[15] i. e. the auspicious or friendly one.
[16] There is probably a double meaning in the word “incomprehensible.”
[17] Perhaps we ought to read dattvá for tatra.
[18] A report similar to that spread against Harasvámin was in circulation during the French Revolution. Taine in his history of the Revolution, Vol. I, p. 418 tells the following anecdote: “M. de Montlosier found himself the object of many unpleasant attentions when he went to the National Assembly. In particular a woman of about thirty used to sharpen a large knife when he passed and look at him in a threatening manner. On enquiry he discovered the cause—Deux enfants du quartier ont disparu enlevés par de bohémiens, et c’est maintenant un bruit répandu que M. de Montlosier, le marquis de Mirabeau, et d’autres députés du côté droit se rassemblent pour faire des orgies dans lesquelles ils mangent de petits enfants.”
[19] The city of flowers, i. g. Páṭaliputra.
[20] Perhaps we ought to read yayau for dadau. This I find is the reading of an excellent MS. in the Sanskrit college, for the loan of which I am deeply indebted to the Principal and the Librarian.
Chapter XXV.
In the meanwhile the young Bráhman Śaktideva, in very low spirits, having been rejected with contempt by the princess he longed for, said to himself; “To-day by asserting falsely that I had seen the Golden City, I certainly incurred contempt, but I did not obtain that princess. So I must roam through the earth to find it, until I have either seen that city or lost my life. For of what use is my life, unless I can return having seen that city, and obtain the princess as the prize of the achievement?” Having thus taken a vow, that Bráhman set out from the city of Vardhamána, directing his course toward the southern quarter, and as he journeyed, he at last reached the great forest of the Vindhya range, and entered it, which was difficult and long as his own undertaking. And that forest, so to speak, fanned, with the soft leaves of its trees shaken by the wind, him, who was heated by the multitudinous rays of the sun; and through grief at being overrun with many robbers, it made its cry heard day and night in the shrill screams of animals which were being slain in it by lions and other noisome beasts. And it seemed, by the unchecked rays of heat flashed upward from its wild deserts, to endeavour to conquer the fierce brightness of the sun: in it, though there was no accumulation of water, calamity was to be easily purchased:[1] and its space seemed ever to extend before the traveller as fast as he crossed it. In the course of many days he accomplished a long journey through this forest, and beheld in it a great lake of cold pure water in a lonely spot: which seemed to lord it over all lakes, with its lotuses like lofty umbrellas, and its swans like gleaming white chowries. In the water of that lake he performed the customary ablutions, and on its northern shore he beheld a hermitage with beautiful fruit-bearing trees: and he saw an old hermit named Súryatapas sitting at the foot of an Aśvattha tree, surrounded by ascetics, adorned with a rosary, the beads of which by their number seemed to be the knots that marked the centuries of his life,[2] and which rested against the extremity of his ear that was white with age. And he approached that hermit with a bow, and the hermit welcomed him with hospitable greetings. And the hermit, after entertaining him with fruits and other delicacies, asked him, “Whence have you come, and whither are you going? Tell me, good sir.” And Śaktideva inclining respectfully, said to that hermit,—“I have come, venerable sir, from the city of Vardhamána, and I have undertaken to go to the Golden City in accordance with a vow. But I do not know where that city lies; tell me venerable sir, if you know.” The hermit answered, “My son, I have lived eight hundred years in this hermitage, and I have never even heard of that city.” Śaktideva when he heard this from the hermit, was cast down, and said again—“Then my wanderings through the earth will end by my dying here.” Then that hermit, having gradually elicited the whole story said to him, “If you are firmly resolved, then do what I tell you. Three yojanas from here there is a country named Kámpilya, and in it is a mountain named Uttara, and on it there is a hermitage. There dwells my noble elder brother named Dírghatapas;[3] go to him, he being old may perhaps know of that city.” When Śaktideva heard that, hope arose in his breast, and having spent the night there he quickly set out in the morning from that place. And wearied with the laborious journey through difficult forest country, he at last reached that region of Kámpilya and ascended that mountain Uttara; and there he beheld that hermit Dírghatapas in a hermitage, and he was delighted and approached him with a bow: and the hermit received him hospitably: and Śaktideva said to him, “I am on my way to the City of Gold spoken of by the king’s daughter: but I do not know, venerable sir, where that city is. However I am bound to find it, so I have been sent to you by the sage Súryatapas in order that I may discover where it lies.” When he had said this, the hermit answered him, “Though I am so old, my son, I have never heard of that city till to-day; I have made acquaintance with various travellers from foreign lands, and I have never heard any one speak of it; much less have I seen it. But I am sure it must be in some distant foreign island, and I can tell you an expedient to help you in this matter; there is in the midst of the ocean an island named Utsthala, and in it there is a rich king of the Nishádas[4] named Satyavrata. He goes to and fro among all the other islands, and he may have seen or heard of that city. Therefore first go to the city named Viṭankapura situated on the border of the sea. And from that place go with some merchant in a ship to the island where that Nisháda dwells, in order that you may attain your object.” When Śaktideva heard this from the hermit, he immediately followed his advice, and taking leave of him set out from the hermitage. And after accomplishing many kos and crossing many lands, he reached the city of Viṭankapura, the ornament of the sea-shore. There he sought out a merchant named Samudradatta, who traded with the island of Utsthala, and struck up a friendship with him. And he went on board his ship with him, and having food for the voyage fully supplied by his kindness, he set out on the ocean-path. Then, when they had but a short distance to travel, there arose a black cloud with rumbling thunder, resembling a roaring Rákshasa, with flickering lightning to represent his lolling tongue. And a furious hurricane began to blow like Destiny herself, whirling up light objects and hurling down heavy.[5] And from the sea, lashed by the wind, great waves rose aloft like the mountains equipped with wings,[6] indignant that their asylum had been attacked. And that vessel rose on high one moment, and the next moment plunged below, as if exhibiting how rich men are first elevated and then cast down. And the next moment that ship, shrilly laden with the cries of the merchants, burst and split asunder as if with the weight. And the ship being broken, that merchant its owner fell into the sea, but floating through it on a plank he at last reached another vessel. But as Śaktideva fell, a large fish, opening its mouth and neck, swallowed him without injuring any of his limbs. And as that fish was roaming at will in the midst of the sea, it happened to pass near the island of Utsthala; and by chance some servants of that king of the fishermen Satyavrata, who were engaged in the pursuit of small fish, came there and caught it. And those fishermen, proud of their prize, immediately dragged it along to shew to their king, for it was of enormous size. He too, out of curiosity, seeing that it was of such extraordinary size, ordered his servants to cut it open; and when it was cut open, Śaktideva came out alive from its belly, having endured a second wonderful imprisonment in the womb.[7] Then the fisher-king Satyavrata, when he saw that young man come out and bestow his blessing on him, was astonished, and asked him, “Who are you, and how did this lot of dwelling in the belly of the fish befall you? What means this exceedingly strange fate that you have suffered.” When Śaktideva heard this, he answered that king of the fishermen: “I am a Bráhman of the name of Śaktideva from the city of Vardhamána; and I am bound to visit the City of Gold, and because I do not know where it is, I have for a long time wandered far over the earth; then I gathered from a speech of Dírghatapas’ that it was probably in an island, so I set out to find Satyavrata the king of the fishermen, who lives in the island of Utsthala, in order to learn its whereabouts, but on the way I suffered shipwreck, and so having been whelmed in the sea and swallowed by a fish, I have been brought here now.” When Śaktideva had said this, Satyavrata said to him: “I am in truth Satyavrata, and this is the very island you were seeking; but though I have seen many islands, I have never seen the city you desire to find, but I have heard of it as situated in one of the distant islands.” Having said this, and perceiving that Śaktideva was cast down, Satyavrata out of kindness for his guest went on to say: “Bráhman, do not be despondent; remain here this night, and to-morrow morning I will devise some expedient to enable you to attain your object.” The Bráhman was thus consoled by the king, and sent off to a monastery of Bráhmans, where guests were readily entertained. There Śaktideva was supplied with food by a Bráhman named Vishṇudatta, an inmate of the monastery, and entered into conversation with him. And in the course of that conversation, being questioned by him, he told him in a few words his country, his family, and his whole history. When Vishṇudatta heard that, he immediately embraced him, and said in a voice indistinct from the syllables being choked with tears of joy: “Bravo! you are the son of my maternal uncle and a fellow-countryman of mine. But I long ago in my childhood left that country to come here. So stop here awhile, and soon the stream of merchants and pilots that come here from other islands will accomplish your wish.” Having told him his descent in these words, Vishṇudatta waited upon Śaktideva with all becoming attentions. And Śaktideva, forgetting the toil of the journey, obtained delight, for the meeting a relation in a foreign land is like a fountain of nectar in the desert. And he considered that the accomplishment of his object was near at hand, for good luck, befalling one by the way indicates success in an undertaking. So he reclined at night sleepless upon his bed, with his mind fixed upon the attainment of his desire, and Vishṇudatta, who was by his side, in order to encourage and delight him at the same time, related to him the following tale: