e to
cook it with, and inquire what this country is, and seek out a place
of rest for you. Do not be afraid; I shall soon return." Now, far off
in the distance, smoke was to be seen rising from tents which belonged
to some conjurors and dancing-people, and thither the Rajah bent his
steps, feeling certain he should be able to get fire, and perhaps
food also, from the inhabitants. When he got there, he found the place
was much larger than he had expected--quite a good-sized village, in
fact--the abode of Nautch people and conjurors. In all the houses the
people were busy, some dancing, some singing, others trying various
conjuring tricks or practising beating the drum, and all seemed happy
and joyful.

When the conjurors saw him, they were so much struck with his
appearance (for he was very handsome) that they determined to make
him, if possible, stay among them, and join their band. And they said
one to another, "How well he would look beating the drum for the
dancers! All the world would come to see us dance, if we had such a
handsome man as that to beat the drum."

The Rajah, unconscious of their intentions, went into the largest hut
he saw, and said to a woman who was grinding corn, "Bai, give me a
little rice, and some fire from your hearth." She immediately
consented, and got up to fetch the burning sticks he asked for; but
before she gave them to him, she and her companions threw upon them a
certain powder, containing a very potent charm; and no sooner did the
Rajah receive them than he forgot about his wife and little child, his
journey, and all that had ever happened to him in his life before;
such was the peculiar property of the powder. And when the conjurors
said to him, "Why should you go away? stay with us, and be one of us,"
he willingly consented to do so.

All this time Panch-Phul Ranee waited and waited for her husband, but
he never came. Night approached without his having brought her any
food or news of having found a place of shelter for her and the baby.
At last, faint and weary, she swooned away.

It happened that that very day the Ranee (Panch-Phul Ranee's husband's
mother) lost her youngest child, a fine little boy of only a day old;
and her servants took its body to the bottom of the garden to bury it.
Just as they were going to do so, they heard a low cry, and, looking
round, saw close by a beautiful woman lying on the ground, dead, or
apparently so, and beside her a fine little baby boy.