Hear now a sacred tale of the Cow, as told in the Atharva Veda. When the Brahmins approach the cow, each seeks his own benefit, yet the cow is held back, as though threatened by another’s conquest—this is her restraint. For three years she may move unnoticed, bearing a secret illness, until the Brahmins, guided by Narada, come to know her; then, at last, she draws near. The one who proclaims the cow as the treasure set apart for the gods is encircled by Bhava and Sharva, who both fix their gaze upon him. If any, ignorant of her udder or teats, yet desires to milk her, he may succeed if able, drawing milk from both. But the man who distances himself from her and withholds when asked, though he later wishes to give, finds his desires unfulfilled. In the beginning, the gods themselves asked for the cow, making the Brahmin her mouth. To all the gods, the Brahmin gave the cry "heḍa," but he did not give it to humankind. This cry he gave to the cattle, but the cow herself he entrusted to the Brahmins. If any mortal seizes the portion reserved for the gods, he earns no affection. If Brahmins request a hundred cows from the cattle owner, the gods declare, “Thus, the cow belongs to the wise.” But if one gives the cow to others, not to the wise, the earth and its deities bring him hardship. The gods desired the cow in whom she first appeared, and Narada, knowing her, raised her with the gods. The cow brings a man to want—without children and with few cattle—if, when asked by Brahmins, she is not given. For the sake of desire, Brahmins ask on behalf of Agni, Soma, Mitra, and Varuna; among these, the giver prospers. Let the owner of cattle wander among his cows until he hears this verse; once heard, he should not remain at home. If, after hearing, he still wanders among the cows, the gods, when invoked, remove his life and prosperity. The cow, ever wandering, is a treasure for the gods. She reveals her true form when her master intends to kill her. At that moment, she turns her thoughts toward being sought by the Brahmins. When a man forms this intention in his mind, he attains that goddess, and then the Brahmins come to her with requests. Through offerings to ancestors, sacrifices to the gods, and gifts, the Kshatriya approaches her power, yet does not incur his mother's reproach. The cow is called the mother of the Kshatriya, for she is born first. What is given to the Brahmins from her should never be withheld. Just as clarified butter is offered with ladles into Agni’s fire, so the fires draw forth the cow for the Brahmins, once she is given. Like a sacrificial cake, the cow stands in this world as a generous milker, fulfilling all desires. In Yama’s realm too, she grants all wishes; but for one who withholds when asked, a hellish fate is assured. Driven away, the cow moves angrily, thinking, “Let the one who drives me away be bound by the nooses of death.” Whoever slaughters or cooks the cow, thinking he drives her off, may find Brihaspati himself begging for his sons and grandsons. Great indeed is her heat; though she moves among the cows, she is truly a cow. Yet for the owner who mistreats her, only poison is drawn from her. What is given to the Brahmins becomes dear to cattle, and for the cow, what is offered to the gods is most precious. The gods fashioned the cows from the sacrifice, and from among them, Narada made a powerful ointment. The gods debated whether she should be enjoyed or not, and Narada declared her the most enjoyable of cows. Narada is asked, “How many cows among men do you know? Of which should a non-Brahmin not eat?” The answer is: the ointment-cow and the charioteer’s cow should not be eaten by a non-Brahmin who seeks prosperity. Homage is paid to Narada, knower of the cow’s rites, and it is asked, “Which cow is most terrible, whose giving would destroy the giver?” Again, it is said: the ointment-cow and the charioteer’s cow—let a non-Brahmin avoid her if he desires well-being. There are three kinds of cows: the ointment-cow, the charioteer’s cow, and the ordinary cow. These should be given to the Brahmins; thus, the giver is not excluded from Prajapati’s sacrifice. When asked, one should think, “Let this be your oblation, O Brahmins,” and give the most formidable cow in the house if requested. The gods once surrounded the cow of plenty, refusing to give her though praised; through these hymns she was broken, and so the seeker was defeated. But the one who broke her did not receive the cow of plenty, even though he pleaded with Indra; thus, the gods cut him off from the act, and I from those who followed. Those who flatter for the giving of the cow of plenty are cut off by Indra’s wrath, like a net ensnaring the foolish. Those who say, “Do not give the herdsman’s cow, drive him away,” are surrounded by Rudra’s weapons in their ignorance. Whether one cooks the offered or unoffered cow of plenty, or eats her himself, he, crooked in his rites, casts out gods, priests, and sacrificers from their worlds. Know then: the cow, created by toil and austerity, established by Brahman, stands firm in knowledge.