IN the beginning of Rajab of the year 920, the Khán disposed his troops round the citadel of Yángi-Hisár, and pitched his camp so close to it, that if gaz-long arrows had been aimed at his tent from the top of the citadel, they might have reached the edge of the cliff under which he had camped. The intrenchments [murchal] were arranged on the following plan. On the north side there was no need for intrenchments, because the fort was situated on the top of a cliff, which ended in a sheer precipice. Mines would there take no effect, while to ascend the cliff was impossible. For these reasons trenches were useless on the north side. The first tower on the west, was taken in hand by the Khán himself and the warriors of the centre, who were always in attendance upon him; these belonged to no particular regiment, but their names have been mentioned above. Another tower on the same side—west of the Khán's—was entrusted to me, and to my right were Mirzá Ali Taghái, Kutluk Mirak Mirzá, and Babrika Mirzá, who, together, were laying a mine. Beyond them, Bábá Sárik Mirzá and Shahbáz Mirzá, and a body of Báhrin, had charge of another. Farther on again, were Mirzá Muhammad Beg and Beg Muhammad Beg, who had chosen [a site for] a third. Beyond them was a tower, the gate of which looked due south. To this tower were appointed Jánka Mirzá and Bishka Mirzá; while on the south side Munka Beg had charge of another mine. At his side was yet another, under the supervision of Mir Muhammad, who had lately succeeded to the position held by Mir Ayub. Near him was Mir Kambar, then came Ali Mirák Barlás, next Mir Dáim, next Kará Kulák Mirzá, then my uncle; and beyond him was the eastern gate of the citadel, which side, like the northern, overlooks a precipice. For five days and nights all our energies were devoted to digging and advancing galleries.

The first mine that was ready to be tried was the Khán's. It went off at midnight, and that tower which had raised itself to the skies, now fell with a crash, level with the ground; but part of the original wall was left standing. On that day every one exerted himself to the utmost, and the mines were so far advanced, as to be ready to blow up the walls with very little further labour. [The strongest of all the towers was the one] given to Jánka Mirzá and Bishka Mirzá to undermine, but they made cracks along the wall for a distance of about sixty gaz.

While the siege was thus proceeding, one of Khwája Ali Bahá-dur's men brought in a certain Alika and a few generals. This Alika was the son of the commander of the citadel, who was called Amin Dárugha, and who was one of Mirzá Abá Bakr's most distin­guished Amirs. To him had been committed the entire charge of the citadel of Yángi-Hisár. It came about in this way. Mirzá Abá Bakr had collected a force in Yárkand and had amassed a quantity of arms, hoping to come and relieve Yángi-Hisár. He then detached a body of picked men and sent them off to reconnoitre at Kizil, with orders to bring back any news they might learn, so that he might form his plans accordingly. This body was under the command of Pir Ali Beg, the brother of Vali Beg, who has been alluded to already. On reaching Kizil, they found that a party of Moghuls were reconnoitring in the same district. Having ascertained his exact position, they fell upon Khwája Ali Bahádur unexpectedly, the same night. The horsemen were sleeping soundly, when the din of giving and taking of blows, war cries, and trumpets startled them from their slumbers. [Verses] … It was a pitch dark night—neither moon nor stars were visible— nor could friend be distinguished from enemy. [Two couplets] … All who awoke were mad with confusion at the alarm, and were unable to collect their thoughts sufficiently to realise what was passing, so all fled in dismay, excepting Khwája Ali Bahádur, who did not lose his presence of mind, but stood his ground firmly, and called out to his followers by name. All who heard his voice rallied to his side, till at length a good number were gathered round him, and they too began to call their war-cry loudly. Some of those who had been stupefied by the sudden awakening, now recovered their senses, and on listening attentively, heard the voices calling the war-cry. On this their courage was renewed, and they went and rejoined Khwája Ali Bahádur. They dis­charged their arrows in the dark, and fought on till the brightness of dawn overcame the shadows of night, when by that light the combatants began to see [the real state of things]. The enemy became aware of their small numbers, while our men saw their own superiority.

Pir Ali Beg had but a hundred men with him, while Khwája Ali Bahádur had three hundred. Since in the darkness they had become confused and disordered, Pir Ali Beg saw that flight would be a cowardly death, while to hold his ground was to die nobly. Near to that spot was a garden; within this he tried to defend himself. Ere the sun had reached the meridian, the sun of the lives of those men had set. Out of a hundred, only two escaped to bear the news that the rest of their party had perished, The above-mentioned Alika had been wounded in the fight. To prevent his giving information, they did not send him back to his friends, but despatched him to the Khán with the heads of the slain hung round his neck—the throats running with blood. He reached the Khán at midday, and the heads of those generals were sent into the citadel as a gift. Alika was then asked for news. He replied: “Mirzá Abá Bakr has made all the necessary preparations for an expedition. All the people know that he has got horses, and arms of every kind, such as coats of mail, horse-armour, and so forth; that nothing is wanting—nay, rather there is a superabun­dance of all such things. But he has no generals—no renowned Amirs or brave warriors, whose strength and judgment are the very foundations of true sovereignty. For all of these, he has himself put to death. And now, in order to complete his army, he is obliged to choose men from among the peasantry, artizans and market-people, making one a Vazir, another an Amir: the first a Mir and the second a councillor. The rustic who has spent his life with his hand on the plough, and has never done any work but ploughing, how can he begin to wield a sword or hold the reins of government? Though he may try ever so hard, I am sure he cannot succeed; such foolish ideas can come to nothing.” And he laid much stress upon the improbability of Mirzá Abá Bakr advancing. [Our] people, however, did not fully trust his words, but suspected that this man, drowning in the whirlpool of misfortune, was employing flattery as a means of reaching the shore of salvation.

About evening prayer time, one of Khwája Ali Bahádur's fol­lowers brought in another man who had come to him in flight. This fugitive reported that Mirzá Abá Bakr, having mustered an army, had advanced two farsákhs out of Yárkand, when he deserted him. Many were loth to believe this also, and imagined it to be a trick on the part of Mirza Abá Bakr, by which he hoped to retard the operations against the citadel of Yángi-Hisár; so they tortured this informant till he died, but he persisted in his story to the end, and then they believed it.

All the Amirs were for raising the siege that same night, and for marching out to meet and engage Mirzá Abá Bakr, before he should be joined by the armies of Káshghar and Yángi-Hisár. But the Khán said: “I intend to remain at the foot of this cliff until Mirzá Abá Bakr comes, and to aim my arrows at the citadel and at Mirzá Abá Bakr, until I am killed on this spot. Those who do not [wish to] follow my example, let them do what they like.” When the Khán had said this, all knelt down before him, saying: “May your exalted majesty's road be [strewed] with our lives as a thousand sacrifices! Who is there among us who holds his own wretched existence more dear than the precious life of the Khán, or thinks of his own personal safety first, in this undertaking?” Then all again set to work, with contented hearts, at the mines.

At daybreak of the sixth day of the siege, the Khán rode round all the trenches and infused his own enthusiasm into the hearts of his Amirs and soldiers: praising those who had exerted themselves, and ordering to be whipped any who had been remiss. In this manner did he pass round the citadel. As he approached the trench of my uncle, some one called out from the top of the citadel. They listened. He was saying: “Let one of the followers of Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá come forward; I have something to tell him.” Thereupon a man was sent forward, who [however] asked whether Kukildásh Mirzá Ali Sayyid Bahádur was there, [and if so] had they not better send him [to parley]? [So they sent him.] After a short time Ali Sayyid returned reporting that Amin Dárugha had spoken as follows: “Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá is Mirzá Abá Bakr's brother. For generations past I and my sons have been their servants. In our loyalty we have, during three months, been in peril of our lives, in spite of never having enjoyed during forty years, a moment's security from Mirzá Abá Bakr. Those whom he wished to kill he killed, and those who were left alive were all subjected to violent punishments, such as castration—that is to say, depriving of virility—cutting off the hands and feet, putting out eyes, and the like. All were sure to be exposed to some calamity. In spite of all this, I felt it still my duty to remain loyal. Now it has come to a question of life and death; the knife has reached the bone. If Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá will forget our enmity, forgive our sins, and spare our lives and our goods, we will deliver the citadel into his hands and become his vassals.” When the Khán heard this message he was overjoyed, and sent Ali Sayyid back, saying that their offer was accepted.