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84
Tales from Indian Mythology
and reconciled himself to her mentally without any reserva. tions.
It was a bright morning which seemed brighter to Santanu. For his wife had just borne him a son and it was indeed a great day in Santanu's life. At once the glad tidings spread all over the empire and everybody rejoiced with unprecedented gusto. But the joy of Santanu and his subjects was to be only momentary. For at midnight a ghastly tragedy happened. She took the baby in her arms, smiled at her husband and quietly walked out. He was stupefied, but he had to suffer silently for fear that he might lose her. He tried to follow her, but when she turned back and stared at him fiercely, he had to retrace his steps.
She walked towards the river all alone in the dead of night, kissing and fondling her infant son all the way. By the time she reached the bank of the Ganga, the sky had assumed a hideous aspect because of the cloud formations which looked like leprous patches. That was the moment when ghosts would grin, when Death would strike. For some time she amused herself with tossing her child in the air and, as it fell on the sand crying, she giggled. At last, she flung it into the raging river with all her force. She returned to the palace and began to console her husband who naturally felt greatly intrigued by her behaviour.
"Are you annoyed with me?" she asked him seductively.
"Oh no, my beloved queen,” he said pressing her to his side." "Let us sleep now. You must be feeling tired."
The next morning the people insisted on seeing their infant prince. Santanu's answer was: "He is dead." No, they
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