As the sacrificial rituals continued, King Janaka addressed the venerable sage Viśvāmitra, who had arrived at the sacred enclosure accompanied by a host of sages. Janaka observed, “O Brahman, you have come to this sacrificial ground with the sages. The wise declare that the consecration lasts twelve days, O Brahmarṣi. Therefore, Kauśika, you should witness the gods who come seeking their shares.” Speaking thus to the tiger among sages, Janaka’s face shone with joy. With hands joined in reverence and devotion, Janaka respectfully inquired, “May you be blessed! Who are these two youths, equal to the gods in valor? Their gait rivals that of elephants; they resemble tigers and bulls, with broad, lotus-like eyes. They bear swords, quivers, and bows, and in beauty, they are like the Aśvins, standing at the threshold of youth. They have arrived on earth as if by chance, like immortals from the realm of the gods. How have they come here on foot, for what purpose, and whose sons are they, O sage? These heroes, bearing excellent weapons, whose sons are they, O great sage? They adorn this land as the moon and sun adorn the sky. They resemble each other in stature, gestures, and movements; heroes with locks like crow’s wings. I wish to hear the truth about them.” Hearing these words from the great-souled Janaka, the immeasurable sage Viśvāmitra revealed, “They are the sons of Daśaratha.” He told of their residence at Siddhāśrama, the slaying of the rākṣasas, their untroubled arrival there, and their sight of Viśālā. He recounted the vision of Ahalya, her reunion with Gautama, and the coming here to test the great bow. All this, the illustrious sage Viśvāmitra reported to noble Janaka, and then paused. Now begins the fifty-first sarga in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Bālakāṇḍa. Hearing Viśvāmitra’s words, the radiant and ascetic Śatānanda, Gautama’s eldest son, felt his hair stand on end. Filled with wonder at the sight of Rāma, Śatānanda, shining with austerity, beheld the two princes seated comfortably and spoke to Viśvāmitra, the foremost sage. “O tiger among sages, did my illustrious mother, long devoted to austerity, appear before the royal prince? Did my illustrious mother, of great splendor, offer Rāma the worship due to all beings, with forest gifts? Was it told to Rāma, what happened long ago—what my glorious mother suffered at the hands of the god? O Kauśika, was my mother, the best of sages’ wives, united with my teacher after seeing Rāma? O son of Kuśika, did my teacher honor Rāma, the great-souled one, who came here and received worship? O son of Kuśika, did my teacher, with a peaceful mind, receive honor and greeting from Rāma, who came here?” Hearing these words, the great sage Viśvāmitra, skilled in speech, replied, “O best of sages, nothing has been left undone by me. The wife was reunited with the sage, just as Reṇukā was with Bhārgava.” Upon hearing this, Śatānanda, of great splendor, addressed Rāma: “Welcome to you, best of men! By good fortune you have come, O Rāghava, led here by the unconquered great sage Viśvāmitra. Viśvāmitra, of immeasurable brilliance, is a brahmarṣi whose deeds are beyond thought, attained by austerity—I know his supreme state. There is no one on earth more blessed than you, Rāma, for the son of Kuśika, who performed great austerity, is your protector. Listen as I recount, according to my ability and as it truly happened, the story of the great sage Kauśika; hear it from me as I narrate. He was a righteous king, a subduer of foes for a long time, learned in dharma, accomplished in knowledge, and devoted to the welfare of his people. There was a king named Kuśa, son of Prajāpati, and Kuśa’s son was the powerful and supremely righteous Kuśanābha. Kuśanābha’s son was renowned as Gādhi, and Gādhi’s son, the great and radiant sage, was Viśvāmitra. The mighty and illustrious Viśvāmitra ruled the earth for many thousands of years, governing as king. Once, the great and radiant king assembled his army and, surrounded by his divisions, journeyed across the land. The king traveled through cities, kingdoms, rivers, and great mountains, and, visiting hermitages in turn, he arrived at one. He reached the hermitage of Vasiṣṭha, adorned with flowering vines and trees, filled with many kinds of animals, and frequented by perfected beings and celestial wanderers. It was graced by gods, demons, gandharvas, and kinnaras, tranquil and filled with peaceful deer, attended by groups of twice-born sages. It was crowded with assemblies of brahmarṣis and hosts of devarṣis, inhabited by great souls accomplished in asceticism, resembling fire in their austerity. The hermitage was always filled with illustrious sages, resembling Brahmā himself, some subsisting on water, some on air, and others eating only fallen leaves. There were sages who ate only fruits and roots, who were self-restrained, who had conquered their faults and senses, including the Vālakhilyas, devoted to recitation and sacrifice. It was further adorned on all sides by other Vaikhānasa sages. Viśvāmitra, foremost among the victorious and mighty, beheld Vasiṣṭha’s hermitage, which seemed like another world of Brahmā.