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And as he was relating to his friend his adventures from the time of his plunging into the stream, Śrídatta beheld a woman weeping in the road; when she said, "I am a woman going to Ujjayiní and I have lost my way," Śrídatta out of pity made her journey along with him. He and Nishthuraka, together with that woman, whom he kept with him out of compassion, halted that day in a certain deserted town. There he suddenly woke up in the night and beheld that the woman had slain Nishthuraka, and was devouring his flesh with the utmost delight. Then he rose up drawing his sword Mrigánka, and that woman assumed her own terrible form, that of a Rákshasí,*[1] and he seized that night-wanderer by her hair, to slay her. That moment she assumed a heavenly shape and said to him, " Slay me not, mighty hero, let me go, I am not a Rákshasí; the hermit Viśvámitra imposed this condition on me by a curse. For once when he was performing austerities from a desire to attain the position of the god of wealth, I was sent by the god to impede him. Then finding that I was not able to seduce him with my alluring form, being abashed, I assumed in order to terrify him a formidable shape. When he saw this, that hermit laid on me a curse suitable to my offence, exclaiming — 'Wicked one, become a Rákshasí and slay men.' And he appointed that my curse should end when you took hold of my hair; accordingly I assumed this detestable condition of a Rákshasí, and I have devoured all the inhabitants of this town; now to-day after a long time you have brought my curse to an end in the manner foretold; therefore receive now some boon." When he heard that speech of hers, Śrídatta said respectfully, " Mother grant that my friend may be restored to life. What need have I of any other boon?" "So be it," said she, and after granting the boon disappeared. Arid Nishthuraka rose up again alive without a scratch on his body. Then Śrídatta set out the next morning with him, delighted and astonished, and at last reached
Ujjayiní. There he revived by his appearance the spirits of his friends, who were anxiously expecting him, as the arrival of the cloud revives the peacocks. And after he had told all the wonders of his adventures, Báhuśálin went through the usual formalities of hospitality, taking him to his own home. There Śrídatta was taken care of by the parents of Báhuśálin, and lived with his friends as comfortably as if he were in his own house.
Once on a time, when the great feast of spring-tide †[2] had arrived, he went with his friends to behold some festal rejoicings in a garden. There he beheld a maiden, the daughter of king Bimbaki, who had come to see the show, looking like the goddess of the Splendour of Spring present in bodily form. She, by name Mrigánkavatí, that moment penetrated into his heart, as if through the openings left by the expansion of his eye. Her
