With a gentle and welcoming smile, Hiḍimbī addressed Bhīmasena, saying, “From where have you come, and who are you, O best of men?” Her gaze moved to the sleeping figures nearby. “Who are these men lying here, who resemble gods? And who is this tall, dark, delicate woman with you, O faultless one?” she asked, her curiosity genuine. She continued, her tone growing more earnest, “She lies here in this forest as if she were in her own home, but you do not know that this dense wilderness is frequented by rakshasas.” Then, with a note of warning, she revealed, “Here dwells the wicked-hearted rakshasa named Hiḍimba.” With honesty, Hiḍimbī confessed, “Sent by my brother, the rakshasa, with evil intent, I was ordered to seize your flesh for him to devour. But upon seeing you, radiant as one born of the gods, I desire no other husband. This is the truth I speak to you.” Her voice trembled with longing as she pleaded, “Knowing this, O righteous one, act rightly toward me; my mind is overcome by desire—accept me, who seeks you.” She promised, “I will protect you, mighty-armed one, from the man-eating rakshasa. Let us dwell together in the mountain fastnesses—be my husband, O faultless one.” Her heart laid bare, she implored, “O hero, I wish for your welfare—do not abandon my life! For if I am forsaken by you, O subduer of enemies, I cannot live.” Hiḍimbī then spoke of her powers, “I move through the sky and wander as I please; attain incomparable joy with me here and there.” Yet, with humility, she added, “This is my elder brother, worthy of honor and the highest reverence; since he is present, I cannot act against propriety in any way.” Bhīmasena replied with firm resolve, “Who today, O powerful rakshasi, would abandon mother, elder brother, younger brothers, or others? Who, like me, driven by desire, would leave his sleeping brothers to be eaten by rakshasas, and his mother as well?” He declared, “I will save only you together with my mother, O scorcher of foes; do not abandon your brothers—climb onto my hip.” But then, his voice steady, he said, “I do not hope to live, O rakshasi, after abandoning my brothers; go as you wish, for you speak what is displeasing to me.” Seeing her distress, Bhīmasena softened, “Whatever you desire, that I will do; awaken all of them, and I will surely rescue them from the man-eating rakshasa.” Yet he added, “O rakshasi, I will not awaken my brothers and mother, who sleep peacefully in the forest, out of fear of your evil-hearted brother.” With confidence, Bhīmasena assured her, “O timid one with lovely eyes, the rakshasas, nor men, nor gandharvas, nor yakshas are able to withstand my might. Go or stay, O gentle one, or do whatever you wish; or send that man-eating brother of yours, slender-waisted one.” Meanwhile, Hiḍimba, lord of the rakshasas, noticed that his sister had been gone a long time. Descending swiftly from the tree, he approached the Pāṇḍavas. His appearance was terrifying—red-eyed, mighty-armed, his hair bristling, his mouth huge and gaping, massive as a bank of storm clouds, with sharp fangs and a dreadful visage. He struck his palms together, brandished his arms, his eyes bulging in rage, and ground his teeth in fury. “Who is this fool today who hinders me as I seek to eat?” he roared. “Hiḍimbī does not fear, yet she was sent—why has she not returned?” As Hiḍimba rushed toward them, dreadful to behold, Hiḍimbī, terrified, turned to Bhīmasena and said, “He is coming, wicked-hearted, enraged, the man-eater; therefore, do as I say, together with your brothers.” She urged, “I am able to move at will, O hero, endowed with rakshasa power; climb onto my hip and I will carry you through the sky. Awaken these who are sleeping, and your mother as well, O scorcher of foes; I will take you all and depart through the sky.” But Bhīmasena replied reassuringly, “Do not be afraid, broad-hipped one, as long as I am here; I will slay this one before your very eyes, slender-waisted lady. This wretch among the rakshasas, timid one, is not strong enough to withstand my force in battle, nor are all the rakshasas together. Behold my arms, well-formed and like the trunks of elephants; my thighs, resembling iron clubs, and my great, compact chest. Today, O lovely one, you will see my prowess, equal to Indra’s; do not underestimate me, broad-hipped lady, thinking me to be merely human.” Hiḍimbī replied with respect, “Tiger among men, I do not underestimate you, who resemble a god; but among humans, I have seen the power of this rakshasa.” As Bhīmasena spoke thus, the enraged rakshasa Hiḍimba, the man-eater, heard his words. Observing his sister, Hiḍimba saw her in a beautiful human form, adorned with garlands and ornaments in her hair, her face shining like the full moon. She was radiant with lovely brows, nose, eyes, and hair, delicate nails and skin, adorned with all ornaments, and wearing fine garments. Seeing her thus, transformed into an enchanting human form and suspecting her of desiring a man, the man-eater grew furious. Greatly enraged at his sister, the rakshasa widened his large eyes and spoke harshly to her: “Who is this wicked-minded one who hinders me when I am eager to eat? Are you not afraid, Hiḍimbā? Has my anger confused you? Shame on you, unchaste one, who desires a man and acts against my will; you bring disgrace to all the former lords of the rakshasas. Because you have committed this offense against me, gathering these here under my protection, today I will slay them all together with you.