Placing his head low upon the ground, stretching out his feet, and casting aside his body, the great vulture Jatayu finally fell lifeless upon the earth. Rama, beholding that noble bird with coppery eyes now still and unmoving like a mountain, was overwhelmed by sorrow. He turned to Lakshmana and spoke, his voice heavy with grief: “For many years, this vulture dwelled happily among the Rakshasas here in the Dandaka forest, and now, he lies destroyed. He who lived long, who rose up after so many years, now lies slain today. Indeed, Lakshmana, time is insurmountable. “See, Lakshmana, this vulture—my benefactor—has been slain. When Sita was seized by the powerful Ravana, he encountered her and strove to defend her. Abandoning a great kingdom of vultures, inherited from his father and grandfather, this lord of birds gave up his life for my sake. Truly, the virtuous, the righteous, the brave, and those who offer refuge are found everywhere—even among creatures born in animal forms. “The sorrow caused by Sita’s abduction, gentle one, does not grieve me as deeply as the destruction of this vulture, who perished for my sake, O subduer of foes. Just as my illustrious father, King Dasharatha, is worthy of honor and reverence, so too is this lord of birds. Saumitri, bring wood; I will kindle a fire and cremate the king of vultures, who has met his end for my sake. I will lay this protector of the bird world upon the funeral pyre; I shall burn him, Saumitri, who 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 set it alight. Then, together with Lakshmana, he entered the forest, hunted large, great-bodied animals, and offered their flesh to the bird, as prescribed by sacred rites. Rama took the meat, cut into pieces, and offered it upon a beautiful green meadow, performing the ancestral rite as the twice-born prescribe for the departed, to send the vulture king to heaven. Afterward, the two sons of the best of men went to the river Godavari and offered water to the king of vultures. Having bathed, the Raghavas performed the water-rite for Jatayu, following the procedure prescribed in the scriptures. Thus, the king of vultures, who had performed a glorious and exceedingly difficult deed and had fallen in battle, was honored like a great sage and attained a blessed state. Having performed these rites for the foremost of birds, the two brothers, their minds firmly set upon searching for Sita, entered the forest once again, like Indra and Vishnu themselves. Now begins the sixty-ninth sarga of the glorious Valmiki Ramayana, Aranyakanda. Having completed the water-rite for Jatayu, the two Raghavas set out, searching for Sita in the forest, moving toward the western direction. Then, changing course to the south, bearing their bows, arrows, and swords, the two Ikshvakus pressed on, undeterred by hardship. The forest they entered was thickly overgrown with bushes, trees, and countless creepers, surrounded on all sides, dense and terrifying to behold. Swiftly crossing this dreadful expanse and taking the southern path, the two mighty warriors pressed on through the great and fearsome forest. After traveling three krośas beyond Janasthana, Rama and Lakshmana, full of energy, entered the dense Krauncha forest. There, the forest resembled masses of various-colored clouds, delightful in all directions, adorned with many-hued flowers, and filled with herds of deer and flocks of birds. Yearning to find Vaidehi, the two wandered through the forest, stopping here and there, their hearts heavy with grief over Sita’s abduction. Then, having gone three krośas eastward, the brothers passed through the Krauncha forest and came near the hermitage of the sage Matanga. There, they saw a dreadful forest, filled with many fearsome beasts and birds, crowded with various kinds of trees, and densely packed with towering trunks. On the mountain, they noticed a cave—deep as the underworld and forever shrouded in darkness. Approaching the cave, the tiger-like Rama and Lakshmana saw, not far from its entrance, a rakshasi of immense size and distorted face. She was terrifying to the faint-hearted, hideous, dreadful in appearance, with a hanging belly, sharp fangs, fierce aspect, and rough skin. She devoured fearsome animals, was monstrous in form, and her hair was wild and disheveled. There, the two brothers saw her as she advanced toward them. With Lakshmana in front, she approached the heroes and said, “Come, let us enjoy,” and seized Lakshmana. Embracing Saumitri, she spoke: “I am Ayomukhi by name. You are fortunate, and you are dear to me. Lord, in these mountain fastnesses and by the riverbanks, you will enjoy a long life with me, O hero.” Thus addressed, Lakshmana, enraged, drew his sword. The destroyer of foes cut off her ears, nose, and breasts. Howling in a hoarse voice, her ears and nose severed, the dreadful-looking rakshasi fled the way she had come, defeated and wounded.