it resembled the roar of the ocean.  As they were slain by Partha of immeasurable might, they fought him, each according to his strength and prowess.  Their animals being all exhausted, Partha succeeded in depriving a large number of those warriors of their senses by means of his sharpest shafts in that battle.  Then Dussala, their queen, the daughter of Dhritarashtra, knowing that they were rendered cheerless by Arjuna, took her grandson in her arms and repaired to Arjuna.  The child was the son of Suratha (the son of Jayadratha).  The brave prince proceeded to his maternal uncle on his car for the safety of all the Saindhava warriors.  The queen, arrived at the presence of Dhananjaya, began to weep in sorrow.  The puissant Dhananjaya, seeing her, cast off his bow.  Abandoning his bow, Partha duly received his sister and enquired of her as to what he could do for her.  The queen replied unto him, saying,—­’O chief of the Bharatas, this child is the son of thy sister’s son.  He salutes thee, O Partha.  Look at him, O foremost of men.’  Thus addressed by her, Partha enquired after his son (Suratha), saying—­’Where is he?’ Dussala then answered him, saying,—­’Burning with grief on account of the slaughter of his sire, the heroic father of this child died in great affliction of heart.  Listen to me how he met with his death.  ’O Dhananjaya, he had heard before that his sire Jayadratha had been slain by thee, O sinless one.  Exceedingly afflicted with grief at this, and hearing of thy arrival here as the follower and protector of the sacrificial horse, he at once fell down and gave up his life-breaths.  Verily, deeply afflicted with grief as he was, as go on as he heard of thy arrival he gave up his life.  Seeing him prostrate on the Earth, O lord, I took his infant son with me and have come to thee, desirous of thy protection.’  Having said these words, the daughter of Dhritarashtra began to lament in deep affliction.  Arjuna stood before her in great cheerlessness of heart.  His face was turned towards the Earth.  The cheerless sister then said unto her brother, who was equally cheerless, these words:  ’Behold thy sister.  Behold the child of thy sister’s son.  O perpetuator of Kuru’s race, O thou that art fully conversant with every duty, it behoveth thee to show mercy to this child, forgetting the Kuru prince (Duryodhana) and the wicked Jayadratha.  Even as that slayer of hostile heroes, Parikshit, has been born of Abhimanyu, so has this mighty-armed child, my grandson, sprung from Suratha.  Taking him with me, O chief of men, I have come to thee, desirous of the safety of all the warriors.  Do thou listen to these words of mine.  This child of that wicked foe of thine hath now come to thee, O mighty-armed hero.  It behoveth thee, therefore to show mercy to this infant.  O chastiser of foes, this infant seeks to gratify thee by bending his head.  He solicits thee for peace.  O mighty-armed hero, be inclined to make peace.  O thou that art conversant