In the midst of a grand sacrificial ritual, Indra, the king of the gods, seized the animal meant for the sacrifice. With the sacrificial beast lost, the priest approached King Ambarīṣa and spoke solemnly, “O King, the animal brought for the sacrifice has vanished due to your negligence. O lord of men, remember that faults destroy a king who does not protect his realm.” He continued, “This is a grave matter, O best among men. You must quickly bring the animal before the ritual proceeds further.” Hearing these urgent words from his preceptor, King Ambarīṣa, wise and illustrious, began searching among thousands of cows for the missing animal. He scoured various regions, towns, forests, and sacred hermitages in his quest. Accompanied by his son and wife, the noble descendant of Raghu eventually came upon the sage Ṛcīka, who was seated upon the Bhṛgu mountain. The king, radiant and humble, bowed before the great sage blazing with ascetic power, seeking his favor. After respectfully inquiring about Ṛcīka’s well-being, Ambarīṣa spoke, “If you are willing, sell your son to me for a hundred thousand cows.” He explained, “O illustrious Bhārgava, I have fulfilled my duty in searching all regions for the sacrificial animal, but none suitable can be found. For the sake of the ritual, please give me one son for the price.” Ṛcīka, mighty and resolute, 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 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. Generally, the eldest is beloved to fathers, and the youngest to mothers; thus I will protect the youngest.” When both sage and wife 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.” At the end of these words, the king of mighty arms spoke to the Brahmin, “With crores of gold, heaps of jewels and gems—” and, delighted, took Śunaḥśepa in exchange for a hundred thousand cows. The royal sage Ambarīṣa, famed and splendid, quickly mounted Śunaḥśepa onto his chariot and departed at once. After taking 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 his maternal uncle, Viśvāmitra, engaged in austerities with the sages. Afflicted and weary, his face downcast from thirst and exhaustion, Śunaḥśepa 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 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. Śunaḥśepa will have a protector, the sacrifice will proceed without hindrance, the gods will be gratified, and my word will be fulfilled.” Hearing their father’s words, Viśvāmitra’s sons, beginning with Madhucchandā, replied with pride and tears, “How can you abandon your own sons and save another’s child, O lord? We see this as improper, like eating the flesh of a dog.” Hearing these words, Viśvāmitra’s eyes reddened with anger as he spoke, “This has been spoken without fear, yet it is condemned even by righteousness; having disregarded my words, it is harsh and hair-raising. All of you, like the descendants of Vasiṣṭha, will eat dog meat by birth; for a full thousand years you shall remain on earth.” Having pronounced this curse upon his sons, the great sage then turned to the distressed Śunaḥśepa, ensuring his protection and well-being. He instructed, “Bound with sacred cords, adorned with red garlands and unguents, approach the Viṣṇu-post and, with words, invoke the fire. And, O young sage, you should sing these two divine verses at the sacrifice of Ambarīṣa; then you will attain success.” Thus, the tale of Śunaḥśepa and the noble king Ambarīṣa unfolds, revealing the interplay of duty, sacrifice, and the profound power of sages and their words.