Jāmbavān, the mighty king of bears, was locked in fierce combat with Krishna. But as Krishna’s blows struck him, his limbs were bound, his strength drained, and sweat poured from his body. Greatly astonished by Krishna’s prowess, Jāmbavān spoke, his voice filled with reverence. He acknowledged Krishna as the very life, vigor, strength, and power within all beings—Viṣṇu, the ancient person, the supreme lord and master. Jāmbavān recognized him as the creator of the creators, the essence of all that exists, the lord of Time, the supreme Self, and the self within all selves. He recalled how, with just a sidelong glance raised in anger, Krishna had stirred the ocean, revealing a path, enabling a bridge to be built, and making Lanka’s fame shine. The heads of demons had fallen to earth, shattered by arrows. Thus, Jāmbavān realized the true nature of the Lord before him. Seeing Jāmbavān’s recognition, Achyuta—Krishna, the son of Devakī—spoke kindly to him. With lotus eyes and a voice deep as thunderclouds, Krishna touched Jāmbavān with compassion. He explained, “O king of bears, I have come to your cave for the sake of the jewel, to clear myself of the false accusation, with this very jewel.” Filled with joy at Krishna’s words, Jāmbavān honored him by offering his own daughter, Jāmbavatī, and the precious jewel. Meanwhile, those outside the cave, unable to see Krishna emerge, waited in sorrow for twelve days before returning to their city. When news spread that Krishna had not come out, Devakī, Rukmiṇī, Vasudeva, friends, and relatives all grieved deeply. The citizens of Dvārakā, filled with sorrow, cursed Satrājit and, seeking news of Krishna, approached goddess Candra-bhāgā, Durgā. Their heartfelt worship moved the goddess, who blessed them and instructed them; soon after, Hari—Krishna—accomplished his purpose and appeared with his wife, bringing immense joy. Seeing Krishna return, adorned with the jewel and accompanied by his wife, the people rejoiced as if he had returned from death. Festivity filled the city. Krishna summoned Satrājit into the assembly, recounted the recovery of the jewel, and presented it to him before the king. Satrājit, deeply ashamed, took the gem and returned home, tormented by his own misdeeds. Disturbed by remorse and inner conflict, Satrājit pondered how to cleanse himself of sin and please Krishna. He wondered how he might restore his reputation and not be cursed as greedy or foolish. Resolving to appease Krishna, he decided to offer his daughter—Satyabhāmā, a jewel among women—and the gem itself, believing this was the proper way. Thus determined, Satrājit personally brought his virtuous daughter and the jewel to Krishna, offering them with reverence. Krishna duly married Satyabhāmā, renowned for her character, beauty, and noble qualities. Yet, Krishna said, “We do not accept the jewel, O King. Let it remain with you, a devotee of the gods, while we partake of its benefit.” Some time later, Śuka narrated that the Supreme Person, Krishna, adorned with attendants like Yuyudhāna, journeyed to Indraprastha to visit the Pāṇḍavas. The heroic sons of Pāṇḍu, seeing Mukunda—the Lord of all—arrive, rose together, as if life itself had returned. They embraced Acyuta, and, freed from all distress by his touch, rejoiced at his affectionate, smiling face. Krishna offered obeisance at the feet of Yudhiṣṭhira and Bhīma, embraced Arjuna, and was honored by the twins. Draupadī, newly married and somewhat bashful, approached and respectfully greeted Krishna, seated on the chief seat. Satyaki, also honored by the Pāṇḍavas, took his seat, as did the other attendants. Krishna approached Kuntī, offered salutations, and was embraced by her, her eyes moist with deep affection. He inquired about her welfare, that of her daughters-in-law, her sister, and all her relatives. Kuntī, recalling many hardships and the vision of the Self that comes after suffering, spoke to him with a voice choked by love and eyes filled with tears. She said their well-being had only arisen when they gained a protector, and remembered how her brother had been sent to Krishna. Kuntī affirmed that Krishna, friend and Self of all, knows no distinction between 'us' and 'them'; yet, dwelling in the heart, he always dispels the sorrows of those who remember him. Yudhiṣṭhira wondered what good they might have left undone, for Krishna, rarely seen even by the masters of yoga, had graced them, who were of little wisdom, with his presence. Thus requested by the king, Krishna stayed for several months, delighting the people of Indraprastha. Once, Arjuna, conqueror of enemies, mounted his chariot bearing Hanuman’s banner, took up his Gāṇḍīva bow and inexhaustible quivers. With Krishna, fully armed, he entered a great forest teeming with wild beasts, seeking sport. There, Arjuna struck tigers, boars, buffaloes, antelopes, sarabhas, wild oxen, rhinoceroses, deer, hares, and porcupines with his arrows. The attendants brought these sanctified animals to the king as a festival approached. Parched with thirst and weary, Arjuna went to the Yamunā. After purification and drinking clear water, Krishna and Arjuna saw a maiden of enchanting beauty wandering nearby. Approaching the noble, radiant maiden, Arjuna—sent by Krishna—questioned her, “Who are you, O slender-waisted one? Whose daughter are you, and from where do you come? What do you intend? I think you seek a husband. Tell me everything, O beautiful one.