So the rajah marvelled and thought, while he rejoiced in the matchless skill of the misshapen charioteer. Swiftly they went. Over hills and rivers and over forests and lakes the chariot glided like to a bird through the air.... Of a sudden the rajah's robe was swept away, and he cried to the charioteer, saying: “Stop at instant, so that Varshneya may hasten back and recover my garment.” Nala paused not, and said: “Thy robe is now five miles behind us, and we cannot wait to recover it.” So they went on with all speed. Ere long Rituparna beheld a lofty fruit tree, named Vibhítak, and he said to Vahuka: “Now, skilful charioteer, thou shalt perceive my ability in numbers. No single mind is accomplished in every kind of knowledge. On two branches of yonder fruit tree are fifty million leaves and two thousand and ninety-five berries.” Vahuka said: “The leaves and the fruit are invisible to me. But I will tear off a branch and count the berries while Varshneya doth hold the bridle.” “But,” urged the rajah, “we cannot pause on our journey.” Vahuka said: “Thou mayst stay with me, or thou canst let Varshneya drive thee at full speed.” Then the rajah spoke soothingly, saying: “O matchless charioteer! I cannot go on without thee to Vidarbha. I trust in thee. If thou wilt promise that we will reach the city ere night falls, I will do even as you desire.” The transformed Nala made answer: “I will indeed make haste when I have counted the berries.” So the horses were drawn up, and Nala tore a branch from the tree. Having counted the berries, he found they were in number even as the rajah had said, and he exclaimed: “Wonderful, indeed, is thy power, O Rituparna! Fain would I know thy secret.” Now the rajah was eager to proceed on his way, and he said: “I know the secret of the dice, and am therefore skilled in numbers.” “Then,” said Nala, “if thou wilt impart to me thy secret, I will give thee knowledge in steeds.” Rituparna made answer thereat: “So be it;” and he forthwith informed the charioteer in the science of dice. Now when Nala grew skilful in dice, Kali immediately passed out of his body, and Nishadha's fallen king vomited forth the serpent poison and was made weak with the struggle. Released from the venom, Kali resumed his wonted form, but he was beheld by Nala alone, who sought to curse him. In his terror, the evil demon folded his hands and said: “Do not injure me, O king, and I will give thee matchless fame.... Know thou that Damayantí cursed me heavily in her wrath when thou didst desert her in the forest, and I have ever since endured great agony. Night and day, too, have I been scorched by the poison of the king of serpents.... Now I seek thy pity. I come to thee that thou mayst be my refuge. Lo! I promise, if thou wilt not curse me, that he who henceforth faileth not to praise thee, will have no dread of me in his heart.”