And those gold-winged arrows of his enemies, thus broken into tatters of two or three fragments by the shafts of Bhima, fell upon the ground. Then, O King, there arose one long loud cry of woe from amidst the throng of those valiant chiefs of the Kshatriya race, as they, with their mounts of elephants and steeds and their chariots and body infantry, got afflicted with the arrows thrust hard by Bhima, like thunders rolling in mountains. Those pride of the Kshatriya race, being thus assailed by Bhima, and his powerful shafts smiting them hip and thigh, flew at him (Bhima) from every side of the plain, like the new-fledged family of the feathered tribes thickening around a tree. And as your troops fell back upon him, Bhima, of infinite prowess and strength, repulsed them with the full display of all his might, like the mighty King of Terrors, dealing destruction, at the end of time, with his mace, unto the creation. And your hosts, in that battle, could not repel the fearful impetuosity of Bhima, himself the personation of fire and fury, like the great Destroyer himself rushing, at the end of the cycle, with wide-open mouth for the extermination of all living beings. O Bharata, the whole troops, comprising the Bharata force, thus ruthlessly torn as under in battle, by the noble-minded Bhima, dispersed from the field in a state of panic, like a strong gust of wind scattering thick clouds in a tempest. Then the powerful Bhimasena, endowed with great sagacity, addressing his charioteer once more, said unto him in full glee. "Just know, O Suta, whether do all those chariots, which are advancing towards us, belong to our party, or to that of the enemy. As I, with this battle raging, can make no distinction between the two, see that I do not besiege my own hosts with my shafts.