Hitopadesha 1.56

1.56

ajñāta-kula-śīlasya vāso deyo na kasyacit |
mārjārasya hi doṣeṇa hato gṛdhro jarad-gavaḥ //

"Lodging must never be given to anyone whose family and character are unknown: / for through the fault of a cat, the vulture Jaradgava was killed."

1.56.p1

tau āhatuḥ--katham etat ?

The two said: "How did that happen?"

'No! how was that?' said both. 'In this wise,' answered the Crow.

1.56.p2

kākaḥ kathayati-
kathā 3

The crow tells: / Story 3

1.56.p3

asti bhāgīrathī-tīre gṛdhrakūṭa-nāmni parvate mahān parkaṭī-vṛkṣaḥ tasya koṭare daiva-durvipākāt galita-nakha-nayano jaradgava-nāmā gṛdhraḥ prativasati | atha kṛpayā taj-jīvanāya tad-vṛkṣa-vāsinaḥ pakṣiṇaḥ svāhārāt kiṃcit kiṃcid uddhṛtya tasmai dadati, tenāsau jīvati, teṣāṃ śāvaka-rakṣāṃ ca karoti | atha kadācit dīrghakarṇa-nāmā mārjāraḥ pakṣi-śāvakān bhakṣayituṃ tatrāgataḥ | tatas tam āyāntaṃ dṛṣṭvā pakṣi-śāvakair bhayārtaiḥ kolāhalaḥ kṛtaḥ | tac chrutvā jaradgavena uktam-ko 'yam āyāti ? dīrghakarṇo gṛdhram avalokya sa-bhayam āha-hā hato 'smi yato 'yaṃ māṃ vyāpādayiṣyati | athavā-

On the bank of the Bhāgīrathī, on a mountain named Gṛdhrakūṭa, there is a large waved-leaf fig tree. In its hollow, through an adverse turn of fate, lived a vulture named Jaradgava, whose claws and eyes had decayed. Now, out of pity, to keep him alive, the birds dwelling in that tree would each set aside a little from their own food and give it to him; by that he lived, and he protected their chicks. Now once, a cat named Dīrghakarṇa came there to eat the bird chicks. Then, seeing him approaching, the bird chicks, terrified, raised an outcry. Hearing that, Jaradgava said: "Who is this coming?" Dīrghakarṇa, beholding the vulture, said fearfully: "Alas, I am undone, for he will kill me! Or rather:

"On the banks of the Ganges there is a cliff called Vulture-Crag, and thereupon grew a great fig-tree.[1] It was hollow, and within its shelter lived an old Vulture, named Grey-pate, whose hard fortune it was to have lost both eyes and talons. The birds that roosted in the tree made subscriptions from their own store, out of sheer pity for the poor fellow, and by that means he managed to live. One day, when the old birds were gone, Long-ear, the Cat, came there to get a meal of the nestlings; and they, alarmed at perceiving him, set up a chirruping that roused Grey-pate.

'Who comes there?' croaked Grey-pate.

"Now Long-ear, on espying the Vulture, thought himself undone; but as flight was impossible, he resolved to trust his destiny and approach.