Led by Queen Kausalya, the women of the royal household, their hearts filled with joyful anticipation, set out in covered carriages, eager for a glimpse of Rama. At the same time, Bharata, radiant and dignified, departed in a splendid palanquin that shone with the brilliance of the moon, the sun, and the dawn itself, surrounded by his retinue. The great army accompanying them—teeming with elephants, horses, and chariots—began its journey southward, spreading out across the land like a vast, rising cloud. As they advanced, the army passed through forests alive with deer and birds, crossed the far banks of the sacred Ganga, and traversed mountains and rivers. The host of Bharata, filled with delighted priests, swift horses, and valiant warriors, moved through the great forest, their presence so formidable that flocks of deer and birds scattered in fear. The army shone brilliantly in that wilderness, a sight to behold. With banners fluttering overhead, the army pressed onward. Wild elephants, frightened by the commotion, fled into the depths of the forest with their herds. In the groves and along the rivers, bears, spotted deer, and antelopes could be seen, startled by the passing multitude. Bharata, the righteous son of Dasharatha, pleased with the progress, led his resounding fourfold army—infantry, cavalry, elephants, and chariots—onward, their numbers and movement resembling the swelling waves of the ocean, covering the earth like rain clouds in the monsoon. It became clear that a long time had passed on this journey. Having traveled a great distance, with the vehicles wearied from the long trek, the illustrious Bharata turned to Vasistha, foremost among counselors, and spoke: “From what I see and have heard, we have reached the place described by Bharadvaja. There, before us, stands Mount Chitrakuta; here flows the Mandakini river, and in the distance, that dark forest appears, as dense as a rain-laden cloud.” He continued, “The delightful slopes of Chitrakuta mountain are now being trampled by my elephants, themselves as mighty as mountains. The trees on these slopes shed their blossoms, just as rain clouds pour forth water when the heat subsides. Look, Shatrughna, at this mountain region frequented by Kinnaras, ringed everywhere by deer, like the ocean is by makaras. See how the herds of deer, swift and urged on, shine like rows of clouds scattered across the autumn sky by the wind. They wear garlands of fragrant flowers upon their heads, just as people in the south adorn themselves with shining fruits that resemble clouds.” Bharata observed further, “This forest, once silent and fearsome, now seems as crowded as Ayodhya itself. Dust, stirred up by the hooves of our horses, rises and covers the sky, carried swiftly by the wind, as if doing me a favor. Behold, Shatrughna, the chariots drawn by horses and driven by skilled charioteers, speeding through the forest. See those beautiful, frightened peacocks hastening to shelter among the trees. This place appears exceedingly charming; surely it is the dwelling of ascetics, like the path to heaven. Many deer, with their mates, are seen in the forest, beautiful in form and adorned as if with flowers.” Desiring to find his brothers, Bharata commanded, “Let the noble troops proceed and search the forest, so that those two tiger-like men, Rama and Lakshmana, may be found.” Hearing his words, the warriors, with weapons in hand, entered the forest and soon noticed smoke rising in the distance. They reported to Bharata, “Fire does not occur where there are no people; surely the Raghavas are here.” Yet, if not, they reasoned, those who dwell here must be ascetics, for they resemble Rama. Hearing these words, which were agreed upon by all, Bharata, destroyer of enemy forces, addressed his entire army: “Let all of you remain here; none should go ahead. I alone will proceed, along with Sumantra and the revered teacher.” Thus instructed, the army halted and stood watchfully in every direction, while Bharata fixed his gaze on the rising smoke. The host, stationed as he commanded and seeing the smoke ahead, rejoiced, their hearts swelling with hope that a meeting with their beloved Rama was near. Meanwhile, Rama, having dwelled long on that mountain so dear to the forests and hills, lingered there, longing for the beloved Vaidehī, Sita, and captivating his own mind with the beauty around him. The son of Dasharatha showed the wondrous Chitrakuta to his wife, shining with delight, just as Indra would show Shachi the city of the gods. “O gentle one,” he said, “the loss of the kingdom or separation from friends does not trouble my mind when I behold this delightful mountain. See, O gentle one, this mountain adorned with multitudes of birds, its peaks piercing the sky and decorated with minerals. Some peaks resemble silver, some are like fresh blood, some are yellow or crimson, and others shine with the radiance of precious gems. Some regions gleam like flowers, sunlight, or ketaka blossoms; others glow like fire. All these lands of the lord of mountains are adorned with minerals, making this place a marvel to behold.