At the sacred pressing, the priests gathered, their voices rising in song, invoking Indra, the much-invoked and generous one, for strength and prosperity, as one would call for the bounty of a cow. They knew that when their hymns reached him, Indra never withheld the gift of wealth, rich in cattle. Perhaps he would go forth to the cattle-rich enclosure of the foe-slayer, and with his powers, ward off their enemies. With reverence, they prayed: “Indra, bring us wisdom as a father gives to his sons. Teach us, much-invoked one, on this path, that we may attain living light. Let not unknown or hostile men, nor evil dwellers, overtake us. With you, O hero, we shall always cross the deep waters safely.” Their voices called for the greatest and most powerful fame, for Indra, the strong one with the thunderbolt in hand, whose beautiful jaws have filled both shining worlds. They invoked him, the mighty one, support of people, king among gods, the treasure. May all hostile powers drink destruction for them; may their enemies be easily subdued. In awe, they proclaimed: “Even if, O Indra, you had a hundred heavens, a hundred earths, or more, not a thousand thunders, nor the suns, nor all that is born between the two worlds, could match you. You have stretched forth, O powerful bull, with your great might, pervading all with your strength; come to our aid, O bountiful one, in the cattle-rich enclosure, O wielder of the thunderbolt, with your splendid aids.” They sought mastery and wealth, praying: “O Indra, as much as you are, so much may I be master; may I cherish the praiser, O giver of wealth; may I not bestow upon the wicked. May I learn, for the one who magnifies you, day by day, to grant wealth wherever he desires; for, O bountiful one, there is no other, not even a father, who is a giver of riches like you.” Again and again, they repeated their wishes, longing for Indra’s favor and the ability to reward those who praise him, and not the wicked. They desired to learn the art of giving wealth, for Indra alone, not even a father, is the true giver of riches. Indra was invited to come, radiant and tawny, to the pressed libations purified by slender streams. Impelled by prayer, accompanied by the wise, he was called to the hymns of the singers, to place himself at the pressed libation for their protection. The priests urged one another: “Speak not of anything else, O friends, nor fall into harm; praise Indra, the mighty one, together at the pressing, and repeatedly recite hymns.” Indra was praised as a bull, unconquered, strong as a cow among men, a destroyer of foes, a uniter, a doer of both, the greatest, the master of both sides. Whatever people called upon him for, they wished their hymn to be for him, for their increase today and always. The wise and noble surpass others in speech and deeds; Indra was asked to approach with manifold forms and bring the prize nearest for their aid. With prayer, yoked with prayer, the priests yoked Indra’s two bays to the common seat, holding the chariot firm. Indra, knowing and wise, was invited to the Soma. The ruddy, milked, pure juice was offered to Indra, the bull among men. Desiring the pressed Soma, Indra came from the cow, from the sacrificial vessel, to drink all. Whatever food was placed in the highest heaven, they asked Indra to bring that delight day by day, accepting with heart and mind, and to drink the pressed Somas set forth. Born for strength, Indra drank Soma; his mother declared his greatness. Indra stretched out the wide midspace, and by battle made a path for the gods. If the priests must fight with those who think themselves mighty, who stand firm with their arms, or with warriors assembled for battle, they prayed that with Indra as their ally, they would win that renowned contest. The foremost deeds of Indra were declared, as well as the new acts he had performed. When his adversaries could not withstand his power, then Soma became his alone. All the world, on every side, is Indra’s pasture, whatever he beholds with the eye of the sun. Indra alone is the lord and guardian of cattle, and the priests wished to enjoy the wealth he bestows in due offering. Bṛhaspati was invoked alongside Indra, as the rulers of heavenly and earthly wealth, to grant riches to those who praise them, even for fame, and to always protect with blessings. Bṛhaspati, who with force propped up the ends of the earth, seated in the threefold abode, with his roar, was established by ancient seers, shining in wisdom, with sweet speech. The swift ones, rejoicing, surrounded Bṛhaspati, the clear-sighted protector. Bṛhaspati was asked to guard the source of that broad, ever-flowing, milk-yielding stream. Those who speak farthest, who are highest and righteous, sat near Bṛhaspati. For him, the hollowed ones, the milked from the rock, poured forth honey all around the abundant one. When first born, in the highest heaven of great light, Bṛhaspati, with seven mouths and born of sacred chant, drove away darkness with his seven rays. With Sūṣṭubh and Ṛk verses, with his troop, he shattered Vala, the enclosing one, with his roar; Bṛhaspati, the summoner of offerings, bellowing, drove forth the lowing cows. Thus, to the Father, to the All-Gods, to the mighty one, sacrifices, reverence, and oblations were offered. The priests prayed to Bṛhaspati for good offspring, heroic, and lords of riches. Like a skilled archer aiming at the target, or one adorned, the wise brought forth praise. With speech, the noble uttered the hymn, calling Soma and Indra. With milking, they sought the cow, their companion, and awakened the ancient Indra. Like a full vessel, rich in goods, unstinted, they stirred up the hero to grant the gift of wealth. They wondered what Indra was enjoying, and asked him to restrain himself, though they heard he was not to be restrained. Their prayer sought the share of wealth, the portion of the treasure-knower. People called upon Indra in their true needs, standing together in assembly; whoever had an offering made Indra his ally—the hero does not desire friendship with one who does not press Soma. He who eagerly offered strong, pure Somas, abundant as unfailing wealth, would see Indra strike down enemies, rivals, and foes, and in the morning, slay Vṛtra for him. All praise was placed in Indra, the bountiful, who had shown favor; even from afar, the enemy would fear him, and all glories would bow before him for the priests. Thus, through song, prayer, and offering, the sacred story of Indra and Bṛhaspati unfolded, full of reverence and hope for blessings, wisdom, protection, and abundance.