Listen further, all of good understanding; I tell what followed. The Lord of many names spent that night in the forest.
The hostile night passed, and a fine, beautiful morning came. He made himself ready to travel onward toward the north.
He was eager to see the Himalayas, holding great love for beholding its trees. After walking many days, he came first to the Kala (Black) mountain.
A vast mountain, with abundant trees, where the animals were beyond counting; no human beings were to be found there - he arrived alone in the midst of the forest.
Seeing the foot of the Kala mountain, dense and thickly wooded, where sunlight did not even penetrate, he made his dwelling there.
Where great and mighty mountains stood, and trees seemed to converse with the very universe; their flowers, leaves, roots and tubers - whoever ate them found joy.
Exceedingly sweet and tender fruits grew there, and pure water flowed in the rivers. Countless animals and birds wandered always in that forest.
Lions, tigers, wild boar, buffalo, elephants and rhinoceroses roared loudly; bears growled at one another, and among them the maned lion thundered.
Wild cattle and many nilgai roamed, herds of wild dogs and jackals moved about; wolves and monkeys played, and musk deer wandered here and there.
Where not a single human being was found, he wandered there entirely alone. The ground was hard and full of pebbles, yet he walked upon it with his tender feet.
He walked always among thorns and brambles, unafraid of ghosts, spirits, or demons. Possessed of the vision of the Self and great patience, of high spiritual state and keen intelligence,
free of pride and full of compassion, the protector of dharma wandered the forest. Whatever fruit or flower he found, he ate; otherwise he passed the day drinking only water.
If he found some root or tuber some days, he offered it to Hari and ate. He gave no thought at all to his household; the beautiful forest had become dear to him.
The story of Bharat (the sage-king who lived as a hermit) was upon his lips, and by it he remained happily detached from company. Thus, beholding the forest, the Lord of Life walked on to the hermitage of Pulaha.
"I desire greatly to practice austerity here; renunciation and detachment are dear to me." As he walked on and on, he lost his way, leaving the path and going astray.
Fixing his direction, the merciful one walked on, giving no thought to caring for his own body. Three days passed there in this way, with no water or fruit found at all.
On the fourth day his consciousness failed him, and his body fell to the ground. He remained unconscious for about two ghadis (roughly an hour), and then his life-breath revived.
Then, looking around on every side, he saw a river in the distance. He then went there slowly, and bathed in its waters.
Having performed his worship, he drank the water, and his thirst was quenched, bringing him relief. Nearby he saw a banyan tree, and he went and sat at its base.
There the day came to its end, and he performed the evening prayers (sandhya). He recited the Narayana mantra, and then, at that very time, Hanuman himself appeared.
A powerful youth in the guise of a young ascetic, Hanuman came and sat beneath the banyan tree. That night was the eve of Janmashtami, a night of great darkness.
The forest appeared dreadful and terrifying; nearby tigers roared. Monkeys cried out loudly in the darkness, and vetals (spirits) - male and female - danced about.
A great tumult arose in the forest; crickets and cicadas droned on. Thunder rumbled and the river roared; lightning flashed above like a hostile force.
Ghosts, spirits, demons and titans, yakshas, rakshasas and rakshasis, all such wicked beings roamed about there, visible in the flashes of lightning.
But Hari's mind held no fear of them, being unwavering in devotion to Krishna. Then a Bhairav (a fierce spirit-lord) came, together with all manner of ghosts and demons.
He had brought many dakinis, shakinis, and female demons, along with numerous bhairavis. His eyes were red, a trident in his hand; his form was hideous, the very root of sin.
Exceedingly tall and dark, like Death himself, his gaping mouth was huge and fearsome. With sharp fangs he had chewed animals and birds, and now he came having devoured human flesh.
With thousands upon thousands of lamps accompanying him, he came right up to the banyan tree. He made a sound like a donkey's braying, his whole body smeared with blood.
A great army of ghosts accompanied him, having killed and brought countless animals and birds. This banyan tree was his dwelling place; whoever came there met their destruction.
He had gone out to hunt for food, and now returned making his terrifying sound. Hearing it, the forest creatures fled, but Hanuman rose to face him.
Hanuman let out a monkey's battle-cry, and hearing it, the countless ghosts fled. The sound echoed in all ten directions, but Hari, though awake, felt no fear at all.
Then Bhairav grew exceedingly enraged and cried, "Come, all you ghosts and spirits! Devour this one at once - make an end of this youth and this child!
Drink the blood of these two, you rakshasis! Eat their flesh, you rakshasas! Strike them with my trident and destroy them!" Saying this, he advanced toward the Lord.
He commanded the ghosts and spirits: "Kill this monkey and eat him!" Then the great hero (Hanuman) roared, and his body grew as vast as a mountain.
Binding him with his tail, he drew him close and struck him with many blows of his feet. The wicked one suffered greatly, and, being evil-minded, fled in fear of death.
Then, recognizing Bhairav as the lord of the ghosts, Hanuman struck him with his fist upon the head. His neck was driven into his torso, and blood poured from his mouth and nose.
He fell flat upon the ground, like a mountain crashing down with a great roar. Then Bhairav thought: "If he strikes again, my body will not survive.
Now I must flee however I can" - so it felt unbearable to the wicked one. Thus was the battle between the monkey and Bhairav; Shyam sat watching, saying nothing at all,
concealing his own divine power, letting this deed be accomplished by another. In this way the night passed, and the last watch of the night remained.
Then the hour of dawn came, and the Lord bathed in the river. Having performed his prayers, he sat down, and Hanuman brought sweet fruits.
The Lord of Life ate on the fourth day, and said, "Blessed, blessed, Hanuman! You have well protected me; otherwise death would have come to me today.
Now, whenever I remember you, come to my aid." Then Hanuman laughed and said, "Blessed and mighty is the Lord God himself!
You are the great Death of Death itself - what protection can I give you? But, my Lord, whenever you remember me, I shall come to help."
Saying this, Hanuman departed, and the Lord went on toward the north. Then, wherever he stayed each night, he remained free of doubt and fear.
Whatever fruit, flower, grain, or water he found unsought, he ate that. Passing some days in this way, he crossed over the Kala mountain.
Ahead came the Shwetshikhar (White Peak), and Hari walked on, beholding it as he went. It reached up to touch the very sky, silvery, where no human being was to be found.
Within it were mines of the seven metals, and great caves. It appeared like a mountain fit for gods and ascetics to dwell in - such a beautiful mountain he beheld.
Seeing the foot of this immovable mountain, thickly wooded with many trees, where neither sun nor moon's light fell, where no path or ford could be found -
neither east nor west could be discerned, so dense was the forest and its creepers. In such a forbidding forest the brahmachari lost his way.
Having no path without direction, the king of ascetics walked on toward the north. There he came upon the blissful abode of the Ganga; he drank its water and rested there.
Thus in the Bhaktachintamani, composed by Nishkulanand Muni, disciple of Shri Sahajanand Swami, the establisher of the exclusive path of devotion, ends the twenty-eighth chapter, named "Shri Hari's Wandering in the Forest."