O King, listen now to the wondrous events that unfolded in ancient times. A multitude of ascetics and Brāhmaṇas, driven by friendly rivalry and the spirit of sport, came together in great numbers. Among them, it was said that the Brāhmaṇa who arrived last would be transformed into a dog. Thus, in their eagerness and competition, they all hastened carelessly to the sacred Arbuda mountain. These ascetics were serene and steadfast, accomplished in Vedic knowledge and learning. It was at this auspicious moment that the great Lord Śiva, filled with supreme compassion and devotion, manifested before them. All at once, the sages beheld Maheśvara with their own eyes. Overwhelmed by this divine vision, the devoted Brāhmaṇas joined together and praised Śiva with sacred Vedic hymns. Śrī Mahādeva spoke to them, his voice gentle and full of grace: “O sages, I am pleased by your supreme faith. May the highest reward arise from this simultaneous vision of the Lord. All those who have this darśana shall obtain the merit of bathing at all holy places.” Then Śiva commanded, “Let a single liṅga, made to represent a crore liṅgas, be established here, O Bull-bannered One. By beholding this liṅga, people will attain the fruit of worshipping a crore liṅgas.” Suddenly, the earth trembled and, bursting through the great mountain, a liṅga emerged from its heart. At that very moment, a bodiless voice echoed through the air, proclaiming, “Whoever worships this liṅga on the fourteenth day of the dark fortnight of Māgha, O Brāhmaṇas, will have all his merits multiplied a crore times. His reward will be immense, equal to the merit of offering śrāddha at Gayā.” Hearing this, all the sages, with perfumes, incense, and fragrant ointments, worshipped the liṅga with deep faith, O King. This liṅga, it is said, removes all sins and bestows beauty of form on those who honor it. In those days, there was a renowned celestial nymph named Vapu. Once, an Ābhīrī woman, unfortunate in appearance and deformed of face, was wandering on Mount Arbuda to gather fruit. By the mysterious grace of that holy place, she was suddenly adorned with divine garlands and garments, her body transformed with celestial beauty. She was changed completely, O great king, by the sanctity of that mountain. As she wandered upon the highest peak, radiant and beautiful, a being saw her and wondered: Was she a goddess, a nāga maiden, a siddhā, or a vidyādhari? Enchanted, he exclaimed, “O lovely-browed, lotus-eyed one, you have stolen my mind!” In truth, she had come only to gather fruit, but slipped and fell into a mountain stream. After bathing in those sacred waters, she emerged transformed—her form now beautiful and auspicious. “All the gods are subject to me,” she declared, “what more could I desire?” The one who saw her, having gained freedom from passion, spoke gently to her, slender-waisted as she was: “Pleased by your humility, I will grant you the highest boon. Whoever bathes here with devotion will win the favor of all the gods. They will be born beautiful, with a radiance that even the gods rarely attain.” With these words, he ascended to heaven with her in a celestial chariot. Thus, O best of kings, because she attained that divine form, the gods themselves come to that water-reservoir on the third day of the bright half of Māgha to honor its sanctity.