The Moon-Maiden

It was in the old days that are gone down into
the sea where the singing-fish sing lullabies to
them always in the seaweed groves, when the seas
were first churned and Tjakshmi with her twin
gifts, Beauty and Sorrow, was bom; before the
Asuras, those proud old Titans, ever rose up in
their wrath and dared to war with the Oods; be-
fore ever the last Buddha in his hare-days was
made hare-prince of the Moon.

It was in the very old, old dajrs, and the Moon
was always full, and shone with quiet peaceful
rays upon the men that knew no sin; when
Chetiyah was king of Damba-diva and borne up
always in mid air by the four gods, before he told
the lie that drove them all away, so that he fell
to the outraged Earth that shrank back from his
pollution and opened a great fiery chasm, so that
he went down quick into A 'pa, the lowest hell.

And every night, when the winds held their
breath to hear the whispers of the gods as they
walked in tiie still Earth-Garden, the Moon-
Maiden came down through softest fieece of light-
est clouds, and bathed her white loveliness among
the lotuses in the Restful Lake. But the Restful
Lake was lost long ago, when the Moon-Maiden
fell in love^mortal love, as I shall tell you now.


Only we know that it lay somewhere in Lanka's
(Old Ceylon's) wooded d^ths, wrapped round in
mirrored stillness, always.

Every night she used to lie floating, whiter than
the lotuses that clustered round her, with dia-
mond-flecked leaves, tenderly, while the waters
kissed her eyes and brows and cheeks, telling her
all their dreams of quiet thoughtfulness, perfect
peace; and many a god came down to the shores
of the Restful Lake to woo her for her bright
beauty, night after night, singing his sweetest
songs through the reedy sedge. But always she
shrank back, cold and chaste, into the coyest veil
of lotus-cups, and would not hear.

And so the ages ran on, and the Moon-Maiden
was a maiden still, unloving, though all-loved.

But for many a night, unseen by her, there had
been one watching with reverent gaze, young
Prince Chulani, the brave hunter, whom all the
maids of Lanka sighed for, all in vain. For he
ever left song and feast, and wandered into the
still wood aJone, longing only for the fair vision
in the waters of the Restful Lake.

And the weeks sped on, and the months sped
on, and still he could only watch from the tangles
of the mango groves, seeing always, but daring
never to be seen. Till one time a great longing
seized him, and he rose up swift and silent from
his ambush, and stepped down into the dim
waters, and with strong arms clove his way
stealthily to where the Moon-Haid^ lay, all asleep
with the low whisperisg of the waters. And close
to her cheek he laid his own, and twined her long
hair round his brow, and breathed, fearful yet
brave, into her ear, ''Oh, Queen of all my dreams,
awake!"

But over the ftightened waters went a shiver,
and the lotuses closed their cups for fear, and the
sedges hushed their lullabies and the Moon-Maiden
was gone, far away back to the black-blue sky
through the Welding clouds of her mother Night.

But he went away mourning many a weary day,
nor ever to the Restful Lake durst go again, but
always with heavy brow he brooded apart in the
halls of the palace, heedless of hest of king or smile
of maid: and all the people looked sorrowing on
their changed hero, who wrought no longer feats
of arms, nor deed of chase, nor any noble thing.

Now the king's High Priest, Seneka, who knew
the songs and tongues of every bird, ajid read the
rede of cloud and star, saw all this sorrow Uiat
had come upon Chulani, and how he forsook the
worship of the holy gods: and he called him to
him alone in his secret chamber, and made him
tell him all his grief.

And when the tale was told he was sore amazed,
and for three days took counsel with himself, and
with the Parrot-Pandit, wiser than all birds.
''Much hast thou dared, Chulani, for mortal
to love deathless maid: to her death never comes.
for she is Ainara-d6yi,* but thou, like all mankind,
must die. Yet I have found a way whereby thou
mayst win the love of the bright Moon-Maiden, so
only thou hast skill and daring* for the deed that
must first be done."

Then Chulani spake short and joyful, ''I dare
all, and she shall give me skill!"

"Then hearken to me. In the land of the N&ga
King, beneath Samanella Kanda,** the butterfly
hill, whiUier twice a year the troops of butterflies
wing their way to bow down before the great
Naga^ th^e lies a huge cave, deep and dim, where-
in the N&gas keep their magic treasures. And all
day long, and all night through, a seven-headed
N&ga keeps the door, watching always with sleep-
less eyes lest any steal away their hoard. And in
the seventh head of this Naga is the Wishful
Jewel; this, if you canst win, thou mayst gain all
that thy heart longs for— all save immortality
only; that one gift the N&gas cannot give. But

*"Axiiara-d6yi" means "The deathless lady."
**"SainaneUa Kanda"-^<< Butterfly Momitain;" this
is Adam's Peak. A common phenomenon in Oeylon is the
pilgrimage of hosts of butterflies, mile after mUe iiying
towards the Peak. The Buddhists say they go to pay
homage to the Sri Pada or sacred footstep of Buddha, but
long before Buddhism, in the days when the N&gas, or
fabulous snakes, held the hill country of Ceylon, the but-
terflies went the same journeys, for the benefit of the
K&ga Bajah.

think well ere thou resolve. For like should ever
mate with like, and what hath mortal to do with
love for the Immortals?"

But Chulani was young, and heeded naught of
thought or care, nor prudent saws. Only his
breath came quick and his eye lightened as he
heard of the Wishful Jewel and the N&ga monster,
and he laughed out for very joy of love and ent^-
prise, ''Aha! Now will I slay that seven-headed
Naga, and win that rare jewel of his, and the
Moon-Maiden, the white-browed Amara-devi, shall
be mine even yet!— all mine!"

And day after day, for two whole weeks, he
worked hard with the King's chief armourer,
forging arrow heads of bluest sted, and sturdy
shafts of toughest teak, and a great round shield
with many a mystic word inscribed. And in l^e
end he started forth on his long journey to the
N4ga land through the waste of unknown jungles
and long sand-blown plains, while the people all
came down thronging to the city gates to see him
go, and many a maiden held her breath, peering
through her lifted veil, watching the gay young
hunter as he went, and thinklTig sorrowfully how
th^ would never see him again, but the serpent's
fiery breath would scorch his fair beauty into
hideous death.

But he strode stoutly on. Day after day
through slumbrous shade of heavy-hanging creep-
er-clustered trees, where the fierce sun's rays
could scarcely pierce, and always dead silence of
utter loneliness brooded over gnarled windings of
twisted roots and giant trunks, so that scarce two
fathoms of this way might be seen; only the but-
terfly pilgrims floated lightly overhead, and he
knew well that their way was his, and their track
would never enl.

And at night the thick darkness came down,
and the trees sprung into sudd^ life of myriad
insects' hum, and far away he heard the boom of
elephant, and wandering jackal's cry, while every
branch and every creeper hung and swung in flt-
ful shapes around him, till thqr almost seemed to
teem with life, and whisper in bw words that he
might not know, of how the way was perilous and
long, and the end of all uncertainty, or certain
death; and were there not damsels at home as fair
and rare as any dream-maiden in a haunted lake?
But he shut his ears bravely, and would not hear,
looking only up to the sky he scarce could see,
where she, his queen, smiled brightly from the
placid depths through silver canopy of cloud and
milky way.

And all his heart went up, ''My love, thou shalt
be mine!'' and fear and loneliness fled away.

So many a day he joumqred, till the thick jun-
gle ended and he came to a great salt stretch of
sand and salt, blown over always by the hot east
wind that burned, and blazed, and scorched; here
was no life nor track of living thing, nor any
shade of scantiest tree, nor green of herb, nor
gleam of water, but all one dreary desolateaess;
and the red daze of heat hung oyer on the copper
sky.

And for two days, faint with thirsty he strug-
gled on, hoarding the scant water in his gourd
with jealous care. But on the third day it was
all finished, and the sun beat down on his bowed
head with pitiless power, and his ^es were dim
for utter weariness and glazing glare, while his
parched tongue clove close and dry to the roof
of his mouth; and in the end he sank down on the
hot sand, death-stricken.

But his time was not yet come; and in a while
he was half roused, hearing a pleasant rippling of
running waters, and sough of waving trees; and
over all a sweet low song, sung in his own tongue,
but in voice so sweet as never mortal sang.

And for a long time he lay, not daring to (q)en
his eyes lest it should be some false mirage; but
still the song went on, and the burning heat and
pain were gone; and he said to himself: ''Now
am I surely dead, and have changed into some
other stage in the long soul-wandering ; ' ' and Icmg-
ing much to know into what he had transmigrated,
he sat up and gazed around.

But he was a man still, his very self it seemed:
but all around him instead of desert waste was
greenest verdure, and long carpets of such flowers
as never in his life had he seen before, and scented
trees bent over him loaded with bright fruits and
blossom both at onoe, and through the vista of
their arching he beheld the fair glinting of a clear
rippling streamlet, purling happily to itself of all
the bright sights it had seen, and all the good
deeds it had done to the thirsty earth.

And on the tree just overhill were two figures—
Bird-Maidens th^ seemed, with fairest faces of
Lakshmi's daughters, and long floating hair that
wound round softest bosoms that swelled into ten-
derest song as he sat listening, and lithe throats
with fullest sweetness curving; only all the rest
of them was bird's plumage, soft and rare as bird
of Paradise.

And when they saw how he was awake and
wondering, the twain flew gently down and sat
on either side of him, fluting still their silver mel-
ody, singing of rest after wandering and love,
and gazing upon him with long eyes, lid-shadowed^
till Chulani felt all life revive, and he stretched
out his hands to them, and said ''Tell me, sweet
saviours of my life in the waste wilderness, who
are ye?*'

And they, singing still, murmured, ''We are the
Kanduro, the Bird-BIaidens of the Passing Hour;
and we sing always of how the skies and woods
and life and love are bright and young, and we
take no thought of morrow or sorrow, but fly
always floating after the pleasures of the passing
hour. But who art thou, jrouth? and whither
doft tbou joiiriiey throof^ tlie deKTi €f '
Land? We found thee c^ing and funtod, 1ml
tlum waft too goodly to die, so we bon lliae iqpon
onr wingi and bronglit tliee to tlie fur lunrea cf
the Paffiiig Hour."

And he axuwered, "I am Gbnlani, tram Hm pal-
ace of king Wddeha, and I go to tlie land of flie
N&ga king to slay the great seven-headed Niga^
and win the Wishful Jewel"

Then ttiey leaned over him, and smoothed his
ebon hair lovingly, "But what hast ttiou to do
with N&ga or Wishful Jewel? Why shooldst
thou die? For thou wilt surely be slain hy the
poison-breath of the Sleepless Monster. We have
heard full many a tale of many a one slain by
him."

But he laughed short, "Die or live, go I must;
for I love Amara-d6vi, the moon-maiden, and in
no other way can I win her, save only by the
Wishful Jewel."

"Amara-d6vi? oh, we have seen her often; cold
is she, and white, and proud, and heeds naiight ot
swain or love. Bather stay with us and dwell
ever in our pleasant land, and wed with us; no
scornful damsels are we, but always we love the
brightness of sweet youth and joy. And thou art
all too fair for such as she."

But he was steadfast, and would not stay.

Then the Bird-Maidens sang again, a sleepy
long of restfulness, bidding him at least rest while
on his toilsome way ere he went on through the
scorched desert of the Trackless Land And be-
cause the way was long, and he sore wearied, he
consented to bide one day in their pleasant bower
beneath the green trees by the purling brook. And
they kissed his tired ey6s, and sang again to him,
and fondled him to sleep, weaving a drowsy charm
of magic melody.

And never would he have waked again from
the slumber to which they had lulled him, but
that the Parrot-Pandit, who, sent by Seneka^ had
always followed him unseen, now came, and perch-
ing in the foliage near screamed thrice with the
scream of the eagle-king. And the Bird-Maidens
flew off for fear, leaving him there on the moss-
grown bank asleep, ere yet the charm was ended.

Then the Parrot-Pandit flew down to Chulani,
and spake in human voice, "Awake, awake, Chu-
lani, rouse up quickly! Thou art in haunted
land, and the Kanduro will lull thee into endless
sleep, far from fame and ftiends, and enterprise
and home, and thou wilt slumber on, a laggard
nothingness, for all eternity. Awake, wake! Arise
and fly, while yet there is time.''

But the chann had well nigh worked, and Chu-
lani was hard to rouse; but at last he rose up sigh-
ing, and went on with lingering steps, and imme-
diately stream and grove and pleasant shade had
faded far away, and he was toiling painfully on
once more through the burning sand. And the
Eanduro, changed now into foul vultures, came
flying after him, flapping wfth noisome wings
around his head, waiting till he should 'fall faint-
ing to feast on his carcass.

But the Parrot-Pandit still kept near him, and
gave him a seed, round and red like olinder; and
straightway Chulani felt his strength revive as
the strength of ten men, and he shook his arrows
at the foul birds and spake wrathfully, ''0 false
Bird-Maidens, now do I know your foul vileness!
Fain would I slay ye, only that these shafts are for
the N&ga monster only!"

But they screamed wrathfully, and flew off to
tell the N&ga king how one was coming to slay
his guard and steal the Wishful Jewel away from
him.

And now for many days, with no break nor
chance of any kind, Chulani wandered on wearily
with the Parrot-Pandit always following: until
at last the blue hills rose up in the distance, and
hour by hour grew nearer, with white clouds
floating round their hazy peaks, and always a
shimmer of heat-mist rising up between them and
the hot sandy plain below.

And soon the trees, flrst parched and straggling,
but soon spreading into tall jungles, came again,
and call of bird and hum of insect told of life
once more. And Chulani breathed again, for that
the weary desert was ended, and he drew nigh to
the N&ga land. And he strode firmly on, longing
for high emprise.

But, aB he hastened to scale the soaring crags,
the Parrot-Pandit stayed him, knowing things to
come. For he knew how the Kanduro had warned
the N&ga king, and already, far off, he saw the
danger that would come.

Therefore he spake again, in human voice, ''0,
Chulani, now will a swarm of serpents, small but
terrible, beset thee, crowding up firom every crag
as thou dost climb; and shaft and arrow will avail
thee naught against their countless hosts, but they
shall come hissing from afar, hasting in dread
array, with poisoned fangs of death and pain."

And Chulani was sad, and said, ''If they be so
many wherewith shall I slay them? for I am
but one, and my quiver will fail."

But the sage Parrot answered, ''It is not with
weapon that thou shouldst meet them. Thou must
bide here, fasting, three days, without fail or fear,
and I will fly hence to the land of Dambs-diva,
where are the seven peaks of Meru, even to the
magic tree which the three daughters of Midnight
planted; and always with watch and ward they
guard it well. But to me will they give of ita
leaves, and thou shalt anoint thyself with them,
and eat of its ftuit, and the poison of the serpent-
hosts shall be harmless to thee, and every snake
that bites through the magic juice of those leaves
shall himself die miserably, but thou shall go on
thy \my in safety."

So the Parrot-Pandit left him, and flew swifUy
on towards the narrow sea that separated Lanka
trom Damba-diva, seeking the magic leavesL But
Chulani was left alone, pondering much on the
things which were happening.
And the days passed wearily in lonesome thought,
with always the same sky, and same ardi of trees,
and same stillness brooding monotonously over
him. And the second day went, and the third,
and fourth and still the Parrot-Pandit came not;
till Chulani 's heart throbbed restlessly, chafing at
delay.

And on the fifth day, as the evening rose slowly
up the dim east, with one pale star watching the
wan green day that died in the western sky, where
the peak of Smanella-kanda loomed gray and dark
against the fading light, while the trees waved
heavy arms over him wearily, he lay watching the
calm still moon rising in her peaceful beauty over
the lulled silence, and he fashioned to himself in
eager longing the rare loveliness of Amara-d6vi
shaping forth from the yellow disc in the opal
sky; and as he lay, waking-dreaming, sleep came
upon him, and he dreamed that down the long-
slanting moonbeams came the spirit form of the
bright Moon-M^Mlen, till she stood over him,
white and holy, and smiled upon him, her wor-
shipper.

And he lay a little happy while gazing upon
the glorious vision and then he murmured, ''Ah
fairest Queen, why must I tarry so long ere I be-
hold indeed thine own most radiant self, and win
thee for mine own?"

But she, soft smiling, made answer, ''Why
shouldest thou tarry? Why not press on and
dare the Naga-sentinel, and wrest the Wishful
Jewel? weary one of little courage, why is
thy heart so faint?"

And he awoke, and swore a great oath that
naught should stay him more, but in very sooth,
oome what might, he would be up and doing with
the morning.

But he knew not that it was not Amara-d6vi at
all, but the youngest Kandura who had come to
him in his vision. For she had been sent forth
by the Ndga king to lure him on, and had taken
upon herself the form of Amara-devi, coming in
false beauty down the wan moon-path.

Therefore he rose up at early dawn sorely an-
gered at himself, chiding himself for a fool and a
woman for fearing the Parrot-Pandit's tales—
what were they, true or false? Was not she, his
Queen, awaiting him? And who was he that he
should stay?

And he strode off wrathf ully, and begim climb-
ing the rugged steeps, where the bare rocks jutted
out black and sharp from tangled shroud of fern
and thorn, steep after steep rising sheer and
beetling over him.

And the noonday sun struck hard and hot, and
he paused a while for utter weariness, and leaned
up against a great rock that cast its grateful shade
over the burning slope. But in a moment from
among the pleasant grass there sprang a small
green snake, and bit him in the hand, and the
poison rushed burning through Uis veins, tiirob-
bing and shooting in painful surgings.

And even when he bound up the wound, with
teeth hard-set for pain and fear of death, there
came a troop of snakes, following after that other,
and they all sprang at him in fierce savageness,
and the air was filled with their hissing.

But Chulani had leaped up on to a ledge of the
rock, and with his back firm set against it he
covered himself with his shield, and with an arrow
held club-wise he warded off the serpent swarm,
dealing blow after blow valiantly, and felling and
slaying many an one. But the rest still hissed
and writhed and reared their poisonous heads
against him and venom from the bite which had
taken him unawares swelled hia arm till he scarce
could hold his arrow, and the poison mounted up
towards his heart and head till his brain heg&n
to reel and mists rose up before his eyes, and he
felt that he must of a surety die.

And he thought bitterly of the Parrot-Pandit,
and cursed him for tarrying so long, and himself
for not waiting till he should bring the magic
leaves, and his Fates for that they had cast his
lot in evil chance.

And now he heard the whirring swing of heavy
wings overhead and looking up with despairing
eyes he saw two huge vultures perching on a crag
above him, waiting for the end. And he knew
that they were the Kundaro, come to see him die;
and for very wrath thereat he roused up and smote
more savagely with his arrow-shaft at the ser-
pents, aud his strength revived for a little while.

For a little while only. And the Kanduro
laughed out and spake in human voice, ''Thrice
fool! why didst thou leave us when we came to
thee fair and rare, the Bird-Maidens of the Pass-
ing Hour? Were we not beauteous exceedingly,
far above mortal beauty, and what wast thou that
thou shouldst have none of us? But the Passing
Hour is passed, and its beauty hath departed, and
life is bst, and we shall see thee die in woeful
plight, we the Vultures of the Lost Past!"

But, with failing breath that came hard and
thick, he gasped, answering, ''False Fiend-
Maidens are ye— a little beauty and a long sorrow
—but my Amararddvi is pure and bright, and for
her would I die a thousand deaths, and thrice as
hard and painful as this one."

And they laughed, "Aha! the cold Moon-
Maiden, who would die for her? But in very
800th thoQ thyself wilt soon be cold enough in
death."

But he spake no other word to them, still smote
on wearily at the serpents, thinking only of his
Queen, and he had lost her by not waiting for the
Parrot-Pandit, and wondering how it could be
that this dream had led him wrong.

And now the night had come^ and the Moon
shone full upon him, and he looked up for one last
sight of his Maiden-Queen; and suddenly his eyes
were opened and his ears heard, and a still voice
down the moon-ways came to him, 'Taint not; I
have seen all thy sorrow, and all thy folly, and I
know all thy love for me. Fight on and persevere!
But heed not again false visions of me, tar the
vision that bade thee hasten on was none of mine,
but it was the youngest Kandura^ the handmaid
of the Naga king. But now call aloud thrice for
the Parrot-Pandit, and he shall bring Qiee help.
Only see that thou disob^ him not again."

Then did Chulani in penitence call three times
on the Parrot; and straightway, swift speeding
through the air, he came with willing wings, bear-
ing a precious branch of the magic tree; and full
tenderly he laid the leaves on the serpent^wounds,
spreading them gently with anxious care.

And immediately Chulani felt his strength re-
vive, and his life come back with full tide of
health; and he stood with downcast eyes before
the Parrot-Pandit^ and said : "Truly, I was a fool,
and thrice a fool for my obstinate haste; because
thou wast l<mg gone my spirit rebelled against
thee, and the false dream came, and I believed
a lie rather than thy truth. But now have I seen
my fault, and do thou, this once^ forgive."

But the Parrot-Pandit, answered: ''Thou art
but human, and thou hast but erred But now
must thou fast yet again three days, eating naught
and drinking naught save only the juice of these
three leaves that I give thee, and they shall give
thee strength. For on the fourth day thou must
go against the N&ga-sentinel, and do battle with
him alone; but if ever thy need be sore call thrice
for me, and straightway I will be with thee; but
now I must tarry here, doing the best of Sdneka."

And this time Chulani fasted patiently, heeding
no thought, nor dream, but biding penitent. And
on the fourth day he rose up long ere dawn, as
the moon sank down through the mists in the
west, and he breathed a prayer to the Moon-
Maiden to guard him well, and went forth, clench-
ing firmly quiver and shaft.

And at mid-day he came to a place where the
butterfly-pilgrims all flew circling upwards, and
a great smoke rose up to the sky, and all the treesi
were scorched and gnarled; and underneath
yawned a great depth of cavern, whence the
smoke arose, and hideous sounds of roaring and
hissing came forth from the black darkness.

And Ohulani knew that he was now come to
the abode of the Naga-sentinel, and his heart beat
high, and his breath came thick, as he peered cau-
tiously through the tree-trunks^ wondering what
it were best to do.

For he could see no sign of the monster, nor any
access; only a great cloud of smoke, and wall of
rock, and flames of fire shot forth through the
gloom from the cav^m's mouth.

And all that day he waited if by any chance he
might see the great serpent come forth, for h»
feared greatly to go into the dimness blinflfold;
but there was no sight nor portent, only the muf-
fled sound of hidden horror. And at last as the
moon rose yet again, and the weird shadows
trooped fearfully round him, he went forth des-
perate, down into the black cave's mouth, to do
or die. And he called out in a brave voice, ''Come
forth, Naga monster, and yield to me the Wish-
fulJewel!"^

Then came a flash of lurid flame from the depths
beyond, and through clouds of tawny smoke on
a wrathful coil of hooded hideousness with seven
hissing heads and darting tongues, and glinting
glamour of savage eyes, till Chulani felt the blood
run cold back to his heart which stood still for a
moment and then thumped cruelly into his very
mouth.

But small space had he for thought or dread;
for the Serpent was upon him with the seven heads
darting f earsomely raimd him, while he strove
to cover himself with his good shield, stepping
backward till his back pressed against the damp
walls of the cavern; and then he smote out his
arrows valiantly, through and through the mon-
ster's scaly hood, piercing all in vain. For the
beast reared always up again each head that
drooped, however sorely wounded, and ever came
on fresh to the charge, so that Chulani's arm grew
weary, and his heart heavy, and he knew not what
to do.

Therefore he called thrice for the Parrot-Pandit
in his sore distress, and in an instant there was a
swift cleaving of the air and the Parrot flew
straight at the monster's eyes, till soon each head
was reared helplessly, hissing vainly in blinded
rage, so that Ghulani thrust securely at him, him-
self unseen.. But still he could not slay his foe,
but each wound revived the anger and strength of
the grim Naga. United the Parrot^Pandit bade
him rub the arrowheads in the mound on the
cavern-sides, and smite again. And this time the
monster reared up once in death pangs and fell
down dead, there on the poison-stained rocks at
Chulani's feet.

And straightway from the middle head rolled
forth the Wishful Jewel, and Chulani seized it in
eager gladness, and gazed at its rare loveliness
sparkling in treble lustre of noonday suns, and
he called out, "Now, Jewel mine, bring me to
Amara-d^vi, my bright Moon-Qaeen."



And by the Restful Lake, in the whispering
sedges, among the long lake-ripples, he stood
straightway; and the Moon-Maiden wrapped
round in white beauties lay sleeping once more
amid lotuit-canopies of dreams and quietnees;
while the whist waters wondered wistfully at the
vision, and sweet breezes murmured long love-
songs around her, and the guardian stars watched
over her.

And swift with ardent joy he swam to her side,
and laid his lips to hers as she slept, whispering,
''At last, my Queen! I have slain the N&ga and
won the Wishful Jewel, and now my wish is only
thee."

And with a long sigh she turned, and her quiet
eyes opened slowly and from their deep stillness
gazed down into his soul; and no more did she
fly from him, but in surrendered trustfulness she
confessed to him all her love, and her joy-thoughts
throbbed in phosphorous gleams along the quiet
waters.

But soon, too soon, the chill breath of far-off
dawn came sighing through the lake-side trees,
and the Moon-Maiden shivered and Vbe lotus-cups
curled sorrowfully over their folded leaves, and
she kissed her brave boy-love sadly, lingeringly:

"Kurewell, mortal love; for I must go and wan-
der all day in the dull heavens, far from the Best-
ful Lake and thee, till the quiet Night shall come
again, and I with her, to thee, once more. Fare-
well, sweet, for all the weary toil of coming
day."

And she rose up slowly to climb the pale wan
moon-path with tired steps and all unwilling.

But Ghulani for stronjf love could not refrain,
but he cried out, "I will never leave thee, my
Queen! Thy way shall be my way, and thy path
my path through the long waste of heaven and
sky." And he laid hold of her train of light-
lustred robes as she arose, and they twain soared
up through the gray sky, on through the endless
realms of space.

But soon his brain grew dizzy and his eyes dark
that they could not see, and his hold slackened,
and down through the trackless ways of whirling
worlds he f ell^ falling always through long yean
of ages, far from his lost Moon-Queen, tar ever
and for ever.

And the maids of Lanka saw him fall, a falling
star through the fading night.

And never again to the Restful Lake did the
lorn Moon-Maiden come and never again did she
shine with full splendor on the hated earth, save
only on one night in every circuit of her journey-
ing—the one night on which she had known mortal love. But at all other times she mourned with
veiled face darkly, night after night shrouding
her sad pale face more and more as she wandered
farther from the land of Lanka;— only when she
turned backward in her long world-wander did
she lift her shroud by slow degrees to see again
the spot where Ghulani had wooed and won her
dreamful heart.

So in the old-world days the Moon-Maiden fell
from her high estate, loving mortal love.

And so it comes that the Tamil maidens say
when they see a falling star, "Give me a faithful
love, but not unwise." But the story of Ohulani
and of Amara-devi the Moon-Queen in her god-
days when her light was always full has been long
since forgotten by them.

But the falling stars and Ghulani fall on still,
and the faithful Moon yet mourns, true to her
short, sweet love.