After performing a glorious and exceedingly difficult deed, the noble king of vultures fell in battle. Honored as one would a great sage, he attained a blessed state for himself, his sacrifice forever remembered by those who witnessed it. Rama and Lakshmana, having completed the water-rite for the foremost of birds, fixed their minds firmly on their search for Sita. With resolve like Indra and Vishnu, they entered the forest, their hearts unwavering. Now begins the sixty-ninth sarga in the glorious Valmiki Ramayana, Aranyakanda. Having performed the water-rite for their fallen friend, the two Raghavas set out through the forest, searching for Sita, moving toward the western direction. Soon, bearing their bows, arrows, and swords, the two sons of the Ikshvaku lineage turned south, undeterred, proceeding along the path. The forest before them was thickly overgrown with bushes, trees, and countless creepers. It was surrounded on all sides, difficult to traverse, dense, and terrifying to behold. Swiftly crossing this daunting terrain, the two mighty warriors continued southward, passing through the very dreadful great forest. After traveling three krośas beyond Janasthana, Rama and Lakshmana, full of energy, entered the dense Krauncha forest. The woods resembled masses of various clouds, delightful in every direction, adorned with flowers of many colors, and filled with herds of deer and flocks of birds. Driven by the desire to see Vaidehi, the two wandered through the forest, stopping here and there, grieving over Sita’s abduction. After going three krośas eastward, they passed through the Krauncha forest and came near the hermitage of Matanga. There, they saw a dreadful forest, filled with many fearsome beasts and birds, crowded with various trees, and entirely dense with great trunks. On the mountain, the sons of Dasaratha spotted a cave, deep as the underworld and perpetually shrouded in darkness. Approaching the cave, the tiger-like men saw, not far from its entrance, a rakshasi of immense form and distorted face. She was terrifying to the faint-hearted, hideous, dreadful in appearance, with a hanging belly, sharp fangs, fierce, and harsh-skinned. She was devouring fearsome animals, monstrous, with disheveled hair—the two brothers, Rama and Lakshmana, saw her. As they advanced, with Lakshmana in front, she approached and said, “Come, let us enjoy,” and seized Lakshmana. Embracing Saumitri, she spoke, “I am Ayomukhi by name; you are fortunate, you are dear to me. Lord, in the mountain fastnesses and on the riverbanks, you will enjoy a long life with me, O hero.” Thus addressed, Lakshmana became enraged. He drew his sword, and, as a destroyer of foes, cut off her ears, nose, and breasts. With her ears and nose severed, the rakshasi howled in a hoarse voice and fled the way she had come, dreadful and defeated. When she had departed, Rama and Lakshmana, destroyers of enemies, entered the dense forest with renewed vigor. Then Lakshmana, steadfast, virtuous, and pure, spoke to his radiant brother with joined palms, “My arm throbs intensely, my mind is agitated, and I observe many unfavorable omens. Therefore, noble one, be prepared and heed my words; for these omens of mine immediately foretell alarm. This bird called Vanjulaka, exceedingly dreadful, cries out as if proclaiming our victory in battle.” As the two searched with vigor, a great sound arose in the forest, as if shattering it. The sound, as if tightly enveloped by the wind, seemed to fill the entire woodland. Eager to discover its source, Rama, sword in hand and accompanied by his brother, beheld a mighty-bodied rakshasa of vast chest. They approached this rakshasa, standing before them, headless and neckless—Kabandha, with a mouth on his belly. He was covered with sharp, bristling hair, towering like a great mountain, dark as a rain cloud, and terrible, with a roar like thunder. His brow blazed like a mass of fire, and he had vast, tawny, outstretched wings. A single fearsome eye was clearly visible on his chest, and with great fangs, he licked his huge mouth. Devouring dreadful bears, lions, deer, and birds, Kabandha moved his two terrible arms, each a yojana long. With his hands, he seized various bears, flocks of birds, and deer, dragging and pulling many leaders of herds. Stationed, blocking the path of the two brothers as they advanced, they saw him at a distance of a krośa after passing by. Kabandha was immense, dreadful, terrifying, covered with arms, and exceedingly horrible in appearance, like a trunk in form. Stretching out his vast arms to their utmost, the mighty-armed Kabandha seized both Raghavas together, forcefully gripping them. The two brothers, armed with swords and strong bows, fierce in energy and mighty-armed, found themselves helpless, being dragged by the powerful being. Yet, in the face of danger, the heroic Raghava was not at all disturbed, his courage unwavering. Lakshmana, however, due to his youth and lack of support, was indeed shaken by the ordeal.