As Rama and Lakshmana journeyed onward, they drew near the mountain by Lake Pampā. There, they were warned: if anyone of wicked conduct and evil deeds dared to climb the mountain, the Rakshasas dwelling there would seize him as he slept and strike him down. Yet the place was alive with other sounds—the great cries of young elephants playing in the waters of Pampā, belonging to the dwellers of the hermitage of Matanga. These mighty elephants, their bodies streaked with streams of blood, gathered together and roamed apart, swift and dark as clouds. After quenching their thirst with pure, lovely, and cool water—fragrant and clear—they were fully satisfied. Content, these forest-dwellers wandered the woods, mingling freely with bears and tigers whose soft blue fur gleamed in the light. As Rama gazed upon the antelopes, wild boars, and fearless deer, his sorrow began to lift. A great cave adorned the mountain, its entrance covered with rocks and difficult to approach. At the eastern entrance lay a vast pool of cold, delightful water, crowded with trees and filled with many roots and fruits. In this place, the righteous Sugriva dwelled with his troop of monkeys. Sometimes, Kabandha himself stood upon the summit of the mountain, instructing Rama and Lakshmana. Wreathed in garlands and shining like the sun, Kabandha appeared in the sky; Rama and Lakshmana beheld him there. As he stood nearby, the two brothers said to him, “Go forth, proceed!” Kabandha replied, “Go, so that your purpose may be accomplished.” With their permission, Kabandha, well pleased, departed. Assuming his true form, radiant and adorned with splendor, he appeared in the sky before Rama and said, “Make friendship!” Thus, in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, within the Aranya Kanda, the seventy-fourth chapter unfolds. Guided by Kabandha through the forest near Lake Pampā, Rama and Lakshmana, sons of the best of men, set out westward. As they traveled, they beheld mountains covered with honey, flowers, and fruit-bearing trees, seeking Sugriva. Having made camp on a mountain slope, the descendants of Raghu approached the western shore of Lake Pampā. There, they saw the delightful hermitage of Śabarī. Arriving at that lovely hermitage, surrounded by many trees, they gazed upon it and approached Śabarī. The accomplished ascetic, Śabarī, seeing them, rose and joined her palms in reverence, taking hold of the feet of Rama and wise Lakshmana. She offered water for washing their feet and for sipping, all according to proper custom. Rama, then, spoke to the devoted ascetic, established in righteousness, asking, “Are obstacles overcome for you? Is your austerity increasing? Is your anger restrained, and your food regulated, O possessor of ascetic wealth? Are your vows maintained? Is your mind at peace? Has your service to your teachers borne fruit, O gentle speaker?” Questioned thus, Śabarī, elderly and steadfast, accomplished and honored among ascetics, spoke to Rama: “Today, by seeing you, I have attained the fruit of my austerities; today my birth is fulfilled and my teachers are well-honored. My practiced austerity is fruitful, and I shall attain heaven as well, for you, Rama, best of men and god among men, have been worshipped here. By your gracious glance, gentle one, I am purified; by your favor, O subduer of foes, I shall go to the eternal worlds.” She continued, “When you arrived at Citrakūṭa in radiant chariots, from there I ascended to heaven, having served you. By those great sages, knowers of righteousness, I was told: ‘Rama will come to your supremely holy hermitage. You must welcome him as a guest, together with Saumitri; and having seen him, you will attain the highest, eternal worlds.’ Thus addressed, O best of men, I have gathered various forest offerings for your sake.” Rāghava then asked her, who was always excluded from society, about the true power of those great souls from the lineage of Danu, as she knew well. “I have heard of it, but I wish to see it directly, if you permit,” said Rama. Śabarī then showed both of them the great forest: “Behold, dense as a rain cloud, teeming with beasts and birds. This is the forest of Mataṅga, renowned as such, O delight of the Raghus; here, my noble-minded teachers of great splendor performed sacrifices, building a sacred altar, worshipped with mantras. This is the altar facing east, where my honored teachers, with hands trembling from exertion, offered flowers as tribute.” She explained further, “By the power of their austerity, O best of the Raghus, even now the altar shines with incomparable brilliance, illuminating all directions. Unable to go further, exhausted by fasting and weariness, they mentally summoned the seven seas, which gathered here—behold them. After their ritual baths, they placed their bark garments on these trees; even now, O delight of the Raghus, they have not dried out in this place. The flowers offered by them, together with blue lotuses, do not wither, though these acts were performed long ago for the sake of the gods.” Thus, Rama and Lakshmana, guided and blessed, beheld the sanctity and wonders of the hermitage and the forest, their hearts filled with reverence and hope.