Now hear the story as it unfolds in the sacred Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, beginning with the sixty-second sarga of the Bāla Kāṇḍa. Having taken Śunaḥśepa with him, the illustrious King Ambarīṣa, renowned as the best among men, rested at midday in the holy region of Puṣkara, O descendant of Raghu. As the king paused to recover his strength, Śunaḥśepa, himself celebrated and noble, arrived at Puṣkara. There, he beheld his maternal uncle, the great sage Viśvāmitra, absorbed in deep austerities amidst a gathering of sages. Weary and afflicted, his face drawn down with thirst and exhaustion, Śunaḥśepa approached Viśvāmitra. Overcome with distress, he fell into the sage’s lap and spoke with sorrow: “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. Then, he summoned his own sons and addressed them: “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.” Upon hearing their father’s command, his 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.” Viśvāmitra, angered by their words, his eyes reddened, spoke sternly: “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.” Thus, he pronounced a curse upon his sons. Turning to the distressed Śunaḥśepa, Viśvāmitra assured him of protection and well-being. He instructed him: “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.” Śunaḥśepa carefully took those two sacred verses and quickly addressed the lion among kings, 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 the words of the sage’s son, the king, filled with joy, went swiftly to the sacrificial enclosure, unwearied. With the approval of the officiating priests, the king marked Śunaḥśepa with a sacred sign, bound him to the post, and clothed him in red garments. Thus bound, Śunaḥśepa praised Indra and Indra’s younger brother with excellent words, as was proper. Then Indra, the thousand-eyed, pleased by the secret hymn of praise, granted long life to Śunaḥśepa. King Ambarīṣa, best among men, completed the sacrifice and obtained abundant fruit by the grace of the thousand-eyed one. Viśvāmitra, righteous-souled and of great austerity, remained at Puṣkara and performed further penance for another hundred years, O best of men. Now hear the sixty-third chapter in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Bāla Kāṇḍa. When a thousand years had passed, all the gods approached the great sage, who had bathed after his vow, wishing to grant him the fruit of his austerity. Brahmā, of immense brilliance, spoke these pleasing words: “You are a sage, blessed one, by your own virtuous deeds.” Having spoken thus, the lord of the gods returned to heaven. Yet Viśvāmitra, filled with great energy, undertook even greater austerity. After a long time, Menakā, foremost among the apsarases, began to bathe at Puṣkara, O best of men. The mighty and radiant son of Kuśika beheld Menakā there, her beauty incomparable, like lightning in a cloud. Overcome by the pride of desire, the sage addressed her: “Welcome, O apsaras! Please stay here in my hermitage. Grant me your favor, blessed one, for I am bewildered by passion.” Thus spoken to, the lovely Menakā took up residence in his hermitage. Indeed, a great obstacle to his austerity befell Viśvāmitra while she dwelt there, O Rāghava, for five years and five more. Those years passed pleasantly in the serene hermitage of Viśvāmitra. Then, when that time had elapsed, the great sage Viśvāmitra became as if ashamed, absorbed in anxiety and sorrow; a thought arose in the sage, filled with indignation, O descendant of Raghu.