Shree Shookdeo Jeesaid,—Raja! Kuns’ counsellor having taken many devils with him, was roaming about and destroying, when Kuns, having sent for a female devil, named Pootna, said to her, go and kill as many of the family of Judoo, as you can find. She, hearing this, being highly pleased, and making a salutation, departed. She began to say to herself, “Nund has had a son, I heard it in the village of Gokool, I will now lay hold of it by stratagem; I will go as a cowherdess.”
Having said this, ornamenting herself in a most elaborate manner, putting poison in her breast, assuming a fascinating appearance, practising deceit, taking a lotus in her hand, being fully adorned, she went forth like Luchmee, when arrayed in all the ornaments of dress, she goes to meet her lord. Having arrived in Gokool, she came laughing into the house of Nund.
On seeing her, all being fascinated, remained as though dispossessed of their senses—She went and sat near Jusodha, and asking the news, gave her a blessing. “Sister, may your Krishnù live a crore of years!” Having thus proffered friendship, taking the child from Jusodha, and placing it in her bosom, when she offered to suckle it, Shree Krishnù, having seized her breast with both his hands, began fastening his mouth on her breast, to suck her life with the milk; upon this, Pootna being greatly agitated, exclaimed, “Jusodha, what sort of son is this of your’s, he is not a mortal, but the messenger of death—Thinking it a cord, I have laid hold of a snake. If I escape alive from his hands, I will never come to Gokool again.” Saying this, she ran off outside the village, but Krishnù did not let go his hold; and all of a sudden, he took her life. She fell down, just as a thunderbolt would fall from heaven. Having heard a very great noise, Rohnee and Jusodha, weeping and lamenting, came to the spot where Pootna, occupying a space of two koss, had fallen dead; and the whole village came running out after them; they saw Krishnù upon her breast and in the act of sucking the milk—Taking him up quickly, and kissing him, they pressed him to their bosoms, and brought him home.
Having sent for charmers, they began to exorcise him; and the cowherdesses and cowherds, standing near Pootna, began to say to each other, “Friend! hearing the sound of her fall, we were so alarmed, that our bosoms are still palpitating—Who can say, what the child’s state may be?”
In the meantime, Nund Jee having come from Muttra, saw that a female devil had fallen dead, and that a crowd of the inhabitants of Bruj had surrounded her. He enquired how this act of violence had occurred—They began to explain to him, “O great king! first of all she came to your house in a beautiful form, and gave a blessing; on seeing her, all the women of Bruj were like persons deprived of their senses. She took Krishnù, and began to suckle him, and after that, we do not know what occurred.” On hearing this, Nund Jee said, it is very lucky the child has escaped, and that she did not fall upon Gokool; had she fallen, not one would have escaped; all would have been crushed under her, and died. Having thus spoken, Nund Jee came home, and bestowed gifts and presents; and the cowherds having brought axes, spades, mattocks and hoes, and cutting off the bones and feet of Pootna, dug holes, and buried them; and collecting the flesh and skin together burnt them.
From her burning, there was such a sweet scent spread abroad, that it filled the whole world with perfume. Having heard thus much, Raja Pureechit said to Shookdeo Jee, “O great king! that female devil was very unclean, an eater of flesh and drinker of wine, please explain how it happened, that a sweet smell came from her body.” The sage replied, Raja! Shree Krishnù Chund, having drank her milk, granted her absolution, and that was the cause of the perfume coming from her body.
Shree Shookdeo, the sage, said:—The division of the zodiack in which Krishnù was born, came round again—Jusodha, his mother, performed all the four customary ceremonies of congratulation.
When Huri was twenty-seven days old, Nund Jee sent an invitation to all Brahmins and inhabitants of Bruj—They came, and were placed upon seats with respect and honour. Afterwards, having given a great many presents to Brahmins, he allowed them to depart; and having arrayed his relations in dresses, which he gave them, entertained them with every sort of delicacy. At this time, Jusodha was assisting in the ceremony of serving the food, Rohnee was waiting upon them, the inhabitants of Bruj were laughing and eating, the cowherdesses were singing songs; all were so delighted with joy, that not one thought about Krishnù; and Krishnù was fast asleep in a cradle under a heavy cart. Shortly afterwards, he awoke hungry; having his toe in his mouth, he began crying, and moving about to look around him. At that time, a demon came flying over. Seeing Krishnù alone, he began to say to himself, “This is some very powerful person that has been born; but to-day I will revenge myself on him for Pootna’s death.”
Having resolved upon this, he came and sat in the cart, whence his name was Suktasoor. When the cart began to crack, and move about, Shree Krishnù, sobbing, gave such a kick, that the demon died, and the cart fell to pieces. As many pails as there were, containing milk and curds, were all broken, and the contents oozed out; and the buttermilk flowed in a stream, like a river. Hearing the noise of the cart going to pieces, and of the breaking of the earthen pots, all the cowherdesses and cowherds ran to the spot. On arrival, Jusodha taking up Krishnù, and kissing him, pressed him to her bosom.
Having beheld this strange occurrence, they all began to say to each other “Bruhmù has done an act of great kindness to-day, by means of which, although the cart has been broken in pieces, the child has escaped.”
Having narrated thus much, Shree Shookdeo said,—Raja! when Huri was five months old, Kuns sent Trinawurut, who came to Gokool in the form of a whirlwind.
Nund’s wife was sitting with Krishnù in her lap in the court-yard, when all at once Krishnù became so heavy, that Jusodha, on account of the weight, was obliged to let him down from her lap. In the meantime, such a violent storm occurred, that day was changed into night, and trees began to fall, torn up by the roots; the roofs of houses to fly about. Upon this Jusodha, being alarmed, tried to lift up Krishnù, but he would not rise. As soon as her hand was off his body, Trinawurut flew off with him in the air, and began to say to himself, “To-day I will most certainly destroy him.”
Having taken off Krishnù, the demon was resolving these thoughts in his mind, whilst Jusodha, not knowing where Krishnù was, (lit: not seeing him before her,) began to cry, and to call out “Krishnù! Krishnù!” Hearing her voice, all the cowherdesses and cowherds came to the spot, and, together with her, ran about in search of Krishnù—They went about groping in the dark by guess—and tripped, and fell down.
The cowherdesses roamed over the jungle of Bruj in search of Krishnù, whilst Rohnee and Jusodha were talking to each other about him, Nund continued calling out in a voice of thunder; the cowherdesses and cowherds vociferated lustily. When Shree Krishnù saw that Nund and Jusodha, as well as all the inhabitants of Bruj, were much distressed; having twisted Trinawurut round, and brought him into the court-yard, he dashed him against a stone with such violence, that life left his body. The storm was hushed; it became light again; and all, after having lost their road, reached home. They saw a demon lying dead in the court yard; Shree Krishnù was playing upon his chest. On coming up to him, Jusodha took him in his arms, and clasped him to her bosom, and gave many gifts to Brahmins.
Shree Shookdeo Jeesaid,—Raja! one day Basoodeo Jee having sent for Gurug, the sage, who was a great astrologer, and the family priest of the members of the family of Judoo, said to him “Go to Gokool, and give my son a name. Rohnee has been pregnant, and had a son—What is his age, how powerful is he, what is his name? And Nund Jee has had a son, and sent for you.”
On hearing this Gurug, the sage, being highly pleased, departed, and came near Gokool. Some one went and told Nund Jee, that Gurug, the sage, the family priest of the Judoos, was coming. On hearing it, Nund Jee delighted, and accompanied by the cowherds’ children, took with him presents, and went out to meet him; and having spread carpets of silk for him to walk upon, brought him to his house amidst musical rejoicings. Having performed poojah, placing him upon a seat, and taking the water, with which his feet had been washed, the wife and husband, joining their hands, began to say, “O great king! great is our good fortune, that you have been so compassionate as to come and purify our house by giving us a sight of you. Through your majesty, two sons have been born; one Rohnee’s; the other, ours: be so kind as to give them names.” Gurug, the sage, said, “Thus to give them names would not be proper; because, if it shall be spread abroad, that Gurug, the sage, has gone to Gokool to give names to children, and Kuns shall hear of it, he will think that some one has conveyed Dewukee’s son to the house of his friend, Basoodeo; and, therefore, the family priest has gone there. Thinking thus he will have me apprehended, and there is no knowing what violence he may do to you. For this reason, do not make the matter at all public, but give the names silently (or have the names given silently,) in your own house.”
Nund said, “Gurug Jee! you have spoken truly.” Saying this, he took him into his own house, and placed him upon a seat. Then Gurug, the sage, having enquired from Nund Jee the lunar day and time of birth of both, having determined the fortunate moment, and resolved upon what their names should be, said, “Nund Jee! the son of Rohnee, the wife of Basoodeo, shall have the following names, Sunkurkun, Kewuteerummun, Buldao, Bulram, Kalindeebhedun, Huldhur, and Bulbeer. And with respect to your son, in the form of Krishnù, his names shall be numberless; but as he was once born in the house of Basoodeo, he has been named Basoodeo. And it is my opinion, that whenever these two children of yours shall be born in the four ages, they shall be born together.” Nund Jee said, “Explain their good qualities.”—Gurug the sage replied, “They are deities; it is impossible to understand their state; but I know this much, that, having killed Kuns, they will remove the burdens of the world.” Having thus spoken, Gurug, the sage, departed in silence, and went, and told all the news to Basoodeo. After this, both the children began to increase in stature daily in Gokool, and give pleasure to Nund and Jusodha, by playing childish tricks; wearing blue and yellow dresses, with short curls floating loose on their foreheads, with amulets, knotted strings and necklaces on their necks, and toys in their hands, they played about; crawling about the court-yard on their knees, they fell down and lisped out their words—Rohnee and Jusodha followed them about, lest the children, frightened at any one, should trip and fall. When having laid hold of the young calves’ tails, they got up, and afterwards fell down, Jusodha and Rohnee taking them up, and pressing them to their bosoms with the greatest affection, suckled them, and coaxed them in every possible way.
When Shree Krishnù grew bigger, he one day took the cowherds’ children with him to Bruj to steal butter.
They searched for it in empty houses, and Krishnù allowed them to steal whatever they found. They carried away the milk pails, which were set apart and covered up, belonging to all whom they found asleep in their houses. Wherever they found it suspended on strings, placing a board upon a stool, a wooden mortar upon the board, and making one of their companions stand upon the mortar, and getting upon his back, they took down the butter, ate some of it, stole some, and spilt some about: in this manner, they constantly committed theft in the houses of the cowherdesses. One day, they all took counsel together, and allowed Krishnù to come into the house. Having entered the house, as he was on the point of stealing the butter and curds, they laid hold of him, and said, “You have been in the habit of coming night and morning; where will you escape now, you butter thief?”
Having thus spoken, when all the cowherdesses in a body, taking Krishnù with them, were going to make a complaint to Jusodha regarding him, Krishnù practised this deception upon them, he made each mother take hold of her own child by the hand, and ran off himself, and again joined the sons of the cowherds. When the cowherdesses came to Nund’s wife, they fell at her feet, and said, “If you will not be offended, we will inform you, what acts of tyranny Krishnù has committed—milk, curds, butter, buttermilk do not escape from his hand; in Bruj he commits such thefts, and roams about, thieving, morning and evening. Wherever he finds them laid bye, and covered up, he fearlessly takes them away, eats some, and allows his companions to steal. If any one points out the mark of curds on his mouth, he perversely says, that the same person placed it there. In this manner, he used to come constantly, and commit thefts; to-day, we have caught him, and brought him to show to you.” Jusodha replied, “Friends! whose child have you laid hold of, and brought to me; since yesterday, my Krishnù has not gone out of the house? Is this the way you speak truth?” Hearing this, and perceiving that they had hold of their own children, they laughed and were ashamed of themselves. Upon this, Jusodha sent for Krishnù, and said to him, “Son! do not go to any one’s house; whatever you wish to eat, eat at home.”
Having heard this, Krishnù said, lisping, “Do not, mother, place any reliance on what they say. These false cowherdesses have spoken falsely, and have come roaring in pursuit of me. Sometimes, they make me lay hold of the milk-pails and calves; sometimes they make me perform the drudgery of the house; and having placed me at the door to watch, they go about their business, and then come and tell you stories.” Hearing this, the cowherdesses looking at Krishnù, and smiling, went away.
One day after this, Krishnù and Bulram were playing with some companions in a court-yard, when Krishnù ate some dirt:—one of his companions went and told Jusodha, who came running towards him in a passion, with a stick in her hand. Seeing his mother coming towards him in a very angry humour, wiping his mouth, he was frightened, and remained standing in the same spot. She, on coming up, asked him, “Why have you been eating mud?” Krishnù replied with fear and trembling, “Mother! who has told you this?” She said, “One of your companions has told me.” Upon this, Mohun, being enraged, said to the companion, “When did I eat mud?” He replied in alarm, “Brother! I do not understand what you say—what answer shall I give?” When Krishnù began to explain to his companion, Jusodha went and laid hold of him. Upon this, Krishnù began to say, “Be not angry, mother! do human creatures ever eat mud?” She said, “I will not listen to your thoughtless speeches; if you really speak the truth, show me your mouth.” When Shree Krishnù opened his mouth, the three worlds were seen inside it. Jusodha was then convinced, and she began to say to herself, “I am a great fool in looking upon the lord of the three worlds as my son.”
Having proceeded thus far in the narrative, Shree Shookdeo said to the Raja Pureechit,—Raja! when Nund’s wife thought thus, Huri dissipated the delusion; and, Jusodha, having pressed Mohun to her bosom with affection, brought him home.
Oneday, thinking it to be a proper time for churning, Nund’s wife rose very early, and having awakened all the cowherdesses, gave them an invitation:—they came, and having swept and thoroughly cleaned the house, and plastered it over, began churning. Upon this, Nund’s wife also took a large sized new dish, placing it upon a stand, and spreading a seat for herself; with churning staff and string, she sat down, and began to churn for Shree Krishnù, after having arranged fresh, unused vessels for holding the milk. At this time, the sound made by churning in Nund’s house was like thunder. In the mean while, Krishnù awoke, and began crying, and calling out for his mother. When no one heeded his calling out, he came himself to Jusodha, and with tears in his eyes, in a state of agitation, sobbing and lisping, began to say, “Mother! how often have I called for you, and you have not come to give me victuals; is your business not finished yet?” Saying this, he became cross.
Having taken the churning staff from the large dish, putting both his hands into it, and taking out the butter, he began to throw it about, and besmear his body with it; and kicking about his feet, and laying hold of his dress, he began to cry.
Then Nund’s wife, being frightened and angry, said, “Son! what have you done?” or “what sort of behaviour is this? Get up, and come along with me, and I will give you food,” Krishnù said, “I will not take any now; why did you not give it me at first, mother? For me to take it now would be a calamity.” At length, with coaxing and kindness, Jusodha kissed him, and took him in her lap, and gave him thick milk, and bread and butter to eat. Huri laughed and ate; Nund’s wife, placing a cloth over him in such a way that no one could see him, continued to feed him.
In the mean while a cowherdess came, and said, “You are sitting here, while there all the milk has boiled over the fire-place.” On hearing this, having quickly put down Krishnù from her lap, she ran off, and went and saved the milk; whilst Krishnù, having broken the vessels, containing the curds and buttermilk, destroyed the churning staves; and having taken a small earthen pot, filled with butter, ran off to the cowherds’ children. He found a wooden mortar, placed upside down, upon which he sat, and having seated his companions on four sides, they began to distribute the butter to each other laughing, and to eat it.
When Jusodha came back, after having taken off the milk from the fire-place, she saw that the court-yard and hall were greasy with curds and buttermilk. Reflecting, and considering upon this, she came forth with a stick in her hand; and searching about, came to the spot where Shree Krishnù had formed an assembly, and was eating and distributing butter. When she went behind, and placed her hand on him, Huri, seeing his mother, crying and entreating, said to her, “Mother! I do not know who caused the buttermilk to be spilt; let go of me.” Hearing him speak with so much humility, Jusodha, laughing and throwing away the stick, embraced Krishnù with the greatest delight, though pretending to be angry; and having brought him home, began to fasten him to the wooden mortar. Shree Krishnù contrived, that whatever string she fastened him with, should be too short. Jusodha sent for all the strings in the house; but nevertheless, Krishnù was not fastened—At length perceiving that his mother was vexed, he allowed himself to be bound. Nund’s wife having fastened him, and having exacted an oath from the cowherdesses, that they would not let him loose, began to occupy herself with domestic matters.
Shree Shookdeo Jeesaid,—Raja! whilst Shree Krishnù was bound, the recollection of a former birth occurred to him, when Narud had pronounced a curse on the two sons of Kooverù, whom it was necessary for him to liberate.—On hearing this, the Raja Pureechit said to Shookdeo Jee, “O great king! please explain how Narud, the sage, cursed the sons of Kooverù.” Shookdeo, the sage, said,—In the mountain Kylas, Kooverù had two sons, named Nul and Koover, who, attending upon Sivù, became very rich—One day, accompanied by their wives, they went into the forest for amusement; and having drank wine there, became intoxicated. Stripping themselves and their wives naked, they began to bathe in the Ganges, and throwing their arms round each other’s necks, indulged in various kinds of amatory playfulness, in the midst of which, Narud, the sage, made his appearance. On seeing him, the women came out of the water, and dressed themselves;—but the two men, who were intoxicated, remained where they were. Seeing their condition, Narud Jee began to say to himself, “They have become proud on account of their wealth; and for this reason, indulge in anger, and amorous sports—A man without wealth has no pride; and a wealthy man, no thought of religion, or irreligion.”—It is said, “that fools having cherished their false bodies, (that is, indulging in all sorts of luxury and excess,) forget themselves. At the sight of wealth, and their families (meaning, high connexions,) they are elated—and virtuous men do not entertain any pride of wealth in their minds, but regard good and bad fortune alike.” Saying this, Narud, the sage, pronounced a curse upon them—“For this crime, go to Gokool, and become trees; when Shree Krishnù descends upon the earth, he will liberate you.” Narud, the sage, thus cursed them, for which reason they came to Gokool, and were transformed into trees—and they were named Jumlajoorun.
Having narrated thus much, Shookdeo Jee said,—O great king! recollecting this circumstance, Shree Krishnù, dragging along the wooden mortar, came to the place in which the trees named Jumlajoorun, were. On going there, having cast the wooden mortar across, between the two great trees, he gave such a sudden jerk, that the two trees fell down, uprooted; and two very handsome human beings, coming forth from them, and joining their hands, began to sing his praises—“O Lord! who, but you, would recollect such great sinners as we are.” Shree Krishnù said, “Narud, the sage, has shown great compassion towards you, in having granted you liberation in Gokool; through his beneficence, you have obtained me—Now ask from me any boon you wish.” Jumlajoorun said, “O lord of the poor! through the favour of Narud Jee, we have touched your feet, and obtained a sight of you; we have now no desire of any thing else; but be pleased to grant this much, that faith in you may always continue in our breasts.” On hearing this, Shree Krishnù, having granted what they asked, and laughing, dismissed them.
Shree Shookdeo, the sage, said,—Raja! when those two trees fell, hearing the sound, and being alarmed, the wife of Nund came to the spot where Krishnù had been tied to the wooden mortar; and all the cowherdesses and cowherds came also after her. When she did not find Krishnù there, being agitated in mind, Jusodha went about calling out, and repeating the name of Mohun—“Where has he gone, that was tied down? Has any one seen my boy Kunhya any where?” In the meantime, (or at this time,) a woman of Bruj, having come before Jusodha, said, “Two trees have fallen down, and there Krishnù has escaped.”
Having heard this, they all advanced and saw that two trees had indeed fallen down, uprooted, and Krishnù was sitting between them, tied to the wooden mortar, and contracted in size. Going up to him, Nund’s wife, loosing him from the wooden mortar, and weeping, clasped Krishnù to her bosom; and all the cowherdesses, supposing that he was alarmed, began to snap their fingers, and clap their hands to make Krishnù laugh. Upon this, Nund and Oopnund began to say to each other, “How have these trees, which have been growing up for ages, fallen down, uprooted; this strange occurrence cannot be understood, nor is the secret of it comprehensible.” Having heard this, a young boy explained the circumstances of the trees falling, exactly as they had occurred; but no one could understand them. One said, “How can these children understand such a secret as this?” Another said, “Perhaps it may be so, for who can comprehend the state of Huri?” Thus making remarks of various kinds, and taking Shree Krishnù with them, they all came with delight to Gokool: then Nund Jee gave many presents, and performed many charitable acts. After the lapse of some days, Krishnù’s birth-day came round: Jusodha sent an invitation to all their relations; and having given an entertainment, tied the anniversary birth-day knot. When they all sat down to eat, Nund Rae said, “Brethren! how can we possibly remain in Gokool? Every day, many acts of injustice are committed; let us go somewhere, where we can have grass and water”—Oopnund said, “If you go and live at Brindabun, you will live there with delight.” Having heard this speech, Nund Jee entertaining them all, and giving them seats after distributing pawn, sent for an astrologer, and enquired the proper division of time of (48) forty-eight minutes for the journey. He, considering, said, “To-morrow is a very good day for a journey in that direction; the spirits, attendant on good and bad luck, are on the left; the unlucky quarter is behind us, and the moon before us: you may start off early in the morning without any anxiety.” Having heard this, all the cowherdesses and cowherds went to their homes, but early in the morning they all assembled together, having packed up all their goods and chattels on carts. Nund Jee also accompanied them, with all his relations; and proceeding on their journey, and crossing the river, they arrived in the evening. Having propitiated the goddess Toolsee, they occupied Brindabun; and all began to live there with ease and pleasure.
When Shree Krishnù was five years old, he said to his mother, “I will go out to graze the calves; tell Buldao not to leave me alone in the jungle.” She replied, “Son! there are many servants of yours, whose business it is to take the calves out to graze; do not you go, who are the protection of my eye-lids, and dearer to me than my eyes.” Krishnù said, “If I am allowed to go into the jungle to amuse myself, I will eat my food; if not, I will not.” On hearing this, Jusodha having called the cowherds’ children, and entrusted Krishnù and Bulram to them, said, “Do not go far to graze the calves, and bring them both home together before evening. Do not leave them by themselves in the jungle; remain with them; you are their guardians.” Saying this, and giving them food, she made over Ram and Krishnù to them. They having gone to the banks of the Jumna, began to graze the calves and to play with the cowherds’ children. At this time, Buchasoor, who had been sent by Kuns, came there under a disguised form: on seeing him, the frightened calves ran off in all directions. Upon this, Shree Krishnù remarked to Buldeo with a wink, “Brother! this is some demon that has come here.” Afterwards, when in the act of feeding he approached near to accomplish his treacherous design (lit: to arrange his ambuscade,) Shree Krishnù having seized him by the hind leg, and twisted him round his head, dashed him down with such violence, that life left his body. Having heard of the death of Buchasoor, Kuns sent Bukasoor, who having come to Brindabun, and arranged his snare, went and sat on the bank of the Jumna, in the appearance of a hill—On beholding him, the cowherds began, through fear, to say to Krishnù, “Brother! this is some demon, who has come in the form of a crane; how shall we escape from him?” On the one hand, the cowherds were speaking thus to Krishnù; on the other, the demon was revolving in his mind, “That he would certainly destroy Krishnù on that day.” In the meantime, when Shree Krishnù went near him, he raised him up with his bill, and shut his mouth.
The cowherds’ children being perplexed, looking round on all sides and crying, began to call out, and say, “Alas! alas! Huldhur too is not here, what shall we go and tell Jusodha?” Seeing that they were greatly distressed, Shree Krishnù became so hot, that the crane could not retain him in his mouth. When the crane vomited him out, Krishnù having seized his beak, and pressed it under his feet, tore it in pieces; and collecting the calves, he returned home with his companions, laughing and playing.
Shree Shookdeosaid,—O great king! Shree Krishnù went one day early to the jungle to feed the calves; and all the cowherds’ children, taking provisions with them from their homes, accompanied him. Having gone to the pasture ground, and deposited their food, and let the calves loose to graze, staining their bodies with white and red earth, making necklaces of jungle fruits and flowers, they put them on, and imitating the sounds of beasts and birds, and indulging in sports of various kinds, they began to dance and sing.
In the meantime, a demon named Ooghasoor, sent by Kuns, arrived; and being transformed into a huge serpent, sat with his mouth open; and Shree Krishnú playing, sporting and taking his companions with him, came to the spot where the serpent, having prepared his ambuscade, was sitting with his mouth open. Having beheld him from a distance, the cowherds’ children began to say amongst themselves, “Brother! this is some great mountain, the chasm of which is so large.” Thus conversing, and leading the calves, they came near the serpent. One child then seeing its mouth open, said, “Brother! this is some very frightful cave, do not let us go inside it, we are frightened on even looking at it.” One of the companions, named Tokh, then said, “Come, let us go inside, what fear have we, whilst Krishnù is with us? If it should be any demon, he will be destroyed as Bukasoor was.” They were all standing and conversing thus, when the serpent drew such a deep breath, that all the cowherds’ children together with the calves fell into his mouth. There was such a poisonous, hot vapour, that the calves alarmed, began to low, and Krishnù’s companions to call out, “O beloved Krishnù! quickly take thought of us, or we shall be burnt to death.” Hearing their cries, Shree Krishnù, being distressed, went also into his mouth; and the serpent delighted shut its mouth. Upon this, Shree Krishnù increased his body to such a size, that the serpent’s stomach was burst. All the calves and cowherds’ children fell out. At this time, the gods delighted, and raining flowers and nectar, took away the heat, under which all were suffering. Upon this, the cowherds’ children began to say to Shree Krishnù, “Brother! by putting this demon to death, you have well saved us: otherwise, all would have perished—(or had perished.)”
Shree Shookdeosaid,—Raja! having thus destroyed Ooghasoor, Shree Krishnù Chund having collected the calves, and taking his companions with him, proceeded on his road. Having gone some distance, standing under the shade of a kudum tree, playing on the flute, and calling all the cowherds’ children, he said, “Brothers! this is a nice place, why need we go farther? let us sit down here and eat.”
On hearing this, they drove away the calves to graze, and having brought leaves of different trees, and made them into plates and cups, sweeping the place clean, they sat down in rows on all sides of Krishnù, and producing their provisions, began to serve them out.
When they had finished serving them out, Shree Krishnù standing in the midst, having first himself taken a mouthful, gave the order for them to eat. They began to eat; and amongst them, Shree Krishnù with a peacock crown, a necklace of various flowers reaching to his feet, with a club in his hand, standing awry, and dressed in yellow silk, laughing gave them all some of his own food; and taking some from the plate of each, tasting it he pronounced upon the different flavours; the bitter, sweet, hot and pungent; and appeared as beautiful in that assembly, as the moon among the stars. At this time Bruhmù and all the gods seated in their chariots looked down from the sky on the enjoyments of the cowherds’ assembly. Bruhmù, having come down from amongst them, stole and took away all the calves; and whilst the cowherds were eating, happening to think about them, they said to Krishnù, “Brother! we are sitting here at our ease, and eating; who knows where the calves may have gone to?”
Then Krishnù said to the cowherds, “Do you all remain feasting; let no one get up, or be at all anxious; I will collect the calves belonging to all, and bring them here.”
Having thus said, and gone some distance into the jungle, when he found out that Bruhmù had stolen and carried off the calves, Shree Krishnù made others exactly like them, and brought them with him. On his return, he perceived that Bruhmù had taken off the cowherds’ children also. He then also created other children, exactly like those that had been taken away; and as it was evening, brought them all with him to Brindabun. The cowherds’ children went to their homes, but none discovered the secret, that the children did not belong to them; on the contrary, affection for them increased daily.
Having narrated thus much, Shree Shookdeo said,—O great king! Bruhmù having taken off the cowherds’ children and calves, shutting them up in a mountain cave, and blocking up the entrance with a stone, fell into a state of forgetfulness regarding the circumstance; and Shree Krishnù constantly engaged in new sports. After the lapse of a year, Bruhmù recollected what he had done, and began to say to himself, “One of my moments has not passed, but a year of mortals has elapsed; I must therefore go and see what has been the state of Bruj without the cowherds’ children and the calves.”
Thinking thus, he rose and came to the cave, where he had shut them all up. Having raised the stone, he saw, that the children and the calves had fallen into a deep sleep. Departing thence, and coming to Brindabun, when he beheld the children and calves exactly as before, he was astonished, and began to say, “How have the cowherds and calves come here, or has Krishnù created these new ones?” Saying this he went again to look at the cave. Whilst he was looking at them, Krishnù created such a delusion, that all the cowherds’ children and calves became four-armed, and Bruhmù, Roodrù and Indrù with hands joined, stood before each. Bruhmù, on beholding, became like a picture: all intelligence and thoughts were forgotten (that is departed from him) just as a stone Dewee with four faces would be grieved without worshippers and worship.
And being frightened, and shutting his eyes, he began to tremble. When Shree Krishnù, acquainted with the secret thoughts of all, found that Bruhmù was very much alarmed, he took away the parts of which the rest were composed, and remained himself alone, just as separate clouds are formed into one.
Shree Shookdeo Jeesaid,—Raja! when Shree Krishnù removed his delusion, Bruhmù acquired a knowledge of his own body (that is, recovered his former intelligence.) Reflecting he went to Bhugwan, and implored him most earnestly: falling at his feet, soliciting and standing before him with joined hands, he began to say, “O lord! you have done me a great kindness in having removed my pride, by which I had been blinded; who has understanding sufficient to comprehend your actions, unless you take compassion upon him? Your illusory power has fascinated all; who is there with powers to fascinate you? You are the god of all; in every hair of your body there are many Bruhmùs like me: in what reckoning am I? O kind to the poor! be pleased now compassionately to forgive my offence, and take not thought of my fault.”
Having heard thus much, Shree Krishnù smiled: Bruhmù then brought all the cowherds’ children and the calves in a state of sleep: and being ashamed, and offering praises to Krishnù, went to his own abode. The assembly was formed exactly as it was before: although a year had passed, no one was aware of it. When the cowherds’ children awoke, Krishnù collected the calves. Upon this, some of the children said, “Brother! you have brought the calves quickly; we have not had time to eat our food.”
Hearing this, Krishnù said laughing, “I was anxious on your account—I found the calves, grazing near in one place; let us now go home, having come here very early in the morning.” Conversing thus, and taking the calves with them, they all came home, laughing and playing.
Shree Shookdeosaid,—O great king! when Shree Krishnù was eight years of age, he one day said to Jusodha, “Mother! I will go and take the cows to feed; do you prevail on my father to send me with the cowherds.” Hearing this, Jusodha spoke to Nund Jee on the subject. He having fixed upon a lucky division of time, equal to forty-eight minutes, sent for the cowherds’ children; and on the eighth of the light part of the month Kartik, having caused Krishnù to perform poojah to a cowshed, he said in a supplicating manner to the cowherds, “Brothers! from to-day, take Ram Krishnù with you, when you take the cows to pasture: but stay near him, and do not leave him alone in the jungle.” Having thus said, and given them food, and marked Krishnù and Bulram on the forehead with coagulated milk, he dismissed them in company with all the rest. They were delighted, and went to the jungle with the cowherds’ children and the cows. There, on beholding the beauty of the jungle, Shree Krishnù began to say to Buldeo, “Buldeo! this is a very pleasant, agreeable place; see, how the trees are bending under the weight of their branches, and beasts and birds of various kinds, sporting in every direction!”
When he had thus spoken, they ascended a high hillock, and began waiving white cloths over their heads, to call out to the cows of different colours, viz. black, white, yellow, purple, brown, blue. On hearing their voices, they all came running up, lowing and panting. At this time there was an appearance of such beauty, that it seemed as if clouds of different colours had been collected from the four quarters. After this, Shree Krishnù Chund having driven away the cows to feed, and having eaten his meal with his brother, went to sleep under the shade of a kudum tree, placing his head on the thigh of a companion. Having awoke after some time, he said to Bulram, “Let us play this game: let us fight together, each arranging a separate army in battle order.” When he had thus spoken, they divided the cows and cowherds’ children into two equal portions; then gathering fruits and flowers from the jungle and filling wallets with them, they began to play upon different kinds of martial instruments, and engaging with each other, to call out. They fought in this manner for some time, and then having taken their divisions apart, they began to tend upon the cows (that is, take them to pasture.)
At this time, one of his companions said to Buldeo Jee, “O great king! at a short distance from this, there is a palm jungle, in which there are fruits, equal in flavour to nectar; an evil spirit in the shape of an ass keeps guard there.” On hearing this, Bulram Jee went into that jungle with the cowherds’ children and began knocking down the fruits by throwing bricks, stones, clods and sticks. Having heard the noise, the ass, whose name was Dhenook, came braying to the spot; and on coming up, he turned round and kicked Buldeo Jee twice on the chest: upon which, having taken him up, Buldeo dashed him on the ground. After rolling about, the ass again got up; and pawing the ground, and putting his ears down, he began to go back, and continue kicking with both hind legs. He continued fighting in this manner for some time. On a sudden Bulram Jee having seized both his hind legs, and twisting them round, threw him upon a high tree, from which he fell down dead: and with him the tree fell also, broken in pieces. There was a very loud noise in consequence of the fall of both, and all the trees of the forest were shaken. Having beheld from a distance, Krishnù said, “The trees have been shaken, and there has been a great noise.” A friend of Buldeo’s came, (and said) “Come quickly Krishnù, Buldeo has sent for you: A demon has been killed, and is lying on the ground.” On hearing this, Shree Krishnù went also to Bulram. Then all the demons, who were companions of Dhenook, came and attacked him. Shree Krishnù Chund easily destroyed them all. Then the cowherds’ children being delighted and plucking the fruit without fear, filled as many baskets as they wished; and having brought all the cows together, they said to Shree Krishnù and Buldeo Jee, “O great kings! it is very long since we came here, let us now go home.” On hearing this, both brothers, taking the cows with them, came home laughing and playing with the cowherds’ children in the evening, and distributed the fruits they brought throughout the whole of Brindabun. Having dismissed all their friends and companions they went to sleep. In the morning they rose very early, and Krishnù having called the cowherds’ children, and giving them breakfast, taking the cows with him, went to the jungle; and whilst feeding the cows, they came to the whirlpool where the serpent Kalee lived—there the cowherds watered the cows in the Jumna, and drank some water themselves. When they got up after having drank the water, they, as well as the cows, began rolling on the ground, in consequence of the poison. Upon this, Shree Krishnù having looked at them with an immortal glance, (a glance like nectar,) restored them all to life.
Shree Shookdeo Jeesaid,—O great king! having thus preserved them all, Shree Krishnù Chund began to play at ball with the cowherds’ children; and where Kalee was, the water of the Jumna for the distance of four koss boiled in consequence of poison; no beast or bird could approach it: If any went by mistake, they were scorched by the heat, and fell into the whirlpool; and no tree was produced on its banks. There was a solitary, everlasting kudum tree on one shore. The Raja enquired,—“O great king! how did that kudum tree escape?” The sage said, On one occasion the bird of Vishnù having ambrosia in its beak, alighted on that tree; a drop fell from its bill, and for this reason, that tree escaped. Having proceeded thus far in the narration, Shree Shookdeo Jee said to the Raja,—O great king! Shree Krishnù Chund Jee having determined upon the destruction of Kalee, whilst engaged in playing at ball, climbed up the kudum tree; and as one of his companions threw the ball from below, it fell into the Jumna, and Shree Krishnù jumped in at the same time. Having heard the sound of his jumping in, Kalee began to vomit forth poison, and hissing flames to say, “Who is this that can live so long in the whirlpool? Perhaps the undecayable tree, not able to bear my heat, has fallen into the water, broken in pieces; or some great beast or bird has come, the noise of which is still heard.” Having thus said the serpent vomited forth poison from a hundred and ten hoods, while Shree Krishnù continued swimming. At this time, his companions, weeping and stretching out their hands, called out; the cows with their mouths open ran about on all sides, lowing and panting; the cowherds apart were saying, “Krishnù come out quickly; otherwise, what answer shall we give, if we go home without you?” They were grieved, and continued speaking thus, when one of them went to Brindabun, and mentioned, that Shree Krishnù had jumped into the whirlpool of Kalee. On hearing this, Rohnee, Jusodha and Nund, with the cowherdesses and cowherds, came running out weeping, and tumbling over each other on the way, reached the whirlpool all together. Not seeing Shree Krishnù there, Nund’s wife being agitated, rushed straight forward to throw herself into the waters. The cowherdesses, interposing, laid hold of her; and the cowherds’ children having seized Nund Jee, thus addressed him—“Having left the great forest, we have come into this one; nevertheless devils have vexed us exceedingly. Great good fortune has befallen from evil spirits, (that is, Krishnù has obtained many successes over them) now how will Huri come forth from the whirlpool?” In the meantime, Buldeo Jee arrived there also after them, and explained to all the inhabitants of Bruj—“The immortal Krishnù will come forth immediately; why are you sad? I did not come with him to-day; Huri has gone into the whirlpool without me.” Having told so much of the story, Shree Shookdeo Jee said to the Raja Pureechit,—O great king! whilst Bulram Jee was thus instilling confidence into all the inhabitants of Bruj, Shree Krishnù went swimming close to Kalee, who came, and wound himself round his whole body. Upon this Shree Krishnù became so large, that having quitted him, Kalee came into the jungle. When hissing, he attacked Krishnù with his hoods, he guarded himself. Seeing that the inhabitants of Bruj were very much grieved, Shree Krishnù, having jumped up suddenly, sat all at once on Kalee’s head. Having the weight of three worlds, Krishnù was very heavy: he continued dancing on the different hoods, and beat time with his foot. Upon this, Kalee began to die from the weight, and having dashed his hoods against the ground, put out his tongues, from which streams of blood flowed. When all pride of his poison and strength had departed, he thought “That the first man had descended upon the earth; otherwise, who has such power that he could escape from my poison?” Thinking thus, and having abandoned all hope of life, he remained stupified with fear. The serpent’s wife then came and joining her hands, and bowing her head, said to Shree Krishnù Chund in a supplicating tone, “O great king! you have done well in having destroyed the pride of this tyrannous and presumptuous creature; he has been fortunate in having now seen you—the feet, which Bruhmù and all the other gods contemplate, offering up prayers with devout austerity, shine conspicuously on the head of Kalee.” Having spoken thus, she said again, “O great king! have compassion on me, and release Kalee; if not, destroy me also with him; because it is proper for a wife without her husband, (that is, deprived of her husband,) to die: and if you consider, he is not all in fault, this is the custom of our kind, that by having milk given us to drink, our poison increases.” Having heard this speech of the serpent’s wife, Shree Krishnù Chund jumped down from Kalee’s head. Then Kalee, making an obeisance and joining his hands, said, “Lord! be pleased to forgive my offence: I, through ignorance, attacked you with my hoods; I am a serpent of an inferior caste, whence could I have the intelligence to recognize you?” Shree Krishnù said, “What has happened, has happened; but do not live here any longer, go and dwell with your family in the island of Kounuck.” On hearing this, Kalee said with fear and trembling, “O lord of liberality! if I go there, the bird, upon which Vishnù rides, will eat me up; from dread of which I ran off, and have come here.”
Shree Krishnù said, “Go there now without fear; no one will say any thing to you, after having seen the marks of my feet on your head.” Having thus spoken, and sent for the bird of Vishnù, Shree Krishnù Chund dissipated the fears of Kalee’s mind. Then Kalee having offered up devotion in the manner prescribed, with perfumes, lamps and consecrated food, and having placed many gifts before Krishnù, joining his hands, said in a supplicatory tone, after he had obtained permission to depart—“You have danced for four ghurees on my forehead: Lord! remember this act of friendship.” Thus having spoken, and made an obeisance, Kalee went with his family to the island of Kounuck, and Shree Krishnù Chund came out of the water.
Havingheard thus much of the story, Raja Pureechit enquired from Shree Shookdeo Jee,—“O great king! the island of Kounuck was a fine place; why did Kalee come away from it, and why did he remain in the Jumna? Explain this to me, that the doubts of my mind may depart.” Shree Shookdeo said,—Raja! the bird, upon which Huri rides, dwells in the island of Kounuck, it is very powerful; for this reason the great serpents in that quarter acknowledging his superiority, constantly gave him a snake. They brought it, and placed it upon a tree: he came and devoured it. One day Kalee, the son of the serpent Kudroo, presuming on his poison, went and ate up the food of Vishnù’s bird. In the meantime, the bird came there, and there was a great deal of fighting between the two. Of a sudden Kalee having given up all for lost, began to say to himself, “How shall I escape from him, and where shall I go?” Having thus said, he thought that if he were to go and dwell at Brindabun on the banks of the Jumna, he would escape, because the bird could not go there; thinking thus, Kalee proceeded there. Again the Raja Pureechit enquired from Shookdeo, “O great king! explain to me, why he could not go there.” Shookdeo Jee said,—Raja! once on a time Suobhis, the sage, seated on the bank of the Jumna, was engaged in devotion: the bird of Vishnù, having gone there, killed and ate a fish. Then the sage, being angry, pronounced this curse upon him, “If you ever come here again, you shall not escape with life.” For this reason, the bird could not go there; and from the time Kalee went to that place, it was called the whirlpool of Kalee. Having recited thus much, Shree Shookdeo Jee said, when Shree Krishnù Chund came out of the water Nund and Jusodha being rejoiced, gave many gifts, and performed many acts of charity. Their eyes were delighted at beholding the countenance of their son, and (by beholding) life was restored to all the inhabitants of Bruj. In the evening they said to each other, “How shall we go home now, having suffered fatigue, hunger and thirst all day long? Let us pass the night here, and go to Brindabun in the morning.” Having thus said, they all fell asleep.
At midnight there was a heavy storm, and a conflagration on all sides. Trees, forests and cattle were all destroyed by the fire.
When the fire occurred, they all started from sleep, and being frightened, and looking round on all sides, they began to stretch out their hands, and call out—“Krishnù! Krishnù! save us quickly from this fire; or it will reduce us all to ashes in an instant.” When the inhabitants of Bruj, together with Nund and Jusodha, had called out thus, Shree Krishnù Chund Jee rising, drank up the fire in a moment, and put an end to all their anxiety. They returned to Brindabun early in the morning, and there were rejoicings and songs of congratulation in every house.
Havingproceeded thus far in the narrative, Shree Shookdeo said,—O great king! listen attentively, and I will explain the seasons and the different sports Krishnù engaged in, in the course of them. The hot season came first, and by its arrival, took away all the pleasure of the world; and having heated the earth and atmosphere, made them like fire; but owing to the glory of Krishnù, there was constant spring in Brindabun. There creepers bloomed on numerous arbours of trees; flowers of different kinds blossomed, upon which there was the buzzing of swarms of bees. Kokilas poured forth their notes on the mango branches, and peacocks strutted about in cool, shady places. A sweetly scented breeze was blowing, and on one side of the jungle, the retired Jumna exhibited its beauty. Krishnù and Bulram left the cows, and were engaged in all sorts of rare sports with their companions, when a demon, named Purlunt, who had been sent by Kuns, came in the form of a cowherd. On seeing him, Shree Krishnù said to Buldeo with a wink—“This is no friend of ours, Bulbeer, this is an evil spirit, who has come in a disguised form. Let us take measures for his destruction, we cannot kill him while he is in the form of a cowherd; when he assumes his own form, do you kill him immediately.”
Having thus instructed Buldeo, Shree Krishnù Jee laughing and calling Purlunt to him, took hold of his hand and said, “Your appearance is most beautiful; you are certainly our friend, without any deceit.”
Having thus spoken, and taking Purlunt with him, he divided the cowherds’ children into two equal portions, taking half himself and giving half to Bulram Jee, and having made two of their young companions sit down, he and Bulram began to ask, and explain the names of fruits and flowers.
In this sport of explanation Shree Krishnù lost, Buldeo won. Then those who were on Shree Krishnù’s side ran off with the companions of Buldeo on their shoulders. Purlunt outstripped them all, taking Bulram with him, and having reached the jungle, he began to increase in size.
Buldeo on this black hill-like (monster,) appeared as beautiful as the moon in a dark-coloured cloud, and the splendour of his ear-rings was as dazzling as lightning, the perspiration fell from him like rain. Having narrated thus much, Shree Shookdeo Jee said to the Raja Pureechit,—O great king! when having got him alone, the demon was on the point of destroying Buldeo, he killed Purlunt with blows.
Shree Shookdeo Jeesaid,—Raja! when Bulram returned, after having killed Purlunt, he met Krishnù with his companions. And the cowherds’ children, who were in the jungle pasturing the cows, having heard that a demon had been killed, left their cows and came to look at him. The cows in the mean while went from one grass jungle to another. When the two brothers arrived, they could not see any cows.
The cows and cowherds were dispersed: they lost their road, and wandered about the grass and palm jungles. Climbing up trees, they (the cowherds’ children) called out to each other, and repeating names, they waived cloths in the air.
In the meantime, one of his companions came, and said to Krishnù, joining his hands, “O great king! the cowherds’ children and the cows having broken through (or destroyed,) the Mouj jungle have been mixed up together, just in the same way as in the months of Sawun and Bhadon, rivers rushing along with high waves, mix in the sea.” At this time they perceived that there was a fire blazing furiously. On seeing it, the cowherds and their companions, being greatly alarmed and frightened, called out, “Krishnù! Krishnù! save us quickly from this fire or we shall all be instantly burnt to death.” Krishnu said, “All of you shut your eyes.” When they had shut their eyes, Krishnù, having put out the fire in a second, caused another delusion, and having taken off the cowherds’ children with the cows into a fig tree forest, told them to open their eyes.
The cowherds having opened their eyes, said, gazing round, “Where has that fire gone, Krishnù? When did we come into the fig tree forest: this is indeed strange, Bulbeer?”
Having thus said, they accompanied Krishnù and Bulram with the cows to Brindabun, and each went home and mentioned, that Bulram had that day killed a demon, named Purlunt; and that there had been a fire in the Mouj forest, which, through the power of Krishnù, had been extinguished. Having narrated thus much, Shree Shookdeo Jee said,—Raja! hearing these words from the mouths of the cowherds’ children, all the inhabitants of Bruj went out to see: but they obtained no clue to the actions of Krishnù.
Shree Shookdeo, the sage, said,—O great king! having seen the excessive violence of the hot season, the mighty king of the rains, taking compassion on the four-footed beasts, and birds and animals of the earth, and having collected clouds from all quarters, came forth to fight. At this time the thunder of the clouds was like the sounds of drums; and the clouds, of different colours, which were collected together, were brave and resolute heroes. In the midst of these the flashing of the lightning was as the glittering of arms. Here and there rows of cranes in their flight looked like white flags: frogs and peacocks sung praises, like bards, who accompany armies, and the continued rain fell in large drops like arrows.
Beholding the rainy season approach in this splendid style, the hot season abandoned the plains, and ran off with its life. Then the lord of the clouds, having rained upon the earth, conferred gladness upon it. She (the earth) having performed penance during eight months’ separation from her lord, now compensated herself by enjoyment.
Her breasts came down and became cold. She was pregnant, and had eighteen sons; who, taking presents of fruits and flowers, went to pay respects to their father. The land of Brindabun appeared as beautiful at that time as a loving woman, adorned with ornaments. And on all sides the rivers, nullahs and tanks were full; on which were waterfowl of different kinds, adding beauty to the scene. The branches of lofty trees were waiving to and fro; and on them cuckoos, pigeons, parrots and other birds were pouring forth their mingled notes. And here and there the cowherdesses and cowherds, dressed in red and yellow dresses, and swinging, were singing melodies in high notes. Approaching them, Shree Krishnù and Bulram afforded them great pleasure by engaging in, and exhibiting, their youthful sports. In this delightful manner the rainy season passed away; then Shree Krishnù began to say to the cowherds’ children, “Brothers! the pleasure-giving surud season has now come. Now all, I know, will enjoy great pleasure; now is the season of enjoyment and fine weather. The stars by night shine in the sky, brilliant as the passionless Bruhmù. For four months we have remained in the house; now that the surud season has come, let us give up all love for it, (the house). People run to and fro, occupied with their respective affairs. Princes proceed to conquer foreign countries.”
Shree Shookdeo Jeesaid,—O great king! Shree Krishnù Chund having thus spoken, took the cowherds’ children with him again to engage in sports. And whilst Krishnù was absent in the jungle, grazing the cows, the cowherdesses remained in their houses, singing his praises. One day Shree Krishnù played on the flute in the jungle: and, on hearing the sound of the flute, all the women of Bruj stood up in a state of agitation; and, having assembled in one place, sat down on the road they began to say to each other, “Our eyes will then be fully gratified when we behold Krishnù; he is now with the cows in the jungle, dancing and singing, in the evening he will return, and then we shall see him.” On hearing this a cowherdess said, “Hear me friend! he has played upon the flute, and behold what greatness he has conferred upon the bamboo!”
“What excellent qualities has it, that Shree Krishnù’s mouth should be fastened to it all day long. And having drank the nectar of his lips, and raining forth joy, (it) the flute emits sounds like the clouds?
“What, is it more beloved than ourselves, that Krishnù keeps it near him day and night?
“It was made in our presence, and has now become a rival to us, being constantly on his person.
“When Shree Krishnù, having wiped the flute with a yellow silk cloth, plays upon it, the gods, sages, celestial choristers and musicians taking their wives with them and seated in their chariots, come eagerly to hear him, and being fascinated by hearing him, they become fixed and motionless as pictures. What penance has the flute performed, that all are so subservient to it?”
Another cowherdess said in reply, “Having first of all been produced in the stock of the bamboo, the flute kept Huri in constant remembrance. Afterwards it endured heat, cold and rain. Suddenly, being broken up into small pieces, it burnt its body in fire and inhaled smoke.
“This is the penance it has performed, by means of which it has become complete, and obtained this result (fruit).”
Having heard this, one of the Bruj women said, “Why has the lord of Bruj not formed us into flutes, that we might stay with Huri day and night?” Having narrated thus much, Shree Shookdeo Jee said to the Raja Pureechit,—O great king! the cowherdesses constantly sung the praises of Krishnù, until his return from grazing the cows in the jungles.
Shree Shookdeo, the sage, said, on the departure of the surud season, the winter came, when there was very great cold and frost. At this time the women of Bruj said to one another, “By bathing in the month Aghun, the sins of every birth are obliterated, and the hopes of the mind are accomplished. I have heard so from old people.” On hearing this, they all resolved to bathe in Aghun, that they might without doubt obtain Shree Krishnù. Having resolved upon this, and risen very early in the morning, the women of Bruj dressed and ornamented themselves, and went in a body to bathe in the Jumna. Having bathed and made an offering to the sun, of eight ingredients, coming out of the water, they made an earthen image of Parvutee. Putting sandal, rice, flowers and fruits upon it, placing before it perfumes, lamps and consecrated food, performing poojah with hands joined, and holding their heads, they beseeched Parvutee, saying “O Dewee! we constantly supplicate this boon from you, that Shree Krishnù may be our lord.” In this manner the cowherdesses constantly bathed. Fasting all day, they ate coagulated milk and rice in the evening, and slept on the ground at night. With a view of quickly obtaining the fruit of their fasting, all the women of Bruj went one day to a very steep ghaut to bathe; and on arrival, having taken off their clothes, and placed them on the bank, they went naked into the water. They began sporting about, and singing the praises of Huri.
Shree Krishnú was also at this time pasturing cows, sitting under the shade of a fig tree. Having heard by chance the sound of their singing, he came silently to the spot, and having concealed himself began to look on. A sudden thought struck him, while he was looking on, and having stolen all their clothes, he climbed up a “kudum” tree, and placed them all in a bundle before him. In the meantime, the cowherdesses looking on the bank for their clothes could not find them. Being alarmed, they got up and began searching all round, and saying to each other, “Not even a bird has come here; who can have taken away our clothes?” Just then a cowherdess saw Krishnù sitting hid on a “kudum” tree, with a crown on his head, a club in his hand, marked with saffron on the forehead, in a yellow silk dress, with a garland of flowers reaching to his feet, and preserving a strict silence, with a bundle of clothes before him. She called out, “Behold him! who has stolen our hearts and our clothes, seated on a ‘kudum’ tree with our bundles.” Hearing this, and seeing Krishnù, all the women were ashamed, sitting down in the water, joining their hands and bending their heads, they supplicated and entreated Krishnù, saying “O compassionate to the poor! beloved destroyer of our griefs! O Mohun! please give us our clothes.” Krishnù replied, “By the oath of Nund, I will not give them thus; come out of the water one by one, and you shall obtain your clothes.”
The women of Bruj said angrily, “This is a pretty lesson you have learnt, in telling us to come out of the water naked. We will go and tell this to your father and brother, and they will come and lay hold of you as a thief. And we will mention it also to Nund and Jusodha, who will teach you better. We are ashamed at what you have done; you have put an end to all recognition (acquaintance) between us.” On hearing this, Shree Krishnù Jee was enraged and said, “You shall not have the clothes until you come, and fetch them yourselves.” The cowherdesses were alarmed and said, “O kind to the poor! it is you, who constantly keep us in remembrance, and who are the guardian of our good name; how shall we fetch them? It is for your sake, that we have offered up our vows, and bathed in the month of Mungsir.” Krishnù replied, “If you have bathed with sincerity on my account in the month of Aghun, lay aside all bashfulness and deceit, and come and take your clothes.” When Shree Krishnù Chund had thus spoken, the cowherdesses on reflection began to say to each other, “Let us go friend! let us mind what Krishnù says, because he knows all the secrets of our bodies and minds. Why should we be ashamed before him?” Having thus determined, acting according to what Shree Krishnù had said, and concealing their breasts and privities with their hands, all the women came out of the water, bowing their heads. When they stood opposite to Shree Krishnù on the bank, he said laughing, “Now put your hands together, and come forward, and I will give you your clothes.” The cowherdesses said, “Darling of Nund! why do you deceive us, we are plain, simple women of Bruj. We have been tricked, and all our mind and memory are gone. Is this the game you have determined upon playing, Huri? Whenever we think of this, we shall be ashamed; now do something for us, O lord of Bruj!” When they had thus spoken, and put their hands together, Shree Krishnù Chund Jee giving them their clothes, and approaching them said, “Be not displeased at what has happened, because this is a lesson I have given you. The habitation of the god Varoonù is in water: for this reason, if any one goes naked into the water, his character is entirely destroyed. Having been delighted at beholding the affection of your mind, I have told you this secret, now go home, and return in the month of Kartik to dance the circular dance with me.”
Shree Shookdeo, the sage, said,—O great king! the cowherdesses having heard this speech, returned to their homes, delighted and satisfied. And Shree Krishnù, having come to the fig tree, went along with the cowherds’ children and their companions and cows. Beholding on all sides jungle of various kinds, they began to speak in high terms of trees, saying, “that after coming into the world, they themselves suffered many troubles, and afforded pleasure to mankind. It is thus, that the coming into the world of those, who are attentive to the interests of others is beneficial.” Conversing in this manner and advancing onward, they arrived near the Jumna.
Shree Shookdeo Jeesaid, when Shree Krishnù, having arrived near the Jumna, was standing under a tree, leaning on a club, all the cowherds’ children and their companions came, and joining their hands said,—“O great king! we are very hungry; we have eaten all the food we brought with us, still our hunger has not gone off.” Krishnù replied, “Observe that smoke, which appears some distance off. The inhabitants of Muttra are offering sacrifice secretly from fear of Kuns: go to them, and having mentioned my name, and made an obeisance, stand before them with hands joined; and from a distance ask for food with the same humility, as meek beggars ask for it.”
The cowherds, after hearing this speech, went to the spot where the inhabitants of Muttra were sacrificing, (were seated preparing the sacrifice.) Having gone, and paid their respects, they said with the greatest humility, joining their hands,—“O great kings! Shree Krishnù Chund Jee has, with deferential respect, sent this message to you through us, he is very hungry, and would be much obliged if you would kindly send him something to eat.” When the inhabitants of Muttra had heard this message from the cowherds, they replied angrily, “You must be very hungry to make such a request at this time; we will not give any one any thing until the sacrifice is completed, when we have made the offering; if any thing remains, we will distribute it.” The cowherds, imploring them again earnestly, said with importunity,—“O great kings! it is an act of great virtue to give food to a hungry man, who comes to your house.” They listened not to what the cowherds urged; but turning away from them, said to each other—“These are very foolish, low cowherds, who beg for food in the middle of a sacrifice.” The cowherds, returning thence displeased and with great regret, came and said to Krishnù,—“O great king! we have forfeited our dignity and character by begging, and have not obtained any thing to eat: what shall we do now?” Shree Krishnù Jee said, “Go and ask their wives: they are very kind and virtuous. Observe their affection: on seeing you, they will give you food with the utmost respect and deference.”
Having heard this, the cowherds went to the place, where the wives were cooking, and said to them, “Shree Krishnù has become hungry, while pasturing cows in the jungle, and has sent us to you—if you have any thing to eat, give it us.” They were delighted on hearing these words from the cowherds, and ran off and brought gold dishes, filled with food of all sorts and flavours—and would not admit any one hindering or preventing them.
A woman of Muttra, whose husband would not allow her to go, having meditated and quitted her body, arrived before them all, and joined Krishnù’s party, in the same way that water mixes (or unites) with water. And after her the rest of the women came to the place where Krishnù was standing with the cowherds’ children under the shade of a tree, with his hand on a companion’s shoulder, his figure bent, and a lotus in his hand. On approaching him they placed the dishes before him, and having made an obeisance, they said to each other, on beholding the countenance of Huri, “Friend! this is Nund’s son; let us completely gratify our eyes by looking at the moon-like face of him, on whom we meditated upon hearing his name; and let us receive the fruit, (that is,) the darling object of our lives.” Conversing thus, and joining their hands together, they began to say in a tone of solicitation to Krishnù, “O lord of compassion! except through your mercy, who can obtain a sight of you. Great is our good fortune to-day, that we have seen you, and got rid of all our sins in every birth!
“The foolish, avaricious proud priests, whose minds have been stained by the spirit, avarice and fascination of wealth, regarded God as man. How shall men, blinded by delusion, recognize the difference? Why should they not give food to him, to whom they offer up prayers, penance, sacrifice and love?
“O great king! that wealth, those mortals, and that modesty are advantageous, which may be useful to you; and likewise the penance, prayers and knowledge, by which your name is celebrated.” After hearing this, Shree Krishnù Chund, having made enquiries about their welfare and condition, said, “Do not make obeisance to me, I am merely the child of the chief Nund. Do they who cause themselves to be worshipped by Brahmins’ wives, obtain greatness in the world? knowing me to be hungry, you took compassion, and thought of me in the jungle. How shall I now entertain you? Brindabun, my home, is far off; how shall I be able to treat you with proper dignity and respect? If I were there, I would bring flowers and fruits, and place them before you. You have suffered inconvenience on my account by coming into the jungle; and I regret, that I have not been able to serve you in any way.” He said again in the same complaisant manner, “It is a long time since you came here: be pleased now to go home, as the Brahmins, your husbands, will be expecting you; because the sacrifice is not propitious without the presence of the wife.” Having heard this speech of Krishnù’s, they said, joining their hands, “O great king! we fixing our affections on your lotus-like feet, have abandoned all feelings of consideration for our families and relatives. How can we return to those, in disobedience to whose injunctions we came here? If they will not admit us into their houses, where shall we live; for which reason it is better that we should remain under your protection. And lord, one of our women, from a wish to see you, was coming here, her husband stopped her, and the wife being distracted resigned her life.” When Krishnù heard this, he laughed, and showed them the woman who had quitted her body, and said, “They who show love for Huri are never destroyed. She came here before you all.” Having narrated thus much, Shree Shookdeo Jee said,—O great king! on seeing her, they were all astonished. Afterwards, when they recovered their understanding, they began to sing the virtues of Huri. In the meantime Krishnù having eaten the food they gave him, said to them, “Return home now, your husbands will not say any thing.” When Shree Krishnù had thus explained to them, having made their salutations they took their departure and went home. And their husbands, engaged in thought and expressing great regret, continued saying, “We have heard a story in the Pooranùs, that at one time Nund and Jusodha performed great penance for a son; and Bhugwan came and gave them a promise, that he would descend upon the earth in the family of Judoo, and go to their house. He has been born, and it was he, who sent to procure food through the cowherds’ children. What have we done in refusing food to Krishnù, when he asked it? To-day we have not gone into the presence of him, for whose sake sacrifice and religion have been established. We regarded Krishnù as a mortal, and did not listen to what the cowherds said. Accursed are our minds, and the performance of this sacrifice, that we did not recognize Bhugwan, and worship him. Our wives are superior to us, who went in such a spirited manner to behold Krishnù, and gave him food with their own hands, without having offered prayers, penance or sacrifice.” Thus expressing their regret, the inhabitants of Muttra said in presence of their wives, joining their hands, “Great is your good fortune in having seen Huri, your lives have been most propitious.”