instructions; and
very soon he found himself opposite the temple, with the images of
three of the gods worshipped in India to prove that it had been a
sanctuary before the magician took up his abode in it. Directly
Sringa-Bhuja shouted out his message to Dhuma-Sikha, the wicked
dweller in the temple came rushing forth from the gateway, mounted
on a huge horse, which seemed to be belching forth flames from its
nostrils as it bounded along. For one terrible moment Sringa-Bhuja
feared that he was lost; but Marut, putting forth all his strength,
kept a little in advance of the enemy, giving the prince time to
scatter earth behind him. Immediately a great mountain rose up,
barring the road, and Sringa-Bhuja felt that he was saved. He was
mistaken: for, as he looked back, he saw Dhuma-Sikha coming over
the top of the mountain. The next moment the magician was close
upon him. So he emptied his bowl of water: and, behold, a huge river
with great waves hid pursuer and pursued from each other. Even this
did not stop the mighty Arab horse, which swam rapidly across, the
rider loudly shouting out orders to the prince to stop. When the
prince heard the hoofs striking on the dry ground behind him again,
he threw out the thorns, and a dense wood sprouted up as if by magic,
which for a few moments gave fresh hope of safety to Sringa-Bhuja;
for it seemed as if even the powerful magician would be unable to get
through it. He did succeed however; but his clothes were nearly torn
off his back, and his horse was bleeding from many wounds made by
the cruel thorns. Sringa-Bhuja too was getting weary, and remembered
that he had only one more chance of checking his relentless enemy. He
could almost feel the breath of the panting steed as it drew near;
and with a loud cry to his beloved Rupa-Sikha, he threw the burning
charcoal on the road. In an instant the grass by the wayside, the
trees overshadowing it, and the magic wood which had sprung from the
thorns, were alight, burning so fiercely that no living thing could
approach them safely. The wicked magician was beaten at last, and
was soon himself fleeing away, as fast as he could, with the flames
following after him as if they were eager to consume him.

Whether his enemy ever got back to his temple, Sringa-Bhuja never
knew. Exhausted with all he had been through, the young prince was
taken back to the palace by the faithful Marut, and there he found
his dear Rupa-Sikha awaiting him. She to