The fearsome monkeys and bears would lay hold of the mountain crags and hurl them at the fort. Darting against their foemen, they would catch them by the feet and dash them to the ground, and then would run off and again challenge them to the combat. Very agile, young and dignified, the monkeys and bears lightly leapt up on the fort and bounding up everywhere on the palaces, sang the praises of Rama.

Again, each catching hold of a demon, the monkeys rushed back and then dropped to the ground with the demon foe beneath and themselves on the top.

By the power of Rama, the strong monkey host crushed the ranks of the demon warriors. They then mounted the fort here and there and made it resound with shouts of glory to Raghubira, majestic as the sun.

The demon host fled like a mass of clouds driven by a mighty wind and the city burst into wails and howls; children, invalids and women wept distressfully.

All joined in abusing Ravana, who, king though he was, had invited death. When he heard that his troops were routed, Ravana rallied his champions in a rage.

‘If I hear of anyone turning his back on the battlefield,’ he shouted, ‘I will slay him with my own dread sword. After devouring all my substance and enjoying every luxury, you now on the field of battle grudge to give your lives!’

On hearing these stern words, the champions were all alarmed and ashamed; they marched against the enemy in great fury. To die with one’s face to the foe is the glory of a warrior, they thought; and they were then no longer eager to lay great store by their lives.