Now in the course taken by the river Ganges a mighty rishi called Jahnu, had his home. As the great river came towards Jahnu, the villagers ran away to the neighbouring heights. But Jahnu sat on muttering to himself spells of fearful power. Nearer and nearer came the river until its waves began to trickle over the sage's feet. Suddenly a terrible flash of fire shot out of the rishi's eyes. He turned his face, black with anger, towards the oncoming stream. There was a gulp and a gurgle and not a trace of the Ganges was to be seen. On beholding this King Bhagirath's heart sank within him. But he did not give way to despair. He sacrificed to the mighty rishi day after day and month after month. At the same time he besieged heaven with his prayers, so that the immortals might intercede for him with Jahnu and obtain the river's release. The gods had pity on the king and addressing the rishi Jahnu added their prayers to his. "Let the Ganges be your daughter," said the Lord Brahmadeva to Jahnu, "let her be called Jahnavi and so she will perpetuate your name and your fame forever". At last the sage Jahnu relented. Two gigantic streams of water spouted out of his ears and the Ganges River once more flowed to the sea. King Bhagirath was overjoyed. But for fear that further ill fortune might befall the heavenly stream he called to her and bade her follow his chariot, as he led her eastwards to the sea.
When the Ganges river had rolled to the ocean, King Bhagirath knew that his task was fulfilled. He had now more than enough water with which to pay due honours to his dead kinsmen, the sixty thousand sons of King Sagar. He sent for their ashes from the distant spot where they had fallen. Then he held an unceas-
