The Altruism

The Language of Animals

Bulgaria

A certain man had a shepherd, who served him faithfully and honestly for many years. This shepherd, when he was once upon a time following the sheep, heard a whistling on the hill, and, not knowing what it was, went off to see. When he got to the place, there was a conflagration, and in the middle of it a serpent was squeaking. When he saw this, he waited to see how the serpent would act, for all around it was burning, and the fire had almost come close to it.

When the serpent saw him, it screamed, "Dear shepherd, do a good action; take me out of this fire."

The shepherd took pity on its words, and reached it his crook, and it crawled out upon it. When it had crawled out, it coiled itself round his neck. When the shepherd saw this, he was frightened, and said, "Indeed you are a wretch! Is that the way you are going to thank me for rescuing you? So runs the proverb: 'Do good, and find evil.'"

The serpent answered him, "Don't fear. I shall do you no harm. Only carry me to my father; my father is the emperor of the serpents."

The shepherd begged pardon, and excused himself, "I can't carry you to your father, because I have no one to leave in charge of my sheep."

The serpent said to him, "Don't fear for your sheep; nothing will happen to them. Only carry me to my father, and go quickly."

Then there was no help for it, so he started with it over the hill. When he came to a door, which was formed of nothing but serpents intertwined, and went up to it, the serpent which was coiled round his neck gave a whistle, and the serpents, which had twined themselves into the form of a door, immediately untwined, and made way for them to enter.

As the shepherd and the serpent entered the palace, the serpent called to the shepherd, "Stop! Let me tell you something: when you come into my father's palace, he will promise you what you desire, silver and gold; but don't you accept anything, only ask him to give you such a tongue that you will be able to understand all animals. He will not give you this readily, but at last grant it you he will."

The shepherd went with it into its father's palace, and its father, on seeing it, shed tears, and asked it, "Hey, my son, where have you been till now?"

It replied, and told him everything in order: what had taken place, and how it had taken place, and how the shepherd had rescued it.

Then the emperor of the serpents turned to the shepherd, and said to him, "Come, my son, what do you wish me to give you in recompense for rescuing my child?"

The shepherd replied to him, "Nothing else, only give me such a tongue that I can understand all animals."

The emperor of the serpents said to him, "That is not a proper gift for you, my son, because, if I give you anything of the kind, you will betray yourself in somebody's presence by boasting of it, and then you will die immediately. Ask something else."

The shepherd replied to him, "I wish for nothing else. If you will give it me, give it; if not, farewell!"

He turned to go; but the emperor of the serpents cried out, "Stay! Return! If you ask this, come, that I may give it you. Open your mouth."

The shepherd opened his mouth, and the emperor of the serpents spat into it, and told him to spit also into his mouth. And thus they spat thrice into each other's mouths.

When this was done, the emperor of the serpents said to the shepherd, "Now you have the tongue which you desired. Go, and farewell! But it is not permitted you to tell anybody, because, if you do, you will die. I am telling you the truth."

The shepherd then departed. As he went over the hill, he understood the conversation of the birds, and, so to speak, of everything in the world. When he came to his sheep, he found them correct in number, and sat down to rest.

But scarcely had he lain down, when two crows flew up, perched on a tree hard by him, and began to converse in their language, "If that shepherd knew that just where that black lamb lies a vault full of silver and gold is buried in the ground, he would take its contents."

When he heard this, he went and told his master, and he brought a cart, and they broke open the door of the vault, and took out its valuable contents.

His master was a righteous man, and said to him, "Well, my son, this is all yours; the Lord has given it you. Go, provide a house, get married, and live comfortably."

The shepherd took the property, went away, provided a house, got married, and lived very comfortably. This shepherd, after a little time, became so rich and prosperous that there was nobody richer than he in his own or the neighboring villages. He had shepherds, cowherds, swineherds, grooms, and everything on a handsome scale.

Once upon a time this shepherd ordered his wife on New Year's Eve to provide wine, brandy, and everything requisite, and to go the next morning to his cattle, to take the provisions to the herdsmen, that they, too, might enjoy themselves. His wife obeyed him, and did as her husband ordered her.

The next day they got up, got ready, and went. When they arrived where the cattle were, the master said to his shepherds, "Lads, assemble together, and sit down to eat and drink your fill, and I will watch the cattle tonight."

This was done; they assembled together, and he went out to sleep by the cattle. In the course of the night, after some time, the wolves began to howl and speak in their language, and the dogs to bark and speak in theirs.

The wolves said, "Can we capture any young cattle?"

The dogs answered in their language, "Come in, that we, too, may eat our fill of flesh."

But among the dogs there was one old dog, who had only two teeth left. This dog spoke and answered the wolves, "In faith, as long as these two teeth of mine last, you shan't come near to do harm to my master."

In the morning, when it dawned, the master called the herdsmen, and told them to kill all the dogs except that old one.

His servants began to implore him, "Don't, master! Why? It's a sin."

But he said to them, "Do just as I ordered you, and not otherwise."

Then he and his wife mounted their horses and went off. His wife rode a mare, and he a horse. As they went, the master's horse outstripped the wife's mare, and began to say to her in their language, "Go quicker. Why do you hang back?"

The mare's reply in defense of her lagging pace was so amusing that the man laughed out loud, turned his head, and looked behind him with a smile. His wife observed him smiling, whipped her mare to catch him up, and then asked him to tell her why he smiled.

He said to her, "Well, suppose I did? Something came into my head."

This answer did not satisfy her, but she began to worry him to tell her why he smiled. He said this and that to her to get out of it, but the more he said to get out of it, the more did she worry him. At length he said to her that, if he told her, he would die immediately. But she had no dread of her husband's dying, and went on worrying him: "There is no alternative, but tell me you must."

When they got home, they dismounted from their horses, and as soon as they had done so, her husband ordered a grave to be dug for him. It was dug, and he lay down in it, and said to his wife, "Did you not press me to tell you why I smiled? Come now, that I may tell you; but I shall die immediately."

On saying this, he gave one more look round him, and observed that the old dog had come from the cattle. Seeing this, he told his wife to give him a piece of bread. She gave it him, but the dog would not even look at it, but shed tears and wept. But the cock, seeing it, ran up and began to peck it.

The dog was angry, and said, "As if you'd die hungry! Don't you see that our master is going to die?"

"What a fool he is! Let him die! Whose fault is it? I have a hundred wives. When I find a grain of millet, I call them all to me, and finally eat it myself. If one of them gets cross at this, I give her one or two pecks, and she lowers her tail. But this man isn't equal to keeping one in order."

When the man heard the cock say this, he jumped up at once out of the grave, seized a stick, chased his wife over hill and dale, and at last settled her completely, so that it never entered her head any more to ask him why he smiled.

SpitzTunes Without a Cause

The King Who Learnt the Speech of Animals

Sri Lanka

In a certain country a king was rearing wild animals. The king had learnt in a thorough manner the speech of animals.

One day at that time the fowls were saying, "Our king assists us very much; he gives us food and drink." They thanked the king very much. The king having heard their talk, the king laughed with pleasure.

The royal queen having been near, asked, "What did you laugh at?"

"I merely (nikan) laughed," the king said. Should he explain and give the talk to any person the king will die. Because of it he did not explain and give it. That the king knows the speech of animals he does not inform anyone.

The royal queen says, "There is no one who laughs in that way without a reason. Should you not say the reason I am going away, or having jumped into a well I shall die."

Thereupon the king, because he was unable to be released from [the importunity of] the queen, thought, "Even if I am to die I must explain and give this."

Thinking thus, he went to give food to the animals. Then it was evident to those animals that this king is going to die. Out of the party of animals first a cock says, "His majesty our king is going to be lost. We don't want the food. We shall not receive assistance. Unless his majesty the king perish thus we shall not perish. In submission to me there are many hens. When I have called them the hens come. When I have told them to eat they eat. When I have told them to go they go. The king, having become submissive in that manner to the thing that his wife has said, is going to die."

The king having heard it, laughed at it also.

Then, also, the royal queen asked, "What did you laugh at?"

Thereupon, not saying the [true] word, the king said, "Thinking of constructing a tank, I laughed."

Then the queen said, "Having caused the animals that are in this Lankawa (Ceylon) to be brought, let us build a tank."

Then the king having said, "It is good," caused the animals to be brought. The king having gone with the animals, showed them a place [in which] to build a tank; and telling them to build it came away.

The animals, at the king's command being unable to do anything, all together began to struggle on the mound of earth. Those which can take earth in the mouth take it in the mouth. All work in this manner. The jackal, not doing work, having bounded away remained looking on.

After three or four days, the king having gone [there] trickishly stayed looking on. The king saw that the other animals are all moving about as though working. The jackal, only, having bounded off is looking on.

Having seen it he asked the jackal, "The others are all working. Thou, only, art looking upward. Why?"

Thereupon the jackal said, "No, O lord, I looked into an account."

Then the king asked, "What account art thou looking at?"

The jackal says, "I looked whether in this country the female3s are in excess or the males are in excess."

The king asked, "By the account which thou knowest, are the females in excess or the males in excess?"

The jackal said, "So far as I can perceive, the females are in excess in this country."

Then the king said that men are in excess. Having said it the king said, "I myself having gone home and looked at the books, if males are in excess I shall give thee a good punishment."

The king having come home and looked at the books, it appeared that the males were in excess. Thereupon the king called the jackal, and said, "Bola, males are in excess."

Then the jackal says, "No, O lord, your majesty, they are not as many as the females. Having also put down to the female account the males who hearken to the things that females say, after they counted them the females would be in excess."

Then the jackal said, "Are the animals able to build tanks? How shall they carry the earth?"

Thereupon the king having considered it, and having said, "Wild animals, wild animals, you are to go to the midst of the forest," came home.

At that time, the queen asked, "Is the tank built and finished?"

Then the king, taking a cane, began to beat the queen. Thereupon the queen, having said, "Ané! O lord, your majesty, I will never again say anything, or even ask anything," began to cry aloud.

The king got to know that the jackal was a wise animal.

Western Province.

The Language of Animals

from The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births

Once upon a time when a king named Senaka was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was Sakka. The king Senaka was friendly with a certain naga king. This naga king, they say, left the naga world and ranged the earth seeking food. The village boys seeing him said, "This is a snake," and struck him with clods and other things.

The king, going to amuse himself in his garden, saw them, and being told they were beating a snake, said, "Don't let them beat him. Drive them away." And this was done.

So the naga king got his life, and when he went back to the naga world. He took many jewels, and coming at midnight to the king's bedchamber he gave them to him, saying, "I got my life through you." So he made friendship with the king and came again and again to see him. He appointed one of his naga girls, insatiate in pleasures, to be near the king and protect him, and he gave the king a charm, saying, "If ever you do not see her, repeat this charm."

One day the king went to the garden with the naga girl and was amusing himself in the lotus tank. The naga girl seeing a water snake quitted her human shape and made love with him. The king not seeing the girl said, "Where is she gone?" and repeated the spell. Then he saw her in her misconduct and struck her with a piece of bamboo.

She went in anger to the naga world, and when she was asked, "Why are you come?" she said, "Your friend struck me on the back because I did not do his bidding," showing the mark of the blow.

The naga king, not knowing the truth, called four naga youths and sent them with orders to enter Senaka's bedchamber and destroy him like chaff by the breath of their nostrils. They entered the chamber at the royal bedtime.

As they came in, the king was saying to the queen, "Lady, do you know where the naga girl has gone?"

"King, I do not."

"Today when we were bathing in the tank, she quitted her shape and misconducted herself with a water snake. I said, 'Don't do that,' and struck her with a piece of bamboo to give her a lesson. And now I fear she may have gone to the naga world and told some lie to my friend, destroying his goodwill to me."

The young nagas hearing this turned back at once to the naga world and told their king. He being moved went instantly to the king's chamber, told him all and was forgiven. Then he said, "In this way I make amends," and gave the king a charm giving knowledge of all sounds. "This, O king, is a priceless spell. If you give anyone this spell you will at once enter the fire and die."

The king said, "It is well," and accepted it. From that time he understood the voice even of ants.

One day he was sitting on the dais eating solid food with honey and molasses, and a drop of honey, a drop of molasses, and a morsel of cake fell on the ground. An ant seeing this comes crying, "The king's honey jar is broken on the dais, his molasses cart and cake cart are upset. Come and eat honey and molasses and cake."

The king hearing the cry laughed. The queen being near him thought, "What has the king seen that he laughs?"

When the king had eaten his solid food and bathed and sat down cross-legged, a fly said to his wife, "Come, lady, let us enjoy love."

She said, "Excuse me for a little, husband. They will soon be bringing perfumes to the king. As he perfumes himself some powder will fall at his feet. I will stay there and become fragrant, then we will enjoy ourselves lying on the king's back."

The king hearing the voice laughed again. The queen thought again, "What has he seen that he laughs?"

Again when the king was eating his supper, a lump of rice fell on the ground. The ants cried, "A wagon of rice has broken in the king's palace, and there is none to eat it."

The king hearing this laughed again. The queen took a golden spoon and helping him reflected, "Is it at the sight of me that the king laughs?"

She went to the bedchamber with the king and at bedtime she asked, "Why did you laugh, O king?"

He said, "What have you to do with why I laugh?" But being asked again and again her told her.

Then she said, "Give me your spell of knowledge."

He said, "It cannot be given." But though repulsed she pressed him again.

The king said, "If I give you this spell, I shall die."

"Even though you die, give it me."

The king, being in the power of womankind, saying, "It is well," consented and went to the park in a chariot, saying, "I shall enter the fire after giving away this spell."

At that moment Sakka, king of gods, looked down on the earth and seeing this case said, "This foolish king, knowing that he will enter the fire through womankind, is on the way; I will give him his life." So he took Suja, daughter of the Asuras, and went to Benares. He became a he-goat and made her a she-goat, and resolving that the people should not see them, he stood before the king's chariot. The king and the Sindh asses yoked in the chariot saw him, but none else saw him. For the sake of starting talk he was as if making love with the she-goat.

One of the Sindh asses yoked in the chariot seeing him said, "Friend goat, we have heard before, but not seen, that goats are stupid and shameless. But you are doing, with all of us looking on, this thing that should be done in secret and in a private place, and are not ashamed. What we have heard before agrees with this that we see."

And so he spoke the first stanza:

"Goats are stupid," says the wise man, and the words are surely true:
This one knows not he's parading what in secret he should do.

The goat hearing him spoke two stanzas:

O, sir donkey, think and realize your own stupidity,
You're tied with ropes, your jaw is wrenched, and very downcast is your eye.

When you're loosed, you don't escape, sir, that's a stupid habit too:
And that Senaka you carry, he's more stupid still than you.

The king understood the talk of both animals, and hearing it he quickly sent away the chariot. The ass hearing the goat's talk spoke the fourth stanza:

Well. sir king of goats, you fully know my great stupidity:
But how Senaka is stupid, prithee do explain to me.

The goat explaining this spoke the fifth stanza:

He who his own special treasure on his wife will throw away,
Cannot keep her faithful ever and his life he must betray.

The king hearing his words said, "King of goats, you will surely act for my advantage. Tell me now what is right for me to do."

Then the goat said, "King, to all animals no one is dearer than self. It is not good to destroy oneself and abandon the honor one has gained for the sake of anything that is dear." So he spoke the sixth stanza:

A king, like thee, may have conceived desire
And yet renounced it if his life's the cost.
Life is the chief thing. What can man seek higher?
If life's secured, desires need ne'er be crossed.

So the Bodhisatta exhorted the king. The king, delighted, asked, "King of goats, whence come you?"

"I am Sakka, O king, come to save you from death out of pity for you."

"King of gods, I promised to give her the charm. What am I to do now?"

"There is no need for the ruin of both of you. You say, 'It is the way of the craft,' and have her beaten with some blows. By this means she will not get it."

The king said, "It is well," and agreed. The Bodhisatta after exhortation to the king went to Sakka's heaven. The king went to the garden, had the queen summoned and then said, "Lady, will you have the charm?"

"Yes, lord."

"Then go through the usual custom."

"What custom?"

"A hundred stripes on the back, but you must not make a sound."

She consented through greed for the charm. The king made his slaves take whips and beat her on both sides. She endured two or three stripes and then cried, "I don't want the charm."

The king said, "You would have killed me to get the charm," and so flogging the skin off her back he sent her away. After that she could not bear to talk of it again.

Sulasa and Sattuka

Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, there was a beautiful woman of the town, called Sulasa, whose price was a thousand pieces a night. There was in the same city a robber named Sattuka, as strong as an elephant, who used to enter rich men's houses at night and plunder at will. One day he was captured. Sulasa was standing at her window when the soldiers led Sattuka, his hands bound behind his back, down the street toward the place of execution.

She fell in love with him on sight, and said, "If I can free that stout fighting man, I will give up this bad life of mine and live respectably with him." She sent a thousand pieces to the chief constable, and thus gained his freedom. They lived together in delight and harmony for some time, but after three or four months, the robber thought, "I shall never be able to stay in this one place. But one can't go empty handed. Her ornaments are worth a hundred thousand pieces. I will kill her and take them."

So he said to her one day, "Dear, when I was being hauled along by the king's men, I promised an offering to a tree deity on a mountain top, who is now threatening me because I have not paid it. Let us make an offering."

She consented to accompany her husband to the mountain top to make the offering. She should, he said, to honor the deity, wear all of her ornaments.

When they arrived at the mountain top, he revealed his true purpose: "I have not come to present the offering. I have come with the intention of killing you and going away with all your ornaments. Take them all off and make a bundle of them in your outer garment."

"Husband, why would you kill me?"

"For your money."

"Husband, remember the good I have done you. When you were being hauled along in chains, I paid a large sum and saved your life. Though I might get a thousand pieces a day, I never look at another man. Such a benefactress I am to you. Do not kill me. I will give you much money and be your slave."

But instead of accepting her entreaties, he continued his preparations to kill her.

"At least let me salute you," she said. "I am going to make obeisance to you on all four sides." Kneeling in front of him, she put her head to his foot, repeated the act at his left side, then at his right side, then from behind. Once behind him, she took hold of him, and with the strength of an elephant threw him over a cliff a hundred times as high as a man. He was crushed to pieces and died on the spot. Seeing this deed, the deity who lived on the mountain top spoke this stanza:

Wisdom at times is not confined to men;
A woman can show wisdom now and then.

So Sulasa killed the robber. When she descended from the mountain and returned to her attendants, they asked where her husband was. "Don't ask me," she said, and mounting her chariot she went on to the city.

The Monkey's Heart

Once upon a time, while Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came to life at the foot of the Himalayas as a monkey. He grew strong and sturdy, big of frame, well to do, and lived by a curve of the river Ganges in a forest haunt. Now at that time there was a crocodile dwelling in the Ganges. The crocodile's mate saw the great frame of the monkey, and she conceived a longing to eat his heart. So she said to her lord, "Sir, I desire to eat the heart of that great king of the monkeys!"

"Good wife," said the crocodile, "I live in the water and he lives on dry land. How can we catch him?"

"By hook or by crook," she replied, "he must be caught. If I don't get him, I shall die."

"All right," answered the crocodile, consoling her, "don't trouble yourself. I have a plan. I will give you his heart to eat."

So when the Bodhisatta was sitting on the bank of the Ganges, after taking a drink of water, the crocodile drew near, and said, "Sir Monkey, why do you live on bad fruits in this old familiar place? On the other side of the Ganges there is no end to the mango trees, and labuja trees, with fruit sweet as honey! Is it not better to cross over and have all kinds of wild fruit to eat?"

"Lord Crocodile," the monkey answered. "The Ganges is deep and wide. How shall I get across?"

"If you want to go, I will let you sit upon my back, and carry you over."

The monkey trusted him, and agreed. "Come here, then," said the crocodile. "Up on my back with you!" and up the monkey climbed. But when the crocodile had swum a little way, he plunged the monkey under the water.

"Good friend, you are letting me sink!" cried the monkey. "What is that for?"

The crocodile said, "You think I am carrying you out of pure good nature? Not a bit of it! My wife has a longing for your heart, and I want to give it to her to eat.!"

"Friend," said the monkey, "it is nice of you to tell me. Why, if our heart were inside us, when we go jumping among the tree tops it would be all knocked to pieces!"

"Well, where do you keep it?" asked the crocodile.

The Bodhisatta pointed out a fig tree, with clusters of ripe fruit, standing not far off. "See," said he, "there are our hearts hanging on yonder fig tree."

"If you will show me your heart," said the crocodile, "then I won't kill you."

"Take me to the tree, then, and I will point it out to you."

The crocodile brought him to the place. The monkey leapt off his back, and, climbing up the fig tree, sat upon it. "Oh silly crocodile!" said he. "You thought that there were creatures that kept their hearts in a treetop! You are a fool, and I have outwitted you! You may keep your fruit to yourself. Your body is great, but you have no sense."

And then to explain this idea he uttered the following stanzas:

Rose-apple, jack-fruit, mangoes, too, across the water there I see;
Enough of them, I want them not; my fig is good enough for me!
Great is your body, verily, but how much smaller is your wit!
Now go your ways, Sir Crocodile, for I have had the best of it.

The crocodile, feeling as sad and miserable as if he had lost a thousand pieces of money, went back sorrowing to the place where he lived.

The Mosquito and the Carpenter

Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta gained his livelihood as a trader. In these days in a border village in Kasi there dwelt a number of carpenters. And it chanced that one of them, a bald gray-haired man, was planing away at some wood with his head glistening like a copper bowl, when a mosquito settled on his scalp and stung him with its dart like sting.

Said the carpenter to his son, who was seated hard by, "My boy, there's a mosquito stinging me on the head. Do drive it away."

"Hold still then father," said the son. "One blow will settle it."

(At that very time the Bodhisatta had reached that village in the way of trade, and was sitting in the carpenter's shop.)

"Rid me of it!" cried the father.

"All right, father," answered the son, who was behind the old man's back, and, raising a sharp ax on high with intent to kill only the mosquito, he cleft his father's head in two. So the old man fell dead on the spot.

Thought the Bodhisatta, who had been an eye witness of the whole scene, "Better than such a friend is an enemy with sense, whom fear of men's vengeance will deter from killing a man." And he recited these lines:

Sense-lacking friends are worse than foes with sense;
Witness the son that sought the gnat to slay,
But cleft, poor fool, his father's skull in two.

So saying, the Bodhisatta rose up and departed, passing away in after days to fare according to his deserts. And as for the carpenter, his body was burned by his kinsfolk.

The White Butterfly

An old man named Takahama lived in a little house behind the cemetery of the temple of Sozanji. He was extremely amiable and generally liked by his neighbors, though most of them considered him to be a little mad. His madness, it would appear, entirely rested upon the fact that he had never married or evinced desire for intimate companionship with women.

One summer day he became very ill, so ill, in fact, that he sent for his sister-in-law and her son. They both came and did all they could to bring comfort during his last hours. While they watched, Takahama fell asleep; but he had no sooner done so than a large white butterfly flew into the room and rested on the old man's pillow. The young man tried to drive it away with a fan; but it came back three times, as if loath to leave the sufferer.

At last Takahama's nephew chased it out into the garden, through the gate, and into the cemetery beyond, where it lingered over a woman's tomb, and then mysteriously disappeared. On examining the tomb the young man found the name "Akiko" written upon it, together with a description narrating how Akiko died when she was eighteen. Though the tomb was covered with moss and must have been erected fifty years previously, the boy saw that it was surrounded with flowers, and that the little water tank had been recently filled.

When the young man returned to the house he found that Takahama had passed away, and he returned to his mother and told her what he had seen in the cemetery.

"Akiko?" murmured his mother. "When your uncle was young he was betrothed to Akiko. She died of consumption shortly before her wedding day. When Akiko left this world your uncle resolved never to marry, and to live ever near her grave. For all these years he has remained faithful to his vow, and kept in his heart all the sweet memories of his one and only love. Every day Takahama went to the cemetery, whether the air was fragrant with summer breeze or thick with falling snow. Every day he went to her grave and prayed for her happiness, swept the tomb and set flowers there. When Takahama was dying, and he could no longer perform his loving task, Akiko came for him. That white butterfly was her sweet and loving soul."

Danzayémon, Chief of the Etas

At Asakusa, in Yedo, there lives a man called Danzayémon, the chief of the Etas. This man traces his pedigree back to Minamoto no Yoritomo, who founded the Shogunate in the year 1192 A.D. The whole of the Etas in Japan are under his jurisdiction; his subordinates are called Koyagashira, or "chiefs of the huts"; and they constitute the government of the Etas. In the "Legacy of Iyéyasu," the 36th Law provides as follows:

All wandering mendicants, such as male sorcerers, female diviners, hermits, blind people, beggars, and tanners (Etas), have had from of old their respective rulers. Be not disinclined, however, to punish any such who give rise to disputes, or who overstep the boundaries of their own classes and are disobedient to existing laws.

The occupation of the Etas is to kill and flay horses, oxen, and other beasts, to stretch drums and make shoes; and if they are very poor, they wander from house to house, working as cobblers, mending old shoes and leather, and so earn a scanty livelihood. Besides this, their daughters and young married women gain a trifle as wandering minstrels, called Torioi, playing on the shamisen, a sort of banjo, and singing ballads. They never marry out of their own fraternity, but remain apart, a despised and shunned race.

At execution by crucifixion it is the duty of the Etas to transfix the victims with spears; and, besides this, they have to perform all sorts of degrading offices about criminals, such as carrying sick prisoners from their cells to the hall of justice, and burying the bodies of those that have been executed. Thus their race is polluted and accursed, and they are hated accordingly.

Now this is how the Etas come to be under the jurisdiction of Danzayémon:

When Minamoto no Yoritomo was yet a child, his father, Minamoto no Yoshitomo, fought with Taira no Kiyomori, and was killed by treachery: so his family was ruined; and Yoshitomo's concubine, whose name was Tokiwa, took her children and fled from the house, to save her own and their lives. But Kiyomori, desiring to destroy the family of Yoshitomo root and branch, ordered his retainers to divide themselves into bands, and seek out the children. At last they were found; but Tokiwa was so exceedingly beautiful that Kiyomori was inflamed with love for her, and desired her to become his own concubine. Then Tokiwa told Kiyomori that if he would spare her little ones she would share his couch; but that if he killed her children she would destroy herself rather than yield to his desire. When he heard this, Kiyomori, bewildered by the beauty of Tokiwa, spared the lives of her children, but banished them from the capital.

So Yoritomo was sent to Hirugakojima, in the province of Idzu; and when he grew up and became a man, he married the daughter of a peasant. After a while Yoritomo left the province, and went to the wars, leaving his wife pregnant; and in due time she was delivered of a male child, to the delight of her parents, who rejoiced that their daughter should bear seed to a nobleman; but she soon fell sick and died, and the old people took charge of the babe. And when they also died, the care of the child fell to his mother's kinsmen, and he grew up to be a peasant.

Now Kiyomori, the enemy of Yoritomo, had been gathered to his fathers; and Yoritomo had avenged the death of his father by slaying Munémori, the son of Kiyomori; and there was peace throughout the land. And Yoritomo became the chief of all the noble houses in Japan, and first established the government of the country. When Yoritomo had thus raised himself to power, if the son that his peasant wife had born to him had proclaimed himself the sons of the mighty prince, he would have been made lord over a province; but he took no thought of this, and remained a tiller of the earth, forfeiting a glorious inheritance; and his descendants after him lived as peasants in the same village, increasing in prosperity and in good repute among their neighbors.

But the princely line of Yoritomo came to an end in three generations, and the house of Hojo was all-powerful in the land.

Now it happened that the head of the house of Hojo heard that a descendant of Yoritomo was living as a peasant in the land, so he summoned him and said: "It is a hard thing to see the son of an illustrious house live and die a peasant. I will promote you to the rank of Samurai."

Then the peasant answered: "My lord, if I become a Samurai, and the retainer of some noble, I shall not be so happy as when I was my own master. If I may not remain a husbandman, let me be a chief over men, however humble they may be."

But my lord Hojo was angry at this, and thinking to punish the peasant for his insolence, said: "Since you wish to become a chief over men, no matter how humble, there is no means of gratifying your strange wish but by making you chief over the Etas of the whole country. So now see that you rule them well."

When he heard this, the peasant was afraid; but because he had said that he wished to become a chief over men, however humble, he could not choose but become chief of the Etas, he and his children after him for ever; and Danzayémon, who rules the Etas at the present time, and lives at Asakusa, is his lineal descendant.

Visu the Woodsman and the Old Priest

Many years ago there lived on the then barren plain of Suruga a woodsman by the name of Visu. He was a giant in stature, and lived in a hut with his wife and children.

One day Visu received a visit from an old priest, who said to him: "Honorable woodsman, I am afraid you never pray."

Visu replied: "If you had a wife and a large family to keep, you would never have time to pray."

This remark made the priest angry, and the old man gave the woodcutter a vivid description of the horror of being reborn as a toad, or a mouse, or an insect for millions of years. Such lurid details were not to Visu's liking, and he accordingly promised the priest that in future he would pray.

"Work and pray," said the priest as he took his departure.

Unfortunately Visu did nothing but pray. He prayed all day long and refused to do any work, so that his rice crops withered and his wife and family starved. Visu's wife, who had hitherto never said a harsh or bitter word to her husband, now became extremely angry, and, pointing to the poor thin bodies of her children, she exclaimed: "Rise, Visu, take up your ax and do something more helpful to us all than the mere mumbling of prayers!"

Visu was so utterly amazed at what his wife had said that it was some time before he could think of a fitting reply. When he did so his words came hot and strong to the ears of his poor, much-wronged wife.

"Woman," said he, "the Gods come first. You are an impertinent creature to speak to me so, and I will have nothing more to do with you!" Visu snatched up his ax and, without looking round to say farewell, he left the hut, strode out of the wood, and climbed up Fujiyama, where a mist hid him from sight.

When Visu had seated himself upon the mountain he heard a soft rustling sound, and immediately afterward saw a fox dart into a thicket. Now Visu deemed it extremely lucky to see a fox, and, forgetting his prayers, he sprang up, and ran hither and thither in the hope of again finding this sharp-nosed little creature.

He was about to give up the chase when, coming to an open space in a wood, he saw two ladies sitting down by a brook playing go. The woodsman was so completely fascinated that he could do nothing but sit down and watch them. There was no sound except the soft click of pieces on the board and the song of the running brook. The ladies took no notice of Visu, for they seemed to be playing a strange game that had no end, a game that entirely absorbed their attention. Visu could not keep his eyes off these fair women. He watched their long black hair and the little quick hands that shot out now and again from their big silk sleeves in order to move the pieces.

After he had been sitting there for three hundred years, though to him it was but a summer's afternoon, he saw that one of the players had made a false move. "Wrong, most lovely lady!" he exclaimed excitedly. In a moment these women turned into foxes and ran away.

When Visu attempted to pursue them he found to his horror that his limbs were terribly stiff, that his hair was very long, and that his beard touched the ground. He discovered, moreover, that the handle of his ax, though made of the hardest wood, had crumbled away into a little heap of dust.

After many painful efforts Visu was able to stand on his feet and proceed very slowly toward his little home. When he reached the spot he was surprised to see no hut, and, perceiving a very old woman, he said: "Good lady, I am amazed to find that my little home has disappeared. I went away this afternoon, and now in the evening it has vanished!"

The old woman, who believed that a madman was addressing her, inquired his name. When she was told, she exclaimed: "Bah! You must indeed be mad! Visu lived three hundred years ago! He went away one day, and he never came back again."

"Three hundred years!" murmured Visu. "It cannot be possible. Where are my dear wife and children?"

"Buried!" hissed the old woman, "and, if what you say is true, you children's children too. The Gods have prolonged your miserable life in punishment for having neglected your wife and little children."

Big tears ran down Visu's withered cheeks as he said in a husky voice: "I have lost my manhood. I have prayed when my dear ones starved and needed the labor of my once strong hands. Old woman, remember my last words: "If you pray, work too!"

We do not know how long the poor but repentant Visu lived after he returned from his strange adventures. His white spirit is still said to haunt Fujiyama when the moon shines brightly.

The Jackal and the Farmer

North Africa (Kabyl)

A farmer plowed with two oxen from morning till eve. One evening a lion came and said, "Give me one of your two oxen or I'll kill you and both of them."

The farmer was terrified. He unspanned one of the oxen and gave it to the lion. The lion took it and carried it away. The farmer went home with the remaining ox and bought another one the same evening so that he would be able to plow again in the morning.

The next day the farmer plowed again from morning till eve, and when it was evening the lion came again and said, "Farmer, give me one of your two oxen or I'll kill both of them and you into the bargain."

Again the farmer gave him an ox. That evening he bought another ox so as to be able to plow again the next day. The next evening the lion came again and demanded still another ox. The farmer gave the lion an ox every evening. One evening the jackal came by as the farmer was driving his single ox home.

The jackal said, "Every morning I see you leave the farmyard with two oxen and every evening I see you coming back with only one. How does that happen?"

The farmer answered, "Every evening when I am finished with the day's work the lion comes and demands one of my oxen and threatens to kill me and both oxen if I do not comply with his wish."

The jackal said, "If you promise to give me a sheep I will free you from the lion."

The farmer answered, "If you can free me from the lion I will gladly promise you a sheep."

The jackal said, "Tomorrow I will call out in a disguised voice from up there on the hill and ask who is speaking with you. Then answer that it is only an Asko (a block of wood to be split). Have a hatchet ready. Have you understood me?"

The farmer said, "Certainly, I have understood you."

The next day the farmer took a hatchet with him to the field and plowed as usual with the two oxen from morning till eve.

When it was evening the lion came and said, "Farmer, give me an ox or I shall kill both oxen and you as well."

When the lion had said that a deep voice spoke from the hill and said, "Farmer, who speaks with you?"

The lion was afraid, ducked down, and said in a frightened voice, "That is god."

But the farmer replied loudly, "It is only an Asko."

The voice answered loudly, "Then take your hatchet and split the block of wood."

The lion said softly, "But give me only a gentle blow, farmer."

Thereat he bowed his head. The farmer gripped his hatchet and struck at the lion's lowered skull with all his force so that he split it and the lion died.

The jackal came down from the hill and said, "I have done what I promised. The lion is done away with. Tomorrow I will come again and get the sheep which you have promised me."

The farmer said, "You shall have it."

The farmer came home. He said to his wife, "The jackal has freed me from the lion. Now I will give him a ram. I will kill it. Then you pack it up so that I can take it with me to the field tomorrow."

The man killed the ram. As his wife was about to pack it up she said, "Why shouldn't we eat the good ram ourselves?" She put the ram into a leather sack. She laid the leather sack in a wicker basket. But she told the house dog to lie down in the basket beside the leather sack. She said to the farmer, "If, perchance, the jackal does not take the ram in the course of the day, then bring it home again. Otherwise the other animals which have not helped you will eat it during the night. Set down the basket in the field just as it is and then let happen what will."

The farmer went to the field. He put the basket down on the field and cried, "Jackal here is your ram."

Then he went to his work without bothering himself further about the basket, the ram, or the jackal. The jackal, however, came to the basket in order to take out the ram. As he stuck his nose into the basket, up sprang the dog. The jackal ran away from there as quickly as he could. The dog ran after him for a while but when he saw that the jackal was really too fast he gave up and went home. The jackal swore never to help men again.

In the evening the farmer came. He looked into the basket and found the ram still untouched. So he picked up the basket again with the ram in it, brought it home, and said, "The jackal has not called for his ram. Now we can eat it ourselves!"

Ingratitude Is the World's Reward

Moravia

A peasant in his field once heard a voice calling, "Help me! Help me!" He looked around but saw no one. Finally he discovered that the voice was coming from below, from beneath a large stone. Rolling it onto its side he saw a hole where there was a large snake. It slithered out and was about to tear the peasant to pieces.

"What!" said the peasant. "My reward for having freed you from your prison is be torn to pieces?"

"Didn't you know," replied the snake, "that ingratitude is the world's reward?"

"I do not believe that," said the peasant. "Come, let us go together to a judge who will decide if you have the right to tear me to pieces."

So the went to seek a judge. After going a little way they came to a tree onto which was tied an old horse.

"What are you doing there?" the peasant asked the horse. "Who tied you here?"

"Oh," it said, "my master has gone to fetch a knacker who is to kill me, for I am too old and week to pull the plow and other loads. When I was young and strong, my master had only praise for me, but now he has no use for me, and thus I will have to die."

"You see, peasant," said the snake, "there you have proof that ingratitude is the world's reward. Now I am going to tear you to pieces."

"No," said the peasant. "Let us go to another judge."

So they went further. A dog came ran up to them and sought the peasant's protection against his master, who was about to shoot him. He had now grown unable to watch over the house, and he told the peasant that his master had held him dearly when he was young and could watch over the house and the yard, but now that he was old and weak, he had acquired another dog and wanted to shoot him.

"There you have the second proof that ingratitude is the world's reward," said the snake. "You must admit that I have the right to tear you apart."

But the peasant did not want to admit this, and while they were arguing about it, a fox came their way and asked why they were quarreling.

"Wait," thought the peasant. "The fox is very sly. He could be our judge."

He explained the case to him, who then took the peasant aside and said to him, "If you will promise me two roosters then I'll free you from the snake."

"They will be yours," said the peasant.

"Now," said the fox, "if I am to be your judge then I must see the hole where the snake was caught. I cannot make a judgment until I have seen it."

So they turned around and went back to the hole. Upon seeing it, the fox said, "What? Such a large snake was caught in this small hole? I do not believe it. It is entirely impossible! First you must convince me that there is room for you there. Snake, crawl inside and show me that you really were caught there."

The snake crawled inside, and he had scarcely done so when then fox quickly rolled the stone back in place, capturing him again, however much he cried out "Help me!"

The peasant was very happy and told the fox to come that evening to fetch the roosters. He would leave the back gate to his yard open so he could get in.

The fox came that evening when everyone was eating supper. He found the back gate open and crept inside. But when he neared the chicken coop, the chickens saw him and cried out. The peasant's wife heard the noise, went to see what was wrong, and discovered the fox.

"Wait," she said, "I'll light the way home for you." She ran into the kitchen, picked up a burning piece of wood, ran back to the chicken coop, and hit the fox so long with it until his pelt was all burned up. Crying out, he ran away. When he was halfway out he shouted "Ingratitude is still the world's reward."

Inside Again

Europe

A man was walking through the forest one day when he saw a funny black thing like a whip wriggling about under a big stone. He was curious to know what it all meant. So he lifted up the stone and found there a huge black snake.

"That's well," said the snake. "I have been trying to get out for two days, and, Oh, how hungry I am. I must have something to eat, and there is nobody around, so I must eat you."

"But that wouldn't be fair," said the man with a trembling voice. "But for me you would never have come out from under the stone."

"I do not care for that," said the snake. "Self preservation is the first law of life; you ask anybody if that isn't so."

"Anyone will tell you," said the man, "that gratitude is a person's first duty, and surely you owe me thanks for saving your life."

"But you haven't saved my life, if I am to die of hunger," said the snake.

"Oh yes, I have," said the man; "all you have to do is to wait till you find something to eat."

"Meanwhile I shall die, and what's the use of being saved!"

So they disputed and they disputed whether the case was to be decided by the claims of gratitude or the rights of self-preservation, till they did not know what to do.

"I tell you what I'll do," said the snake, "I'll let the first passer-by decide which is right."

"But I can't let my life depend upon the word of the first comer."

"Well, we'll ask the first two that pass by."

"Perhaps they won't agree," said the man; "what are we to do then? We shall be as badly off as we are now."

"Ah, well," said the snake, "let it be the first three. In all law courts it takes three judges to make a session. We'll follow the majority of votes."

So they waited till at last there came along an old, old horse. And they put the case to him, whether gratitude should ward off death.

"I don't see why it should," said the horse. "Here have I been slaving for my master for the last fifteen years, till I am thoroughly worn out, and only this morning I heard him say, 'Roger' -- that's my name -- 'is no use to me any longer; I shall have to send him to the knacker's and get a few pence for his hide and his hoofs.' There's gratitude for you."

So the horse's vote was in favor of the snake. And they waited till at last an old hound passed by limping on three legs, half blind with scarcely any teeth. So they put the case to him.

"Look at me," said he; "I have slaved for my master for ten years, and this very day he has kicked me out of his house because I am no use to him any longer, and he grudged me a few bones to eat. So far as I can see nobody acts from gratitude."

"Well," said the snake, "there's two votes for me. What's the use of waiting for the third? he's sure to decide in my favor, and if he doesn't it's two to one. Come here and I'll eat you!"

"No, no," said the man, "a bargain's a bargain; perhaps the third judge will be able to convince the other two and my life will be saved."

So they waited and they waited, till at last a fox came trotting along; and they stopped him and explained to him both sides of the case. He sat up and scratched his left ear with his hind paw, and after a while he beckoned the man to come near him. And when he did so the fox whispered, "What will you give me if I get you out of this?"

The man whispered back, "A pair of fat chickens."

"Well," said the fox, "if I am to decide this case I must clearly understand the situation. Let me see! If I comprehend aright, the man was lying under the stone and the snake -- -- "

"No, no," cried out the horse and the hound and the snake. "It was the other way."

"Ah, ha, I see! The stone was rolling down and the man sat on it, and then -- -- "

"Oh, how stupid you are," they all cried; "it wasn't that way at all."

"Dear me, you are quite right. I am very stupid, but, really, you haven't explained the case quite clearly to me."

"I'll show you," said the snake, impatient from his long hunger; and he twisted himself again under the stone and wriggled his tail till at last the stone settled down upon him and he couldn't move out. "That's the way it was."

"And that's the way it will be," said the fox, and, taking the man's arm, he walked off, followed by the horse and the hound. "And now for my chickens."

"I'll go and get them for you," said the man, and went up to his house, which was near, and told his wife all about it.

"But," she said, "why waste a pair of chickens on a foxy old fox! I know what I'll do."

So she went into the back yard and unloosed the dog and put it into a meal-bag and gave it to the man, who took it down and gave it to the fox, who trotted off with it to his den.

But when he opened the bag out sprung the dog and gobbled him all up.

There's gratitude for you.

The Ungrateful Tiger

Korea

One day a tiger was trapped in a pit, and asked a passing traveler to rescue it, promising to reward him. So the traveler poked a long branch down into the pit, and the tiger crawled out. But when it was safe again it turned on the traveler and roared with its mouth wide open, "I am very hungry and I am going to eat you up."

The traveler protested and chided the tiger. "You are most ungrateful," he said. "You must not do that." But the tiger ignored his protests, and so the traveler appealed to a toad which lived under a nearby rock.

The traveler told the toad of the tiger's ingratitude, but the tiger insisted that it was hungry and meant to eat the traveler.

"I must look into this more closely," said the toad. "Will you show me the place where it happened?" So they took it along to the pit. Then the toad asked the tiger, "How did it happen? Let me see just where you were."

So the tiger jumped down into the pit and said, "I was down here at the bottom, see."

But the traveler took the branch out of the pit and said, "Of course, this wasn't there then."

The toad turned to the traveler and said with a smile. "You had better go now, and in future don't help such ungrateful creatures." And looking down at the tiger in the pit it said, "You ungrateful wretch! You can stay down there now."

The traveler thanked the toad and went on his way. The tiger trapped in the pit roared in fury, but the toad went back to its home under the rock and refused to help it.

The Farmer, the Crocodile, and the Jackal

Pakistan

There was once a wily old crocodile who dwelt in a tank [pond] hard by a village, and he was sometimes so ferocious that he would seize children who used to go for water there, then drown and eat them. He had become, in fact, the terror of the place.

One year there was a very great drought, and the tank by degrees began to dry up, and at last it got quite dry, and the crocodile was to be seen grilling and roasting in the sun.

He used to call out to the passers-by, "Oh! pray take pity upon me and show me where I can go for water, for I am dying in this heat."

"No, indeed! they all said. "We are glad to see you suffering, for have you not often made us suffer by taking our goats, and sometimes even our children? We shall not help you in any way."

At last an old man passed by, and the crocodile appealed to him, and at first he replied as the others did, but afterwards he relented and said, "Well, if you will follow me I will take you to a tank which is never dry." So the crocodile followed him, and he showed him a tank no great distance off, which was filled with water.

The old man went first into the tank himself, and calling to the crocodile, he said, "See here, how deep it is!"

No sooner had the crocodile had a good drink, than he made a grab at the old man's leg. "Ah-ho! Ah-ho!" said the old man. "What are you doing?"

"Well," replied the crocodile, "I have had a good drink, thanks to you, and as I have had no food for many days, I am going to make a meal of you. That is what I am going to do."

"You wretched and ungrateful brute!" said the old man. "Is this the way you reward me?"

At that moment a jackal hove in sight, coming for a drink (the jackals, we know, are the most cunning of all animals), and the old man said, "I will put my case before him, and if he says you are to eat me, very good, so you shall."

The old man then beckoned to the jackal to come close up to the tank, and told him all the facts of the case.

The jackal said, "You know I am always a just judge, and if you want me to decide, you must show me the place from whence you brought the crocodile."

So they all three wended their way back to the tank near the village, and the jackal said, "Show me the exact spot where you first found the crocodile," and when they got there the jackal said, "Now I am going to give you my judgment, so prepare to listen." Then turning to the old man, he said quietly, "You silly old idiot! What made you ever help a crocodile? Now, you run one way, and I will run the other."

The jackal gave a skip, and was soon off out of sight, and the old man took to his heels also, and soon got away. The wily old crocodile, now balked of his prey, said to himself, "I know my way back to that water tank, and I will someday have my revenge on that jackal, for he is sure to come there to lap water."

So back he went, and as there were many trees near the tank, some of whose roots went beneath the water, the crocodile lay in ambush there. By and by the jackal came to drink water, and the crocodile made a sudden snap at his leg, and held it.

"Oh, you foolish crocodile!" the jackal said, "you think you have got hold of my leg, do you? But it is only the root of a tree."

Hearing this, the crocodile released his hold, and the jackal jumped off in high glee out of his reach.

The crocodile then determined that he would try some other plan of entrapping him. So, as there were great numbers of a small fruit falling from one of the trees, which he knew the jackal came to eat, he one night piled up a heap and hid himself beneath it, leaving only his eyes uncovered.

Presently the jackal came prowling along, and noticing the pile of fruit he felt inclined to partake of some, but he drew near very cautiously, and in a moment he caught sight of the two eyes of the crocodile glistening in the moonlight, when he called out, "Oh, I see you!" and scampered off.

After this, the crocodile saw that it was no use to try himself to catch the jackal, "for," said he, "he is too cunning for me. I must employ someone who comes to get water here."

So one day he saw a farmer, and said to him, "If you will catch a jackal for me, I will make you a rich man, for I will give you several jewels which people have dropped in this tank for years and years, and they are lying here at the bottom."

"Oh!" replied the farmer, "that is easily done." So that very night he went into the jungle and lay down as if dead.

Presently the jackal made his appearance, and smelling along he came close up to the body. Then he hesitated and said, "I wonder if this is really a dead body or not." He then called out audibly, "If it is really dead it will shake its leg, and if it is alive it won't do so." This he said so quickly and so artfully that the farmer was taken aback, and to make him believe he was dead he at once stupidly shook his leg, and off skipped the jackal, saying, "I caught you there," and was lost to view in an instant.

The farmer, who was very avaricious, and wanted the jewels badly, made up his mind that he would by hook or by crook make sure of the jackal on the next occasion. So this time he prepared of the softest wax a doll the size of a child, and digging a small grave and covering it over with leaves and mud, he waited in hiding to see the result.

Shortly after sunset the jackal began to prowl about as usual, and coming on the new grave he said to himself, "Ah! This is someone lately buried. I will try my luck here." He then began to scratch with his paw, and presently one paw got caught in the wax, and in trying to get that away, all four became stuck with the wax, when in a moment out came the farmer from his hiding place and said, "Ah! At last I have got you, and you are my prisoner!"

The jackal yelled and howled, and endeavored to escape, but was hindered by the wax on his feet. So then he took to frightening the farmer, and said, "If you do not get me out of this scrape I will call all the jackals in a moment of time, and they will destroy you forever, for do you not know that I am the king of the jackals?"

"What am I to do?" asked the farmer.

"Go!" he said. "Go and get some oil, and rub it all over me. Then get a fowl, and tie it about fifty yards away, and bring two men with hatchets to stand over me, so that if I attempt to get away they may chop me to pieces!"

This being done by the farmer, the jackal while being held in his hands sought his opportunity, and being well greased all over, he made a violent spring and so got clear of the farmer. Then he dashed between the legs of the men with hatchets, when they made a plunge at him, but they only succeeded in hurting their own legs. So the jackal got finally off, and picking up the fowl, he was soon lost to view, and so won the day.