Buddhist Legends: Books 1–26

9 c. Story of the Past: Kappata and the donkey

Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta reigned in Benāres, there dwelt at Benāres a merchant named Kappata. Now Kappata had a donkey which used to carry loads of pottery for him, and every day he used to go a journey of seven leagues. On a certain occasion Kappata loaded his donkey down with a load of pottery and took him to Takkasila. While he was engaged in disposing of his wares, he allowed the donkey to run loose. As the donkey wandered along the bank of a ditch, he saw a female of his species and straightway went up to her. She gave him a friendly greeting and said to him, “Where have you come from?” “From Benāres.” “On what errand?” “On business.” “How big a load do you carry?” “A big load of pottery.” “How many leagues do you travel, carrying a big load like that?” “Seven leagues.” “In the various places you visit, is there anyone to rub your feet and your back?” “No.” “If that’s the case, you must have a mighty hard time.”

(Of course animals have no one to rub their feet and their back; she said this merely to join bonds of love between them.)

As the result of her talk, the donkey became dissatisfied. After the merchant had disposed of his wares, he returned to the donkey and said to him, “Come, Jack, let’s be off.” “Go yourself; I won’t go.” [124] Over and over again the merchant tried with gentle words to persuade him to go; and when, in spite of his efforts, the donkey remained balky, he vented abuse upon him. Finally he thought to himself, “I know a way to make him go,” and pronounced the following Stanza,

I will make a goad for you, with a sixteen-inch thorn;

I will cut your body to shreds; know this, donkey.

When the donkey heard that, he said, “In that case I shall know just what to do to you.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

You say you will make a goad for me, with a sixteen-inch thorn. Very well!

In that case I will plant my fore feet, let fly with my hind feet,

And knock out your teeth; know that, Kappata.

When the merchant heard that, he thought to himself, “What can be the reason for his talking thus?” The merchant looked this way and that, and finally his eyes fell upon the female. “Ah!” thought the merchant to himself, “she must have taught him these tricks. I will say to the donkey, ‘I will bring you home a mate like that.’ Thus, by employing the lure of the opposite sex, I will make him go.” Accordingly he pronounced the following Stanza,

A four-footed female, with face like mother-of-pearl, possessed of all the marks of beauty,

Will I bring to you to be your mate; know that, donkey.

When the donkey heard that, his heart rejoiced, and he replied with the following Stanza,

So “a four-footed female, with face like mother-of-pearl, possessed of all the marks of beauty,”

You will bring to me to be my mate; in that case, Kappata,

Whereas hitherto I have traveled seven leagues a day, hereafter, I will travel fourteen leagues. [125]

“Well then,” said Kappata, “come!” And taking the donkey with him, he went back to the place where he had left the cart.

After a few days the donkey said to him, “Didn’t you say to me, ‘I will bring you a mate’?” The merchant replied, “Yes, I said just that, and I will not break my word; I will bring you home a mate. But I will provide food only for you. It may or may not be enough for both you and your mate, but that is a matter for you alone to decide. After you both have lived together, foals will be born to you. The food I shall give you may or may not be enough for both you and your mate and your foals too, but that is a matter for you alone to decide.” As the merchant spoke these words, the donkey lost his desire.

When the Teacher had ended his lesson, he concluded the Jātaka as follows, “At that time, monks, the female donkey was Janapada-Kaḷyānī, the male donkey was Nanda, and the merchant was I myself. In former times, too, Nanda was won to obedience by the lure of the female sex.”

I. 10. CUNDA THE PORK-BUTCHER

Here he suffers. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Veḷuvana with reference to Cunda the pork-butcher.

The story goes that for fifty-five years Cunda made his living by killing pigs which he then either used for food or marketed. In time

1 Text: N i. 125-129.

of famine he would go to the country with his cart filled with rice, [126] and return with it filled with shotes bought in villages for a mere pint-pot or two of rice apiece. Back of his house he had a plot of ground fenced off as a sort of pigsty, and there he kept his pigs, feeding them all kinds of shrubs and excrement.

Whenever he wanted to kill a pig, he would fasten the pig securely to a post and pound him with a square club to make his flesh swell plump and tender. Then, forcing open the pig’s jaws and inserting a little wedge in his mouth, he would pour down his throat boiling hot water from a copper boiler. The hot water would penetrate the pig’s belly, loosening the excrement, and would pass out through the anus, carrying boiling hot excrement with it. So long as there was even a little excrement left in the pig’s belly, the water would come out stained and turbid; but as soon as the pig’s belly was clean, the water would come out pure and clear.

The rest of the water he would pour over the pig’s back, and the water would peel off the black skin as it ran off. Then he would singe off the bristles with a torch. Finally, he would cut off the pig’s head with a sharp sword. As the blood gushed forth, he would catch it in a dish; then he would roast the pig, basting it with the blood he had caught. Then he would sit down with his son and his wife and eat the pig. Whatever meat was left over, he would sell. In this way he made a living for fifty-five years. Although the Teacher was in residence at a neighboring monastery, not on a single day did Cunda do him honor by offering him so much as a handful of flowers or a spoonful of rice, nor did he do a single work of merit besides.

One day he was attacked by a malady, [127] and while he yet remained alive, the fire of the Great Hell of Avīci uprose before him. (The fire of Avīci is a consuming torment able to destroy the eyes of one who stands a hundred leagues away and looks at it. Indeed, it has been described 1 in this wise, “For ever and ever it shoots forth its flames continually a hundred leagues in all directions.” Moreover, the Elder Nagasena 2 employed the following simile to show how much more intense is its heat than that of ordinary fire, “Great king, reflect that a rock even as big as a pagoda goes to destruction in the fire of Hell in but an instant. However, living beings who are reborn there, through the effect of their past deeds, suffer not destruction, but are as though they reposed in their mothers’ wombs.”)

1 Anguttara, iii. 35: i. 142. « Milindapanha, 67x-x, «x-x».

When the torment of the Great Hell of Avīci uprose before the pork-butcher Cunda, his mode of behavior was altered in correspondence with his past deeds. Even as he remained within his house, he began to grunt like a pig and to crawl about on his hands and knees, first to the front of the house and then to the rear. The men of his household overpowered him and gagged him. But in spite of all they did (since it is impossible for anyone to prevent a man’s past deeds from bearing fruit), he kept crawling back and forth, grunting like a pig continually.

Not a person was able to sleep in the seven houses round about. The members of his own household, terrified by the fear of death, unable otherwise to prevent him from going out, barricaded the doors of the house that he might not be able to go out, but might be confined within. Having so done, they surrounded the house and stood on guard. Back and forth for seven days crawled Cunda within his house, suffering the torment of Hell, grunting and squealing like a pig. Having thus crawled about for a period of seven days, he died on the seventh day and was reborn in the Great Hell of Avīci. (The Great Hell of Avīci is to be described in the terms of the Devaduta Suttanta.1)

Some monks who passed the door of his house [128] heard the noise, and thinking it was merely the noise of the grunting and squealing of pigs, went on to the monastery, seated themselves in the presence of the Teacher, and said to him, “Reverend Sir, for seven days the door of Cunda the pork-butcher’s house has been closed, and for seven days the killing of pigs has gone on; doubtless he intends to give some entertainment. Think, Reverend Sir, how many pigs he has killed! Evidently he has not a single thought of loving-kindness and lacks utterly the sentiment of compassion. So cruel and savage a being has never been known before.”

Said the Teacher, “Monks, he has not been killing pigs these seven days. Retribution in harmony with his past deeds has overtaken him. Even while he yet remained alive, the torment of the Great Hell of Avīci uprose before him. By reason of this torment he crawled hither and thither in his house for seven days, grunting and squealing like a pig. To-day he died, and was reborn in the Avīci hell.” When the Teacher had thus spoken, the monks said, “Reverend Sir, having suffered thus here in this world, he went again to a place of suffering

1 Majjhima, 130: iii. 178-187; cf. AnguUara, i. 138-142 (translated by Warren, Buddhism in Translations, pp. 255-259).

and was there reborn.” “Yes, monks,” replied the Teacher. “He that is heedless, be he layman or monk, suffers in both places equally.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

15. Here he suffers; after death he suffers: the evildoer suffers in both places.

He suffers, he is afflicted, seeing the impurity of his own past deeds.

I. 11. THE RIGHTEOUS LAY BROTHER

Here he rejoices. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to a righteous lay brother. [129]

At Sāvatthi, we are told, lived five hundred righteous lay brethren, each with a retinue of five hundred lay brethren. The senior layman had seven sons and seven daughters. Each of these sons gave regularly ticket-porridge, ticket-food, food of the waning moon, food of the new moon, invitation-food, fast-day food, visitors’ food, and food of the season of the rains. All of them were “later born,” so that the layman and his wife and fourteen children maintained sixteen forms of alms. And the layman, virtuous, upright, together with son and wife, took delight in the distribution of alms.

After a time the layman was attacked by a disease, and his vital forces began to decay. [130] Desiring to hear the Law, he sent word to the Teacher, “Send me eight or sixteen monks.” The Teacher sent them, and they straightway went and gathered around his bed and sat down on seats prepared for them. “Reverend Sirs,” said the layman, “it will be difficult for me to see you, for I am weak; rehearse me but a single Sutta.” “Which Sutta would you like to hear, lay brother?” “The Satipaṭṭhāna Sutta,2 common to all the Buddhas.” Accordingly they began to rehearse the Sutta, beginning with the words, “There is this one Way, monks, this one Path which leads to the Salvation of living beings.”

At that moment, from the Six Worlds of the Gods, approached six chariots a hundred and fifty leagues long, drawn by a thousand Sindh horses, adorned with all the adornments. In each chariot stood a deity, and each deity spoke and said, “Permit us to convey you to our celestial world.” And they spoke again and said, “Even as one shatters a clay vessel and replaces it with a vessel of gold, even so are

1 Text: N i. 129-132. 2 Digha, 22; Majjhima, 10.

living beings reborn to take their pleasure in our celestial world.” The lay disciple, unwilling to be interrupted in listening to the Law, said, “Wait! wait!” The monks, thinking that he was speaking to them, ceased their recitation of the Law. His sons and daughters cried out, “Formerly our father could never hear enough of the Law. But now, after summoning the monks and directing them to rehearse the Law, he stops them himself. After all, there is no man who does not fear death.” The monks said to each other, “This is no time for us to remain.” And forthwith they arose and departed.

After a time the layman recovered his attention and asked his sons, “Why do you weep?” “Dear father,” said they, “you sent for the monks, and even as you listened to the Law, you yourself stopped them from rehearsing the Law. We weep to think, ‘After all, there is no man who does not fear death.’” [131] “But where are the noble monks?” “They said to each other, ‘This is no time for us to remain.’ And forthwith they arose from their seats and departed.” “Dear sons, I was not speaking to the noble monks.” “With whom, then, were you talking, dear father?” “From the Six Worlds of the Gods six deities approached in six magnificently adorned chariots, and standing in their chariots poised in the air, they said to me, ‘Take your pleasure in our celestial world; take your pleasure in our celestial world.’ I was talking with them.” “Dear father, where are the chariots? We do not see them.” “Have I any wreaths of flowers?” “Yes, dear father.” “Which celestial world is the most delightful?” “Dear father, the most delightful is the World of the Tusita gods, the abode of the mothers and fathers of the Buddhas and of all the Future Buddhas.” “Well then, throw a wreath of flowers and say, ‘Let this wreath of flowers cling to the chariot which came from the World of the Tusita gods.’”

Accordingly the children of the layman threw the wreath of flowers, and it clung to the pole of the chariot and hung suspended in the air. The populace saw the wreath of flowers suspended in the air, but did not see the chariot. Said the lay disciple, “Do you see this wreath of flowers?” “Yes, we see it.” “This wreath hangs suspended from the chariot which came from the World of the Tusita gods. I am going to the World of the Tusita gods; be not disturbed. If you desire to be reborn with me, do works of merit even as I have done.” And when he had thus spoken, he died and set foot in the chariot. Immediately he was reborn as a deity three-quarters of a league in stature, adorned with sixty cartloads of ornaments. A retinue of a thousand celestial nymphs attended him, and a golden mansion twenty-five leagues in extent became visible.

When those monks reached the monastery, the Teacher asked them, “Monks, did the lay disciple hearken to the recitation of the Law?” “Yes, Reverend Sir. But in the midst of the recitation he cried out, ‘Wait! wait!’ and stopped us. Then his sons and daughters began to weep, [132] whereupon we said to each other, ‘This is no time for us to remain,’ and arose from our seats and departed.” “Monks, he was not talking to you. From the Six Worlds of the Gods six deities approached in six magnificently adorned chariots, and they summoned that lay disciple to go with them; but the lay disciple, unwilling that the recitation of the Law should be interrupted, spoke to them.” “Is that true, Reverend Sir?” “That is true, monks.” “Reverend Sir, where was he reborn just now?” “In the World of the Tusita gods, monks.”

“Reverend Sir, but recently he lived here among his kinsfolk rejoicing, and just now he went again to a place of rejoicing and was there reborn.” “Yes, monks. They that are heedful, be they laymen or monks, rejoice in both places equally.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

16. Here he rejoices; after death he rejoices: he that has done good works rejoices in both places.

He rejoices, he rejoices exceedingly, seeing the purity of his own past deeds.

I. 12. DEVADATTA’S CAREER

Here he suffers. [133] This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while in residence at Jetavana with reference to Devadatta. The story of Devadatta, from the time he became a monk to the time the earth opened and swallowed him up, is related in all the Jātakas.1 The following is a synopsis of the story:

12 a. Retirement from the world of the six princes

While the Teacher was in residence at Anupiya Mango-grove, which lies near Anupiya, a market-town of the Mallas, eighty thousand

1 i. 12 is for the most part derived from Vinaya, Culla Vagga, vii. 1-4. With i. 12 a, cf. XXV. 12 b. With i. 12 b, cf. Hardy, Manual of Buddhism, pp. 326-333, 337-840. Text: N i. 133-150. 2 See Jātakas 542: vi. 129-131; 533: v. 333-337; 466: iv. 158-159; 404: iii. 355-858.

kinsmen one day recognized on him the Characteristics of a Tathāgata, and eighty thousand youths asserted, “Let him be a king or a Buddha, he will spend his days surrounded by a retinue of Warrior-princes.” After all but six of these youths had retired from the world and become monks, the company of princes, observing that the six Sakyan princes, King Bhaddiya, Anuruddha, Ānanda, Bhagu, Kimbila, and Devadatta, had not yet retired from the world, discussed the matter as follows, “We admit only our own sons to the Order. But of course these six Sakyan princes are not kinsmen of the Buddha. For this reason, doubtless, they have not retired from the world and become monks.” Now one day the Sakyan prince Mahānāma approached Anuruddha and said, “Friend, there isn’t one of our family who has become a monk. You become a monk and I will follow your example.”

Now Anuruddha is said to have been brought up in such softness and luxury that he had never heard the word isn’t before. For example, one day these six Sakyan princes engaged in a game of marbles. Anuruddha staked cakes on the result, proved a loser, and sent home for cakes. His mother prepared cakes and sent them. [134] The princes ate the cakes and resumed their play. Anuruddha lost repeatedly. Three times in all his mother sent him cakes. The fourth time she sent back word, “There isn’t cake to send. Now Anuruddha had never before heard the word isn’t. Therefore, supposing that this must be a variety of cake, he sent the man back, saying to him, “Fetch me some isn’t cakes. When his mother received the message, “Then, my lady, send me some isn’t cakes,” she thought to herself, “My son has never heard the word isn’t before. By this means, however, I can teach him the meaning of it.” So she took an empty golden bowl, covered it with another golden bowl, and sent it to her son.

The guardian deities of the city thought, “When Anuruddha the Sakyan was Annabhara, he gave food that was his own portion to the Private Buddha Upariṭṭha, making the Earnest Wish, ‘May I never hear the word isn’t; may I never know where food comes from.’ Now if he sees the empty bowl, we shall never be able to enter the assembly of the gods; it may even happen that our heads will split into seven pieces.” So they filled the bowl with celestial cakes. As soon as the bowl was set down on the round platter uncovered, the fragrance of the cakes permeated the entire city. Moreover, the moment a morsel of cake was placed in the mouth, it thrilled the seven thousand nerves of taste. Anuruddha thought to himself, “My mother does not love me; all this time she has never fried this isn’t cake for me. [135] From this time forth I shall eat no other kind of cake.” So he went home and asked his mother, “Mother, do you love me or do you not?” “My dear son, even as the eye is dear to one who possesses but one eye, and even as the heart, so are you exceedingly dear to me.” “Then, dear mother, why is it that all this time you have not fried isn’t cake for me?” Said the mother to her little page, “Boy, is there nothing in the bowl?” “My lady, the plate is filled to overflowing with cakes, and with such cakes as I have never seen before.” The mother thought to herself, “It must be that my son has acquired great merit; it must be that he has made an Earnest Wish; deities must have filled the plate with cakes and sent them.” Said the son to the mother, “Dear mother, from this time forth I will eat no other kind of cake than this; henceforth, I pray you, fry isn’t cake alone for me.” From that time forth, whenever her son said, “I should like some cakes to eat,” she would send a bowl absolutely empty, covered with another bowl. So long as he continued to live at home, during all that time deities sent him celestial cakes. Since Anuruddha was so unsophisticated as all this, how could he be expected to know the meaning of the expression becoming a monk?

For this reason, therefore, he asked his brother, “What is this becoming a monk?” His brother replied, “The life of a monk involves cutting off the hair and beard, sleeping with indifference whether in a thorn-brake or in a fine bed, and going the rounds for alms,” Anuruddha replied, “Brother, I am exceedingly delicate; I shall never be able [136] to become a monk.” “Very well, my dear brother, then learn farming and live the life of a householder. But at least one of us must become a monk.” Then said Anuruddha, “What is this farming?”

How could you expect a youth to know the meaning of the word farming who did not know where food comes from? For example, on a certain day a discussion arose among the three princes Kimbila, Bhaddiya, and Anuruddha as to where food comes from. Kimbila said, “It comes from the barn.” Bhaddiya said to him, “You do not know where food comes from; it comes from the boiler,” Anuruddha said, “Both of you together do not know where food comes from. It comes from a golden bowl with jeweled knob.”

We are told that one day Kimbila saw rice being removed from a barn, and immediately formed the opinion, “These grains of rice were produced in the barn.” Likewise one day Bhaddiya saw food being taken out of a boiler, and formed the opinion, “It was produced in, the boiler.” Anuruddha, however, had never seen men pounding rice or boiling it or taking it out of the boiler, but had seen it only after it had been taken out of the boiler and set before him. So Anuruddha formed the opinion, “When one desires to eat, food makes its appearance in a golden bowl.” Such was the ignorance of all three princes as to where food comes from.

Now when Anuruddha asked the question, “What is this farming?” he received the following answer, “First the field must be plowed, and after that such and such other things must be done, and these things must be done year after year.” Said he to himself, “When will the duties connected with farming ever come to an end? When shall we ever have time to enjoy our possessions in peace?” And because it seemed to him that the duties connected with farming would never come to an end and never cease, he said to his brother, “Well then, if this is the case, you may live the life of a householder. But as for me, I have no use for it.” Accordingly he approached his mother [137] and said to her, “Mother, give me your permission; I wish to become a monk.”

Thrice Anuruddha requested his mother to give him permission to become a monk, and thrice she refused to do so. Finally she said to him, “If your friend King Bhaddiya will become a monk, then you may become a monk with him.” Accordingly he approached his friend Bhaddiya and said to him, “Friend, whether I shall become a monk or not is conditional upon your becoming a monk.” Anuruddha urged his friend Bhaddiya with every argument at his command to become a monk, and finally, on the seventh day, obtained Bhaddiya’s promise to become a monk with him.

So six princes of the Warrior caste, Bhaddiya, king of the Sakyans, Anuruddha, Ānanda, Bhagu, Kimbila, and Devadatta, accompanied by Upāli the barber as seventh man, for seven days enjoyed celestial glory like gods, and then set out with fourfold array, as though on their way to a pleasure-garden. When they reached foreign territory, they turned back their army by royal command, and then entered foreign territory. There each of the six princes removed his own ornaments, made a bundle of them, and gave them to Upāli, saying, “Now, Upāli, turn back. All this wealth will suffice to provide you with means of livelihood.” Upāli flung himself at their feet, rolled over and over on the ground, and wept bitterly. But not daring to disobey the order, he arose and turned back. When they parted, the forest wept, as it were, and the earth quaked, as it were.

When Upāli had gone a little way, he thought to himself, “Harsh and cruel are these Sakyans; they may kill me, thinking I have killed their brethren. These Sakyan princes have renounced all this splendor, have cast away these priceless ornaments like a mass of saliva, and intend to become monks; [138] why not I?” So saying, he untied the bundle, hung those ornaments on a tree, and said, “Let those who want them take them.” Having so done, he went to the Sakyan princes, and when they asked him why he had turned back, told them the whole story.

So the six Sakyan princes took Upāli the barber with them, went to the Teacher, and said to him, “We, Reverend Sir, are proud Sakyans. This man has been a servitor of ours for a long time. Admit him to the Order first; to him first we will offer respectful salutations; so will our pride be humbled.” Thus first did they cause Upāli the barber to be admitted to the Order, and after that entered the Order themselves.

Of the six Sakyan princes. Venerable Bhaddiya attained Threefold Knowledge in that very rainy season. Venerable Anuruddha attained Supernatural Vision, and after listening to the Sutta entitled “The Reflections of a Great Man,” attained Arahatship. Venerable Ānanda was established in the Fruit of Conversion. Elder Bhagu and Elder Kimbila subsequently developed Spiritual Insight and attained Arahatship. Devadatta attained the lower grade of Magic Power.

After a time, while the Teacher was in residence at Kosambi, rich gain and honor accrued to the Tathāgata and his company of disciples. Men entered the monastery bearing in their hands robes, medicines, and other offerings and asked, “Where is the Teacher? Where is the Elder Sāriputta? Where is the Elder Moggallāna? Where is the Elder Kassapa? Where is the Elder Bhaddiya? Where is the Elder Anuruddha? Where is the Elder Ānanda? Where is the Elder Bhagu? Where is the Elder Kimbila?” So saying, they went about looking at the places where sat the eighty Chief Disciples.

12 b. Devadatta’s wicked deeds

Since no one asked, “Where does the Elder Devadatta sit and stand?” Devadatta thought to himself, “I became a monk at the same time as these other monks. Even as they are men of the Warrior caste who have become monks, so also am I a man of the Warrior caste who have become a monk. [139] But whereas men bearing rich offerings seek out these monks, no one takes my name on his lips. With whom now can I make common cause? With whom can I ingratiate myself, that I may obtain gain and honor for myself?”

Then the following thought occurred to him, “This King Bimbisāra, on the day when he first saw the Buddha, became established in the Fruit of Conversion, together with eleven nahutas of men besides; I cannot make common cause with him. Neither can I make common cause with the king of Kosala. But this king’s son Ajātasattu knows no one’s good qualities or bad qualities; I will make common cause with him.” Accordingly Devadatta departed from Kosambi to Rājagaha, transformed himself into a youth, put four snakes on his hands and feet, put one snake about his neck, coiled one snake about his head as a cushion-rest, placed one snake on one shoulder, and thus arrayed in a girdle of snakes, he descended from the air and seated himself in Ajātasattu’s lap. Ajātasattu was frightened and said, “Who are you?” “I am Devadatta.” In order to dispel Ajātasattu’s fear, Devadatta changed his form, stood before Ajātasattu wearing the robe of a monk and carrying a monk’s bowl, ingratiated himself with Ajātasattu, and obtained for himself gain and honor.

Overcome with the gain and honor he received, Devadatta thought to himself, “It is I who ought to be at the head of the Congregation of Monks.” Once having allowed this evil thought to spring up in his breast, with the springing up of the evil thought Devadatta lost the power to work miracles. Now at this time the Teacher was preaching the Law to the Congregation at Veḷuvana monastery, and the king was among the Congregation. While the Exalted One was preaching the Law, Devadatta paid obeisance to him, and then rising from his seat, extended his hands in an attitude of reverent salutation and said, “Reverend Sir, the Exalted One is now worn out, stricken with years, and aged; let him live a pleasant life in this world, free from care. I will direct the Congregation of Monks; commit the Congregation of Monks to my hands.” [140] The Teacher, instead of consenting to the arrangement suggested by Devadatta, refused his request and called him a lick-spittle. Therefore Devadatta was highly indignant, and now for the first time conceiving hatred towards the Teacher, departed. The Teacher caused public proclamation to be made concerning Devadatta at Rājagaha.

Devadatta thought to himself, “Now I have been rejected by the monk Gotama; now I will make trouble for him.” With this thought in mind he approached Ajātasattu and said to him, “Youth, aforetime men were long-lived, but now they are short-lived. This makes it probable that you, being a prince, will soon die. Well then! You kill your father and become king, and I will kill the Exalted One and become Buddha.” So when Ajātasattu was established in his kingdom, Devadatta hired men to kill the Tathāgata. But the men he hired attained the Fruit of Conversion and turned back. Then Devadatta himself climbed Vulture Peak and said to himself, “I alone will deprive the monk Gotama of life.” So saying, he split off a piece of rock and hurled it down. But he succeeded only in drawing the Teacher’s blood. Failing in this way also to kill him, he next dispatched the elephant Nalagiri against the Teacher. When the elephant approached, the Elder Ānanda offered his own life in behalf of the Teacher and stood in the breach. The Teacher subdued the elephant, and then departed from the city and went to the monastery. After partaking of the offerings of food brought by countless thousands of lay disciples, he preached in due course to the residents of Rājagaha, one hundred and eighty millions in number, and eighty-four thousand living beings obtained Comprehension of the Law. Said the monks, “How noble is the Venerable Ānanda! When so mighty an elephant approached, he offered his own life [141] and stood in front of the Teacher.” The Teacher, hearing the Elder praised in this wise, said, “Monks, this is not the first time he has renounced his life for my sake; he did the same thing in a previous state of existence,” And in response to a request of the monks he related the Culla Haṁsa,1 Mahā Haṁsa,1 and Kakkaṭa 1 Jātakas.

Devadatta’s wickedness did not by any means become so notorious from his having compassed the king’s death nor from his hiring murderers to kill the Tathāgata nor from his splitting off the piece of rock, as it did from his letting loose the elephant Nalagiri. For upon that, the people raised a tumult and said, “Devadatta alone had the king killed and hired murderers and cast down the rock. But now he has turned the elephant Nalagiri loose. Behold what manner of evildoer the king has on his hands!” The king then, hearing the words of the populace, caused Devadatta’s five hundred cooking-vessels to be removed and did not thereafter minister to his wants. Likewise the citizens did not so much as offer food to him when he came to their houses.

When he had thus lost gain and honor, he determined to live by

1 Jātaka 533: v. 333-354. 2 Jātaka 534: v. 354-382. 3 Jātaka 267: ii. 341-345.

deceit. Therefore he approached the Teacher and made the Five Demands. But the Teacher rejected his demands, saying, “Enough, Devadatta! Whoever so desires, let him be a forest hermit.” “Brethren, whose words are the nobler, the words of the Tathāgata or the words which I myself have uttered? Very well, Reverend Sir, all their life long monks should be forest-dwellers, beggars, wearers of rags from a dust-heap, living at the foot of a tree, eating neither fish nor flesh. Whosoever desires release from suffering, let him come with me.” So saying, Devadatta departed. [142]

Some monks who had but recently retired from the world and who possessed little intelligence, hearing his words, said, “Devadatta spoke fair; let us join him.” So they joined him. Thus Devadatta with his five hundred monks sought to persuade all manner of people, both hardened and believing, to accept the Five Points. And living by soliciting food from various families, he strove to create a schism in the Order. The Exalted One asked him, “Devadatta, is it true, as men say, that you are striving to create schism and heresy in the Order?” “It is true,” replied Devadatta. Said the Teacher, “Devadatta, it is a grievous thing to create a schism in the Order.” Continuing, the Teacher admonished him at length. But Devadatta paid no attention to the Teacher’s words. He went forth, and seeing the Venerable Elder Ānanda going his round for alms in Rājagaha, said to him, “Brother Ānanda, from this day forth I shall keep Fast and Chapter apart from the Exalted One, apart from the Order.” The Elder told the Exalted One. When the Teacher realized the fact, he was filled with righteous indignation and said to himself, “Devadatta is doing that which will be of no profit to him in the Worlds of the Gods and the world of men; that which will cause him to be tormented in the Avīci hell.” And he reflected,

Easy to do are deeds that are evil, deeds that bring harm.

But the deed that brings welfare, the deed that is good, that truly is hard to do.

Having pronounced this Stanza, he then breathed forth the following Solemn Utterance,

Easy to do for the good is the good; the good for the evil man is hard.

Evil for the evil man is easy to do; evil for the noble is hard. 1

On Fast-day, as Devadatta sat on one side with his own retinue,’ he said, “Let whoever approves of these Five Points take a ticket.”

1 Uddna, v. 8.

[143] Five hundred Licchavi princes, novices having little gratitude, took tickets. Devadatta took these monks with him and went to Gayāsīsa. When the Teacher heard that he had gone there, he sent forth the two Chief Disciples to bring those monks back. The Chief Disciples went there, instructed the monks by performing miracles and wonders, caused them to drink the Deathless, and returned through the air, bringing them with them.

Said Kokālika, “Rise, brother Devadatta; Sāriputta and Moggallāna have carried off your monks. Do you not remember my saying to you, ‘Brother, trust not Sāriputta and Moggallāna’?” Said Devadatta, “Sāriputta and Moggallāna cherish evil desires, are under the control of evil desires.” As he spoke thus, he struck the center of his heart with his knee, and straightway hot blood burst forth from his mouth.

When the monks saw Venerable Sāriputta, surrounded by his retinue of monks, soaring through the air, they said, “Reverend Sir, when Venerable Sāriputta went hence, he went with but a single companion; but now he is returning resplendent with a great retinue.” Said the Teacher, “Monks, it is not the first time this has happened; when my son was reborn in the form of an animal, then also did he return to me resplendent.” So saying, he recited the Lakkhana Jātaka: 1

All goes well with the virtuous, with those whose disposition is friendly.

Behold Lakkhana returning at the head of a host of relatives; Then look upon yonder Kāḷa without relatives. [144]

Again said the monks, “Reverend Sir, they say that Devadatta seats a Chief Disciple on either side of him and imitates you, saying, ‘I will preach the Law with the grace of a Buddha.’” Said the Teacher, “Monks, this is not the first time he has so done; in a previous state of existence also he strove to imitate me, but was not able to do so.

Viraka, have you seen a sweet-voiced bird

With neck like that of a peacock, my husband Savitthaka?

Because he tried to imitate a bird that walks both on water and on land, Savitthaka became entangled in a sevala-plant and died.

Supplying the rest of the story, the Teacher related the Viraka Jātaka.2 On succeeding days, with reference to the same subject, the Teacher related the Kandagalaka 3 and Virocana 4 Jātakas:

1 Jātaka 11: i. 142-145. 2 Jātaka 204: ii. 148-150. 3 Jātaka 210: iL 162-164. 4 Jātaka 143: i. 490-493.

This garuda bird went through the woods pecking at trees whose branches were soft and rotten.

At last he came to an acacia-tree, whose wood is always sound, and broke his head. [145]

Your brains have run out, your head is split open.

All your ribs are broken; to-day you are a pretty sight!

Again one day, hearing the remark, “Devadatta was ungrateful,” the Teacher related the Java Sakuna Jātaka: 1

We did yon what service we could.

King of beasts, we render homage to you.

May we obtain some favor from you.

Seeing that I hold you fast between my jaws, I who feed upon blood,

I whose nature is to kill, it is a great deal that you yet live.

Again with reference to Devadatta’s going about for the purpose of slaying, he related the Kuruṅga Jātaka: 2

It is well known to the antelope, that you let drop the fruit of the sepaṇṇi.

Let us go to another sepaṇṇi; your tree likes me not.

Again when the discussion took this turn, “Devadatta fell away both from gain and honor and from the high position of a monk,” the Teacher said, “Monks, this is not the first time he has so fallen away; in a previous state of existence also he fell away.” So saying, he related the Ubhatobhattha Jātaka: 3 [146]

Your eyes are put out, your garments are lost, in your own house there is strife;

Your business is ruined in both places, both on water and on land.

In this wise did the Teacher, while he was in residence at Rājagaha, relate many Jātakas about Devadatta. From Rājagaha he went to Sāvatthi, and took up his residence at Jetavana monastery.

Devadatta’s sickness continued for nine months; at the last, desiring to see the Teacher, he said to his own disciples, “I desire to see the Teacher; make it possible for me to see him.” They replied, “When you enjoyed good health, you walked at enmity with the Teacher; we will not lead you to him.” Said Devadatta, “Do not destroy me; I have indeed conceived hatred towards the Teacher, but the Teacher has not cherished so much as the tip of a hair’s hatred towards me.” And in very truth

Towards the murderer Devadatta, towards the robber Aṅgulimāla,

Towards Dhanapala and Rāhula, to each and all he manifested an even temper.

1 Jātaka 308: iii. 25-27. 2 Jātaka 21: i. 173-174. 3 jataka 139: i. 482-484.

“Let me see the Exalted One,” begged Devadatta again and again; so finally they laid him on a litter and started out with him. When the monks heard that Devadatta was approaching, they informed the Teacher of the fact, saying, “Reverend Sir, we hear that Devadatta is coming to see you.” “Monks, he will not succeed in seeing me in this present existence.” (It is said that from the moment monks make the Five Demands, they invariably fail to see the Buddhas again.) [147] “Reverend Sir, he has reached such and such a place; he has reached such and such a place.” “Let him do as he likes; he will never succeed in seeing me again.” “Reverend Sir, now he is only a league distant, now he is only half a league distant, now he is only a gavuta distant, now he has reached the lotus-tank.” “Even if he enters within the Jetavana, he will not succeed in seeing me.”

Those who came with Devadatta set the litter down on the bank of the lotus-tank at the Jetavana and descended into the tank to bathe. Devadatta arose from his litter and sat down, resting both feet on the ground, whereupon his feet sank into the earth. By degrees he sank into the earth, first to the ankles, then to the knees, then to the hips, then to the breast, then to the neck. Finally, when his jaw-bone rested on the ground, he pronounced the following Stanza,

With these bones, with these vital airs, I seek refuge in the Buddha,

Preeminent among men, god of gods, charioteer of untamed humanity.

All-seeing, endowed with the auspicious marks of a hundred virtues.

There is a tradition that when the Tathāgata saw that matters had gone thus far, he made a monk of Devadatta. And this he did because he became aware of the following, “If he shall remain a layman and not be received into the Order as a monk, inasmuch as he has been guilty of grievous crimes, it will be impossible for him to look forwards with confidence to future existence; but if he shall become a monk, no matter how grievous the crimes he has committed, it will be possible for him to look forwards with confidence to future existence.” [148] (At the end of a hundred thousand cycles of time he will become a Private Buddha named Atthissara.)

When Devadatta had sunk into the earth, he was reborn in the Avīci hell. “Since he sinned against an unchanging Buddha, let him endure torture unchanging;” and such was the torture he suffered. When he had entered the Avīci hell, which is a hundred leagues in extent, his body became a hundred leagues in height. His head, as far as the outer ear, entered an iron skull; his feet, as far as the ankles, entered earth of iron. An iron stake as thick as the trunk of a palmyra-tree proceeded forth from the west wall of the iron shell, pierced the small of his back, came forth from his breast, and penetrated the east wall. Another iron stake proceeded forth from the south wall, pierced his right side, came forth from his left side, and penetrated the north wall. Another iron stake proceeded forth from the top of the iron skull, pierced his skull, came forth from his lower parts, and penetrated earth of iron. In this position, immovable, he suffers this mode of torture.

The monks began a discussion, saying, “All this distance came Devadatta, but failed to see the Teacher, and was swallowed up by the earth.” Said the Teacher, “Monks, this was not the first time Devadatta sinned against me and was swallowed up by the earth; in a previous state of existence also he was swallowed up by the earth,” And by way of illustrating the point, he told the story of an incident in his own previous existence as king of the elephants. He directed aright, a man who had lost his way, allowed him to mount his own back, and carried him to a place of safety, only to have the man return to him three successive times and saw off first the tips of his tusks, then the middle, and then the roots. As the man passed out of sight of the Great Creature, he was swallowed up by the earth. [149]

The Teacher then completed the Silava Naga Jātaka: 1

If one should give the whole earth to an ungrateful man,

A man who is ever looking for an opportunity, it would not satisfy him.

The discussion reverting to the same subject again and again, in order to illustrate the swallowing up of Devadatta by the earth in his existence as Kāḷaburaja for an offense against himself in his existence as Khantivādi, he related the Khantivādi Jātaka.2 Again, in order to illustrate the swallowing up of Devadatta by the earth in his existence as Mahāpataparaja for an offense against himself in his existence as Culla Dhammapala, he related the Culla Dhammapala 3 Jātaka.

Now when Devadatta was swallowed up by the earth, the populace was pleased and delighted, and raising flags and banners and plantain-trees and setting up brimming jars, held high festival, saying, “His death is indeed our great gain.” When the monks reported this incident to the Exalted One, the Exalted One said, “Monks, this is not the first time the populace has rejoiced at Devadatta’s death;

1 Jātaka 72: i. 319-322. 2 Jātaka 313: iii. 39-43. 3 Jātaka 358: iii. 177-182.

in times past also the populace rejoiced thereat.” And when he had thus spoken, to illustrate the rejoicing of the populace at the death of King Pingala of Benāres, a man who was hated by all the people for his harshness and cruelty, he related the Pingala Jātaka:1

All the people suffered harm at the hands of Pingala; so soon as he was dead they recovered confidence.

Was he of the yellow eyes dear to you? Why do you weep, porter? [150]

He of the yellow eyes was not dear to me; I fear to think of his return.

Now that he has gone hence, he may harm the king of death, and the king of death thus harmed may send him back again.

Finally the monks asked the Teacher, “Now, Reverend Sir, tell us where Devadatta was reborn.” “Monks, he was reborn in the Avīci hell.” “Reverend Sir, during his life here on earth he suffered, and when he went hence he was reborn in a place of suffering.” “Yes, monks, they that abide in Heedlessness, be they monks or laymen, suffer in both places.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

17. Here he suffers, after death he suffers; the evildoer suffers in both places.

He suffers to think, “I have done evil;” yet more does he suffer, gone to a place of suffering.

I. 13. LADY SUMANĀ

Here he rejoices. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to Lady Sumana. [151]

For every day two thousand monks take their meal in the house of Anāthapiṇḍika at Sāvatthi, and a like number in the house of the eminent female lay disciple Visākhā. Whoever desires to give alms at Sāvatthi, first seeks the good offices of these two lay disciples. Do you ask the reason for this? Suppose you are asked the question, “Has Anāthapiṇḍika or Visākhā given alms equal in amount to those which you have given?” and you answer, “They have not,” you may dispense a hundred thousand pieces of money in alms, and in spite of this the monks will murmur dissatisfaction, saying, “What kind of alms are these?” The explanation is that both of these lay disciples understand thoroughly the tastes of the Congregation of Monks and

1 Jātaka 240: ii. 239-242. 2 Cf. the story of Kavi in Manu, ii. 150 (Lanman’s Sanskrit Reader, 61’’). Text: N i. 151-1.‘54.

know exactly what is the proper thing to do; therefore all who desire to give alms take them with them when they go. And thus it happens that they are unable to minister to the monks in person in their own houses.

Under these circumstances Visākhā, considering within herself, “Who shall stand in my place and minister to the Congregation,of Monks?” seeing the daughter of her son, appointed her to represent her; and thenceforth Visākhā’s granddaughter ministered to the Congregation of Monks in Visākhā’s residence. Anāthapiṇḍika appointed his oldest daughter Mahā Subhaddā; the latter showed the monks the customary attentions, hearkened to the Law, and as a result obtained the Fruit of Conversion; afterwards she married and went to live with her husband’s family. Then he appointed Culla Subhaddā, who followed her older sister’s example, obtaining the Fruit of Conversion, and afterwards marrying and going to live with the family of her husband. Finally he appointed his youngest daughter Sumana. Sumana obtained the Fruit of the Second Path, but remained unmarried. [152] Overwhelmed with disappointment at her failure to obtain a husband, she refused to eat, and desiring to see her father, sent for him.

Anāthapiṇḍika was in the refectory when he received his daughter’s message, but immediately went to her and said, “What is it, dear daughter Sumana?” Sumana said to him, “What say you, dear youngest brother?” “You talk incoherently, dear daughter.” “I am not talking incoherently, youngest brother.” “Are you afraid, dear daughter?” “I am not afraid, youngest brother.” She said no more, but died immediately.

Although the treasurer had obtained the Fruit of Conversion, he was unable to bear the grief that arose within him. Accordingly, when he had performed the funeral rites over his daughter’s body, he went weeping to the Teacher. Said the Teacher, “Householder, how is it that you come to me sad and sorrowful, with tears in your eyes, weeping?” “Reverend Sir, my daughter Sumana is dead.” “Well, why do you weep? Is not death certain for all?” “I know that, Reverend Sir. But my daughter was so modest and so conscientious. What grieves me so much is the thought that when she died, she was unable to recover her right mind, but died raving incoherently.”

“But what did your youngest daughter say, great treasurer?” “Reverend Sir, I addressed her as ‘dear Sumana,’ and she replied, ‘What say you, dear youngest brother?’ Then I said to her, ‘You talk incoherently, dear daughter.’ ’ I am not talking incoherently, youngest brother.’ ‘Are you afraid, dear daughter?’ ‘I am not afraid, youngest brother.’ She said no more, but died immediately.”

Said the Exalted One to Anāthapiṇḍika, “Great treasurer, your daughter did not talk incoherently.” “But why did she speak thus?” “Solely because you were her youngest brother. [153] Householder, your daughter was old in the Paths and the Fruits, for while you have attained but the Fruit of Conversion, your daughter had attained the Fruit of the Second Path. Thus it was, because she was old in the Paths and the Fruits, that she spoke thus.” “Was that the reason, Reverend Sir?” “That was the reason, householder.”

“Where has she now been reborn, Reverend Sir?” “In the World of the Tusita gods, householder.” “Reverend Sir, while my daughter remained here among her kinsfolk, she went about rejoicing, and when she went hence, she was reborn in the World of Joy.” Then the Teacher said to him, “It is even so, householder. They that are heedful, be they lay folk or religious, rejoice both in this world and in the world beyond.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

18. Here he rejoices, after death he rejoices: he that has done good works rejoices in both places.

He rejoices to think, “I have done good works;” yet more does he rejoice, gone to a world of bliss.

I. 14. TWO BRETHREN

Though he utter much that is sensible. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to two fellow-monks. [154]

For at Sāvatthi lived two young men of station who were inseparable friends. On a certain occasion they went to the monastery, heard the Teacher preach the Law, renounced the pleasures of the world, yielded the breast to the Religion of the Buddha, and became monks. When they had kept residence for five years with preceptors and teachers, they approached the Teacher and asked about the Duties in his Religion. After listening to a detailed description of the Duty of Meditation and of the Duty of Study, one of them said, “Reverend Sir, since I became a monk in old age, I shall not be able to fulfill the Duty of Study, but I can fulfill the Duty of Meditation.” So he had

1 Text: N i. 154-159.

the Teacher instruct him in the Duty of Meditation as far as Arahatship, and after striving and struggling attained Arahatship, together with the Supernatural Faculties. But the other said, “I will fulfill the Duty of Study,” acquired by degrees the Tipitaka, the Word of the Buddha, and wherever he went, preached the Law and intoned it. He went from place to place reciting the Law to five hundred monks, and was preceptor of eighteen large communities of monks.

Now a company of monks, having obtained a Formula of Meditation from the Teacher, went to the place of residence of the older monk, and by faithful observance of his admonitions attained Arahatship. Thereupon they paid obeisance to the Elder and said, “We desire to see the Teacher.” [155] Said the Elder, “Go, brethren, greet in my name the Teacher, and likewise greet the eighty Chief Elders, and greet my fellow-elder, saying, ‘Our Teacher greets you.’” So those monks went to the monastery and greeted the Teacher and the Elders, saying, “Reverend Sir, our teacher greets you.” When they greeted their teacher’s fellow-elder, he replied, “Who is he?” Said the monks, “He is your fellow-monk, Reverend Sir.”

Said the younger monk, “But what have you learned from him? Of the Dīgha Nikāya and the other Nikāyas, have you learned a single Nikāya? Of the Three Piṭakas, have you learned a single Piṭaka?” And he thought to himself, “This monk does not know a single Stanza containing four verses. As soon as he became a monk, he took rags from a dust-heap, entered the forest, and gathered a great many pupils about him. When he returns, it behooves me to ask him some questions.” Now somewhat later the older monk came to see the Teacher, and leaving his bowl and robe with his fellow-elder, went and greeted the Teacher and the eighty Chief Elders, afterwards returning to the place of residence of his fellow-elder. The younger monk showed him the customary attentions, provided him with a seat of the same size as his own, and then sat down, thinking to himself, “I will ask him a question.”

At that moment the Teacher thought to himself, “Should this monk annoy this my son, he is likely to be reborn in Hell.” So out of compassion for him, pretending to be going the rounds of the monastery, he went to the place where the two monks were sitting and sat down on the Seat of the Buddha already prepared. (For wherever the monks sit down, they first prepare the Seat of the Buddha, and not until they have so done do they themselves sit down. [156] Therefore the Teacher sat down on a seat already prepared for him.) And when he had sat down, he asked the monk who had taken upon himself the Duty of Study a question on the First Trance. When the younger monk had answered this question correctly, the Teacher, beginning with the Second Trance, asked him questions about the Eight Attainments and about Form and the Formless World, all of which he answered correctly. Then the Teacher asked him a question about the Path of Conversion, and he was unable to answer it. Thereupon the Teacher asked the monk who was an Arahat, and the latter immediately gave the correct answer.

“Well done, well done, monk!” said the Teacher, greatly pleased. The Teacher then asked questions about the remaining Paths in order. The monk who had taken upon himself the Duty of Study was unable to answer a single question, while the monk who had attained unto Arahatship answered every question he asked. On each of four occasions the Teacher bestowed applause on him. Hearing this, all the deities, from the gods of earth to the gods of the World of Brahma, including Nāgas and Garudas, shouted their applause.

Hearing this applause, the pupils and fellow-residents of the younger monk were offended at the Teacher and said, “Why did the Teacher do this? He bestowed applause on each of four occasions on the old monk who knows nothing at all. But to our own teacher, who knows all the Sacred Word by heart and is at the head of five hundred monks, he gave no praise at all.” The Teacher asked them, “Monks, what is it you are talking about?” When they told him, he said, “Monks, your own teacher is in my Religion like a man who tends cows for hire. But my son is like a master who enjoys the five products of the cow at his own good pleasure.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanzas, [157]

19. Though he utter much that is sensible, if the heedless man be not a doer of the word,

He is like a cowherd counting the cows of others, and has no part in the Religious Life.

20. Though he utter little that is sensible, if a man live according to the Law,

If he forsake lust and hatred and delusion, if he have right knowledge, if his heart is truly free,

If he cling to naught in this world or in that which is to come, such a man has a share in the Religious Life.

BOOK II.

HEEDFULNESS

APPAMĀDA VAGGA

II. 1. STORY-CYCLE OF KING UDENA OR UDAYANA

Heedfulness is the Way to the Deathless. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Ghosita monastery near Kosambi, and it was with reference to the loss by death of the five hundred women led by Sāmāvatī and of Māgandiyā and her five hundred kinswomen. From beginning to end the story is as follows: [161]

Part 1. Birth and youthful career of Udena

Once upon a time King Allakappa ruled over the kingdom of Allakappa and King Veṭhadīpaka ruled over the kingdom of Veṭhadīpaka. They had been intimate friends since their boyhood-days and had received their education in the house of the same teacher. On the death of their fathers they raised the royal parasol and became rulers of kingdoms, each of which was ten leagues in extent.

As they met from time to time, and stood and sat and lay down to sleep together, and watched the multitudes being born into the world and dying again, they came to the conclusion, “When a man goes to the world beyond he can take nothing with him: [162] he must leave everything behind him when he goes thither; even his own body does not follow him; of what use to us is the life of the householder? Let us retire from the world.”

Accordingly they resigned their kingdoms to son and wife, retired from the world, adopted the life of ascetics, and took up their residence in the Himalaya country. And they took counsel together, saying, “Although we have renounced our kingdoms and retired from the world, we shall encounter no difficulty in gaining a living; but if we reside together in the same place, our life will be quite unlike the life of ascetics; therefore let us live apart. You live on this mountain; I will live on that. Every fortnight, on fast-day, we will meet together.” Then this thought occurred to them, “Under this arrangement

1 For a discussion of the parallels to the Story-Cycle of Udena, see Introduction, § 11. See also Rogers, Buddhaghosha’s Parables, v, pp. 32-60. Text: N i. 161-231.

neither of us will be in regular communication with the other; but in order that each of us may know whether the other is living or not, you light a fire on your mountain, and I will light a fire on mine.” And this they did.

After a time the ascetic Veṭhadīpaka died and was reborn as a prince of deities of mighty power. A fortnight later Allakappa saw no fire on the mountain and knew that his comrade was dead. As soon as ever Veṭhadīpaka was reborn, he surveyed his own heavenly glory, considered the deeds of his former existence, reviewed the austerities he had performed from the day when he retired from the world, and said to himself, “I will go see my comrade.” Accordingly he laid aside his form as a deity, disguised himself as a wayfarer, went to Allakappa, paid obeisance to him, and stood respectfully on one side.

Allakappa said to him, “Whence have you come?” [163] “I am a wayfarer, Reverend Sir; I have come a long distance. But, Reverend Sir, does your honor reside entirely alone in this place? Is there no one else here?” “I have a single comrade.” “Where is he?” “He resides on that mountain; but as he failed to light a fire on fast-day, I know he must be dead.” “Is that so, Reverend Sir?” “That is so, brother.” “I am he, Reverend Sir.” “Where were you reborn?” “Reverend Sir, I was reborn in the World of the Gods as a prince of deities of mighty power. I have returned to see your honor. Does your honorable self reside in this place undisturbed, or are you subject to some annoyance?” “Yes, brother, I am bothered to death by the elephants.” “Reverend Sir, what do the elephants do to trouble you?” “They drop dung on the ground I have swept clean, and they stamp with their feet and kick up the dust. What with removing the dung and smoothing the ground, I am all worn out.” “Well, would you like to keep them away?” “Yes, brother.” “Well then, I will provide you with means whereby you can keep them away.”

Accordingly Veṭhadīpaka gave Allakappa a lute to charm elephants with and likewise taught him spells for charming elephants. Now as he presented the lute to him, he showed him three strings and taught him three spells. “Strike this string,” said he, “and utter this spell, and the elephants will turn and run away without so much as daring even to look at you; strike this string and utter this spell, and they will turn and run away, eyeing you at every step; strike this string and utter this spell, and the leader of the herd will come up and offer you his back. Now do as you like.” With these words [164] he departed. Thereafter the ascetic lived in peace, driving the elephants away by uttering the proper spell and striking the proper string.

At this time Parantapa was king of Kosambi. One day he was sitting out in the open air basking himself in the rays of the newly risen sun, and beside him sat his queen, great with child. The queen was wearing the king’s cloak, a crimson blanket worth a hundred thousand pieces of money; and as she sat there conversing with the king she removed from the king’s finger the royal signet, worth a hundred thousand pieces of money, and slipped it on her own.

Just at that moment a monster bird with a bill as big as an elephant’s trunk came soaring through the air. Seeing the queen and mistaking her for a piece of meat, he spread his wings and swooped down. When the king heard the bird swoop down, he sprang to his feet and entered the royal palace. But the queen, because she was great with child and because she was of a timid nature, was unable to make haste. The bird pounced upon her, caught her up in the cage of his talons, and soared away with her into the air. (These birds are said to possess the strength of five elephants; they are therefore able to convey their victims through the air, settle wherever they wish, and devour their flesh.)

As the queen was being carried away by the bird, terrified though she was with the fear of death, she preserved her presence of mind and thought to herself, “Animals stand in great fear of the human voice. Therefore if I cry out, this bird will drop me the instant he hears the sound of my voice. But in that case I should accomplish only my own destruction and that of my unborn child. If, however, I wait until he settles somewhere and begins to eat, then I can make a noise and frighten him away.” Through her own wisdom, therefore, she kept patience and endured.

Now there stood at that time in the Himalaya country a banyan-tree which, although of brief growth, had attained great size [165] and was like a pavilion in form; and to this tree that bird was accustomed to convey the carcasses of wild animals and eat them. To this very tree, therefore, the bird conveyed the queen, lodged her in a fork of the tree, and watched the path leading to the tree. (It is the nature of these birds, we are told, to watch the path leading to their tree.) At that moment the queen, thinking to herself, “Now is the time to frighten him away,” raised both her hands, clapped them together and shouted, and frightened the bird away.

At sunset the pains of travail came upon her, and at the same time from all the four quarters of heaven arose a great storm. The delicate queen, half dead with suffering, with no one beside her to say to her, “Fear not, lady,” slept not at all throughout the night. As the night grew bright, the clouds scattered, the dawn came, and her child was born at one and the same moment. Because the child was born at the time (utu) of a storm, at the time when she was upon a mountain, and at the time when the sun rose, she named her son Udena.

Not far from that tree was the place of residence of the ascetic Allakappa. Now on rainy days it was the custom of the ascetic not to go into the forest for fruits and berries, for fear of the cold. Instead he used to go to the foot of the tree and gather up the bones from which the birds had picked the flesh; then he would pound the bones, make broth of them, and drink the broth. On that very day, therefore, he went there to get bones. As he was picking up bones at the foot of the tree, [166] he heard the voice of a child in the branches above.

Looking up, he saw the queen. “Who are you?” said he. “I am a woman.” “How did you get there?” “A monster bird brought me here.” “Come down,” said he. “Your honor, I am afraid to come down on account of difference of caste.” “Of what caste are you?” “Of the Warrior caste.” “I am also of the Warrior caste.” “Well then, give me the password of the Warrior caste.” He did so. “Well then, climb up and set down my boy.” Finding a way to climb the tree on one side, he climbed up and took the boy in his arms; obeying the queen’s behest not to touch her with his hand, he set the boy down; then the queen herself came down.

The ascetic conducted the queen along the path to his hermitage and cared for her tenderly without in any way violating his vow of chastity. He brought honey free from flies and gave it to her; he brought rice grown in his own field and prepared broth and gave it to her. Thus did he minister to her needs.

After a time she thought to herself, “For my part I know neither the way to come nor the way to go, nor can I repose absolute confidence even in this ascetic. Now if he were to leave us and go elsewhere, we should both perish right here. I must by some means seduce him to violate his vow of chastity, so that he will not abandon us. Accordingly she displayed herself before him with under and upper garments in disarray, and thus seduced him to violate his vow of chastity; thenceforth the two lived together.

One day, as the ascetic was observing a conjunction of a constellation with one of the lunar mansions, he saw the occultation of Parantapa’s star. “My lady,” said he, “Parantapa, king of Kosambi, is dead.” [167] “Noble sir, why do you speak thus? Why do you bear ill-will against him?” “I bear him no ill-will, my lady. I say this because I have just seen the occultation of his star.” She burst into tears. “Why do you weep?” he asked. Then she told him that Parantapa was her own husband. The ascetic replied, “Weep not, my lady; whoever is born is certain to die.” “I know that, noble sir.” “Then why do you weep?” “I weep, noble sir, because it pains me to think, ‘To my son belongs the sovereignty by right of succession; had he been there, he would have raised the white parasol; now he has become one of the common herd.’” “Never mind, my lady; be not disturbed. If you desire that he shall receive the sovereignty, I will devise some means by which he shall receive it.” Accordingly the ascetic gave the boy the lute to charm elephants with and likewise taught him the spells for charming elephants.

Now at that time many thousands of elephants came and sat at the foot of the banyan-tree. So the ascetic said to the boy, “Climb the tree before the elephants come, and when they come, utter this spell and strike this string, and they will all turn and run away, without even so much as daring to look at you; then descend and come to me.” The boy did as he was told, and then went and told the ascetic. On the second day the ascetic said to him, “To-day utter this spell and strike this string, if you please, and they will turn and run away, eyeing you at every step.” On that day also the boy did as he was told, and then went [168] and told the ascetic.

Then the ascetic addressed the mother, saying, “My lady, give your son his message and he will go hence and become king.” So she addressed her son, saying, “You must say, ‘I am the son of King Parantapa of Kosambi; a monster bird carried me off.’ Then you must utter the names of the commander-in-chief and the other generals. If they still refuse to believe you, you must show them this blanket which was your father’s cloak and this signet-ring which he wore on his finger.” With these words she dismissed him.

The boy said to the ascetic, “Now what shall I do?” The ascetic replied, “Seat yourself on the lowest branch of the tree, utter this spell and strike this string, and the leader of the elephants will approach and offer you his back. Seat yourself on his back, go to your kingdom, and take the sovereignty.” The boy did reverence to his parents, and following the instructions of the ascetic, seated himself on the back of the elephant and whispered in his ear, “I am the son of King Parantapa of Kosambi. Get me and give me the sovereignty which I have inherited from my father.” When the elephant heard that, he trumpeted, “Let many thousands of elephants assemble;” and many thousands of elephants assembled. Again a second time he trumpeted, “Let the old, weak elephants retire;” and the old, weak elephants retired. The third time he trumpeted, “Let those that are very young retire;” and they also retired.

So the boy went forth, surrounded by many thousands of warrior-elephants, and reaching a village on the frontier, proclaimed, “I am the son of the king; [169] let those who desire worldly prosperity come with me.” Levying forces as he proceeded, he invested the city and sent the following message to the citizens, “Give me battle or the kingdom.” The citizens answered, “We will give neither. Our queen was carried off by a monster bird when she was great with child, and we know not whether she is alive or dead. So long as we hear no news of her, we will give neither battle nor the kingdom.” (At that time, we are told, the kingdom was handed down from father to son.) Thereupon the boy said, “I am her son.” So saying, he uttered the names of the commander-in-chief and the other generals, and when they still refused to believe him, showed the blanket and the ring. They recognized the blanket and the ring, opened the gates, and sprinkled him king.