2. Grateful Animals and Ungrateful Man.
Driftwood is worth more than some men.
Jātaka 78: i. 322-327.
True is this saying of some men of the world. This parable was related by the Teacher while he was in residence at Bamboo Grove with reference to Devadatta’s going about for the purpose of killing him. For while the Congregation of Monks, sitting in the Hall of Truth, were discussing Devadatta’s wickedness, saying, “Brethren, Devadatta knows not the Teacher’s virtues, but is going about for the sole purpose of killing him,” the Teacher drew near and asked: “Monks, what is the subject that engages your attention now as you sit here all gathered together?” “Such-and-such,” was the reply. “Monks,” said the Teacher, “not only in his present state of existence has Devadatta gone about for the purpose of killing me; in a previous state of existence also he went about for the purpose of killing me in the very same way.” Then, in response to a request of the monks, he related the following Story of the Past:
Prince Wicked.
In times past Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres. He had a son named Prince Wicked, and Prince Wicked was as tough and hard as a beaten snake. He never spoke to anybody without either reviling him or striking him. The result was that both by indoor-folk and by outdoor-folk he was disliked and detested as much as dust lodged in the eye or as a demon come to eat.
One day, desiring to sport in the water, he went to the river-bank with a large retinue. At that moment a great cloud arose. The directions became dark. He said to his slaves and servants: “Come, fellows! take me and conduct me to mid-stream and bathe me and bring me back.” They led him there and took counsel together, saying: “What can the king do to us! Let’s kill this wicked fellow right here!” So saying, they plunged him into the water, made their way out of the water again, and stood on the bank.
As the courtiers returned to the king, they reflected: “In case we are asked, ‘Where is the prince?’ we will say, ‘We have not seen the prince; it must be that upon seeing a cloud arise he plunged into the water and went on ahead of us.’” The king asked: “Where is my son?” “We do not know, your majesty. A cloud arose. We returned, supposing: ‘He must have gone on ahead of us.’” The king caused the gates to be flung open, went to the river-bank, and caused them to search here and there. “Search!” said he. Nobody saw the prince.
As a matter of fact, in the darkness caused by the cloud, while the god was raining, the prince, swept along by the river, seeing a certain tree-trunk, clambered on it, and sitting astride of it, traveled along, terrified with the fear of death, lamenting.