of the steeds dead or dying, but all weltering in blood, with their riders (lying about them), felled by Subhadra’s son, the earth in many places became impassable.  And with iron hooks, and elephants—­huge as hills—­equipped with shields and weapons and standards, lying about, crushed with shafts, with excellent cars deprived of steeds and charioteers and car-warriors, lying scattered on the earth, crushed by elephants and looking like agitated lakes, with large bodies of foot-soldiers decked with diverse weapons and lying dead on the ground, the field of battle, wearing a terrible aspect, inspired all timid hearts with terror.

“Beholding Abhimanyu, resplendent as the sun or the moon, lying on the ground, thy troops were in transport of joy, while Pandavas were filled with grief.  When youthful Abhimanyu, yet in his minority, fell, the Pandava divisions, O king, fled away in the very sight of king Yudhishthira.  Beholding his army breaking upon the fall of Subhadra’s son, Yudhishthira addressed his brave warriors, slaying, ’The heroic Abhimanyu, who without retreating from battle hath been slain, hath certainly ascended to heaven.  Stay then, and fear not, for we shall yet vanquish our foes.’  Endued with great energy and great splendour, king Yudhishthira the just, that foremost of warriors, saying such words unto his soldiers inspired with grief, endeavoured to dispel their stupor.  The king continued, ’Having in the first instance, slain in battle hostile princes, resembling snakes of virulent poison, the son of Arjuna hath then given up his life.  Having slain ten thousand warriors, viz., the king of the Kosalas, Abhimanyu, who was even like Krishna or Arjuna himself, hath assuredly gone to the abode of Indra.  Having destroyed cars and steeds and men and elephants by thousands, he was still not content with what he did.  Performing as he did such meritorious feats, we should not certainly grieve for him, he hath gone to the bright regions of the righteous, regions that men acquire by meritorious deeds.’”

SECTION XLVIII

“Sanjaya said, ’Having thus slain one of their foremost warriors, and having been afflicted with their arrows, we came back to our encampment in the evening, covered with blood.  Steadfastly gazed at by the enemy, we slowly left, O monarch, the field of battle, having sustained a severe loss and nearly deprived of our senses.  Then came that wonderful hour intervening between day and night.  Inauspicious howls of jackals were heard.  The sun, with the pale-red hue of the filaments of the lotus,—­sank low in the horizon, having approached the western hills.  And he took away with him the splendour of our swords and darts, rapiers and car-fences, and shields and ornaments.  Causing the firmament and the earth to assume the same hue, the sun assumed his favourite form of fire.  The field of battle was strewn with the motionless bodies of innumerable elephants deprived of life, Looking