haman, dyed with blood and quickly entered the earth like
snakes into an ant-hill. The light-handed Aswatthaman, however, of great
prowess, filled with wrath, pierced Ghatotkacha with ten arrows.
Ghatotkacha, deeply pierced in his vital parts by Drona's son, and
feeling great pain, took up a wheel having a thousand spokes. Its edge
was sharp as a razor, and it was resplendent as the rising sun. And it
was decked with diverse gems and diamonds. Desirous of slaying him, the
son of Bhimasena hurled that wheel at Aswatthaman. And as that wheel
coursed swiftly towards Drona's son, the latter cut it into fragments by
means of his shafts. Baffled, it fell down on the earth, like the hope
cherished by an unfortunate man. Beholding his wheel baffled, Ghatotkacha
quickly covered the son of Drona with his shafts, like Rahu swallowing
the sun. Meanwhile, Ghatotkacha's son endued with great splendour and
looking like a mass of antimony, checked the advancing son of Drona like
the king of mountain (Meru) checking the (course of the) wind. Afflicted
with showers of shafts by Bhimasena's grandson, viz., the brave
Anjanaparvan, Aswatthaman looked like the mountain Meru bearing a torrent
of rain from a mighty cloud. Then Aswatthaman, equal unto Rudra or
Upendra in prowess, became filled with rage. With one shaft he cut off
the standard of Anjanaparvan. With two others, his two drivers, and with
three others, his Trivenuka. And he cut off the Rakshasa's bow with one
arrow, and his four steeds with four other arrows. Made carless,
Anjanaparvan took up a scimitar. With another keen shaft, Aswatthaman cut
off in two fragments that scimitar, decked with golden stars, in the
Rakshasa's hand. The grandson of Hidimva then, O king, whirling a gold
adorned mace, quickly hurled it at Aswatthaman. Drona's son, however,
striking it with his shafts, caused it to fall down on the earth. Soaring
up then into the sky, Anjanaparvan began to roar like a cloud. And from
the welkin he showered trees upon his foe. Like the sun piercing a mass
of clouds with his rays, Aswatthaman then began to pierce with his shafts
the son of Ghatotkacha, that receptacle of illusions, in the welkin.
Gifted with great energy, the Rakshasa once more came down on his gold
decked car. He then looked like a high and beautiful hill of antimony on
the surface of the earth. The son of Drona then slew that son of Bhima's
son, viz., Anjanaparvan, cased in an iron coat of mail, even as Mah