adeva
had slain in days of yore the Asura Andhaka. Beholding his mighty son
slain by Aswatthaman, Ghatotkacha, coming unto the son of Drona,
fearlessly addressed the heroic son of Saradwata's daughter, who was then
consuming the Pandava troops like a raging forest-conflagration, in these
words:

"'Ghatotkacha said, "Wait, Wait, O son of Drona! Thou shalt not escape me
with life! I shall slay thee today like Agni's son slaying Krauncha."

"'Aswatthaman said, "Go, O son, and fight with others, O thou that hast
the prowess of a celestial. It is not proper, O son of Hidimva, that sire
should battle with son.[199] I do not cherish any grudge against thee, O
son of Hidimva! When, however, one's ire is excited, one may kill one's
own self."'

"Sanjaya continued, 'Having heard these words, Ghatotkacha, filled with
grief on account of the fall of his son, and with eyes red as copper in
wrath, approached Aswatthaman and said, "Am I a dastard in battle, O son
of Drona, like a vulgar person, that thou dost frighten me thus with
words? Thy words are improper. Verily, I have been begotten by Bhima in
the celebrated race of the Kurus. I am a son of the Pandavas, those
heroes that never retreat from battle. I am the king of the Rakshasas,
equal to the Ten-necked (Ravana) in might. Wait, wait, O son of Drona!
Thou shalt not escape me with life. I shall today, on the field of
battle, dispel thy desire for fight." Having thus replied unto
Aswatthaman, that mighty Rakshasa with eyes red as copper in rage, rushed
furiously against the son of Drona, like a lion against a prince of
elephants. And Ghatotkacha began to shower upon that bull among
car-warriors, viz., Drona's son, shafts of the measure of Aksha of battle
car, like a cloud pouring torrents of rain. Drona's son however, with his
own shafts, checked that arrowy shower before it could reach him. At that
time, it seemed that another encounter was taking place in the welkin
between shafts (as the combatants). The welkin, then, during the night,
shone resplendent with the sparks caused by the clash of those weapons,
as if with (myriads of) flies. Observing that his illusion was dispelled
by Drona's son, proud of his prowess in battle, Ghatotkacha, once more
making himself invisible, created an illusion. He assumed the form of a
high mountain, crowded with cliffs and trees, and possessing fountains
from which ceaselessly flowed spears and lances and swords and heavy
clubs. Beholding t