Hindu literature : Comprising The Book of good counsels, Nala and Damayanti, The Ramayana, and Sakoontala
Hindu literature : Comprising The Book of good counsels, Nala and Damayanti, The Ramayana, and Sakoontala-3
'By their own deeds men go downward, by them men mount upward all,
Like the diggers of a well, and like the builders of a wall.'
Advancement is slow—but that is in the nature of things—
'Rushes down the hill the crag, which upward 'twas so hard to roll:
So to virtue slowly rises—so to vice quick sinks the soul.'
'Very good,' observed Karataka; 'but what is all this talk about?'
'Why! don't you see our Royal Master there, and how he came home without
drinking? I know he has been horribly frightened,' said Damanaka.
'How do you know it?' asked the other.
'By my perception—at a glance!' replied Damanaka; 'and I mean to make
out of this occasion that which shall put his Majesty at my disposal,'
'Now,' exclaimed Karataka, 'it is thou who art ignorant about service—
'Who speaks unasked, or comes unbid,
Or counts on favor—will be chid.'
'I ignorant about service!' said Damanaka; 'no, no, my friend, I know
the secret of it—
'Wise, modest, constant, ever close at hand,
Not weighing but obeying all command,
Such servant by a Monarch's throne may stand.'
'In any case, the King often rates thee,' remarked Karataka, 'for coming
to the presence unsummoned.'
'A dependent,' replied Damanaka, 'should nevertheless present himself;
he must make himself known to the great man, at any risk—
'Pitiful, that fearing failure, therefore no beginning makes,
Who forswears his daily dinner for the chance of stomach-aches?'
and besides, to be near is at last to be needful;—is it not said—
'Nearest to the King is dearest, be thy merit low or high;
Women, creeping plants, and princes, twine round that which groweth nigh.'
'Well,' inquired Karataka, 'what wilt thou say, being come to him?'
'First,' replied Damanaka, 'I will discover if his Majesty is well
affected to me.'
'How do you compass that?' asked the other.
'Oh, easily! by a look, a word,' answered Damanaka; 'and that
ascertained, I will proceed to speak what will put him at my disposal.'
'I can't see how you can venture to speak,' objected the other,
'without an opportunity—
'If Vrihaspati, the Grave,
Spoke a sentence out of season,
Even Vrihaspati would have
Strong rebuke for such unreason.'
'Pray don't imagine I shall speak unseasonably,' interrupted Damanaka;
'if that is all you fear, I will start at once.'
'Go, then,' said Karataka; 'and may you be as lucky as you hope.'
"Thereupon Damanaka set out for the lair of King Tawny-hide; putting on,
as he approached it, the look of one greatly disconcerted. The Rajah
observed him coming, and gave permission that he should draw near; of
which Damanaka availing himself, made reverential prostration of the
eight members and sat down upon his haunches.
'You have come at last, then, Sir Jackal!' growled his Majesty.
'Great Monarch!' humbly replied Damanaka, 'my service is not worthy of
laying at your imperial feet, but a servant should attend when he can
perform a service, and therefore I am come—
'When Kings' ears itch, they use a straw to scratch 'em;
When Kings' foes plot, they get wise men to match 'em.'
'H'm!' growled the Lion.
'Your Majesty suspects my intellect, I fear,' continued the
Jackal,'after so long an absence from your Majesty's feet; but, if I may
say so, it is still sound.'
'H'm!' growled the Lion again.
'A king, may it please your Majesty, should know how to estimate his
servants, whatever their position—
'Pearls are dull in leaden settings, but the setter is to blame;
Glass will glitter like the ruby, dulled with dust—are they the same?
'And a fool may tread on jewels, setting in his crown mere glass;
Yet, at selling, gems are gems, and fardels but for fardels pass.'
'Servants, gracious liege! are good or bad as they are entertained. Is
it not written?—
'Horse and weapon, lute and volume, man and woman, gift of speech,
Have their uselessness or uses in the One who owneth each.'
'And if I have been traduced to your Majesty as a dull fellow, that hath
not made me so—
'Not disparagement nor slander kills the spirit of the brave;
Fling a torch down, upward ever burns the brilliant flame it gave.'
'Accept then, Sire, from the humblest of your slaves his very humble
counsel—for
'Wisdom from the mouth of children be it overpast of none;
What man scorns to walk by lamplight in the absence of the sun?'
'Good Damanaka,' said King Tawny-hide, somewhat appeased, 'how is it
that thou, so wise a son of our first minister, hast been absent all
this while from our Court? But now speak thy mind fearlessly: what
wouldst thou?'
'Will your Majesty deign to answer one question?' said Damanaka.
'Wherefore came He back from the river without drinking?'
'Hush!' whispered the King, 'thou hast hit right upon my trouble. I knew
no one unto whom I might confide it; but thou seemest a faithful fellow,
and I will tell thee. Listen, then,' continued his Majesty in an
agitated whisper, 'there is some awful beast that was never seen before
in this wood here; and we shall have to leave it, look you. Did you hear
by chance the inconceivable great roar he gave? What a strong beast it
must be to have such a voice!'
'May it please your Majesty, I did hear the noise,' said the Jackal,
'and there is doubtless cause for terrible apprehension therein; but
take comfort, my Liege, he is no minister who bids thee prepare for
either war or resignation. All will go well, and your Majesty will learn
by this difficulty which be your best servants,'
'Good Jackal,' said Tawny-hide, 'I am horribly frightened about it.'
'I can see that,' thought Damanaka; but he only said, 'Fear nothing, my
liege, while thy servant survives,'
'What shall I do?' asked the King.
'It is well to encourage those who can avert disaster. If your Majesty
condescended now to bestow some favor on Karataka and the other——'
'It shall be done,' said the Rajah; and, summoning the other Jackals, he
gave them and Damanaka a magnificent gift of flesh, and they left the
presence, undertaking to meet the threatened danger.
'But, brother,' began Karataka,'haven't we eaten the King's dinner
without knowing what the danger is which we are to meet, and whether we
can obviate it?'
'Hold thy peace,' said Damanaka, laughing; 'I know very well what the
danger is! It was a bull, aha! that bellowed—a bull, my brother—whose
beef you and I could pick, much more the King our master.'
'And why not tell him so?' asked Karataka.
'What! and quiet his Majesty's fears! And where would our splendid
dinner have been then? No, no, my friend—
'Set not your lord at ease; for, doing that,
Might starve you as it starved "Curd-ear" the Cat.'
'Who was Curd-ear, the Cat?' inquired Karataka. Damanaka related:—
The Story of the Cat Who Served the Lion
"Far away in the North, on a mountain named 'Thousand-Crags,' there
lived a lion called 'Mighty-heart'; and he was much annoyed by a certain
mouse, who made a custom of nibbling his mane while he lay asleep in his
den. The Lion would wake in a great rage at finding the ends of his
magnificent mane made ragged, but the little mouse ran into his hole,
and he could never catch it. After much consideration he went down to a
village, and got a Cat named Curd-ear to come to his cave with much
persuasion. He kept the Cat royally on all kinds of dainties, and slept
comfortably without having his mane nibbled, as the mouse would now
never venture out. Whenever the Lion heard the mouse scratching about,
that was always a signal for regaling the Cat in a most distinguished
style. But one day, the wretched mouse being nearly starved, he took
courage to creep timidly from his hole, and was directly pounced upon by
Curd-ear and killed. After that the Lion heard no more of the mouse, and
quite left off his regular entertainments of the Cat. No!" concluded
Damanaka, "we will keep our mouse alive for his Majesty."
So conversing, the Jackals went away to find Lusty-life the Bull, and
upon discovering him, Karataka squatted down with great dignity at the
foot of a tree, while Damanaka approached to accost him.
'Bull,' said Damanaka, 'I am the warder of this forest under the King
Tawny-hide, and Karataka the Jackal there is his General. The General
bids thee come before him, or else instantly depart from the wood. It
were better for thee to obey, for his anger is terrible,'
'Thereupon Lusty-life, knowing nothing of the country customs, advanced
at once to Karataka, made the respectful prostration of the eight
members, and said timidly, 'My Lord General! what dost thou bid me do?—
'Strength serves Reason. Saith the Mahout, when he beats the brazen drum,
"Ho! ye elephants, to this work must your mightinesses come."'
'Bull,' answered Karataka, 'thou canst remain in the wood no longer
unless thou goest directly to lay thyself at our Royal master's imperial
feet.'
'My Lord,' replied the Bull, 'give me a guarantee of safety, and I will
go.'
'Bull,' said Karataka, 'thou art foolish; fear nothing—
"When the King of Chedi cursed him,
Krishna scorned to make reply;
Lions roar the thunder quiet,
Jackals'-yells they let go by."
Our Lord the King will not vouchsafe his anger to thee; knowest thou
not—
'Mighty natures war with mighty: when the raging tempests blow,
O'er the green rice harmless pass they, but they lay the palm-trees low,'
'So the Jackals, keeping Lusty-life in the rear, went towards the palace
of King Tawny-hide; where the Rajah received them with much
graciousness, and bade them sit down.
'Have you seen him?' asked the King.
'We have seen him, your Majesty,' answered Damanaka; 'it is quite as
your Majesty expected—the creature has enormous strength, and wishes
to see your Majesty. Will you be seated, Sire, and prepare yourself—it
will never do to appear alarmed at a noise.'
'Oh, if it was only a noise,' began the Rajah.
'Ah, but the cause, Sire! that was what had to be found out; like the
secret of Swing-ear the Spirit.'
'And who might Swing-ear be?' asked the King.
The Story of the Terrible Bell
"A goblin, your Majesty," responded Damanaka, "it seemed so, at least,
to the good people of Brahmapoora. A thief had stolen a bell from the
city, and was making off with that plunder, and more, into the
Sri-parvata hills, when he was killed by a tiger. The bell lay in the
jungle till some monkeys picked it up, and amused themselves by
constantly ringing it. The townspeople found the bones of the man, and
heard the noise of the bell all about the hills; so they gave out that
there was a terrible devil there, whose ears rang like bells as he swung
them about, and whose delight was to devour men. Every one, accordingly,
was leaving the town, when a peasant woman named Karála, who liked
belief the better for a little proof, came to the Rajah.
'Highness!' she observed, 'for a consideration I could settle this
Swing-ear.'
'You could!' exclaimed the Rajah.
'I think so!' repeated the woman.
'Give her a consideration forthwith,' said the Rajah.
"Karála, who had her own ideas upon the matter, took the present and set
out. Being come to the hills, she made a circle, and did homage to
Gunputtee, without whom nothing prospers. Then, taking some fruit
she had brought, such as monkeys love extremely, she scattered it up and
down in the wood, and withdrew to watch. Very soon the monkeys finding
the fruit, put down the bell, to do justice to it, and the woman picking
it up, bore it back to the town, where she became an object of uncommon
veneration. We, indeed," concluded Damanaka, "bring you a Bull instead
of a bell—your Majesty shall now see him!"
"Thereupon Lusty-life was introduced, and, the interview passing off
well, he remained many days in the forest on excellent terms with the
Lion.
'One day another Lion, named 'Stiff-ears,' the brother of King
Tawny-hide, came to visit him. The King received him with all imaginable
respect, bade him be seated, and rose from his throne to go and kill
some beasts for his refreshment.
'May it please your Majesty,' interposed the Bull, 'a deer was slain
to-day—where is its flesh?'
'Damanaka and his brother know best,' said the King.
'Let us ascertain if there be any,' suggested the Bull.
'It is useless,' said the King, laughing—'they leave none,'
'What!' exclaimed the Bull, 'have those Jackals eaten a whole deer?'
'Eaten it, spoiled it, and given it away,' answered Tawny-hide; 'they
always do so,'
'And this without your Majesty's sanction?' asked the Bull.
'Oh! certainly not with my sanction,' said the King.
'Then,' exclaimed the Bull, 'it is too bad: and in Ministers too!—
'Narrow-necked to let out little, big of belly to keep much,
As a flagon is—the Vizir of a Sultan should be such.'
'No wealth will stand such waste, your Majesty—
'He who thinks a minute little, like a fool misuses more;
He who counts a cowry nothing, being wealthy, will be poor.'
'A king's treasury, my liege, is the king's life.'
'Good brother,' observed Stiff-ears, who had heard what the Bull said,
'these Jackals are your Ministers of Home and Foreign Affairs—they
should not have direction of the Treasury. They are old servants, too,
and you know the saying—
'Brahmans, soldiers, these and kinsmen—of the three set none in charge:
For the Brahman, tho' you rack him, yields no treasure small or large;
And the soldier, being trusted, writes his quittance with his sword,
And the kinsman cheats his kindred by the charter of the word;
But a servant old in service, worse than any one is thought,
Who, by long-tried license fearless, knows his master's anger nought.'
Ministers, my royal brother, are often like obstinate swellings that
want squeezing, and yours must be kept in order.'
'They are not particularly obedient, I confess,' said Tawny-hide.
'It is very wrong,' replied Stiff-ears; 'and if you will be advised by
me—as we have banqueted enough to-day—you will appoint this
grain-eating and sagacious Bull your Superintendent of Stores.'
'It shall be so,' exclaimed the King.
'Lusty-life was accordingly appointed to serve out the provisions, and
for many days Tawny-hide showed him favor beyond all others in the
Court.
"Now the Jackals soon found that food was no longer so freely provided
by this arrangement as before, and they met to consult about it.
'It is all our own fault,' said Damanaka, 'and people must suffer for
their own mistakes. You know who said—
"I that could not leave alone
'Streak-o'-Gold,' must therefore moan.
She that took the House-wife's place
Lost the nose from off her face.
Take this lesson to thy heart—
Fools for folly suffer smart."
'No!' said Karataka, 'how was it?' Damanaka related:—
The Story of the Prince and the Procuress
"In the city of 'Golden-Streets' there reigned a valorous King, named
Vira-vikrama, whose officer of justice was one day taking away to
punishment a certain Barber, when he was stopped by a strolling
mendicant, who held him by the skirts, and cried out, 'Punish not this
man—punish them that do wrong of their own knowledge.' Being asked his
meaning, he recited the foregoing verses, and, being still further
questioned, he told this story—
"I am Prince Kandarpa-ketu, son of the King of Ceylon. Walking one day
in my summer-garden, I heard a merchant-captain narrating how that out
at sea, deep under water, on the fourteenth day of the moon, he had seen
what was like nothing but the famous tree of Paradise, and sitting under
it a lady of most lustrous beauty, bedecked with strings of pearls like
Lukshmi herself, reclining, with a lute in her hands, on what appeared
to be a golden couch crusted all over with precious stones. At once I
engaged the captain and his ship, and steered to the spot of which he
told me. On reaching it I beheld the beautiful apparition as he had
described it, and, transported with the exquisite beauty of the lady, I
leapt after her into the sea. In a moment I found myself in a city of
gold; and in an apartment of a golden palace, surrounded by young and
beautiful girls, I found the Sea-queen. She perceived my approach, and
sent an attendant with a courteous message to meet me. In reply to my
questions, I learned that the lady was the Princess Ratnamanjari,
daughter of the King of All the Spirits—and how she had made a vow that
whoever should first come to see her golden city, with his own eyes,
should marry her. So I married her by the form called Gundharva, or
'Union by mutual consent,' and spent many and happy days in her
delightful society. One day she took me aside, and said, 'Dear Prince!
all these delights, and I myself, are thine to enjoy; only that picture
yonder, of the Fairy Streak-o'-Gold, that thou must never touch!' For a
long time I observed this injunction; at last, impelled by resistless
curiosity, I laid my hand on the picture of 'Streak-o'-Gold,' In one
instant her little foot, lovely as the lotus-blossom, advanced from out
of the painting, and launched me through sea and air into my own
country. Since that I have been a miserable wanderer; and passing
through this city, I chanced to lodge at a Cowkeeper's hut, and saw the
truth of this Barber's affair. The herdsman returned at night with his
cattle, and found his wife talking with the wife of the Barber, who is
no better than a bawd. Enraged at this, the man beat his wife, tied her
to the milking-post, and fell asleep. In the dead of the night the
Barber's wife came back, and said to the woman, 'He, whom thou knowest,
is burnt with the cruel fire of thine absence, and lies nigh to death;
go therefore and console him, and I will tie myself to the post until
thou returnest.' This was done, and the Cowkeeper presently awoke. 'Ah!
thou light thing!' he said jeeringly, 'why dost not thou keep promise,
and meet thy gallant?' The Barber's wife could make no reply; whereat
becoming incensed, the man cried out, 'What! dost thou scorn to speak to
me? I will cut thy nose off!' And so he did, and then lay down to sleep
again. Very soon the Cowkeeper's wife came back and asked if 'all was
well.' 'Look at my face!' said the Barber's wife, 'and you will see if
all is well.' The woman could do nothing but take her place again,
while the Barber's wife, picking up the severed nose, and at a sad loss
how to account for it, went to her house. In the morning, before it was
light, the Barber called to her to bring his box of razors, and she
bringing one only, he flung it away in a passion. 'Oh, the knave!' she
cried out, directly, aloud, 'Neighbors, neighbors! he has cut my nose
off!' and so she took him before the officers. The Cowkeeper, meantime,
wondering at his wife's patience, made some inquiry about her nose;
whereto she replied, 'Cruel wretch! thou canst not harm a virtuous
woman. If Yama and the seven guardians of the world know me chaste, then
be my face unmaimed!' The herdsman hastened to fetch a light, and
finding her features unaltered, he flung himself at her feet, and begged
forgiveness. For,
'Never tires the fire of burning, never wearies death of slaying,
Nor the sea of drinking rivers, nor the bright-eyed of betraying,'
Thereupon the King's officer dismissed Kandarpa-ketu, and did justice by
setting the Barber free, shaving the head of the Barber's wife, and
punishing the Cowkeeper's.
'That is my story,' concluded Damanaka, 'and thence I said that we had
no reason to complain.'
'Well, but we must do something,' said Karataka.
'Yes! How shall we break the friendship of the King with the Bull?'
asked the other.
'It is very strong,' observed Karataka.
'But we can do it,' replied the other.
'What force would fail to win, fraud can attain:—
The Crow despatched the Serpent by a chain.'
'How did that occur?' asked Karataka.
Damanaka related:—
The Story of the Black Snake and the Golden Chain
"A pair of Crows had their abode in a certain tree, the hollow of which
was occupied by a black snake, who had often devoured their young. The
Hen-bird, finding herself breeding again, thus addressed her mate:
'Husband, we must leave this tree; we shall never rear young ones while
this black snake lives here! You know the saw—
'From false friends that breed thee strife,
From a house with serpents rife,
Saucy slaves and brawling wife—
Get thee out, to save thy life.'
'My dear,' replied the Crow, 'you need not fear; I have put up with him
till I am tired. Now I will put an end to him.'
'How can you fight with a great black snake like that?' said the
Hen-bird.
'Doubt nothing,' answered the other—
'He that hath sense hath strength; the fool is weak:—
The Lion proud died by the Hare so meek,'
'How came that about?' asked the Hen-Crow.
'Thus,' replied her mate:—
The Story of the Lion and the Old Hare
"On the Mandara mountain there lived a Lion named Fierce-of-heart, and
he was perpetually making massacre of all the wild animals. The thing
grew so bad that the beasts held a public meeting, and drew up a
respectful remonstrance to the Lion in these words:—
"Wherefore should your Majesty thus make carnage of us all? If it may
please you, we ourselves will daily furnish a beast for your Majesty's
meal." The Lion responded, "If that arrangement is more agreeable to
you, be it so."; and from that time a beast was allotted to him daily,
and daily devoured. One day it came to the turn of an old hare to supply
the royal table, who reflected to himself as he walked along, "I can but
die, and I will go to my death leisurely."
"Now Fierce-of-heart, the lion, was pinched with hunger, and seeing the
Hare so approaching he roared out, "How darest thou thus delay in
coming?"
'Sire,' replied the Hare, 'I am not to blame. I was detained on the road
by another lion, who exacted an oath from me to return when I should
have informed your Majesty.'
'Go,' exclaimed King Fierce-of-heart in a rage; 'show me, instantly,
where this insolent villain of a lion lives.'
"The Hare led the way accordingly till he came to a deep well, whereat
he stopped, and said, 'Let my lord the King come hither and behold him.'
The Lion approached, and beheld his own reflection in the water of the
well, upon which, in his passion, he directly flung himself, and so
perished."
"I have heard your story," said the Hen-Crow, "but what plan do you
propose?"
"My dear," replied her mate, "the Rajah's son comes here every day to
bathe in the stream. When he takes off his gold anklet, and lays it on
the stone, do thou bring it in thy beak to the hollow of the tree, and
drop it in there." Shortly after the Prince came, as was his wont, and
taking off his dress and ornaments, the Hen-Crow did as had been
determined; and while the servants of the Prince were searching in the
hollow, there they found the Black Snake, which they at once dispatched.
'Said I not well,' continued Damanaka, 'that stratagem excels force?'
'It was well said,' replied Karataka; 'go! and may thy path be
prosperous!
'With that Damanaka repaired to the King, and having done homage, thus
addressed him:—
"Your Majesty, there is a dreadful thing on my mind, and I am come to
disclose it."
'Speak!' said the King, with much graciousness.
'Your Majesty,' said the Jackal, 'this Bull has been detected of
treason. To my face he has spoken contemptuously of the three
prerogatives of the throne, unto which he aspires.'
"At these words King Tawny-hide stood aghast.
'Your Majesty,' continued Damanaka, 'has placed him above us all in the
Court. Sire! he must be displaced!—
'Teeth grown loose, and wicked-hearted ministers, and poison-trees,
Pluck them by the roots together; 'Tis the thing that giveth ease,'
'Good Jackal,' said the King, after some silence; 'this is indeed
dreadful; but my regard for the Bull is very great, and it is said—
'Long-tried friends are friends to cleave to—never leave thou these i' the lurch:—
What man shuns the fire as sinful for that once it burned a church?'
'That is written of discarding old servants, may it please your
Majesty,' observed Damanaka; 'and this Bull is quite a stranger,'
'Wondrous strange!' replied the Lion; 'when I have advanced and
protected him that he should plot against me!'
'Your Majesty,' said the Jackal, 'knows what has been written—
'Raise an evil soul to honor, and his evil bents remain;
Bind a cur's tail ne'er so straightly, yet it curleth up again.'
'How, in sooth, should Trust and Honor change the evil nature's root?
Though one watered them with nectar, poison-trees bear deadly fruit.'
I have now at least warned your Majesty: if evil comes, the fault is not
mine,'
'It will not do to condemn the Bull without inquiry,' mused the King;
then he said aloud, 'shall we admonish him, think you, Damanaka?'
'No, no, Sire!' exclaimed the Jackal, eagerly; 'that would spoil all our
precautions—
'Safe within the husk of silence guard the seed of counsel so
That it break not—being broken, then the seedling will not grow,'
What is to be done must be done with despatch. After censuring his
treason, would your Majesty still trust the traitor?—
'Whoso unto ancient fondness takes again a faithless friend,
Like she-mules that die conceiving, in his folly finds his end,'
'But wherein can the Bull injure me?' asked Tawny-hide; 'tell me that!'
'Sire,' replied the Jackal, how can I tell it?—
'Ask who his friends are, ere you scorn your foe;
The Wagtail foiled the sea, that did not so,'
'How could that be?' demanded King Tawny-hide.
'The Jackal related:—
The Story of the Wagtail and the Sea
"On the shore of the Southern Sea there dwelt a pair of Wagtails. The
Hen-bird was about to lay, and thus addressed her mate:—
'Husband, we must look about for a fit place to lay my eggs.'
'My dear,' replied the Cock-bird, 'will not this spot do?'
'This spot!' exclaimed the Hen; 'why, the tide overflows it.'
'Good dame,' said the Cock, 'am I so pitiful a fellow that the Sea will
venture to wash the eggs out of my nest?'
'You are my very good Lord,' replied the Hen, with a laugh; 'but still
there is a great difference between you and the Sea.'
"Afterwards, however, at the desire of her mate, she consented to lay
her eggs on the sea-beach. Now the Ocean had overheard all this, and,
bent upon displaying its strength, it rose and washed away the nest and
eggs. Overwhelmed with grief, the Hen-bird flew to her mate, and
cried:—
'Husband, the terrible disaster has occurred! My eggs arc gone!'
'Be of good heart! my Life,' answered he.
"And therewith he called a meeting of fowls, and went with them into the
presence of Gurud, the Lord of the birds. When the Master of the Mighty
Wing had listened to their complaint, he conveyed it to the knowledge of
the God Narayen, who keeps, and kills, and makes alive the world. The
almighty mandate given, Gurud bound it upon his forehead, and bore it to
the Ocean, which, so soon as it heard the will of Narayen, at once gave
back the eggs.
'How, indeed,' concluded Damanaka, 'should I judge of the Bull's power,
not knowing who supports him?'
'By what signs, then,' asked the King, 'may I conclude him a traitor?'
'If he comes into the presence with his horns lowered for goring, as one
that expects the fight. That,' replied the Jackal, 'will convince your
Majesty,'
'Thereupon Damanaka the Jackal withdrew, and betook himself towards the
Bull, upon perceiving whom he approached slowly, with all the air of one
greatly distressed.
'Good master Jackal,' said Lusty-life, 'what goes amiss with thee?'
'All goes amiss with such as serve wicked masters,' replied the Jackal.
'But what ails thee?' asked the Bull.
'Alas!' answered the Jackal, 'what can I say in such a strait!—
'Even as one who grasps a serpent, drowning in the bitter sea,
Death to hold and death to loosen—such is life's perplexity.'
'And therewithal the Jackal heaved a deep sigh, and squatted down.
'But, good friend,' said the Bull, 'at least tell me what is in thy
mind.'
'Bull,' began Damanaka, 'it is a King's secret, and should not be
spoken; but thou didst come here upon my safeguard, and as I hope for
the life to come, I will tell thee of what touches thee so nearly.
Listen!—the heart of the King is turned against thee! he hath sworn
secretly that he will kill thee and feast upon thy flesh.'
'Then Lusty-life the Bull was sorely troubled, and he fell a-musing
thus—
"Woman's love rewards the worthless—kings of knaves exalters be;
Wealth attends the selfish niggard, and the cloud rains on the sea."
'Can this be the Jackal's doing?' he reflected. Going with honest folk
will not make one honest—
'Many a knave wins fair opinions standing in fair company,
As the sooty soorma pleases, lighted by a brilliant eye.'
Then he said aloud, 'wherein can I have angered the King? Do kings hate
without cause? I can tell nothing, except that there is no happiness
which abides long—
'Where the azure lotus blossoms, there the alligators hide;
In the sandal-tree are serpents. Pain and pleasure live allied.'
I thought his Majesty noble as the sandal-tree; but that, indeed, is not
wholly noble—
'Rich the sandal—yet no part is but a vile thing habits there;
Snake and wasp haunt root and blossom; on the boughs sit ape and bear.'
'Bull,' said Damanaka, 'I knew the King of old for one whose tongue was
honey and whose heart was poison.'
'But how very hard!' said the Bull, 'that he, being a lion, should
attack me, an innocent eater of grass!'
'It is very hard!' said the Jackal.
'Who can have set him against me?' asked the Bull.
'Being so, it cannot be bettered,' replied the Jackal, 'whoever did it—
'As a bracelet of crystal, once broke, is not mended;
So the favor of princes, once altered, is ended.'
'Yes,' said the Bull, 'and a king incensed is terrible—
'Wrath of kings, and rage of lightning—both be very full of dread;
But one falls on one man only—one strikes many victims dead,'
Still, I can but die—and I will die fighting! When death is certain,
and no hope left but in battle, that is the time for war,'
'It is so,' said the Jackal.
'Having weighed all this, Lusty-life inquired of the Jackal by what
signs he might conclude the King's hostile intentions.
'If he glowers upon thee,' answered Damanaka, 'and awaits thee with ears
pricked, tail stiffened, paw upraised, and muzzle agape, then thou
mayest get thee to thy weapons like a Bull of spirit, for
'All men scorn the soulless coward who his manhood doth forget:—
On a lifeless heap of ashes fearlessly the foot is set,'
'Then Damanaka the Jackal returned to the Lion, and said to him:—
'If it please your Majesty, the traitor is now coming; let your Majesty
be on your guard, with ears pricked and paw upraised.'
'The Bull meanwhile approached, and observing the hostile attitude of
King Tawny-hide, he also lowered his horns, and prepared for the combat.
A terrible battle ensued, and at the last King Tawny-hide slew
Lusty-life the Bull. Now when the Bull was dead, the Lion was very
sorrowful, and as he sat on his throne lamenting, he said—
'I repent me of this deed!—
'As when an Elephant's life-blood is spilt,
Another hath the spoils—mine is the guilt.'
'Sire,' replied the Jackal, 'a King over-merciful is like a Brahman
that eats all things equally. May all your Majesty's enemies perish as
did this Bull.'
"Thus endeth," said the Sage Vishnu-Sarman, "the 'Parting of Friends.'"
"We are gratified exceedingly thereby," replied the Sons of the King.
"Let me then close it thus," said their Preceptor—
'So be friendship never parted,
But among the evil-hearted;
Time's sure step drag, soon or later,
To his judgment, such a Traitor;
Lady Lukshmi, of her grace,
Grant good fortune to this place;
And you, Royal boys! and boys of times to be
In this fair fable-garden wander free.'
WAR
When the next day of instruction was come, the King's sons spake to the
Sage, Vishnu-Sarman.
"Master," said they, "we are Princes, and the sons of Princes, and we
earnestly desire to hear thee discourse upon War."
"I am to speak on what shall please you," replied Vishnu-Sarman. "Hear
now, therefore, of 'War,' whose opening is thus:—
'Between the peoples of Peacock and Swan
War raged; and evenly the contest ran,
Until the Swans to trust the Crows began.'
'And how was all that?' asked the sons of the Rajah. Vishnu-Sarman
proceeded to relate—
The Battle of the Swans and Peacocks
"In the Isle of Camphor there is a lake called 'Lotus-water,' and
therein a Swan-Royal, named 'Silver-sides,' had his residence. The birds
of the marsh and the mere had elected him King, in full council of all
the fowls—for a people with no ruler is like a ship that is without a
helmsman. One day King Silver-sides, with his courtiers, was quietly
reposing on a couch of well-spread lotus-blossoms, when a Crane, named
'Long-bill,' who had just arrived from foreign parts, entered the
presence with an obeisance, and sat down.
'What news from abroad, Long-bill?' asked his Majesty.
'Great news, may it please you,' answered the Crane, 'and therefore have
I hastened hither. Will your Majesty hear me?'
'Speak!' said King Silver-sides.
'You must know, my Liege,' began the Crane, 'that over all the birds of
the Vindhya mountains in Jambudwipa a Peacock is King, and his name is
'Jewel-plume,' I was looking for food about a certain burnt jungle
there, when some of his retainers discovered me, and asked my name and
country. 'I am a vassal of King Silver-sides, Lord of the Island of
Camphor,' I replied, 'and I am travelling in foreign lands for my
pleasure.' Upon that the birds asked me which country, my own or theirs,
and which King, appeared to me superior. 'How can you ask?' I replied;
'the island of Camphor is, as it were, Heaven itself, and its King a
heaven-born ruler. To dwellers in a barren land like yours how can I
describe them? Come for yourselves, and see the country where I live.'
Thereupon, your Majesty, the birds were exceedingly offended, as one
might expect—