As the king journeyed onward, his eyes beheld a wondrous array of life in that sacred forest. He saw flocks of mañjulītaka birds, dātyūha birds, bhāradvājas, and caṣas, along with countless other delightful birds, their colors and songs filling the air with joy. All around him moved animals of every kind: carnivores in many forms, deer and great deer, tigers, lions with flowing manes, leopards, the mighty śarabha beasts, and prowling wolves. He beheld many bears and hyenas, monkeys with long tails and others without, hares, kādamba birds, cats, and animals as swift as the wind. His gaze fell upon mice, mongooses, jackals, and even lions playing among the trees. He saw intoxicated elephants, buffaloes, wild oxen, bulls, camels, deer, the formidable gaur, and donkeys. Rams, sheep, more deer, dogs, blue-hued creatures, immense serpents, and fierce animal-mothers moved peacefully through the groves. There were boars with great tusks, more sarabhas, cranes, birds like kashambaras, fierce and gentle ones alike, some adorned with garlands, others with black tails marking the forest’s gateways. Tusked beasts, rhinoceroses, boars, horses, mules, and donkeys—species who by nature are often opposed—mingled here without enmity. Witnessing these creatures, who would elsewhere be hostile, living together in harmony, the king was filled with wonder. This was no ordinary forest: it was the sacred hermitage that had once been the abode of the sage Atri. By the grace of Atri, the hermitage shone with radiance, filled with both moving and unmoving beings, all living without harm to one another, despite their natural tendencies. Even the carnivorous animals subsisted only on milk and fruits, for the great-souled Atri had willed it so. The king dwelled upon the mountain slopes and in the valleys, where the very rocks poured forth divine milk, sweet as nectar and free from thorns. Sometimes buffaloes wandered there, sometimes goats, and the rocks overflowed with milk or curds in various places. Beholding all this, the king’s heart was filled with supreme delight. He saw divine lakes and rivers, their waters pure and clear. Channels ran here and there, some warm, some cool, and the mountain caves were a delight at every turn. No snow fell within five yojanas in any direction; the beautiful mountain peak remained untouched by winter’s grasp. Yet, on one white peak of the lord of mountains, clouds always gathered to bring snowfall. On another summit, rain-clouds poured down, showering the peak with stones. The hermitage itself was enchanting, with wish-fulfilling streams flowing and trees ever laden with fruit, as if for the foremost of the gods. Bees and divine women attended the place, and it was always celebrated in song. Simply being there destroyed all sin, as if the mountain itself struck away impurity. Monkeys played from place to place, gathering heaps of snow that shone like the moon’s disc. The hermitage was surrounded on all sides by snow-filled caves and mountain enclosures, always inaccessible to ordinary men. Yet, by the grace of the god of gods, the great king Pururavas, whose devotion was steadfast, arrived at this sacred place. There, the hermitage appeared before the king of Madra, soothing his fatigue and enchanting his senses. It was adorned with hundreds of delightful flowers, beautifully arranged by Atri himself, auspicious and brimming with good fortune. Before him rose two great snowy peaks, vast in color, and between them a third peak, towering even higher. This peak, formed from eternally heated stone and always free from clouds, stood in the western direction, beneath which, among the trees, a beautiful cave was hidden, surrounded by jasmine creepers. Filled with curiosity, the king entered. The cave was dense with darkness, narrow as a nalva, but after passing beyond its length, it shone with the brilliance of its own ornaments. It was exceedingly lofty, deep, and winding—a place where neither sun nor moonlight reached. Yet, within, it was always bright as day, illuminated both day and night, stretching more than a krosha, and graced with a splendid lake. Around the lake, platforms attached to the mountain sparkled, adorned with golden, silver, and coral trees. Jeweled flowers of many kinds glimmered, and in the lake bloomed lotuses with petals of padmaraga gems, their filaments clustered in diamonds, their leaves of emerald and sapphire, exuding fragrance. The centers of the lotuses were of gold, and the ground of the lake was not filled with diamonds alone, but covered with a multitude of gems. Aquatic creatures—cowries, oysters, and conches—abounded. Crocodiles and fish, fierce turtles, and pieces of emerald and thousands of diamonds lay scattered within. Padmaraga gems, indranila stones, great sapphires, all varieties of spinel, and karkoṭaka stones were present. There were pieces of copper, portions of shesha, the chief rājāvarta, and gems of beautiful hue. Sun and moon stones, gems of the deepest blue, and radiant, delightful syamantaka gems adorned the lake’s floor. Gems of the gods and serpents, crystal, garnet, yellow sapphire, and emerald dust sparkled among them. Sapphires, sugandhika, royal gems, the chief diamond, and even the rare brahma gem—all these treasures filled the wondrous cave, dazzling the king with their divine splendor.