In ancient times, Tvaṣṭṛ, the divine artisan, observed that the vessels used for the gods’ sacred drink were not properly honored by those who served them. Frustrated, he declared, “Let us slay them!” For, at the pressing of the soma, others would invent new names, and some would touch the vessels, calling them by the names of maidens. As the ritual unfolded, Indra yoked his two bay horses, the Aśvins readied their chariot, and Bṛhaspati drew near to the all-shaped offering. The gods—Ṛbhu, Vibhvan, and Vāja—arrived, each skilled in their craft, to apportion the sacrificial shares. With their keen thought, the Ṛbhus fashioned a cow from a hide, transforming what was old into something young again. The Saudhanvanas, masters of skill, shaped a horse from another horse, and, having yoked their chariot, they approached the gods. The priests said, “Drink this water,” but then, “Or rather, drink this pressed soma.” If you Saudhanvanas desire such, then rejoice in the third pressing of the sacred drink. Among them, one asked for more water, another for more fire. One sought to distribute the vessel among many. Speaking rightly, they filled the vessels for the offering. One carried away water from the cow’s thigh; another cut flesh to feed the dog; and one alone removed the dung. The question arose: What, indeed, did the parents do for their sons? When the Ṛbhus led the offering out, they made grass for the people; when they brought it back, they provided water, with their own skill. Yet, what lies within the house of the mysterious one, the Ṛbhus were urged not to pursue that day. When they circled the worlds, closing in, where indeed did the parents sit or go? A curse fell upon the one who took the whole hand; and those who spoke out were called to speak forth. As the Ṛbhus slept, they wondered, “O mysterious one, who has awakened us?” The ram spoke to the dog, the awakener, saying, “This has been revealed today after a year.” By day, the Maruts roam; on earth, Agni burns bright; the wind moves through the midspace; Varuṇa travels with the waters and the oceans, all desiring the sons of strength. As the assembly gathered to honor the heroic deeds of the race-born steed, prayers rose: “May neither Mitra, nor Varuṇa, nor Aryaman, nor Indra, nor the Ribhukṣins, nor the Maruts find fault with us.” When the covering cloth was placed upon the gift—the horse taken from the mouth of the unyoked—the well-guided, all-shaped, beloved path of Indra and Pūṣan was set forth. A goat, as Pūṣan’s portion, was led before the swift horse for all the gods. As the sacrificial cake was beloved for the swift one, Tvaṣṭṛ urged it on for Sauśravas. At the proper time, men led the sacrificial horse three times around for the gods. The first portion of Pūṣan was given, and the goat announced the sacrifice to the gods. The Hotṛ, Adhvaryu, the fire-kindler, the stone-holder, and the wise praiser, through their well-ordered, well-offered sacrifice, filled their abodes. Those who prepared the yūpa posts, carried them, fashioned the horse’s yūpa, and gathered the cooking for the swift one—all were honored, and their praise was sought. Inspired thought was placed before the gods, as the wish approached, and the wise seers rejoiced in the horse, made a dear companion for the gods’ nourishment. Every halter, binding rope, head-rope, rein, and the grass placed in the horse’s mouth—all these were offered to the gods. Whatever flesh the flies touched, whatever was cut by knife or axe, whatever remained on the carver’s hands or under his nails—all these were given to the gods. Whatever from the belly was removed, whatever raw flesh smelled, the skilled carvers prepared, and cooked the well-boiled offering. Whatever dripped from the horse’s body, cooked by fire, after being struck, was not to fall on earth or grass, but given to the gods and the worthy. Those who saw the cooked steed, those who called for its fragrance, and those who sought a portion of its flesh—all were praised. Whatever dripped from the cooking pan, whatever vessels, strainers, pot covers, hooks, and butchers were used, all surrounded the horse. The horse’s stepping, sitting, turning, and all accomplished by its four feet; whatever it drank, ate, and consumed—all these were offered to the gods. Prayers were made: “Let not fire, smoky-scented and roaring, consume you; let not the shining blade strike you. The offering, prepared, purified, and marked with the vaṣaṭ-call, the gods accept as the horse.” When coverings, garments, and gold were spread for the horse, the beloved, swift-footed, four-footed one was sent to the gods. Whatever struck the horse—by spur or whip—was released by sacred utterance, just as the ladle touches the offering at rituals. Thirty-four ribs, divine bonds, the horse’s curved blade approached; skill was invoked to keep the limbs unbroken, the joints loosened, and the cut clean. The cutting by Tvaṣṭṛ was one; two guides and the season were named. What was prepared of the horse’s limbs according to the season was offered into the fire. Prayers continued: “Let not the dear heat burn you as you are united with your self; let not the blade rest upon your body; let not the careless cutter harm you; nor let the knife break your limbs or strike them together.” The horse was assured: “You do not die, nor are you harmed; you go to the gods by good paths. The bay mares, the spotted ones, are yoked for you; the steed stands at the yoke of the ass.” The steed was invoked to bring good cattle, good horses, sons, and all-nourishing wealth. Aditi was called upon to grant innocence, and the horse, bearing offerings, was asked to win sovereignty. At the horse’s birth, its first cry rose from the sea or waters. The wings of the eagle and the arms of the deer marked its praise-worthy greatness. Yama gave the horse, Trita strengthened it, and Indra was the first to mount it. The Gandharva took its reins, the Sun fashioned it, and the Vasus released it. The steed was recognized as Yama, Aditya, and Trita by secret vow. United with Soma, set apart, it was said to have three bonds in heaven. Three bonds were said to be in heaven, three in the waters, three within the ocean. Varuṇa’s favor was sought, where the horse’s highest origin was believed to be. Nine cleansings marked the steed; the marks of its hooves and places of strength were noted. Its good reins were seen, protected by the guardians of immortality. With mindful vision, the essence of the steed was approached, seen as a bird flying by day. Its head was seen moving with dust, as a winged one. The highest form of the steed was witnessed, striving for nourishment at the cow’s foot. When mortals, following its enjoyment, first grasped the herbs, they sought the steed. The chariot followed the steed, the young man followed, the cows and the lord of maidens followed. The hosts followed its friendship, and the gods measured its strength. Thus, through ritual, thought, and divine guidance, the horse was honored, its deeds celebrated, and its essence offered to the gods, fulfilling the sacred rites of old.