“O, no. It is a living creature, even though it is so tiny. To deprive it suddenly of its life is a very heartless act indeed.” He passed on, and the little creature’s life was spared.
Buddha, looking down into the awfulness of Hell, recollected that once this Kandatta had spared a small spider’s life, and he determined that if it were possible he would now rescue him from his terrible sufferings. He wanted to do this as a reward for his one good deed during life.
As Buddha looked about him, he saw a spider of Paradise resting on an emerald-green leaf of the Lotus Pond. The small creature was just in the act of spinning its silken, silver web. Buddha stretched out his hands, and gently took the web from the leaf, and carefully lowered it between the pearly lotus-flowers so that it sank deeper and deeper into the depths of Hell below.
Deep in the dreadful Pond of Blood of Hell, Kandatta was struggling in agony, and crowded about him were innumerable other sinners. Around him utter darkness prevailed, and if ever by chance he happened to spy some pale object floating in that utter darkness, it always proved to be nothing but the ghostly reflection of light from the bristling spikes which grew on the Hill of Needles, and in indescribable loneliness he would again abandon himself to even more hopeless despair than before.
On every side there was profound silence of Death, and the only sounds which at rare intervals reached his
