Now it was so that Prince Vikramâditja, having seen the encampment of the merchants, was lurking in the thicket, to exercise his prowess in robbing them. Thus when he overheard how Schalû expounded all that the wolves said, he thought within himself, “This is no ordinary youth. That torrents of rain are about to fall might be a guess, even though the sky presents no indication of a coming storm; but how could he guess that I was prowling about to rob the caravan? this, at least, shows he has command of some sort of supernatural knowledge.” Determining therefore to discover some means of possessing himself of the boy, he went away for that night, because the merchants having been warned by the wolves of his designs, they would be on the watch to take him had he attempted an attack.
The merchants, meantime, believing the words of the wolves expounded to them by Schalû, removed their encampment to a high hill, out of the way of chances of damage by inundation. When night had fallen thick around, the rain began to fall in heavy torrents, and the river overflowed its banks, making particular havock of the very spot on which their tent had been pitched. When the merchants in the morning saw this part of the plain all under water, and the floods pouring over it, they said one to another, “Without Schalû’s aid we had certainly all been washed away[6],” and out of gratitude they loaded him with rich presents.
At the end of the next day’s journey they selected the dry bank of a small tributary of the river for their camping-place. Prince Vikramâditja, who, in pursuance of his determination of overnight, had watched their movements from afar, drew near, under cover of the shades of evening, and set himself once more to overhear what Schalû might have to say. By-and-by two wolves approached, and began howling. Then the merchants asked Schalû, saying, “What do the wolves say?” And Schalû answered, “These are the wolves who have been to me from my birth up in the place of parents, and they say, ‘Behold, we have watched over thee ever since thou wast born, and made thee brave and strong, nevertheless, unmindful of our aid, thou hast forsaken us, and betaken thyself to men, who are our enemies. This is the last time that we can come after thee[7]; but of our affection we give thee this counsel: sleep not this night, for there is a robber again lurking about the camp. Early in the morning also, if thou goest out to the banks of the stream, thou shalt find a dead body brought down by the waters; fish it out, and cut it open, for in the right thigh is enclosed the jewel Tschin-tâmani[8], and whoso is in possession of this talisman, has only to desire it, and he will become a mighty King, ruler of the four parts of the earth.’”
When Vikramâditja had heard these words, he gave up his marauding intention for that night also, his victims having been set upon their guard. But he was satisfied with the prospect of having the talisman for his booty. Going higher up the stream, therefore, he fished out the dead body as it floated down before it came to the merchants’ encampment, opened the thigh, and took out the jewel, and then committed it to the waters again, so that when the merchants and Schalû took it, they found the treasure was gone. But he thought within himself the while, “This Schalû is no common boy; some pretext I must find to possess myself of him before the caravan leaves the neighbourhood.”
The next morning, therefore, before they struck their tents, he came to them in the disguise of a travelling merchant, he also bringing with him stuffs and other objects of barter, on which he had set a private mark. While pretending to trade, he contrived to pick a quarrel, as also to leave some of his wares unperceived hidden in one of the tents. Then he went to King Kütschün-Tschidaktschi, and laid this complaint before him:—
“Behold, O King, I was engaged in trading with a company of five hundred merchants who are encamped outside this city, but a dispute arising, they fell upon me, and used me contumeliously, and drove me forth from among them, and, what is worst of all, they have retained among them the half of my stuffs.”
In answer to this complaint, the King sent two officers of the court, and an escort of two hundred fighting-men, with instructions to investigate the matter, and if they found that the five hundred merchants had really stolen the stuffs, to put them all to the edge of the sword; but if they found this was not the case, then to bring Vikramâditja to him for judgment.
Then Vikramâditja once more prostrated himself before the King, and said, “Upon all my things have I set a mark (so and so), whereby they may be recognized, so that clearly may it be established whether they have my stuffs in possession or not.”
When the King’s envoys came to the encampment of the five hundred merchants, they arraigned them, saying—
“Young Vikramâditja lays this complaint against ye before the King, namely, that you have used him shamefully, driving him away from you contumeliously, and laying violent hands on his stuffs, wherewith he sought to trade with you. Know therefore that the command of our all-powerful King is, that if the stuffs of Vikramâditja are found in your tents, you be all put to the edge of the sword.” And the merchants answered cheerfully, “Come in and search our tents, for we have no man’s goods with us, saving only our own.”