Of the circumstances that occurred in the year 776, my age being then forty, was the rebellion excited by Amyr Sārbugha and Aādil Shāh; these chiefs compassionating the distressed state of the Jete Commander, Kummer Addyn, went and joined him, and he having obtained a reinforcement from the Khān of Jetteh, proceeded at their instigation to invade Andijān; on their arrival there, they dispersed and plundered the horde of Kuzāk, who were under the protection of the Prince Omer Shykh.* My son thought it advisable to retreat before the enemy into the mountains, to effect this, he drew out his army and shewed himself, he then fell back, and by degrees having enticed them among the fastnesses, he cut off their retreat, and made a number of the Jetes the food of his victorious sword. He (Omer Shykh) then sent an express to in­form me of all these circumstances; I immediately gave orders for the army to be assembled, and having placed my foot in the stirrup, set out to join my son. When we reached the village of Atbashy, I received intelligence that Kummer Addyn had again retreated, but this proved to be a stratagem of his, for having collected his dispersed troops, he waited in ambuscade, with a select party. In consequence of the false information I had received, I ordered Shykh Aly, Akti­mūr, and two other chiefs, to pursue the Jetes with all their forces; my faithful generals having bent their knees, represented that they would not leave me un­protected, on which I was very angry with them; they in consequence set off with great expedition, but I having repented of my passion, followed them gently, not having with me more than three hundred horse.

When I had lost sight of my army, Kummer Addyn came out from his am­buscade, and approached me; my followers on seeing the enemy, were much alarmed, I however encouraged them, and put on my armour: when my troops saw that I was resolved on death or victory, they became of one heart, and I formed them into six divisions, and waited for the enemy.

Kummer Addyn having drawn out his army, and being desirous of revenge, attacked us, and in the second or third charge, came up close to me; I raised my sword, and gave him such a blow on the helmet that he was stunned; at this instant one of his servants seized his bridle, and led him out of the battle, upon which his army took to flight. After having been joined by my army, I pursued the enemy, and at the end of eight Fersukh, came up with them; I then gave orders to surround Kummer Addyn, but he continued fighting and retreat­ing till only seven of his soldiers remained with him: as his horse was wounded, and he could not procure another, he dismounted, and for some time hid himself among the people on foot; he then threw off his armour, and concealed himself in a hole in a cave. The next morning his horse was brought to me, but we could not find the fugitive; my officers all said he had certainly gone to the other world, I did not coincide with them, and ordered the search to be continued on all sides; but as we could not discover any trace of him, I determined to return to Samerkund.

As I had left my eldest son the Prince Muhammed Jehangyr very ill at Samer­kund, my mind was very anxious on his account; one night I dreamt that I was seated in a boat with the Prince, that the boat sunk, and although I endeavoured to catch the hand of my son, I could not effect it, and he was drowned; I was therefore much affected by this dream, nor could I obtain any intelligence of the Prince till after I had crossed the Sihūn.

When I arrived in the vicinity of Samerkund, I saw a number of the nobles, and the principal inhabitants of the city who had come out to meet me, clothed in black; as soon as I saw the procession, I was convinced that the fatal event had taken place, and was much distressed and afflicted: the Imperial Etiquette would not permit me to put on mourning, but I shut myself up for several days, and lamented extremely for two reasons; first, on my son’s account, that so fine a young man of only twenty years of age, should so soon have been called to another world; secondly, on my own account, that such a tree, the support of my empire, should have been broken down. But I comforted myself by reflect­ing that two verdant branches of my son still flourished, the first, the Prince Peer Muhammed, to whom I gave the title of his father, Jehangyr;* the other, Muhammed Sultān, to both of whom I assigned a high place of honour in my public courts. Amyr Syf Addeen, who had been the preceptor of my son, was so much affected by his loss, that he forsook the world and became a hermit.