The Bodhisatta pointed out a fig-tree, with clusters of ripe fruit, standing not far off. “See,” said he, “there are our hearts hanging on yon fig-tree.” “If you will show me your heart,” said the Crocodile, “then I won’t kill you.” “Take me to the tree, then, and I will point it out to you hanging upon it.” The Crocodile brought him to the place. The Monkey leapt off his back, and climbing up the fig-tree sat upon it. “O silly Crocodile!” said he, “you thought that there were creatures that kept their hearts in a tree-top! You are a fool, and I have outwitted you! You may keep your fruit to yourself. Your body is great, but you have no sense.” And then to explain this idea he uttered the following stanzas: “Rose-apple, jack-fruit, mangoes too across the water there I see; Enough of them, I want them not; my fig is good enough for me! “Great is your body, verily, but how much smaller is your wit! Now go your ways, Sir Crocodile, for I have had the best of it.” The Crocodile, feeling as sad and miserable as if he had lost a thousand pieces of money, went back sorrowing to the place where he lived. THE SPIRIT THAT LIVED IN A TREE And it came to pass that the Buddha was re-born as a Tree-Spirit. Now there reigned (at Benares) at that time a King who said to himself: “All over India, the kings live in palaces supported by many a column. _I_ will build me a palace resting on one column only—then shall I in truth be the chiefest of all kings.” Now in the King’s Park was a lordly Sal tree, straight and well-grown, worshiped by village and town, and to this tree even the Royal Family also paid tribute, worship, and honor. And then suddenly there came an order from the King that the tree should be cut down. And the people were sore dismayed, but the woodmen, who dared not disobey the orders of the King, came to the Park with hands full of perfumed garlands, and encircling the tree with a string, fastened to it a nosegay of flowers, and kindling a lamp, they did worship, exclaiming: “O Tree! on the seventh day must we cut thee down, for so hath the King commanded. Now let the Deities who dwell within thee go elsewhither, and since we are only obeying the King’s command, let no blame fall upon us, and no harm come to our children because of this.” And the Spirit who lived in the tree, hearing these words, reflected within himself and said: “These builders are determined to cut down this tree, and to destroy my place of dwelling. Now my life lasts only as long as this tree. And lo! all the young Sal trees that stand around, where dwell the Deities my kinsfolk—and they are many—will be destroyed! My own destruction does not touch me so near as the destruction of my children: therefore must I protect their lives.”