The Collected Works of Edwin Arnold: Buddhism & Hinduism Writings, Poetical Works & Plays. Edwin Arnold

night, from all quarters and regions, the birds came to roost. Now once, when the night was just spent, and his Radiance the Moon, Lover of the white lotus, was about to retire behind the western hills, a Crow who perched there, 'Light o' Leap' by name, upon awakening, saw to his great wonder a fowler approaching—a second God of Death. The sight set him reflecting, as he flew off uneasily to follow up the man's movements, and he began to think what mischief this ill-omened apparition foretold.

      "For a thousand thoughts of sorrow, and a hundred things of dread,

       By the wise unheeded, trouble day by day the foolish head."

      And yet in this life it must be that

      "Of the day's impending dangers, Sickness, Death, and Misery,

       One will be; the wise man waking, ponders which that one will be."

      Presently the fowler fixed a net, scattered grains of rice about, and withdrew to hide. At this moment "Speckle-neck," King of the Pigeons, chanced to be passing through the sky with his Court, and caught sight of the rice-grains. Thereupon the King of the Pigeons asked of his rice-loving followers, 'How can there possibly be rice-grains lying here in an unfrequented forest? We will see into it, of course, but We like not the look of it—love of rice may ruin us, as the Traveller was ruined.

      "All out of longing for a golden bangle,

       The Tiger, in the mud, the man did mangle."

      "How did that happen?" asked the Pigeons.

The Story of the Tiger and the Traveller

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      "Thus," replied Speckle-neck: "I was pecking about one day in the Deccan forest, and saw an old tiger sitting newly bathed on the bank of a pool, like a Brahman, and with holy kuskus-grass[3] in his paws.

      'Ho! ho! ye travellers,' he kept calling out, 'take this golden bangle!'

      Presently a covetous fellow passed by and heard him.

      'Ah!' thought he, 'this is a bit of luck—but I must not risk my neck for it either.

      "Good things come not out of bad things; wisely leave a longed-for ill.

       Nectar being mixed with poison serves no purpose but to kill."

      'But all gain is got by risk, so I will see into it at least;' then he called out, 'Where is thy bangle?'

      The Tiger stretched forth his paw and exhibited it.

      'Hem!' said the Traveller, 'can I trust such a fierce brute as thou art?'

      'Listen,' replied the Tiger, 'once, in the days of my cub-hood, I know I was very wicked. I killed cows, Brahmans, and men without number—and I lost my wife and children for it—and haven't kith or kin left. But lately I met a virtuous man who counselled me to practise the duty of almsgiving—and, as thou seest, I am strict at ablutions and alms. Besides, I am old, and my nails and fangs are gone—so who would mistrust me? and I have so far conquered selfishness, that I keep the golden bangle for whoso comes. Thou seemest poor! I will give it thee. Is it not said,

      'Give to poor men, son of Kûnti—on the wealthy waste not wealth;

       Good are simples for the sick man, good for nought to him in health.'

      'Wade over the pool, therefore, and take the bangle,'

      Thereupon the covetous Traveller determined to trust him, and waded into the pool, where he soon found himself plunged in mud, and unable to move.

      'Ho! ho!' says the Tiger, 'art thou stuck in a slough? stay, I will fetch thee out!'

      So saying he approached the wretched man and seized him—who meanwhile bitterly reflected—

      'Be his Scripture-learning wondrous, yet the cheat will be a cheat;

       Be her pasture ne'er so bitter, yet the cow's milk will be sweet.'

      And on that verse, too—

      'Trust not water, trust not weapons; trust not clawed nor horned things;

       Neither give thy soul to women, nor thy life to Sons of Kings.'

      And those others—

      'Look! the Moon, the silver roamer, from whose splendor darkness flies

       With his starry cohorts marching, like a crowned king through the skies.

       All the grandeur, all the glory, vanish in the Dragon's jaw;

       What is written on the forehead, that will be, and nothing more,'

      Here his meditations were cut short by the Tiger devouring him. "And that," said Speckle-neck, "is why we counselled caution."

      "Why, yes!" said a certain pigeon, with some presumption, "but you've read the verse—

      'Counsel in danger; of it

       Unwarned, be nothing begun.

       But nobody asks a Prophet

       Shall the risk of a dinner be run?'

      Hearing that, the Pigeons settled at once; for we know that

      "Avarice begetteth anger; blind desires from her begin;

       A right fruitful mother is she of a countless spawn of sin.'

      And again,

      'Can a golden Deer have being? yet for such the Hero pined:—

       When the cloud of danger hovers, then its shadow dims the mind.'

      Presently they were caught in the net. Thereat, indeed, they all began to abuse the pigeon by whose suggestion they had been ensnared. It is the old tale!

      "Be second and not first!—the share's the same

       If all go well. If not, the Head's to blame."

      And we should remember that

      "Passion will be Slave or Mistress: follow her, she brings to woe;

       Lead her, 'tis the way to Fortune. Choose the path that thou wilt go."

      When King Speckle-neck heard their reproaches, he said, "No, no! it is no fault of his.

      'When the time of trouble cometh, friends may ofttimes irk us most: For the calf at milking-hour the mother's leg is tying-post.'

      'And in disaster, dismay is a coward's quality; let us rather rely on fortitude, and devise some remedy. How saith the sage?

      "In good fortune not elated, in ill-fortune not dismayed,

       Ever eloquent in council, never in the fight affrayed—

       Proudly emulous of honor, steadfastly on wisdom set;

       Perfect virtues in the nature of a noble soul are met.

       Whoso hath them, gem and glory of the three wide worlds[4] is he; Happy mother she that bore him, she who nursed him on her knee."

      "Let us do this now directly," continued the King: "at one moment and with one will, rising under the net, let us fly off with it: for indeed

      'Small things wax exceeding mighty, being cunningly combined:—

       Furious elephants are fastened with a rope of grass-blades twined.'

      "And it is written, you know,

      'Let the household hold together, though the house be ne'er so small;

       Strip the rice-husk from the rice-grain, and it groweth not at all.'

      Having pondered this advice, the Pigeons adopted it; and flew away with the net. At first the fowler, who was at a distance, hoped to recover them, but as they passed out of sight