“Into this basket will I pour the barley,” said Mahaushadha.
“That basket contains a treasure of mine,” said the Brahman’s wife. “How can barley be put into it?”
“Set aside the treasure in some pot,” said the husband, “then we can pour the barley in here.”
Mahaushadha also said, “In order that the mice may not render the barley useless, it must be poured in here.”
Then said the Brahman’s wife, who became terrified at the thought of the consequences, “The basket is damp; the barley will get spoilt inside it.”
“You need not be uneasy,” replied Mahaushadha to the Brahman’s wife. “I will take care that no dampness remains in it, and that the barley is not spoilt.”
Then he stood up, reversed his gazelle skin, and tied the string of sacrifice twice round his neck. Then he went out to fetch wood and water, with the intention of cleansing the basket.
The Brahman’s wife, experiencing the pain of parting from her lover, and fearing that he would be killed, sent a messenger with all speed to his house, in order that, things being so, some one might come from thence immediately. As soon as his father heard the news, he came to Mahaushadha and said, “I want to purchase this basket.”
“Be of good cheer and take it,” was the reply.
“On what terms?”