sitting up there, and that it must have been her tears which had fallen on the face of the king’s son.
 
‘Why was she crying?’ inquired the prince.
 
‘I cannot tell—I did not dare to ask her; but perhaps she would tell you.’ And the master, greatly wondering, climbed up the tree.
 
‘What is the matter with you?’ said he gently, and, as she only louder, he continued:
 
‘Are you a woman, or a spirit of the woods?’
 
‘I am a woman,’ she answered slowly, wiping her eyes with a leaf of the creeper that hung about her.
 
‘Then why do you cry?’ he persisted.
 
‘I have many things to cry for,’ she replied, ‘more than you could ever guess.’
 
‘Come home with me,’ said the prince; ‘it is not very far. Come home to my father and mother. I am a king’s son.’
 
‘Then why are you here?’ she said, opening her eyes and staring at him.
 
‘Once every month I and my friends shoot birds in the forest,’ he answered, ‘but I was tired and bade them leave me to rest. And you—what are you doing up in this tree?’
 
At that she began to cry again, and told the king’s son all that had befallen her since the death of her mother.
 
‘I cannot come down with you, for I do not like anyone to see me,’ she ended with a .
 
‘Oh! I will manage all that,’ said the king’s son, and swinging himself to a lower branch, he bade his slave go quickly into the town, and bring back with him four strong men and a curtained litter. When the man was gone, the girl climbed down, and hid herself on the ground in some bushes. Very soon the slave returned with the litter, which was placed on the ground close to the bushes where the girl lay.
 
‘Now go, all of you, and call my attendants, for I do not wish to say here any longer,’ he said to the men, and as soon as they were out of sight he bade the girl get into the litter, and fasten the curtains tightly. Then he got in on the other side, and waited till his attendants came up.
 
‘What is the matter, O son of a king?’ asked they, breathless with running.
 
‘I think I am ill; I am cold,’ he said, and signing to the bearers, he drew the curtains, and was carried through the forest right inside his own house.
 
‘Tell my father and mother that I have a fever, and want some ,’ said he, ‘and bid them send it quickly.’
 
So the slave hastened to the king’s palace and gave his message, which troubled both the king and the queen greatly. A pot of hot gruel was instantly prepared, and carried over to the sick man, and as soon as the council which was sitting was over, the king and his ministers went to pay him a visit, bearing a message from the queen that she would follow a little later.
 
Now the prince had pretended to be ill in order to his parent’s hearts, and the next day he declared he felt better, and, getting into his litter, was carried to the palace in state, drums being beaten all along the road.
 
He dismounted at the foot of the steps and walked up, a great parasol being held over his head by a slave. Then he entered the cool, dark room where his father and mother were sitting, and said to them:
 
‘I saw a girl yesterday in the forest whom I wish to marry, and, unknown to my attendants, I brought her back to my house in a litter. Give me your consent, I beg, for no other woman pleases me as well, even though she has but one hand!’
 
Of course the king and queen would have preferred a daughter-in-law with two hands, and one who could have brought riches with her, but they could not bear to say ‘No’ to their son, so they told him it should be as he chose, and that the wedding feast should be prepared immediately.
 
The girl could scarcely believe her good fortune, and, in for all the kindness shown her, was so useful and pleasant to her husband’s parents that they soon loved her.
 
By and bye a baby was born to her, and soon after that the prince was sent on a journey by his father to visit some of the distant towns of the kingdom, and to set right things that had gone wrong.
 
No sooner had he started than the girl’s brother, who had wasted all the riches his wife had brought him in recklessness and , and was now very poor, chanced to come into the town, and as he passed he heard a man say, ‘Do you know that the king’s son has married a woman who has lost one of her hands?’ On hearing these words the brother stopped and asked, ‘Where did he find such a woman?’
 
‘In the forest,’ answered the man, and the cruel brother guessed at once it must be his sister.
 
A great rage took possession of his soul as he thought of the girl whom he had tried to ruin being after all so much better off than himself, and he that he would work her ill. Therefore that very afternoon he made his way to the palace and asked to see the king.
 
When he was admitted to his presence, he knelt down and touched the ground with his forehead, and the king bade him stand up and tell wherefore he had come.
 
‘By the kindness of your heart have you been deceived, O king,’ said he. ‘Your son has married a girl who has lost a hand. Do you know why she had lost it? She was a witch, and has three husbands, and each husband she has put to death with her arts. Then the people of the town cut off her hand, and turned her into the forest. And what I say is true, for her town is my town also.’
 
The king listened, and his face grew dark. Unluckily he had a hasty temper, and did not stop to reason, and, instead of sending to the town, and discovering people who knew his daughter-in-law and could have told him how hard she had worked and how poor she had been, he believed all the brother’s lying words, and made the queen believe them too. Together they took counsel what they should do, and in the end they that they also would put her out of the town. But this did not content the brother.
 
‘Kill her,’ he said. ‘It is no more than she deserves for daring to marry the king’s son. Then she can do no more hurt to anyone.’
 
‘We cannot kill her,’ ans............