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Then Bikru, or Bikramajit, took the faqir's old coat, and shaking it before the King, said, 'Take the money, my friend; and what is more, if you will set the wild swans you have in that cage at liberty, I will give you the coat into the bargain!

'Is that all? said the faqir; 'that is easily remedied. Here! take this stick of mine, and throw it twice into yonder mango tree. At the first throw five mangoes will fall, at the second two. So many sons you shall have, if you give each of your seven Queens a mango apiece. Then the King, greatly delighted, took the faqir's stick and went off to the mango tree.

Next he took some pepper and salt, spices, pounded pomegranate seeds, and pea-flour; these he mixed together into a beautiful curry-stuff, and rubbed himself all over with it right into the cuts in spite of the smarting. When he thought he was quite ready for cooking, he just went up the hill to the faqir's house, and popped into the frying-pan.

Now, if I keep the coat, I can shake it down there. To this the faqir agreed, and off went Bikru with the coat. Meanwhile, King Karan came toiling up the hill, and was surprised, when he entered the faqir's house, to find the fire out, the frying-pan put away, and the faqir himself as holy as ever, but not in the least hungry. 'Why, what is the matter? faltered the King.

He soon saw there was some secret in King Karan's endless wealth, and never rested until he had found it out. So, one day, hidden close by, he saw King Karan enter the faqir's house and pop into the boiling oil.