The Man in Black from the North

Manu, the father of mankind, had many sons. One of them was called Nabhanedishtha, and he was away from home, living with his teacher as students did.

While he was gone, his brothers divided their father's property among themselves. They did not keep a share for him.

When he came home and saw what had been done, he went to them.

"What have you set aside for me?"

The brothers looked at one another. "Father," they said. "You can have our father."

It was a cruel joke, or perhaps it was not a joke at all. He went to Manu.

"They have given you to me as my share, father."

"Do not mind them, my boy," said Manu. "I will tell you how to make your own fortune. The sages called the Angirases are holding a great sacrifice so that they may reach heaven. Every time they come to the sixth day of it, they lose their way. They do not know the right hymns. You do. Go and recite these two hymns for them on the sixth day. When they rise to heaven, they will leave their wealth to you."

Nabhanedishtha went. He recited the hymns, and on the sixth day the Angirases found their way at last.

As they left for heaven, they turned to him. "This thousand is yours, brahmin."

He was gathering it together on the sacrificial ground when a man came walking towards him out of the north. The man was dressed in black.

"This is mine," said the stranger. "Whatever is left on the place of sacrifice is mine."

"But they gave it to me," said Nabhanedishtha.

"Then let us ask your father," said the man in black.

The boy went home and put the question to Manu. He must have hoped for a different answer from the one he got.

"It is his, my boy," said Manu. "It belongs to him. But he will give it to you."

So Nabhanedishtha walked back to the ground where the stranger was waiting. He could have said anything. There was no one there to hear him but the man in black.

"It is yours, blessed one," he said. "So my father tells me."

The stranger looked at him.

"Then I give it to you," he said, "because you have spoken the truth."

The book closes with the lesson it wants remembered: one who knows this should speak only the truth.

The Aitareya never gives the stranger's name. A second Vedic book tells the same story and names him outright.

In this telling it is Manu himself who divides the property and leaves the young student out. But Manu also sends him to the Angirases with the knowledge they need, and when they go up to heaven they leave him their cattle.

He was walking among his new herd on the sacrificial ground when Rudra came up to him.

"These are my cattle," said Rudra.

"They gave them to me."

"That was not theirs to do," said Rudra. "Whatever is left on the place of sacrifice is mine."

Here there is no walk home to ask a father and no test of honesty. There is a bargain, and Rudra is the one who offers it.

"Give me a share in the sacrifice," he said, "and I will have no designs on your cattle."

So Nabhanedishtha poured out an offering for him, the last of the Soma that remained. And Rudra kept his word and left the herd alone.

The book preserves the words that go with that offering. "This is your share, Rudra, the share you asked for. Be pleased with it."

It adds a piece of advice as well, drawn from the same story: do not linger on a place of sacrifice when the rite is over. That ground belongs to someone.