Then, gripped by fear, the Earth herself addressed King Pṛthu, the wide-eyed sovereign. She confessed, “The great herbs have already been consumed within me—how am I to provide them now?” Hearing this, the king’s anger flared. With stern resolve, Pṛthu replied, “If you do not yield them today, I shall slay you and bring forth the great herbs myself.” The Earth, wise and patient, reasoned with him: “How can you, O best of kings, kill a woman? Without me, how will you sustain all these beings?” But Pṛthu, steadfast in his duty, answered, “Where the benefit of many arises from the loss of one, there is no fault, O Earth. By ascetic power, I will sustain these beings myself.” He continued, “I see no fault in this, nor do I consider your words meaningless. When such acts are performed, happiness arises for many. The sages have declared that the destruction of one for the welfare of many surpasses even a hundred horse sacrifices.” Witnessing this tense exchange, the gods and sages soothed both Pṛthu, the foremost of kings, and the divine Earth, Mother of all. The assembled host of gods addressed her: “O Earth, assume the form of a cow. Give your milk and great herbs to King Pṛthu. In this way, the king will be pleased, the people protected, and welfare will prevail.” Thus, the Earth transformed herself into a cow and sat near the sage Kapila. There, King Pṛthu, born of Vena, milked from her the great herbs. The gods, Gandharvas, and sages, including Kapila, witnessed this wondrous sight at the river Narmada. In the same manner, upon the Sarasvati, the Bhagirathi, and especially the Godavari, as well as all great rivers, Pṛthu drew forth that nourishing milk. As Pṛthu milked the Earth, the rivers themselves became holy and pure, merging with the sacred Gautami, and it was as though a great marvel had unfolded. From that moment, the place became known as the Meeting of Kapila, a sacred site where, O wise one, eighty-eight thousand revered holy places are found. The sages declare, O Nārada, that even the remembrance of these sacred places purifies the world, one after another. Now, O Nārada, let me tell you of a place celebrated throughout the three worlds, famed as the dwelling of the gods. Listen well to its power. Long ago, at the dawn of the Krita age, as battle raged between gods and demons, a demon maiden named Simhika lived. Her son was the mighty Rāhu. When the nectar of immortality arose and Rāhu was divided, his own son, Meghahāsa, was born—a demon of great strength. Upon learning of his father’s fate, Meghahāsa, stricken with grief, undertook severe austerities on the banks of the Gautami. While Meghahāsa performed his penance there, the gods and sages, fearing the force of his austerities, approached him. “O mighty-armed one, abandon your austerity. Whatever you desire, let it be fulfilled. By the grace of Shiva-Ganga, nothing here is unattainable.” Meghahāsa replied, “My father, worthy of worship, was insulted by you, O gods. If you show utmost affection to him and to me, by your favor and my austerity, I will renounce enmity. A son must act to remove enmity out of respect for his father. If you agree, let all my wishes be fulfilled.” Accepting his words, the gods made Rāhu a planet and Meghahāsa the chief among the Rākṣasas. Then, Rāhu’s son, lord of the Nairṛtas, spoke again: “Let my fame be established. Grant the power of this sacred place.” The gods agreed and bestowed all that was in their minds upon him. Thus, O wise Nārada, that holy place came to bear the name of the lord of the Daityas, for all the gods had assembled there. That divine tirtha is difficult even for the gods to attain, for there resides the lord of the gods himself. There, O Nārada, are eighteen sacred sites revered by the Daityas; bathing and giving there destroy even the gravest of sins. Among these, Siddha-tirtha is renowned, where Shiva, lord of the Siddhas, abides. Hear now of its power, which bestows all accomplishments. Rāvaṇa, born in the lineage of Pulastya and famed throughout the worlds, conquered all directions and reached the realm of Soma, the moon god. As Rāvaṇa prepared to challenge Soma, I advised him, “Desist from battle with Soma, O ten-headed one. I shall give you a mantra.” With this, I imparted to him a mantra of one hundred and eight names of Shiva, for the appeasement of the king of the Rākṣasas. For the destitute, the fallen, and those afflicted by troubles, Shiva alone is the refuge in this world; there is no other. Empowered by the mantra, Rāvaṇa withdrew from Soma’s domain. Victorious, he mounted the Pushpaka chariot and swiftly returned, proud, to his own worlds. As he traveled, he gazed upon the gods, the sky, the earth, the Nāgas, the elephants, and the Brahmins. He beheld the great mountain Kailāsa, abode of the lord of Umā. Rāvaṇa wondered, “Who among the great souls would dwell on this mountain? I shall take this mountain away to Lanka. Brought to my city, it will surely bring beauty and prosperity.” Hearing these words, his two ministers, perceiving his intent, advised him sincerely, “It is not proper.” But the night-wandering Rāvaṇa ignored their counsel. Quickly alighting from the Pushpaka, Rāvaṇa leapt to the base of Kailāsa and began to shake the mountain. Shiva, perceiving this, acted accordingly. Having already defeated the guardians of the directions, Rāvaṇa, proud enemy of the gods, attempted to lift Kailāsa. But Shiva pressed down with his toe, sending the ten-headed one into the netherworld and other realms, humbling his pride.