He went, he went, and he knew not whither he went. On the way he saw a stream. He was weary and sat down to rest on the bank. Behold, a boy of his own age came out of the water. He came to the prince, greeted him, and said: ‘Whence comest thou? and what troubles thee?’ The prince went to him and told him all that had happened to him. His new acquaintance said: ‘I also am discontented with my lot, so let us become brothers, and live together.’ The prince agreed, and they went on their way.
They travelled on some distance, when they came to a town, and they dwelt there. When the next day dawned, his adopted brother said to the prince: ‘Stay thou at home, do not go out of doors, lest they eat thee, for such is the custom here.’ The prince promised, and from morning until night he sat indoors. The other boy was away in the town all day. At twilight, when he came home, he had a handkerchief quite full of provisions.
Several days slipped by. The prince stayed in all day, and his brother brought the food and drink. At last the prince said to himself: ‘This is shameful! My adopted brother goes out and brings in food and drink. Why do I not do something? What an idle fellow I am! I will go and do something!’
And so it happened that one day the king’s son went into the town; he wandered here and there, and in one place saw his brother, who was sitting cross-legged on the ground, at his feet was stretched a pocket handkerchief, in his hand he held a chonguri (a stringed instrument), which he played, and he chanted to it with a sweet voice. Whoever passed by placed money in the handkerchief.
The king’s son listened and listened, and said: ‘No, this must not be; this is not my business.’ So he turned and went back.
Near there he saw a tower. Outside was a wall, and on the top were arranged in rows men’s heads: some were quite shrivelled up, some had an unpleasant odour of decay, and some had just been placed there.
He looked and looked, and could not understand what it meant. He asked a man: ‘Whose tower is this, and why are men’s heads arranged in rows in this way?’ He was told: ‘In this tower dwells a maiden beautiful as the sun. Any king’s son may ask her in marriage. She asks him a question: if he cannot answer it his head is cut off, but if he can he may demand her in marriage. No one has yet been able to answer her question.’
The prince thought and thought, and said to himself: ‘I will go. I will ask this maiden in marriage: I will know if this is my fate. What is to be will be. What can she ask me that I shall not know?’ So he rose and went.
He came to the sunlike maiden and asked her in marriage. She answered: ‘It is well, but first I have a question to ask thee; if thou canst answer, then I am thine, if not, I shall cut off thy head.’ ‘So let it be,’ said the prince. ‘I ask thee this, Who are Gulambara and Sulambara?’ enquired the beautiful maiden. The king’s son said to himself: ‘I know indeed that Gulambara and Sulambara are names of flowers, but I never heard in all my life of human beings thus named.’ He asked three days grace and went away.
He went home and told his brother what had happened, and said: ‘If thou canst not help me now, in three days I shall lose my head.’ His brother reproached him, saying: ‘Did I not tell thee to stay indoors? This is a wicked town.’ But then he comforted him, saying: ‘Go now, buy a pennyworth of aromatic gum and a candle. I have a grandmother, I shall take thee to her, and she will help thee. But at the moment when my grandmother looks at us, give her the gum and the candle, or she will eat thee.’