Now there lived in the neighbourhood of the lake two hunters, Masūraka and Phalaka. Living near the lake, they supported themselves by killing not only land animals, such as the hares, stags, boars, and so forth which came to that lake to drink, but also the fish, tortoises, and so forth which lived in the water. Of these two hunters Masūraka died, but Phalaka remained alive. As the Nāga Janmachitra came to the conclusion that there was no one except the hunter Phalaka to whom he could fly for refuge, he went, after assuming the form of a man, to the hunter Phalaka, and said to him, “O friend, if King Dhana’s realm is vast, rich, healthy, fruitful, and populous, and overflows with rice, sugar-cane, oxen, and buffaloes (as was said above), do you know through whose power this has come to pass?” The hunter answered, “Well do I know that this takes place because that king rules in accordance with the law, and protects his land with gentle, benignant, and merciful mind.” The Nāga said, “Does all this arise from that cause only, or from some other cause as well?” The hunter said, “There is another cause as well. In this lake lives the Nāga Janmachitra, who from time to time sends down a torrent of rain, in consequence of which the soil becomes extremely fertile, [[48]]and is replete with food and drink.” Janmachitra said, “If this Nāga were to be taken away from this land by any one, he would no longer be able to be of service, and he would be very wretched on account of being separated from his parents. What would the king and the inhabitants of the land do if he were to be carried off? what would you do?”
“We should perish.”
“Do you know who this Nāga is?”
“No!”
“I am he, and a serpent-charmer from South Panchāla wishes to carry me off. He has gone back to fetch offerings and utensils, and will return in seven days. He will then drive pegs of Khadira-wood[3] into the shore of the lake at its four corners, will hang up various threads of different colours, and will recite spells. During that time you must remain hidden somewhere near. But when, as he is performing a ceremony of this kind, the waters of the lake begin to seethe and overflow, and I come forth from them, then you must bend your bow against the serpent-charmer, and run up to him quickly and say, ‘Reverse the spell. If you do not do so I shall sever your head from your body and send it to the bottom of the lake.’ But if he dies without reversing the spell, then, even after his death, I shall remain bound by its force all my life long.” The hunter said, “As I would have done this of my own accord, were it merely for the sake of doing you a service, how much the more shall I be ready to protect you, inasmuch as I shall be doing a service to the whole kingdom. Say no more.”
The Nāga then took up his abode in a lonely spot. When seven days had passed, the hunter hid himself near that place. The serpent-charmer came and began to prepare the offerings and utensils, driving in the pegs of [[49]]Khadira-wood at the four corners, attaching various threads of divers colours, and reciting spells. When the water began to seethe, the hunter sped an arrow from his bow, and then drew his sword from its sheath and cried, “Will you carry off the Nāga who dwells in our land by means of spells? Reverse your spell. If you do not, I will sever your head from your body and send it to the bottom of the lake.” The serpent-charmer, experiencing pain and grief induced by anguish and fear of death, reversed the spell, whereupon the hunter instantly killed him. When the Nāga was thus freed from the power of the spell, he came forth from the lake, embraced the hunter, and thus addressed him, “You are my mother, you are my father. In this wise am I, in that I trusted in you, spared the pain of being separated from my parents. Come, let us go to them.” He led him to their abode, regaled him with meats and drinks of divers kinds, presented him with jewels, and then said to his parents, “This man has become my refuge, my friend, and my kinsman. Through his means I have been saved from separation from you.” The parents also let him have all he wished for, and presented him with precious things of all kinds. These he took away with him, and then came forth from the lake.
Not far from the lake was a hermitage, rich in flowers, and fruits, and birds which uttered varied notes. Therein a Rishi abode, full of gentleness, mercy, and kindness towards living creatures. To this Rishi the hunter was wont to go daily, in the morning, at midday, and in the evening. To him he gave a full account of what had taken place between him and the Nāga Janmachitra. The Rishi said to him, “What need have you of jewels and gold? That habitation contains the Amogha-chain[4] (i.e., that which holds fast). You must ask for that.” As a desire for that Amogha-chain arose within the hunter’s mind, he followed the advice of the Rishi, and again betook himself to the abode of the Nāgas. There [[50]]he saw the Amogha-chain at the entrance of the Nāgas’ abode, and perceiving that it was the chain which he wanted, he entered into the abode. The Nāga Janmachitra and the other Nāgas were delighted, and they gave him jewels. But he said, “Jewels I want not; rather give me the Amogha-chain.” Janmachitra replied, “What need have you of it? To us it is most needful. When the Garuḍa plagues us, it is to this chain that we are indebted for safety.” The hunter said, “As ye are but seldom threatened with danger from the Garuḍa, therefore it is not so very necessary for you. But I am constantly in want of it. Therefore give it to me, if ye are mindful of the benefit conferred and the service performed.” The Nāga Janmachitra said, “As this man has done me a great service, I will give him the chain, after I have asked my father and mother.” After asking his parents, he give him the chain. Thereupon the hunter, as if he had recovered himself, returned home from the Nāgas’ abode with the Amogha-chain, full of happiness and joy.
King Dhana and his wife had neither son nor daughter. It happened once that he sat, resting his cheek upon his hand, absorbed by the thought that, since he had neither son nor daughter, his family would be extinct after his death, the treasures heaped up within his house would pass into other hands, and another king would rule over all that had been his. As he sat there thus absorbed in meditation, the Śramaṇas and Brahmans, his friends, companions, and kinsmen, asked him why he was so downcast. When he had fully explained the whole matter to them, they said, “Be pleased to pray to the gods. Then will a son be born unto you.” As he had no son, but desired to have one, he prayed to Śiva and Varuṇa, to Kuvera and Vasudeva, and so forth, also to various other gods, to the gods of the parks, the gods of the forest, the gods of the crossways, the gods of the [[51]]three ways, the gods who accept oblations, the ever-accompanying gods, and the gods like-minded and identical in date of birth. It is generally said that sons and daughters are born in consequence of such prayers, not otherwise; a thousand sons, for instance, may be born to a world-ruling prince when such prayers have been offered.
Praying in such a manner, Dhana obtained a hearing, and a Bodisat of the Bhadrakalpa entered into the womb of his good spouse. Some women who are endowed with insight possess five peculiar characteristics, one of which is that they know whether their child will be a boy or a girl. If it is a boy, it clings to the right side, and if a girl, to the left. Full of joy, spake the queen to her husband, “O lord, as the living being which has entered within me clings to the right side, and will certainly be a boy, therefore rejoice.”