Once
more, O monarch, that battle became general and awful. Here an encounter
was beautiful, there another was awful, and there another was exceedingly
fierce, O lord! Many and awful, O monarch, were the encounters that took
place in course of that battle. Those chastisers of foes (belonging to
both armies), encountering one another, pierced and slew one another in
that dreadful engagement. A dense cloud of dust was then seen there,
raised by the vehicles and the animals of the warriors. Thick also, O
king, was the dust raised by the running steeds, a dust that was carried
from one place to another by the wind. Raised by the wheels of cars and
the breaths of the elephants, the dust, thick as an evening cloud, rose
into the welkin. That dust having been raised and the sun himself having
been dimmed therewith, the Earth became shrouded, and the heroic and
mighty car-warriors could not be seen. Anon that disappeared and
everything became clear when the Earth, O best of the Bharatas, became
drenched with the blood of heroes. Indeed, that dense and awful cloud of
dust was allayed. Then, O Bharata, I could once more see the diverse
single combats that the combatants fought at noon of day, each according
to his strength and his rank, all of which were exceedingly fierce. The
blazing splendour of those feats, O monarch, appeared full in view. Loud
became the noise of falling shafts in that battle, resembling that made
by a vast forest of bamboo while burning on every side.
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