Panchatantra: The Four Treasure-Seekers

From The Panchatantra of Vishnu Sharma, translated by Arthur W. Ryder (1925).

The Four Treasure-Seekers

[Inside The Loyal Mongoose.]

In a certain town in the world were four Brahmans who lived as the best of friends. And being stricken with utter poverty, they took counsel together: "A curse, a curse on this business of being poor! For
The well-served master hates him still;
His loving kinsmen with a will
Abandon him; woes multiply,
While friends and even children fly;
His high-born wife grows cool; the flash
Of virtue dims; brave efforts crash -
For him who has no ready cash.

And again:
Charm, courage, eloquence, good looks,
And thorough mastery of books
(If money does not back the same)
Are useless in the social game.
"Better be dead than penniless. As the story goes:
A beggar to the graveyard hied
And there 'Friend corpse, arise,' he cried;
'One moment lift my heavy weight
Of poverty; for I of late
Grow weary, and desire instead
Your comfort: you are good and dead.'
The corpse was silent. He was sure
It was better to be dead than poor.
"So let us at any cost strive to make money. For the saying goes:
Money gets you anything,
Gets it in a flash:
Therefore let the prudent get
Cash, cash, cash.
"Now this cash comes to men in six ways. They are: (1) begging for charity, (2) flunkeyism at a court, (3) farm-work, (4) the learned professions, (5) usury, (6) trade.
"However, among all these methods of making money, trade is the only one without a hitch in it. For
Kings' favour is a thing unstable;
Crows peck at winnings charitable;
You make, in learning the professions.
Too many wearisome concessions
To teachers; farms are too much labour;
In usury you lend your neighbour

The cash which is your life, and therefore
You really live a poor man. Wherefore
I see in trade the only living
That can be truly pleasure-giving.
Hurrah for trade!
"Now profitable trade has seven branches. They are: (1) false weights and balances, (2) price-boosting* (3) keeping a pawnshop, (4) getting regular customers, (5) a stock company, (6) articles de luxe such as perfumes, (7) foreign trade.
"Now the economists say:
False weights and boosting prices to
An overshameless sum
And constant cheating of one's friends
Are fit for social scum.
And again:
Deposits in the house compel
The pawnshop man to pray:
If you will kill the owner, Lord,
I'll give you what you say.
Likewise:
The holder of a stock reflects
With glee, though one of many:
The wide world's wealth belongs to me;
No other gets a penny.
Furthermore:
Perfumery is first-class ware;
Why deal in gold and such?
Whatever the cost, you sell it for
A thousand times as much.

"Foreign trade is the affair of the capitalist. As the book says:
Wild elephants are caught by tame:
So money-kings, devising
A trap for money, capture it
With far-flung advertising.
The brisk commercial traveller,
Who knows the selling game,
Invests his money, and returns
With twice or thrice the same.
And again:
The crow, or good-for-nothing, or deer,
Afraid of foreign lands,
In heedless slothfulness is sure
To perish where he stands."
Having thus set their minds in order, and resolved on foreign travel, they said farewell to home and friends, and started, all four of them. Well, there is wisdom in the saying:
The man whose mind is money mad,
From all his kinsmen flees;
He hastens from his mother dear;
He breaks his promises;
He even goes to foreign lands
Which he would not elect
And leaves his native country. Well,
What else do you expect?
So in time they came to the Avanti country, where they bathed in the waters of the Sipra, and adored the great god Shiva. As they travelled farther, they met a master-magician named Terror-Joy. And having
 greeted him in proper Brahman fashion, they all accompanied him to his monastery cell. There the magician asked them where they came from, where they were going, and what was their object.
And they replied: "We are pilgrims, seeking magic power. We have resolved to go where we shall find enough money, or death. For the proverb says:
While water is given
By fate out of heaven,
If men dig a well,
It bubbles from hell.
Man's effort (sufficiently great)
Can equal the wonders of fate.
And again:
Success complete
In any feat
Is sure to bless
True manliness.
Man's effort (sufficiently great)
Is just what a dullard calls fate.
There is no toy
Called easy joy,
But man must strain
To body's pain.
Even Vishnu embraces his bride
With arms that the churn-stick has tried.
"So disclose to us some method of getting money, whether crawling into a hole, or placating a witch, or living in a graveyard, or selling human flesh, or anything. You are said to have miraculous magic, while we have boundless daring. You know the saying:

Only the great can aid the great
To win their heart's desire:
Apart from ocean, who could bear
The fierce subaqueous fire?"
So the magician, perceiving their fitness as disciples, made four magic quills, and gave one to each, saying: "Go to the northern slope of the Himalaya Mountains. And wherever a quill drops, there the owner will certainly find a treasure."
Now as they followed his directions, the leader's quill dropped. And on examining the spot, he found the soil all copper. So he said: "Look here! Take all the copper you want." But the others said: "Fool! What is the good of a thing which, even in quantity, does not put an end to poverty? Stand up. Let us go on." And he replied: "You may go. I will accompany you no farther." So he took his copper and was the first to turn back.
The three others went farther. But they had travelled only a little way when the leader's quill dropped. And when he dug down, he found the soil all silver. At this he was delighted, and cried: "Look! Take all the silver you want. No need of going farther."
"Fool!" said the other two. "The soil was copper first, then silver. It will certainly be gold ahead. This stuff, even in quantity, does not relieve poverty so much."
"You two may go," said he. "I will not join you." So he took his silver and turned back. The two went on until one quill dropped. When
 the owner dug down, he found the soil all gold. Seeing this, he was delighted, and said to his companion: "Look! Take all the gold you want. There is nothing beyond better than gold."
"Fool!" said the other. "Don't you see the point? First came copper, then silver, and then gold. Beyond there will certainly be gems. Stand up. Let us go farther. What is the good of this stuff? A quantity of it is a mere burden."
"You may go," he replied. "I will stay here and wait for you."
So the other went on alone. His limbs were scorched by the rays of the summer sun and his thoughts were confused by thirst as he wandered to and fro over the trails in the land of the fairies. At last, on a whirling platform, he saw a man with blood dripping down his body; for a wheel was whirling on his head. Then he made haste and said: "Sir, why do you stand thus with a wheel whirling on your head? In any case, tell me if there is water anywhere. I am mad with thirst."
The moment the Brahman said this, the wheel left the other's head and settled on his own. "My very dear sir," said he, "what is the meaning of this?"
"In the very same way," replied the other, "it settled on my head."
"But," said the Brahman, "when will it go away? It hurts terribly."
And the fellow said: "When someone who holds in his hand a magic quill such as you had, arrives and speaks as you did, then it will settle on his head."
"Well," said the Brahman, "how long were you
 here?" And the other asked: "Who is king in the world at present?"
On hearing the answer, "King Vinavatsa," he said: "When Rama was king, I was poverty stricken, procured a magic quill, and came here, just like you. And I saw another man with a wheel on his head and put a question to him. The moment I asked a question (just like you) the wheel left his head and settled on mine. But I cannot reckon the centuries."
Then the wheel-bearer asked: "My dear sir, how, pray, did you get food while standing thus?"
"My dear sir," said the fellow, "the god of wealth, fearful lest his treasures be stolen, prepared this terror, so that no magician might come so far. And if any should succeed in coming, he was to be freed from hunger and thirst, preserved from decrepitude and death, and was merely to endure this torture. So now permit me to say farewell. You have set me free from a sizable misery. Now I am going home." And he went.
After he had gone, the gold-finder, wondering why his companion delayed, eagerly followed his footprints. And having gone but a little way, he saw a man whose body was drenched with blood, a man tortured by a cruel wheel whirling on his head - and this man was his own companion. So he came near and asked with tears: "My dear fellow, what is the meaning of this?"
"A whim of fate," said the other.
"But tell me," said he, "what has happened." And in answer to his question, the other told the entire history of the wheel.
When the friend heard this, he scolded him, saying: "Well, I told you time and again not to do it. Yet from lack of sense you did not do as I said. Indeed, there is wisdom in the saying:
Scholarship is less than sense;
Therefore seek intelligence:
Senseless scholars in their pride
Made a lion; then they died."
"How was that?" asked the wheel-bearer. And the gold-finder told the story of
The Lion-Makers.*
"And that is why I say:
Scholarship is less than sense;
Therefore seek intelligence:
Senseless scholars in their pride
Made a lion; then they died."

But the wheel-bearer, having heard the story, retorted: "Not at all. The reasoning is at fault. For creatures of very great sense perish if stricken by fate, while those of very meagre intelligence, if protected by fate, live happily. There is a stanza:
While Hundred-Wit is on a head,
While Thousand-Wit hangs limp and dead,
Your humble Single-Wit, my dear,
Is paddling in the water clear."
"How was that?" asked the gold-finder. And the wheel-bearer told the story of
Hundred-Wit, Thousand-Wit, and Single-Wit*
"And that is why I say that intelligence is not the sole determinant of fate."
Then the gold-finder said: "It may be so. Yet a friend's advice should not be disregarded. But what happened? Spite of my dissuasion, you would not stop, such was your greed and pride in your scholarship. Yes, there is sense in the stanza:
Well sung, uncle! Why would you
Not stop when I told you to?
What a necklace! Yes, you wear
Music medals rich and rare."
"How was that?" asked the wheel-bearer. And the other told the story of
The Musical Donkey.*

"Just so, you would not stop when I advised it."
After listening to this, the wheel-bearer said: "O my friend, you are quite right. Yes, there is much wisdom in the verse:
He who, lacking wit, does not
Hearken to a friend,
Just like weaver Slow, inclines
To a fatal end."
"How was that?" asked the gold-finder. And the wheel-bearer told the story of The Weaver Slow.*

"And that is why I say:
He who, lacking wit, does not
Hearken to a friend,
Just like weaver Slow, inclines
To a fatal end."

Then the wheel-bearer continued: "Yes, any man becomes ridiculous when bitten by the demon of extravagant hope. There is sense in this:
Do not indulge in hopes
Extravagantly high:
Else, whitened like the sire
Of Moon-Lord, you will lie."
"How was that?" asked the gold-finder. And the other told the story of
The Brahman's Dream.*

"And that is why I say:
Do not indulge in hopes
Extravagantly high:
Else, whitened like the sire
Of Moon-Lord, you will lie."

"Very true, indeed," said the gold-finder. "For
Greedy folk who do not heed
Consequences of a deed,
Suffer disappointment soon;
For example take King Moon."
"How was that?" asked the wheel-bearer. And the other told the story of
The Unforgiving Monkey.*

"And that is why I say:
Greedy folk who do not heed
Consequences of a deed,
Suffer disappointment soon;
For example take King Moon."

Then the gold-finder continued: "Please bid me farewell. I wish to go home." But the wheel-bearer answered: "How can you go, leaving me in this plight? You know the proverb:
Whoever through hard-heartedness
Deserts a friend in his distress,
For such ingratitude must pay -
To hell he treads the certain way."
"That is true," said the gold-finder, "in case one able to aid deserts a friend in a remediable situation. But this situation has no human remedy, and I shall never have the ability to set you free. Besides, the more I gaze at your face, distorted with pain from the whirling wheel, the surer I feel that I am going to
 leave this spot at once, lest perchance the same calamity befall me, too. There is some point in this:
To judge by the expression,
Friend monkey, on your face,
You have been caught by Twilight -
He lives who wins the race."
"How was that?" asked the wheel-bearer. And the other told the story of
The Credulous Fiend.*

Then the gold-finder continued: "Bid me farewell. I desire to go home. You may stay here and taste the fruit of the tree of your waywardness."
"Oh," said the wheel-bearer, "that is uncalled for. Good or evil comes by fate's decree to men well-behaved or wayward. As the old verse puts it:
Blind man, hunchback, and unblest
Princess with an extra breast -
Waywardness is prudence, when
Fortune favours wayward men."

"How was that?" asked the gold-finder. And the wheel-bearer told the story of
The Three-Breasted Princess.*

"And that is why I say:
Blind man, hunchback, and unblest
Princess with an extra breast -
Waywardness is prudence, when
Fortune favours wayward men."

Then the gold-finder said: "Yes, you are quite right in saying that good fortune always comes through the favour of fate. Yet, after all, a man should make fate his own, and not desert prudence, as you did in rejecting my advice."
With this the gold-finder bade him farewell and started home.