er, and every night she climbed up and tucked herself
safely among the creepers which bound together the big branches, so that
neither lions nor tigers nor panthers might get at her.

When she woke up on the seventh morning she saw from her perch smoke
coming up from a little town on the edge of the forest. The sight of
the huts made her feel more lonely and helpless than before. She longed
desperately for a draught of milk from a gourd, for there were no
streams in that part, and she was very thirsty, but how was she to earn
anything with only one hand? And at this thought her courage failed, and
she began to cry bitterly.

It happened that the king's son had come out from the town very early to
shoot birds, and when the sun grew hot he left tired.

'I will lie here and rest under this tree,' he said to his attendants.
'You can go and shoot instead, and I will just have this slave to stay
with me!' Away they went, and the young man fell asleep, and slept long.
Suddenly he was awakened by something wet and salt falling on his face.

'What is that? Is it raining?' he said to his slave. 'Go and look.'

'No, master, it is not raining,' answered the slave.

'Then climb up the tree and see what it is,' and the slave climbed up,
and came back and told his master that a beautiful girl was sitting up
there, and that it must have been her tears which had fallen on the face
of the king's son.

'Why was she crying?' inquired the prince.

'I cannot tell--I did not dare to ask her; but perhaps she would tell
you.' And the master, greatly wondering, climbed up the tree.

'What is the matter with you?' said he gently, and, as she only sobbed
louder, he continued:

'Are you a woman, or a spirit of the woods?'

'I am a woman,' she answered slowly, wiping her eyes with a leaf of the
creeper that hung about her.

'Then why do you cry?' he persisted.

'I have many things to cry for,' she replied, 'more than you could ever
guess.'

'Come home with me,' said the prince; 'it is not very far. Come home to
my father and mother. I am a king's son.'

'Then why are you here?' she said, opening her eyes and staring at him.

'Once every month I and my friends shoot birds in the forest,' he
answered, 'but I was tired and bade them leave me to rest. And you--what
are you doing up in this tree?'

At that she began to cry again, and told the king's son all that had
befallen her since the death of her mother.

'I cannot come down wi