166 THE HIGHLANDS OF CENTRAL INDIA 



Saw tte grotto of a hermit, 

 Old and sage, the Black Kumait, 

 He the very wise and knowing. 

 He the greatest of Magicians, 

 Bom in days that are forgotten. 

 In the unremembered ages. 

 Salutation gave, and asked him — 

 " Tell, Hermit ! Great Kumait ! 

 Where my Sixteen Scores of Gonds 

 are. 

 Then replied the Black Ma- 

 gician, 

 Spake disdainfully ia this wise — 

 " Liago hear, your Gonds are 



asses, 

 Eatiag cats, and mice, and bandi- 

 coots, 

 Eatiag pigs, and cows, and bufia- 



loes ; 

 Filthy wretches ! wherefore ask 



me ? 

 If you wish it I will teU you. 

 Our great Mahadeva caught them, 

 And has shut them up securely 

 In a cave within the bowels 

 Of his mountain Dewalgiri, 

 With a stone of sixteen cubits. 

 And his bulldog fierce Basmasur. 

 Serve them right too, I consider. 

 Filthy, casteless, stinking 



wretches ! " 

 And the Hermit to his grotto 

 Back returned, and deeply pon- 

 dered 

 On the days that are forgotten, 

 On the unremembered ages. 

 But our Lingo wandered on- 

 wards, 

 Fasting, praying, doing penance ; 

 Laid him on a bed of prickles. 

 Thorns long and sharp and pierc- 

 ing; 

 Fasting lay he devotee-like. 

 Hand not lifting, foot not lifting. 

 Eye not opening, nothing seeing. 

 Twelve months long thus lay and 



fasted, 

 Till his flesh was dry and 

 withered. 



And the bones began to show 

 through. 

 Then the Great God Mah^devd 

 Felt his seat begin to tremble. 

 Felt his golden stool all shaking 

 From the penance of our Lingo. 

 Felt, and wondered who on earth 

 This devotee was that was fasting 

 Till his golden stool was shaking. 

 Stepped he down from Dewalgiri, 

 Came and saw that bed of prickles 

 Where our Lingo lay unmoving. 

 Asked him what Ms little game 



was. 

 Why his golden stool was shaking ? 

 Answered Lingo, " Mighty Euler ! 

 Nothing less will stop that shaking 

 Than my Sixteen Scores of Koitor 

 Rendered up all safe and hurtless 

 From your cave in Dewalgiri." 

 Then the Great God, much dis- 

 gusted, 

 Ofiered all he had to Lingo, 

 Offered kingdom, name, and riches, 

 Ofiered anything he wished for, 

 " Only leave your stinking Koitor 

 Well shut up in Dewalgiri." 

 But OUT Lingo all refusing 

 Would have nothing but his 



Koitor ; 

 Gave a turn to run the thorns a 

 Little deeper in his midriff. 

 Winced the Great God, " Very 



well then. 

 Take your Gonds — ^but first a 



favour. 

 By the shore of the Black Water 

 Lives a bird they call Black Bindo ; 

 Much I wish to see his young ones, 

 Little Bindos from the sea-shore ; 

 For an offering bring these Bindos, 

 Then your Gonds take from my 

 mountain." 

 Then our Lingo rose and wan- 

 dered, 

 Wandered onwards through the 



forest, 

 Till he reached the sounding sea- 

 shore. 



