* It was the 15th of Sha’bān, when in the middle of the month of the Prophet, the ruby canopy was fixed so high that it over-topped the Ramaẓān crescent. On that night Khwāja Nasīrul Mulk Sirajuddoulah (May God illuminate the nights of his life!) personally arranged the troops with a lighted lamp. Every division was sent to its appointed place, in order to surround the fort and to protect the besiegers from the shots of the besieged and from whatever compounds of air and fire the latter might bring forth to set fire to the external wall of bronze. * When the august canopy had been fixed a mil from the gate of Arangal, the tents around the fort were pitched together so closely that the ‘head’ of a needle could not go between them. Inside the fort the Hindūs slept at ease, like reclining yard-measures; outside the watchmen of the Imperial army were wide awake. Every tumān was assigned one thousand two hundred yards of land; the total circumference of the fort, as enclosed by the tents, was twelve thousand five-hundred and forty-six yards.* The land of infidelity was made to look like a cloth market owing to the innumerable tents.

* The victorious army drew into ranks like the teeth of a saw and the heart of the Hindūs was cut into two. Every soldier was ordered to erect a Kāth-garh (wooden defence) behind his tent. Immediately all hatchets became busy and every soldier was transformed into Ishāq, the wood-cutter. Trees that had never been molested by the stones of those who wished to eat their fruits, were now felled with iron axes in spite of their groans; and the Hindūs, who worship trees, were unable to come to the rescue of their gods in their need. Every accursed tree in that land of infidelity was cut down to its roots. Clever carpenters sharpened their instruments on the tree-trunks and soon cut them into proper shape with their axes. Finally, a wooden fence was built round the army. It was so strong, that if fire had rained from the sky, the wooden fort would have been as safe from fire as Noah’s ark was from water.

* When the Hindū-faced evening had made a night-attack on the sun and sleep had closed the portals of the eyes and besieged the fort of the pupil,* the watchmen, with their shields on their backs and their drawn swords in their hands, drew into a double row to keep guard over the Imperial camp and with the strokes of their eyelashes drove sleep out of their eyes. Near midnight, when the meteors had begun to shoot towards the besieged demons and the moon had brought forth its full shield, a thousand swift Hindū horsemen from the troops of Bānik Deo, the muqaddam of that country, made a night-attack on the Muslim army with demonish cries and the Hindī sword. God forbid that such an army should fear such an attack! * As a matter of fact, the crocodiles of the besieging army who had themselves been waiting in an ambush for this armoured fish caught the latter with their Hindī swords like fish in a net. From fear of the enemy’s maces and clubs, the Hindūs drew their heads into their armours like tortoises. The heads of the rāwats rolled like crocodile-eggs on the fish-backed earth. In an instant many of these aquatic creatures had been drowned in a deluge of their own blood and lay like slaughtered fish. Those wounded by spears and arrows cried as frogs cry when caught by snakes. Others who tried to run away received wounds on their backs, which like cancer-sores opened a door for the entry of death. * Finally, most of the Hindūs were either killed, overpowered or driven away. Some of them cut off their horse-belts in order to fly more quickly, but the anvil-piercing holy warriors came out of their iron lines and pursued them, determined to strike the Hindī sword at infidel hearts. Every Hindū found in the neigh­bourhood was either slain with the Hindī sword and the Tatār-arrow or sent as a prisoner to the army.

Now some of the prisoners happened to declare that in the town of Dahdūm, six farsangs from Tilang, three elephants, such as could tear up the back of a hill with their iron teeth, had been secretly hidden. Immediately, at the order of the Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial army, three thousand brave horsemen, led by Qarā Beg Maisarah, galloped away in that direction. But when they reached the said fort, the elephants had been carried further still and inevitably a further distance had to be traversed. Thanks to the unlimited good fortune of the Emperor, all the three elephants fell into the hands of his officers. The elephants, on their part, were busily pulling their chains in their anxiety to reach the Imperial Court. When they were brought to the army camp, the war-like Malik considered the acquisi­tion of these three iron forts a great achievement and kept them, along with the other elephants, for the Imperial stables. Indeed, he had seen all this in the mirror of his sword and without the help of any conjurer or fortune-teller.

* As the Commander-in-Chief of the army, who was also the Imperial Chamberlain, was very fond of polo (chaugān), he ordered his enthusiastic men to go on playing the game against the muqaddams of Laddar Deo, day after day. He motioned to them with his brow, that wheresoever they came across a desperate rāwat, they were to take his head for a ‘ball’ and bring it to their camp. Having received this wide permission, the sportive horsemen considered it a great fun to separate the heads from the bodies of a very large number. Every horseman in the army whipped his animal and in several matches brought away the ‘balls’ of those desperate Hindū warriors; for you might consider their blood-smeared heads as coloured balls brought to the presence of the chaugān-loving Malik. Further, the Malik ordered stone-balls for the maghrabis to be collected all round the fort; so that with the strokes of the balls the fort may be won and reduced to dust in another match. * As the external munjaniqs drew their strength from the virtuous tree of faith, they did great damage to the infidel edifice, but the inner ‘irādas, being con­structed from the tree of infidelity, naturally yielded before the impetuosity of Muslim stones. The stones of the Mussalmāns all flew high, owing to the power of ‘the strong cable,’ and hit the mark, while the balls of the Hindūs were shot feebly as from a Brahman’s thread, and consequently went wrong.

* When the sābāts and gargajes were completed and rose so high that the garrison of the fort was placed suddenly on a lower elevation, the fort ditch began to talk of its great depth to the Muslim army. Though the latter looked sternly at it and took measure of its depth, it would not allow the army to cross; and opening wide its two lips, spoke of the security of the fort. Ultimately, the Mussalmāns threw mud into its mouth, and filled it in so completely that its two lips were joined together. Of this there could be no doubt. Further, one wing of the fort-wall, for about the length of a hundred hands, was broken so thoroughly by the stroke of large stones, that it could not rise high enough to embrace the Hindūs below the arm-pits. On the other side, also, the havoc wrought by the maghrabi stones had created new doors in the gate-wall. All these doors of victory which Divine assistance had opened for the Imperial officers Yes every crack in the enemy’s wall is a door of victory for the friend. * When owing to the continuous piling up of the earth, a mound had risen from the bottom of the ditch to the waist of the fort, and the mud wall of the fort had become a heap of dust from the strokes of the stone-balls, they desired to construct a pāshib so wide that files of hundred men abreast may ascend over it to the fort. But the construction of the pāshib would have taken a few days; and Victory, in her haste, was dancing on the sword’s point. The rightly guided Wazir called the Malīks to a council of discussion, and their correct judgment was to the effect, ‘that before the construction of the pāshib, a hand-to-hand struggle should be attempted, and as Victory is on our side, may be she will come running.’

* The night of Tuesday, the 11th Ramaẓān, was so bright that its shining moon imparted it the brilliance of Lailatul Qadr.* The tarāwth prayers asked for heavenly help with a loud voice. The blessing of the fasting day had collected the rewards of the victors, and Fortune used the lock of the night as her ladder for descending from heaven to earth. The Pleiades had lifted their hand in prayer that key of victory may fall into them! * The exalted Wazir ordered high ladders and all other requisites to be constructed in every division (khail) in the course of the night, whenever the drum beat to action, everyone was to come out of his entrenchment and carry the ladders to the fort, so that the work of victory might be exalted step by step. When in the morning the sun in Gemini had clothed the sky with a waist-band of light, the holy warriors ran towards water and took off their socks in order to put on their armour. * After performing their ablution—and every drop of ablution-water is a sharp arrow for Satan’s heart, for ablution is a Mussalmān’s armour!—they were ready for prayer and turned their faces towards God. The Sah-kash also bowed in the obliga­tory prayer, and raised his hands to ask Heaven for victory and success. He begged the ‘King of Khaibar’* to plead before God, from whom all good originates, for the reduction of the fort, and instantly the keys of victory fell into his hands from the Unseen Gate. Some waiting was, however, still necessary, for everything has its appointed time.

* When the golden shield of the sun had risen a spear high, the Malik Nāīb ordered his men to begin the attack and the blood of the ‘gabrs’ was shed in the worthless fort even as the Censor of morals throws away carnation-coloured wine. The beat of the leathern drum—‘and the thunder declares His glory with His praise’— resounded through the vault of the sky. The trumpets of the holy warriors raised their voices on every side. ‘Here! I am for you,’ cried Victory as she came running. Bold men with scaling ropes began to jump up to the fort-wall like lions in the forest. The arrows fell thick like showers of the rainy season and pierced the breast of the Hindūs even as rain drops get into the mothers-of-pearl. Powerful diggers, with the greatest noise, sat down to open a way into the fort. One half of the earthen fort flew up like dust to the sky; the other half threw itself down to seek protection from the ground. The excellent bow of the Turks rubbed its sides with the sky and claimed to be the bow of Rustam, while their arrows, all flying together, looked like the cloud of Bahman. Others had applied their spades to the fort-wall; you would have thought they were ‘arguing away’ the foundations of the edifice with their eloquent tongues. Some had thrust their sword-points into the solidified earth as if determined to carve fine figures out of it. The wooden ladders raised their feet to the highest elevation from the greatest depth for the sake of Islām; and the earthen fort threw the Hindūs down from its height in order to degrade infidelity. The magẖribīs outside exchanged shots with the ‘irādas inside the fort; it seemed as if young men and veiled brides were throwing loving stones at each other; for either side exercised the greatest attraction, and with unclosing eyes marked the thousand tricks of the other. If one ball was discharged from outside, it fell as two balls within; but if two balls were discharged from within, no misfortune befell the proclaimers of the one God. Praise be to God for his exaltation of the Muslim faith! There can be no doubt that stones are worshipped by the gabrs; but, as they were unable to give their worshippers any assistance, the gabrs threw them up to the sky and then down to the earth. And it was proper that the stones should be struck against the ground. Next some footmen of the Muslim army climbed with their hand-nails over the earthen fort; and having found the moon in the Taurus, they permanently purchased the land and buildings of that territory with the Alāī coin.* Though the fort had been so excellently constructed, that there was nothing on its walls that one could catch hold of or lay one’s finger on, yet the besiegers clung to it with the edges of their nails; and even as a wise man overcomes a fool, they boldly climbed to the summit of the fort. And God enabled them to bring one wing of the fort into their strong and powerful hands. That night they established themselves there in force, and broke the legs of those who wanted to dislodge them.

On Sunday, the 13th Ramaẓān—Sunday, being a day dedicated to the Sun—the sun had so illuminated the night, that it merged insensi­bly into the day, thus giving the holy warriors a greater time for action. As the moon withdrew its shield beyond the western horizon, the men of the army drew their swords and attacked the fort from the east. The drummers awakened the sleeping war-drum which leapt up from its sleep at their beats; and it seemed that the four elements of the sphere would dissolve into chaos at its noise. The war cries of the warriors, the sounds of ‘Huzza! Huz!’ and ‘Khuzza! Khuz!’ resounded through the world.* The assistance sent from the smoky sky for the Muslim army descended through the ethereal sphere; and bringing fire with it from there, fell on the gabr’s places of refuge. And in its liberality with human life, the fire turned these stingy people into enormous heaps of ashes. When the tongues of fire had descended low, the standard of the Sulanate rose on the fort. All praises are for Allah who raised it so high!

* By Wednesday, a day dedicated to Mercury (Archer), the Emperor’s fierce troops had as easily entered the mud fort as a warrior’s arrow breaks through and upsets a bubble. The inner fort, which resembled the (Arabian) Khaibar, was invested. No Hindū was allowed to cross the line of the besiegers just as dogs had not been allowed to come out of Khaibar (by the Mussalmāns); if a Hindū had attempted to do so, his heart would have been cut open by the arrow that could pierce through seven plates of steel. When the Alexandrian lines had surrounded the inner fort by a wall of iron, they saw a building, the stones of which rose up to the sky; and even the sky had raised its mirror higher (lest it might break from contact) with the rocky towers. Its stones were joined so carefully together that the head of a needle could not get in between them; its walls were so smooth that a fly attempting to sit on them would have slipped down. Its stones and plaster had been welded so excellently together that the tongue of the spade was unable to separate them. In addition to this, there was such a wonderful charm in its walls and buildings that no maghrabī had the heart to do them any wrong. You might say that the fort was a stiff spear, which the ant could not climb, or else that it was a flute, in which the wind lost itself as in a wooden pipe. Its towers stood upright in the air and ascended to the moon; its foundations sank deep in the earth, down to the Fish. The watchman on its towers bathed his head with the clouds; the digger at its foundations washed his feet with water.

* When the multitudinous army came to the lip of the ditch, they found its mouth full of water; if anyone talked to it about crossing to the other side, it tried to drag him down to the bottom. The swordsmen of the army, however, would not float any boat on the ditch but determined to swim through it together. They practised on the face of the water every rule of mensuration they knew, and, in a moment, crossed the ditch, file after file, more easily than a boat would have done. They determined to sum up all their resolution and to bore holes into the stomach (of the fort) as in a reed. With the passion of Farhād, they wished to knock down the edifice so completely that it may not be propped up by a thousand columns and to pull down its towers with such force that the ‘heads’ of the towers would come down while their ‘feet’ went up. In short, they resolved to seize the fort so effectively from the Hindūs that even its dust might not be left in the latter’s hands. Yes, Yes, Even the dust is reluctant to remain with the infidel. * Rāī Laddar Deo sat inside the fort like a snake over buried treasure and called his people around him. His elephants pulled their chains in pride of the gold they bore; but the Rāī was thinking of his war with the golden scorpions and watery pearls trickled down his inner eye at the thought (of losing his enormous treasures). He wished to look into the future, but his eyes refused to obey him. He had been brave and courageous in the siege; yet whenever he reflected on the situation in which he was placed, his stout heart began to palpitate; and if he wished to remove the heaviness of his heart by saying farewell to all his treasures, his heart struck against his breast, and told him that it could not, at least, separate itself from so much gold as remains sticking to a black touch­stone. * He had fastened his hopes on being able to place before the invaders an obstacle, which would cause them to stumble and retrace their steps. But the Emperor’s prestige overawed him; all his courage melted away and he was left a broken man. In his helplessness, he first collected in heaps the treasure he had buried under stones more heavy than can be dragged from the hills, in order to provide for his ransom. Next he constructed a golden image of himself, and in acknowledgment of having become a tribute-payer, he placed a golden chain round its neck and sent it through ambas­sadors, whose honest word was more unchanging than the purest gold, to the Commander of the Imperial army.

‘The opposition of the rice-made Hindū,’ ran the Rāī’s petition, ‘to the iron bodies of the Mussalmāns is like a silver-faced beauty challenging Rustam to battle. This being the case the servant, Laddar Deo, has been forced to lay aside his own bronze body in a corner. Fear of the Emperor’s Hindī sword has turned me pale, or, rather, my body of stone has become golden in the rays of the Imperial sun. Consequently, I have constructed an exact image of myself, which is being sent to promise tribute and obedience at the review. I hope the Imperial officers will intercede for me at the Court, and inform the Emperor that fear of him has rendered the broken body of this servant even more lifeless than this golden statue, and that I will only feel signs of life in myself on the day when the wind of Imperial favour blows over my dead body.

‘If the good-will of the officers of the world-protecting Court is to be won by treasure and valuables, I have as much gold with me as will suffice to gild all the mountains of Hind. All this immense gold belongs to the Emperor and I will not turn my face to it again. But if the world-adorning Imperial will, as a favour to the weak, gives back a few gold coins to this unfortunate Hindū, it will exalt him (Laddar Deo) to a dignity superior to that of all other Rāīs. For the desire of gold is found in every heart. It is only the mirror (heart) of the Second Alexander that can turn its back towards this metal, for his sword has absorbed the gold of the whole world. Concerning his sword only can the proverb, that “magnet draws iron and iron draws gold”, be true. And if the Emperor really wants the gold possessed by a poor man like me, so much the better! For what princi­pality is more fortunate than the one which draws the Emperor’s heart towards itself. I will keep none of this gold-dust for myself, for my heart has been broken by the fear of Emperor’s infidel slaying sword. And every one knows, that when an earthen vessel breaks, you cannot repair it with gold-dust. * If precious stones, gems and pearls* are demanded, I have a stock of them such as the eyes of the moun­tains have not seen and the ears of the fish have not heard of. All these will be scattered on the path of the Imperial officers. For if I do not scatter rubies on the road, over which the Emperor’s army comes advancing through hill and plain, my blood will be soon shed there.

* ‘Of horses, too, I have twenty thousand, being of the mountain and foreign (baḥrī) breed.* The foreign horse flies like wind on the surface of water, without even its feet becoming wet. And when the mountain-horse steps on a hill, the hill trembles like a Hindī sword.* All these horses will be handed over, along with the slaves, to the royal stables. Nevertheless, in the extremity of shame, “the bride of self-possession” is slipping away from my hands, and I feel like using my shame as a horse and flying away upon it. For it is improper for me to display my potsherds and amber in the company of the noble. * There are also a hundred elephants, who will go to the Imperial Court with the greatest pleasure. They are the mad elephants of Ma‘bar, not the vegetarian elephants of Bengal. Most of them are new born and young, and are growing their teeth. They have heard of the elephant-slaying warriors of the Imperial army and, their ears have been opened; they draw a deed on the ground with their trunks to the effect that henceforth they will never turn their faces towards the Ka‘ba of Islām except in worship. They are coming with their feet like pillars and their heads like the dome of the gate of obedience—so that, if the Imperial officers choose to be angry at them, the elephants will submit to it with the “skirts” of their ears; and if order for the punishment of rebels is given, the elephants will execute it with their teeth. God has given them a forehead peculiarly fitted to render obedience at the Imperial Court. They are now scattering dust over their heads before the Hindū’s door, but in the Emperor’s presence their foreheads will have the vermilion colour of good fortune.

* ‘In short, the servant, Laddar Deo, places all the treasures, elephants and horses he possesses in one scale of the balance and his life in the other. The servants of the Emperor can choose whichever they like. It is certain that life and property have the same weight as honour. If my wealth is taken and my life is left to me, I will be broken by the heavy anxiety of earning a livelihood; if my life is taken, the scale holding my wealth will sink to the ground. In either case the balance will be upset. This being the case, I consider myself a broken stirrup; it is for the just Emperor to set the balance right. If means of livelihood are left to me, I will collect all my “leaves” and hand them over to the Emperor’s officers at his command. If the forgiving Emperor (May the measure of his good deeds be heavy!) allows me to retain such wealth as is proportioned to my weightless life, after all I hold the stout heart of a Rāī and not the balance of a grocer. I will take the brave iron spear, which befits my hand, and measure myself against other Rāīs. I will seize treasures from them, and send to the Emperor such tribute as is fixed on me. And if there is the slightest deficit in the tribute, I will send my own life as a make­weight .’*