8. 'As truly as I do not recollect, however pondering, that I ever did harm to any living being, not even in the highest distress, by the power of this truth may the King of the Devas fill the water-basins with the water of his rains.' When the Great Being had pronounced these words, there happened a miracle, occasioned by the power of his veracity joined to the store of his merit and to the favour shown to him by Devas, Snakes and Yakshas, who put into effect their might. In all parts of the sky there appeared rain-clouds, though out of season yet in the proper time[126]. They were hanging low, being loaded with rain; the deep and soft sound of approaching thunder was heard out of them; while flashes of lightning adorned their big and dark-blue tops, they were spreading over the sky, as if they embraced each other with their heads and arms gradually approaching. [126] Or 'rain-clouds, out of season and black.' The pun is in the word kâlamegha. 9. Like the shadows of mountains projected in the mirror of the sky, the black clouds appeared, diminishing like those the circumference of the horizon and occasioning darkness with their tops. 10. The rumbling noise of the thunderclaps now resounded around, inducing the peacocks to utter cries of gladness and to perform various dancing movements, as if they praised the clouds. These accessories together with the incessant illumination by lightning gave the effect of great merriness and laughter irradiating those cloud-masses. 11. Then the clouds let loose streams of rain, which fell down like pearls loosened from their shells. The dust subsided, and a strong smell extended itself, carried about by means of the wind which accompanied the thunder-shower. 12. The sun-rays, though their power had reached its highest degree because of the hot season, were now hidden, and currents of water ran down from the mountains, troubling their banks with the rows of foam which they deposited. 13. And it was as if the slender figure of Lightning, illuminating the firmament again and again with her gold-yellow light-appearances, performed her dances, rejoiced at the music of the cloud-instruments. Now, while the currents of palish water flowing to the lake from all sides were filling it, the crows and other birds had flown away at the very outset of the thunderstorm. The crowds of fishes recovering the hope of life, were much rejoiced. Yet the Bodhisattva, though his heart was pervaded with gladness, fearing lest the rain should cease, thus spoke to Par_g_anya again and again: 14. 'Roar, Par_g_anya, roar a roaring, loud and deep; dispel the joy of the crows, pouring out thy waters like jewels endowed with the flaming brilliancy of lightning, their companion[127].'