by Visnu Sarma
(107) For the fool who is defiled by the touch
of the corpse of a beast or a man,
purification is twofold:
the use of the cow’s five products,31
and observance of the lunar fast.’32
And now the Brāhmana spoke in anger: ‘What? Is Your Honour blind to call this animal a calf?’
‘Oh! Please do not be angry, Your Holiness,’ replied the rogue, ‘I spoke through ignorance. Do as you please, sir.’
As the Brāhmana walked a little further, the third rogue having changed his clothes came in front of him and said, ‘Oho! What gross impropriety! Carrying an ass on your shoulders, sir! It is said:
(108) The man who touches an ass knowingly
or out of ignorance may be,
is instructed to have a ritual-bath
fully-clothed, to be rid of defilement.
‘Drop this animal at once, sir, before anyone else sees you.’
The poor Brāhmana concluded that the animal was in reality a demon. He dropped the creature precipitately on the ground and in great fear ran home as fast as his legs could carry him.
And as for those three rogues, they met as planned and picking up the goat carried out the purpose they had in mind.
‘Therefore, I say to you: “crafty rogues quick-witted…” and the rest of it. And is it not wisely said:
(109) There’s no man in this world who is not duped
by the cheerful efforts of new servants to serve;
by flattering praise of visitors or of guests;
by the crocodile tears of wanton women,
and the voluble speech of confidence men.
‘Moreover, one should not invite the enmity of the weak if they form a crowd. As we have heard:
(110) You should not pit your strength against a mob;
It is hard to win against the masses;
the little red ants killed and ate the great snake
in spite of all his twisting and twitching.
And Cloud Hue exclaimed, ‘Oh! Really? And how was that?’ Then Live Firm began the tale of The Ants who killed the Snake.
In a certain anthill lived an enormous black snake named Haughty. One day instead of following the usual path he attempted to crawl out of his hide-out through a very narrow crevice. Because his body was so huge and the crevice so narrow and because Fate willed it to be so, he suffered a gash in his body as he was wriggling out. The smell of the blood oozing from the wound drew a whole host of small red ants to that spot. They surrounded the poor snake from all sides and their assaults on his body tormented him beyond all endurance. He thrashed around killing many and crushing many more. But they were such a large and formidable force that they stung him all over until his body was a mass of wounds; and Haughty died.
‘This is why I advised you saying, “Do not pit your strength…” and so on. There is one more thing I have to tell you, my lord; listen carefully, ponder over what I say and then carry it out.’
Cloud Hue replied reverentially, ‘Yes, Father, do tell me what is on your mind.’
And Live Firm replied, ‘Pay attention, my son; I have figured out a fifth expedient that is superior to the four classic expedients of statecraft such as peaceful negotiations and the rest. And it is this: adopt a hostile attitude towards me, threaten me in the harshest terms, smear my body with blood—which you have to procure from somewhere—and then throw me down to the base of this tree; all this in a convincing manner so that the enemy’s spies are deceived. Then, you fly off to Antelope Hill with your whole retinue and stay there until such time as I have done everything in my power to gain the confidence of our enemies. Having done that I shall discover the heart of their stronghold and kill them: for as we know, owls are daytime-blind. This plan works on the assumption that their fortress must be of simple construction lacking a rear exit for escape. As the wise point out:
(111) Experts in statecraft call a fortress
a stronghold possessing an escape route.
A fortress lacking means of escape
is but a euphemism for a trap.
‘And listen to me, my son; feel no pity for me; as it is well put:
(112) Care for your retainers,
pamper them all you can,
consider them dear,
dear as your very life;
but once the battle is begun
regard them as so much dry tinder.
‘There is another thing I shall mention; pray do not try and dissuade me: for:
(113) A king ought always to protect his men
as he would his own precious life;
cherish them, nourish them each day
as he would his own dear person;
And all that against that one day
when he joins battle with a foe.’
With these words, Live Firm started a mock quarrel with his king. Seeing him ranting and raving at his king in such an unbridled fashion, the rest of the royal retainers rose up ready to despatch the offending minister when the King of the Crows restrained them saying, ‘No, no, get out of my way all of you; leave; I shall punish this scoundrel myself; teach this evil-hearted traitor who has gone over to the enemy’s side, a lesson.’
Having firmly checked his men, Cloud Hue then jumped peremptorily on to Live Firm’s back. He pecked him lightly all over, smeared blood on him that he had already procured, threw him down and then set off as instructed for Antelope Hill with all his retinue.
At this juncture, the Queen of the Owls who had been acting as a spy saw what had happened and flew off to her lord to report in detail the misfortune that had befallen Cloud Hue’s minister and the ensuing flight of the crows. As it was now sunset, the owl-king was already preparing to set out on a crow-slaughtering mission with his retinue.
When he heard what his queen had to say, he exclaimed with great glee, ‘Well, well, hurry fellows, hurry up; it is solely through meritorious actions done, that a person has the good fortune of coming upon an enemy in flight: as we have all heard:
(114) An enemy fleeing
first hands you the opening
you seek on a silver tray;
next, seeking shelter elsewhere,
in a dreadful scare,
the royal retainers all in disarray,
to have him in your grasp
is simply child’s play.’
Urged on by the words of their king all the owls set out in the direction of the banyan tree. When they arrived there not a single crow was to be seen. King Foe Crusher with great satisfaction alighted on a branch of the tree and as his bards began their songs of praise in his honour, he spoke thus to his retainers, ‘Hey there, fellows! Find out their line of retreat. Whichever route they might have taken they are all now finished for good, for I shall be at their heels in hot pursuit; and so long as they do not gain sanctuary in some fort, I shall surely kill them.’
At this point, Live Firm began to reflect thus; ‘Now, if these enemies having got wind of what we have done simply return the way they came, then nothing would have been accomplished. For as the saying goes:
(115) The first mark of intelligence
is to leave things well alone;
the second mark of intelligence
is to see to its proper end what is begun.
‘It is better not to undertake a project than have it fail right at the beginning. I think I had better call out and let them know I am here.’
Deciding on this line of action, Live Firm started cawing in the feeblest manner possible; and hearing him caw, the owls prepared to kill him.
‘Alas! Alas!’ lamented Live Firm at this point, ‘Look at me; here I am, King Cloud Hue’s minister, reduced by him to this miserable plight. Go and inform your king that I have much to say to him.’
Advised of this by his retainers, the King of Owls came close to Live Firm and seeing him covered with bloody gashes exclaimed in utter amazement, ‘Oh, sir! What is this? How come you are in such a pitiable state? What hap
pened? Tell me.’
‘Ah! My lord,’ replied Live Firm, ‘Pray listen to me. Last evening, seeing a large number of crows slaughtered by you and your men, Cloud Hue was driven to distraction with great anger and grief; and the evil-hearted rascal was all set to pursue you to your fortress. Seeing that, I remonstrated with him, pointing out the facts, “No, no, Your Majesty,” I said, “Do not proceed to their stronghold, for they are all very powerful and we are weak. As it is wisely said:
(116) If he values his own good, the weak man
will never contemplate a hostile act
against an enemy exceeding strong,
an act certain to be his utter ruin
as a moth’s that flies into a flame,
while his foe of great power remains unscathed.
“Therefore, my lord, your best bet is to sue for peace, offering the enemy tribute.” Hearing my words of advice and incited by evil-minded counsellors, Cloud Hue, suspecting me of being in your pay, reduced me to this plight. So, my lord, your royal feet are now my sole refuge. As long as I am capable of some movement I shall serve you by leading Your Majesty to Cloud Hue’s whereabouts and thus bring about the destruction of all the crows.’
Hearing Live Firm speak thus, King Foe Crusher thought it best to consult his ministers who had served in succession his grandfather and father. There were five of them named: Red Eye, Fierce Eye, Flame Eye, Hook Nose and Rampart Ear.33
The owl-king turned first to Red Eye and addressed him courteously, ‘Noble sir! What is to be done in the circumstances?’
‘Why stop to think at all, Your Majesty,’ replied Red Eye. ‘Kill this fellow without the least compunction. For, as the saying goes:
(117) Kill a foe when he is down
before he grows in strength;
Once he gains his fullest vigour
he will become invincible.
‘And further, my lord, you know what the world says: “If Lady Fortune comes a-wooing and you turn her down, she will fall to cursing.” It is also said that:
(118) The right moment comes once only
for him who waits for it eagerly.
To find the moment once again,
to do the thing you wish to do,
that is by no means easy.
‘We have also heard this; as the snake said:
(119) Look at the blazing pyre
and look at my battered hood;
Love once broken, then glued together—
What oil or balm can make it grow and thrive!’
‘Ah!’ said King Foe Crusher, ‘How did that happen?’ Then Red Eye began the tale of The Serpent who paid in gold.
In a certain settlement lived a Brāhmana who however hard he tried his hand at farming found all his labour a fruitless waste of time. Now one day at the close of summer, exhausted by the heat, he lay down in the shade of the tree standing right in the middle of his field. Not far off was an anthill and as the Brāhmana looked towards it, he saw rearing on top of it an awesome sight, a fierce snake with a fully expanded hood. As he watched it, he reflected, ‘Aha! That is the reason for it all. This snake is certainly the divinity that guards this field and I have never once offered it due rites of worship. And that is why all my toiling in this field turns out fruitless. So, today, I should pay it my respects and offer worship.’
With such thoughts in his mind he went and begged for some milk, poured it into a clay bowl and coming close to the anthill, addressed the snake. ‘Oh! Guardian of the Field! All this time I have not been aware that you resided at this spot. Only for that reason have I been remiss of my duties and not paid you your due rites of worship. Forgive me, I beg of you.’ And with these words he offered the snake the bowl of milk and went home.
The next morning the Brāhmana came to the field and what did he see but a gold coin nestling in the clay bowl. From that day on he always went alone to the anthill to offer the snake milk every day; and each day he was rewarded with a gold coin.
One day the Brāhmana, who had to go to the neighbouring town on business, instructed his son to take the bowl of milk to the anthill. The boy did as he was instructed and placing the bowl of milk went home.
The next morning when he went to the field, he noticed the gold coin in the bowl; and he thought to himself; ‘Ah! this anthill is chock-full of gold coins; I am certain of it. So why don’t I kill this snake and take all the coins?’
With this intention, while offering the snake milk the next morning, he fetched a hefty blow on its hood with the wooden cudgel he had brought with him. But it was Fate’s will that the snake should not lose its life. Instead, it dug its sharp fangs into the boy’s flesh with venomous fury and bit him so hard that he died instantly. His relatives found him and having built a funeral pyre not far from the field, they cremated him with proper rites.
When the father returned the next day, his kinsfolk informed him of how his son had died and been cremated. Reflecting deeply on what had happened he spoke these lines:
(120) He who shows no compassion for living things,
who grabs instead that which seeks sanctuary,
is certain to lose all that he possesses
as did the wild geese that lived in Lotus Lake.’
‘Oh! Did they really? And how was that?’ asked the Brāhmana’s kinsfolk. And then the Brāhmana began the tale of The Golden Geese of Lotus Lake.
In a certain kingdom lived a king by the name of Bright Chariot34 who possessed a lake named Lotus Lake which his warriors guarded with the greatest care, for it abounded with golden, wild geese that paid the king the tribute of one tail-feather apiece, every six months.
Now, it happened that a great bird, all golden, flew into that lake one day. At once the wild geese spoke sharply to it saying, ‘Look here, you have no right to come here and live in our midst, because we live in this lake by right of giving the king a gift of one golden tail-feather apiece once in six months.’ And they went on in this manner. To make it brief, soon, a raging dispute rose between the two parties.
The great bird now sought the king’s presence to plead for his intercession. ‘Lord,’ it began, ‘this is what the birds in your lake say: “Go, we shall not give you an inch of space here to stay. What can the king do to us?” Then I answered them, lord, and said this, “It is not right that you speak so discourteously. I shall go and complain to the king.” Now it is for His Majesty to make his decision.’
The king summoned his attendants and commanded them as follows: ‘Fellows! Go; kill all those birds in the lake and bring them to me without delay.’
Receiving the royal command, the attendants left at once and set out for the lake. Seeing the king’s men come marching, cudgel in hand, one ancient wild goose spoke as follows: ‘Well, my dear kinsfolk; this is not at all a pleasant prospect. So, let us all be of one mind and fly away altogether.’ The wild geese did precisely that.
‘Therefore I say to you, “He who shows no compassion for living things…” and the rest of it.’ Having said this the Brāhmana left.
Early the next morning he went with the bowl of milk to the anthill and in order to regain the snake’s trust, called out, ‘It was through his own fault that my son met his death.’
And the snake answered him thus:
(121) ‘Look at the blazing pyre,
and look at my battered hood;
Love once broken, then glued together—
what oil or balm can make it grow and thrive!’
‘Once the crow is put to death, then Your Majesty will without any effort on your part enjoy your realm, rid of all its thorns.’
Foe Crusher having listened to the advice of Minister Red Eye, turned to Fierce Eye, ‘So, good sir, what is your opinion on this matter?’ To which the minister replied, ‘My lord; what my honourable friend here has just spoken strikes me as merciless, the reason being that a person seeking sanctuary ought not to be killed. You know the fable, my lord, that puts the moral excellently:
(122) The dove it’
s told welcomed the enemy
who came humbly pleading for sanctuary;
offered him all guest-rites customary
and furthermore, his own flesh as a meal.’
‘Really? How was that?’ asked Foe Crusher with interest. And then Fierce Eye began the tale of The Dove who sacrificed himself.
(123) A fowler of fierce aspect, forbidding,
Death incarnate to every living thing,
roamed wide the great forests, pursuing
his nefarious doings.
(124) No friend he had to call his own, no kin
by blood or by marriage;
shunned by one and all for his deeds, savage.
And is it not so, that:
(125) Those vile and venomous who strike terror
into the heart of every single creature,
killers, they truly become like serpents cruel.
(126) Each day, without fail, armed with cage and cudgel,
with snares, traps and ropes as well,
this executioner universal
would frequent the great forests.
(127) One day the fowler in the forest prowling,
saw the skies grow dark with rain clouds menacing;
a mighty storm raged and roared, catapulting
fierce torrents of rain pelting:
it seemed the end of the world was coming.
(128) His heart shuddered and twisted with terror;
his limbs would not stop trembling; the cruel fowler
groped his way searching wildly for some shelter,
to one of the great lords of the forest.
(129) He cowered for a while under that great tree;
the stars shone bright as the skies cleared suddenly.
A ray of wisdom glimmering, he spoke softly:
‘O divinities! You are my sanctuary.’
(130) A turtle dove who lived in a hollow
in the tree-trunk sat drowned in deepest sorrow;
not seeing his dear wife for a long time,
he began lamenting in mournful rhyme.
(131) ‘O! What a terrible rainstorm!