In the depths of his madness and longing, the king cried out many impassioned verses to his beloved Urvashi: “O wife, stay! Stay in your fierce mind! Stay in your deceitful speech! Stay!” His mind clouded by confusion and lacking discernment, the great king wandered, bewildered by his love and loss. Then Urvashi, seeing his state, spoke to him with compassion: “At the end of the year, you must come to me in the inner chamber; your son will be born. And I will spend one night with you.” Hearing these words, the king’s heart was filled with joy, and he returned to his city, hope renewed. Meanwhile, Urvashi gathered among the Apsaras and said, “This is the distinguished man with whom, drawn by affection, I have lived for so long.” The Apsaras, hearing her, replied with warmth: “May this form of virtue and fearlessness always remain with us as well, together with him, at all times.” When the year had passed, the king faithfully returned to Urvashi. She bestowed upon him a son and granted him long life. As promised, she spent one night with him, and from their union she conceived, destined to bear him five sons. Moved by affection, Urvashi said to the king, “All the Gandharvas, out of love for me, have become grantors of boons to you, O great king. Choose a boon.” The king, his senses clear and his power unobstructed, with relatives, immeasurable strength and wealth, replied, “Having conquered all enemies, I desire nothing else but to spend time with Urvashi in her world.” Hearing this, the Gandharvas presented him with a fire vessel. They instructed him, “Following the injunctions of the scriptures, perform a proper sacrifice with this fire vessel, dividing it into three, with the desire for union with Urvashi in her world; then you will surely attain what you seek.” Taking the fire vessel, the king departed. But as he traveled through the forest, doubt and regret overtook him. “Alas, how foolish I have been! What have I done?” he thought. “I have brought this fire vessel, not Urvashi herself.” Overcome by disillusionment, he left the vessel in the forest and returned to his city. That night, sleepless and restless, he reflected deeply. “The Gandharvas gave me the fire vessel for the sake of attaining Urvashi’s world, but I abandoned it in the forest.” Resolving to correct his error, he returned to the forest, but the fire vessel was gone. In its place, he found a Sami tree and a fig tree, and pondered, “Here I placed the fire vessel, but now the fig tree has become the embryo of the Sami tree.” Understanding this as a sign, he resolved, “I will take this very form of fire, bring it to my city, make it an arani (fire-stick), and worship the fire thus produced.” Returning to his city, he crafted the arani, measuring it with his fingers as he recited the Gayatri hymn. As he chanted the sacred syllables, his fingers became the forest itself. There, kindling fire by friction according to the ancient tradition of the three sacred fires, he offered oblations with devotion, his heart set on the reward of seeing Urvashi once more. By performing many sacrifices with that very fire, he attained the worlds of the Gandharvas, and together with Urvashi, was freed from all separation. Thus, in the beginning there was but one fire, but in this Manvantara, it was established in three forms. The king’s lineage flourished. He had sons named Dhiman, Avasu, Vishvavasu, Shatayu, and Shrutayu (also called Ayutayu). Among them, Amavasu’s son was Bhima; Bhima’s son was Kanchana, whose son was Suhotra, and his son was Jahnu. Once, when the sacrificial ground was flooded by the waters of the Ganges, Jahnu—his eyes red with anger and his mind firmly concentrated—absorbed the sacrificial person within himself and drank up the Ganges completely. The divine sages, seeing this, appeased Jahnu, and he released the Ganges, who became known as his daughter. Jahnu’s son was Sujahnū, whose son was Ajaka, then Balākāshva, then Kusha. Kusha’s sons were Kushāshva, Kushanabha, Amūrtarayas, Avasu, and Ashvatara. Among them, Kushāshva performed severe austerities, desiring, “May I have a son equal to Indra.” Indra, seeing his penance and fearing a rival in strength, entered Kushāshva himself and became his son. Thus, he was known as Gādhi, the Kauśika. Gādhi had a daughter named Satyavatī, whom the Bhārgava sage Ṛcīka chose as his wife. But Gādhi, reluctant to give his daughter to the aged ascetic, demanded as bride-price a thousand horses—dark-eared, with a single white spot, swift as the wind and radiant as the moon. Ṛcīka, obtaining such horses from Varuṇa, presented them as the bride-price. Ṛcīka then married Satyavatī. For the sake of offspring, he prepared a sacrificial oblation for his wife, and, being pleased, another for her mother so she might obtain a kṣatriya son. He instructed, “This oblation is for you; the other is for your mother. Use them properly.” Having said this, Ṛcīka went to the forest. When the time came, Satyavatī’s mother said to her, “Everyone desires that her own son be superior; the qualities of a daughter’s son or brother are not so highly valued. Therefore, you should give me your oblation and use mine yourself. For by my son, the entire earth must be protected.