The Prince and the Zombie (11 page)

He shut him up in the sack and closed it firmly—as firmly, he thought, as he would keep his mouth closed this time, no matter what happened—and set out in the direction of the cave in Tibet, impatient to deposit his heavy burden at the feet of his venerated guru.

But the thirty-sixth day, as he was in the process of crossing the immense empty plain, feeling physically exhausted, Ngödrup Dorje began speaking in a very sweet and soothing voice:

“In this desolate region, there are no people and you will not find a place to rest, not even a place the size of a prairie-dog dropping. So to make this long journey a little more pleasant, I propose two solutions. Either you, who are a living being, tell me a story, or I, who am a dead being, will tell you a new story.”

The prince held his tongue and the zombie quite gaily began telling him a very beautiful and spellbinding story.

26

The Horse Handler Who Never Lied

O
NCE UPON A TIME
in the high mountains of the Himalaya, there were two clans that were constantly keeping watch on each other to see which of the two had the greatest number of horses, cattle, sheep, and other wealth, and which of the two had the most courageous and strongest men. They never behaved badly toward each other. There was never a time when their good relations deteriorated. They remained like a pine tree, ever green in both summer and winter. Thus the two clans lived in peace for generations.

However, one day the chief of the highland clan had a bad thought. The subject of the thought was how he might go about acquiring all the possessions and wealth of the lowland clan. This thought took over his mind and became attached to it the way a shadow is attached to a body. Shortly after this thought took possession of him, without any obvious reason, he paid a visit the lowland clan. He spent a good while with the lowlanders and drank a good number of glasses in their company. His hidden purpose was to find out whatever he could about the other clan's possessions.

One evening, when he had had too much to drink, he said to the lowland chief that he felt it was important for the two clans to get to know each other better. He then recounted to the lowlander how rich he had become and asked to be told in turn the extent of the riches of the lowland clan. The lowland chief replied with pride and pleasure that he possessed an extraordinary horse who had the eyes of a
garuda
—a sacred mythical vulture. This horse was the cousin of the king of the
nagas
. When mounted upon, he was as fast as the wind. His chest was as powerful as a tidal wave.

“On top of that,” said the lowland chief, “I have a horse handler who never lies.”

Incredulous, the chief of the highland clan replied, “Amazing. Sure it's possible that you might have an unusual horse, but that you have a handler who never lies—who would believe that!?”

In the end, the chief of the highland clan issued a challenge, saying:

“I'll make you a bet about the honesty of your horse handler. If he really and truly does not lie, I'd be ready to give you half my land, half my horses, my possessions, my wealth, my sheep, and my serving men. But if the contrary is the case, it's you who will owe me half of everything you own.”

And the two chiefs went on to sign a document confirming this challenge in the presence of the two clans and all of their neighbors.

It so happened that the horse handler in question was at that time keeping the horses in his care in a pen belonging to some nomads. One night a very beautiful woman came to see him in his mountain meadow. She told him she had lost her way and asked him for shelter for the night. The horse handler, as generous as he was honest, offered her hospitality for three or four nights. Little by little she proved herself so helpful to her host that she became indispensable to him. She helped him pitch a black nomad tent woven from yak hair, took the cattle to pasture in the morning, and then, returning in the evening, did the cooking and a goodly number of other routine chores. She no longer talked about leaving. Never in his life had the horse handler known such happiness. That is why he finally decided to keep the beautiful, sweet woman with him. From this time on, every moment of his life was filled with joy. It was like having the New Year celebration all year long.

A long time went by. One night, as they were sleeping in their black tent, the horse handler saw that the beautiful woman was tossing and turning and suffering badly. Filled with compassion, he asked her what he could do to help her, what remedy he could go and find to cure her sickness. Hesitantly she replied that there was indeed a remedy, but he would certainly not be able to get it for her. The horse handler was ready for anything. He begged her to let him know what he had to do. He said that he would be willing to cut off a piece of his own flesh if that is what was needed to help his beautiful friend. She revealed then that the only remedy that would save her would be to eat the heart and liver of the horse with the
garuda
eyes. After having made this dire confession, she went back to bemoaning her pain.

Very shocked by what he had heard, the horse handler did not know what to do. He felt he could not touch this horse, because it was an animal that was extremely precious in this world. But the woman's mysterious illness got worse from day to day, and he had to witness her intolerable suffering. His head felt like water was boiling inside it. He could no longer sleep.

One night he went out to the horse pen and lay down next to that horse that was so out of the ordinary. It was very cold out, and he rolled himself up in a fur blanket. His heart was heavy and he shed many tears. Suddenly he heard a voice very close to him that said, “Do not be so sad for me. I heard everything the woman told you. Now listen closely to what I have to say. Take me tomorrow to the herd of mares so that I can mount them and guarantee that my lineage will continue. After that, do not hesitate to kill me so you can save the woman.”

The horse handler was so stunned, so astonished to hear the divine horse talking in human language, that he was even less able to imagine killing him than before. Nonetheless, the following morning he did exactly as the horse with the
garuda
eyes had asked him. He took him to the mares. That evening he went to fetch him but could not make up his mind to kill him. The divine horse became impatient. Vehemently pawing the ground with his hooves, he asked the horse handler to kill him on the spot. With his heart extremely heavy, thinking of the terrible suffering the woman was undergoing, trembling in every limb, the horse handler killed the divine horse. Then he gave the heart and liver, still warm and fresh, to the gravely ill beauty. The woman was instantly healed, and the next day, when he went to take his herd of horses out to pasture, the woman left at the same time, and she never returned again.

In fact she had returned to the house of her own husband, who was waiting for her impatiently. Her husband was none other than the chief of the highland clan, who had sent her to the horse handler with a secret mission. Once back, she showed her husband the heart and liver of the divine horse whom she had had killed. Very much satisfied, the chief of the highland clan did not waste a moment. His evidence in hand, he went to the house of the chief of the lowland clan so he could announce to him that his own horse handler had killed his divine horse.

As soon as the lowland chief saw the horse's heart and liver, he sent a messenger to go and find the horse handler. The horse handler hastened to obey the summons of his chief. On the road, he did a lot of thinking, because he had little doubt that his chief knew what he had done. He expected to be seriously punished. He realized that since that fateful day when he had killed the horse, he had not known a single day of joy or happiness. His heart was filled with sadness and great regret for having killed the magnificent divine horse with the
garuda
eyes. Thus he took pleasure in the idea that he could ease his conscience by telling his chief the whole truth, thus ridding himself of the heavy burden that rested on his shoulders.

With these thoughts in mind, he ran fast—with a lighter and lighter step—until at last he arrived before the chief, who was in his tent with many people around him. In front of everyone, the chief of the lowland clan asked him how his care of the divine horse with the
garuda
eyes had been going. The honest horse handler replied in all candor that he had been obliged to kill the horse in order to cure a beautiful woman from a mysterious illness. Full of remorse, he asked to be brought before a judge so he could be condemned for this crime. The chief of the highland clan and his wife were both witness to the faultless honesty of the horse handler of the lowland clan. They were completely dumbstruck, as though a deafening clap of thunder had sounded, yet there was not a cloud in the sky, except for one very small one the size of a mouse's head.

“No! No!” were the sole words that escaped their lips.

It was only at this moment that the horse handler realized that the beautiful woman was the wife of the chief of the highland clan and that he had just had his honesty put on trial without his knowing it. After this incontestable proof of the integrity of the horse handler of the lowland clan, the highland chief had no choice but to honor his written pledge and give the lowland chief half of all his possessions and half his wealth. As a reward, the lowland chief gave a large part of his newfound gain to his brave horse handler, who thereafter lived for many years in joy and happiness.

At this moment, despite all of his vigilance, the following words escaped the lips of Prince Dechö Zangpo, who had been entirely captivated by the story: “I wonder how many foals the divine horse produced just before he died.”

At this, the sack on his back opened by itself and released its prisoner, the formidable Ngödrup Dorje. Gloating hugely, the zombie declared, “Here's the blow you deserve for talking back!” and he disappeared in a puff of wind.

Too late! Prince Dechö Zangpo was left alone in that desolate place with a great feeling of remorse and failure. But he was well aware that nothing would change the situation and that there was only one thing for him to do. Showing enormous patience, courage, and perseverance, he returned to India.

27

Hunting Down the Zombie Again

A
FTER A LONG
and dangerous journey, Prince Dechö Zangpo finally arrived again at Silwaytsal. Hardly had he arrived when he was once again surrounded by many dead beings, who elbowed each other to get closer, all calling out at the same time: “
Halala!
” and “
Hululu!
” “It's me you're looking for. Take me! Take me!” Taking out of his pocket the red cone-shaped object that Guru Ludrup had given him, he touched their heads with it, repeating over and over, “You're not the right one! You're not the right one!” This made them flee immediately. After a while, looking around he saw one dead being who was not behaving like the others and who had a very different body. He was gold on top, silver on the bottom, and he had a mane of pure turquoise. That one fled to the top of a sandalwood tree, crying, “I'm not the one! I'm not the one!”

But the prince used his magic ax, and Ngödrup Dorje came down from the tree without needing to be asked. Quickly the prince got hold of him and imprisoned him in the magic sack, which he carefully secured with the rope. Then he joyfully set off on the road to liberation again, telling himself in his head over and over again this time not to let the slightest sound escape his lips no matter what happened in the course of the long journey to the cave.

The thirty-ninth day, as the prince was painfully trudging across the great barren plain, the very sweet and soothing voice of Ngödrup Dorje came from the sack:

“In this desolate region, there are no people and you will not find a place to rest, not even a place the size of a prairie-dog dropping. So to make this long journey a little more pleasant, I propose two solutions. Either you, who are a living being, tell me a story, or I, who am a dead being, will tell you one.”