When King Viśvāmitra, eager and determined, approached the venerable sage Vasiṣṭha, he addressed him with respect, “O twice-born, give me Śabalā by right.” Thus spoken to, Vasiṣṭha, the foremost among sages, replied with calm righteousness, “O King Viśvāmitra, I will not give up Śabalā—not for a hundred thousand cows, nor for hundreds of millions. I will not surrender her 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 am able to perform offerings to the gods and ancestors, and she is my very means of sustenance. Upon her depend the sacred fire-rituals, the offerings and oblations, the utterance of svāhā and vaṣaṭ, and the pursuit of various branches of knowledge. All of this, O royal sage, rests upon her—she is my everything, my source of satisfaction and truth. For many reasons, O king, I cannot give you Śabalā.” Hearing this firm refusal, Viśvāmitra’s desire only intensified. With great eagerness and persuasive words, he offered, “I will give you elephants adorned with golden chains and golden 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, all for you, O steadfast one. I will give you 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.” But Vasiṣṭha, steadfast and unshaken, replied to the wise Viśvāmitra, “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.” Now listen, O Rāma, to what happened next. When the sage Vasiṣṭha would not give up Kāmadhenu, Viśvāmitra, unable to restrain his desire, began to drag away the spotted cow. As she was being led away by the great king’s men, the spotted cow, distressed and weeping, pondered in 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?” Troubled by these thoughts, sighing again and again, Śabalā swiftly 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, she stood before her master and spoke, her voice resounding like thunder, “O venerable one, son of Brahmā, why have you abandoned me, that the king’s soldiers are taking me away from your presence?” Vasiṣṭha, compassionate like a brother to a grieving sister, replied, “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 a powerful Kṣatriya, lord of the earth, and his full army, crowded with elephants, horses, and chariots, bristling with banners, makes him even stronger.” Śabalā, skilled in speech, humbly replied to the illustrious Brahmarshi, “They do not say that the strength of a Kṣatriya is greater; O Brahman, the divine power of Brahmanic strength surpasses that of Kṣatriyas. 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.” Thus addressed by her, Vasiṣṭha said, “Release your power, destroyer of enemy forces.” Hearing these words, Śabalā, also known as Surabhi, bellowed mightily and produced hundreds of Pahlavas. These warriors destroyed all of Viśvāmitra’s army before his very eyes. The king, enraged and his eyes blazing with fury, attacked and destroyed the Pahlavas with his weapons, both great and small. Seeing the Pahlavas afflicted by Viśvāmitra, Śabalā again produced fierce Shakas mixed with Yavanas, covering the earth with their numbers. Radiant and mighty, resembling golden filaments, armed with sharp swords and spears, and clad in golden garments, they swept over the battlefield. That entire army was consumed as if by blazing fires. Then the mighty Viśvāmitra unleashed his weapons, scattering the Yavanas, Kambojas, and Barbaras into confusion. Thus unfolded the wondrous and terrible conflict, born from the sage’s refusal to part with his wish-fulfilling cow.