Sometimes, the young cowherds adorned themselves with garlands of fragrant kadamba flowers, or wore peacock feathers in their hair, or smeared their limbs with colorful pigments gathered from the mountains. Each day, they appeared in fresh and delightful ways, their joy shining through their playful forms. At times, they would rest together on soft beds of leaves beneath the trees; sometimes they wandered through the groves, their laughter echoing among the trunks. When thunderclouds rolled across the sky, their hearts would tremble and they cried out in fear, huddling close for comfort. They delighted in the music of their companions, praising the sweet songs of the other cowherds. Sometimes, they would imitate the cries of peacocks or mimic the playful speech of the cowherd women, filling the forest with their innocent mirth. One day, Bala and Keshava—Balarama and Krishna—together tending their herds, wandered through the forest and came upon a beautiful grove of palm trees. But in that grove dwelt the fierce demon Dhenuka, who, taking the form of a monstrous ass, feasted on the flesh of animals and guarded the place jealously. The cowherd boys, gazing at the palm trees heavy with ripe fruit, were filled with longing. They turned to Rama and Krishna and said, “O Rama! O Krishna! This place is always guarded by Dhenuka; that is why the sweet fruits remain untouched. See how the fragrance of the palm fruits spreads far and wide! We wish to taste them—please, if you desire, bring them down for us.” Hearing their words, Sankarshana—accompanied by Krishna—shook the palm trees, causing the ripe fruits to tumble to the ground with a great sound. The noise roused the wicked Dhenuka, who, angered and dangerous, rushed forward in his ass form. The powerful Bala met him, striking him on the chest with his strong legs, but the demon was not subdued by the blow. Then Bala seized Dhenuka, whirled him around, and with a mighty force, hurled him onto a great clump of grass. Dhenuka’s life departed as he flew through the air, and his body crashed to the earth. A fierce wind arose, scattering more ripe fruits from the tops of the palms, just as a storm scatters the clouds. The relatives of Dhenuka, other donkey-shaped demons, rushed to avenge him, but Balabhadra easily seized them and threw them to the ground. In a single moment, the earth was strewn with golden fruits and the bodies of the slain demons, making the grove more beautiful than ever before. Now, freed from fear, the cows grazed contentedly in the palm grove, enjoying the fresh grass that had never before been tasted. With the demons destroyed, the grove became a place of delight for all the cowherds and cowherd women. Filled with joy at the victory over Dhenuka, the two sons of Vasudeva—Krishna and Balarama—made their way to the great banyan tree known as Bhāṇḍīra. Calling out to one another, singing, searching for new trees, tending the cows that wandered at a distance, and calling each other by name, they roamed freely through the groves. Ropes for binding calves hung from their shoulders, and garlands of wildflowers adorned them. They shone like young bullocks with budding horns, their garments dusted with golden and black powders, appearing as white and dark clouds on the horizon, and bearing Indra’s weapons as their playthings. They played joyfully on the earth, sporting with the perfected beings of the worlds, though truly they were the lords of all creation. Delighting in their human forms, they honored their roles as boys, playing games suited to their age. On this day, the two mighty ones amused themselves with swings, wrestling, and hurling stones. But among them came the asura Pralamba, disguised as a cowherd boy, seeking an opportunity to destroy them. Unrecognized by the others, Pralamba mingled freely, waiting for his chance. Knowing Krishna’s invincibility, he resolved to slay the son of Rohini—Balarama. Soon, the boys began their favorite game, “Hari’s sport,” forming pairs and rising together. Krishna was paired with Śrīdāmā, Bala with Pralamba, and the others with one another. As the game unfolded, Krishna defeated Śrīdāmā, Balarama bested Pralamba, and Krishna’s team emerged victorious. As the rules of the game required, the losers carried the winners on their backs to the banyan tree Bhāṇḍīra. But Pralamba, seizing his chance, swiftly lifted Sankarshana onto his shoulders and sped away, leaping into the sky like a cloud bearing the moon. As they soared, Pralamba’s form grew vast and terrible, like a rain-laden cloud, for he could not bear the weight of Balarama. In his true shape, he appeared like a burning mountain, adorned with garlands, ornaments, and a shining crown. His eyes blazed like cartwheels, and his footsteps shook the earth. Balarama, fearless and resolute, called out to Krishna, “Krishna, Krishna! See how I am being carried away by this demon, who has taken the form of a cowherd! His body is tall as a mountain. Tell me, Madhusudana, what should I do? This wicked one is carrying me off with great haste.” Krishna, the knower of all, understanding the strength and power of his brother, smiled gently and replied, “Why do you so clearly assume this human disposition, you who are the innermost self of all, the secret of all secrets? Remember, O ancient one, cause of all causes and seed of the entire world, your true self—one alone, just as that which is in the single cosmic ocean.” Thus, the divine brothers, ever playful and ever mighty, continued their wondrous pastimes in the forests of Vraja, delighting the world and destroying all that was inauspicious.