# The Panchatantra (Purnabhadra's Recension of 1199 CE)/Book 5/The Four Treasure-Seekers

THE FOUR TREASURE-SEEKERS
In a certain town in the world were four Brahmans who lived as the best of friends. And being stricken with utter poverty, they took counsel together: "A curse, a curse on this business of being poor! For
The well-served master hates him still; His loving kinsmen with a will Abandon him; woes multiply, While friends and even children fly; His high-born wife grows cool; the flash Of virtue dims; brave efforts crash— For him who has no ready cash
Charm, courage, eloquence, good looks, And thorough mastery of books (If money does not back the same) Are useless in the social game.
"Better be dead than penniless. As the story goes:
A beggar to the graveyard hied And there 'Friend corpse, arise,' he cried; 'One moment lift my heavy weight Of poverty; for I of late Grow weary, and desire instead Your comfort: you are good and dead.' The corpse was silent. He was sure 'Twas better to be dead than poor.
"So let us at any cost strive to make money. For the saying goes:
Money gets you anything,
Gets it in a flash:
Therefore let the prudent get
Cash, cash, cash.
"Now this cash comes to men in six ways. They are: (1) begging for charity, (2) flunkeyism at a court, (3) farmwork, (4) the learned professions, (5) usury, (6) trade.
"However, among all these methods of making money, trade is the only one without a hitch in it. For
Kings' favor is a thing unstable; Crows peck at winnings charitable; You make, in learning the professions, Too many wearisome concessions To teachers; farms are too much labor; In usury you lend your neighbor
The cash which is your life, and therefore You really live a poor man. Wherefore I see in trade the only living That can be truly pleasure-giving. Hurrah for trade!
"Now profitable trade has seven branches. They are: (1) false weights and balances, (2) price-boosting, (3) keeping a pawnshop, (4) getting regular customers, (5) a stock company, (6) articles de luxe such as perfumes, (7) foreign trade.
"Now the economists say:
False weights and boosting prices to An overshameless sum And constant cheating of one's friends Are fit for social scum.
And again:
Deposits in the house compel The pawnshop man to pray: If you will kill the owner, Lord, I'll give you what you say.
Likewise:
The holder of a stock reflects With glee, though one of many: The wide world's wealth belongs to me; No other gets a penny.
Furthermore:
Perfumery is first-class ware; Why deal in gold and such? Whate'er the cost, you sell it for A thousand times as much.
​"Foreign trade is the affair of the capitalist. As the book says:
Wild elephants are caught by tame: So money-kings, devising A trap for money, capture it With far-flung advertising.
The brisk commercial traveler, Who knows the selling game, Invests his money, and returns With twice or thrice the same.
And again:
The crow, or good-for-naught, or deer, Afraid of foreign lands, In heedless slothfulness is sure To perish where he stands."
Having thus set their minds in order, and resolved on foreign travel, they said farewell to home and friends, and started, all four of them. Well, there is wisdom in the saying:
The man whose mind is money mad, From all his kinsmen flees; He hastens from his mother dear; He breaks his promises; He even goes to foreign lands Which he would not elect And leaves his native country. Well, What else do you expect?
So in time they came to the Avanti country, where they bathed in the waters of the Sipra, and adored the great god Shiva. As they traveled farther, they met a master-magician named Terror-Joy. And having ​greeted him in proper Brahman fashion, they all accompanied him to his monastery cell. There the magician asked them whence they came, whither they were going, and what was their object. And they replied: "We are pilgrims, seeking magic power. We have resolved to go where we shall find enough money, or death. For the proverb says:
While water is given By fate out of heaven, If men dig a well, It bubbles from hell. Man's effort (sufficiently great) Can equal the wonders of fate.
And again:
Success complete In any feat Is sure to bless True manliness. Man's effort (sufficiently great) Is just what a dullard calls fate.
There is no toy Called easy joy, But man must strain To body's pain. Even Vishnu embraces his bride With arms that the churn-stick has tried.
"So disclose to us some method of getting money whether crawling into a hole, or placating a witch, or living in a graveyard, or selling human flesh, or anything. You are said to have miraculous magic, while we have boundless daring. You know the saying:
Only the great can aid the great To win their heart's desire: Apart from ocean, who could bear The fierce subaqueous fire?"
So the magician, perceiving their fitness as disciples, made four magic quills, and gave one to each, saying: "Go to the northern slope of the Himalaya Mountains. And wherever a quill drops, there the owner will certainly find a treasure."
Now as they followed his directions, the leader's quill dropped. And on examining the spot, he found the soil all copper. So he said: "Look here! Take all the copper you want." But the others said: "Fool! What is the good of a thing which, even in quantity, does not put an end to poverty? Stand up. Let us go on." And he replied: "You may go. I will accompany you no farther." So he took his copper and was the first to turn back.
The three others went farther. But they had traveled only a little way when the leader's quill dropped. And when he dug down, he found the soil all silver. At this he was delighted, and cried: "Look! Take all the silver you want. No need of going farther." "Fool!" said the other two. "The soil was copper first, then silver. It will certainly be gold ahead. This stuff, even in quantity, does not relieve poverty so much." "You two may go," said he. "I will not join you." So he took his silver and turned back.
The two went on until one quill dropped. When ​the owner dug down, he found the soil all gold. Seeing this, he was delighted, and said to his companion: "Look! Take all the gold you want. There is nothing beyond better than gold." "Fool!" said the other. "Don't you see the point? First came copper, then silver, and then gold. Beyond there will certainly be gems. Stand up. Let us go farther. What is the good of this stuff? A quantity of it is a mere burden." "You may go," he replied. "I will stay here and wait for you."
So the other went on alone. His limbs were scorched by the rays of the summer sun and his thoughts were confused by thirst as he wandered to and fro over the trails in the land of the fairies. At last, on a whirling platform, he saw a man with blood dripping down his body; for a wheel was whirling on his head. Then he made haste and said: "Sir, why do you stand thus with a wheel whirling on your head? In any case, tell me if there is water anywhere. I am mad with thirst."
The moment the Brahman said this, the wheel left the other's head and settled on his own. "My very dear sir," said he, "what is the meaning of this?" "In the very same way," replied the other, "it settled on my head." "But," said the Brahman, "when will it go away? It hurts terribly."
And the fellow said: "When someone who holds in his hand a magic quill such as you had, arrives and speaks as you did, then it will settle on his head." "Well," said the Brahman, "how long were you ​here?" And the other asked: "Who is king in the world at present?" On hearing the answer, "King Vinavatsa," he said: "When Rama was king, I was poverty stricken, procured a magic quill, and came here, just like you. And I saw another man with a wheel on his head and put a question to him. The moment I asked a question (just like you) the wheel left his head and settled on mine. But I cannot reckon the centuries."
Then the wheel-bearer asked: "My dear sir, how, pray, did you get food while standing thus?" "My dear sir," said the fellow, "the god of wealth, fearful lest his treasures be stolen, prepared this terror, so that no magician might come so far. And if any should succeed in coming, he was to be freed from hunger and thirst, preserved from decrepitude and death, and was merely to endure this torture. So now permit me to say farewell. You have set me free from a sizable misery. Now I am going home." And he went.
After he had gone, the gold-finder, wondering why his companion delayed, eagerly followed his footprints. And having gone but a little way, he saw a man whose body was drenched with blood, a man tortured by a cruel wheel whirling on his head—and this man was his own companion. So he came near and asked with tears: "My dear fellow, what is the meaning of this?" "A whim of fate," said the other. "But tell me," said he, "what has happened." And in ​answer to his question, the other told the entire history of the wheel.
When the friend heard this, he scolded him, saying: "Well, I told you time and again not to do it. Yet from lack of sense you did not do as I said. Indeed, there is wisdom in the saying:
Scholarship is less than sense; Therefore seek intelligence: Senseless scholars in their pride Made a lion; then they died."
"How was that?" asked the wheel-bearer. And the gold-finder told the story of
THE LION MAKERS