The Hungry Tigress
This is another story from the Jataka Tales which are stories of the Buddha's
previous lives as a Bodhisattva. This one is entitled The Hungry Tigress. It goes like
this:
"Once there was a great king named Maharatha and he had three fine
sons, Mahapranada, Mahadeva and Mahasattva. As they walked in the
forest one day, the three princes came upon a tigress and her seven
cubs. Exhausted by hunger and thirst, the tigress was hardly able to
move and looked as if she would soon die. The three brothers were
greatly disturbed by the sight of this poor tigress and wondered what
they could do. Of the three, Mahasattva was moved to great
compassion and asked his brothers to leave him a while.
When they were gone, Mahasattva laid himself down in front of the
tigress, hoping she would feed and drink on his body. But she was too
weak. Realizing this, Mahasattva took a piece of sharp bamboo and slit
his own throat, making it easy for the tigress to feed on his blood and
thereafter eat his flesh."
Now, the moral of this story isn't that we should go round slitting our throats at the
drop of a hat! Human life is precious and should always be treated with great
respect. What this story does illustrate, however, is that compassion - demonstrated
here in the giving of one's own precious life for another - is one of the prime
Buddhist virtues, something to be developed in our daily lives in less dramatic ways
than illustrated in the story.
The Preacher of Patience
The Jataka Tales are stories of the Buddha previous lives as a Bodhisattva. One of
the more gory ones is one entitled The Preacher of Patience. It goes like this:
"Once there was an ascetic named Kshantivadin renowned for the
perfection of his moral conduct and for his spiritual attainments. He
spent his time in the middle of a forest deep in meditation, harming
no-one. One day the king decided to take a stroll in the forest, taking
with him his harem. After a while, the king decided to take a nap,
leaving his women to roam the forest unattended.
When they came across Kshantivadin they were filled with awe - never
had they met anyone with such an aura of calm and stillness! He
greeted them and before long began to instruct them in the Dhamma
or teachings.
When the king awoke and found this ascetic speaking with his women,
he was mightily annoyed. In fact he was annoyed to such an extent
that he took out his sword and cut off Kshantivadin's right hand.
When Kshantivadin failed to react, the king cut off his other hand, and
when the ascetic still remained calm, the king cut off his arms, ear,
nose and feet! But still there was no show of fear or anger in the
ascetic. All he felt was great compassion for undoubtedly the king
would suffer intensely in the future as a result of his bad deeds.
And this is what happened. Almost at once the earth divided and the
great king was swallowed up. In contrast, Kshantivadin ascended into
one of the Buddhist heavens as a reward for his patience."
Clearly this story has a moral - don't give in to anger, practice patience, act with
compassion in the face of provocation, insult and injury! Not always easy to put into
practice for sure, but definitely a high ideal worth striving for.
The Banyan Deer
This story is about selflessness and the ultimate act of selflesness which is to offer up
one's own life for the sake of another.
The Bodhisattva (that is, the Buddha in his previous life) was once born as a handsome
deer, with eyes like jewels and a coat that shone like silver. He was King of the Banyan
deer, of which there were five hundred in total. There was also another deer, equally as
handsome, who was King of the Branch deer of which there were also five hundred.
Now the King of Benares at that time liked nothing more than to hunt. He liked it so
much in fact that he would bring all his subjects together to join him in his hunting trips.
This caused problems, however, as they had to interrupt their daily work every time the
King decided to go hunting.
Consequently, they got together and rounded up all the deer, both Banyan and Branch,
and brought them to the King's enclosed gardens.
Now the King could take his pick of the deer whenever he wanted without the need to
involve his subjects.
From time to time, therefore, the King would shoot a deer, or get his cook to shoot one.
But there were two deer, who, because of their outstanding elegance, he refused to shoot.
These were the two Kings of the herd who were thereby granted immunity. When the
other deer would see the bow and arrows they would run for their lives but inevitably one
would be wounded by two or three arrows and then die.
To avoid this unnecessary wounding the King of the Banyan deer (the Bodhisattva)
called the the King of the Branch deer and suggested that a deer from each herd would go
forth alternately to be killed. In this way, needless suffering resulting from deer being
wounded would be avoided. The King of the Branch deer agreed. So the cook would
come and execute the deer whose turn it was, first from one herd and then from the other.
And so it proceeded until one day it was the turn of a pregnant doe of the Branch herd to
be executed. She begged the King of the Branch deer to be released from her turn,
arguing that not one but two deer would end up being slaughtered. But he would not hear
anything of it, insisting that she must accept her fate like any other. She then went to the
King of the Banyan deer and put forward her case once again.
He told her not to worry, saying, 'I will go to the place of execution instead of you'. But
when he laid his head on the block, the cook was thrown into a quandary. Was not this
one of the deer to whom the King of Benares had granted immunity?
The cook ran to the King and told him what had transpired. The King came at once and
asked the King of the Banyan deer to explain what it was all about. The latter explained
that he could not allow the pregnant doe to die and had offered his own life instead.
The King of Benares was astonished, having never witnessed such an act of charity, love
and pity before. He was so impressed in fact that he spared the life of not only the King
of the Banyan deer but the doe too.
'But what about the lives of the other deer, or the lives of four-footed creatures or twofooted creatures, or birds or even fish for that matter?' asked the King of the Banyan deer
'I will spare their lives too,' replied the King.
In this way, through his own selflessness, the King of the Banyan deer brought the
slaughter of animals to an end.