In ancient times, when the world was alive with the powers of gods, spirits, and sacred plants, a most potent herb arose among all others. This herb, goat-horned and kingly, sharp in its might, was invoked to drive away all evil that threatened the well-being of mortals. Its presence was a shield against harm. There were forces that disturbed the order of the world—dancers crested with feathers, the lords of the Gandharvas and Apsarases, beings of seductive power and celestial allure. Against them, the ritualist declared, “I break your virility, I take away your strength, so that you may not trouble the world of men and women.” To aid in this task, the fierce weapons of Indra were called upon—hundred-pointed, forged of iron and gold, radiant and terrible. With these, Indra was asked to drive away those Gandharvas who would seize the sacred offerings, and all those who lurked below, hidden in the shadows, seeking to disrupt the sanctity of sacrifice. The prayer continued, “Drive away all who lurk below, those who bring sorrow, and the spirits that dwell in the waters. O sacred plant, destroy the demons and prevail in your power.” The Gandharva, ever elusive, would attach himself to women, appearing in many guises: as a dog, a monkey, a wild-haired boy, or even as a beloved to the eye. But through the strength of sacred knowledge, he was banished and destroyed, his mischief undone. The connection between Gandharvas and Apsarases was acknowledged: “Your wives are the Apsarases, O Gandharvas, and you are their husbands. Depart, O immortals, from the realm of mortals—do not mingle with them.” Turning to the game of dice, the invoker called upon the Apsaras, skilled and divine, who bursts forth and brings the dice together, who makes them fall and scatter in the game. She who dances around the board, gathering the dice, was entreated to grant victory and abundance, to bring fortune and prevent others from taking away hard-won wealth. Another Apsaras was invoked, joyful and radiant, delighting in the game, her presence bright yet fierce. The invocation reached further, calling upon those who move along the rays and beams of the sun, protected by the swift bull who circles all the worlds. This guardian was asked to accept the offering and, together with the steed in the midspace, to protect the calf. The steed in the midspace was implored to guard the calf, to keep it safe amid the grass and within the pen, so that the prosperity of the herd might flourish as is fitting, bringing success and well-being. The prayers then turned to the cosmic order of abundance. On earth, for Agni, the wish was for food to be equal and plentiful, just as it is for the fire-god. “May all show me respect, and may abundance be mine.” The earth was seen as a cow, Agni as her calf, and with this union, the supplicant asked for nourishment, strength, long life, offspring, and wealth. In the midspace, for Vāyu, the wind, the same wish for abundance and respect was made. The midspace was the cow, Vāyu her calf, and from this bond, the blessings of food, strength, and prosperity were sought. In heaven, for Āditya, the sun, abundance was again invoked. Heaven was the cow, Āditya her calf, and from their union, the fruits of nourishment, long life, and wealth were prayed for. The directions themselves were honored, with offerings made to the Moon. The hope was that, just as offerings were made to the Moon in every direction, all beings would bow down in respect. The directions were seen as cows, the Moon as their calf, and with this, strength, nourishment, long life, and wealth were drawn forth. Within Agni himself, the fire moved, the son of seers, protector from curses. Reverence and homage were offered, with a wish not to take part in the divided share of the gods’ work, but to remain whole and blessed. Jātavedas, the all-knowing fire, with his seven mouths, was offered oblations, and the prayer was for these offerings to be accepted. Protection was then sought from all directions against those who might assail the sacrificer. From the east, those who offered to Jātavedas were to be turned away by Agni as priest; from the south, by Yama; from the west, by Varuṇa; from the north, by Soma. From below, Earth would protect; from the midspace, Vāyu; from above, Sūrya. Even from the intermediate regions, Brahman himself would act as priest, turning back all who meant harm, each time a counter-charm was invoked. Amidst these prayers, the eternal one was remembered—the one whose mantra is powerful, arisen from the womb, immortal and mighty, ever-growing and noble, unassailable and shining like the serpent Ahi. Trita, the supporter, upheld the three worlds. He who first established the laws, who took many forms, entered the womb, and understood the unspoken speech, was honored. He shed his form for burning, became flowing gold, and pure ones followed their own nature. Here, the immortal names were established, and the clans were invited to partake in the garments of immortality. When the two, advancing, reached the ancient crossing—standing firm in being and non-being, unaging—the poet and the mothers of the dry one, longing for the yoke, were asked to assign a lord for the offspring. Homage was offered to the great one of vast might, the poet honored with poetry. When earth and sky came together, the enclosing space expanded, embracing all. Seven boundaries, crafted by poets, were invoked, and one was called to come near. The pillar of iron stood firm in the nest of likeness, in the expanse of the many paths and supports. The speaker moved among the immortal and the mighty, performing the vow of the Asura, with the Asura spirit within, a delight to the wise. Shakra might place the treasure, or the giver of offerings might attain what is sought through strength. Finally, the son called upon his father, the eldest kshatriya, seeking well-being and proper conduct. “O Varuna, let me see your sacred places; from your established order, I fashion forms.” Thus, in the weaving of these prayers and hymns, the world’s order was affirmed, the gods honored, the spirits appeased, and abundance, protection, and wisdom sought in reverence and hope.