phant in the pride of his new arms, was filled with fierce joy, as he pictured to himself the overthrow and ruin of the Brahman sage. Hastening to Vasishtha's hermitage, he launched his dreaded darts, till the saint's dwelling perished utterly in scorching flame. Men, birds, and beasts fled aghast, and brought the dismal tidings to their lord. But he, nothing daunted, cried wrathfully that Viswamitra's folly had sealed his doom, and that he should perish in his sin that very day. No whit affrighted, Viswamitra came forth to the fray, and, with scornful countenance, plied the sage with weapon after weapon so strange and dreadful that none of merely human power could stay their malice. Vasishtha, however, parrying all with his magic wand, stood unharmed and serene. Then Viswamitra, as a last resource, took that dart which bears the name of Brahma, the Creator. So awesome was this weapon, that, when the king essayed to use it, the inhabitants of heaven itself, and of the lower regions, quailed. But Vasishtha, strong in the power of mighty spells, absorbed the Brahma weapon into his person. Sparks and smoke brake forth from every pore of his skin, and his whole body glowed like the sceptre of Yama, lord of the dead.
Loud and jubilant were the praises of the sage's friends; and Viswamitra, abashed and disconsolate, confessed that before the Brahman's sanctity the warrior's might was poor and weak. But, instead of giving up the struggle, he prepared to undergo further purifying austerities, determined now that he would compass nothing less than the attainment of Brahman sainthood itself.
