One scorching summer, the wells of Vijayanagara sank low and Tenali Rama's garden began to wither. Watering it bucket by bucket was slow, weary work — and that very week, two thieves decided that the famous jester's prosperous-looking house was ripe for robbing.
After dark they crept into his courtyard and hid in the thick bushes by the well, waiting for the household to sleep. But as Tenali walked out to wash his hands, he heard a rustle and caught the glint of watching eyes. He did not shout. He did not call the guards. He strolled back inside and said, rather louder than necessary, "Wife, listen! The town is full of thieves these days. Nothing is safe in the house. Bring every jewel and coin we own — we will lock them in the iron chest and sink it in the well. No thief will ever think of looking there!"
With much groaning and clanking, husband and wife dragged out a heavy chest — packed tight with stones — and dropped it into the well with a mighty splash. Then the lamps went out, and the house fell silent.
In the bushes, the thieves hugged each other with joy. All night long they hauled up bucket after bucket, pouring the water out to lower the well and reach the treasure. And the water ran obediently along the little channels Tenali had dug that evening, soaking every bed of his thirsty garden. By the first light of dawn the well was nearly empty, the garden was gloriously watered, and the rope struck a chest that took the last of their strength to raise. Inside lay stones — and a palm-leaf note: 'Wages for watering my garden: one chest of the finest stones.'
Just then Tenali appeared, stretching pleasantly. "Friends, you have done in one night what would have taken me a month! Come again when the beds are dry." The thieves fell at his feet, begged forgiveness, and fled the town — and the story ran through Vijayanagara faster than the water had run through the garden.