The Price of a Promise

Once there was a king of Varanasi (Benares) named Vrisha-darbha. In another version of this tale he is called Sibi-rana. It doesn't much matter, because the story is the same. One day as the king was out on a walk a colorful pigeon fell to the ground in front of him. It was mostly blue, its feathers shining like the petals of a blue lotus. It appeared to be wounded and was shivering with fright.
"What are you afraid of," asked the king. "There is no need for fear in my kingdom. I protect all living things so far as I can, " he said. The pigeon only shivered. Now the king saw the hawk, sailing back and forth overhead. Flying low, it spoke to him:
"This pigeon is my appointed food! What are you doing? Are you going to take away from me what I have hunted so long? Already my claws have marked its body: so you must understand that it is mine."

The hawk was giving the king a real sermon. "You can intervene when human beings fight: that is your duty. What gives you the right to rule over birds of the sky? And since you are so compassionate to this pigeon, what about me and my hunger? -- I have not had a good meal for many days!"

"Very well, the king said, "then I shall have my servant bring you some deer or boar meat which we keep for the dogs. I have promised this pigeon my protection, and you will not have the pigeon." But the hawk replied, "I do not eat the flesh of deer or boar. Pigeons are my food for centuries back. However, if you are so fond of the pigeon, you can give me some flesh from your own body equal to the weight of the pigeon." (You can see that this was no ordinary hawk!)

"Gladly," Vrisha-darbha exclaimed. "In fact, you are doing me a kindness in giving me the opportunity for true service." (And this was no ordinary king!) So the king, with a sharp knife, began to take a piece from his own body. Scales were brought, the kind with two pans, and the wounded pigeon was put on one, the king's flesh on the other.

When the royal court learned what was going on, the queen and ministers and servants grew greatly alarmed and came running to the spot. There they wrung their hands helplessly over their righteous master's sacrifice -- this keeping of the vow of protection to one living creature, and fulfilling his promise to another. It is said that even the earth quaked at this unusual event.

Now a strange thing: although the king cut flesh from his hips, thighs and even his arms, the bird weighed ever heavier and heavier! Finally when he was almost a skeleton, he said, "Here -- I give my entire body, my life, for your sake: take it.
Then came the show down. The gods with Indra at their head appeared, to the accompaniment of heavenly music, and the hawk and pigeon disappeared for gods had taken those forms to test the king. From the sky, flowers rained down. Vrisha-darbha's body was restored miraculously and he was carried up to heaven in a jewelled chariot.

This story was one of those told by grandsire Bhishma to Yudhishthira, the Pandava chief, as a lesson in kingship. It provides an additional lesson for us as Vedantists: that God, the Deity, reveals himself as dwelling in each of us, and in each creature as well; all offering really comes from That and goes to That.