Rama, filled with anticipation, spoke of their journey ahead: “We shall soon behold the best of rivers, sacred and honored by all, whose waters are revered not only by gods and demons, but also by gandharvas, beasts, humans, and birds alike.” Lakshmana and Sumantra, ever faithful, replied, “So be it,” and led the horses to a nearby ingudi tree, preparing for their halt. Rama, the joy of the Ikshvaku lineage, approached that lovely tree. With Sita and Lakshmana beside him, he descended from the chariot. Sumantra, too, dismounted, unyoked the noble horses, and, with hands joined in reverence, stood near Rama, who had gone to the foot of the tree. At that moment, Guha, the mighty king of the Nishadas and a friend equal to Rama himself, renowned for his strength, approached. Hearing that Rama, the tiger among men, had entered his territory, Guha gathered his aged ministers and kinsmen and came forth to greet him. Seeing Guha standing at a distance, Rama, accompanied by Saumitri, walked forward to meet him. Guha, his heart heavy with concern, embraced Rama and said, “This land is yours as much as Ayodhya, Rama; what can I do for you?” With warmth, he continued, “Who would be so blessed as to host such a beloved guest? Please accept these offerings.” Quickly, Guha brought forth a variety of excellent foods and drinks, offered water for washing, and spoke: “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 and enjoy, drinks to taste, the finest beds, and fodder for your horses.” To these heartfelt words, Rama replied, “We have indeed been honored and made joyful by your coming to us on foot and your affectionate welcome.” Embracing Guha with affection, he added, “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 your generous offerings, I accept the spirit in which they are given, but I do not engage in receiving gifts. Know me now as one who wears grass, bark, and deerskin—one who lives on fruits and roots, devoted to righteousness, 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.” He further explained, “These horses are dear to my father, King Dasharatha. By providing well for them, I shall feel honored.” Guha, understanding Rama’s wishes, immediately ordered his men to bring water and fodder for the horses. As evening descended, Rama, clad in an upper garment of bark, performed the twilight rites facing west. He took only water for his meal, brought by Lakshmana. When Rama lay down on the ground, Lakshmana respectfully washed his feet, and then, together with Sita, stood close by, taking shelter under a tree. Guha, too, remained vigilant. With his charioteer, he spoke with Saumitri and, armed with his bow, stayed awake to guard Rama. Thus, the wise and illustrious son of Dasharatha, unaccustomed to suffering and used to comfort, lay upon the earth as the long night slowly passed. Now begins the fifty-first chapter of the Ayodhya Kanda of the glorious Valmiki Ramayana. Guha, troubled by sorrow for the sake of his dear friend, spoke to Rama, who was awake and pure of heart, and to Lakshmana: “Dear prince, 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 you, O descendant of Kakutstha. Truly, there is no one on earth dearer to me than Rama—I say this truthfully, and I swear by truth itself. By your favor, I hope to gain great fame in this world, attain abundant righteousness, and 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.” Lakshmana replied, “O faultless one, since we are being protected by you, we have no fear here; we see only righteousness. Yet, how could I find sleep, or even life or happiness, while the two sons of Dasharatha lie on the ground with Sita? He whom neither gods nor asuras could overpower in battle—see him now, lying humbly on the grass with Sita. He who was obtained by mantras, austerity, and great effort—this only son of Dasharatha, possessing noble qualities. With him gone to the forest, the king will not last long; surely, the earth will soon become a widow. The women, exhausted, have ceased their loud wailing; I think, dear one, that the royal palace has now fallen silent. Kausalya, the king, and likewise my own mother—I do not expect that any of them will survive this night. Perhaps my mother may live out of concern for Shatrughna; but the sorrow that will destroy Kausalya, the mother of a hero, is grievous indeed. That city, once filled with devoted people and bringing joy to those who beheld it, will perish, afflicted by the king’s misfortune.” Thus, through the night, Rama and his companions found themselves surrounded by love, loyalty, and sorrow, as the forest bore witness to their steadfast hearts and the trials that lay ahead.