Grasp All, Lose All

Long ago, in a city in India, lived a poor oil-seller called Dena, who could never keep a coin in his pocket. He had borrowed a hundred rupees from a moneylender named Lena, and with the interest Lena always charged, the debt had grown to three hundred. Dena’s business was going badly and he could not pay, so every evening Lena came to his house and shouted at him.

Lena always timed his visits for the moment when Dena’s wife was cooking supper, and he made such a scene that Dena, his wife and their daughter lost their appetites completely. This went on for weeks, until one day Dena decided he could bear it no longer and would run away. A man cannot run far with a wife and daughter, he thought, so he would have to leave them behind. That evening, instead of going home after work, he slipped out of the city, without much idea of where he was going.

At about ten that night he came to a well by the roadside, beside a giant peepul tree. He was very tired, so he climbed the tree to rest until morning, curled up among the great branches and fell fast asleep.

While he slept, some spirits who roam about such places on certain nights picked up the tree and flew away with it to a faraway shore where nothing lived, and there they set it down. Dena woke and stared in horror. Instead of a forest he saw only bare shore and wide sea.

As he sat trying to gather his wits, he noticed little lights twinkling and flashing all around him like tiny fires. One was so close that he reached out and picked it up. It was a sparkling red stone, almost as big as a walnut. He tied it in a corner of his cloth. Soon he found another, then a third and a fourth, and tied them all up carefully.

Just as day was breaking, the tree rose into the air, flew swiftly back and set itself down by the well where it had stood the night before. Once Dena had got over his fright, he thanked heaven he was still alive. His wish to wander had been quite cured, so he went straight home.

His wife met him with a scolding and a hundred questions. When at last she stopped for breath, Dena said, “I have only one thing to say. Look what I’ve got!” He shut all the doors, untied his cloth and showed her the four glittering stones. “Pooh!” said his wife. “Silly pebbles! If they were something to eat, there would be some sense in them.” And she turned away with a sniff, because Lena had come the night before, found Dena gone and frightened her with his threats.

As soon as Lena heard that Dena was back, he appeared in the doorway and shouted at him until he was tired. Then Dena said, “If your honour will come inside, I will speak.” He shut the doors again, untied his cloth and showed Lena the four flashing stones. “This is all I have in the world to set against my debt,” he said. “I haven’t a penny, but the stones are pretty.”

Lena saw at once that they were magnificent rubies, and his mouth watered. But he did not want to show it. “What do I care about your stupid stones?” he said. “I want my money.” Dena could only fold his hands and beg for patience. At last Lena pretended that, rather than lose the debt altogether, he would take the stones instead. He wrote Dena a receipt for the three hundred rupees, wrapped the rubies in a cloth, tucked them inside his coat and went off. Dena almost wept with gratitude.

“How shall I turn these rubies into money?” Lena wondered as he walked. “I daren’t keep them. If the rajah hears I have them, he will find some excuse to throw me in prison and take everything. But what a bargain! Four rubies worth a king’s ransom, for a hundred rupees!” He put on his best clothes, went to the chief minister, whose name was Musli, and laid the four rubies before him in private. Musli’s eyes sparkled. “I cannot pay what they are really worth,” he said, “but I will give you ten thousand rupees for the four.” Lena agreed gladly and hurried home with his enormous profit.

Musli decided the best thing to do was to give the rubies to the rajah, whose name was Kahre. That same day he went to the palace and laid them before the king. “Oho!” said the rajah. “These are priceless gems. In return, I give you and your heirs the income of ten villages.” So for ten thousand rupees Musli became lord of ten villages, and he went away beaming.

The rajah tucked the rubies into his turban and took them to show the queen, who was nearly beside herself with delight. Turning them over in her hands, she said, “If only I had eight more, what a necklace they would make! Get me eight more, or I shall die!” “Unreasonable woman,” said the rajah, “where am I to find eight more? I gave ten villages for these!” But she wept and wailed until he promised to get them.

The next morning the rajah sent for Musli. “Get me eight more rubies like these,” he said, “or I will hang you.” Musli protested that he had no idea where to look, but the rajah would not listen. So Musli sent for Lena. “Eight more rubies, and quickly, or I am a dead man!” “Rubies like those don’t grow on bushes!” wailed Lena. “Then where did you get them?” “From Dena the oil-seller.” “Then send for him,” said Musli. “I am not going to hang for twenty Denas!”

Dena was brought and questioned, and all three went to the rajah, where Dena told the whole story. “Which night did you sleep in the peepul tree?” asked the rajah. Dena could not remember, but his wife could: it was the last Sunday of the new moon, a night when spirits are said in the tale to have special power. The rajah ordered them all, on pain of death, to say nothing, and declared that on the next Sunday of the new moon the four of them, Kahre, Musli, Lena and Dena, would sit in the peepul tree and see what happened.

When the night came, the four met in secret, went into the forest and climbed the tree. At midnight it began to sway and rose into the air. “See, sire, the tree is flying!” whispered Dena. “Yes, yes, you told the truth,” said the rajah. “Now keep still.” Away flew the tree, until it set them down on the empty shore by the wide, tumbling sea, and once again little lights began to glitter all around.

Each of them had his own thoughts. “Last time I took only four, and they paid off my whole debt,” thought Dena. “This time I will take all I can and be rich.” “I got ten thousand rupees for four,” thought Lena. “I will gather forty and be made a minister at least.” “Four stones made me lord of ten villages,” thought Musli. “Now I will gather enough to buy a kingdom and have ministers of my own.” And the rajah thought, “Why stop at eight? There are enough here for twenty necklaces, and wealth is power.”

Full of greed, they all scrambled down, spread their cloths and darted here and there grabbing the jewels, each glancing over his shoulder to see whether his neighbour was doing better. They were so busy that dawn crept up on them unnoticed. Suddenly the tree rose and flew away, leaving them on the shore staring after it, each with a cloth heavy with priceless jewels.

In the city that morning there was alarm at the palace: the rajah had gone out the night before and had not come back. “Musli will know where he is,” someone said. But Musli had not come home either. His servant sent them to Lena’s house, and Lena had not come home, but the porter said he had gone out with Dena. At Dena’s house his wife met them with tears and complaints: Dena had gone to Lena’s the evening before and had not come back.

They waited and searched in vain. None of the four ever came home, and Dena’s wife’s incomplete account was the only clue to what had become of them. The source reports a saying used when greed leads to loss: “All is lost! Neither Dena, nor Lena, nor Musli, nor Kahre remains.”

Where this story comes from

Andrew Lang printed this tale in The Olive Fairy Book (1907). His note credits it to Major Campbell of Ferozepur, in the Punjab, where the story explains a local proverb about greed.

The closing saying lists all four names, turning their shared disappearance into a compact reminder of the story.

Read the original: Andrew Lang, The Olive Fairy Book (Project Gutenberg)

Best for ages 9–12 — a longer chain story about greed in which each person wants a little more than the one before.

A closer reading

The rubies pass upward through a chain of unequal knowledge and power. Dena accepts debt relief because he does not know their value; Lena recognizes them, Musli converts them into village income, and the king can compel everyone to seek more. Their gains are therefore not equivalent bargains.

On the second trip, each man measures success by the next higher position he imagines occupying. All ignore the one fact Dena already knows: the tree leaves at dawn. The return route matters more than any extra jewel, but comparison with neighbours distracts them from that limit.

Dena’s wife remembers the crucial date and later supplies the only account available to the searchers. Her information matters despite the narrator’s impatient treatment of her questions. The four men’s disappearance also affects families left behind, so the loss extends beyond the greedy individuals.

Try this with the story

Track four rubies through the debt payment, cash sale and royal reward. Beside each exchange, note what each person knows and what power he has. Then write the single travel condition all four should have protected on the second visit.

Talk about it

• Why does Dena accept so much less than the rubies’ value?
• How does the king’s threat draw the others into a new trip?
• What vital information does Dena’s wife remember?
• What do the men forget while comparing their collections?

Related stories

• The Fisherman and the Genie — a lucky find and a dangerous bargain
• The Brahmin’s Dream — greedy daydreams that come to nothing
• The Fisherman and His Wife — a wish that keeps growing