Then winged arrows flew swiftly from Bhishma's chariot, covering the sky and the earth on every side. Bhishma, foremost among smiters, cast down the Panchalas, Matsyas, Kekayas, and Prabhadrakas with his shafts. Quickly leaving aside Arjuna, the ambidextrous one, in the battle, he charged at the Panchala prince Drupada, who was surrounded by his army, O king, and showered arrows upon his own dear kinsman. Drupada's armies appeared scorched by arrows, like forests burned by fire at the close of winter. Bhishma stood in the battle like a smokeless flame, like the midday sun blazing with its own splendor. The warriors of the Pandava army could not bear to look upon Bhishma. Oppressed by fear, the Pandavas glanced about on every side and found no protector, like cattle tormented by cold. With their army struck down, scattered in flight, dispirited, and crushed, a great cry of woe arose among the hosts of Pandu, O Bharata. Then Bhishma, son of Shantanu, his bow ever moving in an unbroken circle, loosed arrows with blazing points, like venomous serpents. Steadfast in his vow, he reduced every direction to a single path with his arrows and, singling out target after target, struck down the chariots of the Pandavas, O Bharata. When the armies had been shattered and utterly crushed on every side, and the sun had reached its setting, nothing could be discerned any longer. Seeing Bhishma rising ever more powerful in that great battle, the sons of Pritha ordered their armies to withdraw, O best of the Bharatas."