The sacrifice commenced, its sacred fire sending fragrant smoke upward toward the heavens. In this solemn moment, the worshipper invoked Indra, yearning for a kinship with the mighty god: “As I am, so may you be, Indra. May I alone possess the wealth, and may my praiser be a friend of cows.” The call went out for all who praise to gather swiftly, one after another, drawn by the intoxicating Soma, to honor the hero and champion. “Drink, O benefactor,” the worshipper entreated, “this pressed Soma from the brimming vessel. May no harm befall you here.” The glorious bull, renowned for his generosity, rose in splendor; even the Sun departed for his appointed path. The worshippers acknowledged Indra’s sovereignty: “O slayer of Vṛtra, whatever you have brought forth today with the Sun is under your control.” They remembered Indra’s wisdom and friendship, recalling how he brought Turvasha and Yadu from afar, and prayed, “May Indra be our youthful friend. Let no direction be hostile; with you as our ally, may we triumph in today’s light.” Indra was invoked for abundant, ever-victorious, and generous wealth, to secure prosperity. Again and again, they called upon mighty Indra, wielder of the thunderbolt, seeking great riches, youthful vigor, and victory in battle. They recalled how Indra of a thousand arms drank the pressed Soma of the Kadruvas, gaining his manly strength there. With devotion, they praised him: “We, your worshippers, praise you, mighty one. Know us as yours, generous lord.” Those who kindled the sacrificial fire and spread the sacred grass found in Indra a youthful friend. The worshippers pleaded, “Shatter our haters, drive away obstacles, strike down our foes, and bring us that desirable wealth.” The sound of whips echoed as splendid teams, adorned and ready, were driven forth. The friends who offered Soma looked to Indra, nourishing as cattle to their owner. All peoples bowed before the wrath of the mighty one, as rivers flow to the ocean. The greatness of the gods was chosen for aid, so that strength might come. “Brahmanaspati, make the Soma’s sound resound, as Kakṣīvant, son of Uśij, did before us.” The worshippers sought the presence of the slayer of Vṛtra, praying that Śakra would hear and grant abundant aid. They turned to divine Savitar, asking for offspring, good fortune, and the banishment of evil dreams. They wondered at the youthful, unyielding bull with the mighty neck, asking who, as priest, worshipped him. At the foot of the mountains, where rivers meet, an inspired sage was born through thought. With new songs, they praised Indra, king of peoples, the subduer of men, the most mighty. The second half of their verse was dedicated to Indra—the swift drinker of Soma, skillful, mighty, and barley-bearded. “To you, O possessor of many treasures, these songs are sent forth like cows to their calf, O Indra.” They followed the name of the cow, the hidden one of Tvaṣṭṛ, thus, in the house of the moon. They recalled when Indra, unhonored, led forth the great, powerful waters, and Pūṣan became his companion. The cow, famed among the Maruts and mother of the generous, was yoked as fire to the chariots. “Come to us with your bays, Lord of delights, come with your bays to the pressed Soma.” The desired offerings flowed, strengthening Indra at the sacrifice and leading towards the Avabhṛtha. The worshipper declared, “I have taken the wisdom of the immortal from my father; I was born like the sun.” They prayed that abundant, mighty gatherings would be with them in Indra, so that with strength they might rejoice. Soma and Pūṣan perceived all prosperous dwellings; for the gods, the two chariots were prepared. “Sing to Indra for the Soma drink,” the all-conquering one proclaimed, “I, most mighty among men, praise the hundred-powered.” Friends were called to sing to Indra, the exhilarator, tawny-horsed, Soma-drinker. The Kanvas, friends of Indra, approached him with joy and hymns. Their songs resounded around the pressed Soma for Indra, the joyous, as poets praised him with hymns. The Soma, purified for Indra, rested on the sacred grass, inviting him to drink its flowing essence. Finally, they offered for the granting of beautiful forms, as one milks a cow rich in milk, to the ever-shining one, Indra.