The Woodpecker, Tortoise, and Antelope

Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of
Benares, the Bodhisatta became an Antelope, and lived
within a forest, in a thicket near a certain lake. Not far
from the same lake, sat a Woodpecker perched at the top
of a tree; and in the lake dwelt a Tortoise. And the
three became friends, and lived together in amity.

A hunter, wandering about in the wood, observed the
Bodhisatta's footprint at the going down into the water;
and he set a trap of leather, strong, like an iron chain,
and went his way. In the first watch of the night the
Bodhisatta went down to drink, and got caught in the
noose: whereat he cried the cry of capture. Thereupon the
Woodpecker flew down from her tree- top, and the Tortoise
came out of the water, and consulted what was to be done.

Said the Woodpecker to the Tortoise, " Friend, you
have teeth bite this snare through ; I will go and see to
it that the hunter keeps away; and if we both do our best,
our friend will not lose his life." To make this clear he
uttered the first stanza :

Come, Tortoise, tear the leathern suare, and bite it through and through,
And of the hunter I'll take care, and keep him off from you.

The Tortoise began to gnaw the leather thong: the
Woodpecker made his way to the hunter's dwelling. At
dawn of day the hunter went out, knife in hand. As soon
as the bird saw him start, he uttered a cry, napped his
wings, and struck him in the face as he left the front door.
"Some bird of ill omen has struck me!" thought the
hunter; he turned back, and lay down for a little while.
Then he rose up again, and took his knife. The bird
reasoned within himself, "The first time he went out by
the front door, so now he will leave by the back " : and he
sat him down behind the house. The hunter, too, reasoned
in the same way: "When I went out by the front door, I
saw a bad omen, now will I go out by the back!" and so
he did. But the bird cried out again, and struck him in
the face. Finding that he was again struck by a bird of
ill omen, the hunter exclaimed, "This creature will not
let me go!" and turning back he lay down until sunrise,
and when the sun was risen, he took his knife and started.

The Woodpecker made all haste back to his friends.
"Here comes the hunter!" he cried. By this time the
Tortoise had gnawed through all the thongs but one tough
thong: his teeth seemed as though they would fall out,
and his mouth was all smeared with blood. The Bodhi-
satta saw the young hunter coming on like lightning, knife
in hand ; he burst the thong, and fled into the woods. The
Woodpecker perched upon his tree-top. But the Tortoise
was so weak, that he lay where he was. The hunter threw
him into a bag, and tied it to a tree.

The Bodhisatta observed that the Tortoise was taken,
and determined to save his friend's life. So he let the
hunter see him, and made as though he were weak. The
hunter saw him, and thinking him to be weak, seized his
knife and set out in pursuit. The Bodhisatta, keeping just
out of his reach, led him into the forest; and when he saw
that they had come far away, gave him the slip and re-
turned swift as the wind by another way. He lifted the
bag with his horns, threw it upon the ground, ripped it
open and let the Tortoise out. And the Woodpecker
came down from the tree.

Then the Bodhisatta thus addressed them both: "My
life has been saved by you, and you have done a friend's
part to me. Now the hunter will come and take you ; so
do you, friend Woodpecker, migrate elsewhere with your
brood, and you, friend Tortoise, dive into the water."
They did so.

The Master, as the All-enlightened One, uttered the
second stanza:

The Tortoise went into the pond, the Deer into the wood,
And from the tree the Woodpecker carried away his brood.

The hunter returned, and saw none of them. He
found his bag torn ; picked it up, and went home sorrow-
ful. And the three friends lived all their life long in
unbroken amity, and then passed away to fare according
to their deeds.