Hearing the wails of woe, elephants, steeds, breaking their
cords, rushed hither and thither, crushing the combatants in the camp. As
those animals rushed hither and thither, the dust raised by them made the
night doubly dark. When that thick gloom set in, the warriors in the camp
became perfectly stupefied; sires recognised not their sons, brothers
recognised not their brothers. Elephants assailing riderless elephants,
and steeds assailing riderless steeds, assailed and broke and crushed the
people that stood in their way. Losing all order, combatants rushed and
slew one another, and felling those that stood in their way, crushed them
into pieces. Deprived of their senses and overcome with sleep, and
enveloped in gloom, men, impelled by fate, slew their own comrades. The
guards, leaving the gates they watched, and those at duty at the outposts
leaving the posts they guarded, fled away for their lives, deprived of
their senses and not knowing whither they proceeded. They slew one
another, the slayers, O lord, not recognising the slain. Afflicted by
Fate, they cried after their sires and sons. While they fled, abandoning
their friends and relatives, they called upon one another, mentioning
their families and names. Other, uttering cries of "Oh!" and "Alas!" fell
down on the earth. In the midst of the battle, Drona's son, recognising
them, slew them all.
Other kshatriyas, while being slaughtered, lost their senses, and
afflicted by fear, sought to fly away from their camps.
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