Mbh 7.165.1c

[221] Like the wind dispersing mighty masses of clouds, Drona’s son, O king, without his senses being agitated, destroyed with his own terrible arrows, inspired by mantras with the force of celestial weapons, that fierce, unbearable and unrivalled shower of weapons, whose sound resembled the roar of thunder, and which fell incessantly upon him. It seemed then that another encounter was taking place in the welkin between weapons (as the combatants), which was terrible, and which, O king, filled the warriors with awe. With the sparks all around, generated by the clash of the weapons, shot by those two warriors, the welkin looked beautiful as illumined by myriads of fire-flies in the evening. Drona’s son then, filling all the points of the compass with his shafts, shrouded the Rakshasa himself, for doing what was agreeable to thy sons. Then commenced a battle once more between Drona’s son and the Rakshasa on that night of thick darkness, which resembled the encounter between Sakra and Prahlada. Then Ghatotkacha, filled with rage, struck Drona’s son, in that battle, on the chest with ten shafts, each resembling the Yuga-fire. Deeply pierced by the Rakshasa, the mighty son of Drona began to tremble in that battle like a tall tree shaken by the wind. Supporting himself by holding the flagstaff, he swooned away. Then all thy troops, O king, uttered cries of Oh and Alas. Indeed, O monarch, all thy warriors then regarded Drona’s son as slain. Beholding Aswatthaman in that plight, the Panchalas and the Srinjayas in that battle uttered leonine roars. Then that crusher of foes, viz., the mighty car-warrior Aswatthaman, recovering his senses, forcibly drawing the bow with his left hand, stretching the bowstring to his ear, quickly shot a terrible shaft resembling the rod of Yama himself, aiming at Ghatotkacha. That excellent shaft, fierce and equipped with golden wings, piercing through the chest of the Rakshasa, entered the earth, O king.