THER “ FOLKLORE OF INDIAN PLANTS.’ 63 
i Sienna ene a etemine wii Base ree Sasi ceese str eOn nT oe NSN OR ener NT 
the peripatetic Narad. To return to the story. The door of the 
chamber was at last opened to the repeated entreaties of the 
knocker outside. On entry there was a scene, and on explanation of 
the cause of anger, followed by apologies, coupled with much persua- 
sion on the part of Krishna, Satyabhima was at once promised, not 
only a flower of the tree, but the whole tree itself. The tree (root 
stem, and branches all) was bodily transferred from Satyaloka by a 
messenger specially sent there to the garden of Satyabhama. But 
the story would not be complete if I did not tell you the sequel of it. 
Satyabhima, full of pride, gathered therefrom a few flowers and sent 
them in a golden case. as a present to Rukmini, her rival in love, 
through her ladies-in-waiting. Itso happened that Krishna having 
originally presented the flower to Rukmini, the Winds of the air had 
known the first bent of his mind, and had accordingly daily wafted 
abundance of Pdérijétak flowers from the garden of Satyabhim’ into 
the garden of her rival Rukmini, so that when Satyabhami’s ladies-in- 
waiting arrived at Rukmini’s house with the golden casket of a few 
stray flowers, they found their mistress’s rival, much to their surprise, 
rolling in a bed of the flowers! Their discomfiture was great. This 
news was duly communicated by the ladies-in-waiting to Satyabhdma. 
Thus her haughty spirit had a fall. She had to acknowledge, in 
her heart much against her wish, that she had only the second place 
in the heart of Krishna. 
There is supposed to be a time when once in the year during the 
Dewali holidays, on the 14th dark night of the month of Ashvin, 
the plants in the jungles speak and give information to herbalists 
wandering in the jungles. I have never wandered in the jungles 
ati night, and certainly I would not do so on the principal night of 
Dewali, for, like Christmas, Dewali comes but once a year, but if 
ever Ido, I am doubtful if I should understand the language of 
plants. There is, however, yet a sphere of usefulness for anybody 
that wanders the jungles in India by day ; he may gather the herbs 
and simples, and he may assist in the work of renovating the Bombay 
flora. There is infinite variety in nature. ‘ Age cannot wither 
her, nor custom stale her”; we may be able to examine old plants 
with new eyes, and we may be able to identify and classify the vast 
flora that yet lies insufficiently explored before us in this gorgeously 
green country and superbly rich soil. 
