Rama gazed sorrowfully upon the mighty king of vultures, Jatayu, his father’s dear friend, now lying lifeless on the ground—a victim of the cruel reversal of Rama’s fortune. Overwhelmed by grief, Rama spoke again and again of the bird’s loyalty and sacrifice. With Lakshmana by his side, he approached Jatayu and, with the tenderness of a son, gently touched the wounded bird. Embracing the dying king of vultures, whose wings had been severed and whose body was drenched in blood, Rama cried out in anguish, “Where has Maithili, dearer to me than life itself, gone?” Overcome, he fell to the earth, his heart heavy with sorrow. Seeing Jatayu struck down by a merciless blow, Rama turned to Lakshmana, his steadfast companion, and said, “Surely this noble bird, fighting on my behalf, was slain in battle by the demon, and now gives up his life for me. Though his body is grievously wounded, life still lingers within him, Lakshmana; yet, robbed of his voice, he gazes at us helplessly.” Rama pleaded with the dying bird, “O Jatayu, if you are able, speak to me of Sita—may good come to you—and tell me also of your own slaying. For what reason did Ravana abduct my noble wife? What fault of mine led him to take my beloved? Tell me, O best of birds, how was her face, radiant as the moon, at that moment? What words did Sita speak? Describe to me the strength, the form, and the deeds of that Rakshasa. Where is his abode, father? I beg you, answer my questions.” As Rama lamented, bereft and desperate, the righteous Jatayu summoned his fading strength. With faltering speech, he replied, “Child, Sita was carried off by the king of the Rakshasas, Ravana, that evil-minded one, who used great illusion on a stormy, wind-swept day. When I was exhausted, that night-wanderer cut off my wings and, seizing Sita of Videha, went swiftly southward. “My life is ebbing away, my vision reels, O Raghava; I see trees with golden crests, their tops scattered. In but a moment’s time, Ravana, taking Sita, vanished—just as lost wealth is swiftly reclaimed by its owner. That moment is called ‘Vinda,’ but, O Kakutstha, Ravana did not realize its significance. Having taken your beloved Janaki, Ravana, lord of Rakshasas, like a fish swallowing the hook, will quickly meet his end. “Do not grieve for the daughter of Janaka; soon you will rejoice with Vaidehi, after slaying Ravana in battle.” As Jatayu spoke, blood mixed with flesh flowed from his mouth, and his life ebbed away. With his final breath, he revealed, “He is the son of Vishrava himself, the brother of Vaishravana.” With these words, the lord of birds surrendered his hard-won life. Rama, his palms joined in supplication, pleaded, “Speak, speak!” But Jatayu’s spirit had already departed, soaring to the heavens. Placing his head gently on the ground, stretching out his feet, the great bird cast aside his mortal body and fell to the earth. Rama beheld the lifeless form of Jatayu, his coppery eyes now still, unmoving like a mountain. Stricken by many sorrows, Rama spoke to Lakshmana, “For many years, this bird dwelled happily among the Rakshasas in the Dandaka forest, and now he lies destroyed. He who lived long, who rose up after many years, lies slain today—for time is indeed insurmountable. “See, Lakshmana, this vulture, my benefactor, has been slain. He encountered Sita when she was seized by the powerful Ravana. Abandoning a great kingdom of vultures, inherited from his father and grandfather, this lord of birds gave up his life for my sake. Indeed, virtue, courage, and the spirit of offering refuge are found everywhere, even among creatures born in animal forms. “The sorrow of Sita’s abduction does not afflict me as deeply as the loss of this vulture, who perished for my sake, O subduer of foes. Just as the illustrious King Dasharatha, my renowned father, is worthy of honor and respect, so too is this lord of birds.” Turning to Lakshmana, Rama said, “Saumitri, bring wood; I will kindle a fire and cremate the king of vultures, who has given his life for me. I will lay this protector of the bird world upon the funeral pyre and burn him, Saumitri, for he was slain by the fierce demon. The destiny attained by those devoted to sacrifice, those who maintain sacred fires, who never turn back, and who give away land—by me, you are permitted, O king of vultures, great in spirit: go to the highest worlds. Having been honored by me, depart.” Having spoken thus, Rama—righteous-souled and grieving as for a kinsman—placed the lord of birds upon the blazing pyre and performed his cremation. Then, together with Lakshmana, Rama went into the forest, hunted large, great-bodied animals, and offered their flesh to Jatayu, as was proper. Taking the flesh, cut into pieces, Rama placed it upon a beautiful green meadow as an offering to the bird. He performed the ancestral rites prescribed by the twice-born for the departed, ensuring Jatayu’s journey to heaven. Afterward, the two sons of Dasharatha went to the Godavari river and offered water to the king of vultures. Having bathed, the Raghavas performed the water-rite for Jatayu, following the procedures laid down in the scriptures, thus honoring the noble bird who had given his life for righteousness and love.