le, Tvashtri himself had forged it with great care after
having observed many vows. Unerringly fatal, it was destructive of all
haters of Brahma. Having carefully inspired it with many fierce mantras,
and endued it with terrible velocity by the exercise of great might and
great care, king Yudhishthira hurled it along the best of tracks for the
destruction of the ruler of the Madras. Saying in a loud voice the words,
"Thou art slain, O wretch!" the king hurled it, even as Rudra had, in
days of yore, shot his shaft for the destruction of the asura Andhaka,
stretching forth his strong (right) arm graced with a beautiful hand, and
apparently dancing in wrath.

"'Shalya, however, roared aloud and endeavoured to catch that excellent
dart of irresistible energy hurled by Yudhishthira with all his might,
even as a fire leaps forth for catching a jet of clarified butter poured
over it. Piercing through his very vitals and his fair and broad chest,
that dart entered the Earth as easily as it would enter any water without
the slightest resistance and bearing away (with it) the world-wide fame
of the king (of the Madras). Covered with the blood that issued from his
nostrils and eyes and ears and mouth, and that which flowed from his
wound, he then looked like the Krauncha mountain of gigantic size when it
was pierced by Skanda. His armour having been cut off by that descendant
of Kuru's race, the illustrious Shalya, strong as Indra's elephant,
stretching his arms, fell down on the Earth, like a mountain summit riven
by thunder. Stretching his arms, the ruler of the Madras fell down on the
Earth, with face directed towards king Yudhishthira the just, like a tall
banner erected to the honour of Indra falling down on the ground. Like a
dear wife advancing to receive her dear lord about to fall on her breast,
the Earth then seemed, from affection, to rise a little for receiving
that bull among men as he fell down with mangled limbs bathed in blood.
The puissant Shalya, having long enjoyed the Earth like a dear wife, now
seemed to sleep on the Earth's breast, embracing her with all his limbs.
Slain by Dharma's son of righteous soul in fair fight, Shalya seemed to
assume the aspect of a goodly fire lying extinguished on the sacrificial
platform. Though deprived of weapons and standard, and though his heart
had been pierced, beauty did not yet seem to abandon the lifeless ruler
of the Madras. Then Yudhishthira, taking up his bow whose splen