As the army had taken to desert, it was judged better to risk a battle than to see it go to ruin without fighting. If the result was unfavourable, in that case we could not at least be accused of having abandoned an empire like Hindústán without striking a blow. Another consideration was, that if we passed the river, desertion would be no longer possible. We therefore crossed over.

Both armies entrenched themselves. Every day skirmishes occurred between the adventurous swaggering spirits of both sides. These proceedings were put an end to by the monsoon rains, which came on and flooded the ground, rendering it unfit for a camp. To move was indispensable. Opinions were expressed that another such a deluge would sink the whole army in the abyss of despair, and it was proposed to move to a rising ground which the inundation could not reach, and which lay in front of the enemy. I went to reconnoitre, and found a place suitable for the purpose. I said that we would on the morrow try the enemy on the touchstone of experience, for he ought not to attack while we were on the march, as the arraying of an army at the time of marching is contrary to sound judgment.* The morrow was the 10th of Muharram, and we must keep our forces well under control until we see if the enemy comes out of his trenches and advances against us. Then at last a regular pitched battle will be fought between us. The proper plan for us is to place the mortars (deg) and swivels (zarb-zan) in front; and the gunners, nearly 5000 in number, must be stationed with the guns. If he does come out to attack us, there is no time or place more suitable than this for battle. If he does not come out of his entrenchments, we must remain drawn up till about mid-day, and then return to our position. Next day we must act just in the same way. Then the baggage must move to the new position, and we must follow and occupy the place. This scheme of mine met with general approbation.

On the 10th Muharram, 948 H., we mounted to carry the plan into effect, and formed our array. As had been determined, the carriages (gardún) and mortars (deg) and small guns (topakchiyán) were placed in the centre. The command of the guns was given to Muhammad Khán Rúmí, the sons of Ustád 'Ali Kulí, Ustád Ahmad Rúmí, and Husain Khalífa. They placed the carriages and mortars (deg) in their proper positions, and stretched chains between them. In other divisions there were amírs of no repute, men who were amírs only in name. They had got possession of the country, but they had not a tincture of prudence or know­ledge, or energy or emulation, or nobility of mind or generosity —qualities from which nobility draws its name. The Emperor had posted the author of this work upon his left, so that his right flank should be on the Emperor's left. In the same position he had placed a force of chosen troops. On my left, all my retainers were stationed. I had 400 chosen men, inured to warfare and familiar with battle, fifty of whom were mounted on horses accoutred with armour. Between me and the river (júí-bár) there was a force of twenty-seven amírs, all of whom carried the túgh banner. In this position, also, were the other components of the left wing, and they must be judged of by the others. On the day of battle, when Sher Khán, having formed his divisions, marched out, of all these twenty-seven túgh banners not one was to be seen, for the great nobles had hidden them in the apprehension that the enemy might advance upon them. The soldiership and bravery of the amírs may be conceived from this exhibition of courage.

Sher Khán came out in five divisions of 1000 men each, and in advance of him (peshtar i o) were 3000 men. I estimated the whole as being less than 15,000, but I calculated the Chaghatáí force as about 40,000, all mounted on tipchák horses, and clad in iron armour. They surged like the waves of the sea, but the courage of the amírs and officers of the army was such as I have described. When Sher Khán's army came out of its entrench­ments, two divisions (jauk), which seemed to be equal to four divisions, drew up in that place, and three divisions advanced against their opponents. On our side I was leading the centre, to take up the position which I had selected; but when we reached the ground, we were unable to occupy it: for every amír and wazír in the Chaghatáí army, whether he be rich or poor, has his ghuláms. An amír of note with his 100 retainers and followers has 500 servants and ghuláms, who in the day of battle render no assistance to their master and have no control over themselves. So in whatever place there was a conflict, the ghuláms were entirely ungovernable. When they lost their masters, they were seized with panic, and blindly rushed about in terror.* In short it was impossible to hold our ground. They so pressed upon us in the rear, that they drove the centre upon the chains stretched between the chariots, and they and the soldiers dashed each other upon them. Those who were behind so pressed upon those who were in front, that they broke through the chains. The men who were posted by the chains were driven beyond it, and the few who remained behind were broken, so that all formation was destroyed.

Such was the state of the centre. On the right Sher Khán advanced in battle array; but before an arrow was discharged, the camp followers fled like chaff before the wind, and breaking the line they all pressed towards the centre. The ghuláms whom the commanders had sent to the front rushed to the lines of chariots, the whole array was broken, and the mír was separated from his men, and the men from the mír. While the centre was thus thrown into disorder, all the fugitives from the right bore down upon it. So before the enemy had discharged an arrow, the whole army was scattered and defeated. I had estimated the Chaghatáí army as numbering 40,000 men, ex­cluding the camp followers (ghulám) and workmen (shágird-pesha ). They fled before 10,000 men, and Sher Khán gained a victory, and the Chaghatáís were defeated in this battle-field where not a man, either friend or foe, was wounded. Not a gun was fired, and the chariots (gardún) were useless.

When the Chaghatáís took to flight, the distance between their position and the Ganges might be nearly a parasang. All the amírs and braves (bahádurán) fled for safety to the river, without a man of them having received a wound. The enemy pursued them, and the Chaghatáís, having no time to throw off their armour and coats, plunged into the river. The breadth of the river might be about five bowshots. Many illustrious amírs were drowned, and each one remained or went on at his will. When we came out of the river, His Majesty, who at mid-day had 17,000 workmen in attendance upon his Court, was mounted upon a horse which had been given to him by Tardi Beg, and had nothing on his head or feet. “Permanence is from God, and dominion is from God.” Out of 1000 retainers, eight persons came out of the river; the rest had perished in the water. The total loss may be estimated from this fact. When we reached Ágra, we made no tarry, but, broken and dispirited, in a state heart-rending to relate, we went on to Lahore. On the new moon of Rabí'u-l awwal, 947 H., the princes, amírs, and people had drawn together at Lahore. The throng was so great that it was difficult to move about, and still more difficult to find a lodging. Every one acted as his fears or his interests led him.]