At a certain time, a Golden Oriole having perched on a tree, while it
was [there] reflected, "On account of my [golden] colour when shall
I obtain a food [suitable] for me?"
At the time when he was thinking thus, he saw that a fruit on a
Jak-tree had ripened. Then a crow having come, dug into that very
Jak-fruit. Thereupon the Golden Oriole, being pleased, laughed. Then
after the crow flew away the Golden Oriole went near the Jak-fruit,
and taking a section from it flew away.
Putting away somewhere the food possessing the [golden] colour equal
to his colour, he sang songs.
He saw near there a King-Coconut tree, and thinking, "The fruit
and flowers on the King-Coconut tree, and I, and my food are of one
[golden] colour," he was pleased.
Having perched on the King-Coconut tree, while he was eating the
section of Jak a Crested Eagle, flying above, seizing the Golden Oriole
for the purpose of the Crested Eagle's food, flew aloft [with him].
While it was flying [away with him] the Golden Oriole says, "For the
fault that I committed (i.e., the pride in his personal appearance),
taking me let us go flying still higher," he said to the Crested
Eagle. Thereupon the Crested Eagle having killed the Golden Oriole
ate him.
North-central Province.
This story reminds me of a little tragedy that I witnessed many
years ago at Anuradhapura. While I was sitting in the veranda of
the Rest-house, my attention was attracted by a friendly Black Robin
(Thamnobia fulicata), a bird in habits much like the common Robin of
Europe and with the same trustful confidence in man. After picking up
insects on the ground close to the veranda it flew up, and perching
in the shade on the lower branch of a tree a few feet distant from
me, in the full enjoyment of its innocent life uttered a happy little
song. Suddenly, in the midst of its notes there was a downward rush of
a dark bird from behind, and in an instant the hapless Robin was being
carried away in the merciless claws of a Sparrowhawk which must have
been hidden in another part of the tree. The hawk was merely fulfilling
the Law of Nature; the strong always devours the weak, without pity.
In A. von Schiefner's Tibetan Tales (Ralston), p. 355, a crow which
uttered agreeable (that is, auspicious) sounds when a woman's husband
was absent on a journey, was promised a golden cap by her if he
returned safe and sound. When he came back in health and the crow
repeated the agreeable sounds, she gave it the cap, and the crow
put it on and flew about proudly with it. A falcon, seeing the cap,
then tore off the crow's head on account of it (apparently because
it coveted the gold).