In a certain town lived a Brahmana named Yagnadatta, a learned man whose family had fallen into great poverty. His wife, troubled by their hardship, said to him every day, “Do you not see our children suffering from hunger while you remain here without effort? Go somewhere, even if you must travel far, and by your own effort find some means of getting food. Then return quickly.”

Her words pierced Yagnadatta’s heart. At last he left his home and set out on a journey. After travelling for several days, he entered a great forest. Hunger and thirst soon began to trouble him, and as he wandered through the forest, he searched everywhere for water.

At last, in a thickly overgrown place, he saw a large well hidden beneath the grass. He went near and looked inside. At the bottom were a tiger, a monkey, a snake, and a man. They too saw Yagnadatta standing above them.

The tiger called out, “O good man! To save a life is a great act of dharma. Remembering this, please pull me out of the well, so that I may return once more to my dear friends, my wife, my children, and my kin.”

Yagnadatta looked down at him and said, “Even the mention of your name brings fear to living creatures. How, then, can I come near you? Indeed, I am afraid of you.”

The tiger replied, “Even for very serious wrongs—killing a learned man, drinking liquor, stealing, or breaking one’s word—there may be a way to make amends. But when someone receives kindness and repays it with harm, such ingratitude is a wrong for which no amends can be made. I swear by my own life that you have nothing to fear from me. Have compassion and pull me out.”

Yagnadatta thought, “Even if there is danger in saving another creature’s life, it is still a worthy deed.” Thinking thus, he pulled the tiger out of the well.

The monkey then called to him, “O good man, please pull me out as well,” and Yagnadatta pulled him out. The snake too asked to be rescued, but Yagnadatta hesitated. “People are frightened even at the mention of a snake. How, then, can I dare to touch you?”

The snake replied, “We do not bite without cause. I swear by my own life that you have nothing to fear from me.” Hearing this assurance, Yagnadatta pulled the snake out as well.

The three animals then warned him, “That man who remains in the well is a dwelling place of wickedness. Do not pull him out, and do not place your trust in him.”

Before leaving, the tiger said, “Do you see that mountain with many peaks? On its northern side, hidden among the thickets, is a cave where I live. Come to me there someday, so that I may repay the kindness you have shown me. I do not wish to remain in your debt, even in another birth.” Having said this, the tiger went towards his cave.

The monkey said, “I too live near that cave, beside a waterfall. Come and visit me there.” Then he went away. The snake said, “Whenever you are in great need, remember me,” and he too departed.

The man who still remained in the well now called out again and again, “O good man! Please pull me out too!” Compassion arose in Yagnadatta’s heart. He thought, “After all, he is a fellow human being.” Despite the animals’ warning, he pulled the man out.

The man said, “I am a goldsmith, and I live in Bhrigukaccha. If you ever have gold that needs to be worked, bring it to me.” Having said this, the goldsmith went on his way.

Yagnadatta continued his journey, but though he wandered for a long time, he gained nothing. At last he decided to return home. On the way, he remembered the monkey’s words and went to visit him.

The monkey was glad to see Yagnadatta and offered him sweet fruits. After Yagnadatta had eaten and refreshed himself, the monkey said, “Whenever you need fruits, come to me.”

Yagnadatta replied, “You have already done much for me. But now, please show me where the tiger lives.” The monkey led him to the tiger’s cave.

The tiger recognized Yagnadatta at once and remembered the kindness he had received. Wishing to repay him, he brought out beautifully made golden ornaments and gave them to him. “Some time ago,” he said, “a prince came riding alone through this forest. His horse carried him into these thickets, where he died. These ornaments belonged to him. I kept them safely for you. Take them now and go wherever you wish.”

Yagnadatta accepted the ornaments and remembered the goldsmith whom he had rescued from the well. “He told me to come to him if ever I had gold,” he thought. “He will help me with these ornaments.” So he went to the goldsmith’s house.

The goldsmith welcomed him with great respect. He gave him water to wash, offered him a seat, and served him food and drink. Then he asked, “Tell me, what can I do for you?”

“I have brought some gold,” Yagnadatta replied. “I would like you to help me sell it.”

“Let me see it,” said the goldsmith. Yagnadatta showed him the ornaments, and the moment the goldsmith saw them, he recognized them. “These are the very ornaments I once made for the prince!” he thought.

But he said nothing of this to Yagnadatta. Instead he said, “Remain here for a while. I will show these ornaments to someone who may wish to buy them.” Taking the ornaments with him, he went straight to the king and showed them to him.

The king recognized them and asked, “Where did you get these ornaments?”

“A man named Yagnadatta is staying at my house,” replied the goldsmith. “He brought them to me.”

The king thought, “Surely this man killed my son and took his ornaments.” He called his guards and ordered them to go to the goldsmith’s house, seize Yagnadatta, and bind him. When the night had passed, he was to be put to death.

As Yagnadatta sat bound, awaiting his punishment, he remembered the snake he had rescued from the well. No sooner had he remembered him than the snake came and asked, “What can I do for you?”

“Find some way to free me from these bonds,” Yagnadatta replied.

The snake said, “I will bite the king’s beloved queen. Many healers will try their charms, mantras, and medicines, but none will be able to free her from the poison. Only when you touch her with your hand will the poison leave her. Then you will be freed.”

Having said this, the snake went to the palace and bit the queen. At once cries of distress arose throughout the palace, and soon the whole city was troubled. Snake-charmers, men skilled in mantras, and healers who knew remedies for poison were called from many lands. Each tried everything he knew, but none could free the queen from the poison.

At last an announcement was made throughout the city that anyone who could cure the queen should come forward. When Yagnadatta heard it, he called out, “I can free the queen from the poison.” The guards released him from his bonds and brought him before the king.

The king said, “If you can save her, then do so.” Yagnadatta went to the queen and touched her with his hand. At that very moment, the poison left her, and she recovered.

Seeing the queen restored to health, the king honoured Yagnadatta and asked him, “Now tell me the truth. How did you come to possess those golden ornaments?”

Yagnadatta told him everything exactly as it had happened, from the day he found the tiger, the monkey, the snake, and the man trapped in the well. Hearing the whole account, the king understood the truth: Yagnadatta had done no harm to the prince. The goldsmith had betrayed the very man who had once saved his life.

The king had the deceitful goldsmith seized and punished for his treachery. He then honoured Yagnadatta and appointed him as one of his ministers. Yagnadatta brought his family to live with him, and surrounded by his family, friends, and kin, he lived happily while carrying the responsibilities of the kingdom entrusted to him.

Damanaka continued, “Therefore I say: ‘Because I spared the tiger, the monkey, and the snake, I was later ruined by an ungrateful man.’

“Even one who is close to us must be stopped when he is going seriously astray—whether he is a kinsman, a friend, a teacher, or even a king. If he cannot be turned from that path, one must keep away from him and act with care. Maharaj, Sanjivaka has turned against you. What more need be said?

“Even a well-meaning friend should be stopped when anger drives him towards a wrongful act. The wise have declared this to be the conduct of a good man; to act otherwise is not right.

“A true kinsman is one who saves us from trouble. A worthy deed is one that is free from blame. A faithful wife is one who stands beside her husband. A wise man is one whom good people honour. True prosperity is that which does not give rise to pride. Happy is the man who is not ruled by endless desire. A true friend is one who remains steady, and a good man is one whose conduct gives no cause for blame.

“A minister who has been allowed too much freedom should not simply be trusted and kept close again. Some dangers, once allowed to grow, are not easily brought under control. Maharaj, your attachment to Sanjivaka has become a chain upon you. I have told you what I believe to be wise. If you choose otherwise and sorrow comes later, the fault should not be laid upon your servants.

“A king ruled by his desires pays no attention to what should be done or to what is truly for his good. He goes where he pleases, like a wild elephant. Then, when his own conduct brings him dishonour and he falls into sorrow, he blames his servants without seeing his own fault.”

Pingalaka said, “Good friend, if this is so, what should be done with Sanjivaka? Should he be sent away?”

Damanaka replied, “If he has truly become an enemy, merely sending him away will not end the matter. Some dangers must be met by action, not by words. An enemy, like a dangerous illness, must be stopped before the harm grows greater.”

Pingalaka said, “But Sanjivaka eats grass, while we eat flesh. How can he harm me?”

Damanaka replied, “It is true, Maharaj. He is a grass-eater and you are a flesh-eater. He may not strike you himself, but one who cannot strike may still cause another to strike. A whetstone cannot cut anything by itself, yet it sharpens the sword that can.

“O King, many fierce creatures dwell around you because of your power. Even the weak grow bold when they find strength beside them. Thus one who cannot harm you with his own strength may still bring harm through another.

“And one should never give shelter to someone whose nature and conduct are unknown. For because of another creature’s wrongdoing, the louse Mandavisarpini lost her life.”

Pingalaka asked, “How did that happen?” Damanaka replied, “Listen.”