When the Lord’s form was marred, who among the noble-hearted could witness such a sight and remain unmoved? Again and again, the one who saw it reproached himself, lamenting, “This has happened while I still live.” Overcome by grief, he cried, “Alas, what terrible fate has come upon me, struck down by cruel destiny!” Observing his actions, the great Mahādeva was filled with astonishment. Then the Lord spoke to Veda, the foremost among those learned in the Vedas: “See the hunter, O wise one—how he is filled with devotion and sincerity. Yet you, O best of the twice-born, have only touched my head with clay, kuśa grass, or water. By this act, O Brahman, even my very self has been offered. Wherever there is devotion, love, power, or discernment, I shall grant boons to such a one first, and only afterwards to you.” With these words, the great Lord Maheśvara invited the hunter to choose a boon. The hunter, standing before the Lord of gods, requested, “May I receive your nirmālya—your sacred remains. May that become ours, O Lord. Let a holy place be named after me, and may that holy place grant the fruit of all sacrifices merely by remembrance.” The Lord of the gods replied, “So be it.” Thus, that most excellent sacred place, Bhillatirtha, was established as a means for the destruction of all accumulated sins. It became the bestower of great devotion at the feet of glorious Mahadeva, granting both enjoyment and liberation through bathing, giving, and other meritorious acts. Shiva also granted many various boons there, even to the Vedas themselves. Known as Cakshus-tirtha, this sacred place bestows beauty and good fortune and is where the Lord of Yogis resides, on the southern bank of the Gautami river. Upon the summit of a mountain lies the city called Bhauvana, once ruled by King Bhauvana, steadfast in the duties of a warrior. In that excellent city lived a Brahmin named Vriddhakaushika, whose son, Gautama, was renowned as the foremost knower of the Vedas. Yet, because of a fault in his mother’s mind, this twice-born Gautama developed a contrary nature. He had a friend, a merchant named Manikuṇḍala. Their friendship was uneven—one was wealthy, the other poor—but each always sought the other’s welfare. One day, Gautama spoke privately and affectionately to the wealthy Manikuṇḍala: “Let us go in search of wealth, even to distant mountains and oceans. Youth is wasted without the means for happiness; how can there be happiness without wealth? Alas, shame on the man who is poor.” Manikuṇḍala replied, “I already have much wealth, earned by my father. What need do I have for more, O best of Brahmins?” But Gautama, full of vigor, responded, “Who among those who know righteousness, wealth, knowledge, and desire is ever truly satisfied? For embodied beings, only the attainment of excellence is praiseworthy, my friend. Those who live by their own effort are truly fortunate; those content with what is given by others live a wretched life. That son is praised in the world and honored by his ancestors who does not even mention his father’s wealth, O Kuṇḍala. The son who, relying on his own strength, acquires wealth, is accomplished in the world; he should not touch his father’s wealth. A son who earns wealth himself and gives it to his father or relatives—know him to be a true son; the other is merely born of the womb.” Hearing these words, Manikuṇḍala was filled with desire and accepted them as true. He quickly gathered his jewels and presented his own wealth to Gautama. With that money, they traveled through various lands as they pleased, saying, “We will take the wealth and riches and then return home.” The merchant spoke truthfully, but the Brahmin harbored deceit. The merchant, with a sinful mind and intent, did not truly recognize the Brahmin; the two, unaware of each other’s parentage, addressed one another as friends. Together, they traveled from land to land in search of more wealth, but the Brahmin secretly plotted to seize the riches held by the merchant. Gautama thought, “By whatever means possible, I will gather that wealth. There are thousands of delightful cities on earth. Women, like goddesses who grant desires, charming in every place, are present—what should I do? If, having obtained wealth through effort, it is given to women, they enjoy it always; truly, such a life is fruitful. Constantly adorned by courtesans, delighting in dance and song, how shall I enjoy that wealth of the merchant which has come into my hands?” Thus reflecting, Gautama, as if laughing, with jeweled earrings, spoke: “Indeed, by unrighteousness, creatures thrive. They attain growth, happiness, and their desired things—there is no doubt; yet, in this world, the righteous are seen to partake of suffering. Therefore, what use is righteousness, whose only result is suffering?” The merchant replied, “No, happiness is established in righteousness; in sin there is suffering, fear, grief, poverty, and distress. Where there is righteousness, there is liberation; how can one’s own duty perish?” Thus, as they argued, a dispute arose between them: whoever’s side would prove stronger would win the other’s wealth. They agreed to ask whose strength is greater—righteousness or unrighteousness. “In the world, the Veda is supreme, and from righteousness comes happiness,” they declared. They addressed all the people, asking, “On earth, whose power is greater, that of righteousness or unrighteousness?” Let them speak as it truly happened, they insisted. Those who followed righteousness replied, “By them, suffering is experienced; the most sinful people are happy.” In the dispute, all the wealth was declared won by the Brahmin. Maṇimān, foremost in knowledge of righteousness, again praised dharma. The Brahmin addressed Maṇimān, “Why do you praise righteousness?” The merchant said, “So be it,” and the Brahmin spoke again.