KATHA SARIT SAGARA Chapter LXX.

 

Chapter LXX.

Accordingly Mṛigánkadatta, being desirous to obtain Śaśánkavatí the daughter of king Karmasena, who had been described by the Vetála, planned with his ministers to leave his city secretly, disguised as a Páśupata ascetic, in order to travel to Ujjayiní. And the prince himself directed his minister Bhímaparákrama to bring the necessary staves like bed-posts, the skulls, and so on. And the head minister of the king his father found out, by means of a spy, that Bhímaparákrama had collected all these things in his house. And at that time it happened that Mṛigánkadatta, while walking about on the top of his palace, spit down some betel-juice. And as ill-luck would have it, it fell on the head of his father’s minister, who happened to be walking below, unseen by the prince. But the minister, knowing that Mṛigánkadatta had spit down that betel-juice, bathed, and laid up in his heart a grudge against Mṛigánkadatta on account of the insult.

 

Now it happened that the next day king Amaradatta, the father of Mṛigánkadatta, had an attack of cholera, and then the minister saw his chance, and, after imploring an assurance of safety, he said in secret to the king, who was tortured with his sudden attack of disease, “The fact is, my sovereign, your son Mṛigánkadatta has begun incantations against you in the house of Bhímaparákrama, that is why you are suffering. I found it out by means of a spy, and the thing is obvious for all to see, so banish your son from your realm and your disease from your body at the same time.” When the king heard that, he was terrified, and sent his own general to the house of Bhímaparákrama, to investigate the matter. And he found the hair, and the skulls, and other articles, and immediately brought those very things and shewed them to the king. And the king in his anger said to the general, “That son of mine is conspiring against me, because he wishes to reign himself, so expel him from the kingdom this very moment without delay, together with his ministers.” For a confiding king never sees through the wicked practices of his ministers. So the general went and communicated that order of the king’s, and expelled Mṛigánkadatta from the city, together with his ministers.

 

Then Mṛigánkadatta was delighted at having obtained his object, and he worshipped Gaṇeśa, and mentally took a humble leave of his parents, and started off. And after they had gone a great distance from the town of Ayodhyá, the prince said to Prachaṇḍaśakti and the other nine ministers who were travelling with him, “There is here a great king of the Kirátas, named Śaktirakshita; he is a student in the sciences, observing a vow of chastity, and he is a friend of mine from childhood. For, when his father was long ago captured in battle, he sent him here to be imprisoned as a substitute for himself, in order to obtain his own release. And when his father died, his relations by the father’s side rose against him, and at my instigation my father established him on the throne of his father with a military force. So let us go to him, my friends, and then we will travel on to Ujjayiní, to find that Śaśánkavatí.”

 

When he said this, all the ministers exclaimed, “So be it,” and he set out with them and reached in the evening a great wilderness. It was devoid of trees and water, and it was with difficulty that at last he found a tank, with one withered tree growing upon its banks. There he performed the evening ceremonies, and drank water, and being fatigued, he went to sleep with his ministers under that dry tree. And in the night, which was illuminated by the moon, he woke up, and saw that the tree first put forth abundance of leaves, then of flowers, then of fruit. And when he saw its ripe fruit falling, he immediately woke up his ministers, and pointed out that marvel to them. Then they were astonished, and as they were hungry, he and they ate the delicious fruits of that tree together, and after they had eaten them, the dry tree suddenly became a young Bráhman, before the eyes of them all. And when Mṛigánkadatta questioned him, he told his tale in the following words.

 

 

Story of Śrutadhi.

There was an excellent Bráhman in Ayodhyá named Dámadhi. I am his son, and my name is Śrutadhi. And once in a time of famine he was wandering about with me, and he reached this place almost dead. Here he got five fruits which some one gave him, and though he was exhausted with hunger, he gave three to me, and set aside two for himself. Then he went into the water of the lake to bathe, and in the meanwhile I ate all the five fruits, and pretended to be asleep. He returned after bathing, and beholding me cunningly lying here as motionless as a log, he cursed me, saving, “Become a dry tree here on the bank of the lake. And on moonlight nights flowers and fruit shall spring from you, and when once on a time you shall have refreshed guests with fruits, you shall be delivered from your curse.” As soon as my father had pronounced this curse on me, I became a dry tree, but now that you have tasted my fruit, I have been delivered from the curse, after enduring it for a long time.

 

After Śrutadhi had related his own history, he asked Mṛigánkadatta for his, and he told it him. Then Śrutadhi, who had no relations, and was well-read in policy, asked Mṛigánkadatta to permit him, as a favour, to attach himself to his service. So, after he had spent the night in this way, Mṛigánkadatta set out next morning with his ministers. And in the course of his journey he came to a forest named Karimaṇḍita. There he saw five wild looking men with long hair, who aroused his wonder. Then the five men came and respectfully addressed him as follows:

 

“We were born in the city of Káśí as Bráhmans who lived by keeping cows. And during a famine we came from that country, where the grass was scorched by drought, with our cows, to this wood which abounds in grass. And here we found an elixir in the form of the water of a tank, continually flavoured with the three kinds of fruits that drop from the trees growing on its bank. And five hundred years have passed over our heads in this uninhabited wood, while we have been drinking this water and the milk of cows. It is thus, prince, that we have become such as you see, and now destiny has sent you to us as guests, so come to our hermitage.”

 

When thus invited by them, Mṛigánkadatta went with them to their hermitage, taking his companions with him, and spent the day there living on milk. And he set out from it in the morning, and in course of time he reached the country of the Kirátas, seeing other wonderful sights on the way. And he sent on Śrutadhi to inform his friend Śaktirakshita, the king of the Kirátas, of his arrival. When the sovereign of the Kirátas heard of it, he went to meet Mṛigánkadatta with great courtesy, and conducted him with his ministers into his city. Mṛigánkadatta told him the cause of his arrival, and remained there for some days, being entertained by him. And the prince arranged that Śaktirakshita should be ready to assist him in his undertaking when the proper time came, and then he set out, on an auspicious day, for Ujjayiní, with his eleven companions, having been captivated by Śaśánkavatí.

 

And as he went along, he reached an uninhabited forest and saw standing under a tree an ascetic, with ashes on his body, a deer-skin, and matted hair. So he went up to him, with his followers, and said to him; “Reverend sir, why do you live alone in this forest in which there is no hermitage?” Then the hermit answered him, “I am a pupil of the great sage named Śuddhakírti and I know innumerable spells. Once on a time I got hold of a certain Kshatriya boy with auspicious marks, and I exerted all my diligence to cause him to be possessed, while alive, by a spirit, and, when the boy was possessed, I questioned him, and he told me of many places for potent drugs and liquors, and then said this; ‘There is in this Vindhya forest in the northern quarter a solitary aśoka-tree, and under it there is a great palace of a snake-king. In the middle of the day its water is concealed with moistened dust, but it can be discovered by the couples of swans sporting there together with the water-cranes. There dwells a mighty chief of the snakes, named Párávatáksha, and he obtained a matchless sword from the war of the gods and Asuras, named Vaidúryakánti; whatever man obtains that sword will become a chief of the Siddhas and roam about unconquered, and that sword can only be obtained by the aid of heroes.’ When the possessed boy had said this, I dismissed him. So I have wandered about over the earth desirous to obtain that sword, and caring for nothing else, but, as I have not been able to find men to help me, in disgust I have come here to die.” When Mṛigánkadatta heard the ascetic say this, he said to him, “I and my ministers will help you.” The ascetic gladly accepted his offer, and went with him and his followers, by the help of an ointment rubbed on the feet, to the dwelling-place of that snake. There he found the sign by which it could be recognised, and he placed there at night Mṛigánkadatta and his companions, duly initiated, fixed with spells; and throwing enchanted mustard-seed he cleared the water from dust, and began to offer an oblation with snake-subduing spells. And he conquered by the power of his spells the impediments, such as earthquakes, clouds, and so on. Then there came out from that aśoka-tree a heavenly nymph, as it were, murmuring spells with the tinkling of her jewelled ornaments, and approaching the ascetic she pierced his soul with a sidelong glance of love. And then the ascetic lost his self-command and forgot his spells; and the shapely fair one, embracing him, flung from his hand the vessel of oblation. And then the snake Párávatáksha had gained his opportunity, and he came out from that palace like the dense cloud of the day of doom. Then the heavenly nymph vanished, and the ascetic beholding the snake terrible with flaming eyes, roaring horribly, died of a broken heart.

 

When he was destroyed, the snake laid aside his awful form, and cursed Mṛigánkadatta and his followers, for helping the ascetic, in the following words, “Since you did what was quite unnecessary after all coming here with this man, you shall be for a certain time separated from one another.” Then the snake disappeared, and all of them at the same time had their eyes dimmed with darkness, and were deprived of the power of hearing sounds. And they immediately went in different directions, separated from one another by the power of the curse, though they kept looking for one another and calling to one another. And when the delusion of the night was at an end, Mṛigánkadatta found himself roaming about in the wood without his ministers.

 

And, after two or three months had passed, the Bráhman Śrutadhi, who was looking for him, suddenly fell in with him. Mṛigánkadatta received him kindly, and asked for news of his ministers, whereupon Śrutadhi fell at his feet weeping, and consoled him, and said to him, “I have not seen them, prince, but I know they will go to Ujjayiní, for that is the place we all have to go to.” With these and similar speeches he urged the prince to go there, so Mṛigánkadatta set out with him slowly for Ujjayiní.

 

And after he had journeyed a few days, he found his own minister Vimalabuddhi who suddenly came that way. When the minister saw him, he bowed before him with eyes filled with tears at seeing him, and the prince embraced him, and making him sit down, he asked him for tidings of the other ministers. Then Vimalabuddhi said to that prince, who was so beloved by his servants, “I do not know, king, where each of them has gone in consequence of the curse of the snake. But hear how I know that you will find them again.”

 

 

The adventures of Vimalabuddhi after he was separated from the prince.

When the snake cursed me, I was carried far away by the curse, and wandered in the eastern part of the forest. And being fatigued, I was taken by a certain kind person to the hermitage of a certain hermit, named Brahmadaṇḍin. There my fatigue was removed by the fruits and water which the sage gave me, and, roaming away far from the hermitage, I saw a vast cave. I entered it out of curiosity, and I saw inside it a palace made of jewels, and I began to look into the palace through the lattice-windows. And lo! there was in it a woman causing to revolve a wheel with bees, and those bees made some of them for a bull, and others for a donkey, both which creatures were standing there. And some drank the foam of milk sent forth by the bull, and others the foam of blood sent forth by the donkey, and became white and black, according to the colour of the two objects on which they settled; and then they all turned into spiders. And the spiders, which were of two different colours, made two different-coloured webs with their excrements. And one set of webs was hung on wholesome flowers, and the other on poisonous flowers. And the spiders, that were clinging to those webs as they pleased, were bitten by a great snake which came there, having two mouths, one white, and the other black. Then the woman put them in various pitchers, but they got out again, and began to occupy the same webs again respectively. Then those, that were on the webs attached to the poisonous flowers, began to cry out, owing to the violence of the poison. And thereupon the others, that were on the other webs, began to cry out also. But the noise interrupted the meditation of a certain merciful ascetic who was there, who discharged fire at the webs. Then the webs, in which the spiders were entangled, were burnt up, and the spiders entered a hollow coral rod, and disappeared in a gleaming light at the top of it. In the meanwhile the woman disappeared with her wheel, her bull, and her donkey.

 

When I had seen this, I continued to roam about there in a state of astonishment; and then I saw a charming lake, which seemed by means of its lotuses, round which bees hummed, to summon me thither to look at it. And while I sat on the bank and looked at it, I beheld a great wood inside the water, and in the wood was a hunter, and the hunter had got hold of a lion’s cub with ten arms which he brought up, and then banished from the wood in anger, on the ground that it was disobedient. The lion then heard the voice of a lioness in a neighbouring wood, and was going in the direction of the sound, when his ten arms were scattered by a whirlwind. Then a man with a protuberant belly came and restored his arms as they were before, and he went to that forest in search of the lioness. He endured for her sake much hardship in that other forest, and at last obtained her whom he had had for a wife in a former state, and with her returned to his own forest. And when the hunter saw that lion return with his mate to the forest, which was his hereditary abode, he resigned it to him and departed.

 

When I had seen this, I returned to the hermitage and described both those very wonderful spectacles to Brahmadaṇḍin. And that hermit, who knows the past, present, and future, kindly said to me, “You are fortunate; Śiva has shewn you all this by way of favour. That woman, whom you saw, is Illusion, and the wheel which she caused to revolve, is the wheel of mundane existence, and the bees are living creatures. And the bull and the donkey are respectively symbols of Righteousness and Unrighteousness, and the foam of milk and the foam of blood discharged by them, to which the bees repaired, are typical of good and evil actions. And they acquired properties arising from the things on which they respectively settled, and became spiders of two kinds, white and foul respectively; and then with their energy, which was symbolized by excrement, they produced entangling nets of two kinds, such as offspring and so on, which were attached to wholesome and poisonous flowers, which signify happiness and misery. And while clinging each to its own web, they were bitten by a snake, typical of Death, with its two mouths, the white set with the white mouth symbolical of good fortune, the other with the black mouth symbolical of evil fortune.

 

Then that female, typifying Illusion plunged them into various wombs typified by the jars, and they again emerged from them, and assuming forms white and black, corresponding to what they had before, they fell into entangling webs, which are symbolical of sons and other worldly connexions, resulting in happiness and misery. Then the black spiders, entangled in their webs, being tortured by the poison, symbolical of pain, began in their affliction to invoke the supreme lord as their help. When the white spiders, who were in their own webs, perceived that, they also became averse to their state, and began to invoke that same lord. Then the god, who was present in the form of an ascetic, awoke from his trance, and consumed all their entangling webs with the fire of knowledge. Accordingly they ascended into the bright coral tube, typical of the orb of the sun, and reached the highest home, which lies above it. And then Illusion vanished, with the revolving wheel of births, and with her ox, and her ass, typical of Righteousness and Unrighteousness.

 

Even thus in the circle of existence revolve creatures, fair and foul according to their actions, and they are liberated by propitiating Śiva; and this spectacle has been shown to you by Śiva to teach you this lesson, and to put an end to your delusion. As for that sight which you saw in the water of the tank, this is the explanation of it. The holy god produced this apparent reflection in the water, in order to teach you what was destined to befall Mṛigánkadatta. For he may be compared to a young lion-whelp, and he was brought up with ten ministers round him resembling ten arms, and he was banished in anger by his father, (typified by the hunter) from his native land, typified by the forest: and on hearing the report of Śaśánkavatí, (who may be compared to a lioness,) coming from the land of Avanti, (symbolized by the other wood,) he made towards her, and the wind which stripped him of his arms is the curse of the snake, which separated him from his ministers. Then Vináyaka appeared as a man with a pendulous belly, and restored to him his arms, (that is to say, his ministers,) and so he recovered his former condition. Then he went and after enduring great hardship, obtained from another place the lioness, (that is Śaśánkavatí,) and returned. And when the hunter, (that is his father,) saw him coming near with his wife, having swept away the obstacles which his foes put in his way, he resigned to him the whole of his forest, (that is his kingdom,) and retired to a grove of ascetics. Thus has Śiva shewn you the future as if it had already taken place. So you may be sure, your master will recover you, his ministers, and obtain his wife and his kingdom.” When the excellent hermit had thus instructed me, I recovered hope and left that hermitage, and travelling along slowly I have met you here, prince, to-day. So you may rest assured, prince, that you will recover Prachaṇḍaśakti, and your other ministers, and gain your object; you certainly gained the favour of Gaṇeśa by worshipping him before you set out.

 

When Mṛigánkadatta had listened for a while to this strange story of Vimalabuddhi’s, he was much pleased, and after he had again deliberated with him, he set out for the city of Avanti, with the double object of accomplishing his enterprise and recovering his other ministers.