Upon the sacred Earth, the devotee calls out to Mother, seeking to be firmly established in auspiciousness, united with Heaven and blessed with prosperity and glory. The prayer is for harmony between earth and sky, and for one's place in the world to be secure and fortunate. In the midst of this invocation, the devotee turns to the reed, urging it to grow and move on, for its place is not here. The lead is offered as its portion, and with it, all disease among cattle and people is sent away, banished to the lowest depths. Through the power of curses—both ordinary and imitative—the devotee drives out all forms of disease and death. Death, destruction, and hostility are expelled; enemies who hate are handed over to Agni, the sacred fire, to consume the flesh of the dead. Those whom the devotee despises are offered to Agni, asking for protection from their ill will. If Agni the flesh-eater, or a tiger, or any other threatening being has entered the cattle-pen, the devotee makes an offering of beans and butter to drive them far away, wishing them to depart to the waters or to other fires. Whatever harm the angry ones have caused in wrath, especially against the dead, the devotee seeks Agni's favor to restore and rekindle goodness. The prayer continues, invoking the Ādityas, Rudras, Vasus, Brahmā, the givers of wealth, and Bṛhaspati to grant long life for a hundred autumns. If the flesh-eating Agni has entered the home, the devotee removes him for the ancestral offering, asking that he kindle the sacred fire in the highest abode. The flesh-eating Agni is driven far away, and the stream of enemies is sent to Yama, the king of the dead. Here, the god Jātavedas, Agni, is called to carry offerings to the gods, knowing their proper place. The flesh-eating Agni, who slays with the thunderbolt of death, is commanded by the household fire to take his share among the ancestors' world. Appeased and praised, the flesh-eating Agni is sent along the paths of the ancestors, not to return by the ways of the gods, but to remain and awaken among the ancestors. The bright, pure, shining fires are kindled together for well-being, purifying and radiant. The kindled Agni leaves the enemy behind, advances, and purifies again with his brightness. The god Agni, bright, ascends to the heights of heaven; released from impurity, the devotee seeks freedom from harm and misfortune. In this bright Agni, enmities are cleansed away, and the devotee becomes worthy of sacrifice, pure, longing for Agni to carry them beyond to long life. The bright, shining, destroyer, and voiceless ones, knowing their purpose, drive disease far away, to a distant place. If among the horses, heroes, cows, or goats, the flesh-eating Agni born of a person is present, he is driven away. From other men, cows, and horses, the flesh-eating Agni, born for the sake of life, is expelled. In Agni, whom gods and men purified, the devotee anoints him with clarified butter, urging him to ascend to heaven. Kindled and invoked, Agni is asked not to depart, but to shine in the very place so that all may see the sun by day. The devotee asks for graciousness in the lead, the reed, Agni, the bright fire, the uncut branch, the headpiece, and the support. Having removed impurity from the head and strengthened the crown, cleansing with the unmeasured river, one becomes pure, fit for sacrifice. Death is urged to go beyond, to follow a path other than that leading to the gods, spoken to with sight and hearing, hoping that many heroes may accompany him. The living turn away from the dead, and today, the invocation of the gods brings auspiciousness. The living come forward for dance and laughter, strong and ready to speak in the assembly. A boundary is set for the living, so that none may cross over to the purpose of death. May they live a hundred autumns, many in number, placing a mountain between themselves and death. The devotee rises, choosing old age as their portion, striving in order, standing firm. May the builder, with good offspring and harmony, lead all to long life. As days proceed in order, as seasons move together with their times, the latter should not abandon the former; the Creator is asked to arrange lifespans accordingly. The stony river is to be crossed; friends are urged to take hold together, be strong, and cross over. Here, those who are evil are abandoned, and without sickness, the auspicious ones cross to the further shore with their prizes. The call is repeated: rise up, cross over, friends, for the stony river flows. Inauspicious ones are left behind, and the auspicious cross to the further shore with their prizes. Embracing the radiance of the universal gods, pure, shining, and bright, all pass over the footprints of evil, rejoicing for a hundred winters in victory. Crossing over by the northern paths, filled with air, leaving the lower paths behind, thrice seven times the sages departed, repelling death by stepping over with their feet. Those who step over the place of death establish longer life, sitting together to drive death from the assembly; then, being alive, they may speak in the gathering. Women, not widowed, good wives, touch themselves with ointment and clarified butter; without tears, without sickness, rich in treasures, they ascend first to the womb of birth. With offerings, these two are set apart; with sacred utterance, they are arranged. The ancestral portion for the fathers is made undiminished, and with long life, these are released together. The fire placed by the fathers within their hearts, immortal among mortals, is sought by the devotee, wishing to receive that god within themselves, asking for mutual non-harm. Having removed the flesh-eaters from the household fire, the departed ones are sent to the right side, making what is dear to the fathers, to the self, and to the priests, truly dear. The fire takes the twofold share of wealth, consuming what is left; the fire of the eldest son, if not removed from flesh-eating, remains. Whatever is ploughed, won, or gained with wealth does not belong to the mortal if the flesh-eater is not removed. One becomes unfit for sacrifice, loses splendor, cannot partake of the offering, and cuts off the produce of the field and the milk of the cow if following the flesh-eater. Again and again, with greedy desires, the mortal speaks of distress; the wise, knowing the flesh-eaters, keep them away from the fire. Houses must be seized and rebuilt when a woman's husband dies; the knower of the sacred word should approach, who removes the flesh-eater. Thus, through these sacred invocations and actions, the devotee seeks purity, prosperity, long life, and harmony with the gods and ancestors, striving always to keep away disease, death, and impurity, and to uphold the sacred order of life.