‘The burglar watched the fun, quietly. I have to know where this tug of war ends, he thought to himself.

‘The prince tried his best to calm his two wives, but nothing worked. “I don’t want either of you. Let go of me!” he exclaimed and wrenched himself from their hold. He failed miserably, only his dhoti came off.’

Krishnappa was busily swallowing his giggles.

‘The girls were not going to give up. The prince’s eyes were popping out in the struggle. The fight went on until dawn. The palace’s second horn blared loudly.

‘The burglar realized it was day and tried to creep out silently but was caught by the guards. They took him to the raja and the raja of course ordered his head to be chopped off.’

At this moment, Akkayya heard some noise upstairs and he went up to check. ‘Nothing,’ he said, when he returned and resumed his tale.

‘The prince got to know of the burglar and the raja’s command much later. He ran to his father and told him, “Do not chop his head off. I have a better punishment.”

‘“What could that be?” asked the raja.

‘“Just get him married to two girls, at the same time. That is a good enough punishment,” promised the prince.’

When Akkayya finished his story, the muffled noise from upstairs was heard quite well. Akkayya warned everyone around the house and went up again.

He could see light stealthily moving up from the west, like two fire-spitting peys.

‘Perhaps it is a fire-spitting pey,’ whispered one of the young men with him.

‘Shut up! There is no such thing as a pey or pisasu. It is just your imagination,’ retorted Akkayya.

‘Is today a new moon night?’ asked another.

‘That was last night,’ replied Akkayya. ‘Professional bandits never set out to steal on a new moon night. It is the only night they get in a month to rest.’

But unlike what they were expecting, the torch-bearing bandits were not coming in from the west. They entered from the east.

15

THERE WERE AROUND SIXTY TO seventy bandits that night. They wore comfortable leather slippers that would not slip when they had to run. A few of them carried drinking water in leather canteens. Many of them carried unlit torches that were at least a foot long. About five of them had copper bowls with oil in one hand, their other wrists wrapped in a cloth. This was to keep the oil from spreading to their elbows when they poured it on the torches.

When the group neared the village, one of them removed a folded piece of banana bark from his waist, took out a ball of cotton and a pair of flint stones. He scraped the stones together until they sparked and the cotton caught fire. He touched the lit cotton to the oil-soaked torches and blew lightly on them until they were aflame.

Soon, all the torches were burning bright. As they burnt, those with the oil bowls carefully replenished them with more, without putting out the flame. Then they slightly loosened the coils in the torches with a stick, before handing them back to the bearers. Just as the oil carriers had a wrist band, each torch also had a band below the flame so that the hot oil would not scald the bearer.