Every year, the people of Krishna's village held a huge festival of thanksgiving to the god, Indra, for sending rain. In the days before the festival, everyone was busy and no-one had time for Krishna. He went to speak to the elders of the village.

"What is this great festival all about?" he asked them.

"Without rain, the grass on the hillsides would not grow and our cattle would die," the elders replied.

"But rain falls naturally from the sky, " said Krishna. "What has Indra got to do with it?"

At first shocked, the elders began to accept what Krishna said. They cancelled the festival.

But Indra the god was angry.

"How dare those farmers, ignore me and listen instead to the words of a silly boy. I shall punish them."

He ordered a group of clouds to go immediately to the village, where they poured down rain. Thunder and lightning followed. Furious winds blew off the roofs of the houses. Hailstones clattered down. The whole village was flooded.

The elders came running to Krishna. "You must do something before Indra drowns us all."

Krishna was as calm as usual. He went to the foot of a nearby hill and effortlessly lifted it up. Then he said, "Friends and neighbours, come quickly. Shelter under this mountain from the wind and the rain."

For seven days, the villagers sheltered under the mountain held aloft by Krishna, who did not budge one inch.

Amazed by the boy's power, Indra withdrew the clouds and the rain stopped.

Krishna called his people out from under the mountain. Slowly they emerged, carrying their belongings. Krishna put the mountain back in its place.

All the people hugged Krishna and danced around him while the elders blessed him with their arms raised.