Hear now the tale of Indra, the mighty one, as sung in the ancient hymns. His divine sisters, the Hariva, once raised their voices in praise, invoking Indra’s help. When they loosened their bonds, a great outpouring flowed forth, streaming long and free. Indra, delighted by the invigorating soma that rushes like a river, claimed for himself the power that brings joy. For the worshippers, the bright ray of the shining cow, swift and strong, drew near. “O Indra, make us abundant, the greatest in heroic deeds,” they prayed. “May we always be victorious. For us, destroy the slayers, break all barriers, and strike down the enemies of mortals.” The people called out, “Hear us, Indra, in our striving! Grant us splendid prizes and let all nourishing gifts and treasures come our way. Be mindful, O Maghavan, of our cows.” Now, as Indra was praised and hymns were sung, the people asked for sustenance, as rivers fill the land. For Indra, the Hariva composed a new hymn, wishing always to be wise charioteers. They wondered at Indra’s greatness: “How did the mighty one grow, whose priest, accepting the sacrifice, approached the soma? Drinking, desiring, accepting the offering, the lofty one advanced, pure and seeking wealth.” They questioned, “Who is the hero who has joined Indra’s fellowship, who has shared in his favor? Who has discerned his wondrous acts and become great among the praiseworthy?” “How does Indra hear those who invoke him? How does he know the new song? What are his many forms of protection, and how do they speak of him to the worshipper?” they asked. “How does one, striving, not lose his wealth but shine forth in pursuit of riches? Let the god, upholder of truth, become knowing, delighting in the offering.” They pondered, “How did the god delight in the friendship of a mortal at dawn? How did he show friendship to his companions who sought fulfillment in him?” They sought to know the nature of this intimate friendship: “When shall we truly declare your brotherhood, Indra? For splendor, your form is well-shaped, your creations brilliant, shining like the light of the cow.” Desiring to slay the deceiver, Indra sharpened his fierce weapons; even those bound by debt were not treated harshly, and the unknown ones were repelled at dawn. For the sake of truth, many are attentive; the thought of truth destroys wrongs. Truth’s proclamation pierced even the deaf, awakening the pure. The firm foundations of truth are many, shining, and wondrous. By truth, the nourishing streams flow; by truth, the cows enter into truth. He who follows truth alone wins truth; the strength of truth is victorious in the contest for cows. For truth, the earth is broad and deep; for truth, the cows are milked in the highest abode. Again, Indra was praised: “May you grant nourishment to the worshipper, like rivers. For you, wielder of the bay steeds, a new hymn has been composed; with thought, may we always be chariot-borne.” The singers wondered, “What praise has turned toward Indra, the mighty son, bringing him near with bounty? For the hero gives riches to the singer and does not drive our people away.” Indra is to be invoked and praised, especially in the slaying of Vṛtra. Generous, he comes to the aid of mortals and makes a wide path for the worshipper’s song. In the assemblies, men call upon him, striving for strength and offspring. The peoples, strong and eager, contest for abundance, and when the clans unite, they call upon Indra. Then, his power is worshipped, the offerings prepared, the sacrificial cake spread, and soma pressed. The eager pour out their libations, delighting in the bull of the sacrifice. Indra makes a path for those who press and offer soma. With united minds, they come together, and he becomes their companion in battles. Whoever today presses soma, cooks the offering, or roasts the grains for Indra, to him the thoughts and wide paths are directed; in him, Indra places his strength. When the mighty one divided Samarya and declared the contest to the Arya, he called forth his manly strength into his household, with those who press soma. Even the lesser one, though moving about with greater wealth, was not bought again when he returned; though lesser, he was not diminished much. The poor and skillful milk forth their speech. “Who will buy my Indra with ten cows, when he has struck down the foes? Let him then give him back to me.” Again, Indra was praised: “May you pour forth wealth for the worshipper, as rivers do. For you, wielder of the bay steeds, a new hymn has been composed; with insight may we always be chariot-borne.” The people asked, “Who today, desiring the gods, has delighted in Indra’s friendship? Who seeks great help for protection, who prays with pressed soma at the kindled fire?” Who will proclaim with speech for soma, who will befriend the mindful, who seeks Indra’s kinship and aid? Who today chooses the help of the gods, who seeks the light of Aditi among the Ādityas? For whom do the Aśvins, Indra, Agni, and the portion of soma drink together with one mind? For such a one, Agni grants protection, so that he may see the rising sun clearly—he who says, “Let us press soma for Indra,” for the heroic and best of men. Many do not surpass him, nor do the few; for him, wide Aditi grants protection. Dear to the good-doer and to Indra is the mindful one, the well-guided, the soma-presser. The well-guided, swift, and strong man quickly prepares Indra’s portion. For the ill-guided, there is neither helper, friend, nor kinsman; voiceless, he is carried away. Indra, the soma-drinker, does not befriend the wealthy Paṇi or those who do not press soma. His knowledge grieves, he strikes the naked one; for the well-guided, he alone prepares the portion. Indra is invoked by those before, after, and in the middle; those seeking help, those dwelling, and those fighting call upon Indra; all who seek victory invoke him. Then, the voice of Indra himself is heard: “I am Manu, I am Sūrya. I am Kakṣīvat, the inspired sage. I have guided Kutsa, son of Arjuna; I am the poet, Uśanā—look upon me. I gave the earth to the Arya; I gave rain to the worshipping mortal. I led forth the eager waters; the gods followed my guidance.” “I destroyed the cities of the arrogant, and with them ninety of Śambara’s strongholds; I overthrew the hundredth, all for Divodāsa and Atithigva. Let the hero’s strength go forth for the Maruts; let the falcon, swiftest of all, fly. When the eagle, by its own power, brought the beloved offering to Manu, the gods rejoiced. If the strong and wise one brings the offering, let him carry it on the broad path, swift as thought. He went with your honey, O Soma; here the falcon found fame.” Thus, the hymns recount the glory, generosity, and truth of Indra, the mighty one who delights in soma, who brings abundance, who upholds truth, and who is ever the companion of the wise and the worshipful.