To this advice the king gave ear, and went to consult a very celebrated rishi, Vamadeva, intending, under his directions, to engage in such penance as might lead to the accomplishment of his wishes.

Having been well received by the holy man, he said to him:  “O father, having heard of your great piety and wisdom, I have come hither for guidance and help in a great calamity.  Manasara, King of Malwa, has overcome me, and now holds the kingdom which ought to be mine.  I will shrink from no penance which you shall advise, if by such means I may obtain the favour of the gods, and be restored to my former power.”

Vamadeva, well acquainted with all past, present, and future events, thus answered him:  “O friend, there is no need of penance in your case; only wait patiently; a son will certainly be born to you who will crush all your enemies and restore your fortunes.”  Then a voice was heard in the air, saying, “This is true.”

The king, fully believing the prophecy of the muni, thus miraculously confirmed, returned to the forest, resolved to await patiently the fulfilment of the promise; and shortly afterwards the queen brought forth a son possessing all good marks,[2] to whom his father gave the name of Rajavahana.

About the same time also sons were born to his four ministers.  They were named severally Pramati, Mitragupta, Mantragupta, and Visruta, and were brought up together with the young prince.

Some time after the birth of these children, a certain muni brought a very beautiful boy to the king, and said:  “Having gone lately into the forest to collect kusa-grass[3] and fuel, I met a woman, evidently in great distress.  When I questioned her, she wiped away her tears, and told me, with a voice broken by sobs, that she was a servant of Praharavarma, King of Mithila—­that he, with his family, had gone to Pushpapuri, to be present at the Simanta festival of the queen, and had stayed there some time after the departure of the other guests; that at that time the King of Malwa, furnished with a magic weapon, had invaded the country; that in the battle which ensued, Praharavarma had assisted his friend with the few soldiers who accompanied him, and had been taken prisoner, but had been liberated by the conqueror; that on his return he had been attacked in the forest by Bheels, and had repulsed them with difficulty.  ‘I and my daughter,’ she continued, ’who had charge of the king’s twin children, were separated from the rest in the confusion, and lost our way in the forest.  There we suddenly came upon a tiger.  In my fright, I stumbled and fell, and dropped the child, which I was carrying, on the carcase of a cow with which the tiger had been engaged.  At that moment an arrow struck and killed the tiger.  I fainted away, and when I recovered, I found myself quite alone; my daughter had disappeared, and the child, as I suppose, was carried off by the Bheels, who shot the beast.  After a time I was found by a compassionate cowherd, who took care of me till my wounds were healed; and I am now wandering about in the hope of finding the boy, and of hearing some tidings of my daughter and the other child.’  After giving me this account, she went on her way again, and I, distressed that the son of your majesty’s friend should be in such hands, determined to set out in search of him.