While the land of Brindāban was rich in the love which Krishna flooded
it withal, the heart of Kangsa, the brother of Devaki, was filled with
fear for his life; for it was known to his quaking heart that the eighth
child of Devaki still walked the earth, and also he knew that writ it
was that the hand of that child would lay him low.
Far and wide he sought the child, the boy, whom he felt was the God who
had come to bring to the virtuous and lowly man peace, and sweep from
the land the oppressor and tyrant.
The marvelous deeds of Sree Krishna, his beauty and strength, the might
of his love, had been heralded far and wide, and all the then known
world was turned towards the forest land of Brindāban with expectant eye
and thirsting heart. For ever the heart of man doth pant for and turn to
the place where love doth dwell.
When tales of Krishna's wonderful life and glorious deeds came to the
ears of Kangsa, he felt that the boy whom Yasodā and Nanda reared as
their own, in sweet Brindāban, was the child that he sought to kill when
it came from the womb of Devaki, and when by the hand of fate itself he
had been baffled.
And the dull, hungry flame of hatred and anger rose like fire in this
bad man's heart, and an atmosphere as of hell about him rose, and all
his peace slipped to the dust, and his secret fear that like a coiled
serpent had lain in silence now uncurled its length and lifted its head
and darted here and there to strike the prey that aroused it from its
slumber.
And long he sat and meditated evil against the youth that he could not
slay in spite of his kingship. For the Name of Krishna was a balm to the
hearts of all men who had ever heard it spoken, and though king he was
and ruler over many, he knew that the strength of the fame of Krishna,
the boy bred in Brindāban, more potency possessed than the name of
Kangsa, the king. For he was ruler over the bodies of men only.
His name dwelt on the tongues of men who prattled with words alone, and
those words embodied not the thought from which they sprang—words that
praised where praises were not due, and applauded where it was not
deserved.
Men who dared not note the indignity of his motives and their results,
nor discriminate between the righteousness of his action and his
blood-dyed deeds, vexed his ears with fawning acclamations to-day
because of his power, yet to-morrow blamed and hissed him out of sight.
But Krishna was ruler over all hearts by the might of his wondrous love.
He was the Divine Incarnation, the Inner Call, the satisfied softness
that all felt, compelling all, yet demanding naught. Uncovered, frank.
He stood forth inviting all to look on Him to Know and to love and be
saved,—too deep for the human understanding to measure, too large for
human heart to embrace, yet acquainting each man with Himself.
This love still untaught, still gazing on Him who was all encased in
love, all made of love, all teeming with love, they knew themselves of
His creation, and Him their Sovereign Lord.
And Kangsa knew that by knowing Him the world would boldly recoil from
the sickening deeds of his cruelty, the foul plots of his life, would be
laid bare to all, and the world in rebellion would rise. And he knew,
too, that he in his worldly powers as a weakling would be, by the side
of the cow-herd Krishna.
So among his councillors an edict went forth that festivities be held in
honor of the Bow, on the fourteenth day of the lunar month, and that
sacrifices in great abundance be made.
He also said unto them that preparations be made, and pavillions be
raised, and the arena cleared, and the amphitheatre festooned with
flowers and banners; and proclamations were issued that all the
inhabitants of his whole kingdom be invited to his capital and that the
people of Braja be included therein.
And last he sent his ambassador in great pomp and glory to call to his
palace the seventh son of Devaki, Balarām, and the eighth son, Krishna,
to witness the sports and partake in the wrestling contests and show to
the kingdom their dexterity and strength.
Thus spoke Kangsa, and called to Akrura and made him the ambassador that
was to bring Krishna and Rāma to Mathura. But this also he ordered:
"When here they are brought, see that the strongest and mightiest
wrestlers of my kingdom be brought to match them and fairly or foully to
lay them low." And he added: "If here death fails to meet them withal,
keep the infuriated elephant close to the gate, so that he in his
madness may tread out the life of Krishna at my command." These were his
orders, and Akrura, his ambassador, bowing to him, departed to Braja.