# The Katha Sarit Sagara/Chapter 8

CHAPTER VIII.
In accordance with this request of Gunádhya that heavenly tale consisting of seven stories was told by Kánabhúti in his own language, and Gunádhya for his part using the same Paiśácha language threw them into seven hundred thousand couplets in seven years; and that great poet, for fear that the Vidyádharas should steal his composition, wrote it with his own blood in the forest, not possessing ink. And so the Vidhyádharas, Siddhas and other demigods came to hear it, and the heaven above where Kánabhúti was reciting, was, as it were, continually covered with a canopy. And Kánabhúti, when he had seen that great tale composed by Gunádhya, was released from his curse and went to his own place. There were also other Piśáchas that accompanied him in his wanderings: they too all of them attained heaven, having heard that heavenly tale. Then that great poet ​ Gunádhya began to reflect, "I must make this Great Tale* of mine current on the earth, for that is the condition that the goddess mentioned when she revealed how my curse would end. Then how shall I make it current? To whom shall I give it?" Then his two disciples that had followed him, one of whom was called Gunadeva, and the other Nandideva said to him, "The glorious Sátaváhana alone is a fit person to give this poem to, for being a man of taste he will diffuse the poem far and wide, as the wind diffuses the perfume of the flower." "So be it," said Gunádhya, and gave the book to those two accomplished disciples and sent them to that king with it; and went himself to that same Pratishthána, but remained outside the city in the garden planted by the goddess, where he arranged that they should meet him. And his disciples went and showed the poem to king Sátaváhana, telling him at the same time that it was the work of Gunádhya. When he heard that Paiśácha language and saw that they had the appearance of Piśáchas, that king, led astray by pride of learning, said with a sneer, "The seven hundred thousand couplets are a weighty authority, but the Paiśácha language is barbarous, and the letters are written in blood; away with this Paiśácha tale." Then the two pupils took the book, and returned by the way which they came, and told the whole circumstance to Gunádhya. Gunádhya for his part, when he heard it, was immediately overcome with sorrow; who indeed is not inly grieved when scorned by a competent authority? Then he went with his disciples to a craggy hill at no great distance, in an unfrequented but pleasant spot, and first prepared a consecrated fire cavity. Then he took the leaves one by one, and after he had read them aloud to the beasts and birds, he flung them into the fire while his disciples looked on with tearful eyes. But he reserved one story, consisting of one hundred thousand couplets, containing the history of Naraváhanadatta, for the sake of his two disciples, as they particularly fancied it. And while he was reading out and burning that heavenly tale, all the deer, boars, buffaloes and other wild animals, came there, leaving the pasturage, and formed a circle around him, listening with tears in their eyes, unable to quit the spot. †
In the meanwhile king Sátaváhana fell sick. And the physicians said that his illness was due to eating meat wanting in nutritive qualities. And when the cooks were scolded for it, they said- "The hunters bring in to us flesh of this kind." And when the hunters were taken to task, they said,- "On a hill not very far from here there is a Bráhman reading, who throws into the fire every leaf as soon as he has read it; so all the animals go there and listen without ever grazing, they never wander anywhere else, consequently this flesh of theirs is wanting in nutritive properties on ac​ count of their going without food." When he heard this speech of the hunters he made them shew him the way, and out of curiosity went in person to see Gunádhya, and he beheld him owing to his forest life over-spread with matted locks, that looked like the smoke of the fire of his curse, that was almost extinguished.
Then the king recognized him as he stood in the midst of the weeping animals, and after he had respectfully saluted him, he asked him for an explanation of all the circumstances. That wise Bráhman then related to the king in the language of the demons his own history as Pushpadanta, giving an account of the curse and all the circumstances which originated the descent of the tale to earth. Then the king, discovering that he was an incarnation of a Gana, bowed at his feet, and asked him for that celestial tale that had issued from the mouth of Śiva. Then Gunádhya said to that king Sátaváhana; "O king I have burnt six tales containing six hundred thousand couplets; but here is one tale consisting of a hundred thousand couplets, take that:* and these two pupils of mine shall explain it to you." So spake Gunádhya and took leave of the king, and then by strength of devotion laid aside his earthly body, and released from the curse ascended to his own heavenly home. Then the king took that tale which Gunádhya had given, called Vrihat Kathá, containing the adventures of Naraváhanadatta, and went to his own city. And there he bestowed on Gunadeva and Nandideva, the pupils of the poet who composed that tale, lands, gold, garments, beasts of burden, palaces, and treasures. And having recovered the sense of that tale with their help, Sátaváhana composed the book named Kathápitha, in order to shew how the tale came to be first made known in the Paiśácha language. Now that tale was so full of various interest, that men were so taken up with it as to forget the tales of the gods, and after producing that effect in the city it attained uninterrupted renown in the three worlds.
* ↑ * Vrihat Kathá.
* ↑ † Compare the story of Orpheus.
* ↑ * It is unnecessary to remind the reader of the story of the Sibyl.