Hearing the astonishing tale of Pradyumna’s return, the women of Krishna’s inner chambers were filled with joy. They welcomed him warmly, as if one lost for many years had come back from the dead. Devakī and Vasudeva, together with Krishna and Balarama and their wives, embraced Pradyumna and his wife, and Rukmini too rejoiced at his return. News of this wonder spread throughout Dvārakā, and the residents exclaimed in amazement, “Ah! The boy has come back as if from the dead—by great good fortune!” Pradyumna, who had been lost, was cherished again and again by the mothers of Dvārakā, who worshiped him with feelings reserved for their own lord and father. Their affection for him grew daily, but this was not surprising—for in the reflection of Lakshmi’s abode, the realm of desire and love, what could those lacking virtue possibly do? Thus concludes the fifty-fifth chapter, “The Account of Pradyumna’s Birth,” in the tenth book, second part, of the great Purāṇa Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, the scripture of the supreme paramahaṃsa tradition. Now begins the fifty-sixth chapter. Śrī Śuka continued: Satrājit, having committed a wrong, gave his own daughter to Krishna and personally offered the Syamantaka jewel. The king inquired, “What wrong did Satrājit do to Krishna, O Brāhmaṇa? How did he obtain the Syamantaka jewel? And why did he give his daughter to Hari?” Śrī Śuka replied: Satrājit was a great devotee and a close friend of the sun god. Pleased with his devotion, the sun god bestowed upon him the radiant Syamantaka jewel. Satrājit, wearing the jewel around his neck, shone with a brilliance like the sun itself. When he entered Dvārakā, his dazzling radiance was so great that the people did not recognize him. From a distance, the citizens, astonished by his glow, hurried to Krishna, who was playing dice at the time, and reported, “O Nārāyaṇa, salutations to you, bearer of conch, discus, and mace! O Dāmodara, lotus-eyed Govinda, delight of the Yadus! The sun god himself is coming to see you, O lord of the world, stealing the sight of all with his fierce rays! Surely, the best of the gods seek your path throughout the three worlds, and today, knowing you are hidden among the Yadus, the unborn lord comes to see you.” Krishna heard the excited words of the children and, laughing gently, said, “That is not the sun god, but Satrājit, shining with the Syamantaka jewel.” Satrājit entered his splendid, auspiciously decorated home and placed the precious jewel in the family shrine, where it was consecrated by brāhmaṇas. Each day, the Syamantaka produced eight loads of gold, and wherever it was worshipped, famine, calamity, snake afflictions, disease, and misfortune could not occur. When the Yadu king, Krishna himself, asked Satrājit for the jewel—not out of desire for wealth, but for the good of the kingdom—Satrājit, disregarding the request, refused to give it. One day, Satrājit’s brother Prasena, adorned with the radiant jewel around his neck, mounted his horse and rode into the forest to hunt. There, a lion attacked and killed both Prasena and his horse, seizing the jewel and carrying it into a mountain cave. In that cave, Jāmbavat, the king of bears, slew the lion and took the jewel for himself, giving it as a plaything to his child. When Satrājit did not see his brother return, he was greatly troubled. Rumors began to spread: “He who wore the jewel-necklace has been killed—surely Krishna did it and went to the forest! His brother is now lost to me.” Such whispers passed from ear to ear among the people. Hearing that his own reputation was being stained by these accusations, Krishna resolved to clear his name. Accompanied by the citizens, he followed the path Prasena had taken. In the forest, they found Prasena slain, his horse killed by a lion, and the lion itself dead, killed by a bear on the mountain slope. Krishna then entered alone into the dreadful cave of the king of bears, leaving the people outside. Inside, in the deep darkness, he saw the precious jewel being used as a child’s toy. Waiting for the right moment, Krishna stood near the child. Suddenly, the child’s nurse, seeing an unfamiliar man, cried out in fear. Hearing her, Jāmbavat, the mighty king of bears, rushed in, enraged. Not recognizing Krishna as his own master, he challenged him, thinking him an ordinary man. A fierce battle ensued between the two, both eager for victory. They fought with weapons, stones, trees, and their bare arms, like vultures fighting over flesh. For twenty-eight days and nights, without rest, they struck each other with fists as hard as thunderbolts. At last, Jāmbavat, his limbs battered, strength exhausted, and body drenched in sweat, was overcome by Krishna’s blows. In great astonishment, he spoke: “I know you are the life, vigor, strength, and power of all beings—Viṣṇu, the ancient person, the supreme lord and master. You are the creator of the creators, and that which exists among the created. You are Time, the lord of those who measure, the supreme Self, and the self of all selves. By your mere sidelong glance, the ocean was stirred, a path was revealed, a bridge built, Lanka’s fame was made to shine, and the heads of demons fell to earth, shattered by arrows.” Thus recognizing Krishna as the Lord, Jāmbavat, king of bears, offered his respects. Krishna, lotus-eyed and compassionate, touched Jāmbavat with his hand and spoke with a voice deep as a raincloud: “O king of bears, I have come to your cave for the sake of the jewel, to clear myself of false accusation, with this very jewel.” Hearing this, Jāmbavat was filled with joy. To honor Krishna, he gave him both the Syamantaka jewel and his own daughter, Jāmbavatī, in marriage. Meanwhile, the people waiting outside the cave saw that Krishna did not emerge. After twelve days of anxious waiting, they sorrowfully returned to Dvārakā. News of Krishna’s absence grieved Devakī, Rukmiṇī, Vasudeva, and all his friends and relatives. The citizens of Dvārakā, overwhelmed by sorrow, cursed Satrājit and, longing for news of Krishna, approached the goddess Candra-bhāgā, Durgā, in prayer.