The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
not to be spared, if they find that he is a benefactor."
Story of the old merchant and his young wife. [93]
For once on a time there was a certain merchant in a certain town, who,
though old, managed to marry by the help of his wealth a young girl
of the merchant caste. And she was always averse to him on account of
his old age, as the bee turns away from the forest-tree when the time
of flowers is past. [94] And one night a thief got into his house,
while the husband and wife were in bed; and, when the wife saw him,
she was afraid, and turned round and embraced her husband. The merchant
thought that a wonderful piece of good fortune, and while looking in
all directions for the explanation, he saw the thief in a corner. The
merchant said; "You have done me a benefit, so I will not have you
killed by my servants." And so he spared his life and sent him away.
"So we ought to spare the life of this Chirajívin, as he is
our benefactor." When the minister Díptanayana had said this, he
remained silent. Then the king of the owls said to another minister,
named Vakranása, "What ought we to do? Give me proper advice." Then
Vakranása said, "He should be spared, for he knows the secrets of
our foes. This quarrel between the enemies' king and his minister
is for our advantage. Listen, and I will tell you a story which will
illustrate it."
Story of the Bráhman, the thief, and the Rákshasa. [95]
A certain excellent Bráhman received two cows as a donation. A thief
happened to see them, and began plotting how to carry them off. At
that very time a Rákshasa was longing to eat that Bráhman. It happened
that the thief and the Rákshasa, as they were going to his house at
night to accomplish their objects, met, and telling one another their
errands, went together. When the thief and the Rákshasa entered the
Bráhman's dwelling, they began to wrangle. The thief said; "I will
carry off the oxen first, for if you lay hold of the Bráhman first,
and he wakes up, how can I get the yoke of oxen?" The Rákshasa said;
"By no means! I will first carry off the Bráhman, otherwise he will
wake up with the noise of the feet of the oxen, and my labour will
all be in vain." While this was going on, the Bráhman woke up. Then he
took his sword, and began to recite a charm for destroying Rákshasas,
and the thief and the Rákshasa both fled.
"So the quarrel between those two, Chirajívin and the king of the
crows, will be to our advantage, as the quarrel between the thief
and the Rákshasa was to the advantage of the Bráhman." When Vakranása
said this, the king of the owls asked his minister Prákárakarna for
his opinion, and he answered him; "This Chirajívin should be treated
with compassion, as he is in distress, and has applied to us for
protection: in old time Sivi offered his flesh for the sake of one
who sought his protection. [96] When the king of the owls heard this
from Prákárakarna, he asked the advice of his minister Krúralochana,
and he gave him the same answer.
Then the king of the owls asked a minister named Raktáksha, and he,
being a discreet minister, said to him; "King, these ministers have
done their best to ruin you by impolitic advice. Those, who know
policy, place no confidence in the acts of a hereditary enemy. It
is only a fool that, though he sees the fault, is satisfied with
insincere flattery."
Story of the carpenter and his wife. [97]
For once on a time there was a carpenter, who had a wife whom he loved
dearly; and the carpenter heard from his neighbours that she was in
love with another man; so, wishing to test the fidelity of his wife,
he said to her one day: "My dear, I am by command of the king going a
long journey to-day, in order to do a job, so give me barley-meal and
other things as provision for the journey." She obeyed and gave him
provisions, and he went out of the house; and then secretly came back
into it, and with a pupil of his hid himself under the bed. As for the
wife, she summoned her paramour. And while she was sitting with him on
the bed, the wicked woman happened to touch her husband with her foot,
and found out that he was there. And a moment after, her paramour,
being puzzled, asked her which she loved the best, himself or her
husband. When she heard this, the artful and treacherous woman said
to that lover of hers; "I love my husband best, for his sake I would
surrender my life. As for this unfaithfulness of mine, it is natural
to women; they would even eat dirt, if they had no noses."
When the carpenter heard this hypocritical speech of the adulteress,
he came out from under the bed, and said to his pupil; "You have seen,
you are my witness to this; though my wife has betaken herself to
this lover, she is still so devoted to me; so I will carry her on my
head." When the silly fellow had said this, he immediately took them
both up, as they sat on the bed, upon his head, with the help of his
pupil, and carried them about.
"So an undiscerning blockhead, though he sees a crime committed before
his eyes, is satisfied with hypocritical flattery, and makes himself
ridiculous. So you must not spare Chirajívin, who is a follower of your
enemy, for, if not carefully watched, he might slay your Majesty in
a moment, like a disease." When the king of the owls heard Raktáksha
say this, he answered; "It was in trying to benefit us that the worthy
creature was reduced to this state. So how can we do otherwise than
spare his life? Besides, what harm can he do us unaided?" So the king
of the owls rejected the advice of Raktáksha, and comforted that crow
Chirajívin. Then Chirajívin said to the king of the owls, "What is
the use to me of life, now that I am in this state? So have logs of
wood brought me, in order that I may enter the fire. And I will ask
the fire as a boon, that I may be born again as an owl, in order that
I may wreak my vengeance upon this king of the crows." When he said
this, Raktáksha laughed and said to him; "By the favour of our master
you will be well enough off: what need is there of fire? Moreover
you will never become an owl, as long as you have the nature of a
crow. Every creature is such as he is made by the Creator."
Story of the mouse that was turned into a maiden. [98]
For once on a time a hermit found a young mouse, which had escaped
from the claws of a kite, and pitying it, made it by the might of his
asceticism into a young maiden. And he brought her up in his hermitage;
and, when he saw that she had grown up, wishing to give her to a
powerful husband, he summoned the sun. And he said to the sun; "Marry
this maiden, whom I wish to give in marriage to some mighty one." Then
the sun answered, "The cloud is more powerful than I, he obscures me
in a moment." When the hermit heard that, he dismissed the sun, and
summoned the cloud, and made the same proposal to him. He replied,
"The wind is more powerful than I: he drives me into any quarter of
the heaven he pleases." When the hermit got this answer, he summoned
the wind and made the same proposal to him. And the wind replied,
"The mountains are stronger than I, for I cannot move them." When the
great hermit heard this, he summoned the Himálaya, and made the same
proposal to him. That mountain answered him; "The mice are stronger
than I am, for they dig holes in me."
Having thus got these answers in succession from those wise divinities,
the great rishi summoned a forest mouse, and said to him, "Marry this
maiden." Thereupon the mouse said, "Shew me how she is to be got
into my hole." Then the hermit said, "It is better that she should
return to her condition as a mouse." So he made her a mouse again,
and gave her to that male mouse.
"So a creature returns to what it was, at the end of a long
peregrination, accordingly you, Chirajívin, will never become an
owl." When Raktáksha said this to Chirajívin, the latter reflected;
"This king has not acted on the advice of this minister, who is skilled
in policy. All these others are fools, so my object is gained." While
he was thus reflecting, the king of the owls took Chirajívin with
him to his own fortress, confiding in his own strength, disregarding
the advice of Raktáksha. And Chirajívin, being about his person, and
fed with pieces of meat and other delicacies by him, soon acquired
as splendid a plumage as a peacock. [99] One day, Chirajívin said
to the king of the owls; "King, I will go and encourage that king
of the crows and bring him back to his dwelling, in order that you
may attack him this night and slay him, and that I may make [100]
some return for this favour of yours. But do you all fortify your
door with grass and other things, and remain in the cave where your
nests are, that they may not attack you by day." When, by saying this,
Chirajívin had made the owls retire into their cave, and barricade
the door and the approaches to the cave, with grass and leaves,
he went back to his own king. And with him he returned, carrying
a brand from a pyre, all ablaze, in his beak, and every one of the
crows that followed him had a piece of wood hanging down from his
beak. And the moment he arrived, he set on fire the door of the cave,
in which were those owls, creatures that are blind by day, which had
been barricaded with dry grass and other stuff.
And every crow, in the same way, threw down at the same time his piece
of wood, and so kindled a fire and burnt the owls, king and all. [101]
And the king of the crows, having destroyed his enemies with the help
of Chirajívin, was highly delighted, and returned with his tribe
of crows to his own banyan-tree. Then Chirajívin told the story of
how he lived among his enemies, to king Meghavarna, the king of the
crows, and said to him; "Your enemy, king, had one good minister
named Raktáksha; it is because he was infatuated by confidence,
and did not act on that minister's advice, that I was allowed to
remain uninjured. Because the villain did not act on his advice,
thinking it was groundless, I was able to gain the confidence of the
impolitic fool, and to deceive him. It was by a feigned semblance of
submission that the snake entrapped and killed the frogs."
Story of the snake and the frogs. [102]
A certain old snake, being unable to catch frogs easily on the bank of
a lake, which was frequented by men, remained there motionless. And
when he was there, the frogs asked him, keeping at a safe distance;
"Tell us, worthy sir, why do you no longer eat frogs as of old?" When
the snake was asked this question by the frogs, he answered, "While
I was pursuing a frog, I one day bit a Bráhman's son in the finger
by mistake, and he died. And his father by a curse made me a bearer
of frogs. So how can I eat you now? On the contrary I will carry you
on my back."
When the king of the frogs heard that, he was desirous of being
carried, and putting aside fear, he came out of the water, and
joyfully mounted on the back of the snake. Then the snake, having
gained his good-will by carrying him about with his ministers,
represented himself as exhausted, and said cunningly; "I cannot go
a step further without food, so give me something to eat. How can
a servant exist without subsistence?" When the frog-king, who was
fond of being carried about, heard this, he said to him; "Eat a few
of my followers then." So the snake ate all the frogs in succession,
as he pleased, and the king of the frogs put up with it, being blinded
with pride at being carried about by the snake.
"Thus a fool is deceived by a wise man who worms himself into his
confidence. And in the same way I ingratiated myself with your enemies
and brought about their ruin. So a king must be skilled in policy
and self-restrained; a fool is plundered by his servants and slain
by his foes at will. And this goddess of prosperity, O king, is ever