son scorched the hostile host with his
arrowy showers.[189] The Pandavas became incapable of even looking at
their brother (Duryodhana). Despairing of vanquishing their foes, they
set their hearts on flying away from the field. Slaughtered by thy
illustrious son, armed with the bow, by means of his gold-winged arrows
of blazing points, the Panchalas ran away in all directions. Afflicted
with those keen shafts, the Pandava troops began to fall down on the
ground. Indeed, the Pandavas had never succeeded in achieving such a feat
in battle as was then achieved by thy royal son, O monarch! The Pandava
host was crushed and ground by an elephant.[190] As, again, an assemblage
of lotuses becomes shorn of its beauty when the water (over which it
grows) is dried up by the sun and the wind, even so became the Pandava
host being dried up by thy son, O Bharata, the Panchalas, with Bhimasena
then with ten shafts, and each of the sons of Madri with three, and
Virata and Drupada each with six, and Sikhandin with a hundred, and
Dhrishtadyumna with seventy, and Yudhishthira with seven, and the
Kaikeyas and the Chedis with innumerable keen shafts, and Satwata with
five, and each of the (five) sons of Draupadi with three, and Ghatotkacha
also with a few, he uttered a leonine shout. Cutting off hundreds of
other warriors and the bodies of elephants and steeds in that great
battle by means of his fierce shafts, he behaved like the Destroyer
himself in rage slaying created beings.[191] While engaged, however, in
thus slaughtering his foes, his bow, the back of whose staff was
ornamented with gold, Yudhishthira, the son of Pandu, O sire, cut off
into three parts with a pair of broad-headed shafts. And Yudhishthira
pierced Duryodhana himself with ten keen arrows shot with great force.
Piercing through Duryodhana's vital limbs, those passed out and entered
the earth in a continuous line. The troops that stood around then
encompassed Yudhishthira, like the celestials encompassing Purandara for
the slaughter of Vritra. Then king Yudhishthira, O sire, who is incapable
of being easily defeated, shot at thy son in that battle a fierce shaft.
Deeply pierced therewith, Duryodhana sat down on his excellent car. Then
a loud noise arose from among the Panchala troops. Even this, O monarch,
was that tremendous uproar, viz., "The king is slain!" The fierce whizz
of arrows also was heard there, O Bharata. Then Drona quickly showed
himself there in that battl