Sugriva now fled in dismay (and returned to Rama); the blow from Bali’s clenched first had fallen on him like a thunderbolt. ‘Did I not tell you, O merciful Raghubira,’ he cried, ‘that he is no brother of mine but Death himself?’

‘You two brothers are so much alike,’ said Rama, ‘that for fear of mistake I did not shoot him.’ He stroked Sugriva’s body with his hand and lo ! it became as hard as a thunderbolt and he felt no more pain.

He cast about his neck a wreath of flowers and arming him with irresistible strength, sent him back once more. Again the battle raged, while Raghunatha watched them from behind a tree.

Sugriva tried many a trick, but at last he lost heart and felt much alarmed. Then Rama drew his bow and struck Bali in the heart.

Struck by the shaft, Bali fell to the ground smarting with pain; but when he saw the Lord before him, he sat up. There stood before him the Lord himself, dark of hue, with his matted hair coiled on his head, dawn-bright eyes and the bow still drawn.

Gazing on him again and again, Bali laid his heart at his feet; now that he recognized the Lord he accounted his life blessed. Though there was devotion in his heart, the words on his lips were harsh; looking towards Rama he said.

‘Though, my Lord, you have become incarnate for upholding righteousness, you have shot me like some huntsman! Am I your adversary and Sugriva your friend? For what fault, Lord, did you take my life?’