The Lifting of the Mountain

Now it came to pass, year after year, at the end of the hot weather, that the cowherds of Brindaban would offer a great sacrifice to Indra, God of the Sky and King of Deities. And this sacrifice, it was believed, availed to make Him send the yearly rains, and was efficacious also to make Him restrain them, that they should not be sufficient to wash away the forests and make the Jumna overflow her banks. But on a certain year it hap-pened that the Lad Krishna noticed the preparations that were being made for this sacrifice. And His heart was hot within Him, for He was born to put an end to the worship of Indra and the weather-deities, and to establish in its place, faith in Narayan, God Himself, Lord of the souls, not of the fortunes of men. The Youth Krishna therefore reasoned with Nanda, His foster-father, and with the other cowherds, urging them to realise that good harvests or bad came to them out of their own destiny, the fruit of causes long past, and could not be given or withholden by Indra or any other of the ancient gods. “Surely, if ye must worship,” He cried, in His earnestness, “it were better to worship this mountain under whose shelter we dwell. Let us celebrate a feast in honour of the forest and the priesthood and the cows. To do this were indeed well, but to worship Indra for the sake of harvests is but childish nonsense and old wives' tales!” Carried away by His pleadings, the cowherds placed themselves entirely at his will, and that year's merrymaking was dedicated to the mountain, to which they owed home and food and all that they en-joyed.

But not without a struggle would the God Indra resign His accustomed offerings. None of the daring words of Krishna were hidden from Him. He was present at every conference. He heard the fiery arguments, and He saw the impression moreover that was made on the minds of the simple country-folk. Indra knew that if He did not now defeat the plans of the Lord Krishna, then were the hearts of the people lost for ever to Him, and all the shining deities of the sky. Therefore, to punish the presumption of the cowherds—who had dared, at the bidding of Krishna, to enter on the rainy season without first making sacrifices to Him—the God Indra sent down such rain as had never been seen in Brindaban within the memory of man. Down, down, down it poured, hour after hour, day after day, without one moment of intermission; and the river began to overflow, and the trees to be washed away; and it looked as if the people, and their herds, and their villages would all be lost, nay, as if the very world itself would be drowned in one great flood. But to Krishna all the anger of Indra was a very little thing. When He saw the danger of His people, He simply called them together, and, telling them to bring with them their cattle and their tools, and all their worldly possessions, He lifted up the mountain itself, and, holding it up with a single finger, He made them all take shelter beneath it! And so He stood, protecting them, seven days and nights, till even the mighty Indra was exhausted and repentant, and ready to offer worship to Him Who was greater than all the ancient gods together. Then all the herdsmen and women came forth once more from their refuge, and the sun shone brightly upon them, and the mountain was restored to its own place, and even the spirit of the Jumna was appeased, and her flow became gentle and untroubled as before. But one by one came the old men and prostrated themselves before Krishna, saying, “Child! In sooth we know not Who You are—but whoever and whatever You be, to You be our salutation! To You be our worship!”