The Wise and Foolish Merchants

Long ago, when Brahma-datta was king in the city of Benares, in the country of Kasi, the Bodisat, the being who would one day become the Buddha, was born into a merchant family. When he grew up he went trading with five hundred bullock carts, traveling sometimes from east to west and sometimes from west to east. In Benares there was also another young merchant, a dull, foolish fellow with no common sense at all.

One season the Bodisat gathered costly goods in Benares, loaded his five hundred carts and made ready for a journey. The foolish merchant did the same with five hundred carts of his own.

The Bodisat thought, “If this foolish young man comes along with me, there won’t be room on the road for a thousand carts at once. The men will struggle to find wood and water, and the bullocks to find grass. One of us had better go first.” So he sent for the other merchant and told him so. “We can’t travel together. Would you like to go ahead or come after me?”

The foolish merchant thought, “Going first is much better. The road won’t be churned up, my oxen will have untouched grass, my men can pick the best of the wild herbs for their curry, the water will be clean, and I can sell my goods at whatever price I like.” So he said, “I’ll go first, friend.”

But the Bodisat saw the advantages of going second. “Those in front will smooth out the rough places, and I’ll travel over the road they have made. Their oxen will eat the old, coarse grass, and mine will eat the fresh young shoots that spring up after. My men will gather tender herbs where the old ones were picked. Where there is no water, the first party will dig wells, and we will drink from them. And bargaining is exhausting work, but if I come later I can sell at the prices they have already fixed.” So he said, “Very well, friend, you go first.”

“Done!” said the foolish merchant. He yoked his wagons and set off, and in time he left the settled country behind and came to the edge of the wilderness.

There are five kinds of wilderness: those made dangerous by robbers, by wild beasts, by lack of water, by demons and by lack of food. This one was both waterless and haunted by demons. So the merchant loaded great jars of water onto his carts and set out across the desert, which was sixty leagues wide.

When he reached the middle, the demon who lived there thought, “I’ll trick these men into throwing away their water, and when they are too weak to resist, I’ll devour every one of them.”

So the demon conjured up a splendid carriage drawn by milk-white bulls and rode out to meet the merchant, sitting in it like a great lord, with ten or twelve demons around him carrying bows, arrows, swords and shields. He wore a garland of water lilies, his hair and clothes were dripping, and the wheels of his carriage were caked with mud. His attendants walked before and behind him, soaked through, decked with white lotuses and carrying bunches of red ones, chewing lotus stalks, with water and mud trickling off them.

Now the leaders of caravans ride at the front with their attendants when the wind blows in their faces, to escape the dust, and at the back when it blows from behind. The wind was against them that day, so the merchant was riding in front. When the demon saw him, he drew his carriage aside and greeted him warmly. “Where are you going?”

The merchant pulled his own carriage aside to let the carts go by and waited beside the demon. “We have come all this way from Benares,” he said. “But I see you have lotus garlands and water lilies, and you are eating lotus stalks, and you are covered in mud and dripping wet. Is it raining on the road you came by? Are there pools full of water plants?”

“What a question!” said the demon at once. “That dark green line over there is a forest, and beyond it the whole country is full of water. It rains all the time, the pools are brimming, and everywhere there are ponds covered in lotuses.” As the carts rolled past one by one, he asked, “Where are you taking these carts?”

“To such-and-such a country.”

“And what is in this one, and this one?”

“Such-and-such goods.”

“This last cart is moving very heavily. What is in it?”

“Water.”

“You were wise to bring water this far, but you won’t need it any farther. There is plenty ahead. Break the jars, pour the water out and travel in comfort.” Then he added, “Go on, we’ve kept you long enough!” He drove off a little way, and as soon as he was out of sight he went back to the demons’ city.

The foolish merchant believed every word. He had the jars smashed and the water poured out, without keeping so much as a cupful, and sent the carts on. But ahead of them there was not a drop of water anywhere. With nothing to drink, the men grew exhausted. They traveled on until sunset, then unyoked the wagons, drew them up in a circle and tied the oxen to the wheels. There was no water for the oxen and none to cook the rice, and the worn-out men dropped down wherever they were and fell asleep.

Toward the end of the night the demons came out of their city and fell upon the camp, and not one man or ox was left alive. The demons went away leaving only bones behind. So because of one foolish young merchant, the whole company perished, their bones were scattered in every direction, and the five hundred carts stood there just as they had been loaded.

The Bodisat waited for a month and a half after the foolish merchant had left. Then he set out and traveled straight to the edge of the desert. There he filled his jars and laid in a large store of water. He had a drum beaten in the camp to call his men together and said to them, “Not one cupful of water is to be used without my permission. There are poisonous trees in the wilderness, so no one is to eat any leaf, flower or fruit he hasn’t eaten in the past without asking me first.” Having warned them, he led his five hundred wagons into the desert.

When he reached the middle, the demon appeared as he had done the first time, as if coming from the opposite direction. The Bodisat saw through him at once. “There is no water in this wilderness,” he thought. “Its very name is the Waterless Desert. And this fellow has red eyes and a bold manner, and he casts no shadow. No doubt he talked the foolish merchant into throwing away all his water, and the man and all his people grew weak and were devoured. But he doesn’t know how clever I am, or how full of resources.”

So he said to the demon, “Be off with you! We are traveling merchants. We don’t throw away the water we have until we see more, and when we do see it, we know perfectly well how to lighten our carts by pouring ours out!”

The demon drove on a little way and, once out of sight, went home to the demon city. When the demons had gone, the Bodisat’s men came to him. “Sir, those people said the green forest begins just over there, and that from there on it rains all the time. They had every kind of lotus with them, in garlands and bunches, and they were chewing lotus stalks, and their clothes and hair were wet and dripping. Let’s throw away the water and travel faster with lighter carts!”

The Bodisat halted the wagons, gathered all his men and asked them, “Have any of you ever heard anyone say there was a lake or a pond in this desert?”

“Never.”

“Now some people tell us it is raining beyond that strip of green. How far away can you feel a rain wind?”

“About a league, sir.”

“Has a rain wind touched any of you?”

“No, sir.”

“How far away can you see the top of a rain cloud?”

“About a league, sir.”

“Can any of you see the top of a single cloud?”

“Not one of us, sir.”

“How far away can you see a flash of lightning?”

“Four or five leagues, sir.”

“Has any of you seen the faintest flash?”

“No, sir.”

“How far away can you hear thunder?”

“A league or two, sir.”

“Has any of you heard thunder?”

“No, sir.”

“Then those were not men, they were demons! They came to make us throw away our water so they could destroy us when we were weak. The foolish young merchant ahead of us had no sense. He must have been talked into pouring out his water and fallen prey to them. His wagons will be standing just as they were loaded, and we shall come upon them today. Go on as fast as you can, and don’t throw away even half a pint of water!”

With that he sent them on, and as they went they found the five hundred carts still loaded, with the bones of men and oxen lying all around. The Bodisat had his wagons unyoked and drawn up in a tight circle to make a strong camp. He saw that the men and oxen were fed early and had the oxen lie down in the middle, among the men. Then, with the leaders of the company, he stood guard with a drawn sword through all three watches of the night until dawn.

Early next morning, when everything needful had been done and the oxen fed, he left behind his weaker carts and took the stronger ones from the abandoned train, and he threw out his cheaper goods and loaded the more valuable ones in their place. When he reached the market he was bound for, he sold his goods for two or three times what they had cost, and he came home safely to his own city with his whole company.

Where this story comes from

This is the first story in the Jataka, the collection of tales about the Buddha’s earlier lives, here following T. W. Rhys Davids’s translation in Buddhist Birth Stories (1880), where it is titled “Holding to the Truth” (Apannaka Jataka). The Bodisat is Rhys Davids’s word for the future Buddha.

In the book the tale is framed by a “story of the present”: the Buddha tells it at the Jetavana monastery near Savatthi to five hundred followers of the merchant Anatha Pindika who had drifted back to their old teachers. At the end he names the foolish merchant as Devadatta and the wise merchant as himself. This page retells only the story of the past.

Read the original: Buddhist Birth Stories (Project Gutenberg)

Best for ages 9–12 — a desert journey where careful questions beat a deadly trick.

A closer reading

The two merchants initially offer plausible reasons for travelling first or second. The decisive difference comes later: one destroys a vital reserve on a stranger’s assurance, while the other keeps it until replacement water is actually present. The story’s strongest practical rule is about preserving options when a claim cannot yet be checked.

The wet clothes, mud and lotuses form a coordinated display of evidence. The second merchant compares that display with independent signs in the landscape. His questions also teach his companions how he reasons, rather than demanding obedience alone. The distances for seeing lightning and hearing thunder are part of the old telling, not dependable measurements for modern travel or weather judgment.

Try this with the story

Create a chart with ‘shown by the stranger’ and ‘checked independently.’ Place the lotuses, wet clothes, clouds and available water in the appropriate column. Explain why keeping the jars leaves a choice that smashing them removes.

Questions to ask

• Why are the initial arguments about travel order less important than the later water decision?
• Which signs come from the stranger himself?
• What can the merchants check without relying on his account?

More stories like this

• The Story of the Sandy Road — another Jataka caravan crossing a terrible desert
• The Story of the Merchant of Seri — a Jataka about an honest and a greedy trader
• The Mouse Merchant — a Jataka about a clever young merchant