h arrows. The Kirata, however, with a glad heart
received all those shafts upon himself, repeatedly saying, 'Wretch,
wretch, shoot thou best arrows capable of piercing into the very vitals.'
Thus addressed, Arjuna, began to shower his arrows on him. Both of them
then became angry and, engaging in fierce conflict, began to shoot at
each other showers of arrows, each resembling a snake of virulent poison.
And Arjuna rained a perfect shower of arrows on the Kirata, Sankara,
however, bore that downpour on him with a cheerful heart. But the wielder
of the Pinaka, having borne that shower of arrows for a moment, stood
unwounded, immovable like a hill. Dhananjaya, beholding his arrowy shower
become futile, wondered exceedingly, repeatedly saying, 'Excellent!
Excellent! Alas, this mountaineer of delicate limbs, dwelling on the
heights of the Himavat, beareth, without wavering, the shafts shot from
the Gandiva! Who is he? Is he Rudra himself, or some other god, or a
Yaksha, or an Asura? The gods sometimes do descend on the heights of the
Himavat. Except the god who wieldeth the Pinaka, there is none rise that
can bear the impetuosity of the thousands of arrows shot by me from the
Gandiva. Whether he is a god or a Yaksha, in fact, anybody except Rudra,
I shall soon send him, with my shafts, to the regions of Yama.' Thus
thinking, Arjuna, with a cheerful heart, began, O king, to shoot arrows
by hundreds, resembling in splendour the rays of the sun. That downpour
of shafts, however, the illustrious Creator of the worlds--the wielder of
the trident--bore with a glad heart, like a mountain bearing a shower of
rocks. Soon, however, the arrows of Phalguna were exhausted. And noticing
this fact, Arjuna became greatly alarmed. And the son of Pandu then began
to think of the illustrious god Agni who had before, during the burning
of the Khandava, given him a couple of inexhaustible quivers. And he
began to think, 'Alas, my arrows are all exhausted. What shall I shoot
now from my bow? Who is this person that swalloweth my arrows? Slaying
him with the end of my bow, as elephants are killed with lances, I shall
send him to the domains of the mace-bearing Yama.' The illustrious Arjuna
then, taking up his bow and dragging the Kirata with his bow-string,
struck him some fierce blows that descended like thunderbolts. When,
however, that slayer of hostile heroes--the son of Kunti--commenced the
conflict with the end of the bow, the mountaineer snatc