Hear now the tale woven from the sacred verses, a hymn of protection, blessing, and the gentle power of night. In the presence of the divine, the people spoke with reverence: “We have declared, ‘Let not the waters be harmed,’ and we have called upon Varuṇa, O thousand-powered one. For this reason, release us from every misfortune that may befall us.” They invoked the blessings of Mitra and Varuṇa, praying that these mighty deities would accompany the sacred ointment, follow it far, and return again, bringing enjoyment and well-being. The ointment, a potent charm, was entreated: “Lead away every harmful spell, just as a debt repays a debt. Whether the spell has been cast or not, let it depart from our home. Be the eye of the charm, O remover of evil, and hear our plea.” They asked that all evil dreams—those lurking among the people, the cows, and within the house itself—be removed by the beloved one, that none should be harmed. This ointment, they remembered, was born from the strength and vigor of the waters, from Agni, from Jātavedas. It was fourfold and mountain-born, carried by the directions and the regions, and so they prayed it might be auspicious. They tied the fourfold ointment with care, wishing that all directions would be fearless for the wearer, that they might stand firm as the sun, and that all peoples would bring tribute in respect. The people were instructed: “Wear one gem, make one, bathe with one, and drink with one. May this fourfold ointment shield us from the snares of the four Nirṛtis, the bringers of misfortune.” They called upon Agni to protect them with fiery power—bestowing breath, inspiration and expiration, life, brilliance, vigor, energy, well-being, and prosperity. They invoked Indra's strength, Soma’s gentleness, Bhaga’s favor, and the might of the Maruts, each for the same blessings, sealing each invocation with a sacred “svāhā.” Prajāpati, the lord of creation, was said to bind the untied amulet first, bestowing strength. The people bound it for life, brilliance, vigor, and power, trusting the untied one to protect. They prayed that the amulet would stand upright, ever vigilant, keeping harm from traders and sorcerers alike, driving away adversaries as Indra does with his might. They boasted of their resilience: “A hundred strikes and slayings have not overcome us, for Indra has placed sight, breath, and strength within us. The untied one protects.” They clothed themselves in Indra’s armor, the armor of the overlord of the gods, asking that all the gods would lead them again and that the amulet would shield them. This amulet, they believed, contained a hundred powers and a thousand breaths. Like a tiger, one should stand firm against all enemies, so that any who would strike are themselves struck down, and the amulet gives protection. Anointed with ghee, sweet with honey, rich with milk, endowed with a thousand breaths and a hundred origins, the amulet was a giver of vigor—auspicious, joyful, strong, and abundant. It was without rival, a destroyer of rivals, ruler over its kind, and they prayed that Savitar would make it so. As night approached, she was addressed as the one who stretches across the earth, who approaches with her lights and stands in the great abodes of heaven, her darkness spreading forth. None had seen her farthest shore or her youthful form; all things enter into her as she moves. The people pleaded, “May we reach your farthest, most blessed limit unharmed, O night.” They spoke of night’s seers: ninety-nine, eighty-eight, and seven sevens; sixty-six, fifty-five, forty-four, and thirty-three; twenty-two and eleven—their numbers vast and mysterious. With these guardians, night was asked to protect her children, to shield them from harm that day. They prayed that no evil-wisher or ill-wisher would have power over them, nor the thief of cattle, nor the wolf of sheep. Let the thief of horses and the demon among men be powerless, let the thief be bound by another’s rope and depart by distant paths. Night was asked to silence the wolf’s jaws and strike down the thief in the thicket. “In you, O night, we dwell, and in you we sleep; be awake as we rest. Grant protection for our cattle, our horses, and our people.” The people entrusted all things—those within and without—to night’s encompassing care. They asked that night surround them for the sake of dawn, and dawn for the sake of day, with radiant hands. They sought protection from all that flies, creeps, or prowls in the mountains, and asked night to guard them from behind, before, from the north, and from below, for they were her singers. They remembered those who watched through the night, the wakeful guardians of all cattle, who kept vigil over their lives and herds. Night’s true name, they said, was known—Ghee-anointed—and Bharadvāja, the sage, knew her well. They prayed that she, the knower, would watch over their wealth. They praised night as an active maiden, youthful and self-restrained, belonging to Savitar and Bhaga, bright as a horse, gracious and splendid, filling heaven and earth with greatness. She surpassed all things—profound, lofty, and unsurpassed even by the most renowned. The shining night, following her path, stood with blessings, like Mitra with his ordinances. They praised the excellent, fortunate, well-born night, praying for a good mind and protection from dangers, whether from men, cattle, or the fortunes of prosperity. Night shone with the strength of the lion, the power of the panther, the brilliance of the tiger and leopard, the whiteness of the horse, the vigor of man, and at dawn she created many forms. They asked that the auspicious night, mother of the cold and follower of the sun, be gracious, and that she heed the hymn offered in all directions. As night delighted in their hymn like a king, they prayed: “May we be victorious and all-knowing, O radiant one, as you fade away at dawn.” Thus, through invocation and praise, the people entrusted themselves to the care of the gods, the power of sacred amulets, and the gentle, watchful embrace of night, seeking protection, prosperity, and peace.