When the Blessed Lord heard their piteous cry, he poised his bow and arrows and sallied out. Placing his army in the rear, Rama of resistless might strode out, full of indignation.

Pulling the string of his bow, he fitted a hundred arrows to it; they flew and sank into the demon’s body. When the arrows struck him, he rushed forth maddened by rage; the mountains reeled and the earth shook as he ran.

He tore up a hill, but the glory of the house of Raghu severed the arm that bore it. He then rushed forward with the hill in his left arm, but the Lord cut off that arm too and felled it to the ground.

The wretch thus shorn of his arms looked lie Mount Mandara without its wings. He cast a savage look on the Lord as though he would swallow up all the three spheres.

With a most terrible yell he rushed on with his mouth wide open. The adepts and gods in the skyey heaven shouted in great alarm, ‘Alas! Alas!’

When Raghunatha the All-merciful saw that the gods were much alarmed, he drew his bowstring right up to his ear and with multitudes of arrows filled the demon’s mouth, yet dropped not the valiant monster to the ground.

Though his mouth was full of arrows, he charged at the Lord like a living quiver of death. Then the Lord, infuriated, took a keen shaft and struck the demon’s head right off his trunk,