From this time, both morning and evening, along with the rats, he danced attendance upon the Bodhisat.
After his service was over, on the return of the rats the jackal caught the hindmost and ate its flesh. Having swallowed it, he wiped his mouth and stood in his former position on one leg.
In course of time the rats found their number getting diminished. Thereupon they informed the Bodhisat of the matter, saying, "Formerly these quarters of ours were not large enough for us, and we were closely packed, but now our ranks are so thinned that there's room enough and to spare. Now how has that come about?"
The Bodhisat, in trying to discover the cause of the rats becoming so diminished, began to suspect the jackal, and determined to try him. So when the time for attendance came he let the rats go in front while he himself kept in the rear. The jackal made a spring at him.
When the Bodhisat saw the jackal preparing to make a spring for the purpose of seizing him he stepped aside, saying, "jackal, your undertaking of religious vows does not arise from any inclination to goodness, but you go about under the guise of virtue[1] in order to injure others." Then he spake the following gâtha:—
"Who outwardly a saint doth seem,
But secretly will sin commit,
And brings confiding folk to grief,
His virtue is a cat's, I say."[2]
As soon as the rat-king had made an end of speaking he darted at the jackal and fastened on his throat just below the chin; biting the windpipe, he severed the carotid artery, and so killed the jackal. The troop of rats, having turned back, devoured their enemy, making a great "crunching," and departed.
Only those that came first had a share of the flesh, those that came after got nothing. From that time forward the troop of rats became free from fear.
(To be continued.)
