Story of the Lion, the Panther, the Crow and the Jackal. [34]

There lived once in a certain forest a lion, named Madotkata, and he had three followers, a panther, a crow, and a jackal. That lion once saw a camel, that had escaped from a caravan, entering his wood, a creature he was not familiar with before, of ridiculous appearance. That king of beasts said in astonishment, "What is this creature?" And the crow, who knew when it behoved him to speak, [35] said, "It is a camel." Then the lion, out of curiosity, had the camel summoned, and giving him a promise of protection, he made him his courtier, and placed him about his person.

One day the lion was wounded in a fight with an elephant, and being out of health, made many fasts, though surrounded by those attendants who were in good health. Then the lion, being exhausted, roamed about in search of food, but not finding any, secretly asked all his courtiers, except the camel, what was to be done. They said to him:--"Your Highness, we must give advice which is seasonable in our present calamity. What friendship can you have with a camel, and why do you not eat him? He is a gra.s.s-eating animal, and therefore meant to be devoured by us flesh-eaters. And why should not one be sacrificed to supply food to many? If your Highness should object, on the ground that you cannot slay one to whom you have granted protection, we will contrive a plot by which we shall induce the camel himself to offer you his own body." When they had said this, the crow, by the permission of the lion, after arranging the plot, went and said to that camel: "This master of ours is overpowered with hunger, and says nothing to us, so we intend to make him well-disposed to us by offering him our bodies, and you had better do the same, in order that he may be well-disposed towards you." When the crow said this to the camel, the simple-minded camel agreed to it, and came to the lion with the crow. Then the crow said, "King, eat me, for I am my own master." Then the lion said, "What is the use of eating such a small creature as you?" Thereupon the jackal said--"Eat me,"

and the lion rejected him in the same way. Then the panther said "Eat me," and yet the lion would not eat him; and at last the camel said "Eat me." So the lion, and the crow, and his fellows entrapped him by these deceitful offers, and taking him at his word, killed him, divided him into portions, and ate him.

"In the same way some treacherous person has instigated Pingalaka against me without cause. So now destiny must decide. For it is better to be the servant of a vulture-king with swans for courtiers, than to serve a swan as king, if his courtiers be vultures, much less a king of a worse character, with such courtiers. [36]

"When the dishonest Damanaka heard Sanjivaka say that, he replied, "Everything is accomplished by resolution, listen--I will tell you a tale to prove this."

Story of the pair of t.i.ttibhas.

There lived a certain c.o.c.k t.i.ttibha on the sh.o.r.e of the sea with his hen. And the hen, being about to lay eggs, said to the c.o.c.k: "Come, let us go away from this place, for if I lay eggs here, the sea may carry them off with its waves." When the c.o.c.k-bird heard this speech of the hen's, he said to her--"The sea cannot contend with me." On hearing that, the hen said--"Do not talk so; what comparison is there between you and the sea? People must follow good advice, otherwise they will be ruined."

Story of the Tortoise and the two Swans. [37]

For there was in a certain lake a tortoise, named Kambugriva, and he had two swans for friends, Vikata and Sankata. Once on a time the lake was dried up by drought, and they wanted to go to another lake; so the tortoise said to them, "Take me also to the lake you are desirous of going to." When the two swans heard this, they said to their friend the tortoise--"The lake to which we wish to go is a tremendous distance off; but, if you wish to go there too, you must do what we tell you. You must take in your teeth a stick held by us, and while travelling through the air, you must remain perfectly silent, otherwise you will fall and be killed." The tortoise agreed, and took the stick in his teeth, and the two swans flew up into the air, holding the two ends of it. And gradually the two swans, carrying the tortoise, drew near that lake, and were seen by some men living in a town below; and the thoughtless tortoise heard them making a chattering, while they were discussing with one another, what the strange thing could be that the swans were carrying. So the tortoise asked the swans what the chattering below was about, and in so doing let go the stick from its mouth, and falling down to the earth, was there killed by the men.

"Thus you see that a person who lets go common sense will be ruined, like the tortoise that let go the stick." When the hen-bird said this, the c.o.c.k-bird answered her, "This is true, my dear, but hear this story also."

Story of the three Fish.

Of old time there were three fish in a lake near a river, one was called Anagatavidhatri, a second Pratyutpannamati and the third Yadbhavishya, [38] and they were companions. One day they heard some fishermen, who pa.s.sed that way, saying to one another, "Surely there must be fish in this lake. Thereupon the prudent Anagatavidhatri, fearing to be killed by the fishermen, entered the current of the river and went to another place. But Pratyutpannamati remained where he was, without fear, saying to himself, "I will take the expedient course if any danger should arise." And Yadbhavishya remained there, saying to himself, "What must be, must be." Then those fishermen came and threw a net into that lake. But the cunning Pratyutpannamati, the moment he felt himself hauled up in the net, made himself rigid, and remained as if he were dead. The fishermen, who were killing the fish, did not kill him, thinking that he had died of himself, so he jumped into the current of the river, and went off somewhere else, as fast as he could. But Yadbhavishya, like a foolish fish, bounded and wriggled in the net, so the fishermen laid hold of him and killed him.

"So I too will adopt an expedient when the time arrives; I will not go away through fear of the sea." Having said this to his wife, the t.i.ttibha remained where he was, in his nest; and there the sea heard his boastful speech. Now, after some days, the hen-bird laid eggs, and the sea carried off the eggs with his waves, out of curiosity, saying to himself; "I should like to know what this t.i.ttibha will do to me." And the hen-bird, weeping, said to her husband; "The very calamity which I prophesied to you, has come upon us." Then that resolute t.i.ttibha said to his wife, "See, what I will do to that wicked sea!" So he called together all the birds, and mentioned the insult he had received, and went with them and called on the lord Garuda for protection. And the birds said to him: "Though thou art our protector, we have been insulted by the sea as if we were unprotected, in that it has carried away some of our eggs." Then Garuda was angry, and appealed to Vishnu, who dried up the sea with the weapon of fire, and made it restore the eggs. [39]

"So you must be wise in calamity and not let go resolution. But now a battle with Pingalaka is at hand for you. When he shall erect his tail, and arise with his four feet together, then you may know that he is about to strike you. And you must have your head ready tossed up, and must gore him in the stomach, and lay your enemy low, with all his entrails torn out."

After Damanaka had said this to the bull Sanjivaka, he went to Karataka, and told him that he had succeeded in setting the two at variance.

Then Sanjivaka slowly approached Pingalaka, being desirous of finding out the mind of that king of beasts by his face and gestures. And he saw that the lion was prepared to fight, being evenly balanced on all four legs, and having erected his tail, and the lion saw that the bull had tossed up his head in fear. Then the lion sprang on the bull and struck him with his claws, the bull replied with his horns, and so their fight went on. And the virtuous Karataka, seeing it, said to Damanaka--"Why have you brought calamity on our master to gain your own ends? Wealth obtained by oppression of subjects, friendship obtained by deceit, and a lady-love gained by violence, will not remain long. But enough; whoever says much to a person who despises good advice, incurs thereby misfortune, as Suchimukha from the ape."

Story of the Monkeys, the Firefly, and the Bird. [40]

Once on a time, there were some monkeys wandering in a troop in a wood. In the cold weather they saw a firefly and thought it was real fire. So they placed gra.s.s and leaves upon it, and tried to warm themselves at it, and one of them fanned the firefly with his breath. A bird named Suchimukha, when he saw it, said to him, "This is not fire, this is a firefly, do not fatigue yourself." Though the monkey heard, he did not desist, and thereupon the bird came down from the tree, and earnestly dissuaded him, at which the ape was annoyed, and throwing a stone at Suchimukha, crushed him.

"So one ought not to admonish him, who will not act on good advice. Why then should I speak? you well know that you brought about this quarrel with a mischievous object, and that which is done with evil intentions cannot turn out well."

Story of Dharmabuddhi and Dushtabuddhi. [41]

For instance, there were long ago in a certain village two brothers, the sons of a merchant, Dharmabuddhi and Dushtabuddhi by name. They left their father's house and went to another country to get wealth, and with great difficulty acquired two thousand gold dinars. And with them they returned to their own city. And they buried those dinars at the foot of a tree, with the exception of one hundred, which they divided between them in equal parts, and so they lived in their father's house.

But one day Dushtabuddhi went by himself and dug up of his own accord those dinars, which were buried at the foot of the tree, for he was vicious and extravagant. [42] And after one month only had pa.s.sed, he said to Dharmabuddhi: "Come, my elder brother, let us divide those dinars; I have expenses." When Dharmabuddhi heard that, he consented, and went and dug with him, where he had deposited the dinars. And when they did not find any dinars in the place where they had buried them, the treacherous Dushtabuddhi said to Dharmabuddhi: "You have taken away the dinars, so give me my half." But Dharmabuddhi answered: "I have not taken them, you must have taken them." So a quarrel arose, and Dushtabuddhi hit Dharmabuddhi on the head with a stone, and dragged him into the king's court. There they both stated their case, and as the king's officers could not decide it, they were proceeding to detain them both for the trial by ordeal. Then Dushtabuddhi said to the king's officers; "The tree, at the foot of which these dinars were placed, will depose, as a witness, that they were taken away by this Dharmabuddhi. And they were exceedingly astonished, but said, "Well, we will ask it to-morrow." Then they let both Dharmabuddhi and Dushtabuddhi go, after they had given bail, and they went separately to their house.

But Dushtabuddhi told the whole matter to his father, and secretly giving him money, said; "Hide in the trunk of the tree and be my witness." His father consented, so he took him and placed him at night in the capacious trunk of the tree, and returned home. And in the morning those two brothers went with the king's officers, and asked the tree, who took away those dinars. And their father, who was hidden in the trunk of the tree, replied in a loud clear voice: "Dharmabuddhi took away the dinars." When the king's officers heard this surprising utterance, they said; "Surely Dushtabuddhi must have hidden some one in the trunk." So they introduced smoke into the trunk of the tree, which fumigated the father of Dushtabuddhi so, that he fell out of the trunk on to the ground, and died. When the king's officers saw this, they understood the whole matter, and they compelled Dushtabuddhi to give up the dinars to Dharmabuddhi. And so they cut off the hands and cut out the tongue of Dushtabuddhi, and banished him, and they honoured Dharmabuddhi as a man who deserved his name. [43]

"So you see that a deed done with an unrighteous mind is sure to bring calamity, therefore one should do it with a righteous mind, as the crane did to the snake."

Story of the Crane, the Snake and the Mungoose. [44]

Once on a time a snake came and ate the nestlings of a certain crane, as fast as they were born; that grieved the crane. So, by the advice of a crab, he went and strewed pieces of fish from the dwelling of a mungoose as far as the hole of the snake, and the mungoose came out, and following up the pieces of fish, eating as it went on, was led to the hole of the snake, which it saw and entered, and killed him and his offspring.

"So by a device one can succeed; now hear another story."

Story of the mice that ate an iron balance. [45]

Once on a time there was a merchant's son, who had spent all his father's wealth, and had only an iron balance left to him. Now the balance was made of a thousand palas of iron; and depositing it in the care of a certain merchant, he went to another land. And when, on his return, he came to that merchant to demand back his balance, the merchant said to him: "It has been eaten by mice." He repeated, "It is quite true, the iron, of which it was composed, was particularly sweet, and so the mice ate it." This he said with an outward show of sorrow, laughing in his heart. Then the merchant's son asked him to give him some food, and he, being in a good temper, consented to give him some. Then the merchant's son went to bathe, taking with him the son of that merchant, who was a mere child, and whom he persuaded to come with him by giving him a dish of amalakas. And after he had bathed, the wise merchant's son deposited the boy in the house of a friend, and returned alone to the house of that merchant. And the merchant said to him, "Where is that son of mine?" He replied, "A kite swooped down from the air and carried him off." The merchant in a rage said, "You have concealed my son," and so he took him into the king's judgment-hall; and there the merchant's son made the same statement. The officers of the court said, "This is impossible, how could a kite carry off a boy?" But the merchant's son answered; "In a country where a large balance of iron was eaten by mice, a kite might carry off an elephant, much more a boy." [46] When the officers heard that, they asked about it, out of curiosity, and made the merchant restore the balance to the owner, and he, for his part, restored the merchant's child.

"Thus, you see, persons of eminent ability attain their ends by an artifice. But you, by your reckless impetuosity, have brought our master into danger." When Damanaka heard this from Karataka, he laughed and said--"Do not talk like this! What chance is there of a lion's not being victorious in a fight with a bull? There is a considerable difference between a lion, whose body is adorned with numerous scars of wounds from the tusks of infuriated elephants, and a tame ox, whose body has been p.r.i.c.ked by the goad." While the jackals were carrying on this discussion, the lion killed the bull Sanjivaka. When he was slain, Damanaka recovered his position of minister without a rival, and remained for a long time about the person of the king of beasts in perfect happiness.

Naravahanadatta much enjoyed hearing from his prime minister Gomukha this wonderful story, which was full of statecraft, and characterized by consummate ability.

NOTE TO CHAPTER 60. THE FABLES OF PILPAY.

Wilson in his collected works, (Vol. IV, p. 139) remarks that we have in the Katha Sarit Sagara an earlier representative of the original collection of Indian fables, than even the Panchatantra, as it agrees better with the Kalilah and Dimnah than the Panchatantra does. The earliest Indian form of the Panchatantra appears to have been translated into Pehlevi in the time of the king of Persia, Khushru Naushirvans (between 531 and 572 A. D.); upon this the Arabic translation was based. It was edited by Silvestre de Sacy under the t.i.tle, "Calila et Dimna ou Fables de Bidpai," and has been translated into German by Wolff, and into English by Knatchbull. There are many recensions of the Arabic translation as of the Panchatantra. (Benfey is of opinion that originally the latter work consisted of more than five sections.) The oldest translation of the Arabic version is the Greek one by Symeon Seth, which was made about 1080, A. D. (Benfey, Einleitung, p. 8, with note). The Latin translation of Possinus was made from this. Perhaps the most important translation of all is the Hebrew translation of Rabbi Joel. It must have been made about 1250. It has never been edited, with the exception of a small fragment, and is practically represented by the Latin translation of John of Capua, made between 1263 and 1278. Benfey considers that the first German translation was made from a MS. of this. The oldest German translation has no date. The second appeared at Ulm in 1483. Another version, probably not based upon any of these, is a poetical paraphrase, the Alter Aesopus of Baldo, edited by Edelestand du Meril in his Poesies inedites du Moyen Age. There is a Spanish translation from the Arabic, perhaps through an unknown Latin version, which appeared about 1251. A portion has been published by Rodriguez De Castro. Possibly Raimond's Latin translation was based partly on this, and partly on the Latin translation of the Hebrew by John of Capua.

The Arabic version was translated into Persian by Nasr Allah in the 12th century. Upon it is based the Anvar-i-Suhaili of Husain Vaiz, which was written three centuries later. It has been translated into English by Eastwick. (Hertford 1854). (The above note is summarized from Benfey's Einleitung). See also Rhys Davids' Buddhist Birth Stories, Introduction, pp. xciii and xciv. He says that the Arabic version was made from the Syriac.

CHAPTER LXI.

Then the minister Gomukha again said to Naravahanadatta, in order to solace him while pining for Saktiyasas; "Prince, you have heard a tale of a wise person, now hear a tale about a fool."

Story of the foolish merchant who made aloes-wood into charcoal. [47]