Dáhar sent for his wazir Budhiman and told him: “Daharsiah shows so much friendliness and courtesy that, my mind suggests I should go out and secure the good­will of my elder brother. I think he will not be annoyed with me, or reject my apology.” The wazir said: “O king you should not believe his word. Be not deceived by his tricks and his flatteries, and mind not what he says; because kings are crafty, and oaths and solemn affirma­tions are but their traps of treachery, with which they catch their enemy. They speak soft and low and play many a tune, simply to gain their object. Among the rules of conduct (prescribed) for kings, one is that an enemy should be reduced to submission by tricks and deceit. You ought, therefore, to act (with due vigilance). No means of escape are available to him who falls into the net of calamity. (If you trust him) you will certainly be afflicted and injured by Daharsiah, and you will find yourself caught in the trap of disaster and confined in the cage of trouble and misery, and will not again have any means of setting yourself at liberty.” Dáhar said: “Though there is a risk, and one cannot be sure of safety, a brother is after all a brother.” He then sent word to Daharsiah to the effect that he (Dáhar) was ready to agree to his proposal and come out to meet him, if Daharsiah would give him assurance of his safety. Prince Daharsiah thereupon wrote a letter, in which he took an oath in very strong terms, and said: “In order to win your trust I will come alone to see you, while you may come out with your whole retinue.” Both of them agreed to this condition, and appointed the time and place of meeting. Next day, when the disc of the sun, in the firmanent, arose in the east, and the world threw off from its shoulders the sable cloak (of night), Daharsiah sat on an elephant, and entered the town of Alór by the western gate. The town officer (kótwál) sent a trustworthy per­son to Dáhar, informing him that Daharsiah had come to the door of the fort and asking for orders Dáhar ordered the door to be opened, and Daharsiah admitted alone. Accordingly Daharsiah was brought in. Dáhar now called wazir Budhiman and said to him: “Daharsiah is come into the fort; now that he has come, I should undoubt­edly go to him. Even if he requires me to go out with him, I will not disobey him. What is your opinion in this matter?” The wazir said: “You should not depend upon his word. From what I have heard from his troopers, it appears that he intends to behave treacher­ously. In the first place, it was a mistake to bring him into the fort. Now when he has once come in, if you do not think it proper to kill him, at least put him into prison and keep him confined there, till a settlement is made between you both on solemn conditions. Other­wise the fate of this kingdom will be different from what you wish it to be. (Be good enough) to hear my counsel; your views on this matter are far from being right.”

Dáhar paid no heed to the words (of his wazir), and Daharsiah came riding on his elephant to the very door of the palace. Dáhar ran to him on foot, and wel­comed him in respectful terms, and asked him to dismount and enter the palace. But Dahar-siah replied: “I will not dismount. Come and take your seat here on the elephant that we may go out, and sit together for a while and talk of our joys and griefs, so that the people, noble as well as common, may know that there are no quarrels or differences between us, that we are reconciled again, and that no malice or calumny will ever find a way to part us. This news will spread throughout the world, and our enemies will all be ashamed and depressed, and our friends will be highly pleased and satisfied. After we have enjoyed each other's company and conversation, you may safely return to your palace.” Dáhar did not hesitate to comply with his request, and was ready to do as his brother wished. Wazir Budhiman thereupon felt much grieved, and became very anxious as to the final result of this trick of Daharsiah. The latter now ordered his elephant driver to move the animal forward so that Dáhar might take his seat, and wazir Budhiman (then) immedi­ately mounted his horse and rode on by the side of his master, till he arrived near the gate. Dáhar now repent­ed, and, feeling afraid, turned towards the wazir Budhiman, and whispered to him: “What is your opinion? I do not think it right to go out.” The wazir replied: “You have obstinately rejected my counsel. You have not followed the methods of Nahush and Constantine, and you now want Kananj” (that is want me to do the impossible).* “Make haste,” urged Dáhar, “say, what plan I should resort to, as my mind does not encourage me to go out.” “There is no other plan,” replied the wazir, “than that when you come to the gate, hold fast to its upper part, and detach yourself from the elephant, so that the animal may pass out, and we will then close the door and take you down.” Dáhar liked this plan: (so) when he came to the gate and the front half of the elephant passed out, Dáhar stretched his hands and caught hold of the top of the door frame and detached himself from the elephant. The elephant passed out and Budhiman closed the gate of the fort and Dáhar was gently taken down. When Daharsiah looked back he did not see Dáhar and found the gate of the fort closed fast. He then became very sad and returned deject­ed to his camp, and then, as soon as he dismounted from the elephant, he was attacked by fever. On the next day, small-pox* appeared on his person, and on the fourth day he died, and gave his dear soul to the winds (of heaven).

When Dáhar received the news of this sad event, he wished to go out to cremate the corpse of his brother, and perform his obsequies. (But) wazir Budhi-man said to him: “May the king live long! Do not be in a hurry, for kings, sometimes, play tricks of this sort, and pretend death. When you go to attend his funeral ceremonies, he will undo you; and when once you are in his clutches, it will be vain to regret and to lament. There is a parable in this connection. When a fox is tired of waiting for its victim, it makes believe it is dead, in order that carrion-eaters might collect (to eat its apparently dead body). Then it jumps up, and catches them, and eats them. A king should never consider himself safe from an enemy. You had better send a con­fidential servant first to investigate and to enquire, so that the truth may co??e out.”* Accordingly a trustworthy person was despatched (to Daharsiah's camp). He found all his grandees and nobles in sorrow and mourning, according to the custom of the time. He approached them and said: “I am sent by king Dáhar to enquire after the health of Daharsiah, and I see you all mourning; pray, what is the matter?” Two of the nobles arose, and led him to where Daharsiah was lying, in order that he might see for himself. (Finding that Daharsiah was dead) he expressed great grief. The nobles gave Daharsiah's ring to the messenger as a proof of the truth of the sad news, and sent him back. When the messenger communicated the sorrowful news to Dáhar and gave him the ring, the latter, without any more thought or delay, came out with all his friends and nobles, and, crossing the waters of the Mehrán, arrived at the camping ground. He entered his brother's tent, and, when he saw him (lying dead), he tore his clothes (out of grief), threw off his turban, and took to mourning with cries and groans. He then ordered a large quantity of sandal-wood to be collected, and with it he burnt the dead body of Daharsiah, and performed the usual mourning ceremonies.* The next day he took possession of his brother's treasury, and took his servants and other dependents under his own protection. For a period of one month, thereafter, he stayed at Alór. He (then) married his brother's widow, who was Agham Lúhánah's daughter, and moved to the fort of Brahmanábád, and fixed his quarters there. The reign of Daharsiah lasted for 80 years.

Dáhar now fixed his residence at the fort of Brahman-ábád for a year, during which period all the people of that part of the country put their heads into the yoke of allegiance and made homage to him. Dáhar then called Chach son of Daharsiah, and made an alliance with him, and acknowledged him as his father's successor. He then went to the fortifled town of Siwistán, and thence to that of Ráor. The foundation of the fort at this place had been laid by his father Chach who had died before it could be finished. Dáhar stayed there long enough to see the building com­pleted. He spent in it the four months of summer, as it was a very pleasant city with a salubrious climate and with sweet water. He fixed his winter quarters at Brah­manábád, where he spent the four months of winter. The remaining four months of spring he used to spend at Alór. In this manner, 8 years passed away, during which time his kingdom was perfectly established, the fame of his sovereignty sprend throughout the length and breadth of the world, and his rule was firmly fixed in the country of Hind and Sind. (Seeing Dáhar's rise) the king of Ramal, one of the neighbouring princes, became jealous of his power.