As the armies stood on the border between night and dawn, a wind blew bearing raindrops, and thunder rolled in the cloudless sky. Fierce winds gusted from every side, carrying gravel low along the ground, and the dust that rose covered the world in darkness. A great fiery comet, flying eastward, fell, struck the rising sun, and shattered with a loud sound, O best of the Bharatas. As the armies were arming, the sun rose without brilliance; the earth shook with a roar and split apart with a sound, O best of the Bharatas. On every side arose many thunderclaps, a thick dust rose up, and nothing could be discerned. A sudden wind set the great banners swaying, banners shining like the sun, with pennants, golden pendants, and nets of little bells, and from their ringing everything became a jangle of sound, as if in a grove of palms.