Ambarīṣa, the royal sage, approached the family of the sage Ṛcīka, seeking a son to serve as the human offering required for his great sacrifice. He spoke directly to Ambarīṣa, saying, “O tiger among men, the venerable Bhārgava has declared that the eldest son cannot be given away or sold.” Then, with equal affection, he added, “Know, O lord, that my youngest, Śunaka, is also dear to me; therefore, I cannot give you the youngest either, O king.” He explained further, “For generally, O best of men, the eldest is beloved to fathers, and the youngest to mothers. Thus, I am bound to protect the youngest.” As the sage and his wife voiced their decision, their middle son, Śunaḥśepa, stepped forward and addressed them, saying, “Father says the eldest cannot be sold, and mother says the youngest cannot be given. I see that the middle one can be given, O prince—so take me.” Hearing this, the mighty-armed king responded to the Brahmin, “With crores of gold, heaps of jewels, and precious gems—” and, delighted, he accepted Śunaḥśepa in exchange for a hundred thousand cows, O descendant of Raghu, and prepared to depart. The illustrious Ambarīṣa, radiant and renowned, quickly seated Śunaḥśepa on his chariot and set out at once. After this, the sixty-second sarga begins. Having taken Śunaḥśepa, the noble king, best among men, paused to rest at Puṣkara at midday, O descendant of Raghu. As the king rested, Śunaḥśepa, renowned and illustrious, arrived at the sacred Puṣkara and caught sight of Viśvāmitra, his maternal uncle, who was engaged in deep austerities with other sages. Weary, afflicted, and his face downcast from thirst and exhaustion, Śunaḥśepa approached and fell into the sage’s lap, uttering words of despair: “I have no mother, no father, nor any relatives or kin.” He pleaded, “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 anguished words, the great ascetic Viśvāmitra comforted Śunaḥśepa in many ways, then summoned his own sons and addressed them: “For the sake of whom fathers desire sons, wishing for good and 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.” But when the sage’s sons, beginning with Madhucchandā, heard their father’s words, they 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.” Viśvāmitra, angered by their response, his eyes reddened, rebuked them: “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 turned to the distressed Śunaḥśepa, assuring him of 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. O young sage, you should sing these two divine verses at the sacrifice of Ambarīṣa; then you will attain success.” Śunaḥśepa, carefully receiving these two sacred verses, hastened to address Ambarīṣa: “O lion among kings, great in wisdom, let us go quickly. O king of kings, end your vow and proclaim the completion of the rite.” Hearing this, the king, filled with joy, swiftly proceeded to the sacrificial enclosure, tireless in his purpose. With the agreement of the officiating priests, the king marked Śunaḥśepa with a sacred sign and bound him to the sacrificial post, clothing him in red garments. Thus bound, the sage’s son praised Indra and Indra’s younger brother with excellent hymns, as was proper. Pleased by these secret hymns of praise, Indra, the thousand-eyed, granted Śunaḥśepa the boon of long life. The king, best of men, completed his sacrifice and obtained abundant fruit by the grace of Indra. Viśvāmitra, too, righteous-souled and steadfast in his austerities, remained at Puṣkara and continued his penance for another hundred years. When these thousand years were complete, the gods themselves approached the great sage, who had bathed after fulfilling his vow, eager to grant him the fruit of his austerity. Brahmā, radiant with immense brilliance, spoke these pleasing words: “You are a sage, blessed one, by your own virtuous deeds.