Having described the dagger thrusts in many victories over the Mugẖals, I now come to the conquest of the Hindūs of Gujrāt:—* As the sword of the Emperor of land and sea had been plentifully smeared with the blood of the infidel Mugẖals, he wished to wash off this clotted impurity in the immense ocean. Consequently, on Wednes­day, the 20th Jamadīul Awwal, 699 A.H., a fortunate day, he issued a firmān to the ‘Arīẓ-i Wāla* to send an army, like clouds and rain, to the coast of Gujrāt to destroy the temple of Somnāth. Like an angel directing the clouds, the late Ulugẖ Khān (May God make him drink out of the fountain of His forgiveness!) was appointed to lead the victorious army. Resolved to conquer, the clouds moved towards the sea; and as the foundations of the temple were water-deep, they wished to bring its summit to the water also. When the Imperial army reached the City of that land,* the sword of the righteous monarch completely conquered the province, which, adorned like a bride, had escaped so many emperors of the past. Much blood was shed. A general invitation was issued to all the beasts and birds of the forest to a continuous feast of meat and drink. In the marriage banquet, at which the Hindūs were sacrificed, animals of all kinds ate them to their satisfaction. Then the Khān-i ‘Aẓam* moved his army towards the sea.* Round the temple of Somnāth, which is the centre of Hindū worship, he drew a circle with his troops, and planted his Khaāī spear so high towards the centre that its sharp point almost pierced the sky. The banner of Islām was elevated to the equator, while every arch emerging from the two semi-circles, into which the army was divided, without fail passed its arrow through the black dot of infidelity. So the temple of Somnāth was made to bow towards the Holy Mecca; and as the temple lowered its head and jumped into the sea, you may say that the building first said its prayers and then had a bath. The idols, who had fixed their abode midway to the House of Abraham (Mecca), and there waylaid stragglers,* were broken to pieces in pursuance of Abraham’s tradition.* But one idol, the greatest of them all, was sent by the maliks to the Imperial Court, so that the breaking of their helpless god may be demonstrated to the idol-worshipping Hindūs. It seemed as if the tongue of the Imperial sword explained the meaning of the text: ‘So he (Abraham) broke them (the idols) into pieces except the chief of them, that haply they may return to it.’* Such a pagan country, the Mecca of the infidels, now became the Medīna of Islam. The followers of Abraham now acted as guides in place of the Brahman leaders. The robust-hearted true believers rigorously broke all idols and temples wherever they found them. Owing to the war, ‘takbīr,’ and ‘shahādat’ was heard on every side; even the idols by their breaking affirmed the existence of God. In this ancient land of infidelity the call to prayers rose so high that it was heard in Bagẖdād and Madāīn (Ctesiphon) while the ‘Alāī proclamation (Khuba) resounded in the dome of Abraham and over the water of Zamzam.* As to the city of Nahrwāla and the city of Kambāyat (Cambay), which the sea raises its head to swallow up, as well as the other cities situated on the coast—though the sea beats against them with force, yet the wave of the Muslim army did not turn to the sea to wash off the contamination of infidelity from the land, but cleansed the ground by a deluge of infidel blood; for if blood is not clean, and cannot cleanse, yet the sword is a purifier; and the sword having overcome the infidels, their blood became pure also. My object in this simile is not real blood, but (only to show) that the sword of Islām purified the land as the sun purifies the earth.*

In a single campaign Rantambhor was conquered, and by the decree of Providence the land of infidelity became the land of Islām. * When the celestial canopy of the Shadow of God cast its shade over the hill of Rantambhor and the conqueror of the world emitted his heat like the sun over the unlucky inhabitants of that place, the days of their life began to decline. The towering fort, which talked with the stars through its lofty pinnacles, was surrounded by the troops. The Saturnian Hindūs, who are related to that planet, had for purposes of defence collected fire in all the ten towers, thus turning the towers of earth (burj-i khākī*) into towers of fire. Every day the fire of those people of Hell extended its heated tongue to the light of Islām. But as the Mussalmāns, men of pure elements, had no means of extinguish­ing it, they took care of their own water (morale) without trying to overcome the fire. Sand-bags were sewn and with them a shīb was constructed. From the sowing of sand-bags it seemed that the Emperor of the world was investing the sand even with a robe of honour in reward for its capturing the fort. What then was to be the reward of men? May the country prosper under such an Emperor till water and earth, fire and air continue to exist! * When the shīb rose high enough to touch the western tower of the fort, the Imperial West­erners (magẖrabīs) appeared like the trunk of an elephant on its summit and shot large earthen balls. A mountain moved against the infidel fort, and the hearts of the Hindūs began to fail them.

* Some ‘New Muslims’ from among the ill-starred Mugẖals had turned their faces from the sun of Islām and joined the Saturnians.* All these men of Mars had collected together in the tower of fire (burj-i atshin); but though they had lighted a fire in all the three towers, and gathered like particles in the ‘heaven full of stars’, yet was Mer­cury (tir or arrow) caught in the sign of Saggittarius (qaus), and wander­ing towards the fire, was totally consumed. From* Rajab to Ẓil Q’ad the victorious army remained encamped at the foot of the fort. From the towers above, the fire rose high enough to evaporate the water-laden canopy of the clouds, but the fortunate Mussalmāns gathered together every day at the extremity of the sheb and carried forward the Imperial banner. With the impetuosity of Bahrām the brave warriors penetrated like salamanders through a fire that scared away the lion of the sky (the sun). To the sound of pipes, the pāīko (footmen) from above made their arrows dance over the fire so that even birds could not fly over the ethereal sphere; the royal falcons were, therefore, unable to reach the dome of fire which extended to the sky. * Again, the ‘irādas inside the fort, being the brides of the Hindūs, had borne them female offsprings of stone and were openly throwing them out by the end of Sha’bān. The Imperial gẖazbāns took account of their misdeeds and stoned them. For inevitably the mischievous is stoned. The stones of the besieging magẖrabis went up in the air and struck the clouds with such force that lightning was emitted from them. Heavy stones fell like hail on the heads of the besieged; they ate them and became cold. Yes! Their provisions being finished, they ate stones. Famine prevailed to such an extent within the fort, that they would have purchased a grain of rice for two grains of gold but could not get it. The fire of hunger had roasted their hearts within their earthen bosoms—and they wished to open their bosoms and eat up their roasted hearts. Man can bear all afflictions except that of a starving stomach.

* When the celestial sun had ascended the steps of honour and sat in the sign of Aries to hold the festival of the New Year’s Day (naurūz), tankas of gold were showered on the earth like falling leaves, and it became finer than a garden. After the naurūz, the Sun of Justice (the Sulān) shone full on the Rantambhor hill and every day its heat and light increased,* till finally the lofty fort, which drew its water-supply from the azure sky, became a desert from lack of vegetation and water. The world seemed smaller to the Rāī (of Rantambhor) than the prison within a rose-bud. So in his desperation one night he lighted a high fire, which rose like a mountain-tulip on the hill, and threw into it the rosy-coloured young maidens, who had grown up in his arms. After he had personally despatched to hell these deserving inmates of paradise, he came to the head of the shīb with one or two other unbelievers, bent on sacrificing his life with honour. Though the morning breeze had begun to blow, the narcissus-eyes of the watch­men had not yet closed in sleep. The melody of the bulbul accompanied the Rāī as he advanced. The rose raised a cry. The watchmen drew their swords of lily, sprang up from their places like the morning breeze and put the Rāī to flight, as the winter-wind annihilates the blooming cypress. Thus on the fortunate date, Tuesday, the 3rd il Qa’d, 700 A.H. such an impregnable fort was taken through an exercise of the strong will. * The title of the ‘Place of Islām’ was sent from heaven for this house of infidelity. The inhabited parts of Jhābun, that old land of paganism, became the ‘New City’ of the true believers. The great Imperial banner stood over the iron fort like a key in a lock; for it was the key for the conquest of southern lands. First the temple of Bāhir Deo, the support of which he had invoked, was destroyed. Then the houses of infidelity were overthrown by the strong arm of the holy warriors. Many strongly built temples, which the trumpet of the Day of Judgment could not have shaken, went to sleep on the ground as the morning breeze of Islām blew upon them. The stones of the infidel fort had grown deaf from hearing the Hindū conches; but now they re-echoed the (Muslim) call for prayer. Where formerly the loud pealing of the Brahman’s kettles had torn the ears of the Hindūs, now the sound of the Prophet’s Khuba filled true believing ears with a melodious joy. Henceforward whichever side the Imperial armies march, I know their arrow will hit the mark; wherever the Imperial ‘Khuba’ is read, its fame will resound to the sky.*