Bāṣkali, filled with humility and reverence, turned to the lord of the gods and said, “I shall return it, O lord; let your favor rest upon me.” As these words left Bāṣkali’s lips, the wise priest Uśanā addressed the Daitya king, reminding him of the responsibilities and boundaries of kingship. “You are the sovereign, O lord of the Daityas, established in the rites of rulership. Yet, you do not always discern what is proper or improper, nor to whom gifts ought to be given by me or at any time. Such matters require careful deliberation with your ministers, weighing what is right and wrong.” Uśanā continued, “Having conquered the gods and Indra himself, you now rule the three worlds. Yet, mark my words: by the end of this very conversation, you will find yourself in bondage. This dwarf who stands before you is none other than Viṣṇu, the eternal one. Do not give him anything; it was he who slew your father with his own hands. He is the slayer of your father, your mother, and the destroyer of your kin—he has always been, and will always be, the one to bring about the end of your lineage.” The priest’s warning grew more urgent. “He is not devoted to righteousness, but to the welfare of Indra and the other gods. Through deception, he has conquered the Dānavas. By his illusion, he has taken the form of a brāhmaṇa and shown himself as a dwarf. What more need be said? Give him nothing at all. If you grant him even as much land as the footprint of a fly, you will swiftly meet your ruin—this is the truth, as I have heard it.” Despite his teacher’s grave warnings, Bāṣkali replied with unwavering resolve, “All this I have promised, O teacher, for the sake of righteousness. To keep one’s word is the eternal duty of the virtuous. And if this is indeed the Blessed Viṣṇu, then none is more fortunate than I. If he wishes to accept a gift from me, for the sake of the gods, I am made even more blessed by this god, O teacher. He whom even yogis, absorbed in deep meditation, cannot behold—such a one I have seen today, indeed.” Bāṣkali’s devotion deepened as he spoke. “Those who give gifts with hands holding kuśa grass and water—may the Blessed Viṣṇu, the supreme soul, the eternal one, be pleased. Yet, upon hearing these words, a doubt arose in me, as it does in all who seek liberation: what is the proper course of action here? You have taught me since my youth that nothing should be refused, even if an enemy comes to my home.” He reflected further, “Considering this, O teacher, I declare that I would even give my own life; I will give to Vāmana even the heaven of Indra. A true gift is that which causes no harm; a gift that brings harm is tainted.” Hearing Bāṣkali’s steadfast words, the teacher stood with his head bowed in shame. Bāṣkali then proclaimed, “O Lord, since you have asked, all the earth shall be given by me.” He added, “It would be an embarrassment to me if only three steps of land are given.” Indra, present at the scene, responded, “O lord of the Dānavas, your words are true. This Brāhmaṇa has asked me for three steps of earth, and I too have been requested by him on his behalf. O son of Danu, you have been asked; let this boon be granted.” Bāṣkali then said, “O king of the gods, accept from me three steps of land for Vāmana. May you dwell happily there for a long time, O lord of the gods.” With these words, Bāṣkali granted three steps of land to Vāmana. The gift was ritually offered with water, and Bāṣkali prayed that Hari himself be pleased. As soon as the lord of the Dānavas made the gift, Hari abandoned his dwarf form. Assuming his cosmic form for the welfare of the gods, Hari strode across the worlds. Reaching the Yajña mountain and facing north, he took his steps: the abode of the Dānavas was placed at his left foot, and his first step landed upon the sun. With his second step, the god touched Dhruva, the pole star. With the third, O king, he struck the cosmic egg itself, performing a wondrous deed. From the tip of his big toe, as the cosmic egg was pierced, a torrent of water gushed forth, flooding all the worlds in succession, even reaching Brahmaloka. This sacred stream inundated the realm of Dhruva, the world of the sun, and the Yajña mountain, then entered Puṣkara, washing the footprints of Viṣṇu. The footprints that appeared on earth became known as Vaiṣṇava. Whoever journeys to that holy hermitage and bathes in the pond there attains the merit of an Aśvamedha sacrifice by merely seeing it, and, with twenty-one groups, gains residence in Vaikuṇṭha. After enjoying vast pleasures for three hundred kalpas, such a soul is reborn as a universal monarch on earth. O Bhīṣma, that stream of water which issued from the tip of Hari’s big toe is called the Vaiṣṇavī river, born from the foot of Viṣṇu. For this reason, O king, the Gaṅgā became known as Viṣṇupadī, by which this entire threefold world, with all that moves and does not move, was pervaded. The pure water that entered from the wound at the tip of the big toe became the divine river Viṣṇupadī. Through this sacred river, the entire cosmic egg, with all its beings, was suffused—out of Hari’s desire to bestow grace upon all. Then, Vāmana addressed Bāṣkali, saying, “Fulfill my steps.” At this, Bāṣkali became downcast and found himself without reply. Seeing his silence, the priest spoke: “The power to give is innate; we cannot create it ourselves.” Bāṣkali turned to Viṣṇu and said, “O Lord, as much as this earth exists, so much have I given to you—as much as the earth extends. What you created before, I have not withheld from you. The land is small, you are vast, but I am not able to create more.