Note 19 — Chapter XXII

In the meanwhile Śankachúḍa came there, having worshipped Gokarṇa, and saw the rock of execution sprinkled with many drops of blood; then he thought—“Alas! surely that great-hearted one has offered himself for me, so I wonder where Garuḍa has taken him in this short time. I must search for him quickly, perhaps I may find him.” Accordingly the good snake went following up the track of the blood. And in the meanwhile Garuḍa, seeing that Jímútaváhana was pleased, left off eating and thought with wonder: “This must be some one else, other than I ought to have taken, for though I am eating him, he is not at all miserable, on the contrary the resolute one rejoices.” While Garuḍa was thinking this, Jímútaváhana, though in such a state, said to him in order to attain his object: “O king of birds, in my body also there is flesh and blood; then why have you suddenly stopped eating, though your hunger is not appeased?” When he heard that, that king of birds, being overpowered with astonishment, said to him—“Noble one, you are not a snake, tell me who you are.” Jímútaváhana was just answering him, “I am a snake,19 so eat me, complete what you have begun, for men of resolution never leave unfinished an undertaking they have begun,” when Śankachúḍa arrived and cried out from afar, “Stop, stop, Garuḍa, he is not a snake, I am the snake meant for you, so let him go, alas! how have you suddenly come to make this mistake?” On hearing that, the king of birds was excessively bewildered, and Jímútaváhana was grieved at not having accomplished his desire. Then Garuḍa, learning, in the course of their conversation20 with one another, that he had begun to devour by mistake the king of the Vidyádharas, was much grieved. He began to reflect, “Alas! in my cruelty I have incurred sin. In truth those who follow evil courses easily contract guilt. But this great-hearted one who has given his life for another, and despising21 the world, which is altogether under the dominion of illusion, come to face me, deserves praise.” Thinking thus, he was about to enter the fire to purify himself from guilt, when Jímútaváhana said to him: “King of birds, why do you despond? If you are really afraid of guilt, then you must determine never again to eat these snakes: and you must repent of eating all those previously devoured, for this is the only remedy available in this case, it was idle for you ever to think of any other.” Thus Jímútaváhana, full of compassion for creatures, said to Garuḍa, and he was pleased and accepted the advice of that king, as if he had been his spiritual preceptor, determining to do what he recommended; and he went to bring nectar from heaven to restore to life rapidly that wounded prince, and the other snakes, whose bones only remained. Then the goddess Gaurí, pleased with Jímútaváhana’s wife’s devotion to her, came in person and rained nectar on him: by that his limbs were reproduced with increased beauty, and the sound of the drums of the rejoicing gods was heard at the same time. Then, on his rising up safe and sound, Garuḍa brought the nectar of immortality22 from heaven, and sprinkled it along the whole shore of the sea. That made all the snakes there rise up alive, and then that forest along the shore of the sea, crowded with the numerous tribe of snakes, appeared like Pátála23 come to behold Jímútaváhana, having lost its previous dread of Garuḍa. Then Jímútaváhana’s relations congratulated him, having seen that he was glorious with unwounded body and undying fame. And his wife rejoiced with her relations, and his parents also. Who would not joy at pain ending in happiness? And with his permission Śankachúḍa departed to Rasátala,24 and without it his glory, of its own accord, spread through the three worlds. Then, by virtue of the favour of the daughter of the Himálaya all his relations, Matanga and others, who were long hostile to him, came to Garuḍa, before whom the troops of gods were inclining out of love, and timidly approaching the glory of the Vidyádhara race, prostrated themselves at his feet. And being entreated by them, the benevolent Jímútaváhana went from that Malaya mountain to his own home, the slope of the Himálaya. There, accompanied by his parents and Mitrávasu and Malayavatí, the resolute one long enjoyed the honour of emperor of the Vidyádharas. Thus a course of fortunate events always of its own accord follows the footsteps of all those, whose exploits arouse the admiration of the three worlds. When the queen Vásavadattá heard this story from the mouth of Yaugandharáyaṇa, she rejoiced, as she was eager to hear of the splendour of her unborn son. Then, in the society of her husband, she spent that day in conversation about her son, who was to be the future king of the Vidyádharas, which was suggested by that story, for she placed unfailing reliance upon the promise of the favouring gods.