The sons, filled with devotion, raised their voices in song, letting their praises resound to the farthest reaches as they performed their sacred sacrifices. The strong ones, famed among men, answered this call and came forth for the holy journey. In that ancient time, Vishnu, the Preserver, strode wide across the worlds, placing his foot three times upon the earth, each step firmly set in the dust, marking the boundaries of creation. Moved by their spirit, the worshippers invited the gods to come, to raise up the well-pressed Soma, that potent offering, and to drink deeply of its essence in the midst of these gifts. They wondered aloud: what word, what utterance, is truly worthy of praise for the wise and for the great god? That word alone belongs to him. Yet, in the midst of their offerings, neither the hymn being praised nor the wealth being given was truly noticed; the song itself, though sung, seemed to pass by unperceived. But Indra, the mighty, the lord of prizes, found his greatest delight in hymns. He, the companion of those who press the Soma, rode upon his tawny steeds. The worshippers called to him: “Come to us, approach our Soma, and bring us your prizes. Do not turn away, O mighty youth, but accept our offering.” With longing, they asked, “When, O gracious one, will our hymn, offered in praise, truly please you? Come to us, O Rudhadvāh, for the Soma we have pressed so long, and grant us refreshment.” They entreated Indra to drink the Soma for the Brahman’s generosity, to follow the seasons in his coming, for his friendship was unbroken and ever faithful. “We are your singers, Indra, lovers of song,” they declared. “You, who delight in Soma, conquer for us.” They prayed: “Indra, place heroism within our bodies, even among the clans; grant us the mighty strength of Satrājit.” They praised him as a champion, strong and heroic, whose mind was ever ready to give. Their adoration rose like the lowing of cows for the unmilked one, calling out to Indra, lord of the moving and the steadfast, seer of the sun. “We invoke you, Indra, leader of the people, for the prize. In battles, you are the true lord; men at the ends of the earth call upon you, O possessor of the sun.” “Now, let us praise Indra, bestower of divine gifts, as is fitting—renowned among singers, generous Maghavan, who grants wealth by the thousands. We call to that mighty, unfailing Indra, delight of the generous, bringer of joy. Let us praise him with our songs, as cows call to their calf in the stalls.” They called out for help in distress: “With our songs we seek Indra, giver of wealth. Loudly we sing at the Soma-pressing, calling the supporter, as a worker calls for his wage.” The swift one, striving for the prize, was yoked with Purandhi; the worshipper bowed to Indra, much-invoked, with a song strong and steady as a well-shaped wheel. “Drink of the pressed, exhilarating Soma,” they invited, “delight in it, O Indra rich in cattle. Be our ally at the shared feast; may your thoughts protect and strengthen us.” They implored: “Come here, indeed, for friendship. Grant us a share of wealth. Rise up, Maghavan, for the winning of cows, rise, Indra, for the gaining of horses.” Their confidence was unwavering: “Neither the last nor the foremost, nor even Vasiṣṭha himself, can surpass us. Today, Maruts, at the Soma-pressing, let all who desire drink together.” They urged one another, “Speak nothing else, friends; do not go astray. Praise only Indra, the mighty, at the Soma-pressing—again and again, sing his praises.” In their devotion, they proclaimed, “Neither the third nor the second part of the work is lost; Indra has accomplished all, ever-growing and unconquered, famed everywhere by sacrifices and strong with might.” They remembered, “He alone, even without others, was the supporter before, who gave strength to our limbs—Maghavan, the generous, the joiner and restorer, who brings back what was lost.” To Indra, they sent their offerings: “Let a thousand and a hundred golden-yoked, long-maned steeds, yoked by prayer, bring you on the chariot for the drinking of Soma. Come, Indra, with your splendid, peacock-maned bays; let none restrain you, not even those with snares—come straight here, as an arrow flies.” “You alone, indeed, are praised, O god most mighty, among mortals. There is no other helper like you, Maghavan—Indra, I speak these words to you. You, Indra, are the lord of glory, the master of strength; you alone slay all adversaries, ever the foremost, upholding the people with unmatched power.” At every sacrifice, in every gathering, they called to Indra—for the winning of wealth, for blessings—offering their invocations to the god. “These songs, O generous one, these bright, pure, and wise hymns of mine, have reached you, shining with praise. Those most honeyed songs, those hymns, rise up like victorious, ever-flowing chariots, bringing wealth to the one who wins the prize.” “As a thirsty bull seeks out water, so come to us, O Indra, for our friendship and for our ancestors—join the Kanvas, drink with us.” They prayed, “O Indra, Lord of Strength, with all your aids, may we move with you, O renowned one, as with Bhaga, you who know the wealth.” “O Indra, bring us the might that conquers foes, O Maghavan, for the singer and for those who offer with sacred grass to you, the radiant one.” They remembered also to honor the other deities: “Sing forth a worthy hymn to Mitra, to noble Aryaman, to Varuna of steadfast laws, and to the royal ones—a song of praise among kings.” To Indra, the ancient drinkers had sung with hymns; the Ribhus, united, had chanted, and the Rudras praised his ancient might. The Maruts, too, were called to sing forth their praise to mighty Indra; their hymn resounded for the slayer of Vṛtra, the one of a hundred powers, who strikes down the foe with his hundred-jointed thunderbolt. “Sing loudly to great Indra, O Maruts, the most powerful slayer of Vṛtra, by whom the gods, lovers of truth, awakened the light for the god.” They prayed, “Indra, bring us wisdom as a father gives to his sons; teach us, O much-invoked one, so that in this dwelling we may attain living light.” “Indra, do not turn away from us; be with us at the shared feast. You are our aid, you are our refuge; O Indra, do not turn away from us.” Thus, with unceasing praise and heartfelt longing, the worshippers called upon Indra, seeking his presence, his strength, and his unfailing friendship.