There are moments when a single second can seem like an entire age. One such moment now befell Vanathi. With her eyes tightly shut, praying fervently to Durga Parameswari, she spun along in the thatched-roof boat for what could only have been a few seconds. Yet, to her, those moments stretched into endless eons.

Then, a sudden, violent jolt shook her entire body, snapping her eyes open. She realized that the shock had come because the roofed boat had crashed against the roots of a tree on the riverbank. By a stroke of fortune, as the thatched roof splintered and broke apart, half of Vanathi’s body became entangled in the bent branches of the tree. Thus, she escaped being dashed against the roots.

Becoming aware of her situation, she clung tightly to the branches. The swirling floodwaters seized her legs and pulled at them with such force that it seemed as if they would be torn from her body. Even her sari was being tugged by the current, as if the river itself was trying to drag her away.

But at that perilous moment, a strange courage and determination welled up within Vanathi from somewhere deep inside. Gritting her teeth, she summoned all her strength, leapt, and climbed up onto the branch. She found a secure spot on a thick limb that forked into two, and sat there firmly. She twisted the ends of her sari and wrung out the water.

Just then, she heard the sudden splash of water below. The memory of the crocodile she had glimpsed before closing her eyes flashed into her mind. Leaning down, she peered all around. At first, she saw only the crocodile’s tail thrashing the water. Most of its body was still hidden beneath the broken, scattered pieces of the thatched roof she had climbed from. Slowly, using its tail and writhing its body, the crocodile freed itself from the debris. Once it emerged, it opened its jaws wide, as if to express its delight. Looking up at Vanathi, it seemed to say, “Come, come! One way or another, you must fall into my jaws!”

Vanathi, too, felt a surge of exhilaration at the thought of her narrow escape. “Oh ho! Is that what you say? You think you can swallow me whole? Crocodile! Your tricks—your tail and your teeth—will not prevail against me! You may bare your fangs, but—” “It is of no use to show you. Don’t rely on me to satisfy your hunger! Go look for someone else!” said Vanathi to the crocodile. Hearing her voice, the crocodile fixed its two terrifying eyes upon her and began to stare intently.

Vanathi said, “Oh dear! It seems your curse has not left you yet!” With that, she looked all around her. Her situation seemed rather alarming. On the water’s side, the branches of the great tree bent low, almost touching the river. But on the bank’s side, there were no such low-hanging branches to be seen. If she tried to descend by the trunk, the crocodile waited below, lurking among the tangled roots. If she leapt from the branches that hung over the river, the swirling eddies of the deep pool were ready to seize her and drag her down to the underworld. Even gazing for a moment at that great whirlpool made her head spin.

“Even if the branches on the bank’s side are high, it doesn’t matter; somehow, I can jump and manage,” she thought. Resolving to cross over by walking along the branches, she tried to rise.

But her lower body had been immersed in water for so long that her legs had gone numb with cold. When she tried to stand, her legs trembled uncontrollably. “Tch, tch! What’s wrong with you, legs?” she said, and sat down again. Who had more patience—the crocodile or herself? It seemed she would have to find out!

At that moment, the trumpeting roar of Gajendran startled Vanathi. The elephant, which had just crossed the river and gone up the bank toward the west, was now returning. At the same time, she noticed a boat approaching along the riverbank. There were two people in the boat. Yes, yes; one of them was the astrologer’s disciple, and the other was Poonguzhali! In the end, was it Poonguzhali who had to come to rescue her and take her away?

The boat came beneath the tree. Poonguzhali looked up and saw Vanathi sitting on the branch. Smiling, she called out, “Princess! You’ve found a fine place to hide. Come down quickly! Do you know who is coming on that elephant?”

A sudden realization dawned in Vanathi’s heart. Still, to confirm it, she asked, “I don’t know. Who?”

“The very person you set out in search of—him! The Prince himself!” said Poonguzhali.

Vanathi, with unrestrained astonishment, gazed for several moments at the person approaching atop the elephant. Only as he drew near did it strike her how utterly improper it was for her to be seated upon a tree branch. She realized that, as per Poonguzhali’s suggestion, she ought to descend into the boat. She glanced down. At that moment, she saw that the boat, swept by the force of the floodwaters, was drifting away from beneath the tree and could not remain in place. She also saw Poonguzhali leap into the water, unwilling to let the boat go without her.

Oh no, what is this? Did that woman not notice the fearsome crocodile lying nearby? In a single instant, nine thousand anxious thoughts surged and boiled within Vanathi’s heart. Disjointed, stammering words tumbled from her lips.

“Crocodile!”—that alone reached Poonguzhali’s ears. She turned to look. Yes; not far from her, a monstrous crocodile was opening its jaws wide. As Poonguzhali turned, the crocodile raised its tail and slapped it upon the water.

Poonguzhali was indeed courageous! She had faced countless dangers before. But what use is mere courage before a crocodile, its jaws agape, just ten feet away? One wrong move meant death! If