As the weary leaders of the monkey troops gathered, their hearts heavy with despair, they listened to a voice—broken by grief—yet even hearing it, suspicion clouded their minds. They could not trust the words spoken, for the actions of the speaker—a great vulture—made them wary. As they sat together, resolved to fast until death, the sight of the vulture intensified their grim determination. “He will devour us all,” they thought, fearful that, weakened by hunger, they would become his prey. Yet, among themselves, the monkeys reasoned: “If, as we sit here fasting, he does not eat us, then perhaps our task will be accomplished, and we may find success even now.” With this resolve, they made their decision. Angada, prince among monkeys and son of the mighty Vali, descended from the mountain peak and addressed the waiting bird. “O venerable bird,” Angada began, “there was once a powerful monkey king named Riksharaja, my noble ancestor. His two sons, Sugriva and Vali, were both renowned for their righteousness and strength. Vali, my father, became famous throughout the world for his deeds. In the illustrious Ikshvaku line, there was Rama, son of Dasharatha—a great king and chariot-warrior—who entered the Dandaka forest with his brother Lakshmana and his devoted wife Sita, all in obedience to his father’s command and the path of righteousness. “But Sita was seized by Ravana, taken by force from Janasthana. Rama’s father’s friend, the king of vultures named Jatayu, saw Sita being carried away through the sky. He valiantly confronted Ravana, making the demon lose his chariot and forcing him to set Maithili down. Yet, weary and old, Jatayu was slain in battle by the powerful Ravana. Honored by Rama for his sacrifice, the noble vulture attained the highest state. “Afterward, Rama formed a bond of friendship with my uncle Sugriva. It was Rama who killed my father Vali, who had confined Sugriva and his counselors. Sugriva was then installed as king, made lord of all monkeys. At his command, we monkey leaders were sent forth to search for Sita. We scoured the forests, but could not find her—just as one cannot see the sun’s rays at night. “In our search, we thoroughly explored the Dandaka forest, only to unknowingly enter a cave opened by Maya’s magic. There, the month allotted for our mission by the king slipped away. Now, having exceeded the time given, we have resorted to fasting out of fear—fear that if Rama, Sugriva, and Lakshmana are angered, there is no hope of life for any of us who have gathered here.” Hearing these sorrowful words from the monkeys, who had lost all hope, the vulture’s voice resounded with emotion as he replied, tears glistening in his eyes. “O monkeys, my younger brother was Jatayu—the very one you spoke of, slain in battle by the mighty Ravana. Because of my old age and the loss of my wings, I could do nothing to avenge my brother’s death. I have no strength left. “Long ago, after the slaying of Vritra, both Jatayu and I, desiring victory, soared swiftly toward the blazing sun. We sped through the sky, but when we reached the sun’s midpoint, Jatayu began to falter, scorched by the sun’s rays. Overcome with affection, I shielded him with my own wings, but my wings burned and I fell upon the Vindhya mountains. Since then, I have lived here, hearing nothing of my brother’s fate.” When Sampati, brother of Jatayu, had spoken thus, Angada replied, “If you have heard all I have told you, O Sampati, and if you know, tell us—where is the dwelling place of that demon Ravana? Whether he is near or far, if you know, please reveal it to us.” Sampati, eldest brother of Jatayu and full of great energy, spoke comforting words to the monkeys. “My wings are burned and my strength is gone, but with words alone I will give the highest help to Rama. I know the worlds of Varuna, and even the three strides of Vishnu. I know of the battles between gods and demons, and the churning of the nectar. Whatever task of Rama’s remains, it must first be aided by me, though age has sapped my vigor and my life-breaths are weak. “A young woman, beautiful in form and adorned with all ornaments, was seen by me being carried away by the wicked Ravana. She was crying out, ‘Rama! Rama!’ and ‘Lakshmana!’—that radiant woman, casting off her ornaments and shaking her limbs in distress. Her fine silk, radiant like sunlight atop a mountain, shone on the dark demon as lightning on a rain cloud. From her cries for Rama, I believe her to be Sita. Listen, and I will tell you the dwelling place of that demon. “Ravana, son of Vishravas and brother of Vaishravana, dwells in the city of Lanka.” Thus, hope was rekindled among the monkeys as Sampati revealed the secret they so desperately sought.