Upon receiving Bharata’s joyful command, Sumantra, ever attentive and skilled, promptly brought forth the chariot, yoked with fine horses, ready for the journey ahead. Bharata, steadfast in truth, mighty in valor, and resolute in both word and deed, was moved by a single purpose: to appease his illustrious elder, Rāma, who had gone to the great forest. Filled with this resolve, Bharata addressed Sumantra, saying, “Rise quickly and go to the chiefs of the army to assemble the forces. My desire is to bring back Rāma, who now dwells in the forest, for the welfare of the world.” Sumantra, delighted by Bharata’s righteous command, carried out his orders at once. He summoned the chief citizens, the leaders of the army, and his friends, ensuring that all would be prepared. In every household of Ayodhyā, the kṣatriyas, vaiśyas, śūdras, and brāhmaṇas yoked their camels, chariots, mules, elephants, and noble-bred horses, eager to join the great endeavor. At the break of dawn, Bharata himself rose early and mounted his splendid chariot, his heart yearning to see Rāma. All his ministers and priests went before him, riding in chariots drawn by swift horses, their procession shining like the chariot of the sun. Behind Bharata followed nine thousand well-prepared elephants, as prescribed for royal progress, and sixty thousand chariots bearing archers armed with many kinds of weapons. One hundred thousand mounted horses, all ready for the journey, accompanied the illustrious prince. The royal mothers—Kaikeyī, Sumitrā, and the revered Kausalyā—delighted at the prospect of bringing Rāma home, rode in gleaming vehicles. Noble assemblies of citizens set out as well, eager to see Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, their hearts uplifted as they spoke of the brothers. They wondered aloud, “When shall we behold Rāma, dark as a rain cloud, mighty-armed, steadfast in spirit, firm in his vows, the remover of the world’s sorrow?” They believed that just by seeing Rāma, their grief would vanish, as darkness flees before the rising sun. As they shared these joyful and auspicious words, the citizens embraced one another and departed together. All the people—nobles and townsfolk alike—joined the great procession, united in their purpose. Among them were jewel-workers, skilled potters, weavers, and those who earned their living by the sword. There were artisans who crafted peacock ornaments, sawyers, carvers, piercers, ivory workers, plasterers, and perfume makers. Renowned goldsmiths, blanket washers, bath attendants, clothers, physicians, incense makers, and distillers joined the throng. Washers, tailors, villagers, actors with their wives, and boatmen, too, set out. Thousands of learned brāhmaṇas, respected for their conduct and versed in the Vedas, followed Bharata, bringing with them cows and chariots. All were well-dressed, in clean garments and adorned with polished copper ornaments, traveling in various vehicles. The entire army, joyful and eager, accompanied Bharata, Kaikeyī’s son, who was devoted to his brother and intent on bringing him back. After a long journey by chariots, vehicles, horses, and elephants, the great host reached the banks of the Gaṅgā near Śṛṅgiverapura. There, Rāma’s friend, the valiant Guha, dwelt with his kinsmen, vigilantly guarding the region. The army, with its many wheels and axes, halted on the riverbank, and Bharata, seeing both the multitude that followed him and the auspicious waters of the Gaṅgā, addressed his ministers. “Arrange the army’s encampment as is fitting,” he said. “After a night’s rest, we shall cross this great river tomorrow. For now, I wish to descend to the river and offer water for the departed king, to perform the funeral rites.” His ministers, attentive and obedient, replied, “So be it,” and stationed the army with their own contingents in proper order. Once the army was arrayed, resplendent with its equipment along the great river, Bharata, pondering Rāma’s return, remained there with his noble followers. Meanwhile, on seeing the vast army encamped along the Gaṅgā, Guha, king of the Niṣādas, quickly spoke to his kinsmen. “Behold this great army, shining like the ocean—its end is not in sight. Bharata himself, formidable in strength, has come, his chariot bearing the banner of the kovidāra tree. Perhaps he means to bind us Niṣādas, or even slay us. Or, since Rāma, son of Daśaratha, was exiled by his father, Bharata, son of Kaikeyī, may be coming to secure the rare fortune of kingship by killing Rāma.” Guha continued, “Rāma, son of Daśaratha, is both my lord and my friend. For his sake, let those devoted to him stand ready here on the bank of the Gaṅgā. Let all the strong and able Niṣādas who dwell along the river remain vigilant, guarding the river and sustaining themselves on meat, roots, and fruits.” Thus did the great procession for Rāma’s return advance, and the vigilant Niṣādas prepared themselves amid uncertainty, as the story of Ayodhyā’s love for its exiled prince unfolded on the sacred banks of the Gaṅgā.