King Viśvāmitra, driven by intense desire, approached Sage Vasiṣṭha and requested the sacred cow, Śabalā. Vasiṣṭha, firm and resolute, replied, “For many reasons, O king, I will not give you Śabalā.” Undeterred, Viśvāmitra, master of persuasive speech, offered riches beyond imagination. “I will give you elephants adorned with golden chains and golden goads, their necks encircled with collars of gold,” he said, his eagerness growing. He continued, “I will give you fourteen thousand such golden elephants, and chariots made of gold, drawn by four white horses. I will give you eight hundred horses, adorned with tinkling bells, born of noble lineage and great strength, and one thousand and ten more, all for you, O steadfast one. I will give you a crore of cows, of various colors and ages; let the spotted one be given to me. As many jewels or as much gold as you desire, O best of twice-born, I will give you all that; let the spotted one be given to me.” Despite these lavish offers, the wise Viśvāmitra pleaded in vain. Vasiṣṭha, venerable and steadfast, replied, “I will not give you the spotted one under any circumstance, O king. This alone is my treasure, this alone is my wealth; this alone is my everything, this alone is my very life. The new and full moon sacrifices, and all the rites duly performed—these alone are mine, O king, as are the various other rituals. All my rites depend upon her, O king, there is no doubt; why speak at length? I will not give up the wish-fulfilling cow.” When Vasiṣṭha refused to part with Kāmadhenu, Viśvāmitra, unable to accept defeat, forcefully began to drag away the spotted cow. Śabalā, distressed and weeping, pondered her sorrow as she was led away by the king’s men. “Abandoned by the supremely noble Vasiṣṭha, why am I, so miserable, being led away by the king’s men, filled with great grief?” she wondered. “What wrong have I done to that great-souled sage, that he, seeing me innocent and devoted, abandons me, though he is righteous?” Overcome with anguish, Śabalā sighed again and again, then swiftly broke free from the king’s men and rushed like the wind to Vasiṣṭha’s feet. Standing before the sage, her voice resounding like thunderclouds, she cried, “O venerable one, son of Brahmā, why have you abandoned me, that the king’s soldiers are taking me away from your presence?” Vasiṣṭha, compassionate as if to a grieving sister, reassured her, “I do not abandon you, Shabala, nor have you done me any wrong; but this mighty king is taking you from me by force. My strength is not equal to the king’s, especially today; the king is powerful, a Kshatriya, and lord of the earth. This full army, crowded with elephants, horses, and chariots, bristling with banners, makes him even stronger.” Śabalā, skilled in speech, humbly replied, “They do not say that the strength of a Kshatriya is greater; O Brahman, the divine power of Brahmanic strength surpasses that of Kshatriyas. Your strength is immeasurable; Viśvāmitra, though of great might, is not stronger than you—your energy is unassailable. Command me, O great-splendored one, endowed with Brahmanic power; I shall destroy the pride, strength, and effort of that wicked one.” Vasiṣṭha, renowned and resolute, then said, “Release your power, destroyer of enemy forces.” Hearing his words, Surabhi—the wish-fulfilling cow—bellowed, and from her arose hundreds of Pahlavas. These warriors destroyed all of Viśvāmitra’s army before his eyes. Enraged, Viśvāmitra’s eyes blazed with fury as he destroyed the Pahlavas with weapons, great and small. Seeing the Pahlavas afflicted, Surabhi produced fierce Shakas mixed with Yavanas, covering the earth. Radiant, mighty, resembling golden filaments, armed with sharp swords and spears, clad in golden garments, they consumed the entire army like blazing fires. Viśvāmitra unleashed his weapons, throwing the Yavanas, Kambojas, and Barbaras into confusion. Witnessing this chaos, Vasiṣṭha urged Śabalā to create by her yogic power. From her bellowing were born radiant Kambojas; from her udder emerged Barbaras, armed with weapons. From the region of wombs came the Yavanas; from the land of excrement, the Śakas; in her hair follicles dwelled the Mlecchas, the Hāritas, and the Kirātas. By the power of Śabalā, all of Viśvāmitra’s forces were destroyed in an instant—elephants, horses, and chariots alike. Seeing his army struck down by the great-souled Vasiṣṭha, a hundred sons of Viśvāmitra, bearing various weapons, advanced, determined to confront the sage.