With a resolute heart, Rāma gathered his long, lustrous hair and, with skilled hands, fashioned it into matted locks for both himself and Lakṣmaṇa. Thus adorned with the marks of asceticism, the two brothers—long-armed and noble—took on the appearance of hermits, their forms radiant and dignified. Clad in garments of bark and crowned with circles of matted hair, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa shone on the riverbank like twin sages, their presence serene and powerful. Having embraced the path of the forest-dweller, Rāma, steadfast in his vow, turned to Guha, his faithful companion. With gentle gravity, he advised, “Be ever vigilant, Guha, in protecting the army, the treasury, the fortresses, and the people, for the kingdom is most difficult to safeguard.” With these words of counsel and friendship, the scion of Ikṣvāku took leave of Guha. Untroubled and resolute, Rāma departed swiftly with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa by his side. Reaching the bank of the sacred Gaṅgā, Rāma’s thoughts turned to their crossing. He addressed Lakṣmaṇa, “O tiger among men, board this boat that stands ready, and gently help Sītā, the noble lady, to embark after you.” Lakṣmaṇa, ever obedient and without hesitation, first aided Sītā, the daughter of Janaka, onto the boat and then ascended himself. Thereafter, Rāma, the illustrious elder brother, boarded as well. At Guha’s command, the Nishādas set to their oars, preparing for the journey across the swift-flowing river. As the boat pushed off, Rāma, radiant and mindful of dharma, recited sacred prayers for his own welfare—prayers prescribed for both Brahmins and Kṣatriyas. He then performed the ritual sipping of water as the scriptures enjoin, together with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa. Their hearts full of reverence, they bowed low to the sacred river. Having taken leave of Sumantra, Guha, and their gathered forces, Rāma directed the boatmen to proceed. The vessel, expertly guided by the helmsman and propelled by strong strokes of the oar, sped swiftly across the waters. When they reached the middle of the Bhāgīrathī, Sītā, pure and steadfast, joined her palms and prayed to the river goddess Gaṅgā: “This is the son of Daśaratha, the great and wise king. O Gaṅgā, may you protect him, that he may fulfill his father’s command. After dwelling for fourteen full years in the forest with his brother and me, may he return again. O blessed and gracious goddess, when I have returned safely, I will worship you joyfully for the fulfillment of all my desires. You, O goddess Tripathagā, witness 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 for 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 Ayodhyā from the forest, O sinless one.” Having thus prayed, Sītā quickly reached the southern bank of the Gaṅgā with her companions. Once ashore, Rāma, the bull among men, stepped off the boat, followed by Lakṣmaṇa and noble Vaidehī. Rāma then spoke to Lakṣmaṇa, son of Sumitrā, “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 Sītā follow you. I will walk behind, guarding you and Sītā. Today, Vaidehī will experience the hardship of forest life. No action is easily accomplished before its time; today, Vaidehī 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 Rāma’s words, Lakṣmaṇa set out ahead, with Sītā walking between the brothers, and Rāghava, delight of the Raghu lineage, following behind. Having crossed to the far shore of the Gaṅgā, Lakṣmaṇa gazed intently at Rāma, but as the journey stretched on, he turned his gaze back, and the ascetic, his heart full, shed tears at the path before them. The great-souled Rāma, whose might rivaled the guardians of the world, led his companions onward. They gradually approached prosperous villages, rich with beautiful crops and joyful calves. In the forest, the two brothers hunted four great beasts—a boar, a ṛṣya, a spotted deer, and a mighty stag. With sacred meat in hand, eager and hungry, they went quickly to seek shelter with the lord of the forest. As the evening deepened, Rāma approached a great tree and, after observing the western twilight, spoke to Lakṣmaṇa: “Today is the first night we spend outside the city; separated from Sumitrā’s son, you should not feel anxious. From today onward, we must remain vigilant through the nights without weariness, for Sītā’s safety depends upon us, Lakṣmaṇa. Let us somehow pass this night, O Saumitri, spreading out bedding on the ground made from what we ourselves have gathered.” Accustomed to luxury but now lying upon the earth, Rāma spoke auspicious words to Lakṣmaṇa as they prepared to spend their first night in the forest, thus beginning their exile with courage, devotion, and mutual care.