In fact when by celestial aid the country of Bengal had come into possession of the imperial servants, and its capital had become the headquarters of the army, and the great officers had obtained large territories in fief, they gathered the materials of enjoyment and pleasure and opened the gates of negligence in the front of their lives. The pillars of sovereignty paid less attention to administration, and strife-mongers, of which wretches this wide world is never free, raised the head of discord and sedition. The time was at hand when slumbering strife should lift up her downcast eyelashes. Fissures found their way into the foundation of circumspection. Information such as could be depended upon did not come to head­quarters, or if one thing out of many became known to any of the confidants, he had not the courage to communicate it, for the arrangement then was that no particle of unpleasantness should be bruited in the august assemblage. When by degrees the truth about the rebellion in Hindūstān was conveyed by real well-wishers, who, in disregard of their own advantage, represented the true facts, his Majesty Jahānbānī called together the pillars of the state and determined on the return of the Grand Army. Though from excessive rain the country was under water, and the rivers were tempestuous, and it was not the season for campaigning, yet on account of the emergency it was considered that a return was necessary for the preservation of the empire. The charge of Bengal was ordered to be entrusted to Zāhid Bēg,* but that worthless one took up the presumptuous ways of an old servant, and having given way to evil desires, absconded and joined Mīrzā Hindāl. His Majesty made over Bengal to Jahāngīr Qulī Bēg and left a large force to support him. He then in the height* of the rains turned his bridle and set out for the capital (Agra).

When Shēr Khān heard of the returning of the royal army, and of the departure of the Mīrzās from Agra he withdrew from Jaun­pūr and proceeded towards Rohtās. His plan was that if the sub­lime standards should come against him, he should avoid a battle and return by the Jhārkhand route, by which he had come, and aim at Bengal, (qr. Gaur the capital). And if this should not happen (that Humāyūn's army should follow him) and if the imperial army should proceed towards Agra and an opportunity offered itself, he would follow in its wake and attempt a night attack. When the sublime army of his Majesty Jahānbānī arrived at Tirhut,* Shēr Khān came to know the smallness of the force and the disorganiza­tion of the royal camp, and waxed audacious (shīrak)* and advanced with a large and fully equipped army.

He got under his control all the country round about the army, and no one was able to procure information about the enemy's manoeuvres. Ibn ‘Alī Qarāwalbēgī (chief scout) went and brought authentic news which were communicated to his Majesty through M. Muḥammad Zamān. Though the grand army had crossed the Ganges, and was marching to the capital, yet when news was brought of Shēr Khān's arrival and of his being close by, the flames of the royal wrath were kindled, and out of his perfect majesty and dominion he turned his reins towards him. Though it was represented to him that at such a time, when the army was in the highest degree without equipment—it having travelled such a distance through mud—it was improper to march against the foe and to hasten to the field of battle and that what was proper was to halt somewhere and recruit the army and then to undertake the crushing of the enemy,—such views were not acceptable to his Majesty and so he crossed the Ganges and marched against the foe.

It behoves us to know that it is an ancient canon and fixed principle that, when the stewards of the kingdom of Divine destiny assign to an individual an article of price, they open beforehand the gates of failure and cast him into a tumult of anguish, so that felicity may not remove the unique pearl from its place, and that by this experience sorrow may be fulfilled and things brought to an equilibrium. Accordingly,—as the apparition of the light-increasing star of mortals, which by showing itself in dreamland from out of Qācūlī Bahādur's bosom had exalted the vigilant by the blessing of expectation, was drawing nigh,—the countenances of the thoughts of the meditative and farseeing are not scarred if before this there appeared some misfortunes. Thus did such things happen at the hands of sundry black-hearted, unwashed Afghāns, to a force which might have conquered the universe. Thus was it that, con­trary to the advice of ministers, the army marched against the Afghāns, and came face to face with Shēr Khān at the village of Bihīya* which is a dependency of Bhōjpūr.* There a black* river called the Karmnāsā (Text, Kanbās) flowed between the two armies. The royal army made a bridge over it and crossed. Though the royal army was small and many were without equipments, it was victorious in every skirmish, and the Afghāns were slaughtered on every side. But the period of encountering and slaying was pro­longed, and the great brethren, (Humāyūn's brothers), each of whom could have conquered a clime, placed, out of shortsightedness, a stumbling block in the way of their own fortune, and did not act harmoniously. The blessedness of learning what service was at such a crisis did not help their destiny. Though admonitory rescripts were sent to them, the impressions on these inspired tablets took no form in the minds of those iron-hearts. Shēr Khān, out of craft, sometimes sent influential persons to the sublime porte to knock at the door of peace, and sometimes cherished wicked thoughts of war. At length he deceitfully and fraudulently left a body of infantry and inefficient men, together with his artillery, in face while he himself marched two stages to the rear and then encamped. The royal army, which had all along been victorious, did not understand the craft of that trickster, so they followed and encamped. When an event is going to happen in accordance with destiny, carelessness on the part of the sagacious comes in to help. In this way great remissness ensued in keeping watch. At length Muḥammad Zamān Mīrzā showed utter negligence on a night when it was his watch. That fox (Shēr Khān) who was waiting for an opportunity, made a night march and in the morning presented himself at the rear of the camp. His army was divided into three bands (tōp), one led by himself, one by Jalāl Khān, and one by Khawāṣṣ Khān. The royal troops had not time to buckle their saddles or to close their cuirasses. His Majesty Jahānbānī when he became apprized of the army's negligence, was confounded by this specimen of fate's workshop, and the thread of resource dropped from his hand. As he was mounting, Bābā Jalāir and Qūc Bēg* arrived, and he bade them go quickly and bring away the noble lady Ḥājī Bēgam.* Those two faithful and zealous servants drank the wholesome sherbet of martyrdom at the door of honour's enclosure. Mīr Pahlwān Badakhshī also and many others obtained the blessing of offering up their lives around the enclosure of chastity. The time was very brief; her Highness could not come out, but as the Divine protection and defence was her surety and safe­guard, the boisterous blasts of the evil-minded could not impinge on the sanctuary of the harem of chastity, nor the mists of black-hearted men touch the hem of the curtain of the illustrious recluses. Divine* spirits from the glorious sanctuary of sublimity defended the veiled ones of the chamber of chastity with the wands of the door-keepers of* jealousy; wicked thoughts did not find their way into the hearts of those wretches, and Shēr Khān sent* off with all honour that cupola of chastity in perfect security and observance of seclusion.

In fine, when his Majesty came to the bridge, he found it broken. There being no other resource he plunged with his steed into the water like a river-traversing crocodile. By fate he got separated from his horse. Just then, as Providence was watching over his Majesty, a water-carrier became the Elijah* of his course, and by the help of his (the water-carrier's) swimming, he emerged from that whirlpool to the shore of safety. On the way his Majesty asked him his name. He answered, “Niām.” His Majesty replied, “A very Niām Auliyā.”* He showed him kindness and favour and promised that when he safely sate upon the throne, he would give him royalty for half a day. This anguish-fraught affair (qiṣṣa-i-pur-ghuṣṣa) occurred on 9th Ṣafar, 946, (7th June, 1539), on the bank of the Ganges at the Causa* ferry. M. Muḥammad Zamān, Maulānā Muḥammad Parghalī,* Maulānā Qāsim ‘Alī Ṣadr, Maulānā Jalāl of Tatta and many officers and (learned) learned men sank in the waters of annihilation. His Majesty in company with M. ‘Askarī and a few others rapidly pro­ceeded to Agra. M. Kāmrān was exalted by kissing the threshold, and after some days, M. Hindāl was brought from Alwar by the intervention of M. Kāmrān and his (Hindāl's) mother, and did homage with shame and downcast looks. His Majesty from his innate clemency forgave his offences and made many inquiries about his welfare. When from causes beyond control a destined event suddenly made its appearance, he at once sought to remedy it. He engaged himself in collecting arms and in retrieving the position. Officers and soldiers came from the provinces and had the honour of per­forming their obeisances. At this time the honest water-carrier pre­sented himself at the foot of the throne in reliance on the great promise. His Majesty Jahānbānī, who was the crown-giver and throne-conferrer of the land of generosity and urbanity, when he saw the friendless water-carrier afar off, immediately gave his Cyrus (khusrau)-covenant a place on the throne of fulfilment, and having vacated the seat of sovereignty in favour of the Elijah of the path, he set the water-carrier, in accordance with his promise, upon the throne for half a day, thereby equalling him to the monarch of midday. Having excepted sundry kingly powers and functions which his capacity could not have comprehended, he exalted him by conferring on him the dignity of command, and wiped away, with the swelling sea of munificence, the dust of want from the countenance of his condition and of that of his tribe. Every order which during that incumbency on the kingly throne, issued from the water-carrier, was executed forthwith. M. Kāmrān on beholding such loftiness of soul displayed the wrinkle of cavil on the forehead of criticism, and a pretext (for displeasure) was furnished to his trouble-seeking heart.