As Prātitheyī hurried toward her destination, a meteor suddenly fell, startling her. Alarmed by this omen, she hastily returned to her own hermitage, only to find it empty—her husband was nowhere to be seen. Filled with astonishment and concern, she turned to Agni, the sacred fire, and asked, “Where has he gone?” Agni explained to her in detail what had transpired: the gods had come and, seeking her husband’s body for their purpose, had taken his bones. Hearing this, Prātitheyī was overwhelmed by grief and anxiety. The sorrow weighed so heavily upon her that she sank slowly to the ground, comforted only by the presence of the fire. Yet, Agni spoke words of solace, reminding her that in the world of mortals, it is not sorrowful that all which is born must perish. For the sake of cows, brahmins, and gods, virtuous people willingly give up even their beloved lives. Truly blessed are those beings who, having attained a capable body endowed with righteousness amidst the cycle of worldly existence, give up their lives for the gods or brahmins. All embodied beings must part with their life-breaths—there is no doubt about this; those who relinquish them for the sake of brahmins, cows, gods, or the destitute are indeed lords among men. Agni continued, saying, “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, Prātitheyī, after worshipping the fires, entered the womb where the child lay, carrying her husband’s skin and hair. She tore open Pratithi’s belly and took the child in her hand. The child, now deprived of father, relatives, and kinsmen, and bereft of his mother as well, was left alone. All beings, the hosts of creatures, the medicinal herbs, and the guardians of the world prayed for the child’s protection. Those who see and protect a child utterly bereft of both mother and father, who has grown only by his own body, are worthy of veneration even by Brahma and the other gods. Prātitheyī, devoted to her husband’s will, placed the child near the pippala trees, paid her respects, and abandoned him. Circumambulating the fire and carrying the sacrificial vessels, she entered the fire and, together with her husband, ascended to heaven. The hermitage mourned. The trees and forest-dwellers wept, for the sage Dadhichi had nurtured them like sons. Without him, and now without her, the animals, birds, and trees lamented that they could not live. Those who constantly show genuine affection for the children of parents who have attained heaven are truly accomplished. “Neither Dadhichi nor Pratitheyī looks upon us as before, neither father nor mother—shame on us, we are sinful,” they said. From that moment on, they declared that the child, Dadhichi Pratitheyi, was the eternal dharma-child. Having spoken thus, all the medicinal herbs and trees approached King Soma and requested the supreme nectar. Soma granted them the unsurpassed nectar, which the trees and herbs gave to the child, beloved of the gods. Nourished by this nectar, he grew as the moon waxes in the bright fortnight. The pippala trees cared for him, and the child, Pippalada, became strong and filled with wonder. He spoke to the pippala trees, asking, “Humans are born from humans, birds from birds, plants from seeds—no disparity is seen in the world. But how is it that I, a tree-dweller, was born possessing hands, feet, and life?” The trees and herbs, hearing his question, recounted in order the death of Dadhichi and the virtuous woman’s entry into the fire. Having heard in full detail from the gods about the gathering of his father’s bones, Pippalada was overwhelmed by sorrow and fell to the ground. The trees comforted him with words imbued with righteousness and purpose, and reassured, he addressed the medicinal plants and trees, declaring, “I will slay the killers of my father; otherwise, I am not fit to live. A son follows both the friends and enemies of his father in the same way. He alone is truly a son; another, though appearing as a son, is considered an enemy. It is said that the friends of the father rescue even those who are hostile.” The trees took the boy and went to Soma, reporting Pippalada’s words to him. Upon hearing them, Soma spoke to Pippalada, saying, “Receive, by my command, the complete knowledge in due form, the accomplishment of austerity, auspicious speech, courage, beauty, strength, and wisdom, my son.” Pippalada respectfully addressed the lord of the plants, saying, “I consider all this to be in vain unless I make atonement for the slaying of my father. Therefore, tell me that first. O best of gods, in which place, at what time, with which deity, with what mantra, and at which sacred site will my intention be fulfilled?” After meditating for a long time, Soma replied, “Whether it is enjoyment or liberation, all arises from the great god Maheśvara—there is no doubt about this.” Pippalada asked again, “How shall I see Maheśvara? I am a child, with the understanding of a child, and I do not have the capacity for such austerity.” Soma replied, “Go to the Gautamī river and praise Hara, the lord of the discus. If the lord is pleased with you, O little one, he will be gracious with little effort. If pleased, the great god, the compassionate Śiva, will appear directly. Śambhu, manifest, abides there, revealed to the mighty Viṣṇu. He granted a boon to Viṣṇu and the discus worshipped by the gods. Go there, O wise one, to the Gautamī river in Daṇḍaka. The plants know that sacred place as Cakreśvara. Go there and praise Śaṅkara, the lord of gods, with all your heart; he, pleased in mind, my child, will grant you all desires.” By Soma’s command, the great sage Pippalada went to where Rudra, the lord of the world and giver of the discus, was present. Moved by compassion for the boy, the pippala trees returned to their hermitages. After bathing in the Godāvarī, Pippalada bowed to the lord of the three worlds and, pure in heart, praised Śiva with all his being. Renouncing all actions, the steadfast ones, having abandoned desires and conquered the mind and senses, strive for liberation and seek refuge in Him. Thus, Pippalada bowed to that primordial god Śambhu.