tle, those two chastisers of foes sometimes suddenly attacked each
other with their weapons, like two elephants approaching and attacking
each other with their tusks. Covered with blood, they looked very
beautiful, O monarch, on the field. Even thus occurred that battle,
awfully and before the gaze of a large multitude, towards the close of
the day, like the battle between Vritra and Vasava. Armed with maces,
both began to career in circles. Duryodhana, O monarch, adopted the right
mandala, while Bhimasena adopted the left mandala. While Bhima was thus
careering in circles on the field of battle, Duryodhana, O monarch,
suddenly struck him a fierce blow on one of his flanks. Struck by thy
son, O sire, Bhima began to whirl his heavy mace for returning that blow.
The spectators, O monarch, beheld that mace of Bhimasena look as terrible
as Indra's thunder-bolt or Yama's uplifted bludgeon. Seeing Bhima whirl
his mace, thy son, uplifting his own terrible weapon, struck him again.
Loud was the sound, O Bharata, produced by the descent of thy son's mace.
So quick was that descent that it generated a flame of fire in the
welkin. Coursing in diverse kinds of circles, adopting each motion at the
proper time, Suyodhana, possessed of great energy, once more seemed to
prevail over Bhima. The massive mace of Bhimasena meanwhile, whirled with
his whole force, produced a loud sound as also smoke and sparks and
flames of fire. Beholding Bhimasena whirling his mace, Suyodhana also
whirled his heavy and adamantine weapon and presented a highly beautiful
aspect. Marking the violence of the wind produced by the whirl of
Duryodhana's mace, a great fear entered the hearts of all the Pandus and
the Somakas. Meanwhile those two chastisers of foes, displaying on every
side their skill in battle, continued to strike each other with their
maces, like two elephants approaching and striking each other with their
tusks. Both of them, O monarch, covered with blood, looked highly
beautiful. Even thus progressed that awful combat before the gaze of
thousands of spectators at the close of day, like the fierce battle that
took place between Vritra and Vasava. Beholding Bhima firmly stationed on
the field, thy mighty son, careering in more beautiful motions, rushed
towards that son of Kunti. Filled with wrath, Bhima struck the mace,
endued with great impetuosity and adorned with gold, of the angry
Duryodhana. A loud sound with sparks of fire was produced by th