The monkeys saw Sugrīva, pleasing to behold yet filled with fear of his brother Vāli, seated in hiding. We, too, served Sugrīva, the steadfast and truthful monkey king, for the kingdom had come to him by destiny’s design. At that time, two men appeared—clad in bark garments, carrying excellent bows in their hands. These two, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, approached the delightful region of the Ṛṣyamūka mountain. When Sugrīva saw these tigers among men, armed with their bows, he was seized by fear and leapt up to the peak of the mountain, bewildered and cautious. There, on the summit, the monkey king remained in hiding. Sugrīva quickly sent me, Hanumān, alone to approach them. At his command, I drew near to those two noble men. They stood before me, beautiful and marked with auspicious signs, their palms joined in greeting. Recognizing their true nature, I was filled with affection for them. I then brought Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa upon my back to Sugrīva’s presence and introduced them truthfully to the great-souled monkey king. As they spoke together, a deep bond of affection arose between Rāma, the lord of men, and Sugrīva, the lord of monkeys. Comforting each other, they shared the stories of their past sorrows: Sugrīva, driven out by his brother Vāli because of a woman, and Rāma, afflicted with grief over the loss of his beloved Sītā. Lakṣmaṇa recounted these events to Sugrīva, and the monkey king listened intently. At that time, Sugrīva was without radiance, like the sun eclipsed by a planet. Then, Sītā’s ornaments, which had been cast down to earth as she was carried away by the demon, were gathered by the leaders of the monkey troops and brought to Rāma. They showed the ornaments to Rāma joyfully, though they did not know the path Sītā had taken. I myself brought these ornaments and placed them in Rāma’s lap. Distraught, he gazed at them in many ways, his mind tormented. With divine radiance, Rāma lamented, gazing at the ornaments and weeping again and again in his suffering. Overwhelmed by grief, the son of Daśaratha kindled the fire of sorrow within himself and lay for a long time in despair. With great effort and comforting words, I managed to help him rise again. Rāma, together with Lakṣmaṇa, entrusted the precious ornaments to Sugrīva, showing them again and again. Because he could not see you, noble lady, Rāma was tormented, always burning with the fire of longing, like a mountain of flame. For your sake, sleeplessness, grief, and anxiety afflicted him, like fires raging within a house. The sorrow of your absence shook Rāma, as a mighty earthquake shakes a great mountain. Roaming through delightful forests and along riverbanks, Rāma found no pleasure, O princess, for you were not there. Yet, O daughter of Janaka, Rāma, that tiger among men, will soon reach you after slaying Rāvaṇa with the help of his friends and kinsmen. Then, Rāma and Sugrīva made a solemn agreement: Rāma would help Sugrīva reclaim his kingdom from Vāli, and Sugrīva would help search for you. With this alliance, the lord of monkeys, accompanied by the two heroic princes, approached Kiṣkindhā, and Vāli was slain in battle. Rāma swiftly killed Vāli and made Sugrīva the sovereign over all the monkey and bear troops. Thus, O queen, the alliance of Rāma and Sugrīva was sealed. Know me, Hanumān, as the messenger who has come to you on their behalf. Once Sugrīva regained his kingdom, he summoned the great monkeys and sent mighty ones in all directions to search for you. Commanded by the powerful king Sugrīva, monkeys as formidable as mountains set out across the earth in every direction. Following Sugrīva’s command, we and the other monkeys, eager to fulfill his words, searched the entire world. Among us was Aṅgada, the illustrious and mighty son of Vāli, a tiger among monkeys, who led a third of the army’s strength. For us, lost and overwhelmed by grief, many days and nights passed upon the mighty Vindhya mountains. Despairing of our task as time slipped away, and fearing the wrath of Sugrīva, we were ready to give up our lives. Having searched every mountain stronghold and river source and still not finding any trace of you, O queen, we resolved to end our lives. On the summit of that mountain, we undertook a fast unto death, seeing all the foremost monkeys seated with the same resolve. Immersed in a sea of sorrow, Aṅgada lamented deeply—mourning both your loss, O Vaidehī, and the death of his father Vāli. Our resolve was to fast unto death, just as Jaṭāyu had died; for us, hopeless and wishing for death, this was the command of our lord. Then, for the sake of our mission, there came a great and mighty bird—Sampāti, the heroic king of vultures and brother of the vulture king. Hearing of his brother’s death, he spoke these words in anger: “By whom was my younger brother killed, and where did he fall?