Kamla was now convinced that someone had deceived and abducted Kishori. She did not linger long in that garden; already equipped with her ayyari tools, she took a lantern in her hand and set out from there. Exiting the garden, she began to circle around, searching for any sign that might reveal what conveyance had carried Kishori away. But until she reached the mango orchard, she found no trace on the ground save for footprints.

It was the rainy season, and the earth was thoroughly damp. Thus, by carefully searching the mango orchard, Kamla discovered that Kishori had departed in a chariot, accompanied by several riders. The double track of the chariot wheels and the hoofprints of the oxen were clearly visible on the ground, as were the marks of horses' hooves.

Kamla followed the tracks for several steps in the direction the chariot had gone, and very soon she was able to determine which way those who had taken Kishori had gone. After this, she turned back and went straight to the stables, where she ordered a swift horse to be saddled and readied at once.

Kamla's command was not one to be refused. The horse was quickly prepared, and Kamla mounted it, setting off at speed in the direction she was now certain Kishori had been taken by chariot.

After traveling for about five kos, Kamla reached a crossroads. The road to the left led to Chunar, the road to the right passed through Rewa and reached Garyaji, and the road straight ahead plunged into a fearsome forest, branching off in several directions.

At this four-way junction, Kamla halted and began to ponder: Which way should I go? If those from Chunar had taken Kishori, they would have gone by the left road. And if her enemy Madhavi had ensnared her, then the chariot would have gone right, toward Garyaji. No one would likely take the road straight ahead, for it was a treacherous, rocky path through the jungle.

The moon had risen, and its light now spread brightly over the land. Kamla dismounted and began to search the ground to the right for the imprint of the chariot wheels, but...

She could not make out anything; helpless, she mounted her horse, pondering which way to go, what to do.

As we have written earlier, when Kishori realized, while riding in the chariot, that she had been deceived, several words escaped her lips which, upon hearing, made the fake Kamla alert. She leapt from the chariot, mounted a horse, and rode back the way she had come.

The returning fake Kamla, galloping her horse, reached that very crossroads at the precise moment when the real Kamla, having arrived there, was wondering which way to go, what to do.

The real Kamla, seeing a rider approaching swiftly from the front, called out for her to halt, but why would she stop? The fake Kamla needed to turn onto the road to the right of the real Kamla, so she was forced to slow her horse's pace.

When the real Kamla saw that the approaching rider did not stop despite her challenge and instead wished to take the right-hand road, she quickly drew a double-barreled pistol from her waist and fired at the horse. The bullet struck, and the horse, carrying the fake Kamla, crashed to the ground. Yet, as soon as the horse fell, the fake Kamla swiftly regained her composure, stood up, and drew her own double-barreled pistol, firing at the real Kamla.

The real Kamla was already prepared; she dodged the shot, and then a second bullet came, but that too missed its mark. Frustrated, the fake Kamla intended to reload her pistol, but the real Kamla did not give her the chance. Seeing both her shots wasted, the fake Kamla realized her pistol was now empty. Holding the pistol in her hand, she quickly approached the real Kamla and, challenging her, said, "Beware! Don't even think of reloading your pistol. See, my pistol still has another bullet left!"

The fake Kamla, realizing she could do nothing to harm her enemy now—her own pistol's bullets spent and her horse dead—stood silently, resigned.

Both women had daggers at their waists besides the pistols, but there was no need for them.

The real Kamla challenged, "Tell the truth—who are you?"

The fake Kamla would have sooner given her life than reveal her identity with her own lips. Seeing this, the real Kamla struck her with such a lash of her whip that the fake Kamla could not keep her balance and fell to the ground. Before she could recover her senses and rise, the real Kamla leapt from her horse and was upon her chest in an instant.

The real Kamla forcibly stuffed a dose of a stupefying drug into her nostrils, and when the fake Kamla lost consciousness, Kamla rose from her chest and stood aside.

When the real Kamla had mounted her chest, she saw before her a face identical to her own...

She realized, therefore, that this must be some ayyar or ayyara, and besides, from the accounts of Kishori's companions, she had already learned that someone with her own appearance had taken Kishori away. Now she was certain that it was this person who had deceived Kishori.

After a little while, Kamla took a small water-filled bottle from her pouch and washed the face of the false Kamla clean. Then, striking a spark from her flint, she lit a wick to try and recognize who it was, but even without doing so, by the light of the moon alone, she recognized her as Lalita, companion of Madhavi. For Kamla knew her well, having lived together for years and often mingled with her.

Kamla was now convinced that it was indeed Lalita who had deceived and carried off Kishori, but she was still puzzled as to why Lalita appeared to be returning from the opposite direction. Kamla also knew that, even at the cost of her