The Pigeon and The Crow

Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in
Benares, the Bodhisatta was born a pigeon. Now the
Benares folk of those days, as an act of goodness, used
to hang up straw-baskets in divers places for the shelter
and comfort of the birds ; and the cook of the gildmaster
of Benares hung up one of these baskets in his kitchen.
In this basket the Bodhisatta took up his abode, sallying
out at daybreak in quest of food, and returning home in
the evening; and so he lived his life.

But one day a crow, flying over the kitchen, snuffed
up the goodly savour from the salt and fresh fish and
meat there, and was filled with longing to taste it. Casting
about how to have his will, he perched hard by, and at
evening saw the Bodhisatta come home and go into the
kitchen. "Ah!" thought he, "I can manage it through
the pigeon."

So back he came next day at dawn, and, when the
Bodhisatta sallied out in quest of food, kept following
him about from place to place like his shadow. So the
Bodhisatta said, " Why do you keep with me, friend ? "

"My lord," answered the crow, "your demeanour has
won my admiration ; and henceforth it is my wish to
follow you." "But your kind of food and mine, friend,
are not the same," said the Bodhisatta ; " you will be hard
put to it if you attach yourself to me." " My lord," said
the crow, "when you are seeking your food, I will feed
too, by your side." " So be it, then," said the Bodhisatta ;
" only you must be earnest." And with this admonition
to the crow, the Bodhisatta ranged about pecking up
grass-seeds; whilst the other went about turning over
cowdung and picking out the insects underneath till he
had got his fill. Then back he came to the Bodhisatta
and remarked, "My lord, you give too much time to
eating; excess therein should be shunned."

And when the Bodhisatta had fed and reached home
again at evening, in flew the crow with him into the
kitchen.

"Why, our bird has brought another home with him";
exclaimed the cook, and hung up a second basket for the
crow. And from that time onward the two birds dwelt
together in the kitchen.

Now one day the gildmaster had in a store of fish
which the cook hung up about the kitchen. Filled with
greedy longing at the sight, the crow made up his mind
to stay at home next day and treat himself to this ex-
cellent fare.

So all the night long he lay groaning away ; and next
day, when the Bodhisatta was starting in search of food,
and cried, "Come along, friend crow," the crow replied,
"Go without me, my lord; for I have a pain in my
stomach." "Friend," answered the Bodhisatta, "I never
heard of crows having pains in their stomachs before.
True, crows feel faint in each of the three night-watches;
but if they eat a lamp-wick, their hunger is appeased for
the moment. You must be hankering after the fish in
the kitchen here. Come now, man's food will not agree
with you. Do not give way like this, but come and seek
your food with me." "Indeed, I am not able, my lord,"
said the crow. " Well, your own conduct will shew," said
the Bodhisatta. " Only fall not a prey to greed, but stand
steadfast." And with this exhortation, away he flew to
find his daily food.

The cook took several kinds of fish, and dressed some
one way, some another. Then lifting the lids off his
saucepans a little to let the steam out, he put a colander
on the top of one and went outside the door, where he
stood wiping the sweat from his brow. Just at that
moment out popped the crow's head from the basket.
A glance told him that the cook was away, and, " Now or
never," thought he, "is my time. The only question is
shall I choose minced meat or a big lump ? " Arguing
that it takes a long time to make a full meal of minced
meat, he resolved to take a large piece of fish and sit and
eat it in his basket. So out he flew and alighted on the
colander. " Click " went the colander.

" What can that be ? " said the cook, running in on
hearing the noise. Seeing the crow, he cried, "Oh, there's
that rascally crow wanting to eat my master's dinner.
I have to work for my master, not for that rascal ! What's
he to me, I should like to know ? " So, first shutting the
door, he caught the crow and plucked every feather off
his body. Then, he pounded up ginger with salt and
cumin, and mixed in sour butter-milk finally sousing the
crow in the pickle and flinging him back into his basket.
And there the crow lay groaning, overcome by the agony
of his pain.

At evening the Bodhisatta came back, and saw the
wretched plight of the crow. "Ah ! greedy crow," he
exclaimed, " you would not heed my words, and now your
own greed has worked you woe." So saying, he repeated
this stanza :

The headstrong: man who, when exhorted, pays
No heed to friends who kindly counsel give,
Shall surely perish, like the greedy crow,
Who laughed to scorn the pigeon's warning words.

Then, exclaiming " I too can no longer dwell here," the
Bodhisatta flew away. But the crow died there and then,
and the cook flung him, basket and all, on the dust-heap.