BEFORE entering upon the description of Kashmir, I had brought the thread of my story down to the point where, after passing the defile of Lár without difficulty, we entered the city. The army of Kashmir was dispersed, and the townspeople, forsaking their city and homes, fled towards the hills and glens, leaving their property in their dwellings. I took up my quarters in the Rájdán, which has been mentioned, and entrenched my men within its walls. During many days no trace of any one was visible. For twenty-four days we remained there, by which time the horses and cattle had quite recovered their strength. The army of Kashmir was stationed in the middle of some swamps [lái] at about two farsákhs to the south of the city, where they could be seen. Wise men were of opinion that we ought not to remain within the city, but thought that we should march out and watch for an oppor­tunity to give them battle. For, though the enemy were far stronger than we, both in arms and numbers, we might yet defeat them by strategy. [Couplet] … So, sallying forth from the city, we passed, in line, in sight of the enemy, and went and encamped at a place called Baklata* on the east side of Kashmir.

In a word, from that date of Jamád II. till Shabán—that is to say, from the end of autumn till the spring—we avoided the army of Kashmir, who on this account became elated, and grew so bold that, at first, every time we marched on, they halted for some days, finding some strong position from which to oppose us. In the first place they would fortify the position secretly, by every means in their power, and then, advancing in the night, would take up a defensive station in the place [where they halted]. At length they became so [confident] that they would follow after us on the same day that we made a move, without taking any precautions. Finally, in a village called Bágh Navin,* after they had advanced fearlessly and had hastened over some level ground, having drawn up my men, I turned and faced them. It would be tedious to enter here into details, but, to be brief, in the twinkling of an eye, the wind of victory began to blow and the enemy were scattered and discomfited …* The chief Malik of Kashmir, Malik Ali, together with several other eminent Maliks who were generals and commanders, perished.* Those who escaped the sword, fled to the tops of the mountains. Many were wounded, while such as remained unhurt had their hearts broken in two from fear. That night they resolved on flight, lest on the morrow it should be impossible. Their generals were alarmed and stupefied.

By the ordering of Providence, the following noteworthy incident occurred to me: I discovered the devilry and base nature of Mirzá Ali Taghái, who for devilish designs is more famous than Satan himself. [Couplet] … In short, Mirzá Ali Taghái came to me and offered his advice, saying: “If our army had fled, it would have been utterly broken. When the [enemy] reach the hills, it is clear that they will there take up a strong position, and it will not be prudent for us to advance into the hills to attack them. It is foolish to risk a disgrace. The way to destroy the enemy at this juncture, is for us to descend with all speed to the lowlands of Kashmir, and attack their families; it will then be impossible that they should remain where they are; they will perforce come down to defend their families. Those that have their households with them in the hills will not want to descend, while those whose families are on the lowlands, will make for the hill-tops. A certain number will remain where they are. Being once separated in this manner, they will find no possibility of reuniting, and no further fighting will be necessary.”

I allowed myself to be deceived by these devilish promptings and lying suggestions, and decided that on the following morning we should descend with all haste. [Couplet] … At dawn [next day] we started on the downward road. Mir Dáim Ali came to me and said with much severity: “What bitterness have we swallowed that matters should have come to this pass? Now that we have scattered the enemy and have driven him into these hills, you would leave him? Where are you going?” I then hesitated and halted, when Mirzá Ali Taghái, who had marched forward, came back and asked why I had stopped. Mir Dáim Ali then repeated to him what he had said to me. Mirzá Ali Taghái, turning towards me his double-faced countenance, said: “It is childish to alter one's decisions; I maintain my opinion still” [Couplet] … But I, setting aside the wise counsel of the provident Mir Dáim Ali, followed the evil advice of that worthless wretch …*

In short, we set out and came to the district of Nágám. Mirzá Ali Taghái went in advance. At the second stage we learnt that lower down there was no road, or if there were one, it was not suitable for the passage of an army. Chased from one place, and stopping in another, we finally halted at a spot called Jarura. The army of Kashmir, overjoyed with this march of ours, began again to collect their scattered forces from all sides, and descending from the hills, stationed themselves in a strong position, round which they threw a stockade [shákh]. [Couplet] … This happened on the 4th of Shabán, 939. (An ingenious person found the date in Ruz-i-chahárum az mah-i-Shabán). When Shabán was over and the season of Taurus had come to an end, the snows of mid-winter (that is, the season of Capricorn) were melted from the passes by the heat of the summer sun.

Mirzá Ali Taghái, continuing his intrigues, began to point out, and enlarge upon, the enormous difficulties which the conquest of Kashmir would involve. He thus turned the hearts of the whole army from a desire to conquer Kashmir. The only exception was Mir Dáim Ali, upon whom these base reasonings had no effect. All the leaders of the army of the Moghuls …* who had been scattered about, and were now re-united, came to Mir Dáim Ali, and with one mind and one accord said, amid much noise and com­motion: “Tell a certain person” (by which they meant me) “that we are Moghuls, and we have been continually occupied with the affairs of Moghulistán. The natural solace and joy of the Moghul Ulus is the desert, in which there is no cultivation [ábádáni]. The screeching of the owl in the wilderness is sweeter, to our ear, than the song of the nightingale in the grove. We have never made a cultivated land our home. Our companions have been the ravenous beasts of the mountains, and our associates the wild boars of the desert. Our favourite haunts and our most agreeable dwellings have been the caves in the mountain tops; our clothing the skins of dogs and wild animals, our food the flesh of birds and wild beasts. How can men of our race associate with this besotted band of infidels of Kashmir, which is the garden of Aram—nay more, a specimen of Paradise? It has been said: The idolaters shall not enter Paradise. Moreover, from Kashmir to Káshghar is a long journey, and not only is the distance great, but the difficulties of the road are well nigh insurmountable. There are [to be con­sidered] our families, our baggage, and our flocks and herds. Without flocks we must despair of our lives: separated from our herds we shall have to give up existence, and resign ourselves to death. Therefore, it is better that having ruined the army of Kashmir, we should return to the Khán. If the Khán kills us, our bodies will at least be buried by our own people. If he does not kill us, we will certainly never again draw our bridles towards any other place than Moghulistán.” [Couplet] …

Mir Dáim Ali came to me and reported what had been said. I was astounded at the men's behaviour. [Verse] … It is related that a certain sweeper [kannás] was passing a perfumer's shop, and when the scent got into his head, he fainted away. A doctor, who happened to be present, cried: “Apply some filth to his nose;” and the man immediately came to his senses. [Two couplets] … Finally, I said to Mir Dáim Ali: “[If I make an attempt to com­plete the conquest of Kashmir], these cowardly men will be eager to do something to shatter the foundations of sovereignty.” Mir Dáim Ali replied: “On our departure, the Khán told us that Mirzá Ali Taghái, in all affairs of the State, considered in the first place, his own advantage, and generally neglected the rest. By this rule he abides, so that in considering his own personal gain, he entirely ignores the necessities of the State …*

“Let us put the Khán's proposal into practice, so that henceforth no one will dare to show signs of insolence or insubordination; perfect concord will ensue, and thus the kingdom of Kashmir, which has never yet been subdued by a Moghul Khákán, will fall into your hands. You will earn a great name for all time, and the gratitude of the race of Moghul Kháns. For this country has never been conquered by any one [of them].”

To this I replied: “It is now ten years since the affairs of the Khán's army have been placed under my direction, and suitable Amirs have always been associated with me. I thank God that hitherto all has gone well with me, and that nothing has ever occurred to cause the finger of reproach or blame to be pointed at me. If this [execution] should take place, all the blame will be laid at my door, and all these Amirs, whose minds are full of devilish promptings, will be convinced that he [Mirzá Ali Taghái] was sent with the army in order that I might carry out the orders of the king of death. He would doubtless make every effort to save his own life, and every one will imagine that in accompanying me, his own life is in danger. Moreover, it would not be acting like a good Musulmán.”

After much reflection, I saw that there were only two courses open to me to pursue. On the one hand, to kill Mirzá Ali Taghái and subdue Kashmir; on the other, to spare him and retire from the country. I finally decided upon the latter course, and sent messages of truce to the Maliks of Kashmir. Thus did I disregard the dictates of wisdom, and my action has caused me much suffering. I have seen what I have seen. As has been said: ‘He that hath his enemy before him, if he do not kill him, he is his own enemy.’ [Couplet] …