The Ungrateful Guest

Bhishma told Yudhishthira of Rajadharma, the noble crane who was a friend of the gods, and of the ungrateful guest who repaid his kindness with the worst of all betrayals - a tale of the supreme sin of ingratitude, and of the justice that fell upon the one who killed his benefactor.

Beneath a great banyan tree near the Ganga there dwelt a crane named Rajadharma, a bird of noble nature and great virtue, the son of the sage Kashyapa and a friend of the gods themselves, who came and went between his banyan tree and the court of Brahma. He was wise and gentle and generous, devoted to the duties of hospitality and friendship, and his name, Rajadharma, meant the very law of kings - the duty of the noble to protect and to give. He lived in peace beneath his banyan, honored by the creatures around him and beloved of the gods, a being of rare goodness.

There came wandering to that region a poor brahmin named Gautama - not the same as any sage of that name, but a man of low and cruel nature despite his birth, who had fallen into poverty and bad ways. He had drifted far from his home, living among hunters and growing hard and greedy and careless of right, until he was a brahmin in name only, his conduct that of a cruel and grasping man. Then the caravan he travelled with was destroyed by a wild elephant, and he wandered on alone, hungry and weary, until he came at last to the banyan tree where the noble crane Rajadharma dwelt.

He lay down beneath it as evening fell, tired and hungry and with nowhere to shelter, a poor traveler in need. And the noble crane Rajadharma, seeing the weary guest, received him with all the warmth and generosity of his nature; for the crane held the duties of hospitality sacred, and to him a guest, whoever he might be, was to be honored and cared for. He had no notion of the cruel and ungrateful heart of the man he was taking in; he saw only a guest in need, and opened his home to him gladly.

The crane Rajadharma cared for his guest with the utmost kindness. He gave Gautama a warm and sheltered place to rest; he gathered food for him and fed him well; he lit a blazing fire and cooked great fish from the Ganga for him, and fanned him with his wings so that the weary traveler's exhaustion might ease. Through all that night, the noble crane tended his guest with generous and tireless care, treating the poor wanderer as an honored friend and sparing nothing for his comfort.

So the crane sheltered and fed and cared for the ungrateful Gautama, asking nothing in return, giving freely of all he had out of the pure goodness of his nature and his reverence for the duties of a host. He was to his guest a true friend and benefactor, saving him from hunger and cold and giving him rest and care when he had nowhere else to turn. And in the morning, when Gautama was ready to go on his way, the crane, still generous, helped him further yet - sending him to his friend Virupaksha, the king of the rakshasas, who would give him wealth, that his poverty might be relieved, sending his guest off with kindness and good counsel.

Gautama, following the crane's directions, went and indeed gained wealth, returning laden with riches he had not had before, all thanks to the kindness and counsel of the noble crane who had sheltered him. On his way back, weary again and hungry, he came once more to the banyan tree of his benefactor, the crane Rajadharma, who again received him with the same warmth and gladness, happy to see his guest returned and prospered, and ready once more to shelter and feed him for the night.

But in the cruel and greedy heart of Gautama a dreadful thought had taken root. He had eaten, but he feared there would be no food on his long road home with his heavy load of gold, and he looked at the noble crane who had saved him, who was even now welcoming him again - and instead of gratitude, he felt only a base and brutal hunger, and the wicked thought that the crane itself would make him a meal. There by him was the very friend who had fed and sheltered and enriched him; and the ungrateful man, thinking only of his belly, resolved to kill and eat his benefactor, the noble bird who had done him nothing but good. So black was his ingratitude that he could look upon his savior and see only food.

That night, while the noble crane Rajadharma slept trustingly near the guest he had sheltered, the ungrateful Gautama carried out his wicked design. With a blazing brand from the fire the crane had kindled to guard him, he struck down his sleeping benefactor, the very crane who had fed and sheltered and enriched him, and he stripped off the feathers and roasted the flesh of his friend and savior to carry with him as food for the road - repaying all the crane's boundless kindness with the basest and most monstrous of betrayals, the murder of the one who had saved him.

It was the worst of all crimes: the killing of a friend, the murder of a benefactor, the slaying of the very one who had shown him nothing but kindness and to whom he owed his life and his new wealth besides. There is no sin more black than this - to repay great kindness with murder, to betray and destroy one's own savior. And Gautama, having committed it, fled with his gold and his benefactor's roasted flesh, carrying upon him now the unspeakable guilt of having slain the friend who had saved him.

The murder of the noble crane Rajadharma did not go unmarked. When two days passed without the crane's customary visit, his friend Virupaksha grew anxious and sent his son with rakshasas to the banyan tree; they found the crane's remains, and soon seized Gautama and brought him back with the body. And when it was known that he had been slain - and slain by the very guest he had sheltered, in the blackest ingratitude - there was great lamentation in the rakshasa city and among all who had known and loved the noble bird. That so good a being, who had given only kindness, should be murdered by the one he had saved, was a horror that cried out to heaven.

Virupaksha built a funeral pyre for his friend, adorned with gems and fine garments, and performed the rites. Then the divine cow Surabhi, daughter of Daksha, appeared in the sky above, and froth and milk from her mouth fell upon the pyre; and the noble Rajadharma was restored to life and rose to greet his friend. Indra, king of the gods, came to the city and explained that Brahma had once cursed the crane to be slain for failing to present himself in his court, and that Surabhi's milk had now brought him back.

And upon the ungrateful Gautama, the killer of his benefactor, there fell the reckoning his crime deserved. Virupaksha ordered the rakshasas to kill and eat him, but they refused to eat so evil a man; he was cut to pieces and given to the hunters, and even they would not eat him, nor would the beasts of prey. Yet the crane, restored to life, would not have it so; he begged Indra to revive his friend Gautama, and Indra did so; the crane embraced him and sent him away with his gold. Gautama went back to the hunters' village and fathered wicked sons, and the gods laid a heavy curse on him, that in time he would sink into a terrible hell; for of all sins, the sin of slaying one's benefactor is among the most unforgivable, and it has no atonement.

So the tale set side by side the noble crane, restored to life by the grace of heaven and merciful even to his killer, and the ungrateful man, whom no creature would eat and whom the gods cursed for the murder of his benefactor, though his victim had pleaded for his life. The one who had given only kindness was given back his life; the one who had repaid kindness with murder was given the punishment of his ingratitude. And the lesson stood stark between them: that goodness is beloved of heaven and not finally lost, while the betrayal of a benefactor is among the most terrible of crimes, sure to draw down a fearful reckoning.

Bhishma drew the lessons of the tale for Yudhishthira.

'See, first, the supreme sin of ingratitude, and above all the betrayal of a benefactor. Gautama was fed and sheltered and warmed and enriched by the noble crane, who gave him only kindness and saved his very life; and he repaid all that goodness by murdering and devouring his savior. There is no blacker crime than this - to repay great kindness with injury, to betray and destroy the one who has helped you. The tale teaches that ingratitude is among the most terrible of sins, and the killing of a benefactor the most terrible of all; that to forget and betray those who have done us good is to fall as low as a soul can fall, and to draw down upon oneself the heaviest of reckonings. Be never ungrateful; betray never the one who has helped you.

'And see, on the other side, how goodness is beloved of heaven and not finally lost. The noble crane, who gave only kindness, was mourned by his friends and restored to life; while his ungrateful killer, whom not even beasts would eat, was cursed by the gods to hell. The tale teaches that the good are dear to heaven and that their goodness is not lost even in death, while the betrayer of kindness meets a fearful justice. Be generous and faithful as the noble crane; honor always those who have done you good; and remember above all things the debt of gratitude, which it is the deepest baseness to betray.'

And Yudhishthira, who knew well the worth of loyal friends and the bitterness of betrayal, took to heart the tale of the noble crane and the ungrateful guest who slew him.