As the Krita Yuga drew to its close, its twilight phase remained under its own influence, but only by a quarter. With the passing of ages, the virtues that once flourished in the Yugas—such as austerity, learning, strength, and longevity—began to decline. The Treta Yuga, O best of sages, emerged not in full, but in a partial manner. Yet, at the very beginning of this new age, Treta Yuga was a time of great delight and pleasantness. However, as perfection gradually faded from that era, a different kind of perfection took its place. It was during this time that, from the clouds and thunder, a discharge began to fall from the backs of living beings. Trees became the abodes for these beings, who relied on them for shelter and sustenance at the dawn of Treta Yuga. The nature of beings became unstable and subject to sudden change. This transformation, driven by the force of the Yuga, was unique to that time and would not repeat in the same way. In the course of these changes, sexual union began to occur, and with the onset of menstruation, conception happened even at improper times. As a result, all those trees—once considered homes—perished. Yet, those who remained steadfast and truthful in their intentions attained a new kind of perfection. From this, garments, fruits, and ornaments were produced. The people gained a great power of inquiry, and honey could be found in every cell. Strengthened by these accomplishments, they became free from illness. They seized the trees and took honey or bees by force. But the wish-fulfilling trees disappeared, vanishing along with their divine master, leaving only remnants here and there. With their departure, the pairs of opposites—such as pleasure and pain, heat and cold—arose among the people. Tormented by these dualities, some cried out, while others covered themselves for relief. Those who had once wandered freely, at will, now found themselves homeless once more. They roamed honey-laden peaks, mountains, and rivers, traversing both level and uneven ground as they pleased. In time, they began to construct villages and cities, carefully laying out their lengths, breadths, and inner arrangements. From this point forward, they established measures and standards to guide their settlements. For instance, ten finger-joints were called a ‘prādeśa.’ The ‘tāla’ was known as the middle measure, and ‘gokarṇa’ as the smallest. A ‘ratni’ was defined as twenty-one finger-joints, and a ‘kiṣku’ as two ratnis, or forty-two finger-joints. Two thousand bows made a ‘gavyūti,’ and these measures were used to establish settlements accordingly. Now, let me explain the determination of the fourth artificial fort: At each gate stood Rucaka, and likewise, Kumārīpura. Among ten, Hastasrota was the best, and Navahasta was counted among the eight. Of the three types of forts—those built on mountains, surrounded by water, or shaped like a bow—one was constructed with a diameter of half a yojana, with an eighth part added to its length. This fort was shaped like a fan, with cut or deformed ears. In this way, a divine, square city, highly praised, was constructed by the people of that age.