addressing his own warriors decked with diverse ornaments and weapons, said unto them, ’Adopt such contrivances in consequence of which these Dhritarashtra warriors with their weapons and animals may all be destroyed.’  Saying ‘Yes’, all those warriors of Iravat began to slay those mighty and invincible Dhartarashtra soldiers.  Beholding that their own warriors were thus overthrown by Iravat’s division, those sons of Suvala being unable to beat it coolly, all rushed at Iravat and surrounded him on all sides.  And commanding (all their followers) to attack those of Iravat with lances, those heroes swept over the field, creating a great confusion.  And Iravat, pierced with lances by those high-souled warriors, and bathed in blood that trickled down (his wounds), looked like an elephant pierced with the hook.  Wounded deeply on the chest, back, and flanks, singly encountering the many, he did not yet, O king, swerve from his (natural) firmness.  Indeed, Iravat, excited with rage, deprived all those adversaries of their senses, piercing them, in that battle, with sharp shafts.  And that chastiser of foes, tearing those lances from off his body, struck with them the sons of Suvala in battle.  Then unsheathing his polished sword and taking a shield, he rushed on foot, desirous of slaying Suvala’s sons in that combat.  The sons of Suvala, however, recovering their senses, once more rushed at Iravat, excited with wrath.  Iravat, however, proud of his might, and displaying his lightness of hand, proceeded towards all of them, armed with his sword.  Moving as he did with great activity, the sons of Suvala, although they moved about on their fleet steeds, could not find an opportunity for striking that hero (on foot).  Beholding him then on foot, his foes surrounded him closely and wished to take him captive.  Then that crusher of foes, seeing them contiguous to himself, struck off, with his sword, both their right and left arms, and mangled their other limbs.  Then those arms of theirs adorned with gold, and their weapons, fell down on the earth, and they themselves, with limbs mangled, fell down on the field, deprived of life.  Only Vrishava, O king, with many wounds on his person, escaped (with life) from that dreadful battle destructive of heroes.  Beholding them lying on the field of battle, thy son Duryodhana, excited with wrath said unto that Rakshasa of terrible mien, viz., Rishyasringa’s son (Alamvusha), that great bowman versed in illusion, that chastiser of foes, who bore feelings of animosity against Bhimasena in consequence of the slaughter of Vaka, these words:  “Behold, O hero, how the mighty son of Phalguni, versed in illusion, hath done me a severe injury by destroying my forces.  Thou also, O sire, art capable of going everywhere at will and accomplished in all weapons of illusion.  Thou cherishest animosity also for Partha.  Therefore, do thou slay this one in battle.’  Saying ‘Yes’, that Rakshasa of terrible mien proceeded with a leonine