A car might be seen upon another car, and a steed upon another steed. And impetuous chargers, O king, bore hither and thither heroic riders in the prime of youth, slain and hanging (from their saddles) with their bows (still in their grasp).[339] With swords and quivers attached (to their persons) and coats of mail loosened (from their bodies), hundreds of warriors, deprived of life, lay on the ground, sleeping on beds (worthy) of heroes. Rushing against one another, falling down and rising up again and rushing again having risen up, the combatants fought hand to hand. Afflicted by one another, many rolled on the field of battle. Infuriate elephants rushed hither and thither, and car-warriors by hundreds were slain. And car-warriors, along with their cars, were crushed on all sides. And some warriors fell upon his car, slain by another with arrows. And a mighty car-warrior might be seen to fall down from high, his charioteer (also) having been slain.
A thick dust arose, and thereupon unto the warrior struggling in battle, the twang of the (hostile) bow indicated the struggling adversary before. From the pressure also on their bodies, combatants guessed their foes. And the warriors, O king, fought on with arrows, guided by the sound of bow-strings and (hostile) division. The very hiss of the arrows shot by the combatants at one another could not be heard. And so loud was the sound of drums, that it seemed to pierce the ears. And in that tumultuous uproar making the hair stand on end, the name of the combatant uttered in the battle, while displaying his prowess, could not be heard. The sire could not recognise the son of his loins. One of the wheels being broken, or the yoke being torn off or one of the steeds being slain, the brave car-warrior was overthrown from his car, along with his charioteer, by means of straight arrows. And thus many heroic warriors, deprived of their cars, were seen to fly away.[340] He who was slain had cut off; he who was not slain, was struck at the very vitals: but unstruck there was none, when Bhishma attacked the foe. And in that terrific battle, Sweta caused a great slaughter of the Kurus. And he slew many noble princes by hundreds upon hundreds.[341] And he cut off, by means of his arrows, the heads of car-warriors by hundreds upon hundreds, and (their) arms decked with Angadas, and (their) bows all around.
And car-warriors and car-wheels and others that were on cars, and the cars themselves, and standards both small and costly, O king, and large bodies of horses, and crowds of cars, and crowds of men, O Bharata’s race, were destroyed by Sweta. Ourselves, from fear of Sweta, abandoning (Bhishma) that best of car-warriors, left the battle retreating to the rear and, therefore, do we (now) behold your lordship. And all the Kurus, O son of Kuru’s race, beyond the range of arrows, and abandoning Bhishma the son of Santanu, in that battle, stood (as spectators though) armed for the combat. Cheerful in the hour of (universal) cheerlessness, that tiger among men Bhishma, alone of our army, in that terrible battle stood immovable like the mountain Meru. Taking the lives (of the foe) like the Sun at close of winter, he stood resplendent with the golden rays (of his car) like the Sun himself with his rays. And that great bowman shot clouds of arrows and struck down the Asuras.[342] And while being slaughtered by Bhishma in that dreadful combat, those warriors breaking away from their ranks, they all fled from him, as if from a fire fed by fuel.[343] Encountering the single warrior (Sweta), that slayer of foes, Bhishma, was the only one (amongst us) who was cheerful and whole.
Devoted to the welfare of Duryodhana, he began to consume the Pandava (warrior). Reckless of his very life which is difficult of being cast off, and abandoning all fear he slaughtered, O king, the Pandava army in that fierce conflict.[344] And beholding the generalissimo (Sweta) smiting the (Dhartarashtra) divisions, thy father Bhishma, called also Devavrata, impetuously rushed against him. Thereupon, Sweta covered Bhishma with an extensive net-work of arrows. And Bhishma also covered Sweta with a flight of arrows. And roaring like a couple of bulls, they rushed, like two infuriate elephants of gigantic size or two raging tigers, against each other. Baffling each other’s weapons by means of their weapons, those bulls among men, viz., Bhishma and Sweta fought with each other, desirous of taking each other’s life. In one single day Bhishma, infuriate with anger, could consume the Pandava army with his arrows, if Sweta did not protect it. Beholding the grandsire then turned off by Sweta, the Pandavas were filled with joy, while thy son became cheerless. Duryodhana then, with wrath excited and surrounded by many kings, rushed with his troops against the Pandava host in battle.
Then Sweta, abandoning the son of Ganga, slaughtered thy son’s host with great impetuosity like the wind (uprooting) trees with violence. And the son of Virata, senseless with wrath, having routed thy army, advanced (once more), O king, to the place where Bhishma was stationed. And those two high-souled and mighty warriors then, both blazing with their arrows, battled with each other like Vritra and Vasava (of old), desirous, O king, of slaying each other. Drawing (his) bow to the fullest stretch, Sweta pierced Bhishma with seven arrows. The valourous (Bhishma) then, putting forth his prowess, quickly checked his foe’s valour, like an infuriate elephant checking an infuriate compeer. And Sweta then, that delighter of Kshatriyas struck Bhishma, and Bhishma the son of Santanu also pierced him in return with ten arrows. And though pierced by him (thus), that mighty warrior stood still like a mountain. And Sweta again pierced Santanu’s son with five and twenty straight arrows, at which all wondered. Then smiling and licking with his tongue the corners of his mouth, Sweta in that combat cut off Bhishma’s bow into ten fragments with ten arrows.
Then aiming a plumed arrow made wholly of iron, (Sweta) crushed the palmyra on the top of the standard of the high-souled (Bhishma). And beholding the standard of Bhishma cut down, thy sons thought that Bhishma was slain, having succumbed to Sweta. And the Pandavas also filled with delight, blew their conches all around. And beholding the palmyra standard of the high-souled Bhishma laid low, Duryodhana, from wrath, urged his own army to the battle. And they all began very carefully to protect Bhishma who ‘was in great distress. Unto them, also unto those that stood (idle) spectators, the king said,–Either Sweta will die (today), or Bhishma the son of Santanu. I say this truly. Hearing the words of the king, the mighty car-warriors speedily with four kinds of forces, advanced protecting the son of Ganga. And Valhika and Kritavarman, and Kripa, and Salya also, O Bharata, and the son of Jarasandha, and Vikarna, and Chitrasena, and Vivinsati, with great speed, when speed was so necessary, surrounding him on all sides, poured on Sweta ceaseless showers of arrows. That mighty warrior then, of immeasurable soul, quickly checked those angry warriors by means of sharp arrows, displaying his own lightness of hand. And checking them all like a lion and a multitude of elephants, Sweta then cut off Bhishma’s bow with thick shower of arrows.
Then Bhishma the son of Santanu, taking up another bow in that battle, pierced Sweta, O king, with arrows furnished with feathers of Kanka bird. Then the commander (of the Pandava army), with wrath excited, pierced Bhishma in that encounter O king, with a great many shafts in the very sight of all. Beholding Bhishma, that foremost of heroes in all the world, checked in battle by Sweta, the king (Duryodhana) became greatly troubled, and great also became the distress of thy whole army. And beholding the heroic Bhishma checked and mangled by Sweta with his arrows, all thought that Bhishma, having succumbed to Sweta, was slain by him. Then thy sire Devavrata, yielding to anger, and beholding his (own) standard overthrown and the (Dhartarashtra) army checked, shot a great many arrows, O king, at Sweta. Sweta, however, that foremost of car-warriors, baffling all those arrows of Bhishma, once more cut off, with a broad-headed shaft, thy sire’s bow.
