When the great sage Viśvāmitra, son of Gādhi, heard the words of Vasiṣṭha, he bowed respectfully and said, “So be it! Let it be as you desire, O revered one, foremost among sages.” Pleased by this response, Vasiṣṭha, the best among reciters of sacred lore, called joyfully for his divine cow, Kāmadhenu—also known as Śabala, the sinless one. He summoned her, saying, “Come, come quickly, Śabala, and listen to my words. I am determined to provide this royal sage with the finest meal and honor. Arrange it all for me.” He continued, “For each and every person here, according to their desire, with all six tastes and full honor, let all those divine, wish-fulfilling things rain down, O Kāmadhenu. O Śabalā, quickly produce every kind of food—solid and liquid, to be licked and to be sucked—rich with flavors, grains, and drinks.” Thus, in the glorious Rāmāyaṇa of Vālmīki, the next episode unfolds. Śabalā, the wish-fulfilling cow, responded at once to Vasiṣṭha’s command. She provided for each person exactly what they wished for. Sugarcanes, honey, parched grains, the finest wines and liquors, precious drinks, and all manner of foods, from rich to simple, appeared in abundance. Heaps of steaming, perfectly cooked rice rose like mountains, accompanied by delicious dishes, soups, and curds. There were foods of every taste and flavor, sweetmeats, and thousands of dishes brimming with jaggery. The feast was so satisfying that everyone present was filled with joy and contentment; Vasiṣṭha thus fully gratified Viśvāmitra’s entire army. Viśvāmitra, along with his household, priests, and attendants, was delighted and well-nourished. Honored in this way and filled with supreme joy, he addressed Vasiṣṭha, saying, “O Brāhmaṇa, you have honored me with the highest hospitality. Listen, O master of words, as I speak. Give me Śabalā in exchange for a hundred thousand cows, for this cow is a jewel, and kings are collectors of jewels. Therefore, O twice-born, give me Śabalā by right.” To this, the venerable Vasiṣṭha, foremost of sages, replied, “O king, I will not give up Śabalā for a hundred thousand cows, nor for hundreds of millions. I will not give her up for heaps of silver either; I am not fit to part with her, O subduer of foes. Śabalā has always been mine, as is the fame of a virtuous man. Through her, I obtain offerings for the gods and ancestors, and my very livelihood. Through her depend the sacred fire-ritual, offerings, oblations, the utterance of svāhā and vaṣaṭ, and various branches of knowledge. All this, O royal sage, depends on her—there is no doubt. She is my everything, my source of satisfaction and truth. For many reasons, O king, I will not give you Śabalā.” Viśvāmitra, his desire for the cow only growing, spoke with even greater eagerness: “I will give you elephants adorned with golden chains and goads, their necks encircled with collars of gold. I will give you fourteen thousand such golden elephants, and chariots made of gold, drawn by four white horses. I will give you eight hundred horses, adorned with tinkling bells, of noble lineage and great strength, and a thousand and ten more. I will give you a crore of cows, of every color and age; let the spotted one be given to me. As many jewels or as much gold as you desire, O best of Brāhmaṇas, I will give you all that; only let the spotted one be given to me.” But the venerable Vasiṣṭha replied firmly, “I will not give you the spotted one under any circumstance, O king. This alone is my treasure, this alone is my wealth; this alone is my everything, this alone is my very life. The new and full moon sacrifices, and all the rites duly performed—these alone are mine, O king, as are the various other rituals. All my rites depend upon her, O king, there is no doubt. Why speak at length? I will not give up the wish-fulfilling cow.” When Vasiṣṭha refused to part with Kāmadhenu, Viśvāmitra’s desire turned to force. Seizing the spotted cow, he began to have her dragged away. As she was being led off by the king’s men, Kāmadhenu was overcome with distress and sorrow. Tears streaming, she pondered in grief, “Abandoned by the supremely noble Vasiṣṭha, why am I, so miserable, being led away by the king’s men? What wrong have I done to that great-souled sage, that he, seeing me innocent and devoted, abandons me, though he is righteous?” Thinking thus, sighing again and again, she mustered her strength and swiftly broke free from the king’s men by the hundreds. With the speed of the wind, she rushed to the feet of the great-souled Vasiṣṭha. Weeping and crying out, her voice resounding like thunder, she stood before him and spoke, “O venerable one, son of Brahmā, why have you abandoned me, that the king’s soldiers are taking me away from your presence?