Those who had once seized the Kuru realms and their wealth were brought under control by Pandu, the lion of Nagapura, and made to pay tribute. Seeing his strength and success, the assembled kings, ministers, citizens, and countryfolk all spoke with confidence and joy, their hearts full of hope for the future. As Pandu returned, Bhishma led all the people out to meet him. The residents of Nagapura, having traveled a long distance, joined in welcoming him back with honor. They beheld the land brimming with riches—treasures carried on many vehicles, jewels of every kind, both great and small. The Kauravas, together with Bhishma, saw endless wealth: elephants, horses, chariots, cows, camels, and sheep, all gathered in abundance. Pandu, increasing the joy of his mother Kausalya, bowed humbly at his father’s feet and respectfully honored the citizens and countryfolk as was proper. Having subdued enemy kingdoms and fulfilled his purpose, Bhishma returned as well, and, embracing his victorious son, shed tears of joy. With the mighty sounds of hundreds of trumpets, conches, and drums, delighting all the citizens, Pandu entered Hastinapura in triumph. At Dhritarashtra’s permission, Pandu brought forth the wealth he had won by his own strength and offered it to Bhishma, Satyavati, and his mother. He also sent gifts to Vidura and satisfied his friends with riches. Pandu further gratified Satyavati, Bhishma, and the illustrious Kausalya with the fine treasures he had gained. His mother Kausalya rejoiced, embracing her son of incomparable energy, as Shachi would embrace Indra after victory. With Pandu’s heroic conquests and abundant gifts, Dhritarashtra was able to perform hundreds of grand horse sacrifices. Joined by Kunti and Madri, Pandu, ever tireless, chose to dwell in the forest. Leaving behind the comforts of palace life and luxurious beds, he lived always in the wilderness, devoted to the hunt. He roamed the southern slopes of the beautiful Himalayas, dwelling on mountain ridges and in great sal forests. In the forest, Pandu shone with Kunti and Madri beside him, like Indra among two she-elephants. The forest-dwellers, seeing the king armed with sword, bow, and arrows, clad in splendid armor and skilled in supreme weapons, living in the wild with his wives, thought, “This is a god.” At Dhritarashtra’s command, diligent men brought Pandu all his desires and pleasures, even at the edge of the forest. Then, as Pandu reached a great forest inhabited by beasts and predators, he saw the leader of a herd of deer engaged in mating. Without hesitation, Pandu loosed five swift, sharp arrows tipped with golden feathers, piercing both the stag and the doe. But the leader of the deer was no ordinary creature. He was a mighty ascetic, a sage’s son rich in austerity, who, with his wife, had taken the form of deer. As he lay joined with his mate, the sage uttered human speech; fallen to the ground, he cried out in agony. He spoke to Pandu, “Even those whose minds know better, when overcome by desire and anger, refrain from cruel deeds, though they may delight in sin. Law does not overpower wisdom, but law does overpower wisdom; the wise discern the misfortunes that come from the reversal of law. O Bharata, how has your mind wavered—you, born in a noble line devoted to righteousness—now overcome by desire and greed? “The way of killing enemies is said to be the same as the way of killing animals; O king, do not, out of delusion, reproach me as you would an animal. The killing of animals is accepted when done openly and without deceit; that same law applies to kings—so why do you reproach me? The sage Agastya, while conducting a sacrifice, hunted animals in the great forest, sprinkling them with sacred water as prescribed for all deities. By the standard of established law, why do you reproach us? By Agastya’s ritual, your act of killing us is sanctioned. “Men do not release arrows at enemies without cause; their vulnerability, especially at the right time, is praised for killing. Whether inattentive or attentive, whether exposed, they are struck down with force by various sharp means—so why, O king, do you reproach me? “O king of men, I do not reproach you for killing animals for your own sake; but you should have waited for the mating to be complete—here you have acted with cruelty. At a time when the welfare of all beings is sought, and when all beings desire it, what wise person would kill an animal engaged in mating in the forest? “O king, in this hunt, while I was joyfully engaged in mating, seeking the fruit of human purpose, you have rendered it fruitless. O great king, born in the line of the blameless Pauravas, O Kaurava, this act of yours is not fitting. This is a cruel deed, greatly condemned by all people, unworthy of heaven, infamous, and unrighteous, O Bharata. “You, who know the distinctions of enjoyment with women, and understand the truths of law, wealth, and desire from the scriptures, are not worthy, O one like the gods, to commit such an unheavenly act. Those who commit cruelty and sinful acts, O best of kings, should be restrained by you, being devoid of the three aims of life. “O best of men, what have I done, that you kill me here though I am innocent—a sage living on roots and fruits, wearing the form of a deer, O king?