at the van of the array and shows not his back through fear, earns those regions of felicity that are mine.  He who strews the altar of the sacrifice constituted by battle, with swords cased in blue scabbards and severed arms resembling heavy bludgeons, succeeds in winning regions of felicity like mine.  That warrior who, resolved upon obtaining victory, penetrates into the midst of the enemy’s ranks without waiting for any assistance, succeeds in winning regions of felicity like mine.  That warrior who in battle, causes a river of blood to flow, terrible and difficult to cross, having kettle-drums for its frogs and tortoises, the bones of heroes for its sands, blood and flesh for its mire, swords and shields for its rafts, the hair of slain warriors for its floating weeds and moss, the crowds of steeds and elephants and cars for its bridges, standards and banners for its bushes of cane, the bodies or slain elephants for its boats and huge alligators, swords and scimitars for its larger vessels, vultures and Kankas and ravens for the rafts that float upon it, that warrior who causes such a river, difficult of being crossed by even those that are possessed of courage and power and which inspires all timid men with dread, is said to complete the sacrifice by performing the final ablutions.  That hero whose altar (in such a sacrifice) is strewn over with the (severed) heads of foes, of steeds, and of elephants, obtains regions of felicity like mine.  The sages have said that that warrior who regards the van of the hostile army as the chambers of his wives, who looks upon the van of his own army as the vessel for the keep of sacrificial offering, who takes the combatants standing to his south for his Sadasyas and those to his north as his Agnidhras, and who looks upon the hostile forces as his wedded wife, succeeds in winning all regions of felicity.[292] The open space lying between two hosts drawn up for fight constitutes the altar of such a sacrificer, and the three Vedas are his three sacrificial fires.  Upon that altar, aided by the recollection of the Vedas, he performs his sacrifice.  The inglorious warrior who, turning away from the fight in fear, is slain by foes, sinks into hell.  There is no doubt in this.  That warrior, on the other hand, whose blood drenches the sacrificial altar already strewn with hair and flesh and bones, certainly succeeds in attaining a high end.  That powerful warrior who, having slain the commander of the hostile army, mounts the vehicle of his fallen antagonist, comes to be regarded as possessed of the prowess of Vishnu himself and the intelligence of Vrihaspati, the preceptor of the celestials.  That warrior who call seize alive the commander of the hostile army or his son or some other respected leader, succeeds in winning regions of felicity like mine.  One should never grieve for a hero slain in battle.  A slain hero, if nobody grieves for him, goes to heaven and earns the respect of its denizens.  Men do not desire to dedicate (for his salvation)