Freed at last from the terrible burning, the Pandavas and their mother Kunti found shelter beneath a great tree. Still shaken by their ordeal, they wondered aloud which direction they should take, having just survived such supreme hardship. Bhima, his heart ablaze with anger, spoke bitterly to Duryodhana, though the Kaurava was not present: “Be content, foolish and shortsighted son of Dhritarashtra! Surely the gods favor you, for Yudhishthira did not permit me to act. He has granted you life, letting you escape death. Thus you live on, O wicked-minded one, with your sons, counselors, Karna, your brothers, and Saubala. Had I gone forth in my wrath, I would have sent you all to Yama’s abode. But what can I do, since our king Yudhishthira is displeased by such thoughts?” Yudhishthira, the righteous-souled and foremost of the Pandavas, heard these words from the mighty-armed Bhima, whose mind was seething with rage. But Yudhishthira did not approve of such violence and, in Bhima’s eyes, acted wrongly. Bhima, frustrated, crushed his own hand in his powerful grip, breathing heavily, his heart troubled. Sorrow again overtook him, and he seemed like a fire whose flames had been subdued. Looking around, Bhima saw his brothers lying on the bare earth, trusting and close together, sleeping as ordinary men do. He noticed a city not far from the edge of the forest and thought, “While they sleep, I must remain awake myself.” He resolved that after drinking water, his brothers would awaken, their fatigue gone, and so Bhima kept watch over them as they rested. While the Pandavas slept, not far away in the forest, a rakshasa named Hidimba took shelter under a shala tree. Hidimba was a cruel being, an eater of human flesh, endowed with great strength and prowess. He was dark as a rain cloud, with tawny, fierce eyes and a terrifying appearance—his face dreadful, with protruding fangs, sagging belly and buttocks, and a blood-red beard and hair. His massive shoulders were like tree trunks, and, by chance, he saw the Pandava brothers, those mighty chariot-warriors. Grotesque, with tawny eyes and a terrifying form, Hidimba was driven by hunger and the desire for flesh. He caught the scent of humans drifting through the air. Raising his fingers, scratching and shaking his coarse hair, he yawned wide with his huge mouth and looked around repeatedly. Delighted by the aroma of human flesh, his immense body quivered with anticipation. Inhaling deeply, he turned to his sister and said, “At last, today, a meal suitable and long awaited, pleasing to my mind, has appeared. As I sniff the air, my tongue, eager, extends from my mouth. With my eight sharp fangs, long and unendurable, I will sink them into their tender flesh. I will seize a human throat, cut the artery, and drink the warm, fresh, frothy blood in abundance.” He commanded his sister, “Go and find out who these are, lying in the forest. The strong scent of humans greatly satisfies my nose. Kill all of them and bring them to me; you need not fear those who sleep in our domain. Once we have torn their flesh as we wish, let us eat together. Fulfill my words completely. After we have eaten our fill of human flesh, we shall dance together, clapping our hands again and again.” Thus ordered by her brother Hidimba, Hidimbi did not hesitate. She leapt from tree to tree, swiftly making her way toward the Pandavas, arriving at the spot where they lay sleeping in the forest. There, she saw the Pandavas with Pritha, their mother, all asleep, except for Bhimasena, undefeated and vigilant. As she gazed upon the Parthas, Hidimbi saw their youth and handsomeness. Bhima, in particular, stood out—tall as a tree trunk, unmatched in beauty on earth. Her heart was stirred by longing. She saw the noble brothers, afflicted by sorrow, yet fierce and regal, and the prince, striking in appearance. Beholding Bhimasena—dark-skinned, broad-armed, lion-shouldered, radiant—Hidimbi’s mind was filled with desire. Concealing her true thoughts, she reflected, “Let my husband be one with a neck like a conch, lotus-eyed and worthy. I could never carry out my brother’s cruel command. A wife’s affection for her husband is stronger than any bond with a brother. Even my own guardian’s care brings only momentary satisfaction. I will rejoice for countless years, having neither killed these men nor been killed by them.” Thus resolved, Hidimbi gazed upon mighty Bhima and made her decision. Abandoning her rakshasa form, she assumed the appearance of a beautiful human woman. The shape-shifter, overcome by desire, fashioned herself accordingly. She approached Bhimasena, flawless and skilled in gestures and expressions, drawing near slowly and quietly. Adorned with divine ornaments, she moved gracefully, like a bending vine. Bhima, too, was drawn to her as she came near. He saw before him a slender woman with full breasts, a moon-like face, lotus eyes, dark complexion, and curling hair. Her teeth were bright white, her lips red as the bimba fruit—her beauty was astonishing. With charming manners and graceful smiles, she came close to Bhima, bowing as if in supplication. At the right moment, the radiant woman addressed Bhima, her head bowed in modesty, adorned with every ornament, and began to speak.