Gautama now returned to Benares, and addressed a great crowd of angels, men, and animals. Each man in the multitude, no matter what his language might be, understood the words of the speaker, and even the birds of the air and the beasts of the field knew that the wise man spoke to them, too. He remained in the neighbourhood of Benares for a long time, gathering round him a number of men and women, who were determined to do as he told them. When the rainy season was over, he dismissed them, sending them away in all directions to carry his gospel to whomsoever they should meet. He himself went to his native land, his father having sent to say that he was now old, and would like to see his son again before he died. His uncles were very angry with him, and when he arrived at the town where his father lived, they offered him no food. So in the early morning he took his begging-bowl and went out to beg his daily meal. When his father heard of this he was very cross, for he thought it a disgrace that the King's son should walk like a common beggar from house to house asking alms. The King met the Buddha and reproached him, but anger soon was lost in love, and the father, taking the son's bowl, led him to the palace. The people in the palace crowded to meet them. But Gautama's wife remained in her own room waiting for him to come to her, in a place where she could welcome him alone. Presently he asked for her, and, learning where she was, he went to see her, accompanied by a few disciples. As soon as his wife saw him, she fell weeping at his feet. Somehow she knew, almost without looking at him, that he was changed, that he was wiser and holier than any man she had ever met. After a time he spoke to her of his message to men, and she listened earnestly to his words. She accepted his teaching, and asked to be allowed to become a nun. The Buddha was not at first inclined to permit this, but at last he yielded to her entreaties, and his wife became one of the first of the Buddhist nuns. For forty-five years the Buddha worked as a missionary in the valley of the Ganges, till the time of his end came, and he passed away from earth. As he lay dying, he said to his cousin Ananda, who had been a loving and faithful disciple, "O Ananda, do not let yourself be troubled; do not weep. Have I not told you that we must part from all we hold most dear and pleasant? For a long time, Ananda, you have been very near to me by kindness in act, and word, and thoughtfulness. You have always done well." And again speaking to the same disciple, he exclaimed, "You may perhaps begin to think that the word is ended now that your teacher is gone; but you must not think so. After I am dead let the law and the rules of the Order which I have taught you be a teacher to you."