Vishnupurana 5.6

ON one occasion, whilst Madhusúdana was asleep underneath the waggon, he cried for the breast, and kicking up his feet he overturned the vehicle, and all the pots and pans were upset and broken. The cowherds and their wives, hearing the noise, came exclaiming, "Ah! ah!" and there they found the child sleeping on his back. "Who could have upset the waggon?" said the cowherds. "This child," replied some boys, who witnessed the circumstance; "we saw him," said they, "crying, and kicking the waggon with his feet, and so it was overturned: no one else had any thing to do with it." The cowherds were exceedingly astonished at this account; and Nanda, not knowing what to think, took up the boy; whilst Yaśodá offered worship to the broken pieces of pots and to the waggon, with curds, flowers, fruit, and unbruised grain.

ON one occasion, whilst Madhusúdana was asleep underneath the waggon, he cried for the breast, and kicking up his feet he overturned the vehicle, and all the pots and pans were upset and broken. The cowherds and their wives, hearing the noise, came exclaiming, "Ah! ah!" and there they found the child sleeping on his back. "Who could have upset the waggon?" said the cowherds. "This child," replied some boys, who witnessed the circumstance; "we saw him," said they, "crying, and kicking the waggon with his feet, and so it was overturned: no one else had any thing to do with it." The cowherds were exceedingly astonished at this account; and Nanda, not knowing what to think, took up the boy; whilst Yaśodá offered worship to the broken pieces of pots and to the waggon, with curds, flowers, fruit, and unbruised grain.

ON one occasion, whilst Madhusúdana was asleep underneath the waggon, he cried for the breast, and kicking up his feet he overturned the vehicle, and all the pots and pans were upset and broken. The cowherds and their wives, hearing the noise, came exclaiming, "Ah! ah!" and there they found the child sleeping on his back. "Who could have upset the waggon?" said the cowherds. "This child," replied some boys, who witnessed the circumstance; "we saw him," said they, "crying, and kicking the waggon with his feet, and so it was overturned: no one else had any thing to do with it." The cowherds were exceedingly astonished at this account; and Nanda, not knowing what to think, took up the boy; whilst Yaśodá offered worship to the broken pieces of pots and to the waggon, with curds, flowers, fruit, and unbruised grain.

ON one occasion, whilst Madhusúdana was asleep underneath the waggon, he cried for the breast, and kicking up his feet he overturned the vehicle, and all the pots and pans were upset and broken. The cowherds and their wives, hearing the noise, came exclaiming, "Ah! ah!" and there they found the child sleeping on his back. "Who could have upset the waggon?" said the cowherds. "This child," replied some boys, who witnessed the circumstance; "we saw him," said they, "crying, and kicking the waggon with his feet, and so it was overturned: no one else had any thing to do with it." The cowherds were exceedingly astonished at this account; and Nanda, not knowing what to think, took up the boy; whilst Yaśodá offered worship to the broken pieces of pots and to the waggon, with curds, flowers, fruit, and unbruised grain.

ON one occasion, whilst Madhusúdana was asleep underneath the waggon, he cried for the breast, and kicking up his feet he overturned the vehicle, and all the pots and pans were upset and broken. The cowherds and their wives, hearing the noise, came exclaiming, "Ah! ah!" and there they found the child sleeping on his back. "Who could have upset the waggon?" said the cowherds. "This child," replied some boys, who witnessed the circumstance; "we saw him," said they, "crying, and kicking the waggon with his feet, and so it was overturned: no one else had any thing to do with it." The cowherds were exceedingly astonished at this account; and Nanda, not knowing what to think, took up the boy; whilst Yaśodá offered worship to the broken pieces of pots and to the waggon, with curds, flowers, fruit, and unbruised grain.

ON one occasion, whilst Madhusúdana was asleep underneath the waggon, he cried for the breast, and kicking up his feet he overturned the vehicle, and all the pots and pans were upset and broken. The cowherds and their wives, hearing the noise, came exclaiming, "Ah! ah!" and there they found the child sleeping on his back. "Who could have upset the waggon?" said the cowherds. "This child," replied some boys, who witnessed the circumstance; "we saw him," said they, "crying, and kicking the waggon with his feet, and so it was overturned: no one else had any thing to do with it." The cowherds were exceedingly astonished at this account; and Nanda, not knowing what to think, took up the boy; whilst Yaśodá offered worship to the broken pieces of pots and to the waggon, with curds, flowers, fruit, and unbruised grain.

ON one occasion, whilst Madhusúdana was asleep underneath the waggon, he cried for the breast, and kicking up his feet he overturned the vehicle, and all the pots and pans were upset and broken. The cowherds and their wives, hearing the noise, came exclaiming, "Ah! ah!" and there they found the child sleeping on his back. "Who could have upset the waggon?" said the cowherds. "This child," replied some boys, who witnessed the circumstance; "we saw him," said they, "crying, and kicking the waggon with his feet, and so it was overturned: no one else had any thing to do with it." The cowherds were exceedingly astonished at this account; and Nanda, not knowing what to think, took up the boy; whilst Yaśodá offered worship to the broken pieces of pots and to the waggon, with curds, flowers, fruit, and unbruised grain.

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Ráma, and the other Krishńa. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohińí nor Yaśodá was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yaśodá, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishńa with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar, and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishńa, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishńa pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishńa is called Dámodara, from the binding of the rope (dáma) round his belly (udara). The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Pútaná, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindávana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

Having thus resolved, the inhabitants of Vraja communicated their intention to their families, and desired them to move without delay. Accordingly they set off with their waggons and their cattle, driving before them their bulls and cows and calves; the fragments of their household stores they threw away, and in an instant Vraja was overspread with flights of crows. Vrindávana was chosen by Krishńa, whom acts do not affect, for the sake of providing for the nourishment of the kine; for there in the hottest season the new grass springs up as verdantly as in the rains. Having repaired, then, from Vraja to Vrindávana, the inhabitants of the former drew up their waggons in the form of a crescent.

Having thus resolved, the inhabitants of Vraja communicated their intention to their families, and desired them to move without delay. Accordingly they set off with their waggons and their cattle, driving before them their bulls and cows and calves; the fragments of their household stores they threw away, and in an instant Vraja was overspread with flights of crows. Vrindávana was chosen by Krishńa, whom acts do not affect, for the sake of providing for the nourishment of the kine; for there in the hottest season the new grass springs up as verdantly as in the rains. Having repaired, then, from Vraja to Vrindávana, the inhabitants of the former drew up their waggons in the form of a crescent.

Having thus resolved, the inhabitants of Vraja communicated their intention to their families, and desired them to move without delay. Accordingly they set off with their waggons and their cattle, driving before them their bulls and cows and calves; the fragments of their household stores they threw away, and in an instant Vraja was overspread with flights of crows. Vrindávana was chosen by Krishńa, whom acts do not affect, for the sake of providing for the nourishment of the kine; for there in the hottest season the new grass springs up as verdantly as in the rains. Having repaired, then, from Vraja to Vrindávana, the inhabitants of the former drew up their waggons in the form of a crescent.

Having thus resolved, the inhabitants of Vraja communicated their intention to their families, and desired them to move without delay. Accordingly they set off with their waggons and their cattle, driving before them their bulls and cows and calves; the fragments of their household stores they threw away, and in an instant Vraja was overspread with flights of crows. Vrindávana was chosen by Krishńa, whom acts do not affect, for the sake of providing for the nourishment of the kine; for there in the hottest season the new grass springs up as verdantly as in the rains. Having repaired, then, from Vraja to Vrindávana, the inhabitants of the former drew up their waggons in the form of a crescent.

Having thus resolved, the inhabitants of Vraja communicated their intention to their families, and desired them to move without delay. Accordingly they set off with their waggons and their cattle, driving before them their bulls and cows and calves; the fragments of their household stores they threw away, and in an instant Vraja was overspread with flights of crows. Vrindávana was chosen by Krishńa, whom acts do not affect, for the sake of providing for the nourishment of the kine; for there in the hottest season the new grass springs up as verdantly as in the rains. Having repaired, then, from Vraja to Vrindávana, the inhabitants of the former drew up their waggons in the form of a crescent.