Having conquered the many different Yakshas, the king Ila remained in their realm for ten nights. During this time, the lord of the Yakshas, who had lost both his home and his attendants, withdrew into the forest with his beloved wife. Both had assumed new forms—the Yaksha took the shape of a deer, and his wife, the Yakshini, became a doe. In the seclusion of the woods, the Yaksha, troubled and anxious, spoke to his gentle consort. He said, “Beloved, this king is beset by misfortune, his mind weighed down by calamity. We must consider a remedy for his troubles. All the kingdoms of the earth’s rulers ultimately end in sorrow and adversity. O fair-browed one, let us go to the forest. Assume the form of a charming doe, and there the king will surely follow. A woman will arise as a result. You must do this, gentle one, for it is not fitting for me. I am a man, and you are, again, a woman—a Yakshini. Why should you not go to the excellent forest of Uma? Even if you go, what fault is there? Tell me truly.” The Yaksha then recalled the decree given on the great Himavat mountain. There, Shiva, accompanied by Uma, wandered freely, surrounded by gods and attendants. Once, Parvati spoke privately to Shankara, saying, “It is the nature of women that their pleasure must be guarded. Therefore, by your command, let my place be protected. Grant me, O lord of the gods, the forest of Uma, as I have heard; let it be without you, Ganesha, Karttikeya, or Nandi. Whoever enters here, O lord, shall become a woman.” Thus, the compassionate moon-crested Shiva gave this command regarding the forest of Uma. The Yaksha concluded, “What shall I do, beloved, as a man, afflicted by your love? Therefore, I must not go to Uma’s excellent forest.” Hearing her husband’s words, the Yakshini, adept at changing form, became a wide-eyed doe and appeared before Ila. At that time, the Yaksha, standing nearby, saw Ila’s attention fixed on the doe, his mind absorbed in the hunt. Mounted alone on his horse, Ila eagerly pursued the elusive creature. The doe skillfully led the king, enticing him deeper into the woods, sometimes appearing before him, sometimes vanishing from sight. With restless eyes, she lured him toward the forest of Uma, her movements alternating between standing, fleeing, and running in feigned fear. Finally, Ila, still mounted, entered the forest of Uma. The Yakshini, recognizing that Ila had crossed into the sacred grove, abandoned her deer form and, by her mystical powers, assumed a divine appearance. She stood near an ashoka tree, slender, radiant, and adorned with celestial fragrance, holding a branch in her hand. Having accomplished her purpose, she watched as the weary king gazed about, searching for the vanished doe. Seeing Ila, the Yakshini laughed gently and, remembering her husband’s instructions, spoke to the king: “Delicate one, riding alone, where are you going? And, dressed as a man, whom do you pursue, O Ila?” Hearing these words, Ila, overcome with anger, rebuked the Yakshini and turned his questions again to the doe. But the Yakshini, undeterred, said, “O Ila, why do you keep looking at me?” Ila, bow in hand, remained on horseback, still bewildered and frustrated. The conqueror of the three worlds displayed his bow in anger, but the Yakshini calmly addressed him again: “Look behind you, then speak to me, for I am truthful and do not deceive.” Turning, Ila beheld his own form changed—his high breasts visible between his arms. Bewildered, he cried, “What is this that has happened to me?” Confused and desperate, he pleaded, “What is this that has happened? Do you know the truth of it? Tell me everything as it truly is. Who are you? Speak, O virtuous one.” The Yakshini replied, “In the finest cave of Himavat dwells my husband, the illustrious lord of the Yakshas. I am his wife, a Yakshini. In his cave, O king, you once sat in cool comfort, and in your ignorance, you slew a Yaksha there, without battle. Therefore, to escape, I became a deer and entered the Uma forest, and you have followed. Long ago, Maheshvara declared: ‘Whoever, out of ignorance, enters here, that man will become a woman.’ Therefore, you have attained womanhood; you should not grieve. Even the wise cannot fathom the wondrous ways of destiny.” Hearing these words, Ila, still on his horse, was overcome with distress. The Yakshini sought to comfort him, saying, “Now that you have become a woman, do not try to regain your former state. Instead, learn the arts suitable for women: dance, song, adornment, feminine grace, playful games, and all the duties of women.” Having received this counsel, Ila addressed the Yakshini: “Who is to be my husband? What should I do? How can I regain my manhood? Tell me this, O auspicious one, for I am afflicted by sorrow. There is no greater virtue than alleviating the suffering of the distressed.” The Yakshini replied, “To the east of this forest dwells Budha, the son of Soma, in his ashram. He often visits his father. Along this very path, Budha goes to see Soma, the planet, and offers his respects. When Budha, peaceful and wise, arrives, reveal yourself to him. Upon seeing him, O fortunate one, you will attain all your desires.” With these comforting words, the Yakshini vanished. She reported all that had transpired, and the Yaksha too found happiness once more.