With a heart burdened by duty, I wandered the land, holding firm to the thought that a twice-born should not fall into despair while carrying out his responsibilities. I searched far and wide, longing for pure and righteous gifts, free from any fault, hoping to find someone who would offer the simple gift of milk. Yet, despite my efforts, I could not find a single giver. In my desperation, I mixed water with flour and offered it to my son, tempting him with this humble substitute. The innocent boy drank the flour-water, believing in his childish delight that he too had tasted milk. Overjoyed and deceived by his own innocence, he rose up and danced gleefully, surrounded by other boys, thinking himself as fortunate as any of them. Watching this scene, shame and sorrow filled my heart. I thought, “Fie upon Droṇa, who, though alive, cannot provide wealth for his family! Whose son, longing for milk, must rejoice after drinking mere flour-water, believing he has had milk?” As these words echoed among the people, my mind was shaken and I blamed myself deeply. Moreover, I remembered that I, once shunned and reproached by Brahmins, should not, out of greed for wealth, stoop to the sinful service of others. Resolving thus, I took my beloved son, Bhishma, and, moved by old affection and attachment, set out with my wife to Saumaki. When I heard that my dear friend had been anointed king, I felt my purpose was fulfilled. Pleased at heart, I approached him, recalling our past friendship and the words we had once exchanged. I went to Drupada, O lord, as a friend from earlier days, and with warmth I said, “O best of men, know me to be your friend.” I approached Drupada, seeking to rekindle our bond. But Drupada laughed at me as if I were a stranger, and said, “Your understanding, O Brahmin, is not appropriate. When you claimed friendship with me, remember that relationships fade as time passes and people grow old. Once, our friendship was based on equal standing; but a man without learning is not the friend of a learned one, nor is a charioteerless man the friend of a charioteer. Friendship only arises from equality, never from inequality. In this world, no friendship lasts forever. Desire enjoys it, anger abandons it. Do not cling to this worn-out friendship, which you made for your own need. Our bond was once based on necessity; the poor are not friends of the rich, nor the unlearned of the learned. A coward is not the friend of a hero, nor do powerful kings befriend such men. Friendship arises among the dull, the deprived, and the unfortunate. A non-learned man is not the friend of the learned, nor is a charioteerless man the friend of a charioteer. A non-king is not the friend of a king, nor do kings make such agreements for the sake of the kingdom. O Brahmin, I can give you food for one night, if you wish.” Thus rebuffed by Drupada, I departed with my wife, my resolve hardening to fulfill my vow. Anger filled me at his words, and I journeyed to the Kurus, accompanied by capable and virtuous disciples, seeking to fulfill my desire. Arriving in the splendid city of the Nagas, I addressed Bhishma: “Tell me, what shall I do for you? Let a bow be made that cannot be broken; let excellent weapons be provided; enjoy great pleasures, honored in Kurukshetra. All the wealth of the Kurus and the entire kingdom with its provinces are yours. You alone are the supreme king; all obey your command. Whatever you have requested, O Brahmin, has been accomplished. By fortune you have arrived, O sage among Brahmins, and a great favor has been done to me.” Bhishma, pleased, accepted me as teacher, along with the sons of Pandu, and brought his grandsons and many treasures. The king formally gave his grandsons to me as disciples, and I spoke to Bhishma, the wisest of the wise: “Kripa remains as teacher, skilled in weapons and honored by the learned, but if I, a Brahmin, stay here, I may become disheartened. Having received a little from you and wealth with joy, O king, I will return to my hermitage as I came.” Bhishma, foremost among warriors, replied, “Let Kripa ever remain honored and cared for by me; but you, O Drona, be the teacher of my grandsons. You are esteemed by me as their instructor. Accept these sons, skilled in arms, and always train them.” Thus honored by Bhishma, I dwelled in the palace, revered and resplendent. After I had rested, Bhishma brought the grandsons of the Kurus and gave them to me as disciples, along with many treasures. The lord, well pleased, gave to me, Bharadvaja’s son, a well-furnished house filled with wealth and grain. With gladness, I accepted the Kaurava princes as my disciples—the sons of Pandu and Dhritarashtra alike. When all had assembled, I addressed them privately and with confidence: “There is something I desire, which turns in my heart. Since you have mastered weapons, that should be given to me—so speak, O sinless ones.