Long ago, a mighty dragon named Vritra lived upon the earth. This demon was the enemy of gods and humans alike. One day he swallowed the seven rivers of the earth and imprisoned them within his great mountain. Then he lay down on the mountaintop to guard the waters he had captured. Day and night he lay awake, prepared to defend his conquest against any being who challenged him.

The fiery sun rose each day as always. It burned the earth with its blazing rays. Trees, grass, and all forms of plant life gradually shriveled and died, for river water no longer supplied the moisture necessary for them to thrive upon the earth. People prayed to the gods for help, but none of the gods was strong enough to combat the great dragon-demon. As days passed, the gaunt and greedy figure of Famine began to stalk the land. More and more people were starving. At first they tried to buy food. Then they begged for food. Finally, in desperation, they cried for food. Their cries fell upon a great silence, for even the storehouses of the rich were empty, and scarcely a trace of food remained upon the earth.

Weak with hunger, the people fell upon the dry and barren earth and pleaded with the gods to heed their prayers. The gods gazed upon the earth with sorrow in their hearts, knowing that they were powerless against such a deadly foe as Vritra. But Indra was determined to help the dying humans. He was the youngest of the gods, but he intended to prove himself the bravest and strongest.

One by one, he picked up three bowls of soma, a sweet, intoxicating drink, and he drank them down. With each drink he became stronger and stronger. Finally Indra knew that he had become the mightiest of the gods. He took his great weapon, the deadly thunderbolt, in his right hand and set out to fight Vritra. He knew that he would find the dragon-demon reclining upon his mountaintop, watching and waiting for a god who would be courageous enough to attack him.

As Indra approached, the dragon prepared for battle. Unlike the gods, Vritra had neither hands nor feet to defend himself, but his mouth terrified gods and humans alike. Inflamed with anger, the demon exhaled a foggy mist, shutting out the rays of the sun and shrouding the earth in blackness. Then he spewed forth blinding lightning, deafening thunder, and a cutting storm of hailstones.

To Vritra’s surprise, Indra showed no fear of the dark. The lightning did not blind his eyes, the thunder did not threaten his ears, and the hailstones did not slash his skin. The young god calmly raised his deadly weapon, and when the dragon’s next bolt of lightning illuminated the scene, Indra hurled his great thunderbolt at Vritra. The missile flew straight as an arrow and lodged firmly in the dragon’s flesh.

The blow crushed the demon’s spirit and shattered his body with one stroke. The dragon tottered upon the mountain peak and then fell to the base far below, where he lay like the severed branches of a tree chopped from the trunk.

Vritra’s mother came forth to avenge her son, but Indra was undaunted by the sight of another fearsome demon. He summoned his strength and hurled his thunderbolt at her also, killing her as he had killed Vritra. She fell to the ground near her son, lying near him in death as a cow rests near her calf.

Indra now freed the imprisoned waters. With his weapon he split apart the mountainside, opening the sealed outlet and releasing the seven rivers. The waters rushed straight down the mountainside and swept across the land to the sea, roaring as noisily as a herd of cows.

When the seven rivers once again flowed across the earth, moisture soaked through the parched soil of every land. Parched roots drank their fill and sent renewed life coursing through the trunks of dying trees. Greedy seeds sprouted, quickly growing into nourishing grasses. Thirsty humans drank their fill and lived to eat a new crop of life-sustaining plants. Famine retreated from the sight of plenty as a lion backs away from a pack of hungry wolves.

Indra, the brave god, confronted the great dragon Vritra in battle and won. Indra, the mighty bringer of rain, relieved the drought and restored the fertility of the earth. Indra, the supreme god, rescued those who walk the earth from certain death. Indra, who carries the mighty thunderbolt in his hand, rules all that moves and all that rests, all that is aggressive and all that is peaceful. He alone rules the people of the earth as their king, enclosing them as the rim of a wheel encloses the spokes. Whenever they need him, he comes to their aid.