Once upon a time, the son of Brahmadatta was ruling righteously in Benares, in northern India. It came to pass that the King of Kosala made war, killed the King of Benares, and made the queen become his own wife.
Meanwhile, the queen’s son escaped by sneaking away through the sewers. In the countryside he eventually raised a large army and surrounded the city. He sent a message to the king, the murderer of his father and the husband of his mother. He told him to surrender the kingdom or fight a battle.
The prince’s mother, the Queen of Benares, heard of this threat from her son. She was a gentle and kind woman who wanted to prevent violence and suffering and killing. So she sent a message to her son — “There is no need for the risks of battle. It would be wiser to close every entrance to the city. Eventually the lack of food, water and firewood will wear down the citizens. Then they will give the city to you without any fighting.”
The prince decided to follow his mother’s wise advice. His army blockaded the city for seven days and nights. Then the citizens captured their unlawful king, cut off his head, and delivered it to the prince. He entered the city triumphantly and became the new King of Benares.
In the ancient Dunhuang Grottoes of China, a mesmerizing love story unfolds, delicately captured in murals that have withstood the test of time. Let us immerse ourselves in this enchanting tale of kindness, courage, and wisdom.
Once upon a time, in the Kingdom of Polo, a joyous occasion marked the birth of a prince named Sunwoo. Born to the noble king and queen after twelve years of fervent prayers, the young prince brought immense happiness to the royal family.
As Sunwoo grew, so did his wisdom and kindness. His presence was a beacon of light, radiating love and compassion. However, alongside him was a stepbrother, an evil friend, whose heart harbored jealousy and resentment towards the virtuous prince.
The tale takes an unexpected turn when Sunwoo, driven by a desire to alleviate the suffering of his people, embarks on a perilous journey to seek treasures from the sea. His selflessness touches the hearts of many, but it also ignites the envy of his malevolent stepbrother.
Prince Sunwoo accompanied by 500 volunteers to search for treasur
Guided by an elderly instructor and accompanied by 500 volunteers, Sunwoo reaches Haizhou Jumbo Island. As he ventures further, facing challenges and loss, he encounters the benevolent Dragon King, who grants him the priceless Ruyi pearl.
Prince Sunwoo and his team sailed across the ocean
Meanwhile, back in the Kingdom of Polo, Sunwoo’s absence is keenly felt. His parents, yearning for his return, send a white goose as a messenger. The devoted goose delivers a letter revealing the Prince’s dire circumstances.
As Sunwoo’s journey unfolds, his evil stepbrother, fearing Sunwoo’s increased popularity upon return, decides to sabotage him. The malicious act blinds Sunwoo, leaving him vulnerable and alone.
In his darkest hour, a compassionate cowherd boy comes to Sunwoo’s aid. Unaware of his royal identity, the boy rescues Sunwoo and becomes his loyal companion, leading him back to the kingdom.
The love story takes an unexpected twist when the blind Sunwoo, reduced to a beggar, meets a kind princess during his wanderings. The princess was very touched by Sunwoo’s music. Her genuine affection and determination to marry him, despite societal norms, lead to a grand wedding.
In a poignant moment, the princess, deeply in love, makes a solemn vow. She promises to restore Sunwoo’s sight if her love is true and vows to take away her own eyes if she ever betrays him. Miraculously, her unwavering love restores one of Sunwoo’s eyes.
The narrative weaves through twists and turns, revealing the complex interplay of good and evil, karma, and ultimate redemption. Sunwoo’s evil stepbrother, realizing the consequences of his actions, repents and reveals the hidden Ruyi pearl.
In a grand reunion, Sunwoo’s parents regain their sight, and the entire kingdom is bathed in prosperity. The murals in Dunhuang and Kaihua Temple immortalize this timeless love story, showcasing not only the artistic brilliance of ancient China but also the enduring power of kindness and virtue.
As we reflect on this captivating tale, may it inspire us to embrace compassion, navigate life’s challenges with wisdom, and believe in the transformative power of love and redemption. The Dunhuang Grottoes stand as a testament to the rich tapestry of human stories etched in history, inviting us to cherish the enduring lessons embedded in their ancient walls.
Once upon a time, the Enlightenment Being was born into a rich high-class family in Kasi, in northern India. He grew to young manhood and completed his education. Then he gave up ordinary desires and left the everyday world. He became a holy man and went to live by himself in the Himalayan forests. He meditated for a long time, developed high mental powers, and was filled with inner happiness.
Having run out of salt, one day he came down to the city of Benares. He spent the night in the royal garden. In the morning he washed himself, tied his tangled hair knot on top of his head, and dressed in a black antelope skin. He folded up the robe made of red bark, which he usually wore. Then he went to the city to collect almsfood.
When he arrived at the palace gate, King Brahmadatta was walking back and forth on his terrace. When he saw the humble looking holy man, he thought. There is such a thing as perfect calm, this man must have found it!” He had his servants bring him into the palace.
The holy man was seated on a luxurious couch and was fed the very best foods. He thanked the king. The king said, “You are welcome to live in my royal garden permanently. I will provide the ‘Four Necessities’ — food, clothing, shelter and medicine. In so doing I may gain merit leading to rebirth in a heaven world.”
The holy man accepted this kind offer. He spent the next sixteen years living in the royal garden of Benares. During that time he taught all in the king’s family, and received the Four Necessities from the king.
One day King Brahmadatta decided he must go to a frontier area and put down a revolt. Before leaving he ordered his queen to care for the needs of the holy man. Her name was Queen Tenderhearted.
She prepared food every day for the holy man. Then one day he was late in arriving for his meal. While waiting, Queen Tenderhearted refreshed herself in a perfumed bath, dressed in fine clothes and jewellery, and lay down on the couch.
Meanwhile the Enlightenment Being had been meditating in a particularly joyful mental state. When he realised what time it was, he used the power of his mental purity to fly through the air to the palace.
When Queen Tenderhearted heard the rustling sound made by his bark robe, she rose up suddenly from her couch. In so doing, her blouse accidentally slipped down for a moment — and the holy man glimpsed her from the window as he entered. He was surprised by the unusual sight of the queen’s great beauty.
Desire, which had been subdued but not erased, rose within him. It was just like a cobra rises, spreading his hood, from the basket in which it is kept. His desire lost its purity. He was wounded, like a crow with a broken wing.
The holy man could not eat his food. He took it back to his temple dwelling in the royal garden, and put it under his bed. His mind was enslaved by the sight of the beauty of Queen Tenderhearted. His heart was burning with desire. He remained on his bed, without eating or drinking, for the next seven days.
Finally the king arrived home again. He circled the city and then went directly to see the holy man in the garden temple. Seeing him lying in bed, he thought he was sick. He cleaned out the temple and sat down next to him. He began massaging his feet, and asked, “Reverend sir, what happened to you? Are you sick?”
The holy man replied, “Oh great king, my sickness is that I am caught in the chains of desire.” “What is it you desire?” asked the king. “Queen Tenderhearted, my lord.” “Your reverence,” said the king, “I will give Tenderhearted to you. Come with me.”
When they arrived at the palace, King Brahmadatta had his queen dressed in her finest clothing and jewellery. Then he secretly told her to help the unfortunate holy man regain his purity. She replied. “I know what to do, my lord, I will save him.” Then the king gave her away and she left the palace with the holy man.
After they passed through the main gate she said, “We must have a house to live in. Go back and ask the king for one.” He returned and asked the king for a house. The king gave them a tiny run-down hut that people used as an outhouse.
The holy man took the queen to their new home, but she refused to go inside. He asked her why. She said, “Because it’s filthy! Go back to the king and get a shovel and basket.” He obeyed and when he returned she ordered him to do all the cleaning. He even had to plaster the walls and floor with fresh cow dung!
Then she commanded him to go to the palace and get her a bed. Then a chair. Then a lamp, bed linen, a cooking pot, a water pot. She ordered him to get all these things one at a time, and he obeyed dutifully. She sent him to get water for her bath and many other things. He set out the water for her bath and then made up the bed. Finally they sat down next to each other on the bed. Suddenly she grabbed him by the whiskers, shook him back and forth, pulled him towards her and said, “Don’t you remember that you are a holy man and a priest?”
Only then was he shocked out of his mad infatuation and made to realise who he was. Having regained his self-awareness, he thought, “Oh what a pitiful state I have fallen into. I have been blinded by my desire into becoming a slave. Beginning with only the sight of a woman, this mad craving could lead me into a hell world. My body was burning, as if I’d been shot in the heart with an arrow of desire. But there was no bleeding wound! Not seeing her body as it really was, my own foolishness caused all my suffering!”
Then he spoke out loudly, “On this very day I will return the wise Queen Tenderhearted to the noble King Brahmadatta. Then I will fly back to my forest home!”
After taking her back, he said to the king, “I don’t want your queen anymore. Before I had her, she was my one desire. After I got her, one desire led to another endlessly, leading only to hell.”
The wise Queen Tenderhearted, by using her intelligence and knowledge of life, had given a great gift to the holy man. Rather than taking advantage of his weakness, she had restored his purity.
In perfect calm the Enlightenment Being rose into the air, preached to the king, and then magically flew to the Himalayan forests. He never again returned to the ordinary world. After meditating for years in peace and joy, he died and was reborn in a high heaven world.
“The Story of the Nine-Colored Deer King” is the main theme of the murals in Cave 257 of the Mogao Caves. It unfolds in a long horizontal scroll, narrating many stories from the past life of the founder of Buddhism, Siddhartha Gautama.
Legend has it that long ago, on the banks of the Ganges River in India, there lived a beautiful and kind nine-colored deer king (the previous incarnation of Siddhartha Gautama)…
One day, as the nine-colored deer king was leisurely strolling by the river, he suddenly heard a pitiful cry from the water. Without hesitation, the brave nine-colored deer leaped into the river, risking its own safety, and rescued the drowning person. The saved individual, overwhelmed with gratitude for a second chance at life, repeatedly bowed in thanks to the nine-colored deer.
The nine-colored deer king said, “No need for thanks; just go on your way. My only request is that you do not reveal my whereabouts to anyone.” The drowning person solemnly swore, “Kind benefactor, rest assured. If I ever betray this promise, may my body be covered in sores and my mouth emit a foul odor.” With that, the person departed.
Before long, the queen of that country dreamt of a deer—one with nine colors and silver-like antlers. She told the king about her dream and requested that he order the capture of such a deer. She had a strong desire to use its colorful hide for clothing and its antlers for earrings. Consequently, the king issued a proclamation and offered a substantial reward.
Upon seeing the proclamation, the person who had been saved reported to the king, leading soldiers to the mountain to hunt down the nine-colored deer.
When the nine-colored deer was surrounded by the king’s troops… it spotted the person it had rescued from drowning, tears of sorrow welled up in its eyes…
The nine-colored deer leaped in front of the king and recounted the story of how it had saved the person from drowning and how that person had broken his promise. The king and the soldiers were deeply moved by the deer’s account. The king ordered the soldiers to clear a path, allowing the nine-colored deer to regain its freedom. He also issued a decree: “From now on, people are not allowed to shoot deer.”
As for the person who had broken his promise, in an instant, sores covered his body, and a foul odor emanated from his mouth. From that moment on, he was despised and reviled by the people.
The story of the nine-colored deer is vividly portrayed in Cave 257 of the Dunhuang Grottoes, which is what we now see as “The Story of the Nine-Colored Deer King.” While the mural is not particularly large in size, it holds significant importance in Chinese art history.
This artwork takes the form of a horizontal scroll with the story unfolding from both ends and converging in the middle. It consists of multiple scenes depicting various stages of the story, such as its origin, development, climax, and conclusion, all seamlessly connected to create a cohesive narrative.
“The Story of the Nine-Colored Deer King” is composed of nine panels, illustrating five key plot points: the person drowning, the nine-colored deer rescuing the drowning person, the drowning person expressing gratitude to the deer, the queen’s desire to capture the deer, the informant revealing the deer’s whereabouts to the king, and the confrontation between the king and the deer.
The story progresses from both ends of the mural towards the center, placing the pivotal conversation between the king and the deer in the middle. This unique composition style captures the essence of continuous horizontal scroll art from the Wei and Jin dynasties, showcasing the distinctive historical aesthetics of the era.
In the artwork, the depiction of mountains, rocks, and rivers occupies a significant portion. The rendering of the landscape primarily serves to fill the space and delineate the composition, providing a brief description of the specific environment, thereby enhancing the visual impact of the artwork and its storytelling function.
“The Story of the Nine-Colored Deer King” places the climax of the story—the moment when the nine-colored deer recounts the events—at the center of the composition. At the same time, both nine-colored deer on the left and right sides turn their bodies toward the center, serving as visual guides.
This is precisely the turning point in the storyline of the nine-colored deer, where the drowning person’s affliction receives its retribution. It places the Buddhist concept of rewarding goodness and punishing evil at the visual forefront, narrating the sequence of events step by step to gradually reveal the story’s progression to the viewer.
The entire process is rhythmic, marked by the ebb and flow of the narrative, skillfully aligning the chronological order with the spatial arrangement, showcasing the artist’s unique conceptualization of the composition.
In terms of color usage, “The Story of the Nine-Colored Deer King” appears to be very vibrant, but in reality, it uses a limited color palette, consisting of only six colors. The earthy red color dominates the entire painting, which is a prominent color characteristic of the Wei, Jin, Northern and Southern Dynasties period.
Complementing this are touches of stone blue and stone green, along with the harmonious blending of black, white, and gray. This blending softens the strong contrast between earthy red and stone green and blue, achieving a harmonious contrast of warm and cool tones. At the same time, it also accentuates the brightness of contrasting colors.
The introduction of Buddhism had a significant impact on the development of portraiture in China, introducing a set of strict conventions for Buddhist iconography. During the Northern Wei dynasty, the Dunhuang murals began to emphasize body proportions and adopted more attention to three-dimensionality after incorporating color shading techniques.
In “The Story of the Nine-Colored Deer King,” most of the figures on the canvas have slender bodies, with their clothing belts fluttering in the wind. Their gestures and movements exude a graceful dance-like elegance, evoking the style of figures that “float like wandering dragons and are delicate as startled swans.”
In the murals of the Northern Wei period in Dunhuang, Jataka stories are an important theme. Jataka stories refer to the countless events and experiences in the past lives of Siddhartha Gautama, who would later become the founder of Buddhism. In history, there are numerous Jataka stories related to Siddhartha Gautama.
Within Buddhist art themes, there are many Jataka story paintings, and “The Story of the Nine-Colored Deer King” is just one of them. Story paintings are used to promote the Buddhist concept of karmic retribution and to praise the spirit of self-sacrifice displayed by the Nine-Colored Deer King.
In reality, all Jataka paintings ultimately convey one message: that by performing good deeds, selflessly giving, and enduring hardships, one can achieve positive outcomes, whereas engaging in wrongful actions will lead to self-destruction.
Once upon a time, in Benares in northern India, the Enlightenment Being was born into the royal family. When he became king he was called Goodness the Great. He had earned this title by trying to do good all the time, even when the results might not benefit him. For example, he spent much of the royal treasury on the building and running of six houses of charity. In these houses good and aid were given freely to all the poor and needy who came along, even to unknown travellers. Soon King Goodness the Great became famous for his patience, loving-kindness and compassion. It was said that he loved all beings just like a father loves his young children.
Of course King Goodness observed the holy days by not eating. And naturally he practiced the ‘Five Training Steps’, giving up the five unwholesome actions. These are: destroying life, taking what is not given, doing wrong in sexual ways, speaking falsely, and losing one’s mind from alcohol. So his gentle kindness became more and more pure.
Since he wished to harm no one, King Goodness the Great even refused to imprison or injure wrongdoers. Knowing this, one of his highest ministers tried to take advantage of him. He cooked up a scheme to cheat some of the women in the royal harem. Afterwards it became known by all and was reported to the king.
He called the bad minister before him and said, ‘I have investigated and found that you have done a criminal act. Word of it has spread and you have dishonoured yourself here in Benares. So it would be better for you to go and live somewhere else. You may take all your wealth and your family. Go wherever you like and live happily there. Learn from this lesson.’
Then the minister took his family and al his belongings to the city of Kosala. Since he was very clever indeed, he worked his way up and became a minister of the king. In time he became the most trusted adviser to the King of Kosala. One day he said, ‘My lord, I came here from Benares. The city of Benares is like a beehive where the bees have no stingers! The ruling king is very tender and weak. With only a very small army you can easily conquer the city and make it yours.’
The king doubted this, so he said, “You are my minister, but you talk like a spy who is leading me into a trap!’ He replied “No my lord. If you don’t believe me, send your best spies to examine what I say. I am not lying. When robbers are brought to the King of Benares, he gives them money, advises them not to take what is not given, and then lets them go free,”
The king decided to find out if this was true. So he sent some robbers to raid a remote border village belonging to Benares. The villagers caught the looters and brought them to King Goodness the Great. He asked them, “Why do you want to do this type of crime?”
The robbers answered, “Your worship, we are poor people. There is no way to live without money. As your kingdom has plenty of workers, there is no work for us to do. So we had to loot the country in order to survive.” Hearing this, the king gave them gifts of money, advised them to change their ways, and let them go free.
When the King of Kosala was told of this, he sent another gang of bandits to the streets of Benares itself. They too looted the shops and even killed some of the people. When they were captured and brought to king Goodness, he treated them just the same as the first robbers.
Learning of this, the King of Kosala began marching his troops and elephants towards Benares.
In those days the King of Benares had a mighty army which included very brave elephants. There were many ordinary soldiers, and also some that were as big as giants. It was known that they were capable of conquering all India.
The giant soldiers told King Goodness about the small invading army from Kosala. They asked permission to attack and kill them all.
But King Goodness the Great would not send them into battle. He said, “My children, do not fight just so I may remain king. If we destroy the lives of others we also destroy our own peace of mind. Why should we kill others? Let them have the kingdom if they want it so badly. I do not wish to fight.”
The royal ministers said, “Our Lord, we will fight them ourselves. Don’t worry yourself. Only give us the order.” But again he prevented them.
Meanwhile the King of Kosala sent him a warning, telling him to give up the kingdom or fight. King Goodness the Great sent this reply: “I do not want you to fight with me, and you do not want me to fight with you. If you want the country, you can have it. Why should we kill people just to decide the name of the king? What does it matter even the name of the country itself?”
Hearing this, the ministers came forward and pleaded, “Our Lord, let us go out with our mighty army. We will beat them with our weapons and capture them all. We are much stronger than they are. We would not have to kill any of them. And besides, if we surrender the city, the enemy army would surely kill us all!”
But King Goodness would not be moved. He refused to cause harm to anyone. He replied, “Even if you do not wish to kill, by fighting many will be injured. By accident some may die. No one knows the future – whether our attackers will kill us or not. But we do know whether our present actions are right or wrong. Therefore I will not harm, or cause others to harm, any living being!”
Then King Goodness ordered the city gates be opened up for the invaders. He took his ministers to the top floor of the palace and advised them, “Say nothing and try to remain calm.”
The King of Kosala entered the city of Benares and saw that no one was against him. So he and his soldiers entered and went up to the top floor. They capture the innocent King Goodness the Great. The soldiers tied the hands of the defeated king and all of his ministers.
Then they were taken to the cemetery outside the city. They were buried up to their necks, standing straight up, with only their heads above ground. But even while the dirt was being trampled down around his neck, the Great Being remained without anger in his mind and said nothing.
Their discipline and obedience to King Goodness were so great that not a single minister spoke a word against anyone. But the King of Kosala had no mercy. He said roughly, “Come night time, let the jackals do as they please!”
And so it came to pass that, at midnight, a large band of jackals wandered into the cemetery. They could smell a feast of human flesh waiting for them.
Seeing them coming, King Goodness and his ministers shouted all at once and scared the jackals away. Twice more this happened. Then the clever jackals realised, “These men must have been put here for us to kill and eat.” No longer afraid, they ignored the shouts. The jackal king walked right up to the face of King Goodness.
The king offered his throat to the beast. But before he could bite into him, the king grabbed the jackal’s chin with his teeth. No harming him, King Goodness gripped him tightly so the jackal king howled in fear. This frightened his followers and they all ran away.
Meanwhile the jackal king thrashed back and forth, trying madly to free himself from the might jaws of the human king. In so doing, he loosened the dirt packed around the king’s neck and shoulders. Then King Goodness released the screaming jackal. He was able to wiggle himself free from the loosened earth and pull himself up onto the ground. Then he freed all his frightened ministers.
Nearby there was a dead body. It just so happened that it was lying on the border of the territories claimed by two rival demons. They were arguing over the division of the body, insulting each other in ways that only demons can.
Then one demon said to the other, “Why should we continue quarrelling instead of eating? Right over there is King Goodness the Great of Benares. He is famous in all worlds for his righteousness. He will divide the dead body for us.
They dragged the body to the king and asked him to divide it between them fairly. He said, ‘My friends, I would be glad to divide this for you. But I am filthy and dirty, I must clean myself first.”
The two demons used their magic powers to bring scented water, perfume, clothing, ornaments and flowers from the king’s own palace in Benares. He bathed, perfumed himself, dressed, and covered himself with ornaments and flower garlands.
The demons asked King Goodness if there was anything else they could do. He replied that he was hungry. So, again by their magic powers, the demons brought the most delicious flavoured rice in a golden bowl and perfumed drinking water in a golden cup — also from the royal palace in Benders.
When he was satisfied, king Goodness asked them to bring him the sword of state from the pillow of the King of Kosala, who was sleeping in the palace in Benares. With magic that too was easily done. Then the king used the sword to cut the dead boy into two halves, right down the spine. He washed the sword of state and strapped it to his side.
The hungry demons happily gobbled up the fairly divided dead body. Then they gratefully said to King Goodness, “Now that our bellies are full, is there anything else we can do to please you?”
He replied, “By your magic, set me in my own bedroom in the palace next to the King of Kosala. In addition, put all these my ministers back in their homes.” Without a word, the demons did exactly as the king had asked.
At that moment the King of Kosala was fast asleep in the royal bedchamber. King Goodness the Great gently touched the belly of the sleeping king with the sword of state. The king awoke in great surprise. In the dim lamplight he was frightened to see King Goodness leaning over him with sword in hand. He had to rub his eyes to make sure he was not having a nightmare!”
Then he asked the great king, “My lord how did you come here in spite of all my guards? You were buried up to your neck in the cemetery — how is it you are spotlessly clean, sweet smelling, dressed in your own royal robes, and decorated with fine jewellery and the loveliest flowers?”
King Goodness told him the story of his escape from the band of jackals. He told of the two demons that came to him to settle their quarrel. And he told how they gratefully helped him with their magic powers.
On hearing this, the King of Kosala was overcome by his own shame. He bowed his head to King Goodness the Great and cried, “Oh great king, the stupid ferocious demons, who live by eating the flesh and drinking the blood of dead bodies — they recognised your supreme goodness. But I, who was lucky enough to be born as an intelligent and civilised human being — I have been too foolish to see how wonderful your pure goodness is.
“I promise never again to plot against you, my lord —- you who have gained such perfect harmlessness. And I promise to serve you forever as the truest of friends. Please forgive me, great king.” Then, as if he were a servant, the King of Kosala laid King Goodness the Great down on the royal bed, while he himself lay on a small couch.
The next day the King of Kosala called all his soldiers into the palace courtyard. There he publicly praised the king of Benares and asked his forgiveness once again. He gave back the kingdom and promised that he would always protect King Goodness. Then he punished his adviser, the criminal minister, and returned to Kosala with all his troops and elephants.
King Goodness the Great was sitting majestically on his golden throne, with its legs like those of a gazelle. He was shaded from the sun by the pure white royal umbrella. He taught his loyal subjects saying, “People of Benares wholesomeness begins with giving up the five unwholesome actions once and for all. The highest qualities of the good person, whether ruler or subject, are loving-kindness and compassion. Filled with these qualities, one cannot harm another —- no matter what the reason or the cost. No matter how dangerous the threat, one must persevere until the greatness of the good heart wins in the end.”
Throughout the rest of his reign, the people of Benares lived peacefully and happily. King Goodness the Great continued performing wholesome works. Eventually he died and was reborn as he deserved.
The moral is: Refusing to harm others, the good heart wins over all.
Once upon a time, there was a crane who lived near a small pond. Right next to the pond was a big tree with a fairy living in it. He learned by observing the various animals.
There were also many small fish living in the small pond. The crane was in the habit of picking up fish with his beak and eating them. Since there happened to be a drought in the area, the water level in the pond was becoming lower and lower. This made it easier for the crane to catch fish. In fact, he was even getting to be a little fat!
However, the crane discovered that no matter how easy it was to catch fish, and no matter how many he ate, he was never completely satisfied. But he did not learn from this. Instead, he decided that if he ate all the fish in the pond, then he would find true happiness. “The more the merrier!” he said to himself.
In order to catch all the fish in the pond, the crane thought up a clever plan. He would trick the fish, and deceive them into trusting him. Then when they trusted him the most, he would gobble them up. He was very pleased with himself for thinking up such a trick.
To begin with, the crane sat down on the shore. He remained quietly in one position, just like a holy man in the forest. This was intended to get the fish to trust him.
The fish came to him and asked. “Sir crane, what are you thinking?” The holy-looking crane answered, “Oh my dear fish, it makes me sad to think of your future. I am thinking about the coming miserable disaster.”
They said, “My lord, what disaster is coming to us?” To which the crane replied, “Look around you! There is very little water left in this pond. You are also running out of food to eat. This severe drought is very dangerous for you poor little ones.”
Then the fish asked, “Dear uncle crane, what can we do to save ourselves?” “My poor little children,” said the crane, “you must trust me and do as I say. If you allow me to pick you up in my beak, I will take you, one at a time to another pond. That pond is much bigger than this one. It is filled with water and covered with lovely lotuses. It will be like a paradise for you!”
When they heard the part about the beak, the fish became a little suspicious. They said, “Mr. Crane, how can we believe you? Since the beginning of the world, there has never been a crane who wanted to help fish. Cranes have put fish in their beaks only to eat them. This must be a trick. Or else you must be joking!”
The crane then raised his head and made himself look as dignified as possible. He said, “Please don’t think such a thing. Can’t you see that I am a very special crane? You should trust me. But if you don’t believe me, send one fish with me and I will show him the beautiful pond. Then when I bring him back here, you will know I can be trusted.”
The fish said to each other, “This crane looks so dignified. He sounds like an honest crane. But just in case it’s a trick, let us send with him a useless little troublemaker fish. This will be a test.” Then they found a young fish who was known for playing hooky from school. They pushed him towards the shore.
The crane bent his head and picked up the little one in his beak. Then he spread his wings and flew to a big tree on the shore of a beautiful big pond. Just as he had said, it was covered with lovely lotuses. The fish was amazed to see such a wonderful place. Then the crane carried him back to his poor old pond, just as he had promised.
Arriving home, the little fish described the wonders of the beautiful big pond. Hearing this, all the other fish became very excited and rushed to be the first to go.
The first lucky passenger was that same useless little troublemaker. Again the crane picked him up in his beak and flew to the big tree on the shore of the beautiful new pond. The little one was sure the helpful crane was about to drop him into the wonderful pond. But instead, the crane suddenly killed him, gobbled up his flesh, and let the bones fall to the ground.
The crane returned to the old pond, brought the next little fish to the same tree, and ate him in the same way. Likewise, one by one, he gobbled up every last fish!
He became so stuffed with fish meat that he had trouble flying back to the little pond. He saw that there were no more fish left for him to trick and eat. Then he noticed a lonely crab crawling along the muddy shore. And he realized that he was still not completely satisfied!
So he walked over to the crab and said, “My dear crab, I have kindly carried all the fish to a wonderful big pond not far from here. Why do you wish to remain here alone? If you simply do as the fish have done, and let me pick you up in my beak, I will gladly take you there. For your own good, please trust me.”
But the crab thought, “There is no doubt this over-stuffed crane has eaten all those fish. His belly is so full he can hardly stand up straight. He definitely cannot be trusted! If I can get him to carry me to a new pond and put me in it, so much the better. But if he tries to eat me, I will have to cut off his head with my sharp claws.”
Then the crab said, “My friend crane, I am afraid I am much too heavy for you to carry in your beak. You would surely drop me along the way. Instead, I will grab onto your neck with my eight legs, and then you can safely carry me to my new home.”
The crane was so used to playing tricks on others, that he did not imagine he would be in any danger — even though the crab would be grasping him by the throat. Instead he thought, “Excellent! This will give me a chance to eat the sweet meat of this foolish trusting crab.”
So the crane permitted the crab to grab onto his neck with all eight legs. In addition, he grasped the crane’s neck with his sharp claws. He said, “Now kindly take me to the new pond.”
The foolish crane, with his neck in the clutches of the crab, flew to the same big tree next to the new pond.
Then the crab said, “Hey you stupid crane, have you lost your way? You have not taken me to the pond. Why don’t you take me to the shore and put me in?”
The crane said, “Who are you calling stupid? I don’t have to take that from you. You’re not my relative. I suppose you thought you tricked me into giving you a free ride. But I’m the clever one. Just look at all those fish bones under this tree. I’ve eaten all the fish, and now I’m going to eat you too, you stupid crab!”
The crab replied, “Those fish were eaten because they were foolish enough to trust you. But no one would trust you now. Because you tricked the fish, you have become so conceited you think you can trick anyone. But you can’t fool me. I have you by the throat. So if one dies, we both die!”
Then the crane realized the danger he was in. He begged the crab, “Oh my lord crab, please release me. I have learned my lesson. You can trust me. I have no desire to eat such a handsome crab as you.”
Then he flew down to the shore and continued, “Now please release me. For your own good, please trust me.”
But this old crab had been around. He realized the crane could not be trusted no matter what he said. He knew that if he let go of the crane, he would be eaten for sure. So he cut through his neck with his claws, just like a knife through butter! And the crane’s head fell on the ground. Then the crab crawled safely into the wonderful pond.
Meanwhile, the inquisitive fairy had also come to the new pond and seen all that had happened. Sitting on the very top of the big tree, he said for all the gods to hear:
“The one who lived by tricks and lies, No longer trusted now he dies.”
The moral is: The trickster who can’t be trusted, has played his last trick.
The Buddha recounted this tale in response to a dispute between two monks, highlighting the destructive nature of harsh words. Gathering a large group in the monastery hall at Jetavana, he addressed them, saying:
“Monks and nuns, even animals suffer unhappiness due to harsh words. Allow me to share with you a story from ancient times, when bitter words caused a farmer to lose his fortune.”
Once, in a bygone era, the Future Buddha manifested as a bull and was gifted to a farmer. Overjoyed, the farmer named the young calf “Great Joy” and treated him like his own child. He provided the bull with the best rice and milk, fostering his growth. Great Joy flourished and became a mighty ox, black as the night sky and as radiant as the stars. Despite his immense strength, he remained gentle and obedient.
After years of tender care, Great Joy felt immense gratitude towards the farmer. He thought to himself, “The farmer has raised me with loving kindness and made great sacrifices for my well-being. He has even gone hungry at times to ensure I am well-fed. I must find a way to repay him for all his kindness!” The next morning, as the farmer brushed the bull, Great Joy spoke to him, saying, “Master, I have devised a plan to repay you for your many years of care.”
Pausing his brushing, the farmer gently placed his hand upon the bull’s large head and replied, “Great Joy, you already plow my fields, turn my well wheel, and carry heavy loads to and from the village. You work tirelessly, and there is no need for you to repay me. Do not trouble yourself with such matters.”
However, Great Joy was determined to execute his plan. “Master, please listen. I have a marvelous idea that will make you instantly wealthy. Journey to the town today and find a merchant who owns a vast herd of oxen. Make a bet with him for a thousand silver pieces, claiming that your bull is the mightiest in all of India. Wager that tomorrow morning, in the village square, your ox will draw a hundred carts overflowing with rocks, stones, and gravel!”
Skeptical, the farmer replied, “My dear friend, how could any ox in the world pull a hundred loaded carts? It has never been done before. The entire town will think I have gone mad.”
Unyielding, Great Joy persisted, “I possess the strength, and I will not let you down.”
“But what if you fail to pull such a heavy load? A thousand silver pieces comprise all I possess! If you lose, I will be left impoverished!”
Remaining steadfast, Great Joy reassured him, “I promise you, I will not let you down. I will not lose the wager, and you shall not lose your money.”
And so, the farmer followed the ox’s suggestion. He ventured to the village and positioned himself in the town square, where business transactions took place. Eventually, a wealthy merchant dressed in fine robes approached him. Seizing the opportunity, the farmer boldly proclaimed, “Did you know, gentlemen, that I am the owner of the strongest ox in the kingdom? I doubt there is a bull in all of India that can rival mine! In fact, my bull may be the largest and mightiest in the entire world!”
The crowd fell silent upon hearing his boast. All eyes turned towards the farmer. Finally, the wealthy merchant broke the silence and retorted, “It is widely known that I, sir, possess an entire herd of the world’s strongest oxen. What makes your single bull so exceptional?”
Realizing he had found the ideal opponent, the farmer promptly replied, “I have a bull capable of effortlessly pulling a hundred fully loaded carts!”
Mockingly, the merchant responded, “And where might this extraordinary bull be found? In the land of fairies and dreams?”
“He resides at my home,” answered the farmer confidently.
“Well, if you hold him in such high regard, let us make it a wager,” challenged the merchant.
“Certainly,” agreed the farmer. “I will bet you a thousand silver pieces that my bull can move one hundred carts fully loaded with rocks, stones, and gravel. Prepare the carts and meet me here in the village square at sunrise tomorrow morning.” With a firm handshake, the deal was sealed, and both parties made their preparations.
The following morning, before daybreak, the farmer fed Great Joy sweet milk and hay, bathed him, and brushed his coat until it shone. Speaking gentle and soothing words, just as he did every day, the farmer adorned the ox’s neck with a garland of flowers.
Great Joy knew the moment had arrived to prove himself.
At dawn, the farmer led Great Joy to the village square. Excited onlookers, including men, women, and children, filled the streets, eager to witness the outcome of this seemingly impossible bet. The farmer was astounded by the sight that greeted him—an unprecedented number of carts, each loaded to the brim with rocks. If any doubts lingered in the farmer’s mind, they were quickly replaced by certainty that he had been foolish to believe a mere animal’s promise.
Nevertheless, Great Joy stood proudly at the head of the line of carts, awaiting his harnessing. Magnificent and towering, his shoulders surpassing any other ox, he captured the awe of the crowd. Two men struggled to secure the heavy yoke upon his broad back, and then they attached the carts in a long chain.
Anxious, the farmer anticipated his impending humiliation before the townsfolk. Clutching the leather goad tightly, he muttered to himself, “I cannot afford to lose this wager. The ox has made a promise, but I am his master. I must ensure that he pulls the carts without fail. Ailee! I have risked my life savings on the word of a mere beast!” With determination, the farmer raised his goad and struck Great Joy forcefully, shouting, “Now, you beast, pull the carts! Pull! Pull, you rascal!”
Great Joy was taken aback by this treatment. He thought, “I am not a rascal! I am not a beast! He has never spoken to me like this before or used a whip on me. I will not move an inch!” Ignoring the lashes of the whip and the harsh words from his friend, Great Joy planted his hooves firmly, like the roots of four Banyan trees, and remained immobile.
Instantly, the crowd erupted in laughter and mockery, witnessing the farmer’s stubborn ox refusing to obey. Once again, the farmer struck Great Joy with the goad and cursed him, but the ox gazed straight ahead, disregarding the goad, the farmer, and the jeering crowd. In no time, the crowd began pelting both the farmer and the ox with mud and dung. Overwhelmed with shame, the farmer hung his head low and reluctantly handed over his entire savings to the merchant.
Jingling the coins in his hands, the merchant chuckled and said, “Whenever you wish to make another wager, seek me out! What ox could possibly pull a hundred loaded carts?” he laughed.
Despondent and penniless, the farmer unharnessed Great Joy from the line of carts and led him back home. The villagers taunted them along the way, hurling insults, rotten fruit, and mud. The farmer tied the ox to a stake and retreated inside his home, overcome with grief. “I am a pauper! It took me twenty years to earn that silver!” he wailed and moaned.
Hearing the farmer’s pained sobs from outside, Great Joy approached the window and inquired what was wrong. “I have lost all my money because of you!” the farmer bitterly exclaimed. “You promised me you wouldn’t let me down!”
Great Joy replied, “Ah, but master, it was you who let me down! Throughout all the time I have lived under your care, have I ever harmed anyone? Have I ever been clumsy or broken a pot? No. I have carried children gently on my back, even allowing the smallest of them to lead me. I have always done exactly as you asked.”
“Yes, I suppose you are right,” sniffed the farmer.
“Well, then, go once more to the town and bet the merchant double the silver. We shall meet him again in the square tomorrow morning at sunrise. But remember, treat me kindly as you always have, and I will treat you as I always have!”
Hurriedly, the farmer returned to town, found the merchant, and presented him with a new offer. Laughing at the prospect of making even more money, the merchant agreed to another wager.
At dawn the next morning, the village square mirrored the scene from the previous day. One hundred carts stood in a long line, each loaded with rocks. Once again, the streets were filled with eager spectators. Great Joy, bathed and brushed with a fresh garland around his neck, walked proudly alongside the farmer to the front of the carts. However, people chatted and joked, not taking the two participants seriously.
The weighty wooden yoke was placed upon Great Joy’s back, and the ropes were securely fastened. The farmer stood beside his ox, gently stroking his powerful shoulders. After a while, he leaned over and spoke softly into the bull’s ear, “Now, my fine fellow, my friend, pull the carts forward!”
Upon hearing these words, Great Joy seemed to grow in size. His muscles tensed, and he leaned against the ropes with all his might, causing them to tighten, cart by cart, until reaching the hundredth. Great Joy strained and pulled, taking one step and then another, each accompanied by a surge of momentum. Step by step, with unwavering determination, Great Joy continued his effort until the final cart stood exactly where the first one had started.
It was a sight to behold! Cheers and applause filled the air as flowers and money rained down upon the bull and the farmer. Great Joy, glistening with sweat, stood nobly and proudly in his place.
The merchant shook his head in disbelief but paid the two thousand silver coins as agreed. Children reached out to stroke the mighty ox, marveling at his remarkable perseverance. There was much celebration. Before the morning came to an end, the farmer and his faithful companion, Great Joy, trotted down the dusty road back home, where they lived happily and prosperously ever after.
Thus, the Buddha finished his lesson with the monks and nuns, sayingagain that harsh words please no one. And he spoke this verse in conclusion:
Speak only kind words: never be unkind.
For he who speaks gently, the ox moves the whole earth,
Jataka tales are fascinating narratives that shed light on the past lives of the Buddha. These captivating stories unveil the incarnations preceding Prince Siddhartha Gautama’s birth and illustrate the ways in which he accumulated virtuous karma through selfless acts of sacrifice.
Before his existence as Prince Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha’s soul had already amassed immense virtue from numerous previous lifetimes, embodying various selfless beings.
One remarkable representation of these Jataka tales can be found in a Dunhuang mural. Located on the eastern wall of Mogao Cave 428, this mural intricately portrays a renowned Jataka tale featuring Prince Mahasattva. The entire narrative is depicted across three registers, capturing the essence of the story within its captivating artwork.
Detail of the three princes paying their respects to the king and queen before they leave for the forest. First register, right section. Mogao Cave 428. Northern Zhou, 557-581 CE. Dunhuang. Image courtesy of the Dunhuang Academy.
The mural commences on the right-hand side of the first register, where a captivating scene unfolds. Three young men, their hands pressed together in a gesture of genuflection, kneel before a majestic blue pagoda. Inside the pagoda, two figures exuding regal aura can be identified as the king and queen, bidding a heartfelt farewell to their sons, the three young men.
As the story progresses, the mural transitions to subsequent scenes, unveiling the brothers’ journey into the forest for a hunting expedition. Within this vibrant forest setting, an array of deer and tigers roam, coexisting with the majestic presence of towering trees and majestic mountain ranges. The undulating mountains, adorned with a multitude of colors, gracefully assume a smaller scale compared to the trees, animals, and human figures, harmoniously framing each scene of the narrative.
Detail of the three princes hunting in the forest. First register, middle section. Mogao Cave 428. Northern Zhou, 557-581 CE. Dunhuang. Image courtesy of the Dunhuang Academy.
The story unfolds on the second register, commencing from the left-hand side. As the three brothers venture deeper into the forest, they eventually dismount from their horses, seeking respite at the foothills of towering mountains.
While taking a moment to rest, the brothers catch sight of a tigress accompanied by seven adorable cubs. The tigress is portrayed with her mouth agape, and her painted figure exudes a somber aura with limbs hanging low. Her gaze fixates upon the playful cubs frolicking around her, creating an illusion of impending maternal aggression, as if she were poised to devour her own offspring.
Detail of the starving tigress and her baby cubs. Second register, middle-left section. Mogao Cave 428. Northern Zhou, 557-581 CE. Dunhuang. Image courtesy of the Dunhuang Academy.
The brothers convene to discuss the matter of the tigress. Not wanting to watch a mother devour her own children, the brothers resolve to help her find food. However, there does not appear to be any food nearby.
Prince Mahasattva suddenly comes up with an idea. He keeps it to himself and tells his two brothers to leave the forest to find some food while he stays behind to watch over the tigers.
After his brothers leave, Prince Mahasattva strips off his clothes and lies down in front of the tigress, offering himself to the tigress. He decides to offer himself as food for the tigress so that she wouldn’t have to eat her own children.
The tigress sniffs at his body but makes no move to harm him even though she is starving.
When we offer help to someone and they are unable to accept what is offered, it’s a chance for us to feel good about having attempted goodness without losing anything. We can think to ourselves, well, we tried to help. In the case of Prince Mahasattva, he understood that good intentions alone would not save a life. It would take determined and complete self-sacrifice to save the tigers.
Realizing that the tigers will not eat him alive, Prince Mahasattva climbs to the edge of a cliff, cuts open his neck and throws himself off the ledge. With his neck bleeding profusely, his body drops in front of the tigress and her cubs. At Prince Mahasattva’s second attempt to offer his body, the tigers devour him as nourishment.
Detail of the Prince Mahasattva’s sacrifices to the tigers. Second register, right section. Mogao Cave 428. Northern Zhou, 557-581 CE. Dunhuang. Image courtesy of the Dunhuang Academy.
Snaking across and down the three registers, the story continues on the third register by beginning on the right-hand side again. Prince Mahasattva’s brothers return and they understand what happened in their absence when they see the bones left behind by the tigress and her cubs.
The brothers’ bodies contort across the scene in shock, anguish, and grief in reaction to the death of their third sibling.
Detail of the grieving brothers and their return to the palace. Third register. Mogao Cave 428. Northern Zhou, 557-581 CE. Dunhuang. Image courtesy of the Dunhuang Academy.
The two brothers practically fly back to the palace on their horses to tell the king about what happened to Prince Mahasattva.
The story actually ends on the topmost right corner of this image, returning to the place where the two princes found their brother’s corpse. After reporting to the king, the family builds a stupa over Prince Mahasattva’s bones and hair to commemorate his selfless actions.
Detail of the brothers building a stupa over Prince Mahasattva’s remains. Third register. Mogao Cave 428. Northern Zhou, 557-581 CE. Dunhuang. Image courtesy of the Dunhuang Academy.
Many of the Mogao caves at Dunhuang have central pillars that take after the stupa form.
Scholars have theorized that worshippers could have circumambulated these central pillars inside the Mogao caves at Dunhuang as one would do around stupas in the open air.
The central pillar in Mogao Cave 428. Northern Zhou dynasty. 557-581 CE. Dunhuang. Image courtesy of the Dunhuang Academy.
Once there was a poor woodcutter who found a wounded dragon snake in the mountains. The woodcutter kindly nursed the dragon snake back to health and later released it into a hole in the mountain. There, a precious ganoderma lucidum grew, which the dragon snake protected day and night.
One day, the emperor fell ill and needed ganoderma lucidum to cure his disease. He offered a heavy reward for anyone who could provide it. The woodcutter remembered the dragon snake and went back to the mountain to find it. The dragon snake, grateful for the woodcutter’s kindness, gave him the ganoderma lucidum. The woodcutter presented it to the emperor, who gave him a lot of gold and silver as a reward.
The woodcutter now lived a life of luxury but was not satisfied. He wanted to become an official and saw an opportunity when the queen lost her sight. The emperor announced that whoever could restore her sight with the eye of a dragon snake would become the prime minister. The woodcutter remembered the dragon snake again and begged for its help. The snake allowed the woodcutter to take one of its eyes with huge pain, which the woodcutter presented to the emperor. The queen’s sight was restored, and the woodcutter was made prime minister.
However, the woodcutter’s greed was insatiable. When the princess fell ill, and the dragon snake’s liver were needed to heal her, the woodcutter asked for the dragon snake once again. The dragon snake, wanting to repay the woodcutter’s kindness, allowed him to cut a small piece of its liver. But the woodcutter, overcome by greed, he went inside dragon snake’s stomach and took a large piece, causing the snake unbearable pain. The snake closed its mouth in agony, and the woodcutter was trapped inside.
This story shows that the woodcutter’s downfall was entirely due to his own actions, driven by his insatiable greed.
Buddhist Tales for Young and Old, volume 1, Prince Goodspeaker, Stories 1-50
Once upon a time, King Brahmadatta was ruling in Benares, in northern India. The Enlightenment Being was born as his son the prince. Being quite intelligent, he completed his entire education by the age of sixteen. So, at this early age, his father made him second in command.
In those days, most people in Benares worshipped gods. They were very superstitious. They thought gods caused things to happen to them, rather than being results of their own actions. So they would pray to these gods and ask special favours. They would ask for a lucky marriage, or the birth of a child or riches or fame.
They would promise the gods that, if their prayers were answered, they would pay them by making offerings to them. In addition to flowers and perfumes, they imagined the gods desired the sacrifice of animals. So, when they thought the gods had helped them, they killed many animals — goats, lambs, chickens, pigs and others.
The prince saw all this and thought, “These helpless animals are also subjects of the king, so I must protect them. The people commit these unwholesome acts due to ignorance and superstition. This cannot be true religion. For true religion offers life as it really is, not killing. True religion offers peace of mind, not cruelty.
“I fear these people believe in their superstitions too strongly to give them up. This is very sad. But perhaps their beliefs can at least be put to good use. Some day I will become king. So I must begin to make a plan to let their superstitions help them. If they must offer sacrifices, let them kill their own greed and hatred, instead of these helpless animals! Then the whole kingdom will benefit.”
So the prince devised a clever long term plan. Every so often, he rode in his grand chariot to a popular banyan tree just outside the city. This was a huge tree, where the people prayed and made offerings to a god they thought lived there. The prince came down from his chariot and made the same offerings as the others — incense, flowers, perfumes and water — but not animal sacrifices.
In this way he made a great show, and the news spread about his offerings. Pretty soon, all the people thought he was a true believer in the great god of the banyan tree.
In due time, King Brahmadatta died and his son became king. He ruled as a righteous king, and the people benefited. So all his subjects came to trust and respect him as a just and honourable king.
Then one day, he decided it was the right time to carry out the rest of his plan. So he called all the leading citizens of Benares to the royal assembly hall. He asked them, “Worthy ministers and loyal subjects, do you know how I was able to make sure that I would become king?” No one could answer.
He said, “Do you remember that I often gave wonderful sweet offerings to the great god of the banyan tree?” “Yes, our lord,” they said.
The king continued, “At each of those times, I made a promise to the powerful god of the tree. I prayed, ‘Oh mighty one, if you make me King of Benares, I will offer a special sacrifice to you, far greater than flowers and perfumes.’
“Since I am now the king, you all can see for yourselves that the god has answered my prayers. So now I must keep my promise and offer the special sacrifice.”
All those in the assembly hall agreed. They said, “We must prepare this sacrifice at once. What animals do you wish to kill?”
The king said, “My dear subjects, I am glad you are so willing to cooperate. I promised the great god of the banyan tree that I would sacrifice anyone who fails to practice the Five Training Steps. That is, anyone who destroys life, takes what is not given, does wrong in sexual ways, speaks falsely, or loses his mind from alcohol. I promised that, if any do these things, I will offer their guts, and their flesh and blood on the great god’s altar!”
Being so superstitious, all those in the hall agreed that this must be done, or the god would surely punish the king and the kingdom.
The king thought, “Ah, such is the power of superstition that these people have lost all common sense! They cannot see that, since the first training step is to give up killing, if I sacrificed one of my subjects, I would be next on the altar! And such is the power of superstition that I could make such a promise, and never have to carry it out!”
So, with full confidence in the power of superstition, the king said to the leading citizens, “Go into all the kingdom and announce the promise I made to the god. Then proclaim that the first one-thousand who break any of the training steps will have the honour of being sacrificed, to keep the king’s promise.”
Lo and behold, the people of Benares became famous for carefully practising the Five Training Steps. And the good king, who knew his subjects so well, sacrificed no one.
The moral is: Sacrifice your own wrong doing, not some helpless animal.
50. The Prince Who Had a Plan [The Power of Superstition]
Peace LiLy 