The king did so; and as soon as he heard of it, the man turned the dog loose. The dog hastened back, and went close up to the elephant. The elephant took him up in his trunk, and placed him on his forehead, and wept and cried, and took him down again, and watched him as he fed. And then he took his own food. Then the king paid great honour to the Bodisat for knowing the motives even of animals. * * * * * When the Teacher had finished this discourse, and had enlarged upon the Four Truths,[313] he made the connexion and summed up the Jātaka, “He who at that time was the dog was the lay convert, the elephant was the old monk, but the minister Paṇḍit was I myself.” END OF THE STORY ON CONSTANCY. No. 28. NANDI-VISĀLA JĀTAKA. The Bull who Won the Bet. “_Speak kindly._”--This the Master told when at Jetavana concerning the abusive language of the Six.[314] For on one occasion the Six made a disturbance by scorning, snubbing, and annoying peaceable monks, and overwhelming them with the ten kinds of abuse. The monks told the Blessed One about it. He sent for the Six, and asked them whether it was true. And on their acknowledging it, he reproved them, saying, “Harsh speaking, O mendicants, is unpleasant, even to animals. An animal once made a man who addressed him harshly lose a thousand.” And he told a tale. * * * * * Long ago a king of Gandhāra was reigning in Takkasilā, in the land of Gandhāra. The Bodisat came to life then as a bull. Now, when he was yet a young calf, a certain Brāhman, after attending upon some devotees who were wont to give oxen to priests, received the bull. And he called it Nandi Visāla, and grew very fond of it; treating it like a son, and feeding it on gruel and rice. When the Bodisat grew up, he said to himself, “This Brāhman has brought me up with great care; and there’s no other ox in all the continent of India can drag the weight I can. What if I were to let the Brāhman know about my strength, and so in my turn provide sustenance for him!” And he said one day to the Brāhman, “Do you go now, Brāhman, to some squire rich in cattle, and offer to bet him a thousand that your ox will move a hundred laden carts.” The Brāhman went to a rich farmer, and started a conversation thus: “Whose bullocks hereabout do you think the strongest?” “Such and such a man’s,” said the farmer; and then added, “but of course there are none in the whole countryside to touch my own!” “I have one ox,” said the Brāhman, “who is good to move a hundred carts, loads and all!” “Tush!” said the squire. “Where in the world is such an ox?” “Just in my house!” said the Brāhman. “Then make a bet about it!” “All right! I bet you a thousand he can.” So the bet was made. And he filled a hundred carts (small waggons made for two bullocks) with sand and gravel and stones, ranged them all in a row, and tied them all firmly together, cross-bar to axle-tree.