Seventy Maidens young and fair, with flowers decking
their golden hair. Seventy daughters of the king, come out to play and
laugh and swing and jibe at the stripling who'd sworn to slay their
father, the mightiest king of this day. But the youngest maid had a
heart of gold, and when she saw Rasalu so bold, and strong and handsome
riding to death, on his horse Iraki, she caught her breath, and
whispered to him as he passed her way:

"'Fair prince on thy charger so gray,
Turn thee back, turn thee back.
If thou lowerest thy lance for the fray,
Thy head will be forfeit to-day.
Dost love life? then, stranger! I pray
Turn thee back--turn thee back.'

"But Rasalu smiled in the maiden's face, and drew his rein for an
instant's space, while he gave her answer with courtly grace: 'Fair
maiden, I come from afar, sworn conqueror in love and in war. Thy father
my coming will rue, for his head in four pieces I'll hew. Then forth as
a bridegroom I'll ride with you, little maid, as my bride.'

"Now at these words, and his face so kind, and strong, and brave, the
maiden's mind fluttered, the blood through her heartstrings whirled, she
felt she could follow him through the world; but her sixty-nine sisters
were jealous and cried: 'Not so fast, young man! If _she_ be your bride,
_you_ be our younger brother, beside! So do our bidding or go on your
way.' 'Fair sisters,' quoth he, 'let me hear your say!' Now the sisters
vowed he should not succeed, so they took a whole hundred-weight of
seed, as fine as the hundred-weight of sand they mixed it with, then
gave command: 'If you wish to marry our sister, sir, take the seed from
the sand without demur.'

"Then Rajah Rasalu stood aghast; but he thought of the cricket's gift at
last, and taking it out of his pocket thrust it into the fire, and a
cloud as dust showed in the sky and the distant whirr of thousands of
wings caused the air to stir, as, dark'ning the day like a fun'ral pall,
a flight of crickets appeared at the call. 'What is our task?' asked his
friend with a laugh; 'only _that_? I've brought too many by half!' So
they set to work with a will indeed, till the sand lay separate from the
seed, and sixty-nine maidens pouted and frowned as they wondered _what_
new task could be found, to puzzle Rasalu and keep him there a slave to
the wishes of maidens fair. 'Now swing us all, sir, one by one, when we
grow tired your task is done!'--they laughed in their sleev