“He then took leave of the hospitable people of Doyur, and went to Gilgit. On reaching the place, which is scarcely four miles distant from Doyur, he amused himself by prowling about in the gardens adjoining the royal residence. There he met one of the female companions of Shiribadatt’s daughter (_goli_ in Hill Punjabi, _Shadróy_ in Gilgiti) fetching water for the princess, a lady both remarkably handsome, and of a sweet disposition. The companion rushed back, and told the young lady to look from over the ramparts of the castle at a wonderfully handsome young man whom she had just met. The princess placed herself in a spot from which she could observe any one approaching the fort. Her maid then returned, and induced Azru to come with her on the Polo ground, the “Shavaran,” in front of the castle; the princess was smitten with his beauty and at once fell in love with him. She then sent word to the young prince to come and see her. When he was admitted into her presence, he for a long time denied being anything else than a common labourer. At last, he confessed to being a fairy’s child, and the overjoyed princess offered him her heart and hand. It may be mentioned here that the tyrant Shiribadatt had a wonderful horse, which could cross a mile at every jump, and which its rider had accustomed to jump both into and out of the fort, over its walls. So regular were the leaps which that famous animal could take, that he invariably alighted at a distance of a mile from the fort and at the same place.
“On that very day on which the princess had admitted young Azru into the fort, King Shiribadatt was out hunting, of which he was desperately fond, and to which he used sometimes to devote a week or two at a time. We must now return to Azru, whom we left conversing with the princess. Azru remained silent when the lady confessed her love. Urged to declare his sentiments, he said that he would not marry her unless she bound herself to him by the most stringent oath; this she did, and _they became in the sight of God as if they were wedded man and wife_.[12] He then announced that he had come to destroy her father, and asked her to kill him herself. This she refused; but as she had sworn to aid him in every way she could, he finally induced her to promise that she would ask her father _where his soul was_. ‘Refuse food,’ said Azru, ‘for three or four days, and your father, who is devotedly fond of you will ask for the reason of your strange conduct; then say, “Father, you are often staying away from me for several days at a time, and I am getting distressed lest something should happen to you; do reassure me by letting me know where your soul is, and let me feel certain that your life is safe.”’ This the princess promised to do, and when her father returned refused food for several days. The anxious Shiribadatt made inquiries, to which she replied by making the already-named request. The tyrant was for a few moments thrown into mute astonishment, and finally refused compliance with her preposterous demand. The love-smitten lady went on starving herself, till at last her father, fearful for his daughter’s life, told her not to fret herself about him, as _his soul was [of snow?] in the snows_, and that he could only perish by fire. The princess communicated this information to her lover. Azru went back to Doyur and the villages around, and assembled his faithful peasants. Them he asked to take twigs of the fir-tree or _tshi_, bind them together and light them—then to proceed in a body with the torches to the castle in a circle, keep close together, and surround it on every side. He then went and dug out a very deep hole, as deep as a well, in the place where Shiribadatt’s horse used to alight, and covered it with green boughs. The next day he received information that the torches (_talên_ in Gilgiti and _Lome_ in Astori) were ready. He at once ordered the villagers gradually to draw near the fort in the manner which he had already indicated.