Summary: The Kshatriya (warrior) Vishvamitra is impressed by the wish-granting cow that belongs to the Brahmin Vashishtha, and sets out to take possession of the cow for himself.
Read the story below:
THE COW OF PLENTY
In the far-away past there lived hard by the Sone in Upper India a warrior-Prince and hero of ancient story of the name of Vishvamitra, son of King Gadhi. He went about the world at the head of a chosen band of valiant men, after the fashion of the knights-errant of old.
In the course of his wanderings he once chanced to come to the hermitage of Vashishtha, high-priest to the powerful Vedic king, Sudasa.
"Vashishtha is a great Sage," said Vishvamitra to himself. "Let me see how he can entertain this large army of mine."
Chuckling to himself at the perplexity he hoped to create, he went before Vashishtha and did him obeisance. "Thou art welcome to my humble hermitage with all your retinue," said Vashishtha to the Prince, guessing his thought.
"Nay," replied Vishvamitra, with feigned humility, "let me kiss your holy feet, and depart with your blessing. I dare not put you to the trouble of entertaining such a large body of men."
"Set your mind at ease about that," said the great Vashishtha, with a smile. He turned to his Cow of Plenty, called Sabala or Kamadhenu, which, as its name implies, had the miraculous power of furnishing its owner with whatever he desired, and said, "O Kamadhenu, entertain right royally this mighty Prince and his followers."
No sooner said than done. The Prince with all his army was treated to delicacy after delicacy such as had never before delighted mortal tongue.
Carried away by his covetousness, Vishvamitra fell before Vashishtha and, clinging at his feet, besought him to give him the Cow of Plenty.
"Aught else but that, O Prince," replied Vashishtha. "Without her I should be unable to entertain my guests and perform my sacrifices, duties indispensible to a Brahmin. She is worth more than all the kine of the world put together. There is nothing that could recompense me for parting with her."
Still the Prince prayed and cajoled, and cajoled and prayed by turns, but all in vain. At last he lost his temper and said to Vashishtha, "The son of the King of the World begs on his knees for your Cow, yet you, proud Brahmin, refuse to make him a gift of it. A Kshatriya never begs for a thing he has set his heart upon — he takes it by the strength of his right hand. Yet have I humbled myself on my knees for your Cow, but without avail. Now I seize her by force, by right of conquest as becomes a Kshatriya."
Without more ado he ordered his followers to carry away the Cow of Plenty; but before they could lay violent hands upon her she cried "Hamba," and lo! A herd of horned cattle sprang suddenly into existence from the ground beneath her feet and, bellowing fiercely, attacked the warriors and gored every one of them to death.
The news of the humiliation of Vishvamitra flew apace, and his hundred sons came to the rescue of their father. Vashishtha but looked upon them, and they all turned to ashes on the spot!
Thus baffled and humiliated by a mere Brahmin, Vishvamitra went into a wood and paid his devotions to Mahadeva (Shiva), until the God appeared before him and asked him to choose a boon.
"If it be your will, O God," said Vishvamitra to the Deity of Destruction, "equip me with divine weapons against my enemy."
"So be it. Behold them," said Mahadeva, and forthwith a number of weapons were placed in Vishvamitra's grasp. Armed with these he quickly made his way to the hermitage of Vashishtha to wreak his vengeance on him.
Arriving there he twanged his bow and discharged a shower of arrows of fire. The denizens of the wood were panic-stricken, and rushed hither and thither for shelter against the flames. The hermits fled to Vashishtha for protection, crying aloud, "The sacred wood is on fire! Save us, save us from destruction, O mighty Sage."
"Fear not! I will protect you," said the Sage to the panic-stricken hermits, and then, seizing his sacred staff, he exclaimed in a voice of thunder, "O wicked Vishvamitra, you have set our grove of penance on fire. Your sacrilege has earned you punishment, and soon shall you meet with your deserts."
"Let us see on whom the punishment falls," cried Vishvamitra, at the same time loosing his arrow of fire at Vashishtha, who caught it on his staff, where it broke into pieces.
Vishvamitra again discharged fresh arrows of fire and raised a conflagration, but Vashishtha put it out with a touch of his staff.
Then the Sage hurled his staff at Vishvamitra, his eyes darting forth living fire, while from his every pore issued a stream of flames. Vishvamitra cried out: "Call back your weapon! Call back your weapon! I confess myself vanquished. Virtue is mightier than Valour."
Having learnt his lesson, Vishvamitra wished to win for himself the rank of a Brahmin; so to this end he began to practise great austerities, hanging himself bat-like, head downwards. The Gods were frightened lest he might aspire to the throne of Indra, so they brought Vashishtha to him and said: "Arise, Vishvamitra, for now you are a Brahmarshi."
"If I am a Brahmarshi," replied Vishvamitra, "let the mighty Sage Vashishtha, the head of the Brahmins, acknowledge me so."
"Thou art indeed a Brahmarshi, as the Gods would have me say," declared Vashishtha, and Vishvamitra became as great a Sage as Vashishtha himself. He is called "Vashishtha vacha Brahmarshi," that is a Brahmarshi by the acknowledgment of Vashishtha.
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