Vasiṣṭha, the revered sage, spoke gently to his wish-fulfilling cow, Shabala: “I do not abandon you, Shabala, nor have you done me any wrong. But this mighty king, Viśvāmitra, is taking you from me by force. My strength is not equal to the king’s, especially today. He is powerful, a Kṣatriya, and lord of the earth. His vast army, crowded with elephants, horses, and chariots, bristling with banners, makes him even stronger.” Hearing these words, Shabala, skilled in speech and humble before the illustrious Brahmarṣi, replied, “O Brahman, it is not said that the strength of a Kṣatriya is greater; the divine power of Brahmanic strength surpasses that of Kṣatriyas. Your strength is immeasurable. Even Viśvāmitra, though mighty, is not stronger than you—your energy cannot be assailed. Command me, O great-splendored one, endowed with Brahmanic power. I shall destroy the pride, strength, and effort of that wicked one.” Thus addressed, the renowned Vasiṣṭha said to her, “Release your power, destroyer of enemy forces.” At his command, Surabhi, the wish-fulfilling cow, bellowed mightily and, by her divine power, produced hundreds of Pahlavas before the king. These fierce warriors attacked and destroyed Viśvāmitra’s army before his very eyes. Enraged, the king, his eyes blazing with fury, retaliated, destroying the Pahlavas with all manner of weapons. But when Shabala saw her creations afflicted by Viśvāmitra, she produced again, this time summoning fierce Śakas mixed with Yavanas. The earth was suddenly covered with these radiant warriors, mighty as golden filaments, armed with sharp swords and spears, their garments shining like gold. The invading army was consumed as if by blazing fires. But Viśvāmitra, mighty and relentless, unleashed his own weapons, and by their power the Yavanas, Kambojas, and Barbaras were thrown into confusion. Seeing the confusion and distress among the warriors she had created, Vasiṣṭha urged the wish-fulfilling cow to create again by her yogic power. From her bellowing were born Kambojas, radiant as the sun; from her udder emerged Barbaras, armed for battle. From her womb came the Yavanas, and from her excrement the Śakas arose. In her hair follicles appeared the Mlecchas, the Hāritas, and the Kirātas. These multitudes, fierce and powerful, instantly destroyed all of Viśvāmitra’s forces—elephants, horses, chariots, all perished. Seeing his army struck down by the great-souled Vasiṣṭha, Viśvāmitra’s hundred sons, armed with various weapons, rushed forward in fury. But Vasiṣṭha, foremost among mantra-knowers, was now exceedingly enraged. Advancing upon them, he released a mere roar, and in an instant, all of Viśvāmitra’s sons, with their horses, chariots, and foot soldiers, were reduced to ashes. Witnessing the destruction of his entire force, the illustrious Viśvāmitra was seized by shame and deep thought. He seemed like the ocean bereft of its waves, a serpent with broken fangs, or the sun suddenly eclipsed—his brilliance was gone. Deprived of sons and strength, dejected like a bird with clipped wings, all his power and enthusiasm vanished, and he fell into despair. In his grief, Viśvāmitra appointed one remaining son to rule the kingdom, instructing him to govern the earth according to the duty of a Kṣatriya. Then, renouncing everything, he departed for the forest. He journeyed to the slopes of the Himālayas, a region frequented by Kinnaras and serpents, and there undertook severe austerities, seeking the favor of Mahādeva. After some time, the great lord of the gods, the bull-bannered Śiva, appeared before Viśvāmitra, ready to grant him a boon. “For what purpose do you practice such austerities, O king?” asked Mahādeva. “Speak what you desire. I am the giver of boons—let your wish be declared.” Bowing before the god, the great ascetic Viśvāmitra replied, “If you are pleased, O sinless Mahādeva, grant me the knowledge of the science of archery, with all its branches, sub-branches, Upaniṣads, and secrets. May all the weapons known among the gods, Dānavas, great sages, Gandharvas, Yakṣas, and Rākṣasas become manifest to me, O sinless one. By your grace, O god of gods, may my wish be fulfilled.” Śiva replied, “So be it,” and then departed. Having received these divine weapons from the lord of the gods, Viśvāmitra was filled with great pride. His power grew like the ocean swelling at the full moon, and at that moment, O Rāma, he considered the eminent sage Vasiṣṭha as already vanquished. Returning to the hermitage, Viśvāmitra unleashed his newly gained weapons, and by their power, the sacred forest of ascetics, known as Tapovana, was set ablaze. Seeing the weapon rise up, hundreds of terrified sages fled in all directions. Vasiṣṭha’s disciples, as well as the deer and birds, panic-stricken, scattered by the thousands. For a moment, the hermitage of the great-souled Vasiṣṭha became empty and silent, resembling a desolate reed field. But as fear spread, Vasiṣṭha called out again and again, “Do not fear.” With calm assurance, he declared, “Today I will destroy the son of Gādhi, just as the sun dispels the mist.