Now Chatta knew a spell for bringing to light buried treasure, and while dwelling there he thought, "Where can this fellow have put the money which belonged to my father?" So repeating the spell and looking about him he discovered that it was buried in the garden. And thinking that with this money he would recover his kingdom also, he addressed the ascetics and said, "Sirs, I am the son of the king of Kosala. When our kingdom was seized by the king of Benares, I escaped in disguise, and so far I have saved my life. But now I have got the property which belonged to my family. With this will I go and recover my kingdom. What will you do?"

"We too will go with you," they replied.

"Agreed," he said, and had some big leather sacks made, and at night digging a hole in the ground he pulled out the treasure-pots, [117] and putting the money into the sacks he had the pots filled with grass. Then he ordered the five hundred holy men and others as well to take the money, and fled to Savatthi. There he had all the king's officers seized, and recovering his kingdom he restored the walls, watch-towers and other works, and having thus made the city impregnable against the attack of any hostile king, he took up his abode there. It was told to the king of Benares, "The ascetics have carried off the treasure from your garden and are fled." He went to the garden and opening the pots found only grass in them. And by reason of his lost treasure great sorrow fell upon him. Going to the city he wandered about murmuring, "Grass, grass," and no one could assuage his grief, Thought the Bodhisatta, "The king is in

great trouble. He wanders to and fro, idly chattering. Except myself, no one has the power to drive away his sorrow. I will free him from his trouble." So one day while seated quietly with him, when the king began to chatter, he repeated the first stanza:

"Grass" is still thy constant cry;
Who did take thy grass away?
What thy need of it, or why
Dost thou this word only say?

The king, on hearing what he said, replied in a second stanza:

Chatta, holy man of fame,
As it happened this way came:
Him alone to blame I hold,
Substituting grass for gold.

[118] The Bodhisatta, on hearing this, uttered a third stanza:

Canny folk their rule should make,
"Little give and mickle take."
What he took was all his own,
What he left was grass alone.

On hearing this the king uttered the fourth stanza:

Virtue follows no such rules,
These are morals fit for fools.
Doubtful morals they must be,
Learning too is vanity.

While he thus blamed Chatta, the king by these words of the Bodhisatta was freed from his sorrow and ruled his kingdom righteously.