After thoughtful counsel with Death himself, all the residents of Naimiṣāraṇya, accompanied by the one who had subdued Death, left behind their hermitages, O Nārada. Taking only their sacred fire, they abandoned all vessels and possessions, hastening with focused intent toward the Gautamī river to complete their sacrifice. Upon reaching the river, they bathed in its holy waters and then approached the great Lord seeking protection. With palms joined in reverence, they offered praise to the Lord of the gods. They extolled him as the playful creator of the universe, the ordainer of the three worlds, whose form is all-pervading, who is beyond both existence and non-existence—the sovereign Lord of Soma, to whom they sought refuge. Again, they declared their surrender to Śaṃkara, the Lord of the gods, who by mere will creates, protects, and destroys all things. They sought sanctuary in him who is the god of great fire, vast in form, adorned with the mighty serpent, and bearing the form of power. Then the blessed Lord spoke, granting satisfaction to Mṛtyu, Death himself. The sages, troubled, addressed the Lord: “O Lord of the gods, terrible fear has arisen from the Rākṣasas. Protect our sacrifice and us until the sacred rite is complete.” The three-eyed, bull-bannered Lord acted as their protector, and with Mṛtyu as his ally, the sacrifice of the sages was brought to fulfillment. As the rite concluded, the immortals arrived in due order for their share of the offerings. The assembly of sages, still agitated and accompanied by Mṛtyu, addressed the gods: “Because the Rākṣasas were sent to destroy our sacrifice, let these most wicked beings be your enemies.” From that moment, the Rākṣasas became the sworn foes of the gods. There, the gods and the pure sages, united in purpose, created a mare of magical power. Declaring, “Be the wife of Mṛtyu,” they anointed her, and the water of her consecration became the river known as Vaḍavā. The liṅga established by Mṛtyu at that site became renowned as Mahānala, and from that time, the sacred place was called Vaḍavāsaṃgama. Where the god Mahānala resides, that holy place grants both enjoyment and liberation; on both banks are a thousand holy sites fulfilling all desires, and remembrance there destroys all sin. Known as Ātmatīrtha, this place bestows enjoyment and liberation upon all who come. Hear now of its greatness, for there Śiva, the Lord of Knowledge, abides. He is also called Datta, son of the sage Atri, beloved of Hara, dear brother of Durvāsas, and master of all knowledge. Approaching his father, Datta bowed humbly and asked, “How may I obtain knowledge of Brahman? Whom should I approach, and where should I go?” Hearing his son’s earnest question, Atri entered meditation and then replied, “Go to the Gautamī, my son, and there praise Maheśvara. When he is pleased, you will surely gain knowledge.” Obediently, Datta went to the Gaṅgā, pure and self-restrained. With folded hands, he worshipped Śaṃkara with deep devotion, praying: “I have fallen into the well of worldly existence, covered by delusion through fate, sunk in the mire of suffering and enveloped in the darkness of ignorance. O Lord of the gods, I cannot find the supreme. I am wounded by the trident of affliction, torn by the blade of sinful anxiety, scorched by the fierce fires of the senses, and exhausted—O Somanatha, rescue me. Bound by the chains of poverty, struck by the fires of disease, overtaken by the serpent of death, and filled with fear—O Shambhu, what shall I do? Afflicted by existence and non-existence, thirst and hunger, passion and darkness, decay and old age—O Lord, look upon my condition with compassion today. “Desire, anger, envy, hypocrisy, pride, and many others have pierced and troubled me—O Lord, like a true protector, drive away my enemies. It is true that someone may remove suffering for the fallen, but without you, O Somanatha, there is not even a word of compassion for me anywhere. So long as I do not utter ‘Salutations to Shiva,’ anger, fear, delusion, suffering, ignorance, poverty, disease, desire, and even death remain. I have no righteousness, nor devotion, nor wisdom—how could I have compassion? Therefore, O refuge, quickly place the word ‘Soma’ in my heart. I do not seek the rulership of the gods; O Somanatha, in the lotus of my heart, I ask only for the presence of your auspicious lotus feet—grant me this. Though I am known to you as sinful, still hear my plea; wherever the name ‘Shiva’ is heard, there, O Somanatha, may my abode be. O Lord of Gauri, Shankara, Somanatha, Lord of the universe, ocean of compassion, soul of all—wherever you are praised as ‘the true one,’ there may the virtuous find their abode.” Hearing this heartfelt praise of Atri, the blessed Hara was pleased and said to Datta, “I am the giver of boons, creator of the universe. To you is granted self-knowledge, liberation, abundant enjoyment, and the greatness of this holy place—a boon worshipped even by the gods.” Saying, “So be it,” Śambhu disappeared. From that time, the wise have known this as the ‘self-holy place.’ Bathing and giving there leads to liberation, O Nārada. The holy place of the Ashvattha has thus been described, followed by the Pippala. Now, listen to the tale of Mandatirtha in the north and its excellence. Long ago, the blessed Agastya, lord of the southern quarter, was sent by the gods to fulfill the request of Vindhya. Slowly, Agastya approached Vindhya, accompanied by a thousand sages. Upon reaching the chief of mountains, crowded with countless trees, he beheld Vindhya adorned with hundreds of peaks, rivaling Meru and the Sun. The steadfast sage, lord of Lopamudra, was received as an honored guest by the twice-born, and, having praised the mountain, he then spoke words for the fulfillment of the gods’ purpose.