In the depths of the wild and untamed forest, some unfortunate souls met their end, devoured by fierce, ravenous men as savage as tigers. Yet others, more resourceful, managed to survive by kindling fire through friction, carving out their existence amid the wilderness. At that time, those who endured roasted and ate flesh, carefully prepared over their hard-won fires. The forest, meanwhile, echoed with chaos: mighty elephants, intoxicated and powerful, some wounded by weapons, became frightened. Drawing in their trunks, they fled in terror, leaving behind trails of dung, urine, and blood. The noble wild elephants, in their panic, trampled and killed many men. The forest itself seemed to be under siege, as if a mass of clouds were pouring down a shower of arrows. Amidst this tumult, animals filled every corner, and the lord of beasts was slain by the king, marking his dominance over the wild. Having slain thousands of creatures, the king, with his army and vehicles, beheld a forest as dense and dark as a thundercloud, a place frequented by Siddhas and Caranas—beings of spiritual accomplishment and celestial minstrels. The king gazed upon this mysterious forest, situated two yojanas from the city, his body weary from the relentless pursuit of game. But his desire for the hunt was undiminished. Urging his horses onward with speed, the king pressed deeper into the wilderness, entering yet another forest. Alone now, possessed of great strength but afflicted by hunger, thirst, and exhaustion, he pressed on until he reached the edge of the forest, only to find himself in a vast, empty expanse. Undeterred, he continued beyond this emptiness, coming at last upon a place adorned with excellent hermitages—a scene delightful to the mind and exceedingly pleasing to the eye. Cool breezes refreshed him as he wandered into another great forest, thickly strewn with blossoming trees and lush, pleasant meadows. This forest was vast, alive with the sweet calls of birds and the melodious cries of male cuckoos, and filled with the constant chirping of crickets. Trees with spreading branches offered pleasant shade, their grounds abuzz with swarms of bees, and the entire scene glowed with supreme beauty. Not a single tree lacked flowers, fruit, or even thorns; yet none were without the gentle presence of bees. The air resounded with birdcalls, and the forest was adorned with trees blossoming in every season, their branches offering cool, inviting shade. The king, mighty of arm, entered this delightful and excellent forest, where the wind played among the flowering branches. Everywhere, the trees showered wondrous rains of blossoms, their crowns touching the sky, while birds filled the air with their sweet voices. The trees shone, clothed in varied and beautiful flowers. Birds flocked to their tender shoots, which bent under the weight of blossoms. Bees, drawn by the promise of honey, sang sweet songs among the flower-laden branches. The king beheld many places adorned with heaps of flowers, surrounded by bowers of creepers that delighted the heart. Filled with radiance and joy, he marveled at it all. The forest glimmered with intertwined, flowering branches, resembling the banners of mighty Indra. It was a realm frequented by Siddhas and Caranas, Gandharvas and Apsarases, as well as intoxicated monkeys and Kinnaras. A gentle, cool, and fragrant breeze, heavy with pollen, drifted through the trees as though the forest itself longed for something. The king beheld this wondrous forest, graced with riverbanks that rose like banners, and filled with jubilant birds. As he wandered, he came upon a beautiful and delightful hermitage, the foremost among its kind. Thick with various trees and blazing with sacred fires, this matchless and splendid hermitage inspired his reverence. Within, ascetics and Valakhilyas moved about, accompanied by groups of sages. Many fire-altars, spread with beds of flowers, marked the sacred ground. Tall and mighty trees surrounded the hermitage, and a holy river with pleasant waters flowed nearby, garlanding the place with purity. The hermitage, crowded with many kinds of birds and wild animals, delighted the king as he took in the harmonious scene. It was unrivaled in splendor, enchanting in every way, and seemed to rival the very realms of the gods. The river, joined to the hermitage and filled with sacred waters, stood like a nurturing mother to all living beings. Its sandbanks, frequented by chakravaka birds, were adorned with flowers and foam, while elephants, bears, and kinnaras made their home along its banks. The air resounded with the auspicious recitation of sacred texts, and the riverbanks bustled with intoxicated elephants, tigers, and mighty serpents. On its shore stood the splendid hermitage of the venerable and great-souled Kashyapa, attended by groups of illustrious sages. Beholding the hermitage nestled beside the river, the king resolved to enter this sacred place. The island of Malini, with its delightful banks, adorned the area, and the abode of Nara and Narayana shone forth, radiant as the Ganga herself. Entering the great forest, alive with the cries of intoxicated peacocks, the king, that bull among men, approached a place as wondrous as Chaitraratha, the celestial garden. Endowed with great qualities and indescribable brilliance, he went to seek the sage Kashyapa and the ascetic Kanva. He stationed his army—crowded with horses, foot soldiers, and elephants—at the forest’s edge, instructing them, “I will go to see the sage, pure and ascetic, Kashyapa. Remain here until I return.” Having reached that forest, which resembled the divine Nandana grove, the lord of men cast off his hunger and thirst, and was filled with great joy.