Then Ghatotkacha, O king, seeing Bhima in such a state, grew enraged; the terrible rakshasa vanished on the spot. Having wrought a dreadful maya that multiplies the terror of the timid, he reappeared after half an instant, clothed in a terrible form. He mounted Airavata, fashioned by his own magic, and other elephants of the quarters became his followers as well. Anjana, Vamana, Mahapadma, and Suprabha — these three great elephants, ridden by rakshasas, huge-bodied, streaming forth abundant must, endowed with splendor, valor, and strength, were mighty in the attack. Ghatotkacha urged on his own elephant, wishing to slay Bhagadatta together with his elephant. And those other nagas, urged on by those mighty rakshasas, rushed forward in fury from the four directions, tusked. They pressed Bhagadatta's elephant with their tusks from every side. Crushed by those elephants, tormented by pain and arrows, it let out an enormous roar, resounding like Indra's thunderbolt.