Disturbing flocks of birds and breaking trees with the force of his broad chest, the wise Hanuman moved through the forest like a fully grown lion, striking down many animals as he went. The mountain he approached was adorned with pure, naturally formed minerals of blue, red, madder, and lotus hues—both white and black—spotless and resplendent. This sacred place was constantly inhabited by shape-shifting beings with their retinues: Yakṣas, Kinnaras, Gandharvas, godlike spirits, and serpents. At the base of that foremost mountain, encircled by noble serpents, Hanuman—the best among monkeys—stood, resembling a mighty serpent coiled in a tranquil pool. With deep reverence, he joined his palms in salutation to the Sun, Indra, the Wind, the Self-born Creator, and the elements, setting his mind firmly on his impending journey. Facing east, Hanuman again offered homage to the Wind and the Self-born, then turned his resolve southward, intent on the southern direction. The foremost monkeys watched as Hanuman, determined to leap, began to grow in size for the sake of Rāma’s mission, swelling like the ocean at high tide. His body became immeasurable, for he wished to cross the vast ocean in a single leap. Planting his arms and feet firmly, he pressed down on the mountain beneath him. The mighty mountain shook violently for a moment under his weight, and showers of blossoms fell from the treetops, covering the mountain all around with fragrant flowers, making it shine as if it were made entirely of blooms. Pressed by Hanuman’s supreme strength, the mountain poured forth streams of water, like a rutting elephant. It also released torrents of gold, collyrium, and silver, and great boulders rolled down its sides. The mountain, adorned with a central blaze, looked like a fire with lines of smoke curling skyward. All the creatures hidden in its caves cried out in strange voices, and the tumult of beings—caused by the mountain’s trembling—filled the earth, the directions, and the groves with their uproar. Broad-headed serpents, marked with the sign of the svastika, spewed forth fierce fire and bit into rocks with their venomous fangs. The rocks, bitten by these enraged, poison-filled serpents, blazed with fire and shattered into thousands of pieces. Even the clusters of potent medicinal herbs growing on the mountain, though effective against poison, could not subdue the venom of the serpents in their fury. The ascetics living on the mountain, thinking, “This mountain is being broken by supernatural forces,” became frightened and fled, taking their women with them. In their haste, they left behind golden vessels of liquor at their drinking grounds, as well as precious cups and goblets of gold. They abandoned various sweets and foods, diverse meats, bull hides, and swords with golden hilts. Adorned with crafted necklaces, intoxicated, smeared with red garlands and ointments, their eyes red and lotus-like, these ascetics and their women ascended into the sky. The women, wearing necklaces, anklets, bracelets, and ornaments, stood amazed and smiling in the sky with their lovers. The great sages among the Vidyādharas, displaying their own mighty powers, gathered together in the sky and gazed upon the mountain. Then, from the clear sky, they heard the voices of sages with purified minds, as well as the Cāraṇas and Siddhas. They spoke: “This Hanuman, son of the Wind, resembling a mountain and possessed of tremendous speed, seeks to cross the ocean, the abode of Varuṇa. Desiring to accomplish a most difficult task for the sake of Rāma and the monkeys, he wishes to reach the far shore of the ocean, which is so hard to attain.” Hearing these words of the Vidyādharas and ascetics, all eyes turned to Hanuman, the immeasurable chief of monkeys, standing upon the mountain. His hair bristled, he trembled like fire, and then he roared—a mighty sound, as thunderous as a storm cloud. His long, hairy tail, curved in succession, he swung in preparation for his leap, like the king of birds carrying a serpent. As he moved with great speed, his tail, wound behind him, appeared like a mighty serpent being carried away by Garuda. Hanuman braced his massive arms, as strong as iron bars, close to his waist and contracted his legs. Gathering his arms and neck, radiant and glorious, he drew upon his energy, strength, and valor, filling himself with might. He surveyed the path before him, his gaze fixed upward, restraining his breath within his heart while looking toward the sky. With feet planted firmly, Hanuman, the mightiest of monkeys, pressed down his ears, preparing for his leap. Then, the best of monkeys spoke to his companions: “Just as an arrow released by Rāghava, swift as the wind, flies forth, so shall I go to Lanka, ruled by Rāvaṇa. If I do not find Janaka’s daughter there in Lanka, then, with this very speed, I shall go to the abode of the gods, even if all my efforts are spent. Or, I will bind the king of the rakshasas and bring Rāvaṇa back; in every way, I shall return with my task accomplished, together with Sītā. Or, if need be, I will uproot Lanka itself, along with Rāvaṇa, and bring it here.” Having spoken thus, Hanuman, the best among monkeys, stood ready, his heart set on his mighty leap.