Then, filled with noble rage and radiant in his might, Raghava—Rama—unleashed the powerful Manava missile, aiming it directly at Maricha’s chest. Struck by this supreme weapon, Maricha was flung a full hundred yojanas, hurled far into the surging ocean. There he spun, unconscious and tormented by the chilling force of the arrow. Witnessing this, Rama turned to Lakshmana and said, “Behold, Lakshmana, the Manava arrow, crafted by Manu himself, bewilders this rakshasa and carries him far away, yet spares his life.” Rama’s resolve did not waver. “As for the others,” he declared, “those merciless, wicked rakshasas who destroy sacrifices and feast on blood—I shall slay them all.” Thus speaking, as if to demonstrate his skill, the scion of Raghu seized the mighty Agneya missile. He hurled it at Subahu’s chest, and at once Subahu fell lifeless to the ground. Then, taking up the Vayavya weapon, Rama sent it forth, scattering the remaining rakshasas and bringing joy to the assembled sages. Having destroyed all the rakshasas who threatened the sacrifices, Rama, the delight of the Raghus, was honored by the grateful sages just as Indra was once honored after victory. When the sacrifice was complete, the great sage Vishvamitra, seeing that all evil had been cleared from the quarters, addressed Kakutstha, saying, “O mighty-armed one, my purpose is fulfilled; you have carried out your teacher’s command. O illustrious hero, you have truly sanctified this Siddhashrama.” Thus praising Rama, Vishvamitra approached the evening rites together with the two princes. Hear now the next chapter in the glorious Valmiki Ramayana, in the Balakanda. Having accomplished their purpose, Rama and Lakshmana spent that night there, their hearts joyful and filled with delight. When dawn broke, after performing their morning rites, the two brothers approached Vishvamitra and the other sages. Greeting the foremost sage, blazing like fire, they addressed him with sweet and noble words: “O tiger among sages, here we stand as your attendants. Command us, best of sages—what shall we do?” At this, all the great sages, with Vishvamitra at their head, spoke to Rama: “O best of men, Janaka, the king of Mithila, will soon perform a most righteous sacrifice. There we shall go. And you too, O tiger among men, should come with us; for there you are worthy to behold a wondrous, precious bow. This bow, once bestowed by the gods in assembly, is immeasurably powerful and terrible, shining supremely at the sacrifice. Neither gods, nor gandharvas, nor asuras, nor rakshasas, nor any humans have ever been able to string it. Many mighty princes, eager to test its strength, have tried and failed. This bow, O descendant of Kakutstha, belongs to the great-souled king of Mithila; there you will see both the bow and the most wondrous sacrifice. That supreme bow was granted as the fruit of a sacrifice to the king of Mithila, who is ever praised by the gods. It is kept in the king’s palace as a sacred object, honored with fragrant incense and aguru wood.” Having spoken thus, the great sage made ready to depart, gathering the assembly of seers and the descendant of Kakutstha, and bidding farewell to the forest dwellers: “Farewell to you all; I shall go, my task accomplished, from Siddhashrama to the northern bank of the Jahnavi, to the rocky heights of the Himalayas.” With these words, the tiger among sages, Kauśika—rich in austerity—set out northward. As the great sage departed, a host of followers accompanied him—a distance of a hundred carts—those devoted to the Vedas. Even the groups of deer and birds, dwellers of Siddhashrama, followed the great-souled, austere Vishvamitra. But as the sun set, the assembly of seers and the birds turned back after their long journey. When the sun had set, they bathed and performed the sacred fire offerings. Then, led by Vishvamitra, those of immeasurable energy sat down in quietude. Rama, together with Saumitri, honored the sages and sat before the wise Vishvamitra. Filled with curiosity, Rama, radiant and mighty, questioned the sage: “Revered one, what is this land, adorned with flourishing forests? I wish to hear—may it be well with you—please tell me truly.” Thus addressed by Rama, the virtuous sage, amidst the assembly of seers, began to narrate all that pertained to that land. He began: “There was a great ascetic named Kusha, born from Brahma himself, steadfast in his vows, a knower of righteousness, and honored by the virtuous. This great soul, endowed with immense strength, begot four worthy sons with a noble and virtuous woman from Vidarbha. Their names were Kushamba, Kushanabha, Asurtarajas, and Vasu—radiant, energetic, and intent on upholding the duties of the warrior class. Kusha addressed his sons, righteous and truthful as they were: ‘My sons, govern well; by upholding righteousness, you will obtain great merit.’ Hearing their father’s words, those four foremost among men, the noble princes, each established their own cities.