Majestic and enduring Jagannath, about which people composed songs, had been the capital city of the prosperous kingdom for many centuries. On all sides it was surrounded by high walls with watchtowers that neither robbers nor wild beasts could get past, and all its gates were heavily guarded. At the vast market square, camel caravans with exotic foreign goods were offloaded, and there were shops of artisans and craftsmen. The old man had never seen so many people. All were bustling and busy with something. Some traded, others bought, one cleaned the fish while another cooked them and offered them to taste. Around the square, elephants dragged huge logs for house-builders, magicians and snake charmers entertained bystanders, children flew kites, and buffaloes rested and grazed in the shade of spreading acacias. And on the hill at the heart of the city was the magnificent palace of Raja, the flag on its stone tower set at half-mast as a reminder about the missing Princess.

      The palace guards blocked the old man’s way.

      “I have news about the Princess,” he said.

      Two guards immediately opened the gate and told the old man to follow them. The royal palace was made of pale white marble and gleamed faintly with precious stones. In the menagerie yard, the antelopes wandered dejectedly, the mynas flapped around restlessly, the nightingales perched in silence in their golden cages, the turtles stood still on the bank of the pond, and even the peacocks had ceased to flaunt their colorful tails – it seemed that everything pointed to the sorrow of the kingdom. In the throne room, the huge portrait of the Great Ruler, father of the current King, covered the whole wall. Raja appeared almost immediately.

      “Who are you, old man? What brings you here?”

      “My name is Sadhu. As soon as I heard about your distress, I immediately came to you. I think I know who kidnapped the Princess and where you can find her.”

      Raja immediately invited the old man to take a seat and ordered that water and food be brought for him.

      Raja said sternly, ‘I have been waiting for three months for some news about my daughter. My people have worn down more than one pair of shoes in their search. If you can really help me, I’ll give you as much gold as you can carry! But if you try to fool me, I’ll throw you in the dungeon!”

      “I don’t need your gold,” Sadhu replied humbly, “and I always have to carry my own dungeon with me. I will tell you everything I know.”

      Sadhu took a sip of water and began.

      “Many years ago, when I was a little boy, my grandmother told me the story of a mysterious dwarf named Yoly, about whom she knew firsthand. Yoly was the Keeper of the Forest and cared about all forest inhabitants, and particularly about the small shoot of a Great Spruce, brought especially from the far North.” The old man took out from his bag antique manuscripts with drawings, handed them to the King, and continued. “One day the people were celebrating the approach of the rainy season. They set a huge fire, and when the firewood ran out, they went to the forest to collect more. It was a gloomy moonless night… having stumbled in the dark on they cut the dry remnants of branches and with them the little sapling and threw them into the fire. There was a burst of blue flames, and a strange squeaking sound was heard. The people were afraid and ran away, but the fire burned on. Soon, it spread to the bushes, and then onto the trees. The forest, still dry, quickly broke out in flames, and only a sudden downpour of rain saved it from burning out completely. Many animals and birds suffered that night. But the forest dwarf mourned most of all that he could not save the precious offshoot of the Great Spruce, and thus the forest was doomed to destruction. And then the dwarf swore that once a year – on this night – he would kidnap a girl of the same age as his little sapling, of those whose parents had caused this great harm to the plants and creatures. And he would raise these girls in the Spruce Forest, instilling in them concern and love for nature. So they would redeem the guilt of their ancestors. To keep the girls always young, he planted magic azaleas, bred by his own method. The miraculous aroma of these flowers stopped the girls from ageing. And the dwarf mixed a special potion of magical herbs to make them feel calm, so they did not miss their homes.”

      Raja listened carefully to the old man. He guessed that only a captive could have told Sadhu all this, and if one had managed to save herself, there was a chance for his daughter too. And now King understood what he was being punished for; the chopping down of trees to build houses and ships! – and that was only half of it, because he had burned so many forests during wars! And his palace was decorated with his many hunting trophies: on the floor, there were tiger skins, on the walls, there hung the heads of the wild animals that he had killed; there were decorations made from tusks and fans made from peacock feathers; he had given the beautiful Queen Rani luxurious furs of rare animals and songbirds in cages. The King looked around, thought that his house was like a graveyard of nature, and got angry! But he didn’t know whom to blame.