Having reached a state of utter exhaustion and distress, she thought to herself, “May some lord come to my rescue.” As she wandered in hope, her eyes fell upon an excellent hermitage, its tranquil air filled with the melodious cries of intoxicated cuckoos. Reflecting upon her situation, she gathered her resolve and entered that great hermitage. Her mouth was parched and her eyes unsteady, her whole being resembling a withered lotus deprived of water. Within the hermitage, someone noticed her and, wondering, thought, “Who is this?” Rising, the resident stood up to greet the weary visitor. The two began to question each other, and soon, they were engaged in conversation, sharing various stories and listening to one another with full attention. Among them was a sage, a knower of truth and master of sacred knowledge. Observing certain letters, the sage entered a brief meditation. Through his spiritual insight, the ascetic quickly understood the situation. Without delay, he set out for Ayodhya to meet the lord of the Ikshvaku dynasty. Standing before the king, he said, “Hear me, O tiger among men, O king, I have a request. A monkey has appeared within your domains. There is one named Shakuni, O king of kings, who is accomplished in the science of weapons. He has instructed his dear son, Shakuni, born in the line of ascetics.” Together with the great sage, Shakuni journeyed to the place of captivity. There, they saw the sage’s son, bound atop a tree, his matted hair tied, sitting upon a banyan branch. With swift skill, the protector Shakuni cut the bonds of the sage’s son with his arrows. It was only after five hundred years had passed that he was able to accomplish this feat with arrows. Seeing his father arrive, Jabali, though restrained, approached as best he could. The sage, overjoyed, embraced his son and lovingly smelled his head. Shakuni, strong-armed, quickly set down his bow and arrows. And the best of monkeys was unable to hide himself any longer. Then, a bird descended from the tree together with the supreme sage. With great speed, Shakuni cut the branch into three pieces with his crescent-shaped arrows. By the path formed of arrows, Jabali descended safely from the tree. Accompanied by Jabali, the bearer of burdens, they then approached the river born of the Sun. When they had gathered to behold Hara, Śrīkaṇṭha, foremost among yogis, and after Ṛtadhvaja had departed, there was much pure and unblemished association among the sages. They performed the bathing rites and worshipped him day and night, as prescribed. To see Śrīkaṇṭha, the unmanifest, there was one named Gālava. Having bathed in the pure waters of the Kālindī, the pure one entered the sacred presence. Then, the daughters of Yakṣas and Asuras sang sweet songs, their voices melodious and enchanting. These maidens were Gandharvas—there could be no doubt. Having completed his recitation, Gālava sat in meditation, honored by the two maidens. With devotion, he adorned the family of Bhava, Lord Shiva. Gālava, best among ascetics, having learned of the circumstances, was born anew to his purpose. Rising in the morning, he worshipped the Lord of Gaurī with due reverence. He then addressed the maidens, “I invite you, O maidens. Please grant your permission.” They inquired, “For what purpose does the reverend one wish to go to the Puṣkara forest?” Thus, the tale of their devotion and journey continued, ever in pursuit of truth and liberation.