Both the male and female pigeons set out together in search of food. By the workings of fate, the male pigeon returned safely to their tree, but the young female was trapped—she had been caught alive by a hunter and remained bound in his cage. The male pigeon, now alone, saw his nest empty and his children deprived of their mother. As night fell and a dreadful rain began to pour, he gazed upon his lonely home, his heart gripped by sorrow. He did not yet know that his beloved was imprisoned, but as the sun set and the storm raged, he sat beneath the tree, recalling her countless virtues. He mourned: “Even now, my virtuous one, the source of my joy, the mother of my dharma, the mistress of my very body—she has not returned. She is always my companion in dharma, wealth, desire, and liberation; when pleased, she smiles, and when angered, she removes my sorrows. She is ever my confidante, delighted by my words, always ready with counsel. Even now, my virtuous one has not come back, though darkness has fallen.” He remembered her simple, unwavering devotion: “She knows nothing of vows, mantras, destiny, or the deeper meaning of dharma and wealth. Her life, her thoughts, her love—all are for her husband.” Despairing, he wondered aloud: “Even now she has not returned. What shall I do? Where can I go? Without her, both home and forest seem empty. With her, even adversity seemed sweet and beautiful; she made our home a delight. Now, I do not wish to live without her, or I will abandon this dear body. What will become of our children? I am bereft of all righteousness.” As he lamented thus, his beloved, hearing his words from within her cage, spoke out to him: “Here I am, bound and helpless, O best of birds. The hunter brought me here and tied me with cords, O wise one. Yet I am blessed and favored, for my husband speaks of my virtues. Whether I am truly good or not, I am fulfilled, without doubt. When a husband is pleased, all the gods are pleased with a woman; but if he is displeased, she meets with ruin. You are my destiny, my lord, my friend, my refuge. You are my vow, the supreme Brahman, my heaven and my liberation. Do not grieve, O virtuous one; keep your mind steady in dharma. By your grace, I have enjoyed many pleasures. Enough of sorrow—immerse your mind firmly in righteousness.” Hearing these loving words, the pigeon swiftly descended from the tree to where his mate was caged. She saw her beloved, as if lifeless, and pleaded with the motionless hunter, “Release him!” But then she said, “Do not release him, O noble one, knowing the unstable nature of worldly relationships. Hunters are food for those who move in the sky, and life is the food of life. I recall no fault in him; keep your mind firm in righteousness. The teacher is fire for the twice-born; among the classes, the Brahmin is the teacher. For women, the husband alone is the teacher; for all, the guest is the teacher. Those who please a guest with kind words are praised, and for them, the goddess of speech is surely satisfied. By giving food to such a one, even Indra attains satisfaction. The ancestors are pleased by washing the feet, Prajapati by food and drink; by such service, Lakshmi is pleased by Vishnu. All the gods are present on the guest’s bed; therefore, the guest is most worthy of honor. A guest who arrives, weary, at sunset, entering the house, should be regarded as a form of the gods, for he is the fruit of all sacrifices. All the gods, ancestors, and fires follow a guest who arrives weary; when he is satisfied, they rejoice, and when he departs unsatisfied, they too are unsatisfied. Therefore, O beloved, abandon sorrow, keep your mind pure, and perform righteous acts.” She continued, “Helping and harming are both considered excellent; everyone does good in return to those who help them. But he who does good to those who harm him is truly virtuous and attains great merit.” The male pigeon responded, “You have spoken well for both of us, and I agree. Yet there is more to consider—listen, O beautiful one. Some carry a thousand burdens, some a hundred, others ten; some easily feed themselves, while we struggle to fill our bellies. Some store their grain and wealth in pits, others in sheaves, some in pots, but we have only what we carry in our beaks. How, then, shall I honor this weary guest who has arrived, O auspicious one? Fire, water, kind words, grass, wood—these too should be given to one who asks. This hunter is afflicted by cold.” Hearing these loving words, the king of pigeons climbed the tree, searched about, and saw a fire burning in the distance. He flew to it, took a burning stick in his beak, and brought it back to kindle a fire before the hunter. Again and again, he gathered dry wood, leaves, and grass, feeding the fire through the midnight hours. The hunter, shivering from the cold, warmed himself by the blazing fire, comforted at last. Yet, seeing the hunter now tormented by hunger, the female pigeon spoke to her husband: “Do not release me, O noble one. With my own body, I shall satisfy the suffering hunter. May you, O virtuous one, attain those worlds reserved for those who honor their guests.