After the splendid hospitality offered by Vasiṣṭha, Viśvāmitra, the royal sage, felt immense delight. Surrounded by his household, priests, ministers, and attendants, he was well-nourished and honored, his heart brimming with supreme joy. In this mood, 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 she is a jewel, and kings are collectors of jewels. Therefore, O twice-born, give me Śabalā by right.” Vasiṣṭha, the venerable and foremost among sages, replied with calm righteousness, “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, just as the fame of a virtuous man is his own. Through her, I obtain offerings for gods and ancestors and my very livelihood. The sacred fire-ritual, offerings, oblations, the utterance of svāhā and vaṣaṭ, and various branches of knowledge—all depend on her. She is my everything, my source of satisfaction and truth. For many reasons, O king, I will not give you Śabalā.” Viśvāmitra, undeterred, spoke with heightened eagerness and intensity. “I will give you elephants adorned with golden chains and golden goads, their necks encircled with collars of gold. Fourteen thousand such golden elephants, and chariots made of gold drawn by four white horses. Eight hundred horses, adorned with tinkling bells, born of noble lineage and great strength, and a thousand and ten more—all for you, O steadfast one. A crore of cows, of various colors and ages—let the spotted one be given to me. As many jewels or as much gold as you desire, O best of twice-born, I will give you all that; let the spotted one be given to me.” Vasiṣṭha, wise and venerable, replied firmly, “I will not give you the spotted one under any circumstance, O king. This alone is my treasure, my wealth, my everything, my very life. The new and full moon sacrifices, and all the rites duly performed—these 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 would not give up Kāmadhenu, Viśvāmitra’s desire turned to action. He began to drag away the spotted cow, Śabalā. Distressed and weeping, the cow pondered her sorrow: “Abandoned by the supremely noble Vasiṣṭha, why am I, so miserable, being led away by the king’s men, filled with great grief? What wrong have I done to that great-souled sage, that he, seeing me innocent and devoted, abandons me, though he is righteous?” Tormented by these thoughts, Śabalā sighed again and again. Swiftly, she shook off the king’s men by the hundreds and rushed with the speed of the wind to the feet of the great-souled Vasiṣṭha. Weeping and crying out, her voice resounding like thunderclouds, she stood before Vasiṣṭha 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?” Vasiṣṭha, like one comforting a grieving sister, replied gently, “I do not abandon you, Śabalā, nor have you done me any wrong. But this mighty king is taking you from me by force. My strength is not equal to the king’s, especially today. He is powerful, a Kshatriya, and lord of the earth. His full army, crowded with elephants, horses, and chariots, bristling with banners, makes him even stronger.” Hearing this, Śabalā, skilled in speech, humbly replied, “They do not say that the strength of a Kshatriya is greater; O Brahman, the divine power of Brahmanic strength surpasses that of Kshatriyas. Your strength is immeasurable; Viśvāmitra, though of great might, is not stronger than you—your energy is unassailable. Command me, O great-splendored one, endowed with Brahmanic power; I shall destroy the pride, strength, and effort of that wicked one.” At her words, Vasiṣṭha, renowned and steadfast, said, “Release your power, destroyer of enemy forces.” Hearing his command, Surabhi, the wish-fulfilling cow, began to bellow. From her cries, she produced hundreds of Pahlavas, who came forth and destroyed all of Viśvāmitra’s army before his very eyes. The king, witnessing this, was overcome with rage, his eyes blazing with fury.