Sampāti, the aged king of vultures, began to speak to the assembled monkeys with a heavy heart. “I saw the wife of Daśaratha’s son, Rāma—the noble daughter of Janaka—bereft of her ornaments and silks, overwhelmed by the weight of her sorrow. Her hair was unbound, and she called out the names of Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa in her anguish. This, dear ones, is the time that has passed, just as the most eloquent have declared. “Supārśva told me all these things in detail, yet even after hearing them, I found myself unable to act. For how can a bird without wings accomplish anything? Still, whatever I am able to do, using my words and wisdom, I will do. So listen now to what I say, relying on your courage and strength; with my counsel and understanding, I will do what pleases you all. “Indeed, whatever task belongs to Rāma is mine as well—of this, have no doubt. You are all discerning, strong, and resolute. Sent by the king of monkeys, you are formidable even to the gods, and the arrows of Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, feathered with eagle plumes, are ready for battle. Those arrows are enough to restrain the weapons of all three worlds. Surely the ten-headed Rāvaṇa possesses great strength and energy, but for you, who are capable, nothing is impossible. Therefore, let there be no more delay—let a firm decision be made, for the wise do not linger when action is needed.” Having thus spoken, the narration moves to the next chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Kiṣkindhā Kāṇḍa. After performing the sacred water-rites and bathing, the monkey chiefs gathered around Sampāti on the beautiful mountain, surrounding him on all sides. Sampāti, filled with joy and confidence, spoke again as Angada and all the monkeys listened in silence and attention. “Listen to me, O monkeys, as I recount the truth about the Maithilī, Sītā, as I know it. Long ago, I fell upon the peak of this Vindhya mountain, my body afflicted and scorched by the burning rays of the sun. After six nights, I regained consciousness, but I was weak and disoriented, unable to recognize anything around me. Then, as I gazed at the oceans, mountains, rivers, lakes, forests, and all the regions, my understanding gradually returned. “I realized that this was indeed the Vindhya, full of peaks and caves, teeming with joyful flocks of birds, on the southern shore of the ocean. Here stood a sacred hermitage, greatly revered even by the gods, where the sage Nishakara practiced severe austerities. For eight thousand years, that righteous sage dwelled on this mountain, and after he ascended to heaven, I made my way down from the summit of Vindhya with great difficulty and pain, traversing the earth covered in sharp darbha grass. “Desiring to see that sage, I came here, troubled and weary. Both Jatayu and I had often visited him before. Near his hermitage, fragrant winds blew, and every tree was laden with flowers and fruit. Approaching the sacred hermitage, I took shelter at the root of a tree, waiting to see the venerable Nishakara. Soon, I saw the sage from afar, radiant and formidable, having completed his ablutions, facing north as he returned. “Bears, hyenas, tigers, lions, and various reptiles gathered around him as he approached, as if living beings were drawn to a giver of life. When the sage arrived at the hermitage, these creatures departed, just as the king’s ministers withdraw when he enters. The sage, seeing me, was pleased and entered the hermitage; after a short while, he emerged and asked my purpose. “He said, ‘Gentle one, seeing the state of your feathers, I know your wings have been scorched by fire, and even your life breath remains with difficulty. I have seen two vultures before, swift as the wind, kings among your kind, brothers who could assume any form at will. You are the elder, Sampāti, and Jatayu is your younger brother. Assume a human form and come take hold of my feet. Tell me, what is the cause of your affliction? How did you lose your wings? Who has brought this suffering upon you? Tell me everything as I ask.’ “Hear now the next chapter in the Kiṣkindhā Kāṇḍa of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. “I accomplished that difficult and dreadful deed swiftly, venerable sage. I recounted everything to him, including our pursuit of the sun. I said, ‘O venerable one, wounded and ashamed, my senses disturbed and exhausted, I am unable to speak clearly. Both Jatayu and I, overcome by pride and rivalry, leapt into the sky from afar, eager to test our strength. ‘On the summit of Mount Kailāsa, in the presence of sages, we made a wager: to follow the sun until it reached the great mountain at sunset. As we traveled together, we saw below us many cities, each the size of a chariot wheel and distinct from the others. In some places, we heard the sound of musical instruments; elsewhere, the jingling of ornaments; we saw many women dressed in red, singing. ‘Swiftly rising into the sky, we reached the path of the sun; from there, we looked down upon the forest, lush with green meadows. The earth appeared covered with rocky peaks, as if with stones, and was encircled by rivers, like threads woven around the land.’” Thus Sampāti told his tale, revealing his past and the events that led him to this moment, sharing his knowledge and wisdom with the noble assembly of monkeys, all in the hope of aiding Rāma’s cause.