Unhappily, the hermit was not really as holy as he seemed; for no sooner did he see the princess than he fell in love with her wonderful beauty, and began to plot in his heart how he could win her for his wife. But the maiden was not only beautiful, she was also shrewd; and as soon as she read in the glance of the jogi the love that filled his soul, she sprang to her feet, and, gathering her veil about her, ran from the place as fast as she could. The jogi tried to follow, but he was no match for her; so, beside himself with rage at finding that he could not overtake her, he flung at her a lance, which wounded her in the leg. The brave princess stooped for a second to pluck the lance out of the wound, and then ran on until she found herself safe at home again. There she bathed and bound up the wound secretly, and told no one how naughty she had been, for she knew that her father would punish her severely.
Next day, when the king went to visit the jogi, the holy man would neither speak to nor look at him.
'What is the matter?' asked the king. 'Won't you speak to me to-day?'
'I have nothing to say that you would care to hear,' answered the jogi.
'Why?' said the king. 'Surely you know that I value all that you say, whatever it may be.'
But still the jogi sat with his face turned away, and the more the king pressed him the more silent and mysterious he became. At last, after much persuasion, he said:
'Let me tell you, then, that there is in this city a creature which, if you do not put an end to it, will kill every single person in the place.'
The king, who was easily frightened, grew pale.