d to split. Having slain 10,000 Kshatriyas, Kunti's son,
that mighty car-warrior, then quickly proceeded to the further wing of
the samsaptakas. Repairing to that further wing which was protected by
the Kambojas, Partha began to grind it forcibly with his arrows like
Vasava grinding the Danavas. With broad-headed arrows he began to quickly
cut off the arms, with weapons in grasp, and also the heads of foes
longing to slay him. Deprived of diverse limbs, and of weapons, they
began to fall down on the Earth, like trees of many boughs broken by a
hurricane. While he was engaged in thus slaughtering elephants and steeds
and car-warriors and foot-soldiers, the younger brother of Sudakshina
(the chief of the Kambojas) began to pour showers of arrows on him. With
a couple of crescent-shaped arrows, Arjuna cut off the two arms, looking
like spiked maces, of his striking assailant, and then his head graced
with a face as beautiful as the full moon, with a razor-headed arrow.
Deprived of life, he fell down from his vehicle, his body bathed in
blood, like the thunder-riven summit of a mountain of red arsenic.
Indeed, people saw the tall and exceedingly handsome younger brother of
Sudakshina, the chief of the Kambojas, of eyes resembling lotus petals,
slain and fall down like a column of gold or like a summit of the golden
Sumeru. Then commenced a battle there once more that was fierce and
exceedingly wonderful. The condition of the struggling combatants varied
repeatedly. Each slain with a single arrow, and combatants of the
Kamboja, the Yavana, and the Saka races, fell down bathed in blood, upon
which the whole field of battle became one expanse of red, O monarch. In
consequence of car-warriors deprived of steeds and drivers, and steeds
deprived of riders, and elephants deprived of riders, and riders deprived
of elephants, battling with one another, O king, a great carnage took
place. When the wing and the further wing of the samsaptakas had thus
been exterminated by Savyasaci, the son of Drona quickly proceeded
against Arjuna, that foremost of victorious warriors. Indeed, Drona's son
rushed, shaking his formidable bow, and taking with him many terrible
arrows like the Sun himself appearing with his own rays. With mouth wide
open from rage and with the desire to retaliate, and with red eyes, the
mighty Ashvatthama looked formidable like death himself, armed with his
mace and filled with wrath as at the end of the Yuga. He then shot