And as they spoke they bent low their heads, and pointed their horns at him, to forbid him the entrance.
The minister, however, had no mind to try the issue, but rather seized with a great panic he turned him and fled without so much as heeding whither his steps led him. Thus running he chanced to come with his head at full butt against the magnanimous King Vikramâditja, just then taking his walk abroad.
“How now, evil man?” exclaimed the magnanimous King. “Whence comest thou, fleeing as from an evil conscience?”
Then the minister prostrated himself before him, and told him all he had learnt from the two he-goats sculptured in stone, concerning Naran-Dâkinî.
When Vikramâditja had heard the story, he commanded that the evil minister should be guarded, to see whether the event proved that he had spoken the truth; but, taking with him Schalû and three far-sighted and experienced ministers, he went on till he came to the cave and saw the two he-goats sculptured in stone standing over the portal. The he-goats would have made the same discourse to him as to the evil minister, but he commanded them silence. Then he transformed Schalû into an aramâlâ[4] in his hand, but the three ministers into the altar that stood before the Dâkinî, and the lamp that burned thereon, and the granite vessel for burning incense placed at the foot of the same[5]; laying this charge upon them: “I will come in,” said he, “as though a wayfarer who knew you not, and sitting down I will tell a saga of olden time. Then all of you four give an interpretation of my saga quite perverse from the real meaning, and if the Dâkinî be prudent and full of understanding she will open her lips to speak to vindicate the right meaning of the story.”
Presently, therefore, after he had completed the transformation of Schalû and the three far-seeing and experienced ministers, and having himself assumed the appearance of a king on his travels, he entered the cave and sat down over against the altar which stood before the Dâkinî Naran, the Silent Haughty One, sunk in deep contemplation. Then said he, “In that it was told me in this place dwells the all-fair Tegrijin Naran-Dâkinî, I, who am King of Gambudvîpa, am come hither to visit her;” and as he spoke he looked furtively up towards the Dâkinî, to see whether he had moved her to open her lips to speak.
But the all-beauteous Naran-Dâkinî, the Silent Haughty One, sat still and gave forth no sign.
Then spoke the King again, saying, “On occasion of this my coming, O Naran-Dâkinî, tell thou me one of the sagas of old; or else, if thou prefer to hold thy peace, then will I tell one to thee!”
Again he looked up, but Naran-Dâkinî Tegrijin, the Silent Haughty One, sat sunk in deep contemplation and gave forth no sign.
As the King paused, one of the far-seeing and experienced ministers, even the one whom he had transformed into the altar that stood before the Dâkinî, spoke, saying,—