The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
his minister had said this to him, the king made those herdsmen shew
him the way, and went to that place in the forest with his soldiers
and his attendants.
And while, after the ground had been examined, peasants were digging
there, a Yaksha in stature like a mountain rose up from beneath it,
and said, "O king, this treasure, which I have so long guarded,
belongs to thee, as having been buried by thy forefathers, therefore
take possession of it." After he had said this to the king and
accepted his worship, the Yaksha disappeared, and a great treasure
was displayed in the excavation. And from it was extracted a valuable
throne studded with jewels, [244] for in the time of prosperity a long
series of happy and fortunate events takes place. The Lord of Vatsa
took away the whole treasure from the spot in high glee, and after
chastising those herdsmen returned to his own city. There the people
saw that golden throne brought by the king, which seemed with the
streams of rays issuing from its blood-red jewels to foretell [245]
the king's forceful conquest of all the regions, and which with its
pearls fixed on the end of projecting silver spikes seemed to show its
teeth as if laughing again and again when it considered the astonishing
intellect of the king's ministers; [246] and they expressed their joy
in a charming manner, by striking drums of rejoicing so that they sent
forth their glad sounds. The ministers too rejoiced exceedingly, making
certain of the king's triumph; for prosperous events happening at the
very commencement of an enterprise portend its final success. Then
the sky was filled with flags resembling flashes of lightning, and the
king like a cloud rained gold on his dependants. And this day having
been spent in feasting, on the morrow Yaugandharáyana, wishing to know
the mind of the king of Vatsa, said to him; "O king, ascend and adorn
that great throne, which thou hast obtained by inheritance from thy
ancestors." But the king said, "Surely it is only after conquering all
the regions that I can gain glory by ascending that throne, which those
famous ancestors of mine mounted after conquering the earth. Not till
I have subdued this widely-gemmed earth bounded by the main, will I
ascend the great jewelled throne of my ancestors." Saying this, the
king did not mount the throne as yet. For men of high birth possess
genuine loftiness of spirit. Thereupon Yaugandharáyana being delighted
said to him in private; "Bravo! my king! So make first an attempt to
conquer the eastern region." When he heard that, the king eagerly
asked his minister; "When there are other cardinal points, why do
kings first march towards the East?" When Yaugandharáyana heard this,
he said to him again; "The North, O king, though rich, is defiled by
intercourse with barbarians, and the West is not honoured as being
the cause of the setting of the sun and other heavenly bodies; and
the South is seen to be neighboured by Rákshasas and inhabited by
the god of death; but in the eastern quarter the sun rises, over the
East presides Indra, and towards the East flows the Ganges, therefore
the East is preferred. Moreover among the countries situated between
the Vindhya and Himálaya mountains, the country laved by the waters
of the Ganges is considered most excellent. Therefore monarchs who
desire success march first towards the East, and dwell moreover in
the land visited by the river of the gods. [247] For your ancestors
also conquered the regions by beginning with the East, and made their
dwelling in Hastinápura on the banks of the Ganges; but Satáníka
repaired to Kausámbí on account of its delightful situation, seeing
that empire depended upon valour, and situation had nothing to do
with it." When he had said this Yaugandharáyana stopped speaking;
and the king out of his great regard for heroic exploits said; "It
is true that dwelling in any prescribed country is not the cause of
empire in this world, for to men of brave disposition their own valour
is the only cause of success. For a brave man by himself without any
support obtains prosperity; have you never heard à propos of this
the tale of the brave man?" Having said this, the lord of Vatsa on
the entreaty of his ministers again began to speak, and related in
the presence of the queens the following wonderful story.
Story of Vidúshaka.
In the city of Ujjayiní, which is celebrated throughout the
earth, there was in former days a king named Ádityasena. He was a
treasure-house of valour, and on account of his sole supremacy, his war
chariot, like that of the sun, [248] was not impeded anywhere. When his
lofty umbrella, gleaming white like snow, illuminated the firmament,
other kings free from heat depressed theirs. He was the receptacle
of the jewels produced over the surface of the whole earth, as the
sea is the receptacle of waters. Once on a time, he was encamped
with his army on the banks of the Ganges, where he had come for some
reason or other. There a certain rich merchant of the country, named
Gunavartman, came to the king bringing a gem of maidens as a present,
and sent this message by the mouth of the warder. This maiden, though
the gem of the three worlds, has been born in my house, and I cannot
give her to any one else, only your Highness is fit to be the husband
of such a girl. Then Gunavartman entered and shewed his daughter to
the king. The king, when he beheld that maiden, Tejasvatí by name,
illuminating with her brightness the quarters of the heavens, like the
flame of the rays from the jewels in the temple of the god of Love,
was all enveloped with the radiance of her beauty and fell in love with
her, and, as if heated with the fire of passion, began to dissolve in
drops of sweat. So he at once accepted her, who was fit for the rank
of head queen, and being highly delighted made Gunavartman equal to
himself in honour. Then, having married his dear Tejasvatí, the king
thought all his objects in life accomplished, and went with her to
Ujjayiní. There the king fixed his gaze so exclusively on her face,
that he could not see the affairs of his kingdom, though they were
of great importance. And his ear being, so to speak, riveted on her
musical discourse could not be attracted by the cries of his distressed
subjects. The king entered into his harem for a long time and never
left it, but the fever of fear left the hearts of his enemies. And
after some time there was born to the king, by the queen Tejasvatí,
a girl welcomed by all, and there arose in his heart the desire of
conquest, which was equally welcome to his subjects. That girl of
exceeding beauty, who made the three worlds seem worthless as stubble,
excited in him joy, and desire of conquest excited his valour. Then
that king Ádityasena set out one day from Ujjayiní to attack a certain
contumacious chieftain; and he made that queen Tejasvatí go with
him mounted on an elephant, as if she were the protecting goddess
of the host. And he mounted an admirable horse, that in spirit and
fury resembled a torrent, [249] tall like a moving mountain, with a
curl on its breast, and a girth. It seemed to imitate with its feet
raised as high as its mouth, the going of Garuda which it had seen in
the heaven, rivalling its own swiftness, and it lifted up its head
and seemed with fearless eye to measure the earth, as if thinking,
"what shall be the limit of my speed?" And after the king had gone a
little way, he came to a level piece of ground, and put his horse to
its utmost speed to shew it off to Tejasvatí. That horse, on being
struck with his heel, went off rapidly, like an arrow impelled from
a catapult, in some unknown direction, so that it became invisible
to the eyes of men. The soldiers, when they saw that take place,
were bewildered, and horsemen galloped in a thousand directions after
the king, who was run away with by his horse, but could not overtake
him. Thereupon the ministers with the soldiers, fearing some calamity,
in their anxiety took with them the weeping queen and returned to
Ujjayiní; there they remained with gates closed and ramparts guarded,
seeking for news of the king, having cheered up the citizens.
In the meanwhile the king was carried by the horse in an instant
to the impassable forest of the Vindhya hills, haunted by terrible
lions. Then the horse happened to stand still, and the king was
immediately distracted with bewilderment, as the great forest made it
impossible for him to know whereabouts he was. Seeing no other way
out of his difficulties, the king, who knew what the horse had been
in a former birth, got down from his saddle, and prostrating himself
before the excellent horse, said to him [250]: "Thou art a god; a
creature like thee should not commit treason against his lord; so I
look upon thee as my protector, take me by a pleasant path." When the
horse heard that, he was full of regret, remembering his former birth;
and mentally acceded to the king's request, for excellent horses are
divine beings. Then the king mounted again, and the horse set out by
a road bordered with clear cool lakes, that took away the fatigue
of the journey; and by evening the splendid horse had taken the
king another hundred yojanas and brought him near Ujjayiní. As the
sun beholding his horses, though seven in number, excelled by this
courser's speed, had sunk, as it were through shame, into the ravines
of the western mountain, and as the darkness was diffused abroad,
the wise horse seeing that the gates of Ujjayiní were closed, and
that the burning-place outside the gates was terrible at that time,
carried the king for shelter to a concealed monastery of Bráhmans,
that was situated in a lonely place outside the walls. And the king
Ádityasena seeing that that monastery was a fit place to spend the
night in, as his horse was tired, attempted to enter it. But the
Bráhmans, who dwelt there, opposed his entrance, saying that he must
be some keeper of a cemetery [251] or some thief. And out they poured
in quarrelsome mood, with savage gestures, for Bráhmans who live
by chanting the Sáma Veda, are the home of timidity, boorishness,
and ill-temper. While they were clamouring, a virtuous Bráhman named
Vidúshaka, the bravest of the brave, came out from that monastery. He
was a young man distinguished for strength of arm, who had propitiated
the fire by his austerities, and obtained a splendid sword from that
divinity, which he had only to think of, and it came to him. That
resolute youth Vidúshaka seeing that king of distinguished bearing,
who had arrived by night, thought to himself that he was some god
in disguise. And the well-disposed youth pushed away all those other
Bráhmans, and bowing humbly before the king, caused him to enter the
monastery. And when he had rested, and had the dust of the journey
washed off by female slaves, Vidúshaka prepared for him suitable
food. And he took the saddle off that excellent horse of his, and
relieved its fatigue by giving it grass and other fodder. And after
he had made a bed for the wearied king, he said to him,--"My lord, I
will guard your person, so sleep in peace"--and while the king slept,
that Bráhman kept watch the whole night at the door with the sword
of the Fire-god in his hand, that came to him on his thinking of it.
And on the morrow early, Vidúshaka, without receiving any orders, of
his own accord saddled the horse for the king, as soon as he awoke. The
king for his part took leave of him, and mounting his horse entered
the city of Ujjayiní, beheld afar off by the people bewildered with
joy. And the moment he entered, his subjects approached him with a
confused hum of delight at his return. The king accompanied by his
ministers entered the palace, and great anxiety left the breast of the