The narrator of this history states on the authority of Alí son of Muhammad son of Abdur-rahmán, son of Abdulláh Salítí, th?? when Muhammad Kásim finished the settlement of the affairs of the Luhá-nahs, he came to the land of the Sahtahs. The rural classes with their headmen came out bare-headed and bare-footed, and asked for mercy and pardon. Muhammad Kásim pardoned them all, fixed tribute on them, and took some hostages from them. He then wanted to have a sketch of all the stages and camping places on the way thence up to Alór. The guides supplied this and said: “Alór, the capital city of Hind, is the biggest town in the whole of Sind. Its inhabitants are mostly artisans and merchants and cultivators. Fofí son of Rai Dahar has made that fortified town the chief city of his kingdom. No one dare speak of Dahar's death before him. He says that Dáhar is still alive and that he (Dahar) has gone to Hind to bring an army, with the intention of again engaging the Arabs with their help and assistance.” Muhammad Kásim continued his march till he came to within a mile of that city, and fixed his camp just opposite the fort, and there he spent about a month. During this time he built a mosque in which he used to deliver orations every Friday.*

(On the approach of Muhammad Kásim), fighting commenced forthwith between the Arabs and the people of Alór, who still entertained hopes that Dáhar was about to bring them succour. They loudly told the Arabs from the top of the ramparts: “You ought to feel some compassion for your own selves, for Dáhar is about to come with his allies and a large army consisting of numerous elephants and cavalry and infantry, and he will hunt you down. We are just coming out of the fort to put your army to flight. Return to us our wealth and property; have some pity on your own lives, and run away that you may not be put to death. Do you listen to our advice.”

When Muhammad Kásim saw that they had made a firm stand against him, and were fighting furiously, not believing for a moment, that Dáhar had been killed, he made Ládí, Dáhar's wife whom he had purchased out of the spoils and made her his wife, ride the same black camel, which she used to ride during Dáhar's life-time, and sent her with some trustworthy men to the front of the fort. There she spoke out to the people saying: “O residents of the fort, I have to tell you something and give you some good advice. Stand in a line, that I may speak to you.” A number of the chiefs then appeared on the top of the walls. Ládí then unveiled her face and said: “I am Ládí, wife of Dáhar. Our King is killed and his head has been sent to the capital of the Khalífahs, in Irák, together with his standards and umbrellas. You should not expose yourselves to trouble and ruin, and throw not yourselves with your own han into perdition.”* Saying so, she set up a wail, and wept bitterly and began to sing dirges. But the men standing on the top of the ramparts said: “You are telling a lie; you, too, have conspired with these Chandáls and cow-eaters and are united with them. Our king is still living. He is soon to come with a large army and numerous troops and furious elephants, to defeat the enemy. You have mixed with the Arabs and defiled yourself. You prefer their rule to ours.’ They then began to abuse her. Muhammad Kásim came to know of this, and sent back for Ládí, and said:—“Sovereignty has after all turned away from the house of Seláij.”

The writers of this history have stated that in the fort of Alór there was a sorceress, of the Hindú Jógi class. Fófí Dáhar.* and other nobles of the town went to her, and told her:—“We have hopes that with the help of your knowledge of magic, you will inform us as to where Rai Dáhar is now.” The sorceress said: “Leave me to-day, that I may consult my science, and make secret enquiries about the matter, and then I shall let you know.” She then went into her private apartments, and after about a watch, she re-appeared with a branch of a pepper-plant and another of a nutmeg plant in her hand, from Sarandeb,* bearing fresh buds, and green flowers and fruit, and said: “I have travelled over the whole world from one end to the other, and specially in Hind and Sind, but I could find no trace of him (Dáhar) any where, nor could I hear anything about him. You should shift for yourselves. If he had been alive, I would have certainly known it, and he could not have remained concealed from me. For the verification of my statement, I have here brought for you green branches from Sarandeb, that you may not entertain any evil doubt. For myself, I am quite sure that your king is not alive on the face of the earth.”

When this news got abroad, the residents of the town, high and low, said to one-another: “We have been so long hearing about Muhammad Kásim's piety and probity, his watchfulness, his justice, his virtue, his equity, his kindness, his faithfulness in the observance of promises, and his truthfulness; but now we have seen all this, with our own eyes. We should, therefore, now send a message to him, through some trustworthy person and ask for his mercy; and hand over the fort to him.” When Fófí came to know for certain that Dáhar had been killed, and that the people were contemplating a surrender, he collected all his followers and family members, and as soon as the king of heavenly bodies went behind the curtain of the dark night, he came out of the fort and went to the terri­tory of Jitór, where he joined his brothers Jaisiah and Wakiah, sons of Dáhar, who had been residing at a place called Nazwalah Sandal. There was a man from amongst the Aláfís at Alór, who had been all along co-operating with Fófí and he, with the intention of informing the Arabs outside, of Fófí's flight and concealment, wrote on a piece of paper, the following words: “Fófí Dáhar has resigned the ruler-ship of Alór, and has gone away some where” and tying the paper to an arrow, he shot it out.

Muhammad Kásim now sent his army to commence an assault. Accordingly, warlike men and brave soldiers got over the ramparts, and began to fight. Then all the traders and all the artisans and other professional people immediately sent the following message to the Arab general: “We have given up our allegiance to the Brahmins and have turned away from them. Rái Dáhar has gone away from us, and his son Fófí too has disappeared. We never wished to see such a day. As it was destined by God that all this should happen, no creature dare oppose the will and power of God, and fate cannot be averted by fighting or by any strategem. The kingdom of this world will never last with any one person. When the army of Fate issues forth suddenly from the ambush of mystery, some kings, with its assistance, secure a royal crown and throne, while others, by the vicissitudes of time and the revolutions of fortune, are defeated and isolated. One should not count upon an ancient kingdom or upon a new rulership. It will fall into his possession to whom destiny gives it. We, therefore, intend to come to you to pay our respects and, trusting in your justice and kindness, to place the collar of submission and allegiance on our necks. We are ready to deliver the fort to the faithful officers of the just commander, in the hope that you will pardon us and show us mercy and save us from the depredations of your army. This ancient kingdom has come down to us from Rai Dáhar as an important legacy. As long as he was living, we tried our best to take care of it and to watch over it. Now, that Dáhar is no more and his son Fófí has also run away, subordina­tion to you is welcome to us, and we shall be happy in it.” Muhammad Kasim said: “I never sent any proposal to you, nor did I send any messenger to you. You have all had recourse to me, of your own accord, for pardon and protection. You must, therefore, make a solemn promise to withdraw entirely from warfare, if you are sincere in your intentions and are really inclined to render allegiance to us. Unless you come out and satisfy me by making a solemn promise, the enmity bet­ween you and us will not cease, and hereafter, I shall not hear or accept your excuses, nor pardon you, and in that case, you should not consider yourselves safe from injury or harm at the hands of my troops.”

Then the defenders of the fort came down from the battlements, and resolved among themselves, saying: “We are going to open the gate and stand there till Muhammad Kasim comes in. Then, if he confirms his promise, we will surrender and pay homage to him. If he, by way of kindness, receives us well and gives us pardon, well and good, if not, there must be treachery at the bottom of this affair.” Having formed this resolution, they came with the key of the fort to the gate. Some of the righteous men sent by Hajjíj, served as a medium of communication and intercession, and the garrison, even­tually, opened the gate, and posted themselves near it. Muhammad Kásim then entered and all the townspeople came to the temple of Nóbhár,* and prostrated themselves before an idol. Muhammad Kasim enquired: “Whose house is this, in which all the people high and low are respectfully kneeling and bowing down.” They replied: “This is an idol-house called Nóbhar.” Then, by Mu­hammad Kásim's order, the temple was opened. Entering it with his officers he saw an equestrian statue. The body of the idol was made of marble or alabaster, and it had on its arms golden bracelets, set with jewels and rubies. Muhammad Kásim stretched his hand and took off a bracelet from one of the idol's arms. Then he asked the keeper of the Budh temple Nóbhár: “Is this your idol?” “Yes” he replied, “but it had two bracelets on, and one is missing.” “Well,” said Muhammad Kásim, “cannot your god know who has taken away his bracelet?” The keeper bent his head down. Muhammad Kásim laughed and returned the bracelet to him, and he fixed it again on the idol's arm.