As we have stated, the _Mahábhárata_ had its origin as an epic prior to B.C. 500. It was added to from time to time until it assumed its present great bulk. The kernel of the narrative, however, which appears to have dealt with the early wars between the Kurus and Panchalas, must be placed beyond B.C. 1000. Our narrative begins with the romantic stories which gathered round the names of the legendary ancestors of the Kauravas and the Pandavas. The sympathies of the Brahmanic compilers are with the latter, who are symbolized as “a vast tree formed of religion and virtue”, while their opponents are “a great tree formed of passion”. CHAPTER IX Prelude to the Great Bharata War Dushyanta and Shakuntala—Romantic Wooing—Birth of Bharata—Shakuntala's Appeal—Her Claim vindicated—King Bharata's Reign—King Hastin and King Kuru—King Shantanu's Bride a Goddess—Seven Babes drowned—Story of Satyavati—Vyasa, Poet and Sage—Bhishma's Terrible Vow—Fisher Girl becomes Queen—Marriage by Capture—A Childless King—Origin of Dhritarashtra, Pandu, and Vidura. Now the sire of the great King Bharata[189] was royal Dushyanta of the lunar race, the descendant of Atri, the Deva-rishi, and of Soma, the moon; his mother was beautiful Shakuntala, the hermit maiden, and daughter of a nymph from the celestial regions. And first be it told of the wooing of Shakuntala and the strange childhood of her mighty son. [189] _Pron._ bah´ra-ta or bhah´ra-ta. One day King Dushyanta, that tiger among men, went forth from his stately palace to go a-hunting with a great host and many horses and elephants. He entered a deep jungle and there slew numerous wild animals; his arrows wounded tigers at a distance; he felled those that came near with his great sword. Lions fled from before him, wild elephants stampeded in terror, deer sought to escape hastily, and birds rose in the air uttering cries of distress. The king, attended by a single follower, pursued a deer across a desert plain, and entered a beautiful forest which delighted his heart, for it was deep and shady, and was cooled by soft winds; sweet-throated birds sang in the branches, and all round about there were blossoming trees and blushing flowers; he heard the soft notes of the kokila[190], and beheld many a green bower carpeted with grass and canopied by many-coloured creepers. [190] The Indian cuckoo. Dushyanta, abandoning the chase, wandered on until he came to a delightful and secluded hermitage, where he saw the sacred fire of that austere and high-souled Brahman, the saintly Kanva. It was a scene of peace and beauty. Blossoms from the trees covered the ground; tall were the trunks, and the branches were far-sweeping. A silvery stream went past, breaking on the banks in milk-white foam; it was the sacred River Malini, studded with green islands, loved by water fowl, and abounding with fish.