As evening descended upon the forest, ascetics gathered together, their bodies still wet from the sacred ablutions, holding water jars and wearing garments soaked from bathing. After their rituals, the seers offered oblations into the fires, and smoke rose, tinged red like the body of a dove, drifting and swirling in the wind. Around them, the trees, though sparse in leaves, had grown thick and dense, obscuring the directions—even in this remote place, the forest seemed to envelop all. Night creatures began to stir, moving everywhere, while the animals of the hermitage lay down at the sacred bathing spots, resting quietly. The night advanced fully, adorned with countless stars, and the moon, wrapped in its gentle radiance, rose in the sky, casting a silvery glow. At this moment, an ascetic woman spoke to Sītā: “Go now, I give you leave; attend to Rāma. Your sweet words have pleased me.” She added, “Maithilī, adorn yourself before me; bring me joy, dear child, shining with divine ornaments.” Thus, Sītā, adorned with garments, ornaments, and garlands—her beauty likened to a daughter of the gods—bowed respectfully to the ascetic woman and went towards Rāma. Rāma, best among speakers, saw Sītā so adorned and rejoiced at the affection shown by the ascetic woman. Sītā told Rāma all that had transpired—the gifts of garments, ornaments, and garlands, and the kindness she had received. Both Rāma and the mighty Lakṣmaṇa were filled with joy at this rare honor bestowed upon Maithilī, a distinction seldom seen among mortals. Delighted, Rāma, his face radiant like the moon, spent that auspicious night, welcomed warmly by the ascetics and perfected beings. When dawn broke, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa performed the fire rituals for the ascetics and took leave of the forest-dwelling hermits. Before they departed, the righteous ascetics spoke of the dangers lurking in that forest, warning them: “O Rāghava, in this great forest dwell rākṣasas—man-eaters of many forms—and wild beasts who feed on blood. These creatures attack ascetics devoted to righteousness, whether careless or with leftovers; protect them, O Rāghava. This is the path of the great sages who gather fruits in the forest; by this way, it is proper for you to enter the difficult woods.” Receiving blessings from the ascetic Brāhmaṇas, Rāghava, together with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa, entered the forest, their passage likened to the sun entering a mass of clouds. Thus concludes the one hundred and nineteenth sarga in the Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, the first great poem, consisting of twenty-four thousand verses. Now begins the first sarga of the Araṇya Kāṇḍa. There, encircled by kuśa grass and bark garments, and endowed with divine splendor, the hermitage shone like the blazing orb of the sun in the sky. It was a refuge for all beings, its courtyard always clean, teeming with deer, and surrounded by flocks of birds. Constantly honored and attended by groups of Apsarases, it was adorned with spacious fire-altars, ladles, vessels, deerskins, and kuśa grass. Kindling sticks, water pots, fruits, and roots were abundant, and the hermitage was covered with great forest trees bearing auspicious, sweet fruits. Sanctified by offerings and oblations, the hermitage resounded with the chanting of Brahman, and was encircled by various flowers and a lotus pond filled with lotuses. It was inhabited by self-restrained ascetics who subsisted on fruits and roots, clad in bark and black antelope skins, shining like the sun and fire, and by ancient sages. Adorned by noble sages of pure diet, the place, resembling the abode of Brahmā, echoed with sacred chants. Learned and highly fortunate Brāhmaṇas graced the hermitage, and the illustrious Rāghava beheld this circle of hermitages. The great-souled sages, endowed with divine knowledge, approached after stringing their mighty bows, having seen Rāma. Pleased, they greeted Vaidehī, seeing her shine like the rising moon, and rejoiced in her presence. Seeing Lakṣmaṇa and the renowned Vaidehī, the resolute ascetics welcomed them with auspicious blessings. The forest-dwellers, amazed, gazed at Rāma’s form—his build, grace, delicacy, and splendid attire. With unblinking eyes, they watched Vaidehī, Lakṣmaṇa, and Rāma, marveling at their presence. Those greatly fortunate ones, devoted to the welfare of all beings, received Rāghava as a guest in their leaf-hut. Honoring Rāma according to custom, the exalted, fire-like ascetics brought water for the righteous one. With utmost joy, offering auspicious blessings, they presented roots, flowers, fruits, and all the resources their hermitage could provide. Having offered these, the knowers of dharma, with joined palms, spoke: “You, the protector of dharma and refuge of the people, famed one—” “The king, wielder of the rod, is to be honored and respected; like a fourth part of Indra, Rāghava protects the people. Therefore, the king, worshipped, enjoys the finest pleasures; we, the dwellers in your domain, must be protected by you. Whether in the city or the forest, you are our king, lord of the people.” “We, O king, have laid down the rod, conquered anger and the senses; always, you must protect us ascetics, who are like embryos, rich in austerity.” Thus the story continues, as Rāma, Sītā, and Lakṣmaṇa are honored and entrusted with the protection of the sages in the sacred forest.