“Tic-a-tac, who is passing by the way?” thought two little pigs at the edge of the village road. It was a little old woman, as round as the willow which bends into the lake. Tic-a-tac, crack, crack! creaked her stick as she walked along, and four small frightened eyes peeped through the grass.
“Who are you, little ones?”, cried the old woman, “Has your mother left you all alone? Come into my basket; I will take you to my little home near the gates of Benares and be your mother.” And she took the two little pigs and put them in her basket, which was filled with cotton she had brought from the cotton fields. Then along she went, tic-a-tac, crack, crack, until she reached her little home, where she took the pigs out of the basket and put them on her knees, and she laughed and she smiled and was as happy as could be. She called the elder one Mahatundila and the younger one Cullatundila.
And days and years passed by, and the little old woman fed the two pigs and loved them as her own children. But one day a big feast was held in the village nearby. And the men of the village drank the whole day till they became very drunk, and having eaten all the meat that was in the village, and still being unsatisfied, they wanted more. They went therefore to the little old woman and said: ‘”Mother, here is money; give us your pigs in return.” “Nay,” she replied, “I shall not give them to you. Does one give away one’s children for money?” “They are not children, Mother, they are pigs,” said the men. “What will you do with them later? Give them to us now, mother, and all these golden coins shall be yours.”
But the little old woman only shook her cunning little head. Then the men made her drink, and when she was drunk they said to her again: “Mother, take this money and give us the pigs.” “I cannot give you Mahatundila, but take Cullatundila,” she said, and putting rice in the little bowl at the door she called: “Cullatundila, Cullatundila!” And, Mahatundila, hearing the call, thought: “Mother has never called Cullatundila first, she always calls me first. What danger is upon us today?” Meanwhile Cullatundila went to the old woman, but seeing the bowl at the door and so many men standing around with ropes in hand, he turned back and went to Mahatundila, his heart trembling with fear.
“Brother”, said Mahatundila, “why are you trembling so?” “Mother has put our bowl at the door and men are standing there with ropes. I fear, brother, some danger is upon us.” Mahatundila’s soft eyes rested tenderly upon his brother, and in a low, sweet voice he said: “Your head is drooping, brother. Grieve not. Know that for this day we have been reared and fed. Alas! It is our flesh that men want. Go, Tundila; answer Mother’s call.” Then, moved by the tears in his brother’s eyes, he spoke these words:
“Bathe in the pool of water as on a bright feast-day,
And you shall find a perfume that never fades away.”
And as he spoke all the world changed. The little flowers in the grass opened their hearts to listen, the trees bent over, the wind became silent and the birds tarried in their flight. The men and the old woman were no longer drunk and the ropes fell from their hands. The sweet voice penetrated into the city of Benares and was heard by thousands of citizens, rich and poor. All were moved to tears and with one mind they hastened in the direction from which the voice came, till they reached the little house where, breaking down the fence, they crowded around.
But Cullatundila was perplexed. “Why does my brother speak these words? We never bathe in a pool of water, neither do we find perfume.” “Brother, tell me,” he said, “what is the pool of water and what is the perfume that never fades away?” Mahatundila answered, and the great crowd stood silent as he spoke: “The pool of water is love, and love is the fragrance that never fades away. Be not sad, brother, be not sad to leave this world. Many stay and are unhappy; many leave and joy is theirs.” The sweet voice reached even through the marble dome of the Palace and the King of Benares was moved to tears.
As for the crowd, the thousands of citizens waved their hands and uttered loud and joyful cries. They then brought Mahatundila and Cullatundila to the palace, where the King gave orders that the brothers should be bathed in the sweetest perfume and clad in silken garments. They were given jewels to hang around their necks and henceforward, while the King lived, they dwelt with him in the palace, and all disputes were brought to Mahatundila, the blessed one, and settled by him.
At last, in fullness of years, the King died, and Mahatundila and his brother left the city to dwell in the forest, to the great grief of the people of Benares, who wept as they departed. But the reign of justice did not end in the land. The people continued to dwell together in friendship, and all lived happy ever after.
