Rāma, perceiving Sumantra’s deep devotion, spoke to him with affection, “I know your supreme loyalty to me, O faithful one. But listen to the reason I now send you back to the city. When you return to Ayodhyā, my younger mother, Kaikeyī, will be assured that Rāma has indeed departed for the forest. Only then will the queen, satisfied by my exile, have no cause to doubt the righteousness of the king or suspect him of falsehood. “This is my dearest wish: that Kaikeyī may see her son Bharata secure and flourishing upon the throne, and that the kingdom may remain safe. For the happiness of both myself and my father, Sumantra, you must return to the city with the chariot. Carry my instructions and speak to each person as is proper.” Having thus spoken, and consoling Sumantra again and again, Rāma then turned to Guha, addressing him with firm resolve, “Guha, it is not right for me to dwell now in the inhabited part of the forest. I must reside in the hermitage, as prescribed by sacred rule. Therefore, embracing the vow that adorns ascetics, I shall proceed for the welfare of my father, Sītā, and Lakṣmaṇa. Once my matted locks are made, I will depart. Please, bring the milk of the banyan tree.” Guha quickly brought the banyan milk, and with it, Rāma fashioned matted locks for himself and for Lakṣmaṇa. Clad in garments of bark and crowned with circles of matted hair, the brothers shone like twin sages, radiant and resolute. Having thus adopted the path of hermits, Rāma, steadfast in his vow, spoke again to Guha, “Be ever vigilant, Guha, in the care of your army, treasury, fortresses, and the people. For the protection of a kingdom is a most difficult task.” Taking leave of Guha, the scion of Ikṣvāku set out swiftly, undisturbed, with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa. Upon reaching the riverbank, Rāma turned to Lakṣmaṇa and said, “O tiger among men, board this boat, which is ready. Then gently help Sītā, the noble lady, to embark after you.” Lakṣmaṇa, obedient to his brother’s command, first assisted Sītā to board, and then he himself climbed in. Rāma, the illustrious elder brother, followed, as Guha, chief of the Niṣādas, urged his kinsmen to action. Rāghava, radiant and full of splendor, once aboard, recited sacred prayers for his own welfare, as prescribed for both Brāhmaṇas and Kṣatriyas. Together with Sītā, Lakṣmaṇa performed the ritual sipping of water, and with joy and reverence, they all bowed to the river. Having taken leave of Sumantra, Guha, and their companions, Rāma directed the boatmen to proceed. The boat, expertly steered by the helmsman and swiftly propelled by the oar, quickly crossed the flowing Ganga. When they reached the middle of the Bhāgīrathī, Sītā, flawless and pure, joined her palms and prayed to the river, “This is the son of Daśaratha, the great and wise king. O Ganga, protect him that he may fulfill his father’s command. After dwelling for fourteen full years in the forest, together with his brother and me, he will return again. O blessed and gracious goddess, when I have returned safely, I will worship you joyfully for the fulfillment of all my desires. “O goddess Tripathagā, you behold the world of Brahma, and as the consort of the ocean king, you are seen in this world. Therefore, I bow to you and praise you, O beautiful one. When the tiger among men regains his kingdom and returns in safety, I will offer you a hundred thousand cows, garments, and fine food to the Brahmins, wishing to please you. With a thousand jars of wine and offerings of meat and rice, I will worship you with devotion when I have returned to the city. All the deities who dwell upon your banks, and the sacred fords and shrines that exist, I will worship them all. May I, joined again with my strong-armed husband and his brother, re-enter Ayodhyā from the forest, O sinless one.” Having thus prayed, Sītā soon reached the southern bank of the Ganga. There, the bull among men, Rāma, disembarked with his brother and the noble Sītā. Rāma then spoke to Lakṣmaṇa, the joy of Sumitrā, “Be ever vigilant for our protection, whether among people or in solitude. Especially in the unseen solitude of the forest, we must ensure our safety. Go ahead, Saumitri, and let Sītā follow you. I will walk behind, guarding you both. Today, Vaidehī will experience the true hardship of forest life. No action is easily accomplished before its time; today, she will indeed know the difficulties of dwelling in the forest. She will enter a land deserted by people, devoid of fields and gardens, full of challenges and steep descents.” Hearing Rāma’s words, Lakṣmaṇa set out ahead, with Sītā following, and Rāghava, delight of the Raghu lineage, walked behind, thus beginning their journey deeper into the forest.