________________
Y am a
and
Markande ya
T was the longest and severest penance ever performed on that steep, narrow precipice overlooking a bottomless gorge. This forbidding mountain retreat, with room hardly enough for three ascetics or two others, was much favoured by recluses who were in the last phase of their austerities. But whoever sat there in meditation never rose again, because it was the citadel of death, as it were. However, the hapless rishis who rolled headlong into the ravine below had the strange spiritual satisfaction that they were on their way to the Kingdom of God-strange because they seemed content, not with an ascent, but with a descent, and what a descent it was ! Thou none of thhem had survived, and it appeared Mrikandu and Marudwati also might join them any moment. Of course the aged hermit couple would rather perish praying for a son than live for ever without one. Many wild winters passed and to these succumbed nearly all life in muffled groans. But Mrikandu and Marudwati did not move. They met the challenge of the elements with the only weapon they had mastered-penance. Determined to emerge triumphantly from their rigors and austerities, they sat still
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