He made Lūhrī his residence when his Majesty left him at Bhakkar. Twice did the garrison attack him by surprise, and, willing or unwilling, the Mīrzā showed courage in these engagements. Muḥammad ‘Alī Qābūcī (i.e., door-keeper) and Shēr-dil, both of them related to Mun‘im Khān, bravely drained the wholesome cup of martyrdom. On a third occasion, they (the enemy) had the daring to leave their boats and draw up their forces on the sands. On this occasion the Mīrzā's men showed such superiority that nearly 300 or 400 of the enemy were killed, and the hot sand was saturated with the evil blood of those victims. Such fear fell upon the enemy that they did not again venture to come out. Mīrzā Shāh Ḥusain increased his craft and led the Mīrzā out of the straight path. He sent his seal-bearer, Bābar Qulī, to him, representing that he was old and had no sympathiser,* that he would give him his daughter in marriage and make over his treasures to him, that he did not wish to spend uselessly the few remaining days of his borrowed life, and that they two together might conquer Gujrāt. In fine he deceived that simpleton by lying promises,* and the latter being void of understanding and crooked in thought, stained his forehead with disloyalty. If he had had a particle of magnanimity or a glimmering of discernment, he would never even for valid promises have planted his foot in the circle of disloyalty, nor have hearkened to the interested representations of the perfidious, but would have practised honesty and kept his head erect!
When his Majesty Jahānbānī saw the straits to which the army was reduced, he sent a messenger to Yādgār Nāṣir Mīrzā requesting him to fall quickly upon the ruler of Tatta, who was blocking up the way, so that the army might emerge from the strait of difficulty into ample space. Though the Mīrzā had in his heart became alienated, yet he preserved appearances a little by sending out an advance-camp. But with the same crudity of thought, he delayed and loitered in marching out. Thereupon his Majesty Jahānbānī sent Shaikh ‘Abdu-l-ghafūr, who was sprung from the Shaikhs of Turkistān, and whom his Majesty had made one of his intimates,* to contrive that the Mīrzā should advance quickly. But that worthless fellow walked crookedly and as the saying is,—
Verse.*This very road on which you are going leads (also) to Turkistān.
He perverted his mission and by his improper language so affected the short-sighted Mīrzā that he even neglected appearances and recalled his advance-camp. When his Majesty Jahānbānī perceived that the times were so unpropitious, and that the army's difficulties were beyond conception, he saw that it was useless to remain longer near the fort (Sehwān), and proceeded on 17th ī'l-qa‘da (23rd February, 1542), towards Bhakkar and Lūhrī. At this juncture one of Yādgār Nāṣir Mīrzā's censurable acts was, that at the instigation of the ruler of Tatta, he seized and sent to him Gandam* and Hāla, who were loyal zamīndārs, and had shown their loyalty by collecting boats, &c. That* unrighteous one put them to death in punishment for the meritorious act of this service. His Majesty passed over this vile act and a hundred like it and was always for conciliation, thinking that perchance he (the Mīrzā) would write words of regret on the page of his actions and come into the house of amendment. When the sublime standards reached the borders of Lūhrī, Yādgār Nāṣir Mīrzā came out with a body of men to attack the camp. His Majesty on hearing this immediately got on horseback. Hāshim Bēg, who was one of the Mīrzā's right-thinking confidants, on hearing of this shameful proceeding, went quickly to him and violently seizing his rein, turned him back. He chided and reproved him, and speaking bitterly and harshly, said “Apparently gentlemanly feeling, shame, respect and reverence have left the world. In what religion and by what canons of reason and sense, is it allowable to exhibit such levity and to set oneself up against one's benefactor?”
Verse.Good was that commander's saying,
Watch the measure of thy work,
Plant thy foot on the pedestal of thy ability,
So that thou make thyself a place on the sky-top.
Whoever does not quit his own affairs,
Eats the fruit of whate'er he sows in this world.
By such wise counsels he brought the Mīrzā back to Bandar* Laharī. Meanwhile many, such as Qāsim Ḥusain Sulān, followed the path of error, and separated from his Majesty, and came over to Yādgār Nāṣir Mīrzā's side.
When by the requirements of the mysteries of Divine wisdom and by the subtleties of eternal counsel, which arrange within the cover of every failure (nāmurādī) many materials of success (asbāb-i-murād), there was no form of success in Sind and when the decisive test for man's unmanliness had been applied, and the disloyalty of the army, the unhelpfulness of brothers, the folly of kindred and the unfavourableness of fortune had been revealed, his Majesty desired to don the dress of the recluse and the ascetic and to strike with the foot of longing into the desert path of the travellers on God's way, and to take up the circumambulation* (ḥalqa) of the ka‘ba of purpose and the thread of the skirt of resolution, or to retire into a hermitage, preferring the cell of ease to the beholding of his contemporaries, and wishing to be far removed from this world full of care (āsīb) and worldlings full of craft (farīb). All his right-thinking comrades who in weal and woe had waited on his stirrup and kept close to the reins of his society, besought him to abandon this idea and represented that the thing to be done now was to cast the shadow of fortune's Humā* on the country of Māldēō and there to recruit his spirits, for Māldēō had repeatedly sent representations of devotion and made protestations of loyalty; that he had an army and an arsenal; that evidently he regarded this as a favourable opportunity and that when he was at the stirrup of good fortune, he would become a spring of good service, and that by degrees, the secret hopes and wishes of his Majesty's well-wishers would be fulfilled. His Majesty from a regard to the ideas of these faithful ones ordered a march towards that country. He sent a gracious rescript, together with salutary counsels, by Ibrāhīm Bēg Īshak Āqā to Yādgār Nāṣir Mīrzā, for perchance he might become conscious of his base acts and come to tread the path of repentance, and might depart from villany and display the grace of propriety. The following verse was endorsed on the letter:
Verse.O thou moon-cheeked one, others' eye and lamp,
I burn! How long wilt thou plaster others' scars?
As the slumbrous-witted Mīrzā did not possess an awakening spirit, the expostulation made no impression on him. With the same old vain hopes he took the road of disloyalty and stayed behind in Lūhrī. His Majesty Jahānbānī proceeded to Ūc on 21st Muḥarram 949, and from thence went towards Māldēō on 18th* Rabī‘u-l-awwal, and on the 14th idem halted at the foot of Dilāwār.* On the 20th he encamped at Ḥaṣalpūr,* and on 17th Rabī‘u-l-ākhir he encamped twelve kōs from Bikānīr. On the way the far-seeing members of his retinue became apprehensive of the deceit and perfidy of Māldēō and represented this to his Majesty. They continually suggested that cautious action which is the illuminated border of fortune's rescript. At length Mīr Samandar, who was at the head of men of sense, was sent on rapidly to Māldēō. He returned when he had penetrated the secrets of his heart, and represented that though Māldēō was making protestations of sincerity, it was evident that he did not possess the true light. When the standards of fortune approached his territory, Sankāī (or Sangāī) of Nāgōr, who was one of Māldēō's confidants, came to the camp under pretext of trade and sought to purchase a valuable* diamond. As his demeanour did not savour of rectitude, his Majesty Jahānbānī bade them impress on this (would-be) buyer that such jewels were not to be obtained by purchase. They either fell by the shimmer of the flashing sword into the hands of him for whom Providence destined them, or were obtained by the favour of great monarchs. In fine, his Majesty was rendered even more cautious by the arrival of this cheat, and applauded the acuteness of Samandar. Again acting on vigilance and prudence which are the net with which princes work, especially in times of trouble and difficulty, he sent Rāī Mal Sūnī with instructions to go quickly to where Māldēō was and to report what he discovered. If unable to write, he was to communicate by means of a pre-arranged signal. That is, the signal of Māldēō's faithfulness was to be the messenger's clasping all his five fingers, and that of opposition and hypocrisy was to be the clasping of his little finger. The camp moved on two or three stages from Phalūdī* which is thirty kōs from Jōdhpūr, the abode of Māldēō, and stopped at the Kūl-i-jōgī (the recluse's pond). Rāī Mal Sūnī's courier arrived there, and clasped his little finger. This signal explained the state of matters, and afterwards it clearly appeared that the thoughts of this black-fated scoundrel were deceit and perfidy, and that he had an evil intention in sending a large body of men under pretence of setting off the welcome. His Majesty turned his reins towards Phalūdī. Yet many people are of opinion that Māldēō was in the first instance well-intentioned, and desirous of doing service, and that afterwards he was diverted from the right path either by learning the distressed condition of the troops and their small numbers, or by the false promises of Shēr Khān and by perceiving his ascendency. Or he was withheld from help and service by his (Shēr Khān's) threats. In any case he abandoned the path of counsel and auspiciousness and turned the page of loyalty. The general opinion, however, is that from beginning to end his protestations of service and his sending petitions of obedience were all based upon hypocrisy and hostility.*