Tenali Raman and the Thieves

It had been a dry summer in Vijayanagara. Tenali Raman’s garden was wilting, and every evening he had to draw buckets of water from the well to keep his plants alive. It was hard work, and his back ached.

One evening, as he was walking home, he noticed two shadowy figures crouching behind the bushes at the edge of his garden. Thieves, he thought. They’re waiting for us to go to sleep.

Tenali went inside and spoke to his wife in a loud voice, so that his words would carry out of the open window.

“My dear, I’ve heard that there are thieves in the neighbourhood. We must hide our gold and jewels somewhere safe tonight.”

His wife looked puzzled, since they had very little gold. But Tenali winked at her, and she understood.

“Where shall we hide them?” she said, just as loudly.

“In the well,” said Tenali. “No thief will ever think of looking there.”

He took an old iron box, filled it with heavy stones, and carried it out to the well, grunting as if it were full of treasure. Then he dropped it in with a great splash, went back inside, and blew out the lamp.

The thieves rubbed their hands together. As soon as the house was dark, they crept to the well. One of them let down the bucket and pulled up the water. He poured it out on the ground. Then he let the bucket down again. And again. And again.

The well was deep and full. All night long the two thieves drew up bucket after bucket, sweating and puffing, pouring the water out onto the thirsty garden around them. The flowers drank. The vegetables drank. The mango tree drank.

Just as the sky began to grow pale, the bucket finally scraped against the bottom, and they hauled up the iron box. They broke open the lid, and found nothing inside but stones.

At that moment the door of the house opened. There stood Tenali Raman, yawning and stretching.

“Thank you, friends,” he said cheerfully. “I haven’t had such a good night’s sleep in weeks. And my garden hasn’t been this well watered all summer. How much do I owe you for your work?”

The thieves did not wait to discuss their wages. They dropped the bucket and ran, and they were never seen in that part of the city again. And Tenali Raman’s garden bloomed beautifully for the rest of the year.