Lakṣmaṇa, hearing Sugrīva’s doubts, laughed gently and asked, “Sugrīva, what proof would convince you that Vāli can truly be slain?” Sugrīva replied thoughtfully, “Look at these seven sāl trees. Vāli once pierced each one—not just once, but repeatedly. If Rāma can split them with a single arrow, then I will believe in his power to defeat Vāli.” Sugrīva continued, “Lakṣmaṇa, Vāli once lifted the bones of a slain buffalo and hurled them two hundred bow-lengths with just one foot.” Having spoken, Sugrīva’s eyes reddened with emotion. He paused to meditate on Rāma, then addressed him again: “Vāli is a hero, proud and renowned for his strength and prowess. That mighty monkey has never been defeated in battle. Even the gods find his deeds difficult. Reflecting on this, I fled to Ṛṣyamūka out of fear.” He added, “Thinking of Vāli, unconquerable and wrathful, I have not left Ṛṣyamūka. Anxious and suspicious, I wander this great forest with my faithful ministers, led by Hanumān. Now, I have found a praiseworthy friend, devoted to friendship. I rely on you, O tiger among men, as one would rely on the Himalayas. Yet, I know the strength of my powerful, wicked brother. Your valor in battle, Rāghava, is not visible to me. I do not compare you, nor do I disrespect or fear you; but his terrifying deeds have made me cautious. Truly, your words, courage, and bearing hint at a great energy, like fire hidden beneath ash.” Rāma listened to Sugrīva’s noble words and smiled. He replied, “If you do not yet have confidence in our prowess, O monkey, I will give you a praiseworthy assurance in battle.” With these words, Rāma, elder brother of Lakṣmaṇa, comforted Sugrīva and playfully touched Dundubhi’s dried body with his toe. Then, demonstrating his might, he lifted the demon’s body and flung it ten yojanas away with just his toe. Seeing this astonishing feat, Sugrīva addressed Rāma again, shining like the sun before Lakṣmaṇa and the foremost monkeys. He said, “Once, my body was fresh, full of flesh and vigor, when my brother Vāli, exhausted and intoxicated, threw it. But now, O Rāghava, it is light, without flesh, almost like straw; yet you, in your delight, have thrown it so far. Here, it is difficult to discern whose strength is greater—yours or his—for the difference between fresh and dried is immense. That is the very doubt I have regarding your strength and his. If you split a single sāl tree, the difference in strength will become clear.” Sugrīva urged, “Therefore, string your bow, stretching it like an elephant’s trunk. Draw it fully to your ear and release a mighty arrow. If you shoot this sāl tree with an arrow, there is no doubt it will be pierced. Enough of deliberation, my dear—certainly do this, O king, for I have pledged you. Just as you are foremost among the radiant, as Himālaya is among the great mountains, and as the lion is chief among beasts, so are you the best among men in valor.” Now begins the twelfth chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Kiṣkindhā Kāṇḍa. Hearing Sugrīva’s well-spoken words, Rāma of great splendor took up his bow to inspire confidence. The giver of honor grasped his formidable bow and a single arrow. Aiming at the sāl tree, he released the arrow, filling the directions with its thunderous sound. That arrow, adorned with gold and shot with great force, pierced through all seven sāl trees, the mountain slope beyond, and entered the earth. In an instant, the swift arrow emerged and returned to Rāma’s quiver. Witnessing the seven sāl trees split by Rāma’s arrow, Sugrīva, the foremost among monkeys, was filled with utmost wonder. Overjoyed, his ornaments dangling, he fell to the ground with his head bowed, joining his palms to Rāghava. Delighted, he spoke to Rāma, knower of righteousness and master of weapons, who stood before him as a hero: “O best of men, you are capable of defeating even all the gods along with Indra in battle with your arrows—what need to speak of Vāli, O lord? By whom, O descendant of Kakutstha, seven great sāl trees, the mountain, and the earth were split with a single arrow—who could stand before you in battle?” Sugrīva declared, “Today my sorrow is gone, and my joy supreme, having found you, my friend, equal to Mahendra and Varuṇa. Today itself, for the sake of my dear friend, O descendant of Kakutstha, slay that enemy who appears as a brother—Vāli. With joined palms, I beseech you.” Rāma replied, “Let us now proceed swiftly to Kishkindha. You go ahead. Upon arrival, summon Sugriva and Vali, who bears the scent of brotherhood.” All of them hurried to Kishkindha, the city of Vali, and, concealing themselves among the trees, stood in the dense forest. For the purpose of calling Vāli, Sugrīva let out a dreadful roar, forcefully uttered, splitting the sky with its speed and intensity.