roars. When that fierce uproar, making the hair stand on
end rose, thy son Duryodhana, O king, quickly said unto all the kings and
princes and particularly his uterine brothers, these words, "Blessed be
ye, proceed towards Karna for rescuing him from Vrikodara, else the
shafts shot from Bhima's bow will slay the son of Radha. Ye mighty
bowmen, strive ye to protect the Suta's son." Thus commanded by
Duryodhana, seven of his uterine brothers, O sire, rushing in wrath
towards Bhimasena, encompassed him on all sides. Approaching the son of
Kunti they covered him with showers of arrows, like clouds pouring
torrents of rain on the mountain-breast in the season of rains. Excited
with wrath, those seven great car-warriors began to afflict Bhimasena, O
king, like the seven planets afflicting the moon at the hour of the
universal dissolution. The son of Kunti, then, O monarch, drawing his
beautiful bow with great force and firm grasp, and knowing that his foes
were but men, aimed seven shafts. And lord Bhima in great rage sped at
them those shafts, effulgent as solar rays. Indeed, Bhimasena
recollecting his former wrongs, shot those shafts as if for extracting
the life from out of the bodies of those sons of thine. Those arrows, O
Bharata, whetted on stone and equipped with wings of gold, shot by
Bhimasena, piercing through the bodies of those Bharata princes, flew
into the sky. Indeed, those arrows winged with gold, piercing through the
hearts of thy sons, looked beautiful, O monarch, as they passed into the
sky, like birds of excellent plumage. Decked with gold and covered all
over with blood, those arrows, O king, drinking the blood of thy sons
passed out of their body. Pierced in their vital limbs by means of those
arrows, they fell down on the earth from their cars, like tall trees
growing on mountain precipices, broken by an elephant. The seven sons of
thine that were thus slain were Satrunjaya, and Satrusaha, and Chitra,
and Chitrayudha, and Dridha, and Chitrasena and Vikarna. Amongst all thy
sons thus slain, Vrikodara, the son of Pandu, grieved bitterly from
sorrow for Vikarna who was dear to him. And Bhima said, "Even thus was
the vow made by me, viz., that all of you should be slain by me in
battle. It is for that, O Vikarna, that thou hast been slain. My vow hath
been accomplished. O hero, thou camest to battle, bearing in mind the
duties of a Kshatriya. Thou wert ever engaged in our good, and especially
in that of the