Vandiyathevan and Azhwarkadiyan rose eagerly and sat down on the floor beside the prince’s cot. The prince began to speak as follows:

“When I was a small boy, there was an occasion when I was traveling with my parents in a boat on the Kaveri river. My elder brother and my sister were also in the boat at that time. They were engaged in conversation about something or other. I alone was watching the swirling flow of the Kaveri’s waters, and how, now and then, some kadamba flowers would get caught in those eddies and spin around. Seeing those tiny flowers trapped and struggling in the whirls caused me pain. Sometimes, I would lean over the side of the boat and rescue the struggling kadamba flowers from the water’s grip. On one such occasion, as I was reaching out, I lost my balance and fell into the river. Since I fell headfirst, I was completely disoriented and floundered helplessly!

“I still remember the sensation of my head striking the sandy bottom of the Kaveri. Then I recall the swift current pushing and dragging me along. From somewhere far away, I seemed to hear the shouts and cries of many people. I began to suffocate. I thought, ‘Well, the Kaveri river is going to carry me away and cast me into the sea.’ The thought struck me of how much pain my parents, my sister, and my brother would feel if they could not find me. At that moment, it felt as if someone scooped me up with both arms and embraced me. In the next instant, I surfaced above the water. Water was streaming from my head, eyes, nose, and mouth. Yet, I could clearly see the hands that had lifted and saved me. Then I saw the face of the one to whom those hands belonged. Though it was only for a few moments, that face became imprinted in my mind. It seemed as though I had seen that face somewhere before. But I could not tell who it was.

“After that, those hands handed me over to someone else. In the next moment, I was back in the boat. My mother, father, sister, and brother all surrounded me. Their sorrow, their concern, their love, and their support completely absorbed my attention. Only after a little while did the question arise—who was it that had lifted me out of the water and saved me? They asked one another; they asked me as well. I looked all around. That divine face was nowhere to be seen. So, unable to answer their question, I remained silent. In the end, everyone agreed that it must have been Kaveri Amman herself who saved me. They resolved that I must have been saved. From the day I survived falling into the river, every year they arranged for a special puja to Kaveri Amman. Yet, only my mind remained unsatisfied. Whether it was truly Kaveri Amman who saved me, or some other mortal woman, the face of that savior had been etched into my heart, and a longing to behold that divine visage once more took root within me. Whenever I went near the banks of the Kaveri, I would look around with the hope, “Will that goddess suddenly rise from the waters and appear before me?” As the days passed, the thought grew stronger in me that she might have been a mortal woman after all. Therefore, whenever I attended any festival, it became my habit to closely observe the faces of all the elderly women gathered there, searching with keen interest. After some time, I realized that such searching was not a good habit. As the years went by, I gradually lost the desire to see that divine face again.

“About a year ago, I came here as the commander of our southern forces. Even before that, Senapathi Boothi Vikrama Kesari had captured many regions of Lanka. This Anuradhapura had changed hands several times, and at that time, it was again under the control of Mahindan’s forces. Our soldiers had laid siege to the city. While the siege was ongoing, I wished to travel and learn about various parts of Lanka. The Senapathi sent a thousand chosen warriors with me. We traveled to all the regions under our army’s control, leaving no forest, hill, or river unexplored, and I became well acquainted with the nature of each region. You must know that, surrounding the island of Lanka, there are many small islets in the sea. I visited those islands as well.

During these travels, once, to the north of this city, we camped in the midst of a forest, several leagues away. Near our camp was a place called ‘Yaanai Iravu’—the Elephant Crossing. There, the eastern and western seas of Lanka come very close and join through a narrow canal. Through that crossing, herds of elephants sometimes travel to the northern parts of Lanka. That is how the place got its name, ‘Yaanai Iravu.’ While we were camped there, a strange incident occurred. At night, near the camp, a wailing voice was heard. At first, it was unclear whether it was the voice of a human, a bird, or a beast; but it carried a sorrow so deep that it sent shivers through those who heard it.

At first, the soldiers stationed at the edge of the camp heard it. They ignored it. Later, the sound was heard in several places around the encampment. Some came and told me about it. I paid it no mind. ‘Are you afraid of ghosts and spirits? If so, return home and rest in your mother’s lap—’ “Sleep without fear!” I said. This seemed to anger them.

They resolved to find out whether that wailing voice was human, animal, or some spirit. They ran towards the direction from which the cry had come and looked around. As they drew near, the figure responsible for the voice began to run. It appeared to be a woman’s form. But