Showing posts with label author: Cowell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label author: Cowell. Show all posts

Saturday, June 24, 2017

0006. How the Turtle Saved His Own Life (Bhūridatta)

From The Jataka Volume 6 translated by E. B. Cowell and W. H. D. Rouse, online at: Sacred Texts Archive.

Notes. This is only part of the complete jataka, which is very long (over 15,000 words in the Cowell and Rouse translation); I have excerpted this part as a freestanding story, and you can find it also a freestanding story in Ellen Babbitt's book of jataka tales for children: How the Turtle Saved His Own Life. This story is of special interest because of the great parallel it offers to the Brer Rabbit story in which Brer Rabbit escapes to his beloved briar patch: The Tar-Baby. The tar-baby part of the story also has an Indian parallel, as you will see there.

Summary: A quick-thinking turtle takes advantage of the foolish humans in order to get back home.

Read the story below:




HOW THE TURTLE SAVED HIS OWN LIFE




The tortoise in the lake

When the king came to Benares he entered the city which was all adorned, and he seated himself on the terrace, surrounded by sixteen thousand dancing girls and his ministers and other officers; and having held a great drinking feast for seven days, he caused a lake to be prepared for his sons, where they sported continually.

But one day when the water was let into the lake, a tortoise entered, and not seeing any way of exit it floated on the surface of the water; and while the lads were playing about, it rose out of the water and putting out its head looked at them and then sank down in the water.

When they saw it they were frightened and ran to their father, and said to him, "O father, a yakkha [yaksha, nature-demon] has frightened us in the lake."

The king ordered some men to go and seize it, and they threw a net and caught the tortoise and shewed it to the king.

When the princes saw it, they cried out, "O father, it is a demon."

The debate about the tortoise

The king through love of his sons was angry with the tortoise, and ordered the attendants to punish it.

Some said, "It is an enemy to the king, it should be pounded to powder with a pestle and mortar," others said, "Let us cook it three times over and eat it," others, "Bake it upon hot coals," others, "It must be baked in a jar"; but one minister who was afraid of the water, said, "It should be thrown into the whirlpool of the Yamuna, it will be utterly destroyed there, there is no punishment for it like that."

The tortoise, as he heard his words, thrust out his head and said, "Friend, what sin have I committed that you are discussing such a punishment for me? The other punishments I can bear, but this last is excessively cruel, do not even mention it."

When the king heard him, he said, "This is the one to carry into action," so he ordered him to be thrown into the whirlpool of the Yamuna.

[which, of course, is just what the tortoise wanted, and you can read about his further adventures in the rest of the jataka here: Bhūridatta-Jātaka]


Sunday, June 18, 2017

0017. The Woman with the King's Signet-Ring (Kaṭṭhahāri)

From The Jataka Volume 1 translated by Robert Chalmers, online at: Sacred Texts Archive. (The subheadings and English title are my addition, and I have not included the frame tale.)

NotesThere are many versions of the legend of Shakuntala, including one found in the Mahabharata, where Shakuntala's son is the "Bharata" of the epic's title. Find out more at Wikipedia.

Summary: This is a version of the legend of Shakuntala, the woman who gave birth to the king's son in the forest and later presented him to his father.

Read the story below:



THE WOMAN WITH THE KING'S SIGNET-RING




The king and his signet-ring

Once on a time in Benares Brahmadatta the king, having gone in great state to his pleasaunce, was roaming about looking for fruits and flowers when he came on a woman who was merrily singing away as she picked up sticks in the grove. Falling in love at first sight, the king became intimate with her, and the Bodhisatta was conceived then and there.

Feeling as heavy within as though weighed down with the bolt of Indra, the woman knew that she would become a mother, and told the king so. He gave her the signet-ring from his finger and dismissed her with these-words: "If it be a girl, spend this ring on her nurture; but if it be a boy, bring ring and child to me."

When the woman's time was come, she bore the Bodhisatta.

The boy called "No-Father"

And when he could run about and was playing in the playground, a cry would arise, "No-Father has hit me!" Hearing this, the Bodhisatta ran away to his mother and asked who his father was.

"You are the son of the King of Benares, my boy."

"What proof of this is there, mother?"

"My son, the king on leaving me gave me this signet-ring and said, 'If it be a girl, spend this ring on her nurture; but if it be a boy, bring ring and child to me.'"

"Why then don't you take me to my father, mother?"

Seeing that the boy's mind was made up, she took him to the gate of the palace, and bade their coming be announced to the king.

The woman confronts the king

Being summoned in, she entered and bowing before his majesty said, "This is your son, sire."

The king knew well enough that this was the truth, but shame before all his court made him reply, "He is no son of mine."

"But here is your signet-ring, sire; you will recognise that."

"Nor is this my signet-ring."

Then said the woman, "Sire, I have now no witness to prove my words, except to appeal to truth. Wherefore, if you be the father of my child, I pray that he may stay in mid-air; but if not, may he fall to earth and be killed." So saying, she seized the Bodhisatta by the foot and threw him up into the air.

The miracle

Seated cross-legged in mid-air, the Bodhisatta in sweet tones repeated this stanza to his father, declaring the truth:

Your son am I, great monarch; rear me, Sire!
The king rears others, but much more his child.

Hearing the Bodhisatta thus teach the truth to him from mid-air, the king stretched out his hands and cried, "Come to me, my boy! None, none but me shall rear and nurture you!"

A thousand hands were stretched out to receive the Bodhisatta; but it was into the arms of the king and of no other that he descended, seating himself in the king's lap. The king made him viceroy, and made his mother queen-consort.

At the death of the king his father, he came to the throne by the title of King Kaṭṭhavāhana — the faggot-bearer — and after ruling his realm righteously, passed away to fare according to his deserts.



0021. The Princes and the Water-Sprite (Devadhamma)

From The Jataka Volume 1 translated by Robert Chalmers, online at: Sacred Texts Archive. (The subheadings and English title are my addition, and I have not included the frame tale.)

Notes: At Wikipedia you can find about more about Kubera and the yakshas (translated as "sprite" or "demon" in this story). The theme of the princes' exile in this story may remind you of the beginning of the Ramayana, and the incident at the pool may remind you of the story of Yudhishthira and his brothers who also meet a deadly water-yaksha in the part of the Mahabharata known as the Yaksha-Prashna.

Summary: Living in the wilderness, three princes face danger at a pool that belongs to a malicious water-sprite.

Read the story below:




THE THREE PRINCES AND THE WATER-SPRITE




The king's three sons: Mahimsasa, Sun, and Moon

Once on a time Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares in Kāsi. The Bodhisatta, having come to birth in those days as the king's son by the queen, was duly named Prince Mahiṃsāsa.

By the time he could run about, a second son was born to the king, and the name they gave this child was Prince Moon; but by the time he could run about, the Bodhisatta's mother died.

Then the king took another queen, who was his joy and delight; and their love was crowned with the birth of yet another prince, whom they named Prince Sun. In his joy at the birth of the boy, the king promised to grant her any boon she might ask on the child's behalf. But the queen treasured up the promise to be fulfilled at her own good time hereafter.

Later, when her son had grown up, she said to the king, "Sire, when my boy was born, you granted me a boon to ask for him. Let him be king."

"Nay," said the king; "two sons have I, radiant as flaming fires; I cannot give the kingdom to your son."

But when he saw that, undaunted by this refusal, the queen kept plaguing him time after time, to grant her request, the king, fearing lest the woman should plot evil against his sons, sent for them and said, "My children, when Prince Sun was born, I granted a boon; and now his mother wants the kingdom for him. I have no wish to give him the kingdom; but women are naturally wicked, and she will be plotting evil against you. You had better retire to the forest, to return at my death to rule in the city which belongs by right to our house."

So saying, with tears and lamentations, the king kissed his two sons on the head and sent them forth.

The pool in the Himalayan mountains

As the princes were leaving the palace after their adieux to their father, who should see them but Prince Sun himself, who was playing in the courtyard? And no sooner did he learn what was the matter than he made up his mind to go with his brothers. So he too went off in their company.

The three came to the region of the Himalayas; and here the Bodhisatta, who had turned aside from the road and was sitting at the foot of a tree, said to Prince Sun, "Run down to the pool yonder, Sun dear; drink and bathe there; and then bring us too some water back in a lotus-leaf."

Now that pool had been delivered over to a certain water-sprite by Vessavaṇa [Kubera], who said to him, "With the exception of such as know what is truly god-like, all that go down into this pool are yours to devour. Over those that do not enter the waters, you have no power granted to you." And thenceforth the water-sprite used to ask all who went down into the pool what was truly godlike, devouring everyone who did not know.

Princes Sun and Moon at the pool

Now it was into this pool that Prince Sun went down, quite unsuspiciously, with the result that he was seized by the water-sprite, who said to him, "Do you know what is truly godlike?"

"O yes," said he; "the sun and moon."

"You don't know," said the monster, and hauling the prince down into the depths of the water, imprisoned him there in his own abode.

Finding that his brother was a long time gone, the Bodhisatta sent Prince Moon. He too was seized by the water-sprite and asked whether he knew what was truly godlike.

"Oh yes, I know," said he; "the four quarters of heaven are."

"You don't know," said the water-sprite as he hauled this second victim off to the same prison-house.

Prince Mahimsasa at the pool

Finding that this second brother too tarried long, the Bodhisatta felt sure that something had happened to them. So away he went after them and tracked their footsteps down into the water. Realising at once that the pool must be the domain of a water-sprite, he girded on his sword, and took his bow in his hand, and waited.

Now when the demon found that the Bodhisatta had no intention of entering the water, he assumed the shape of a forester, and in this guise addressed the Bodhisatta thus: "You're tired with your journey, mate; why don't you go in and have a bathe and a drink, and deck yourself with lotuses? You would travel on comfortably afterwards."

Recognising him at once for a demon, the Bodhisatta said, "It is you who have seized my brothers."

"Yes, it was," was the reply.

"Why?"

"Because all who go down into this pool belong to me."

"What, all?"

"Not those who know what is truly godlike; all save these are mine."

"And do you want to know the godlike?"

"I do."

"If this be so, I will tell you what is truly godlike."

"Do so, and I will listen."

Prince Mahimsasa answers the question

"I should like to begin," said the Bodhisatta, "but I am travel-stained with my journey."

Then the water-sprite bathed the Bodhisatta, and gave him food to eat and water to drink, decked him with flowers, sprinkled him with scents, and laid out a couch for him in the midst of a gorgeous pavilion.

Seating himself on this couch, and making the water-sprite sit at his feet, the Bodhisatta said, "Listen then and you shall hear what the truly godlike is." And he repeated this stanza:--

Those only 'godlike' call who shrink from sin,
The white-souled tranquil votaries of Good.

And when the demon heard this, he was pleased, and said to the Bodhisatta, "Man of wisdom, I am pleased with you, and give you up one of your brothers. Which shall I bring?"

"The youngest."

"Man of wisdom, though you know so well what the truly godlike is, you don't act on your knowledge."

"How so?"

"Why, you take the younger in preference to the elder, without regard to his seniority."

"Demon, I not only know but practise the godlike. It was on this boy's account that we sought refuge in the forest; it was for him that his mother asked the kingdom from our father, and our father, refusing to fulfill her demand, consented to our flight to the refuge of the forest. With us came this boy, nor ever thought of turning back again. Not a soul would believe me if I were to give out that he had been devoured by a demon in the forest; and it is the fear of odium that impels me to demand him at your hands."

"Excellent! excellent! O man of wisdom," cried the demon in approval; "you not only know but practise the godlike." And in token of his pleasure and approval he brought forth the two brothers and gave them both to the Bodhisatta.

Prince Mahimsasa converts the demon

Then said the latter to the water-sprite, "Friend, it is in consequence of your own evil deeds in times past that you have now been born a demon subsisting on the flesh and blood of other living creatures; and in this present birth too you are continuing to do evil. This evil conduct will for ever bar you from escaping re-birth in hell and the other evil states. Wherefore, from this time forth renounce evil and live virtuously."

Having worked the demon's conversion, the Bodhisatta continued to dwell at that spot under his protection, until one day he read in the stars that his father was dead. Then taking the water-sprite with him, he returned to Benares and took possession of the kingdom, making Prince Moon his viceroy and Prince Sun his generalissimo. For the water-sprite he made a home in a pleasant spot and took measures to ensure his being provided with the choicest garlands, flowers, and food.

He himself ruled in righteousness until he passed away to fare according to his deeds.



Saturday, June 17, 2017

0015. The Measure of Rice (Taṇḍulanāli)

From The Jataka Volume 1 translated by Robert Chalmers, online at: Sacred Texts Archive. (The subheadings and English title are my addition, and I have not included the frame tale.)

Notes: The city of Varanasi (Benares) is a frequent setting for the jatakas, and it actually figures in the plot of this story. You can read more about the great city of Varanasi and the ancient Kingdom of Kashi at Wikipedia.

Summary: This story is about what happens when a dishonest and greedy king replaces his wise valuer with a fool.

Read the story below:




THE MEASURE OF RICE




The greedy king of Varanasi

Once on a time Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares in Kāsi. In those days our Bodhisatta was his valuer. He used to value horses, elephants, and the like; and jewels, gold, and the like; and he used to pay over to the owners of the goods the proper price, as he fixed it.

But the king was greedy and his greed suggested to him this thought: "This valuer with his style of valuing will soon exhaust all the riches in my house; I must get another valuer."

Opening his window and looking out into his courtyard, he espied walking across a stupid, greedy hind in whom he saw a likely candidate for the post. So the king had the man sent for, and asked him whether he could do the work.

"Oh yes," said the man; and so, to safeguard the royal treasure, this stupid fellow was appointed valuer.

The horse-dealer and his 500 horses

After this the fool, in valuing elephants and horses and the like, used to fix a price dictated by his own fancy, neglecting their true worth; but, as he was valuer, the price was what he said and no other.

At that time there arrived from the north country a horse-dealer with 500 horses. The king sent for his new valuer and bade him value the horses. And the price he set on the whole 500 horses was just one measure of rice, which he ordered to be paid over to the dealer, directing the horses to be led off to the stable.

Away went the horse-dealer to the old valuer, to whom he told what had happened, and asked what was to be done.

"Give him a bribe," said the ex-valuer, "and put this point to him: 'Knowing as we do that our horses are worth just a single measure of rice, we are curious to learn from you what the precise value of a measure of rice is; could you state its value in the king's presence?' If he says he can, then take him before the king; and I too will be there."

The value of a measure of rice

Readily following the Bodhisatta's advice, the horse-dealer bribed the man and put the question to him.

The other, having expressed his ability to value a measure of rice, was promptly taken to the palace, whither also went the Bodhisatta and many other ministers.

With due obeisance the horse-dealer said, "Sire, I do not dispute it that the price of 500 horses is a single measure of rice; but I would ask your majesty to question your valuer as to the value of that measure of rice."

Ignorant of what had passed, the king said to the fellow, "Valuer, what are 500 horses worth?"

"A measure of rice, sire," was the reply.

"Very good, my friend; if 500 horses then are worth one measure of rice, what is that measure of rice worth?"

"It is worth all Benares and its suburbs," was the fool's reply.

Thus we learn that, having first valued the horses at a measure of hill-paddy to please the king, he was bribed by the horse-dealer to estimate that measure of rice at the worth of all Benares and its suburbs. And that though the walls of Benares were twelve leagues round by themselves, while the city and suburbs together were three hundred leagues round! Yet the fool priced all this vast city and its suburbs at a single measure of rice!

The fool is exposed

Hereupon the ministers clapped their hands and laughed merrily. "We used to think," they said in scorn, "that the earth and the realm were beyond price; but now we learn that the kingdom of Benares together with its king is only worth a single measure of rice! What talents the valuer has! How has he retained his post so long? But truly the valuer suits our king admirably."

Then the Bodhisatta repeated this stanza:

Dost ask how much a peck of rice is worth?
-- Why, all Benares, both within and out.
Yet, strange to tell, five hundred horses too
Are worth precisely this same peck of rice!

Thus put to open shame, the king sent the fool packing, and gave the Bodhisatta the office again.

And when his life closed, the Bodhisatta passed away to fare according to his deserts.



Friday, June 16, 2017

0004. The Business Begins with a Mouse (Cullaka-Seṭṭhi)

From The Jataka Volume 1 translated by Robert Chalmers, online at: Sacred Texts Archive. (The subheadings and English title are my addition, and I have not included the frame tale.)

Notes: For more stories of "trading up," compare the English folktale of Dick Whittington and his Cat or the Japanese story of The Straw Millionaire. There is also a true story about Kyle MacDonald who traded up from "one red paperclip" in 2005 to a house of his own in 2006.

Summary: This is the story of a man who trades up from a dead mouse in order to acquire a fortune.

Read the story below:




THE BUSINESS BEGINS WITH A MOUSE





Treasurer Little and the dead mouse

Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares in Kāsi, the Bodhisatta was born into the Treasurer's family, and growing up, was made Treasurer, being called Treasurer Little. A wise and clever man was he, with a keen eye for signs and omens.

One day on his way to wait upon the king, he came on a dead mouse lying on the road; and, taking note of the position of the stars at that moment, he said, "Any decent young fellow with his wits about him has only to pick that mouse up, and he might start a business and keep a wife."

His words were overheard by a young man of good family but reduced circumstances, who said to himself, "That's a man who has always got a reason for what he says."

And accordingly he picked up the mouse, which he sold for a farthing at a tavern for their cat.

Profits from the molasses

With the farthing he got molasses and took drinking water in a water-pot.

Coming on flower-gatherers returning from the forest, he gave each a tiny quantity of the molasses and ladled the water out to them. Each of them gave him a handful of flowers, with the proceeds of which, next day, he came back again to the flower grounds provided with more molasses and a pot of water.

That day the flower-gatherers, before they went, gave him flowering plants with half the flowers left on them; and thus in a little while he obtained eight pennies.

Later, one rainy and windy day, the wind blew down a quantity of rotten branches and boughs and leaves in the king's pleasaunce, and the gardener did not see how to clear them away. Then up came the young man with an offer to remove the lot, if the wood and leaves might be his. The gardener closed with the offer on the spot.

Then this apt pupil of Treasurer Little repaired to the children's playground and in a very little while had got them by bribes of molasses to collect every stick and leaf in the place into a heap at the entrance to the pleasaunce.

Just then the king's potter was on the look out for fuel to fire bowls for the palace, and coming on this heap, took the lot off his hands. The sale of his wood brought in sixteen pennies to this pupil of Treasurer Little, as well as five bowls and other vessels.

The mowers and the grass

Having now twenty-four pennies in all, a plan occurred to him. He went to the vicinity of the city-gate with a jar full of water and supplied 500 mowers with water to drink. Said they, "You've done us a good turn, friend. What can we do for you?"

"Oh, I'll tell you when I want your aid," said he; and as he went about, he struck up an intimacy with a land-trader and a sea-trader.

Said the former to him, "To-morrow there will come to town a horse-dealer with 500 horses to sell."

On hearing this piece of news, he said to the mowers, "I want each of you to-day to give me a bundle of grass and not to sell your own grass till mine is sold."

"Certainly," said they, and delivered the 500 bundles of grass at his house. Unable to get grass for his horses elsewhere, the dealer purchased our friend's grass for a thousand pieces.

The ship in the port

Only a few days later his sea-trading friend brought him news of the arrival of a large ship in port; and another plan struck him. He hired for eight pence a well appointed carriage which plied for hire by the hour, and went in great style down to the port. Having bought the ship on credit and deposited his signet-ring as security, he had a pavilion pitched hard by and said to his people as he took his seat inside, "When merchants are being shewn in, let them be passed on by three successive ushers into my presence."

Hearing that a ship had arrived in port, about a hundred merchants came down to buy the cargo; only to he told that they could not have it as a great merchant had already made a payment on account. So away they all went to the young man; and the footmen duly announced them by three successive ushers, as had been arranged beforehand.

Each man of the hundred severally gave him a thousand pieces to buy a share in the ship and then a further thousand each to buy him out altogether. So it was with 200,000 pieces that this pupil of Treasurer Little returned to Benares.

Back to Treasurer Little

Actuated by a desire to shew his gratitude, he went with one hundred thousand pieces to call on Treasurer Little.

"How did you come by all this wealth?" asked the Treasurer.

"In four short months, simply by following your advice," replied the young man; and he told him the whole story, starting with the dead mouse.

Thought Lord High Treasurer Little, on hearing all this, "I must see that a young fellow of these parts does not fall into anybody else's hands."

So he married him to his own grown-up daughter and settled all the family estates on the young man. And at the Treasurer's death, he became Treasurer in that city. And the Bodhisatta passed away to fare according to his deserts.



0003. The Golden Bowl (Serivāṇija)

From The Jataka Volume 1 translated by Robert Chalmers, online at: Sacred Texts Archive. (The subheadings and English title are my addition, and I have not included the frame tale.)

Notes: You may notice a similarity in this story to the "new lamps for old" episode in the story of Aladdin's Lamp where Aladdin's wife mistakenly gives away her husband's lamp, not knowing its value.

Summary: This story is about a poor old woman and her granddaughter who do not realize that they possess a great treasure.

Read the story below:




THE GOLDEN BOWL




Dealers in pots and pans

Once on a time in the kingdom of Seri, five aeons ago, the Bodhisatta dealt in pots and pans, and was called 'the Serivan.'

In the company of another dealer in the same wares, a greedy fellow who was also known as 'the Serivan,' he came across the river Telavāha and entered the city of Andhapura. Apportioning the streets between the two of them, he set about hawking his wares round the streets of his district, and the other did the same in his district.

The old woman and her granddaughter

Now in that city there was a decayed family. Once they had been rich merchants, but by the time of our story they had lost all the sons and brothers and all their wealth. The sole survivors were a girl and her grandmother, and they got their living by working for hire.

Nevertheless, they had got in their house the golden bowl out of which in the old days the great merchant, the head of the family, used to eat; but it had been thrown among the pots and pans, and having been long out of use, was grimed over with dirt, so that the two women did not know that it was gold.

The greedy hawker comes calling

To the door of their house came the greedy hawker on his round, crying, "Waterpots to sell! Waterpots to sell!"

And the damsel, when she knew be was there, said to her grandmother, "Oh, do buy me a trinket, grandmother."

"We're very poor, dear; what can we offer in exchange for it?"

"Why here's this bowl which is no good to us. Let us change that for it."

The old woman had the hawker brought in and seated, and gave him the bowl, saying, "Take this, sir, and be so good as to give your sister something or other in exchange."

The hawker took the bowl in his hand, turned it over, and, suspecting it was gold, scratched a line on the back of it with a needle, whereby he knew for certain that it was real gold. Then, thinking that he would get the pot without giving anything whatever for it to the women, he cried, "What's the value of this, pray? Why it isn't worth half a farthing!" And therewithal he threw the bowl on the ground, rose up from his seat, and left the house.

The Bodhisatta comes calling

Now, as it had been agreed between the two hawkers that the one might try the streets which the other had already been into, the Bodhisatta came into that same street and appeared at the door of the house, crying, "Waterpots to sell!"

 Once again the damsel made the same request of her grandmother; and the old woman, replied, "My dear, the first hawker threw our bowl on the ground and flung out of the house. What have we got left to offer now?"

"Oh, but that hawker was a harsh-spoken man, grandmother dear; whilst this one looks a nice man and speaks kindly. Very likely he would take it."

"Call him in then."

So he came into the house, and they gave him a seat and put the bowl into his hands. Seeing that the bowl was gold, he said, "Mother, this howl is worth a hundred thousand pieces; I haven't its value with me."

"Sir, the first hawker who came here said that it was not worth half a farthing; so he threw it to the ground and went away. It must have been the efficacy of your own goodness which has turned the bowl into gold. Take it; give us something or other for it; and go your way."

At the time the Bodhisatta had 500 pieces of money and a stock worth as much more. The whole of this he gave to them, saying, "Let me retain my scales, my bag, and eight pieces of money."

And with their consent he took these with him, and departed with all speed to the river-side where he gave his eight coins to the boatman and jumped into the boat.

The return of the greedy hawker

Subsequently that greedy hawker had come back to the house, and had asked them to bring out their bowl, saying he would give them something or other for it. But the old woman flew out at him with these words, "You made out that our golden bowl which is worth a hundred thousand pieces was not worth even a half-farthing. But there came an upright hawker (your master, I take it), who gave us a thousand pieces for it and took the bowl away."

Hereupon he exclaimed, "He has robbed me of a golden bowl worth a full hundred thousand pieces; he has caused me a terrible loss." And intense sorrow came upon him, so that he lost command over himself and became like one distraught. His money and goods he flung away at the door of the house; he threw off his upper and under cloths; and, armed with the beam of his scales as a club, he tracked the Bodhisatta down to the river-side.

The end of the greedy hawker

Finding the latter already crossing, he shouted to the boatman to put back, but the Bodhisatta told him not to do so.

As the other stood there gazing and gazing at the retreating Bodhisatta, intense sorrow seized upon him. His heart grew hot; blood gushed from his lips; and his heart cracked like the mud at the bottom of a tank, which the sun has dried up. Through the hatred which he had contracted against the Bodhisatta, he perished then and there.

The Bodhisatta, after a life spent in charity and other good works, passed away to fare according to his deserts.



0002. The Grass in the Desert (Vaṇṇupatha)

From The Jataka Volume 1 translated by Robert Chalmers, online at: Sacred Texts Archive. (The subheadings and English title are my addition, and I have not included the frame tale.)

Notes: After telling this story, the Buddha pronounced these verses:

Untiring, deep they dug that sandy track
Till, in the trodden way, they water found.
So let the sage, in perseverance strong,
Flag not nor tire, until his heart find Peace.

Summary: Stranded in a waterless desert, the Bodhisatta must find a way to save his caravan.

Read the story below:




THE GRASS IN THE DESERT




Crossing the sandy wilderness

Once on a time when Brahmadatta was king in Benares in Kāsi the Bodhisatta was born into a trader's family. When he was grown up, he used to travel about trading with 500 carts.

On one occasion he came to a sandy wilderness sixty leagues across, the sand of which was so fine that, when grasped, it slipped through the fingers of the closed fist. As soon as the sun got up, it grew as hot as a bed of charcoal-embers and nobody could walk upon it.

Accordingly, those traversing it used to take fire-wood, water, oil, rice and so forth on their carts, and only travelled by night. At dawn they used to range their carts in a circle to form a laager, with an awning spread overhead, and after an early meal used to sit in the shade all the day long. When the sun went down, they had their evening meal; and, so soon as the ground became cool, they used to yoke their carts and move forward.

Travelling on this desert was like voyaging over the sea; a 'desert-pilot,' as he was called, had to convoy them over by knowledge of the stars. And this was the way in which our merchant was now travelling that wilderness.

When he had only some seven more miles before him, he thought to himself, "To-night will see us out of this sandy wilderness."

The desert-pilot's mistake

So, after they had had their supper, he ordered the wood and water to be thrown away, and yoking his carts, set out on the road. In the front cart sat the pilot upon a couch looking up to the stars in the heavens and directing the course thereby.

But so long had he been without sleep that he was tired out and fell asleep, with the result that he did not mark that the oxen had turned round and were retracing their steps. All night the oxen kept on their way, but at dawn the pilot woke up, and, observing the disposition of the stars overhead, shouted out, "Turn the carts round! turn the carts round!" And as they turned the carts round and were forming them into line, the day broke.

"Why this is where we camped yesterday," cried the people of the caravan. "All our wood and water is gone, and we are lost." So saying, they unyoked their carts and made a laager and spread the awning overhead; then each man flung himself down in despair beneath his own cart.

Thought the Bodhisatta to himself, "If I give in, every single one will perish."

The grass in the desert

So he ranged to and fro while it was still early and cool, until he came on a clump of kusa-grass. "This grass," thought he, "can only have grown up here thanks to the presence of water underneath."

So he ordered a spade to be brought and a hole to be dug at that spot. Sixty cubits down they dug, till at that depth the spade struck on a rock, and everybody lost heart.

But the Bodhisatta, feeling sure there must be water under that rock, descended into the hole and took his stand upon the rock. Stooping down, he applied his ear to it, and listened. Catching the sound of water flowing beneath, he came out and said to a serving-lad, "My boy, if you give in, we shall all perish. So take heart and courage. Go down into the hole with this iron sledge-hammer, and strike the rock."

Water in the well

Obedient to his master's bidding, the lad, resolute where all others had lost heart, went down and struck the rock. The rock which had dammed the stream, split asunder and fell in. Up rose the water in the hole till it was as high as a palm-tree; and everybody drank and bathed. Then they chopped up their spare axles and yokes and other surplus gear, cooked their rice and ate it, and fed their oxen. And as soon as the sun set, they hoisted a flag by the side of the well and travelled on to their destination.

There they bartered away their goods for twice and four times their value. With the proceeds they returned to their own home, where they lived out their term of life and in the end passed away to fare thereafter according to their deserts.

The Bodhisatta too after a life spent in charity and other good works, passed away likewise to fare according to his deserts.



0001. The Wise and Foolish Merchants (Apaṇṇaka)

From The Jataka Volume 1 translated by Robert Chalmers, online at: Sacred Texts Archive. (The subheadings and English title are my addition, and I have not included the frame tale.)

Notes. You can read more about these deadly, shape-shifting goblins, or rakshasas, at Wikipedia.

Summary: This is the story of two merchants, one wise and one foolish, who venture into a Waterless Desert which is inhabited by deadly goblins.

Read the story below:




THE WISE AND FOOLISH MERCHANTS




Once on a time in the city of Benares in the Kāsi country there was a king named Brahmadatta. In those days the Bodhisatta was born into a merchant's family, and growing up in due course, used to journey about trading with, five hundred carts, travelling now from east to west and now from west to east. There was also at Benares another young merchant, a stupid blockhead, lacking resource.

Now at the time of our story the Bodhisatta had loaded five hundred carts with costly wares of Benares and had got them all ready to start. And so had the foolish young merchant too. Thought the Bodhisatta, "If this foolish young merchant keeps me company all along, and the thousand carts travel along together, it will be too much for the road; it will be a hard matter to get wood, water, and so forth for the men, or grass for the oxen. Either he or I must go on first."

Who will go first?

So he sent for the other and laid his view before him, saying, "The two of us can't travel together; would you rather go first or last?"

Thought the other, "There will be many advantages if I go on first. I shall have a road which is not yet cut up; my oxen will have the pick of the grass; my men will have the pick of the herbs for curry; the water will be undisturbed; and, lastly, I shall fix my own price for the barter of my goods." Accordingly he replied, "I will go first, my dear sir."

The Bodhisatta, on the other hand, saw many advantages in going last, for he argued thus to himself: "Those who go first will level the road where it is rough, whilst I shall travel along the road they have already travelled; their oxen will have grazed off the coarse old grass, whilst mine will pasture on the sweet young growth which will spring up in its place; my men will find a fresh growth of sweet herbs for curry where the old ones have been picked; where there is no water, the first caravan will have to dig to supply themselves, and we shall drink at the wells they dug. Haggling over prices is killing work; whereas I, following later, shall barter my wares at the prices they have already fixed."

Accordingly, seeing all these advantages, he said to the other, "Then go you first, my dear sir."

"Very well, I will," said the foolish merchant. And he yoked his carts and set out.

The foolish merchant in the wilderness

Journeying along, he left human habitations behind him and came to the outskirts of the wilderness.

Now wildernesses are of the five following kinds: robber wildernesses, wild-beast wildernesses, drought wildernesses, demon wildernesses, and famine wildernesses. The first is when the way is beset by robbers; the second is when the way is beset by lions and other wild beasts; the third is when there is no bathing or water to be got; the fourth is when the road is beset by demons; and the fifth is when no roots or other food are to be found.

And in this fivefold category the wilderness in question was both a drought and a demon wilderness. Accordingly this young merchant took great big water-jars on his carts, and filling them with water, set out to cross the sixty leagues of desert which lay before him.

The goblin's plan

Now when he had reached the middle of the wilderness, the goblin who haunted it said to himself, "I will make these men throw away their stock of water, and devour them all when they are faint."

So he framed by his magic power a delightful carriage drawn by pure white young bulls. With a retinue of some ten or twelve goblins bearing bows and quivers, swords and shields, he rode along to meet them like a mighty lord in this carriage, with blue lotuses and white water-lilies wreathed round his head, with wet hair and wet clothes, and with muddy carriage-wheels. His attendants, too, in front and rear of him went along with their hair and clothes wet, with garlands of blue lotuses and white water-lilies on their beads, and with bunches of white lotuses in their hands, chewing the esculent stalks, and dripping with water and mire.

Now the leaders of caravans have the following custom: whenever the wind blows in their teeth, they ride on in front in their carriage with their attendants round them, in order to escape the dust; but when the wind blows from behind them, then they ride in like fashion in the rear of the column. And, as on this occasion the wind was blowing against them, the young merchant was riding in front.

The foolish merchant and the goblin

When the goblin became aware of the merchant's approach, he drew his carriage aside from the track and greeted him kindly, asking him whither he was going.

The leader of the caravan too caused his carriage to be drawn aside from the track so as to let the carts pass by, whilst he stayed by the way and thus addressed the goblin: "We are just on our way from Benares, sir. But I observe that you have lotuses and water-lilies on your heads and in your hands, and that your people are chewing the esculent stalks, and that you are all muddy and dripping with wet. Pray did it rain while you were on the road, and did you come on pools covered with lotuses and water-lilies?"

Hereon the goblin exclaimed, "What did you say? Why, yonder appears the dark-green streak of the forest, and thence onward there is nothing but water all through the forest. It is always raining there; the pools are full; and on every side are lakes covered with lotuses and water-lilies."

Then as the line of carts passed by, he asked where they were bound for.

"To such and such a place," was the reply.

"And what wares have you got in this cart and in this?"

"So and so."

"And what might you have in this last cart which seems to move as if it were heavily laden?"

"Oh, there's water in that."

"You did well to carry water with you from the other side. But there is no need for it now, as water is abundant on ahead. So break the jars and throw the water away, that you may travel easier." And he added, "Now continue on your way, as we have stopped too long already."

Then he went a little way further on, till he was out of sight, when he made his way back to the goblin-city where he dwelt.

Such was the folly of that foolish merchant that he did the goblin's bidding, and had his jars broken and the water all thrown away, without saving so much even as would go in the palm of a man's hand. Then he ordered the carts to drive on.

The fate of the foolish merchant

Not a drop of water did they find on ahead, and thirst exhausted the men. All day long till the sun went down they kept on the march; but at sunset they unyoked their carts and made a laager, tethering the oxen to the wheels. The oxen had no water to drink, and the men none to cook their rice with; and the tired-out band sank to the ground to slumber.

But as soon as night fell, the goblins came out from their city, and slew every single one of those men and oxen; and when they had devoured their flesh, leaving only the bare bones, the goblins departed.

Thus was the foolish young merchant the sole cause of the destruction of that whole band, whose skeletons were strewn in every conceivable direction, whilst the five hundred carts stood there with their loads untouched.

The wise merchant in the wilderness

Now the Bodhisatta allowed some six weeks to pass by after the starting of the foolish young merchant, before he set out. Then he proceeded from the city with his five hundred carts, and in due course came to the outskirts of the wilderness. Here he had his water-jars filled and laid in an ample stock of water; and by beat of drum he had his men assembled in camp, and thus addressed them: "Let not so much as a palmful of water be used without my sanction. There are poison trees in this wilderness; so let no man among you eat any leaf, flower, or fruit which he has not eaten before, without first asking me."

With this exhortation to his men, he pushed on into the wilderness with his 500 carts.

The wise merchant meets the goblin

When he had reached the middle of the wilderness, the goblin made his appearance on the Bodhisatta's path as in the former case.

But, as soon as he became aware of the goblin, the Bodhisatta saw through him; for he thought to himself, "There's no water here, in this 'Waterless Desert.' This person with his red eyes and aggressive bearing, casts no shadow. Very likely he has induced the foolish young merchant who preceded me, to throw away all his water, and then, waiting till they were worn out, has eaten up the merchant with all his men. But he doesn't know my cleverness and ready wit."

Then he shouted to the goblin, "Begone! We're men of business, and do not throw away what water we have got, before we see where more is to come from. But, when we do see more, we may be trusted to throw this water away and lighten our carts."

The goblin rode on a bit further till he was out of sight, and then betook himself back to his home in the demon city.

The wise merchant teaches his men

But when the goblin had gone, the Bodhisatta's men said to him, "Sir, we heard from those men that yonder is the dark-green streak of the forest appearing, where they said it was always raining. They had got lotuses on their heads and water-lilies in their hands and were eating the stalks, whilst their clothes and hair were wringing wet, with water streaming off them. Let us throw away our water and get on a bit quicker with lightened carts."

On hearing these words, the Bodhisatta ordered a halt and had the men all mustered. "Tell me," said he; "did any man among you ever hear before today that there was a lake or a pool in this wilderness?"

"No, sir," was the answer, "why it's known as 'the Waterless Desert'."

"We have just been told by some people that it is raining just on ahead, in the belt of forest; now how far does a rain-wind carry?"

"A league, sir."

"And has this rain-wind reached any one man here?"

"No, sir."

"How far off can you see the crest of a storm-cloud?"

"A league, sir."

"And has any one man here seen the top of even a single storm-cloud?"

"No, sir." "How far off can you see a flash of lightning?"

"Four or five leagues, sir."

"And has any one man here seen a flash of lightning?"

"No, sir."

"How far off can a man hear a peal of thunder?"

"Two or three leagues, sir."

"And has any man here heard a peal of thunder?"

"No, sir."

"These are not men but goblins. They will return in the hope of devouring us when we are weak and faint after throwing away our water at their bidding. As the young merchant who went on before us was not a man of resource, most likely he has been fooled into throwing his water away and has been devoured when exhaustion ensued. We may expect to find his five hundred carts standing just as they were loaded for the start; we shall come on them today. Press on with all possible speed, without throwing away a drop of water."

The wise merchant and his men complete their journey

Urging his men forward with these words, he proceeded on his way till he came upon the 500 carts standing just as they had been loaded and the skeletons of the men and oxen lying strewn in every direction. He had his carts unyoked and ranged in a circle so as to form a strong laager; he saw that his men and oxen had their supper early, and that the oxen were made to lie down in the middle with the men round them; and he himself with the leading men of his band stood on guard, sword in hand, through the three watches of the night, waiting for the day to dawn.

On the morrow at daybreak when he had had his oxen fed and everything needful done, he discarded his own weak carts for stronger ones, and his own common goods for the most costly of the derelict goods. Then he went on to his destination, where he bartered his stock for wares of twice or three times their value, and came back to his own city without losing a single man out of all his company.