When the enemies were vanquished and the Daityas had been slain in battle, the gods approached the sage Dadhīci, the foremost knower of Brahman. They said, “O lord of sages, our purpose is fulfilled; these burdensome weapons, which served us in the great war, should now be placed in your care.” The gods described how, after their victories, they would enjoy divine pleasures with celestial women in the Nandana garden, and then, having accomplished their tasks, would return to their respective abodes, leaving the weapons securely guarded. Hearing this, Dadhīci graciously agreed, saying, “So be it.” Though his beloved wife tried to dissuade him, he replied, “Why should one act against the gods’ purpose?” For those who know the scriptures, who are devoted to the highest truth and free from worldly attachments, what concern have they for the misfortunes of others? Such people seek neither happiness here nor in the hereafter. He explained further, “Those who hate the gods pursue enmity. When the weapons are lost or taken from their place, the gods become angry, and those who take them become their enemies. Therefore, it is not right to claim ownership over the property of another. As long as there is friendship and the object remains, all is well, but if it is lost or taken, enmity arises. If you have the power to give, then give to one who asks; what is there to consider? Otherwise, the virtuous serve others with words, thoughts, and deeds.” Hearing her husband’s wise words, his wife fell silent, knowing that nothing is possible apart from fate. With her acceptance, the gods deposited their radiant weapons with Dadhīci and departed, having bowed respectfully to him. Their purpose accomplished, the gods returned to their worlds, and Dadhīci, joyful and righteous, dwelt peacefully with his wife. A thousand divine years passed. During this time, the gods neither spoke of nor thought about their weapons, nor did they act concerning them. One day, Dadhīci said to his virtuous wife, “O gentle one, the enemies of the gods now hate me, and the gods do not wish to reclaim the weapons they left here. Tell me, what is proper?” She respectfully replied, “You know what is right, my lord. The Daityas, empowered by austerity and strength, will seize the weapons.” For their protection, Dadhīci performed a rite, sanctifying the weapons with mantras and holy waters, and then drank that potent water, thus absorbing the weapons and their power into his own body. As time passed, the weapons lost their power and gradually perished. Then, a great danger arose, and the gods assembled before Dadhīci, saying, “A great peril has come upon us from our enemies. O eminent sage, give us the weapons entrusted to you.” Dadhīci replied, “Out of fear of the enemies of the gods, and because you did not return soon, the weapons have been imbibed and now reside within my body. Let the gods declare what is proper for me.” The gods humbly said, “O best of sages, we can only ask you to give us your weapons and your body. Without them, we are overpowered by our enemies and have nowhere to go in the worlds. You, endowed with ascetic power, are the only one who can help us now.” Dadhīci replied, “Let the gods take the weapons formed from my bones. There is no doubt about this.” The gods, however, lamented, “What use is this to us? Deprived of weapons, O lord of gods, we have become powerless.” The sage then resolved, “I will abandon my bodily life, united with yoga. Let supreme weapons, of excellent form, be made from my bones.” The gods agreed, and at that moment, his beloved wife, radiant as fire, was not present. The gods, not seeing her, urged Dadhīci, “Do it now!” Filled with affection for them, Dadhīci renounced his difficult-to-abandon life, saying, “Enjoy this body as you wish.” He sat in the lotus posture, serene and radiant, his gaze fixed at the tip of his nose. Through mastery of breath and inner fire, he gradually led his vital air into the space of his heart. Fixing his mind on the supreme, immeasurable Brahman, he attained union with the Highest. Seeing his lifeless body, the gods and immortals quickly approached Tvaṣṭṛ, the divine artisan, saying, “Make many weapons at once.” Tvaṣṭṛ hesitated, “How can I act cruelly toward the body of a brahmin? Yet, the weapons must be fashioned.” He resolved, “For your benefit, the head of the thunderbolt will be made. The cows, along with the gods, will provide weapons.” In an instant, Dadhīci’s body was split open, and his pure bones were gathered and given to the gods, who departed swiftly, their vigor renewed. The cows, too, returned to their own abode. Tvaṣṭṛ, having made the weapons for the gods, departed as well. After some time, Śīlavatī, Dadhīci’s virtuous and fortunate wife, who was pregnant, hastened toward her husband’s hermitage, carrying a water-filled pot, and bowing to Umā with fruits and flowers, eager to see the sacred fire, her husband, and the hermitage. As she approached, she was stopped by the sudden fall of a meteor. Alarmed, she reached her hermitage but found her husband gone. Astonished, she asked Agni, “Where has he gone?” Agni explained to her in detail the coming of the gods and their request for her husband’s body. Hearing of the taking of his bones and his passing, she was overwhelmed with grief and anxiety, and slowly fell to the ground, comforted only by the sacred fire. Yet, she reflected, “It is not sorrowful that all which is born must perish. For the sake of cows, brahmins, and gods, virtuous people give up even their beloved lives. Truly blessed are those who, having obtained a righteous body, give up their lives for the sake of gods or brahmins.” She continued, “All embodied beings must surely lose their life-breaths—there is no doubt. Those who relinquish them for brahmins, cows, gods, or the destitute are indeed lords. Even though I tried to restrain her, she who had taken refuge with me accepted the divine weapon. Who can know the mind of another, or the intent of the Creator, regarding the extraordinary actions of mortals?” Having spoken thus, after worshipping the sacred fires, she entered, with her husband’s skin and hair, the womb where the child lay, tore open Pratithi’s belly, and took the child in her hand. The child, deprived of father, relatives, and kinsmen, and now bereft of his mother as well, was entrusted to the protection of all beings, the hosts of creatures, the medicinal herbs, and the guardians of the world. Indeed, those who see and protect a child utterly bereft of mother and father, who survives by his own strength, are worthy of veneration even by Brahma and the other gods.