Hearing the plight of the villagers, all the Brahmanas gathered and approached the fearsome Rakshasa. They pleaded with him, “Do not kill out of desire. We will provide for you always. In return, as you wish, we shall bring you food with meat—rice mixed with meat and sesame flour. There will be dishes mixed with ghee and various seasonings—soups, sesame balls, cakes of puffed rice, and liquor. You shall have both cooked and uncooked jars of drink, large portions of meat, both prepared and raw, from forest animals, buffalo, boar, and bear. There will be jars of ghee and many jars of curds, freshly prepared and blended with sesame flour. From each family, you will receive one man and two black bullocks. If you restrain your anger, you will be given the portion set aside for the Rakshasa.” The Brahmanas implored him further, “Stay here according to our agreement.” The Rakshasa, accepting their proposal, replied, “Very well.” Thereafter, he abided by their pact, dwelling in the land and protecting the people from foreign armies and dangers of the forest, powerful as he was. Yet, as part of the agreement, every so often—though only after many years—a man from among them was given to the Rakshasa as his due. This grim turn was difficult for the people to bear. Those who tried to escape this fate met with tragedy—the Rakshasa would slay them, along with their wives and children, and devour them all. In the house of Vetrakīya, the king did not uphold justice, making no effort to devise a means for the people’s lasting safety. “Surely, this is the fate we deserve,” lamented the people, “we who are weak and dwell under the rule of a bad king. To whom should Brahmanas speak, and for whom should they act? Brahmanas remain only where there are virtues, just as birds stay where they wish.” They reflected, “First, one should seek a king, then a wife, and then wealth; for without a king, how can there be a wife or wealth? By gathering friends, one should rescue his kin and sons. By my effort, I have acquired all three—king, wife, and wealth; yet, having come to this misfortune, we are greatly afflicted. Now, this calamity that destroys the family has come upon us; I must provide food and a man as payment. But I have no wealth to buy a man, nor can I ever give a friend. I see no other way. For release from the Rakshasa, I am plunged in a great and difficult ocean of sorrow. Today, together with my relatives, I will go to the Rakshasa; then that wretch will consume us all together. O blameless one,” he said, “I have told you the root of this sorrow, as you asked.” Hearing this, Kunti addressed the householder gently, “You should not be despondent or afraid. A means has been found here for deliverance from the Rakshasa. I do not approve that you yourself, with your son, should go there; you have a young son and a daughter devoted to austerity. Nor do I approve that your wife or you should go. O Brahmana, I have five sons; one of them will go, as an offering for your sake, to that sinful Rakshasa.” But the Brahmana protested, “I will never do this, even for the sake of life—depriving a Brahmana guest of his own interests or life. It is not found among those of noble lineage or among the unrighteous that one would abandon himself or his own son for the sake of a Brahmana. It seems to me that death of oneself is preferable; whether it is the slaying of a Brahmana or oneself, for me, self-sacrifice is better. The slaying of a Brahmana is the highest sin; there is no expiation for it, even if done unintentionally, there is still demerit. Yet I do not desire to kill myself, O virtuous one; if the killing is done by others, there is no sin in me. If, with intention, I were to kill a Brahmana, I see no expiation for it—only cruelty and baseness. Abandoning one who has come to the house, or one who seeks refuge, or killing a supplicant—these are cruel acts, censured by the wise. One should never perform a condemned act, nor a cruel deed in any circumstance; thus did the great souls of old, who understood the law of adversity, declare. It is better for me, along with my wife, to perish today of my own accord; I will never consent to the killing of a Brahmin. This is my firm conviction, O Brahmin: the Brahmins must be protected; nor would my son be undesirable, even if I had a hundred sons. Nor is that Rakshasa capable of destroying my son; my son is powerful, accomplished in mantras, and radiant. He will deliver all that food to the Rakshasa, and he will save himself; this is my settled resolve.” He added, “The Rakshasas who have encountered him before and have seen his valor, though mighty and of great size, have been slain by him many times. This matter should not be spoken of to any Brahmin under any circumstance; for my sons, eager for knowledge, might act out of curiosity. If my son, without the teacher’s permission, were to undertake this task, he should not do so; this is the view of the virtuous regarding learning.” Thus addressed by Pritha, the Brahmin, together with his wife, joyfully honored those words, which were like nectar. Then Kunti and the Brahmin together spoke to the son of the wind, saying, “Do this.” And he replied to them, “So be it.