day. So quickly then did he shoot his shafts that
people could not see when he took them out of his quiver, when he fixed
them on the bowstring, when he drew the string, and when he let them off.
Indeed, when employed in shooting his arrows, his bow, O monarch, seemed
to be incessantly drawn to fiery circle. Shafts in a hundred thousands,
shot from his bow, seemed to course through the welkin like a flight of
locusts. Indeed, those terrible shafts adorned with gold, shot from the
bow of Drona's son, coursed incessantly towards Bhima's car. The prowess,
O Bharata, that we then beheld of Bhimasena, and his might, energy, and
spirit, were exceedingly wonderful, for, regarding that terrible shower
of arrows thick as a gathering mass of clouds, falling around him to be
nothing more than a downpour of rain at the close of summer. Bhima of
terrible prowess, desirous of slaying the son of Drona, in return poured
his arrows upon the latter like a cloud in the season of rains. Bhima's
large and formidable bow of golden back, incessantly drawn in that
battle, looked resplendent like a second bow of Indra. Shafts in hundreds
and thousands, issuing from it, shrouded Drona's son, that ornament of
battle in that encounter. The showers of shafts, shot by both of them
were so dense, O sire, that the very wind, O king, could not find room
for coursing through them. Then Drona's son, O king, desirous of slaying
Bhima, sped at him many gold-decked arrows of keen points steeped in oil.
Showing his superiority to Drona's son Bhimasena cut off each of those
arrows into three fragments before they could come at him. The son of
Pandu then said, "Wait, Wait." And once more, the mighty son of Pandu
filled with rage, and desirous of slaying the son of Drona, shot at him a
terrible shower of fierce arrows. Then Drona's son that warrior
acquainted with the highest weapons, quickly destroying that arrowy
shower by the illusion of his own weapons, cut off Bhima's bow in that
encounter. Filled with rage, he then pierced Bhima himself with
innumerable shafts in that battle. Endued with great might, Bhima then,
after his bow had been cut off, hurled a dart at Aswatthaman's car,
having whirled it previously with great impetuosity. The son of Drona,
displaying the lightness of his hand in that encounter, quickly cut off,
by means of sharp shafts, that dart as it coursed towards him with the
splendour of a blazing brand. Meanwhile, terrible Vrikodara, taking