Part 30

Now although both of them were in the habit of acting in this way, according to their natures, they had never taken any notice of that. But one day the lion, the king of beasts, came forth from his lair and stretched himself, and yawned, and looked round on all four sides, and roared three times, and then went into the presence of the tiger. The tiger also came forth from his lair, and stretched himself and yawned, and looked round on all four sides, and then went into the presence of the lion. Although both of them had always been in the habit of doing all this, yet they had never taken any notice of the fact. But now that the seed of discord was sown, they did notice it. Just as the lion thought that the tiger wanted to kill him, so also the tiger thought that the lion wanted to kill him. But then the lion thought, “I am strong, but the tiger is not. As he cannot then master me, I will investigate the matter further.” So he uttered this śloka—

“O Subāhu, to strive with Sudaṇshṭhra, possessor of complete excellence, agility, and force, is not right.”

The tiger also replied in a śloka, “O Sudaṇshṭhra, to strive with Subāhu, possessor of complete excellence, agility, and force, is not right.”

The lion asked, “Who spoke to you about this?”

The tiger replied, “The jackal.”

Then the tiger asked, “Who spoke to you about this?”

The lion replied, “The jackal.”

Then the lion thought, “This creature wanted to set us two at variance,” and struck the jackal dead with a slap in the face. Then a deity uttered this śloka—

“Friends ought not to be abandoned on account of the words of others, but the words of others ought to be tested. No reliance ought to be placed upon calumniators, who seek opportunities for sowing discord. See how the jackal, who desired to set friends at variance by means of lies, was put to death as a calumniator, while the friends were happy and rejoiced.”

XXXIV.

THE TWO OTTERS AND THE JACKAL. [175]

In long-past times there lived on the bank of a river two otters, which from time to time used to enter the water and bring fish ashore. But while the otters were on the dry land, the fish used to get back into the water.

Finding there was nothing left, the otters took counsel together one day, and determined that in future one of them should go into the water while the other remained on land, and that they should share the spoil in common. So one of them went into the water while the other remained on land. The one which went into the water frightened the fish, and drove them ashore, while the one which remained on land killed them; the fish also which remained in the water were killed by the otter which had gone into the water.

Now when the heap of fish had become great, one of the otters said, “Divide the heap.”

The other replied, “I will not divide it.”

“Why not?”

“I should not like to make a mistake.”

Then the other said, “For the matter of that, I too might make a mistake.”

While they stood there absorbed in thought, the jackal Mukhara came up to them and said, “O nephews, why are you so absorbed in thought?”

“O uncle, we have caught some fish.”

“Why do not you divide them?”

“O uncle, for fear of acting unrighteously.”

Then Mukhara said to himself, “As they both hesitate I will undertake the division.”

After looking at a tortoise which regularly waited upon the two otters, he went to one of them and said, “O nephew, what have you done in this matter?”

“O uncle, I dived into the water, and after diving into it, I frightened the fish, which were driven on land and killed by my companion here.”

“O nephew, however little was to be got by going into the water, yet Mukhara would certainly go into the water. The otter who has to be on the dry land is exposed to danger from fissures, tree-stumps, thorns, wild beasts, and men. Besides, if he were not to kill the fish, of what use would your frightening them be? In short, as the whole catch is entirely the other otter’s work, you must take what he gives you and raise no objection.”

The otter did not utter a word in reply, smitten to the heart and overawed by the jackal.

Then the jackal went to the other otter, and said, “O nephew, what was your share in this matter?”

“O uncle, I kept on the dry land, and killed the fish which were driven ashore.”

“O nephew, however little was to be got by going upon dry land, yet Mukhara would always keep to the dry land. The otter who has to go into the water is in danger from waves and waters, from tortoises, alligators, and crocodiles. Besides, if he had not frightened the fish, how could you have killed them? In short, all the take of the fishing is the other otter’s work; and therefore you must be content with what your companion gives you.” The otter, heart-smitten and overawed by the jackal’s words, sat there without saying a word. Then Mukhara said, “O nephew, there is a means of accomplishing the division without injustice, by means of the utterance of a śloka.”

Then the two otters said despondingly, “O uncle, undertake the division.”

So Mukhara divided the heap into three parts, one containing the heads of the fish, and another their tails, and the third the rest of their bodies. And he uttered this verse:—

“The goer on land receives the tails, and the goer into the depths the heads; he who is conversant with the law receives the middle parts.”

Moreover, Mukhara said to himself, “Having deluded these two, I will secure the booty.” So he seized the middle part of a large fish, and went off to his mother. She joyfully addressed him in a śloka.

“Mukhara, whence dost thou come that thou hast brought a large fish without head or tail? whence dost thou come so highly blessed?”

“Even as the king’s cat,” he replied, “that knows neither right nor wrong, in that fools strive with one another, gains thereby, so shall we obtain food in plenty.”

The mother also uttered this śloka, “O Mukhara, fine and fair exceedingly art thou who hast been too much for the otters. They twain are content, and thou hast secured a rich booty.”

XXXV.

THE JACKAL SAVES THE LION. [176]

In lost past times, when the Bodisat remained in an incomplete state of merit-accumulation, he lived in a certain hill district as a lion, king of the beasts. In the neighbourhood of the hill there dwelt five hundred jackals, which followed after him and devoured what he left. When the lion had killed any animal, and had eaten of its good flesh and drunk of its good blood, he used to leave it lying on the ground and go away. This state of things lasted a long time.

Once when the lion, king of beasts, was hunting beasts at night, he fell into a well, and all the five hundred jackals, with one exception, dispersed in divers directions. Only one of the jackals paid any attention to the lion, sitting by the edge of the well, and thinking in what way he could draw the lion out. While running to and fro in the neighbourhood of the well, he saw a small lake at no great distance. Having observed it, he dug a canal on one side, and filled the well with water from the lake, so that the lion was able to get out. A deity uttered this verse:—

“The mighty as well as the rest must make themselves friends. See how the jackal rescued the lion from out of an old well.”

XXXVI.

THE BLUE JACKAL. [177]

In times long past there was a very greedy jackal, which used to roam in the forest, and even in places uninhabited by men. At length he made his way into the house of a dyer, and fell into an indigo vat. After he had escaped he lay down to sleep on a neighbouring dunghill. Having tossed about thereon, so that his body became ever so unshapely, he jumped into the water. When he had come out, and had been exposed to the rays of the sun, he acquired the colour of cyanite.

When the other jackals saw him, they dispersed and stood afar off, and asked, “Who are you? where do you come from?”

He replied, “My name is Śataga, and I have been appointed king of the fourfooted beasts by Śakra, the king of the gods.”

The jackals considered that, as his body was of a colour never before seen, this must be true, and they made all the fourfooted beasts acquainted with the fact. The lions thought, “If some one is exalted above us and made the king of the beasts, we must go and carry this news to the chief of our band.” So they told the news to the maned chief of their band, who dwelt in a certain hill district. He ordered the other beasts to go forth and find out whether any animal had seen this chieftain of the fourfooted. So they betook themselves to where the jackal was, and made inquiries. And they perceived the jackal, like unto nothing ever seen before, surrounded by all the fourfooted creatures except the lions. Then they returned to their chief and told him what they had seen. And he, when he had listened to them, betook himself, surrounded by the band of lions, to where the jackal was. The jackal, surrounded by many quadrupeds, rode along on an elephant, with the lions around him, and then the tigers and other quadrupeds. The jackals formed a circle round him at a greater distance.

Now the jackal’s mother dwelt in a certain mountain ravine. Her son sent a jackal to her, and invited her to come, now that he had obtained the sovereign power. She asked what was the nature of his surroundings.

The messenger replied, “The inner circle is formed of lions, tigers, and elephants, but the outer of jackals.”

She said, “So much for things not following their proper order.” She also said in verse:—

“I live here comfortably in the mountain ravine, and amid cool waters enjoy my good fortune; so long as he utters no jackal’s cry, the elephant will let him retain his prosperity.”

The messenger jackal said to the jackals, “This king of the fourfooted is only another jackal. I have seen his mother who dwells in such and such a mountain ravine.”

They replied, “In that case we will test him and see whether he is a jackal or not.”

Now it is according to the nature of things that jackals, if they hear a jackal howl without howling themselves, lose their hair.

So the jackal, when he heard the other jackals lift up their voices, said to himself, “If I utter no cry, my hair will certainly fall off. But if I get off the elephant and then begin to howl, he will kill me. So I will lift up my voice where I am.”

So soon as, sitting on the elephant, he began to lift up his voice, the elephant perceived that it was a jackal that was riding on his back, so he flung him off and trampled him under foot. A deity uttered this verse:—

“He who keeps at a distance those who should be near, and brings near those who should be at a distance, will be cast down, as the jackal was by the elephant.”

XXXVII.

THE JACKAL HANGED BY THE OX. [178]

In long-past times, there lived in a certain hill-town a householder, who possessed an ox marked with signs. Śramaṇas, Brahmans, kinsmen, the poor, the helpless, the needy, and the sick provided it with sustenance, and it could wander about at its pleasure. One day, as it was roaming about, it got into a certain swamp. Towards sunset came the householder, who had heard of this, and was looking for it. As he could not get it out at the moment, he determined to do so next morning. But the ox said, “Fling me a noose, and then go away. If a jackal comes, I will pick up the noose with my horns and throw it over him.” The householder flung a noose in front of the ox and went away.

In the course of the night up came a jackal, and said, “Who is it that is tearing up these lotus roots and white lotuses?”

The ox replied, “It is I. Here I am, stuck fast in the swamp.”

The jackal thought it had found a feast, and prepared to do the ox an injury. The ox said, “Get away from here; harm and disgrace might come upon you.” But as there was no driving away the jackal, and he was still bent upon injuring as before, the ox uttered this verse—

“No lotus roots do I tear up, nor white lotuses either. If thou wishest for food mount upon my back, there wilt thou find food.”

Full of gluttony, the jackal got on the back of the ox. But the ox flung the noose with its horn, caught the jackal round the neck, and let him hang in the air. The ox uttered this verse—

“Art thou Jakara the dancing-master, or art thou one who is learning to dance? In the forest are no fees paid; arts are taught in cities.”

The jackal also uttered a verse in reply—

“Not the dancing-master Jakara am I, nor one who is learning to dance. As Śakara has provided a ladder, I betake myself to Brahma’s world.”

The ox rejoined likewise in verse—

“Śakara has not provided a ladder; still less is there any question about going to Brahma’s world. As thou hast been laid in the fetters of contrivance, thou wilt never see thyself saved.”

XXXVIII.

THE JACKAL IN THE ELEPHANT’S FOOTPRINTS. [179]

An elephant came long ago to the Himalayas to drink water. In its track followed a jackal, which saw the elephant’s footprints, and began to measure its own stride with them.

“These footprints are mine,” it said to itself.

Then springing forwards it set its foot in one of the footprints, and tripped over a broken piece of wood. [180]

A deity uttered this verse—

“In a word, O fool, thy footprints and those of the elephant are not alike. Give up this useless attempt. Thou wilt only derive weariness therefrom.”

XXXIX.

THE GUILTY DOGS. [181]

In long-past times, King Brahmadatta came to the throne in Vārāṇasī, at a period when the land was blessed with riches, profusion, prosperity, and crops, and had a large population. Now there were two dogs, Gaṇḍa and Upagaṇḍa by name, which used to gnaw the king’s horse-gear. Once when King Brahmadatta was going to take the field against the Liććhavis, he ordered his ministers to inspect the horse-gear. When they had done this, and found that it was all torn and tattered, they said to the king, “O king, the dogs have gnawed the horse-gear to pieces.”

The king said, “Honoured sirs, if this is the case, I give up the dogs altogether.”

Thereupon some of them were killed and others ran away. A dog, which came from another country, seeing them running off, asked them what had frightened them so much. They gave a full account of all that had occurred. It said, “Why do not you implore the king?”

They replied, “We who are running away have no power of imploring the king, and the others have been rendered mute.”

It said, “Wait awhile, I will implore the king in your behalf.”

Encouraged by him they turned back; and after they had made a halt they expressed their prayer in a verse, uttered at a distance from which they could be heard, saying—

“These two dogs, Gaṇḍa and Upagaṇḍa, full of force and health, living in the king’s stronghold, ought to be put to death. We are not deserving of death. O king, it is not right to let the innocent be put to death.”

Having heard this, the king said next day to his ministers, “Honoured sirs, find out those who implored me yesterday in verse.”

The ministers gave orders to the body-guards, saying, “Find out those who implored the king yesterday in verse.”

The guards said, “It was the dogs of the land that did so.”

The king said, “Honoured sirs, find out whether the horse-gear was devoured by Gaṇḍa and Upagaṇḍa, or by other dogs.”

The ministers assembled, and began to take counsel together, saying, “Honoured sirs, the king has ordered us to find out about the dogs. How shall we manage it?”

Then some of them said, “There is only one way of finding out. What need is there to seek out others? The dogs must be given a hair-pellet and made to vomit.”

When the pellet of hair had been given to the dogs, and they had been made to vomit, Gaṇḍa and Upagaṇḍa brought up fragments of leather. When the king had been informed of this, he delivered those dogs over to death. But he rendered the others free from fear.

XL.

THE HYPOCRITICAL CAT. [182]

In long-past times there was a chieftain of a company of mice who had a retinue of five hundred mice. And there was also a cat named Agnija. In his youth he had been wont to kill all the mice in the neighbourhood of his dwelling-place. But afterwards, when he had grown old, and no longer had the power of catching mice, he thought: “In former times, when I was young, I was able to catch mice by force. But now that I can do so no more, I must use some trick in order to make a meal off them.” So he began to watch the mice by stealth. By means of such watching he found out that there were five hundred mice in the troop.

At a spot not far distant from the mouse-hole, he took to performing fictitious acts of penance, and the mice, as they ran to and fro, saw him standing there with pious mien. So they cried out to him from a distance, “Uncle, what are you doing?”

The cat replied, “As in my youth I have perpetrated many vicious actions, I am now doing penance in order to make up for them.”

The mice fancied that he had given up his sinful life, and there grew up within them confidence nourished by faith.

Now as they returned into their hole every day after making their rounds, the cat always seized on and devoured the mouse which came last. Seeing that the troop was constantly dwindling, the chief thought: “There must be some cause for the fact that my mice are diminishing in number, and this cat is thriving apace.” So he began to observe the cat closely. And when he saw that the cat was fat and well covered with hair, he thought: “There is no doubt that this cat has killed the mice. Therefore must I bring the matter to the light of day.”

Now as he kept careful watch from a hiding-place, he saw how the cat ate up the mouse which went last. Then from afar off he pronounced this verse—

“As the uncle’s body waxes bigger, but my troop on the contrary becomes smaller, and as he who eats roots and berries will not become fat and well covered with hair, this is not a genuine penance, but one performed only for the sake of gain. Because the number of the mice diminished have you, O Agnija, thrived.”

XLI.

THE GAZELLE AND THE HUNTER. [183]

In long-past times, when the Bodisat was in a state of indefinite merit-aggregation, he was the prince of a band of five hundred gazelles. Now a hunter had prepared a great many traps, nets, and springs, for the purpose of catching gazelles. As the gazelle prince carelessly enjoyed life, wandering about the forest with a troop of five hundred gazelles, he was caught in a net one day while heading the troop of gazelles. When the other gazelles saw him caught in the net, they all fled away, except one doe which remained beside the prince. Although the gazelle prince struggled hard, he was not able to tear the net. When the doe saw that, as she ran to and fro, she said, “As the hunter has prepared this net, exert thyself, O blessed one, exert thyself, O head of the gazelles.”

He replied, “Although I press my hoofs firmly against the ground, yet as the net which binds me is strong, and my feet are sorely wounded, I cannot tear the net. What then is to be done?”

Presently came the hunter towards that spot, dressed in brown clothes and bearing a bow and arrows. The doe saw the hunter draw nigh in order to kill the gazelle prince. Having seen him, she hurriedly exclaimed in verse—

“As this is the hunter who prepared this net, exert thyself, O highly blessed gazelle prince, exert thyself.”

He replied, also in verse—

“Although I set my hoofs hard against the ground, yet as the net which binds me is strong, and my feet are sorely wounded, I am not able to tear the net. What, then, is to be done?”

Then the doe approached the hunter with courageous heart, and coming up to him uttered this śloka—

“O hunter, draw thy sword and first kill me, and then kill the gazelle prince.”

When the hunter asked her with astonishment what she had to do with the gazelle prince, she replied, “He is my husband.” The hunter replied in a verse—

“I will kill neither thee nor the gazelle prince. Thou shalt keep company with thy beloved spouse.”

She answered, likewise in a verse—

“As I, O hunter, take pleasure in my dear spouse, so mayst thou, O hunter, enjoy thyself with all that belongs to thee.”

The hunter, whose astonishment became still greater, went away together with the gazelles, whom he left at liberty.

XLII.

THE MONKEYS SAVED FROM DEATH. [184]

In long-past times there lived in a hill-place a troop of five hundred monkeys, which, when the corn was ripe, devoured the crops. The men who lived in that place assembled and began to take counsel together, saying—

“Honoured sirs, what shall we do, seeing that the monkeys endanger the corn?”

Some of them held that the monkeys must be killed. But how were they to set about doing that? All the trees which stood around the place must be cut down, one Tinduka [185] tree only being allowed to stand. And a hedge of thorns must be drawn around, and the monkeys must be killed inside the enclosure, when they climbed the tree in search of food. Accordingly all the trees growing around that place were cut down, only one Tinduka tree being allowed to stand; and that tree was surrounded by a hedge of thorns, and a watchman was set there, with orders to give notice as soon as the monkeys assembled.

Now one day when the Tinduka tree had put forth flowers and fruits, and these had grown ripe, the monkeys said to their chief—

“O chief, as the Tinduka tree is ripe, let us go to it and eat.”

Thereupon the chief, with a troop of five hundred monkeys, climbed the Tinduka tree, and they began to devour the fruit. The watchman brought word to the men who dwelt in that place, saying, “Honoured sirs, all the monkeys have climbed up the Tinduka tree and are feeding. Do ye do what ought to be done.”

Then in all haste the troop of men who dwelt there, with clenched fists, and armed with bows and arrows and battle-axes, betook themselves to the Tinduka tree and began to cut it down. Fear came upon the monkeys, and they sprang to and fro on the tree. But the chief sat still and did nothing. The monkeys said to him, “O chief, wherefore do you sit there tranquilly, while we are running to and fro in the pangs of intolerable misery?” He replied in a verse—

“The busy and the idle are like unto each other. The ends of the tree are many; let food be taken by him who is intent upon his life.”

At that time one of the monkey-chief’s young ones, a captive in the village, was sitting absorbed in thought, leaning his cheek upon his hand. A good monkey came that way, saw the young monkey thus absorbed in thought, and said—

“O friend, why do you sit there thus absorbed in thought, leaning your cheek upon your hand?”

The young monkey replied—

“How could I not be absorbed in thought, since the whole troop of the men who live in the village have taken the field in order to put my relatives to death?”

“Why do you not behave with courage?”

“How can a captive behave with courage?”

“I will set you free from your bonds.”

So soon as the young monkey was set free, he set the village on fire. When it began to burn, and clamour and uproar arose, the inhabitants heard it and said—

“Honoured sirs, while we and the monkeys are at a distance, a great calamity has occurred. As the village is burning, we will put out the fire and then come back.”

So they hastened to put out the fire; but the monkeys came down from the Tinduka tree and ran away.

XLIII.

INCREDULITY PUNISHED. [186]

In long-past times, in a spot well provided with flowers and fruits, in the neighbourhood of a hill-town, there lived two chiefs of monkey troops, each of which was composed of five hundred monkeys. One of the two chiefs dreamed one night that he was placed alive in a caldron, together with a retinue of five hundred monkeys. At this he was greatly alarmed, and he gave way to lamentation. Before the break of day he arose and called the monkeys together, and began to relate to them his dreams.