begins to set on Kinchinjunga's mighty crest. Siva has seized it as his own.
Suddenly upon some of the highest snow-peaks in the far distance there are flashes of crimson light—all creation seems to be ablaze and threatened with destruction. The clouds gather together in a thick clammy mist which quickly envelops mountain and valley, and covers the whole prospect with a dull pall of grey. It might seem for a moment as if the powers of darkness were gaining strength, and that the Dēvas were being worsted in the struggle. But presently the mist which enshrouds the mountains is parted in front of you as if by a magician's wand, and Kinchinjunga is revealed, glittering like silver in the morning sunshine, with a band of exquisite violet blue. Siva has drunk the poison which threatened the world's dissolution and become "blue-necked." Lakshmi has at last risen from the depths of darkness, bringing the divine nectar with her: the morning showers which greet her coming have cleared the air, and all nature rejoices once more at the defeat of the evil spirits of night, who disappear into the nether world.
Lakshmi in the myth is clearly the Vedic Ushas under another name. Vishnu's twofold aspect is distinctly drawn. At the beginning he is Nārāyana, the Eternal Being under the cosmic waters; at the end he is the Sun-god at whose bidding the lovely goddess of the day rises from the depths of darkness. The subject is often treated in Indian sculpture. In the monuments of the classic period now extant it is not often found, but at Sānchi we have seen Lakshmi transformed into Māyā, the mother of the Buddha. The rising of Lakshmi from the cosmic waves is very finely given in one of the superb granite sculptures
