eyes red as copper in rage, completely covered each other in that battle with their shafts.  Frightening each other with the terrible sounds they made by their palms, they continued to fight with each other, each counteracting the feats of the other.  Then bending his formidable bow adorned with gold, Drona’s son began to gaze steadfastly at Bhima who was thus shooting his shafts at him.  At that time, Aswatthaman looked like the meridian sun of blazing rays in an autumnal day.  So quickly then did he shoot his shafts that people could not see when he took them out of his quiver when he fixed them on the bowstring when he drew the string, and when he let them off.  Indeed, when employed in shooting his arrows, his bow, O monarch, seemed to be incessantly drawn to fiery circle.  Shafts in a hundred thousands, shot from his bow, seemed to course through the welkin like a flight of locusts.  Indeed, those terrible shafts adorned with gold, shot from the bow of Drona’s son, coursed incessantly towards Bhima’s car.  The prowess, O Bharata, that we then beheld of Bhimasena, and his might, energy, and spirit, were exceedingly wonderful, for, regarding that terrible shower of arrows thick as a gathering mass of clouds, failing around him to be nothing more than a downpour of rain at the close of summer.  Bhima of terrible prowess, desirous of slaying the son of Drona, in return poured his arrows upon the latter like a cloud in the season of rains.  Bhima’s large and formidable bow of golden back, incessantly drawn in that battle, looked resplendent like a second bow of Indra.  Shafts in hundreds and thousands, issuing from it, shrouded Drona’s son, that ornament of battle in that encounter.  The showers of shafts, shot by both of them were so dense, O sire, that the very wind, O king, could not find room for coursing through them.  Then Drona’s son, O king, desirous of slaying Bhima, sped at him many gold-decked arrows of keen points steeped in oil.  Showing his superiority to Drona’s son Bhimasena cut off each of those arrows into three fragments before they could come at him.  The son of Pandu then said, ‘Wait Wait.’  And once more, the mighty son of Pandu filled with rage, and desirous of slaying the son of Drona, shot at him a terrible shower of fierce arrows.  Then Drona’s son that warrior acquainted with the highest weapons, quickly destroying that arrowy shower by the illusion of his own weapons, cut off Bhima’s bow in that encounter.  Filled with rage, he then pierced Bhima himself with innumerable shafts in that battle.  Endued with great might, Bhima then, after his bow had been cut off, hurled a dart at Aswatthaman’s car, having whirled it previously with great impetuosity.  The son of Drona, displaying the lightness of his hand in that encounter, quickly cut off, by means of sharp shafts, that dart as it coursed towards him with the splendour of a blazing brand.  Meanwhile, terrible Vrikodara, taking up a very strong bow, and smiling the while, began to pierce the son of Drona with many