Sarama and the Cattle Thieves

Far away, past the river Rasa that runs at the edge of the world, lived the Panis. They were rich, and in a stronghold walled with rock they kept a great herd of cattle shut away.

One day a visitor stood at their gate. She had come alone, on foot, across the whole width of the world.

The Rigveda tells this story as a conversation and nothing else. The Panis speak first, and they are astonished.

"What has brought Sarama here? The road is long, and it leads far away. What do you want from us? How did you travel? How did you ever cross the waters of the Rasa?"

"I come as the messenger of Indra," said Sarama. "I am looking for your great treasure, Panis."

The Panis looked at one another. They had heard the name.

"What is he like, this Indra? What does he look like, the one who sent you so far? Let him come here himself. We will make friends with him. He can be the herdsman of our cattle."

"You cannot trick him," said Sarama. "He is the one who tricks others. Deep rivers do not stop him. You will lie on the ground, Panis, struck down by Indra."

They tried pride next.

"These cows you are looking for, Sarama, have flown to the ends of the sky. Who would hand them over without a fight? Our weapons are sharp."

"Your words are not weapons," she said. "And whether your bodies can be hurt by arrows or not, Brihaspati will not spare you."

"Our treasure house is floored with rock," said the Panis. "It is full of cattle and horses and wealth, and good watchmen guard it. You have come to an empty place for nothing."

"The sages will come," said Sarama. "The Angirases will come, and their blood will be up. They will share out this herd among themselves. Then you will wish you had not said these things."

So the Panis changed their voice. Threats had done nothing, and they tried kindness.

"Sarama, you have come such a long way, and it was the gods who drove you to it. Do not go back. Stay here and be our sister. We will give you a share of the cattle, lovely one."

It was a fair offer from their side. She was far from home, and nobody would have known.

"I know nothing of brothers or sisters," said Sarama. "Indra knows, and the Angirases know. They wanted their cattle when I left them. Go away from here, Panis. Go far away."

The hymn stops there, on her refusal. Other hymns tell what followed. Brihaspati and the singing Angirases came to the rock, and Indra with them. They broke the cave open, as much with their song as with force, and the cattle came streaming out. With the cattle, the poets say, came the dawn and the light of the sun.

Centuries after the hymn, a book that explains the hymns of the Rigveda told the story again, and it was less kind to the messenger.

The beginning is the same. The Panis carry off Indra's cows and hide them beyond the Rasa. Brihaspati sees it and tells Indra, and Indra sends Sarama. She finds the place. The Panis ask who she is, and then they make their offer.

"Be our sister here. Let us share the cows."

"I do not want to be your sister," said Sarama, "and I do not want your wealth."

So far she is the Sarama of the hymn. But she had come a long way, and she was hungry.

"But I would like to drink the milk of those cows you are hiding."

The Panis were happy to oblige. They brought her the milk, and she drank it, because she liked the taste and because she was greedy for it. Then she turned for home and crossed the Rasa again, a hundred leagues from bank to bank.

Indra was waiting.

"You have seen the cows, I hope?"

The milk of the demons was still in her, and it had done its work.

"No," said Sarama.

Indra was furious. He struck her with his foot, and she brought up the milk she had drunk. Trembling with fear, she ran back the way she had come, towards the Panis.

Indra climbed into his chariot and followed her track, all the way to the stronghold. He struck down the Panis and brought his cows home.