And while he was crouching unobserved in a corner of that cow-house, Kálarátri came into it with a drawn sword in her hand, [313] terrible from the hissing she uttered, with wind and flames issuing from her mouth and eyes, accompanied by a crowd of witches. Then the terrified Sundaraka, beholding Kálarátri arriving in such a guise, called to mind the spells that drive away Rákshasas, and bewildered by these spells Kálarátri did not see him crouching secretly in a corner, with his limbs drawn together from fear. Then Kálarátri with her friends recited the spells that enable witches to fly, and they flew up into the air, cow-house and all. And Sundaraka heard the spell and remembered it; [314] but Kálarátri with the cow-house quickly flew through the air to Ujjayiní: there she made it descend by a spell in a garden of herbs, and went and sported in the cemetery among the witches: and immediately Sundaraka being hungry went down into the garden of herbs, and made a meal on some roots which he dug up, and after he had allayed the pangs of hunger, and returned as before to the cow-house, Kálarátri came back in the middle of the night from her meeting. Then she got up into the cow-house, and, just as before, she flew through the air with her pupils by the power of her magic, and returned home in the night. And after she had replaced the cow-house, which she made use of as a vehicle, in its original situation, and had dismissed those followers of hers, she entered her sleeping apartment. And Sundaraka, having thus passed through that night, astonished at the troubles he had undergone, in the morning left the cow-house and went to his friends; there he related what had happened to him, and, though desirous of going to some other country, he was comforted by those friends and took up his abode among them, and leaving the dwelling of his teacher, and taking his meals in the almshouse for Bráhmans, he lived there enjoying himself at will in the society of his friends. One day Kálarátri, having gone out to buy some necessaries for her house, saw Sundaraka in the market. And being once more love-sick, she went up to him and said to him a second time--"Sundaraka, shew me affection even now, for my life depends on you." When she said this to him, the virtuous Sundaraka said to her, "Do not speak thus, it is not right; you are my mother, as being the wife of my teacher." Then Kálarátri said; "If you know what is right, then grant me my life, for what righteousness is greater than the saving of life?" Then Sundaraka said--"Mother, do not entertain this wish, for what righteousness can there be in approaching the bed of my preceptor." Thus repulsed by him, and threatening him in her wrath, she went home, after tearing her upper garment with her own hand, and shewing the garment to her husband, she said to him, "Look, Sundaraka ran upon me, and tore this garment of mine in this fashion;" so her husband went in his anger