Honest-Mind and Wicked-Mind

In a certain city lived two friends, Dharmabuddhi and Papabuddhi. Papabuddhi thought: "I am a fool and I am poor. Let me take this Dharmabuddhi abroad, make money on the strength of his standing, then cheat him and live well."

He said: "Friend, what will you have to remember in your old age? A man who grows old without ever seeing another country has wasted his birth. Learning, wealth and skill are not fully got without going abroad." Dharmabuddhi agreed, and with their elders' leave the two set out.

There, by Dharmabuddhi's standing and hard work, they earned a great deal, and came back happy toward their own city. Near the city Papabuddhi said: "Friend, it is unwise to take all this home; relatives and kinsmen will come asking. Let us bury it here in the forest and take only a little; whenever we need more, we shall come together and fetch it." Dharmabuddhi trusted him, and they buried the money and went home.

But Papabuddhi went back alone at night, dug up every coin, filled the pit in again, and returned.

Some days later he came to Dharmabuddhi: "Friend, let us go and take out some money." They went and dug — the pit was empty. Then Papabuddhi beat his head and shouted: "You have stolen it! No one but you knew of it. Give me back my half!" Dharmabuddhi swore he had not, but the other would not have it, and the quarrel went before the magistrates.

The court ordered both to submit to an ordeal. Papabuddhi objected: "This is imperfect justice. Where there is human evidence, why an ordeal? The forest gods here are witnesses; let them say who the thief is." The court agreed.

That night Papabuddhi hid his father in the hollow of that tree and coached him: "When you are asked, say: Dharmabuddhi took it."

In the morning the court came to the tree and asked: "Spirit of the wood! Tell us, who is the thief?" From the hollow came the answer: "Dharmabuddhi took it!"

Dharmabuddhi understood at once that this was no tree-spirit but a man. Quietly he heaped dry wood and grass around the hollow and set it alight. In a short while Papabuddhi's father came scrambling out, half burnt and screaming — and told the court the whole thing.

The court punished Papabuddhi and awarded all the money to Dharmabuddhi.

So it is said: whatever a clever mind contrives, it should also think through to the end. Papabuddhi's cleverness burned his own father.

धर्मबुद्धिः कुबुद्धिश्च द्वावेतौ विदितौ मम । पुत्रेण व्याहृतं पाण्डित्यं पिता धूमेन घातितः ॥

Moral: Honest-Mind and Wicked-Mind — I know them both now: by the son's clever contrivance, the father was killed with smoke.

From the Panchatantra, Book I — The Loss of Friends.