With half of its essence, nourishment is bestowed; with the other half, vigor increases in the immortal one. Thus, the mighty friend Varuna, son of Aditi, is strengthened—he, the powerful lord. The poets have spoken of his many forms, honoring the true-spoken ruler of both earth and heaven. In the worlds, there exists one who is eldest, from whom the fierce and splendid sacrifice arises. Born in a sudden moment, he drives away all enemies, and every power rejoices in his presence. Growing ever stronger and mighty, he brings fear to the enemy for the sake of the servant, protecting and destroying, ever victorious. All bow to this powerful one during the sacred offerings. To him, wisdom is given in abundance, for his powers arise again and again, twice and thrice. He is the sweetest of the sweet, releasing delight and honey, joining it with those who are honeyed themselves. Even as sages praise his victories in wealth and in battle, he is urged to strengthen his firm body, so that neither the evil-minded nor the sorrowful may cause him harm. With his presence, confidence fills the hearts of warriors in battle, for many opportunities for victory are seen. His weapons are urged forth with words, his powers are strengthened through prayer. He places his essence in both the lower and higher realms, dwelling within the home, establishing the mother and the moving one, and bringing forth many forms. Praise is offered to the one of vast stature and many paths, the strong, the best among those who have accomplished much. With might and great strength, he reveals the measure of the earth. These prayers, uttered in the vastness of heaven, are for Indra—the foremost, radiant lord of light, ruler of the great lineage, sovereign of himself. Even the swift, many-colored, ascetic ones belong to him. Thus, it is told that Atharvan, the great one of the vast heaven, spoke of his own body as Indra. The two sisters, the mothers, urge him onward, increasing his might and strengthening him. Turning to Agni, the prayer continues: “May my radiance, O Agni, be present in the summons; may we, as we kindle you, flourish in body. May the four directions bow to me; with your guidance, may we win the battle. O Agni, drive away the anger of others; as our protector, guard us on all sides. Let the hostile ones depart, let the evil-minded be subdued, let their awakened thoughts be scattered.” May all the gods be present at this summons: Indra, the Maruts, Vishnu, Agni. May the wide atmosphere and the broad world belong to us; may the wind blow according to our desire. May the gods sacrifice for us, may our wishes be fulfilled, and our minds be true. Let no sin come upon us; may all the gods protect us here. May the gods grant us wealth; may blessings and divine invocation be ours. May the divine priests sit for us; may we be unharmed and strong in body. May the six divine guardians make us heroic, and may all the gods rejoice here. Let no oppression or evil befall us; let not hateful wrongdoing come upon us. Three goddesses are invoked for great protection—for our offspring and our bodies, for abundance. May we not be deprived of children or of our own strength; Soma, king, may we not fall short before the hostile. Let the mighty one, invoked by many, grant us wide-reaching protection in this offering. O Indra, who delights in horses, be gracious to our offspring; do not harm us, do not take us away. The establisher, the ordainer, the lord of beings—god Savitar, the conqueror of hostility—is invoked, along with the Ādityas, the Rudras, and the two Aśvins, to protect the sacrificer from misfortune. Let all rivals be turned away; with Indra and Agni, let us drive them off. The Ādityas, Rudras, and those who dwell on high have made the fierce, discerning king for us. Indra, victorious in cows, wealth, and horses, is called upon to hear this sacrifice and invocation, and, delighting in horses, to be our leader. Now, the tale turns to Kuṣṭha, the sacred plant. Born on the mountain, strongest among plants, O Kuṣṭha, destroyer of fever, drive away fever from this place. Born of the mountain, offspring of the eagle, beyond the Himalaya, the Kuṣṭha plants hear the call and come, knowing the destruction of fever. The aśvattha tree, divine abode, stands in the third heaven; there, the gods found the very essence of immortality—the Kuṣṭha plant. A golden ship, with golden bindings, moved in the sky; there, the gods discovered the flower of immortality, the Kuṣṭha plant. Golden were the paths, golden the oars, golden the ships that brought forth Kuṣṭha. “Carry away this Kuṣṭha of mine, O plant,” the prayer goes, “take it away, remove it; make it a remedy for me.” Kuṣṭha, born among the gods, friend of Soma, set apart, be gracious to this one—for his breath, his life, his sight. Born in the north of the Himalaya, you were led to the eastern people, and there the highest names of Kuṣṭha were given. The highest is the name of Kuṣṭha, the highest is the name of your father; destroy all disease and render fever powerless. Having struck down the disease of the head and the fluids of the eyes and body, Kuṣṭha has removed all that, divine and potent. Night is your mother, the sky your father, Aryaman your grandfather; you are called Silācī, sister of the gods. Whoever drinks of you lives; you protect each person, nourishing and supporting all. You grow from tree to tree, flourishing like a maiden, victorious and steadfast, known as the touch-healer. Whatever harm has been done—by staff, by arrows, or by force—you are the remedy for that; release this man from such guilt. From the auspicious fig tree, the sacred fig, the acacia, the banyan, and the leaf—she, Arundhati, comes here. Golden-hued, fortunate, sun-colored, most beautiful—O Remedy, you proceed with truth, and Remedy is your name. Golden-hued, fortunate, powerful, with shaggy hair and sharp glance—you are sister of the waters, or of lac; the wind has become your soul. Silācī is your name, O Kāninī; Ajababhru is your father; you are yoked to the dark horse of Yama. The bridle of the horse, having fallen, clings to the trees; becoming a flowing, winged one, she, Arundhati, comes here. Thus, through prayer and invocation, through the praise of gods and the power of sacred plants, protection, healing, and victory are sought and celebrated among gods and mortals alike.