With confidence and the force of his mighty arms, Hanuman declared before the assembled monkeys, “By my strength alone, I could cause the ocean to flood the entire world, submerging mountains, rivers, and lakes alike. With the speed of my thighs, I could make the ocean, the very abode of Varuna, leap upward as if a great crocodile had burst forth from its depths. I am capable of circling Garuḍa himself, the great devourer of serpents who soars through the sky surrounded by flocks of birds, a thousand times over. “I can reach the blazing sun, wreathed in radiant rays, whether it has just risen or is yet to set. And then, without ever touching the earth, I could return again with a speed so terrible and swift that no one could match it. I am able to surpass all beings that move in the sky; I could dry up the oceans and even split the earth itself. Leaping, I would crush the mountains beneath me, and with my immense velocity, I could carry away the very ocean. “As I leap through the sky today, all manner of flowers from creepers and trees will follow after me, trailing in my wake. My path will be like that of the wind, coursing through the heavens as I move through the vast and fearsome expanse above. All beings, O monkeys, will witness me falling from the sky, and you will see me resembling mighty Mount Meru in my descent. “As I go, I will cover the sky as if swallowing the very firmament, scattering the clouds, shaking the mountains, and, with determined leaps, drying up the ocean. Except for Garuḍa, the king of birds, or the mighty Wind himself, I see no being who could hope to follow me as I leap. In the mere blink of an eye, I will descend through the unsupported sky like a bolt of lightning shooting from a cloud. “Indeed, as I leap across the ocean, my form will be like Viṣṇu’s when he measured the universe in three strides. My intellect perceives it clearly, and my mind is resolved: I will see Vaidehī—rejoice, O monkeys! I am equal to the Wind in speed, to Garuḍa in swiftness; my resolve is set to cross the ten thousand yojanas that lie before me. “Even if it were Indra, wielder of the thunderbolt, or Brahmā, the self-born, I could snatch the nectar from their very hands by force. My resolve is such that I could even lift up Lanka itself and carry it away.” Thus roared Hanuman, the foremost of monkeys, his brilliance immeasurable. The gathered monkeys gazed at him in wonder and delight; his words dispelled the grief that weighed upon their hearts. Jāmbavān, the venerable lord of the monkeys, spoke with great pleasure: “O heroic son of Keśarī, swift one, son of the Wind! By your words, you have dispelled the sorrow of your kinsmen. The foremost monkeys, shining with auspiciousness, have assembled for your sake. Intent on fulfilling the purpose, they will perform auspicious acts, aided by the favor of the sages and the counsel of the elder monkeys. “By the grace of the elders, you must cross the vast ocean, and we shall remain here, standing on one foot, until your return. The lives of all these forest-dwellers depend upon your success.” Then Hanuman, the tiger among monkeys, spoke to his companions: “No one in the world can match my speed in leaping. These very peaks before us, full of rocks and cliffs—the great summits of Mahendra—shall bear the force of my leap. “Scattered with many trees and shining with ores, these summits will sustain my speed. As I leap, these mountains will bear the force of my launch for a hundred yojanas from here.” With these words, Hanuman—the son of the Wind, swift as the wind itself—ascended the best of mountains, Mahendra, crusher of enemies. Mahendra was adorned with a profusion of flowers, its meadows frequented by deer, its slopes crowded with blossoming creepers and trees ever laden with flowers and fruits. Lions and tigers roamed its heights; intoxicated elephants wandered among the groves; flocks of excited birds filled the air with their calls, and cool springs bubbled forth from its depths. That mighty mountain, with its lofty peaks, was the equal of Mahendra himself in valor. As Hanuman wandered its slopes, the mountain trembled beneath the pressure of his great feet, roaring as if struck by lions or shaken by an intoxicated elephant. Streams of water burst forth, rocks tumbled down, and frightened deer and elephants fled, while great trees shook in the upheaval. Couples of Gandharvas, their senses muddled by drink, scattered; birds took flight, and even groups of Vidyādharas departed. The mountain’s vast plateau was abandoned, great serpents concealed themselves, and the peaks and rocks were upheaved. Those serpents, half-emerged and exhaling, made the mountain appear as if adorned with fluttering banners. Terrified and agitated sages abandoned their hermitages; the rocky heights collapsed, and the mountain seemed to sink into the wilderness like a traveler bereft of his companions. Hanuman, his mind united with his immense speed and resolve, the heroic monkey and destroyer of enemies, fixed his thoughts upon Lanka and Vaidehī. Thus, in the glorious Rāmāyaṇa of Vālmīki, begins the Sundara Kāṇḍa, the first chapter. Hanuman, desiring to accomplish a deed difficult and without equal, stood upon Mahendra, his head and neck raised high, resembling the lord of cattle in his majesty and might.