Arjuna and the Hunter

Preparing for war

The Pāṇḍavas had lost everything in the game of dice and were living in exile in the forest. Everyone knew that when the exile ended, war would come. Arjuna, the greatest archer of his age, was told that to face what was coming he would need the weapons of the gods — and above all, the weapon of Śiva himself: the Pāśupata.

So Arjuna left his brothers and Draupadī and went alone into the high Himālaya. There he began austerities. In the first month he ate fruit every third day; in the next, every sixth; in the next, once a fortnight. In the fourth month he lived on air alone, standing on his toes with his arms raised. The heat of his tapas began to trouble the sages of the mountain, who went to Śiva.

The boar

Śiva smiled. He took the form of a Kirāta — a wild mountain hunter, dark and powerful, bow in hand — and Pārvatī came with him as a hunter-woman, followed by a crowd of spirits dressed as hunters.

Just then a demon named Mūka, taking the form of a huge boar, charged at Arjuna to kill him. Arjuna seized his bow Gāṇḍīva and fired. At the very same instant the Kirāta fired too. Both arrows struck the boar together, and it fell dead.

The quarrel

Arjuna turned on the hunter. “This was my prey. I aimed first. Why did you shoot? You have broken the law of the hunt.” The Kirāta only laughed. “This forest is mine. The boar was mine. If you are such a great archer, prove it.”

Arjuna fired at him — arrow after arrow, the arrows that had defeated armies. The hunter took them all on his body as if they were flowers. Then something happened that had never happened before: Arjuna's quiver, the gift of Agni that could never run empty, ran empty.

He struck the hunter with the end of his bow, and the hunter simply took Gāṇḍīva from his hands. Arjuna drew his sword, and it shattered on the hunter's head. He fought with his fists, then wrestled him with all his strength — and the hunter crushed him in his arms until Arjuna fell senseless to the ground.

The garland

When Arjuna came to, he was bruised and humbled. He understood that he could not win by strength. He made a Liṅga of clay, worshipped it and placed a garland of flowers on it, praying to Śiva for victory.

Then he looked up — and saw the same garland on the head of the Kirāta.

Arjuna fell at the hunter's feet. The disguise dropped away, and Śiva stood before him with Pārvatī at his side. Arjuna begged forgiveness for fighting his own Lord. Śiva raised him up. He was pleased, he said — Arjuna's courage and skill had no equal among men.

The Pāśupata

Śiva gave him back Gāṇḍīva and his inexhaustible quivers. Then he gave Arjuna what he had come for: the Pāśupata, Śiva's own weapon, and taught him how to wield it and how to withdraw it — warning him never to use it against a lesser enemy, for it could destroy the world. Soon after, the other gods came and gave Arjuna their weapons too.

It is one of the most loved stories of Śiva: the Lord who comes disguised as an outsider, who tests his devotee to the very end of his strength, and who is finally reached not through victory but through surrender.