In the great and glorious days of the Badshah Akbar (Emperor), he had a very favourite minister of the name of Birbal. This minister was without doubt the ablest statesman at the Court, and no State question was decided without reference to him.

Some say he was also a general in the army, and that by his skill he greatly assisted Akbar to extend his dominions. Birbal was, however, a Hindu, a Brahman of the tribe of BhÂt, and his real name was Mahes Das, but so tolerant was “Akbar Badshah” to all religious sects that if a man were wise and skilful he cared not of what faith he might happen to be. Birbal was also full of wit and humour, and had such a pleasing way of putting things, that he could talk to the Badshah in a manner that other ministers would not dare to do.

It so happened, however, that one day he unwittingly gave offence to the Badshah, and so enraged did Akbar become that Birbal, fearing his wrath, fled the country. Disguising himself as a Fakir, he begged his way from village to village, and at last settled down on the extreme frontier of the Badshah’s empire.

Days and months passed by, and the Badshah began to feel more and more the loss of his once favourite minister, and though himself searching in the villages near at hand, and making diligent enquiries everywhere, he failed to discover the slightest trace of him.

Crushed by grief and broken-hearted, he at last called a council of his ministers, and stated to them how much he missed the presence about him of his old attached friend Birbal. They, perhaps somewhat jealous of his pre-eminence in the mind of the Badshah, seemed to be callous and indifferent as to his fate. Whereupon the Badshah became as enraged with them as he had before been with Birbal, and threatened to decapitate them if his hiding-place were not soon discovered, and the runaway brought back to him.

The ministers and nobles in their alarm, at last hit upon an expedient which they submissively laid before the Badshah.

They said, “Oh Badshah! If an order is given throughout the Empire of so senseless and foolish a nature that it will be impossible for any of your Majesty’s subjects to comply with it, there is just a chance that we may be able to find out the place of concealment of the ever terse and humorous Birbal.”

The Badshah listened to their suggestion, told them to act up to it, but under any circumstances, and at the cost of their heads if they failed, Birbal must be brought ere long into the Presence.

Accordingly an edict went forth calling upon the “Headman” of every village in the Dominions, on pain of death, to bring the principal “well” of the village to do obeisance to the King’s “well” at the Palace. The edict was entrusted to horsemen who conveyed it to every village in the Empire.

The whole country was filled with lamentation and distress, for it was seen to be impossible to conform to the order of the Badshah.

When the proclamation reached the village where Birbal was in hiding, he shared in the sorrow around him, and bethought him of a way of escape for the people, but he was known to them only as a Fakir.

At last he said to the Headman of his village, “Take with you some of your principal tenants, and go to the outside of the Badshah’s Palace; then send a messenger within the Palace, to say that in obedience to the order of the Badshah you have brought your ‘well’ without the walls, and that it is ready to do obeisance to the King’s ‘well.’ Say also that as it is the custom of the country for the elder brother to advance to meet the younger, that as soon as your ‘well’ sees the King’s ‘well’ approaching to it through the gates of the city, it will without delay rise to pay its respect, and accompany it back to the Palace.”

This they did exactly as the disguised Fakir, Birbal, had told them. Arriving at the outside of the city walls they deputed the most intelligent man of their party to present himself before the Emperor.

The Emperor was seated on his “Peacock Throne,” or “Takht-e-Taoos,” having on the right of the Throne a courtier carrying the “Golden Hand” to keep off the Evil Eye, and known as “Punjah,” from its having five fingers extended; and upon the left another courtier, bearing the emblem of the Fish, termed in Arabic the “Mahee-MoorÂtib,” the badge of dignity and success.

The Messenger advanced to the Throne and stated his mission to the Emperor, and ended by saying that the “well” of his village was without the city walls, waiting to receive the King’s “well.”

The Emperor was baffled for the time, and then turning to one of his ministers, he directed him to visit the delegates beyond the walls. The minister went, and at once returned, saying that the reply to the Badshah’s order and to the proclamation, given with such sagacity and wit, could come, he thought, from no other than the absent minister. This the Emperor was ready to credit, and a clue being thus obtained, the ministers formed a party and proceeded to the village, where after some little time, they succeeded in discovering Birbal in the austere garb of a mendicant Fakir.

Surprised and powerless, he was conveyed back to the city, and to the Royal Presence, and the Emperor came forward to receive him; and then after a few formal greetings the Emperor ordered a robe of honour to be brought and put upon him, and he was again promoted to his position and rank at the Court.

It was not long after this that the country was at war again with the Pathans and tribes in the “Buner” Mountains. Birbal was given the chief command, and here in one of the first engagements he was unfortunately killed, but his name still lives amongst us as the most able and witty minister that the Badshah Akbar had ever called to his councils.

“Akbar and Birbal.”—Both Akbar and Birbal have their place in history, about A.D. 1586, and doubtless this tale is told amongst many others current in India in order to keep in memory the wit and humour of Akbar’s most favourite minister. It is not old folk-lore, but finds a place here as oral tradition on the Indus, in the valley of which river Akbar was born.

“Birbal.”—Another tale is told of the same minister who when tauntingly asked by the Emperor Akbar why he did not make an effort to turn all Moslems into Hindus, replied, “Oh King! that is too serious a question to answer off-hand, but give me time and I will tell you why.”

Hearing some days afterwards that the Emperor was going down to the riverside Birbal contrived to have a man vigorously washing and lathering a donkey with soap. “See here,” said the Emperor, “here is a novel sight!” “Yes,” replied Birbal, “and a very good reply too to the question your Majesty put to me the other day. We believe that Hindus are to Mahomedans as horses are to jackasses, and you see, your Majesty, that all the washing and lathering in the world will not make the donkey into a horse, neither can I by any power that I possess transform a Moslem into a Hindu.”

Yet another tale is current on the Indus, intended to perpetuate the wit and wisdom of Birbal.

One day the Emperor begged of his minister to solve the problem of there being so many religious sects in the Kingdom, such as the “Roshan.”^[5] Birbal, it is said, took the Emperor to a large hall, supported by many pillars all similar, but one of which only was of fine gold. There was but a dim light in the hall, and without it, was a large concourse of people. Birbal addressed them and said, “You know that all the pillars are much of a shape, but one is of gold; who shall discover this? Let me see.”

In an instant there was a rush for the hall, and in a little time when light was thrown on the scene, each pillar had its man clutching it in strong embrace, but only Birbal knew that which was of gold.

“Behold, oh King!” he said “the scramble for the prize; so it is in the world around us: all rush and divide off into sects to lay hold of the prop and support of immortal happiness, each in the firm belief of exclusive possession. It will only be when the true Light shines, that the Deity who alone has the secret shall pronounce the reward.”

There is a class of Hindu boatmen of Attock who keep themselves entirely apart from the other boatmen who are Mahomedans.

They are called MullÂhs, from the Arabic and meaning boatmen, and their tradition is that their ancestors were brought up to Attock by Akbar from further south, as being skilful oarsmen.

Another local legend at Attock is that the native engineer who made the plans for the old fort had his hands cut off by the native Rajah, lest he should design another for an enemy; and this is current in Ghazi to this day.

With reference to the extended hand to keep off the Evil Eye, and carried as an emblem on the right of Akbar’s throne, it should be stated here also that it is often carried on a pole by Mahomedans of the Shiah sect during the Maharram. It is often imprinted too on huts and houses for the same purpose.

The standard of the fish, or in the Persian, “Mahee-MoorÂtib,” conveys special honours to princes and nobles. “Mahee” in Persian means Fish; the Fish on which the earth is supposed to rest. The word “MoorÂtib” is from the Arabic “Martibah” and means Dignity and Honour.

“The Fish is the vehicle of “KwÂja Khizr,” the water god, and hence has become a sort of totem of Shiah Mahomedans, and the crest of the late Royal Family of Oudh.”—Crooke.

Pictures of fish are often drawn on houses as a charm against demoniacal influence, and we know, that the “Matse Avatar,” represents the incarnation of Vishnu in the form of a Fish; and emblematic also of the Deluge.

There are many expedients resorted to, to keep off the Evil Eye, amongst others, iron rings, precious stones, colours (particularly red and yellow), the triangle of equal sides, and pots and chattis, or earthenware pots, smeared with lime. The triangle might possibly be traced to the three Genii, or Hindu Triad, seated in a triangle, or “Tricuta.”^[6]

Armlets to the same intent, and called “Tawiz,” from the Arabic word, Auz, “fleeing to God for protection,” are in constant use, as a charm, and it would seem that the Jews recognized the same practice, possibly from the command in Deuteronomy xi. 18.

To speak in praise of a child to its face before the parent is to call up the Evil Eye, and is a cause of much alarm. If unwittingly done by a friend, the parent will ask him to spit in his hand in order to take off the spell.

A particular woodpecker, called the BabeeÂh, has an evil spell and is dreaded on account of its bringing heavy rains, to the injury of agriculture, and in a village called Vasnal the farmers and villagers all turned out and drove it from the district, and the rain, they say, at once stopped.

Very often, in a large melon field there are placed one or two black chattis, so that the eye of passers-by may rest on these first, before they see the melons, and so take off any evil spell.

We may add here what is not generally known, that the Emperor Akbar, who gave the greatest encouragement to literary accomplishments, appointed Birbal to be the Royal poet under the name of “Katrae.” None of the poems he wrote have, as far as we know, been preserved by Abul-Fazl or others, but we presume that they would have been of the usual figurative type of those days, as for instance the comparing of the narcissus flower to the eye, and the feeble stem of that plant bending over with the weight of the flower, to the languor of the eyes. Pearls again signifying tears or teeth, and the lips to carnations or rubies, while the gums are said to be as the flower of the pomegranate tree, and the dark foliage of the myrtle, is thought to be like the dark hair of the one beloved; or again the eye is said to be like a sword, and the eyelids scabbards, the white complexion to be like crystals of camphor, while the musk plant is said to betoken a beauty spot on the face. (See Hughes.)

“Peacock Throne.”—This was studded with valuable diamonds and precious stones, and was considered to be worth seven millions of money.