AFTER the victorious Khán had settled all his important affairs in Yárkand, it was discovered that Mirzá Jahángir had not followed his father into Tibet, but that he had settled down in the district of Sánju. The Khán, thereupon, sent my uncle to bring back his nephew, by some means or other. When my uncle reached Sánju, Mirzá Jahángir came out to receive him, offering rich gifts, and said to him: “It is evident to all, that during my father's reign I lived in retirement and in mortal dread of him. During all that time, I did not enjoy a single moment's security or freedom from anxiety. Fear of violence had always made me seek seclusion, and thus the eye of my nature became closed to the splendours of wealth and rank, and I have always been obliged to drink from the cup of dissatisfaction. When the evil foundations of my father's realm began to give way, and his power to crumble from the earthquakes caused by the Khán's forces, he drew me forth from my corner of seclusion, and set me upon the throne of pomp. And I, who during forty-two years, being in fear and trembling for my life, had never gained any experience of the world, how could I suddenly be expected to supervise a whole State? Besides these difficulties, it was my father's constant practice, whenever he stripped one of his children of the garments of life, to lament the unfortunate victim in my presence, saying: ‘He was a full grown youth. I dreaded lest he might treat me as Shiruya treated Khusrau and Abdul Latif Mirzá treated Ulugh Beg Mirza.’* Hearing such things as this, I endeavoured to the utmost, for the sake of my personal safety, to appear very inefficient in my behaviour. How shall I, who have thus spent forty-two years in cultivating ineptitude and helplessness, revive, in one moment, the welfare of a State which [my father] himself has ruined? More­over, I had no information concerning any of my father's affairs. Nor has any one ever experienced so much as an inconvenience, at my hands. Whatever the people have suffered is due to my father. They do not blame me, nor hold me responsible for his sins. Let me now go to the Khán, and spend the rest of my days in his service.” Words of abject humility, such as these, and many more like them, he continued to pour forth; but my uncle comforted him, and conveyed him, together with much treasure and many horses, before the Khán.

Mirzá Jahángir was born of one of the daughters of Isán Bughá Khán, the youngest brother of Yunus Khán, who was the Khán's grandfather. At the time when Mirzá Abá Bakr captured Aksu, the residence of Alácha Khán (which event has been fully described above), the fourth daughter of Alácha Khán fell into his hands. And he took care of her and treated her with great honour. When she was of age, he gave her in marriage to his son Jahángir Mirzá. The latter, arriving now in the Khán's presence, was received with respect, and this fourth daughter of Alácha Khán, whose name was Khadija Sultán Khánim, also joined the Khán, whose full-sister she was. The Khán showed favour to Jahángir Mirzá, in accordance with the verse, “I will not ascribe to thee the sins of others”; and ignoring the cruelties and hideous deeds of his father, entered him among the men of trust around his person, and promised that feasts should be celebrated in honour of Khadija out of regard for her noble birth.

One night towards the end of that winter, Jahángir Mirzá was killed in Yángi-Hisár, together with several of his followers. It was never known who committed this deed. Every one had his own suspicions, but God alone knows the truth. Mirzá Abá Bakr had many children. Several of his grown up sons he had put to death, with the most horrible tortures, for totally inadequate reasons. Of those that survived, the eldest and most honourable was Jahángir Mirzá, whose fate has been related. There were two other sons, named Turángir Mirza and Bustángir Mirza, the children of the daughter of Mirzá Sultán Mahmud, son of Mirzá Sultán Abu Said.

In the spring following the winter in which Jahángir Mirzá had been murdered, a person was sent to Tibet to bring back the family of Mirzá Abá Bakr; his wife, Khánzáda Begum, and her elder son, Turángir Mirza, were thus brought to Káshghar. In conformity with the custom of the Yanga, she was married to my uncle, while Turángir remained in the Khán's service, until he was drowned in the river.

Bustángir Mirza did not accompany his mother and brother. He went from Tibet to Kashmir and thence into Hindustán. (At that time Bábar Pádisháh had not conquered Hindustán.) From Hindustán he retired to Kábul, but although he was [the son of the daughter of the Emperor's uncle], his father's misdeeds made him repulsive to the Emperor, so that he could not stay in Kábul, but fled into Badakhshán, to Mirzá Khán, who was his maternal uncle. Mirzá Khán, however, instead of showing him the affection of an uncle, displayed hostility towards him on account of his father, Mirzá Abá Bakr; so that he was forced to fly from him also, and betake himself to the Uzbeg Shaibán. Suyunjuk Khán received him with the utmost courtesy and honour, saying: “He is a human being, and it is incumbent on us to treat him with kindness.”

He is still about Andiján and Táshkand, where he enjoys high distinction, and is famous among the Uzbeg for his honourable conduct.