once upon a time a king, mourning because he was childless, spent many years fasting and praying in hopes that offspring would be granted him. one day the goddess of the sun rose out of his sacrificial fire to promise him a daughter, more beauteous than any maiden ever seen before. the king rejoiced, and, when this child was born, every one declared little savitri the prettiest maiden ever seen. as she grew up she became more and more beautiful, until all the surrounding kings longed to marry her, but dared not propose. seeing this, her father conferred upon her the right to select her own spouse, and the princess began to travel from court to court inspecting all the marriageable princes. one day, in the course of these wanderings, she paused beneath a banyan tree, where a blind old hermit had taken up his abode. he was just telling the princess that he dwelt there with his wife and son, when a young man appeared, bringing wood for the sacrifice. this youth was satyavan, his son, who was duly astonished to behold a lovely princess.

on returning home, savitri informed her father her choice was made, for she had decided to marry the hermit's son! this news appalled the king, because the prime minister assured him satyavan—although son of a banished king—was doomed to die at the end of the year.

knowing the unenviable lot of a hindu widow, the king implored savitri to choose another mate, but the girl refused, insisting she would rather live one year with satyavan than spend a long life with any one else!

but savitri replied:

"once falls a heritage; once a maid yields

her maidenhood; once doth a father say,

'choose, i abide thy choice.' these three things done,

are done forever. be my prince to live

a year, or many years; be he so great

as narada hath said, or less than this;

once have i chosen him, and choose not twice:

my heart resolved, my mouth hath spoken it,

my hand shall execute;—this is my mind!"

—edwin arnold.

so the marriage took place, and, because the hermit and his son had vowed to remain in the jungle until reinstated in their realm, the princess dwelt in their humble hut, laying aside her princely garments and wearing the rough clothes hermits affect.

in spite of poverty, this little family dwelt happily beneath the huge banyan tree, the princess rigidly keeping the secret that her husband had but a year to live. time passed all too swiftly, however, and as the year drew toward an end the little wife grew strangely pale and still, fasted constantly, and spent most of her time praying that the doom of death might be averted. when the fatal day drew near, she was so weak and faint she could hardly stand; but, when satyavan announced he was going out into the forest to cut wood, she begged to accompany him, although he objected the way was far too rough and hard for her tender feet. by dint of coaxing, however, savitri obtained his consent; so hand in hand she passed with her husband through the tropical woods.

while satyavan was felling a tree, he suddenly reeled and fell at her feet, fainting. in a moment savitri was bending over him, holding his head in her lap and eagerly trying to recall life in his veins. while doing so, she suddenly became aware of yama, god of death, with blood-red clothes, cruel eyes, and the long black noose, with which he snares the soul and draws it out of the body. in spite of savitri's pleading, he now drew out satyavan's soul and started off with his prize, leaving the youthful body pale and cold on the ground.

with that the gloomy god fitted his noose,

and forced forth from the prince the soul of him—

subtile, a thumb in length—which being reft,

breath stayed, blood stopped, the body's grace was gone,

and all life's warmth to stony coldness turned.

then, binding it, the silent presence bore

satyavan's soul away toward the south.

—edwin arnold.

but the little wife, instead of staying with the corpse, followed yama, imploring him not to bear off her husband's soul! turning around, yama sternly bade her go back, as no human mortal could tread the road he was following, and reminding her that it was her duty to perform her husband's funeral rites. she, however, insisting that wherever satyavan's soul went she would go too, painfully followed the king of death, until in pity he promised to grant her anything she wished, save her husband's soul. thereupon savitri begged that her blind father-in-law might recover sight and kingdom, boons which yama immediately granted, telling savitri to go and inform her father-in-law so, for the way he had to tread was long and dark.

weak and weary as she was, savitri nevertheless persisted in following yama, until he again turned, declaring he would grant any boon, save her husband's life, to comfort her. the little wife now begged her father might have princely sons, knowing he had long desired an heir. this favor, too, was granted, before yama bade her go back to light and life; but savitri still insisted that was impossible, and that as long as she lived she must follow her beloved!

darkness now settled down on the forest, and although the road was rough and thorny savitri stumbled on and on, following the sound of yama's footsteps although she could no longer see him. finally he turned into a gloomy cavern, but she plodded on, until she so excited his compassion that he promised her one more boon, again stipulating it should not be the soul he held in his hand. when savitri begged for children,—sons of satyavan,—yama smiled and granted her prayer, thinking he would now surely be rid of her at last. but savitri followed him on into the depths of the cavern, although owls and bats made the place hideous with their cries. hearing her footsteps still behind him, yama tried to frighten her away, but she, grasping the hand which held her husband's soul, laid her tear-wet cheek against it, thereby so touching the god's heart that he exclaimed, "ask anything thou wilt and it shall be thine."

noticing this time that he made no reservation, savitri joyfully exclaimed she wished neither wealth nor power, but only her beloved spouse! conquered by such devotion, death relinquished into her keeping satyavan's soul, and promised they should live happy together and have many sons.

after securing this inestimable boon, savitri hastened out of the cave and back into the woods, where she found the lifeless corpse of her husband just where she had left it, and proceeded to woo it back to life. before long warmth and consciousness returned to satyavan, who went home with savitri, with whom he lived happy ever after, for all the boons yama had promised were duly granted.

"adieu, great god!" she took the soul,

no bigger than the human thumb,

and running swift, soon reached her goal,

where lay the body stark and dumb.

she lifted it with eager hands

and as before, when he expired,

she placed the head upon the bands

that bound her breast, which hope new fired,

and which alternate rose and fell;

then placed his soul upon his heart,

whence like a bee it found its cell,

and lo, he woke with sudden start!

his breath came low at first, then deep,

with an unquiet look he gazed,

as one awakening from a sleep,

wholly bewildered and amazed.

—miss toru dutt.