Then Garuda, the great bird who soars through the sky and strikes terror into his enemies, swept down upon the Nishadas—those who lived by the river and ate fish. With swift, powerful movements, he gathered them up and devoured them in great numbers, satisfying his hunger as the lord of the skies. But as he continued, a Brahmin and his wife suddenly found themselves inside Garuda’s vast throat. The Brahmin, burning with the brilliance of a blazing coal, spoke from within to the mighty one who moved through the heavens. Garuda, recognizing the sacredness of the Brahmin, addressed him with respect, “O best of the twice-born, quickly leave my open mouth. For a Brahmin is never to be slain by me, no matter what deeds he may have performed.” The Brahmin replied, “This Nishadi is my wife—let her depart with me.” Garuda agreed at once, “Take the Nishadi as well and swiftly go. Compose yourself, for you have not yet digested my energy.” So the Brahmin and his wife exited Garuda’s mouth. After honoring the great bird, the Brahmin went his way, content. Once the Brahmin and his wife had departed, Garuda, king of birds, spread his mighty wings and soared into the sky with the speed of thought. As he flew, he saw his father and turned to greet him, offering due respect. The great sage, Garuda’s father, spoke affectionately, “Is everything always well with you, my son? Do you have abundant food among men? Where are you rushing so swiftly? Tell me, for I wish to know.” Garuda replied, “My mother is well, and so is my brother, and I am well too. But, father, I am never truly well when it comes to abundant food. I have been sent by the serpents to bring them the best soma, so that I may free our mighty mother from her bondage. Today, I shall bring it. My mother instructed me to eat the Nishadas, but even after devouring thousands, my hunger is not satisfied.” He continued, “Therefore, O lord, show me some other food, by eating which I may be able to fetch the nectar. Tell me, revered one, what food can remove my hunger and thirst.” His father answered, “There is an elephant who always drags the elder brother of the tortoise, his face turned downward. I will tell you, without delay, of the enmity between these two from their previous birth. Listen, my child, to the truth of their story—a tale that brings detachment and is for your good.” He began the tale: “In the division of their father’s wealth, two brothers quarreled. The elder was a great sage named Vibhavasu, prone to anger. His younger brother, Supratika, was also a great ascetic. Vibhavasu did not wish to share the wealth with his brother, but Supratika insisted on dividing it. Vibhavasu warned, ‘In division, O great ascetic, many faults arise. Many, deluded, desire to divide; but once divided, blinded by greed, brothers lose respect for one another. When separated, enemies in the guise of friends sow discord among them, and others, seeing them divided, cause them to fall into conflict. For those who are divided, destruction swiftly follows. Therefore, the virtuous do not praise the division of brothers.’ Yet Supratika continued to insist, day and night. At last, Vibhavasu, pressed beyond endurance, cursed his brother: ‘For those who do not heed the teachings of the elders and suspect one another, who cannot be restrained and desire wealth through division, you, Supratika, shall become an elephant.’ Supratika, in turn, replied, ‘You too shall become a turtle, dwelling in the water.’ Thus, by mutual curses, the brothers, deluded by greed, became an elephant and a turtle. Even as animals, the consequences of their anger and faults endured. They remained intent on mutual hatred, each proud of his own strength. In this very lake, both of great size, their ancient enmity continues. The mighty elephant approaches, and at the sound of his roar, the turtle rises from the water, disturbing the entire lake. Seeing the turtle, the elephant, with trunk coiled, leaps into the water, his tusks, trunk, tail, and feet all moving with force. The elephant shakes the lake teeming with fish, and the turtle, his head raised, comes forth for battle, full of might. The elephant is six yojanas tall and twice as long; the turtle is three yojanas high and ten yojanas in circumference. Both, maddened for battle and bent on each other’s destruction, employ all their strength to achieve what they think best. Bring that elephant, immense as a great mountain and terrifying in form, resembling a massive thundercloud, and eat it along with the nectar. Having said this to Garuda, his father performed auspicious rites and blessed him, saying, ‘May there be good fortune in your battle with the gods. A full vessel, brahmins, cows, and whatever else is excellent and auspicious—these, and blessings for your journey, will be yours, O egg-born one. As you fight the mighty gods, the Rig, Yajur, and Sama hymns, the purifying mantras, the sacrificial offerings, all secret teachings, and the entire Veda—these will strengthen you in conflict, O best of birds.’ Thus addressed and blessed by his father, Garuda departed. Soon, he saw pure water filled with many birds. Remembering his father’s words, the swift lord of the skies moved onward with tremendous speed, intent on his purpose.