So in the course of time, Gesar, the God-king, gave up his life in heaven and descended to earth in a hailstorm.  Luza, the king’s servant-girl, and her five animals—a mare, a cow, a ewe, a she-goat, and a bitch—were drenched and pelted with hailstones.  In due course each became big with young.

When Gesar was born, there were signs in the heavens and on the earth.  Rainbow colors fluttered in the sky and little golden flowers grew through the snows.  But the child himself seemed almost disfigured.  His mouth was unnaturally large, and he had ugly black eyes.  Luza was dismayed, and wrapped the baby in sackcloth instead of swaddling clothes.

Now all this time Akhu Trotung, the king’s brother and steward—the real power behind the throne—was watching these signs with distress.  The queen was also distraught.  She had come to hate Luza because of the king’s romantic interest in her.  So they conspired to be rid of the infant who might, in point of fact, be the long prophesied god-king, Gesar of Ling.  For while such a king might be good for Ling, under his authority, the steward could lose much of his power and income.

Playing on Luza’s generosity, they sent seven “mendicants” to her door.  But these paid impostors would accept neither tsampa flour nor butter, though these were offered to them on a golden platter.  “Give us Joru, give us the street-child,” they insisted.  “Let us teach it religion.”  And though Luza hesitated, finally she gave in.

But Maneney Gyalmo, queen of heaven, was alert to the death that awaited the child at the priests’ hands.  Already they had built up the tinder for a cremation.  Soon they would bind the child to the four strong stakes they were hammering into the ground.  Hastily she materialized before the startled mother.  “Luza, Luza, where is your darling, where is your son?” she cried.  Impelled by Maneney’s urgent voice, Luza raced out to reclaim her child.

The fire had already been set, and flames licked at the child’s heart.  Luza cried out in horror.  But a steady voice answered her cries.  “These four stakes are but a sign.  The four corners of Ling will bow to me.  This fire which warms my heart is flaming happiness.  Look, mother!”  So saying, the child broke free and ran into his mother’s arms.  Repentant, Luza carried her son home.  Now she was prepared to defend her son against the next attack Akhu Trotrung would devise.

As other children grow by years, so this child grew by days.  Soon he went up to the tuma-plain to gather bread-roots.