“On account of poisoning,” returned the fiend laconically.
Ananda was about to seek further explanations, when his attention was arrested by a violent altercation between two of the supervising demons.
“Kammuragha, evidently,” croaked one.
“Damburanana, of course,” snarled the other.
“May I,” inquired Ananda of the fiend he had before addressed, “presume to ask the signification of Kammuragha and Damburanana?”
“They are two hells,” replied the demon. “In Kammuragha the occupant is plunged into melted pitch and fed with melted lead. In Damburanana he is plunged into melted lead and fed with melted pitch. My colleagues are debating which is the more appropriate to the demerits of our guest Ananda.”
Ere Ananda had had time to digest this announcement a youthful imp descended from above with agility, and, making a profound reverence, presented himself before the disputants.
“Venerable demons,” interposed he, “might my insignificance venture to suggest that we cannot well testify too much honour for our visitor Ananda, seeing that he is the only apostle of Buddha with whose company we are likely ever to be indulged? Wherefore I would propose that neither Kammuragha nor Damburanana be assigned for his residence, but that the amenities of all the two hundred and forty-four thousand hells be combined in a new one, constructed especially for his reception.”
The imp having thus spoken, the senior demons were amazed at his precocity, and performed a pradakshina, exclaiming, “Truly thou art a highly superior young devil!” They then departed to prepare the new infernal chamber, agreeably to his recipe.
Ananda awoke, shuddering with terror.