particles of food that were on the bang-eater’s breast, and while he was licking up those about his mouth, he took his lip for a piece of meat and bit it.  The bang-eater did not stir, for he said within himself, “They will tell me to shut the door.”  But to ease his soul he cried, “Ough!” inwardly cursing the dog.  When the other bang-eaters heard him make that noise, they said, “Rise, fasten the door.”  He replied, “After loss, attention!  Now that the food is gone, and my lip is wounded, what is the use of shutting that door?” and crying, “Woe! alas!” they each went in a different direction.[8]

A similar story is known in Kashmir:  Five friends chanced to meet, and all having leisure, they decided to go to the bazaar and purchase a sheep’s head, and have a great feast in the house of one of the party, each of whom subscribed four annas.  The head was bought, but while they were returning to the house it was remembered that there was not any butter.  On this one of the five proposed that the first of them that should break silence by speaking should go for the butter.  Now it was no light matter to have to retrace one’s steps back to the butter-shop, as the way was long and the day was very hot.  So they all five kept strict silence.  Pots were cleaned, the fire was prepared, and the head laid thereon.  Now and then one would cough, and another would groan, but never a tongue uttered a word, though the fire was fast going out, and the head was getting burnt, owing to there being no fat or butter wherewith to grease the pot.  Thus matters were when a policeman passed by, and, attracted by the smell of cooking, looked in at the window, and saw these five men perfectly silent and sitting around a burnt sheep’s head.  Not knowing the arrangement, he supposed that these men were either mad or were thieves, and so he inquired how they came there, and how they obtained the head.  Not a word was uttered in reply.  “Why are you squatting there in that stupid fashion?” shouted the policeman.  Still no reply.  Then the policeman, full of rage that these wretched men should thus mock at his authority, took them all off straight to the police inspectors office.  On arrival the inspector asked them the reason of their strange behaviour, but he also got no reply.  This rather tried the patience and temper of the man of authority, who was generally feared, and flattered, and bribed.  So he ordered one of the five to be immediately flogged.  The poor fool bore it bravely, and uttered never a sound; but when the blows repeatedly fell on the same wounded parts, he could endure no longer, and cried out, “Oh! oh!  Why do you beat me?  Enough, enough!  Is it not enough that the sheep’s head has been spoiled?”

His four associates now cried out, “Go to the bazaar and fetch the butter."[9]