In the ancient days, the wise hymns spoke of the generous, whose open hands never led them to ruin or grief. The givers, it was said, are untouched by harm—indeed, all the brightness and beauty of the world seems to flow to those who give. From the very beginning, the generous won fragrant birthplaces and splendidly adorned brides; they gained the sweet drink and the presence of those who come unbidden. For them, swift horses are groomed, and maidens adorn themselves in anticipation. Their dwellings blossom like lotus ponds, resplendent and beautiful, shining with the glory of a divine abode. Among the generous, Bhoja stands out. His well-harnessed horses carry him, and his chariot, splendid with gifts, moves forward. In battle, the gods themselves protect Bhoja, making him victorious among his foes and respected in the assemblies. One day, Sarama, the divine messenger, was questioned as she journeyed far from the familiar path, crossing distant lands and fording the flowing waters of the Rasā. “What were you seeking, Sarama, when you left the known way? What did you intend, and how did you cross the waters?” the Panis asked her. Sarama replied, “I was sent by Indra, seeking the great treasure you Panis have hidden. I crossed the waters out of fear, compelled by my mission.” Curious, the Panis inquired further, “Who is this Indra for whom you come so far? What is he like? Let us make an alliance, so he may become the lord of cattle for us.” But Sarama answered, “I do not know the one to be feared who sent me. The deep rivers cannot hide him. You Panis, struck down by Indra, lie vanquished.” The Panis, boasting of their strength, said, “These cows you seek, Sarama, fly around the ends of heaven. Who will release them to us, armed as they are? Our weapons are sharp.” Sarama rebuked them, “Your words are unworthy, Panis. May your bodies be weak, your paths impassable. May Bṛhaspati grant safety to both sides.” The Panis revealed, “The treasure you seek lies at the base of the rock, heaped with cows, horses, and riches. We, the vigilant Panis, guard it well. You have come to the place marked by our footsteps.” But Sarama reminded them, “Here, the sages came—Ayasyas, Angirases, Navagvas—nourished by Soma. They divided this wide wealth of cattle, and this is the word they spoke, O Panis.” The Panis, seeing Sarama’s resolve, said, “You have arrived, compelled by divine force. I would have made you my sister—do not go back. Let us not divide the cows.” But Sarama stood firm, “I recognize neither brotherhood nor sisterhood here. Indra and the mighty Angirases know the truth. When you Panis concealed the cows, you hid yourselves, but Indra found the better way.” The Panis, thinking themselves superior, hid far away. Yet, the cows, moving by the measure of truth, went forth. Bṛhaspati, Soma, the stone, and the inspired sages found the hidden Panis. In the beginning, those who first transgressed—Salila, Mātariśvan, and the well-digger—spoke out. The divine waters, first-born of truth, carried joy and might. King Soma was the first to restore the Brahman’s wife after she was taken away. Varuṇa and Mitra followed, and Agni, the priest, led her, holding her by the hand. The gods declared that the Brahman’s wife is to be pledged only by hand, never given to the messenger, for thus the kingdom of the Kṣatriya is protected. The ancient gods, and the seven seers in their penance, spoke of her formidable place in the highest heaven. The student of sacred knowledge, walking without enmity, becomes one with the gods. By such a one, Bṛhaspati found the wife led away by Soma, just as the gods recover the sacrificial ladle. The gods, and men as well, restored her, and righteous kings upheld this truth, restoring the Brahman’s wife. Having made her free from guilt, they partook of the earth’s nourishment, singing the great hymn. Then, in the homes of men, Agni, the god Jātavedas, was kindled as the sacrificial fire. He was invoked to bring Mitra and Varuṇa, for he is the wise messenger. Tanūnapāt, sweet-tongued and anointed with honey, was called to accept the thoughts of the worshippers and make the sacrifice successful. Agni, praised and worshipped, was invited with the Vasus, for he is the mighty priest among the gods. The sacred grass was spread eastward, the broad seat laid for the gods and for Aditi. The shining seats were made ready, like adorned wives, and the divine doors were opened wide for the gods’ easy access. The one who awakens the sacrifice was invited near, as Dawn and Night sat together in their place. The divine maidens, radiant and splendid, held their shining beauty. The divine priests, eloquent and wise, measured out the sacrifice for men, inspiring poets and pointing to the ancient light in the east. The three goddesses—Bhāratī, Iḻā, and Sarasvatī—were called to the sacrifice, to bring happiness and insight. Tvaṣṭṛ, who adorned the worlds, was honored with offerings, and Agni, as the Lord of the Forest, tasted the oblation with honey and ghee. Agni, born at once, measured out the sacrifice and became the leader of the gods. At the priest’s command, in the speech of truth, the gods tasted the oblation offered with ‘svāhā.’ The thoughtful ones gathered their thoughts, each offering their ideas, seeking to move Indra with true deeds. Indra, the hero and knower of knowledge, was invoked. The inspiration of truth shone out, the bull, son of the house, came with the cows—rising with force, he separated the great spaces. Indra, famed and victorious, became the path-maker for the sun, the unshaken lord of the cow and heaven, ancient and unconquered. Praised by the Angirases, Indra established the laws of the great ocean, stretched out many regions, and upheld the foundation of truth. Indra knows the measure of heaven and earth; he knows all places and struck down Śuṣṇa. He stretched the great sky with the sun and propped up the support with his pillar. With his thunderbolt, he slew Vṛtra and shattered the godless one’s magic, growing strong with the might of his arms. The banners of the Yadus shone with the dawn and sun, delighting in radiance. When the constellation was seen, it was like the sky—no one knew from where it came or where it truly went. Thus, the hymns recount the glory of the generous, the wisdom of the gods, the victory of truth, and the eternal unfolding of sacrifice and divine order.