Then king Chandrávaloka mounted his horse, and set out with Indívaraprabhá in quest of his army, in a state of the utmost despondency. He said to himself, “Alas! I, bewildered by hunting and love, have suddenly incurred destruction like Páṇḍu;[9] fool that I am! For whence can I obtain for this Rákshasa a victim, such as he has described? So I will go in the meantime to my own town, and see what will happen.” While thus reflecting, he met his own army, that had come in search of him, and with that and his wife he entered his city of Chitrakúṭa. Then the whole kingdom rejoiced, when they saw that he had obtained a suitable wife, but the king passed the rest of the day in suppressed sorrow.
The next day he communicated to his ministers in secret all that had taken place, and a discreet minister among them said to him, “Do not be downcast, king, for I will search for and bring you such a victim, for the earth contains many marvels.”
When the minister had consoled the king in these words, he had made with the utmost rapidity a golden image of a seven-years-old child, and he adorned its ears with jewels, and placed it on a chariot, and had it carried about in the towns, villages, and stations of herdsmen. And while that image of a child was being carried about, the minister had the following proclamation continually made in front of it, with beat of drum; “If a Bráhman boy of seven years old will willingly offer himself to a Bráhman demon for the good of the community, and if his mother and father will permit the brave boy to offer himself, and will hold his hands and feet while he is being slain, the king will give to that boy, who is so eager to benefit his parents as to comply with these conditions, this image of gold and gems, together with a hundred villages.”
Now it happened that a certain seven-years-old Bráhman boy, living on a royal grant to Bráhmans, who was of great courage and admirable character, heard this proclamation. Even in his childhood this boy had always taken pleasure in benefiting his fellow-men, as he had practised that virtue in a former life; in fact he seemed like the ripe result of the merits of the king’s subjects incarnate in bodily form. So he came and said to the men who were making this proclamation, “I will offer myself up for your good; but first, I will go and inform my parents; then I will return to you.” When he said this to them, they were delighted, and they let him go. So he went home, and folding his hands in an attitude of supplication, he said to his parents; “I wish to offer for the good of the community this perishable body of mine; so permit me to do so, and put an end to your poverty. For if I do so, the king will give me this image of myself, made of gold and gems, together with a hundred villages, and on receiving them, I will make them over to you. In this way I shall pay my debt to you, and at the same time benefit my fellow-men; and your poverty will be at an end, and you will have many sons to replace me.”
As soon as he had said this, his parents answered him; “What is this that you say, son? Are you distracted with wind? Or are you planet-struck? Unless you are one of these, how could you talk in this wild way? Who would cause his son’s death for the sake of wealth? What child would sacrifice its body?” When the boy heard this speech of his parents, he rejoined; “I do not speak from a disordered intellect; hear my speech, which is full of sense. This body, which is full of indescribable impurities, which is loathsome by its very birth, and the abode of pain, will soon perish[10] anyhow. So wise men say that the only solid and permanent thing in a fleeting universe is that merit which is acquired by means of this very frail and perishable body.[11] And what greater merit can there be than the benefiting of all creatures? So, if I do not show devotion to my parents, what fruit shall I reap from my body?” By this speech and others of the same kind the resolute boy induced his weeping parents to consent to his wish. And he went to the king’s servants, and obtained from them that golden image, together with a grant of a hundred villages, and gave them to his parents. Then he made the king’s servants precede him, and went quickly, accompanied by his parents, to the king in Chitrakúṭa. Then king Chandrávaloka, beholding arrived the boy, whose courage[12] was so perfect, and who thus resembled a bright protecting talisman, was exceedingly delighted. So he had him adorned with garlands, and anointed with unguents, and putting him on the back of an elephant, he took him with his parents to the abode of the Bráhman demon.
Then the chaplain drew a circle near the aśvattha-tree, and performed the requisite rites, and made an oblation to the fire. And then the Bráhman demon Jválámukha appeared, uttering a loud laugh, and reciting the Vedas. His appearance was very terrible; he was drunk with a full draught of blood, yawning, and panting frequently; his eyes blazed, and he darkened the whole horizon with the shadow of his body. Then king Chandrávaloka, beholding him, bent before him, and said; “Adorable one, I have brought you this human sacrifice, and it is now the seventh day, gentle Sir, since I promised it you; so be propitious, receive this sacrifice, as is due.” When the king made this request, the Bráhman demon looked at the Bráhman boy, licking the corners of his mouth with his tongue.[13]
At that moment the noble boy, in his joy, said to himself, “Let not the merit, which I acquire by this sacrifice of my body, gain for me heaven, or even a salvation which involves no benefits to others, but may I be privileged to offer up my body for the benefit of others in birth after birth!” While he was forming this aspiration, the heaven was suddenly filled with the chariots of the heavenly host, who rained flowers.
Then the boy was placed in front of the Bráhman demon, and his mother took hold of his hands and his father of his feet. Then the king drew his sword, and prepared to slay him; but at that moment the child laughed so loudly, that all there, the Bráhman demon included, abandoned the occupation in which they were engaged, and in their astonishment put their palms together, and bowing, looked at his face.
When the Vetála had told this entertaining and romantic tale, he once more put a question to king Trivikramasena; “So tell me, king, what was the reason that the boy laughed in such an awful moment as that of his own death? I feel great curiosity to know it, so, if you know, and do not tell me, your head shall split into a hundred pieces.”
When the king heard this from the Vetála, he answered him, “Hear what was the meaning of that child’s laugh. It is well known that a weak creature, when danger comes upon it, calls upon its father or mother to save its life. And if its father and mother be gone, it invokes the protection of the king who is appointed to succour the afflicted, and if it cannot obtain the aid of the king, it calls upon the deity under whose special protection it is. Now, in the case of that child, all those were present, and all behaved in exactly the opposite manner to what might have been expected of them. The child’s parents held its hands and feet out of greed of gain, and the king was eager to slay it, to save his own life, and the Bráhman demon, its protecting deity, was ready to devour it. The child said to itself; ‘To think that these should be thus deluded, being led so much astray for the sake of the body, which is perishable, loathsome within, and full of pain and disease. Why should they have such a strange longing for the continuance of the body, in a world in which Brahmá, Indra, Vishṇu, Śiva, and the other gods must certainly perish.’ Accordingly the Bráhman boy laughed out of joy and wonder, joy at feeling that he had accomplished his object, and wonder at beholding the marvellous strangeness of their delusion.”