XXIV.

There was the hero, with both his shoulders covered, {118a} By a variegated shield, and possessing the swiftness of a warlike steed; There was a noise in the mount of slaughter, {118b} there was fire, {118c} Impetuous were the lances, there was a sunny gleam, {118d} There was food for ravens, the raven there did triumph, {118e} And before he would let them go free, With the morning dew, like the eagle in his glad course, He scattered them on either side, and like a billow overwhelmed them in front. The Bards of the world judge those to be men of valour, Whose counsels are not divulged to slaves. {119a} The spears in the hands of the warriors were causing devastation; And ere was interred under {119b} the swan-white steed, {119c} One who had been energetic in his commands, His gore had thoroughly washed his armour: {119d} Such was Buddvan, {119e} the son of Bleiddvan the Bold.