Chaddanta Jātaka

Once upon a time 80,000 royal elephants, by exercising supernatural powers, moved through the air. They lived near Lake Chaddanta in the Himalayas. At this time the Bodhisatta was born as the son of the chief elephant. He was a pure white, with red feet and face. When he had grown up, he was 88 cubits high and 120 cubits long. He had a trunk like a silver rope. It was 58 cubits long. His tusks were 15 cubits in circumference and 30 cubits long. They emitted six-colored rays. He was the chief of the herd of the 80,000 elephants, and he paid honor to pacceka buddhas.

His two head queens were Cullasubhaddā and Mahāsubhaddā. The king elephant, with his herd of 80,000, lived in a Golden Cave. Now Lake Chaddanta was 50 leagues long and 50 broad. (A league is three miles or 4.8 kilometers.) In the middle of it, for about 12 leagues, no sevāla or paṇaka plant is found. (A sevāla plant is a submerged, aquatic plant, of which several species are found in northern India. A panaka plant is a type of moss or water plant.) Its water appeared like a magic jewel. Next to this for a league in breadth was a thicket of pure white lilies that encircled. Next to this, also encircling it, was a thicket of pure blue lotus. This was likewise a league in extent. Then came white and red lotuses, red and white lilies, and white esculent (edible) lilies, each also a league in extent and each encircling the one before. Next to these seven thickets came a mixed tangle of white and other lilies. They were also a league in extent, and they encircled all the preceding ones. Next, in water as deep as elephants can stand in, was a thicket of red (rice) paddy. Next, in the surrounding water, was a grove of small shrubs, abounding in delicate and fragrant blossoms of blue, yellow, red and white. So these ten thickets were each a league in extent.

Next came a thicket of various kinds of kidney beans. Next to them came a tangle of convolvulus (a vining plant with trumpet-shaped flowers), cucumber, pumpkin, gourds, and other creepers. Then there was a grove of sugarcane the size of the areca-nut tree (a type of palm). Then there was a grove of plantains with fruit as big as elephant’s tusks. Next was a rice paddy. Following this was a grove of breadfruit the size of a water jar. Next was a grove of tamarinds (a type of bean) with luscious fruit. Then there was a grove of elephant apple trees, followed by a great forest of different kinds of trees. Then there was a bamboo grove. Such was the magnificence of this region. Its present magnificence is described in the Saṃyutta Commentary.

Surrounding the bamboo grove were seven mountains. Starting from the extreme outside first came Little Black Mountain, next Great Black Mountain, then Water Mountain, Moon Mountain, Sun Mountain, Jewel Mountain, then the seventh range, Golden Mountain. This was seven leagues in height, rising all around Lake Chaddanta like the rim of a bowl. The inner side of it was a golden color. The light of Lake Chaddanta shone like the newly risen sun. Of the outer mountains, one was six leagues in height, one five, one four, one three, one two, and one was a single league in height.

Now in the northeast corner of the lake, surrounded by the seven mountain ranges, in a spot where the wind fell upon the water, there grew a big banyan tree. Its trunk was five leagues in circumference and seven leagues in height. Four branches spread six leagues to the four points of the compass, and the branch that rose straight upwards was six leagues. So from the root upwards it was thirteen leagues in height, and from the extremity of the branches in one direction to the extremity of the branches in the opposite direction, it was twelve leagues. The tree was furnished with 80,000 shoots and stood forth in all its beauty like the bare Jewel Mount. But on the west side of Lake Chaddanta, in the Golden Mount, was a golden cave, twelve leagues in extent. Chaddanta the elephant king, with his following of 80,000 elephants, lived in the golden cave during the rainy season. During the hot season, he stood at the foot of the great banyan tree, among its shoots, welcoming the breeze from off the water.

Now one day they told him, “The great Sāl grove is in flower.” So attended by his herd, he decided to travel to the Sāl grove. And going there he encountered a Sāl tree in full bloom. At that moment Cullasubhaddā stood to windward. Dry twigs mixed with dead leaves and red ants fell on her. But Mahāsubhaddā stood to leeward, and flowers with pollen and stalks and green leaves fell on her. Cullasubhaddā thought, “He let flowers and pollen and fresh stalks and leaves fall on the wife dear to him. But he dropped a mixture of dry twigs, dead leaves and red ants on me. Well, I know what to do!” And she developed a grudge against the Great Being.

On another day the king elephant and his attendant herd went down to Lake Chaddanta to bathe. Two young elephants took bundles of usīra root (a medicinal plant) in their trunks and gave him a bath, rubbing him down as if he were Mount Kelāsa. And when he came out of the water, they bathed the two queen elephants, and they too came out of the water and stood before the Great Being. Then the 80,000 elephants entered the lake and, prancing in the water, they plucked various flowers from the lake. Then they adorned the Great Being as if he were a silver shrine. And afterwards they did the same to the queen elephants. Then a certain elephant, as he swam about the lake, gathered a large lotus with seven shoots and offered it to the Great Being. And he, taking it in his trunk, sprinkled the pollen on his forehead and presented the flower to the chief queen elephant, Mahāsubhaddā.

On seeing this her rival said, “He gives this lotus with seven shoots to his favorite queen and not to me.” And once again she conceived a grudge against him.

Now one day, when the Bodhisatta had dressed luscious fruits and lotus stalks and fibers with the nectar of the flower, was entertaining 500 pacceka buddhas. Cullasubhaddā offered the wild fruits she had to the pacceka buddhas, and she said a prayer to this effect: “Hereafter, when I pass from here, may I be reborn as the royal maiden Subhaddā in the Madda King’s family. And when I come of age, may I become the Queen consort to the King of Benares. Then I will be dear and charming in his eyes, and in that position I can do what I please. So I will speak to the King, and I will send a hunter with a poisoned arrow to kill this elephant. And in this way I will have the pair of his tusks that emit six-colored rays.”

From then on, she ate no food. And pining away, in no time she died. She was reborn as the child of the Queen consort in the Madda kingdom. She was named Subhaddā. And when she was of a suitable age, they gave her in marriage to the King of Benares. She was dear and pleasing in his eyes, and she was the chief of 16,000 wives. She recalled her former existences and thought, “My prayer is fulfilled. Now I will have this elephant’s tusks brought to me.” She anointed her body with common oil, put on a soiled robe, and lay in bed pretending to be sick. The King said, “Where is Subhaddā?” When he heard that she was sick, he entered her royal chamber. And sitting on the bed he stroked her back and uttered the first stanza:

Large-eyed and peerless one, my Queen, so pale, to grief a prey,

Like wreath that’s trampled underfoot, why do you fadeaway?

On hearing this she spoke the second stanza:

As it would seem, all in a dream, a longing sore I had,

My wish is vain this boon to gain, and that is why I’m sad.

The King, on hearing this, spoke a stanza:

All joys to which in this glad world a mortal may aspire,

Whate’er your want is mine to grant, so tell me your desire.

On hearing this the Queen said, “Great King, my desire is hard to attain. I will not now say what it is, but I would have all the hunters that there are in your kingdom gathered. Then I will tell it in the midst of them.” And to explain her meaning, she spoke the next stanza:

Let hunters all obey your call, within this realm who dwell,

And what I want from them would gain, I’ll in their presence tell.

The King agreed. He issued a proclamation from the royal chamber. He gave orders to his ministers, saying, “Have it proclaimed by beat of the drum that all the hunters that are in the kingdom of Kāsi, 300 leagues in extent, are to assemble.” They did so. In no long time the hunters that lived in the kingdom of Kāsi, all brought presents according to their means, and they had their arrival announced to the King.

There were about 60,000 of them. And the King, hearing that they had arrived, stood at an open window. He stretched out his hand, and he told the Queen that they had arrived. He said:

Here then behold our hunters bold, with great ability,

Theirs is the skill wild beasts to kill, and all would die for me.

The Queen, on hearing this, addressed them and spoke another stanza:

You hunters bold, assembled here,

Unto my words, I pray, give ear,

Dreaming, I think an elephant I saw.

Six-tusked and white without a flaw,

His tusks I crave and fain would have,

None else avails this life to save.

The hunters, on hearing this, replied:

Ne’er did our sires in times of old

A six-tusked elephant behold,

Tell us what kind of beast might be

That which appeared in dreams to thee.

After this still they spoke another stanza:

Four points, north, south, east, west, one sees,

Four intermediate are to these,

Nadir and zenith add, and then

Say at which point of all the ten

This royal elephant might be,

That in a dream appeared to thee.

After these words Subhaddā, looking at all the hunters, saw among them one that was broad of foot. He had a calf swollen like an alms basket. He was big in the knee and ribs, thick-bearded. He had yellow teeth. He was disfigured with scars. He was conspicuous among them all as an ugly, hulking fellow. His name was Sonuttara. He had once been an enemy of the Great Being. She thought, “He will be able to do my bidding.” And with the King’s permission, she took him with her. She climbed to the highest floor of the seven-story palace. She threw open a window to the north, and stretching out her hand towards the Northern Himalayas, she uttered four stanzas:

Due north, beyond seven mountains vast,

One comes to Golden Cliff at last,

A height by goblin forms possessed

And bright with flowers from foot to crest.

Beneath this goblin peak is seen

A cloud-shaped mass of darkest green,

A royal banyan tree whose roots

Yield vigor to eight thousand shoots.

There lives invincible in might

This elephant, six-tusked and white,

With herd eight thousand strong for fight.

Their tusks to chariot-poles are like,

Wind-swift are they to guard or strike.

Panting and grim they stand and glare,

Provoked by slightest breath of air,

If they one born of man should see,

Their wrath consumes him utterly.

Sonuttara on hearing this was terrified to death. He said:

Turquoise or pearls of brilliant sheen,

With many a gold adornment, Queen,

In royal houses may be seen.

What would you then with ivory do,

Or will you slay these hunters true?

Then the Queen spoke a stanza:

Consumed with grief and spite am I,

When I recall my injury.

Grant me, O hunter, what I crave,

And five choice hamlets you shall have.

And with this she said, “Friend hunter, when I gave a gift to the pacceka buddhas, I offered up a prayer that I might have it in my power to kill this six-tusked elephant and get possession of a pair of his tusks. This was not merely seen by me in a vision, but the prayer that I offered up will be fulfilled. So go, without fear.” And so saying she reassured him.

He agreed to her words. He said, “So be it, lady. But first make it clear to me where he lives.” And he spoke this stanza:

Where lives he? Where may he be found?

What road is his, for bathing bound?

Where does this royal creature swim?

Tell us the way to capture him.

Then by recalling her former existence she clearly saw the spot. She told him about it in these two stanzas:

Not far this bathing-place of his,

A deep and goodly pool it is,

There bees do swarm and flowers abound,

And there this royal beast is found.

Now lotus-crowned, fresh from his bath

He gladly takes his homeward path,

As lily-white and tall he moves

Behind the queen he fondly loves.

On hearing this, Sonuttara agreed, saying, “Fair lady, I will kill the elephant and bring you his tusks.”

In her joy, she gave him a thousand gold coins. Then she said, “For now, go home, and at the end of seven days you will set out.”

Dismissing him, she summoned smiths and gave them an order. She said, “Sirs, we need an axe, a spade, an auger, a hammer, an instrument for cutting bamboos, a grass-cutter, an iron staff, a peg, and a three-pronged iron fork. Make them quickly and bring them to us.” And sending for leather workers, she charged them, saying, “Sirs, you must make us a leather sack that can hold a hogshead’s weight (about 1,000 pounds or 450 kilograms). We need leather ropes and straps, shoes big enough for an elephant, and a leather parachute. Make them quickly and bring them to us.” Both the smiths and the leather workers quickly made everything and brought them to her.

Having acquired everything necessary for the journey, along with firewood, baked meal and the like, she put everything into the leather sack. All of it came to about a hogshead in weight. And Sonuttara, having completed his arrangements, arrived on the seventh day. He stood respectfully in the presence of the Queen. Then she said, “Friend, everything for your journey has been completed. Take this sack.” And he, being stout—as strong as five elephants—picked up the sack as if it were a bag of cakes. He placed it on his hips and stood there with empty hands. Cullasubhaddā gave the provisions to the hunter’s attendants and, telling the King, dismissed Sonuttara. And paying respect to the King and Queen, he descended from the palace and placed his goods in a chariot.

He set out from the city with a great entourage. He passed through a series of villages and hamlets, and finally he reached the frontiers. Then he sent back the people of the country and went on with the residents on the borders until he entered the forest. And passing beyond the domain of men, he sent back the border people, too. He proceeded quite alone on a road thirty leagues long. He passed a dense growth of kuça and other grasses, thickets of basil, reeds, clumps of thick-thorn and canes, thickets of mixed growth, jungles of reed and cane, dense forest growth—impenetrable even to a snake—thickets of trees and bamboos, tracts of mud and water, mountain tracts, 18 regions in all, one after another.

He cut the jungles of grass with a sickle. Likewise, he cleared the thickets of basil with his instrument for cutting bamboo. He felled the trees with an axe. He first pierced the oversized ones with an auger. Then, pursuing his way, he fashioned a ladder in the bamboo grove. He climbing to the top of the thicket and laid a single bamboo, which he had cut, over the next clump of bamboos. And so, creeping along on the top of the thicket, he reached a bog. He spread a dry plank on the mud, and stepping on it, he threw another plank in front of him, and in this way he crossed the bog.

Next he made a canoe with which he crossed the flooded region. At last he stood at the foot of the mountains. He bound the three-pronged grappling-iron with a rope. He threw it so that it lodged in the mountain. Then climbing up by the rope, he drilled the mountain with an iron staff tipped with diamond. And knocking a peg into the hole, he stood on it. Then drawing out the grappling-iron, he once more lodged it high up on the mountain. From this position he let the leather rope hang down. He took hold of it and descended, fastening the rope on the peg below. Then seizing the rope with his left hand and taking a hammer in his right, he struck a blow on the rope. Then he pulled out the peg and continued to climb.

In this way he climbed to the top of the first mountain. Then he descended the other side, having knocked a peg into the top of the first mountain. He bound the rope on his leather sack and wrapped it around the peg. He sat in the sack and let himself down, uncoiling the rope like a spider letting out his thread. Then letting his leather parachute catch the wind, he flew down like a bird, or at least they say. The Master told how—in obedience to Subhaddā’s words—the hunter went from the city and traveled 17 different tracts until he reached a mountainous region. There he crossed over six mountains and climbed to the top of Golden Cliff:

The hunter hearing, unalarmed,

Set forth with bow and quiver armed,

And crossing o’er seven mountains vast

Reached noble Golden Cliff at last.

Gaining the goblin-haunted height,

What cloud-shaped mass bursts on his sight?

A royal banyan ‘tis whose roots

Support eight thousand spreading shoots.

There stood invincible in might

An elephant six-tusked and white,

With herd eight thousand strong for fight.

Their tusks to chariot-poles are like,

Wind-swift are they to guard or strike.

Hard by a pool—’tis full to the brim,

Fit place for royal beast to swim.

Its lovely banks with flowers abound

And buzzing bees swarm all around.

Marking the way the creature went

Whene’er on bathing thought intent,

He sunk a pit, to deed so mean

Urged by the wrath of spiteful Queen.

Here follows the story from beginning to end. The hunter, it is said, after seven years, seven months, and seven days, reached the home of the Great Being in the manner related above. He took note of his dwelling and dug a pit there, thinking, “I will take my stand here and wound the lord of elephants and bring about his death.” He arranged matters in this way. He went into the forest and cut down trees to make posts and prepared a lot of material. Then—when the elephants went to bathe, in the spot where the king elephant used to stand—he dug a square pit with a huge adze. The soil that he dug out he sprinkled on the top of the water, as if he were sowing seed, and he fixed posts on the top of stones like mortars. He fitted them with weights and ropes and spread planks over them. Next he made a hole the size of an arrow and threw earth and rubbish on the top. On one side, he made an entrance for himself.

At daybreak, when the pit was finished, he fastened a false top knot on his head, and he donned robes of yellow (to make him look like a brahmin priest). And, taking his bow and a poisoned arrow, he went down and stood in the pit.

The Master, to make the whole thing clear, said:

The pit with planks he first did hide,

Then bow in hand he got inside,

And as the elephant passed by,

A mighty shaft the wretch let fly.

The wounded beast loud roared with pain

And all the herd roared back again.

Crushed boughs and trampled grass betray

Where panic flight directs their way.

Their lord had nearly slain his foe,

So mad with pain was he, when lo!

A robe of yellow met his eyes,

Emblem of sainthood, priestly guise

And deemed inviolate by the wise.

The Master, falling into conversation with the hunter, spoke a couple of stanzas:

Whoever is marred with wicked taint

And void of truth and self-restraint,

Though robed in yellow he may be,

No claim to sanctity has he.

But one that’s free from wicked taint,

Imbued with truth and self-restraint,

And firmly fixed in righteousness,

Deserves to wear the yellow dress.

The Great Being—extinguishing all feeling of anger towards him, asked him, “Why did you wound me? Was it for yourself or were you corrupted by someone else?”

The Master explaining the matter then said:

The beast with mighty shaft laid low,

Unruffled still, addressed his foe,

“What object, friend, in slaying me,

And, pray, who instigated thee?”

Then the hunter told him and uttered this stanza:

The King of Kāsi’s favored Queen

Subhaddā told me she had seen

Your form in dreams, “and so,” said she,

“I’ll have his tusks. Go, bring them me.”

Hearing this, and recognizing that this was the work of Cullasubhaddā, he bore his sufferings patiently and thought, “She does not want my tusks. She sent him because she wants to kill me.” And to illustrate this, he uttered a couple of stanzas:

Rich store of goodly tusks have I,

Relics of my dead ancestry,

And this well knows that cursed dame,

‘Tis at my life the wretch does aim.

Rise, hunter, and before I die.

Saw off these tusks of ivory.

Go bid the shrew be of good cheer,

“The beast is slain, his tusks are here.”

Hearing his words, the hunter rose up from where he was sitting. And, saw in hand, he went close to him to cut off his tusks. Now the elephant, being like a mountain 80 cubits high, could not be cut because the man could not reach his tusks. So the Great Being, bending his body towards him, lay with his head down. Then the hunter climbed up the trunk of the Great Being. And pressing it with his feet as though it were a silver rope, he stood on his forehead like it was Kelāsa Peak. Then he inserted his foot into his mouth, and striking the fleshy part of it with his knee, he climbed down from the beast’s forehead and thrust the saw into his mouth.

The Great Being suffered excruciating pain. His mouth was riddled with blood. The hunter, shifting about from place to place, was still unable to cut the tusks with his saw. So the Great Being, letting the blood drop from his mouth, resigned himself to the agony. He asked, “Sir, can’t you cut them?” And on his saying “No,” he recovered his presence of mind and said, “Well then, since I do not have enough strength to raise my trunk, lift it up for me and let it seize the end of the saw.” The hunter did so. The Great Being seized the saw with his trunk and moved it backwards and forwards. In this way the tusks were cut off as if they were sprouts. Then encouraging him to take the tusks, he said, “I don’t give you these, friend hunter, because I do not value them, nor as one desiring the position of Sakka, Māra or Brahma. But the tusks of wisdom are a hundred thousand times dearer to me than these are, and may this meritorious act be to me the cause of attaining enlightenment.”

And as he gave him the tusks, he asked, “How long did it take you to get here?” “Seven years, seven months, and seven days.” “Go then by the magic power of these tusks, and you shall reach Benares in seven days.” And he gave him a safe conduct and let him go. And after he had sent him away, before the other elephants and Subhaddā had returned, he was dead.

The Master, to make the matter clear, said:

The hunter then the tusks did saw

From out that noble creature’s jaw,

And with his shining, matchless prize

Home with all speed he quickly flies.

Once he was gone, the herd of elephants could not find their enemy.

The Master, to make the matter clear, said:

Sad at his death and full of fright,

The herd that took to panic flight,

Seeing no trace of cruel foe,

Returned to find their chief laid low.

Subhaddā returned with them as well. They were all weeping and lamentating his loss. They went to the pacceka buddhas who had been so friendly to the Great Being. They said, “Sirs, he who supplied you with the necessities of life has died from the wound of a poisoned arrow. Come and see his dead body.”

The 500 pacceka buddhas passed through the air. They landed in the sacred enclosure. Two young elephants lifted the body of the king elephant with their tusks. They paid homage to the pacceka buddhas, then they raised it aloft on a pyre and burned it. All through the night the pacceka buddhas recited scriptures in the cemetery. The 80,000 elephants, after extinguishing the flames, bathed, and then returned home with Subhaddā at their head.

The Master, to make this matter clear, said:

They wept and wailed, as it is said,

Each heaping dust upon his head,

Then slow returning home were seen,

Behind their ever-gracious queen.

In seven days Sonuttara reached Benares with the tusks.

The Master, to make the matter clear, said:

The hunter straight to Kāsi flies

Bearing his bright and matchless prize

—The noble creature’s tusks, I mean,

Cheering all hearts with golden sheen—

And to that royal dame he said,

“Here are his tusks, the beast is dead.”

Now in offering them to the Queen, he said, “Lady, the elephant, against whom you conceived a grudge in your heart for a trifling offence, has been slain by me.” “Do you tell me that he is dead?” she cried. And he gave her the tusks, saying, “Be assured that he is dead. Here are his tusks.” She received the tusks with six different colored rays on her jeweled fan. And, placing them on her lap, she gazed at the tusks of the one who in a former existence had been her dear lord. She thought, “This fellow has come with the tusks he cut from the auspicious elephant that he killed with a poisoned shaft.” And at the memory of the Great Being, she was filled with such great sorrow that she could not endure it. Her heart broke then and there, and on that very day she died.

The Master, to make the story clear, said:

His tusks no sooner did she see

—Her own dear lord of old was he

Then straight her heart through grief did break

And she, poor fool, died for his sake.

When he, almighty and all wise,

Broke into smiles before their eyes,

Straightway these holy brothers thought,

“Sure Buddhas never smile for nought.”

“She whom you used to see,” he said,

“A yellow-robed ascetic maid,

Was once a queen and I,” he cried,

Was that king elephant who died.”

“The wretch who took those tusks so white,

Unmatched on earth, so shining bright,

And brought them to Benares town

Is now as Devadatta known.”

Buddha from his own knowledge told

This long-drawn tale of times of old,

In all its sad variety,

Though free from pain and grief was he.

That elephant of long ago

Was I, the king of all the band,

And, brothers, I would have you so

This birth rightly to understand.

These stanzas were recorded by elders as they chanted the Dharma and sang the praises of the Lord of all Power.