From noon until only three gharís of the day remained, the battle continued to rage, the brave warriors being earnestly engaged in wielding sword and spear, and the wounded in yield­ing up life with groans and agonizing cries. Bháo and Wiswás Ráí, in the early part of the engagement, made such incessant assaults, that Ahmad Sultán was under an apprehension that he would not be able to withstand them, and despatched a person to mount the ladies of his household on fleet steeds swift as the wind, and keep them waiting inside his private pavilion; so that, whenever the infidels should gain the superiority, they might be ready to pursue the path of flight, and betake themselves to the verge of safety and the nook of security. That day, however, Mahmúd Khán Gurd Bulbás, who was chief eunuch, Kúlalar-ákáshi , and commander of eight or nine thousand dauntless and bloodthirsty Kazalbásh horse, was posted in rear of Ahmad Sultán. He having planted his foot firmly on the plain of con­tention, caused great slaughter with his keen-edged sword. ^{* *} Through the reiterated charges of the Khán and his adherents, the pagan Mahrattas were unable to push on a step in advance of the position they had first assumed; and at this juncture an order was given to the zambúrakchís and jazailchís, not to be slack in keeping up their fire, but to consume the har­vest of the enemy's lives with the flame of their bullets. ^{* *} At length, by Ahmad Sultán's good fortune, one zambúrak ball struck Wiswás Ráí on the forehead, and another hit Bháo on the side. From these bullet wounds both of them quickly pursued the road to the realms of perdition, and betook them­selves to the lowermost pits of hell; while the rest subsided into the sleep of annihilation through the sword cuts inflicted by the Kazalbásh youth.

In a word, as soon as the Mahratta army perceived its chieftains travelling the desert of perdition, turning its face from the field of battle, it pursued the path of flight; and in an instant the scene of strife and bloodshed became cleared and purified, like the surface of a mirror, from the foulness of the vile infidels' pre­sence. Couriers then conveyed the information to Sháh Pasand Khán that the worthless pagan Mahrattas had fled, and not one of them was left remaining on the field. Jhankú and Malhár, who were two mighty chiefs, having planted firmly the foot of stability, kept fighting at the head of a lac of horsemen in front of Sháh Pasand Khán; so the latter, being re-animated with the news of the infidels' retreat, charged the chiefs opposed to him, and was occupied for two gharís in dealing forth blows and taunts on them. Eventually they came to the determination of fleeing, and taking the route to the Dakhin, they departed from the field of battle. The Írání and Durrání warriors, who were with Sháh Pasand Khán, pursued them; excepting the author of this work, who remained standing close by him. At last Sháh Pasand Khán remarked that he was going to offer his congratulations to Ahmad Sultán, and told me to go and carry off some booty for myself.

When the author had thus received permission, he put his horse to the gallop in company with a cousin of his own, and one attendant; and on reaching their camp, found about 30,000 infantry matchlockmen, or even more, going along with match­locks at their backs, and naked swords in their hands. We three individuals passed through the midst of them, however, and after seizing two strings (katár) of laden camels, by which is meant fourteen of these beasts of burden, we returned again through the midst of that multitude numbering upwards of 30,000 souls, and so greatly were they inspired with terror and consterna­tion, that they had not the power to use their weapons. Stranger still, whilst returning to our own camp, a Mahratta chief, who had been stationed in the hindmost ranks of their army, and was fleeing towards the Dakhin with six or seven thousand horse, happened to meet us three individuals. With a view to save ourselves from harm, we fired off our three matchlocks; whereupon that force turned away from us, and proceeded in a different direction. The author, together with his two compan­ions, took from them a couple more camels, one of which carried a kettle-drum, and the other forage; and we re-entered our camp in safety and security just as five gharís of the night were past, at which time the glad sounds of the kettle-drums were rever­berating through the ethereal sky from the army of Ahmad Sultán and the chieftains of Hindústán.

In this battle, out of the Mahratta leaders, Shamsher Bahádur, who was the Peshwá's son, and Ibráhím Khán Gárdí,* who had 30,000 Tilanga Gardís under his command, together with the Governor of the province of Gujarát Ahmadábád, met their deaths. Out of that vast army too, consisting of three lacs and fifty thousand cavalry and infantry, only 50,000 souls succeeded in returning to the Dakhin, after undergoing a thousand hardships and difficulties; while the remainder pursued the path of per­dition, either in the field or on the road, through the swords of the holy warriors.

All that the author witnessed with his own eyes, as well as what he learnt from the couriers under his authority and other comrades, every one of whom was on the spot, he has inserted in these pages; and it is his opinion, that there is none who can possibly be better acquainted with this engagement than his humble self; because the harkáras (couriers) were under his master's orders, and he was his master's factotum, everything that occurred being reported to the chief through him. When­ever any one else, therefore, out of self-conceit, tells a different tale to this, it is a tissue of lies and falsehoods, and his statement is unworthy of credit.

The ever-victorious Kazalbásh and Durrání warriors pursued the fugitives as far as the villages of Balamgarh and Farídábád, which are twelve kos from the metropolis of Sháh-Jahánábád, in the direction of Akbarábád, and from Pánípat to that spot must be sixty kos. Wherever they found the vile Hindú Mahrattas, they carried off their horses and equipments, and put the indi­viduals themselves to death.

Some of the soldiers, who were rather merciful and com­passionate, wounded a party of Mahrattas and then let them go, as in the following instance. The author of this work, together with Muhammad Beg Khán Hamadání Írání, who held the title of Iftikháru-d daula Fíroz Jang from the Emperor of Hindústán, had about 20,000 horse and foot under his command, and was greatly honoured and esteemed by the late Nawáb Najaf Khán, was for some time in the camp of Mahájí Patel Sindhia, the Mahratta; and Sindhia was so excessively lame, that two persons used to hold him under both arms to raise him from his seat. Some one inquired of Sindhia the reason of his being lame, whereupon the latter, heaving a deep sigh, replied: “When fate is unpropitious, the wisest plans are unsuccessful. I had pur­chased a Bhúnráthalí* mare for the sum of 12,000 rupees, which outstripped the cold winter's blast in speed, and I was mounted on her back. At the time when Bháo and Wiswás Ráí met with their deaths, I got separated to a distance from Jhankú, the chief of my adherents, and was fleeing away alone; when a young Mughal riding a Turkí charger set out in pursuit of me. How­ever much I pressed my steed, whenever I looked behind, there I saw his horse shaking his ears, and coming straight on; till at last, the mare being incapable of further exertion, he overtook me. He then took away my steed and accoutrements, and gave me a wound in the leg, saying: ‘This shall give you a mark to remember for years to come.’ From that day to the present I have continued suffering from this painful wound, insomuch that I remember it well.”

Another extraordinary incident was this. During the flight of the Mahratta forces, a party of them had stopped at the caravanserai of Sonpat, for the purpose of eating bread and drinking water; when the Kazalbásh and Abdálí warriors came up in pursuit, and through fear of them, the guardians of the serai closed its gates. As soon as the Mahrattas got intelli­gence of their arrival, every one mounted his horse, wishing to escape, but found the gate shut. One of them spurred on his mare, which he conceived to be a good galloper, that he might clear the wall of the serai at a leap. The gallant animal, flying off the ground like a falcon, stuck amongst the battlements of the wall, and there expired. Thirty years ago the author of this work, happening to alight at that serai, beheld the horse's skeleton fixed in the battlements. This noble feat is famous throughout the world.

These singular events took place in the year 1174 A.H. (1760-1 A.D.). One of the poets of Hindústán, with a view to ingratiate himself with the Nawáb Wazíru-l mamálik Shujá'u-d daula Bahádur, composed the following chronogram of the victory:

“Wisdom grew delighted and exclaimed, Come!
May the triumph of our Nawáb be propitious.”

This humble individual, too, has written down all these par­ticulars exactly as they happened, in order that they may be made apparent to His Highness's understanding.