10. He releases the Gonds shut up in the cave and constitutes the tribe.
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
Russell, R. V. (Robert Vane)
With a stone of sixteen cubits,
And his bulldog fierce Basmāsur;
Serve them right, too, I consider,
Filthy, casteless, stinking wretches!”
And the Hermit to his grotto
Back returned, and deeply pondered
On the days that are forgotten,
On the unremembered ages.
But our Lingo wandered onwards,
Fasting, praying, doing penance;
Laid him on a bed of prickles,
Thorns long and sharp and piercing.
Fasting lay he devotee-like,
Hand not lifting, foot not lifting,
Eye not opening, nothing seeing.
Twelve months long thus lay and fasted,
Till his flesh was dry and withered,
And the bones began to show through.
Then the great god Mahādeva
Felt his seat begin to tremble,
Felt his golden stool, all shaking
From the penance of our Lingo.
Felt, and wondered who on earth
This devotee was that was fasting
Till his golden stool was shaking.
Stepped he down from Dewalgiri,
Came and saw that bed of prickles
Where our Lingo lay unmoving.
Asked him what his little game was,
Why his golden stool was shaking.
Answered Lingo, “Mighty Ruler!
Nothing less will stop that shaking
Than my sixteen scores of Koitūrs
Rendered up all safe and hurtless
From your cave in Dewalgiri.”
Then the Great God, much disgusted,
Offered all he had to Lingo,
Offered kingdom, name, and riches,
Offered anything he wished for,
‘Only leave your stinking Koitūrs