Panchatantra
Page 19
The lizard ran off and, after searching for him everywhere, finally found Gangadatta living in another well. ‘Gangadatta, your friend Priyadarshana says he is waiting for you. He has sworn on all the gods that he won’t hurt you, and asks you to come back to the well as soon as you can.’
But Gangadatta was wiser now. ‘There is no crime that a hungry man will not commit,’ he replied. ‘Brother, go back and tell the black serpent that I shall never return to the well.’
‘And so, you scoundrel of a crocodile, just as Gangadatta the frog did not return to the well, I too shall never come to your home,’ declared Raktamukha the monkey.
At this, the crocodile sighed and said, ‘My friend, do not speak such harsh words. Please come home with me. Give me a chance to make up to you for my silly trick. I will sit here and starve myself to death unless you agree!’
At this the monkey grew even angrier. ‘You idiot,’ he cried. ‘Do you think I am that long-eared fool, Lambakarna, that I will go into a place I know to be dangerous and get myself killed? He came and, seeing the might and power of the lion, he ran away. But fool that he was, he returned to the very same place and was killed.’
‘Who was this Lambakarna, and how did he get himself killed?’ asked the crocodile.
So Raktamukha told him the story of the donkey and the lion.
The Story of the Donkey and the Lion
In a certain forest, there lived a lion called Karalakesara. He had one attendant, a faithful jackal called Dhusara, who followed him everywhere he went. One day, the lion was severely wounded in a fight with a wild elephant. As a result of his injuries, he grew feeble and weak and could not hunt any more. As the days passed and the lion was unable to catch any prey, both he and his attendant, the jackal, began to starve. The jackal, unable to bear the pangs of hunger any more, said to the lion, ‘Sire, I am so weak with hunger that I can barely walk. How, then, can I serve you?’
‘If that is so, then go and search for an animal that I can kill even in my enfeebled state and bring him here to me,’ replied the lion.
The jackal ran off to do as the lion asked, and soon he came to a small village on the outskirts of the forest. A donkey called Lambakarna was grazing on the sweet, fresh grass that grew outside the village by the riverbank. Dhusara, seeing the donkey, ran up to him and said, ‘Dear Uncle, namaskar! I haven’t seen you for a long time! And why have you grown so thin and weak?’
The donkey, pleased by the jackal’s respectful greeting, replied, ‘My dear nephew! How good to see you! What can I say? My master, the washerman, works me very hard. He barely gives me anything to eat, which is why I have to eat this dry and tasteless grass. How can you expect me to look strong and well-fed on such fare?’
‘If that is so, Uncle, then come with me,’ said the jackal. ‘I know a meadow deep in the forest, watered by the river all year round, where grows grass as green as emerald. You can live in ease and comfort there and spend the rest of your days engaged in pleasant debate and discussion with me.’
‘Ah nephew, your words are sweet indeed,’ said the donkey. ‘But I am a creature of the village and the field, the natural prey of the fierce animals that live in the forest. So what use is your meadow to me?’
‘Ah, Uncle, do not worry, the meadow is under my protection and no other animal dares go there!’ said the jackal. ‘Besides,’ he added slyly, ‘three other she-donkeys live in that meadow. I rescued them just last week from their cruel masters. They are, all three, young and beautiful, and have asked me to find them a husband. When I saw you, I knew that you would be the perfect match for them. It is for them that I want to take you there.’
The donkey, greatly flattered by the jackal’s words, said, ‘Nephew, if that is so, then let us leave at once for your meadow. I would not like to keep the young ladies waiting!’
The jackal at once led the donkey into the forest, where his master, the lion, was waiting. The lion, seeing the donkey approach, gave a loud roar; but he was weak with hunger and his injuries and by the time he could struggle to his feet, the donkey, alarmed, had turned tail and run away. The lion lunged with his mighty paws at the fleeing donkey, but missed; the donkey, terrified by the lion’s bloodshot eyes and sharp, curving teeth, ran away as fast as he could.
The jackal, watching the donkey run away, turned angrily upon the lion. ‘So is that how you kill your prey? You could not even catch that donkey! No wonder the elephant defeated you so easily!’
The poor lion was deeply embarrassed. ‘I wasn’t ready for the donkey, otherwise he would never have got away!’ he complained.
‘In that case, I will bring him to you one more time,’ said the jackal. ‘This time, be ready.’
‘How will you bring him here again?’ asked the lion astonished. ‘He has now seen me, and barely escaped with his life. I am sure he won’t come back again. Maybe you should look for another animal.’
‘Leave it to me,’ said the jackal. ‘I will bring him back to you again.’
The jackal set off in search of the donkey and found him in his old spot outside the village, grazing on the fresh grass by the river. Seeing the jackal, the donkey called out, ‘Hey there, nephew! That was a fine meadow you led me to! I was nearly killed! Tell me, what was that fierce creature that jumped at me? I have never seen an animal like that one before!’
‘Why, Uncle, couldn’t you tell? That was one of the female donkeys I had told you about!’ declared the jackal. ‘She took one look at you and fell so deeply in love with you that she could not bear to be apart for even a second more! That is why she came running to you. But you turned around and fled. Even then she tried to stop you, but you would not stay. She has sent me to find you and says that if you do not return, she will starve herself to death. So please, Uncle, for her sake, come back to the forest.’
The donkey was completely taken in by the jackal’s words and followed him once more into the forest. This time the lion was ready and killed the donkey with a single bite of his massive jaws.
‘And that is why I say, I will not go with you,’ said Raktamukha the monkey. ‘I am not a fool like Lambakarna the donkey who, despite having seen the danger, walked straight back into it and died.’ He chattered angrily at the crocodile. ‘And you, you are such a fool yourself,’ he continued scornfully. ‘You played a nasty trick on me, and had me well and truly in your power, but then ruined your own purpose by stupidly telling me the truth. It has been said, and rightly so, that the man who, forgetting his own self-interest, speaks the truth out of stupidity and stupidity alone, will destroy his own dreams, as did the potter, Yudhishthira.’
‘Oh, and how did he do that?’ asked the crocodile.
So Raktamukha told him the story of Yudhishthira the potter.
The Story of Yudhishthira the Potter
In a certain town there lived a potter called Yudhishthira. One evening he had had too much to drink. Staggering home unsteadily in the dark, he tripped over a broken pot in his courtyard and fell, hitting his head upon the jagged edge of the pot. The edge was sharp and hard, and made a deep gash in his forehead. Bleeding profusely, but too drunk to care, he dragged himself to bed and fell asleep. The wound, untended, became infected, and when after weeks and weeks it finally healed, it left a large and frightening scar upon his forehead.
A few years later, drought and famine hit the land. Hungry and starving, the potter left the town and went away to a neighbouring kingdom where he found work as a guard in the king’s palace.
One day, the king in passing noticed the hideous scar upon his new guard’s forehead. ‘He must surely have received that scar in battle,’ thought the king. ‘A man who receives a blow upon his forehead is a man who fights the enemy face to face and does not run away. What a great hero this man must be!’ The king, convinced that the potter was a great warrior, ordered that he be given a place of honour amongst the princes. Though the others knew that the potter did not deserve the king’s favour, there was nothing they could do for
they were all afraid of the king.
Now it so happened that the king decided to hold a great tournament to honour his soldiers. The men were dressed in armour, the elephants and horses in bright and shining battle gear. In the midst of the bustle and the preparation, the king went up to the potter and said, ‘O great hero, what is your name? Where do you come from? And in which battle did you get this scar that has marked your face with valour forever?’
‘Sire,’ replied the humble potter. ‘My name is Yudhishthira. I am no warrior, but a potter by profession. This scar upon my forehead is not a battle wound, but a wound I received when I fell, blind drunk, upon the shards of a broken pot. It did not heal well, and so has marked my face forever.’
The king, deeply embarrassed by his mistake, ordered his guards to throw the potter out. ‘See how this fellow has deceived me all these months, pretending to be a warrior when he is only a potter!’ he declared. ‘Throw him out of the palace and make sure he never returns.’
As the guards grabbed the potter and began to lead him away, he called out to the king and said, ‘Sire, do not send me away like this! Give me a chance to show you how well I can fight.’
‘I am sure you are brave and learned and wise and skilled at many things,’ said the king, ‘but remember that in the family in which you were born, they do not hunt elephants,’ replied the king.
‘And what does that mean?’ asked the potter.
So the king told him the story of the jackal who was adopted by a lioness.
The Story of the Jackal Who Was Adopted by a Lioness
In a certain forest, there lived a lion and a lioness. Once, the lioness gave birth to two beautiful little cubs. The lion and the lioness loved their sons dearly, and while the mother would spend her time looking after them and making sure they were safe, the father would go out in the forest to hunt. Each day he would bring home some animal or the other for his wife to eat.
One day, the lion could not catch any prey. As the sun began to set, he set off homewards, tired and disappointed. On the way he saw a baby jackal that had strayed from his mother. The lion, unwilling to kill a baby, gently picked up the little jackal in his great big teeth and taking him home, handed him to his wife.
‘Husband, have you brought me anything to eat today?’ asked the lioness.
The lion shook his head. ‘Beloved, except for this little jackal, I saw no animals today. I did not have the heart to kill such a young one, so I have brought him home to you. If you are hungry, why don’t you eat him? He will be good enough for a snack for now, and tomorrow morning I will go out again to hunt.’
‘Husband, when even you did not have the heart to kill him, how then do you think I could want to eat him? No, I will not kill him either. Instead, from today he will be my third son and stay here with us in safety and comfort.’
And so the little jackal became part of the lion family, and he and the two lion cubs began to grow up together. Neither the cubs nor the little jackal were aware of any difference between them, and loved each other like brothers.
One day, a huge elephant came rampaging through the forest. The two young lions prepared to attack him, but the jackal was afraid. ‘Brothers, what are you thinking?’ he cried. ‘That elephant is big enough and strong enough to kill both of you! It would be foolish to attack him!’ And turning tail, the jackal fled back to their den. The two lion cubs, seeing the jackal so afraid, also lost their courage and ran back to their den with him.
That evening, when the lion came home, the two young cubs told him all about the huge elephant they had seen. ‘But our brother was afraid of him and ran away,’ they added with a laugh.
The jackal did not like the cubs laughing at him. Furious, he turned upon them, snarling and hissing and calling them rude names. Their mother, the lioness, interceded, and taking her adopted son aside, reprimanded him gently. ‘You should not speak like that to them, for they are your brothers and younger than you,’ she said.
The jackal grew even angrier at this. ‘How dare they laugh at me?’ he cried. ‘I am stronger than them, braver than them, smarter than them, more handsome than them, and still they make fun of me! I will not rest till I have killed them both!’
The lioness, who loved the jackal as her own, tried to calm him down. ‘Yes, my son, you are strong and brave and clever and handsome, but in the family in which you were born, they do not hunt elephants,’ she said. Deciding to tell him the truth, she continued, ‘My child, you are actually the son of a jackal. We found you lost and alone in the forest, and taking pity on you we decided to bring you up as one of our own. My sons, the lion cubs, are still young and do not realize that you are a jackal. You would do well to go away, back to your own kind, before they find out and kill you.’
The jackal trembled with fear at her words. Taking her advice, he ran away as fast as he could. Ultimately, he joined a pack of jackals, and forgetting the lions, learnt to live with his own kind as one of them.
‘And so, concluded the king, ‘though I am sure you are brave and learned and wise and skilled at many things, don’t forget that you are only a potter. Like the lion cubs, my warriors will never accept you as one of their own, and it is best you go away as quickly as you can and join your own kind, lest you be killed.’
At this the potter ran away from there as quickly as had the jackal.
‘And as for you,’ continued Raktamukha the monkey, angrily berating the crocodile, ‘you are a fraud and as stupid as the potter. You betrayed our friendship and plotted with your wife to kill me. You would have succeeded if you had but known how to keep your mouth shut. Silence is often the way to success. Have you not heard that
Though the secret was carefully guarded
And he was terrifying to behold
The donkey in the tiger’s skin
Was killed as soon as he brayed.’
‘And how did that happen?’ asked the crocodile.
So Raktamukha told him the story of the donkey in the tiger’s skin.
The Story of the Donkey in the Tiger’s Skin
In a certain town there lived a washerman called Shuddhapata. He owned a little donkey, who helped him carry the clothes to and fro from the river. The washerman was very poor, and could not give his donkey enough grass or fodder to eat. As a result, the poor donkey had grown thin and weak.
The way to the river lay through a dense forest. One morning, on his way to the river with his little donkey, the washerman saw a dead tiger lying in the grass. ‘This is my lucky day,’ he thought, as he quickly skinned the tiger. ‘I can wrap this tiger skin around my poor, starving donkey and let him loose in the fields at night. The farmers will mistake him for a tiger and will be too scared to chase him away, and my poor donkey will be able to eat his fill of their crops and never go hungry again.’
The washerman carried out his plan that very night. Wrapping the tiger skin around the donkey, he let him lose in a field of millet. The donkey ate as much of the millet as he could, and just before dawn, the washerman led him home again. Pleased by the success of his plan, the washerman led his donkey to a field of millet every night, and every morning, before the light of the sun could reveal the donkey for what he truly was, the washerman would lead him home. All went well for several nights, and very soon the donkey had put on weight and become sleek and plump.
One night, as the donkey was grazing in the fields, he heard another donkey braying in the distance. He immediately brayed back loudly. The farmers heard him and realized that the fierce tiger in their fields was just a silly donkey. They pelted him with stones and beat him with sticks till he died.
‘And that is why I say,’ said Raktamukha, ‘that silence is often the way to success.’
Now as the crocodile and the monkey were talking, a crab sidled up to the crocodile and said, ‘O Karalamukha, while you sit here talking, your wife, waiting for you to return, has died of grief.’
Hearing this, the crocodile began to weep and wail. ‘What an unlucky
fellow I am,’ he said. ‘First I lose my friend, and then my wife as well. When one’s luck fails, then such misfortunes happen—as they did to the fox in the woods.’
‘Why, what misfortunes befell her?’ asked the monkey.
So Karalamukha told him the story of the fox in the woods.
The Story of the Fox in the Woods
Once, a fox found a large chunk of fresh meat in the woods, perhaps left over from a tiger’s kill. She took the meat in her mouth and set off for her den to feed her hungry pups.
On the way she passed a stream and saw that the water was full of fish. Suddenly a huge fish leaped out of the water and fell on to the riverbank. As the fish lay struggling and gasping in the grass, the fox dropped the chunk of meat in her mouth and rushed to grab the fish. But before she could reach it, the fish managed to flop back into the water.
The fox, disappointed, turned back to her chunk of meat—only to see a kite swoop down from the sky and carry it away before her eyes.
‘So there was the fox, without the meat and without the fish—just as I am now without a friend and without a wife,’ wailed Karalamukha.
Just then, another little water creature came up to the crocodile and said, ‘O Karalamukha, while you sit here chatting, another crocodile has moved into your house. He is huge, much bigger than you.’