All of them set forth together, accompanied by abundant wealth. It was during the first half of the day, on the thirteenth day of the bright fortnight of the month of Māgha, that the journey began. At that very moment, he set out, his heart intent on the path ahead. After a long passage of time, you brought Narayana, fulfilling a cherished purpose. Having bathed and satisfied the ancestors with offerings, and adorned in fine clothes and ornaments, you arrived at a certain place. There, a man named Bhangurasa, steadfast in his duties, was in my service. To him, you gave twenty cows of great value, and day after day, you bestowed wealth and jewels upon him. While you stayed there, the rainy season arrived. The kadamba trees blossomed, as did the kuṭaja and arjuna trees, their flowers brightening the landscape. Yet, those trees were struck down by torrents of rain, as thunder roared and hummed above. The rivers resounded with noise, and the cries of peacocks filled the air. Gentle winds blew, bringing comfort to the peacocks, and the entire season passed, echoing with the drums of clouds. When the rains subsided, the ponds became clear, filled with blooming lotuses and water-lilies. Pleasant, fragrant, and cool breezes began to blow. As autumn ended in this way, the festival of Kaumudi arrived. Then, on the eleventh day, O fair-browed one, after bathing and adorning yourself with linen garments, you prepared for the sacred time. Having dwelled there in comfort for six months, the twelfth day arrived. Hearing the words of his parents, that son—steadfast in righteousness—responded: "Thus it is, O greatly fortunate one, as you have spoken. Indeed, this is the twelfth day, dear one, beloved of Lord Nārāyaṇa. On this twelfth day in the bright Kaumudi, the joyful offer gifts. By the power of that giving, which brings delight to Viṣṇu, great merit is obtained." As they spoke in this way, the auspicious night passed into morning. Purified as was proper, and adorned again in linen garments, he approached his parents, took hold of their feet, and addressed them: "Whatever you wish to ask, dear father, regarding the secret of the boar, I will tell you. "I once ate insects and, afflicted by indigestion, was greatly tormented. Seeing me bewildered, the children took me and went off to play. You saw me, and I saw you—thus, our contest began. Saying, 'Not mine, but yours,' I went to the supreme holy place of the Sun. There, at that mighty holy place, I released my life-breath. Mother, on this most auspicious day, your son was born. The secret of what has passed, and my own story, I have now told you. "I shall perform my duty. Go now, dear one; my salutations to you. Whatever deeds are declared by Viṣṇu, those you should have performed. The garland of banyan leaves, as is proper, brings liberation from the cycle of actions." Thus, having performed great deeds, they met death in due course. Freed from all worldly existence, they attained the radiant White Island, the realm beyond sorrow and rebirth.