On the banks of the sacred river, the garment and water pot of the ascetic woman remained, left behind as she went to bathe. But as she was immersed in the waters, a crocodile suddenly seized her. Her husband, the Niṣāda, was overcome with anguish, for he had never spoken a harsh or unpleasant word to her. Tormented by uncertainty, he wondered if perhaps some piśāca or evil spirit had devoured her instead. In his grief, he questioned what sinful or terrible deed he might have committed in a past life to deserve such sorrow. He called out to his beloved, who always followed his heart, begging her to return. He pleaded for her to look upon him and their three young sons, who were weeping and longing for their mother. The children, dear to her, cried out in distress, and the Niṣāda lamented that she must know he was hungry and thirsty without her care. As the Niṣāda wandered here and there, lamenting, he mourned that she, who had lived with him in happiness and unity, was now gone forever. At that moment, a brāhmaṇa sage spoke gently to the Niṣāda, urging him, "Go; why do you torment yourself so? These sons must never be abandoned, not at any time." The sage, seeing the Niṣāda overwhelmed by sorrow, offered words of comfort and solace. Consoled by the brāhmaṇa's sweet words, the Niṣāda found some relief. Yet, bewildered, he asked, "What is this you say, O brāhmaṇa, that is so indistinct and strange?" Hearing this, the brāhmaṇa himself fell into a faint from sorrow. Regaining his senses, he instructed the Niṣāda, "Go quickly to your own place, taking these your children." But the Niṣāda still did not understand the deeper meaning of these words. He pressed further, "What evil deed did you do in the ancient past? By what fault have you come to be a woman, having formerly been a man?" At this, the sage of firm vows replied, "Nishada, listen attentively as I recount my story." The brāhmaṇa explained, "I practiced strict austerities, taking only one meal a day, avoiding forbidden foods, and performing many acts, all desiring a divine vision. After a long time, I beheld Janardana, Lord Vishnu. Yet, having no desire for any boon, I did not ask for one. Then Vishnu spoke to me: 'Having seen the illusion, enough, O twice-born. Now you will see enough, O noble one.'" He continued, "Through the delusion of Māyā, I came to the bank of the Ganga. Following the bathing rite, I immersed myself in those pure waters. In that moment, I knew nothing—what was happening, or what I was experiencing. For some unknown reason, I entered the waters of Jahnavi. Nishada, see there the water pot, the mat, the cloth as before; the staff and cloth—whatever was not worn out—were carried away by the Ganga." Having spoken thus, the Niṣāda vanished from sight. Then, O Devi, the brāhmaṇa certainly undertook austerities once more. As he continued his practice, the afternoon arrived. He gathered flowers for his rites, filled with faith. Surrounded by eminent Brahmins, the twice-born sage performed his ablutions in the sacred Ganga, resuming his spiritual path.