remote part of a certain forest. That region, lying beyond the path and
the noise of men, was a dwelling-place of manifold tribes of
forest-animals. Its many roots, trees, and shrubs were immersed in the
thick and high grass which covered its soil, untrodden by travellers and
showing nowhere any trace of vehicles and carriages, the tracks of
whose feet or wheels might have beaten something like a road or
border-line; yet, it was intersected with channels and full of ant-hills
and holes. That _s_arabha had a solid body, endowed with strength,
vigour, and swiftness; he was distinguished by the beautiful colour of
his skin. As he was addicted to practising compassion, he cherished
friendly feelings towards all animals. Possessing the virtue of
contentment, he subsisted only on grasses, leaves and water, and was
pleased with his residence in the forest. So he adorned that part of the
forest, longing, like a Yogin, for complete detachment.
[180] Not the common deer of that name seems to be meant, but the
fabulous animal _s_arabha, said to be eight-legged, very strong,
and a match for lions and elephants.
1. Bearing the shape of a forest-animal, but possessing the intellectual
faculties of a man, he lived in that solitary wilderness, showing, like
an ascetic, mercy to all living beings, and contenting himself, like a
Yogin, with blades of grass.
Now once upon a time it happened that the king who was the ruler of that
country came near that place. Mounted on his excellent horse, holding
his bent bow and arrow in his hand, and being eager to try his skill of
arms on the game, he was pursuing the deer with speed, indulging in the
excitement (of the chase). So he was carried away by his horse, an
animal of extraordinary swiftness, and separated by no small distance
from his retinue, a body of elephants, horse, chariots, and footmen. As
soon as he saw the Great Being from afar, he was resolved on killing
him, and keeping ready his bow strung with a sharp arrow, spurred his
horse to chase the High-minded One. But the Bodhisattva had no sooner
perceived the king on horseback assailing him, than he took to flight
with the utmost swiftness; not because he would have been powerless to
stand and fight his aggressor, but because he had desisted from acts of
violence and anger. While being pursued by the king, meeting with a
large hole on his way, he quickly jumped over it, as if it were a small
puddle, and continued his flight. When the excellent horse, running
after the _s_arabha in the same direction as swiftly as ever he could,
arrived at that hole, he hesitated to risk the leap, and of a sudden
stood still.
2. Then the king, as he was, his bow in his hands, tumbled down from
horseback and fell headlong into the large hole, as a warrior of the
Daityas sinks into the Ocean.
3. Keeping his eyes fixed on the _s_arabha, he had not noticed that
chasm. So he fell by the fault of his want of circumspection, as he lost
his balance by the sudden stopping of his horse from his great
swiftness.
Now, the sound of the trampling of hoofs ceasing, the Bodhisattva began
to think: 'has that king, perhaps, really turned back?' Then, turning
his head and looking behind, he saw the horse without his rider standing
on the brink of that chasm. On perceiving this, his thoughts turned to
this reasoning: 'No doubt, the king must have fallen into this chasm. No
tree is here spreading its thick foliage, the sheltering shade of which
might invite to sit down and rest, nor is here any lake to be found fit
for bathing in its water as blue and as pure as a petal of a blue lotus.
Nor, since he entered this wild forest-region haunted by ferocious
animals, is he likely to have dismounted and left his excellent horse in
some place, that he might either take his rest or continue hunting
alone. No more is there here any jungle in which he might be hidden.
Surely, that king must have fallen into this hole.' After he had
convinced himself of this, the High-minded One felt the utmost
commiseration for him who sought his life.
4, 5. 'But lately this monarch possessed the enjoyments of royalty,
being worshipped like the Lord of the Devas by crowds of people revering
him with clasped hands. His army attended him, a mixed host of chariots,
horsemen, footmen, and elephants, adorned with gay banners, glittering
in their armour and weapons, and marching to the brisk tones of music.
His head was sheltered by the lovely umbrella, and the chowries fanning
him made a beautiful effect with the shine of their (jewelled) handles.
6. 'And now at this moment he is lying below in this large chasm. By the
shock of his fall he must have broken his bones, he has swooned or pines
with sorrow. Alas! To what a distress has he come!
7. 'Common people, whose mind has grown callous with suffering, so to
speak, are not so much afflicted by their sorrows, as men of high rank,
when calamities visiting them plunge them into grief, something new to
such as are accustomed to great delicacy.
'He will never be able to escape from thence by himself. If there is
still some remnant of life in him, then it is not right to abandon him
to his fate.' So considering, the High-minded One, impelled by his
compassion, went to the brink of the precipice and perceived him
struggling there. His armour, covered with dust, had lost its splendour,
his diadem and his garments were utterly disarranged, and the pain
caused by the blows he had got in falling down afflicted his mind, and
brought him to despondency.
8. Having seen the king in that wretched situation, he forgot that it
was his enemy, and affected with pity felt an equal pain to his; tears
welled up in his eyes.
9. And he addressed him with modest and kind language, manifesting his
innate pious disposition and comforting him by the proper and respectful
words he used in a distinct and lovely-sounding voice.
10. 'Thou hast received no hurt, Your Majesty, I hope, coming into this
hell-resembling chasm? Thou hast broken no limb, I hope? Do thy pains
grow less already?
11. 'I am no goblin, O most distinguished of men, I am a forest-animal
living within thy realm, reared upon thy grass and water. So thou mayst
put confidence in me.
12. 'Do not despond, then, because of thy fall into the precipice. I
have the power to rescue thee from thence. If thou thinkest me
trustworthy, then quickly command me and I come.'
This marvellous speech of the animal roused the admiration of the king.
Shame arose within his mind and he began, in truth, to reflect in this
manner:
13. 'How is it possible that he shows pity towards me, his enemy, of
whose prowess he perceived himself to be the goal? And how could I act
so unbecomingly to this innocent one?
14. 'Oh! How he confounds me by the sharp reproach of his softness! It
is I who am the animal, the brute, he is some being bearing only the
shape of a _s_arabha.
'He deserves, therefore, to be honoured by my acceptance of his friendly
offer.' Having thus made up his mind, he spoke:
15-17. 'My body being covered by my armour has not been too heavily
injured, and the pain I feel from being crushed in this chasm is at
least bearable. Yet, that grievance caused by my fall does not torment
me so much as my offence against a being so pure-hearted and holy as
thou. Do not mind it, I pray thee, that relying on thy outward shape I
took thee for a forest-animal, not being aware of thy real nature.'
Then the _s_arabha, inferring from these friendly words of the king,
that he agreed to his proposal, exercised himself with the object of
rescuing him, bearing on his back a stone of a man's weight. Having
learnt the extent of his strength, determined upon rescuing the king, he
went down into the hole and drawing near to him, spoke in a respectful
tone:
18. 'Pray, put up for a while with the necessity of touching this body
of mine, that, with the object of obtaining my own happiness, I may make
thy face resplendent with contentment and joy.
'Your Majesty, deign therefore to mount upon my back and cling fast to
me.' And he, after declaring his approval, mounted his back, as if it
were a horse's.
19. Then, with the king on his back, he climbed aloft with surpassing
vigour and swiftness, and holding high the forepart of his body,
resembled some (stone-)elephant rising in the air, as is represented on
arches.
20. After carrying the king out of that inaccessible place and making
him rejoin his horse, he was much rejoiced and told him the way to his
capital, and himself prepared to retire to his forest.
But the king, moved with gratitude for his kind service, so modestly
rendered, embraced the _s_arabha affectionately, saying:
21. 'This life of mine is at thy disposal, O sarabha. It is, therefore,
unnecessary to add that thou must consider as thy property all that is
within my power. Give me, then, the pleasure of visiting my capital, and
if thou likest it, take up thy residence there.
22. 'Is it not unbecoming to me that I should set out for home alone,
leaving thee in this dreadful forest haunted by hunters, where thou art
exposed to suffering because of cold, heat, rain, and other calamities?
'Well then, let us go together.'
Then the Bodhisattva eulogized him in modest, soft and respectful terms,
answering thus:
23. 'In lovers of virtues, like thee, O most excellent of men, a
behaviour like thine is the proper one. For virtues, constantly
practised by pious persons, turn out to be an essential part of their
very nature.
24. 'But since thou thinkest, that I who am accustomed to the forest
might be favoured by taking up my residence at thy home, pray, no more
of this. Of one kind is the pleasure of men, of another that of the
forest-animals conformable to the habits of their kind.
25. 'If, however, thou wantest to do something pleasant to me, then
desist from hunting, O hero, for ever! The poor beasts of the forest,
being brute and dull of intellect, are worth pitying for this very
reason.
26. 'With respect to the pursuit of happiness and the removal of
mischief, the animals, thou shouldst know, are subject to the same
feelings as men. Keeping this in mind, deem it improper to do to others
what would be a cause of displeasure, if done to thyself.
27. 'Understanding that evil deeds entail loss of reputation, censure
by the virtuous, and moreover suffering, thou must extirpate the evil
within thee, considering it thy adversary. It never becomes thee to
overlook it, no more than illness.
28. 'It is by pursuing meritorious actions that thou obtainedst the
royal dignity, a thing highly esteemed by men and the abode of bliss.
That very store of merit thou must enlarge, thou shouldst not enfeeble
the ranks of the benefactors.
29. 'Gather meritorious actions, the instruments of glory and happiness,
by munificent gifts, (taking care) to enhance their charm by
(distributing them at the right) time and in a respectful manner; by a
moral conduct, the right laws of which thou mayst learn by intercourse
with virtuous persons[181]; and by succeeding in making thy dispositions
towards all creatures as well-wishing as to thyself.'
[181] In the original two short syllables are wanting in the second
pâda of this stanza. I imagine it should be read thus, _s_îlena
sâdhu(_g_ana)-sa_m_gatani_sk_ayena.
In this manner the High-minded One favoured the king, firmly
establishing him in the matters relating to the future life. And the
king accepted his words. After which he entered his dwelling-place in
the forest, followed with respectful looks by the king.
* * * * *
In this manner the intensely compassionate show pity even to him who
attempts their life, when he is in distress; they will not disregard
such a one. [This story is to be told also when treating of
commiseration, when discoursing on the high-mindedness of the Tathâgata
and on the subject of listening with attention to the preaching of the
Law. Likewise it is to be propounded when demonstrating that enmities
are appeased by means of friendliness, also when treating of the virtue
of forbearance. 'In this way it is seen that the High-minded, even when
in the state of beasts, behave mercifully towards those who attempt
their life. How, indeed, should it become a human being or one who has
taken the vow of a homeless life to be wanting in mercy towards the
animals? For this reason a pious man (ârya) must show mercy to living
beings.']
XXVI. THE STORY OF THE RURU-DEER.
(Cp. the Pâli _G_âtaka, No. 482, Fausb. IV, 255-263; _K_ariyâpi_t_aka
II, 6.)
To the virtuous no suffering exists but that of others. It is this they
cannot bear, not their own suffering, as will be taught by the
following.
One time the Bodhisattva, it is said, lived in the forest as a
ruru-deer. He had his residence in a remote part of a large wilderness,
far from the paths of men and overgrown with a rich, manifold
vegetation. There were a great number of sâls, bakulas, piyâlas,
hintâlas, tamâlas, naktamâlas, of vidula and ni_k_ula reeds and of
shrubs; thickets of _s_im_s_apâs, tini_s_as, _s_amîs, palâ_s_as,
_s_âkas, of ku_s_a-grass, bamboo and reeds encumbered it; kadambas,
sar_g_as, ar_g_unas, dhavas, khadiras, and ku_t_a_g_as abounded in it;
and the outstretched branches of many trees were covered as if by a veil
with the tendrils of manifold creeping plants. It was the abode of a
great many forest-animals: deer of the ruru, p_ri_shata and s_ri_mara
varieties, yaks, elephants, gavaya-oxen, buffaloes, antelopes of the
hari_n_a and the nyaṅku kind, boars, panthers, hyenas, tigers, wolves,
lions, bears, and others. Among them that ruru-deer was conspicuous by
its hue brilliant like pure gold and the very soft hair of his body,
which was moreover adorned and resplendent with spots of different
lovely colours, shining like rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and beryls.
With his large blue eyes of incomparable mildness and brightness, with
his horns and hoofs endowed with a soft splendour, as if they were made
of precious stones, that ruru-deer of surpassing beauty had the
appearance of a moving treasury of jewels. Then, knowing his body to be
a much desirable object and being aware of the pitiless nature of man,
he liked to frequent such forest-tracks as were free from human
intercourse, and in consequence of his keen intellect, was careful to
avoid such places as were unsafe by the artifices of huntsmen, their
traps, nets, snares, holes, lime-twigs, and the seeds and other food
they strew down. Moreover, he warned also the animals who followed after
him to avoid them. He exercised his rule over them like a teacher, like
a father.
1. Where on earth will not people, longing for their happiness, honour
the combination of paramount beauty and paramount intelligence, hallowed
by accomplished good actions?
Now once upon a time it happened that the High-minded One, residing in
that wild part of the forest, heard cries for help uttered by some man
who was being carried away by the current of a rapid stream flowing near
and lately swollen by the rains.
2. 'The rapid and swollen stream carries me away, and there is nobody to
help, no vessel to take me. Come to me, pitiful people; come quickly to
rescue a wretch.
3. 'My arms, exhausted from fatigue, are not able to keep my body on the
water, and nowhere can I find a ford. Help me then and soon, there is no
time to lose.'
These piteous cries of distress struck the Bodhisattva, and as if he
were wounded by them in his heart, he rushed out of the thicket,
exclaiming those comforting words he had been wont to use in hundreds of
previous existences and by which he had banished fear, grief, sadness,
and fatigue. So even now he succeeded in bringing forth the words 'do
not fear! do not fear!' in plain human voice repeatedly and loudly. And
coming out of the forest he saw from afar that man, like a precious
present brought to him by the stream.
4. Then, resolved upon rescuing him and without minding the risk of his
own life, he entered the river that was running with tremendous
rapidity, like a brave warrior disturbing a hostile army.
5. He placed himself across his way, then told him to cling fast to him.
And the man, who was in the paroxysm of fear and had almost lost the
power of his limbs, his strength being exhausted, climbed on his back.
6. Nevertheless, though he was mounted by the man and forced out of his
way by the violence of the current, the paramount excellence of his
nature enabled him to keep his great vigour intact, and he reached the
riverbank according to the wish of that man.
7. Having brought the man to the riverside and dispelled his weariness
and pain, obtaining by this a very great rejoicing himself, he warmed
his cold limbs with the warmth of his own body, then dismissed him.
'Go,' he said, showing him the way.
This marvellous propensity for affording succour, such as is
unparalleled in affectionate relations and friends, touched the man to
the quick, and the beautiful shape of the ruru-deer roused his
admiration and respect. Bowing his head to him, he addressed him with
kind words like these:
8-10. 'No friend from childhood nor kinsman is capable of performing
such a deed as thou hast done for me. This life of mine, therefore, is
thine. If it were to be spent for some matter of thy interest, however
small, I would esteem myself highly favoured. Why, procure me that
favour by ordering me to do something for thee, in whatever respect Thy
Honour thinks me fit for employment.'
In reply to this the Bodhisattva said approvingly:
11. 'Gratitude is not at all to be wondered at in a gentleman. For this
quality proceeds from his very nature. But seeing the corruptness of the
world, even gratitude is nowadays reckoned among the virtues.
'For this reason, I tell thee this. Let thy grateful disposition not
induce thee to relate to anybody, that thou wast rescued by such an
extraordinary animal. My beautiful figure makes me too desirable a prey.
Lo, as a rule, the hearts of men, owing to their great covetousness,
possess little mercy or self-restraint.
12. 'Therefore, take care to guard both thy own good properties and me.
A treacherous behaviour towards a friend never tends to bliss.
'Do not either trouble thy mind by anger because I speak so to thee. I
am but a deer, unskilled in the deceitful politeness of men. Moreover,
13. 'It is the fault of such people as are clever in fallacy and possess
the talent of assuming a show of feigned honesty that even those whose
honesty is sincere are looked at with suspicion.
'So then, thou wilt please me by doing as I said.' And the man promised
to do so, and after bowing to the Great Being and circumambulating him,
set out for his home.
Now at that time there lived in that country a queen of some king who
saw true dreams. Whatever extraordinary dream she dreamt was realised.
One time, being asleep she had this dream about day-break. She saw a
ruru-deer of resplendent brilliancy, shining like a heap of jewels of
every kind, standing on a throne and surrounded by the king and his
assembly, preaching the Law in a human voice of an articulate and
distinct sound. Affected with astonishment she awoke with the beating of
drums which were to arouse her husband from sleep[182]. And she took the
first opportunity to go and see the king, who kindly received her not
only with the honour she deserved but also with solicitous affection.
[182] It was the custom to awake the king by the sound of music and
songs. See, for instance, Râmâya_n_a II, sarga 65.
14. Then she, whose bright eyes enlarged with astonishment and whose
lovely cheeks were trembling from gladness, presented her lord with the
account of that marvellous dream as with a gift of homage.
When she had told her wonderful dream to the king, she added this
earnest request:
15. 'Therefore, my lord, pray endeavour to obtain that deer. Adorned
with this jewel-deer, your zenana would be as resplendent as the sky
with the Deer-asterism[183].'
[183] Viz. M_ri_ga_s_iras, corresponding with the head of Orion.
The king, who trusted by experience the visions of her dreams, readily
complied with her desire, partly that he might do something agreeable to
her, partly because he himself was covetous of obtaining that
jewel-deer. Accordingly he ordered all his huntsmen to search for that
deer, and had this proclamation made public in his capital day after
day:
16. 'There exists a deer gold-skinned and spotted with various colours
shining like hundreds of jewels. It is celebrated in the holy texts, and
some have got the sight of it. Whosoever will show that deer, to him the
king gives a very rich village and full ten lovely women.'
Now the man (who had been rescued by the Bodhisattva) heard that
proclamation again and again.
17. As he was poor, the reflection on the sufferings of poverty
afflicted his heart, but on the other hand he kept in mind the great
benefit he had received from the ruru-deer. Distracted by cupidity and
gratitude, he was moved in both directions as in a swing by different
considerations like these:
'What, then, have I to do now? Shall I have regard to Virtue or Wealth?
Shall I keep the promise to my benefactor rather than the duty of
sustaining my family? Which must I esteem most highly, the other world
or this? Which must I follow, the conduct of the pious or rather that of
the world? Shall I strive after riches or rather after such good as is
cherished by the virtuous? Whether to mind the present time or the time
hereafter?' At last his mind disturbed by covetousness came to this
conclusion. 'If I have once obtained great wealth,' so he thought, 'I
shall be able by means of these riches to gain, while enjoying the
pleasures of this world, also happiness in the other world, being intent
on honouring my kinsmen and friends, guests and mendicants[184].' Having
so resolved, putting out of his mind the benefit of the ruru-deer, he
went up to the king and said: 'I, Your Majesty, know that excellent deer
and his dwelling-place. Pray, tell me to whom I shall show him.' On
hearing this, the king much rejoiced answered him, 'Well, friend, show
him to myself,' and putting on his hunting-dress left his capital,
accompanied by a large body of his army. Conducted by the man, he went
to the aforesaid riverside. Then he encircled the forest adjoining it
with the whole of his forces, but himself bearing his bow, wearing his
finger-guard[185] and surrounded by a select number of resolute and
faithful men, entered the thicket, being shown the way by that man. As
they went onward, the man discovering the ruru-deer who quietly and
unsuspectingly was staying in his forest, showed him to the king,
exclaiming: 'Here, here is that precious deer, Your Majesty. May Your
Majesty deign to look at him and be careful.'
[184] A similar reasoning is made by _S_akra, when he tries the
Bodhisattva in his Avishahya-existence, see Story V, stanzas 18-21.
[185] The finger-guard (aṅgulitrâ_n_a) is a contrivance used by
archers to protect the thumb and fingers from being injured by the
bowstring.
18. So saying he raised his arm, eager as he was to point at the deer,
and lo, his hand fell down off his arm, as if it had been cut off with a
sword.
19. Indeed, when directed at such objects hallowed by their
extraordinary performances, one's actions come immediately to ripeness,
provided that they are of consequence and there is but little to
counterbalance them[186].
[186] In other words, in such cases the evil karma has so great a
strength that a considerable amount of good works would be required
in order to check the rapidity of the development of its fruit.
Then the king, curious to get the sight of the ruru-deer, let his eyes
pass along the way shown by the man.
20. And in the midst of that wood, dark as clouds newly formed, he
perceived a body shining with the lustre of a treasury of jewels, and
saw that deer, dear by his illustrious properties. So does the fire of
lightning appear out of the womb of the cloud.
21. Charmed by the beauty of his figure, the king, eagerly desirous of
catching him, immediately curved his bow, made the arrow bite its string
and went up to him that he might hit him.
But the Bodhisattva, on hearing the noise of people on every side, had
thereby concluded that he must have been surrounded, to be sure.
Afterwards perceiving the king coming up ready to shoot off his arrow at
him, he understood there was no opportunity for running away. Then he
uttered distinct articulate language, addressing the king in a human
voice.