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Jataka 448

Kukkuṭa Jātaka

The Fowl

as told by Eric Van Horn

originally translated by H.T. Francis and R.A. Neil, Cambridge University

originally edited by Professor Edward Byles Cowell, Cambridge University


One of the interesting points in this story is to be able to see danger and avoid it. It is one of the usual practical elements in the Buddha’s teaching.


Trust not in those.” The Master told this story in the Bamboo Grove (Veluvana). It is about conspiring to kill. In the Dharma Hall, the monks were discussing the evil nature of Devadatta. “Why, sir, by suborning archers and others to the task, Devadatta is making an attempt to murder the Dasabala!” (“Dasabala” refers to someone endowed with the ten powers. In this case, it specifically means the Buddha.) The Master entered the Hall and asked, “What is this, brothers, that you are discussing as you sit here together?” They told him. He said, “This is not the first time that he has tried to murder me. It was just the same before.” And he told them this story from the past.


Once upon a time there reigned a King in Kosambī named Kosambaka. At that time the Bodhisatta was reborn as the offspring of a wild hen that lived in a grove of bamboo trees. Afterwards he became the chief of a flock of several hundred fowls in the forest. Not far off lived a falcon, who—when he found the opportunity—caught the fowls one by one and ate them. In the course of time he devoured all the others, and the Bodhisatta was left alone. But he used caution in seeking his food, and he lived in a thicket of bamboo. The falcon could not get him there, so he started thinking by what trick he might entice him in order to capture him.

He landed on a branch near by and called out, “Worthy fowl, what makes you fear me? I am anxious to make friends with you. Now in a certain place there is plenty of food. Let us feed there together and live like friends in company.” “No, good sir,” replied the Bodhisatta. “There can be no friendship between you and me ever. So begone!” “Good sir, for my former sins you cannot trust me now. But I promise that I will never do it again!” “No, I do not care for such a friend. Begone, I say!” Again for the third time the Bodhisatta refused. “With a creature of such qualities,” he said, “there can never be friendship.” And with this declaration he made the wide woods resound. The devas applauded as he uttered this discourse:

“Trust not in those whose words are lies, nor those who only know

Self-interest, or who have sinned, nor who too-pious show.

“Some men have nature like the cow, thirsty and full of greed,

Have words in truth a friend to soothe, but never come to deed.

“These hold out dry and empty hands, the voice conceals their heart,

From those who know not gratitude (vain creatures!) keep apart.

“Put not your trust in a woman or man of fickle mind,

Nor such as having made a pact to break it are inclined.

“The man who walks in evil ways, to all things threatening death,

Unsteadfast, put no trust in him, like keenest sword in sheath.

“Some speak smooth words that come not from the heart, and try to please

With many a show of friendship faked, put not your trust in these.

“When such an evil-minded man beholds or food or gain,

He works all ill, and go he will, but first will be your bane.”

“No, I do not care for such a friend!”

Figure: “No, I do not care for such a friend!”


These seven stanzas were repeated by the king of the fowls. Then four stanzas were recited by the King of the Faith, words inspired by a Buddha’s insight:

“In friendly show full many a foe follows, his aid to give,

As the fowl left the falcon, so ’twere best bad men to leave.

“Who is not quick to recognize the meaning of events,

Under his foes’ control he goes, and afterward repents.

“Whoso the meaning of events is quick to recognize,

As from the falcon’s toils the fowl, so from his foes he flies.

“From such inevitable and treacherous snare,

Deadly, set deep mid many a forest tree,

As from the falcon far the fowl did flee,

The man of seeing eye afar should fare.”


And he again, after reciting these stanzas, called the falcon. He reproached him, saying, “If you continue to live in this place, I will know what to do.” The falcon flew away from there and went to another place.


The Master, having ended this discourse, said, “Monks, long ago just as now Devadatta tried to accomplish my destruction.” And then he identified the birth: “At that time, Devadatta was the falcon, and I was the fowl.”

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