How the Raja’s Son Won the Princess Labam

In a certain country there was a Raja who had only one son, and every day the young prince went out hunting. One day his mother, the Rani, said to him, “You may hunt anywhere you like on these three sides of the kingdom, but you must never go to the fourth side.” She said this because she knew that if he went that way, he would hear about the beautiful Princess Labam, and then he would leave his father and mother to go in search of her.

For a while the prince did as his mother said. But one day, while he was hunting in the three places where he was allowed to go, he remembered her warning about the fourth side and decided to find out why she had forbidden it. When he got there, he found a jungle with nothing in it but a great many parrots. The prince shot at some of them, and at once they all flew up into the sky, all except one. That one was their king, and his name was Hiraman Parrot.

When Hiraman Parrot found himself left alone, he called out to the others, “Don’t fly off and leave me by myself when the Raja’s son shoots! If you abandon me like this, I will tell the Princess Labam.”

At that, all the parrots came chattering back to their king. The prince was astonished. “Why, these birds can talk!” he said. “Who is the Princess Labam?” he asked them. “Where does she live?” But the parrots would not tell him. “You can never reach the Princess Labam’s country,” was all they would say.

The prince was so sad that he threw away his gun and went home. There he refused to talk or touch his food, and for four or five days he lay in bed, looking very ill. In the end he confessed to his parents that his heart was set on seeing the Princess Labam. “I have to go,” he told them. “I have to find out what she looks like. Where is her land?”

“We have no idea,” they replied.

“Then I shall search until I find it,” said the prince.

“Oh, please don’t,” they begged. “We have no other son. Stay here at home. The Princess Labam can never be found.”

“I still have to try,” said the prince. “Perhaps God will guide me. If I survive and find her, I will return to you. If I die on the way, we shall not meet again. But go I must.”

So they had to let him go, though they cried bitterly at parting. His father gave him fine clothes, a fine horse and plenty of rupees. The prince took his gun, his bow and arrows and many other weapons. “I may need them,” he said. He got his horse ready for the journey himself and said goodbye. His mother wrapped some sweets in her handkerchief and gave it to him. “My child,” she said, “eat some of these when you are hungry.”

Then he set off. He rode on and on until he came to a jungle with a pool of water and shady trees. He bathed himself and his horse in the pool and sat down under a tree. “I’ll have a few of Mother’s sweets,” he thought, “and a drink of water, and then carry on.” He opened the handkerchief and took out a sweet. There was an ant in it. He took out another, and there was an ant in that one too. So he laid them on the ground and took out another, and another, and another, until he had taken them all out, and in every one there was an ant.

“Never mind,” he said. “I won’t eat the sweets. The ants shall have them.”

Then the king of the ants came and stood before him. “You have been kind to us,” said the Ant-Raja. “If you are ever in trouble, think of me, and we will come to you.”

The prince thanked him, got on his horse and rode on until he came to another jungle. There he saw a tiger with a thorn in its paw, roaring loudly with pain.

“Why are you roaring like that?” asked the prince. “What is the matter?”

“I have had a thorn in my foot for twelve years,” said the tiger, “and it hurts terribly. That is why I roar.”

“Well,” said the prince, “I will take it out for you. But perhaps, since you are a tiger, you will eat me once I have made you better?”

“Oh no,” said the tiger. “I won’t eat you. Please make me well.”

So the prince pulled out his pocket knife and carefully cut away the thorn. As he did, the tiger roared louder than ever, so loudly that his wife heard him in the next jungle and came bounding over to see what was wrong. When the tiger saw her coming, he hid the prince in the bushes so that she would not see him.

“What man has hurt you, to make you roar so?” asked his wife.

“Nobody hurt me,” said the tiger. “A young prince came along and pulled out the thorn that was stuck in my paw.”

“Where is this prince? Let me look at him,” she said.

“Promise you won’t harm him, and I’ll call him out,” said the tiger.

“I won’t kill him. Just let me see him,” she said.

So the tiger called the prince, and when he came out, the tiger and his wife bowed to him again and again. They fed him a fine meal, and he spent three days as their guest, checking the tiger’s paw each day, and on the third day it was completely healed. Then he said goodbye, and the tiger said, “If you are ever in trouble, think of me, and we will come to you.”

The prince rode on and on until he came to a third jungle. Here he found four fakirs, wandering holy men, whose teacher had died and left behind four things. There was a bed that would carry whoever sat on it wherever he wished to go. There was a bag that would give its owner whatever he wanted, whether jewels, food or clothes. There was a stone bowl that would give its owner as much water as he wanted, however far he was from a pool. And there was a stick and a rope: if enemies attacked their owner, he had only to say, “Stick, beat all the men and soldiers here,” and the stick would thrash the attackers while the rope bound them fast.

The four fakirs were squabbling about who should have what. “I want this,” said one. “You can’t have it, because I want it,” said another, and so on.

“Don’t quarrel over them,” said the prince. “I will shoot four arrows in four different directions. Whoever reaches my first arrow shall have the first thing, the bed. Whoever reaches the second arrow shall have the bag. Whoever reaches the third shall have the bowl, and whoever reaches the fourth shall have the stick and rope.”

They agreed, and the prince shot his first arrow. Off raced the fakirs to find it. When they brought it back, he shot the second, and when they had brought that back, he shot the third, and when they had brought the third, he shot the fourth. While they were away hunting for the fourth arrow, the prince let his horse go free in the jungle, sat on the bed with the bowl, the stick and rope and the bag, and said, “Bed, I wish to go to the Princess Labam’s country.”

At once the little bed rose into the air and flew and flew until it came down in the Princess Labam’s country. The prince asked some men he met, “Whose country is this?”

“It is the Princess Labam’s country,” they said.

The prince walked on until he reached a cottage where an old woman lived. “And who might you be?” she asked. “Where have you come from?”

“I come from a faraway country,” he said. “Please let me stay with you tonight.”

“No,” she said, “I can’t. Our king has ordered that no men from other countries may stay in his land. You cannot stay in my house.”

“You are like an aunt to me,” said the prince. “Let me stay just this one night. It is evening already, and if I go into the jungle, the wild beasts will eat me.”

“Very well,” said the old woman. “You may stay tonight. But tomorrow morning you must go, because if the king hears that you spent the night in my house, he will have me thrown into prison.”

She took him in, and the prince was very glad. She began to get supper ready, but he said, “No, aunty, let me feed you tonight.” He reached into his bag and said, “Bag, I want some dinner,” and at once the bag gave him a delicious dinner on two golden plates. The old woman and the prince ate it together.

When they had finished, the old woman said, “Now I will fetch some water.”

“Don’t go,” said the prince. “You shall have plenty of water in a moment.” He took his bowl and said, “Bowl, I want some water,” and it filled with water. When it was full he said, “Stop, bowl,” and it stopped. “You see, aunty,” he said, “with this bowl I can always have as much water as I like.”

By now it was night. “Aunty,” said the prince, “why don’t you light a lamp?”

“There is no need,” she said. “Our king has forbidden us to light lamps, because as soon as it gets dark, his daughter, the Princess Labam, comes and sits on her roof. She shines so brightly that the whole land and every house is lit up, and we can work by her light just as if it were daytime.”

When the night was quite black, the princess got up. She put on her rich clothes and her jewels, rolled up her hair and placed a band of diamonds and pearls across her head. Then she shone like the moon, and her beauty turned night into day. She came out and sat on the roof of her palace. She never went outside in the daytime, only at night, and while she sat there, all the people in her father’s country went about their work and finished it.

The prince watched the princess quietly and was very happy. “How lovely she is!” he said to himself.

At midnight, when the whole country was in bed, the princess left her roof and went to her room. When she was asleep, the prince got up quietly and sat on his bed. “Bed,” he said, “I want to go to the Princess Labam’s room.” The little bed carried him to the room where she lay sleeping. The prince asked his bag for a big pile of betel leaf, and the bag gave him heaps of it. He left it beside the princess’s bed, and his little bed carried him back to the old woman’s house.

The next morning the princess’s servants found the betel leaf and began to chew it. “Where has all this betel leaf come from?” asked the princess.

“It was lying next to your bed,” the servants told her. Nobody knew that the prince had come in the night and left it there.

That morning the old woman came to the prince. “It’s morning now,” she said, “and you must go. If the king finds out what I have done for you, he will seize me.”

“I am ill today, dear aunty,” said the prince. “Please let me stay until tomorrow morning.”

“All right,” said the old woman. So he stayed, and they took their dinner from the bag, and the bowl gave them water.

That night the princess sat on her roof, and at midnight, when everyone was in bed, she went to her room and soon fell fast asleep. Then the prince sat on his bed, and it carried him to her. He said to his bag, “Bag, I want a most beautiful shawl.” It gave him a splendid shawl, which he spread over the sleeping princess, and then he flew back to the old woman’s house and slept until morning.

In the morning the princess was delighted with the shawl. “Look, Mother,” she said. “It is so beautiful that Khuda must have sent it to me.” Her mother was delighted as well. “Yes, my child,” she said, “Khuda must have sent you this splendid shawl.”

When morning came, the old woman said to the prince, “Now you really must go.”

“Aunty,” he said, “I still feel poorly. Let me stop here a little longer. I will stay hidden in your house so that nobody sees me.” So she let him stay.

When it was dark, the princess put on her lovely clothes and jewels and sat on her roof, and at midnight she went to her room and fell asleep. The prince flew to her room on his bed and asked his bag for the most beautiful ring it could make, and the bag gave him a glorious one. He took the princess’s hand gently to put the ring on her finger, and she woke up with a start, very frightened.

“Who are you?” she cried. “Where do you come from? Why have you come to my room?”

“Don’t be afraid, princess,” he said. “I am not a thief. I am the son of a great Raja. Hiraman Parrot, who lives in the jungle where I went hunting, told me your name, and I left my father and mother to come and see you.”

“Well,” said the princess, “since you are the son of such a great Raja, I will not have you killed. I will tell my father and mother that I want to marry you.”

The prince went back to the old woman’s house. In the morning the princess told her mother, “A great Raja’s son is here in our land, and he is the one I wish to marry.” Her mother told the king.

“Good,” said the king. “But if this Raja’s son wants to marry my daughter, he must first do whatever I tell him. If he fails, I will kill him. I will give him eighty pounds of mustard seed, and he must press all the oil out of it in one day. If he cannot, he shall die.”

That morning the prince told the old woman that he meant to marry the princess. “Oh,” she cried, “leave this country and forget about marrying her! Many Rajas and Rajas’ sons have come here to marry her, and her father has had them all killed. Whoever wants to marry his daughter must first do whatever he says, and no one has ever managed it, so they have all been put to death. You will be killed too if you try. Please go away!” But the prince would not listen.

The king sent his servants to bring the prince to the court. There he gave him eighty pounds of mustard seed and told him to press all the oil out of it that day and bring it to him the next morning. “Whoever wants to marry my daughter must do everything I tell him,” said the king. “If he cannot, I have him killed. So if you cannot press out all the oil from this seed, you will die.”

The prince was very unhappy. “How can I press the oil out of all this seed in one day?” he thought. “And if I can’t, the king will kill me.” He carried the seed back to the old woman’s house, quite at a loss. Then the Ant-Raja came into his mind, and as soon as he thought of him, the Ant-Raja and his ants appeared.

“Why do you look so sad?” asked the Ant-Raja.

The prince showed him the mustard seed. “How can I press the oil out of all this in one day?” he said. “If I don’t take the oil to the king tomorrow morning, he will kill me.”

“Cheer up,” said the Ant-Raja. “Lie down and sleep. We will press out all the oil for you today, and tomorrow morning you can take it to the king.” So the prince lay down and slept, and the ants pressed out the oil. He was overjoyed when he saw it.

The next morning he took the oil to the king. But the king said, “You cannot marry my daughter yet. First you must fight my two demons and kill them.” Long ago the king had caught two demons and shut them in a cage, because he did not know what else to do with them. He was afraid to let them out in case they ate up all his people, and he did not know how to kill them. So every king and prince who wanted to marry the princess had to fight them. “Perhaps one day the demons will be killed,” the king thought, “and then I shall be rid of them.”

The prince was very unhappy when he heard about the demons. “What can I do?” he said to himself. “How can I fight two demons?” Then he thought of his tiger, and at once the tiger and his wife came to him.

“Why are you so sad?” they asked.

“The king has ordered me to fight his two demons and kill them,” said the prince. “How can I do it?”

“Don’t be frightened,” said the tiger. “Be happy. My wife and I will fight them for you.”

The prince took two splendid coats out of his bag, made of gold and silver and covered with pearls and diamonds. He put them on the tigers to make them look magnificent and took them to the king. “May these tigers fight your demons for me?” he asked.

“Yes,” said the king, who did not care at all who killed his demons, so long as they were killed.

“Then let your demons out,” said the prince, “and my tigers will take them on.” The demons were let out, and there was a long, fierce battle, until at last the tigers won and the demons lay dead.

“Well done,” said the king. “But there is another task before my daughter is yours. High in the sky hangs a kettledrum of mine. You must go and beat it. If you can’t, I will kill you.”

The prince thought of his little bed. He went to the old woman’s house, sat on it and said, “Little bed, the king’s kettledrum is up in the sky. I want to go to it.” The bed flew up with him, and the prince beat the drum so that the king heard it. But when he came down, the king still would not give him his daughter. “You have done the three things I asked,” he said, “but you must do one more.”

“If I can, I will,” said the prince.

The king showed him an enormously thick tree trunk lying near the court. He gave the prince a hatchet made of wax and said, “Tomorrow morning you must cut this trunk in two with this wax hatchet.”

The prince went back to the old woman’s house feeling very low. He was sure that this time the king would kill him. “The ants pressed out his oil,” he said to himself. “The tigers killed his demons. My bed helped me beat his drum. But what can I do now? How can I cut that great trunk in two with a hatchet made of wax?”

That night he flew on his bed to see the princess. “Tomorrow your father will kill me,” he told her.

“Why?” she asked.

“He wants me to chop a huge tree trunk in half with a hatchet made of wax. No one could do that!”

“Don’t be afraid,” said the princess. “Do as I tell you, and you will cut it in two quite easily.” She pulled a hair from her head and gave it to him. “Tomorrow, when nobody is near you,” she said, “say to the tree trunk, ‘The Princess Labam commands you to let yourself be cut in two by this hair.’ Then stretch the hair along the edge of the wax blade.”

The next day the prince did exactly as she had told him, and the moment the hair stretched along the blade touched the tree trunk, the trunk split into two pieces.

“Now you may marry my daughter,” said the king. The wedding was held, all the Rajas and kings of the countries round about were invited, and there was great rejoicing. A few days later the prince said to his wife, “Let us go to my father’s country.” The Princess Labam’s father gave them a great many camels, horses, rupees and servants, and they travelled in great style to the prince’s home, where they lived happily.

The prince always kept his bag, his bowl, his bed and his stick. But since nobody ever came to make war on him, he never had to use the stick.

Where this tale comes from

Joseph Jacobs placed this story second in his Indian Fairy Tales (1892). His notes say it comes from Miss Stokes’s Indian Fairy Tales, where it was told by Múniyá, one of the ayahs, and that he left it unaltered except for using “Khuda,” the word the teller first used, where Stokes had printed “God.”

The tale retains repeated threats of execution, the demons’ deaths and the prince’s secret entry into the sleeping princess’s room. These events call for discussion alongside the grateful animals and magical tests.

Read the original: Joseph Jacobs, Indian Fairy Tales (Project Gutenberg #7128, How the Raja’s Son Won the Princess Labam)

Reading guidance: Ages 9–12 with adult preview; includes lethal marriage tests, demon deaths, deceptive taking of property and uninvited entry into a sleeping person’s room.

A closer reading

The prince’s resources come from morally different sources. The ants and tigers freely repay help, while the four fakirs lose their inheritance through his deception. Calling everything a ‘magic gift’ hides that distinction. The bag and bowl later support his host, showing that a useful act can still depend on property obtained unfairly.

The king keeps moving the goal after each completed task. The ants supply collective labour, the tigers strength, the bed transport, and Labam the final secret. The title credits the prince with winning her, but the sequence makes his dependence on others unmistakable, especially on the princess whose assistance resolves the last test.

Labam eventually states that she wishes to marry him. That choice matters, but it does not retroactively authorize his visits while she sleeps. The old woman’s repeated warnings also show a cost to his persistence: she risks imprisonment while he extends his stay. Kindness, theft and pressure coexist in the hero’s conduct.

Try this with the story

For each resource, record how the prince obtains it, who actually performs a task and whether that person agrees freely. Include the ants, tigers, four fakirs, old woman and Labam. Then distinguish assistance given willingly from help or property taken through pressure.

Questions to ask

• Which resources are gifts, and which are taken through a trick?
• Why do completed tasks fail to satisfy the king at first?
• What does Labam do that the other helpers cannot?
• How do the prince’s repeated stays affect the old woman?

Related stories

• The Lambikin — another story from Joseph Jacobs’s Indian Fairy Tales
• Punchkin — another long Indian fairy tale from the same collection
• How Raja Rasalu Swung the Seventy Fair Maidens, Daughters of the King — another Indian tale in which grateful insects help a hero with an impossible task