Kunti’s actions, undertaken with deep thought and compassion for the suffering brahmin, were entirely appropriate. Her kindness toward the distressed brahmin and his family was evident in every way, and Yudhishthira reassured her that, thanks to her care, Bhima would surely return after slaying the fearsome man-eater. Yet, it was crucial that the townspeople not learn the details of what was happening, and the brahmin himself needed to be spoken to gently and reassured. With this in mind, Kunti consulted with Yudhishthira, discussing all matters concerning the brahmin, and then entered to share everything with the others. When the night had passed, the mighty Bhimasena approached the brahmin and spoke with resolve: “Do not fear, dear brahmin. I will rescue you and your sons from this peril. Let me be the one offered to the rakshasa—do not worry.” Bhima then urged the brahmin, “Prepare food for me in your house just this once, and afterward, I will offer myself to that dreadful rakshasa. Hurry, do not delay! I am determined today to protect you all, even at the cost of my life.” Moved by Bhima’s words, the brahmin informed his friends and arranged for a generous meal. The townspeople contributed, bringing rice cooked with meat, ghee, condiments, and various soups. Bhimasena ate his fill of many kinds of meat, enjoyed the finest sweets, and consumed great heaps of mixed rice. Afterward, he drank many pots of curds, each the size of a drona, as the townspeople brought whatever they had, eager to help. Their hearts were joyful as they gave Bhima his full share of food, and when the night had again passed, he was served with side dishes and curds. Then, Vrikodara, as Bhima was also known, mounted a cart heaped with food. Accompanied by the sounds of musical instruments and surrounded by the townspeople, he set out. The people marveled at his youth and strength, noting how this robust young man, with his sturdy frame, was offering himself as food to the rakshasa—though his appearance seemed ill-suited for such a fate. Praised by the crowd, Vrikodara urged on the two bullocks yoked to the cart, both marked for sacrifice. With music playing, he joyfully made his way toward the lair of the man-eater, surrounded on all sides by the townspeople. When he reached the appointed place, Bhima went forward alone; the crowd, terrified by the rakshasa, remained behind. Heading south for quite some distance as directed, Bhima came upon a great tree at the appointed spot. Around it were scattered grisly remains—hair, marrow, bones, fat, arms, legs, and feet—some fresh, some dry. The place was dreadful, covered with the leftovers of vultures and jackals, frequented by packs of wild dogs, and foul-smelling, like a terrible cremation ground. Entering the shade of that great tree, the mighty Bhima thought to himself, “Until I see the rakshasa named Baka, who is said to be stronger than all, I will wait here. This cart is filled with various foods and dishes, both simple and fine. Until the rakshasa arrives, I shall eat here, for such food may not come my way again. If I fight the rakshasa, all this might be scattered. And if Baka touches me after killing me, the food will become unfit to eat.” Thus resolved, Bhimasena sat in a secluded spot and began to eat the excellent food. Meanwhile, the townspeople, climbing the surrounding trees, watched him from all sides. They whispered among themselves, “No man should eat the offering meant for the rakshasa. It seems Baka, in the form of a brahmin, is eating his own meal!” Bhima, radiant and confident, laughed as he finished his meal. Then, entering the rakshasa’s dreadful forest, the mighty Pandava called out Baka’s name, offering him the food. Enraged by Bhima’s words, the rakshasa came in a fury to where Bhima stood. He was huge-bodied, moving swiftly as if tearing the earth itself, with red, blood-shot eyes and terrifying, blood-red hair and beard. His mouth stretched from ear to ear, his ears were shell-shaped and dreadful to behold, his brow furrowed in three deep lines, and he gnashed his teeth in anger. Seeing Bhimasena calmly eating the food, the rakshasa glared, his eyes wide with fury, and demanded, “Who is this eating the food prepared for me, right before my very eyes, so recklessly courting death?” Hearing this, Bhimasena simply laughed and, ignoring the rakshasa, continued eating with his back turned. The man-eating rakshasa let out a terrifying roar, raised both his hands, and charged at Bhimasena, intent on killing him. Yet, even as he was insulted and watched closely, Vrikodara, the slayer of enemy heroes and son of Pandu, kept eating, undisturbed by the rakshasa’s threats. Filled with rage, the rakshasa struck Bhima forcefully on the back with both hands from behind. But Bhima, unshaken, did not even glance at him and continued eating. Enraged further, the mighty rakshasa seized a tree and rushed at Bhima to strike him. As the rakshasa hurled the tree in anger, Bhima, strong of arm, caught it with his left hand and continued eating with his right, undisturbed by the monstrous assault.