Of the divine Nārāyaṇa and of Prahlāda, who stood as the adversary of the immortals, there arose within Prahlāda a profound knowledge. Seeking shelter, he turned to the supreme protector, Nārāyaṇa, and through devotion attained the highest union—great yoga—with that supreme person. In the course of time, Andhaka, foremost among the asuras, gained possession of a mighty kingdom. His heart became set on Umā, the goddess who dwelled upon the sacred Mandara mountain, daughter of the great mountain king. For the purpose of worshipping the Lord, thousands undertook severe austerities. In the wake of these acts, a devastating and fierce drought afflicted the land, destroying living beings everywhere. Driven by hunger, those who suffered wandered, begging for food to preserve their lives. In the midst of this hardship, the sages partook of food with minds free from doubt. Then, a great rain descended, restoring the world to its former state. Recognizing the need for guidance, they resolved, “Let us go swiftly to the great sage Gautama.” The wise ones counseled, “After staying at my house, you must certainly go,” and thus they brought the seekers before the great-souled Gautama. Gautama, in his care, tied her—the cow—in the cowshed, but the moment she was touched, she died. The sages, astonished and unable to comprehend such an event, spoke among themselves, “Until then, you must not eat food; we ourselves will go.” Led by misfortune, they departed to resume their austerities as before. Someone, perceiving the reason for these events and seized by great anger, pronounced a curse upon them. Because of this curse, they were destined to be born again and again in the same manner. In their rebirths, they offered praise with worldly hymns, like cows left after feeding. It was said, “By desire, these two great yogis must be saved from sinful food.” The question arose, “What should be done for them?” and this was asked of those who sought virtue. Seeing the best among the brahmins bowing in supplication, Hari spoke to the lord of cows: “O great god, Dharma, born from the Veda, concurs. All these, along with us, will go even to the hells.” “O bearer of the bull,” they declared, “we will compose scriptures that bring about delusion.” At Shiva’s command, Keshava too composed such bewildering scriptures—the Pañcarātra, the Pāśupata, and thousands of others in like manner. Thus, beings fell into terrible hells, again and again, for many aeons. Yet, words of hope were spoken: “Continue on by my grace, for there is no other deliverance for you.” Accepting the command of the enemy of the Asuras, they bowed their heads in reverence. They then began to instruct their disciples, having made clear to them the fruits of such teachings. Śaṅkara, adorned with matted locks, wandered with the twice-born, seeking alms for their benefit, and by his appearance and actions, he bewildered the world. From his own being, he appointed Rudra—Bhairava—to restrain the wicked. There, he established the Gaṇas, with the gods led by Indra. Assuming the form of a woman, he constantly served the great goddess. The others, too, served the great goddess, having taken on beautiful female forms. At the entrance, the chief of the Gaṇas stood as before, steadfast in his post. Finally, desiring to bring Pārvatī, he made his way to the sacred Mandara mountain.