old servant of my father’s
o was over
wh
powered and, like
yself, had been made prisoner without a wound. Gath‐
red i
ir
hich
apart in the struggle with Sātāgira (it was a chain
an
ss
ld
ither, carrying to the revellers the streaming
esh
t
ere,
d
n
roused
ith s
and
the
m
e
n groups round about us, under the shady roof of
the gigantic tree, the robbers indulged themselves to the
hearts’ content. The crystal chain with the tiger‐eye, w
was torn
which my good mother had hung round my neck as
amulet at parting) was rent from me by Angulimāla’s
murderous hand. But much more distressing was the lo
of the Asoka flower, which I had constantly carried over
my heart since that night on the Terrace. I believed I cou
see it not far from me, a little red flame in the trampled
grass on the very spot where the youngest robbers ran
hither and th
fl
of oxen which had been hastily slaughtered and
roasted and, which was even more agreeable to the thirsty
passions of that coarse throng, calabashes filled with
alcoholic spirits.
It was to me as though they trampled on my hear
every time I saw my poor Asoka flower disappear under
their foul feet, to reappear a moment later less luminous
than before, until at length I could see it no longer. I
wondered whether Vāsitthī now stood beneath the
Sorrowless tree pleading for news. How good, if she w
that it could not tell her where I then was, for she would
certainly have yielded up her tender spirit and died ha
she seen me in such a condition. Not more than a doze
paces away the formidable Angulimāla himself ca
w
everal of his cronies. The bottle circulated freely
the faces of the robbers — with the exception of one of
whom I will speak later — became more and more
flushed while they carried on conversations full of noisy
animation and excitement, and now and again broke into
open quarrel.
At that time, unfortunately, an understanding of
65
language of the robbers had not been added to my many
accomplishments — from which one may see how little
human beings can discern what acquisitions are likely to
e of
I
d
f.
e
e
lessly squandered
any
in
b
most service to them. How more than glad would
have been to be able to comprehend the gist of their
raucous talk, for I did not doubt that it concerned me an
my fate. Their faces and gestures showed me as much
with gruesome plainness; and the tongues of flame, which
from time to time flashed over to me from beneath the
dark bushy brows of the robber captain, brought home
with much bitterness the loss of my amulet against the evil
eye, which I could now see gleaming amongst the severed
fingers on the shaggy breast of the demon‐king himsel
My feeling was not at fault for, as I later learned, I had cut
down a favourite of Angulimāla’s before his very eyes —
one who was, moreover, the best swordsman in the whol
band. The captain had only refrained from killing me on
the spot for the reason that he wanted to slake his thirst for
vengeance by seeing me slowly tortured to death. But th
others were not inclined to see such a rich prize, which
belonged by right to the whole band, use
in
such way. A bald‐headed, smooth‐shaven
robber, who looked as though he might be a priest, struck
me as the man who chiefly differed in view from Anguli‐
māla, and the only one who understood how to curb the
savage. He was also the only one whose face retained its
composure during the drinking. After a long dispute,
the course of which Angulimāla sprang up a couple of
times and reached for his sword, victory fell — fortunately
for me — to the professional aspect of the case.
*
*
*
It should be mentioned that Angulimāla’s band
belonged to the clan of robbers known as The Senders,
66
so‐called because it was one of their rules that, of two
prisoners, one should be sent to raise the money required
a
eason they were known as The Senders. To
is e
had proved himself to be,
s on a
alm‐
other
teal
e
as
for the ransom they demanded for the other. If they took
father and son prisoner, they bade the father go and bring
the ransom for the son; of two brothers, they sent the
elder; if a teacher with his disciple had fallen into their
hands, then the disciple was sent; had a master and his
servant been caught, then the servant was obliged to go
— for this r
th
nd they had, as was usual with them, spared my
father’s old servant when they butchered all the rest of my
people; for, although somewhat advanced in years, he
was still very active, and looked intelligent and experi‐
enced — which indeed he
seeing that he had already successfully conducted several
caravans.
He was now freed from his fetters and sent away
that same evening, after I had given him a confidential
message to my parents from which they would be able to
see that there was no deception about the matter. But
before he set out, Angulimāla scratched some mark
p
leaf and handed it to him. It was a kind of pass of
safe‐conduct, in case he should fall into the hands of
robbers on the way back with the money. For Anguli‐
māla’s name was so feared that robbers who dared to s
royal presents from the King’s highway would never hav
had the audacity even to touch anything that was his.
My chains were also soon taken off, as they knew
well that I would not be so foolish as to attempt to escape.
The first use I put my freedom to was to fling myself down
on the spot where I had seen the Asoka flower disappear.
Alas! I could not even discover a remnant of it. The deli‐
cate fragment of flaming flower seemed to have been
trampled to dust under the coarse feet of the robbers. W
it a symbol of our life‐happiness?
67
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