The Bodhisatta was once a king. His father died when he was just seven years old, and the royal advisors doubted he was ready to ascend the throne at such a young age. So they tested him by dressing up a monkey in the clothes of three people: a diviner of auspicious building sites, a judge, and a man who respected his father and mother. Since all three times the Bodhisatta recognized that it was a monkey standing before him, not a man, the advisors considered him wise enough to be king and gave him the crown. He ruled with righteousness and wisdom for his entire reign. One notable example of this is the time he cleverly resolved fourteen problems at the same time.

One of his father’s servants, Gamani, being quite old, had retired after the previous king’s death and moved to a village to become a farmer. Soon after, he suffered an incredible string of bad luck. Gamani borrowed a pair of oxen from a friend, and after plowing his field all day he fed them grass and returned them to their stall. Gamani saw the friend and his wife eating dinner, and since they did not invite him into their home, he left without talking to them. That night someone stole the oxen, and the owner, seeing an opportunity to make money, accused Gamani of not returning them. The man demanded they let the king judge their case, and together they walked to the palace.

On the way, they passed Gamani’s friend’s house, and he went inside to get something to eat. His friend wasn’t there, but his pregnant wife offered to cook him a meal. When she climbed a ladder to get some grain, she fell down and miscarried. Just then, the friend came in and thought Gamani had struck her, so he also wanted to make a claim in front of the king and joined them on the way to the palace.

As the men walked, a horse started following them. Its keeper told Gamani to throw a rock at it to make it stop. He did, and it broke the horse’s foot. So now a third man joined the others.

Fearing his fate, Gamani tried to kill himself by jumping off a cliff. He landed on a basket weaver, killing him but saving himself. The dead man’s son became his fourth captor, and the five of them walked together to the palace.

Although he had no more unfortunate incidents along the way, as people heard that Gamani was going to see the king, he got ten requests—from a village headman, a prostitute, a young woman, a snake, a deer, a partridge, a tree fairy, a naga, a group of ascetics, and some brahmin-priest students—to ask the king to explain the causes of their problems. Gamani promised each that he would.

When Gamani was finally brought into the court, the Bodhisatta remembered him fondly and the two discussed what he had been doing since he left the palace. Then it came time for the charges to be heard, and the owner of the oxen made his case first. When Gamani gave his side of the story, the Bodhisatta asked the owner to swear he was telling the truth about not seeing the oxen enter their stall that evening, and he reluctantly admitted he actually had seen them going in. The Bodhisatta faulted Gamani for not announcing himself when returning the oxen and the owner for lying, so he gave them both punishments: Gamani would pay twenty-four coins, and the owner would have his eyes gouged out by Gamani. The man fell at Gamani’s feet and begged forgiveness, telling him to keep the coins he owed and giving him some more before running away.

Next, the Bodhisatta heard about the miscarriage, and Gamani explained that she had fallen, he had not hit her. The Bodhisatta ruled that Gamani had indeed caused the miscarriage, albeit unintentionally, and his friend deserved a son. So he ordered Gamani to take his friend’s wife to live at his house until she gave birth to a boy, which he would then give to his friend. The friend fell at Gamani’s feet and begged him not to break up his family, and also gave him some money before taking off.

The horsekeeper at first claimed he did not tell Gamani to throw the rock, but under pressure from the Bodhisatta he admitted that he had. Gamani was ordered to pay him one thousand coins for a new horse and could rip out the man’s tongue as a penalty for lying to the king. The man refused to take the one thousand coins, gave Gamani some money, and departed.

Finally, Gamani was ordered to have the basket weaver’s son and mother move into his house so he could serve as a replacement for the deceased father. But the son did not want his home broken up, so he gave Gamani some money and left.

And thus, through the favor of the Bodhisatta, Gamani was not only given freedom, but had earned some money.

Gamani then told the Bodhisatta about the questions he’d been asked as he walked to the palace, and he answered them with wisdom equal to a Buddha.

• The brahmin-priest students used to remember the passages they were studying with ease, but lately their minds were like leaky jars and they wanted to know what had happened. The Bodhisatta said it was because in the past a rooster woke them regularly before sunrise to study, but their new rooster did not keep regular time, throwing off their schedule.

• The ascetics wanted to know why the fruits where they lived were no longer sweet and delicious. The Bodhisatta said it was because they had gotten lazy in their duties, such as having just some of them go out on the morning alms rounds and sharing the food rather than all going out together.

• The naga asked why the water in his pool changed from being crystal clear to dirty. The Bodhisatta said it was because the naga chiefs had become quarrelsome.

• The tree fairy used to be richly honored and wondered why she no longer got donations. The Bodhisatta said it was because she stopped protecting men who passed through that stretch of forest.

• The partridge could only sing beautifully at the foot of a particular anthill and wondered why. The Bodhisatta said there was a pot of treasure buried below it, and Gamani should dig it up and keep it.

• The deer did not know why it could only eat grass underneath a particular tree. The Bodhisatta answered that there was a large honeycomb in the tree dripping honey onto the grass below. Gamani should take it down and send the best honey to the palace and keep the rest.

• The snake lived in an anthill and didn’t understand why when going out to eat, it could only just squeeze out of the entrance, but when returning full from a meal, it came in easily without touching the sides. The Bodhisatta said there was a pot of treasure buried there, and the snake was greedy in keeping it, so leaving was difficult because it worried the treasure would be taken. Gamani should dig up the treasure and keep it.

• The young woman didn’t understand why she couldn’t live contently with either her husband or her family. The Bodhisatta said it was because her lover lived between her house and her parents’ house, and when she was at either of them, she thought of him and wanted to stay there for a few days. The Bodhisatta added that she should dwell at her husband’s house, and if she did not heed this advice he would arrest and execute her.

• The prostitute wondered why she no longer made much money from her trade. The Bodhisatta said she used to stay with one man until he had gotten his money’s worth, but men stopped favoring her when she started switching from one man to the next too quickly.

• The village headman wanted to know what caused him to go from being rich, respected, and healthy to poor, miserable, and jaundiced. The Bodhisatta answered that he used to deal proper justice to people, but now he took bribes and his judgments were unfair.

His advice complete, the Bodhisatta gave Gamani valuable presents and made him the leader of his village. Then Gamani returned home, stopping along the way to share the Bodhisatta’s advice and collect the treasure and honey.

In the Lifetime of the Buddha

One time the Buddha heard some of his disciples praising his extraordinary wisdom. He told them this story so they knew that he had also been wise in the past.

Gamani was an earlier birth of Ananda, one of the Buddha’s top disciples.

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Courtesy of Tim Bewer

The Bodhisatta was once a king. He had four sons, and one day they asked the charioteer to show them a flame of the forest tree. First he took the eldest son to the forest, and he saw the tree while the buds were sprouting. The next son went later when the leaves were green, the third went when the flowers were blossoming, and the fourth when it was bearing fruit. Sometime later, when the four brothers were sitting together, somebody asked them what a flame of the forest tree was like. The first brother answered, “Like a burnt stump.” The second said, “Like a banyan tree.” The third, “Like a piece of meat” (because of the red flowers). And the fourth, “Like an acacia tree.” Annoyed by each other’s answers, they went to discuss the matter with the Bodhisatta. He told them they should have asked the charioteer to tell them what the tree was like at times other than when they were seeing it.

In the Lifetime of the Buddha

Four disciples took meditation topics from the Buddha and went out to their own remote locations for intensive training. One had the subject of the “six spheres of touch,” another the “five elements of being,” the third the “four principle elements,” and the fourth the “eighteen constituents of being,” and each had a breakthrough and became an arahant.

When they returned to the monastery and discussed their experiences with the Buddha, one of the disciples asked how it was that four different modes of meditation led to the same nirvana. The Buddha answered that it was like the sons who saw the flame of the forest tree, and he told them this story to explain.

The Buddha did not identify any earlier births other than his own.

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Courtesy of Tim Bewer

The Bodhisatta was once a hare. He lived in the forest and had three friends, a monkey, a jackal, and an otter, who he advised on moral matters. One evening before a holy day, he reminded them that giving alms brings great rewards, so they should feed any beggars who happen to approach them. Early the next morning, they all went out to get food to bring back to their homes to eat later when breaking their fasts. The otter found a string of seven fish that a fisherman had buried in the sand for safekeeping, the jackal entered the hut of a field watcher who wasn’t at home and took a lizard and a jar of curds, and the monkey gathered mangoes in the forest. Because he ate only grass, the Bodhisatta did not gather any food, and he realized he would be unable to offer anything to any beggars who came his way. But he vowed to give his own flesh if needed.

The throne of Indra, king of the gods, became warm as the Bodhisatta made his selfless pledge, and when Indra divined the reason, he disguised himself as a brahmin priest and put the Bodhisatta to the test. Indra first visited the otter and said that if he could get some food for breaking his fast, he would be able to do his priestly duties. The otter offered him the seven fish and asked him to stay in the forest for a while. Indra replied that he would come back later for the food. He then made the same request and got the same offers from the jackal and monkey before approaching the Bodhisatta. Upon hearing Indra’s request, the Bodhisatta was filled with joy and told him to prepare a fire, which he did. The Bodhisatta shook himself three times to avoid killing any insects living in his fur and then jumped into the flames, like a swan landing amidst lotuses.

To his surprise, the Bodhisatta felt no heat and wondered what was happening. Indra then revealed himself and explained that he had come to test the Bodhisatta’s virtue. He told Indra that he would have done the same for even the lowliest person, and Indra said the Bodhisatta’s virtue should be known for a whole eon, so he squeezed a mountain and used its essence to paint a picture of the hare on the moon for all to see.

In the Lifetime of the Buddha

For one week, a certain landowner was exceptionally generous in donating fancy food to the Buddha and his disciples, and on the seventh day he gave them robes and other requisites. The Buddha told the man that taking delight in providing charity was a wonderful thing. Then the Buddha told him this story so he knew that in the past he himself had done something similar.

The otter, jackal, and monkey were earlier births of Ananda, Moggallana, and Sariputta, three of the Buddha’s top disciples.

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Courtesy of Tim Bewer

The Bodhisatta was once a king’s advisor. When his other advisors slandered someone who the king considered a good man, the king asked the Bodhisatta how to tell if somebody is friend or foe. He answered that foes do not greet you politely, they honor your enemies and despise your friends, they neither share secrets with you nor keep yours in confidence, they never praise you, they rejoice in your misfortune, they don’t share good things with you, and they don’t pity you when you’re suffering misfortune. Then he explained that friends do the opposite of all these things. The king was delighted by this explanation and gave the Bodhisatta high praise.

In the Lifetime of the Buddha

The king showed great honor to a courtier who was very helpful, and this made some others jealous, so they falsely accused the courtier of doing bad things. The king looked into the matter and found no fault with the courtier. Unsure how to tell if somebody was friend or foe, the king went to ask the Buddha. The Buddha said the king had pondered this very problem in the past, and he told this story as his answer.

The king of the past was an earlier birth of Ananda, one of the Buddha’s top disciples.

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Courtesy of Tim Bewer

The Bodhisatta was once an ascetic. Before this, he was a righteous, generous king who always faithfully observed the holy days; and he encouraged others to do the same. But his chaplain was wicked. He spoke ill of others, lied, took bribes, and gave unjust verdicts in disputes.

Once, after one of the king’s advisors criticized the chaplain for not keeping the holy-day vows, he began to do so in the middle of the morning. Later that day, the chaplain saw a woman observing the holy day, and he gave her a mango. Soon after this, the chaplain died and was reborn in the Himalayas as a spirit with the form of an adult man, and he lived in a golden palace amidst a glorious mango grove. (The mango grove being a result of giving the woman the mango.) He was attended by sixteen thousand nymphs and reveled in song and dance all night long. This was his reward for observing half a holy day. But because he accepted bribes and committed other sins, from dawn to sunset his beautiful body transformed into a hideous creature as tall as a palm tree. He had just one finger per hand, and with fingernails as big as spades, he had to tear the flesh off his back and eat it, all the while screaming in pain.

Shortly after his chaplain died, the Bodhisatta renounced his throne and retired to an ascetic life in a leaf hut along the Ganges River. He lived only on the food he could gather, and one day he found a large ripe mango from the former chaplain’s grove floating down the river. It was a perfect fruit, so delicious that the Bodhisatta became obsessed and would eat nothing else. He sat on the river bank and resolved not to leave until another floated his way. Seven days he stayed, becoming ill from hunger, wind, and heat, but no more mangoes came.

Noticing the Bodhisatta’s suffering, a river goddess divined that he was a slave to his appetite due to so many years of eating only the best foods in the palace. She wanted to alleviate his suffering, so she came and urged him to cease his indulgence. He said he could not, and if she didn’t help him, people would blame her for his death. So with her powers, the goddess transported the Bodhisatta to the grove where the special mangoes grew, and he ate his fill.

While wandering about, the Bodhisatta saw the spirit in both his dreadful daytime shape and his divine nighttime form. He asked what caused these two types, and the spirit revealed that he had been the Bodhisatta’s former chaplain and confessed his sins from that life. When the Bodhisatta explained why he had come to the mango grove, the spirit promised to float plenty of ripe mangoes down the river. For the rest of his days, the Bodhisatta lived in the contentment of perfect mangoes and mystic meditation.

In the Lifetime of the Buddha

One time some lay followers of the Buddha came to hear him preach, and he praised them for observing the holy days. He told them this story to show that doing so can bring great rewards.

The river goddess was an earlier birth of Uppalavanna, one of the Buddha’s top female disciples.

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Courtesy of Tim Bewer

This Jataka tale illustrates the perfection of character of loving-kindness (metta).

The Bodhisatta was once the son of two ascetics. The chiefs of two hunting villages, long-time friends, vowed they would marry two of their children to each other when they reached the right age. In time, one had a son and the other a daughter; and as they grew up, Dukulaka, the boy, and Parika, the girl, were not ordinary children. They refused to harm any living creatures and faithfully devoted themselves to purity. When they came of age, neither had any interest in family life; but their parents ignored their pleas and married them against their will.

Though they lived together, Dukulaka and Parika refused to act as a married couple and eventually got permission from their parents to go out and live a celibate life as ascetics in the Himalayas. As they departed the city, the throne of Indra, king of the gods, grew warm. He knew that these two people were great beings, so he built them leaf huts and provided everything they would need to ensure their life in the wilderness would be easy and comfortable. They lived in bliss on the fruits and roots they gathered in the forest, and their benevolence was so strong even animals living near them did not harm each other.

One day Indra foresaw that the pair would eventually go blind, so he revealed himself to Dukulaka and urged the couple to have a child. Dukulaka rebuked Indra and said they would never end their life of purity. But Indra said he would arrange for them to conceive simply by Dukulaka placing a finger on Parika’s navel at an auspicious time. And thus, with Indra’s help, the Bodhisatta, named Sama, was born.

The foretold tragedy struck Dukulaka and Parika when the Bodhisatta was sixteen. While returning home from collecting food, they took shelter from the rain under a tree and stood on an anthill. Sweat-infused water dripping off their bodies irritated a snake living in the anthill and it shot venom into their eyes, completely blinding both of them. (This disaster resulted from past-life karma from when Dukulaka was a doctor and Parika was his wife. He had treated a rich man’s eye disease, but the man refused to pay. At the suggestion of Parika, Dukulaka tainted some of this patient’s medicine and blinded him in one eye.)

The Bodhisatta took care of his impaired parents without hesitation. He tied up ropes around their home so they could move about on their own, but they could not walk through the forest, so he gathered all their food and water with the help of kinnaras (half-human, half-bird beings) picking fruit and deer carrying large jars on their backs.

A king who loved venison had left his kingdom in the care of his mother and went to the Himalayas to hunt deer. He passed by the riverbank where the Bodhisatta collected water, and seeing deer footprints there, he erected a blind and waited. When the Bodhisatta approached with his helper deer, the king was astonished. The king desperately wanted to know if this incredible being was a god or a naga, and was certain he could not simply walk up and ask. If he was a god he would fly up to heaven, and if he was a naga he would dive into the earth. In order to be able to talk to him, the king did the only thing he could think of—he shot the Bodhisatta with a poison arrow.

Lying on a sandbank with blood flowing out his mouth, the Bodhisatta did not rage in anger, he only gently asked aloud who his hidden attacker was and why he shot him. The king came out of his hiding place to speak with the Bodhisatta and lied that he’d had a deer in his sights, but it got spooked at seeing the Bodhisatta and fled in fright: this caused the king to misfire. The Bodhisatta replied that he knew this wasn’t true because no creature in the forest feared him. Finally succumbing to guilt, the king confessed his crime. Just before he lost consciousness, the Bodhisatta begged the king to care for his helpless parents for the rest of their lives. Regretting the evil he had done to such a righteous being, the king vowed that he would.

A goddess who had been the Bodhisatta’s mother seven lives before his present one saw the tragedy unfolding and went to save him, his parents, and the king. Speaking unseen from the sky, she implored the king to keep his promise to care for the Bodhisatta’s parents, assuring him that if he did so, he would be able to enter heaven instead of going to hell. The king, believing the Bodhisatta had already died, found his home and gently, gradually told his parents the terrible news. Though they cried in agony, they did not speak any harsh words and only showed the king kindness and reverence. They refused the king’s offer to serve as their caretaker, asking only that he take them immediately to their son’s body.

When his parents arrived at the river, they held the Bodhisatta’s body and wept. Both they and the goddess pleaded an act of truth (a solemn declaration of one’s supreme virtue followed by a request for some miraculous result) that if they had earned enough merit in past lives, then the Bodhisatta should be saved. They had, and their wish was granted. Not only were the Bodhisatta’s health and vigor fully restored, but his parents regained their sight.

Amazed by these miracles, the king sat and listened to the Bodhisatta preach to him about the importance of caring for family, fulfilling his duty to all his subjects, and following the five precepts. The king bowed down to the Bodhisatta, then returned home where he respected these lessons, becoming a righteous, generous ruler. Upon death, they were all reborn in heaven.

In the Lifetime of the Buddha

The parents of one of the Buddha’s disciples had been reluctant to let their son adopt a religious life, but he begged them and they agreed. After five years, he fully mastered dharma, so he went out to live alone and meditate in the forest to reach spiritual insight. But after twelve years of striving, he still had not achieved it. One day another disciple visited him at his hut and told him that his parents had fallen into ruin. With no children around to protect them, their servants and workers had stolen everything, and they were now homeless beggars clothed in rags. The son began to cry, and realizing he had labored in vain for the past twelve years, he decided to leave the sangha and return home to care for his parents.

The depressed disciple went to listen to the Buddha preach one last time before returning home. The Buddha divined this disciple’s situation and made his morning talk about the virtues of parents. Listening to the sermon, the son realized that, though it would be difficult, he could remain a disciple and still support his parents, and he resolved to do so. He took up abode near their hut, and from then on he made two daily alms rounds: one for them and a second for himself. He usually got little food for himself, and some days he got none, so he grew pale and thin.

When some other disciples learned what he was doing, they told him that sharing alms with people who are not disciples was an offense, and they reported him to the Buddha. The accused disciple was summoned back to the monastery, where he admitted sharing the alms he collected with his parents. But, to the surprise of the other disciples, the Buddha praised the caring son instead of rebuking him. He then told this story to explain that caring for others was always a good thing, and that in the past he himself had supported his needy parents in a similar way.

Dukulaka, Parika, the king, the goddess, and Indra were earlier births of Maha Kassapa, Bhadda Kapilani, Ananda, Uppalavanna, and Anuruddha, five of the Buddha’s top disciples.

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Courtesy of Tim Bewer

The Bodhisatta was once a lion. One day he met a jackal in the forest, and being unable to escape, the jackal threw himself at the Bodhisatta’s feet and said he would be his servant if he spared his life. The Bodhisatta accepted the offer. He brought meat back to his home every day, and the jackal ate the leftovers.

The jackal grew large with this arrangement and got arrogant, wanting to kill an elephant by himself. The Bodhisatta replied that no jackal could kill an elephant because they were too small, but the jackal ignored his advice and went out to hunt. When he saw an elephant walking below him, the jackal dove toward it and landed at its feet. The elephant stomped his head, smashing his skull to pieces. The Bodhisatta commented that the jackal died due to pride, and that everyone should stick to their proper duties.

In the Lifetime of the Buddha

The jackal was an earlier birth of Devadatta, a disciple of the Buddha who became his nemesis. He left the Buddha’s sangha with many disciples to set up his own order and declared that he too was a Buddha. The real Buddha sent two of his top disciples, Sariputta and Moggallana, to preach to those wayward disciples; and while Devadatta was asleep, most of them returned to the Buddha’s fold. This so angered Kokalika, a disciple of the Buddha who became one of Devadatta’s most devoted followers, that he kicked Devadatta in the chest and caused him to spit up blood.

The Buddha told this story to let his disciples know this was not the first time Devadatta had imitated him and suffered for it.

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Courtesy of Tim Bewer

The Bodhisatta was once a partridge. He lived inside the leaf hut of a world-renowned teacher who taught the sacred texts to five hundred students. A lizard and her two children also lived in the teacher’s home, a dairy cow and her calf stayed outside, and a lion and tiger who were friends with the teacher lived nearby in the surrounding forest.

When the teacher died, his students performed funeral rites and built a mound over his ashes. They wondered how they could continue their studies. The Bodhisatta was very wise, and from listening to the teacher’s lessons he had mastered the three Vedas, so he took over teaching the students. The Bodhisatta was an excellent teacher; his explanations of complex issues flowed like a stream down a mountain, and his students were delighted. They built him a golden cage and served him honey and parched grains.

When a festival was being celebrated, all the students left the school to join in with their families. While they were away, a wicked ascetic wandering through the region came to their school. Not knowing his true nature, the lizard invited him to stay and told him where to find rice and oil, then she went out to find her own food. During the day, the ascetic killed and ate the Bodhisatta, the young lizards, and the cows; then, in the late afternoon, he fell fast asleep.

The lizard returned and searched frantically for her children. A tree fairy told the lizard what the wicked ascetic had done and urged her to bite him on the neck and kill him. But the lizard feared he would wake up and eat her, so she fled into the forest.

Shortly after the lizard left, the tiger stopped by to visit his friend the Bodhisatta. He saw the wretched ascetic sleeping with feathers stuck to his matted hair and a pile of bones at his side and realized what must have happened. He woke the ascetic up with a kick and asked if he had killed these creatures. Hoping his life would be spared, the frightened ascetic admitted to killing the lizards and cows, but denied killing the Bodhisatta. The tiger didn’t believe him and marched him off to see the lion, and then the ascetic made a full confession. The lion wanted to let him go, but the tiger felt he deserved to die and tore him apart.

In the Lifetime of the Buddha

The wicked ascetic was an earlier birth of Devadatta, a disciple of the Buddha who became his nemesis. When he heard some of his disciples discussing the three times Devadatta had tried to kill him, the Buddha told them this story so they knew that Devadatta had also tried to kill him in the past.

The teacher, lizard, tiger, and lion were earlier births of Maha Kassapa, Kisagotami, Moggallana, and Sariputta, four of the Buddha’s top disciples.

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Courtesy of Tim Bewer

The Bodhisatta was once an ascetic who had many followers. A jackal came each night and fouled their well. One night some of the ascetics surrounded the jackal and caught him. They brought the jackal before the Bodhisatta who asked why he was doing this. The jackal answered that it was the nature of jackals to spoil the spots where they drink (his father and grandfather had done the same), so nobody should be angry with him. The Bodhisatta condemned all jackals as foul beasts and told this one to go away and never return.

In the Lifetime of the Buddha

The jackal of the past was an earlier birth of a jackal who used to foul a well at the Buddha’s monastery. When some novices saw the jackal, they pelted him with clods of dirt, and he never returned. When the Buddha heard some of his disciples discussing the incident, he told them this story so they knew that the same jackal had also fouled his well in the past.

📖 Read more at: thejatakatales.com
Courtesy of Tim Bewer

The Bodhisatta was once a king’s advisor. Four brothers lived together as ascetics in the Himalayas. When the eldest died, he was reborn as Indra, king of the gods, and he used to visit and assist his brothers who were still down on earth. One day Indra asked each of them what they wanted most. One wanted fire, so Indra gave him an axe that would go cut firewood and return to build a fire. The next brother did not like elephants, and there were many around their camp, so Indra gave him a drum that when struck on one side would cause enemies to run away, and when struck on the other would cause enemies to become his friends and serve as an army. The third brother wanted curds, so Indra gave him a bowl that released a river-sized flow of curds when turned over.

Elsewhere, a wild boar living in a ruined village found a magic jewel, and as soon as he picked it up in his mouth, he began to fly. Soaring through the air, he saw an island in the ocean and went to live there. Later, a troublemaker who had been kicked out of his home by his parents was shipwrecked on this island. This wicked man saw the boar sleeping under a mango tree, stole the jewel, and when he found himself rising into the air he landed in the tree. He wanted to eat the boar before flying away from the island, so he dropped a twig down on the boar’s head. When the boar awoke and noticed his jewel was missing, he got agitated. Then seeing the man in the tree, he ran headfirst into the trunk and died. After cooking and consuming the boar, the wicked man flew off through the sky.

From up above, the troublemaker saw the three ascetics’ camp and stopped in for a visit, spending a few days staying with the eldest. When he heard about the axe, the man suggested exchanging it for his flying jewel, and the ascetic agreed. Once he got the axe, the man commanded it to smash the ascetic’s skull and bring the jewel back to him. He then stayed with the second and third ascetics and got the drum and bowl in the same way.

Now possessing immense power, the man flew to the city and told the king to fight or surrender. The king chose to fight, so the man beat his drum and was surrounded by a large army, turned over his bowl and drowned the king’s troops in a river of curds, and ordered the axe to fetch the king’s head. With nobody able to stop him, the man crowned himself king. After this, he settled down and ruled righteously.

One day the new king was fishing in the river with a net and snared a huge, wonderful golden mango that had floated down from a holy Himalayan lake. The king had his gardener plant its seed in the royal park, and he gave the tree his full attention: it was irrigated with milk, perfumed with scented oils, decorated with wreaths and garlands, surrounded by a cloth, and lit by a lamp kept burning next to it at all times. Three years later, it bore fruit as sweet and delicious as the original.

The king sent these mangoes as gifts to other kings, but first he pricked the spot where the seeds would sprout so they could not be planted. One king was very upset by this, so he sent his own gardener to sabotage the special mango tree. This man got hired as the gardener’s assistant. Soon after, because he was able to force fruits and flowers to grow out of season, the king fired his gardener and put this infiltrator in charge. At this point, he planted vines and neem trees around the mango tree, and as their roots intertwined, they turned the mangoes bitter. His work done, the rogue gardener took off and returned home.

When the king tasted one of the tainted mangoes, he spit it out and asked the Bodhisatta what had happened. The Bodhisatta saw the cause and had all the vines and neem trees cut down and their roots pulled up. Then he replaced the soil around the tree, and eventually the mangoes became sweet again.

In the Lifetime of the Buddha

One time the Buddha was discussing the harm that comes with keeping bad company, and he told this story as an example.

The Buddha did not identify any earlier births other than his own.

📖 Read more at: thejatakatales.com
Courtesy of Tim Bewer