After dwelling for a long time in Himavat he went to Râjagaba to get salt and vinegar, and then he caused a hermitage to be made right in the midst of the cattle-runs upon the hills.
At that time the goat-herds said: "Let the goats graze about here." Then they made them go on to the hill-runs, and there they lived and enjoyed themselves.
One day as the goatherds were driving their flocks homeward at sunset a kid, straying far away, was not missed when the goats started (for their folds), and so was left behind. But a certain panther perceived the kid lagging in the rear, and stood at the entrance (of the pen) thinking, "I'll eat that kid." She, too, having seen the panther, thought, "To-day I shall be killed! I'll have a pleasant talk with this panther and cause him to be tender-hearted, and so by some artifice I'll save my life." Then even from afar she held pleasant converse with him, and while coming along spake the following gâthâ:—
"Dear uncle, I hope you find yourself well,
And comfort and ease enjoy in these wilds;
My mother doth wish to know how you fare,
Well-wishers of you indeed are we all."
On hearing this the panther thought: "This deceitful thing seeks to cajole me by saying 'uncle.' She don't know how cruel I am." Then he uttered the following gâthâ:—
"On my tail have you stept, you false-speaking kid.
You have done me much harm, you careless young thing!
Do you think to cajole and escape me to-day
By your calling me 'uncle,' and other fine names?"
The other, on hearing this, replied, "Don't talk like that uncle"; and then uttered the following gâthâ:—
"Your face was toward me, your tail was unseen;
In front did I come, and not in the rear.
Far out of my reach was your appendage behind;
How then could I tread on the end of your tail?"
"There is no place to which my tail does not extend," replied the panther, as he spake the following gâthâ:—
