The third occasion of her offering worship takes place quite immediately after they reach the other bank of Yamuna. They left the forest on the bank of Yamuna and reached this gigantic banyan tree, "clothed with green leaves and (accordingly) bearing the name of Syama," says Valmiki. On seeing the giant-sized tree with its branches sprawling and covering a vast extent of land under its shade, Vaidehi is once again moved. Remember, they are entering the forest all alone. When did Sita move about without a retinue? At least Rama and Lakshmana were used to moving about alone. She is the daughter of Janaka, who loved her more than he did his own daughter, Urmila. She has been the darling of Ayodhya royalty as well as the people. The way people are moved to tears when she changes over to hermit's weeds is abundant proof, if proof were needed!
And for the first time in her life, she moves about in just the company of her husband, not denying the presence of Lakshmana. She is moved to reverence on seeing the Syama. "Nay, going very near the banyan tree, Sita (a princes of the Videha dynasty) bowed low to it and said, 'Hail to you, O gigantic tree! Let my husband conclude his vow (of forest life) and let us see (once more) mother Kausalya as well as the illustrious Sumitra. So saying and joining her palms, the high-minded Sita went round the banyan trees clock-wise." (Valmiki Ramayana, Ayodhya Kanda, Canto LV, Sloka 24 and 25)
The prayer is the same, as it always has been. 'Let my husband be able to conclude his vow. Let him not be assailed by events.' For the first time in these three occasions, Rama sees her and hears her praying. Like all of us, men, he stands there and watches - does not join her and partake in her prayer in going clock-wise around the banyan tree! He simply stands there, watching her and waiting till she completes her little rites. His mind is working on her safety and nothing else. In the very next Sloka we hear him instructing Lakshmana to take her with him, while he (Rama) follows them with his bow.
Why would she, the great princess of Mithila, the grand daughter-in-law of Ayodhya, be impelled to offer her worship to the river and to the tree and to every other thing that strikes awe in her? Of course, the worship at the Syama was a suggestion from sage Bharadwaja. What impelled her to pray again and again for the welfare of Rama? No. She is not afraid. She had nothing of that sort in her element. Fear was unknown to her. The occasions when she is shown as overcome by fear can be counted on the fingers on one hand. But they were situations of the extreme kind.
She stands up bold as a lioness under tortuous circumstances, where most of us, 'brave men' would have crumbled to the dust. More over, with the best of archers keeping vigil and protecting her, there was nothing to worry at all! But she is excited. That is apparent. Excited at the prospect of their sojourn in the company of each other, leading a pure and hermit's life. And impelled by feelings of care and concern born of the love that flowed out of her, always.
And this is the woman who takes an altogether different stance. She admonishes him gently. She cautions him against transgression of Dharma. She insists that once in jungle, he should adhere to the life of a sage and not that of a Kshatriya and describes the ways of the human psyche. The discussion may even shock men of small-mind, in whose life there is no place for a discussion with his wife, whose heart is so weak as not to take healthy criticism from his wife.