son by the Rakshasi Hidimba is slain by Karna; Drupada's son, Dhrishtadyumna, the leader of the Pandus, overcomes Drona; Drona being a Brahman, when overpowered by his foe, voluntarily laid down his life, and is conducted to heaven "in a glittering shape like the sun," to save Dhrishtadyumna from the enormous crime of killing a Brahman. Karna was then made leader of the Kurus in place of Drona. Bhima next slew Duhsasana, and remembering how this prince had insulted Draupadi, he drank the blood of his fallen foe. Arjuna then slew Karna, and Salya, King of Madra, was appointed to fill the vacant post. Bhima challenges Salya, and the following is the account of their encounter:--

"Soon as he saw his charioteer struck down,
Straightway the Madra monarch grasped his mace,
And like a mountain, firm and motionless,
Awaited the attack. The warrior's form
Was awful as the world-consuming fire,
Or as the noose-armed god of death, or as
The peaked Kailasa, or the Thunderer
Himself, or as the trident-bearing god,
Or as a maddened forest elephant.
Him to defy did Bhima hastily
Advance, wielding aloft his massive club.
A thousand conchs and trumpets, and a shout,
Firing each champion's ardour, rent the air.
From either host, spectators of the fight,
Burst forth applauding cheers: 'The Madra king
Alone,' they cried, 'can bear the rush of Bhima;'
'None but heroic Bhima can sustain
The force of Salya.' Now like two fierce bulls
Sprang they towards each other, mace in hand.
And first, as cautiously they circled round,
Whirling their weapons as in sport, the pair
Seemed matched in equal combat. Salya's club,
Set with red fillets, glittered as with flame,
While that of Bhima gleamed like flashing lightning.

[paragraph continues] Anon the clashing irons met, and scattered round
A fiery shower; then, fierce as elephants
Or butting bulls, they battered each the other.
Thick fell the blows, and soon each stalwart frame,
Spattered with gore, glowed like the Kinsuka,
Bedecked with scarlet blossoms; yet beneath
The rain of strokes, unshaken as a rock,
Bhima sustained the mace of Salya, he
With equal firmness bore the other's blows.
Now, like the roar of crashing thunder-clouds,
Sounded the clashing iron; then, their clubs
Brandished aloft, eight paces they retired,
And swift again advancing to the fight,
Met in the midst like two huge mountain crags
Hurled into contact. Nor could either bear
The other's shock; together down they rolled,
Mangled and crushed, like two tall standards fallen."