Following the path shown by Sage Sutikshna, Rama, Lakshmana, and Sita journeyed comfortably through the forest. Rama, his heart filled with joy, turned to Lakshmana and spoke, “Surely, this must be the hermitage of the great-souled sage Agastya’s virtuous brother, for it now appears before us.” As they walked, Rama pointed out the signs that confirmed his words. The forest around them was abundant: thousands of trees bent low, heavy with fruit and vibrant flowers. On the breeze came the sharp, spicy fragrance of ripe pippali peppers, carried suddenly through the air. Here and there, they saw neat piles of gathered firewood, and freshly cut darbha grass, shining like cat’s eye gems, lay scattered about. In the heart of the forest, a column of smoke rose, dark as a raincloud, marking the spot of the hermitage fire. At secluded bathing places, Rama and Lakshmana saw twice-born sages, their rituals complete, offering freshly gathered flowers with devotion. Rama continued, “Gentle brother, as I have heard from Sutikshna, this indeed must be the hermitage of Agastya’s brother. For the welfare of the world, this virtuous one subdued Death itself by force and made this southern region a sanctuary.” He went on to recount the tale associated with this sacred place. “Here, it is said, once dwelt the cruel asura brothers, Vatapi and Ilvala, mighty and relentless slayers of Brahmins. Ilvala, disguising himself as a Brahmin, would deceitfully invite Brahmins to a funeral feast. After performing the rites for his brother, he would have Vatapi take the form of a ram, cook him, and feed the flesh to the unsuspecting guests according to the prescribed rituals of a śrāddha. When the Brahmins had eaten, Ilvala would call out loudly, ‘Vatapi, come out!’ At this, Vatapi, bleating like a ram, would tear forth from their bodies, killing them all. In this way, thousands of Brahmins met their end at the hands of these shape-shifting, flesh-eating asuras. But when the gods implored him, the great sage Agastya accepted such a śrāddha and consumed Vatapi himself. Afterwards, when Ilvala performed the final rites and called for his brother to emerge, the wise and eminent sage Agastya smiled and replied, ‘How can one who has been digested by me—your rakshasa brother in the form of a ram, who has gone to Yama’s abode—come out?’ Hearing these words, Ilvala, furious at the loss of his brother, attacked the sage. But Agastya, radiant as blazing fire, reduced him to ashes with a mere glance. Thus, out of compassion for the Brahmins, this great and difficult deed was accomplished here, in this hermitage adorned with a tranquil lake and forest.” As Rama finished telling this tale to Lakshmana, the sun set and evening twilight descended. They performed their evening worship together, then entered the hermitage and greeted the sage who dwelled there. They were warmly welcomed, and Raghava spent the night comfortably, partaking of roots and fruits. When dawn broke and the sun rose, Rama took leave of Agastya’s brother, bowing respectfully. “I bow to you, venerable one. I have spent the night in comfort. I now take my leave, for I go to see your illustrious elder brother, my teacher.” Receiving permission to depart, Rama, Lakshmana, and Sita set forth again, following the path through the forest. Along the way, they saw wild rice, jackfruit, śāla trees, vañjulā, tinisha, ciribilva, madhūka, bilva, and tinduka trees. The forest was alive with hundreds of trees adorned with blossoming creepers, their tips covered in flowers. Some trees bore the marks of elephants’ trunks, some were brightened by playful monkeys, while others echoed with the cries of intoxicated flocks of birds. Rama, his eyes like lotuses, spoke to Lakshmana, the heroic and prosperous one walking behind him: “See, the trees have glossy leaves, the animals and birds are gentle, and not far from here lies the hermitage of the great sage whose mind is pure. This hermitage, renowned throughout the world as Agastya’s, is before us. By his deeds, it removes the fatigue of the weary. The forest is thick with smoke, adorned with garlands of bark-cloth, peaceful with calm herds of deer, and resounding with the calls of many birds. He, desiring the welfare of the worlds, subdued Death by force and made the southern quarter a place of refuge through his virtuous deeds. This is the hermitage of that sage, whose power made the southern direction feared by the Rākṣasas—visible to them, but never enjoyed. Since the time this quarter was claimed by the virtuous one, the night-roaming beings have been peaceful and free from enmity. This southern quarter, named after the blessed sage, is famed in the three worlds and cannot be overcome by those of cruel deeds. Even the great Vindhya mountain, who once wished to block the path of the sun, obeys his command and does not grow higher.” Thus, Rama, Lakshmana, and Sita approached the sacred hermitage of Agastya, the air filled with the memory of mighty deeds and the gentle peace bestowed by the sage’s presence.