Those men that
sought to fly away from their camp for saving their lives, were slain by
Kritavarma and Kripa at the gate. Divested of weapons and instruments and
armour, and with dishevelled hair, they joined their hands. Trembling
with fear, they were on the ground. The two Kuru warriors, however, (who
were on their cars) gave quarter to none. None amongst those that escaped
from the camp was let off by those two wicked persons, Kripa and
Kritavarma. Then again, for doing that which was highly agreeable to
Drona's son, those two set fire to the Pandava camp in three places.
When the camp was lighted, Ashvatthama, that delighter of his sires, O
monarch, careered, sword in hand and smiting his foes with great skill.
Some of his brave foes rushed towards him and some ran hither and
thither. That foremost of regenerate ones, with his sword, deprived all
of them of their lives. The valiant son of Drona, filled with rage,
felled some of the warriors, cutting them in twain with his sword as if
they were sesame stalks. The Earth, O bull of Bharata's race, became
strewn with the fallen bodies of the foremost of men and steeds and
elephants mingled together and uttering woeful wails and cries. When
thousands of men had fallen down deprived of life, innumerable headless
trunks stood up and fell down. Ashvatthama, O Bharata, cut off arms
adorned with angadas and holding weapons in grasp, and heads, and thighs
resembling trunks of elephants, and hands, and feet.
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