‘The heart is the most faithful witness that can testify:’*—[And]
‘The proof of the true Lover is in his sleeve:’

and it became certain that my hand prospered in the matter, and that I attained the reward due to one who fights against infidels.

And the Sayyids of Bárha,* and some youths of renown, performed in this battle (P. 232) such exploits as would have become Rastam;* and many slain on both sides strewed the plain. The other division of Ráná Kíká's army, under the Ráná in person, charged out of the pass, and meeting Qází Khán, who was at the entrance of the pass, swept his men before them, and bearing them along broke through his centre. Then the Shaikh-sons from Síkrí all fled at once. And an arrow struck Shaikh Mançur, (son-in-law of Shaikh Ibráhím) who was leader of this company, in the seat of honour as he was in the act of flight, and he bore the wound for a considerable time. But Qází Khán, although he was but a Mulla, stood his ground manfully, until receiving a cimetar blow on his right hand, which wounded his thumb, being no longer able to hold his own, he recited [the saying] ‘Flight from overwheling odds is one of the traditions of the pro­phet,’ and followed his men [in their retreat]. Those of the army who had fled on the first attack, did not draw rein till they had passed five or six cosses beyond the river. In the midst of all this confusion Mihtar Khán hastening up from the rear with his reserves, and beating his kettle-drums, called on the imperial troops to rally. And this shout of his was to a great extent the cause of the fugitives taking heart again, and making a stand. And Rájah Rámsháh of Gwályár (grandson of the famous Rájah Mán), who always kept in front of the Ráná, performed such prodigies of valour against the Rájpúts of Mán Singh, as baffle description. And these [Rájpúts of Mán Singh] were those who, on the left of the advance-body, fled, and thereby caused also the flight of Áçaf Khan,* and then took refuge with the Sayyids who were on the right; and, if the Sayyids had not held their ground firmly, such confusion did the retreating advance-body cause in their ranks, that the affair would have turned out a disgraceful defeat. And with regard to the elephants, when they made a charge on the elephants of the Imperial army, two strong must-elephants singled each other out and fought together. And Ḥusain Khán, leader of the elephants, who was riding on an elephant behind Mán Singh, also joined in the fight. And Mán Singh, springing into the place (P. 233) of the elephant-driver, exhibited such intrepidity as surpasses all imagination. And one of these two elephants, which was a private one of the Emperor's fought furiously with the Ráná's elephant (which was named Rám Parshád, and was of exceedingly strong build), and the two kept charging at one another, until by chance an arrow reached a mortal place in the driver of the Ráná's elephant, so that the shock of the charge threw him to the ground. Then the driver of the imperial elephant, with the greatest quickness and address, leapt from his own elephant, and took his seat on that of the Ráná, and performed such a deed as none other could have done. On seeing this circumstance the Ráná could no longer hold his ground, but left the ranks and fled, and confusion fell on the army of the Ráná. Then the young heroes, who acted as the body-guard of Mán Singh, performed such exploits as were a perfect model; and that day through the generalship of Mán Singh the meaning of this line of Mullá Shírí became known:

“A Hindú wields the sword of Islám.”

And the son of Jaimal of Chítór, and Rám Sháh Rájah of Gwályár with his own son Śálabhán, who showed extreme obstinacy of resistance, went to hell; and of the clan of the Rájpúts there was not left one fit to be his successor—Good riddance of bad rubbish!* And showers of arrows were poured on the Ráná, who was opposed to Mádhav Singh. And Ḥakím Súr,* who had fled before the Sayyids, retreated on the Ráná, and so the two divisions became one. Then the Ráná turned and fled, and betook himself to the high mountains, whither he had retreated after the conquest of Chítór, and there sought to shut himself up as in a fortress. And though it was so extremely hot, being during the forty midsummer-days, so that the very brain boiled in the cranium, they fought from early morning till midday. Nearly five hundred men were slain, and fell on the field of battle, of which number one hundred and fifty were of the people of Islam, and the rest Hindús.* And the number of the champions of Islám, who were wounded, (P. 234) exceeded three hundred. And when the air was like a furnace, and no power of movement was left in the soldiers, the idea became pre­valent, that the Ráná, by stealth and stratagem, would keep himself concealed behind the mountains. This was the reason why they made no pursuit, but retired to their tents and occupied themselves in the relief of the wounded. And the following was found to give the date:—

‘And victory from God appeared nigh’.*

The next day the army marched thence, and having looked over the battle-field to see how each had behaved, leaving Darah,* came to Kokandah.* And certain of the devoted servants of the Ráná, who were the guardians of his palace, and some of the inhabitants of the temples, in all amounting to twenty persons, in accordance with an ancient custom* of the Hindús, that, when they are compelled to evacuate a city, they should be killed in order to save their honour, coming out of their houses and temples performed the sacrificial rite, and by the stroke of their life-taking swords committed their souls to the keepers of hell. The Amírs, as security against a night-attack on the part of the Ráná, barracaded the streets, and drew a trench, and a wall of such a height that horsemen could not leap over it, round the city of Kokandah, and then settled down quietly. And they had a list drawn up containing the names of all the slain, and the horses killed in the action, intending to enclose it with the des­patch to the Emperor. Sayyid Aḥmad Khán Bárha said, ‘There has been no person, or horse, of ours killed, whose name you will have to report to the imperial government, so what is the good of writing them down? It is more important at the present moment to look after the Commissariat.’* Then, since there was in that mountain district but little arable land, and so but a seanty amount of corn was produced, and moreover the Banjárás* did not come, so that the army at that time was suffering from great scarcity, they set their wits to work to tackle the difficulty. Accordingly from time to time they singled out one of the Amírs in command, and commis­sioned him to bring corn into the lines, and wherever in the high hills and mountains (P. 235) they found many people congregated together, they broke them up and took them prisoners. And one had to sustain life upon the flesh of animals, and the mango-fruit. This latter grew there in such abundance as defies description. The common soldiers used to make a meal on it, fasting, in default of bread, and from its extreme juciness very many of them became ill. The mango-fruit was actually produced in that country of the weight of a sér akbarí* but for sweetness and flavour they are not up to much.

At this time Muḥammad Khán,* a special hanger-on of the Court, arrived from Court charged with an order to hasten to Kokandah, and examine the state of the battle-field.* The next day he went away, and having seen [from his investigation of the field] how every one had conducted himself he reported it to the Emperor. His Majesty was graciously pleased to be satisfied on the whole; only he was vexed at their having abandoned the pursuit of the Ráná, and so allowing him to remain alive. Then the Amírs wished to send to the Emperor the elephant, named Rám-parsád,* which had come into their hands with the spoil, (and which His Imperial Highness had several times demanded* of the Ráná, and he, unfor­tunately for him, had declined to surrender it) and together with it, the report of the victory to Court. Áçaf Khán mentioned the name of the Author, as a proper person to be sent with it, since he had been allowed to join the army through his being a particular favourite of his Majesty. Mán Singh answered [jocosely]: ‘There is a great deal of his work still left undone; he ought to come in front of the line and everywhere take the lead in battle.’ I answered: ‘My Imám-ship here is finished; my business now is to go and act as Imám before the ranks of His Imperial Highness.’ He was pleased and smiled, and sent me with the elephant, and appointed three hundred horsemen to accompany me by way of precaution. And he himself, taking advantage of the opportunity to enjoy himself in hunting, and to leave detached guards* in different places, came with me by very easy marches as far as the town of Mohaní, which is twenty cosses from Kokandah. There he furnished me with letters of commendation, and dismissed me to go to the Court. Thence, by way of Bák'hór, and Mándal Gaṛh, I arrived at Ambér* the home of Mán Singh. (P. 236) Wherever we passed, the circumstances of the battle were published, but the people would not credit our state­ments. By chance it happened, that at five cosses from Ambér the elephant sank into a morass, and the more it went forward, the deeper it sank in the clay. And since this was my first service of such a nature, I was in a terrible fix. At last the country people of the neighbourhood came up, and said, ‘Last year* at this very spot a royal elephant became bogged. Let them pour a quantity of water on the clay and mud, and then the royal elephant will come out easily enough. Accordingly the water-carriers* did so, and poured a quantity of water on, and the elephant became gradually extricated from the quagmire, and got to Ambér; and the exultation of those people reached the very heavens. The Author remained there three or four days, and then proceeded on his journey, by way of the town of Todah, which is his birth-place,* and Basáwar which bears this relation to him, that:—