In a forest near Benares lived thousands of quails, and their leader was a wise quail king. Every day a fowler came to the forest. He could copy a quail's call so cleverly that the birds gathered around the sound — and then, in a flash, he threw his great net over them, stuffed them into his basket, and carried them to the market.
The wise quail called his flock together. "Friends, this fowler is carrying us away one flock at a time. But listen — I know a way to defeat his net. The moment it falls over you, each of you must put your head through one hole in the net. Then flap your wings all together, lift the net as one, and carry it to a thorn bush. Drop it over the thorns, slip out from underneath, and fly free!"
The very next day, the net fell — and the quails did exactly as their king had taught. A thousand wings beat together, the net rose into the air like a kite, landed on a thorn bush, and every single bird escaped. Day after day it happened, until the fowler came home empty-handed each evening. "Do not worry," the fowler told his unhappy wife. "Those birds work together now. But quails are quails — sooner or later they will quarrel. And then I shall catch them all."
He was right. One morning a quail landed clumsily and bumped another's head. "Watch where you land, clumsy!" snapped one. "Who lifted the net higher, you or I?" snapped the other. The quarrel spread until half the flock was arguing about who worked hardest. The wise king warned them, "Quarrelling birds cannot lift a net. Danger grows wherever there is anger." But the quarrellers would not listen, so the wise quail led his faithful friends far away. When the net next fell upon the angry birds, each one shouted, "You lift first!" — and nobody lifted at all. The fowler happily filled his basket.
When the Buddha finished this story, he said, "In that life, the quarrelsome quail was Devadatta, and the wise quail king was I myself."