Dwelling deep within the forest, he delighted in the company of young elephants and their keepers, playing joyfully amidst the wilds. Bound together by a curse, both wandered the earth, lost in delusion, their days passing among the trees and streams. One day, he approached the sacred confluence known as the Triveṇī, intent on bathing in its purifying waters. There, he tended to the elephants, giving them water to drink and joining in their playful frolic. But lurking nearby was a crocodile, its heart burning with the memory of an old enmity. Spurred by this ancient grudge, the crocodile attacked the elephant, dragging it forcefully into the swirling waters. A fierce struggle ensued—tusks broke and the water churned as they battled, pulling and tearing at one another. Many other creatures, caught in the turmoil, perished in that place, afflicted by the chaos. In his anguish, the elephant called out to the blessed Lord, compassionate to his devotees, seeking divine help. Again and again, he hurled stones, striking them together in the presence of Hari, the Supreme Lord. Because of these events, O dear one, that place became marked by many such happenings, its sanctity multiplied. Do not doubt the holiness of the Triveṇī, O beautiful one. In later times, when King Bharata came near the hermitage of Pulastya, he developed a clear aversion toward that place on account of Bharata’s presence. Yet, because the Lord was worshipped there in this way, he came to be known as Jaleśvara, the Lord of Water. Whenever I, O fortunate one, was present in Śālagrāma or another sacred field, wherever the first stone fell, there a sacred site arose. One who bathes there, radiant and pure, is honored in the realm of the Sun. For the protection of devotees, I commanded Sudarśana, and thus, confusion scattered everything and covered the land entirely. Placing the herds of cows in front, he journeyed to the field of Hari. When Nandī, bearing the trident, led the cows, the gods wandered there as well, and so it became known as Devāṭa, the dwelling of the gods. There, the Lord of the gods, holding the trident, grants fearlessness to his devotees. In that place, Mahādeva himself is of the Sālaṅkāyana lineage, and as a great yogi, he bestows the attainment of yoga to those who seek it. From the Trijaṭās, three wondrous streams arose, giving birth to the three-streamed sacred site. In the field called Śālagrāma, one devoted to worshipping Hari, who bathes at this three-streamed site and offers reverence to ancestors and gods, attains great merit. On the eastern side of this field, it is remembered as Haṃsa-tīrtha, the sacred swan’s ford. There are times, especially on the night sacred to Śiva during the great festival, when devotees gather for worship. Then, crows, drawn by hunger, fly toward the offerings. In the midst of their struggle, two crows fell into a pit, and from it, they emerged transformed—two radiant swans, shining like the moon. From that time, O noble one, the place has been called Haṃsa-tīrtha, the holy place of the swans. Long ago, it was fashioned by a Yaksha and was known as Yaksha-tīrtha. There, too, a devotee wholly dedicated to Shiva gave up his life, sanctifying the place. Such is the power of this sacred site, owing to the greatness of the great yogi. All this, O Earth, I have revealed to you—the secret of the holy field and its wondrous glory.