oil, and rice in their carts; and travelled during the night. And at daybreak they formed an encampment, and spread an awning over it, and taking their meals early, they passed the day sitting in the shade. At sunset they supped; and when the ground had become cool, they yoked their oxen and went on. The travelling was like a voyage over the sea: a so-called land-pilot had to be chosen, and he brought the caravan safe to the other side by his knowledge of the stars.
On this occasion the merchant of our story traversed the desert in that way. And when he had passed over fifty-nine leagues he thought, "Now in one more night we shall get out of the sand," and after supper he directed the wood and water to be thrown away, and the waggons to be yoked; and so set out. The pilot had cushions arranged on the foremost cart, and lay down looking at the stars, and directing them where to drive. But worn out by want of rest during the long march, he fell asleep, and did not perceive that the oxen had turned round and taken the same road by which they had come.
The oxen went on the whole night through. Towards dawn the pilot woke up, and, observing the stars, called out, "Stop the waggons, stop the waggons!" The day broke just as they had stopped, and were drawing up the carts in a line. Then the men cried out, "Why, this is the very encampment we left yesterday! Our wood and water is all gone! We are lost!" And unyoking the oxen, and spreading the canopy over their heads, they lay down, in despondency, each one under his waggon.
But the Bodisat, saying to himself, "If I lose heart, all these will perish," walked about while the morning was yet cool. And on seeing a tuft of Kusa-grass, he thought,
