to their sad tales of woe,
And straightway called his only son, and said--
"Dear son! my people's good I value more
Than thine own life. Go therefore to the woods
With all thine arrows and thy trusty bow,
And drag the dreaded tiger from his den,
And to their homes their wonted peace restore.
His spotted skin and murderous claws must soon
Be added to the trophies of the past,
Now hanging on our ancient palace walls."
The prince obeyed, and to the forest went:
Three days and nights he wandered in the woods,
But still found not the object of his search.
He missed his faithful men and lost his way,
Till worn and weary underneath a tree,
Whose shady boughs extended far and wide,
The lonely straggler stretched his limbs and slept,
And for a time forgot his dire distress.

He woke, and thus addressed himself with tears:
"Here I am left deserted and alone,
Perchance my faithful people at this hour
Are vainly searching for their hapless prince,
While I die here of hunger and of thirst.
And gladly would I welcome now the brute
That has attracted me to this strange spot,
To plunge his claws into my body, tear
My flesh, and break my bones, and feast on me
By gnawing them between his horrid jaws,
And so spare me from this slow lingering death."

So thought the royal youth of his sad doom,
When lo! a spotless figure, with a bow,
A pouch with arrows dangling on her back,
A hatchet in her hand for cutting wood,
And with a pitcher on her head, appeared.
Here every day she came to gather wood,
And, dressed in male attire, her heavy load
Took to the nearest town, sold it, then reached,
At close of day to cook the ev'ning meal,
Her cottage on the outskirts of the wood,
Where, with her sire, bent down with years, she lived,
And dragged her daily miserable life.
Such was the maid that was upon that day,
As if by instinct, drawn to the fair youth,
And such the huntress Radha he beheld.
A fairer woman never breathed the air--
No, not in all the land of Panchala.

The maid in pity saw his wretched plight,
Then from the pitcher took her midday meal,
And soon relieved his hunger and his thirst.
The grateful prince, delighted, told his tale,
And she, well pleased, thus spake: "Fair youth! grieve not,
Behold the brook that yonder steals along,
To this the tiger comes at noon to quench
His thirst. Then, safely perched upon a t