In the beginning, the waters, the deities, and the sovereign order, together with Brahman itself, entered into the human body. Brahman took its place within, and Prajapati presided over this embodied form. The sun became the eye of the person, the wind his breath, and the gods entrusted his inner self to Agni, the fire. Thus, the wise recognize this person as Brahman, for within him all the deities reside—just as cows gather within a pen. This presence moves in threefold ways, pervading everywhere: with one measure it moves here, with another it moves there, and with a third it remains in place. The body, formed in the waters and nurtured within the mothers, is set within, and inside it dwells the shadow—thus it is called ‘shadow.’ Now, in the world of men and gods, the powers of arms and arrows, bows and swords, axes and all manner of weapons, together with the very resolve and intent of the heart—all these belong to Arbuda. To Arbuda, the seers pray: “Reveal these powers to us, that we may behold our enemies and witness the mighty ones.” They call upon the divine beings, their friends, to rise up and join together—both those who are seen and those who are hidden—to become protectors in Arbuda. “Rise up,” they urge, “take hold, bind and strike down the armies of our foes in Arbuda.” Arbuda is the name of the god, and Nyarbudi is the lord; together they encompass the midspace and the great earth. With these two, and with Indra, victory is pursued in battle. Again the prayer goes forth: “Rise up, divine beings in Arbuda, together with the army; break the enemies’ ranks and encircle them with enjoyments.” Seven noble ones, born in Nyarbuda, observe all—let them rise with the army when the offering is poured. The prayer turns fierce: “Let the wives of the enemies weep, their ears filled with wailing, their hair disheveled, as their men are slain and torn apart in Arbuda. Let women, longing for their sons, husbands, brothers, or kin, drag the corpses and wail in grief.” The birds of prey—vultures, crows, eagles, hawks—and beasts like jackals, along with the greedy ones, are called to feast on the remains of the enemies. Every wild beast, fly, and worm is invited to be satisfied with the corpse, with the excrement and carrion, with all that swells from the fallen. The vital breaths of the enemies are to be seized and gathered into the swelling; their homes and settlements are to depart, leaving them desolate, watched over by the swelling. The enemies are to be shaken and scattered in fear, pierced by the swelling’s wide jaws and strong arms. Their own arms and the deceit in their hearts will be confused, leaving nothing of theirs behind. Destroyers—strong, loud-voiced, and fierce—are summoned to run together, while the weeping, disheveled women gather over the slain. Dog-like nymphs, strange forms, the swelling itself, the one who stirs within the vessel, the biting, and the seeker of evil—all these are to be shown in the swelling, revealed to the enemies, and the mighty ones made visible. Hidden powers are invoked: the Khaḍūri, the wandering Chankramā, the dwarf-dweller Kharvikā, Gandharvas and Apsarases, serpents and other beings, demons—those with four fangs, the gnawers, the swollen, the bloody-mouthed, those of our kind and of others—all are called forth. In the swelling, the enemies and their roots are to be shaken out, and with Indra and Earth, the victorious are to triumph over the foes. The enemy, overwhelmed and crushed, lies slain in the swelling, as the victorious, flame-tongued, smoke-crested ones come with their army. With this swelling, Indra is invoked to strike down the enemies again and again; the lord of power is asked not to release the supplicant among them. Let the enemies’ hearts leap in fear, their breath rise up, and their mouths go dry—such fate is wished only upon the foes, not the friends. Those who are steadfast, unsteady, who turn away, who are deaf, enveloped in darkness, or who dwell in the bladder—all are to be revealed in the swelling for the enemies to see, and the mighty ones displayed. The swelling and the trisandhi are to pierce the enemies, just as Indra, slayer of Vṛtra, strikes down thousands. The forest trees, herbs, grasses, Gandharvas and Apsarases, serpents, gods, ancestors—all are invoked to reveal their forms in the swelling for the enemies to witness. The Maruts, gods, Āditya, Bṛhaspati, Indra, Agni, Dhātṛ, Mitra, Prajāpati, and the seers—all their lordship is with the swelling, watching among the enemies. All the divine lords are called to rise up and join together, to conquer the battle and stand firm in their stations. Again, the mighty ones are called to rise, joining together with their standards—serpents, other beings, demons—to pursue the enemies. Triṣandhi, with his red banners at dawn, is recognized as sovereign; those in the midspace, in heaven, on earth, and among men are asked to attend, with Triṣandhi in their hearts, removing evil speech. Iron-faced, needle-faced, and hooked-faced flesh-eaters, swift as the wind, are summoned to bind the enemies with Triṣandhi’s thunderbolt. Jātavedas and the Sun are asked to disappear the corpse and the multitude, so that the army of Triṣandhi may be well-disposed and under control. The divine people are called to rise with their army, receiving the beloved oblation of Triṣandhi. The four-footed, the sharp-toothed, and those struck by arrows are gathered for the cause of sorcery against the enemies, united with Triṣandhi’s army. The smoky-eyed one is to fly, the sharp-eared to cry out, and with Triṣandhi’s victorious army, the red banners are to be raised. Birds and flying creatures of the midspace and heaven are called to descend; wild beasts and flies to gather; vultures to devour the corpses. With the alliance established by Indra and Brāhmaṇa Bṛhaspati, the supplicant calls upon all the gods, invoking the Indra-alliance, that victory may be won here and beyond, and the enemies conquered.