He rushed within his leafy cot;
He sought his wife, but found her not.
Then, then the hero's senses failed;
In mad despair he wept and wailed.
Upon the pile that bird he laid,
And still in quest of Sita strayed.
A hideous giant then he saw,
Kabandha named, a shape of awe.
The monstrous fiend he smote and slew,
And in the flame the body threw;
When straight from out the funeral flame
In lovely form Kabandha came,
And bade him seek in his distress
A wise and holy hermitess.
By counsel of this saintly dame
To Pampa's pleasant flood he came,
And there the steadfast friendship won
Of Hanuman the Wind-God's son.
Counselled by him he told his grief
To great Sugriva, Vanar chief,
Who, knowing all the tale, before
The sacred flame alliance swore.
Sugriva to his new-found friend
Told his own story to the end:--
His hate of Bali for the wrong
And insult he had borne so long.
And Rama lent a willing ear
And promised to allay his fear.
Sugriva warned him of the might
Of Bali, matchless in the fight,
And, credence for his tale to gain,
Showed the huge fiend by Bali slain.
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