by Visnu Sarma
After that, the serpent told the king most courteously, ‘Dear friend, I have exterminated all your enemies: now give me something to eat, for it was you who brought me here.’
To this Gaṅgādatta replied loftily, ‘My dear fellow, you have done what a friend should do. Now you had better go back the way you came, climbing up the well by the buckets strung on the water-wheel.’
But the serpent was not one to be put off in this manner; ‘Hey, Gaṅgādatta, you have not given much thought to what you said just now, have you? My hollow which was my fortress must certainly be occupied by others now. No, I shall stay right here and expect you to provide me with frogs, one after the other even if they happen to belong to your own family. And if you don’t, why… I shall eat them all up.’
Hearing these ominous threats, Gaṅgādatta was deeply troubled as he reflected, ‘Alas, alas; what is this that I have done bringing this fellow here? And if I refuse him, he is going to swallow every single frog here. Oh! How admirably these lines express it:
(22) Whoever makes friends with a foe
far more powerful than himself
is feeding himself poison;
of that I am by no means uncertain.
‘I daresay I have to give this fellow a frog a day even if it has to be one of my friends : as we well know:
(23) Prudent men please with some trivial gift
an enemy who has the power to seize all,
just as the ocean pacifies
the fiery mare lying in its depths.
‘Moreover:
(24) When loss of the whole threatens
the prudent man parts with a half,
to carry on with the other half:
for total loss is hard to take.
‘Besides:
(25) Men with practical sense will not expend
too much for too little profit:
Prudence consists in this: protect
a great deal at little expense.’
Having decided that this was the best possible course, Gaṅgādatta alloted one frog a day to the black serpent, who ate that and another besides behind the frog-king’s back. What wisdom is contained in these lines:
(26) As a man in soiled clothes sits here,
there and any where,
so also he who strays from Virtue’s path
cares not to preserve mere tatters of good conduct.
Now one day, while eating some frogs, Sir Handsome happened to gobble up Prince Sunadatta, Gaṅgādatta’s son. Seeing this the frog-king set up a howl, wailing bitterly in shrill, high-pitched tones. Then his wife, taunting, reproached him thus:
(27) ‘Why, why shriek so shrill?
You, whose cry no one hears!
You, the bane of your whole race!
Gone are all your kinsfolk;
Who can give you sanctuary now?
‘Therefore, think of a way for our escape, this very day; or think of a scheme to kill this black serpent.’
And the days went by: one by one, all the frogs in the well were eaten up; all except Gaṅgādatta.
Then, Sir Handsome turned to him and said, ‘Friend, Gaṅgādatta, all the frogs here are gone, finished, and I am hungry; so find me something to eat.’
‘Listen, friend,’ replied Gaṅgādatta, ‘don’t you worry about a thing while I am still here. If you permit me to leave, I shall go to many other wells and lure all the frogs dwelling in them to this well.’
Sir Handsome thought it was a splendid idea: ‘Since I cannot dine off you because you are like a brother to me, go; if you succeed in bringing off this scheme of yours, then you will be like a father to me,’ he said.
With his plan clearly thought out, Gaṅgādatta made good his escape by slipping out of the well, while Sir Handsome sat within waiting, eagerly expecting his return.
After a long time, Sir Handsome addressed a lizard who also resided in the well in a hollow near his own. ‘Fair lady,’ he said, ‘do me a small favour. Since Gaṅgādatta is a very old acquaintance of yours, pray go and look for him in some pool or other and give him this message from me. Say to him: “Friend, come back quickly, alone if need be; even if no other frogs accompany you. I cannot live here alone without you. And if I do you the least harm, may all the merit I have gained in my life be wholly yours, I swear.”’
The lizard scurried off at Sir Handsome’s bidding. Looking high and low for him, she finally found Gaṅgādatta, ‘Gracious Lord,’ she said to him, ‘your friend, Sir Handsome is waiting impatiently for your return. So please hurry and come back. Furthermore, he has sworn that if he does you any harm, all the merit he has earned in life will be wholly yours. Come home without the slightest fear.’
Gaṅgādatta listened to what the lizard had to say; then he recited this verse:
(28) ‘What crime will a man famished not commit?
Ruthless indeed are those down-and-out,
Go, fair lady; tell Sir Handsome, the snake;
Gaṅgādatta will never again be at the well.’
And with these words he sent her back.
‘So, you wicked water-dweller, like Gaṅgādatta, I shall never, never enter your home.’
Hearing these harsh words, the crocodile pleaded, dissembling, ‘Oh! My dear friend! what a thing to say! Please come to my home and by that act wipe off my sin of ingratitude. Otherwise, I shall sit here and starve myself to death.’
‘You blockhead,’ retorted Red Face. ‘You think I am like the fellow named Long Ears to go to a place in full sight of danger and get myself killed?’
The crocodile asked, ‘Who is this fellow named Long Ears? How did he die even as he saw danger staring at him? Pray, tell me that tale.’
And then Red Face, the ape, began the tale of Long Ears and Dusty.
Once there was a lion named Flaming Mane15 who lived in a certain forest. He had a jackal named Dusty16 who was his faithful follower and factotum. Once, the lion suffered many deep gashes in his body as a result of a fight with an elephant; so wounded was he that he could hardly move. And as the lion could not bestir himself, Dusty grew famished. His throat was pinched by hunger. So one day he said to the lion, ‘My lord, so tormented am I by acute hunger that I can scarcely place one foot before the other. So, how can I attend on you?’
And the lion replied, ‘My good Dusty, you go and hunt out some creature which I can slay even in the sorry state I am in.’
Obeying the lion’s command, Dusty, the jackal, went searching for prey. As he was searching he came to the nearby village where he saw an ass named Long Ears struggling to crop a thin and scanty patch of dūrvā17 grass growing at the edge of a pond.
Dusty walked up to the ass and greeted him. ‘Uncle, please accept my respectful greetings. My goodness! what a long time it is since I saw you last, and why have you grown so feeble?’
‘Oh, my dear nephew,18 what is to be done? The dhobi19 treats me cruelly laying heavy loads on my back. And in return he hardly gives me a mouthful of grass to eat. Subsisting on this dust-coated dūrvā grass what nourishment does my body get?’ replied the ass.
‘Ah! I see,’ observed the jackal, ‘I tell you what: there is an absolutely charming spot by the river all lush with emerald green grass. Come, live with me there and enjoy witty conversation and pleasant company.’
‘Ah! Dear nephew; you speak nicely indeed. But, as you know, creatures of the fields are the natural prey of dwellers in the woods; so what good is that charming spot you talk of?’
‘No, no, don’t talk like that,’ remarked Dusty. ‘You see, that is a spot protected by the strong fence of my arms. No stranger dares enter it. Besides, there are three female asses there who have also been cruelly tortured by dhobis. They are in need of a husband. They have grown sleek and plump and frisky, bursting with youth’s ardour. And do you know what they told me: “Uncle dear, listen, please go to some village or other and find us a nice husband”; that is what they said. Now you know why I came to fetch you.’
These w
ords of the jackal filled every limb of Long Ears’ body with aching passion. He readily agreed. ‘My good fellow, if that is the case, then, let us hurry there. Lead the way, my friend. Ah! How well the poet expresses it:
(29) Nothing there is in this world,
that is neither nectar, nor poison,
except one…
a lovely woman.
We live by her presence,
we die from her absence.’
And with these fancies the silly ass went along with the jackal into the lion’s presence. But the lion being a greater ass took one leap as soon as the ass came within the range of his spring and went right over Long Ears’ back to land on the far side and fall on the ground.
The ass was taken by surprise and wondered: ‘O, Gracious Gods! What could this be?’ For it seemed as if a thunderbolt had shot over him. Though confounded by all that had happened, he somehow came through unhurt by the grace of a kind fate perhaps. Then as he looked back he saw a creature he had never seen before; a terrifying creature with cruel, bloodshot eyes. Seized by intense fear, he beat a hasty retreat and galloping swiftly with his feet responding to his terror, raced back to town.
The jackal, who was watching, now taunted the lion. ‘Ho ho! What is this! I have witnessed a piece of your heroism today, it seems!’
Totally dumbfounded the lion whimpered, ‘But… the position I took to make my spring was not well-prepared. So, what could I do? Could an elephant have ever escaped once he came within the range of my spring? Hm… ?’
‘Then, you had better have your spring well-positioned the next time, because I am planning to bring this ass once again into your presence,’ replied Dusty, curtly.
‘My good fellow,’ exclaimed Flaming Mane, ‘Once the ass saw me face to face he ran for his life; how can you then make him agree to come again?’
‘You leave that to me; why are you bothered about it? It is up to me to be circumspect on this point.’
With these words, Dusty followed the tracks made by the ass and found him grazing at exactly the same spot as previously.
When Long Ears saw Dusty, the jackal, standing there, he remarked drily, ‘Well, dear nephew; that was indeed a charming spot you took me to. And was I not lucky to escape with my life! So tell me; what was that terrible creature, extremely ferocious, from whose thunderbolt blows I was glad to escape?’
At this, Dusty laughed and said, ‘Oh, that… that. Uncle, was the she-ass, dressed up in all her finery. Seeing you advancing towards her, she rose up in a flurry of passion to embrace you. But you… you were so timid that you fled. Even as you disappeared she stretched out a hand to stop you. That’s all; there is nothing else to it. So come back, for she has resolved to starve to death on your account; and she says, “If I cannot have Long Ears for my husband, I shall enter the fire or water or take poison. But I simply cannot bear to be separated from him.” So be gracious and return, otherwise, mark you, you incur the sin20 of causing a woman’s death and the God of Love21 will be enraged. As these lines express it well:
(30) If misguided men desiring Paradise,
or Final Bliss, elect to shun outright
the dolphin-bannered god’s22 victorious emblem
and provider of all things good—WOMAN,
for this error Love hurls cruel blows at them;
post-haste some become naked mendicants,
or shaven monks; others wear matted hair,
or garlands of skulls, or robes of saffron.’
The ass, convinced by Dusty’s words and trusting him implicitly, prepared to go with the jackal once again; for indeed, it is wisely said:
(31) A man, knowing better, may do a deed
most horrid driven by a fate most unfavourable.
For who in the world can relish a deed
the whole world regards reprehensible!
As Long Ears, taken in completely by a hundred deceitful words spoken by the rascal Dusty as they went along, came once again in to the lion’s presence, Flaming Mane, who had positioned himself suitably for his spring, killed him instantly.
Having slain the ass, Flaming Mane instructed Dusty to stand guard over the beast and himself went down to the river to have a bath. The jackal, overcome by intense craving for food, ate up the donkey’s ears and heart. When the lion returned after completing his bath, and all the prescribed rituals23 following it, he noticed that both ears and the heart of the ass were missing. Flaming Mane’s whole being was blazing with fury as he demanded of Dusty, ‘Ha! You blasted villain! What is this dastardly act of yours? Turning my royal share of this food into your leavings24 by eating of it before I did? For you have eaten this animal’s heart and ears.’
Dusty replied humbly and respectfully, ‘O, my lord, please, please do not speak so harshly. This ass was born without a heart or ears. Or else, how would he have come here, seen you, fled in terror, only to come back again? For it is very wisely observed:
(32) He came, he saw, he bolted, having seen,
having glimpsed your horrible mien.
He ran; yet he came back again,
the fool… he surely lacked heart and ears.’
Flaming Mane being mollified by Dusty’s words, believed them to be true. He divided the carcass with the jackal and ate his own portion.
‘This is why I said to you that I was not an ass like Long Ears,’ said Red Face wryly. Then he added in a burst of anger, ‘You nincompoop, you played a mean trick on me, but, like Yudhisthira, you spoilt your game by blurting out the truth. As these lines say:
(33) The fake who unmindful of self-interest
spills the beans, is slow-witted;
another Yudhisṣtṭhira at best;
he is certain to lose what he gained…’
‘How did that happen?’ enquired Hideous Jaws. And then Red Face began the tale of The Potter who played the hero.
In a certain settlement there once lived a potter named Yudhisthira.25 One day as he was entering his courtyard at a very fast pace, drunk, he carelessly stumbled on a half-broken pot with sharp edges and fell down head-on. The jagged rim of the pot made a deep gash on his forehead cutting it open. With blood flowing profusely and drenching his whole body, he somehow managed to get on to his feet. As the wound was treated without any skill, it festered and healed badly leaving a horrible scar on the potter’s forehead.
Some time later, a cruel famine struck that region and the potter pinched by terrible hunger left his place and in the company of some palace-guards he went to another land where he too took up service as a palace-guard. The king of that land noticed the thickened, ragged and horrid-looking scar left by the potsherd and thinking, ‘O, what a great hero this man must be for he has taken a wound in front, on his brow,’ looked upon our fake hero, the potter, with even greater favour, giving him greater honour and finer gifts than to all the others. Even the princes became intensely envious seeing the exceptional favour shown to the potter, but said nothing in the palace about it for fear of the king.
Now one day a great review was being held in honour of veteran heroes; elephants were arrayed, horses caparisoned and warriors stood in line for the royal inspection. The king turned to the potter at his side during the introductory ceremony and asked, ‘O, prince, what is your name? And your clan? And in which battle did you receive the blow that left honour indelibly printed on your brow?’
To this the potter replied, ‘My lord, I am a potter by birth, and my name is Yudhiṣṭhira. And this scar that you see is not a sword-wound. One day as I was hurrying through the courtyard littered with broken pots, being drunk and unsteady, I stumbled over a broken pot and fell flat on my face. The jagged potsherd made a deep gash which festered and left this hideous scar.’
The king was flabbergasted, ‘O, you gods; how badly deceived have I been by this potter whom I took to be a brave prince. He deserves a good cuffing,’ and straight away gave orders for that to be done. When a good cuffing had been administered, the potter observed, ‘My lord, i
t is not right that you should treat me in this manner; you should first observe the dexterity of my actions in battle.’
‘No, no, my fine fellow,’ replied the king, ‘you may be a veritable treasury of excellent qualities; but you had better leave; remember the well-known saying:
(34) You are brave, your looks too are fine,
dear boy; you have acquired knowledge;
but you come of a lineage
where no elephant is slain.’
‘And what is that all about?’ asked the potter. Then the king began the tale of The Jackal mothered by the Lioness.
Once, a lion and his wife lived in a certain forest. One day the lioness gave birth to twins. Every day the lion went hunting, killed deer or some other prey and brought it to the lioness. But once it happened that though he roamed all through the forest, the lion failed to find anything. The glorious divinity, the sun, was already behind the Western Mountain.26 As he was on his way home, the lion came upon a baby jackal lying on the trail. Looking at it he thought, ‘It is just a baby,’ and picking it up gently, he carried it between his teeth with great care and brought it home alive. He then handed it over to the lioness.
‘Have you brought any food, beloved?’ asked the lioness.
‘No, my dearest,’ answered the lion, ‘I could find nothing today except this tiny jackal cub; and I could not find it in my heart to kill him, thinking, “After all, he is one of our own kind and a baby at that.” There is a saying which goes as follows:
(35) Even when your life is in great peril
never strike a woman, a child, a Brāhmana,
or an ascetic wearing Śiva’s symbol27
specially not those who place their trust in you.