When Viśvāmitra, the eminent sage, had spoken to the assembled gods, they replied in unison, “So be it; let all these remain, and may good fortune be yours.” And so, outside the path of Agni, in the vast sky, those countless stars shone brightly among the heavenly lights, a sight wondrous to behold. The gods decreed, “Let Triśaṅku remain, head downward, like an immortal, and these radiant lights will follow the best of kings.” Thus, Viśvāmitra’s purpose was fulfilled; his fame spread far and wide, and he attained the heavenly world. All the gods praised him for his righteousness, and in the midst of sages, mighty ones, and ascetics, the gods again said, “So be it.” Then, at the conclusion of the sacrifice, all the great-souled gods and ascetics departed as they had come. Now begins the sixty-first sarga of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Bālakāṇḍa. Viśvāmitra, radiant and mighty, saw the sages preparing to depart and addressed all the ascetics dwelling in the forest, saying, “A great obstacle has arisen in the southern direction; let us seek another place to perform our austerities.” He continued, “In the vast western region, at Puṣkara, we shall practice our austerities in comfort. That forest is indeed pleasant for asceticism.” With these words, Viśvāmitra, full of immense energy, began fierce and unassailable austerities at Puṣkara, subsisting only on roots and fruits. At that very time, Ambarīṣa, the great ruler of Ayodhya, renowned for his virtue, began preparations for a grand sacrifice. But Indra, king of the gods, seized the sacrificial animal. When the animal was lost, the priest addressed the king, “O King, the animal brought for the sacrifice has been lost due to your negligence. Faults destroy a king who does not protect his realm.” He added, “This is a great atonement, O best among men. Quickly bring the animal before the ritual proceeds further.” Hearing his preceptor’s words, the wise and illustrious king searched among thousands of cows for the missing animal. He scoured various regions, towns, forests, and sacred hermitages. Accompanied by his son and wife, the descendant of Raghu came upon Ṛcīka seated on the Bhṛgu mountain. After bowing respectfully and winning the favor of the great sage blazing with ascetic power, Ambarīṣa addressed Ṛcīka. After inquiring about Ṛcīka’s well-being, the king said, “If you are willing, sell your son for a hundred thousand cows. O illustrious Bhārgava, for the sake of the sacrificial animal, I have fulfilled my duty; all regions have been searched, but I cannot find a suitable animal for the sacrifice. Please give me one son for a price.” Ṛcīka replied, “O best of men, I would never sell my eldest son.” Hearing these words, the mother of those great souls spoke to Ambarīṣa, “The venerable Bhārgava has said the eldest son cannot be sold. Know, O lord, that my youngest, Śunaka, is also dear to me; therefore, I will not give you the youngest son, O king. For generally, O best of men, the eldest is beloved to fathers, and the youngest to mothers; thus I will protect the youngest.” When both parents had spoken, Śunaḥśepa, the middle son, addressed them, “Father says the eldest cannot be sold, mother says the youngest; I think the middle one can be sold, prince, so take me.” The king of mighty arms, hearing this, spoke to the Brahmin, “With crores of gold, heaps of jewels and gems—” and, delighted, took Śunaḥśepa in exchange for a hundred thousand cows, O descendant of Raghu, and departed. The royal sage Ambarīṣa, of great splendor and fame, quickly mounted Śunaḥśepa onto his chariot and set out at once. Now begins the sixty-second sarga. Having taken Śunaḥśepa, the illustrious king, best among men, rested at Puṣkara at midday. As he rested, Śunaḥśepa, renowned and illustrious, came to the sacred Puṣkara and saw Viśvāmitra. Afflicted and weary, his face downcast from thirst and exhaustion, he saw his maternal uncle, Viśvāmitra, engaged in austerities with the sages. He fell into the sage’s lap and spoke, “I have no mother, no father, nor any relatives or kin. O gentle one, foremost of sages, you ought to protect me by righteousness. For you, best of men, are the refuge and creator of all. Let the king accomplish his purpose, let me have long and unending life. Having performed supreme austerity, may I attain the heavenly world. Be my protector, for I am without protector, with a benevolent heart. Like a father to his son, O righteous one, you ought to save me from sin.” Hearing these heartfelt words, the great ascetic Viśvāmitra comforted Śunaḥśepa in many ways, and then spoke to his own sons, “For the sake of whom fathers desire sons, wishing for good, for the benefit of the next world—now is that time come.