The Goblin's Gift

Once upon a time in the reign of Brahmadatta, king
of Benares, his queen-consort after falling into sin was
questioned by the king, and taking an oath she said, " If
I have sinned against you, I shall become a female
Yakkha with a face like a horse." After her death she
became a horse-faced Yakkha and dwelt in a rock-cave
in a vast forest at the foot of a mountain, and used to
catch and devour the men that frequented the road
leading from the East to the Western border. After
serving Vessavana 1 three years, it is said, she got leave
to eat people in a certain space, thirty leagues long by
five leagues broad. Now one day a rich, wealthy, hand-
some brahmin, accompanied by a large suite, ascended
that road. The Yakkha, on seeing him, with a loud neigh
rushed upon him, and his attendants all fled. With the
speed of the wind she seized the brahmin and threw him
on her back, and in entering the cave, through coming
into contact with the man, under the influence of passion
she conceived an affection for him, and instead of devour-
ing him she made him her husband, and they lived
harmoniously together. And thenceforth the Yakkha
whenever she captured men, also took their clothes and
rice and oil and the like, and serving him with various
dainty food she herself would eat man's flesh. And when-
ever she went away, for fear of his escaping, she closed the
mouth of the cave with a huge stone before leaving. And
while they were thus living amicably together, the Bodhi-
satta passing from his former existence was conceived in
the womb of the Yakkha by the brahmin. After ten
months she gave birth to a son, and filled with love for
the brahmin and her child, she fed them both. By and
by when the boy was grown up, she put him also inside the
cave with his father, and closed the door. Now one day
the Bodhisatta knowing she had gone away removed the
stone and let his father out. And when she asked on her
return who had removed the stone, he said, " I did, mother:
we cannot sit in darkness." And through love for her
child she did not say another word. Now one day the
Bodhisatta asked his father, saying, "Dear father, your
mouth is different from my mother's ; what is the reason ? "
"My son, your mother is a Yakkha and lives on man's
flesh, but you and I are men." "If so, why do we live
here? Come, we will go to the haunts of men." "My
dear boy, if we shall try to escape, your mother will kill
us both." The Bodhisatta reassured his father and said,
" Do not be afraid, dear father ; that you shall return to
the haunts of men shall be my charge." And next day
when his mother had gone away, he took his father and
fled. When the Yakkha returned and missed them, she
rushed forward with the swiftness of the wind and caught
them and said, "O brahmin, why do you run away? Is
there anything that you want here ? " " My dear," he said,
" do not be angry with me. Your son carried me off with
him." And without another word, owing to her love for
her child, she comforted them and making for her place
of abode she brought them back after a flight of some
days. The Bodhisatta thought, "My mother must have
a limited sphere of action. Suppose I were to ask her the
limits of space over which her authority extends. Then
I will escape by going beyond this." So one day sitting
respectfully near his mother he said, " My dear, that which
belongs to a mother comes to the children ; tell me now
what is the boundary of our ground." She told him all
the landmarks, mountains and such like in all directions,
and pointed out to her son the space, thirty leagues long
and five leagues broad, and said, "Consider it to be so
much, my son." After the lapse of two or three days,
when his mother had gone to the forest, he put his father
on his shoulder and rushing on with the swiftness of the
wind, by the hint given him by his mother, he reached the
bank of the river that was the limit. The mother too,
when on her return she missed them, pursued after them.
The Bodhisatta carried his father into the middle of the
river, and she came and stood on the river bank, and
when she saw that they had passed beyond the limits of
her sphere, she stopped where she was, and cried, "My
dear child, come here with your father. What is my
offence ? In what respect do not things go well with you ?
Come back, my lord." Thus did she beseech her child
and husband. So the brahmin crossed the river. She
prayed to her child also, and said, " Dear son, do not act
after this sort : come back again." "Mother, we are men:
you are a Yakkha. We cannot always abide with you."
"And will you not return?" "No, mother." "Then if
you refuse to return as it is painful to live in the world
of men, and they who know not any craft cannot live I
am skilled in the lore of a wishing-jewel : by its power,
one can follow after the lapse of twelve years in the steps
of those that have gone away. This will prove a livelihood
to you. Take, my child, this invaluable charm." And
though overcome by such great sorrow, through love of
her child, she gave him the charm. The Bodhisatta, still
standing in the river, folded his hands tortoise-wise and
took the charm, and saluting his mother cried, "Good-bye,
mother." The Yakkha said, "If you do not return, my
son, I cannot live," and she smote upon her breast, and
straightway in sorrow for her son her heart was broken
and she fell down dead on the spot. The Bodhisatta,
when he knew his mother was dead, called to his father
and went and made a funeral pile and burned her body.
After extinguishing the flames, he made offerings of
various coloured flowers, and with weeping and lamenta-
tion returned with his father to Benares.

It was told the king, "A youth skilled in tracking
footsteps is standing at the door." And when the king
bade him enter, he came in and saluted the king. "My
friend," he said, "do you know any craft?" "My lord,
following on the track of one who has stolen any pro-
perty twelve years ago, I can catch him." "Then enter
my service," said the king. "I will serve you for a
thousand pieces of money daily." " Very well, friend, you
shall serve me." And the king had him paid a thousand
pieces of money daily. Now one day the family priest
said to the king, "My lord, because this youth does
nothing by the power of his art, we do not know whether
he has any skill or not : we will now test him." The king
readily agreed, and the pair gave notice to the keepers of
the various treasures, and taking the most valuable jewels
descended from the terrace, and after groping their way
three times round the palace, they placed a ladder on the
top of the wall and by means of it descended to the out-
side. Then they entered the Hall of Justice, and after
sitting there they returned and again placing the ladder
on the wall descended into the harem. Coming to the
edge of a tank they thrice marched rightwise round it, and
then dropped their treasure in the tank, and climbed
back to the terrace. Next day there was a great outcry
and men said, " Treasure has been stolen from the palace."
The king pretending ignorance summoned the Bodhisatta
and said, " Friend, much valuable treasure has been stolen
from the palace : we must trace it." " My lord, for one
who is able to follow the traces of robbers and recover
treasure stolen twelve years ago, there is nothing mar-
vellous in his recovering stolen property after a single day
and night. I will recover it ; do not be troubled." " Then
recover it, friend." "Very well, my lord," he said, and
went and saluting his mother's memory he repeated the
spell, still standing on the terrace, and said, " My lord, the
steps of two thieves are to be seen." And following in
the steps of the king and the priest he entered the royal
closet, and issuing thence he descended from the terrace,
and after thrice making a circuit of the palace he drew
near the wall. Standing on it he said, " My lord, starting
in this place from the wall I see footsteps in the air : bring
me a ladder." And having had a ladder placed for him
against the Avail, he descended by it, and still following in
their track he came to the Hall of Justice. Then return-
ing to the palace he had the ladder planted against the
wall, and descending by it he came to the tank. Going
thrice rightwise round it he said, "My lord, the thieves
went down into this tank," and taking out the treasure, as
if he had deposited it there himself, he gave it to the king
and said, "My lord, these two thieves are men of dis-
tinction: by this way they climbed up into the palace."
The people snapped their fingers in a high state of
delight, and there was a great waving of cloths. The
king thought, " This youth, methinks, by following in their
steps knows the place where the thieves put the treasure,
but the thieves he cannot catch." Then he said, " You at
once brought us the property carried off by the thieves,
but will you be able to catch the thieves and bring them
to us ? " " My lord, the thieves are here : they are not far
off." "Who are they?" "Great king, let any one that
likes be the thief. From the time you recovered your
treasure, why should you want the thieves ? Do not ask
about that." " Friend, I pay you daily a thousand pieces of
money : bring the thieves to me." " Sire, when the treasure
is recovered, what need of the thieves?" "It is better,
friend, for us to catch the thieves than to recover the
treasure." " Then, sire, I will not tell you, ' So and so are
the thieves,' but I will tell you a thing that happened long
ago. If you are wise, you will know what it means." And
herewith he told an old tale.

Once upon a time, sire, a certain dancer named Patala
lived not far from Benares, in a village on the river's
bank. One day he went into Benares with his wife and
after gaining money by his singing and dancing, at the
end of the fete he procured some rice and strong drink.
On his way to his own village he came to the bank of the
river, and sat down watching the freshly flowing stream,
to drink his strong drink. When he was drunk and
unconscious of his weakness, he said, "I will fasten my
big lute about my neck and go down into the river."
And he took his wife by the hand and went down into
the river. The water entered into the holes of the lute,
and then the weight of his lute made him begin to sink.
But when his wife saw he was sinking, she let go of him
and went up out of the river and stood upon the bank.
The dancer Patala now rises and now sinks, and his belly
became swollen from swallowing the water. So his wife
thought, "My husband will now die: I will beg of him
one song, and by singing this in the midst of the people,
I shall earn my living." And saying, "My lord, you are
sinking in the water: give me just one song, and I will
earn my living by it," she spoke this stanza:

Patala, by Ganges swept away,
Famous iu dance and skilled in roundelay,
Patala, all hail! as thou art borne along,
Sing me, I pray, some little snatch of song.

Then the dancer Patala said, "My dear, how shall
I give you a little song? The water that has been the
salvation of the people is killing me," and he spoke a
stanza :

Wherewith are sprinkled fainting souls in pain,

1 straight am killed. My refuge proved my bane.

The Bodhisatta in explanation of this stanza said:
" Sire, even as water is the refuge of the people, so also
is it with kings. If danger arises from them, who shall
avert that danger ? This, sire, is a secret matter. I have
told a story intelligible to the wise: understand it, sire."
" Friend, I understand not a hidden story like this. Catch
the thieves and bring them to me." Then the Bodhisatta
said, " Hear then this, sire, and understand." And he told
yet another tale.

" My lord, formerly in a village outside the city gates
of Benares, a potter used to fetch clay for his pottery,
and constantly getting it in the same place he dug a deep
pit inside a mountain-cave. Now one day while he was
getting the clay, an unseasonable storm-cloud sprang up,
and let fall a heavy rain, and the flood overwhelmed and
threw down the side of the pit, and the man's head was
broken by it. Loudly lamenting he spoke this stanza :

That by which seeds do grow, man to sustain,
Has crushed my head. My refuge proved my bane.

" For even as the mighty earth, sire, which is the refuge
of the people, broke the potter's head, even so when a
king, who like the mighty earth is the refuge of the whole
world, rises up and plays the thief, who shall avert the
danger ? Can you, sire, recognise the thief hidden under
the guise of this story ? " " Friend, we do not want any
hidden meaning. Say, ' Here is the thief,' and catch him
and hand him over to me."

Still shielding the king and without saying in words,
"Thou art the thief," he told yet another story.

In this very city, sire, a certain man's house was on fire.
He ordered another man to go into the house and bring
out his property. When this man had entered the house
and was bringing out his goods, the door was shut. Blinded
with smoke and unable to find his way out and tormented
by the rising flame, he remained inside lamenting, and
spoke this stanza:

That which destroys the cold, and parches grain,
Consumes my limbs. My refuge proves my bane.

"A man, O king, who like fire was the refuge of the
people, stole the bundle of jewels. Do not ask me about
the thief." "Friend, just bring me the thief." Without
telling the king that he was a thief, he told yet another
story.

Once, sire, in this very city a man ate to excess and
was unable to digest his food. Maddened with pain and
lamenting he spoke this stanza :

Food on which countless brahmins life sustain
Killed me outright. My refuge proved my bane.

"One, who like rice, sire, was the refuge of the people,
stole the property. When that is recovered, why ask
about the thief?" "Friend, if you can, bring me the thief."
To make the king comprehend, he told yet another story.

Formerly, sire, in this very city a wind arose and broke
a certain man's limbs. Lamenting he spoke this stanza :

Wind that in June wise men by prayer would gain,
My limbs doth break. My refuge proved my baue.

" Thus, sire, did danger arise from his refuge. Under-
stand this story." "Friend, bring me the thief." To make
the king understand, he told him yet another story.

"Once upon a time, sire, on the side of the Himalayas
grew a tree with forked branches, the dwelling-place of
countless birds. Two of its boughs rubbed against one
another. Hence arose smoke, and sparks of fire were let
fall. On seeing this the chief bird uttered this stanza:

Flame issues from the tree where we have laiu-.
Scatter ye birds. Our refuge proves our bane.

"For just as, sire, the tree is the refuge of birds, so is
the king the refuge of his people. Should he play the
thief, Avho shall avert the danger? Take note of this, sire."
"Friend, only bring me the thief." Then he told the king
yet another story.

In a village of Benares, sire, on the western side of a
gentleman's house was a river full of savage crocodiles,
and in this family was an only son, who on the death of
his father watched over his mother. His mother against
his will brought home a gentleman's daughter as his wife.
At first she shewed affection for her mother-in-law, but
afterwards when blest with numerous sons and daughters
of her own, she wished to get rid of her. Her own mother
also lived in the same house. In her husband's presence
she found all manner of fault with her mother-in-law, to
prejudice him against her, saying, "I cannot possibly
support your mother : you must kill her." And when he
answered, "Murder is a serious matter : how am I to kill
her?'' she said, "When she has fallen asleep, we will take
her, bed and all, and throw her into the crocodile river.
Then the crocodiles will make an end of her." "And
where is your mother?" he said. "She sleeps in the same
room as your mother." "Then go and set a mark on the
bed on which she lies, by fastening a rope on it." She did
so, and said, "I have put a mark on it." The husband
said, "Excuse me a moment ; let the people go to bed
first." And he lay down pretending to go to sleep, and
then went and fastened the rope on his mother-in-law's
bed. Then he woke his wife, and they went together
and lifting her up, bed and all, threw her into the river.
And the crocodiles there killed and ate her. Next day she
found out what had happened to her own mother, and
said, "My lord, my mother is dead, now let us kill yours."
"Very well then," he said, "we will make a funeral pile in
the cemetery, and cast her into the fire and kill her." So
the man and his wife took her while she was asleep to the
cemetery, and deposited her there. Then the husband
said to his wife, "Have you brought any fire?" "I have
forgotten it, my lord." "Then go and fetch it." "I dare
not go, my lord, and if you go, I dare not stay here : we
will go together." When they were gone, the old woman
was awakened by the cold wind, and finding it was a
cemetery, she thought, "They wish to kill me: they are
gone to fetch fire. They do not know how strong I am."
And she stretched a corpse on the bed and covered it
over with a cloth, and ran away and hid herself in a
mountain-cave in that same place. The husband and wife
brought the fire and taking the corpse to be the old
woman they burned it and went away. A certain robber
had left his bundle in this mountain-cave and coming
back to fetch it he saw the old woman and thought, "This
must be a Yakkha : my bundle is possessed by goblins,"
and he fetched a devil-doctor. The doctor uttered a spell
and entered the cave. Then she said to him, "I am
no Yakkha ; come, we will enjoy this treasure together."
"How is this to be believed?" "Place your tongue on my
tongue." He did so, and she bit a piece off his tongue
and let it drop to the ground. The devil-doctor thought,
" This is certainly a Yakkha," and he cried aloud and fled
away, with the blood dripping from his tongue. Next
day the old woman put on a clean undergarment and took
the bundle of all sorts of jewels and went home. The
daughter-in-law on seeing her asked, "Where, mother, did
you get this?" "My dear, all that are burned on a
wooden pile in this cemetery receive the same." "My
dear mother, can I too get this?" "If you become like
me, you will." So without saying a word to her husband,
in her desire for a lot of ornaments to wear, she went
there and burned herself. Her husband next day missed
her and said, "My dear mother, at this time of day is
not your daughter-in-law coming?" Then she reproached
him saying, " Fie ! you bad man, how do the dead come
back?" And she uttered this stanza:

A maiden fair, with wreath upon her head,

Fragrant with sandal oil, by ine was led

A happy bride within my home to reign :

She drove me forth. My refuge proved my bane.

"As the daughter-in-law, sire, is to the mother-in-law,
so is the king a refuge to his people. If danger arises
thence, what can one do ? take note of this, sire." " Friend,
I do not understand the things you tell me ; only bring
me the thief." He thought, " I will shield the king," and
he told yet another story.

Of old, sire, in this very city a man in answer to his
prayer had a son. At his birth the father was full of joy
and gladness at the thought of having got a son, and
cherished him. When the boy was grown up, he wedded
him to a wife, and by and by he himself grew old and
could not undertake any work. So his son said, "You
cannot do any work : you must go from hence," and he
drove him out of the house. With great difficulty he
kept himself alive on alms, and lamenting he uttered this
stanza :

He for whose birth I longed, nor longed in vain,
Drives me from home. My refuge proved my bane.

" Just as an aged father, sire, ought to be cared for by
an able-bodied son, so too ought all the people to be
protected by the king, and this danger now present has
arisen from the king, who is the guardian of all men. Know,
sire, from this fact that the thief is so and so." " I do not
understand this, be it fact or no fact : either bring me the
thief, or you yourself must be the thief." Thus did the
king again and again question the youth. So he said to
him, "Would you, sire, really like the thief to be caught?"
"Yes, friend." "Then I will proclaim it in the midst of
the assembly, So and So is the thief," "Do so, friend."
On hearing his words he thought, "This king does not
allow me to shield him: I will now catch the thief." And
when the people had gathered together, he addressed
them and spoke these stanzas:

Let town and country folk assembled all give ear,

Lo! water is ablaze. From safety cometh fear.

The plundered realm may well of king and priest complain;

Henceforth protect yourselves. Tour refuge proves your bane.

When they heard what he said, the people thought,
"The king, though he ought to have protected others,
threw the blame on another. After he had with his own
hands placed his treasure in the tank, he went about
looking for the thief. That he may not in future go on
playing the part of a thief, we will kill this wicked king."

So they rose up with sticks and clubs in their hands, and
then and there beat the king and the priest till they died.
But they sprinkled the Bodhisatta with the ceremonial
sprinkling and set him on the throne.