The King of Crocodiles

A farmer went to look at his riverside fields and found his young green wheat nearly ruined—trodden by crocodiles lying lazy among the crops like great logs. He raged and ordered them back to the water; they only laughed. Every day the same until one morning he lost his temper and, when they would not budge, threw stones. They rushed him fiercely. Quaking, he fell on his knees and begged for mercy.

“We will hurt neither you nor your wheat,” said the biggest, “if you give us your daughter in marriage; if not, we will eat you for throwing stones.” Thinking only of saving his life, he promised. At home his wife was furious—their daughter was as beautiful as the moon, and betrothal into a rich family was already arranged. She persuaded him to ignore the promise and go on with that wedding. Near the day the bridegroom died. Soon another suitor asked for the girl—then fell into a lingering illness. Misfortune piled on until even the wife admitted the crocodiles must be behind the bad luck.

At her advice the farmer went to the bank to beg release. They would hear no excuse and threatened fearful punishments if the agreement were not fulfilled at once. He came home sorrowful; she still refused. Next day the poor girl fell and broke her leg. Then the mother said the demons would kill them all—better marry her into a strange house than watch her die. The farmer told the crocodiles they might send the bridal procession whenever they chose.

Next day female crocodiles arrived with trays of beautiful clothes and henna for the bride’s hands. They were polite and exact in every ceremony. Still the girl wept: “Mother, are you marrying me into the river? I shall drown!” In due course the procession came—such magnificence wonderstruck the village: instruments, trays of sweets, garments, jewels, rich stuffs, and in the middle, a blaze of gold and gems, the King of the Crocodiles. Comforted a little by the splendour, she still wept when put in the gorgeous palanquin and borne to the bank. There they dragged her toward the water despite her screams—yet the moment her feet touched, the stream divided, rising on either side into a path to the river bottom. The bridal party disappeared; her father, who had come so far, stood astonished on the bank.

Months passed with no news. The farmer’s wife wept, sure the girl had drowned and that the dividing stream was invention. But when the King left with his bride, he had given her father a piece of brick. “Throw this far into the stream whenever you wish to see her,” he had said, “and you will see what you will see.” Remembering, the farmer went with the brick and cast it far. Waters rolled back from his feet, leaving a dry path of clean sand bordered by flowers. He hurried along to a magnificent palace—golden roof, diamond walls, lofty trees, bright gardens, a sentry pacing the gate.

“Whose palace is this?” he asked the sentry. “The King of the Crocodiles’,” came the answer. “At least she has a splendid house,” thought the farmer, “if only her husband were half as handsome!” “Is my daughter within?” he asked. The sentry laughed. “A likely story—my master married to your daughter!”

She sat by an open window waiting for her husband from the hunt—happy as the day is long, for in his own river-kingdom the King was the handsomest young prince anyone ever saw; only on shore did he wear crocodile form. Palace and prince had kept her from missing home—until a strange voice at the gate woke memory. She knew her father’s tones, saw him in poor clothes in the glittering court, longed to run and embrace him, yet dared not disobey her husband’s rule: no going out, no letting anyone in without leave. She called from the window to wait until the King returned.

Soon a troop of horsemen entered—silver armour from head to foot, and in the centre a prince clad all in burnished gold, the handsomest, most gallant ever seen. The farmer fell at his feet. “Protect me!” he cried. “My daughter was carried off by the dreadful King of the Crocodiles!” The horseman in gold smiled. “I am that King,” he said. “Your daughter is a good, obedient wife, and she will be glad to see you.”

There were rejoicings and feasts. After some days the farmer grew restless and begged to take his daughter home briefly to convince his wife she was well. The King refused—but offered house and land so the parents might dwell with them. The farmer must ask his wife first; he returned with several bricks to part the stream again. At first she would not live in Crocodile Kingdom, yet agreed to visit—and grew so fond of the beautiful river country that she kept returning until at last the old couple never came back to shore, living altogether with their daughter the Queen and their son-in-law, the King of the Crocodiles.

Where this tale comes from

This tale is from Flora Annie Steel’s Tales of the Punjab (1894). R. C. Temple’s notes give the original title as Bâdshâh Ghariâl and say it is commonly believed in the Punjab that crocodiles lie among the crops, as they do at the start of this story.

He also notes that the word used for the crocodile “demons” was jinn, and that the trays of henna the crocodile ladies bring belong to a real wedding custom in which the bride’s friends carry henna to her. The deaths of the first bridegroom and the girl’s broken leg are mentioned briefly, as in the source.

Read the original: Flora Annie Steel, Tales of the Punjab, 1894 (Project Gutenberg #6145)

Reading guidance: for mature readers. This wonder tale includes coerced marriage, a suitor’s death, injury and a husband’s restrictions on his wife’s movements.

A closer reading

The underwater palace changes the daughter’s surroundings, but it does not change how the marriage begins: her father bargains away her future under threat, and she is taken toward the water while crying out. The story’s claim that she later becomes happy belongs to its wonder-tale ending; it cannot make the original coercion an act of kindness or good faith.

The brick gives the father a way to visit, while the daughter still cannot leave the house or receive him without permission. Eventually her parents move to the river kingdom because the king refuses a visit home. That resolves the family’s separation on his terms. Following who can travel, decide and invite reveals the unequal power beneath the palace’s glitter.

Try this with the story

Draw the riverbank, palace gate and family home. Mark which journeys each character may make and who grants permission. Compare the father’s visiting brick with the daughter’s inability to invite him inside; discuss what a freely chosen reunion would require.

Talk about it

• Why did the farmer’s wife at last agree to let her daughter marry the crocodile?
• Why do you think the King of the Crocodiles looked like a crocodile on land but a prince in his own kingdom?
• Would you have gone to live in the river kingdom, like the farmer and his wife? Why?

Related stories

• The Snake Prince — another Indian tale where a girl marries an enchanted animal husband
• The Jackal and the Crocodile — another Punjabi story where crocodiles live along the riverbank
• The Brahmin Girl Who Married a Tiger — a South Indian tale of a girl married to a wild animal in disguise