Secundur (Alexander the Great) of curly locks like horns and fiery eyes, for such is the translation of Zulf-kur-nain, came to India, you know, a great many years ago.

He came to conquer, but his principal reason for leaving his country was in order that he might drink of the Ab-Hyatt, or Water of Life, which he had been told was to be found in the hills of India.

For a very long time he wandered about in Northern India, but could not discover any tidings about this Water of Life, till one day after conquering a special tribe of people, he demanded of them where the spring could be found.

They replied that they had heard about it as somewhere in the hills above where they resided, but that they had never been there, and they added that no one could get there, for that the spring could only be approached through a number of winding passages in the jungle, and there was the fear of never getting back, if even you could succeed in reaching it.

Secundur said to them, “Well then, cannot you tell me what I can do, for I have come all this way to drink of this water?” They replied they could only suggest to him that if he could procure a mare that had recently foaled, and could picket the foal at the entrance to the winding paths, he might ride the mare to the spring, and that she would be sure, from the love for her foal, to bring him safely back to the entrance.

This plan Secundur adopted, and eventually reached the spring from whence was bubbling up the Water of Life. He stooped down, and had taken up some of the water in his two hands joining them together like a cup, and was about to raise the water to his lips, when he heard a noise like kurr! kurr! several times repeated, and looking up he saw a large Raven perched on a rock and shaking its head and crying out in a human voice, “Don’t drink! Don’t drink! Look at my piteous plight! See what a state I have come to by drinking this water; only a mass of skin and bone and not a feather left, and so I have been for many years, and shall never die!”

Upon hearing this Secundur threw back the water into the spring and cried out, “Ya! Nuseeb! Ya! Nuseeb! Oh, my fate! and so I am not to drink the Water of Life after all my efforts to do so. What shall I do? and I must believe this Raven, the bird of fate and omen.”

Secundur then remounted the mare and retraced his steps, and as the villagers said, true enough she had no difficulty in wandering in and out amongst the paths till she came again to her foal.

He then returned to his camp, very sorrowful, and in order to relieve his mind he used to take long walks alone, and always dressed in the plainest garb.

He had gone a long distance from the camp when one day he met some villagers, and found out from them that there were two wonderful “Trees” near their village which had the magic power to answer questions put to them, and that their replies were always quite correct. They said, “But we must get old men to go with you, for they do not understand young men, nor do young men understand them,”

This they did, and when Secundur was approaching the “Trees” there was a voice heard, “Here comes Secundur! the great king Secundur!” Whereupon the villagers fell down at his feet to ask his pardon, for they had thought him all along as a common traveller.

Secundur at once allayed their fears and said, “Never mind! put to the ‘Trees’ the questions I ask you.” And he said, “Ask how long I have to live.” And the reply came, “Seven years!” “Ask again, How long it will take me to return to my country.” And the reply came again, “Seven years!” “Oh sorrow upon sorrow!” said Secundur: “It was not my “Kismut” (fate) to drink the Water of Life, and now it is not my “Kismut” to see again my mother, for I am sure to be delayed on my way back to my native land.”

Upon return to his camp he ordered that it should be moved the next day, and march in the direction of his own country. He had not made many marches when he came to a town, and the people came out to meet him, asking him to deliver them out of the hands of “Freebooters” who were continually raiding upon them.

Secundur remained with them for some time, and taught them how to build a wall round the town, but all this delayed him on his way back, as he thought it would.

Being still very sorrowful, he sent one day for two or three of his Ministers and said to them, “My home is yet a long way off, and who can tell whether I shall live to return to it? so I am going to give you a command, and you are to write down what I say; and should I die suddenly the letter which you shall write at my dictation, and which I will sign, and which you will keep, shall be at my death sent to my mother and delivered into her hands. Now write as follows:

“From your son Secundur:

“I am near dying, and have had this letter written to you and have signed it myself. It is the custom of this country that when a person dies in a family, cooked bread is always given away in charity to the poor, for it is supposed to do good to the deceased. Now, I am going to ask you when you hear of my death, only to give cooked bread in charity to those who have never lost a relation. Again, should you ever come to the place of my burial and call out, ‘Secundur, Zulf-kur-Nain,’ I will reply to you from my grave.”

Now the first request was so designed because Alexander knew that his mother could not find a family that had not to mourn some loss or other; and she would thus come to see that she was not alone in her grief, and that all human beings were afflicted with the death of relatives.

As the tale goes, said the narrator, Secundur did die, and was buried, and the letter was sent to his mother.

Just prior to his death, however, he called before him all his Ministers and said, “When you are carrying my corpse to the grave let all my troops of every arm of the force follow me, and outside of my shroud let one of my hands be placed with the palm uppermost.”

Of course in those days Ministers never said “No” to the commands of the King, so they all exclaimed, “Your commands, Sire, shall be obeyed!”

When they had come out from the Presence, however, they said one to another, “That is a singular command of the King! Whoever heard of troops following a dead General? We must really again go and enquire if these are his precise instructions.” But they feared to go all together, so deputed the favourite Minister to go into the Presence, who made his salaam, and repeating the King’s commands, asked if these were to be carried out.

“Send for them again,” said the King, “Send for all these ignorant Ministers!” When they came he taxed them with their want of sense and said, “Do you not see that by ordering all my troops to follow me to the grave I wanted to show to you and to all the world that ‘Secundur’ though he conquered with such troops, they could not save him from death; and by placing my hand out of the shroud, that you and all else might know that empty were my hands when I came into the world, and empty are they when I go out of it.” “Oh King!” said they all, “now we truly comprehend the meaning.”

This all happened just before he died, and everything was done as the King commanded; and the letter was given into the hands of a Minister to convey to the mother, as I told you.

Upon receiving the letter the mother, though borne down with her great sorrow, did not long delay before she set out to visit the grave of her son. Now there were many graves and many tombs in the graveyard, and she wandered up and down for a long time, calling out, “Secundur! Oh my Secundur! my beloved Secundur!” but no reply came from any of the tombs.

Then the thought crossed her mind that the letter had said that she was to call out, “Secundur Zulf-kur-Nain.” So this she did, and was at once replied to by her son who said, “Did I not tell you to call out” Secundur Zulf-kur-Nain’ for there are many Secundurs here?” “Yes, alas!” she replied, and the voice then ceased to speak, and though she waited it never spoke again.

Now the design of Secundur by this, was also to give his mother another reason for pacifying her grief in knowing that there were many “Secundurs” who had died and had been buried, and that she was not the only mother in the world who had lost a Secundur.

EXPLANATORY NOTES.

“Zulf-kur-Nain.”—A compound of the two words “Zulf” and “Kernain.” The first in Persian represents a curl, and the latter is from the Arabic word “Kernai,” a horn. It is supposed that “Secundur” or Alexander the Great had two curls on his forehead like horns, so he was given the surname of “He of the two Horns.” (See Hughes.)

“Ab-Hyatt.”—-Ab, Persian for water; Hyatt, Arabic for life. The incident of Alexander’s search for the Water of Life is referred to by Crooke in these words: “According to the ‘Sikandar-Nama’ (written A.D. 1200 by Abu-Mahomed) Kwaja Khizr was a saint of Islam who presided over the well of immortality, and directed Alexander of Macedon in his vain search for the blessed waters. The fish is his vehicle, and hence its image is painted over the doors of both Hindus and Mahomedans, while it became the family crest of the late Royal House of Oudh.” As to Alexander, it is generally the result of a great name to be enshrined in fables, and as it has been said, to become the basis of mythopoeic fiction as in this tale.

“Raven.”—The word used for this bird by the narrator was Dhur-Kowa; Kowa, literally meaning a crow, answering to the word Kaww in Hindustani.

The natives of the district draw a great contrast between the raven and the crow. With them the former is an emblem of greed and rapacity; the latter, of quickness and cunning. They hold the raven to be a bird of ill omen, and are not singular in their belief. In some of our own country-sides they are said to forbode death.

The raven is often, in the legends of other countries, referred to as a bird which causes disappointment. Apollo sent a raven on a message, but he perched on a fig-tree and there waited until the fruit was ripe. There is also the memorable instance recorded in Holy Writ of the Raven sent out from the Ark. There are traditions too, about other birds, but that which is considered the most ominous is the “Ghoo Ghoo” owl, Ghoo Ghoo being the Hindustani word for this peculiar owl, whose sound is dreaded as a devil-bird. Of the smaller owls they have no such fear.

Note.—There is a native saying in the district in regard to the habits of the crow, which may appear to be asleep, but is ever on the alert.

It is as well to add here under this tale of “Secundur” the words they apply to the uncertainty of his great life.

Note as to owl omens.—Certain physical infirmities in man are reckoned inauspicious, and forbode evil, such as to be blind of one eye. It is very unlucky to look at a one-eyed man, and even if he should be in a high position, as was the case a long while ago with a celebrated chieftain in the North of India, he does not escape a sneer.

When he put an increased tax on the weavers, it is said they taunted him in the following rhyme:

Again, they have a saying as to those to be avoided:

There are many other evil omens too numerous to mention; such as, meeting a corpse being carried to burial; an oil seller; or a woman with an empty water-pot; a crow sitting on a dry tree with no water near. The reverse of the picture is lucky; so it would be a piece of good fortune to see a crow sitting on a tree near where there was water.

With some Hindus it is unfortunate when setting out on a journey for one of the party to sneeze, and they generally get down for a while until the evil spell, supposed to be from an evil bird is believed to be over. Men of the sweeper caste are often called “Kal-jibha,” or black-tongued, and whose curses always prevail.

“Trees.”—There is a universal belief amongst Hindus that in most trees certain spirits take up their abode, and that to destroy a tree is to disturb the spirits, who have to be appeased by offerings of grain and oil to keep off evil consequences to the village.

There are certain special trees in addition to the two oracular trees of Alexander, called by the natives Mather and EmaÜsae, notably the Ficus religiosa, or “Pepul” tree, towards which their veneration shews itself in devotional acts which may be termed “Tree worship.” In the Hazara and other districts it is not an uncommon thing to see small hollow shrines placed beneath this particular class of tree, containing a small lamp, and sprinkled over with yellow ochre and oil, while the tree itself is encircled by a white thread.

One such tree was planted years ago in the jail for Indian transports at Singapore; the charge of which was for years under Major M^cNair, one of the authors of this volume. It was called by the Hindus “Aswatha,” and it was currently believed that it spoke and sang through the points of its heart-shaped leaves. They looked upon it as the abode of their principal deities.

The “Tulsi” shrub, or “Holy basil,” as before said, is also held in great veneration, and has over and over again formed the subject of verse. Here is one example:

The famous fabulous tree, “Pari Jatamu,” which one reads of in the Puranas, (old Sanscrit records,) a sort of jasmine; and the Vata fig-tree of “Orissa,” were said to be endowed with knowledge and speech like the oak of Dodona. By approaching them in a respectful manner you obtain from them knowledge, riches, and everything you can wish for, but they are difficult of access.—Wilford.

Note.—In many parts of India it is well known that to make an offering to a deity offended, and to pacify his wrath, five twigs of the following sacred trees are put into a jar of water and invoked.