Then, in that great soul—hungry and agitated—anger flared up, fierce as if it could consume the worlds. With his mind ablaze, he addressed his disciples, “Behold the terrible calamity, dreadful as a blazing fire, that arises from the punishment due to one who acts without foresight! Surely, one who has committed destruction, fallen into misfortune along with his followers, and touched the very flames of ruin—such a one faces no doubt in his fate. “Because he has committed such a grievous and dreadful sin, this wicked-minded one shall be struck by an unparalleled rain of dust. The evil king, though he possesses land, attendants, armies, and vehicles, if he acts in sin, shall surely meet his end. Let the Lord of Justice shake the land of this wicked one, for a hundred yojanas around, with a mighty rain of dust. All beings here, whether moving or unmoving, will quickly perish because of this rain of dust. “As far as the domain of punishment reaches, up to the sacrificial ground and the hermitage, there shall suddenly fall a rain of dust for seven nights.” Having thus spoken, burning with anger, the sage then turned to the resident of the hermitage and instructed, “Remain at the edge of the settlement.” As soon as Ushanas spoke these words, the people dwelling in the hermitage quickly left that region and took up residence outside its bounds. Then, having addressed the ascetics, he spoke to Arajā, “O most wicked-minded one, remain here in the hermitage, composed and steadfast. Stay here, O sinless Arajā, within this hermitage, shining beautifully for a hundred years, as far as a yojana extends.” Hearing her father’s command, Arajā, daughter of Bhṛgu, greatly distressed, replied, “So be it.” Having thus spoken, the sage Bhārgava departed to another dwelling. In seven days, as declared by the knower of Brahman, the place was utterly reduced to ashes. Therefore, O man, the territory of Daṇḍa, up to Mount Vindhya, was cursed by Ushanas, O Rāma, because of the outrage that had been committed. From that time onward, O descendant of Kakutstha, it has been known as the Daṇḍaka forest; thus have I related all this to you, O Rāghava, as you asked. Now, O hero, the time for worshipping the twilight has come; these great sages, O Rāma, stand all around with water pots filled and ready. O tiger among men, having performed the water-rites, they worship the sun with hymns practiced by all the sages, hymns composed by Brahmā and others. When the sun had set, O Rāma, and the water-rites were completed, Rāma, taking the sage’s words to heart, began to worship the twilight. Thus did Rāghu’s descendant commence that sacred twilight worship, in that delightful forest region adorned with beautiful trees. There, by the sacred river, upon the great mountain adorned with flocks of cuckoos, in a garden alive with the calls of many birds and teeming with all kinds of animals, lions and tigers roamed, and the place was surrounded by a multitude of birds. The vulture and the owl had lived there for many years. But then, the vulture, his mind set on wickedness, claimed the owl’s dwelling as his own, and thus a quarrel began between them. “Rāma, lotus-eyed king of all the world,” the sages said, “let us quickly approach and determine whose dwelling this shall be.” The vulture and the owl, both burning with anger and unable to endure each other, swiftly approached Rāma, their minds agitated by discord. Hostile to one another, they touched his feet; then, seeing the lord of the Raghu lineage, the vulture spoke first: “Among gods and demons, you are regarded by me as foremost; you surpass even Bṛhaspati and Śukra in wisdom, O great-minded one. Knowing the highest and lowest among beings, you are like another Indra among mortals; difficult to gaze upon like the sun, weighty as the Himalaya. You are as deep as the ocean, as a guardian of the world you are Yama; in patience you are equal to the earth, and in swiftness you resemble the wind. You are the teacher, possessing all virtues, O Rāghava, you are of Viṣṇu’s form; intolerant of injustice, unconquerable, victorious, master of all weapons and their use. “Hear, O lord of gods, what I wish to convey, O best of men: this dwelling was formerly mine, gained by the strength of my arms, O master. The owl has seized it, especially near you, O king; such is his wicked conduct, for he transgresses your command. With the punishment that ends life, O Rāma, you should discipline him.” When the vulture had spoken thus, the owl replied, “Hear, O lord, what I wish to declare with single-mindedness, O king. From Soma, Indra, Sūrya, Kubera, and Yama, a king is born, O Rāma, and becomes somewhat human; but you are the all-pervading god, devoted to Nārāyaṇa. “You are called Soma, O king, when proper action is considered; you rightly protect from afflictions, for you are the destroyer of darkness. In punishment for faults among the people, you remove the fear of sin; you are giver, striker, and protector, thus you are like Indra for us. Unassailable among all beings, you are regarded as fire by your brilliance; by constant austerity you destroy sins, thus, O Rāma, you are like the sun. O best of kings, you are directly equal to Kubera, or even superior to the Lord of Wealth; yet the prosperity of a wife always depends upon the disposition of the mind. By his treasury, Kubera is wealthy and thus, in splendor, he is equal among all beings, both stationary and moving.