While your people were thus talking, the mighty chariot-warrior, the son of Kunti [Arjuna], swiftly arrived, making all resound with the rumble of his chariot. Having loosed upon the killing-ground a river — its water blood, its whirlpools chariots, full of heaps of heroes' bones, sweeping away banks of the dead, foaming with torrents of arrows, swarming with fish that were javelins — and having swiftly crossed that river and routed the Kauravas, the Pandava, the Diademed Arjuna, then fell at once upon Drona's host, covering it with a vast net of arrows, as though casting it into confusion.