Amid these sorrowful surroundings the gods gather and anoint Kumara, thus consecrating him as their general.
Fourteenth canto. The march.—Kumara prepares for battle, and marshals his army. He is followed by Indra riding on an elephant, Agni on a ram, Yama on a buffalo, a giant on a ghost, Varuna on a dolphin, and many other lesser gods. When all is ready, the army sets out on its dusty march.
Fifteenth canto. The two armies clash.—The demon Taraka is informed that the hostile army is approaching, but scorns the often-conquered Indra and the boy Kumara. Nevertheless, he prepares for battle, marshals his army, and sets forth to meet the gods. But he is beset by dreadful omens of evil.
For foul birds came, a horrid flock to see,
Above the army of the foes of heaven,
And dimmed the sun, awaiting ravenously
The feast of demon corpses to be given.And monstrous snakes, as black as powdered soot,
Spitting hot poison high into the air,
Brought terror to the army underfoot,
And crept and coiled and crawled before them there.The sun a sickly halo round him had;
Coiling within it frightened eyes could see
Great, writhing serpents, enviously glad
Because the demon's death so soon should be.And in the very circle of the sun
Were phantom jackals, snarling to be fed;
And with impatient haste they seemed to run
To drink the demon's blood in battle shed.There fell, with darting flame and blinding flash
Lighting the farthest heavens, from on high
A thunderbolt whose agonising crash
Brought fear and shuddering from a cloudless sky.There came a pelting rain of blazing coals
With blood and bones of dead men mingled in;
Smoke and weird flashes horrified their souls;
The sky was dusty grey like asses' skin.The elephants stumbled and the horses fell,
The footmen jostled, leaving each his post,
The ground beneath them trembled at the swell
Of ocean, when an earthquake shook the host.And dogs before them lifted muzzles foul
To see the sun that lit that awful day,
And pierced the ears of listeners with a howl
Dreadful yet pitiful, then slunk away.
Taraka's counsellors endeavour to persuade him to turn back, but he refuses; for timidity is not numbered among his faults. As he advances even worse portents appear, and finally warning voices from heaven call upon him to desist from his undertaking. The voices assure him of Kumara's prowess and inevitable victory; they advise him to make his peace while there is yet time. But Taraka's only answer is a defiance.
"You mighty gods that flit about in heaven
And take my foeman's part, what would you say?
Have you forgot so soon the torture given
By shafts of mine that never miss their way?Why should I fear before a six-days child?
Why should you prowl in heaven and gibber shrill,
Like dogs that in an autumn night run wild,
Like deer that sneak through forests, trembling still?The boy whom you have chosen as your chief
In vain upon his hermit-sire shall cry;
The upright die, if taken with a thief:
First you shall perish, then he too shall die."
And as Taraka emphasises his meaning by brandishing his great sword, the warning spirits flee, their knees knocking together. Taraka laughs horribly, then mounts his chariot, and advances against the army of the gods. On the other side the gods advance, and the two armies clash.
Sixteenth canto. The battle between gods and demons.—This canto is entirely taken up with the struggle between the two armies. A few stanzas are given here.
As pairs of champions stood forth
To test each other's fighting worth,
The bards who knew the family fame
Proclaimed aloud each mighty name.As ruthless weapons cut their way
Through quilted armour in the fray,
White tufts of cotton flew on high
Like hoary hairs upon the sky.Blood-dripping swords reflected bright
The sunbeams in that awful fight;
Fire-darting like the lightning-flash,
They showed how mighty heroes clash.The archers' arrows flew so fast,
As through a hostile breast they passed,
That they were buried in the ground,
No stain of blood upon them found.The swords that sheaths no longer clasped,
That hands of heroes firmly grasped,
Flashed out in glory through the fight,
As if they laughed in mad delight.And many a warrior's eager lance
Shone radiant in the eerie dance,
A curling, lapping tongue of death
To lick away the soldier's breath.Some, panting with a bloody thirst,
Fought toward the victim chosen first,
But had a reeking path to hew
Before they had him full in view.Great elephants, their drivers gone
And pierced with arrows, struggled on,
But sank at every step in mud
Made liquid by the streams of blood.The warriors falling in the fray,
Whose heads the sword had lopped away,
Were able still to fetch a blow
That slew the loud-exulting foe.The footmen thrown to Paradise
By elephants of monstrous size,
Were seized upon by nymphs above,
Exchanging battle-scenes for love.The lancer, charging at his foe,
Would pierce him through and bring him low,
And would not heed the hostile dart
That found a lodgment in his heart.The war-horse, though unguided, stopped
The moment that his rider dropped,
And wept above the lifeless head,
Still faithful to his master dead.Two lancers fell with mortal wound
And still they struggled on the ground;
With bristling hair, with brandished knife,
Each strove to end the other's life.Two slew each other in the fight;
To Paradise they took their flight;
There with a nymph they fell in love,
And still they fought in heaven above.Two souls there were that reached the sky;
From heights of heaven they could spy
Two writhing corpses on the plain,
And knew their headless forms again.
As the struggle comes to no decisive issue, Taraka seeks out the chief gods, and charges upon them.