The Ramayana Part 176

In pomp and pride of warlike state They sallied from the southern gate, But saw, as on their way they sped, Dread signs around and overhead.

For there were meteors falling fast, Though not a cloud its shadow cast; And each ill-omened bird and beast, Forboding death, the fear increased, While many a giant slipped and reeled, Falling before he reached the field.

They met in mortal strife engaged, And long and fierce the battle raged.

Spears, swords uplifted, gleamed and flashed, And many a chief to earth was dashed.

A ceaseless storm of arrows rained, And limbs were pierced and blood-distained.

Terrific was the sound that filled The air, and every heart was chilled, As hurtling o'er the giants flew The rocks and trees which Vanars threw.

Fierce as a hungry lion when Unwary deer approach his den, Angad, his eyes with fury red, Waving a tree above his head, Rushed with wild charge which none could stay Where stood the giants' dense array.

Like tall trees levelled by the blast Before him fell the giants fast, And earth that streamed with blood was strown With warriors, steeds, and cars o'erthrown.

Canto LIV. Vajradanshtra's Death.

The giant leader fiercely rained His arrows and the fight maintained.

Each time the clanging cord he drew His certain shaft a Vanar slew.

Then, as the creatures he has made Fly to the Lord of Life for aid, To Angad for protection fled The Vanar hosts dispirited.

Then raged the battle fiercer yet When Angad and the giant met.

A hundred thousand arrows, hot With flames of fire, the giant shot; And every shaft he deftly sent His foeman's body pierced and rent.

From Angad's limbs ran floods of gore: A stately tree from earth he tore, Which, maddened as his gashes bled, He hurled at his opponent's head.

His bow the dauntless giant drew; To meet the tree swift arrows flew, Checked the huge missile's onward way, And harmless on the earth it lay.

A while the Vanar chieftain gazed, Then from the earth a rock he raised Rent from a thunder-splitten height, And cast it with resistless might.

The giant marked, and, mace in hand, Leapt from his chariot to the sand, Ere the rough ma.s.s descending broke The seat, the wheel, the pole and yoke.

Then Angad seized a shattered hill, Whereon the trees were flowering still, And with full force the jagged peak Fell crashing on the giant's cheek.

He staggered, reeled, and fell: the blood Gushed from the giant in a flood.

Reft of his might, each sense astray, A while upon the sand he lay.

But strength and wandering sense returned Again his eyes with fury burned, And with his mace upraised on high He wounded Angad on the thigh.

Then from his hand his mace he threw, And closer to his foeman drew.

Then with their fists they fought, and smote On brow and cheek and chest and throat.

Worn out with toil, their limbs bedewed, With blood, the strife they still renewed, Like Mercury and fiery Mars Met in fierce battle mid the stars.

A while the deadly fight was stayed: Each armed him with his trusty blade Whose sheath with tinkling bells supplied, And golden net, adorned his side; And grasped his ponderous leather shield To fight till one should fall or yield.

Unnumbered wounds they gave and took: Their wearied bodies reeled and shook.

At length upon the sand that drank Streams of their blood the warriors sank, But as a serpent rears his head Sore wounded by a peasant's tread, So Angad, fallen on his knees, Yet gathered strength his sword to seize; And, severed by the glittering blade, The giant's head on earth was laid.

[I omit Cantos LV, LVI, LVII, and LVIII, which relate how Akampan and Prahasta sally out and fall. There is little novelty of incident in these Cantos and the results are exactly the same as before. In Canto LV, Akampan, at the command of Rava?, leads forth his troops. Evil omens are seen and heard. The enemies meet, and many fall on each side, the Vanars transfixed with arrows, the Rakshases crushed with rocks and trees.

In Canto LVI Akampan sees that the Rakshases are worsted, and fights with redoubled rage and vigour. The Vanars fall fast under his "nets of arrows." Hanuman comes to the rescue. He throws mountain peaks at the giant which are dexterously stopped with flights of arrows; and at last beats him down and kills him with a tree.

In Canto LVII, Rava? is seriously alarmed. He declares that he himself, k.u.mbhakar?a or Prahasta, must go forth. Prahasta sallies out vaunting that the fowls of the air shall eat their fill of Vanar flesh.

In Canto LVIII, the two armies meet. Dire is the conflict; ceaseless is the rain of stones and arrows. At last Nila meets Prahasta and breaks his bow. Prahasta leaps from his car, and the giant and the Vanar fight on foot. Nila with a huge tree crushes his opponent who falls like a tree when its roots are cut.]

Canto LIX. Ravan's Sally.

They told him that the chief was killed, And Rava?'s breast with rage was filled.

Then, fiercely moved by wrath and pride, Thus to his lords the tyrant cried:

"No longer, n.o.bles, may we show This lofty scorn for such a foe By whom our bravest, with his train Of steeds and elephants, is slain.

Myself this day will take the field, And Raghu's sons their lives shall yield."

High on the royal car, that glowed With glory from his face, he rode; And tambour sh.e.l.l and drum pealed out, And joyful was each giant's shout.

A mighty host, with eyeb.a.l.l.s red Like flames of kindled fire, he led.

He pa.s.sed the city gate, and viewed, Arrayed, the Vanar mult.i.tude, Those wielding ma.s.sy rocks, and these Armed with the stems of uptorn trees, And Rama with his eyes aglow With warlike ardour viewed the foe, And thus the brave Vibhisha?, best Of weapon-wielding chiefs, addressed: "What captain leads this bright array Where lances gleam and banners play, And thousands armed with spear and sword Await the bidding of their lord?"

"Seest, thou," Vibhisha? answered, "one Whose face is as the morning sun, Preeminent for hugest frame?

Akampan(962) is the giant's name.

Behold that chieftain, chariot-borne, Whom Brahma's chosen gifts adorn.

He wields a bow like Indra's own; A lion on his flag is shown, His eyes with baleful fire are lit: 'Tis Rava?'s son, 'tis Indrajit.

There, brandishing in mighty hands His huge bow, Atikaya stands.

And that proud warrior o'er whose head A moon-bright canopy is spread: Whose might, in many a battle tried, Has tamed imperial Indra's pride; Who wears a crown of burnished gold, Is Lanka's lord the lofty-souled."

He ceased: and Rama knew his foe, And laid an arrow on his bow: "Woe to the wretch," he cried, "whom fate Abandons to my deadly hate."

He spoke, and, firm by Lakshma?'s side, The giant to the fray defied.

The lord of Lanka bade his train Of warriors by the gates remain, To guard the city from surprise By Rama's forest born allies.

Then as some monster of the sea Cleaves swift-advancing billows, he Charged with impetuous onset through The foe, and cleft the host in two.

Sugriva ran, the king to meet: A hill uprooted from its seat He hurled, with trees that graced the height Against the rover of the night: But cleft with shafts that checked its way Harmless upon the earth it lay.

Then fiercer Rava?'s fury grew, An arrow from his side he drew, Swift as a thunderbolt, aglow With fire, and launched it at the foe.

Through flesh and bone a way it found, And stretched Sugriva on the ground.

Sushe? and Nala saw him fall, Gavaksha, Gavaya heard their call, And, poising hills, in act to fling They charged amain the giant king.

They charged, they hurled the hills in vain, He checked them with his arrowy rain, And every brave a.s.sailant felt The piercing wounds his missiles dealt, Then smitten by the shafts that came Keen, fleet, and thick, with certain aim, They fled to Rama, sure defence Against the oppressor's violence, Then, reverent palm to palm applied, Thus Lakshma? to his brother cried: "To me, my lord, the task entrust To lay this giant in the dust."

"Go, then," said Rama, "bravely fight; Beat down this rover of the night.

But he, unmatched in bold emprise, Fears not the Lord of earth and skies, Keep on thy guard: with keenest eye Thy moments of attack espy.

Let hand and eye in due accord Protect thee with the bow and sword."

Then Lakshma? round his brother threw His mighty arms in honour due, Bent lowly down his reverent head, And onward to the battle sped.

Hanuman from afar beheld How Rava?'s shafts the Vanars quelled: To meet the giant's car he ran, Raised his right arm and thus began: "If Brahma's boon thy life has screened From Yaksha, G.o.d, Gandharva, fiend, With these contending fear no ill, But tremble at a Vanar still."

With fury flashing from his eye The lord of Lanka made reply: "Strike, Vanar, strike: the fray begin, And hope eternal fame to win.

This arm shall prove thee in the strife And end thy glory and thy life."

"Remember," cried the Wind-G.o.d's son, "Remember all that I have done, My prowess, King, thou knowest well, Shown in the fight when Aksha(963) fell."

With heavy hand the giant smote Hanuman on the chest and throat, Who reeled and staggered to and fro, Stunned for a moment by the blow.

Till, mustering strength, his hand he reared And struck the foe whom Indra feared.

His huge limbs bent beneath the shock, As mountains, in an earthquake, rock, And from the G.o.ds and sages pealed Shouts of loud triumph as he reeled.

But strength returning nerved his frame: His eyeb.a.l.l.s flashed with fiercer flame.

No living creature might resist That blow of his tremendous fist Which fell upon Hanuman's flank: And to the ground the Vanar sank, No sign of life his body showed: And Rava? in his chariot rode At Nila; and his arrowy rain Fell on the captain and his train.

Fierce Nila stayed his Vanar band, And, heaving with his single hand A mountain peak, with vigorous swing Hurled the huge missile at the king.

Hanuman life and strength regained, Burned for the fight and thus complained: "Why, coward giant, didst thou flee And leave the doubtful fight with me?"

Seven mighty arrows keen and fleet The giant launched, the hill to meet; And, all its force and fury stayed, The harmless ma.s.s on earth was laid.

Enraged the Vanar chief beheld The mountain peak by force repelled, And rained upon the foe a shower Of trees uptorn with branch and flower.

Still his keen shafts which pierced and rent Each flying tree the giant sent: Still was the Vanar doomed to feel The tempest of the winged steel.

Then, smarting from that arrowy storm, The Vanar chief condensed his form,(964) And lightly leaping from the ground On Rava?'s standard footing found; Then springing unimpeded down Stood on his bow and golden crown.

The Vanar's nimble leaps amazed Ikshvaku's son who stood and gazed.