Once, long ago, a group of Brahmins, masters of the Vedas, addressed a certain king who had insulted them. They pronounced a curse, declaring, “Because you have dishonored Brahmins, let the memory of this end with truth; at the time of your death, you shall be deluded by Keśava’s will.” The king, recounting his fate, explained that he had received this complete curse of Brahmā from those venerable Brahmins. Yet, after pronouncing the curse, the Brahmins, bowing respectfully to a great sage, spoke again to the king, wishing to grant him some favor. They said, “Whoever stands before you at the sixth meal-time, O lowest of men, that one will become your food for a certain time.” They continued, “When, struck by an arrow and with your life lingering in your throat, you hear from a Brahmin the words ‘Obeisance to Nārāyaṇa,’ then you will surely attain heaven—there is no doubt.” The Brahmins further declared, “Even if Viṣṇu’s name is heard from another’s mouth, it is manifest, O best of beings, even for one who has incurred the Brahmins’ wrath.” They affirmed, “Whoever, honoring Brahmins, utters ‘Salutations to Hari’ with his own mouth and departs this life, is freed from sin and attains liberation.” With great conviction, they proclaimed, “This is truth, indeed, again and again, truth—raising my arm, I declare: Brahmins who move about are gods; the Supreme Person is unchanging.” Having spoken thus, the king, freed from faults, ascended to heaven. The steadfast Brahmin then turned to address a hunter who stood nearby. The sage said to the hunter, “Because you protected me when the king of beasts sought to seize me, I am pleased with you, O virtuous one. Ask for a boon; I grant it.” The hunter replied humbly, “This alone is the boon for me—that you speak to me, O twice-born. What need have I for any other boon? Please instruct me.” The sage told him, “Once, O son, you sought me for penance, though burdened with many sins and bearing a terrible form, O sinless one. Now, your sins have been destroyed—by ablution in the sacred Devikā, by seeing me for a long time, and by hearing the name of Viṣṇu. You are purified in body at this very moment—there is no doubt.” The sage continued, “Now, in my presence, accept one boon: perform penance, O virtuous one, for as long as you desire.” The hunter then asked, “This Viṣṇu, Nārāyaṇa, the Lord, whom you have spoken of—how is he attained by mortals? This alone is the boon I seek.” The sage replied, “If a person undertakes even a small vow for Acyuta, he attains the Supreme, being endowed with devotion. Therefore, O son, you should practice this vow: do not eat food from a group, and never speak falsehood anywhere. This vow I have prescribed for you, O best of hunters; here, engaged in penance, remain as long as you wish.” Śrī Varāha then explained, “Thus, the Brahmin, having considered thoughtfully, became a giver of boons. Realizing the hunter sought liberation, the sage departed, having deceived him.” The excellent hunter, taking up this auspicious and beautiful path, performed penance without food, always remembering his teacher in his mind. When the time for alms arrived, he ate only dried leaves. Once, afflicted by hunger, he took shelter at the root of a tree. Hungry, he wished to eat a leaf from a nearby tree, but as he was about to do so, a bodiless voice spoke from the sky, “Do not eat the leaf that is crooked.” Obeying, he left it and took another fallen leaf from a different tree, but that too was forbidden in the same way. Thus, considering the leaves crooked, the hunter ate nothing. Fasting, he continued his austerities, remembering his teacher without fatigue. After a long time, the great sage Durvāsas, whose mind was disciplined, arrived and saw the hunter, who had only a little life remaining, yet blazed with the energy born of his penance, like an offering in the fire. The hunter, bowing his head to the great sage, said, “O Lord, I am fulfilled by your sight.” He added, “Now the time for the śrāddha has come for me—please understand this. Eating only dry leaves, O great sage, I seek to please you with these.” Durvāsas, seeing him pure in mind and self-controlled, wishing to test his austerity, said aloud, “Give me well-prepared food of barley, wheat, and rice, for I have come here hungry, seeking you.” When thus addressed, the hunter fell into deep thought, wondering, “How will this be possible for me?” Absorbed in worry, he pondered what to do. As he thought, a pure vessel, golden and endowed with success, fell from the sky; he took it in his hand. Taking the vessel, he spoke to sage Durvāsas, trembling, “Please remain here, O Brahmin, while I go to seek alms; let this favor be granted, O knower of Brahman.” Having spoken thus, the best of hunters went to seek alms, not far from there, to a city filled with wealth and women. As he arrived, all the most beautiful women came forth from the trees, golden vessels in hand, and quickly filled his vessel with various foods. Considering his purpose accomplished, he returned to the hermitage and saw the sage, the best among those who recite prayers. Seeing Durvāsas, the hunter placed the alms in a pure place, his mind serene, and, bowing to the sage, spoke, “O Lord, let your feet be washed, O foremost of sages; if I am worthy of your grace, please allow me to do this.” The sage, still wishing to test the power of his austerity, said, “I cannot go to the river, nor do I have a vessel for water.” Hearing this, the hunter became absorbed in thought, wondering, “How shall I quickly wash your feet, O wise one? What shall I do, and how will he eat?” And thus, with devotion and humility, he pondered how to serve the sage further.