The Magic Fiddle

Watercolor illustration, midday sun casting sharp shadows, of seven women standing around a weathered stone well, their faces etched with accusatory glares. They point dramatically at a young woman with a cracked clay jar, water spilling from its side. A small, mischievous-looking Bonga, with large, iridescent eyes, lurks nearby, partially obscured by swaying reeds. The sky is a pale cerulean blue with soft, cumulus clouds, casting a dappled light on the scene. The watercolor style emphasizes soft blending, with visible brushstrokes suggesting the rough texture of the well stones and the woven fabric of the women’s clothes. The overall tone is tense and suspicious.

Once upon a time, there were seven brothers and their sister. The brothers were all married, but their wives didn’t want to cook for everyone. Their sister stayed home to do all the cooking. The wives were very jealous of her because of this. They decided to trick her so one of them could be the cook instead. They said, “She doesn’t go out to the fields to work. She just stays home, but she doesn’t even have the food ready on time!” They asked a magical being called a Bonga to help them. They promised the Bonga good things if he would help them. They told the Bonga, “When our sister goes to get water, make the water disappear when she tries to fill her jar. Then make it slowly come back. That will make her late! And maybe you can keep her for yourself!”

At lunchtime, the sister went to get water, but the water suddenly vanished! She started to cry. Then, slowly, the water started to come back. When it was up to her ankles, she tried to fill her jar, but it wouldn’t go under the water. She was scared and started calling for her brother:

"Oh! my brother, the water is up to my ankles,
But, Oh! my brother, I can't fill my jar!"

The water kept rising until it was up to her knees. She cried again:

"Oh! my brother, the water is up to my knees,
But, Oh! my brother, I still can't fill my jar!"

The water kept going up, and when it reached her waist, she cried out:

"Oh! my brother, the water is up to my waist,
But, Oh! my brother, I still can't fill my jar!"

The water still rose, and when it reached her neck, she kept crying:

"Oh! my brother, the water is up to my neck,
But, Oh! my brother, I still can't fill my jar!"

Finally, the water was so deep that she felt like she was drowning. She shouted:

"Oh! my brother, the water is taller than a man,
Oh! my brother, my jar is starting to fill!"

Watercolor illustration, warm sunset lighting painting the scene in golden hues, of a young woman standing in a pool of water rising to her waist. A partially submerged, intricately decorated clay jar floats nearby, its broken handle visible. She has a distressed expression, tears welling in her eyes, and is looking upwards with pleading. The water is crystal clear, but with swirling, magical-looking currents illuminated by the setting sun. Reeds and tall grasses, rendered with delicate watercolor washes, surround the pool. The atmosphere is ethereal and melancholic, the subtle color gradients enhancing the feeling of magic and impending doom.

The jar filled with water, and she sank down with it and drowned. The Bonga turned her into a Bonga like himself and took her away.

After a while, she came back as a bamboo plant growing near the water where she had drowned. The bamboo grew very tall. A musician, called a Jogi, walked by and saw it. He thought, “This would make a great fiddle!” So, he came back with an axe to cut it down. But when he was about to start, the bamboo called out, “Don’t cut at the bottom, cut higher up!” When he lifted his axe to cut higher up, the bamboo cried out, “Don’t cut near the top, cut at the bottom!” When the Jogi got ready to cut at the bottom, the bamboo said, “Don’t cut at the bottom, cut higher up!” And when he was about to cut higher up, it said again, “Don’t cut high up, cut at the bottom!” The Jogi was sure that a Bonga was trying to scare him. He got angry and cut down the bamboo at the bottom. He took it home and made a fiddle out of it.

Watercolor illustration, morning light filtering through leaves casting dappled shadows, of a tall, slender bamboo plant growing near a muddy riverbank. A man with a well-worn axe, dressed as a Jogi in tattered saffron robes, stands looking up at it with a profoundly confused expression, his brow furrowed. He has long, matted hair and wears simple, patched clothes. The background shows a clear blue sky with a few fluffy, white clouds reflecting in the calm river water. The bamboo’s texture is finely detailed, showing the individual segments and subtle variations in color. The scene is peaceful yet unsettling, the vibrant green of the bamboo contrasting with the Jogi’s drab attire.

The fiddle sounded amazing, and everyone loved to hear it. The Jogi took it with him when he went to ask for food, and the music was so good that he always came home with a full bag of food.

Watercolor illustration, soft, warm light from an unseen fire illuminating the scene, of a Jogi playing a bamboo fiddle. His eyes are closed and he has a peaceful, almost beatific expression. People surrounding him are smiling, their faces lit by the firelight, and listening attentively, their postures relaxed and appreciative. A small, patched bag of food sits near his worn leather sandals. The background is slightly blurred, suggesting the low-lit interior of a village hut. The watercolor technique emphasizes the flow of the music, with swirling washes of color emanating from the fiddle. The atmosphere is one of serenity and community.

Sometimes, when he was traveling, he would visit the house of the Bonga girl’s brothers. The music from the fiddle made them feel very sad. Some of them even cried because the fiddle sounded like someone in pain. The oldest brother wanted to buy it. He offered to give the Jogi food for a whole year if he would sell him the fiddle. But the Jogi knew how special it was and didn’t want to sell it.

Watercolor illustration, soft, ethereal light emanating from the fiddle, creating a halo effect, of a fiddle, made of bamboo, resting on a weathered wooden table. It glows with a soft, ethereal light, the light reflecting off the polished wood of the table. In the background, blurred and desaturated, are the sad faces of her brothers listening to the music, their expressions filled with longing and remorse. The watercolor style is loose and flowing, with washes of color creating a sense of sadness and beauty. The scene is magical and melancholic, the music filling the air with unspoken emotions.

One day, the Jogi went to the house of a village leader and played his fiddle. He asked for something to eat. The leader offered to buy the fiddle and promised to pay a lot for it. But the Jogi said no because the fiddle was how he got his food. The leader saw that he wouldn’t sell it, so he gave him food and lots of drinks. The Jogi drank so much that he got very sleepy. While he was sleeping, they took away his fiddle and put their old, broken one in its place. When the Jogi woke up, he realized his fiddle was gone. He thought they had stolen it and asked them to give it back. They said they didn’t take it, so he had to leave without his fiddle. The leader’s son was a musician, and he played the Jogi’s fiddle. Everyone loved the beautiful music it made.

When everyone was out working in the fields, the Bonga girl would come out of the bamboo fiddle and make food for the leader’s son. She would eat some herself and then put the rest under his bed, covering it up so it wouldn’t get dirty. Then she would go back into the fiddle. This happened every day. The others in the house thought that one of the young man’s friends was doing this to be nice to him. So they didn’t worry about it. But the young leader wanted to find out who was doing it. He thought, “I’ll catch her today and scold her! She’s making me look silly in front of everyone else!” So, he hid behind a pile of wood. Soon, the girl came out of the bamboo fiddle and started to fix her hair. After she was done, she cooked the rice like always. She ate some and put the rest under the young man’s bed. As she was about to go back into the fiddle, he jumped out and grabbed her! The Bonga girl cried, “Oh no! You might be someone I can’t marry!” He said, “No. From today on, you and I are together.” And they started talking and getting to know each other. When the others came home, they saw that she was both a human and a Bonga, and they were very happy.

Watercolor illustration, dim light filtering through cracks in a wooden wall, casting long shadows, of a young man hiding behind a rough woodpile, his eyes wide with fear. He is peeking out at a young woman with braided hair and mixed features (human and Bonga), her back to him as she arranges food beneath a rough-hewn bed. The room is simple and rustic, with a dirt floor and a woven rug. A single clay lamp provides the only light. The watercolor style emphasizes the textures of the wood, the rough weave of the rug, and the woman’s delicate features. The scene is tense and secretive, filled with unspoken emotions.

After some time, the Bonga girl’s family became very poor. One day, her brothers came to visit the leader’s house.

Watercolor illustration, warm afternoon light bathing the courtyard, of the Bonga girl serving water to seven weary-looking men who are sitting on woven mats in a courtyard. She has a calm, knowing expression, a hint of a smile playing on her lips, while the men appear tired and dusty from travel, their clothes creased and worn. The leader’s house is visible in the background, showcasing simple mud brick architecture with a thatched roof. Details include a dusty ground, cracked clay pots, and the texture of the woven mats. The air feels dry and still, the colors muted to reflect the desert environment. The overall tone is one of hospitality and resilience.

The Bonga girl knew them right away, but they didn’t know who she was. She brought them water when they arrived and then gave them food. Then she sat down near them and started to talk in a sad voice. She told them how badly their wives had treated her. She told them everything that had happened and said, “You must have known all this, but you didn’t help me!” And that was all the revenge she took.

Watercolor illustration, subdued lighting under a gray sky, of the Bonga girl standing near a weathered stone well with her brothers, all the brothers look remorseful and somber, their heads bowed in shame. The Bonga girl has a stoic expression, her gaze distant and unwavering. The well is surrounded by lush vegetation, watered by hidden springs, and simple houses with thatched roofs in the background. The watercolor technique emphasizes the textures of the stone, the lushness of the vegetation, and the brothers’ dejected postures. The atmosphere is heavy with guilt and regret.

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The Magic Tree with Needles

The Lonely Elephant and His Friends

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