Deceived by the enchanting sound of Krishna’s flute, the wives of Krishna followed him, their hearts wholly absorbed in his presence. Even the deer, drawn by his oceanic virtues, joined the cowherd women in their pursuit, freed from all attachment to their homes as they wandered after him. On the banks of the Yamuna, Krishna—welcomed with jasmine garlands and festive attire, surrounded by cowherds and cattle—delighted the hearts of his loving friends with his playful pastimes. A gentle, fragrant breeze, carrying the scent of sandalwood, blew in honor of him; groups of celestial singers encircled him, offering music, song, and praise. Krishna’s affection for the cows of Vraja was boundless. As he walked the path, elders honored him, and at the end of the day, he led all the cattle home, his fame sung by the sound of his flute. The exertion of the day shone on his beautiful face, his garland dusted by the earth kicked up by the hooves of the cattle. He returned, wishing to grant blessings to his friends—the king who arose from Devaki’s womb. His eyes rolled gently with joy, and his lips were pale like the jujube fruit. His soft cheeks were adorned by the splendor of golden earrings, garlanded and radiant, the giver of honor to his friends. The lord of the Yadus, sporting among the king of elephants, came at dusk like the lord of the night, his face beaming with joy as he approached the village, relieving the cows of Vraja from the day’s heat. Thus, the women of Vraja spent their days singing of Krishna’s pastimes, their minds and hearts wholly absorbed in him, filled with great joy. So ends the thirty-fifth chapter, "The Song of the Gopīs in Pairs," in the first half of the Tenth Book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture for supreme renunciates. Then, Ariṣṭa, the bull-demon, arrived at the cowherd settlement, shaking the earth with his massive hump and tearing up the ground with his hooves. He bellowed harshly, scraped the earth with his feet, raised his tail, and tossed the mounds, lifting them with the tips of his horns. Releasing dung bit by bit and urinating, his eyes fixed and unblinking, his fierce, harsh bellowing terrified both cows and people. Out of fear, pregnant women miscarried before their time, and the clouds, mistaking his hump for a mountain, scattered away. Seeing his sharp horns, the cowherd women and men were struck with terror; the cattle, frightened, fled the settlement, abandoning Gokula. All cried out, "Krishna! Krishna!" and took refuge in Govinda. Seeing Gokula panic-stricken with fear, the Lord took notice. He comforted them, saying, "Do not be afraid," and called out to the bull-demon while the cowherds and cattle, trembling, looked on: "What is this, O worst of creatures?" Achyuta struck the ground with his palm, provoking Ariṣṭa with a resounding slap, and declared, "I am the destroyer of the pride of the wicked, like you, O evil-minded one." Hari, standing with his arm extended over his friend's shoulder, awaited. Ariṣṭa, enraged, scraped the earth with his hoof, whirled his raised tail like a storm cloud, and charged furiously at Krishna. With sharp horns pointed forward, eyes fixed and bloodshot, Ariṣṭa rushed swiftly at Achyuta, casting a sidelong glance, like a thunderbolt released by Indra. But the Lord seized him by the horns, stepped back eighteen paces, and dragged him away, just as an elephant would pull back another elephant. Thrown aside, Ariṣṭa quickly rose again, his body drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, and overcome by wrath, he charged once more. Krishna seized him by the horns, pressed him down with his foot, threw him to the ground, squeezed him as one wrings out wet clothes, and struck him with the horn. Ariṣṭa fell down, vomiting blood, releasing urine and feces, flailing his legs, his eyes unsteady—he suffered greatly and met his end at the hands of Nirṛti. The gods showered Krishna with flowers and praised him. Having slain the bull-demon Kukudmin in this way, Krishna, praised by the twice-born, entered the cowherd settlement with Balarama, a festival for the eyes of the gopīs. When the demon Ariṣṭa was slain by Krishna’s wondrous deeds, the divine sage Nārada, who beholds the gods, went to inform Kaṃsa. He told Kaṃsa that the daughter of Yaśodā, the boy Krishna of Devakī, and Rāma, the son of Rohiṇī, had been entrusted by the fearful Vasudeva. Vasudeva had placed those two, by whom Kaṃsa’s men were slain, in the care of his friend Nanda. Hearing this, the king of the Bhojas, agitated by anger, took up a sharp sword, intending to kill Vasudeva, but was restrained by Nārada, who revealed that those two sons were destined to be Kaṃsa’s death. Realizing this, Kaṃsa bound Vasudeva and his wife with iron chains. When the divine sage departed, Kaṃsa summoned Keśin and spoke to him, sending him forth: "Go and kill Rāma and Keśava; then send Muṣṭika, Cāṇūra, Śala, Tośala, and others." He summoned his ministers and elephant-keepers: "Listen, all of you: these are the mighty wrestlers Cāṇūra and Muṣṭika. In Nanda’s cowherd village reside the two sons of Ānakadundubhi, Rāma and Krishna; therefore, my death has been foretold at their hands. You two must kill them here in a wrestling match; let various platforms be prepared, surrounded by the wrestling arena, so that all the citizens and country folk may witness their combat. O chief minister, have the elephant Kuvalayāpīḍa brought to the gate of the arena; let him kill my enemies there. Let the bow-sacrifice be commenced on the fourteenth day, according to the prescribed rites; let the pure animals be brought in for offering to the Lord of beings, the bestower of blessings." Having thus instructed the expert in practical affairs, Kaṃsa summoned the foremost among the Yadus, took his hand in his own, and spoke to Akrura: "O generous lord, please, out of respect, establish friendship with me; among the Bhojas and Vrishnis, there is no one more well-wishing than you. Therefore, gentle one, I have taken refuge in you, as you are capable of accomplishing important tasks, just as Indra, relying on Vishnu, attained his own purpose, O mighty one. Go to Nanda’s Vraja; there, the two sons of Anakadundubhi are staying. Bring them here at once in this chariot. It is said that my death has been sent by the gods who dwell in Vaikuntha; bring those two here together with the cowherds, led by Nanda, along with their gifts.