"Your (poor) friend," answered he, "while bathing on the beach was carried off by a big wave." Whereat they all cried and roared and made a general wailing.
Then this thought occurred to them—"What's the use, indeed, of this sea-water to us? We'll bale out the water, empty the sea, and then get our friend out."
Then they all went on filling their mouths and spitting out the water. At last their throats got dry with the salt-water, and they all flew up and went on shore for a spell of rest. Their jaws were weary, their mouths dry, and their eyes red for want of sleep; then they addressed one another—"Oh! how's this? We have taken the sea-water and have poured it away outside (i.e., on the land), but the places from which we have taken the water are at once filled up again. We find it impossible to empty the sea.
"E'en now our weary jaws do ache,
Our mouths indeed are parched and dry.
We work and toil, no rest we have,
Yet still again the sea doth fill."
And when they had thus spoken they made a great lamentation, saying: "This crow had, indeed, such a (beautiful) beak, such well-rounded wings, such a (lovely) complexion and figure, such a sweet voice, and she is lost to us (for ever) through this thief of a sea." While they were thus bewailing, the sea-sprite appeared to them in a horrible form and put them to flight.
And in this way they (the sprites of the sea) got peace.
Sabbadâtha Jâtaka.[1]
Long, long ago, when Brahmadatta reigned at Benares, the Bodhisat, who was the domestic priest of the reigning sovereign, was well versed in the three vedas and the eighteen sciences, and was well acquainted, moreover, with a charm (mantra) for conquering the (whole) earth. (The meditation-charm is called the earth-conquering
- ↑ Jâtaka Book, vol. ii. No. 241, p. 243.
