At the very moment when Poonguzhali, fuming with anger, stopped running and turned around, a sweet melody arose from the darkness of that forest.

“O golden-bodied one, who binds the tiger’s skin around your waist, O wearer of the radiant crescent, who adorns your shining red locks with blooming konrai flowers!”

Poonguzhali immediately recognized that voice as Senthan Amudhan’s. She burst into a peal of laughter. In that instant, she even forgot that the sound of footsteps had come from a different direction.

“Brother! Is it you?”

“Yes, Poonguzhali!”

“Where are you? Come here!”

“Here I am, I’ve come!” Saying this, Senthan Amudhan came and stood before her.

“You gave me quite a fright! Why did you follow me like this?”

“Poonguzhali! I traveled all the way from Thanjai, for many days, just to see you and to hear your sweet singing. Even after coming here, I waited all these days without seeing you! By chance, I saw you just now and ran after you. Why did you run away like that? Come, sing a song for me—let me listen!”

“What a fine place to sing; and what a fine occasion!”

“If you won’t sing, then I’ll sing another song myself. I’ll wake up all the animals sleeping in this forest and send them running, just watch!”

“Madman! O Lord who wears the crescent, O merciful one!”

“That’s enough, brother! Stop your singing for a bit!”

“Then will you sing?” Thus pleading, Senthan Amudhan immediately lowered his voice and said softly, “Poonguzhali! Someone else was following you. I sang out loud only to warn you. This evening, that man and your brother’s wife had some secret conversation. Do you know who he is?” Then again, in a loud voice, he pleaded, “What do you say! Are you going to sing? Shall I sing instead? Lord Shiva danced in the burning grounds; can’t you at least sing in this desolate forest?”

“Here, I will sing; do not be angry!” said Poonguzhali, and then she sang as follows:

“O our fluttering parrots! O our singing cuckoos! You who can reveal the sleeplessness, the slipping bangles, and the ceaseless memory of the Lord of Arur, who is the very eye of righteousness— Are you able to remind us so?”

After singing thus, in a soft voice, she asked, “Amudha! How did you know I was coming?”

“Poonguzhali! I saw a boat approaching from the top of the lighthouse. I guessed it might be you, so I came here searching for you. At the same time, some men from Pazhuvur also came this way. I did not see you in the boat. But I saw my friend Vallavaraiyan and the prince. I told Vallavaraiyan about the Pazhuvur men coming. Then, together, we carried the prince and hid him in a nearby mandapam.”

“Oh no! What a mistake you have made! What happened to the boat?”

“We overturned the boat in the canal so that no one would suspect if they saw it! Why, Poonguzhali, why did you stop your song? Sing the rest!” said Sendhan Amudhan, raising his voice for the latter part.

“I forgot, Amudha. There is a song about the lord of Kodikkarai, isn’t there? Do you remember it? If you do, sing it!”

“Oh! I remember!” said Sendhan Amudhan eagerly, and sang:

“If the swift wind brings you to the shore, Is it a fault to dwell near your home? O lord of Kodikkarai, whom my eyes have seen, Listen—who else could be your companion but me?”

As soon as the song ended, Poonguzhali softly asked, “Aththan! Has the one who was following me gone away? Or is he still hiding nearby?” “Since we have been standing here, I haven’t heard the sound of footsteps. He must be hiding somewhere close by. Do you know who he is?”

Poonguzhali replied sharply, “How could I not know? Of course I do. Didn’t Sundarar sing about the owls of Kodikkarai? Listen to this!

‘In the wild woods, as the dark night frightens the maiden, Gathered in the hollow, the owls hoot and wail, The mendicant devotees, the fierce ones, the outcasts, O Lord of Kodikkarai, you who dwell in the abode of poison!’

Did you hear that, Amudha? Even in Sundaramurthi’s time, the owls and night birds shrieked in these forests just as they do today. But now, even men in these woods cry out like owls. Just a moment ago, I heard such a voice. Do you have any idea who that wicked outcast might be?” Poonguzhali asked in a loud voice. Then, with a mischievous smile, she added, “Let me see if I can shout like that. Tell me if it sounds like an owl’s call!”

She then gave out three cries, just like an owl’s hoot. “It’s exactly like an owl’s call! Yet you sing divine hymns in a voice sweeter than honey. Where did you learn this?” asked Amudhan.

“I learned it from a magician. To make a spell work, you must know how to cry out like an owl!”

“So you know magic too?”

“I know a little. Do you want to test my magical powers?”

“How do I test them?”

“Right now, someone is hiding nearby, listening to everything we say. If you want, go and look for him!”

Even before Poonguzhali finished speaking, a rustling sound came from the forest. The magician Ravidasan emerged from his hiding place, laughing, “Ha ha ha!”

“Girl! Is that so? I thought you only knew tricks, but you know magic too?” he asked.

“You wretch! Was it you?”

“Girl! Do you know who I am?”

“You are the one who tried to kill the prince in Lanka! You failed in that attempt. So, you conjured a storm with your sorcery in the middle of the sea and made the prince and his friend drown!”

“How can you be so certain that they drowned? Did you see it with your own eyes?”

“The bodies of both men washed ashore. On the