Among the great and ancient lineages of serpents, there were many whose names shone with renown. Among them were Ashtavakra, Komalaka, Shvasana, Maunavepaga, Bhairava, Mundavedanga, Pishanga, Udaparaka, Rishabha, Vegavan, Pindaraka, and Mahahanu. Along with them were Raktanga, Sarvasaranga, Samriddhapatavasa, Varahaka, Viranaka, Suchitra, and Citravegika. And still others: Parashara, Tarunaka, Mani, Skandha, and Aruni. These, O Brahmin, are some of the foremost serpents whose fame spread far and wide. Yet, because their numbers were so vast, not all could be named—only the principal ones, together with their offspring and descendants, are mentioned here. Indeed, it would be impossible to count the multitude of serpents who entered the blazing fire during the great sacrifice—some with two heads, others with five, seven, ten, a hundred, and even more, with countless heads. These were beings of dreadful might—terrible as the fires of destruction, as deadly as poison—numbering in the hundreds of thousands. They were immense in size, swift in motion, and towered like mountain peaks. Their bodies stretched a yojana in length and two in breadth; they could assume any form at will and possessed strength as they wished, blazing with fierce fire and venom. All these serpents were consumed in the great sacrifice, struck down by the inexorable rod of Brahma. Now, listen to another wondrous tale about the sage Astika. When King Parikshit’s son, Janamejaya, was granting boons freely to those assembled, a remarkable event occurred. The serpent Takshaka, who had been grasped by Indra, remained suspended in the sky, neither falling nor escaping, and King Janamejaya was filled with anxious thoughts. Though the sacrifice was performed with great fervor and proper rites, Takshaka, terrified and desperate, did not fall into the fire as the other serpents had. O Suta, the sages wondered: why, despite the presence of so many wise Brahmins and their powerful mantras, did Takshaka not fall into the sacrificial flames? At that moment, Astika, seeing Takshaka terrified and senseless, hanging from Indra’s hand, called out three times to the best of serpents: “Stop! Stop! Stop!” Takshaka remained suspended in the air, his heart torn with distress, like a man caught between earth and sky. Urged by the assembly, King Janamejaya spoke: “Let it be as Astika has said. Let this rite be completed; let the serpents be comforted; let Astika be pleased; let the Suta’s words be fulfilled.” At that, a great cry of joy arose from the assembly, and the sacrifice ceased at once. Thus the great serpent sacrifice of King Parikshit’s son came to an end, and King Janamejaya, of the Bharata lineage, was filled with joy. He bestowed wealth upon the priests and all who had gathered there, giving gifts in hundreds and thousands. To the red-eyed Suta and the architect—who had spoken before about ending the sacrifice—the mighty king gave further gifts. To the Brahmin who had been the cause of it all, he gave abundant wealth, and distributed food and clothing as was proper. Pleased and satisfied, the king performed the concluding bath as prescribed by the rites. Then, with a joyful and contented mind, he sent Astika, the wise and accomplished one, back to his home, saying, “You must return again, for you shall be a participant in my great horse sacrifice.” Astika, having achieved his unparalleled task and pleased the king, departed joyfully. He returned, delighted, to his maternal uncle and mother, embraced them, and recounted all that had happened. Hearing of these events, all the assembled serpents, now freed from destruction, were filled with gratitude towards Astika. They said, “Choose a boon as you wish.” Again and again, they repeated, “O wise one, what can we do for you today that will please you? We are delighted and all have been freed; tell us, dear child, what we may do for you.” Astika replied, “Let there be no fear from you for those Brahmins and pure-minded men—and indeed, for all others in the world—who recite this account of righteousness of mine, in the morning and evening.” The delighted serpents agreed, saying, “So be it! This boon is granted to you in truth. Out of affection, we are ready to do whatever you desire, O nephew.” Astika added, “Whoever remembers Asita, Ārtimant, and Sunītha, whether by day or night, shall have no fear of serpents. O serpents, remember Āstīka, born of Jaratkāru, who protected you at the serpent sacrifice—remembering him, O blessed ones, you must not harm me. O serpent, withdraw, blessings to you; go away, great venomous one. At the end of Janamejaya’s sacrifice, remember the words of Āstīka.” He further declared, “Any serpent who, after hearing the words of Āstīka, does not turn back, his head will split into a hundred pieces like the fruit of the Śiṃśapā tree.” Thus addressed by the assembled foremost serpents, the best of the twice-born, Astika, was greatly satisfied and prepared to depart. The king of the nāgas, too, having spoken thus among the serpents, returned to his own abode with his kin. Having freed the serpents from destruction, the righteous-souled sage Astika, surrounded by sons and grandsons, eventually attained his end in due course. Thus, I have recounted to you the story of Astika as it happened. By reciting this tale, there is nowhere any fear from serpents. Just as your ancestor Pramati told this to his son Ruru when asked, O best of the Bhargavas, so have I narrated it to you. What I have heard, I have faithfully recounted—the glorious story of the sage Astika, from beginning to end.