orchards laden with beautiful fruit. And by rivulets that flashed in the golden sunlight, there rose huts made of leaves and branches. And deer roamed fearlessly through the orchards and drank in the running stream, and monkeys chased each other along the heavy boughs that shaded the huts. Then Queen Damayanti knew that she had come to the hermitage of sages weary of the world. As she drew near, an aged man, clad only in bark, came out to meet her. "Fair Lady," he said, "whoever you are, be welcome to our hermitage and tell us if there is anything that we can do for you, for we will surely do it." "Venerable Sir," answered the queen, "listen to my story." And she told the ascetic the tale of her life, how she was the daughter of Bhima, King of Vidarbha, how in a Swayamwara she had chosen as her husband Nala King of the Nishadas, and how after losing his throne at dice to his brother Pushkara he had fled away and left her. "And now," continued Damayanti, "I seek my husband until death overcomes me. But I pray that I may see him soon. For I am faint with hunger and weary with travel. And in a few days my strength will fail me and I shall die in the forest."
As the queen spoke, other sages came from their huts and listened to her moving words. And when she had finished, tears stood in their eyes, for they pitied her deeply. Then the sage who had welcomed her went to one side and seated himself under a tree and passed into a trance. The queen looking at him could not tell whether he had died or was still living. But in a short time he opened his eyes and returned Damayanti's glance. "O Queen," he said, "by my magic power I have seen the things to be. And I tell you truly that your grief shall pass away and that you shall once
