said, 'Alas, terrible is the world of mortals! Here no
creature can escape. Every creature's period of life, again, is short.
Beloved friends are always departing. It abounds with vanities and
falsehoods, with accusations and evil reports. Beholding again this
incident that enhances pain and grief, I do not for a moment like this
world of men. Alas, fie on you, ye men, that thus turn back, like foolish
persons, at the vulture's bidding, though you are burning with grief on
account of the death of this child. Ye cruel wights, how can you go away,
casting off parental affection upon hearing the words of a sinful vulture
of uncleansed soul? Happiness is followed by misery, and misery by
happiness. In this world which is enveloped by both happiness and misery,
none of these two exists uninterruptedly. Ye men of little understanding,
whither would ye go, casting off on the bare ground this child of so much
beauty, this son that is an ornament of your race. Verily, I cannot
dispel the idea from my mind that this child endued with comeliness and
youth and blazing with beauty is alive. It is not meet that he should
die.[453] It seems that ye are sure to obtain happiness. Ye that are
afflicted with grief on account of the death of this child will surely
have good luck today. Anticipating the probability of inconvenience and
pain (if you remain here for the night) and fixing your hearts on your
own comfort, whither would you, like persons of little intelligence, go,
leaving this darling?'"

"'Bhishma continued, "Even thus, O king, the kinsmen of the deceased
child, unable to decide upon what they should do, were, for
accomplishment of his own purpose, induced by that sinful jackal who
uttered agreeable falsehoods, that denizen of the crematorium who
wandered every night in quest of food, to stay in that place.

"'"The vulture said, 'Dreadful is this spot, this wilderness, that resounds
with the screech of owls and teems with spirits and Yakshas and
Rakshasas. Terrible and awful, its aspect is like that of a mass of blue
clouds. Casting off the dead body, finish the funeral rites. Indeed,
throwing away the body, accomplish those rites before the sun sets and
before the points of the horizon become enveloped in gloom. The hawks are
uttering their harsh cries. Jackals are howling fiercely. Lions are
roaring. The sun is setting. The trees on the crematorium are assuming a
dark hue in consequence of the blue smoke of the funeral pyre