Chapter III: Part 2: Corrupt fruit from a good tree Jā. 186: ii. 104 (2)

Now when he reached the age of reason, elephants from all over Himavat assembled and formed his retinue. Thus did he make his home in the region of Himavat, with a retinue of eighty thousand elephants. After a time, perceiving that there was contamination in the herd, he isolated himself from the herd and made his home quite alone in the forest. Moreover, by reason of his goodness, he became known as Good King Elephant.

Now a certain resident of Benāres, a forester, entered the forest, seeking wares whereby to make his living. Unable to distinguish the directions, he lost his way, and terrified with the fear of death, went about with outstretched arms lamenting. The Future Buddha, hearing those profound lamentations of his, thought: “I will free this man from his suffering.” And impelled by compassion, he went to him.

The instant that man saw the Future Buddha, he fled in fright. The Future Buddha, seeing him in flight, halted right where he was. The man, seeing that the Future Buddha had halted, himself halted. The Future Buddha came back. The man fled a second time, but halting when the Future Buddha halted, thought: “This elephant halts when I flee, and approaches when I halt. He has no desire to do me harm, but without a doubt desires only to free me from this suffering.” And summoning up his courage, he halted.

The Future Buddha approached him and asked: “Why, Master man, do you go about lamenting?” “Master, because I couldn’t distinguish the directions, lost my way, and was afraid of death.” Then the Future Buddha conducted him to his own place of abode, and for a few days gladdened him with fruits and other edibles. Then said the Future Buddha: “Master man, don’t be afraid: I’ll conduct you to the path of man.” And seating him on his back, he proceeded to the path of men.

But that man, that betrayer of friends, even as he sat on the back of the Future Buddha, thought: “If anybody asks me, I must be able to tell him where this elephant lives.” So as he went along, he noted carefully the landmarks of tree and mountain. Now the Future Buddha, having conducted that man out of the forest, set him down on the highway leading to Benāres, and said to him: “Master man, go by this road; but as for my place of abode, whether you are asked or not, say nothing to anybody about it.” So saying, he took leave of him and went back to his own place of abode.

Now that man went to Benāres, and in the course of his walks came to the street of the ivory-carvers. And seeing the ivory-carvers making various kinds of ivory products, he asked: “But, sirs, how much would you make if you could get the tusk of a real live elephant?” “What are you saying, sir! The tusk of a live elephant is far more valuable than the tusk of a dead elephant.” “Very well! I’ll fetch you the tusk of a live elephant.” Accordingly, obtaining provisions for the journey and taking a sharp saw, he went to the place of abode of the Future Buddha.

When the Future Buddha saw him, he asked: “For what purpose have you come?” “I, sir, am a poor man, a pauper, unable to make a living. I came with this thought in my mind: ‘I will ask you for a fragment of one of your tusks; if you will give it to me, I will take it and go and sell it and with the money it brings make a living.’” “Let be, sir! I’ll give you tusks, if you have a sharp saw to cut them off with.” “I brought a saw with me, sir.” “Very well, sever the tusks with your saw and take them and go your way.” So saying, the Future Buddha bowed his knees together and sat down like a cow. The man actually cut off his two principal tusks!

The Future Buddha, taking those tusks in his trunk, said: “Master man, not with the thought, ‘These tusks are not dear to me, not pleasing to me,’ do I give you these tusks. But dearer to me than these a thousand times,--a hundred thousand times,--are the Tusks of Omniscience, which avail to the comprehension of all things. May this gift of tusks which I here bestow enable me to attain Omniscience!” So saying, as it were sowing the Seed of Omniscience, he gave him the pair of tusks.

The man took them and went and sold them. When the money they brought was gone, he went to the Future Buddha again and said: “Master, the money I got by selling you tusks turned out to be no more than enough to pay off my debts. Give me the rest of your tusks!” “Very well,” said the Future Buddha, consenting. And ordering all things precisely as before, he gave him the rest of his tusks.

Those also did that man sell, and then came back again. “Master,” said he. “I cannot make a living. Give me the stumps of your tusks!” “Very well,” said the Future Buddha, and sat down precisely as before. That wicked man trod on the Great Being’s trunk,--that trunk which was like unto a rope of silver; climbed up on the Great Being’s temples,--those temples which were like unto the snow-clad peaks of Kelāsa, with his heel kicking the tips of the tusks and loosening the flesh; and having mounted the temples, with a sharp saw severed the stumps of the tusks, and went his way.

But even as that wicked man receded from the vision of the Future Buddha, the solid earth, which extends for a distance of two hundred thousand leagues and four Inconceivables more, which is able to endure such mighty burdens as Sineru and Yugandhara, and all manner of foul-smelling and repulsive objects,--even the solid earth, as if unable to endure the wickedness he had piled upon it, burst asunder and yawned. Instantly from the Great Waveless Hell flames of fire shot forth, enveloped that man, that betrayer of friends, wrapping him, as it were, in a blanket proper for death and laid hold of him.

When that wicked man thus entered the earth, the tree-spirit resident in that forest-grove thought: “An ungrateful man, a man who will betray his friends, cannot be satisfied, even if he be given the kingdom of a Universal Monarch.” And making the forest ring, proclaiming the Truth, the tree-spirit uttered the following stanza:

To an ungrateful man
Ever looking for an opening
You may give the whole earth
And yet not satisfy him.

Thus did that tree-spirit, making the forest ring, proclaim the Truth. The Future Buddha, having remained on earth during the term of life allotted to him, passed away according to his deeds.

Said the Teacher: “Monks, not only in his present state of existence
has Devadatta proved ungrateful; in a previous state of existence
also he was ungrateful just the same.” Having completed the parable,
he identified the personages in the Birth-story as follows: “At that
time the man who betrayed his friend was Devadatta, the tree-spirit
was one of my disciples, but Good King Elephant was I myself.”

_4. Quail, Crow, Fly, Frog, and Elephants._

_The biter bit._

Jātaka 357: iii. 174-177.

Hearing that the monks of Kosambi were quarreling, the Exalted One
went to them and said: “Enough, monks! No quarreling! No brawling! No
contending! No wrangling!” Then he said: “Monks, quarrels, brawls,
contentions, wrangles,--all these are unprofitable. For because of a
quarrel even a tiny quail brought about the destruction of a noble
elephant.”

In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha was reborn as an elephant. He grew up to be a fine big animal, acquired a retinue of eighty thousand elephants, and becoming the leader of a herd, made his home in the Himālaya region. At that time a tiny female quail laid her eggs in the elephants’ stamping-ground. When the eggs were hatched, the fledglings broke the shells and came out. Before their wings had grown and while they were yet unable to fly, the Great Being came to that spot with his retinue of eighty thousand elephants in search of food.

When the tiny quail saw him, she thought: “This elephant-king will crush my fledglings and kill them. Well, I will ask of him righteous protection for the defense of my little ones.” So folding her wings and standing before him, she uttered the first stanza:

I salute you, elephant of sixty years,
Forest-ranger, glorious leader of a herd;
With my wings I do you homage.
I am weak: do not kill my little ones.

Said the Great Being: “Do not worry, tiny quail; I will protect your little ones.” And he stood over the fledglings, and the eighty thousand elephants passed by. Then he addressed the tiny quail: “Behind us comes a single solitary elephant; he will not obey our command. If you ask him also when he comes, you may obtain safety for your little ones.” So saying, he went his way.

The tiny quail went forth to meet the solitary elephant, did homage to him with her wings, and uttered the second stanza:

I salute you, solitary elephant,
Forest-ranger, pasturing on mountain and on hill;
With my wings I do you homage.
I am weak: do not kill my little ones.

The solitary elephant, hearing her words, uttered the third stanza:

I will kill your little ones, tiny quail.
What can you do to me? You are a weakling.
Even a hundred thousand like you
Could I crush with my left foot.

So saying, he pulverized her little ones with his foot, and went his way trumpeting. The tiny quail perched on the branch of a tree and thought: “Just now you go your way trumpeting. In only a few days you will see what I can do! You do not understand that the mind is stronger than the body. Ah, but I will make you understand!” And threatening him, she uttered the fourth stanza:

For not alway does strength avail;
For strength is the destruction of a fool.
Elephant-king, I will do you harm,
You who killed my little ones since I was weak.

Thus spoke the tiny quail. For a few days she ministered to a crow. The crow was pleased and said: “What can I do for you?” Said the tiny quail: “Master, there is only one thing I want done. I expect you to peck out the eyes of that solitary elephant.” “Very well,” assented the crow. The tiny quail then ministered to a green fly. The fly also said, “What can I do for you?” Said the tiny quail: “When this crow has put out the eyes of the solitary elephant, I wish you would drop a nit on them.” “Very well,” assented the fly also. The tiny quail then ministered to a frog. Said the frog: “What can I do?” Said the tiny quail: “When this solitary elephant has gone blind and seeks water to drink, then please squat on the mountain-top and croak; and when he has climbed to the top of the mountain, then please hop down and croak at the bottom. This is all I expect of you.” The frog also, hearing her words, assented, saying, “Very well.”

Now one day the crow pecked out both of the elephant’s eyes, and the fly let a nit drop on them. The elephant, eaten up by maggots, maddened with pain, overcome with thirst, wandered about seeking water to drink. At that moment the frog, squatting on the mountain-top, let out a croak. The elephant thought: “There must be water there;” and climbed the mountain. Then the frog hopped down, and squatting at the bottom, let out a croak. The elephant thought: “There must be water there.” And going to the brink of the precipice, he tumbled and fell to the foot of the mountain, and met destruction.

When the tiny quail realized that he was dead, she cried out: “I have seen the back of my enemy!” And pleased and delighted, she strutted over his shoulders, and passed away according to her deeds.

Behold the quail, the crow, the fly, the frog!
They slew the elephant! Behold the hatred of the haters!

_5. Quails and Fowler._

_In union there is strength._

Jātaka 33: i. 208-210.

Then said the Exalted One to those monks: “Monks, be united; do not
wrangle. For because of a wrangle many thousand quails lost their
lives.”

In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha was reborn as a quail, and lived in the forest with a retinue of many thousand quails. At that time a certain quail-hunter used to go to the haunt of the quails and attract them by imitating a quail’s whistle. When he perceived that they had assembled, he would throw a net over them and huddle them all together by trampling the edges. Then he would fill his basket, go home, and sell them. Thus he made his living.

Now one day the Future Buddha said to those quails: “This fowler is bringing our kinsfolk to destruction. I know a way by which he shall not be able to catch us. From this time on, the moment he throws the net over you, let each quail stick his head through a single mesh, lift the net, and carrying it wherever you will, let it down on some thorn-brake. This done, we can escape each through his own mesh.” They all assented, saying, “Very well!”

When the net was thrown over them on the following day, they raised the net precisely as the Future Buddha had told them to, dropped it on a certain thorn-brake, and themselves escaped from under. Twilight came on with the fowler still busy disentangling the net from the brake, and he went away absolutely empty-handed. On the next day, and thereafter also, the quails did the very same thing. The fowler also, busy every moment until sunset disentangling the net, got nothing, and went home absolutely empty-handed.

Now his wife got angry and said: “Day after day you return empty-handed; I suppose there is some other household outside you have to provide for too.” Said the fowler: “My dear, there is no other household I have to provide for. The fact is, these quails are acting in unison. The moment I throw the net, they depart with it and drop it on a thorn-brake. But they will not live in unity forever. Do not worry. When they fall to wrangling, I will return with them all and bring a smile to your lips.” And he recited the following stanza to his wife:

United, the birds go away with the net;
But when they fall out, they’ll come into my power.

Now after only a few days had passed, one quail, lighting on the feeding-ground, accidentally trod on the head of another. The other was offended and said: “Who trod on my head?” “I did, but accidentally; do not be offended.” But the other was offended just the same. They bandied words and wrangled with each other, saying, “You alone, I suppose, lift the net!”

While they wrangled, the Future Buddha thought: “There is no safety for a wrangler. From this moment they will not lift the net. Then they will come to a sorry end. The fowler will get his chance. It is impossible for me to live in this place.” And he went elsewhere with his own retinue.

As for the fowler, he came back after a few days, imitated a quail’s whistle, and when the quails had assembled, threw the net over them. Then said one quail: “They say that in the very act of lifting the net, you lost the down on your head. Now lift!” Said another: “They say that in the very act of lifting the net, you lost your wing-feathers. Now lift!”

Even as they said: “You lift!” “You lift!” the fowler tossed the net. And huddling them all together, he filled his basket, and went home and brought a smile to the lips of his wife.

And for the second time the Exalted One said this to those monks:
“Enough, monks! No quarreling! No brawling! No contending! No
wrangling!”

But in spite of this, they paid no attention to his words. Thereupon
the Exalted One related the following Story of the Past:

_6. Brahmadatta and the Prince._

_Love your enemies._

Vinaya i. 342-349.

In olden times at Benāres, Brahmadatta king of Kāsi was rich, possessed of great wealth, ample means of enjoyment, a mighty army, many vehicles, an extensive kingdom, and well filled treasuries and storehouses. Dīghīti king of Kosala was poor, possessed of meagre wealth, scanty means of enjoyment, a small army, few vehicles, a little kingdom, and unfilled treasuries and storehouses.

Now Brahmadatta king of Kāsi drew up his fourfold army and went up against Dīghīti king of Kosala. And Dīghīti king of Kosala heard: “Brahmadatta king of Kāsi, they say, has drawn up his fourfold army, and is come up against me.” Then to Dīghīti king of Kosala occurred the following thought: “Brahmadatta king of Kāsi is rich, possessed of great wealth, ample means of enjoyment, a mighty army, many vehicles, an extensive kingdom, and well filled treasuries and storehouses. But I am poor, possessed of meagre wealth, scanty means of enjoyment, a small army, few vehicles, a little kingdom, and unfilled treasuries and storehouses. I am not strong enough to withstand even a single clash with Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. Suppose I were merely to countermarch and slip out of the city!”

Accordingly Dīghīti king of Kosala took his consort, merely countermarched, and slipped out of the city. Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi conquered the army and vehicles and territory and treasuries and storehouses of Dīghīti king of Kosala, and took possession. And Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort set out for Benāres, and in due course arrived at Benāres. And there, in a certain place on the outskirts of Benāres, Dīghīti king of Kosala resided with his consort, in a potter’s dwelling, in disguise, in the guise of a wandering ascetic.

Now in no very long time the consort of Dīghīti king of Kosala was with child. And this was her craving: She desired at sunrise to see a fourfold army drawn up, clad in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and to drink the rinsings of swords. Accordingly the consort of Dīghīti king of Kosala said this to Dīghīti king of Kosala: “I am with child, O king. And this craving has arisen within me: I desire at sunrise to see a fourfold army drawn up, clad in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and to drink the rinsings of swords.” “Whence are we, wretched folk, to obtain a fourfold army drawn up, clad in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and the rinsings of swords?” “If, O king, I do not obtain my desire, I shall die.”

Now at that time the Brahman who was the house-priest of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi was a friend of Dīghīti king of Kosala. Accordingly Dīghīti king of Kosala approached the Brahman who was the house-priest of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. And having approached, he said this to the Brahman who was the house-priest of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “Sir, your female friend is with child. And this craving has arisen within her: She desires at sunrise to see a fourfold army drawn up, clad in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and to drink the rinsings of swords.” “Very well, O king, we also will see the queen.”

Now the consort of Dīghīti king of Kosala approached the Brahman who was the house-priest of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. The Brahman who was the house-priest of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi saw the consort of Dīghīti king of Kosala approaching even from afar. And seeing her, he rose from his seat, adjusted his upper robe so as to cover one shoulder only, and bending his joined hands in reverent salutation before the consort of Dīghīti king of Kosala, thrice breathed forth the utterance: “All hail! A king of Kosala shall be born of thee! All hail! A king of Kosala shall be born of thee!” Then he said: “Be not distressed, O queen. You shall obtain your desire to see at sunrise a fourfold army drawn up, clad in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and to drink the rinsings of swords.”

Thereupon the Brahman who was the house-priest of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi approached Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. And having approached, he said this to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “Thus, O king, the signs appear: To-morrow at sunrise let the fourfold army be drawn up, clad in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and let the swords be washed.” Accordingly Brahmadatta king of Kāsi ordered his men: “Do as the Brahman who is my house-priest has said.” Thus the consort of Dīghīti king of Kosala obtained her desire to see at sunrise a fourfold army drawn up, clad in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and to drink the rinsings of swords. And when that unborn child had reached maturity, the consort of Dīghīti king of Kosala brought forth a son, and they called his name Dīghāvu. And in no very long time Prince Dīghāvu reached the age of reason.

Now to Dīghīti king of Kosala occurred the following thought: “This Brahmadatta king of Kāsi has done us much injury. He has robbed us of army and vehicles and territory and treasuries and storehouses. If he recognizes us, he will cause all three of us to be put to death. Suppose I were to cause Prince Dīghāvu to dwell outside of the city!” Accordingly Dīghīti king of Kosala caused Prince Dīghāvu to dwell outside of the city. And Prince Dīghāvu, residing outside of the city, in no very long time acquired all the arts and crafts.

Now at that time the barber of Dīghīti king of Kosala resided at the court of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. The barber of Dīghīti king of Kosala saw Dīghīti king of Kosala residing with his consort in a certain place on the outskirts of Benāres, in a potter’s dwelling, in disguise, in the guise of a wandering ascetic. When he saw him, he approached Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. And having approached, he said this to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “O king, Dīghīti king of Kosala is residing with his consort in a certain place on the outskirts of Benāres, in a potter’s dwelling, in disguise, in the guise of a wandering ascetic.”

Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi ordered his men: “Now then, bring Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort before me.” “Yes, your majesty,” said those men to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi; and in obedience to his command brought Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort before him. Then Brahmadatta king of Kāsi ordered his men: “Now then, take Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort, bind their arms tight behind their backs with a stout rope, shave their heads, and to the loud beating of a drum lead them about from street to street, from crossing to crossing, conduct them out of the South gate, hack their bodies into four pieces south of the city, and throw the pieces in the four directions.”

“Yes, your majesty,” said those men to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi; and in obedience to his command took Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort, bound their arms tight behind their backs with a stout rope, shaved their heads, and to the loud beating of a drum led them about from street to street, from crossing to crossing.

Now to Prince Dīghāvu occurred the following thought: “It is a long time since I have seen my mother and father. Suppose I were to see my mother and father!” Accordingly Prince Dīghāvu entered Benāres, and saw his mother and father, their arms bound tight behind their backs, their heads shaven, being led about, to the loud beating of a drum, from street to street, from crossing to crossing. When he saw this, he approached his mother and father.

Dīghīti king of Kosala saw Prince Dīghāvu approaching even from afar. When he saw him, he said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “Dear Dīghāvu, do not look long! Do not look short! For, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by love.”

At these words those men said this to Dīghīti king of Kosala: “This Dīghīti king of Kosala is stark mad, and talks gibberish. Who is Dīghāvu to him? To whom did he speak thus: ‘Dear Dīghāvu, do not look long! Do not look short! For, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by love’?” “I am not stark mad, I assure you, nor do I talk gibberish. However, he that is intelligent will understand clearly.” For the second and the third time Dīghīti king of Kosala spoke thus to Prince Dīghāvu, and those men spoke thus to Dīghīti king of Kosala.

Then those men led Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort about from street to street, from crossing to crossing, conducted them out of the South gate, hacked their bodies into four pieces south of the city, threw the pieces in the four directions, posted a guard of soldiers, and departed.

Thereupon Prince Dīghāvu entered Benāres, procured liquor, and gave it to the soldiers to drink. When they were drunk and had fallen, he gathered sticks of wood, built a pyre, placed the bodies of his mother and father on the pyre, lighted it, and with joined hands upraised in reverent salutation thrice made sunwise circuit of the pyre.

Now at that time Brahmadatta king of Kāsi was on an upper floor of his splendid palace. And Brahmadatta king of Kāsi saw Prince Dīghāvu, with joined hands upraised in reverent salutation, thrice making sunwise circuit of the pyre. When he saw this, the following thought occurred to him: “Without doubt that man is a kinsman or blood-relative of Dīghīti king of Kosala. Alas, my wretched misfortune, for no one will tell me the facts!”

Now Prince Dīghāvu went to the forest, wailed and wept his fill, and wiped his tears away. Then he entered Benāres, went to the elephant-stable adjoining the royal palace, and said this to the elephant-trainer: “Trainer, I wish to learn your art.” “Very well, young man, learn it.” Accordingly Prince Dīghāvu rose at night, at time of dawn, and sang and played the lute with charming voice in the elephant-stable.

Brahmadatta king of Kāsi heard him as he rose at night, at time of dawn, and sang and played the lute with charming voice in the elephant-stable. Hearing him, he asked his men: “Who was it, pray, that rose at night, at time of dawn, and sang and played the lute with charming voice in the elephant-stable?” “Your majesty, it was a young man, the pupil of such-and-such an elephant-trainer, who rose at night, at time of dawn, and sang and played the lute with charming voice in the elephant-stable.” “Very well, bring that young man to me.” “Yes, your majesty,” said those men to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi; and in obedience to his command brought Prince Dīghāvu to him.

“Was it you, young man, who rose at night, at time of dawn, and sang and played the lute with charming voice in the elephant-stable?” “Yes, your majesty.” “Very well, young man, sing and play the lute for me.” “Yes, your majesty,” said Prince Dīghāvu to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi; and in obedience to his command, desiring to win his favor, sang and played the lute with charming voice.

Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “You, young man, may wait upon me.” “Yes, your majesty,” said Prince Dīghāvu to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi, and obeyed his command. And Prince Dīghāvu rose in advance of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi, retired after him, obeyed his every command, conducted himself in a pleasing manner, spoke in a friendly manner. And in no very long time Brahmadatta king of Kāsi appointed Prince Dīghāvu to a highly confidential position.

Now Brahmadatta king of Kāsi said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “Now then, young man, harness the chariot; I wish to go a-hunting.” “Yes, your majesty,” said Prince Dīghāvu to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. And having, in obedience to the king’s command, harnessed the chariot, he said this to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “Your majesty, the chariot is harnessed for you; do as you think fit.” Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi mounted the chariot; Prince Dīghāvu drove the chariot. In such wise did he drive the chariot that the army went one way, the chariot the other.

Now when he had gone a long way, Brahmadatta king of Kāsi said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “Now then, young man, unharness the chariot. I am tired: I wish to lie down.” “Yes, your majesty,” said Prince Dīghāvu to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi; and in obedience to his command unharnessed the chariot and sat down on the ground cross-legged. And Brahmadatta king of Kāsi lay down, placing his head in Prince Dīghāvu’s lap. So tired was he that in the mere fraction of a moment he fell asleep.

Thereupon to Prince Dīghāvu occurred the following thought: “This Brahmadatta king of Kāsi has done us much injury. He has robbed us of army and vehicles and territory and treasuries and storehouses. And he has killed my mother and father. This would be the very time for me to satisfy my hatred!” And he drew sword from sheath. Then to Prince Dīghāvu occurred the following thought: “My father said to me in the hour of death: ‘Dear Dīghāvu, do not look long! Do not look short! For, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by love.’ It is not fitting that I should transgress the command of my father.” And he returned sword to sheath. And this happened a second time, and a third time.

Suddenly Brahmadatta king of Kāsi rose, frightened, agitated, alarmed, terrified. Thereupon Prince Dīghāvu said this to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “Why, your majesty, did you rise so suddenly, frightened, agitated, alarmed, terrified?” “Right here, young man, Prince Dīghāvu, son of Dīghīti king of Kosala, fell upon me with his sword in a dream. Therefore I rose suddenly, frightened, agitated, alarmed, terrified.”

Then Prince Dīghāvu, stroking the head of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi with his left hand, and drawing his sword with his right hand, said this to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “I, your majesty, am Prince Dīghāvu, son of Dīghīti king of Kosala. You have done us much injury. You have robbed us of army and vehicles and territory and treasuries and storehouses. And you have killed my mother and father. This would be the very time for me to satisfy my hatred!”

Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi prostrated himself on his face at the feet of Prince Dīghāvu, and said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “Grant me my life, dear Dīghāvu! Grant me my life, dear Dīghāvu!” “How have I the power to grant your majesty your life? Your majesty, however, might grant me my life.” “Very well, dear Dīghāvu. You grant me my life, and I will grant you your life.” Then Brahmadatta king of Kāsi and Prince Dīghāvu granted each other their lives and shook hands and swore an oath not to injure each other.

Then Brahmadatta king of Kāsi said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “Now then, dear Dīghāvu, harness the chariot; let us be going.” “Yes, your majesty,” said Prince Dīghāvu to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. And having, in obedience to the king’s command, harnessed the chariot, he said this to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “Your majesty, the chariot is harnessed for you; do as you think fit.” Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi mounted the chariot; Prince Dīghāvu drove the chariot. In such wise did he drive the chariot that in no very long time he came up with the army.

Then Brahmadatta king of Kāsi entered Benāres, caused the ministers of his council to be assembled, and said this: “If, sirs, you were to see Prince Dīghāvu, son of Dīghīti king of Kosala, what would you do to him?” Some spoke thus: “We, your majesty, would cut off his hands.” Others spoke thus: “We, your majesty, would cut off his feet.” “We would cut off his hands and feet.” “We would cut off his ears.” “We would cut off his nose.” “We would cut off his ears and nose.” “We, your majesty, would cut off his head.” “Sirs, this is Prince Dīghāvu, son of Dīghīti king of Kosala; it is not permissible to do anything to him. He has granted me my life, and I have granted him his life.”

Then Brahmadatta king of Kāsi said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “When, dear Dīghāvu, your father said to you in the hour of death: ‘Dear Dīghāvu, do not look long! Do not look short! For, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by love,’ what did your father mean by that?” “When, your majesty, my father said to me in the hour of death: ‘Not long,’ what he meant was: ‘Do not cherish hatred long.’ This, your majesty, is what my father meant when he said to me in the hour of death: ‘Not long.’ When, your majesty, my father said to me in the hour of death: ‘Not short,’ what he meant was: ‘Do not break with your friends quickly.’ This, your majesty, is what my father meant when he said to me in the hour of death: ‘Not short.’

“When, your majesty, my father said to me in the hour of death: ‘For, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by love,’ what he meant to have me understand was this: Your majesty has killed my mother and father. Were I to deprive your majesty of life, your majesty’s well-wishers would deprive me of life, and my well-wishers would deprive yours of life. Thus that hatred would not be quenched by hatred. But as matters stand, your majesty has granted me my life, and I have granted your majesty his life. Thus hatred has been quenched by love. This, your majesty, is what my father meant when he said to me in the hour of death: ‘For, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by love.’”

Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi exclaimed: “O how wonderful, O how marvelous, that this Prince Dīghāvu should understand in its fulness a matter which his father expressed so briefly!” And he restored to him the army and vehicles and territory and treasuries and storehouses of his fathers, and gave him his daughter in marriage.

“For, monks, of these kings who took the rod, who took the sword,
such is said to have been the patience and gentleness. How much more,
monks, should you, who have retired from the world under a Doctrine
and Discipline so well taught, let your light so shine in this world
as to be known of men as patient and gentle.” And for the third
time the Exalted One said this to those monks: “Enough, monks! No
quarreling! No brawling! No contending! No wrangling!”

_7. Antelope, Woodpecker, Tortoise, and Hunter._

_In union there is strength._

Jātaka 206: ii. 152-155.

On a certain occasion the Teacher 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. Moreover 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.

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 sha’n’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 woodpecker 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 coming 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. Rending 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 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.

_8. 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 remarkable 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, 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 existence as the child of his chief consort. On his name-day he was given 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 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 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 stingy 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.

_9. A Buddhist Tar-Baby._

_Keep the Precepts._

Jātaka 55: i. 272-275.

_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 existence as the child 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 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 dust!” He struck him with his head. That also stuck right to the ogre’s hair.