Upon hearing the account of his father’s tragic fate, Janamejaya’s resolve grew firm. He addressed his counselors, his voice steady and determined: “Now my mind is fixed. Listen to what I intend. Takshaka, that wicked serpent, must be dealt with next. He must be repaid, for it was he who caused my father’s death—using Shringin only as an instrument, he burned the king. It was Takshaka’s own evil that turned away Kashyapa, the Brahmin who could have saved my father. Had Kashyapa arrived, surely my father would have lived. What loss would Takshaka have suffered if the king had survived, thanks to Kashyapa’s favor and the guidance of the counselors? But, blinded by delusion, Takshaka turned away the excellent Brahmin, who had come to revive the undefeated king. This is a great transgression—Takshaka bribed Kashyapa so that my father would not be brought back to life.” Janamejaya continued, his words full of resolve: “To please Uttanka, 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 snake-sacrifice. Then, O Brahmin, O tiger among the Bharatas, Parikshit’s son summoned his priest and the officiating Brahmins. Janamejaya, skilled in speech, spoke to them with purpose: “That wicked Takshaka, who killed my father—tell me, how should I act toward him? Do you know by what means the serpent was responsible? I wish to cast Takshaka, along with his kin, into blazing fire—just as my father was burned by the serpent’s venomous fire, so too do I desire to burn that wicked serpent.” The priests replied, “O King, there is a great sacrificial rite, created by the gods for your sake, known in the Purāṇas as the ‘universal sacrifice.’ According to ancient tradition, you alone among men are qualified to perform this sacrifice; this rite is meant for us.” Thus addressed, Janamejaya believed that Takshaka would indeed be consumed, having entered the mouth of the blazing fire. He spoke to the Brahmins, “I will undertake that sacrifice—let the necessary materials be gathered for me.” The officiating priests, learned in the scriptures, measured out the place for the sacrifice, preparing the ground according to the prescribed rites. All the learned Vedic scholars, accomplished in supreme wisdom and endowed with great prosperity, assembled there, along with groups of Brahmins. Abundant with wealth and grain, well-served by officiating priests, they properly constructed the sacrificial altar as prescribed. Then they initiated the king for the completion of the serpent-sacrifice; and thus began the first event of the snake-sacrifice. At that time, a great omen arose, hindering the sacrifice. As the sacrificial ground was being prepared, a voice was heard. The master builder, wise and skilled in architecture, spoke, as did the architect, the charioteer, and the reciter of ancient lore: “In this place and at this time, since the measuring has begun with a Brahmin as the cause, this sacrifice will not be completed.” Hearing this, Janamejaya spoke before the time of initiation: “Let no one unknown to me enter here, O steward.” Then the work of the serpent-sacrifice began in earnest. The priests performed their respective duties according to proper rites. Clad in black garments, their eyes reddened with smoke, they offered oblations with mantras into the kindled fire. Shaking the minds of all serpents, they summoned all the snakes into the mouth of the fire. The serpents came together into the blazing sacrificial fire, writhing in distress and calling out to one another. They quivered, breathed heavily, and coiled around each other; with their tails and heads, they fiercely reached the radiant Bhanu. White, black, blue, old, and young—making various cries, they rushed into the blazing fire. The measure of Gokarna is a krosha in length; they fell ceaselessly with speed into the fire, O best among those endowed with fire. Thus, hundreds of thousands, tens of millions, and crores—helpless and destroyed—of serpents perished there. Some were like horses, others like elephants; intoxicated like mad elephants, with great bodies and immense strength. Many were tall and short, of various colors, full of venom; fierce as iron clubs, powerful snakes fell into the fire, struck by their mothers’ words and the rod. At the snake sacrifice of the wise Pandava king Janamejaya, the question arose: who were the officiating priests, O supreme sages? Who were the members present at the dreadful snake sacrifice, which caused the birth of poison and great fear among the serpents? “O father, you ought to describe everything in detail; who were the Sutas, knowledgeable in the procedures of the snake sacrifice?” Now, the names of the wise men who served as officiating priests and members for the king were revealed. The Hotṛ was the Brahmana Chandabhargava, renowned in the lineage of Cyavana, foremost among those versed in the Vedas. The Udgātṛ was the aged and learned Brahmana Kautsa, and Jaimini; Brahma was Shārngarava, and the Adhvaryu was Pingala. Thus, these wise and learned priests led the king’s great snake-sacrifice, fulfilling its rites as prescribed by tradition.