at battle, he despatched a
single elephant like hill riven by the thunderbolt. Two or three
elephant-riders at a time, cased in mail and standing together, thy sire
pierced with one shaft of sharp point. Whoever approached Bhishma, that
tiger among men, in battle, seen for a moment, was next beheld to fall
down on the ground. And that vast host of king Yudhishthira the just,
thus slaughtered by Bhishma of incomparable prowess, gave way in a
thousand directions. And afflicted with that arrowy shower, the vast army
began to tremble in the very presence of Vasudeva and the high-souled
Partha. And although the heroic leaders of the Pandava army made great
efforts, yet they could not check the flight of (even) the great
car-warriors of their side afflicted with the shafts of Bhishma. The
prowess, in consequence of which that vast army was routed, was equal to
that of the chief of the gods himself. And that army was so completely
routed, O great king, that no two persons could be seen together. And
cars and elephants and steeds were pierced all over, and standards and
shafts of cars were strewn over the field. And the army of the sons of
Pandu uttered cries of oh and alas, and became deprived of senses. And
the sire struck the son and the son struck the sire; and friend
challenged the dearest of friends to battle as if under the influence of
fate. And others amongst the combatants of Pandu's son were seen, O
Bharata, to run away, throwing aside their coats of mail, and with
dishevelled hair. And the army of the sons of Pandu, indulging in loud
wails, including the very leaders of their best of car-warriors, was seen
to be as confounded as a very herd of kine. The delighter of the Yadavas
then, beholding that army thus routed, said unto Partha, stopping that
best of cars (which he guided), these words, 'The hour is now come, O
Partha, which was desired by thee. Strike Bhishma, O tiger among men,
else, thou wilt lose the senses. O hero, formerly, in the conclave of
kings, thou hadst said,--"I will slay all the warriors of Dhritarashtra's
sons, headed by Bhishma and Drona--all in fact, who will fight with me in
battle." O son of Kunti, O chastiser of foes, make those words of thine
true. Behold, O Vibhatsu, this army of thine is being routed on all
sides. Behold, the kings in Yudhishthira's host are all flying away,
seeing Bhishma in battle, who looketh like the Destroyer himself with
wide-open mouth. Afflicted with fear, they are