and Boodhu! Were they here they could save us." Their cry was immediately answered, Bhootoom and Boodhu seeming to fall from the skies to their rescue. They tied their canoes to the side of one of the gorgeous mayurpankhis, and told the boatmen to sail northwards. Thus the princes were brought into a river safe for navigation, and were saved, but their ungrateful and wicked propensities still remained, and they callously ordered their men to throw the owl and the monkey into the water.
But the princes had yet another lesson to learn. Another disaster soon befell them, the mayurpankhis with their passengers and crews sinking to the bottom of the river. Some time afterwards Bhootoom and Boodhu happened to arrive there, and the latter told the former that he suspected some calamity had happened to the princes. Bhootoom said in disgust, "Speak no more of them. Let them go to the dogs." But Boodhu reproached him. "Shame, shame, brother," he said, "that can never be. I must dive under the water and rescue them. If you are afraid to do so, you must still help me. I will tie this rope round my waist, do you hold one end of it, and remain on the land. Do not pull it until you feel a jerk." Suiting the action to the word, Boodhu gave Bhootoom the end of the rope and dived under the water. Touching the bottom he found a way downwards into the earth beneath. Pursuing it he at length reached a palace, grand though deserted. There was only one woman, about a hundred years old, in sight. She was working at a kantha, which she threw at him when she saw him. Whereupon thousands and thousands of sepoys instantaneously burst into view. They put chains upon him, carried him into the innermost recesses of the palace, and confined him in a dark room where many voices accosted him and asked help of him. These were the voices of the princes and their followers. Boodhu understood what was required of him and had recourse to a stratagem. Next day he pretended to be dead and was thrown out of the room as such.
