About this time the Jágírdárs of the province of Bhakkar, owing to the Emperor's approach, resolved to send their army into the province of Síwán. This territory often suffered from their depre­dations, but they now sought to take it from the Mirzá. Fat'h Khán, a slave, ruled that province, but he had made a Hindú called Júna his agent; and to any person wishing to address him on affairs of the state, he stupidly said: “I know nothing of this: go to Júna.” His son Abú-l Fat'h led a most dissipated life. He clothed his companions in female apparel, with bracelets on their arms, and kept them hidden in his own abode. He would not eat of food on which a fly had lighted. His associates were usually made to bring many kinds of dishes, and by this means, he plundered them. From the 13th to the 16th of every month his friends were called together, and the time was spent in debauchery. Whole nights passed in the enjoyment of sweetmeats, fruit, and wine; he gave presents to his guests and attendants. But of all his absurdities this was the greatest: if a flight of birds happened to be pointed out to him, he commenced counting them, throwing in the air either a larí* or a Firingí gold coin as each passed by. In short, as this miserable state of things prevailed, the Mirzá resolved, in order to put a stop to it, to remain himself at the head of affairs in the capital, and send away his children to the frontier and the provinces.

* * * * * * *

When the illustrious Khán, leaving Bhakkar behind him, arrived in Síwán, his first though was to invest and capture the fort before proceeding any further; but, after-consideration showed him that no substantial benefit could accrue from the possession of a few mud walls, until both the capital Thatta and the ruler of the country were in his hands. The root is the support, not the branches. The Nawwáb thought it best to leave a detachment behind and move onwards in person with the remainder. This plan was carried into execution. Leaving under his officers some ships which he con­sidered equal to the destruction of the fort, the Khán marched against Mirzá Jání Beg.

When he drew near the Lakkí mountain, which wise men hold to be the key of the country, what a sight opened upon him. From the river Sind, stretching away towards the setting sun, rose the above-named mountain, its summits high as the star Aiyúk, and along the face of it ran a path narrower than a hair. Those who pass over climb like a string of ants. If ten resolute men defended this passage, not the world combined could dislodge them, without suffering severely from the stones they could throw down. Adjoining these mountains are many others, on which dwell the tribes of the Bulúch and Nahmrúí, of the Jokiya and Jat, extending as far as Kích (Kíz?) and Makrán. To the eastward of the river are the Mawás and the Samíja tribes, spread as far as the sand-hills of Amarkot; and these are men who have never acknowledged a master. For an army to pass in either of these directions is impracticable. The Nawwáb made enquiries about the country and was greatly troubled with what he heard, for if an ambuscade were laid in the valley it would be exceedingly difficult for him to proceed, this being the key of the whole country. Just as orders had been issued for this post to be fortified (as by this means, and by well-laid plans, a secure advance might be made) it was discovered that the enemy had taken no measures to defend the pass. The Khán was delighted, and exclaimed that the star of the monarch of the world had indeed outshone that of these people, since they neglected to make a stand in so formidable a position; of a certainty now the country had passed away from their hands. When this saying reached the ears of the Mirzá (Jání Beg), keen indeed was his regret for the neglect he and his counsellors had been guilty of. “Truly,” said he, “have we committed a great fault of generalship. In short, the Khán advanced without meeting with any obstacle, and, in presence of the Mirzá, threw up an intrenchment and constructed batteries. Morning and evening, valiant, lion-hearted youths, worthy descend­ants of Mars, came forth from both sides. With such activity did destiny send forth death to do its work in the field, that no symptom of backwardness appeared there; energy filled every breast, as the warriors strove their utmost. The happy star of the Emperor, and his own genius, inspired the Nawwáb to send detachments against various places in the same way that he had encompassed Mirzá Jání Beg and the fort of Síwán. Sháh Beg Khán was selected to act against the fort of Sháhgar, in the province of Nasrpúr, where resided Abú-l Kásim. Another party of veterans was told off to march into the Jágir country, against the fort of Nírankot. In this war, for every province of the country a force was appointed, although it was not despatched.

Mirzá Jání Beg Sultán made this agreement with his soldiers, that every one of them who should bring in an enemy's head should receive 500 gabars, every one of them worth twelve mírí's, called in the Mirzá's time, postanís, of which seventy-two went to one tanka. The poor people of Sind, already prepared to give their lives for their lord, were pleased with this show of kindness, and went out daily to bring in heads or lose their own. This style of warfare continued for several months. Giriya, the Hindú, who well knew how matters stood, and the state of the treasury, and had a regard to future exigencies, gradually reduced the reward from 500 to fifty gabars. Even for this small sum, the starving people were content to throw themselves without hesitation against the scimitars of the foe. The greater number fell in these contests, and the treasury became empty, so that day by day, the state of the people and of the country grew worse. Mirzá Jání Beg found his only safety in protracting the struggle, and sent forth his young men on all sides to distract the enemy. Hearing that treasure was on its way by land to the Nawwáb Khán's camp, he sent Abú-l Kásim, son of Sháh Kásim Arghún, with a body of spirited youths, Moghals and Sindís, to attack it. This chieftain, when he drew near the convoy, about the middle of the night, hid himself with his men, and sent a small party to fall upon the enemy's rear with a great clamour. The enemy all turned against these men, but Abú-l Kásim, with the remainder, entered their camp, carried off the treasure, and slew the foremost of the foe. Sultán Khusrú Charkas likewise attacked them with his boats, according to a previously concocted scheme, by which a body of picked men was to remain on board, whilst another advanced by land, The Nawwáb also had made suitable dispositions. The Mirzá's chieftains, who were anxious for Khusrú's defeat, sent the armed force in the boats, but kept back the party which had been selected for the land attack. The hostile fleets drew up in the opposite lines, and a discharge of cannons and muskets, shells, and rockets, wheels, and every kind of fire missiles commenced on both sides. The scattering flames and sparks shone on the water like a fiery mountain, and such clouds of smoke ascended, that the vaulted heavens became as it were the roof of a furnace. The sun sheltered itself in the smoke from the fierce­ness of the heat, and was eclipsed. Sight could not pierce the thick clouds, and breath failed from the density of the atmosphere. At length the boats ran foul of each other. The rings and grapnels, which were made in order to drag away the enemy's boats, now began to be used. So violent a struggle ensued, that the waves were crimsoned with the blood of those whom the guns had destroyed. By the help of their friends on shore the Khán's party triumphed, and their adversaries fled. Khusrú Charkas was taken in his boat along with several other vessels, when, at that moment, Charkas Daftír, the chief of the merchants of Firang, who repaired yearly to Thatta from Hurmúz, came fluttering like a moth around this furnace, and running his boat into the midst of the fray, suc­ceeded in rescuing Khusrú from his captors; but the attempt cost both of them their lives. When both sides were satiated with blood they withdrew to their tents, and applied balm to their wounds. It was at length resolved to abandon stratagem and fight in the open plain, where victory would fall to the brave.*