MAULÁNÁ KHWÁJA AHMAD (may God sanctify his soul) was descended from Mauláná Arshad-ud-Din. He was exceedingly pious and much esteemed and revered. He belonged to the sect of Khwájás (may God sanctify their spirits). For twenty years I was in his service, and worshipped at no other mosque than his. He led a retired life, devoting his time to religious contemplation, and he used to recite the traditions of his sect in a beautiful manner; so much so, that any stranger hearing him was sure to be much impressed.

From him I heard that it was written in the annals of his fore­fathers concerning Mauláná Shuja-ud-Din Mahmud, the brother of Háfiz-ud-Din, an elder of Bokhárá (who was the last of the Mujtahids, for after the death of Háfiz-ud-Din there was never another Mujtahid), that during his interregnum, Chingiz Khán assembled the Imáms of Bokhára, according to his custom, put Háfiz-ud-Din to death, and banished Mauláná Shuja'ud-Din Mahmud to Karákorum. [The ancestors of] Mauláná Khwája Ahmad also were sent there. At the time of a disaster in Karákorum,* their sons went to Lob Katak, which is one of the most important towns between Turfán and Khotan, and there they were held in much honour and esteem. I was told many particulars concerning all of them, but I have forgotten them for the most part. The last of the sons was called Shaikh Jamál-ud-Din, an austere man who dwelt in Katak.

On a certain Friday, after the prayers, he preached to the people and said: “I have already, on many occasions, preached to you and given you good counsel, but no one of you has listened to me. It has now been revealed to me that God has sent down a great calamity on this town. A Divine ordinance permits me to escape and save myself from this disaster. This is the last sermon I shall preach to you. I take my leave of you, and remind you that our next meeting will be on the day of resurrection.”

Having said this, the Shaikh came down from the pulpit. The Muazzin [crier to prayer] followed him and begged that he might be allowed to accompany him. The Shaikh said he might do so. When they had journeyed three farsákhs they halted, and the Muazzin asked permission to return to the town to attend to some business, saying he would come back again immediately. As he was passing the mosque, he said to himself: “For a last time, I will just go and call out the evening prayer.” So he ascended the minaret and called the evening prayer. As he was doing so, he noticed that something was raining down from the sky; it was like snow, but dry. He finished his “call,” and then stood praying for a while. Then he descended, but found that the door of the minaret was blocked, and he could not get out. So he again ascended and, looking round, discovered that it was raining sand, and to such a degree that the whole town was covered; after a little while he noticed that the ground was rising, and at last only a part of the minaret was left free. So, with fear and trembling, he threw himself from the tower on to the sand; and at midnight he rejoined the Shaikh, and told him his story. The Shaikh immediately set out on his road, saying: “It is better to keep at a distance from the wrath of God.” They fled in great haste; and that city is, to this day, buried in sand. Sometimes a wind comes, and lays bare the minaret or the top of the dome. It often happens also, that a strong wind uncovers a house, and when any one enters it he finds everything in perfect order, though the master has become white bones. But no harm has come to the inanimate things.*

In short, the Shaikh finally came to Bái Gul,* which is in the vicinity of Aksu. At that time Tughluk Timur Khán was in Aksu. When he had first been brought there he was sixteen years of age. He was eighteen when he first met the Shaikh, and he met him in the following way. The Khán had organised a hunting-party, and had promulgated an order that no one should absent himself from the hunt. It was, however, remarked that some persons were seated in a retired spot. The Khán sent to fetch these people, and they were seized, bound and brought before him, inasmuch as they had transgressed the commands of the Khán, and had not presented themselves at the hunt. The Khán asked them: “Why have you disobeyed my commands?” The Shaikh replied: “We are strangers, who have fled from the ruined town of Katak. We know nothing about the hunt nor the ordinances of the hunt, and therefore we have not transgressed your orders.” So the Khán ordered his men to set the Tájik free. He was, at that time, feeding some dogs with swine's flesh, and he asked the Shaikh angrily: “Are you better than this dog, or is the dog better than you?” The Shaikh replied: “If I have faith I am better than this dog; but if I have no faith, this dog is better than I am.” On hearing these words, the Khán retired and sent one of his men, saying: “Go and place that Tájik upon your own horse, with all due respect, and bring him here to me.”

The Moghul went and led his horse before the Shaikh. The Shaikh noticing that the saddle was stained with blood (of pig) said: “I will go on foot.” But the Moghul insisted that the order was that he should mount the horse. The Shaikh then spread a clean handkerchief over the saddle and mounted. When he arrived before the Khán, he noticed that this latter was standing alone in a retired spot, and there were traces of sorrow on his countenance. The Khán asked the Shaikh: “What is this thing that renders man, if he possess it, better than a dog?” The Shaikh replied: “Faith,” and he explained to him what Faith was, and the duties of a Musulmán. The Khán wept thereat, and said: “If I ever become Khán, and obtain absolute authority, you must, without fail, come to me, and I promise you I will become a Musulmán.” He then sent the Shaikh away with the utmost respect and reverence. Soon after this the Shaikh died. He left a son of the name of Arshad-ud-Din, who was exceedingly pious. His father once dreamed that he carried a lamp up to the top of a hill, and that its light illumined the whole of the east. After that, he met Tughluk Timur Khán in Aksu, and said what has been mentioned above. Having related this to his son, he charged him, saying: “Since I may die at any moment, let it be your care, when the young man becomes Khán, to remind him of his promise to become a Musulmán; thus this blessing may come about through your mediation and, through you, the world may be illumined.”

Having completed his injunctions to his son, the Shaikh died. Soon afterwards Tughluk Timur became Khán. When news of this reached Mauláná Arshad-ud-Din, he left Aksu and proceeded to Moghulistán, where the Khán was ruling in great pomp and splendour. But all his efforts to obtain an interview with him, that he might execute his charge, were in vain. Every morning, however, he used to call out the prayers near to the Khán's tent. One morning the Khán said to one of his followers: “Somebody has been calling out like this for several mornings now; go and bring him here.” The Mauláná was in the middle of his call to prayer when the Moghul arrived, who, seizing him by the neck, dragged him before the Khán. The latter said to him: “Who are you that thus disturb my sleep every morning at an early hour?” He replied: “I am the son of the man to whom, on a certain occasion, you made the promise to become a Musulmán.” And he proceeded to recount the above related story. The Khán then said: “You are welcome, and where is your father?” He replied: “My father is dead, but he entrusted this mission to me.” The Khán rejoined: “Ever since I ascended the throne I have had it on my mind that I made that promise, but the person to whom I gave the pledge never came. Now you are welcome. What must I do?” On that morn the sun of bounty rose out of the east of divine favour, and effaced the dark night of Unbelief. Khidmat Mauláná ordained ablution for the Khán, who, having declared his faith, became a Musulmán. They then decided that for the propagation of Islám, they should interview the princes one by one, and it should be well for those who accepted the faith, but those who refused should be slain as heathens and idolaters.

On the following morning, the first to come up to be examined alone was Amir Tulik, who was my great grand-uncle. When he entered the Khán's presence, he found him sitting with the Tájik, and he advanced and sat down with them also. Then the Khán began by asking, “Will you embrace Islám?” Amir Tulik burst into tears and said: “Three years ago I was con­verted by some holy men at Káshghar, and became a Musulmán, but, from fear of you, I did not openly declare it.” Thereupon the Khán rose up and embraced him; then the three sat down again together. In this manner they examined the princes one by one. All accepted Islám, tillit came to the turn of Jarás, who refused, but suggested two conditions, one of which was: “I have a man named Sataghni Buka,* if this Tájik can overthrow him I will become a Believer.” The Khán and the Amirs cried out, “What absurd condition is this!” Khidmat Mauláná, however, said: “It is well, let it be so. If I do not throw him, I will not require you to become a Musulmán.” Jarás then said to the Mau­láná: “I have seen this man lift up a two year old camel. He is an Infidel, and above the ordinary stature of men.” Khidmat Mauláná replied, “If it is God's wish that the Moghuls become honoured with the blessed state of Islám, He will doubtless give me sufficient power to overcome this man.” The Khán and those who had become Musulmáns were not pleased with these plans. However, a large crowd assembled, the Káfir was brought in, and he and Khidmat Mauláná advanced towards one another. The Infidel, proud of his own strength, advanced with a conceited air. The Mauláná looked very small and weak beside him. When they came to blows, the Mauláná struck the Infidel full in the chest, and he fell senseless. After a little, he came to again, and having raised himself, fell again at the feet of the Mauláná, crying out and uttering words of Belief.* The people raised loud shouts of applause, and on that day 160,000 persons cut off the hair of their heads and became Musulmáns. The Khán was circumcised, and the lights of Islám dispelled the shades of Unbelief. Islám was disseminated all through the country of Chaghatái Khán, and (thanks be to God) has continued fixed in it to the present time.