When the Teacher had finished this discourse in illustration of what he had said (“Not now only, O mendicants, does Devadatta go about to slay me; formerly, also, he did the same”), he made the connexion, and summed up the Jātaka as follows: “He who was then the hunter was Devadatta, but the Kurunga Antelope was I myself.”[303] END OF THE STORY OF THE KURUNGA ANTELOPE. No. 22. KUKKURA JĀTAKA. The Dog who turned Preacher. _“The dogs brought up in the king’s house,” etc._--This the Teacher told, while at Jetavana, about benefiting one’s relations. This will be explained in the Bhaddasāla Jātaka in the Twelfth Book. In confirmation of what is there related, he told a tale. * * * * * Once upon a time, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, the Bodisat, in consequence of an act which would have that effect, came to life as a dog, and lived in a great cemetery attended by a troop of several hundred dogs. Now, one day the king mounted his state-chariot, drawn by milk-white steeds, went to his park, amused himself there the rest of the day, and after sunset returned to the city. And they put the carriage harness, just as it had been used, in the courtyard. There was rain in the night, and the harness got wet. The royal dogs, too, came down from the flat roof of the palace, and gnawed at the leather work and straps. The next day the servants told the king, “Dogs have got in, O king, through the sliding door, and have eaten the leather work and the straps.” The king, enraged at the dogs, gave orders that dogs should be killed wherever they were seen. So there ensued a wholesale destruction of dogs: and finding there was no safety for them anywhere else, they escaped to the cemetery, and joined themselves to the Bodisat. The Bodisat asked them the reason of their coming in such numbers together. “People say,” was the answer, “that the leather work and the straps of a carriage in the harem have been gnawed by dogs. The king in his anger has commanded all dogs to be destroyed. Extreme is the danger we are in!” The Bodisat said to himself, “There’s no opportunity for dogs from outside to get into a place so guarded. It must be the royal dogs from within the palace that have done this thing. And now nothing happens to the thieves, and the innocent are punished with death. What if I were to make the king see who the real culprits are, and so save the lives of my kinsfolk?” And he comforted his relations with the words, “Don’t you be afraid! I will restore you to safety. Wait here whilst I go and see the king.” Then guiding himself by thoughts of love, he called to mind his Perfections, and uttered a command; saying, “Let none dare to throw a club or a clod at me!” and so unattended he entered the city. And when they saw him, not a creature grew angry at the sight of him.