As the swift-moving sage Kāśyapa hurried along the road, the mighty serpent king Takṣaka suddenly appeared before him and addressed him with urgency: “Twice-born one, where are you going in such haste, and for what purpose?” Kāśyapa replied, “O best of serpents, I am on my way to the court of the noble Kuru king, Parikṣit, who is to be burned today by your venom. I go quickly to relieve him of his fever and suffering. If I am present, no serpent will be able to harm him.” Takṣaka, revealing his true identity, responded, “Why do you wish to revive the king after I have bitten him? I am Takṣaka, O Brahmin—behold my wondrous power!” To demonstrate, Takṣaka bit a nearby tree. Instantly, the tree was reduced to ashes by the serpent’s deadly poison. Yet, before Takṣaka’s eyes, Kāśyapa revived the tree, restoring it to life. Impressed and unsettled, Takṣaka sought to tempt the sage. “Tell me your desire,” he offered. Kāśyapa replied honestly, “I am going there desiring wealth.” Hearing this, Takṣaka spoke gently to the great-souled Brahmin, “Whatever wealth you seek from the king, take even more than that from me, O sinless one, and turn back.” Thus persuaded, Kāśyapa, best of men, accepted the wealth from Takṣaka and turned back from his journey. With the Brahmin gone, Takṣaka, through deceit, approached King Parikṣit, your righteous father, O Janamejaya. Though the king was well-guarded in his palace, Takṣaka burned him with the fire of his poison. After your father’s death, you, tiger among men, were consecrated as king. O best of kings, all this, as it was seen and heard, has been fully and terribly recounted to you. Now, having heard of your father’s fate, do what must be done for the sage Utanka. At that very moment, King Janamejaya, destroyer of foes, spoke to his ministers. “Who told of that wondrous event—the tree that became a heap of ashes, astonishing to the world, and was then revived by Kāśyapa after Takṣaka had bitten it? Surely, by his mantras, Kāśyapa destroyed the poison, and nothing perishes from his hands.” Meanwhile, the wicked-minded Takṣaka thought to himself, “If the Brahmin whom I have bitten revives the king, I, Takṣaka, will become an object of ridicule in the world.” Thus reflecting, he was satisfied to have turned Kāśyapa away. “By some means I will inflict suffering upon him,” Takṣaka mused, “but first I wish to hear in detail what happened in the lonely forest. Who among those present then saw or heard the conversation between the lord of serpents and Kāśyapa on the way? Having learned this, I will devise a plan for the destruction of the serpents.” Hear now, O King, how this was told to us. A certain man, seeking firewood, had climbed that very tree, full of dry branches. Neither Takṣaka nor Kāśyapa noticed the man in the tree, and when Takṣaka bit it, the tree and the man were both reduced to ashes. Yet, by the power of Kāśyapa, the tree was restored, and the event was reported by a man who came upon the scene. Thus, all that transpired between Takṣaka and the Brahmin has been told to you as it was seen and heard. Having learned this, O tiger among kings, act as is fitting. Hearing these words from his counselors, King Janamejaya was overwhelmed by grief. Pressing his hand to his mouth, the lotus-eyed king let out long, hot sighs. Tears welled in his eyes and fell as he wept for his father. Overcome with sorrow, he struggled to compose himself, then, after performing the prescribed purification, he spoke. After a moment’s reflection, the king, filled with indignation, addressed his counselors: “Having learned of my father’s fate, my resolve is firm—listen to my decision. Takṣaka, that wicked one, must be dealt with. He must be repaid for causing my father’s death, making Śṛṅgin only the instrument to burn the king. It was his wickedness that turned Kāśyapa away; had that Brahmin arrived, my father would surely have lived. What loss would there have been for Takṣaka if the king had survived, thanks to Kāśyapa’s favor and your guidance? But out of delusion, he turned away the excellent Brahmin. This is a great transgression—he gave wealth to the Brahmin so the king would not be revived. To please Utanka, to do a great service for myself and for all of you, I will perform the funeral rites for my father.” Having spoken thus, the illustrious king, supported by his counselors, took up the vow to perform the great snake-sacrifice. Then, O Brahmin, O tiger among the Bharatas, King Parikṣit’s son summoned his priest and the officiating Brahmins. With skillful words, he declared his intent: “That wicked Takṣaka, who killed my father…” Thus began Janamejaya’s resolve to avenge his father and fulfill his duty.