The Cambridge History of India, Vol. I: Ancient India v1.c25.99

v1.c25.99

The prince himself from the back of his huge elephant had seen his army turned to confusion around him. The Greek historians, to whom India must owe it, if she knows anything to-day about this her heroic son, observe that, unlike the Persian monarch in a similar case, he did not turn to flight. So long as any body of men in that seething mass preserved any appearance of order, the Paurava kept his elephant where the darts were flying. One gashed his bare right shoulder. When all hope was over, the royal elephant turned and made its way from the place of carnage. The Paurava had not gone far when a man came galloping after him. Coming within earshot, he shouted to the prince to have his elephant halted: he brought a message from the Yavana king. The Paurava recognised the hated face of the rāja of Takshaçilā. Then he turned round in his seat, and, with what strength his wounded arm could gather, threw a javelin². Āmbhi evaded it and galloped back to his overlord. Presently the Paurava was overtaken again by other horsemen, calling to him to stop and receive Alexander's message. Among them he saw a certain 'Meroes,' whom he believed to be still his friend. Loss of blood had brought on intolerable thirst. It came to the Paurava that he had done all that honour required, that he might yield to destiny. The elephant was halted and he alighted. The envoys of Alexander gave him to drink. Then he bade them conduct him to the king.