The radiant twice-born ones, filled with curiosity and reverence, wondered aloud, “By what hymn might we praise him?” They spoke thus of Pṛthu, whose wisdom, virtue, generosity in speech, and invincibility in battle were renowned. It was this mighty Pṛthu who, after accomplishing many great deeds, performed acts that would become legendary. In the end, as lord of his subjects, Pṛthu bestowed gifts with immense satisfaction, his generosity shining forth. From that time onwards, it became the custom that rulers of the earth were praised by charioteers and Māgadhas. Whenever people and great sages beheld Pṛthu, their hearts overflowed with delight and they spoke his praises with joy. The people, filled with enthusiasm, rushed toward Vainya, another name for Pṛthu, seeking his guidance and protection. Pursued by their hopes and needs, Pṛthu resolved to act for their welfare. But the Earth herself, frightened by Pṛthu’s resolve and intensity, assumed the form of a cow and fled. Out of fear, she journeyed across all the worlds—even to the realm of Brahma—seeking refuge. Yet Pṛthu, radiant and relentless, pursued her with blazing, sharp arrows and the force of his energy. Finding no one able to protect her, the Earth at last turned to Vainya himself. She spoke to him, saying, “O king, there is no unrighteousness in striking a woman. The worlds are established in me; by me, this universe is sustained. You should not kill me, for your desire is for the welfare of all. When the proper means are followed, every endeavor succeeds. I will dwell within all beings; abandon your anger, O mighty one. O protector of the earth, uphold righteousness among creatures; you must not forsake it.” Hearing her words, the righteous king Pṛthu mastered his anger and addressed the Earth with compassion. “Whether one or many living beings, the act of killing brings sin. If the one slain is not virtuous, there is neither sin nor secondary fault. Yet, if today you do not fulfill my words for the welfare of the world, then, having established yourself here, you must sustain the people yourself. Continually revive the people, for you are indeed capable—there is no doubt. I would restrain any terrifying being who arises with the intent to harm you. All this, O Earth, I shall accomplish—there is no doubt.” The Earth, reassured, agreed. Just as milk, when stirred, spreads everywhere, so too, by the tip of Vena’s bow—Pṛthu’s father—the mountains were increased. By her own nature, the Earth became both even and uneven for Pṛthu, and the land was divided—ancient regions and villages taking shape. In the interval before the Cākṣuṣa Manvantara, these divisions existed. Wherever there was equality of terrain, in any place, the people’s food consisted only of roots and fruits. But from Vainya—Pṛthu—onward, all this changed in the world. Pṛthu himself milked the Earth, bringing forth crops with his own hands. It is also told by the seers that the Earth was again milked. The vessel for this act was the sacred meter, including the Gāyatrī and other meters. Then, once more, the hosts of gods, led by Purandara, took part: Maghavan became the calf, and the mighty Savitṛ was the milker. Thus, as the ancestors recount, the Earth was milked again and again for the benefit of all beings.