Once upon a time, I was living in a certain tree. In the hollow, at the foot of the tree, lived a partridge, by the name of Kapinjala. In the course of time, we became good friends. Every day, at sunset, we would return home and tell each other stories about Rishis and such things, and talk over together what had happened during the day. In this way, we passed our time very contentedly.
One day, Kapinjala went off, with some other partridges, to another part of the country, which was full of ripe rice. When he did not return at nightfall, I became very worried and thought to myself, “Oh dear, why hasn’t Kapinjala returned home today? Has he been caught in a trap or has somebody killed him? I am sure he would have returned if he was safe, for he can’t live without me!”
And so, I spent several days worrying.
One day, at nightfall, a hare, by the name of Sheeghraga, came and took over the hole in the tree. As I had given up all hope of ever seeing Kapinjala again, I did not object in any way to his occupying the place.
Meanwhile, Kapinjala, who had become fat from eating the ripe rice, suddenly remembered his former home and came back. When he found the hare living in his house, he objected very strongly and said to him, “Hare! You have taken my home! That’s very unfair of you! Leave immediately!”
“Oh, but this place is mine now,” said the hare, “for they say: ‘A well, a pond, a temple and a tree, Once given up by their owners, Cannot be reclaimed.’ Now, this precept, enjoined by the sages for human beings, is also applicable to birds and animals. So this place is mine and not yours.”
“Hare!” said Kapinjala. “If you are quoting the shastras, then let us approach someone who is well versed in them and we’ll let him decide who is to have the place.”
Both agreed to this suggestion and set off together to have their dispute decided by a Shastri.
“Out of curiosity,” continued the crow, “I followed them, thinking to myself, “I would very much like to hear the decision in this case!”
Now, a wild tomcat, by the name of Teekshnadaunstra, came to know about their dispute. He went and stood in their path, on the bank of the river. In his paw he held a blade of Kusha grass. He closed his eyes, stood on his hind legs, facing the sun, and began giving a discourse on morals.
“Ah! Life is transitory and this world is futile. The company of loved ones is nothing but a dream and the presence of the family like the trick of a conjurer. They say: ‘Our bodies are perishable. And even our money does not last forever. We face death continually, So we must live according to the shastras. A man who passes his days irreligiously, Is like an ironsmith’s bellows Which breathes, yet has no life.’ Why make a long story of it? I’ll tell you what religion is, in a nutshell. To do good to others is virtuous but harming others is a sin.”
When the hare heard this religious discourse, he said to the partridge, “Kapinjala! This fellow, sitting on the bank of the river, is a Tapasvi and an exponent of religion. Let us go and ask his opinion.”
“All right,” said Kapinjala, “but he is a wild tomcat and our natural enemy, so we should talk to him from a very long way off.”
And so, standing at a distance, they both said to him, “Tapasvi! There is a dispute between us. Give us your opinion, in accordance with the shastras, and whichever of us is in the wrong, you can eat up.”
“My friends,” said the tomcat, “please don’t talk like that! I have given up that violent way of life which leads directly to hell. The sages have declared non-violence to be the essence of true religion. It’s wrong to kill even lice, bugs, and mosquitoes, so I shall certainly not kill you. However, I will decide who wins and who loses in this dispute. But I am old and I can’t hear what it’s all about from so far away. So come nearer and present your case, so that I can decide in such a way, that I am not held blameworthy in the next world, for they say: ‘He who arbitrates unjustly, Out of pride, avarice, anger or fear, Shall surely go to hell.’ So, have confidence in me and speak the facts clearly in my ears. What more is there for me to say?”
And so, this wicked tomcat inspired so much confidence in the partridge and the hare, that they came and sat close to him. Immediately, he seized one of them in his teeth and the other in his claws, killed them both and ate them up.
“And so,” continued the crow, “that’s why I said, “The hare and the partridge were destroyed Because they chose a sly and vicious arbitrator.”
“Now, if you choose this blind-by-day owl to be your king, you are following the path of the hare and the partridge. Realize this and act accordingly.”
When the birds heard the crow, they said to one another, “He is right. We’ll meet some other time and select another king.” And then they all flew off, except the crow, the owl, and the owl’s wife, Krikalika.
The owl was still waiting to be crowned king. He turned to his wife and said, “What is all this? Why hasn’t the ceremony to crown me begun yet?”
“This crow has put an obstacle in the way of your being crowned,” said his wife. “All the other birds have flown away, only this crow has stayed behind, for some reason. And so we had better go home too.”
When the owl heard this, he was disappointed and said to the crow, “Wicked crow! What harm have I done you, that you should put obstacles in the way of my being crowned king? From now on there shall be enmity between you and me; and between your kind and my kind, for they say: “The wound caused by an arrow or a sword may heal, But not the wound caused by sharp words.”
With these words, the owl returned to his place, with his wife.
When they had gone, the crow thought to himself, “Why ever did I talk like that and pick up a quarrel with the owl? They say: “A wise man, even if he is very strong, Never makes enemies for himself.” And, “No wise man should speak ill of others In an assembly, even if it is the truth, For it may lead to his own downfall.”
With this thought, the crow too went home.
“And that, Your Majesty,” continued Sthirajeevi, the minister, “is the reason why, ever since, there has been enmity between crows and owls.”
Then Meghavarana, the crow king, said to him, “Tata, as this is how things stand, what should we do?”
“Your Majesty,” replied Sthirajeevi, “intrigue is the only thing that will work. I mean to use this method personally and so destroy the enemy. As they say: ‘Through intrigue, three shrewd crooks Robbed a Brahmin of his goat.'”
“How was that?” asked Meghavarana.
And Sthirajeevi told: THE STORY OF THE BRAHMIN AND THE THREE CROOKS
