The Maruts, the sons of red Rudra, were the spirits of tempest and thunder. To each of their chariots were yoked two spotted deer and one swift-footed, never-wearying red deer as leader. They were stalwart and courageous youths, “full of terrible designs like to giants”; on their heads were golden helmets and they had golden breastplates, and wore bright skins on their shoulders; their ankles and arms were decked with golden bracelets. The Maruts were always strongly armed with bows and arrows and axes, and especially with gleaming spears. All beings feared those “cloud shakers” when they hastened forth with their lightning spears which “shattered cattle like the thunderstone”; they were wont to cleave cloud-rocks and drench the earth with quickening showers.
When Indra drove forth to attack the Drought Demon, the “hastening Maruts” followed him, shouting with loud voices: in “a shower” were the Maruts “let loose”; they dashed towards the imprisoned cows of the clouds and “chased them aloft”.
The dragon Vritra roared when Indra drew nigh; whereat heaven shook and the gods retreated. Mother Earth, the goddess Prithivi (prit´hi-vee), was troubled regarding her golden son. But Indra advanced boldly with the roaring Maruts; he was inspired by the hymns of the priests; he had drunken deeply of Soma; he was strengthened by the sacrifices offered on earth's altars; and he wielded the thunderstone.
The Drought Demon deemed itself invulnerable, but Indra cast his weapon and soon discovered the vulnerable parts of its writhing body. He slew the monster; it lay prone before him; the torrents burst forth and carried it away to the sea of eternal darkness. Then Indra rejoiced and cried out:
I have slain Vritra, O ye hast'ning Maruts;
I have grown mighty through my own great vigour;
I am the hurler of the bolt of Thunder—
For man flow freely now the gleaming waters.
On earth the worshippers of the god were made glad; the Rishi hymned his praises:
I will extol the manly deeds of Indra:
The first was when the Thunder stone he wielded
And smote the Dragon; he released the waters,
He oped the channels of the breasted mountains.
He smote the dragon Vritra in its fortress—
Twashtri had shaped for him the thunder weapon—
Then rushing freely like to bellowing cattle
The gladsome waters to the sea descended.
Bull-spirited did Indra choose the Soma,
He drank its juices from the triple ladles;
Then clutched the Bounteous One his thunder weapon,
And fiercely smote the first-born of the Dragons.
The smitten monster fell amidst the torrents,
That pause nor stay, for ever surging onward;
Then Vritra covered by the joyful billows
Was carried to the darksome deeps of Ocean.