Vasiṣṭha, the revered sage, stood firm before King Viśvāmitra, declaring, “All my sacred rites depend upon her, O king—there is no doubt. Why speak at length? I will not give up the wish-fulfilling cow.” Thus, he refused to surrender Kāmadhenu, the miraculous cow. But Viśvāmitra, unwilling to accept defeat, seized the cow and began to drag her away. The spotted cow, distressed and weeping, pondered her fate 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?” she wondered. “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 and sighing again and again, the cow swiftly broke free from the king’s men, shaking them off 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 thunderclouds, she stood before the sage 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 gently replied, as if to a grieving sister whose heart was scorched by sorrow: “I do not abandon you, Shabala, 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.” Shabala, skilled in speech, humbly responded: “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, the renowned Vasiṣṭha said, “Release your power, destroyer of enemy forces.” Hearing his words, Surabhi, the wish-fulfilling cow, bellowed, and from her cries sprang forth hundreds of Pahlavas. These warriors destroyed all of Viśvāmitra’s army before his very eyes. Enraged, Viśvāmitra, his eyes blazing with fury, unleashed his weapons and destroyed the Pahlavas. Seeing the Pahlavas afflicted, Shabala again produced fierce Shakas mixed with Yavanas. The earth was soon covered by these radiant, mighty warriors, resembling golden filaments, armed with sharp swords and spears, clad in golden garments. That entire army was consumed as if by blazing fires. Viśvāmitra, undeterred, unleashed his weapons, throwing the Yavanas, Kambojas, and Barbaras into confusion. Witnessing his adversaries bewildered, Vasiṣṭha urged Shabala to create by her yogic power. From her bellowing were born Kambojas, radiant as the sun; from her udder emerged Barbaras, armed with weapons. From the region of wombs came the Yavanas; from the land of excrement, the Śakas arose; and in her hair follicles dwelled the Mlecchas, the Hāritas, and the Kirātas. By these diverse warriors, all of Viśvāmitra’s forces were destroyed in an instant—elephants, horses, and chariots alike. Seeing his army struck down, a hundred sons of Viśvāmitra, bearing various weapons, advanced in fury. Then, exceedingly enraged, the great sage Vasiṣṭha, foremost among reciters of mantras, advanced upon them. With a mere roar, he burned them all up. Those sons of Viśvāmitra, along with their horses, chariots, and foot soldiers, were reduced to ashes in a moment by the great-souled sage. Bereft of his forces, Viśvāmitra was seized by shame and deep thought. Like the ocean deprived of its surge, like a serpent with broken fangs, like the sun eclipsed, he was suddenly bereft of brilliance. Deprived of sons and strength, dejected like a bird with clipped wings, all his power and enthusiasm gone, he fell into despair. He appointed one son to rule the kingdom, instructing him to govern the earth according to the duty of a Kshatriya, and then departed for the forest. He journeyed to the slopes of the Himalayas, frequented by Kinnaras and serpents, and undertook severe austerities there to win the favor of Mahādeva. After some time, the lord of the gods, Śiva, the bull-bannered one, appeared before the great sage Viśvāmitra, ready to grant a boon. “For what purpose do you practice austerities, O king? Speak what you desire. I am the giver of boons—let the boon you seek be declared.