A few days later, Drona went with his pupils for a long ride and a bath in the Ganga. Evening was upon the world and the last light of the sun bathed the river and the woods in soft gold. The Ganga was a picture of calm, flowing with hardly a ripple. Drona entered the water first. He stood in the knee-deep shallows, saying a prayer to the setting sun, to his ancestors in Pitriloka and to the Gods. The princes stood on the shore. They had laid their bows and quivers on the ground, because they must not bear arms while their guru offered worship.
Some dead logs floated downstream on the swiftly darkening current. The sun sank beyond the woods and the birds all sang together, as they nested in the living branches of the trees. Suddenly, the tranquility of the sylvan spot was shattered. One of the innocent looking logs on the river grew a demonic snout, gaping jaws, a bloated body and a lizard's threshing tail. A primordial monster seized Drona's leg and dragged him into deeper water.
It was a crocodile thirty feet long and Drona cried frantically for help. Only Arjuna moved and how he did! Bheema stood between him and his quiver. Yet, between Drona's first cry and his second, in a blur Arjuna had thrust his brother out of his way, scooped up his bow, pulled five arrows from his quiver and shot the armored monster through its eyes and heart.
The beast sank, its dark blood staining the clear water. Its grip on Drona's thigh went slack and, crying out Arjuna's name, the brahmana swam ashore. Now, as if waking from a dream, the other princes ran to help Drona. Arjuna laid down his bow and quiver. He was as calm as if he had been at moonlight practice in the palace yard in Hastinapura. Not a thought had disturbed him, no flicker of doubt. He had merely reacted to the situation, quicker than thinking, perfectly, like the immaculate warrior he was.
Drona embraced Arjuna. Then he held him at arm's length and gravely studied the prince's face. At last, he smiled, "I am going to reward you for saving my life. Purify yourself in the river."
He made his other disciples sit in a wide crescent. When Arjuna had bathed in the Ganga, Drona made him sit facing east in the twilight. The guru sat before his sishya. Drona held his arms stretched out toward Arjuna, palms open and facing up and murmured a mantra. As soon as he said the her- metic words, a pulsing, unearthly radiance shone upon them. Enfolding the master and his pupil, it separated them from the rest of the world. Then a blinding stab of light and a golden arrow lay in Drona's hands, shining in the gloom like a strip of sun. Its shaft had four small heads, plainly visible, breathing.
The others watched with their eyes riveted to Drona's hands. Drona said slowly, "Arjuna, receive the brahmasirsa from me. It is the weapon of the Father of the worlds and one of the greatest astras." Once more, now softly so the others could not hear, Drona whispered the mantra for that weapon.
He made Arjuna stretch out his hands, palms up and say the occult words after him. The astra with four heads vanished from the master's hands and it now lay in Arjuna's. Once more Arjuna repeated the mantra. The golden shaft rose out of his palms and melted into the prince's body, near his heart. He shuddered and sighed deeply.
Arjuna prostrated himself at Drona's feet. The guru said, "You may never use this weapon against a mortal man. Because once you summon it, if its fire is not quenched on the one against whom you call it, it will consume the very earth. Only against a great Asura or a Deva turned to evil may you invoke the brahmasirsa."
Drona raised Arjuna up and embraced him again. Smiling, he said, "You shall truly be the greatest archer in the world. Yes, I swear it."
Arjuna glowed and his brothers came and hugged him. But envy stung Duryodhana and the Kau- ravas like a serpent and their faces were dark.
