people—to whom the boy-philosopher, Subrahmanya, resorted. After questioning each other both were mightily pleased at the fortune which had brought them together. Jñânanidhi was glad to impart his hard-earned knowledge during his leisure moments to the young student, and Subrahmanya, with that longing which made him renounce the city and take to the woods eagerly swallowed and assimilated whatever was administered to him. He relieved his mother—for as such he regarded his master’s wife—of all her troubles, and used, himself, to go out to bring the fruits, herbs, and roots necessary for the repasts of the little family. Thus passed five years, by which time our young friend had become learned in the many branches of Aryan philosophy.
Jñânanidhi had a desire to visit the source of the Tuṅgâbhadrâ, but his wife was eight months advanced in her pregnancy. So he could not take her; and to take care of her he had to leave behind his disciple, Subrahmanya. Thus after commending the lady to Subrahmanya’s care, and leaving for female assistance another sage’s wife, whom he had brought from a distant forest, Jñânanidhi went his way.
Now, there is a strong belief among Hindûs that Brahmâ, the great creator, writes on everyone’s head at the time of his birth his future fortunes in life. He is supposed to do this just at the moment
