"I was the only daughter of my sire, And cradled in his sinewy arms I grew; And when upon his warrior breast I laid My head to sleep, my mother by his side Lulled me with songs of how in days gone by The martial women of our noble race Went with their husbands by their side to fight; And one so nursed fears not the Moslem foe. But now, alas! some evil it forebodes That thou shouldst on this day go forth to fight."

And as she spoke tears trickled down his eyes, And one, a pearly drop, stole to her palm. She felt it: instantly her hand withdrew, And then began to speak in words like these: "It is not meet that Jinji's valiant prince Should like a child at this last hour shed tears And fear to meet his foe; fear not, my lord, To meet him like a soldier on the field. If thou a victor comest from the fight, We shall in joy spend our first nuptial night, But if thou comest routed from the field, I never more will see thy timid face Or think that thou art born of Kshatriya race. And if thou fallest bravely fighting, then Remember, Prince, thou hast in me a wife Who will not let thee pass from earth alone. Go forth and like a warrior meet the foe. But fear not; Runga will be on our side, So ere thou goest kiss this hand of mine Which from thine eyes that precious tear has sought." So saying, this brave Rajput girl once more To Desing offered through the screen her hand. He lifted it and reverently kissed, Then sallied forth resolved to win or die.

Fierce raged the battle, but the hapless prince Was weak to meet his foeman's myriad host; And Mamood Khan fell bravely lighting there, And with him many of his valiant men. The faithful steed that through all perils bore The prince was slain, and soon he fought on foot. But ere the foe could capture him alive, He hurled his heavy dagger, bared his breast, And instantly a lifeless corpse he fell. A few brave soldiers bore him from the field. They hastened to the castle and before The widowed Queen their precious burden laid. She, nothing daunted, orders gave at once That her attendants should prepare the pyre; And then to her assembled men thus spake: "My faithful men and my brave soldiers! you Who with my lord fought nobly on the field, I see you all weep at our hapless fate. 'Tis God has willed we thus should end our lives. But a worse fate shall surely soon befall Our cruel foe--howe'er exulting now. Weep not--there soon shall dawn another day When from the farthest end of this vast globe A race for valour and for virtue famed Shall wrest his kingdom from his ruthless hands, And everywhere your sons and your sons' sons Shall lasting peace and happiness enjoy. Be witness to the curse pronounced by me, A widowed maiden at the hour of death, Thou setting Sun and thou, O rising Moon!"

Then as a bride in all her glory decked Approaches with a gladdened heart t' embrace Th' expectant bridegroom on the nuptial bed, E'en so ascended this fair Queen the pyre, And there embracing lay by her dear lord. The fire was lighted and the pyre was closed, And speedily to ashes were reduced The lifeless husband and the living wife. The Moslem came--heard of the death she died Amid the flames, repented of his deed, And, it is said, he built a lordly town[1] In honour of the Queen, who counted it, A sin her noble husband to survive, And in a moment flung her life away.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: Ranipett.]

_THE STORY OF RUDRA_.

A deep calm sea; on the blue waters toiled, From morn till eve, the simple fishermen; And, on the beach, there stood a group of huts Before whose gates old men sat mending nets And eyed with secret joy the little boys That gaily gambolled on the sandy beach Regardless of their parents' daily toils.