same period of time. You, the first, were born in the house of a
king. The second was an oilman's son, who was slain by the third,
a jogi, or anchorite, who kills all he can, wafting the sweet scent of
human sacrifice to the nostrils of Durga, goddess of destruction.
Moreover, the holy man, after compassing the death of the
oilman's son, has suspended him head downwards from a mimosa
tree in a cemetery. He is now anxiously plotting thy destruction.
He hath murdered his own child-- "

"And how came an anchorite to have a child?" asked Raja Vikram,
incredulously.

"That is what I am about to tell thee," replied the giant. "In the
good days of thy generous father, Gandharba-Sena, as the court
was taking its pleasure in the forest, they saw a devotee, or rather a
devotee's head, protruding from a hole in the ground. The white
ants had surrounded his body with a case of earth, and had made
their home upon his skin. All kinds of insects and small animals
crawled up and down the face, yet not a muscle moved. Wasps had
hung their nests to its temples, and scorpions wandered in and out
of the matted and clotted hair; yet the hermit felt them not. He
spoke to no one; he received no gifts; and had it not been for the
opening of his nostrils, as he continually inhaled the pungent
smoke of a thorn fire, man would have deemed him dead. Such
were his religious austerities.

"Thy father marvelled much at the sight, and rode home in
profound thought. That evening, as he sat in the hall of audience,
he could speak of nothing but the devotee; and his curiosity soon
rose to such a pitch, that he proclaimed about the city a reward of