Standing on the bank of that very stream, he spoke solemnly, “Because of this, the Lord of the gods does not bring rain upon mortals. Therefore, abandoning the earth, I have entered this stream here.” In those days, there was Devapi, a righteous soul, renowned among the Kshatriyas. His son was Pratipa, a virtuous man, foremost among the noble. Pratipa renounced and took up the kingdom, and his own son Shantanu succeeded him. Yet, for this reason, rain was withheld from Shantanu’s kingdom. In response, he quickly gave orders for rain to fall upon the earth. Then, as instructed by Shakra, the clouds—brilliant with lightning, radiant and exceedingly fierce—filled the sky, O King. The Lord of Offerings, Agni, was supremely satisfied. The gods said, “Whatever is dear to you, quickly declare it to us. Let your fame spread upon the earth, by your favor. Whoever bathes here properly will go to the world of Agni. Any man who gives sesame here at this holy place with full concentration—” And so, the blessed Fire-god resumed his activity as before. Moreover, whoever recites this daily, rising in the morning, attains the highest. Even by hearing it, one is freed from sins committed day and night. Where a man bathes properly, he is released from the sin of killing a Brahmin. Long ago, there was a king named Indrasena, a ruler of the earth. His wife, Sunanda, was devoted, living always for her husband, steadfast in affection. In time, King Indrasena and his family met their fate. The victor, having slain him and seized much wealth, departed for his home. A messenger was sent with these words: “Go and tell Sunanda that Indrasena has been killed in battle. If she, the radiant one, resolves firmly to go to death—” Thus addressed, the messenger departed at once, O best of kings. Hearing his words, Sunanda, with a beautiful smile, prepared herself. At the time of her death, Sunanda, adorned with virtue, passed away. Then, above her body, a second shadow was seen—devoid of radiance, foul-smelling, and discolored, O best of kings. Afflicted by destruction, grief, and sorrow, he lamented pitifully. On the advice of the Brahmins, another journey was undertaken. He went to Varanasi and gave much charity there. At the Kapalamocana tirtha, the holy place that destroys all sins, his second shadow was not lost. In the same way, he went to the Pushkara forest, then to Amarakantaka, then to Prabhāsa, to Soma’s holy place, and to Kṛmijāṅgala. He wandered to Rudrakoṭi, to Virūpākṣa, and then to Pañcanada, O king. Roaming the earth, the lord of men became weary. After a thousand years had passed, he reached Mount Arbuda. There he saw groups of ascetics and brahmins accomplished in the Vedas. He arrived at the holy place called Raktānubandha on that mountain. There, no second shadow was seen, which arises from the killing of a woman. The foul smell vanished, his radiance increased greatly, and, praised in all directions by bards, he set out for home. Then, O king, he crossed beyond Raktānubandha and Soma’s holy place.