Let Triśaṅku, with his head downward, remain as an immortal in the heavens, and let these radiant lights follow the best of kings. Thus, Viśvāmitra, having fulfilled his vow and purpose, gained undying fame and ascended to the heavenly realms, praised by all the gods for his righteousness. In the midst of the assembled sages, the mighty and the ascetics, the gods declared, “So be it.” Then, O best of men, all the great-souled gods and ascetics departed as they had come, their task complete at the end of the sacrifice. Now listen to the sixty-first sarga in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Bālakāṇḍa. Viśvāmitra, radiant and full of splendor, saw the sages preparing to depart. He addressed the forest-dwelling ascetics, “A great obstacle has arisen in the southern direction. Let us go elsewhere to continue our austerities.” He suggested, “In the vast western region, at Puṣkara, we will comfortably practice our asceticism; that forest is indeed pleasant for such endeavors.” Having spoken, the great sage, possessing immense energy, led them to Puṣkara and there practiced fierce, unassailable austerities, sustaining himself on roots and fruits. At that very time, the illustrious king Ambarīṣa, ruler of Ayodhya, began preparations for a grand sacrifice. But as he made ready, Indra seized the sacrificial animal. When the animal was lost, the priest spoke to Ambarīṣa, “O King, the animal brought for the sacrifice has been lost due to your negligence. O lord of men, faults destroy a king who does not protect his duties. This is a grave atonement; quickly bring the animal before the ritual proceeds.” Hearing his preceptor’s words, the wise and illustrious king searched among thousands of cows for a suitable animal. He searched through many regions, towns, forests, and sacred hermitages. Accompanied by his son and wife, the descendant of Raghu came upon the sage Ṛcīka, seated on the Bhṛgu mountain. The king, radiant and humble, bowed before the great sage, seeking his favor, and addressed him respectfully. After inquiring about Ṛcīka’s well-being, Ambarīṣa 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 and searched everywhere, 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 this, the mother of those noble children 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.” Then the king of mighty arms, pleased, spoke to the Brahmin, “With crores of gold, heaps of jewels and gems—” And so, delighted, the king took Śunaḥśepa in exchange for a hundred thousand cows and departed. The royal sage Ambarīṣa, resplendent and renowned, quickly mounted Śunaḥśepa onto his chariot and set out at once. Now listen to the sixty-second sarga. Having taken Śunaḥśepa, the illustrious king, best among men, rested at Puṣkara at midday. As he rested, Śunaḥśepa, weary and renowned, came to the sacred Puṣkara and saw Viśvāmitra. Afflicted and exhausted, his face downcast from thirst and fatigue, he beheld 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 him in many ways, 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. This boy, son of a sage, seeks refuge with me. My sons, do what is pleasing by giving him your very life. All of you, who have performed virtuous deeds and are devoted to righteousness, become the sacrificial victim for the king and satisfy the fire.