Rude Awakenings - Forest Sangha Publications

^0 T H I R D M O O N 06incense. We had to go down. But the long forested valley and the lineof hills stretching peacefully southwest toward Bodh Gaya told uswhich way to go from here.At the bottom of the hill was a jumble of stalls for the tourists. Wemoved on toward the forest across what had been Old Rajagaha. Thejail where the old king had been imprisoned by Ajatasattu was still there.Betrayed, imprisoned, and deprived of food, the old king’s only consolationwas to gaze at Vulture’s Peak through the window of his cell. Butdeath by starvation takes too long; eventually Ajatasattu grew impatientand had his father’s feet cut open and the wounds stuffed with salt. Itspeeded the process up.It was time to get out of this harsh town.N I C KAs we descended Vulture’s Peak, I bought tea and some snacks as ourbreakfast from the hawkers who were on their way up, their day’s wareshanging from poles across their shoulders. Then we crossed backthrough the stunted forest heading for a forest resthouse, one of theones I had booked from Patna. We might not have been able to stay atthe Japanese temple, but the resthouse should be no problem. The Patnawildlife office had recommended it and assured me the forest officerwould be delighted to see us.It was still early, and birds flitted about the scrub as we made our way.I kept stopping to look at them through my binoculars and then hurryingto catch up Ajahn Sucitto. When I spotted a rufus-backed shrikesitting on a bush, it was such a good-looking bird that I had to point itout to him, offering him my binoculars to take a look. To my surprisehe knew all about shrikes. He had owned a bird book as a child and hadlearned all the names and pictures, and although he had never seen areal shrike then or since, he still remembered it. This was a revelation;Ajahn Sucitto had, up until then, seemed so uninterested, dismissive2 3 4