The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
and love, said to him--"Why do you not cast me this very day into
a dungeon, my husband? I am highly favoured, if I can benefit you
even at the sacrifice of my life. Let me die, but let not my lord
have misfortune. For a husband is the chief refuge of wives in this
world and in the next." Having heard this speech of hers, the king
said to himself with tears in his eyes; "I think there is no guilt
in her, nor in that Surakshita, for I saw that the colour of his
face did not change, and he seemed without fear. Alas! nevertheless
I must ascertain the truth of that rumour." After reflecting thus,
the king in his grief said to the queen--"Then it is best that a
dungeon should be made here, queen!" She replied--"Very good"--so the
king had a dungeon easy of access made in the women's apartments,
and placed the queen in it. And he comforted her son Sringabhuja,
(who was in despair and asked the reason,) by telling him exactly what
he told the queen. And she, for her part, thought the dungeon heaven,
because it was all for the king's good. For good women have no pleasure
of their own; to them their husbands' pleasure is pleasure. [571]
When this had been done, that other wife of the king's, named
Ayasolekhá, said of her own accord to her son, who was named
Nirvásabhuja,--"So, our enemy Gunavará has been thrown into a dungeon,
and it would be a good thing if her son were banished from this
country. So, my boy, devise a scheme with the help of your other
brothers by which Sringabhuja may be quickly banished from the
country." Having been addressed in this language by his mother,
the jealous Nirvásabhuja told his other brothers, and continued to
ponder over a scheme.
And one day, as the king's sons were practising with their weapons
of war, they all saw an enormous crane in front of the palace. And
while they were looking with astonishment at that misshapen bird,
a Buddhist mendicant, who possessed supernatural knowledge, came
that way and said to them--"Princes, this is not a crane, it is
a Rákshasa named Agnisikha, who wanders about in an assumed shape
destroying towns. So pierce him with an arrow, that being smitten he
may depart hence." When they heard this speech of the mendicant's,
the ninety-nine elder brothers shot their arrows, but not one struck
the crane. Then that naked mendicant again said to them--"This younger
brother of yours, named Sringabhuja, is able to strike this crane,
so let him take a bow suitable for the purpose." When Nirvásabhuja
heard that, the treacherous one remembered the injunction of his
mother, an opportunity for carrying out which had now arrived, and
reflected--"This will be a means of getting Sringabhuja out of the
country. [572] So let us give him the bow and arrow belonging to
our father. If the crane is pierced and goes off with our father's
golden arrow sticking in it, Sringabhuja will follow it, while we
are searching for the arrow. And when he does not find, in spite of
his search, that Rákshasa transformed into a crane, he will continue
to roam about hither and thither, he will not come back without the
arrow." Thus reflecting, the treacherous one gave to Sringabhuja
his father's bow with the arrow, in order that he might smite the
crane. The mighty prince took it and drew it, and pierced that crane
with the golden arrow, the notch of which was made of a jewel. The
crane, as soon as it was pierced, went off with the arrow sticking in
its body, and flying away departed with drops of blood falling from
the wound. Then the treacherous Nirvásabhuja and the other brothers,
instigated by his hints, said to the brave Sringabhuja--"Give us
back the golden arrow that belongs to our father, otherwise we will
abandon our bodies before your eyes. For unless we produce it, our
father will banish us from this country, and its fellow is not to be
made or obtained." When Sringabhuja heard that, he said to those crafty
ones--"Be of good cheer! Do not be afraid--Abandon your terror! I will
go and slay that miserable Rákshasa and bring back the arrow." Having
said this, Sringabhuja took his own bow and arrows, and went in the
same direction in which the Rákshasa had gone, quickly following up
the track of the drops of blood, that had fallen on the ground. The
other sons returned delighted to their mothers, and Sringabhuja, as he
went on step by step, at last reached a distant forest. Seeking about
in it, he found in the wood a great city, like the fruit of his own
tree of merit fallen to him in due time for enjoyment. There he sat
down at the root of a tree to rest, and as if in a moment beheld a
maiden of wonderful beauty coming there, appearing to have been made
by the Creator in some strange way of ambrosia and poison; since by
her absence she deprived of life, and by her presence she bestowed
it. And when the maiden slowly approached him, and looked at him
with an eye raining love, the prince fell in love with her and said
to her--"Gazelle-eyed one, what is the name of this city, and to whom
does it belong? Who are you, and why have you come here? tell me." Then
the pearly-toothed maid turned her face sideways, and fixed her eye
on the ground, and spake to him with sweet and loving voice--"This
city is Dhúmapura, the home of all felicity; in it lives a mighty
Rákshasa by name Agnisikha; know that I am his matchless daughter,
Rúpasikhá by name, who have come here with mind captivated by your
unparalleled beauty. Now you must tell me who you are, and why you
have come here." When she said this, he told her who he was, and
of what king he was the son, and how he had come to Dhúmapura for
the sake of an arrow. Then Rúpasikhá, having heard the whole story,
said--"There is no archer like you in the three worlds, since you
pierced even my father with a great arrow, when he was in the form
of a crane. And I took that golden arrow for my own, by way of a
plaything. But my father's wound was at once healed by the minister
Mahádanshtra, who excels all men in knowledge of potent drugs for
curing wounds. So I will go to my father, and after I have explained
the whole matter, I will quickly introduce you into his presence,
my husband; so I call you, for my heart is now fully set upon you."
Having said this, Rúpasikhá left Sringabhuja there, and immediately
went into the presence of her father Agnisikha, and said--"Father,
there has come here a wonderful prince named Sringabhuja, matchless
for gifts of beauty, birth, character and age. I feel certain that
he is not a man, he is some portion of a god incarnate here below,
so, if he does not become my husband, I will certainly abandon my
life." When she said this to him, her father the Rákshasa said to
her--"My daughter, men are our appropriate food, nevertheless, if
your heart is set upon it, let it be so; bring your prince here, and
shew him to me." When Rúpasikhá heard that, she went to Sringabhuja,
and after telling him what she had done, she took him into the presence
of her father. He prostrated himself, and Agnisikha, the father of the
maiden, after saluting him courteously, said to him--"Prince, I will
give you my daughter Rúpasikhá, if you never disobey my orders." When
he said this, Sringabhuja, bending low, answered him--"Good! I will
never disobey your orders." When Sringabhuja said this to him,
Agnisikha was pleased and answered--"Rise up! Go and bathe, and
return here from the bath-room." After saying this to him, he said
to his daughter--"Go and bring all your sisters here quickly." When
Agnisikha had given these orders to Sringabhuja and Rúpasikhá, they
both of them went out, after promising to obey them.
Then the wise Rúpasikhá said to Sringabhuja--"My husband, I have a
hundred sisters, who are princesses, and we are all exactly alike,
with similar ornaments and dresses, and all of us have similar
necklaces upon our necks. So our father will assemble us in one
place, and in order to bewilder you, will say 'Choose your own love
out of the midst of these.' For I know that such is his treacherous
intention, otherwise why is he assembling all of us here. So when we
are assembled, I will put my necklace on my head instead of my neck,
by that sign you will recognise me; then throw over my neck the garland
of forest flowers. And this father of mine is somewhat silly, he has
not a discerning intellect; besides what is the use against me of
those powers which he possesses by being a Rákshasa? So, whatever he
says to entrap you, you must agree to, and must tell it to me, and I
shall know well enough what further steps to take." Having said this,
Rúpasikhá went to her sisters, and Sringabhuja, having agreed to do
what she said, went to bathe. Then Rúpasikhá came with her sisters into
the presence of her father, and Sringabhuja returned, after he had been
washed by a female servant. Then Agnisikha gave a garland of forest
flowers to Sringabhuja, saying, "Give this to that one of these ladies,
who is your own love." He took the garland and threw it round the neck
of Rúpasikhá, [573] who had previously placed the necklace on her head
by way of token. Then Agnisikha said to Rúpasikhá and Sringabhuja,--"I
will celebrate your marriage ceremony to-morrow morning."
Having said this, he dismissed those two lovers and his other
daughters to their apartments, and in a short time he summoned
Sringabhuja and said this to him; "Take this yoke of oxen, and go
outside this town, and sow in the earth the hundred khárís [574]
of sesame-seed which are piled there in a heap." When Sringabhuja
heard that, he was troubled, and he went and told it to Rúpasikhá,
and she answered him as follows--"My husband, you need not be in the
least despondent about this, go there at once; I will easily perform
this by my magic power." When he heard this, the prince went there,
and, seeing the sesame-seeds in a heap, despondently began to plough
the land and sow them, but while he was beginning, he saw the land
ploughed and all the seeds sown in due course by the might of his
lady-love's magic power, and he was much astonished.
So he went to Agnisikha, and told him that this task was accomplished;
then that treacherous Rákshasa again said to him--"I do not want
the seeds sown, go and pile them up again in a heap." When he heard
that, he again went and told Rúpasikhá. She sent him to that field,
and created innumerable ants, [575] and by her magic power made them
gather together the sesame-seeds. When Sringabhuja saw that, he went
and told Agnisikha that the seeds had been piled up again in a heap.
Then the cunning but stupid Agnisikha said to him--"Only two yojanas
from this place, in a southerly direction, there is an empty temple
of Siva in a wood. In it lives my dear brother Dhúmasikha--go there
at once, and say this in front of the temple, 'Dhúmasikha, I am
sent by Agnisikha as a messenger to invite you and your retinue:
come quickly, for to-morrow the ceremony of Rúpasikhá's marriage is
to take place.' Having said this, come back here to-day with speed,
and to-morrow marry my daughter Rúpasikhá." When Sringabhuja was thus
addressed by the rascal, he said--"So be it"--and went and recounted
the whole to Rúpasikhá. The good girl gave him some earth, some
water, some thorns, and some fire, and her own fleet horse, and said
to him--"Mount this horse and go to that temple, and quickly repeat
that invitation to Dhúmasikha as it was told to you, and then you must
at once return on this horse at full gallop, and you must often turn
your head and look round; and if you see Dhúmasikha coming after you,
you must throw this earth behind you in his way; if in spite of that,
Dhúmasikha pursues you, you must in the same manner fling the water
behind you in his path; if in spite of that he comes on, you must in