The Pandavas surrounded the son of Ganga, standing in the midst of the army, O bull of the Bharatas, as though he were an enraged venomous serpent. On that tenth day, displaying his own power, he, joy of the Kurus, slew hundreds of thousands, O king. From the foremost of the Panchalas, mighty princes, he took their vital splendor as the sun draws water with its rays. Having slain ten thousand swift elephants together with their riders, great king, and further ten thousand horses, and two full hundred thousand foot soldiers, Bhishma, best of men, blazed forth in battle like a smokeless fire. None among the Pandavas could so much as look upon him, scorching like the sun as it takes the northern path. Then the enraged Pandavas, tormented by the great archer, and the great chariot-warriors, the Srinjayas, rushed upon Bhishma to slay him. He, mighty-armed Bhishma, son of Shantanu, fighting then against many, was overwhelmed on every side like a mountain covered by dark clouds. And your sons surrounded the son of Ganga on every side together with a great army, and then the battle raged on.