With a single talon, the mighty Garuḍa seized a great elephant, and with another, he grasped a powerful tortoise. Swift as the wind, this king of birds soared high into the sky, carrying his heavy prey aloft. Rising ever higher, Garuḍa approached the celestial realm where the divine trees grew. As he passed, the tremendous force of his wings sent a fearful tremor through those wish-fulfilling trees with golden branches and gently swaying limbs. The trees, beholding the approaching Garuḍa, thought anxiously among themselves, “Let us not be broken.” Undeterred, Garuḍa flew onward to other wondrous trees, each of incomparable form, their branches laden with fruits of gold, silver, and beryl. These majestic trees, shining with brilliance, stood encircled by the vast waters of the ocean. Among them was the most magnificent of all—a tree a thousand yojanas tall, spreading many branches wide. This was the sacred Rauhina tree, the divine abode of countless birds, and it was said that whoever found rest in its shade would be instantly content. As Garuḍa rushed toward this mighty tree with tremendous force, the Rauhina tree itself spoke to him, recognizing the best of birds: “This great branch of mine, a hundred yojanas long—rest upon it and eat the elephant and tortoise you carry.” Heeding these words, Garuḍa, swift and powerful as a mountain, shook the Rauhina tree, which was home to thousands of birds, and quickly broke off the great branch with its dense mass of leaves. With the strength of his talons, Garuḍa snapped the branch cleanly from the tree and held it firmly. As he did so, he looked around with a gentle smile and noticed the Valakhilya sages—ascetic Brahmarshis—hanging upside down from the very branch he had just broken. Seeing these revered sages, Garuḍa thought, “The sages are here; I must not harm them.” Yet, mindful of his prey, he resolved, “I will kill the elephant and tortoise as they fall,” and gripped them tightly with his strong claws. Fearing for the safety of the sages, Garuḍa leapt swiftly and, with great care, seized the branch in his mouth, making sure not to harm the holy ascetics. Witnessing this extraordinary feat, which surpassed ordinary power, the great sages were astonished, their hearts trembling in awe as they spoke of Garuḍa’s might. Bearing this heavy burden, Garuḍa, the foremost of birds and devourer of serpents, soared through the skies. He flew slowly, his mighty wings shaking the very mountains, as he traveled across many lands, carrying the elephant and tortoise. Out of compassion for the Valakhilya sages, Garuḍa sought a suitable place to set them down, but finding none, he sped toward Gandhamādana, the greatest of mountains. There, Garuḍa beheld his father, the sage Kaśyapa, deep in austerity, and Kaśyapa in turn saw his divine-formed son. Garuḍa shone with brilliance, strength, and power; swift as the mind and the wind, he resembled a mountain peak or the uplifted staff of Brahma himself. His form was unthinkable, indescribable, and terrifying to all beings—fierce as fire blazing before one’s eyes, unassailable and unconquerable by gods, demons, or rākṣasas, destroyer of mountain peaks, and one who could dry up the ocean’s waters. He moved dreadfully through the worlds, resembling Death itself. Recognizing his son’s intent, the venerable Kaśyapa spoke, “My son, do not act rashly; do not bring suffering upon yourself. Let not the anger of the Valakhilyas and the Marīcis consume you.” Out of love for Garuḍa, Kaśyapa sought to appease the illustrious Valakhilya sages, purified by their austerity. “For the welfare of all creatures, Garuḍa wishes to accomplish a great deed. O ascetics, grant him your permission.” Thus addressed by the venerable Kaśyapa, the sages departed, leaving the branch behind, and journeyed to the sacred Himavat mountain to continue their austerities. When the sages had gone, Garuḍa, his vision still partly blocked by the massive branch, turned to his father and respectfully asked, “Lord, where shall I release this branch? Please tell me of a place devoid of humans.” Kaśyapa directed him to a mountain without people, its caves sealed by snow, inaccessible even to thought. Aiming for this remote and vast mountain, Garuḍa, swift as thought, flew there, still carrying the great branch along with the elephant and tortoise. No strong man could have lifted such a branch, nor the hide of that immense animal, but Garuḍa bore them all with ease as he soared through the sky. Traveling a hundred thousand yojanas in a short time, Garuḍa soon arrived at the mountain his father had described. There, he released the great branch with a mighty crash. The wind from his wings made the king of mountains tremble, and as the trees collided, a rain of flowers fell all around. The peaks of that mountain shattered, adorned with gems and gold, lending further beauty to the great mountain. Many trees struck by the falling branch gleamed with golden blossoms, like clouds lit by lightning. The trees, now blooming with gold and mingled with the mountain’s minerals, shone brilliantly, touched by the rays of the sun. Then, Garuḍa, lord of birds, settled atop the mountain peak and began to eat both the elephant and the tortoise. Having devoured his meal, the swift Tārkṣya leapt up once more from the summit, ready for his next great deed.