As Rama journeyed through the forest, he beheld a wild and fearsome place, its depths adorned with lions, tigers, boars, and elephants. Great trees—dhava, ashvakarna, kakubha, bilva, tinduka, and patala—rose thickly, their trunks entwined with jujube trees. The sight of such a dreadful forest stirred Rama’s curiosity, and he wondered at its ominous atmosphere. The sage Vishvamitra, radiant with immense energy, turned to Rama and said, “Listen, O child of Kakutstha, to the reason why this forest is so dreadful. Long ago, two prosperous regions flourished here—Malada and Karusha—created by the gods themselves. After Indra, the slayer of Vritra, had accomplished his great deed, he was overwhelmed by impurity and hunger, and the terrible sin of brahma-hatya entered his being. The gods and ascetic sages, seeing Indra thus afflicted, bathed him with sacred vessels, cleansing him of his impurity here upon this very earth. The defilement they removed they deposited in this place, and from it arose Malada and Karusha, born from Indra’s own body. The gods rejoiced as Indra was purified and restored to his former glory. Pleased with the land, Indra granted it a supreme boon, declaring that these two regions would attain renown in the world. The Maladas and Karushas, who bore the traces of his impurity, were praised by the gods, who commended Indra for his act. For a time, Malada and Karusha prospered, their people joyful, wealthy, and blessed with abundant grain. But their happiness did not last. In time, a yakshini of fearsome power and changing form troubled the land. Her name was Tataka, the wife of the wise Sunda, and she possessed the strength of a thousand elephants. Her son, Maricha, was a rakshasa of formidable might, with broad arms, a great head, a wide mouth, and a massive body. These two, terrifying in appearance, began to torment and destroy the people of Malada and Karusha. Tataka, wicked in her deeds, devastated the regions and made her dwelling nearby, blocking the path at a distance of half a yojana. Therefore, Rama, you must enter Tataka’s forest and, relying on your own strength, destroy this evil one. By my command, make this region safe once more, for no one dares approach as things stand now. This land, once sanctified, has been ruined by the fierce and intolerable yakshini Tataka. All this, Rama, is the story of the dreadful forest before you. Having heard these words from the immeasurable sage, Rama, tiger among men, replied with humility and respect. “O foremost of sages, it is said that this yakshini is of little strength. How, then, does she bear the power of a thousand elephants?” Vishvamitra, delighted by Rama’s inquiry, spoke gently to him and to Lakshmana. “Hear, O Rama, how Tataka became so powerful. By a boon granted to her, she bears the strength of a thousand elephants, though she is by nature weak. Long ago, there was a great yaksha named Suketu, mighty and virtuous. He was childless and performed severe austerities. Pleased with his devotion, the lord of the yakshas granted him a jewel among daughters, Tataka, and endowed her with the strength of a thousand elephants. Yet, Suketu did not receive a son, though he was renowned. As Tataka grew in beauty and youth, she was given as wife to Sunda, the illustrious son of Jambha. In time, she bore a son named Maricha, who, by a curse, became a rakshasa. When Sunda was slain, Tataka and her son, driven by hunger and rage, attacked the eminent sage Agastya. As Tataka, roaring with fury, charged at the sage, Agastya spoke to Maricha, ‘Assume the form of a rakshasa!’ Then, filled with great anger, Agastya cursed Tataka as well, saying, ‘O great yakshini, devourer of men, monstrous and deformed of face, abandon your former form—let a dreadful appearance be yours!’ Thus transformed by the curse, Tataka, seized by wrath, began to devastate this region, once blessed by Agastya. Therefore, Rama, for the welfare of cows and Brahmanas, you must slay this wicked and terrible yakshini, Tataka, whose evil deeds are great. No man in the three worlds, save you, O delight of the Raghus, is able to kill her, for she is empowered by a curse. Do not hesitate, O best of men, to slay a woman in this case. For the welfare of the four orders, a prince must act as duty demands. Whether an act is cruel or not, sinful or otherwise, it must be done by the protector for the good of the people. This is the eternal duty of those entrusted with kingship. Slay the unrighteous one, O descendant of Kakutstha, for there is no righteousness in her. It is heard, O king, that in ancient times Indra slew Manthara, daughter of Virocana, when she sought to destroy the earth. And long ago, Vishnu himself slew Kavyā’s wife, the devoted spouse of Bhrigu, who wished for a world without Indra. Many noble princes have slain unrighteous women for the sake of righteousness. Therefore, casting aside hesitation, fulfill my command, O Rama, and slay Tataka.