The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
and so their fight went on. And the virtuous Karataka, seeing it,
said to Damanaka--"Why have you brought calamity on our master to gain
your own ends? Wealth obtained by oppression of subjects, friendship
obtained by deceit, and a lady-love gained by violence, will not
remain long. But enough; whoever says much to a person who despises
good advice, incurs thereby misfortune, as Súchímukha from the ape."
Story of the Monkeys, the Firefly, and the Bird. [40]
Once on a time, there were some monkeys wandering in a troop in
a wood. In the cold weather they saw a firefly and thought it was
real fire. So they placed grass and leaves upon it, and tried to
warm themselves at it, and one of them fanned the firefly with his
breath. A bird named Súchímukha, when he saw it, said to him, "This
is not fire, this is a firefly, do not fatigue yourself." Though the
monkey heard, he did not desist, and thereupon the bird came down from
the tree, and earnestly dissuaded him, at which the ape was annoyed,
and throwing a stone at Súchímukha, crushed him.
"So one ought not to admonish him, who will not act on good advice. Why
then should I speak? you well know that you brought about this quarrel
with a mischievous object, and that which is done with evil intentions
cannot turn out well."
Story of Dharmabuddhi and Dushtabuddhi. [41]
For instance, there were long ago in a certain village two brothers,
the sons of a merchant, Dharmabuddhi and Dushtabuddhi by name. They
left their father's house and went to another country to get wealth,
and with great difficulty acquired two thousand gold dínárs. And
with them they returned to their own city. And they buried those
dínárs at the foot of a tree, with the exception of one hundred,
which they divided between them in equal parts, and so they lived in
their father's house.
But one day Dushtabuddhi went by himself and dug up of his own accord
those dínárs, which were buried at the foot of the tree, for he was
vicious and extravagant. [42] And after one month only had passed,
he said to Dharmabuddhi: "Come, my elder brother, let us divide those
dínárs; I have expenses." When Dharmabuddhi heard that, he consented,
and went and dug with him, where he had deposited the dínárs. And when
they did not find any dínárs in the place where they had buried them,
the treacherous Dushtabuddhi said to Dharmabuddhi: "You have taken
away the dínárs, so give me my half." But Dharmabuddhi answered: "I
have not taken them, you must have taken them." So a quarrel arose,
and Dushtabuddhi hit Dharmabuddhi on the head with a stone, and
dragged him into the king's court. There they both stated their case,
and as the king's officers could not decide it, they were proceeding
to detain them both for the trial by ordeal. Then Dushtabuddhi said
to the king's officers; "The tree, at the foot of which these dínárs
were placed, will depose, as a witness, that they were taken away by
this Dharmabuddhi. And they were exceedingly astonished, but said,
"Well, we will ask it to-morrow." Then they let both Dharmabuddhi and
Dushtabuddhi go, after they had given bail, and they went separately
to their house.
But Dushtabuddhi told the whole matter to his father, and secretly
giving him money, said; "Hide in the trunk of the tree and be my
witness." His father consented, so he took him and placed him at night
in the capacious trunk of the tree, and returned home. And in the
morning those two brothers went with the king's officers, and asked
the tree, who took away those dínárs. And their father, who was hidden
in the trunk of the tree, replied in a loud clear voice: "Dharmabuddhi
took away the dínárs." When the king's officers heard this surprising
utterance, they said; "Surely Dushtabuddhi must have hidden some one
in the trunk." So they introduced smoke into the trunk of the tree,
which fumigated the father of Dushtabuddhi so, that he fell out of the
trunk on to the ground, and died. When the king's officers saw this,
they understood the whole matter, and they compelled Dushtabuddhi to
give up the dínárs to Dharmabuddhi. And so they cut off the hands
and cut out the tongue of Dushtabuddhi, and banished him, and they
honoured Dharmabuddhi as a man who deserved his name. [43]
"So you see that a deed done with an unrighteous mind is sure to
bring calamity, therefore one should do it with a righteous mind,
as the crane did to the snake."
Story of the Crane, the Snake and the Mungoose. [44]
Once on a time a snake came and ate the nestlings of a certain crane,
as fast as they were born; that grieved the crane. So, by the advice
of a crab, he went and strewed pieces of fish from the dwelling of a
mungoose as far as the hole of the snake, and the mungoose came out,
and following up the pieces of fish, eating as it went on, was led
to the hole of the snake, which it saw and entered, and killed him
and his offspring.
"So by a device one can succeed; now hear another story."
Story of the mice that ate an iron balance. [45]
Once on a time there was a merchant's son, who had spent all his
father's wealth, and had only an iron balance left to him. Now the
balance was made of a thousand palas of iron; and depositing it in
the care of a certain merchant, he went to another land. And when,
on his return, he came to that merchant to demand back his balance,
the merchant said to him: "It has been eaten by mice." He repeated,
"It is quite true, the iron, of which it was composed, was particularly
sweet, and so the mice ate it." This he said with an outward show of
sorrow, laughing in his heart. Then the merchant's son asked him to
give him some food, and he, being in a good temper, consented to give
him some. Then the merchant's son went to bathe, taking with him the
son of that merchant, who was a mere child, and whom he persuaded
to come with him by giving him a dish of ámalakas. And after he
had bathed, the wise merchant's son deposited the boy in the house
of a friend, and returned alone to the house of that merchant. And
the merchant said to him, "Where is that son of mine?" He replied,
"A kite swooped down from the air and carried him off." The merchant
in a rage said, "You have concealed my son," and so he took him
into the king's judgment-hall; and there the merchant's son made the
same statement. The officers of the court said, "This is impossible,
how could a kite carry off a boy?" But the merchant's son answered;
"In a country where a large balance of iron was eaten by mice, a
kite might carry off an elephant, much more a boy." [46] When the
officers heard that, they asked about it, out of curiosity, and made
the merchant restore the balance to the owner, and he, for his part,
restored the merchant's child.
"Thus, you see, persons of eminent ability attain their ends by
an artifice. But you, by your reckless impetuosity, have brought
our master into danger." When Damanaka heard this from Karataka,
he laughed and said--"Do not talk like this! What chance is there
of a lion's not being victorious in a fight with a bull? There is a
considerable difference between a lion, whose body is adorned with
numerous scars of wounds from the tusks of infuriated elephants,
and a tame ox, whose body has been pricked by the goad." While the
jackals were carrying on this discussion, the lion killed the bull
Sanjívaka. When he was slain, Damanaka recovered his position of
minister without a rival, and remained for a long time about the
person of the king of beasts in perfect happiness.
Naraváhanadatta much enjoyed hearing from his prime minister Gomukha
this wonderful story, which was full of statecraft, and characterized
by consummate ability.
NOTE TO CHAPTER 60. THE FABLES OF PILPAY.
Wilson in his collected works, (Vol. IV, p. 139) remarks that we
have in the Kathá Sarit Ságara an earlier representative of the
original collection of Indian fables, than even the Panchatantra, as
it agrees better with the Kalilah and Dimnah than the Panchatantra
does. The earliest Indian form of the Panchatantra appears to have
been translated into Pehlevi in the time of the king of Persia,
Khushru Naushírváns (between 531 and 572 A. D.); upon this the Arabic
translation was based. It was edited by Silvestre de Sacy under the
title, "Calila et Dimna ou Fables de Bidpai," and has been translated
into German by Wolff, and into English by Knatchbull. There are many
recensions of the Arabic translation as of the Panchatantra. (Benfey
is of opinion that originally the latter work consisted of more than
five sections.) The oldest translation of the Arabic version is the
Greek one by Symeon Seth, which was made about 1080, A. D. (Benfey,
Einleitung, p. 8, with note). The Latin translation of Possinus was
made from this. Perhaps the most important translation of all is the
Hebrew translation of Rabbi Joel. It must have been made about 1250. It
has never been edited, with the exception of a small fragment, and is
practically represented by the Latin translation of John of Capua,
made between 1263 and 1278. Benfey considers that the first German
translation was made from a MS. of this. The oldest German translation
has no date. The second appeared at Ulm in 1483. Another version,
probably not based upon any of these, is a poetical paraphrase, the
Alter Aesopus of Baldo, edited by Edéléstand du Méril in his Poésies
inédites du Moyen Age. There is a Spanish translation from the Arabic,
perhaps through an unknown Latin version, which appeared about 1251. A
portion has been published by Rodriguez De Castro. Possibly Raimond's
Latin translation was based partly on this, and partly on the Latin
translation of the Hebrew by John of Capua.
The Arabic version was translated into Persian by Nasr Allah in the
12th century. Upon it is based the Anvár-i-Suhaili of Husain Vaiz,
which was written three centuries later. It has been translated into
English by Eastwick. (Hertford 1854). (The above note is summarized
from Benfey's Einleitung). See also Rhys Davids' Buddhist Birth
Stories, Introduction, pp. xciii and xciv. He says that the Arabic
version was made from the Syriac.
CHAPTER LXI.
Then the minister Gomukha again said to Naraváhanadatta, in order
to solace him while pining for Saktiyasas; "Prince, you have heard
a tale of a wise person, now hear a tale about a fool."
Story of the foolish merchant who made aloes-wood into charcoal. [47]
A certain rich merchant had a blockhead of a son. He, once on a time,
went to the island of Katáha to trade, and among his wares there was
a great quantity of fragrant aloes-wood. And after he had sold the
rest of his wares, he could not find any one to take the aloes-wood
off his hands, for the people who live there are not acquainted with
that article of commerce. Then, seeing people buying charcoal from
the woodmen, the fool burnt his stock of aloes-wood and reduced it
to charcoal. Then he sold it for the price which charcoal usually
fetched, and returning home, boasted of his cleverness, and became
a laughing-stock to everybody.
"I have told you of the man who burnt aloes-wood, now hear the tale
of the cultivator of sesame."
Story of the man who sowed roasted seed. [48]
There was a certain villager who was a cultivator, and very nearly
an idiot. He one day roasted some sesame-seeds, and, finding them
nice to eat, he sowed a large number of roasted seeds, hoping that
similar ones would come up. When they did not come up, on account of
their having been roasted, he found that he had lost his substance,
and people laughed at him.
"I have spoken of the sesame-cultivator, now hear about the man who
threw fire into water."
Story of the fool who mixed fire and water. [49]
There was a silly man, who, one night, having to perform a sacrifice