In the ancient dawn, when the world was young and the earth stretched broad beneath the gaze of the gods, the immortal, self-moving spirit of divinity stirred. The cows, born of truth, upheld the earth itself, and all the gods gathered, drawn to the sacred sacrifice. At the call of the mighty Bull, they milked the heavenly ghee, the nectar of immortality, pouring it forth to bless the world. In reverence, the seers lifted their voices, praising the waters anointed with ghee, invoking both heaven and earth to listen. They called upon the two worlds, recalling the time when the heavens shaped the path of life, wishing that their forefathers might be refreshed with the sweetness of honey in the hereafter. Yet, in their searching, questions arose: What king holds sway over us? When will he appear? What law have we truly set? Even Mitra, who offers hymns to the gods, cannot always reach their heights—perhaps there is a lack of strength among men. The name of the immortal is veiled and marked with signs, elusive as it takes many forms. For those who think kindly of Yama, the lord of death, Agni—the swift one—offers his protection, shielding them from misfortune. Within the assembly, where the gods rejoice, in the house of Vivasvat, they are sustained. The gods set the light in the sun, distributing its brilliance, shining ever as they move through the heavens. The gods move in thought within the one whose nature remains unknown to mortals. Mitra, Aryaman, and the sinless Savitar speak with Varuna, their words a mystery to humankind. Agni is called upon to hear from his dwelling and assembly, to yoke the swift chariot of immortality, and to bring the two worlds, children of the gods, close—so that mortals may never be far from the divine. With devotion, the ancient hymn is joined with praise, sent forth like a path for the sun. All the sons of immortality are called to listen—all who dwell in the divine abodes. Just as Yama, the first mortal, strove and journeyed forth, so do the worshippers, longing for the gods, bring their offerings. They are bid to sit content in their own world, at ease, like those who approach Indra. The seeker follows the five steps of the form, seeking the four-footed by vow, measuring with the imperishable syllable up to the navel of immortality, purifying all together in the sacred act. Questions linger: For whom did Yama choose death among the gods, and for whom did he not choose immortality for offspring? Bṛhaspati was made the priest of sacrifice, and Yama longed for his beloved form. Seven streams flow for the child of the Maruts; the sons protect the true father. Both—the fathers and the sons—rule, strive, and prosper together in both worlds. The tale turns to those who have departed, journeying along the great slopes, the well-worn path trodden by many, to the gathering place of the people with Vaivasvata, to King Yama himself. These souls are honored with offerings. Yama was the first to discover the way for mortals; he found the pasture that cannot be taken away. There, the ancestors have gone before, each following their own righteous path. Mātalī with the wise, Yama with the Angiras, and Bṛhaspati with the singers have grown strong, as have those gods who prosper and delight in oblations and offerings. Yama is invited to sit upon the sacred seat with the Angiras and the assembled ancestors, to be carried by the chants of the wise, and to rejoice in the offerings made to him. He is called to come with the Angiras and the worthy ones, to delight with the radiant souls. Vivasvat, Yama’s father, is invoked, sitting upon the sacrificial grass, to witness the rite. The Angiras, the Navagvas, the Atharvans, the Bhṛgus—ancestors full of Soma—are remembered. May the living remain in their good favor and blessed harmony. The departed are guided to go forth along the ancient paths trodden by their ancestors, where both kings rejoice in offerings—Yama and Varuṇa, the divine. They are urged to go together with the ancestors, with Yama, with fulfilled sacrifices and good deeds, to the highest heaven. Leaving behind all faults, they are bidden to return to their home, radiant in form. The living are told to depart and move away, for the ancestors have made this world for the departed. By days, by waters, by nights, Yama grants the soul a resting place. The journey continues past the two Sārameya dogs of Yama—four-eyed, spotted guardians—who watch the good path. Beyond them, the soul approaches the ancestors, who rejoice with Yama. These two dogs of Yama, vigilant and all-seeing, surround the soul, granting safety and protection from disease. Wide-nosed and eager for drink, the Udumbala trees, messengers of Yama, wander among people. May they grant sight of the sun again, and bestow good fortune in the world of the living. Soma is pressed for Yama, and oblations offered to him; the sacrifice is sent to Yama, with Agni as the messenger, carefully arranged. Clarified butter is offered to Yama, in hopes that he will grant long life among the gods for those who live well. The sweetest offering is presented to Yama the king, in homage to the sages and ancestors who forged the paths before. With the Trikadrukas, six broad ones, the great offering flies; the Triṣṭubh and Gāyatrī meters are established for Yama. Let the ancestors rise up—those below, above, and in the middle—those full of Soma, departed and unharmed, knowing truth. May these ancestors protect the offerings. Homage is paid to the ancestors today—those who went before, who have departed, who dwell in the earthly region and among the well-born in the villages. The forefathers, bestowers of blessings, and the strides of Vishnu are called upon. Those who sit on the sacred grass and partake of the pressed Soma by their own power are invited to this offering. Ancestors seated on the sacred grass are welcomed to accept the prepared offerings, to come with help and peace, and to bestow blessings free from harm. The summoned ancestors, delighting in Soma and dwelling in beloved seats, are called to come, to listen, to speak, and to protect the living. Sitting to the south, bending the right knee, the ancestors are asked to accept the sacrifice, and not to harm the living for any human error committed. Seated in the lap of the dawns, the ancestors are asked to grant wealth to the worshipper and strength to his sons. Those ancestors who first approached the Soma feast—the Vasiṣṭhas—are remembered. May Yama, rejoicing with them, accept the offerings, and may they partake as they wish. Those who thirsted among the gods, striving, skilled in rites and hymns, are called forth by Agni—the true ancestors, the seers—to sit at the offering. Agni is asked to bring those true ones who receive the offerings, who share the chariot with Indra and the gods, to the sacrifice—ancestors praised by the gods, both distant and former. Ancestors consumed by Agni are invited to come, to sit in every seat, to partake of the devoted offerings, and to bestow heroic wealth. Agni, invoked and knower of all births, has brought the fragrant offerings and presented them to the ancestors, who have eaten by their own power. Thus, Agni, the god, accepts the offerings made with devotion, linking mortals and immortals in the eternal cycle of sacrifice and blessing.