Indian Tales of The Great Ones/The Man who made himself an Archer
The Man who made himself an Archer
There was a Master-Archer whose name was Drona: and it was he who taught all the princes of India to shoot, so that none could conquer them.
Now he was jealous for the honour of the princes. And there came to him one named Ekalavya, the king of a caste that was not the soldier-caste, who said: "Teach me to shoot."
But Drona made answer: "You are not of the knightly caste. I cannot teach you." For he was afraid that the low-caste man might become the equal of the high-born princes.
Then Ekalavya went away very sadly to the forest, and built a shrine to Drona, the Master-Archer. And he thought about him, and fasted and prayed night and day for skill in shooting: and night and day he practised ceaselessly, shooting arrows into the distance—shooting and shooting. And he forgot the riches of his palace and all the pleasures of the world, in reaching out to his great desire.
One day Drona and the high-born princes were out shooting in the forest, and they had with them a dog. And the dog strayed from the princes and lost his way, barking in the darkness for his masters, not far from the shrine of Ekalavya.
And Ekalavya heard, and shot an arrow in the direction of the sound; and the arrow went straight into the dog's mouth.
And the dog ran howling to his masters. And they were very angry; for said they, "Someone who can shoot has sent this arrow into the dog's 
Ekalavya at the shrine
mouth." And they made the dog show them the way to the shrine, and there was Ekalavya shooting ceaselessly.
"Who are you," said the princes, "who have skill in shooting even as ourselves?"
"I am Ekalavya," said he, "a pupil of the great Master-Archer Drona."
So the princes went and told Drona, and he came back with them to the shrine in the forest.
"How say you," said Drona, "that you are my pupil?"
"Because I have taught myself to shoot, thinking only of you and your great skill in shooting."
Then said Drona, "If you are my pupil, give me the fee due to a Master."
"Most gladly," said Ekalavya, a great joy in his face. "Ask what you will. I have nothing I would not give with all my heart."
"Is that true?" said Drona. "Well then, I ask the thumb of your right hand."
And Ekalavya, allowing no look of sadness to spoil his gift, cut off his thumb, without a word, and laid it at the feet of the Master-Archer. But Drona spurned it, and walked away.
Then Ekalavya turned again to his shooting. But he found that, with the loss of his thumb, his skill had gone for ever.
So were the great ones left without a rival.
But in Heaven the Gods said, "Ekalavya is truly of the knightly caste: and men knew it not."