There is a Hindu story about ten men who went on a long and dangerous journey. They passed through fire and water, over treacherous mountain passes and through disease-infested swamps, one after another, without a moment to rest or catch their breath.
When they finally reached a place they could stop, one of them began to count the survivors to see if any of them had been lost in the journey. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine." Then he burst into weeping at the loss of the tenth.
The second man, hearing the first man bewailing the loss of the tenth man, counted as well. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine." And he, too, burst into tears at the loss of the tenth.
And so it went. Each man counted nine men, and began to weep for the loss of the tenth.
At that moment a man on a white horse rode by, and, arrested by the sound of weeping, asked them what had caused such great sorrow.
The first man said to him, "We have just come from a long and dangerous journey, through fire and water, over treacherous mountains and swamps. We began as ten, but now are only nine, and we mourn the loss of our tenth companion."
The rider thought a moment, and then asked the first man if he would count the companions again. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine," the first man counted, and began to weep anew.
Then the rider on the horse leaned over and said, "You have forgotten something. You are the tenth."
