that dreadful battle, pierced Bhagadatta's elephant coming
towards him, with many polished arrows of iron, that were all bright as
silver and furnished with keen points. The son of Kunti, meanwhile, O
king, urged Sikhandin, saying,--'Proceed, proceed, towards Bhishma, and
slay him!'--Then, O elder brother of Pandu, the ruler of Pragjyotishas,
abandoning that son of Pandu, quickly proceeded, O king, against the car
of Drupada. Then Arjuna, O monarch, speedily proceeded towards Bhishma,
placing Sikhandin ahead. And then there took place a fierce battle, for
all the brave combatants of thy army rushed with great vigour against
Arjuna, uttering loud shouts. And all this seemed extremely wonderful.
Like the wind dispersing in the summer masses of clouds in the welkin,
Arjuna dispersed, O king, all those diverse divisions of thy sons.
Sikhandin, however, without any anxiety, coming up at the grandsire of
the Bharatas, quickly pierced him with great many arrows. As regards
Bhishma, his car was then his fire-chamber. His bow was the flame of that
fire. And swords and darts and maces constituted the fuel of that fire.
And the showers of arrows he shot were the blazing sparks of that fire
with which he was then consuming Kshatriyas in that battle. As a raging
conflagration with constant supply of fuel, wandereth amid masses of dry
grass when aided by the wind, so did Bhishma blaze up with his flames,
scattering his celestial weapons. And the Kuru hero slew the Somakas that
followed Partha in that battle. Indeed that mighty car-warrior checked
also the other forces of Arjuna, by means of his straight and whetted
shafts furnished with wings of gold. Filling in that dreadful battle all
the points of the compass, cardinal and subsidiary, with his leonine
shouts, Bhishma felled many car-warriors, O king, (from their cars) and
many steeds along with their riders. And he caused large bodies of cars
to look like forests of palmyras shorn of their leafy heads. That
foremost of all wielders of weapons, in that battle, deprived cars and
steeds and elephants, of their riders. Hearing the twang of his bow and
the slap of his palms, both resembling the roll of the thunder, the
troops, O king, trembled all over the field. The shafts, O chief of men,
of thy sire were never bootless as they fell. Indeed, shot from Bhishma's
bow they never fell only touching the bodies of the foe (but pierced them
through in every case). We saw crowds of cars, O king