8. Two Caravan-Leaders

Adhere to the Truth.

Jātaka 1: i. 95-106.

In times past, in the kingdom of Kāsi, in the city of Benāres, there was a king named Brahmadatta. At that time the Future Buddha was reborn in the household of a caravan-leader. In the course of time he grew to manhood, and went about trading with five hundred carts. Sometimes he went from east to west, sometimes from west to east. In the same city of Benāres there was another caravan-leader besides, a foolish, short-sighted, resourceless fellow.

At that time the Future Buddha took a valuable lot of goods from Benāres, filled five hundred carts, made preparations for the journey, and was all ready to start. Likewise that foolish caravan-leader also filled five hundred carts, made preparations for the journey, and was all ready to start.

The Future Buddha thought: “If this foolish caravan-leader goes at the same time I go, and a thousand carts travel along the road together, even the road will not be big enough. It will be difficult for the men to find firewood and water, and difficult for the oxen to find grass. Either he or I should go first.” So he had the man summoned, told him the situation, and said: “It is out of the question for both of us to go at the same time. Will you go first, or follow after?” [32]

Thought the foolish caravan-leader: “There are many advantages in my going first. There will not be a single rut in the road over which I travel; my oxen will eat grass which has not been touched; my men will have leaves for curry which have not been touched; the water will be clear; I can sell my goods at whatever price I choose to set.” So he said: “I, sir, will go first.”

As for the Future Buddha, he saw many advantages in going second, for the following considerations presented themselves to his mind: “Those who go first will make smooth the rough spots on the road; I shall go by the same road they have gone; the oxen that go first will eat the old tough grass, and my oxen will eat the fresh grass which will have sprung up in the meantime; wherever they pluck leaves, fresh leaves for curry will have sprung up and will be at the disposal of my men; in places where there is no water, they will dig wells and obtain a supply, and we shall drink water from wells dug by others. Moreover, price-fixing is like depriving men of life! If I go second, I can sell my goods for whatever price they have fixed.” Accordingly, seeing all these advantages in going second, he said: “You, sir, go first.” “Very well, sir,” said the foolish caravan-leader. So harnessing his carts, he set out, and in due course passing beyond the habitations of men, he reached the mouth of the wilderness.

(Wildernesses are of five kinds: robber-wildernesses, beast-wildernesses, waterless wildernesses, demon-wildernesses, famine-wildernesses. Where the road is infested with robbers, it is called a robber-wilderness. Where the road is infested with lions and other beasts of prey, it is called a beast-wilderness. Where there is no water for bathing or drinking, it is called a waterless wilderness. If it is infested with demons, it is called a demon-wilderness. If it lacks roots and hard food and soft food, it is called a famine-wilderness. Of these five kinds of wildernesses, this wilderness was both a waterless wilderness and a demon-wilderness.)

Therefore that caravan-leader set many huge chatties in the carts and had them filled with water before he struck into the sixty-league wilderness. Now when he reached the middle of the wilderness, the ogre who lived in the wilderness, thinking, “I will make these men throw away the water they took,” created a car to delight the heart, drawn by pure white young oxen; and surrounded by ten or twelve demons bearing in their hands bow, [33] quiver, shield, and weapon, decked with water-lilies both blue and white, head wet, garments wet, seated in that car like a very lord, the wheels of the car smeared with mud, came down that road from the opposite direction.

Both before him and behind him marched the demons who formed his retinue, heads wet, garments wet, decked with garlands of water-lilies both blue and white, carrying in their hands clusters of lotus-flowers both red and white, chewing the fibrous stalks of water-lilies, streaming with drops of water and mud.

Now caravan-leaders, when the wind is ahead, to avoid the dust, ride in front, sitting in their cars, surrounded by their attendants. When it blows from behind, they ride behind in precisely the same way. But at this time the wind was ahead; therefore that caravan-leader rode in front.

When the ogre saw him approaching, he caused his own car to turn out of the road and greeted him in a friendly manner, saying: “Where are you going?” The caravan-leader also caused his own car to turn out of the road, allowing room for the carts to pass, and standing aside, said to that ogre: “We, sir, are just approaching from Benāres. But you are approaching decked with water-lilies both blue and white, with lotus-flowers both red and white in your hands, chewing the fibrous stalks of water-lilies, smeared with mud, with drops of water streaming from you. Is it raining along the road by which you came? Are the lakes completely covered with water-lilies both blue and white, and lotus-flowers both red and white?”

When the ogre heard his words, he said: “Friend, what’s this you’re saying? Do you see that dark green streak of woods? Beyond that point the entire forest is one mass of water; it rains all the time; the hollows are full of water; in this place and in that are lakes completely covered with lotus-flowers both red and white.” As the carts passed, one after another, he inquired: “Where are you going with these carts?” “To such-and-such a country.” “What are the goods you have in this cart, – and in that?” “Such-and-such.”

“The cart that approaches last moves as though it were excessively heavy; what goods have you in that?” “There is water in that.” “In bringing water thus far, of course, you have acted wisely. But beyond this point you have no occasion to carry [34] water. Ahead of you water is abundant. Break the chatties to pieces, throw away the water, travel at ease.” And having so said, he added: “You continue your journey; we have some business that detains us.” The ogre went a little way, and when he was out of their sight, went back again to his own city of ogres.

Now that foolish caravan-leader, out of his own foolishness, took the advice of the ogre, broke the chatties to pieces, threw away all of the water, leaving not so much as a dribble, and caused the carts to move forward. Ahead there was not the slightest particle of water. For lack of water to drink the men grew weary. They traveled until sundown, and then unharnessed the carts, drew them up in a contracted circle, and tied the oxen to the wheels. There was neither water for the oxen nor gruel and boiled rice for the men. The weakened men lay down here and there and went to sleep. At midnight the ogres approached from the city of ogres, slew both oxen and men, every one, devoured their flesh, leaving only the bare bones, and having so done, departed. Thus, by reason of a single foolish caravan-leader, they all met destruction. The bones of their hands and all their other bones lay scattered about in the four directions and the four intermediate directions; five hundred carts stood as full as ever.

As for the Future Buddha, he waited for a month and a half from the day when the foolish caravan-leader set out, and then set out from the city with five hundred carts. In due course he reached the mouth of the wilderness. There he had the water-chatties filled, putting in an abundant supply of water. Then, sending a drum around the camp, he assembled his men and spoke as follows: “Without first obtaining my permission, you must not use so much as a dribble of water. In the wilderness there are poison-trees: any leaf or flower or fruit which you have not previously eaten, you must not eat without first obtaining my permission.” Having thus admonished his men, he struck into the wilderness with his five hundred carts.

When he reached the middle of the wilderness, that ogre showed himself in the path of the Future Buddha in precisely the same way as before. When the Future Buddha saw him, he knew: “In this wilderness is no water; that is what is called a waterless wilderness. Moreover this fellow is fearless, red-eyed, casts no shadow. Without a doubt this fellow caused the foolish caravan-leader[35] who went first to throw away all his water, and having thus brought weariness upon him and his company, devoured them. But, unless I am mistaken, he does not know how wise and resourceful I am.”

Accordingly the Future Buddha said to the ogre: “You go your way. We are traders. Unless we see water farther on, we shall not throw away the water we have brought. But wherever we do see water, there we shall throw away the water we have brought, and having thus lightened our carts, shall continue our journey.” The ogre went a little way, and when he was out of sight, went back again to his own city of ogres.

Now when the ogre had gone, the men asked the Future Buddha: “Noble sir, these men said: ‘Do you see that dark green streak of woods? Beyond that point it rains all the time.’ And the men who said it approached garlanded with garlands of water-lilies both blue and white, carrying clusters of lotus-flowers both red and white, chewing the fibrous stalks of water-lilies, heads wet, garments wet, with drops of water streaming from them. Let us throw away the water and go quickly with lightened carts.”

The Future Buddha, hearing their words, caused the carts to halt, assembled all of his men, and asked: “Has any one of you heard that there is either a lake or a pool in this wilderness?” “Noble sir, we have not so heard. This is what is called a waterless wilderness.” “Just now some men said: ‘Beyond that dark green streak of woods it is raining.’ Now how far does a rain-wind blow?” “A matter of a league, noble sir.” “But has a rain-wind touched the body of even a single one of you?” “It has not, noble sir.” “How far off is a cloud-head visible?” “A matter of a league, noble sir.” “But has any one of you seen even a single cloud-head?” “We have not, noble sir.” “How far off is lightning visible?” “Four or five leagues, noble sir.” “But has any one of you seen a flash of lightning?” “We have not, noble sir.” “How far off can the sound of a cloud be heard?” “A matter of one or two leagues, noble sir.” “But has any one of you heard the sound of a cloud?” “We have not, noble sir.”

“Those are not human beings; those are ogres. They must have come with the thought in their minds: ‘We will make these men throw away their water, weaken them, and devour them.’ The foolish caravan-leader who went first was not resourceful. Undoubtedly [36] he must have thrown away the water at their behest, grown weary, and been devoured; the five hundred carts must stand as full as ever. To-day we shall see them. Do not throw away even so much as a dribble of water, but drive ahead as fast as ever you can.” With these words he bade them drive forward.

Proceeding, he saw the five hundred carts as full as ever, and the bones of the men’s hands and all their other bones scattered in all directions. He had the carts unharnessed and a stockade built by drawing them into a contracted circle. He had both men and oxen given their supper betimes, and the oxen lie down in the centre of the circle formed by the men. He himself, assisted by the leaders of the force, kept watch during the three watches of the night, sword in hand, and allowed the dawn to rise upon him standing there.

On the following day, very early in the morning, he had his men do all their chores, feed the oxen, discard the weak carts, substitute strong ones, throw away goods of little value, substitute those of great value. And going to the place where he would be, he sold his goods for twice or thrice the price, and together with his entire company went back again to his own city.

9. Vedabbha and the Thieves

Cupidity is the root of ruin.

Jātaka 48: i. 252-256.

Whoever seeks advantage by wrong means. This was said by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to a disobedient monk. For to this monk the Teacher said: “Monk, not only [37] in your present state of existence are you disobedient, but in a previous state of existence also you were just as disobedient. And through this same habit of disobedience, because you disregarded the words of wise men, you were cleft in twain with a sharp sword and left lying on the road. And through your own fault, and yours alone, a thousand men met destruction.” So saying, he related the following Story of the Past:

In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, there lived in a certain little village a certain Brahman who knew a charm called the Vedabbha charm. This charm, we are told, was beyond price, of great worth. When the moon was in conjunction with a certain constellation, the Brahman would look up at the sky and recite that charm, and straightway the Rain of the Seven Jewels would rain from the sky.

At that time the Future Buddha was learning the arts and crafts in the house of that Brahman. Now one day the Brahman, accompanied by the Future Buddha, departed from his own village and set out for the kingdom of Cetiya on some business or other. Along the road, at a certain place in the forest, five hundred Despatcher-thieves were in the habit of committing outrages on travelers. They captured both the Future Buddha and the Brahman Vedabbha.

(But why were these thieves called Despatcher-thieves? We are told that whenever they captured two persons, they would despatch one of them to fetch ransom-money; therefore they were appropriately called Despatcher-thieves. For example, if they captured father and son, they would say to the father: “Fetch us ransom-money first; then you may take your son and go.” Similarly, if they captured mother and daughter, they would despatch the mother; if they captured an older and a younger brother, they would despatch the older; if they captured teacher and pupil, they would despatch the pupil.)

So it was on this occasion. Having captured the Brahman Vedabbha, they despatched the Future Buddha. The Future Buddha bowed to his teacher and said: “I will return in the course of a day or two. Have no fear. However, do as I tell you. To-day will occur the conjunction of the moon which causes the Rain of Riches. Under no circumstances, because you cannot endure your misfortune, must you recite the charm and cause the Rain [38] of Riches. If you do so, you will yourself come to ruin, and these five hundred thieves likewise.” Having thus admonished his teacher, he went for the ransom-money.

When the sun had set, the thieves bound the Brahman and laid him down. At that very moment, from the eastern quarter rose the disk of the full moon. The Brahman surveyed the constellations and reflected: “The conjunction of the moon which causes the Rain of Riches is at hand. Why should I endure misfortune? I will recite the charm, cause the Rain of Riches, give the riches to the thieves, and go where I please.”

Accordingly he addressed the thieves: “Well, thieves, for what purpose did you capture me?” “For ransom-money, noble sir.” “If you want ransom-money, quickly free me from my bonds, bathe my head, clothe me with new garments, perfume me with scents, deck me with flowers, and set me on my feet.” The thieves, hearing his words, did so. The Brahman, knowing the conjunction of the moon, recited the charm and looked up at the sky. Straightway jewels fell from the sky.

The thieves gathered up that wealth, wrapped it in folds of their upper garments, and went their way. The Brahman followed close behind them. Now a second pack of five hundred thieves captured the first pack of thieves. “For what purpose did you capture us?” inquired the first. “For ransom-money,” replied the second. “If you want money, capture this Brahman. It was he who, by looking up at the sky, caused a Rain of Riches; he is the man who gave us this wealth.”

The second pack released the first, captured the Brahman, and said to him: “Give us wealth too.” Said the Brahman: “I would gladly give you wealth. But the conjunction of the moon which causes the Rain of Riches will not occur for a year yet. If you want money, have patience, and I will cause the Rain of Riches then.” At this the thieves became enraged and said: “Oh, you rascally Brahman! You caused a Rain of Riches for others but a moment ago, but you tell us to hold our patience for another year!” So saying, they cleft the Brahman in twain with a sharp sword and left him lying on the road.

Then the second pack pursued the first pack hotly, fought with them, killed every man of them, and took the spoils. Again dividing into two packs, they fought with each other until one pack of [39] two hundred and fifty had killed the other. Continuing in this wise, they killed each other off until there were only two men left. Thus those thousand men came to ruin. Now those two men, having gotten away with the spoils by a ruse, hid the spoils in a thicket near a certain village. One sat guarding the spoils with sword in hand; the other, having procured rice, entered the village to have some porridge cooked.

“Cupidity is the root of ruin!” The man sitting by the spoils reflected: “When this fellow returns, this wealth will have to be divided into two portions. Suppose I were to strike him with the sword and kill him the very moment he returns!” So girding on his sword, he sat watching for his companion to return.

His companion reflected: “That wealth will have to be divided into two portions. Suppose I were to put poison in the porridge, let that fellow eat it, cause his death, and get the spoils for myself alone!” So when the porridge was done, he ate some himself, put poison in the rest, and then took it and went to the thicket.

The moment the second thief took that porridge out and set it down, the first thief cleft him in twain with his sword and flung his remains away in a secluded spot. Then he ate that porridge and himself died on the spot. Thus, by reason of that wealth, every one of those men came to ruin.

As for the Future Buddha, he returned in the course of a day or two with the ransom-money. Not seeing his teacher where he had left him, but seeing the spoils scattered all about, he reflected: “It must be that my teacher disregarded my words and caused the Rain of Riches; it must be that all of those men have come to ruin.” And he continued his walk along the highway.

As he proceeded, he saw his teacher lying on the highway, cleft in twain. Thought he: “My teacher disregarded my words and is dead.” Then he gathered firewood, built a pyre, cremated his teacher, and honored him with forest-flowers.

As he proceeded, he saw farther on five hundred thieves who had met destruction; farther on yet, two hundred and fifty; and so on until finally he came upon two. Thought he: “These thousand thieves have come to ruin save only two. There must be two thieves besides. They also could never have restrained themselves. Where can they be?”

As he proceeded, he saw the footprints of the two thieves who [40] had entered the thicket with the spoils. Proceeding farther, he saw first a heap of riches wrapped up in a bundle, and then one of the two thieves dead with a porridge-bowl overturned beside him. Then he knew all. “Such-and-such they must have done,” thought he. Then he reflected: “Where can that fellow be?” Making a search, he found his body also flung away in a secluded spot. Then he reflected:

“Our teacher, because he disregarded my words, through his own habit of disobedience, through his own fault, has come to ruin. Moreover through him a thousand men besides have perished. Alas! By employing wrong means, for no reason at all, seeking gain for themselves, these thieves, like our teacher, must all have come to a fearful end indeed!” And he recited the following stanza:

Whoever seeks advantage by wrong means, comes to grief.
Thieves slew Vedabbha, and all met destruction.

Thus, by the recitation of this stanza, did the Future Buddha preach the Doctrine. And the spirits of the forest made the forest ring with their applause. Then said the Future Buddha: “Just as our teacher, putting forth effort by wrong means, at the wrong time, caused the Rain of Riches, and thus himself met destruction and became the cause of others’ ruin, precisely so whoever else besides shall exert himself, seeking advantage for himself by wrong means, shall himself come to ruin and shall become the cause of others’ ruin.”

Employing right means, the Future Buddha removed that wealth to his own home, and during the remainder of the term of life allotted to him gave alms and performed the other works of merit. And when his life came to an end, he passed away, fulfilling the Path to Heaven.

Said the Teacher: “Monk, not only in your present state of existence are you disobedient, but in a previous state of existence also you were disobedient. And because of your habit of disobedience you came to a fearful end.” And having completed this parable, he identified the personages in the Birth-story as follows: “At that time the Brahman Vedabbha was the disobedient monk, but the pupil was I myself.”

10. A Buddhist Tar-Baby

Keep the Precepts.

Jātaka 55: i. 272-275.

[41] The man whose heart clings not. This parable was related by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to a monk who relaxed effort. For, addressing that monk, the Teacher asked: “Monk, is it true, as they allege, that you have relaxed effort?” “True, Exalted One!” “Monk,” said the Teacher, “in former times wise men exerted themselves on an occasion when it was necessary for them to exert themselves, and by so doing attained the glory of dominion.” So saying, he related the following Story of the Past:

In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha received a new conception in the womb of the chief consort of that king. On the day when he received his name, his parents, after delighting eight hundred Brahmans with all of the Pleasures of Sense, inquired regarding the signs. The Brahmans, skilled in the discernment of signs as they were, seeing that he possessed the signs of a Great Man, made the following prediction: “Great king, the prince possesses merit; upon your decease he will attain the sovereignty; he will become the foremost man in the Land of the Rose-apple, and will be celebrated, will be renowned, for his deeds with the five weapons.” His parents, hearing these words of the Brahmans, in selecting a name for the prince, gave him the name Prince Five-weapons.

Now when he reached the age of discretion, when he was about sixteen years of age, the king addressed him. “Son,” said the king, “acquire the arts and crafts.” “Under what teacher shall I acquire them, your majesty?” “Son, go acquire them under a world-renowned teacher who resides in the city of Takkasilā in the kingdom of Gandhāra; here is the fee for you to give to this teacher.” So saying, he gave him a thousand pieces of money and sent him on his way.

The prince went there and acquired the arts and crafts. Having so done, he took the five weapons which his teacher gave him, bowed to his teacher, departed from the city of Takkasilā, and girded with the five weapons, struck into the road leading to Benāres. On the way he came to a certain forest infested by an [42] ogre named Sticky-hair. Now at the mouth of the forest men who saw him tried to dissuade him from entering, saying: “Sir prince, do not enter this forest; an ogre named Sticky-hair lives here; he kills every man he sees.”

The Future Buddha, confident of himself, fearless as a maned lion, entered the forest just the same. When he reached the heart of that forest, that ogre showed himself to the Future Buddha. He had increased his stature to the height of a palm-tree; he had created for himself a head as big as a summer-house with bell-shaped pinnacle, eyes as big as alms-bowls, two tusks as big as giant bulbs or buds; he had the beak of a hawk; his belly was covered with blotches; his hands and feet were dark green.

Having shown himself to the Future Buddha, he said: “Where are you going? halt! you are my prey!” But the Future Buddha said to him: “Ogre, I knew what I was about when I entered this forest. You would do well to be careful about attacking me, for with an arrow steeped in poison will I pierce your flesh and fell you on the spot!” Having thus threatened him, the Future Buddha fitted to his bow an arrow steeped in deadly poison and let fly.

It stuck right to the ogre’s hair. Then he let fly, one after another, fifty arrows. All stuck right to the ogre’s hair. The ogre shook off every one of those arrows, letting them fall right at his feet, and approached the Future Buddha. The Future Buddha threatened him once more, and drawing his sword, smote him with it. The sword, thirty-three inches long, stuck right to the ogre’s hair. Then he hit him with a spear. That also stuck right to his hair. Perceiving that the spear had stuck, he smote him with a club. That also stuck right to his hair.

Perceiving that the club had stuck, he said: “Master ogre, you have never heard of me before. I am Prince Five-weapons. When I entered this forest infested by you, I took no account of bows and such-like weapons; when I entered this forest, I took account only of myself. Now I am going to beat you and pound you into powder and dust!” Having thus made known his determination, with a yell he struck the ogre with his right hand. His hand stuck right to the ogre’s hair. He struck him with his left hand. That also stuck. He struck him with his right foot. That also stuck. He struck him with his left foot. That also stuck. Thought he: “I will beat you with my head and pound you into powder and [43] dust!” He struck him with his head. That also stuck right to the ogre’s hair.

The Future Buddha, snared five times, stuck fast in five places, dangled from the ogre’s body. But for all that, he was unafraid, undaunted. As for the ogre, he thought: “This is some lion of a man, some man of noble birth, – no mere man! For although he has been caught by an ogre like me, he appears neither to tremble nor to quake! In all the time I have harried this road, I have never seen a single man to match him! Why, pray, is he not afraid?” Not daring to eat him, he asked: “Youth, why are you not afraid? why are you not terrified with the fear of death?”

“Ogre, why should I be afraid? for in one state of existence one death is absolutely certain. What’s more, I have in my belly a thunderbolt for weapon. If you eat me, you will not be able to digest that weapon. It will tear your insides into tatters and fragments and will kill you. In that case we’ll both perish. That’s why I’m not afraid!” (In these terms, we are told, the Future Buddha referred to the Weapon of Knowledge within himself.)

Hearing this, the ogre thought: “What this youth says is true, every word of it. From the body of this lion of a man, my stomach would not be able to digest a fragment of flesh even so small as a kidney bean. I’ll let him go!” Terrified with the fear of death, he let the Future Buddha go, saying: “Youth, you’re a lion of a man! I’ll not eat your flesh. Do you, this moment released from my hand, even as the moon is released from the Jaws of Rāhu, go gladden the circle of your kinsfolk and well-wishers!”

Then said the Future Buddha to the ogre: “Ogre, I’ll go presently. But you, because in a former state of existence also you wrought evil, have been reborn as an ogre, cruel, red-handed, feeding on the flesh and blood of others. If in this state of existence also, so long as you live, you do evil deeds, you will go from darkness to darkness. But from the moment you saw me, it has been impossible for you to do evil deeds. Such a crime as taking the life of living beings means rebirth in hell, in the animal kingdom, in the region of the fathers, in the world of the fallen deities; should you be reborn in the world of men, you will live but a short time and soon pass away.”

In such wise did the Future Buddha recite the disadvantages of doing deeds contrary to the Precepts, and the advantages of [43] keeping the Five Precepts. With one reason after another he terrified the ogre, preached the Doctrine to him, subdued him, made him self-denying. Having established him in the Five Precepts, he bade him practice them. Then he transformed him into a spirit entitled to receive offerings in the forest, and having admonished him to be heedful, departed from the forest. At the mouth of the forest he told his story to human beings. Then, girded with the five weapons, he went to Benāres and visited his mother and father. After a time becoming established in the kingdom, he ruled righteously, gave alms and performed the other works of merit, and passed away according to his deeds.

The Teacher, having related this parable, uttered, as Supreme Buddha, the following stanza:

The man whose heart clings not,
Whose mind clings not,
Who cultivates the Exalted States
To the attainment of Nibbāna,
Shall, in due course, reach
The Destruction of all Bonds.

11. Two Dicers

Take care!

Jātaka 91: i. 379-380.

On a certain occasion the Exalted One reproved the monks for handling their property carelessly. Said he: “Monks, careless handling of property is like careless handling of deadly poison. For men of old, through carelessness, not knowing what was the matter, ate poison, and as a result experienced great suffering.” So saying, he related the following Story of the Past:

In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha was reborn in a household of great wealth. When he reached manhood, he became a dicer. Now a second dicer used to play with the Future Buddha, and he was a cheat. So long as he was winning, he would not break the play-ring; but when he lost, he would put a die in his mouth, say, “A die is lost!” break the play-ring, and make off.

The Future Buddha, knowing the reason for this, said: “Let be! [45] I shall find some way of dealing with him.” So taking the dice to his own home, he painted them with deadly poison and let them dry thoroughly. Then, taking them with him, he went to the second dicer’s and said: “Come, sir, let us play at dice.” “Yes, sir,” said the second dicer, and marked out the play-ring.

As the second dicer played with the Future Buddha, he lost, and put a die in his mouth. Now the Future Buddha, seeing him do this, said: “Just swallow! Later you will know what that is.” And to rebuke him he recited the following stanza:

Smeared with the strongest poison
Was the die the man swallowed, but knew it not.
Swallow, O swallow, wicked dicer!
Later it will taste bitter to you.

Even as the Future Buddha spoke, he swooned from the effect of the poison, rolled his eyes, dropped his shoulders, and fell. Said the Future Buddha: “Now I must grant him his life.” So giving him an emetic containing herbs, he made him vomit. Then, giving him ghee, honey, and sugar to eat, he made him well. Finally he admonished him: “Never do such a thing again.” And having performed almsgiving and the other works of merit, the Future Buddha passed away according to his deeds.

When the Teacher had completed this parable, he said: “Monks, careless handling of property is like careless handling of deadly poison.” Then he identified the personages in the Birth-story as follows: “At that time the wise dicer was I myself.”

12. Brahmadatta and Mallika

Overcome evil with good.

Jātaka 151: ii. 1-5.

On a certain occasion King Pasenadi Kosala, after deciding litigations in the Hall of Justice, came hastily to pay his respects to the Teacher. Said the Teacher: “Great king, to decide litigations righteously and justly is a good thing. It is the Path to Heaven. But this is no remark able thing, that you, receiving admonition from an Omniscient Buddha like me, should decide litigations righteously and justly. This alone is remarkable, that kings of old, listening to the words of men who were wise but not omniscient, decided litigations righteously and justly, avoided the Four Evil Courses, kept inviolate the Ten Royal Virtues, [46] ruled justly, and departed fulfilling the Path to Heaven.” Then, in response to a request of the king, he related the following Story of the Past:

In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha received a new conception in the womb of his chief con sort. The queen received the treatment customary for the protection of an unborn child, and the Future Buddha passed out of the womb of his mother in safety. On his name-day he received the name Prince Brahmadatta. In due time he grew up. When he was sixteen years old, he went to Takkasilā, acquired proficiency in all the arts and crafts, and on the death of his father, became established in the kingdom.

He ruled righteously and justly. He avoided the Four Evil Courses in rendering judgments. Since he himself ruled so righteously, the ministers of justice also transacted their affairs with an eye to righteousness alone. Since the ministers of justice transacted their affairs righteously, there were no men who brought dishonest litigations. For lack of them, hubbub over litigations in the king’s courtyard ceased. Every day ministers of justice took their seats in the place of litigation, but seeing no one come for litigation, departed. The place of litigation became abandoned.

The Future Buddha thought: “Since I have been ruling righteously, no men at all have come for litigation, the hubbub has ceased, the place of litigation has become abandoned. The time has come for me to find out whether I have any fault. If I know, ‘This, for example, is a fault in me,’ I will get rid of it and have to do with good qualities only.” From that time on he mingled with indoor-folk and tested them with the question, “Is there anybody who says I have a fault?” He met with no one who said he had a fault, but heard mentioned only his own good qualities. “It may be because these people are afraid of me that they refrain from mentioning faults in me and speak only of my good qualities.”

He tested the outdoor-folk, but among them also met no one. He tested those who dwelt within the city. He took his stand in the settlements at the four gates and tested those who dwelt without the city. Among them also he met with no one who said [47] he had a fault, but heard mentioned only his good qualities. “I will test the countryside,” thought he. So turning over the kingdom to his ministers, he mounted his chariot, departed from the city in disguise, accompanied only by his charioteer, and went as far as the frontier testing the countryside. Meeting with no one who said he had a fault, but hearing mentioned only his good qualities, he turned back from the frontier and started back for the city on the highway.

Now at this time a king of Kosala named Mallika, a righteous ruler, was also trying to find out whether he had any faults. Meeting with no one among either indoor-folk or others who said he had a fault, but hearing mentioned only his own good qualities, he went to that region testing the countryside. Both kings met face to face in a single wagon-track leading through a swamp. There was no room for either chariot to turn out.

Now King Mallika’s charioteer said to the charioteer of the king of Benāres: “Get your chariot out of the way!” Said the charioteer of the king of Benāres: “Master charioteer, get your chariot out of the way! In this chariot sits the lord of the realm of Benāres, the mighty king Brahmadatta!” Retorted King Mallika’s charioteer: “Master charioteer, in this chariot sits the lord of the realm of Kosala, the mighty king Mallika! Get your chariot out of the way! Make room for the chariot of our king!” Thought the charioteer of the king of Benāres: “He also is every inch a king, to be sure. What’s to be done?” He came to the conclusion: “This is the way: I will find out the ages of the two kings and cause the chariot of the younger to turn out and make room for the chariot of the older.”

Accordingly the charioteer of the king of Benāres asked the other charioteer the age of the king of Kosala. Comparing the ages of the two kings, he discovered that both kings were of exactly the same age. He then made inquiry regarding the extent of his kingdom, his army, his wealth, his reputation, and his position in respect of caste, race, and family. He discovered: “Both are lords of kingdoms three hundred leagues in extent; they are equals as regards army, wealth, and reputation; they are in the same position in respect of caste, race, and family.” Then he thought: “I will make room for that king who is more advanced [48] in the practice of morality.” Accordingly the charioteer of the king of Benāres asked the charioteer of the king of Kosala: “What is your king’s practice of morality like?” The charioteer of the king of Kosala replied: “Such-and-such is our king’s practice of morality.” And proclaiming, as though they were good qualities, only the faults of his own king, he uttered the first stanza:

Firmness he flings in the face of the firm;
Mallika overcomes kindly with kindness,
Good with good, evil with evil.
Such is this king. Charioteer, turn out of the road.

But the charioteer of the king of Benāres said to him: “What! Are these the good qualities of your own king which you have just recited?” “Yes.” “Well! If these are his good qualities, what must his faults be like? Now then, listen.” So saying, the charioteer of the king of Benāres uttered the second stanza:

He overcomes anger with kindness,
He overcomes evil with good,
The niggard with gifts, the liar with truth.
Such is this king. Charioteer, turn out of the road.

Hearing these words, King Mallika and his charioteer both got down from the chariot, unharnessed the horses, removed the chariot, and gave the road to the king of Benāres.

The king of Benāres admonished King Mallika, saying: “Thus and so must one do.” Having so said, he went to Benāres, gave alms and performed the other works of merit, and when his term of life was come to an end, fulfilled the Path to Heaven.

As for King Mallika, he accepted the admonition of the king of Benāres, tested the countryside, met with no one who said he had a fault, and went to his own city. Having given alms and having performed the other works of merit, when his term of life was come to an end, he also fulfilled the Path to Heaven.

When the Teacher, for the purpose of admonishing the king of Kosala, had related this parable, he identified the personages in the Birth-story as follows: “At that time King Mallika’s charioteer was Moggallāna, the king was Ānanda, the charioteer of the king of Benāres was Sāriputta, but the king was I myself.”

13. King Dadhivāhana

Evil communications corrupt good manners.

Jātaka 186: ii. 101-106.

[49] On a certain occasion the Teacher addressed the monks as follows: “Monks, contact with the corrupt is a bad thing, an injurious thing. Indeed, why should it be necessary to discuss the injurious effect on human beings of contact with the corrupt, when in times past even a senseless mango tree, with flavor as sweet as the flavor of celestial fruit, through contact with sour, unpalatable nimbs, turned sour and bitter?

Part 1. Gem, hatchet, drum, and bowl.

In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, four Brahman brothers in the kingdom of Kāsi adopted the life of ascetics, and building a row of leaf-huts in the Himālaya region, took up their abode there. The eldest of the four brothers died and was reborn as Sakka. Knowing who he had been, he went from time to time, every seven or eight days, and ministered to his former brothers.

One day he saluted the eldest ascetic, sat down on one side, and asked: “Reverend Sir, is there anything you need?” The ascetic, who was suffering from jaundice, said: “I need fire.” Sakka gave him a little hatchet. Said the ascetic: “Who will take this and fetch me wood?” Then Sakka said to him: “When, Reverend Sir, you need wood, just rub this hatchet with your hand and say: ‘Please fetch me wood and make me a fire.’ And the hatchet will fetch wood, make a fire, and turn it over to you.”

Having given him the little hatchet, Sakka went to the second ascetic and asked: “Reverend Sir, what do you need?” Past his leaf-hut ran an elephant-track. Since the elephants bothered him, he said: “The elephants annoy me; drive them away.” Sakka presented a drum to him, saying, “Reverend Sir, if you beat this side, your enemies will flee; if you beat that, they will become kindly disposed and will surround you with a fourfold army.”

Having given him the drum, Sakka went to the youngest ascetic and asked: “Reverend Sir, what do you want?” He also was afflicted with jaundice; therefore he said: “I want curds.” Sakka gave him a bowl of curds, saying: “If you invert this and make a wish, the curds will turn into a mighty river, will set flowing a [50] mighty flood, and will even be able to get and give you a kingdom.” So saying, he went his way.

From that time on the little hatchet made fire for the eldest brother; when the second brother beat the drum, the elephants fled; the youngest brother enjoyed his curds.

At that time a boar, rooting among the ruins of a village, caught sight of a gem endowed with magical power. He bit the gem, and by its magical power rose into the air. Seeing a little island in mid-ocean, he thought: “There now is the place for me to live.” So he descended and made his home in a pleasant place under a fig tree.

One day the boar lay down at the foot of that tree, placed the gem in front of him, and fell asleep.

Now a certain man who lived in the kingdom of Kāsi, driven from home by his mother and father with the remark, “He’s no good to us,” went to a certain seaport, hired himself out to mariners, and embarked on a ship. In mid-ocean the ship sprang a leak, and he floated to that island on a plank. While seeking wild fruits he saw that boar. Creeping up, he seized the gem. By its magical power he rose into the air. Seating himself on the fig tree, he thought: “This boar, become an air-voyager by the magical power of this gem, lives here, I suppose. But I must not go back without first of all killing him and eating his flesh.” He broke off a twig and let it fall on the boar’s head. The boar woke up, but not seeing the gem, ran this way and that, all of a tremble. The man sitting in the tree laughed. The boar looked, and seeing him, ran his head against the tree, and died then and there. The man came down, made a fire, and cooked the boar’s flesh and ate it. Then he rose into the air and passed over the tops of the Himālayas.

Seeing a region of hermitages, he descended at the hermitage of the eldest ascetic. He lived there for two or three days, per formed the major and minor duties for the ascetic, and saw the magical power of the little hatchet. “This I must get,” thought he. Accordingly, after demonstrating to the ascetic the magical power of the gem, he said: “Reverend Sir, take this gem and give me the little hatchet.” The ascetic, having a desire to travel through the air, took the gem and gave him the little hatchet.

The man took the little hatchet and went a short distance. [51]

Then he rubbed the little hatchet and said: “Little hatchet, chop off the ascetic’s head and bring me the gem.” The little hatchet went and chopped off the ascetic’s head and brought him the gem. The man put the little hatchet in a secret place, and then went to the second ascetic and lived with him for a few days. Seeing the magical power of the drum, he gave the second ascetic the gem, took the drum, and in the same way as before caused his head also to be cut off. Then he approached the youngest ascetic. Seeing the magical power of the bowl of curds, he gave the youngest ascetic the gem, took the bowl of curds, and in the same way as before caused his head to be cut off.

Then he took the gem and the little hatchet and the drum and the bowl of curds, and rose into the air. Halting not far from Benāres, he sent, by the hand of a certain man, the following message to the king of Benāres: “Give me battle or the kingdom!” As soon as the king heard the message, he said: “Let’s catch the bandit;” and sallied forth. The man beat the proper side of the drum, and a fourfold army surrounded him. Perceiving that the king had deployed his forces, he turned the bowl of curds loose. A mighty river began to flow, and the multitude sank down in the curds and were unable to extricate themselves. Then he rubbed the little hatchet and said: “Bring me the king’s head.” The little hatchet went and brought the king’s head and laid it at his feet. Not a single soldier had the power to lift a weapon. Accompanied by a mighty force, the man entered the city and caused himself to be sprinkled king. Having become king under the name Dadhivāhana, he ruled with righteousness.

Part 2. Corrupt fruit from a good tree.

One day, while he was amusing himself in the mighty river, in an enclosure formed by a net, there floated up and lodged in the net a single mango fruit fit for the gods. When they lifted the net they saw it and gave it to the king. It was of large size, as big as a water-pot, perfectly round, and of a golden color. The king asked his foresters: “What is that the fruit of?” “The fruit of a mango tree.” Having eaten it, he caused the stone to be planted in his own garden, and to be sprinkled with milk and water. The tree sprouted, and in the third year bore fruit.

Great was the honor rendered to the mango. They sprinkled it [52] with milk and water, they made marks of the spread hand with scented ointment on it, they festooned it with wreaths and ropes of flowers, they burned lamps with perfumed oil before it, and round about it they hung a curtain of fine cloth.

The fruit was sweet and of a golden color. When King Dadhivāhana sent the fruit of the mango to other kings, he pierced with a maṇḍu thorn the spot where the sprout starts, for fear a tree might sprout from the stone. When, after eating the mango fruit, they planted the stone, nothing happened. “What, pray, can be the cause of this?” they inquired, and discovered the cause.

Now a certain king summoned his gardener and asked: “Can you spoil the flavor of King Dadhivāhana’s mango fruit and make it bitter?” “Yes, your majesty.” “Very well, go.” So saying, he gave him a thousand pieces of money and sent him off. The gardener went to Benāres, caused the king to be informed that a gardener had arrived, managed to have himself summoned by the king, and entering the palace, made obeisance to the king. “Are you the gardener?” asked the king. “Yes, your majesty,” said the gardener, and described his own marvelous powers. Said the king: “Go, assist our gardener.”

From that time on the two men cared for the garden. The newly arrived gardener caused flowers to blossom out of season and fruits to grow out of season, and made the garden a charming place. The king, pleased with the new gardener, dismissed the old gardener, and gave the new gardener exclusive charge of the garden. The new gardener, realizing that the garden was in his own hands, planted nimbs and pot-herbs and creepers all around the mango tree.

In the course of time the nimbs grew up. Roots with roots, branches with branches, were in contact, entangled, intertwined. Merely through this contact with the sour, unpalatable nimbs, the sweet fruit of the mango turned bitter, and its flavor became like the flavor of the leaves of the nimbs. The gardener, knowing that the fruit of the mango had turned bitter, fled.

Dadhivāhana went to the garden and ate a mango fruit. As soon as he put the mango into his mouth, perceiving that the juice tasted like the vile juice of the nimb, he was unable to swallow it, and coughing it up, spat it out. Now at that time the Future Buddha was his counsellor in temporal and spiritual matters. [53]

The king addressed the Future Buddha: “Wise man, this tree is just as well cared for now as it was of old. But in spite of this, its fruit has turned bitter. What, pray, is the reason?” And by way of inquiry he uttered the first stanza:

Color, fragrance, flavor, had this mango before.
Receiving the same honor, why has the mango bitter fruit?

Then the Future Buddha told him the reason by uttering the second stanza:

Your mango, Dadhivāhana, is surrounded with nimbs,
Root in contact with root, branches entwine about branches.
Through contact with the bad, therefore your mango has bitter fruit.

The king, hearing his words, had every one of the nimbs and pot-herbs chopped down, the roots pulled up, the sour earth round about removed, sweet earth put in its place, and the mango fed with milk and water, sweetened water, and perfumed water. Through contact with sweet juices the mango became perfectly sweet again. The king gave the regular gardener sole charge of the garden, and after living out his allotted term of life, passed away according to his deeds.

14. Antelope, Woodpecker, Tortoise, and Hunter

In union there is strength.

Jātaka 206: ii. 152-155.

On a certain occasion the Buddha related the following story:

In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha was an antelope and made his home in a certain thicket in a forest, not far from a certain lake. Not far from that same lake, on the tip of a certain tree, perched a woodpecker. More over in the lake a tortoise made his home. Thus did those three live together as friends, kindly affectionate one towards another. Now a certain hunter, on his way through the forest, seeing the tracks of the Future Buddha at the place where the animals went to drink, set a trap, resembling an iron foot-chain, only made of leathern strips, and went his way. In the very first watch of the night the Future Buddha, coming to drink of the water, became entangled in the trap and cried the cry of a captured animal. [54]

When he made that sound, from the tip of the tree came the woodpecker and out of the water came the tortoise. And they took counsel together, saying: “What’s to be done now?” Then said the woodpecker, addressing the tortoise: “Master, you have teeth; you saw this trap in two. I’ll go and manage things in such a way that that hunter shan’t come near. Thus, if the two of us do our very best, our friend will save his life.” And explaining this matter, he uttered the first stanza:

Come, tortoise! use your teeth, and cut the leathern trap!
I’ll manage things in such a way the hunter shall not come!

The tortoise began to chew the strips of leather. The wood pecker went to the village where the hunter lived. At the first signs of dawn, the hunter took his knife and started to leave the house. The bird, observing that he was leaving the house, shrieked, flapped his wings, and struck him in the face just as he was corning out of the front door. Thought the hunter: “I have been struck by a bird of evil omen.” So he went back, lay down for a little while, and then got up again and took his knife.

The bird knew: “This fellow first came out of the front door. This time he will come out of the back door.” So he went and perched back of the house. As for the hunter, he thought: “When I went out of the front door, I saw a bird of evil omen. This time I will go out of the back door.” So he went out of the back door. Again the bird shrieked, flew at him, and struck him in the face. The hunter, struck once again by that bird of evil omen, made up his mind: “That bird will not permit me to go out.” So he went back, lay down until the dawn came up, and when it was dawn, took his knife and went out. The bird went quickly and told the Future Buddha: “The hunter is coming!”

At that moment the tortoise had chewed all of the strips except just one strap. But his teeth had got to the point where they were ready to drop, and his jaws were smeared with blood. The Future Buddha saw the hunter, knife in hand, coming on with lightning speed. Cutting that strap, he entered the wood. The bird perched on the tip of the tree. But the tortoise was so weak that he continued to lie right there. The hunter threw the tortoise into a sack and hung the sack on some stump or other.

The Future Buddha came back, looked about, and perceived [55] that the tortoise had been taken captive. “I will grant my friend the boon of life!” he resolved. So feigning weakness, he showed himself to the hunter. “That antelope must be very weak,” thought the hunter: “I will kill him.” And knife in hand, he started after him. The Future Buddha, keeping not too far away and not too near, led him on and entered the forest. When he thought he had gone far enough, he disguised his tracks, went by another path with the speed of the wind, lifted the sack on his horn, flung it on the ground, broke it open, and let out the tortoise. As for the woodpecker, he came down from the tree.

The Future Buddha, admonishing his two friends, said: “I, through you, have obtained my life. You have done for me what a friend should do for a friend. At any moment the hunter may come and catch you. Therefore, Master woodpecker, do you take your fledglings and go elsewhere; and do you, Master tortoise, enter the water.” They did so.

The Teacher, as Supreme Buddha, uttered the second stanza:

The tortoise entered the water,
The antelope entered the wood,
The woodpecker from that dangerous path
Took his fledglings far away.

When the hunter returned to that spot and saw nothing at all, he took the tattered sack and went to his own house in deep dejection. As for those three friends, they lived all their lives long with never a break in their friendly relations, and then passed away according to their deeds.

When the Teacher had related this parable, he identified the personages in the Birth-story as follows: “At that time the hunter was Devadatta, the woodpecker was Sāriputta, the tortoise was Moggallāna, but the antelope was I myself.”

15. A Buddhist Henny-Penny

Much ado about nothing.

Jātaka 322: in. 74-78.

On a certain occasion the Teacher, referring to the self-mortification of the Hindu ascetics, said to the monks: “Monks, there is no value, no merit, in their self-mortification. It is like the ‘rat-a-tat’ the little [56] hare heard.” Said the monks: “We do not understand what you mean by saying that it is like the ‘rat-a-tat’ the little hare heard. Tell us about it. Reverend Sir.” So in response to their request the Teacher related the following Story of the Past:

In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha was reborn as a lion, and when he grew up, lived in a forest. At that time, near the Western Ocean, grew a grove of cocoanut trees intermingled with Vilva trees. There, at the foot of a Vilva tree, under a cocoanut sapling, lived a little hare. One day, returning with food, he lay down under a cocoanut leaf and thought: “If this earth should collapse, what would ever become of me?”

At that very instant a Vilva fruit fell on top of the cocoanut leaf. At the sound of it the little hare thought: “This earth is certainly collapsing!” And springing to his feet, back he ran, without so much as taking a look. As he was running away as fast as he could in fear of death, another little hare saw him and asked: “Why, pray, are you running away in such a fright?” “Oh, don’t ask me!” And he kept right on running, in spite of the fact that the other little hare kept asking: “Oh! what is it? Oh! what is it?” The other little hare turned around, and without so much as taking a look, said: “The earth is collapsing here!” He also ran away, following the first.

In the same way a third little hare saw the second, and a fourth the third, until finally there were a hundred thousand little hares running away together. A deer saw them, – also a boar, an elk, a buffalo, an ox, a rhinoceros, a tiger, a lion, and an elephant. Seeing, each asked: “What’s this?” “The earth is collapsing here!” Each ran away. Thus, in the course of time, there was an army of animals a league in size.

At that time the Future Buddha, seeing that army running away, asked: “What’s this?” “The earth is collapsing here!” When the Future Buddha heard this, he thought: “No such thing! The earth is collapsing nowhere! It must certainly be that they failed to understand something they heard. But if I do not put forth effort, they will all perish. I will grant them their lives.”

With the speed of a lion he preceded them to the foot of a mountain and thrice roared the roar of a lion. Terrified with fear of the lion, they turned around and stood all huddled together. [57]

The lion made his way in among them and asked: “Why are you running away?” “The earth is collapsing!” “Who saw it collapsing?” “The elephants know.” He asked the elephants. Said the elephants: “We don’t know; the lions know.” Said the lions: “We don’t know; the tigers know.” The tigers: “The rhinoceroses know.” The rhinoceroses: “The oxen know.” The oxen: “The buffaloes.” The buffaloes: “The elks.” The elks: “The boars.” The boars: “The deer.” The deer: “We don’t know; the little hares know.”

When the little hares were asked, they pointed out that little hare and said: “He’s the one that told us.” So the lion asked the little hare: “Friend, is it true, as you say, that the earth is collapsing?” “Yes, master, I saw it.” “Where were you living when you saw it?” asked the lion. “Near the Western Ocean, in a grove of cocoanut trees mingled with Vilva trees. For there, at the foot of a Vilva tree, under a cocoanut sapling, beneath a cocoanut leaf, I lay and thought: ‘If the earth collapses, where shall I go?’ That very instant I heard the sound of the earth collapsing. So I ran away.”

The lion thought: “Evidently a Vilva fruit fell on top of that cocoanut leaf and made a ‘rat-a-tat,’ and this hare here, hearing that sound, came to the conclusion: ‘The earth is collapsing!’ I will find out for a fact.” So the lion, taking the little hare with him, reassured the throng, saying: “I am going to find out for a fact whether or not the earth collapsed at the spot where the little hare saw what he saw; having so done, I will return. Until I return, all of you remain right here.”

So taking the little hare on his back, he sprang forward with the speed of a lion. And setting the little hare down in the cocoa nut grove, he said: “Come, show me the spot where you saw what you saw.” “I don’t dare, master.” “Come, don’t be afraid.” The little hare, not daring to approach the Vilva tree, stood no great distance off and said: “That, master, is the spot where it went ‘rat-a-tat.’ ”So saying, he uttered the first stanza:

“Rat-a-tat” it went, – I wish you luck, –
In the region where I dwell.
But as for me, I do not know
What made that “rat-a-tat.” [58]

When the little hare said this, the lion went to the foot of the Vilva tree, looked at the spot beneath the cocoanut leaf where the little hare had lain, and observed that a Vilva fruit had fallen on top of the cocoanut leaf. And knowing for a fact that the earth had not collapsed, he took the little hare on his back, went quickly, with the speed of a lion, to the assemblage of animals, informed them of all the facts, reassured the throng of animals by saying, “Fear not,” and released the little hare.

For if, at that time, the Future Buddha had not come to the rescue, they would all have run down into the sea and perished. It was through the Future Buddha that they obtained their lives.

(These three stanzas were uttered by the Supremely Enlightened One.)

When the Teacher had related this parable, he identified the personages in the Birth-story as follows: “At that time the lion was I myself.”

 

last updated: March 2016