THE JATAKAMALA
Table of Contents:

The Tigress
The King of the Sibis
Small Portion of Gruel
Head of a Guild
The Invincible One
The Hare
The Sage Agastya
Maitribala
Prince Visvantara
The Sacrifice
Lord of the Devas
The Brahman
Unmadayanti
Suparaga
Lord of Fishes
The Quail's Young
The Story of the Jar
The Childless One
The Lotus Stalks
The Treasurer
Kuddabodhi
The Holy Swan
Mahabodhi
The Great Ape
Sarabha
The Ruru Deer
The Monkey Chief
Kshantivadin
The Brahmaloka Inhabitant
The Elephant
Sutasoma
Ayogriha
The Buffalo
The Woodpecker

Adapted from the 19th century translation by J. S Speyer

"Fie upon ignorance, that vile and most cruel thing!
For it is ignorance that throws miserable creatures into distress, deceiving them with the false hope of prosperity.
You have ruined yourself, kindled the fire of sorrow in me, obscured the splendor of your reputation,
obstructed your former love of virtues,
and destroyed your trustworthiness,
having become a mark for the arrows of reproach.
What great profit did you expect to attain by acting in this way?"

The virtuous grieve not so much for their own pain as for the loss of happiness incurred by their injurers. This will be taught now.

There is a blessed region on one side of the Himalaya. Its soil, pervaded with different metallic ores, might be called its body perfumed with lovely and various ointments; and its magnificent woods and forests constituted its upper garment, as it were, consisting in a mantle of dark silk. The slopes and declivities of that landscape were adorned by their picturesque scenery, which harmonized the inequality of colors and shapes and combinations, so that they seemed to have been arranged purposely and with care.

In this recreation-ground of the Vidyadharas, moistened by the waters of many mountain-streams passing through it, abounding in deep holes, chasms, and precipices, resounding with the dull and shrill noise of humming bees and caressed by lovely winds fanning its various trees with their beautiful flowers, fruits, and stems, the Bodhisattva was once, it is said, an ape of great size who lived alone. But even in that state he had not lost his consciousness of the Dharma, he was grateful, noble-natured, and endowed with great patience; and Compassion, as if retained by attachment, would never leave him. The earth with its forests, its great mountains and its oceans perished many hundred times at the end of the yuga, either by water or fire or wind, but the great compassion of the Bodhisattva never perishes.

Subsisting, then, like an ascetic, exclusively on the simple fare of leaves and traits of the forest-trees, and showing pity in various circumstances and ways to such creatures as he met within the sphere of his power, the High-minded One lived in the said forest-region.

Now, one time a certain man wandering about in all directions in search of a stray cow, lost his way, and being utterly unable to find out the regions of the sky, roamed at random, and reached that place. There, being exhausted by hunger, thirst, heat, and toil, and suffering from the fire of sorrow which blazed within his heart, he sat down at the foot of a tree, as if pressed down by the exceeding weight of his sadness.

Looking around, he saw a number of very tawny tinduka-fruits, which being ripe had fallen off. After enjoying them, as the hunger which tortured him much made them seem very sweet to him, he felt a very strong desire to find out their origin; and looking sharply around on all sides, he discovered the tree from whence they came. This tree had its roots on the border of the sloping bank of a waterfall and hung down its branches, loaded with very ripe fruits which gave them a tawny hue at their ends. Craving for those fruits, the man mounted to that slope, and climbing up the tinduka-tree, reached a branch with fruit overhanging the precipice. And his eagerness to get the fruit induced him to go along it to its very end. (1)

Then all of a sudden, that hanging branch, unable to bear its heavy burden, broke off with a noise and fell downward as if it had been hewn with a hatchet. And with that branch, he fell headlong onto a large precipice that was surrounded on all sides by steep rock-walls, just like a pit. But as he was protected by the leaves and had plunged into deep water, the fall had not broken any of his bones.

After getting out of the water, he went about on all sides, looking out for some way by which he might escape. But when he discovered that there was no way to escape that place, he realized that he would starve there. Despairing of his life and tortured by the heart-piercing dart of heavy sorrow, he burst into tears, the steady streams of which moistened his sad face.

Overwhelmed by discouragement and painful thoughts, he lamented his fate in this manner:

"I have fallen onto this remote precipice in the midst of this forest, which is so far from the approach of humans. Who, however carefully seeking, may discover me, except Death? Who will rescue me now that I am caught as if I were a wild beast imprisoned in a pit? No relations, no friends have I nearby, just these swarms of mosquitoes, which ever seek to drink up my blood.

"Alas, the night within this pit conceals from me the rest of the universe. I shall no more see the manifold loveliness of gardens, groves, arbors, and streams. No more shall I gaze upon a sky resplendent with those jewel ornaments of wide-scattered stars. Thick darkness, like the nights during  the dark half of the month, is all that surrounds me now."

Thus Lamenting, that man passed some days on that remote precipice, feeding on the water and the tinduka-fruits which had fallen down together with himself.

Then a great ape who had been wandering through that part of the forest with the purpose of finding some food, was drawn as it were by the wind-agitated branches of that that very same tinduka tree. When that great ape climbed up into it and looked over the waterfall, he perceived the suffering man who was lying there, his eyes and cheeks sunken, and his limbs emaciated and pale from hunger.

The wretched situation of that man roused the compassion of the great monkey. Setting aside all cares for his meal, he fixed his eyes intently on the man and in a human voice uttered this: "You are on this precipice which is inaccessible to men. Well, tell me then, please, who are you art and by what cause have you come there."

As he cast his eyes on that great ape, the man bowed his head and folded his hands as a supplicant. "Illustrious being, after losing my way and roaming in the forest, I came into this distress while seeking to pick fruits from this very tree," said the man. "Befallen by this heavy calamity, while away from my friends and kindred, I beseech you, O protector of the monkey troops, to also be my protector."

These words succeeded in stirring the boundless pity of the Great Being. Such a person in distress, without friends or family to help him, who implores help with anxious looks and folded hands, would awaken compassion in the heart even of his enemies. To the compassionate he is a great attraction.

Pitying that man, the Bodhisattva comforted him with kind words such as one could hardly expect in that time.

"Be not afflicted, thinking you have lost your strength by your fall onto this precipice or that you have no relations to help you. What those would do for you, I will also accomplish. Have no fear."

After uttering these comforting words, the Great Being provided the man with tindukas and other fruits. Then, with the object of rescuing him, he went away to another place, where he exercised by climbing up while having a stone equal to a man's weight on his back. Having learnt the measure of his strength and convincing himself that he could carry the man out of the waterfall, he descended to the bottom of the precipice, and moved by compassion, said the following words:

"Come, climb upon my back and cling fast to me, while I shall bring out both you and the usefulness of my body. For the pious pronounce this to be the usefulness of the body, otherwise a worthless thing, that it may be employed by the wise as an instrument for benefiting our neighbor."

The other agreed, and after reverentially bowing to the ape, mounted on his back. So with that man on his back, stooping under the pain of the exceeding heaviness of his burden, yet, owing to the intensity of his goodness, with unshaken firmness of mind, he succeeded in rescuing him, though with great difficulty.

And having delivered him, he enjoyed the highest gladness, but was so exhausted, that he walked with an unstable and tottering step, and chose some cloud-black slab of stone to lie upon, that he might take his rest.

Pure-hearted as he was and being his benefactor, the Bodhisattva did not suspect danger from the part of that man, and trustingly said to him: "This part of the forest being easily accessible, is exposed to the free course of ferocious animals. Therefore, so that nobody may kill me and his own future happiness by means of making a sudden attack, you must carefully look out in all directions and keep guard over me and yourself while I am taking my rest from fatigue. My body is utterly tired, and I want to sleep a little while."

The man promised to do so. Assuming the frank language of honesty, he said: "Sleep, sir, as long as you like, and may your awaking be glad! I stay here, keeping guard over you."

But when the Great Being, in consequence of his fatigue, had fallen asleep, he conceived these wicked thoughts within his mind: "Roots to be obtained with hard effort or forest-fruits offered by chance are my livelihood here. How can my emaciated body sustain life by them? how much less, recover its strength? And how shall I succeed in traversing this wilderness hard to pass, if I am infirm? Yet, in the body of this ape I should have food amply sufficient to get out of this troublesome wilderness.

"Although he has done good to me, I may feed on him. I may, for he has been created such a being. I may, for here the rules given for times of distress 1 are applicable, to be sure. For this reason I have to get my provisions from his body. But I am only able to kill him while he is sleeping the profound and quiet sleep of trustfulness. For if he were to be attacked in open fight, even a lion would not be assured of victory. Therefore, there is no time to lose now."

Having thus made up his mind, that scoundrel, troubled in his thoughts by sinful lust which had destroyed within him his gratitude, his consciousness of the moral precepts, and even his tender innate feeling of compassion, not minding his great weakness of body, and listening only to his extreme desire to perform that vile action, took a stone, and made it fall straight down on the head of the great ape.

But, being sent by a hand trembling with weakness, because of his great cupidity, that stone, flung with the desire of sending the monkey to the complete sleep of death, destroyed his sleep. It did not strike him with its whole weight, so that it did not dash his head to pieces; it only bruised it with one of its edges, and fell down on the earth with a thundering noise.

The Bodhisattva--whose head had been injured by the stone--jumped up hastily and looking around him to discover his injurer, saw nobody else but that very man who stood before him in the attitude of shame--confounded, timid, perplexed, and dejected--betraying his confusion by the ash-pale color of his face, which had lost its brightness. Sudden fright had dried up his throat, drops of sweat covered his body, and he did not venture to lift up his eyes.

As soon as the great ape realized that the man himself was the evil-doer, without minding the pain of his wound any longer, he felt himself utterly moved. He did not become angry, nor was he subdued by the sinful feeling of wrath. He was rather affected with compassion for him who, disregarding his own happiness, had committed that exceedingly vile deed.

Looking at him with eyes wet with tears, he lamented over the man, saying: "Friend, how have you, a man, been capable of doing an action like this? How could you even conceive of it? How could you undertake it, you who were bound to oppose with heroic valor any foe whosoever eager to hurt me would have assailed me?

"If I felt something like pride, thinking I performed a deed hard to be done, you have cast away from me that idea of haughtiness, having done something still more difficult to do. After being brought back from the other world, from the mouth of Death, as it were, you, scarcely saved from one precipice, have fallen into another, in truth!

"Fie upon ignorance, that vile and most cruel thing! For it is ignorance that throws the miserable creatures into distress, deceiving them with false hope of prosperity. You have ruined yourself, kindled the fire of sorrow in me, obscured the splendor of your reputation, obstructed your former love of virtues, and destroyed your trustworthiness, having become a mark for the arrows of reproach.

"What great profit, then, didst you expect by acting in that manner? The pain of this wound does not grieve me so much as this thought which makes my mind suffer; that it is on account of me that you have plunged into evil, but that I have not the power of wiping off that sin.

"Well then, go with me, keeping by my side, but mind to be always in my sight, for you art much to be distrusted. I will conduct you out of this forest, the abode of manifold dangers, again into the path which leads to the dwellings of men, lest roaming alone in this forest, emaciated and ignorant of the way, you should be assailed by somebody who, hurting you, would make fruitless my labor spent in your behalf."

(1) The tinduka or tinduki is the diosperos embryopteris, a common evergreen tree with long, glimmering leaves. The fruit is eatable, but excessively sour; it is a food of the poor.

So commiserating that man, the High-minded One conducted him to the border of the inhabited region, and having put him on his way, said again: "You have reached the habitations of men, friend; now you may leave this forest region with its fearful thickets and wildernesses. I bid you a happy journey and wish that you may endeavor to avoid evil actions. For the harvest of their evil results is an extremely painful time."

So the great ape pitied the man and instructed him as if he were his disciple, after which he went back to his abode in the forest. But the man who had attempted that exceedingly vile and sinful deed--tortured by the blazing fire of remorse--was all of a sudden struck with a dreadful attack of leprosy. His figure became changed, his skin was spotted with vesicles which, becoming ulcers and bursting, wetted his body with their matter, and made it putrid in a high degree.

To whatever country he came, he was an object of horror to men. So hideous was his distorted form; neither by his appearance did he resemble a human being nor by his changed voice, indicative of his pain. And people--thinking him to be the Devil embodied, drove him away, threatening him with uplifted clods and clubs and harsh words of menace.

One time roaming about in some forest, he was seen by a certain king who was hunting there. On perceiving his most horrible appearance-for he looked like a Preta1, the dirty remains of his garments having at last dropped off, so that he had hardly enough to cover his shame, that king, affected with curiosity mingled with fear, asked him thus:

"Your body is disfigured by leprosy, your skin spotted with ulcers; you art pale, emaciated, miserable; your hair is dirty with dust. Who art you? Art you a Preta, or a goblin, or the embodied Devil, or a Putana Or if one out of the number of sicknesses, which art you who display the assemblage of many diseases?" (2)

Upon which the other, bowing to the prince, answered in a faltering tone: "I am a man, great king, not a spirit."

And being asked again by the king, how he had come into that state, he confessed to him his wicked deed, and added these words: "This suffering here is only the blossom of the tree sown by that treacherous deed against my friend. 0, surely, its fruit will be still more miserable than this. Therefore, you ought to consider a treacherous deed against a friend as your foe. With kindhearted-ness you must look upon friends, who are kindhearted towards you.

"Those who adopt a hostile behavior against their friends, come into such a wretched state already in this world. From hence you may infer what will be in the other world the fate of those who, sullied in their mind by covetousness and other vices, attempted the life of their friends.

"He, on the other hand, whose mind is pervaded with kindness and affection for his friends, obtains a good reputation, is trusted by his friends and enjoys their benefits. He will possess gladness of mind and the virtue of humility, his enemies will consider him a man hard to offend, and finally he will gain residence in Heaven.

"Thus knowing the power and the consequences of good and evil behavior with respect to friends, 0 king, hold fast to the road followed by the virtuous. He who goes along on this will attain happiness."

In this manner, then, the virtuous grieve not so much for their own pain as for the loss of happiness incurred by their injurers. So is to be said, when discoursing on the great-mindedness of the Tathagata, and when treating of listening with attention to the preaching of the Law; likewise when dealing with the subjects of forbearance and faithfulness towards friends; also when demonstrating the sinfulness of evil deeds.

(2) A Putana is a kind of terrible looking ghost. Living in cemeteries, they like to feed on human flesh.

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