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 100 money nor clothes on the journey. He then charged the nine hundred and ninety-eight parrots he left behind him to bring her plenty of corn and rice daily (that she might never need food while he was away), and took her to the house of her father, in whose care she was to remain during his absence; and he wished her good-bye, saying, ' Do not fear but that I will come back to you, even if I do win the Panch-Phul Ranee, for you will always be my first wife, though you are the Carpenter's daughter.'

The old parrot and another parrot then spread their wings, on which the Rajah seated himself as on a chair, and rising up in the air, they flew away with him out of sight.

Far, far, far, they flew, as fast as parrots can fly, over hills, over forests, over rivers, over valleys, on, on, on, hour after hour, day after day, week after week, only staying to rest every night when it got too dark to see where they were going. At last they reached the seven seas which surrounded the Panch-Phul Ranee's country. When once they began crossing the seas they could not rest (for there was neither rock nor island on which to alight), so they were obliged to fly straight across them, night and day, until they gained the shore.

By reason of this, the parrots were too exhausted on their arrival to go as far as the city where the Rajah, Panch-Phul Ranee's father, lived, but they flew down to rest on a beautiful banyan-tree, which grew not far from the sea, close to a small village. The Rajah determined to go into the village, and get food and shelter there. He told the parrots to stay in the banyan-tree till his return; then, leaving his bundle of clothes, and most of his money in their charge, he set off on foot towards the nearest house.

After a little while he reached a Malee's cottage, and, giving a gold mohur to the Malee's wife, got her to provide him with food and shelter for the night.

Next morning he rose early, and said to his hostess,—'I am a stranger here, and know nothing of the place. What is the name of your country?'

'This,' she said, 'is Panch-Phul Ranee's country.'

'And what is the last news in your village?' he asked.

'Very bad news indeed,' she replied. 'You must know, our Rajah has one only daughter—a most beautiful Princess—and her name is Panch-Phul Ranee; for she is so light and delicate, that she weighs no heavier than five lotus flowers. After her this