Out of affection and a sense of closeness, one was urged to speak about a matter that was dear. Responding, he whose eyes resembled lotus petals spoke sweetly, promising, “O beautiful one, I will reveal everything to you, and I swear by truth.” He explained that the foundation of what she sought was austerity, and that the kingdom itself was established upon truth. He assured her, “I have never spoken falsely before; tell me, what shall I do for you? Or else, I will perform for you the supreme and excellent coronation.” He reminded her that there was a vow forbidding the sight of one who is asleep, though it lasted but a moment. After making the kingdom free from thorns and handing it over, he departed to the fifth state, fulfilling dharma as established by Manu, for it is not seen otherwise. Reflecting on what had been contemplated before—desiring to see his beloved—he noted that a vow performed unjustly becomes entirely corrupted. He gently asked, “What is there to be concealed in this matter, that you are troubled?” He observed the consumption of flesh, cooked food, garments, and ornaments, and remarked, “You go ceaselessly, O king; what remains when I am not with you?” The king, speaking of righteousness, was replied to with loving words. Together with his queen, the king sipped water and rested for a moment. The best among fathers then spoke sweet words to his son, and, having heard his father’s words, the illustrious prince listened. As time passed in this way, the two of them remained there, O Earth. Then came the invitation, “Come, come, Lord, let us go; see the secret intent.” There, they attained death, free from all attachments. By abandoning all attachments, one becomes a devotee. Afterwards, they reached Śvetadvīpa—know this, O Earth. Having performed the meritorious and supremely difficult act of the Boar incarnation, the radiant Sun was greatly pleased. Thus ends the one hundred thirty-seventh chapter, entitled ‘The Granting of the Sun’s Boon and the Story of the Vulture and the Jackal,’ in the holy Varāha Purāṇa, within the section on the greatness of the holy places, in the discourse of the Boar. Now begins the tale of the Khañjarīṭa bird. This most sacred story was heard in the beautiful Saukarava region at that time. The lotus-eyed lady, foremost among those who know all dharma, questioned that god again, her mind filled with wonder. She asked, “Without desire, at the time of death, one attains human birth. What merit arises from dancing, or what is the fruit of remaining awake? From sweeping, smearing, or offering fragrance and flowers—or by any other act, or by recitation, sacrifice, and the like?” As she listened, a great and supreme curiosity arose in her heart. The god spoke sweet words to Earth, who desired righteousness: “Listen, beautiful one, to the truth of what you ask me. I shall tell you everything—all meritorious deeds that bring happiness.” He continued, “After consuming many things, he was greatly afflicted by indigestion, O Earth.” At that place, some children arrived, and while playing, they found that dead bird. Each cried, “This is mine! This is mine!” and tried to seize it from one another. Then one of them took it and threw it into the waters of the Ganga.