CHAPTER XIX.
MIRZÁ KHÁN'S LIFE IN BADAKHSHÁN. THE AUTHOR GOES FROM BADAKHSHÁN TO KÁBUL.

I HAVE mentioned that I arrived at Kala-i-Zafar just eighteen days after the Khán's departure for Kábul. Mirzá Khán was living there in exceedingly straitened circumstances, being without provisions and surrounded by the scheming natives of Badakhshán. The Tangi Bálá,* in which are situated the strongest places of the Hazára, had been annexed to Káshghar, as will be mentioned below. The flat country of Badakhshán, the most fertile and prosperous part of that state, was under the control of the Uzbeg; while the rest [of the land] from fear of the Uzbeg had [been abandoned and had] become a waste. What yet remained over from the panther of the mountains of enmity, on the one hand, and from the crocodile of the river of tyranny, on the other, (that is to say, the Uzbeg and the Káshghari) had passed to Sháh Razi-ud-Din, the Chirágh Kush, who, having been brought from Sistán to Badakhshán, had been appointed king [of this portion]. He had introduced the religion of the Muláhidas, and outdid the oppression of his two tyrannical predecessors. Mirzá Khán, as a Musulmán, was much harassed [by these infidels] and had scarcely the necessaries of life. That winter was passed in suffering.

In the early spring, a dissension arose among the supporters of Sháh Razi-ud-Din, which ended in their cutting off his head and laying it at the feet of Mirzá Khán. By this defeat of the Mulá-hida [Mirzá Khán] gained a little power. Thus passed the spring; and at the end of autumn [tirmáh] a compulsory order came from the Emperor of the following purport: “The son of Muhammad Husain Mirzá has been with you; your country is always exposed to the forays of the Uzbeg, and my mind can never be at rest as long as he remains there; you must send him to me.”

When Mirzá Khán gave me leave to go to Kábul, he tried his best to procure a coloured garment for me, but was unable to find one [and was obliged to excuse himself]. On that day a most curious incident occurred. I have already mentioned that I fell from my horse and dislocated my elbow at Langar Mir Amád (which is a dependency of Hisár), and that it had been broken again and set at Pushang. Although the pain had subsided, I was not able to bend and straighten my arm. I could not bend it enough to touch my face with my hand, nor straighten it suffi­ciently to draw a bow. During the spring I spent with Mirzá Khán, a man of Badakhshán, having stolen a two year old horse from the Uzbeg, had brought it as a present [pishkash] to Mirzá Khán who, in turn, gave it to me. One day the Mirzá was taking a ride for pleasure, and I accompanied him on that particular horse. While we were riding along, a thorn ran into [the khárish-gáh * of] my horse. He gave two or three bounds into the air, and as I had not strength enough to keep hold of the bridle, it fell from my hand, and I was thrown on to the ground upon my injured arm. As I struck the ground, I heard a sound in my bad elbow. The shock was so violent that I fainted. After a time I came to, and found that Mirzá Khán was holding my head upon his knees. He asked me how I felt. When I had quite recovered my senses, having bound up my arm, they conveyed me to Kala-i-Zafar. There they sent for the bone-setters [kamángar].* On examination, they found that my arm had gone back to its proper place, so that after a short time I recovered the entire use of it, and no injury was traceable. This was certainly a very strange occurrence.

In a word, at the beginning of the month Rajab I left Kala-i-Zafar and the service of Mirzá Khán, and turned towards Kábul, accompanied by a party of sixteen. We only had two horses with us, and so limited was our baggage that I had nothing to lie on at night. Mauláná Muhammad, who was a sort of father to the party, had nothing but one meagre shawl, such as is worn by the poorest men in Badakhshán. What the condition of the others was, may be surmised.

When we reached Kábul, we were received by Shirun* Taghái, who was maternal uncle to the Emperor and myself, and one of the pillars of state. With a hundred marks of respect, he invited me to his own house, where I was entertained with distinction and kindness. Later, the Emperor sent a messenger to say that, after three days, the happy hour would arrive when he would send for me. After that, the moon of my ascendency and [the star of my good-luck] emerged from their eclipse, and my misfortune changed to prosperity. An order came that I should have the honour of waiting [upon the Emperor]. When I came into his presence, the joy-diffusing glance of the Emperor fell upon me, and from the excess of his love and the intensity of his kindness, strung pearls and set rubies began to rain down upon me from his benign, jewel-scattering eye. He extended towards me the hand of favour and bade me welcome. Having first knelt down, I [raised myself and] advanced towards him. He then clasped me to the bosom of affection—drew me to the breast of fatherly love, and held me thus for a while. When he let me go, he would no longer allow me to observe the formalities of respect, but made me sit down at his side. While we were thus seated, he said to me with great benevolence: “Your father and brother and all your relations have been made to drink the wine of martyrdom; but thank God, you have come back to me again in safety. Do not grieve too much at their loss. For I will take their place, and whatever favour of affection you could have expected from them, that, and more, will I show you.” With such promises and tender­ness did he comfort me, so that the bitterness of orphanage and the poison of banishment were driven from my mind. He then asked me: “Who was it that carried you off in flight?” I replied: “My master, Mauláná Muhammad Sadr.” He then sent for the Mauláná. When he arrived [the Emperor] honoured him with many kind speeches, and kept asking him the particulars of his story, while the Mauláná several times recounted the details of our escape. [The Emperor] praised him highly and rejoiced his soul with promises of favour. [When the Mauláná had taken his leave] the Emperor said to me: “You have not yet paid your respects to Sultán Said Khán,” and thereupon he ordered one of his private officers to take me to the Sultán. I accompanied this officer, and at once waiting on the Khán, benefited likewise by his joy-scattering glances. I then returned to the presence of the Emperor. After sitting with him for a short time, I took my leave, amid assurances of royal favour.

When I came out, a man advanced to meet me with great respect, and said: “I am the steward [kalávuz] of the abode which the Emperor has appointed for you.” So saying, he led the way to an elegant mansion; its rooms were spread with many-coloured carpets and beautiful thrones [masnad]. Everything in the way of furniture, food, clothing, servants, and slaves, had been so fully prepared as to leave nothing to be desired in the whole building. It may be imagined how I enjoyed so sudden a transition to comfort, ease, and abundance from a state of poverty, misfortune, suffering, and hardship, which had rendered the soul weary of its confinement within the cage of the body. How can I ever show sufficient thankfulness? May God reward him with good things!

Thus I passed a long time in the service of the Emperor, in perfect happiness and freedom from care; and he was for ever, either by promises of kindness or by threats of severity, encouraging me to study. If he ever noticed any little virtue or new acqui­sition, he would praise it in the highest terms, commend it to everybody, and invite their approbation. All that time, the Emperor showed me such affection and kindness as a fond father shows his son and heir. It was a hard day for me when I lost my father, but the bitterness of my desolation became scarcely percep­tible, owing to the blessed favours of the Emperor.

From this time, to the year 918 [1512 A.D.] I remained in his service. Whenever he rode out, I had the honour of riding at his side, and when he received friends, I was sure to be among the invited. In fact, he never let me be separated from him. When I was studying, for example, directly my lesson was over he would send someone to fetch me. And in this fatherly manner did he continue to treat me till the end of my stay [tá akhar-i-hál].