Where there’s a will, there’s a way.

Jātaka 156: ii. 17-23.

Relying on Noble-heart. This parable was related by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to a certain monk who relaxed effort. Said the Teacher to him: “Of a truth, monk, did you not, in a previous state of existence, by exerting yourself, get and give to a young prince no bigger than a piece of meat, dominion over the city of Benāres, a city twelve leagues in measure?” So saying, he related the following Story of the Past:

In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, there was a carpenters’ settlement not far from Benāres. In this settlement lived five hundred carpenters. They would go up-stream in a boat, cut timber for building materials for houses in the forest, and prepare houses of one or more stories on the spot. Then, marking all of the timbers, beginning with the pillars, they would carry them to the river-bank, load them on a boat, return to the city with the current, and for a price build for any particular person any particular kind of house he desired to have built. Then they would go back to the forest and get building materials once more. Thus they made their living.

One day, not far from the camp where they were fashioning timbers, a certain elephant trod on an acacia splinter, and the splinter pierced his foot. He suffered intense pain, and his foot became swollen and festered. Maddened with pain, hearing the sound of those carpenters fashioning timbers, thinking to himself, “With the help of these carpenters I can get relief,” he went to them on three feet and lay down not far off. The carpenters saw that his foot was swollen, and on drawing closer, saw the splinter in his foot. So making incisions all round the splinter with a sharp knife, they tied a cord to the splinter, removed the splinter with a pull, let out the pus, washed the wound with hot water, and by applying proper remedies, in no very long time made the wound comfortable.

When the elephant was well, he thought: “I owe my life to these carpenters; now I ought to do something for them.” From that time on he helped the carpenters remove trees, rolled them over and held them for the carpenters while they were fashioning them, brought them their tools, and held the measuring-cord, taking it by the end and wrapping his trunk about it. As for the carpenters, when it was time to eat, each one of them gave the elephant a morsel of food; thus in all they gave him five hundred morsels of food.

Now that elephant had a son, and he was pure white, a noble son of a noble sire. So the following thought occurred to the elephant: “I am now old. I ought therefore to give my son to these carpenters to help them in their work, and myself go away.” Without saying a word to the carpenters, he entered the forest, and leading his son to the carpenters, said: “This young elephant is my son. You gave me my life; I give you this elephant by way of paying the fee which I owe to my physicians. Henceforth he will work for you.”

Then he admonished his son: “Henceforth you are to do whatever it was my duty to do.” Having so said, he gave his son to the carpenters and himself entered the forest. From that time on the young elephant obeyed the commands of the carpenters, was patient of admonition, performed all of the duties. They fed him also with five hundred morsels of food. After doing his work, he would descend into the river and play, and then come back. And the carpenters’ children used to take hold of him by the trunk and play with him, both in the water and on dry land.

The elephant-trainers reported that incident to the king, remarking: “That noble elephant should be sought out and brought to you, your majesty.” The king made haste up the river with boats and rafts; with rafts bound up-stream he reached the place of abode of the carpenters. The young elephant, playing in the river, on hearing the sound of the drum, went and stood by the carpenters. The carpenters went forth to meet the king, and said: “Your majesty, if you have need of timber, why did you yourself come? why shouldn’t you have sent men to get it?” “I didn’t come for timber, I assure you, but I came for this elephant.” “Take him and go, your majesty.”

The young elephant would not go. “What, pray, will you have done, elephant?” “Have the carpenters paid for my keeping, your majesty.” “Very well, I will,” said the king. He had a hundred thousand pieces of money laid near each of the elephant’s four feet, near his trunk, and near his tail. But for all that the elephant would not go. When, however, pairs of cloths had been given to all of the carpenters, when under-garments had been given to the carpenters’ wives, and when the proper attentions had been paid to the children he had played with, then the elephant turned around, and eyeing the carpenters and their wives and their children as he went, accompanied the king.