en vessels he fastened to a
mule, two lesser ones he bound upon his shoulders, and thus provided
he set out, with the old villager for his guide. In a short time they
came to a spot where some big trees towered above the barren country,
whilst under their shadow lay the dome of an ancient building. This
the guide pointed out as the well, but excused himself from going
further as he was an old man and tired, and it was already nearly
sunset, so that he must be returning home. So Ram Singh bade him
farewell, and went on alone with the mule.

[Illustration: 'WHAT THINK YOU, O MORTAL, OF MY FAIR AND LOVELY
WIFE?']

Arrived at the trees, Ram Singh tied up his beast, lifted the vessels
from his shoulder, and having found the opening of the well, descended
by a flight of steps which led down into the darkness. The steps were
broad white slabs of alabaster which gleamed in the shadows as he went
lower and lower. All was very silent. Even the sound of his bare feet
upon the pavements seemed to wake an echo in that lonely place, and
when one of the vessels which he carried slipped and fell upon the
steps it clanged so loudly that he jumped at the noise. Still he went
on, until at last he reached a wide pool of sweet water, and there he
washed his jars with care before he filled them, and began to remount
the steps with the lighter vessels, as the big ones were so heavy he
could only take up one at a time. Suddenly, something moved above him,
and looking up he saw a great giant standing on the stairway! In one
hand he held clasped to his heart a dreadful looking mass of bones, in
the other was a lamp which cast long shadows about the walls, and
made him seem even more terrible than he really was.

'What think you, O mortal,' said the giant, 'of my fair and lovely
wife?' And he held the light towards the bones in his arms and looked
lovingly at them.

Now I must tell you that this poor giant had had a very beautiful
wife, whom he had loved dearly; but, when she died, her husband
refused to believe in her death, and always carried her about long
after she had become nothing but bones. Ram Singh of course did not
know of this, but there came to his mind the second wise saying of the
guru, which forbade him to speak harshly or inconsiderately to others;
so he replied:

'Truly, sir, I am sure you could find nowhere such another.'

'Ah, what eyes you have!' cried the delighted giant, 'you at least can
see! I do not know