In this terrible battle, while great terror reigned, a dreadful river flowed, its waves made of blood and entrails. It was heaped with masses of bones, its water-weeds and grass replaced by hair, its pools were chariots and its whirlpools arrows, hard to cross, its fish were horses. It was strewn with heads in place of stones, swarming with elephants like crocodiles, rich with the foam of armor and turbans, its islands were bows and its tortoises swords. It was rich with banners and flags like trees, it swept away the banks of mortal men, it swarmed with packs of flesh-eaters, and it swelled the realm of Yama. Many valiant kshatriyas, O king, casting off fear in the great battle, crossed that river on horses, elephants, and chariots as if on rafts. But the timid, overcome with stupor, it carried away in battle to the city of the king of the dead, as the Vaitarani carries away the departed.'