The Rajah who Lost his Head

In a large palace, surrounded by beautiful gardens and a moat, there once lived a young rajah who was very spoiled. He had a whole team of servants and courtiers to attend to his every need. The noblemen would seek out the prince to try and become his friend. The ordinary people in the village came regularly to the palace to pay their respects to the rajah and his royal family.

But the prince had no interest in any of them. He had only one friend with whom he wanted to spend his time—and that was Lutung, his pet monkey.

Now Lutung was no ordinary monkey. He was a very clever fellow indeed. He could perform the most amazing tricks for his royal companion.

He could juggle ten mangoes at once. He could climb the curtains, swing from the rafters and do somersaults in the air. He could dance, sing and play the fool. But he would perform only for the rajah—no one else could make him do a thing.

Every evening, the young rajah would sit down to dinner with Lutung, who would be dressed in the finest clothes and seated in his little golden chair. After their meal, Lutung would entertain his master with his tricks until tears of laughter rolled down the rajah's cheeks.

The room would end up in a terrible mess but there was always someone to clean up after them. After the performance, the pair would go hand-in-hand to bed.

Many in the palace began to worry that the rajah loved his monkey too much. Why didn't he want any human friends? Some people were even jealous of Lutung's place in his master's heart.

When the rajah was old enough, his ministers decided that he should get married. They thought a wife might bring him to his senses.

The rajah didn't want a wife. But his ministers said that if he didn't comply, they would be forced to take Lutung away, so he had no choice in the matter.

The ministers searched the kingdom high and low until they found a beautiful young girl from a noble family. They made arrangements to meet the girl's father, and went to visit him wearing their finest silk sarongs. Tucked in each minister's sarong was a jewelled dagger with a wavy blade called a kris.

They brought ceremonial gifts of clothes, food and a ring. They talked about the virtues of the young rajah. And to further convince the girl's father of the advantages of the union, they presented him with a small fortune.

Eventually, everyone came to an agreement. The wedding date was set and preparations for the ceremony began. It was to be a very grand wedding indeed.

When the big day arrived, the palace began to fill with impressive noblemen and women dressed in their finest clothes accompanied by their attendants carrying presents.

Three large open-sided grass-roofed structures called bales had been constructed for the wedding. One was for the ceremony, another for the banquet and a third for the entertainment.

Inside the bales were elaborate offerings to the gods including great pyramids of fruit, flowers and roast chickens, as well as dainty little figures cut out from palm leaf. There were tables and chairs for the important guests and Balinese noblemen. And all the common people from the surrounding villages crowded around outside.

Before long the rajah and his bride appeared. A murmur of appreciation arose from the crowd as they saw the couple's fine wedding clothes and beautiful gold jewelry.

The priest performed the wedding ceremony which, to the rajah, seemed to last forever. He sulked throughout, thinking only of his dear Lutung.

At the wedding dinner, the rajah sat in sullen silence. The silver platters carrying the roast suckling pig and other spicy dishes could not tempt him. Where was his darling monkey? Surely he would be allowed to entertain him on his wedding day?

Sadly, the ministers had locked Lutung up in a small room in the palace. They had even tied him to a chair to be doubly sure he would not disrupt the wedding party. But it didn't take Lutung long to gnaw through the string and free himself. He hid behind the door waiting to escape when someone came in with his dinner.

Meanwhile, the young rajah was getting very restless. His beautiful bride was of no interest to him. And all the rich and noble people bored him to tears.

"Oh, where is my dearest Lutung?" he thought to himself. "He is the only one in the whole world who can make me laugh."

Soon the party was shown into the bale for the evening's entertainment. The ministers hoped the spoiled rajah would at last show some interest in what they had arranged. First to arrive were two storytellers, who began telling the ancient tales of Bali. While the audience sat spellbound, the rajah only sulked.

"I want Lutung!" he cried, "not these two fools."

Then came three beautiful little girls who performed the finest Balinese dance called the legong. Dressed from head to foot in silk cloth, their heads adorned with quivering gold head-dresses and frangipani blossoms, the three dancers amazed the audience as they moved elegantly to the music of the traditional Balinese orchestra called a gamelan.

Only one member of the audience was not impressed.

"This is boring," complained the rajah. "Where is Lutung?"

The prince could stand it no longer. He made his excuses, saying he had a terrible headache, and went into his private garden for some peace and quiet. His new wife waited as he left and then followed twenty paces behind him.

The rajah came to a large wooden bed under a scented frangipani tree and lay down. Suddenly he felt a tug at his silk sarong. He looked down and was overjoyed to see his own dear Lutung.

But the rajah was so tired after the day's celebrations that he didn't want to play any games or watch Lutung perform any tricks. He lay on his pillows, closed his eyes and told Lutung to make sure no one disturbed him.

Lutung obediently took his place next to the rajah.

Before long the worried bride approached to see what the matter was. Lutung, remembering what he had been told, jumped at her and bared his fangs.

She was scared away in an instant.

A senior minister came next. He wanted the rajah to return to the wedding. But no sooner had he appeared than Lutung grabbed his legs. Frightened by the ferocious monkey, he quickly ran away.

As the rajah continued resting, Lutung sat guard beside him.

After a while, a huge bluebottle flew near the rajah's head. As the fly buzzed around, Lutung removed the kris from the rajah's sarong, ready to chop it into pieces.

" Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!" went the fly as Lutung observed it warily.

Suddenly the fly landed on the rajah's neck and Lutung brought the kris down heavily, killing the fly. But unfortunately, the monkey also chopped off the rajah's head.

Lutung looked down in horror. His master was dead. He ran far away from the palace and was never seen again.

The tale of the rajah who lost his head was told far and wide as a warning to those who believed they could make pets out of wild animals. It is far better for everyone— both animal and man—if the animals are left where they belong... in the wild.