O Rāma, listen to the wondrous tale of the steadfast sage Vasiṣṭha and the powerful king Viśvāmitra, and the wish-fulfilling cow Śabalā, who was the heart of their contention. Once, Viśvāmitra, the mighty king, approached the great sage Vasiṣṭha and earnestly requested the gift of Śabalā, the divine spotted cow. Vasiṣṭha addressed the king with unwavering resolve, saying, “O royal sage, all that I am, my satisfaction and truth, depend entirely on her—there is no doubt. She is my everything.” He continued, “For many reasons, O king, I cannot give you Śabalā.” Thus, Vasiṣṭha firmly refused the king’s request. But Viśvāmitra, his desire undiminished and his eagerness intensified, spoke with great passion: “I will give you elephants adorned with golden chains, golden goads, and collars of gold. I offer you fourteen thousand such golden elephants, and chariots made of gold drawn by four white horses. I will give you eight hundred horses of noble lineage and great strength, decked with tinkling bells, and a thousand and ten more besides, O steadfast one. I will grant you a crore of cows of various colors and ages—only 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; only let the spotted one be mine.” Yet, when thus addressed by the wise Viśvāmitra, the venerable Vasiṣṭha replied without hesitation, “I will not give you the spotted one under any circumstance, O king. She alone is my treasure, my wealth, my everything, my very life. The new and full moon sacrifices, and all the rites I perform, depend upon her, as do all my rituals. Why speak at length? I will not give up the wish-fulfilling cow.” Undeterred by Vasiṣṭha’s steadfastness, Viśvāmitra’s desire turned to force. When the sage would not yield Kāmadhenu, Viśvāmitra began to drag away the spotted cow. As she was being led away by the king, the distressed and weeping Śabalā 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?” Lost in her anguish, sighing again and again, Śabalā suddenly broke free, shaking off the king’s men by the hundreds. With the speed of the wind, she rushed to the feet of the great-souled Vasiṣṭha. Standing before him, weeping and crying out, her voice thundered, “O venerable one, son of Brahmā, why have you abandoned me, that the king’s soldiers are taking me away from your presence?” Hearing her sorrow, the Brahmarshi Vasiṣṭha gently replied, as if to a grieving sister, “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 army—crowded with elephants, horses, and chariots, bristling with banners—makes him even stronger.” But Śabalā, skilled in speech, humbly replied to the illustrious Brahmarshi, “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 mighty, 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, Vasiṣṭha said, “Release your power, destroyer of enemy forces.” At his command, Śabalā bellowed, and from her arose hundreds of Pahlavas, fierce warriors. They fell upon Viśvāmitra’s army and destroyed it before the king’s very eyes. Enraged, Viśvāmitra, his eyes blazing with fury, struck back, destroying the Pahlavas with his weapons. Seeing the Pahlavas afflicted, Śabalā again produced, by her divine power, fierce Shakas mixed with Yavanas. The earth was soon covered with these warriors—radiant, of great might, resembling golden filaments, armed with sharp swords and spears, and clad in golden garments. The entire army of Viśvāmitra was consumed, as if by blazing fires. The mighty king then unleashed his weapons, scattering the Yavanas, Kambojas, and Barbaras, throwing them into confusion. Beholding his enemies bewildered by Viśvāmitra’s weapons, Vasiṣṭha urged the wish-fulfilling cow to create by her yogic power yet again. From her bellowing were born Kambojas, radiant as the sun; from her udder emerged Barbaras, armed with weapons. From her womb came the Yavanas, from her excrement the Śakas, and in her hair follicles dwelled the Mlecchas, Hāritas, and Kirātas. By these hosts, in that very instant, all of Viśvāmitra’s forces were utterly destroyed—his elephants, horses, and chariots, all swept away before the power of the sage and his wish-fulfilling cow.