Pāli · Jātaka verses (Pāli, Mahāsaṅgīti)This verse is not included in this edition.
English · E. B. Cowell (ed.), R. Chalmers, W. H. D. Rouse, H. T. Francis, R. A. NeilOnce on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born a jackal, and dwelt in a ‘charnel-grove with a great following of jackals of whom he was king. And at that time there was a festival held at Rajagaha, and a very wet festival it was, with everybody drinking hard. Now a parcel of rogues got hold of victual and drink in abundance, and putting on their best clothes sang and made merry over their fare. By midnight the meat was all gone, though the liquor still held out. Then on one asking for more meat and being told there was none left, said the fellow, ‘“‘Victuals never lack while I am about. I'll off to the charnel-grove, kill a jackal prowling about to eat the corpses, and bring back some meat.” So saying he snatched up a club and made his way out of the city by the sewer to the place, where he lay down, club in hand, feigning to be dead. Just then, followed by the other jackals, the Bodhisatta came up and marked the pretended corpse. Suspecting the fraud, he determined to sift the matter. So he went round to the lee side and knew by the scent that the man was not really dead. Resolving to make the man look foolish before leaving him, the Bodhisatta stole near and took hold of the club with his teeth and tugged at it. The rascal did not leave go: not perceiving the Bodhisatta’s approach, he took a tighter grip. Hereon the Bodhisatta stepped back a pace or two and said, “My good man, if you had been dead, you would not have tightened your grip on your club when I was tugging at it, and so have betrayed yourself.” So saying, he uttered this stanza:—