The Night of Slaughter

To Narayen, Best of lords, be glory given,
To great Saraswati, the Queen in heaven;
Unto Vyâsa, too, be paid his meed,
So shall this story worthily proceed.

"THOSE vanquished warriors then," Sanjaya said,
Fled southwards and, near sunset, past the tents
Unyoked; abiding close, in fear and rage.
There was a wood beyond the camp, untrod,
Quiet; and in its leafy harbor lay
The Princes, some among them bleeding still
From spear and arrow gashes; all sore spent,
Fetching faint breath, and fighting o'er again
In thought that battle. But there came a noise
Of Pandavas pursuing, -fierce and loud
Outcries of victory; whereat these chiefs
Sullenly rose, and yoked their steeds again,
Driving due east; and eastward still they drave
Under the dusk, till drouth and desperate toil
Stayed horse and man; then took they lair again
The panting horses, and the Princes, wroth
With chilled wounds, and the death-stroke of their King.

. . . . .

Now were they come, my Prince! Sanjaya said,
Unto a jungle thick with stems, whereon
The tangled creepers coiled; here entered they,
Watering the horses at a stream, and pushed
Deep in the thicket. Many a beast and bird
Sprang startled at their feet; the long grass stirred
With serpents creeping off - the woodland flowers
Shook, where the pea-fowls hid; and, where frogs plungèd,
The swarm rocked all its reeds and lotus-buds.
A banian-tree, with countless dropping boughs
Earth-rooted, spied they, and beneath its aisles
A pool; hereby they stayed, tethering their steeds,
And, dipping water, made the evening prayer.

"But when the 'Daymaker' sank in the west,
And Night descended,- gentle, soothing Night,
Who comforts all, with silver splendor decked
Of stars and constellations, and soft folds
Of tender darkness drawn,- then the wild things
Which roam in darkness woke, wandering afoot
Under the gloom. Horrid the forest grew
With roar and yelp and yell, around that place
Where Kripa, Kritavarman, and the son
Of Drona lay beneath the banian-tree,
Full many a piteous passage instancing
In their lost battle-day of dreadful blood;
Till sleep fell heavy on the wearied lids
Of Bhoja's child and Kripa. Then these lords,
To princely life and silken couches used,
Sought on the bare earth slumber, spent and sad,
As homeless outcasts lodge.

"But, O my King!
There came no sleep to Drona's angry son,
Great Aswatthâman. As a snake lies coiled
And hisses breathing, so his panting breath
Hissed rage and hatred round him, where he lay,
Chin uppermost, arm-pillowed, with fierce eyes
Roving the wood, and seeing sightlessly.
Thus chanced it that his wandering glances turned
Into the fig-tree's shadows, where there perched
A thousand crows, thick roosting, on its limbs, -
Some nested, some on branchlets, - deep asleep,
Heads under wings, all fearless; nor, O Prince!
Had Aswatthâman more than marked the birds,
When fierce there fell out of the velvet night,
Silent and terrible, an eagle-owl,
With wide, soft, deadly, dusky wings, and eyes
Flame-colored, and long claws, and dreadful beak,
Like a winged sprite, or great Garood himself.
Offspring of Bhârata! it lighted there
Upon the banian bough; hooted - but low -
The fury smothering in its throat, then fell
With murderous beak and claws upon those crows;
Rending the wings from this, the legs from that,
From some the heads, of some ripping the crops;
Till, tens and scores, the fowl rained down to earth
Bloody and plucked, and all the ground waxed black
With piled crow-carcasses; whilst that great owl
Hooted for joy of vengeance, and again
Spread the wide, deadly, dusky wings.

"Up sprang
The son of Drona: 'Lo! this owl,' quoth he,
'Teacheth me wisdom - lo! one slayeth so
Insolent foes asleep. The Kuru Lords
Are all too strong in arms by day to kill;
They triumph, being many. Yet I swore
Before the King, my father, I would kill
And kill, -even as a foolish fly should swear
To quench a flame. It scorched; and I shall die
If I dare open battle - but by art
Men vanquish fortune and the mightiest odds.
If there be two ways to a wise man's wish,
But only one way sure, he taketh that
And if it be an evil way, condemned
For Brahmans, yet the Kshattriya may do that
Which vengeance bids against his foes. Our foes
The Pandavas, are furious, treacherous, base,
Halting at nothing; and how say the wise
In holy Shasters? - "Wounded, wearied, fed,
Or fasting - sleeping, waking, setting forth,
Or new arriving; slay thine enemies!"
And so again: "At midnight, when they sleep;
Dawn, when they watch noon, if their leaders fall
Eve, should they scatter all the times and hours
Are times and hours good for killing foes."'
So did the son of Drona steel his soul
To break upon the sleeping Pandu chiefs
And slay them in the darkness. Being set
On this unlordly deed, and clear in scheme,
He from their slumbers roused the warriors twain,
Kripa and Kritavarman."