Hear, then, the tale of mighty Indra, as sung in the ancient hymns. In times of need, the people called upon Indra, the strong and fierce, seeking his help from all directions—whether near at hand, far away, or somewhere in between. They invoked every favor, every power that belonged to him, asking that he bring all these to bear in their struggle against Vṛtra, the great adversary, and with these, bestow rich rewards. Indra, undefeated in battle, was implored to drive away all who opposed, to shatter the wrath of their foes, and to scatter the hostile hosts, so that the Arya people might cross safely, free from the threat of the Dasyus. The people knew that whether enemies were kin or strangers, near or distant, the envious often joined together in opposition. Yet Indra, the breaker of strength, could strike down even the mightiest and turn them away. It was said that the strong conquer the strong by their own power, and Indra, acting with his own strength, made his presence felt among children, cattle, and offspring, even in the waters and in the fields, causing the two worlds to resound with his voice. No strong man, no swift or bold warrior, no one who considered himself mighty, had ever conquered Indra—he stood above all that were born, unmatched and unyielding. When the wise called upon him in the assembly, Indra’s power was manifest: foes fell on both sides, whether in the slaying of Vṛtra, in great battles, or in gatherings of men when divisions arose—he stretched apart those who opposed. And when Indra arrived, the peoples rejoiced, trusting him as their protector and guardian. The noble and truthful, the wise, placed their leaders in front, under Indra’s watchful care. All of Indra’s powers were given for his greatness; all his strength, might, and worship, especially in the slaying of Vṛtra, were his alone. With the gods, all his heroism was ever at hand. And so, the people prayed that Indra would bring them victory over their rivals in every contest, that the goddesses would be satisfied in their striving, and that, by Indra’s favor, the Bharadvājas would come to know wealth even now. Again, the people cried out: “Hear us, Indra! We call upon you, eager for the great prize of strength. When the peoples gather for the hero’s reward, grant us your protection this day.” Prize-seekers invoked Indra for victory and for the great, desirable rewards. In the battles with the Vṛtras, Indra was the true lord, the mighty one, and in the struggle for cattle, even the fist-fighter sought his aid. Indra inspired the poet in his quest for praise; for Kutsa, he struck down Śuṣṇa for the worshipper’s sake, and he struck off the head of the lifeless one, earning worthy deeds for Atithigva. He brought forth the chariot, the high warrior, and the fighting bull, Daśadyu, to battle. He aided Tugra for Vetasu and protected Tuji, the singer, from harm. With his strength, Indra saw the thousands of gifts offered in praise. He struck down the Dāsa Śambara from the mountain and brought splendid aid to Divodāsa. Delighting in faith and the pressed Soma, Indra destroyed Cumuri for the people’s safety, shattered Raji, and struck down sixty thousand together with his power. The wise prayed to attain Indra’s favor, seeking his greater benevolence and strength, for those who praised him received triple protection from the most mighty descendant of Nahusha. In their invocation for glory, the people wished to be Indra’s friends, honored by his greatness. They prayed that Prātardana might possess the best royal splendor, be foremost in battle, and win wealth among the Vṛtras. They wondered at Indra’s deeds: “What has Indra done for the joy of this drink, for the drinking, for friendship? Did those who sit in council or battle know him before, or only now?” For the joy of the drink, for friendship, Indra acted—whether in council or in battle, those who sat with him wondered at his greatness, old and new, for none had seen the limit of his power. Indra’s power was renowned: by it, he slew the remnant of Varaśikha, splitting even the farthest part with the mighty sound of his thunderbolt. Pursuing the returning and resisting, he struck down the remnant of Varaśikha at Hariyūpīyā for Vṛcīvant, instilling fear in the foremost. At Yavyāvat, three hundred armored Vṛcīvants fell under the arrow, their bowls broken, coming to rest. For Sṛñjaya, Indra gave Turvaśa away, and for Vṛcīvant, striving for Daivavāta, he granted victory. Twice twenty chariot-fighters with cows and brides, the generous lord gave, the sovereign’s gift—a southern share from the Parthavas. The cows, bringers of good fortune, came and settled in the stable, bellowing for the people. They were fruitful, of many forms, yielding abundant milk for Indra at every dawn. Indra provided for the sacrificer and the generous, ever increasing their wealth and placing god-loved treasure in their stores. The cows were safe from thieves and enemies, worshipped by the gods, and with them, the lord of cattle prospered. No predator, near or far, could reach them, nor did they fall into the hands of those who set traps. They followed the wide-ranging, fearless one—the sacrificing mortal whose cows roamed freely. Cows were fortune, cows were Indra, the first portion of Soma; with heart and mind, the people desired Indra as they desired these cows. The cows made even the thin one thrive, the unlovely one handsome; they brought auspiciousness to the home, their voices and fame resounding in gatherings. Full of offspring, grazing rich pastures, drinking pure waters, may neither thief nor evil-wisher rule over them, may they avoid the weapon of Rudra. Offerings were made among the cows, and inquiries placed among them, in the seed of the bull and Indra’s strength. For friendship, men chose Indra—the great one who delighted in them and came for their favor. He was a great giver, wielder of the bolt; thus, they sacrificed to the mighty one for help. In his hands were golden chariots, eager for deeds, with strong reins and mighty stallions yoked. Indra’s feet, eager for splendor, were bold and skillful; wearing a fragrant garment, golden and pleasing to behold, he became the leader of men. Soma was pressed, the meal cooked, the grains present, as men praised Indra, inspired by the gods. There was no end to Indra’s might—his greatness not confined by heaven and earth. The sun filled both, moving swiftly, like a leader assembling troops in the waters. Indra, easily invoked and exalted, praised and unpraised, with tawny beard and unequaled strength, slew many foes and cast down the Dasyus. Ever more, Indra grew in strength. Alone, undecaying, he dispensed treasures, expanding over heaven and earth, taking half of both worlds for himself. Thus, the hymns tell of Indra—his power, his gifts, his guardianship, and his ever-unmatched might.