When Sultán Mahmúd had achieved the conquest of Somnát, he wished to stay there for a year because the country was very extensive and abounded with curiosities. There were numerous mines which also produced gold; and the rubies of Sarandíp (which was one of its dependencies) were carried to all countries. But his ministers persuaded him that it was highly impolitic to leave Khurásán, which had been conquered, after battling with so many powerful enemies, and to make Somnát the seat of government. In short, the King determined to return; and he ordered that some person should be appointed to govern and retain possession of the country. They represented that no more power or glory could be gained in that country, and therefore they proposed to him to entrust some native with the office. The Sultán consulted in the matter with such people of the country as were of a friendly disposition to him. Some of them told him that no chiefs of the country were equal to the family of Dábshilím, and that at that time only one person of that house was surviving, and he was engaged in worshipping God in the habit of a saint. He ought to have the governorship of the country. Others, however, objected to this, alleging that he was a man of a bad disposition, and had fallen under the wrath of God. He had not willingly taken retirement and devoted himself to worship, but he had been several times seized by his brothers, and in order to save his life he had taken refuge in a place of sanctity; but there was another Dábshilím, who was one of his relations, and who was a very wise, learned, and intelligent man, whom all respected for his philosophical acquirements. He was also at this time the chief of the principality. If the Sultán would appoint him governor and send a farmán to him, he might come and take upon him the management of the country. That he was also very honest and faithful in observing his promises; so that, notwithstanding the great distance which intervened, if he agreed to pay tribute, he would send it every year to Ghaznín. Ths King said if he presented himself before him the proposal might be accepted, but why should he give such a large kingdom to a person who had already borne the title of king in India, and had not yet come to meet him nor had proffered submission. In short, the devoted Dábshilím was called, and placed in charge of the kingdom. He agreed to pay a tribute, and promised never to act contrary to the King's orders as long as he lived, and also to forward all the gold and rubies which might be extracted from the mines to Ghaznín. But he said there was another Dábshilím among his relations, who was his bitter enemy, and on one occasion some bloodshed had even taken place between them. That he had no doubt this Dábshilím would come against him after hearing of the King's departure; and as he was not possessed of sufficient power, he must of course be overcome and lose the dominions. But if the King would now march against this enemy and remove the ground of fear, he would send annually a tribute to the treasury of Ghaznín equal to all the revenues of Khurásán, Zábulistán, and Kábulistán. The Sultán observed that he had come with the intention of making conquests, and since he had not returned to Ghaznín, he might as well therefore remain six months more. With this resolution he marched towards that Dábshilím's dominions. The people of the country, however, remarked to the pious Dábshilím that it was not proper for him to excite the King to invade his territory, because the person whom the Almighty had made great and powerful could not be subdued by his endeavours. This was also told to the King, who first hesitated, but as he had already marched his troops, he did not like to abandon his resolution. So he proceeded towards the enemy, and having conquered his country, took him prisoner, and gave him over to the pious Dábshilím, who represented that in his country it was considered a very great sin to kill a ruler, and if any king did commit the crime, all his army revolted against him. It was a custom among the kings of the country that when any of them prevailed over another and captured him, a dark room was made under the victor's throne, in which the captive ruler was placed on a cushion, and the doors of the room were shut. But a hole was made in one of them, and through it a dish of food was given to him, and then that also was shut. As long as the victorious king occupied the throne, it was his duty to send a dish of food every day to the subterranean abode, even if the captive died after only a few days' confinement. It happened that the prisoner lived many days. The pious Dábshilím said that as he could not keep him prisoner in this manner, he wished the Sultán would take the prisoner to Ghaznín, and that after he (the new ruler) had established his authority in the country, the captive might be sent back to be confined in the usual way. The King agreed to this, and returned. The pious Dábshilím mounted the throne of Somnát, and began to send successively to the Sultán the presents and rarities of the country; and he also ingratiated himself with all the ministers of his court by sending them presents. When he had confirmed himself in the governorship, he sent tribute, with some jewels, to the King, and asked him to send back his enemy to him. The Sultán at first hesitated in complying with his request, and was unwilling to render him up into the hands of his enemy; but as the devout Dábshilím had gained the favour of the ministers of the throne by his munificence, they all taxed the King with showing mercy to an infidel, and said that it was very improper for a king to act contrary to his promise. It was also to be apprehended that the pious Dábshilím might rebel, and the country be lost. At last the young prince was made over to the people of the pious Dábshilím, and farmáns were sent to the authorities in India to conduct him to the confines of Somnát. When he was taken to that country the pious Dábshilím ordered a dwelling to be made under the throne on which he used to sit. It was the custom among these people that when their enemy was brought near the metropolis of the kingdom, the ruler was to advance one march to receive him. He was also to put a dish and a vessel of water over his head, and make him go on foot before his horse till he arrived at court.* After this the King sat on the throne, and his enemy was taken to the subterraneous house, and there seated on a cushion. According to this custom Dábshilím went out; but it happened that the captive had not yet arrived. Dábshilím went out hunting, and exerted himself greatly in the field. When the hot wind began to blow, the soldiers and all the people sought shelter where they might rest, and Dábshilím also alighted and went to sleep under the shade of a tree, covering his face with a red handkerchief. In India there are plenty of birds of prey with hard claws and sharp bills. One of these birds came flying towards him, and when it saw the red handkerchief, it mistook it for a piece of flesh, and pouncing down on Dábshilíms' face, it tore out his eyes with his beak. This created great confusion among his people, and in the meantime the young captive was brought in. The pious Dábshilím was now blind and useless, and, since no other person beside this young man had a right to the governorship, all the people saluted him as their king, and the few persons who held aloof were seized. In short the same dish and vessel of water which were brought for this young chief were placed on the head of the pious Dábshilím, and he was forced to run to the court, where he was placed in the prison he had prepared.
The moral of this story is, the person who really deserves honour and respect cannot be disgraced by the endeavours of his enemy. If for a season he be degraded, he soon recovers his rank. But the envious person brings on himself ignominy and shame.