With fierce determination and sharp, powerful claws, the noble bird Jaṭāyu attacked Rāvaṇa, inflicting numerous wounds upon the demon’s body. Enraged by this resistance, the ten-headed Rāvaṇa seized ten dreadful arrows, each resembling the very rods of death, intent on destroying his formidable enemy. He released these arrows, swift, straight, and terrible—sharp as stone-tipped weapons—piercing Jaṭāyu’s body. Despite his wounds, Jaṭāyu saw Sītā, tearful and afraid, on the Rākṣasa’s chariot. Ignoring the pain from the arrows, he rushed at Rāvaṇa, determined to protect her. With immense brilliance, the great bird shattered Rāvaṇa’s jeweled bow and arrows with his feet. Rāvaṇa, overcome by rage, grabbed another bow and unleashed a torrent of hundreds and thousands of arrows upon Jaṭāyu. Covered by arrows, the lord of birds looked as though he had returned to his nest, surrounded by feathers. Yet, with a mighty shake of his wings, Jaṭāyu scattered the arrows and broke Rāvaṇa’s new bow with his powerful feet. He shrugged off Rāvaṇa’s fiery, blazing showers of arrows, undaunted and shining with great brilliance. In battle, Jaṭāyu struck down Rāvaṇa’s swift, divine horses—creatures armored in gold and bearing demonic faces. He then destroyed the magnificent chariot, adorned with three banners, ablaze like fire, and decorated with jeweled steps. With swift force, he knocked down the umbrella, shining like the full moon, along with the fans and the rakṣasas who held them. Jaṭāyu, the mighty king of birds, used his beak to strike and tear off the splendid head of Rāvaṇa’s charioteer. With his bow shattered, chariot lost, horses and charioteer slain, Rāvaṇa fell to the ground, clutching Vaidehī tightly in his arms. Witnessing Rāvaṇa’s fall and the destruction of his vehicle, the celestial beings praised Jaṭāyu, exclaiming, “Well done, well done!” But Rāvaṇa, seeing the bird chief exhausted and aged, felt elated. Seizing Maithilī, he leapt up once more. Placing Janaka’s daughter upon his lap, Rāvaṇa, now left only with his sword and all his means destroyed, began to depart. Yet Jaṭāyu, king of vultures, rose again, blocking Rāvaṇa’s path. With great brilliance, he spoke: “Rāvaṇa of little understanding, you are taking Rāma’s wife, whose arrows strike like thunderbolts, and in doing so you bring destruction upon the rākṣasas. With your friends, relatives, ministers, army, and attendants, you drink poison as if it were water, so eager are you for this ruin. Those who fail to understand the consequences of their actions, lacking discernment, quickly perish—just as you shall. You are bound by the noose of time; where can you escape it? Like a fish caught with bait, you are seized for destruction. “O Rāvaṇa, the two sons of Raghu, descended from Kakutstha, will never tolerate your assault nor the violation of this hermitage. The act you have committed—cowardly and condemned by the world—is the way of thieves, not the path of heroes. If you are truly a warrior, then stand and fight for a moment, Rāvaṇa! You will lie slain on the ground, just as your brother Khara did. At the time of death, whatever action a man undertakes, if it is unrighteous, leads only to his own destruction—and such a deed you have now chosen. Who would perform an act whose consequence is sin? Not even the lord of the world, the self-born divine one, would do so.” Having spoken these auspicious words, the mighty Jaṭāyu forcefully attacked the ten-headed Rāvaṇa, falling upon his back. Seizing him, Jaṭāyu tore at him from all sides with sharp claws, just as a skilled elephant-rider might attack a vicious elephant. With his beak pressing down on Rāvaṇa’s back, he ripped at him with claws, wings, and beak, even tearing out the demon’s hair. Tormented again and again by the king of vultures, Rāvaṇa’s lips quivered with rage and his body trembled. Still clutching Vaidehī on his left thigh, Rāvaṇa struck the suffering Jaṭāyu with his palm, his mind consumed by anger. But Jaṭāyu evaded the blow and, with his beak, tore off ten of Rāvaṇa’s left arms. Miraculously, the severed arms instantly grew back, blazing with streams of poison like serpents emerging from an anthill. Now filled with fury, Rāvaṇa cast Sītā aside and struck Jaṭāyu with fists and feet. A fierce battle erupted for a moment between the chief of the Rākṣasas and the foremost of birds, both mighty in strength. As Jaṭāyu struggled for Rāma’s sake, Rāvaṇa drew his sword and, with a ruthless blow, cut off Jaṭāyu’s wings, feet, and sides. With his wings severed by the demon’s savage act, the great vulture, his life nearly spent, fell suddenly to the earth. Seeing Jaṭāyu fallen, drenched in blood, Vaidehī, distressed, rushed toward him as one would to a dear kinsman. The lord of Laṅkā beheld Jaṭāyu lying on the ground, resembling a dark rain cloud, his chest pale, his noble strength spent, still and silent like a fire at the end of a forest blaze.