Of the night attack made by Shyr Khan, and its consequences. A. H. 946—A. D. 1539.
As soon as the peace was concluded, the treacherous Shyr Khân summoned his principal officers, and said to them, “is there any of you brave enough to go and storm the Moghul camp?” At first not one of the Afghân officers would undertake the task. At length a person called Khuâs Khân said, “if he would give him a detachment of good soldiers and a number of war elephants, he would attempt it, and exert himself to the utmost;” adding, “this is a business of chance; but let us see to whom ‘God will give the victory.’”
Shyr Khân was much pleased with Khuas Khan’s proposal, and gave him his choice of all the troops and several war elephants; but although the detachment marched from the camp at ten o’clock of the morning, the artful general loitered about till night. In the mean time, Shykh Khelyl sent off a messenger to his Majesty, cautioning him to be on his guard; but “when fate descends, caution is in vain.”
(Here follows a long story taken from the history of Muhammed on the fatal effects of presumption.)
The King would not believe the information, or that Shyr Khân would be guilty of such a breach of honour or religion, and passed the night without taking any precautions; but just as the sun rose next morning, the Afghâns entered the rear of our encampment; made a dreadful uproar, and caused the greatest confusion both among the troops and followers. His Majesty on hearing the noise ordered the kettle-drums to be beaten, and in a short time about three hundred cavalry assembled around him. In a few minutes one of the enemy’s war elephants approached; on which his Majesty made a sign to Myr Bejkê, who was celebrated for his valour, and who, with his two sons, Gurk Aly and Tetta Beg, one of whom carried the King’s double-barrelled gun and the other the royal spear, to attack the elephant; but as none of them had the heart to do it, his Majesty snatched the spear from the hand of Gurk Aly, spurred on his horse, and struck the elephant with such force on the forehead that he could not draw out the spear again: in the mean time an archer who was seated on the elephant discharged an arrow, which wounded the King in the arm, and the enemy began to surround him. His Majesty then called to his troops to advance and charge the enemy, but no one obeyed; and the Afghâns having succeeded in throwing every thing into confusion, one of the King’s followers came up, seized his bridle, and said “there is no time to be lost; when your friends forsake you, flight is the only remedy.” The King then proceeded to the bank of the river, and although followed by one of his own elephants, he urged his horse into the stream,* but in a short time the horse sunk. On seeing this event a water carrier who had distended his leathern bag (musek) with air, offered it to his Majesty, who by means of the bag swam the river. On reaching the northern bank he asked the man his name; he said, “Nizam:” the King replied, “I will make your name as celebrated as that of Nizam-addyn-Aulia (a famous saint), and you shall sit on my throne.”
On this memorable day a great number of the royal troops were killed, and an equal number drowned in attempting to cross the Ganges;* in short his Majesty, having escaped this dreadful danger, proceeded towards Agra.
In a little time the King received intelligence that Myr Feryd Gûr was pursuing him from the eastward, and that Shâh Muhammed Afghan was encamped in his front, and determined to prevent his progress. On hearing this bad news the troops were very much discouraged, and inclined to desert their standards.
At length Rajah Perbehãn represented, that if his Majesty would permit him, he would undertake with his own troops to stop Feryd Gûr; in the mean time the King might continue his march and encounter his enemies. These measures were approved, and the army advanced; upon which the Afghans retreated, and left the road open.
After a number of marches the royal army arrived at Calpy,* where the governor, the son of Kasim Kerãchy, had prepared a number of presents for the King, but by the shameful advice of his father, who commanded one of the divisions of the army, only offered a few trifling articles. On hearing of this circumstance his Majesty would not accept any of them but an embroidered saddle, which he said he would take for his brother Kamran.
From Calpy the army continued its march till it reached Agra, in the vicinity of which place the Prince Kamrãn was encamped in a garden called the Zer Afshân (scattering gold): when the Prince heard of his Majesty’s approach he came out to meet him; and the King having alighted from his horse embraced him; after which they went and sat in the Prince’s tent. After some time Kamran said, “as your Majesty has now arrived in safety, and regained possession of your throne, I request you will forgive our younger brother, the Prince Hindal, his improper conduct for my sake.”* The King replied, “I forgive him at your request: write to him that he may come to court in safety. ”
Soon after the King had remounted his throne, the water carrier who had enabled him to swim the Ganges paid his respects; and his Majesty remembering his royal promise, seated him for two hours upon the throne, and desired him to ask for whatever he wished.
Some days afterwards the King held a public court at the Stone Palace in the garden of the late Emperor Baber, at which were present all the Princes and Nobles.
When the assembly were seated, the King, turning to his brother Kamrân, said, “tell me honestly what was the reason of Hindal rebelling against me.” Kamrân did not answer his Majesty; but addressing Hindal, asked, “how did it happen that, instead of sending assistance to his Majesty, you deserted him in his distress?” Hindal was much ashamed; laid the blame on his evil advisers, and pleaded his own youth and inexperience; acknowledged his fault, and asked forgiveness. The King replied, “very well, as you now repent and have asked pardon, I forgive you, but it is at the request of your brother; I hope this will be a warning to you never to listen to the insidious advice of evil-minded persons; don’t you recollect the story of the discord that took place among the companions of the prophet in consequence of the malicious advice of some of his slanderers.” He then added, “what has passed, has passed, let us think no more of it, but let us be unanimous and devise means to repel Shyr Shâh and the Afghâns, who after concluding peace with me at Chowsar, acted treacherously, attacked me at night, and have now gained possession of all my territory as far as Canouge.”
The Princes and Nobles replied, “by the grace of God, and the good fortune of your Majesty, we will henceforward evince our bravery and attachment in such a manner as completely to subdue all your enemies.” Soon after this conversation the prayer for success was read, and his Majesty commanded that at the end of the month Zykâd the royal tents should be pitched in the garden of Zer Afshân, as the preliminary of our marching against the enemy.
The Prince Kamrân entreated that the King would remain in his capital, and permit him to command the army, and promised that he would give a good account of the Afghâns, but the King replied, “No, Shyr Khãn defeated me, and I will have my revenge of him, do you remain here;” in short it was determined that the King should lead the army in person, and the Prince continue in charge of Agra.