“We too are journeying there together,” they declared, their voices filled with anticipation. “For in that place, a wondrous and great festival will soon take place. It is there, at the self-choice ceremony, that the daughter of the illustrious Drupada, son of Yajñasena, will stand—she who was born from the sacrificial fire itself. She is Draupadī, flawless in form, beautiful and delicate, famed throughout the land, and the beloved sister of Dhṛṣṭadyumna, the mighty adversary of Droṇa. Dhṛṣṭadyumna, too, was born from the fire, radiant, armed with bow and arrows, a great chariot-warrior among the Somakas. At his birth, a bodiless voice had proclaimed, ‘This one will be both the death and the disciple of Bhāradvāja’s son.’ Alongside him, his sister, dark-eyed and radiant as a blue lotus, a jewel among women, was also born at that magnificent sacrifice. We go now to see Draupadī, the supreme woman, daughter of Yajñasena, and to witness her self-choice ceremony. There, kings and princes will gather—those who perform sacrifices, who are generous, learned in the Vedas, pure, steadfast, and great-souled. Young, handsome, strong, formidable—mighty chariot-warriors, skilled in arms—these rulers of men will assemble for the occasion. They will bring gifts for victory: wealth, cows, all manner of food and delicacies. We shall witness everything at Kṛṣṇā’s self-choice ceremony and see which Kṣatriya the maiden will choose in the arena. Bards, dancers, charioteers, and Magadhas, as well as heralds from many regions, strong and celebrated, will assemble there. Having witnessed this marvelous event and accepted its outcome, you will remain with us, noble ones, together with your mother. And when all of you, handsome and of varied forms, stand together, Kṛṣṇā will choose one among you as her husband. Here is your brother, handsome and mighty-armed; when he competes, he will surely win, and together you will gain great wealth. Come, let us go to witness the svayaṃvara—the festival of Draupadī, daughter of Yajñasena.” Thus resolved, those best among men set out, placing their mother at the forefront, proceeding northward along the prescribed paths. Within a day and night, they reached the city of the Pāñcālas and came to the sacred river Gaṅgā, the Bhāgīrathī. At the hour of moonset, deep in the night, they entered the water, seeking the holy place known as Soma’s refuge. The tiger-like sons of Pāṇḍu reached the riverbank; Dhanañjaya, holding a torch aloft, went before them to light the way and offer protection. In those beautiful, secluded waters, women were playing, their laughter and voices drifting through the night. As the Pāṇḍavas approached, the sound disturbed a powerful being who became greatly angered. Seeing the Pāṇḍavas with their mother, the scorcher of foes drew his terrible bow and spoke harshly: “The fierce twilight arises at the beginning of the night; that moment, short by eighty lavas, is called a muhūrta. It is allotted for the free movement of yakṣas, gandharvas, and rākṣasas; the rest of the time belongs to humans for their activities. Out of greed, those men who wander during these forbidden hours are seized and restrained by rākṣasas, along with the foolish. Therefore, those who fetch water at night, even if learned in the Vedas, are condemned by all, even by kings. Stay far from us; do not approach. Do you not recognize me, who has come to the waters of Bhāgīrathī? Know me as Angāraparṇa the Gandharva, strong in my own power, proud, jealous, and a dear friend of Kubera. I am Angāraparṇa, and this forest is mine; I wander along the Gaṅgā as I please, delighting in many ways. Neither spirits, nor horned beings, nor gods, nor humans—no one, not even Kubera’s own attendants—would approach me so boldly. Why do you come near? O foolish ones, whether on the ocean, beside the Himalayas, or in this river—by night, by day, or at twilight—who has the right to claim possession here? Whether one has eaten or not, by night or by day, or while moving through the sky—there is no fixed time for approaching the Ganga, the best of rivers. We possess strength and have approached you at an unseasonable time; but in battle, O cruel one, powerless men worship you. Long ago, this Ganga issued forth from the golden peak of the Himalaya, and after reaching the ocean’s waters, she divided into seven streams—the Ganga, Yamuna, Sarasvati born from the Plaksha tree, Sarayu flowing by chariot, as well as the Gomati and Gandaki. Those who drink from these seven rivers, whose sins are not yet settled, become pure; and this river, having become one again, ascends to the sky, pure once more. Among the gods, O Gandharva, Ganga becomes Alakananda; for the ancestors, she is the Vaitarani, hard to cross for those of evil deeds. Thus, having attained the Ganga, so said Krishna Dvaipayana. The divine river is unimpeded, bestowing heaven and auspiciousness. How do you wish to obstruct her? This is not the eternal law. How could we, by your words, be prevented from freely touching the holy water of Bhagirathi, which is irresistible and unimpeded?” Thus, in the moonlit night by the sacred river, the sons of Pāṇḍu stood their ground, their purpose unwavering, as the words of tradition, duty, and the sanctity of the Ganga echoed in the air.