'My General,' said the King, 'thou shalt not perish for me. Fly! I can go no farther. Fly! I bid thee, and take counsel with the Goose that Crest-jewel, my son, be named King!' 'Good my Lord,' replied the Paddy-bird, 'speak not thus! Let your Majesty reign victorious while the sun and moon endure. I am governor of your Majesty's fortress, and if the enemy enter it he shall but do so over my body; let me die for thee, my Master!-- 'Gentle, generous, and discerning; such a Prince the Gods do give!' 'That shalt thou not,' replied the Rajah-- 'Skilful, honest, and true-hearted; where doth such a Vassal live?' 'Nay! my royal Lord, escape!' cried the Paddy-bird; a king's life is the life of his people-- 'The people are the lotus-leaves, their monarch is the sun-- When he doth sink beneath the waves they vanish every one. When he doth rise they rise again with bud and blossom rife, To bask awhile in his warm smile, who is their lord and life.' 'Think no more of me.' At this instant the Cock rushing forward, inflicted a wound with his sharp spurs on the person of the King; but the Paddy-bird sprang in front of him, and receiving on his body the blows designed for the Rajah, forced him away into the pool. Then turning upon the Cock, he despatched him with a shower of blows from his long bill; and finally succumbed, fighting in the midst of his enemies. Thus the King of the Peacocks captured the fortress; and marched home with all the treasure in it, amid songs of victory. Then spake the Princes: "In that army of the Swans there was no soldier like the Paddy-bird, who gave his own life for the King's." "There be nowhere many such," replied Vishnu-Sarman; "for 'All the cows bring forth are cattle--only now and then is born An authentic lord of pastures, with his shoulder-scratching horn.'[20] "It is well spoken," said the Princes. "But for him that dares to die so," added the Sage, "may an eternal heaven be reserved, and may the lustrous Angels of Paradise, the Apsaras, conduct him thither! Is it not so declared, indeed?-- 'When the soldier in the battle lays his life down for his king, Unto Swerga's perfect glory such a deed his soul shall bring.' "It is so declared," said the Rajah's sons. "And now, my Princes," concluded Vishnu-Sarman, "you have listened to 'War.'" "We have listened, and are gratified," replied the sons of the King. "Let me end then," said their Preceptor, "with this-- 'If the clouds of Battle lower When ye come into your power, Durga grant the foes that dare you Bring no elephants to scare you; Nor the thunderous rush of horses, Nor the footmen's steel-fringed forces: But overblown by Policy's strong breath, Hide they in caverns from the avenging death.'