On the 2nd Isfandármuz, they marched from Jag-dara towards Karágar, and having proceeded five kos, they halted at the village of Kándák. Next day the road was full of defiles, and the right wing was left as a rear-guard, while the halt was made half a kos in advance. The advance-guard was to skirmish a little in front for that day, and then fall back. Next morning, when the advance entered the pass, the fight began. The Imperial forces were successful in several encounters, and in a short time carried the pass, and captured some booty. Thousands were lured into this snare. The altamsh, also, hearing the cry of plunder, hastened to share it, and large numbers of the main body broke and hastened forward. Kokaltásh, who had chosen the camping ground, when he advanced and came in front of the Afgháns, found the troops engaged in plundering. Hasan Khán Tabatí was carried off wounded, and matters looked very serious. Kokaltásh, on learning this, engaged in the fight, and made a firm stand. That day and that night, and the early part of the next day, the battle went on. Kokaltásh shot four of the enemy's chiefs with his own hands, and the foe was for a time repulsed. The close of the day brought victory; but the baggage of the camels and oxen had been plundered. That which was carried by elephants and mules came up.

Next day they they advanced six kos, near to Khánpúr, and there halted. Kokaltásh himself took the command of the rear, and fighting all the way, reached the camping ground. He then repaired to the Rájá, to consult with him as to what course was to be taken, blaming the movements that had been made, and eloquently exposing his own views. As the distance before them was now diminished, and the rugged nature of the way was not visible, the general opinion was, that they should leave the hills and rest for a few days, until a plan could be formed for over­powering their adversaries. Kokaltásh represented that the ground in front of them was most difficult, and it was utterly futile to attempt it. His own opinion was, that they should stay where they were for a while and defend themselves. The space was sufficiently large; there was no danger of the foe gaining a position to command it; there was abundance of water and grass, and plenty of wood to build stockades: they might thus inflict chastisement on the fierce foes who held all the hills around. Else they might send and endeavour to make peace, by restoring the prisoners and booty they had taken, on condition of receiving hostages. Or, they might wait for a while, until news of their position reached the Emperor, and he sent an army to seize the hills from that side. But fate had ordained it other­wise. They held to their own views, and thought they saw their safety in what was to be their ruin.

On the 6th Isfandármuz, they marched towards the lofty mountain of Bulandrai. Kokaltásh wisely took command of the rear. The fighting began again more fiercely than before. When they had made some little way, and evening came on, finding a lofty mountain before them, they came to a halt. On Kokaltásh coming up, it became clear that there was another defile to pass before they could be safe. As this was governed by heights close at hand, he made haste to push forward. The advance-guard was ordered to ascend the heights and clear the command­ing positions; then to come down again at a distance, and at the early dawn show the way over this difficult mountain. When they were repulsed by the Afgháns, Kokaltásh with a party of braves rallied them; but others hastened to fall back, and all order was lost. Although Kokaltásh exerted himself to re-assure them and restore order, it was all in vain. The Afgháns attacked them fiercely on every side with arrows and stones, and they were driven from the heights in disorder and dismay. At the bottom, elephants, horses, and men, were all mixed together in confusion. There many brave and noble men made a bold stand, and sold their lives. One party, having found a passage, made their escape; and at the close of the day another party made their way over the rugged mountain. Kokaltásh was with this party. In the conflict he had resolved to sell his life, but a brave friend seized his rein, and dragged him out of the fight. At length he reached the camp on foot, through a hundred difficulties. Scared and foolish men raised the cry that the Afgháns were upon them. So, in the greatest distress, they moved on from that place at an unseasonable hour. In the darkness many lost their way, and fell down precipices. The Afgháns stayed behind, securing and dividing the plunder.

Next day, many of the wanderers perished, and some were made prisoners. In this conflict 500 men perished.* Among them was Rájá Bírbal, whose loss the Emperor greatly deplored.