In ancient times, there was a vast and rugged forest, its expanse stretching for many yojanas. Mountain slopes rose steeply, sunlight scattered in shafts across the rough terrain, but there was no water to be found, nor any sign of human habitation. Into this wild domain, teeming with fierce deer, lions, and untamed creatures, entered Duṣyanta—the tiger among men—accompanied by his loyal servants, a formidable army, and his many vehicles. Duṣyanta began to roam through the wilderness, hunting with skill and vigor. He brought down many beasts, his arrows finding their mark in the tigers that crossed his path. Some he struck from afar with his shafts, while others, drawing closer, met his sharp sword. Masterful with the spear, he felled deer with precision. Tireless and courageous, he wielded javelins, swords, maces, and clubs, displaying his prowess in every weapon. As he moved through the forest, Duṣyanta struck down wild animals and birds, joined by his warriors who delighted in the thrill of battle. Under his might, the great forest was thrown into turmoil. The lords of the animal herds fell, and the rest scattered in fear, their leaders slain. Herds of deer, agitated and desperate, called out as they fled, seeking relief at dried-up riverbeds, their bodies weakened by thirst. Exhausted and overwhelmed, many creatures collapsed senseless to the ground, stricken by hunger and fatigue. Some, preyed upon by fierce, hungry men, were devoured; others, kindling fire by friction, managed to survive the harsh conditions. The hunters roasted and ate the flesh of their quarry, sustaining themselves in the wild. Even mighty elephants, powerful and intoxicated, were wounded by weapons. Terrified, they drew in their trunks and fled, leaving behind trails of blood, dung, and urine. In their panic, some wild noble elephants turned on the hunters, killing many men. The forest, now echoing with the tumult of battle, seemed as if covered by a cloudburst—arrows raining down like a storm, animals fleeing, and the king standing as the new master of the wilderness. After slaying thousands of animals in this way, Duṣyanta, with his army and vehicles, came upon another forest, dense and mysterious, like a great cloud on the horizon. This place, frequented by Siddhas and Caranas, lay two yojanas from the city. Still pursuing his quarry, the king pressed on, though the chase had wearied him. Urging his horses forward, Duṣyanta entered yet another forest. Alone now, his strength immense but his body afflicted by hunger, thirst, and exhaustion, he reached the end of the wilds and found himself in a vast, empty expanse. Moving beyond this, the king’s eyes fell upon a place adorned with splendid hermitages—delightful to the mind and exceedingly pleasing to behold. A cool breeze greeted him as he entered a great forest thick with blossoming trees and lush, pleasant meadows. The air was alive with the sweet calls of birds and the melodious cries of cuckoos, while hosts of crickets added their own music. The forest was covered with trees whose spreading branches offered pleasant shade, the ground alive with swarms of bees, and the whole scene radiant with beauty. Every tree seemed to overflow with flowers or fruit, though some had thorns, and many were adorned with bees. The air rang with birdsong, and the blossoming trees offered cooling shade in every season. Delighted, Duṣyanta entered this wondrous forest, where the wind played among flowering branches, and the trees showered him with a rain of blossoms. Their crowns touched the sky, and their boughs resounded with the sweet voices of birds. The trees themselves shone, clothed in varied and beautiful flowers, their tender shoots bending under the weight of blossoms as birds gathered upon them. Bees, drawn by the fragrance and honey, sang sweetly among the flowers. Everywhere Duṣyanta looked, he saw heaps of flowers and bowers of creepers, their beauty filling his heart with joy. The forest gleamed with intertwined branches, their flowering tips resembling Indra’s banners. It was a place frequented by hosts of Siddhas and Caranas, as well as Gandharvas, Apsarases, intoxicated monkeys, and Kinnaras. A gentle, cool, and fragrant breeze, laden with pollen, drifted through the trees as if moved by longing. Duṣyanta beheld this forest, with its lovely riverbanks rising like banners, and marveled at its beauty. As he gazed upon the jubilant birds, his eyes fell upon a foremost hermitage—beautiful, serene, and delightful. It was thick with various trees and bright with sacred fires, a matchless and splendid retreat that he honored with reverence. Within, ascetics and Valakhilyas dwelled, joined by groups of sages. Fire-altars, spread with beds of flowers, stood in abundance. The hermitage was radiant with great and tall trees, garlanded all around, and nearby flowed a holy river with pleasant, clear waters. The place was alive with many kinds of birds, wild animals, and herds, filling Duṣyanta with delight. This unrivaled and splendid hermitage, enchanting in every way and resembling the realm of the gods, drew Duṣyanta near. He saw the river, joined to the hermitage and filled with sacred waters, standing there like a nurturing mother to all living beings.