IT has been already related that in Rajab of the year 915,* I left Mirzá Khán and proceeded to Kábul, to be honoured by the blessed glance of the Emperor, who welcomed and entertained me with the warmest affection. In public he ranked me with his brothers and nephews; but in private he regarded me with a truly paternal eye, as one of his own children, and I was the special object of his fatherly sympathy. So much did he comfort me, that he entirely banished from my mind the bitterness of orphanage, and grief at separation from my friends. Thus did I pass my time in perfect ease and contentment. In the meanwhile the Emperor resolved to lead an army against Kunduz, as has been already mentioned. It was the season of the polar star, and in the rigour of Dai,* when he said to me, with great affection: “The difficulty of the road and the coldness of the air are extreme. [You had better] stop in Kábul this winter. When spring comes, and the air is cleared of the bitter cold, you can come to me.” But I remonstrated with him, saying: “In this country, it is the consideration and kindness of the Emperor which have enabled me to endure the bitterness of my desolation. If the Emperor leaves me behind, to whom shall I turn for comfort?” When he saw that to insist upon my re­maining behind, in Kábul, would prey upon my mind and break my heart, he ordered such preparations for my journey to be made as the limited time allowed, and permitted me to accompany him to Kunduz.

As many of my father's old followers were among the Moghuls, they all hastened, at this crisis, to enter my service, bringing with them such presents and offerings as their circumstances admitted. In short, I was well equipped with arms and men. More especially [I must mention] my foster-father, Ján Ahmad Ataka, whose name will frequently occur hereafter, in its proper place; he, together with the rest of my father's old retainers, attached himself to me. This Ataka was a trustworthy man, and had distinguished himself by his personal exploits at the time of the Uzbeg ascendency. He had made a goodly collection of horses and arms, which he put at my service. It was thus that he was employed until the winter, when [the Emperor] led his army into the Dasht-i-Kulak, as has been mentioned. I personally accompanied that expedition. On our return from the Dasht-i-Kulak, in the spring, the Emperor sent the Khán to Andiján. The Khán was very anxious to take me with him in his service, and, I for my part, had a strong desire to go. But when I asked leave of the Emperor, his blessed heart became heavy, and he put all such ideas on one side. Thus the Khán went to Andiján, while I remained in the service of the Emperor.

Soon after this, followed the campaign of Hisár, in which the battle with Hamza Sultán and the defeat of the Uzbeg occurred. In the former engagement, the aforesaid Ján Ahmad Ataka led my men into battle, and having captured one of the Uzbeg chiefs alive, brought him to the Emperor, who promised him a reward for his bravery [juldu],* saying: “This is Mirzá Haidar's first exploit, and is a good omen.” He then ordered them to record the juldu in the book, under Mirzá Haidar's name. This story has been already related.

I was with the Emperor when he captured Samarkand. In mentioning my father's children, I said that the eldest of all was Habiba Sultán Khánish; [she was my full sister] and had fallen to Ubaid Ullah Khán. When Ubaid Ullah fled from Karshi to Bokhárá and entered Turkistán, he was not able to look after his own family properly. Every one who could find means to make that difficult journey went; those who could not, stayed behind. Among these last was my sister, Habiba Sultán Khánish, whom I joined in Bokhárá. We then came to Samarkand, where we found my uncle, who had come, that winter, from the Khán in Andiján, on business of the State. Having settled his affairs to the best of his powers, he returned to Andiján, taking with him my sister, whom on his arrival he gave in marriage to the Khán.

In the spring of that year, when the Emperor went to encounter Ubaid Ullah Khán at the battle of Kul Malik, I was detained in Samarkand by an access of fever. When the Emperor retired to Samarkand discomfited, and then again departed [being unable to remain there], I was in a state of convalescence; nevertheless, I continued to follow him to Hisár. The Khán sent messengers several times to the Emperor to fetch me, and at last, displeased and irritated, he gave me leave to go. In my childish folly I did not (as it was my duty to do) pay attention to the Emperor's consent [but determined to go to Andiján]. Thus, on the arrival of Mir Najm, the Emperor mounted his horse and joined the expedition, while I set out for Andiján. I have already mentioned how the Emperor joined Mir Najm. I [as I say] went to Andiján; but before reaching my destination, the Khán* had been put to rout by Suyunjuk Khán, and returned to Andiján just as I arrived there. This occurred in Rajab of the year 918. From that date to the day of the Khán's death, in Zulhijja 939,* I remained con­stantly in his service, and was all the while distinguished by his regard and liberality. In short, until he conferred upon me the rank of Kurkáni, I was never absent from him. At night, where-ever his bed was spread, one was also spread for my convenience, at his side. At royal banquets, the right hand of my fortune was joined to the left hand of the Khán's favour. Whenever a con­sultation was held, my uncle was sure to be at the head of the meeting [sar-i-daftar], but he gave me precedence over my uncle; nay more, he did so at the request of my uncle, who used frequently to point out to the Khán that [although] I was only the son of his brother, still he recognised that my precedence over him was not only proper, but necessary. When he rode out, I always rode at his side; and when he went hunting, he used to instruct me in the sport [and initiate me into its secrets and subtleties]. He used to lead the hunt himself, for he was a keen sportsman. He never allowed me out of his sight, but used to persuade me to go hunting with him, and if ever I showed any reluctance, he would compel me to enjoy it. He used to set me various tasks to do, at the same time pointing out what benefit I should derive [from doing them], and would say: “Until young men begin to perform duties, they can never gain experience. [Otherwise] in important affairs and in large assemblies, in mosques and in the battlefield, where the leaders of the people, whether Khákáns or Sultáns or Amirs, take part, they become confused, and meet with opposition from their people. But when young men practise themselves in the business of their elders, they gain insight into the particulars of their various duties, and in all such matters as wars and the like, they acquire a certain confidence. This self-reliance gains for them the esteem of the people, which strengthens their authority. In the performance of these duties they learn to recognise their own merits and demerits, and to judge of the best modes of action.

“While in the service of my father and my uncle, I had these principles indelibly engraved upon my heart, and they used to make me perform numerous duties, that I might turn the advan­tages derived from them to the best possible account. What I learnt from my elders I now am teaching you, that you, in turn, may also profit by it.”

Till the age of twenty-four, I was employed in every kind of service, and all that the Khán gave me to do, both great things and small, I carried out single-handed. But if, even in the councils of the Amirs, in which I had my special place, an opportunity of some service presented itself to me, the Khán would forbid my performing it, saying: “In the battlefield you must remember your rank, so that you may not fall in the estimation of the people.” When I was between twenty-four and twenty-five years of age, he bade me desist from all these services, and said: “All that I have given you to do, you have done well. Now you can return to your favourite pursuits.” Thereafter, till the age of thirty, he entrusted to me the affairs of the army. But he caused me to be attended by men of judgment and experienced Amirs, and instructed me never to deviate from what they considered right, but to follow them in all matters. When several campaigns [lashkar] had been carried through in this way, he gave me leave to speak my mind in debates and plans of action. Up to the age of thirty I had never received this permission, nor had I ever spoken in an assembly, but had always remained silent. After sanction was accorded me, however, I spoke much, and whenever I used to speak in the assemblies, the Khán would say to me: “Explain this matter more fully, give us your proofs and your reasonings.” If I explained myself well and said what was fitting, he would praise me, and desire the people to applaud; and when I did not say exactly what was right, he would add: “What he means to say is so-and-so”; and thus would improve my words and satisfy the Amirs.

When some time had passed in this way, he said to me: “I have now learnt to rely on you thoroughly;” he then entrusted to me the entire management of the army and the direction of the govern­ment, giving me, in these matters, absolute freedom of action, together with sanction to issue mandates and firmáns. When I returned from my expedition into Kashmir, and came to kiss the Khán's feet in Tibet,* he called me by no other name than “brother,” both in private and in public. The details connected with [these events] will be given in the account of the Khán. I shall not record the rest of my own life until I have related the end of his.