As Rama prepared to depart for the forest, he spoke gently to Sumantra, the charioteer, instructing him to return to the city. “When you reach Ayodhya,” Rama said, “my younger mother Kaikeyi will be convinced that I have indeed gone to the forest. The queen, satisfied once I have left, will no longer suspect the righteous King Dasharatha of being untruthful. My foremost wish is that my younger mother may secure a flourishing kingdom for her son Bharata, kept safe and prosperous.” Rama continued, “For the happiness of both myself and the king, Sumantra, you must return with the chariot to the city. Speak to each person as appropriate, as you have been instructed.” Having spoken thus and repeatedly consoling Sumantra, Rama then turned to Guha, the chief of the Nishadas, and addressed him with firm and purposeful words. “Guha,” Rama said, “it is not proper for me now to dwell in the inhabited parts of the forest. I must reside in a hermitage, for such is the rule prescribed for me. Therefore, embracing the ascetic vow, I, wishing for the welfare of my father, Sita, and Lakshmana, will proceed.” He added, “Once matted locks are made, I will depart. Bring me the milk of the banyan tree.” Guha promptly brought the milk, and with it, Rama fashioned matted locks for both Lakshmana and himself. Now clad in bark garments and wearing circles of matted hair, the brothers shone like twin sages, their appearance transformed. Having adopted the path of the hermits, Rama, with Lakshmana at his side, spoke again to Guha, his companion. “Be ever vigilant, Guha, regarding the army, treasury, fortresses, and your people. The kingdom is most difficult to protect.” Then, Rama took leave of Guha and, undisturbed, departed swiftly with Sita and Lakshmana. Reaching the bank of the river, Rama, desiring to cross the swift-flowing Ganga, addressed Lakshmana: “O tiger among men, board this boat which is ready, and gently help Sita, the noble lady, to embark after you.” Lakshmana, obedient and without objection, first helped Sita to board, then ascended himself. Rama, the illustrious elder brother, then boarded as well. Guha, chief of the Nishadas, urged his kinsmen onward. Raghava, radiant and full of splendor, recited sacred prayers for his own welfare, as prescribed for both Brahmins and Kshatriyas, having ritually sipped water according to the scriptures. Together with Sita and Lakshmana, he bowed to the river. After taking leave of Sumantra, Guha, and their forces, Rama directed the boatmen to proceed. The boat, expertly steered by the helmsman and propelled by a fine oar, swiftly crossed the water. When they reached the middle of the Bhagirathi, Sita, faultless and pure, joined her palms and spoke to the river: “This is the son of Dasharatha, the great and wise king. May he, protected by you, O Ganga, fulfill his father’s command. After dwelling for fourteen full years in the forest, together with his brother and me, he will return again. Then, O blessed and gracious goddess, when I have returned safely, I will worship you, O Ganga, joyfully, for the fulfillment of all my desires.” Sita continued, “For you, O goddess Tripathaga, behold the world of Brahma; and as the consort of the ocean king, you are seen in this world. Therefore, O goddess, I bow to you and praise you, O beautiful one, when the tiger among men regains his kingdom and returns in safety. I will give a hundred thousand cows, garments, and fine food to the Brahmins, wishing to please you. With a thousand jars of wine and meat-rice offerings, I will worship you, O goddess, with devotion, when I have returned to the city. All the deities who dwell on 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 Ayodhya from the forest, O sinless one.” Thus speaking, Sita quickly reached the southern bank of the Ganga. Once ashore, Rama, the bull among men, left the boat and set out with his brother and the noble Sita. Rama then spoke to Lakshmana, son of Sumitra: “Be vigilant for our protection, whether among people or in solitude. Protection must certainly be ensured, especially in the unseen solitude of the forest. Go ahead, Saumitri, and let Sita follow you. I will walk behind, guarding you and Sita. Today, Vaidehi will experience the hardship of forest life.” He added, “No action is easily accomplished before its time; today, Vaidehi will indeed know the hardship of forest dwelling. Today she will enter the forest, deserted of people, devoid of fields and gardens, full of difficulties and steep descents.” Hearing Rama’s words, Lakshmana set out ahead. Rama, the delight of the Raghu lineage, followed after Sita. Having swiftly crossed to the far shore of the Ganga, Sumitra’s son gazed intently at Rama; but, as the journey lengthened and the path ahead beckoned, his gaze turned back. The ascetic, distressed, shed tears as they pressed onward into the forest.