The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
and hunger, we climbed up this tree sacred to Ganesa, to get fruits,
and we were ourselves turned into fruits, and we have now, prince,
been released from our fruit-transformation by your austerities. Such
have been the adventures of us four, during our separation from you
[457] brought about by the curse of the Nága; and now that our curse
is expired, advance, united with us all, towards the attainment of
your object."
When Mrigánkadatta had heard all this from his minister Vyághrasena,
he conceived hopes of obtaining Sasánkavatí, and so passed that
night there.
CHAPTER CII.
Then, the next morning, Mrigánkadatta rose up from the shore of that
beautiful lake, together with all his ministers, who had rejoined
him; and in company with them, and the Bráhman Srutadhi, set out for
Ujjayiní, to win Sasánkavatí, after he had paid his orisons to that
tree of Ganesa. [458]
Then the heroic prince, accompanied by his ministers, again crossed
various stretches of woodland, which contained many hundreds of lakes,
and were black with tamála-trees [459] throughout their whole expanse,
looking like nights in the rainy season, when the clouds collect;
and others which had their canes broken by terrible infuriated
elephants roaming through them, in which the arjuna-trees formed a
strong contrast to the tamála-trees, [460] and which thus resembled
so many cities of king Viráta; and ravines of mighty mountains,
which were pure, though strewn with flowers, and though frequented
by subdued hermits, were haunted by fierce beasts; and at last came
near the city of Ujjayiní.
Then he reached the river Gandhavatí, and dispelled his fatigue by
bathing in it, and after crossing it, he arrived with his companions
in that cemetery of Mahákála. There he beheld the image of mighty
Bhairava, black with the smoke from neighbouring pyres, surrounded
with many fragments of bones and skulls, terrible with the skeletons
of men which it held in its grasp, worshipped by heroes, frequented
by many troops of demons, dear to sporting witches.
And after crossing the cemetery, he beheld the city of Ujjayiní,
a yuga old, ruled by king Karmasena. Its streets were watched by
guards with various weapons, who were themselves begirt by many brave
high-born Rájpúts; it was surrounded with ramparts resembling the
peaks of mighty mountains; it was crowded with elephants, horses,
and chariots, and hard for strangers to enter.
When Mrigánkadatta beheld that city, which was thus inaccessible
on every side, he turned his face away in despondency, and said to
his ministers, "Alas! ill-starred man that I am! though it has cost
me hundreds of hardships to reach this city, I cannot even enter it;
what chance then have I of obtaining my beloved?" When they heard this,
they said to him, "What! do you suppose, prince, that this great city
could ever be stormed by us, who are so few in number? We must think
of some expedient to serve in this emergency, and an expedient will
certainly be found; how comes it that you have forgotten that this
expedition has frequently been enjoined by the gods?"
When Mrigánkadatta had been thus addressed by his ministers, he
remained for some days roaming about outside the city.
Then his minister Vikramakesarin called to mind that Vetála, which he
had long ago won over, intending to employ him to fetch the prince's
love from her dwelling-house. And the Vetála came, black in hue,
tall, with a neck like a camel, elephant-faced, with legs like a bull,
eyes like an owl, and the ears of an ass. But finding that he could
not enter the city, he departed; the favour of Siva secures that city
against being invaded by such creatures.
Then the Bráhman Srutadhi, who was versed in policy, said to
Mrigánkadatta, as he was sitting in gloom, surrounded by his ministers,
longing in his heart to enter the city; "Why, prince, though you
know the true principles of policy, do you remain bewildered, like
one ignorant of them? Who will ever be victorious in this world by
disregarding the difference between himself and his foe? For at every
one of the four gates of this city, two thousand elephants, twenty-five
thousand horses, ten thousand chariots, and a hundred thousand footmen
remain harnessed and ready, day and night, to guard it; and they are
hard to conquer, being commanded by heroes. So, as for a handful of
men, like ourselves, entering it by force, that is a mere chimerical
fancy, [461] not a measure calculated to ensure success. Moreover,
this city cannot be overthrown by a small force; and a contest with an
overwhelming force is like fighting on foot against an elephant. So
join with your friend Máyávatu the king of the Pulindas, whom you
delivered from the terrible danger of the water-monsters in the
Narmadá, and with his friend Durgapisácha the very powerful king of the
Mátangas, who is attached to you on account of his alliance with him,
[462] and with that king of the Kirátas, named Saktirakshita, who is
famous for his valour and has observed a vow of strict chastity from
his youth upwards, and let them all bring their forces, and then do
you, thus strengthened by allies, fill every quarter with your hosts,
and so accomplish the object you have in view. Moreover, the king
of the Kirátas is awaiting your coming from a distance in accordance
with your agreement; how have you come to forget this? And no doubt,
Máyávatu is ready awaiting your arrival, in the territory of [463]
the king of the Mátangas, for you made this agreement with him. So
let us go to the castle named Karabhagríva, on the southern slope of
the Vindhyas, in which that chief of the Mátangas dwells. And let us
summon there Saktirakshita, the king of the Kirátas, and united with
them all make a fortunate expedition with every chance of success.
When Mrigánkadatta and his ministers heard this speech of Srutadhi's,
which was full of sense and such as the wise would approve, they
eagerly accepted it, saying, "So be it." And the next day the prince
adored that unresting traveller of the sky, the sun, the friend
of the virtuous, that had just arisen, revealing every quarter of
the world, [464] and set out for the abode of Durgapisácha king
of the Mátangas on the southern slope of the Vindhya range. And
his ministers Bhímaparákrama, and Vyághrasena, and Gunákara, and
Meghabala with Vimalabuddhi, and Sthúlabáhu with Vichitrakatha, and
Vikramakesarin, and Prachandasakti, and Srutadhi and Dridhamushti
followed him. With them he successively crossed forests wide-ranging
as his own undertakings, and stretches of woodland profound as his
own schemes, with no better refuge at night than the root of a tree
[465] on the shore of a lake, and reached and ascended the Vindhya
mountain lofty as his own soul.
Then the prince went from the summit of the mountain down its
southern slope, and beholding afar off the villages of the Bhillas
full of elephants' tusks and deer-skins, he said to himself, "How am
I to know where the dwelling of that king of the Mátangas is?" While
engaged in such reflections, he and his ministers saw a hermit boy come
towards them, and after doing obeisance to him, they said, "Fair Sir,
do you know in what part of this region the palace of Durgapisácha,
the king of the Mátangas, is? For we wish to see him."
When that good young ascetic heard this, he said, "Only a kos distant
from this place is a spot called Panchavatí, and not far from it was
the hermitage of the hermit Agastya, who with small effort cast down
from heaven the haughty king Nahusha; where Ráma, who by command of
his father took up his dwelling in a forest, accompanied by Lakshmana
and his wife Sítá, long waited on that hermit; where Kabandha, [466]
who guided Ráma to the slaughter of the Rákshasas, proceeded to attack
Ráma and Lakshmana, as Ráhu does the sun and moon, whose arm a yojana
in length Ráma felled, so that it resembled Nahusha in his serpent
form, come to supplicate Agastya; where even now the Rákshasas hearing
the roaring of the clouds at the beginning of the rainy season, call
to mind the twanging of the bow of Ráma; where the aged deer, that
were fed by Sítá, beholding the regions deserted in every direction,
with eyes filling with tears, reject the mouthful of grass; where
Márícha, who brought about Sítá's separation from her husband,
assumed the form of a golden deer and enticed away Ráma, as if to
save from slaughter those deer, that were still left alive; where,
in many a great lake full of the water of the Káverí, it appears as if
Agastya had vomited up in driblets the sea that he swallowed. Not far
from that hermitage, on a table-land of the Vindhya, is a stronghold
tangled and inaccessible, named Karabhagríva. In it dwells that mighty
Durgapisácha of terrible valour, chief of the Mátangas, whom kings
cannot conquer. And he commands a hundred thousand bowmen of that
tribe, every one of whom is followed by five hundred warriors. With
the aid of those brigands he robs caravans, destroys his enemies, and
enjoys this great forest, caring nought for this or that king. [467]
When Mrigánkadatta had heard this from the young hermit, he took
leave of him, and went quickly, with his companions, in the direction
indicated by him, and in course of time he arrived in the environs of
Karabhagríva that stronghold of the king of the Mátangas, which were
crowded with Bhilla villages. And within them he beheld near at hand
on every side crowds of Savaras, adorned with peacocks' feathers and
elephants' teeth, clothed in tigers' skins, and living on the flesh of
deer. When Mrigánkadatta saw those Bhillas, he said to his ministers,
"See! these men live a wild forest life like animals, and yet, strange
to say, they recognise Durgapisácha as their king. There is no race
in the world without a king; I do believe the gods introduced this
magical name among men in their alarm, fearing that otherwise the
strong would devour the weak, as great fishes eat the little." [468]
And while he was saying this, and trying to find the path that led to
the stronghold Karabhagríva, the scouts of Máyávatu, the king of the
Savaras, who had already arrived there, recognized him, having seen him
before. They immediately went and told that Máyávatu of his arrival;
and he with his army went to meet him. And when that king of the
Pulindas came near, and saw the prince, he alighted from his horse,
and ran forward, and fell at his feet. And he embraced the prince,
who asked after his health, and then mounted him and his ministers
on horses, and brought them to his own camp. And that king of the
Savaras sent his own warder to inform the king of the Mátangas of
the prince's arrival.
And Durgapisácha, the king of the Mátangas, quickly came there from
his own place, and his appearance justified his name. [469] He seemed
like a second Vindhya range, for his body was firm as a rocky peak,
his hue was black as tamála, and Pulindas lay at his foot. His
face was rendered terrible by a natural three-furrowed frown, and
so he appeared as if Durgá, the dweller in the Vindhya range, had
marked him with the trident, to claim him as her own. Though young,
he had seen the death of many "secular birds;" though black, he was
not comely; and he crouched to none, though he hugged the foot of a
mountain. [470] Like a fresh cloud, he displayed the peacock tail and
the gay-coloured bow; like Hiranyáksha, [471] his body was scarred
by the furious boar; like Ghatotkacha, he was mighty and possessed a
haughty and terrible shape; [472] like the Kali age, he allowed those
born under his sway to take pleasure in wickedness and break through
the bonds of rule. And the mass of his host came filling the earth,
like the stream of the Narmadá, when let loose from the embrace of