As they journeyed onward, the travelers came upon the sacred river Ganga, whose beauty unfolded before them in countless wondrous forms. In some places, the riverside trees adorned her like garlands, their branches bending over her waters in a gentle embrace. Elsewhere, blooming lotuses covered her surface, while in other spots, she was crowded with thick clusters of lotus plants, painting the river with hues of pink and white. In some stretches, delicate kumuda buds formed enchanting clusters along her banks. In others, Ganga seemed almost intoxicated, her waters scattered with the golden pollen of myriad flowers. Her clarity was remarkable, shining like pure jewels, unclouded by mud. Wild elephants, along with the finest tuskers of the forest and the four directions, frequented her banks, drawn by her cool waters. At times, the air resounded with the trumpeting of these divine elephants, echoing through the forests that lined her shores. Even without the finest ornaments, Ganga was as beautiful as a beloved woman—her natural grace needing no embellishment. Her banks teemed with fruits, flowers, and tender shoots, thick with thickets and alive with birdsong. Within her depths swam porpoises and crocodiles, while serpents glided silently beneath the surface. This was the divine Ganga, sprung from the very feet of Vishnu, sinless and a destroyer of sin. She had once descended from the matted locks of Shankara, blazing with the radiance of the ocean itself. As Rama, the mighty-armed son of Dasharatha, approached the queen of rivers, he heard the cries of cranes and waterfowl echoing along her banks, drawing near to the city of Shringibera. Beholding the swirling waves and eddies of the sacred river, Rama, the great chariot-warrior, turned to Sumantra and said, "Let us stay here tonight." He pointed to a great ingudi tree nearby, abundant with flowers and leaves, and suggested, "Let us rest here, charioteer. We will behold the best of rivers, the sacred Ganga, honored by all—her waters revered by gods, demons, gandharvas, beasts, humans, and birds alike." Lakshmana and Sumantra agreed, and brought the horses to the shade of the ingudi tree. Rama, the joy of the Ikshvaku line, approached the lovely tree, and together with Sita and Lakshmana, descended from the chariot. Sumantra also dismounted, unyoked the noble horses, and, with hands joined in reverence, stood near Rama at the foot of the tree. At that moment, Guha, the king of the Nishadas—a man of great strength and Rama’s dear friend—approached. Hearing that Rama, the tiger among men, had entered his territory, Guha came forth, surrounded by his aged ministers and kinsmen. Seeing the king of the Nishadas standing at a distance, Rama and Lakshmana went to greet him. Distressed by Rama’s plight, Guha embraced him warmly and said, "This land is yours as much as Ayodhya, Rama. What can I do for you?" He expressed his joy at receiving such a beloved guest, and quickly had various kinds of excellent food and drink brought forth, offering water for washing and speaking words of welcome. "Welcome, mighty-armed one! This entire land is yours. We are your servants; you are our lord. Rule our kingdom well. Here are foods to eat, to enjoy, to drink, and to taste, as well as the finest beds and fodder for your horses." To this, Rama replied with humility, "We have indeed been honored and made joyful by your coming to us on foot and your affectionate welcome." Pressing Guha with his strong arms, Rama continued, "It is by good fortune, Guha, that I see you safe and well with your relatives. Is all well with your kingdom, your friends, and your wealth? As for what you have kindly prepared for us, I accept it all, but I do not engage in receiving gifts. Know me as one who wears grass, bark, and deerskin, who lives on fruits and roots, devoted to righteousness, and dwelling in the forest like an ascetic. I only require fodder for the horses, nothing else. By this alone, I shall be well honored by you here. For these horses are dear to my father, King Dasharatha. By providing well for them, I shall feel honored." Guha immediately ordered his men to provide water and fodder for the horses. Then Rama, wearing an upper garment of bark, performed the evening twilight rites facing west, taking only water for his meal, brought by Lakshmana himself. When Rama lay down on the ground, Lakshmana washed his feet, and then, together with Sita, stood nearby under the shelter of a tree. Guha, too, with his charioteer, remained vigilant through the night, conversing with Lakshmana and keeping watch with bow in hand to guard Rama. Thus, as the wise and illustrious son of Dasharatha—unacquainted with suffering and accustomed to comfort—lay there, the long night slowly passed. Now, listen to the next chapter of the Ayodhya Kanda of the glorious Valmiki Ramayana. Guha, tormented by sorrow for the sake of his dear friend, spoke to Rama, who was awake and without deceit, and to Lakshmana. "Dear prince," he said, "this comfortable bed has been prepared for you; rest well upon it as you wish, and take comfort here. All these people are accustomed to hardship, but you are suited for comfort; we will remain awake through the night to guard Kakutstha." He continued, "Truly, there is no one on earth dearer to me than Rama; I say this truthfully, and I swear to you by truth itself. By your favor, I hope to gain great fame in this world, to attain abundant righteousness, and to acquire pure prosperity. Therefore, I will protect my dear friend Rama, as he lies here with Sita, holding my bow in hand, together with my kinsmen, on all sides. There is nothing unknown to me in this forest where I always roam; even if a great fourfold army came, we could overcome it." Thus, with loyal hearts and steadfast devotion, Guha and his people kept watch through the night, ensuring the safety of Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana as they rested beneath the sheltering boughs by the sacred Ganga.