In the depths of the Daṇḍaka forest, fierce rākṣasas—demons who subsist on human flesh—began to prey upon the ascetics dwelling there. Troubled by these attacks, the foremost among the twice-born, the brāhmaṇas, came to Rāma and said, “Let us place our trust in you.” Hearing their plea, Rāma listened attentively and replied with humility, “May you all be gracious to me; within me is a profound sense of modesty.” When these revered brāhmaṇas approached him as guests, Rāma asked, “What should I do for you?” They answered, “We are greatly afflicted, O Rāma. Protect us in this forest, especially during our offerings and on festival days, for the formidable rākṣasas, eaters of flesh, harass us relentlessly. The ascetics devoted to austerity are oppressed by these night-dwellers. You are our supreme refuge as we seek a way out. Though, by the power of our austerities, we could destroy the rākṣasas, we do not wish to break the penance we have so long maintained. Austerity is ever beset with obstacles and difficult to practice, O Rāghava. Therefore, even as we are devoured, we do not utter curses. We, the ascetics of Daṇḍaka, afflicted by rākṣasas, seek your protection, together with your brother, for we are under your guardianship in this forest.” Having listened to their entire appeal, Rāma turned to Sītā and said, “O daughter of Janaka, I have given my word to the sages of Daṇḍaka forest, and having pledged it, I cannot break it while I live. It is my cherished principle never to act otherwise toward the sages. I would even abandon my life, or you, Sītā, along with Lakṣmaṇa, but having made a promise to the brāhmaṇas, I cannot forsake it. Therefore, I must surely protect the sages. Even if I had not given my word, O Vaidehī, how could I again pledge? Out of affection and friendship, you have spoken these words to me, and I am fully satisfied with you, Sītā. One who is unworthy is not so instructed. This is fitting and proper for your noble lineage, O beautiful one. You are my companion in righteousness, more precious to me than life itself.” Having thus spoken to his beloved Sītā, the daughter of the king of Mithilā, the great-souled Rāma, bearing his bow, set out with Lakṣmaṇa for the delightful hermitages. Let the eleventh chapter now be heard from the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Araṇyakaṇḍa. Rāma walked ahead, Sītā, radiant as ever, was in the middle, and Lakṣmaṇa, holding his bow, followed behind. Together, they journeyed, observing the rocky slopes, forests, and delightful rivers, with Sītā in their midst. Along the way, they saw cranes and chakravāka birds wandering the riverbanks, and lakes filled with lotuses and teeming with waterfowl. Herds of deer, intoxicated and horned, buffaloes, wild boars, and elephants hostile to trees passed before their eyes. After traveling a long distance, as the sun was setting, they came upon a beautiful lake, ten yojanas wide, crowded with lotuses and water-lilies, adorned with herds of elephants, and filled with cranes, swans, kadamba birds, and many aquatic creatures. In this charming lake, whose waters were clear, the sound of singing and musical instruments was heard, though no one could be seen. Curious, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa approached a sage named Dharmabhṛt and asked him about this wondrous phenomenon. “O great sage, hearing such marvelous sounds with no one in sight has filled us with curiosity. Please tell us what this is.” Thus addressed, the sage, whose soul was devoted to righteousness, began to recount the power of the lake. “There was a great sage named Māṇḍakarṇi, who performed intense austerity for ten thousand years, subsisting on air alone, while residing in the water. The gods, led by Agni, became disturbed, for the sage desired a place among them, and all the dwellers of heaven were troubled in mind. To obstruct his austerity, the gods appointed five chief apsarases, radiant as lightning. By their charm, the sage, who had seen the highest and lowest, was brought under the sway of passion, fulfilling the gods’ purpose. These five apsarases became his wives, and in the lake, a hidden house was built for them. There, the apsarases dwell as they please, delighting the sage, who has embraced youth, with their ascetic practices and union. The sounds of instruments, the jingling of ornaments, and enchanting songs that you hear arise from their playful activities.” “Wonderful!” exclaimed the noble-minded Rāghava, accepting the sage’s words along with his illustrious brother. As they spoke, Rāma beheld a circle of hermitages, surrounded by kusa grass and bark garments, filled with the divine radiance of Brahman. Together with Vaidehī and Lakṣmaṇa, Rāma entered this splendid circle of hermitages. There, he stayed comfortably, honored by the great sages, and visited their hermitages in turn. The master of mighty weapons, Rāma, had previously dwelt among them, sometimes for several months, sometimes for a whole year, living in the company of those ascetics.