Vaqi'at-i Bāburī - The Memoirs of Bābur, Volume 2

of the drug which is used by the inhabitants of the country to intoxicate the fishes, and took a very great quantity of fish. Mīr Shah Beg presented me with a horse, and gave us a dinner. From thence we went on to Gulbehār. After bed-time prayers we had a drinking party. Derwīsh Muhammed Sārbān was present at these parties. Though young, and a soldier, yet he never indulged in wine. He always rigidly abstained from it. Kūtluk Khwājeh Gokultāsh had for a long time renounced the profession of arms, and become a Derwīsh. He was very aged, and his beard had become white, but he always joined us at our wine in these jovial drinking parties. ‘Does not the hoary beard of Kūtluk Khwājeh make you ashamed?’ said I to Muhammed Derwīsh; ‘Old as he is, and white as is his beard, he always drinks wine. You, a soldier, young, with a black beard, and never drink! What sense is there in this?’ It never was my custom, as I did not think it polite, to press anybody to drink who did not wish; so that this passed as a mere pleasantry, and he was not induced to take wine.

Next morning we had a morning cup.

On Wednesday, we left Gulbehār, and came to the village of Alūn,¹ where we dined, and then went on to Bāghāt khām, where we halted. After noon-day prayers we had a drinking party.

Next morning, we set out again on our progress, and after having visited and circumambulated the tomb of Khwājeh Khan-Saīd, embarked in a raft at Chīneh Kurghāneh. At the conflux of the river Penjhīr, where the hill juts out, the raft struck on a rock, and began to sink. When the raft struck, the shock was so violent, that Rūhdem, Tengri Kuli, and Mīr Muhammed Jālehbān, were tossed into the river. Rūhdem and Tengri Kuli were dragged again into the raft with much difficulty. A china cup with a spoon and cymbal fell overboard. Putting off from thence, as we reached a place opposite to Sang-e-burīdeh (the Cut-rock), the raft again struck on something in the midst of the stream, I know not whether the branch of a tree, or a stake, which had been driven in for making a stop-water. Shah Hassan Shah Beg went over on his back. While falling, he laid hold of Mirza Kuli Gokultāsh, and drew him in along with him. Derwīsh Muhammed Sārbān likewise tumbled into the water. Mirza Kuli Gokultāsh fell in an odd way. He had in his hand a knife for cutting melons, which, while in the act of falling, he struck into the mat that was spread over the raft, and fell overboard. Not being able to regain the raft, he kept swimming in his gown and dress of honour, till he reached the shore. On disembarking from the raft, we passed that night in the raftsmen’s houses. Derwīsh Muhammed made me a present of a cup of seven colours, like that which had fallen overboard.

On Friday, we left the banks of the river. We halted on the skirt of a small hill situated lower down than Koh-Bārik,^a where I plucked a number of toothpicks¹ with my own hand.^b About noon-day prayers, we halted in Kūtluk Khwājeh’s village,² in a district of Lamghān. Kūtluk A. D. 1519. Khwājeh got ready a hasty dinner, of which I partook; after which I rode back to Kābul.

On Monday the 25th, I bestowed a khilaat i khāseh³ (or dress of honour of the highest degree), and a saddled horse, on Derwīsh Muhammed Sārbān, and he was presented on being raised to the rank of Beg.^c For four or five months August 24. I had never cut the hair of my head. On Wednesday the 27th I had it cut. This day we had a drinking party.

On Friday the 29th, I invested Mīr Khūrd with the office of governor to Hindāl, on which occasion he brought me a present of a thousand shahrokhis.⁴

On Wednesday, the 5th of Ramzān, one Jekni, a servant of Tūlik Gokultāsh Birlās,^a came from his master with a letter reporting that an Uzbek plundering party had appeared in his neighbourhood, and that he had overtaken, attacked, and defeated it. The messenger brought one Uzbek alive, and the head of another.

On the night of Saturday the 8th, we went to Kāsim Beg’s house, and broke our fast.¹ He presented me with a saddled horse. Next morning, we broke our fast at the house of Khalīfeh, who presented me with a saddled horse.

The morning after, Khwājeh Muhammed Ali and Jān Nāsir, who had been sent for in order to consult about military matters, arrived from their governments.

On Wednesday the 12th, Sultan Ali Mirza, the maternal uncle of Kāmrān, who, in the year in which I passed over from Khost to Kābul, had proceeded to Kāshghar, as has been mentioned, waited on me.

On Thursday, the 13th of Ramzān, I set out on an expedition for the purpose of repelling and chastising the Yūsefzais, and halted at a valley^b which lies near Deh-Yākub, on the Kābul side of that village. As I was mounting my horse, Bāba Jān, my waiting-man, having presented it in an awkward manner,^c I was angry, and struck him a blow on the face with my fist, by which I dislocated my thumb. I did not feel it much at the time; but when I had dismounted at the end of our march, it had become extremely painful. For a long while I suffered excessively from it, and I was unable to write a single letter. It got well, however, at last.

At this station, one Kutlūkdam,^d a foster-brother of my aunt, Doulet Sultan Khanum, arrived from Kāshghar, bringing letters and news of the Khanum.

The same day, Būkhān and Mūsa, the chiefs of the Dilazāks, came with their tribute, and were introduced.^e

On Sunday the 16th, Kūch Beg arrived.

On Wednesday the 19th, we marched, and, passing by But-khāk,¹ halted in the place where we had been accustomed to encamp on the banks of the But-khāk river. As Bāmiān, Kahmard, Ghūri, and the districts held by Kūch Beg, were much exposed, in consequence of the vicinity of the Uzbeks, I excused him from accompanying the army; and at this station, presenting him with a turban which I myself had worn, together with a complete dress of honour, dismissed him to his government.

On Friday the 21st, we halted at Bādām-chashmeh.

Next morning, we halted at Bārīk-āb.² I went and rode all round Karayūl.^a In the course of this day’s march, we found honey in a tree. Advancing, march after march, on Wednesday the 26th we halted at Bāgh.³ All Thursday we stayed at Bāgh. On Friday, we marched, and halted after Sept. 21,
22, and 23. passing Sultānpūr. The same day, Mīr Shah Hussain arrived from his government. Būkhān and Mūsa, the chiefs of the Dilazāks, and the Dilazāks themselves, also arrived this day. I had intended to make an expedition against Sawād, in order to check the Yūsefzais. The Dilazāk chiefs represented to me, that, in Hashnaghar, there were a great number of Ulūs (or wandering tribes), who had large quantities of corn, and urged me to attack them. After consulting, I finally arranged that, as there seemed to be large quantities of grain in Hashnaghar, we should plunder the Afghans of that neighbourhood; that we should fit up the fort of Hashnaghar, or that of Pershāwer, and lay up magazines of grain in them; and that Mīr Shah Hussain should be left there with a body of troops for their defence. In consequence of this resolution, Mīr Shah Hussain got leave of absence for a fortnight, that he might go back to his government, and return with such warlike stores as were requisite.

Next morning, we resumed our march, and came to Jūī Shāhi,¹ where we halted. Tengri Berdi and Sultan Muhammed Duldāi overtook and joined us at this station. Hamzah likewise arrived this day from Kunduz.

On Sunday, the 30th of Ramzān, we marched from Jūī Shāhi, and halted at Kirik arik.² I went on board of a raft with a few of my intimate friends. We passed the feast of the new moon³ in this station. Some people had brought several animals loaded with wine from the valley of Nūr. After evening prayers, there was a drinking party, consisting of Muhibb Ali Korchi, Khwājeh Muhammed Ali Kitābdar, Shah Hassan Shah Beg, Sultan Muhammed Duldāi, and Derwīsh Muhammed Sārbān. Derwīsh Muhammed always abstained from wine. From my childhood down, it has been my rule that no one should be pressed to drink against his will. Derwīsh Muhammed was always of our parties, and never was urged to drink at all. Khwājeh Muhammed Ali would not suffer him to take his own way, but, by pressing and urging, made him drink some wine.

Early on Monday, being the day of the Īd,⁴ we renewed our march; on the way I took a maajūn to remove the crop sickness. At the time of my taking the maajūn^a they brought a coloquint apple.⁵ Derwīsh Muhammed had never seen one. I told him it was a Hindustāni melon, and cutting it up, gave him a slice, which he put hastily into his mouth, and chewed eagerly. The bitter taste did not leave A. D. 1519. his mouth that whole day. We halted on the rising ground of Garm-chashmeh.¹ Some meat had been already dressed and presented, when Langer Khan, who had been for some time at his place, arrived with an offering of some maajūn^a as tribute, and made a tender of his services. We went and halted at Badeh-sir. At afternoon prayers, I went aboard of a raft with several of my intimates, sailed down the stream about a kos, and then returned back.

Next morning we marched thence and halted at the bottom of the Kheiber Pass. The same day Sultan Bayazīd, who had passed over from Nilāb by way of Bāreh (whence, having got notice of my motions, he had traced me out), arrived and gave me information, that the Afrīdī² Afghans, with their families and property, were settled in Bāreh, where they had sown a great quantity of rice,³ which had not yet been carried off the ground. As I had fixed on plundering the country of the Yūsefzai Afghans and Hashnaghar, I did not care to meddle with these others. At noonday prayers, we had a drinking party at the quarters of Khwājeh Muhammed Ali. During this party I sent to Khwājeh Kalān at Bajour, by the hands of Sultan Tirāhi, a detailed account of our march into these countries. On the margin of the letter I wrote the following couplet:

O, Zephyr! kindly say to that beautiful fawn—
Thou hast condemned me to wander in the hills and deserts.⁴

Marching thence at dawn, we passed the defiles of Kheiber, and halted at Ali Masjid. Marching again about noon-day prayers, and leaving the baggage to follow, we reached the banks of the river of Kābul when the second watch was over,⁵ and had a short sleep. At break of day we discovered a ford, A. D 1519. and crossed the river. We got notice from our advanced party, that the Afghans had received information of our approach, and fled. Proceeding in our course we crossed the river of Sawād, and halted amidst the cornfields of the Afghans. We did not find one half of the grain that we had been led to expect; indeed, not one-fourth. I consequently gave up my intention of fortifying Hashnaghar as a dépôt. The Dilazāk chiefs who had urged us to make this inroad were rather mortified. About afternoon prayers we crossed to the Kābul side of the Sawād river, and halted.

Next morning, having marched from the Sawād river,¹ we crossed the Kābul river and halted. Having summoned the Begs who were admitted to council, we held a consultation, in which it was resolved to plunder the country of the Afrīdī Afghans, as had been proposed by Sultan Bayazīd, to fit up the fort of Peshāwer for the reception of their effects and corn, and to leave a garrison in it. Hindu Beg, and the Mīrzādehs² of Khost, joined us at this station. This day I took a maajūn. Derwīsh Muhammed Sārbān, Muhammed Gokultāsh, and Gadāi Taghāi, the captain of the night-guard, were of the party. We afterwards sent also for Shah Hassan. After dinner, about afternoon prayers, we embarked on a raft. We sent for Langer Khan Sāri likewise to join us on the raft. About evening prayers we landed and returned to the camp.

Marching early in the morning from the banks of the river, in execution of the plan which had been formed, and passing Jām,³ we halted on reaching the mouth of the river of Ali Masjid. Abul Hāshem Sultan Ali, who had followed us, reported, that on the eve of Arifeh,⁴ he had, at Jūi Shahi, met with a person who was come from Badakhshān, and who had informed him, that Sultan Saīd Khan was marching against Badakhshān, which had induced him to hasten to me with the intelligence. I immediately sent for the Begs and consulted them, when it was resolved to renounce our plan of garrisoning the fort, and to set out on an expedition into Badakhshān. I bestowed a dress of honour on Langer Khan, and appointing him to reinforce Muhammed Ali Jeng-Jeng, gave him his leave. That night we had a drinking party in Khwājeh Muhammed Ali’s tent.

Early next morning we set out on our march, and crossing the Kheiber Pass, halted at the foot of it. The Khizer-Khail had been extremely licentious in their conduct. Both on the coming and going of our army they had shot upon the stragglers, and such of our people as lagged behind or separated from the rest, and carried off their horses. It was clearly expedient that they should meet with a suitable chastisement. With this view, early in the morning, we marched from the foot of the Pass, and spent the noon in Deh-ghulāmān.¹ About noon-day prayers we fed our horses, and dispatched Muhammed Hussain Korchi to Kābul, with orders to seize all the Khizer-Khail in the place; to put their property under sequestration, and to send me an account of what was done. I also desired them to write minutely, and send by some swift person whatever information had been received from Badakhshān. That night we continued marching till midnight, and halted a little beyond Sultānpūr; from which place, after having taken a short sleep, we mounted again. The quarters of the Khizer-Khail extended from Bahār and Masīkh-kirām² as October 3. far as Kara-sū.³ The morning had dawned when we came up with and charged them. Much property, and many of their children, fell into the hands of our troops. A few of them gained a hill which was^a near at hand, and escaped.

Next morning we encamped at Kila-ghu, where we took A. D. 1519. some karkāwels. The baggage which had been left behind joined us to-day at this station.

The Wazīrī¹ Afghans had been very irregular in paying their taxes. Alarmed at this example of punishment, they now brought three hundred sheep as tribute.

Till my hand had got better I could not write at all. At October 9. this station, on Sunday the 14th, I was able to write a little.

Next morning the chiefs of the Khirilchi and Shamū-Khail arrived, accompanied by a body of Afghans. The Dilazāk chiefs earnestly besought me to overlook and forgive the offences of these people; I accordingly pardoned them, and set the prisoners at liberty. I fixed their tribute at four thousand sheep; and, having given their chiefs vests of honour, sent them back into their country, accompanied by collectors, whom I appointed.

Having settled these affairs, on Thursday the 18th we October 14. marched, and halted at Bahār and Masīkh-kirām. Next morning I reached the Bāgh-e-wafā; it was the season when the garden was in all its glory. Its grass-plots were all covered with clover; its pomegranate trees were entirely of a beautiful yellow colour. It was then the pomegranate season, and the pomegranates were hanging red on the trees. The orange trees were green and cheerful, loaded with innumerable oranges; but the best oranges were not yet ripe. Its pomegranates are excellent, though not equal to the fine ones of our country. I never was so much pleased with the Bāgh-e-wafā (the Garden of Fidelity), as on this occasion. During the three or four days that we stayed at the Garden, all the people in the camp had pomegranates in abundance.

On Monday we marched from the Garden; I stayed till the first watch, and bestowed the oranges on different persons. I gave Shah Hassan the oranges of two trees; to several Begs I gave one tree, and to several two orange trees.^a As I had an intention of travelling through the Lamghān in the winter, I desired them to save about twenty trees, around the piece of water, for my use. This day we reached Gandamak.

Next morning we halted at Jagdālīk. Towards evening prayers we had a drinking party; many of my courtiers were present. About the end of the party, Gadāi Muhammed, sister’s son of Kāsim Beg, became very noisy and troublesome; and, when he got drunk, placed himself on the pillow on which I reclined, whereupon Gadāi Taghāi turned him out of the party.

Marching thence, before break of day, I went to visit the country up the Bārīk-āb of^a Kūrūk-sāi. Many turāk¹ trees were in excellent bearing. We halted at that place; and, having dined on a dish called yulkerān, we drank wine in honour of the rich crop. We made them kill a sheep which was picked up on the road, caused some meat to be dressed, kindled a fire of oak branches, and entertained ourselves. Mulla Abdal Malūk Diwāneh having petitioned to be allowed to carry to Kābul the news of my approach, I accordingly dispatched him for that city.

Hassan Nabīreh, who had come on the part of Mirza Khan, after giving me due notice of his intentions, here met and waited on me. We continued at this place drinking till the sun was on the decline, when we set out. Those who had been of the party were completely drunk. Syed Kāsim was so drunk, that two of his servants were obliged to put him on horseback, and brought him to the camp with great difficulty. Dost Muhammed Bākir was so far gone, that Amīn Muhammed Terkhān, Masti Chihreh, and those who were along with him, were unable, with all their exertions, to get him on horseback. They poured a great quantity of water over him, but all to no purpose. At this moment a body of Afghans appeared in sight. Amīn Muhammed Terkhān, being very drunk, gravely gave it as his opinion, that rather than leave him, in the condition in which he was, to fall into the hands of the enemy, it was better at once to cut off his head and carry it away. Making another exertion, however, with much difficulty, they contrived to throw him upon a horse, which they led along, and so brought him off.

We reached Kābul at midnight. Next morning Kuli Beg, who had been sent to Kāshghar on an embassy to Sultan Saīd Khan, returned and waited on me in the hall of audience. Bishgeh Mirza ambārchi,¹ who had been sent along with Kuli Beg on an embassy to me, brought with him a few of the rarities of that country as presents.

On Wednesday, the first of Zilkaadeh, I went alone and had an early cup close by Kābil Beg’s^a tomb; the party afterwards dropped in, by one or two at a time. When the sun waxed hot, we retired to the Bāgh-e-banafsheh,² and sat down to our wine by the side of the piece of water. At mid-day we took a nap; and, about noon-day prayers, again returned to our wine. At this afternoon party, I gave wine to Tengri Kuli Beg and Mehndi, which I had never before done. At bed-time prayers I reached Hamām,³ and stayed there that night.

On Thursday, I bestowed dresses of honour on the merchants of Hindustān, who were under the guidance of Yāhīd Lūhāni, and gave them leave to depart.

On Saturday, the 4th of the month, I granted audience of leave to Bishgeh Mirza, who had come from Kāshghar, when I gave him a dress of honour, and made him some presents.

On Sunday, I had a party in the small Picture-cabinet that is over the gate. Although the apartment is very small, our party consisted of sixteen.

On Monday, I went to Istālīf, to see the harvest. This day I took a maajūn. During the night there was a great deal of rain. Most of the Begs and courtiers who had attended me were obliged to take refuge in my tent, which was pitched in the middle of a garden.^b

Next morning we had a drinking party in the same tent. A. D. 1519. We continued drinking till night. On the following morning we again had an early cup, and, getting intoxicated, Nov. 2. went to sleep. About noon-day prayers, we left Istālīf, and I took a maajūn on the road. It was about afternoon prayers before I reached Behzādi.¹ The crops were extremely good. While I was riding round the harvest-fields, such of my companions as were fond of wine began to contrive another drinking bout. Although I had taken a maajūn, yet, as the crops were uncommonly fine, we sat down under some trees that had yielded a plentiful load of fruit,^a and began to drink. We kept up the party in the same place till bed-time prayers. Mulla Mahmūd Khalīfeh having arrived, we invited him to join us. Abdallah, who had got very drunk, made an observation which affected Khalīfeh. Without recollecting that Mulla Mahmūd was present, he repeated the verse,

(Persian)—Examine whom you will, you will find him suffering from the same wound.

Mulla Mahmūd, who did not drink, reproved Abdallah for repeating this verse with levity.² Abdallah, recovering his judgement, was in terrible perturbation, and conversed in a wonderfully smooth and sweet strain all the rest of the evening.^b

On Thursday the 16th, I took a maajūn in the Bāgh-e-banafsheh, and embarked in a boat with several of my more intimate associates. Humāiūn and Kāmrān also joined us. Afterwards Humāiūn shot a water-fowl in very handsome style.

On Saturday the 18th, we rode out from the Chārbāgh and, after dismissing our grooms and attendants,^a and, after dismissing our grooms and attendants,^a passed Mulla Bāba’s bridge, and, mounting the strait of Deverīn,¹ reached the subterraneous water-runs² of Kūsh-nāder and Bāzāriān.³ We then passed behind Khirs-khāneh,⁴ and came late, about the time of the first sleep, to Terdi Beg Khāksār’s subterraneous conduit. Terdi Beg, on hearing of our arrival, ran out in a great hurry to wait on me. I well knew Terdi Beg’s thoughtless profuse turn, and that he did not dislike his glass. I had^b taken with me a hundred shahrokhis,⁵ which I now gave him, telling him to get ready wine and everything else for an entertainment, as I wished to make merry with some jolly companions. Terdi Beg set out for Behzādi to bring wine. I sent my horse with one of Terdi Beg’s slaves to graze in a valley, while I myself sat down behind the water-course, on a rising ground. It was past the first watch (nine o’clock) when Terdi Beg came back with a pitcher of wine, and we set about drinking it. While Terdi Beg was bringing the wine, Muhammed Kāsim Birlās and Shahzādeh, who had guessed at the object of his errand, but had no suspicion that I was concerned, had dogged Terdi Beg on foot. We invited them to be of the party. Terdi Beg said, that Hul-hul-ankeh wished to drink wine with us. I said, ‘I have never seen a woman drink wine: Call her to be of the party.’ He likewise sent for a kalender,⁶ called Shāhi, and a man connected with the conduit, who played on the rebeck.⁷ We sat drinking wine on the eminence behind the water-run till evening prayers; after which we went to Terdi Beg’s house, and drank by candle-light till after bed-time prayers. It was a wonderfully amusing and guileless party. I lay down, and the party went to another house, where they drank till the kettle-drum beat. Hul-hul-ankeh came, and was very riotous with me; at last, however, I threw myself down, as if completely drunk, and so escaped. I intended to mount my horse alone, and set off for Isterghach, without letting them know. They discovered my Nov. 13. design, however, so that it did not succeed. At length, when the kettle-drum beat, I mounted. Having desired Terdi Beg and Shahzādeh to accompany me, we all three rode on towards Isterghach. About early morning prayers we reached Khwājeh Hassan, below Istālīf. We halted for a little, and I took a maajūn, and made a circuit of the crops. Towards sunrise, we halted at the garden of Istālīf, and ate grapes, and finally halted and slept at Khwājeh Shahāb, in the territory of Isterghach. The house of Ata Mīr Akhūr was there. While we were asleep, he prepared an entertainment, and got ready a pitcher of wine. It was of excellent vintage. We drank several cups and mounted. At noon-day prayers, we alighted in a beautiful^a garden at Isterghach, and had a merry party. In a little time Khwājeh Muhammed Amīn joined us. We continued drinking till night prayers. During the course of that night and day, Abdallah, Asas, Nūr Beg, and Yūsef Ali arrived from Kābul.

Next morning we breakfasted, and rode round the Bāgh-e-pādshāhi,¹ which is below Isterghach. One apple-tree had been in excellent bearing. On some branches^b five or six scattered leaves still remained, and exhibited a beauty which the painter, with all his skill, might attempt in vain to portray. From Isterghach we rode to Khwājeh Hassan, where we dined. About evening prayers, we came to Behzādi, and drank wine in the house of one of Khwājeh Muhammed Amīn’s servants, named Imām Muhammed.

Next morning, being Tuesday, we arrived at the Chārbāgh Nov. 17. of Kābul. On Thursday the 23rd I entered the fort.

On Friday, Muhammed Ali Haider Rikābdar having taken a tūeghūn,² brought it in and presented it to me.

On Saturday the 25th, I had a party in the Bāgh-e-chenār.³ About bed-time prayers I mounted. As Syed Kāsim had taken offence at something, I alighted on coming to his house, and drank a few glasses.

On Thursday, the 1st of Zilhijeh, Tājed dīn Mahmūd, who had come from Kandahār, waited on me.

On Monday the 19th, Muhammed Ali Jeng-Jeng arrived from Nilāb.

On Tuesday, Sanger Khan Jenjūheh, who had come from Behreh, waited on me.

On Friday the 23rd, I finished my extracts from the four diwāns of Ali Sher Beg, the ghazels of which I had selected and arranged according to their measure.

On Tuesday the 27th, I had a party in the citadel. In this party, the rule was, that every person who got drunk should leave the place, and another person be invited to supply his room.^a

On Friday, the 30th of Zilhijeh, I set out to make a circuit of Lamghān.

THE OCCURRENCES OF 926.¹

ON Saturday, the 1st of Muharrem, I reached Khwājeh Sehyārān, and had a drinking party upon the mound, which had been thrown up by the Jūī-nou (or new river).^b

Next morning, I mounted and rode to visit Reg i rawān.² I alighted at the Khāneh bulbuli,³ belonging to Syed Kāsim, where we had a party.

Next morning, I mounted and continued my tour. I took a maajūn, and went on till we reached Bilker. Although we had taken wine over-night, in the morning we had a morning cup. About noon-day prayers, we proceeded on to Durnāmeh,⁴ where we halted, and had a drinking party. Before break of Dec. 27. day, we had a morning draught. Hak-dād, the chief of Durnāmeh, presented me with his garden as a peshkesh.

On Thursday, we mounted and rode on to Deh-Tājikān,¹ in Nijrau, where we halted.

On Friday, we hunted the hill which lies between Kulbeh² and the river Bārān, and killed many deer. From the time my finger was hurt I had never drawn an arrow. This day I shot an arrow right on the shoulder-bone of a stag. The arrow entered half-way up to the feather. At afternoon prayers I left the chase, and proceeded on to Nijrau.

Next morning, the tribute of the inhabitants was fixed at sixty mishkāls³ of gold.

On Monday, I set out again on my tour in Lamghān. I had intended to have carried Humāiūn along with me on this journey, but he preferred staying, and I took leave of him at the Pass of Kūra; after which I went on, and halted at Bedrau.^a The fishermen take great quantities of fish in the river of Bārān. At afternoon prayers I embarked on a raft, and had a drinking party. After evening prayers I landed from the raft, and again sat down to wine in the public tents.^b Haidar Ālemdār⁴ had been sent by me to the Kāfers. He met me below the Pass of Bādīj, accompanied by some of their chiefs, who brought with them a few skins of wine.^c While coming down the Pass, he saw prodigious numbers of chikors.^{5 d}

Next morning I went on board of a raft, and ate a maajūn. Landing below Bulān, I returned to the camp.

Marching again on Friday, I halted at Dāmeneh⁶ below Mandrāwar. At night, we had a drinking party.

On Saturday I embarked in a raft, and passing the strait of Darūta,⁷ landed higher up than Jehān-nūmāi. We went to the Bāgh-e-wafā, which is opposite to Adīnāpūr. Kiyām Urdūshah, the Hākim of Nangenhār, met us as we landed from the raft, and paid me his respects. Langer Khan Niāzai,¹ who had long been in Nilāb, waited on me on the road, and offered me his duty. We alighted at the Bāgh-e-wafā. Its oranges were well advanced in their yellow hue, and the verdure of the green plants was beautiful. We stayed five or six days in the Bāgh-e-wafā. As I intended, when forty years old, to abstain from wine,² and as now I wanted somewhat less than one year of being forty, I drank wine most copiously.

On Sunday the 16th, I took an early draught, and when sobered, as I was taking a maajūn, Mulla Yārek played an air which he had composed in the panjgāh time, to the mukhammas³ measure. The air was beautiful. For some time I had not much attended to such matters. I took a fancy that I too should compose something, and was induced by this incident to compose an air in the chārgāh measure, as will be mentioned in its proper place.

On Wednesday, while taking an early glass, I said in sport that every person who sang a Tājik air^a should receive a goblet of wine. In consequence of this, many persons drank their goblet of wine. About nine in the morning, some persons who were sitting in our party under a tāl tree,^{b 4} proposed that every one who sang a Tūrki song^c should have a goblet of wine, and numbers sang their song, and claimed and received their goblet of wine. When the sun mounted high we went under the orange-trees, and drank our wine on the banks of the canal.^d

Next morning I left Darūta, embarked on the raft, and passing Jūī Shāhi, reached Ater. At Ater we mounted on horseback, and rode through the valley of Nūr, till we had reached and passed the village of Sūsan. We halted at Amleh.^e

Khwājeh Kalān had regulated everything at Bajour, and brought the country into the best order. As he was a prudent and able counsellor, I sent for him that he might be along with me, and I gave Shah Mīr Hussain the charge of Bajour. Jan. 14. On Saturday the 22nd, I gave Shah Mīr Hussain his audience of leave. This day, likewise, I had a drinking party at Amleh.

Next morning it rained heavily. I went from Kuner to Kileh-Kerām,¹ where Malik Kuli had a house, and halted at his second son’s house, which was situated overlooking an orange plantation. As the rain prevented our going out among the orange-trees, we had our wine in the house. The rain poured down in torrents. I knew a charm, and taught it to Mulla Ali Jān. He wrote it on four scraps of paper, and hung it up to the four points of the compass; the rain ceased that moment, and the sky immediately began to clear up.

The following morning I went on board of one raft, and some young men embarked in another. In Sawād, Bajour, and the neighbouring countries, they make a peculiar kind of būzeh (or beer).² There is a substance which they call kīm, composed of the tops^a of certain herbs, and of various drugs. They make it round like a loaf, and then dry and lay it up. This kīm is the essence from which the būzeh (or beer) is made. Many of the potions composed of it are wonderfully exhilarating, but they are terribly bitter and ill-tasted. I had thoughts of taking this buzeh, but, from its extreme bitterness, was unable to swallow it: I then took a little maajūn. I desired Asas, Hassan Ikerek, and Masti, who were in the other raft, to drink some of the potion, which they did, and became intoxicated. Hassan Ikerek immediately began to play a number of unpleasant freaks. Asas, also, became perfectly drunk; and performed so many disagreeable pranks as to make us quite uncomfortable; insomuch, that we had thoughts of turning them out of the raft, and of landing A. D. 1519. them on the opposite side of the river, but were prevailed upon by urgent entreaties^a to desist.

I have mentioned that I had bestowed Bajour on Shah Mīr Hossain, and recalled Khwājeh Kalān. Having a high opinion of Khwājeh Kalān as a wise and able counsellor, I did not wish to prolong his residence in Bajour; I was of opinion, too, that the management of Bajour was now become easier. I met Shah Mīr Hossain, as he was on his way to Bajour, at the passage over the river of Kuner, sent for him, and had some^b conversation with him; after which I gave him one of my own corslets,¹ and he took leave. When we came opposite to Nūrgil, an old man came and begged alms; the people in the raft each gave him something, a robe, a turban, or a sash; in this way, the old man received articles to a considerable amount. About mid-way the raft struck on some bad ground. We were much afraid; but though the raft did not sink, Mīr Muhammed, who guided it, was pitched into the water. We passed Jan. 17. that night near Ater. On Tuesday we came to Mandrāwar.² Kutlūk Kadem, and his father Doulet Kadem, prepared for us an entertainment. Although the place had nothing beautiful to recommend it, yet, to please them, I drank a few glasses of wine, and returned to the camp about afternoon prayers.

On Wednesday we went and visited the fountain of Gidger.³ Gidger is a district dependent on the Tumān of Mandrāwar. In this district alone, of all the Lamghānāt, are there any dates. The village stands higher up than the dāmenkoh (skirts of the hills); its date groves lie to the east of it. It is situated on the edge of the date groves, in an open space. Six or seven cubits below the fountain, they have built a barricade of stones, for retaining the water for the purpose of bathing. The water is made to run over this basin in such a way as to fall on the heads of those who bathe below. The water of this fountain is extremely soft; if any one bathes in it in winter, his limbs at first feel excessively cold, but afterwards, however long he stay in, his sensations become altogether agreeable.

On Thursday, Sher Khān Turkolāni made us alight at his house, and entertained us. About noon-day prayers we mounted again, and setting out, reached the fishing-houses or pools, which have been built for taking fish. These fishing-houses have already been described.

On Friday we halted near a village under the charge of Mīr Mirān. About evening prayers we had a party.

On Saturday we hunted the hill which lies between Alisheng and Alingār. On one side the men of Alisheng, and on the other the people of Alingār, made a ring, and drove in the deer from the hill; numbers of deer were killed. On leaving the chase we halted at Alingār, in the Bāgh-e malikān,¹ and had a party. The half of one of my front teeth had been broken off, and the other half left; this day, while I was eating, the half that had been left also came out.

Next morning I mounted, and went and threw a net for fish.² It was noon before I went to a garden at Alisheng, where we drank wine.

Next morning Khamzeh Khan, the Malik of Alisheng, having been guilty of many crimes, and spilt innocent blood in murder, I delivered him up to the avengers³ of blood, by whom he was put to death in retaliation.

On Tuesday, having read a section of the Koran, I returned for Kābul, by way of Yan-būlāgh. About afternoon prayers we passed the river at Alghātū.⁴ At evening prayers we came to Karanghu,^a where, having fed our horses and taken a hasty dinner, we remounted the instant our horses had finished their barley.

SUPPLEMENT
CONTAINING
AN ABRIDGED VIEW OF BĀBUR’S TRANSACTIONS
FROM A.H. 926 TO A.H. 932.¹

ANOTHER hiatus here occurs in all the manuscripts, and extends for a space of nearly six years, from the beginning of Safer A. H. 926, to the beginning of Safer A. H. 932; from the end of what is generally called Bābur’s second expedition into India, to the beginning of his fifth and final invasion of that country. The materials for supplying this blank are not so copious as might have been expected. Abulfazl, who wrote in Hindustān, in the reign, and at the court of Bābur’s grandson, whose secretary he was, and from whom we might therefore have expected the most authentic and ample details of Bābur’s different invasions of A. D. 1505. India, treats the march of Bābur in 910, when he took Kohat, passed through Bannu, went down the Sind as far as the territory of Multān, and returned to Kābul by Chotiāli and Āb i istādeh, as the first;² the expedition on the Cheghānserāi, A. D. 1507. or Kashkār river,³ in 913, in his account is the second, probably because Bābur had, at one period of this expedition, formed the intention of proceeding to Hindustān, an ntention which he did not accomplish; and the expedition A. D. 1519. to Behreh in 925, is the third: of the fourth, he acknowledges that he had not been able to get any account; an acknowledgement which, at the same time that it shows the uncertainty of tradition, seems also to prove that Abulfazl, who on other occasions follows the Memoirs of Bābur, had them in exactly the same imperfect state in which they have come down to our times; and the recapitulation of previous events which the Memoirs themselves contain, in the beginning of the account of the transactions of the year 932 of the Hijira, seems to confirm the same supposition; since, had an account of all the transactions of the six preceding years been given by way of journal, it would have rendered the recapitulation, by which the history of that year is prefaced, altogether unnecessary. It is plain, however, that Bābur regarded his expedition into Bhīra, or Behreh, in A. H. 925, not as his third, but as his first expedition into Hindustān; so that the ignorance of Abulfazl was greater than he himself supposed.

The expedition against the Yūsefzais and refractory Afghans, which is described by Bābur in the end of the year 925, and from which he was recalled by the events in Badakhshān, is regarded by Ferishta as his second¹ expedition into Hindustān; but Bābur himself does not intimate that he had any intention at that time of crossing the Indus. It appears, however, that Peshāwer, or Bekrām, as well as a great part of the country west of the Indus, were anciently regarded as belonging to India; whence the inaccuracy apparent on this subject among the writers of Hindustān may perhaps in part proceed. Indeed, Bābur himself informs us, that Kandahār was formerly regarded as the boundary between Hindustān and Khorasān. I am not, however, convinced that Bābur reckoned this as one of his invasions of Hindustān.

Bābur’s third expedition against Hindustān appears to have been made A. H. 926. In his way through Bhīra he inflicted punishment on those who had formerly joined him, but who had afterwards been seduced to revolt and to expel his officers. He drove from the country some Afghans, while he put to death and made prisoners a number of others, to the great relief of the peasantry and labouring classes whom they had oppressed. He advanced to Siālkot, the inhabitants of which submitted and saved their possessions; but the inhabitants of Syedpūr, who resisted, were put to the sword, their wives and children carried into captivity, and all their property plundered. Bābur at this time received information that his territories had been invaded on the side of Kandahār by Shah Beg, which obliged him to interrupt his expedition, and to return to the defence of his dominions. He soon drove Shah Beg from the field, and shut him up in his capital, which he kept in a state of partial blockade for nearly three years. For the reduction of Kandahār, which was a place of great strength, he appears to have trusted more to the effects of his annual¹ invasions in wasting and ruining the surrounding country, than to the operations of an active siege.

The events which had occurred proved to him the necessity of leaving his own territories quiet and protected, before he ventured upon foreign conquests. In the course of the year 927 of the Hijira, having received information of the death of Khan Mirza² in Badakhshān, he bestowed that country on Humāiūn Mirza, his eldest son. The same year he again entered the territories of Shah Beg, and reduced him to great distress.³

The following year, 928, seems to have been marked by the final reduction of Kandahār.⁴ Shah Beg had retired towards Shāl,⁵ Dour,⁶ and Siwistān, and in the end conquered the kingdom of Sind.¹ Bābur pursuing his successes, occupied the country of Garmsīr along the Helmend, which had been part of the dominions of Shah Beg. The year A. D. 1523. 929 he occupied in various expeditions within his own territories, in checking the refractory Afghans, and in introducing some degree of order and arrangement into the affairs of his government.

The invasion of Hindustān had long been the favourite object of Bābur’s ambition. The Uzbeks had established themselves in too great force in Māweralnaher to leave him any hopes of expelling them. Khorasān had been occupied by the Safavi dynasty of Persian kings, who were now in the height of their power and glory; while the provinces of Hindustān, which in all ages have been an easy prey to the rapacity of every invader, afforded the prospect of a rich and a splendid conquest. The moment was every way favourable to such an attempt. The empire of Delhi was not then what it afterwards became under Akber or Aurengzeb, nor even what it had been under Muhammed Ghori or Alā ud dīn Khilji.?? For some time past, it had been in the hands of Afghan invaders. The reign of Ibrahīm had been an unvaried scene of confusion and revolts. His haughty and cruel temper, joined to the impolitic arrogance with which he had treated the Afghan nobles, who considered themselves as having raised his family to the throne, and as being still placed not very far below it, had completely alienated their affections. Many of his discontented nobles had retired beyond the Ganges, and the whole eastern provinces, from Badāun to Behār, were in the hands of rebels, who occupied Behār itself. So extensive had the defection become, that his dominions did not extend much beyond Delhi, Agra, the Doāb, Biāna, and Chanderi. Bengal had still its own sovereign, as well as Malwa and Guzerāt. The Rājpūt Princes, from Mewāt to Udaipūr, had joined in a confederacy, of which Rāna Sanka, the Prince of Udaipūr, was at the head. The Panjāb was held by Doulet Khan, and his sons Ghāzi Khan and Dilāwer Khan, who, Afghans themselves, were alarmed at the fate of the Afghan nobles in other parts of the empire, and eager to deliver themselves from the power of the emperor; persuaded that it was safer to rebel than to continue in subjection to a prince whose violent and unrelenting disposition, adding new terrors to the harsh maxims of his government, had destroyed all confidence in him. Guided by their fears, they sent envoys to offer their allegiance to Bābur, and to beseech him to march to their succour.¹ No circumstance could have been more in unison Bābur in-
vited into
Hindustān
A. H. 930.
A. D. 1524.
Fourth ex-
pedition. with his wishes. He made instant preparations for the expedition, and entered Hindustān for the fourth time.

He marched by the country of the Gakkers, whom he reduced to obedience. Behār Khan Lodi, Mubārek Khan Lodi, and some other Afghan Amīrs, who were still in the interest of Ibrahīm, or who disliked the arrival of a foreign enemy, collected a large body of Afghans, and gave him battle as he approached Lahore, the capital of the province.² The Afghans were defeated, and the conquerors, elated with their success, and enraged at the obstinacy of the resistance, Burns
Lahore. plundered and burned the bazar and town of Lahore. He next advanced to Debālpūr, the garrison of which holding out, the place was stormed, and a general massacre ensued.

At Debālpūr he was joined by Doulet Khan, and his sons Ghāzi Khan, and Dilāwer Khan, who, after their revolt, had been compelled to seek refuge among the Balūches.³ They informed him that Ismāel Jilwāni was lying on the side of a rising ground near Sitāra,⁴ with a large body of troops intending to harass him in his advance, and that it would be expedient to send a detachment to disperse them. Bābur was making preparations for acting in conformity with this advice, when he was secretly informed by Dilāwer Khan that it was given with a treacherous intention, Doulet Khan being very desirous of dividing Bābur’s army in order to serve his own purpose. Bābur was soon after convinced, or pretended to be convinced, from concurring circumstances, of the truth of this information, and threw Doulet Khan and Ghazi Khan into prison. He was soon, however, prevailed on to release them, and gave them in jagīr¹ the town of Sultānpūr, which the father had built, with its dependencies. They were afterwards permitted to repair it, where they employed their time in preparing Revolt of
Doulet
Khan. everything for a revolt, and soon after fled, but took shelter in the hill-country to the east of the Panjāb. Bābur, on receiving the news of this event, sent for Dilāwer Khan, gave him possession of their estates, and loaded him with favours. This revolt of a man of such influence in the Panjāb as Doulet Khan, with other adverse circumstances, made it inexpedient for him to advance to Delhi, so that he fell back on Lahore, after he had crossed the Satlej and Bābur
advances to
Sirhind.
Returns to
Kābul. proceeded as far as Sirhind.² He soon after found it necessary to return to Kābul. He had now, however, gained a permanent footing beyond the Indus, and parcelled out the different districts among his most trusty officers, or such great men of the country as it was necessary to conciliate. In the course of this invasion he had been joined by Sultan Alā ed dīn, a brother³ of the Emperor Ibrahīm. On him Bābur bestowed Debālpūr, and probably flattered him with hopes of the succession to the empire of Hindustān. He now left with him Bāba Kashkeh, one of his favourite officers, to watch him, and retain him in his duty. He appointed Mīr Abdal-azīz to the charge of Lahore, Khosrou Gokultāsh to Siālkot, and Muhammed Ali Tājik to Kalanūr.⁴

Scarcely had Bābur recrossed the Indus, when Doulet Khan and Ghāzi Khan issued from their retreat in the hills, resumed possession of Sultānpūr, by vigorous exertions, succeeded in making Dilāwer Khan prisoner, and detained him in close custody. Their army rapidly increased, and they advanced to Debālpūr, where they defeated Sultan Alā ed dīn, who escaped and fled to Kābul. Bāba Kashkeh repaired to Lahore, which was the head-quarters of the Tūrki army. Doulet Khan, encouraged by his first successes, sent five thousand Afghans against Siālkot, in hopes A. H. 931.
A. D. 1525. of reducing the place; but Mīr Abdal-azīz having marched from Lahore, with a detachment of Bābur’s troops, encountered the Afghans, and completely defeated them.

Sultan Ibrahīm had now leisure to collect an army, which he sent against Doulet Khan, for the purpose of reducing him to obedience; but so successful were the intrigues of Doulet Khan in the imperial camp, that he contrived to gain over the general, and the army was completely broken up.

The crafty old politician soon after learned that Sultan Alā ed dīn had been favourably received at Kābul by Bābur who being himself obliged to march to the relief of Balkh, which was besieged by the Uzbeks, had sent Alā ed dīn into Hindustān, with orders to his generals there to accompany him in his march against Delhi, for the purpose of placing him on the throne of the empire.¹ Doulet Khan instantly wrote to Sultan Alā ed dīn, whose talents appear to have been but slender, congratulating him on the success of his negotiations, and assuring him that he was the very person whom Doulet Khan was most anxious to see placed on the throne. These assurances were accompanied by a deed of allegiance, under the seal of his Kazis and Chiefs. Sultan Alā ed dīn, on reaching Lahore, informed Bābur’s generals that they were ordered to accompany him to Delhi, and that Ghāzi Khan, Doulet Khan’s son, was to join them with his army, and to assist them in the expedition. To this Bābur’s Begs objected. They declared that they had no confidence in Ghāzi Khan or his father, with whom both Alā ed dīn and themselves had recently been in a state of war; and that he must give hostages before they could place any confidence in him. Their remonstrances, however, were unavailing. Alā ed dīn made a treaty with Doulet Khan, ceding to him all the Panjāb; while it was agreed Alā ed dīn should have Delhi, Agra, and the other dominions of the empire in that quarter; and that Hāji Khan, a son of Doulet Khan, should march with a large body of troops in his army. Dilāwer Khan, who had but recently escaped from his rigid confinement, joined Alā ed dīn. Ferishta says, that Bābur’s officers who remained in the Panjāb bargained that their master should have all the country north-west of the Indus, a circumstance not mentioned by Bābur himself, whose narrative never alludes to the claims of Alā ed dīn, in whose name¹ he appears at first to have marched against Ibrahīm. He probably imagined that Alā ed dīn’s breach of faith, and subsequent treaty with Doulet Khan, had cancelled all their engagements.

Alā ed dīn’s army, in its advance, was joined by many Amīrs of rank, and by the time it reached Delhi, could muster forty thousand horse. The siege of Delhi, the defeat of Alā ed dīn, and the events that followed, are detailed by Bābur himself in his Memoirs, as he was not informed of them till he was considerably advanced in his fifth invasion of Hindustān, with which his narrative recommences.

EVENTS OF THE YEAR 932¹

ON Friday, the 1st of Safer, in the year 932, when the sun was in Sagittarius, I set out on my march to invade Hindustān. Having crossed the hill of Yak-langeh,² we halted in a valley which lies west of the river of Deh Yākūb. At this place Abdal Malūk Korchi, who, seven or eight months before, had gone on an embassy to Sultan Saīd Khan,³ returned to me accompanied by Yangi Beg, a foster brother of the Khan. He brought me privately letters from the Khanums,⁴ as well as the Khan, with presents and prayers for my well-being.^a I halted here two days for the purpose of collecting^b my army; after which we marched, and, one night intervening, halted at Bādām-chashmeh. At this station I took a maajūn.

On Wednesday, when we were coming to our ground at Nov. 22 Bārīk-āb, the brothers^c of Nūr Beg, who had remained behind in Hindustān, arrived bringing to the amount of twenty thousand shahrokhis,⁵ in gold, in ashrafis and tankis, which Khwājeh Hussain, Diwān of Lahore, had sent by them.^d The greater part of this sum I dispatched through Mulla Ahmed, one of the chief men of Balkh, to serve my interests in that quarter.

On Friday the 8th, on halting at Gandamak, I had rather a severe defluxion,¹ but, by the mercy of God, it passed off without any bad effects.

On Saturday, I halted at the Bāgh-e-wafā. Here I was forced to wait some days for Humāiūn² and the army that was with him. In these Memoirs I have already repeatedly described the limits and extent of the Bāgh-e-wafā, its beauty, and elegance.^a The garden was in great glory. No one can view it without acknowledging what a charming place it is. During the few days that we stayed there, we drank a great quantity of wine at every sitting,^b and took regularly our morning cup. When I had no drinking parties,³ I had maajūn parties.⁴ In consequence of Humāiūn’s delay beyond the appointed time, I wrote him sharp letters, taking him severely to task, and giving him many hard names.^c

On Sunday, the 17th of Safer, I had taken my morning draught, when Humāiūn arrived. I spoke to him with considerable severity on account of his long delay. Khwājeh Kalān too arrived this day from Ghazni. That same evening, being the eve of Monday, we marched, and halted at a new garden, which I had laid out between Sultanpūr and Khwājeh Rustam.⁵

On Wednesday, we marched thence, when I embarked on a raft, on which I proceeded down the river, drinking all the way, till we reached Kūsh-gumbez, where I landed and joined the camp.

Next morning, after putting the troops in motion, I again embarked on a raft, and took a maajūn. We had always been accustomed to halt at Kirik arik. On coming over against Kirik arik, though we looked out in every direction, not a trace of the camp, nor of our horses, was visible. It came into my head, that, as Garm-chashmeh was near at hand, and was a shady, sheltered spot,^a the army had probably halted there. I therefore went on to that place. On coming near Garm-chashmeh, the day was far spent. Dec. 8. Without stopping there, I went on all next night and day,^b having only made them bring the raft to an anchor, while I took a sleep. About the time of early morning prayers, we landed at Yadeh Bīr, and at sunrise the troops began to make their appearance coming in. They had been for two days encamped in the territory of Kirik arik, though we had not observed them. There happened to be in the boat a good many men who wrote verses, such as Sheikh Abul Wajd, Sheikh Zein, Mulla Ali Jān, Terdi Beg Khāksār, and several others. During the party, the following verse of Muhammed Sālih was repeated:

It was agreed that every one should make an extempore couplet to the same rhyme and measure. Every one accordingly repeated his verse. As we had been very merry at Mulla Ali Jān’s expense, I repeated the following extempore satirical verses:

What can one do with a drunken sot like you?
What can be done with one foolish as a she-ass?^c1

A day or two after, when we halted at Bekrām,¹ I had a defluxion and fever; the defluxion was attended with a cough, and every time that I coughed I brought up blood. I knew whence this indisposition proceeded, and what conduct had brought on this chastisement.

(Arabic)—Then every one who fails and breaks his promise, that promise avenges its breach on his life; and he who adheres to his promises to God, God bestows on him boundless blessings.²

(Arabic)—O my Creator, I have tyrannized over my soul; and, if Thou are not bountiful unto me, of a truth I shall be of the number of the accursed.³

I now once more composed myself to penitence and self-control;^c I resolved to abstain from this kind of idle thoughts, and from such unsuitable amusements, and to break my pen. Such chastenings from the throne of the Almighty, on rebellious servants, are mighty graces, and every servant who feels and benefits from such chastisements, has cause to regard them as overflowing mercies.

Marching thence,^a I halted at Ali Masjid. On account of the smallness of the encamping ground at this place, I was always accustomed to take up my quarters on an adjoining eminence; the troops all took their ground in the valley. As the hillock on which I pitched my tents commanded the neighbouring grounds, the blaze from the fires of the people in the camp below was wonderfully brilliant and beautiful. It was certainly owing to this circumstance that every time that I halted in this ground I drank wine.^b

I took a maajūn before sunrise, and we continued our march. That day I fasted. We continued our march till we came near Bekrām, and then halted. Next morning we Dec. 11. continued halting in the same station, and I went out to hunt the rhinoceros. We crossed the Siāh-āb,¹ in front of Rhinoceros
hunt. Bekrām, and formed our ring lower down the river. When we had gone a short way, a man came after us with notice that a rhinoceros had entered a little wood near Bekrām, and that they had surrounded the wood, and were waiting for us. We immediately proceeded towards the wood at full gallop, and cast a ring round it. Instantly, on our raising the shout, the rhinoceros issued out into the plain, and took to flight. Humāiūn, and those who had come from the same quarter, never having seen a rhinoceros before, were greatly amused.² They followed it for nearly a kos, shot many arrows at it, and finally brought it down. This rhinoceros did not make a good set at any person, or any horse. They afterwards killed another rhinoceros.^c I had often amused myself with conjecturing how an elephant and rhinoceros would behave if brought to face each other; on this occasion the elephant-keepers brought out the elephants, so that one elephant fell right in with the rhinoceros.^a As soon as the elephant-drivers put their beasts in motion, the rhinoceros would not come up,^b but immediately ran off in another direction.

This day, when we stayed at Bekrām, I sent for several Begs and noblemen who were about my person, as well as for the paymasters and Diwāns, and having nominated six or seven of them as superintendents, appointed them to attend at the Nilāb passage, to conduct the embarkation, to take down the name of every man in the army one by one, and to inspect^c them. That same night I had a defluxion and fever. The defluxion ended in a cough; every time that I coughed I spat blood; I was considerably alarmed; but, praise be to God! it went off in two or three days.^d

We made two marches from Bekrām; and after the third, on Thursday the 26th, we encamped on the banks of the river Sind.^e

On Saturday,^f the 1st day of the first Rabi, we passed the Sind; and having also crossed the river of Kacheh-kot,¹ halted on its banks. The Begs, paymasters, and Diwāns, who had been placed to superintend the embarkation, brought me the return of the troops who were on the service. Great and small, good and bad, servants and no servants, they amounted to twelve thousand persons.

This year there was a deficiency of rain in the lower Proceeds
by the
route of the
hills. grounds, whereas there had been a sufficient quantity in the highlands. To secure a proper supply of corn, we advanced along the skirts of the hills towards Siālkot.¹ On coming opposite to the country of the Gakkers,^a in the bed of a brook, we found in several places a quantity of standing water. These waters were entirely frozen over. Although there was not much of it,^b the ice was in general a span in thickness. In Hindustān such ice is uncommon. We met with it here; but, during all the years² that I have been in Hindustān, I have in no other instance met with any trace of ice or snow.

Advancing five marches from the Sind, the sixth brought us close by the hill of Jūd, below the hill of Balināt-jogi,^c3 on the banks of a river, at the station of Bakiālān,^d where we encamped.

Next morning we halted in the same encampment, for the purpose of allowing the troops to procure grain. That day I drank spirits.⁴ Mulla Muhammed Parghari told us a great many stories. I have seldom seen him so talkative. Mulla Shams was generally riotous in his cups, and, when once affected, he continued noisy and troublesome from morning till night.

The slaves and servants, and men of all descriptions, that had gone to bring in grain, instead of employing themselves in searching for grain,^e went confusedly and unrestrained over hill, wood, and dingle, making a number of prisoners^f ; in consequence of which Kichkineh tunkitār and some others of our men were cut off.

Marching thence, we halted, after passing the river Behāt below Jhelum,¹ by the ford. Wali Kizil, who held the pergannas of Bīmragīri and Akerbādehpūr, and who had been ordered to assist in the defence of Siālkot, arrived and waited on me at this place. I was displeased, and chided him for not remaining in Siālkot.² He excused himself by informing me, that he had left it in order to repair to his perganna, and that Khosrou Gokultāsh, on leaving Siālkot, had given him no intimation of his intention. I listened to his excuse, but asked him, ‘As you did not remain in Siālkot to defend it, why did you not repair to Lahore, and join the rest of the Begs?’ He had no good answer to make; but as we were near about entering upon action, I overlooked his offence. From this encampment I sent forward Syed Tufān and Syed Sachīn,^a giving each of them a spare horse, with directions to push on with all speed to Lahore, and to enjoin our troops in that city not to fight, but to form a junction with me at Siālkot or Parsrūr.³ The general report was that Ghāzi Khan had collected an army of thirty or forty thousand men; that Doulet Khan, old as he was, had buckled on two swords;⁴ and that they would certainly try the fate of a battle. I recollected the proverb which says, Ten friends are better than nine. That no advantage might be lost, I judged it most advisable, before fighting, to form a junction with the detachment of my army that was in Lahore. I therefore sent on messengers with instructions Reaches
the Chenāb.
Dec. 26.
Dec. 27. to the Amirs, and at the second march reached the banks of the river Chenāb, where I encamped. I rode on towards Bahlūlpūr,¹ which is an imperial domain, and surveyed it on every side. Its castle stands on the banks of the Chenāb, upon an elevated ravine. It pleased me extremely, and I formed a plan of transferring the population of Siālkot to this place. God willing, as soon as I find leisure I will complete my project. I returned from Bahlūlpūr to the camp in a boat, and had a party; some drank arak,² some būzeh, and some took maajūn. I landed from the boat Dec. 28. about bed-time prayers, and we drank a little in my pavilion. I halted one day on the banks of the river to rest our horses.

On Friday, the 14th of the first Rabi, we arrived at Siālkot. Every time that I have entered Hindustān, the Jāts and Gujers³ have regularly poured down in prodigious numbers, from their hills and wilds,^a in order to carry off oxen and buffaloes. These were the wretches that really inflicted the chief hardships, and were guilty of the severest oppression on the country. These districts, in former times, had been in a state of revolt, and yielded very little revenue that could be come at.^b On the present occasion, when I had reduced the whole of the neighbouring districts to subjection, they began to repeat their practices. As my poor people were on their way from Siālkot to the camp, hungry and naked, indigent and in distress, they were fallen upon by the road with loud shouts and plundered.¹ I sought out the persons guilty of this outrage, discovered them, and ordered two or three of the number to be cut in pieces.^c

At this same station a merchant arrived, who brought us the news of the defeat of Ālim Khan by Sultan Ibrahīm. The particulars are as follows. Ālim Khan,² after taking leave of me, had marched forward in spite of the scorching heat of the weather, and had reached Lahore, having, without any consideration for those who accompanied him, Accounts
of Ālim
Khan’s
trans-
actions. gone two stages every march. At the very moment that Ālim Khan took leave, all the Sultans and Khans of the Uzbeks had advanced and blockaded Balkh; so that, immediately on his departure for Hindustān, I was obliged to set out for that city. Ālim Khan, on reaching Lahore, insisted with such of my Begs as were in Hindustān, that the Emperor had ordered them to march to his assistance, and that they must accordingly accompany him; that it Ālim Khan
forms a
league with
Ghāzi
Khan. had been concerted that Ghāzi Khan should likewise join him, and that they were all in conjunction to march upon Delhi and Agra. The Begs answered, that, situated as things were, they could not accompany Ghāzi Khan with any kind of confidence; but that, if he sent to court his younger brother Hāji Khan, with his son, or placed them in Lahore as hostages, their instructions would then leave them at liberty to march along with him; that otherwise they could not; that it was only the other day that Ālim Khan had fought and been defeated by Ghāzi Khan, so that no mutual confidence was to be looked for between them; and that, altogether, it was by no means advisable for Ālim Khan to let Ghāzi Khan accompany him in the expedition. Whatever expostulations of this nature they employed in order to dissuade Ālim Khan from prosecuting his plan, were all ineffectual. He sent his son Sher Khan to confer with Doulet Khan and Ghāzi Khan, and the parties themselves afterwards met. Dilāwer Khan,¹ who had been in confinement very recently, and who had escaped from custody and come to Lahore only two or three months before, was likewise associated with them. Mahmūd Khan Khan Jehān,² to whom the custody of Lahore^a had been entrusted, was also pressed into their measures. In a word, it was in the end definitively arranged among them, that Doulet Khan and Ghāzi Khan should take under their orders all the Begs who had been left in Hindustān, and should, at the same time, themselves assume the government of all the adjacent territories;¹ while Dilāwer Khan and Hāji Khan were to accompany Ālim Khan, and occupy the whole Marches
against
Delhi, of the country about Delhi and Agra and in that neighbourhood.^a Ismāel Jilwāni and a number of other Amirs waited on Ālim Khan, and acknowledged him. He now proceeded towards Delhi without delay, by forced marches. On reaching Inderi,² Suleimān Sheikhzādeh came and likewise joined him. The numbers of the confederate army and
besieges it. now amounted to thirty or forty thousand men. They laid siege to Delhi, but were unable either to take the place by storm or to reduce it by famine.^b

Sultan Ibrahīm, as soon as he heard that they had collected an army, and invaded his dominions, led his troops to oppose them. Having notice of his march as he approached, they raised the siege and advanced to meet him. The confederates concurred in opinion, that if the battle was fought in the daytime, the Afghans, from regard to their reputation with their countrymen, would not flee; but that if the attack was made by night, the night is dark, and no one seeing another, each chief would shift for himself. Resolving, therefore, to attempt a night surprise, they mounted to proceed against the enemy, who were six kos off. Twice did they mount their horses at noon, and continue mounted till the second or third watch of the night, without going either back or forward, not being able to come to a resolution, or agree among themselves. The third time they set Surprises
the camp of
Sultan
Ibrahīm; out for their surprise, when only one watch of the night remained. Their plan was for the party merely to set fire to the tents and pavilions, and to attempt nothing farther. They accordingly advanced and set fire to the tents during the last watch of the night, at the same time shouting the war-cry. Jalāl Khan Jighet, and several other Amirs, came over, and acknowledged Ālim Khan. Sultan Ibrahīm, attended by a body of men composed of his own tribe and family, did not move from the royal pavilion, but continued steady in the same place till morning. By this time, the troops who accompanied Ālim Khan were dispersed, being busy plundering and pillaging. Sultan Ibrahīm’s troops perceived that the enemy were not in great force, and immediately moved forward from the station which they had kept, though very few in number, and having only a single elephant; but no sooner had the elephant come up, than Ālim Khan’s men took to flight, without attempting but is
defeated. to keep their ground. In the course of his flight, Ālim Khan crossed over to the Doāb side of the river, and again recrossed it towards Panipat, on reaching which place he contrived by a stratagem to get three or four laks¹ from Miān Suleimān,² and went on his way. Ismāel Jilwāni, Bīban, and Jalāl Khan, the eldest son of Ālim Khan, separating from him, betook themselves to the Doāb. A small part of the army which Ālim Khan had collected, such as Seif ed dīn,^a Daryā Khan, Mahmūd Khan Khan Jehān, Sheikh Jamāl Fermūli, and some others, deserted before the battle and joined Ibrahīm. Ālim Khan and Dilāwer Khan, with Hāji Khan, after passing Sirhind, heard of my approach, and that I had taken Milwat; whereupon Dilāwer Khan, who had always been attached to my interests, and had been detained three or four months in prison on my account, separated from the others, came on by way of Sultānpūr³ and Kochi,⁴ and waited upon me in the neighbourhood of Milwat, three or four days after the taking of that town. Ālim Khan and Hāji Khan having passed the river Satlej, at length reached Gingūteh,⁵ the name of a strong castle in the hills between Dūn and the plain, and threw themselves into it. One of my detachments, consisting of Afghans and Hazāras, happening to come up, blockaded them, and had nearly succeeded in taking the castle, strong as it was, being only prevented by the approach of night. These noblemen then made an attempt to leave it, but some of their horses having fallen in the gateway, they could not get out. Some elephants that were along with them were pushed forward, and trampled upon and killed a number of the horses. Although unable to escape on horseback, they left the place during a dark night on foot, and after incredible sufferings, joined Ghāzi Khan, who, in the course of his flight, finding that he could not get refuge in Milwat, had directed his course towards the hills, where they met. Ghāzi Khan did not give Ālim Khan a very friendly reception, which induced him to wait on me, below Dūn, in the neighbourhood of Pelhūr, where he came and tendered me his allegiance. While I was at Siālkot, some of the troops^a whom I had left in Lahore arrived to inform me, that they would all be up by the morning.

Next morning I marched, and halted at Parsrūr, where Muhammed Ali Jeng-Jeng, Khwājeh Hussain, and some others,¹ accordingly came and waited on me. As the enemy’s camp was on the banks of the Rāvi,² towards Lahore, I sent out Bujkeh with his party to reconnoitre and bring in intelligence. About the end of the third watch of the night they came back with information that the enemy, immediately on getting notice of their approach, had fled away in consternation, every man shifting for himself.

On the following morning, leaving Shah Mīr Hussain,^b and some other officers, to guard the camp and baggage, I separated from them, and pushed on with all possible speed. We reached Kalanūr about the middle of afternoon prayers, and halted. Muhammed Sultān Mirza, Ādil Sultān, and the other Amirs, came here and waited on me.

Marching before daybreak from Kālanūr,¹ we discovered on the road certain traces^a that Ghāzi Khan and the fugitives were not far off. Muhammedi and Ahmedi,^b with several of the Begs about my person, whom I had recently at Kābul promoted to the rank of Beg, were detached to pursue the fugitives, without halting. Their orders were, that, if they could overtake the flying enemy, it was well; but, if not, that they should carefully guard every approach and issue of the fort of Milwat, that the garrison might not be able to effect their escape. Ghāzi Khan was the object that I principally aimed at in these instructions. Having sent forward this detachment under the Begs, we crossed Crosses the
Biās. the river Biās opposite to Kanwāhīn,² and there halted. From thence, after three marches, we encamped in the Jan. 2, 3,
and 4. mouth of the valley in which lies the fort of Milwat.³ The Begs, who had arrived before us, and the Amirs of Hindustān, Blockades
Milwat; were directed to encamp and lay close siege to the fort. Ismāel Khan, who was Doulet Khan’s grandson (being the son of Ali Khan, Doulet Khan’s eldest son), having arrived in our quarters, was sent into the fort to offer terms of capitulation, and with a message in which we mingled Jan. 5. promises and threats. On Friday I made the camp advance, and take ground half a kos nearer. I myself went out, reconnoitred the fort, and after having assigned to the right and left wing, and to the centre, their respective stations, returned back to the camp.

Doulet Khan now sent a person to inform me, that Ghāzi Khan had escaped and fled to the hills; but that if I would excuse his own offences, he would come as a slave^a and deliver up the place. I therefore sent Khwājeh Mīr Mīrān to confirm him in his resolution, and to bring him out. His son Ali Khan accompanied that officer.^b In order to expose the rudeness and stupidity of the old man,^c I directed him to take care that Doulet Khan should come out with the same two swords hung round his neck, which he had hung by his side to meet me in combat. When matters had come who waits
upon
Bābur. this length,^d he still contrived frivolous pretexts for delay, but was at length brought out. I ordered the two swords to be taken from his neck. When he came to offer me his obeisance, he affected delays in bowing; I directed them to push his leg and make him bow. I then made him sit down before me, and desired a man who understood the Hindustāni language to explain to him what I said, sentence by sentence, in order to reassure him^e ; and to tell him, ‘I called you Father: I showed you more respect and reverence than you could have desired or expected. I delivered you and your sons from the insults of^f the Balūches. I delivered your tribe, your family, and women, from the bondage of Ibrahīm. The countries held by Tātār Khan¹ to the amount of three krors,² I bestowed on you. What evil have I ever done you, that you should come in this style against me, with these two swords by your side: and, attended by an army, stir up tumult and confusion in my territories?’ The man, being stupefied, stammered out a few words not at all to the purpose; and, indeed, what could he say in answer to such confounding truths? It was settled that he and his family should retain their authority in their own tribes, and possession of their villages, but that all the rest of their property should be sequestrated.^a They were directed to encamp close by Khwājeh Mīr Mīrān.

On Saturday, the 22nd of the first Rabi, to ensure their good treatment while they were bringing out their dependants and families, I myself went and took my station on a rising ground opposite to the gate of Milwat. Ali Khan came up and presented me with a few ashrafis as a peshkesh. Towards afternoon prayers they began to remove their dependants and women. ^b Abdal-azīz and Muhammed Ali Jeng-Jeng, Kutlūk Kadem, Muhammedi, and Ahmedi, with several other of the Begs about my person, were directed to enter the fort, and to take possession of and secure their treasures, and all their property. Although Ghāzi Khan was said to have left the place and fled, yet some reported that they had seen him within the fort. On this account I placed several of my trusty officers and servants at the gate, with orders to examine every person and place of which^c they had the least suspicion, that Ghāzi Khan might not escape by any artifice, as now my grand object was to make him prisoner. They had also orders to seize any jewels or precious stones that might be attempted to be secretly conveyed out of the town.^d The troops made a great riot at the gate of the fort, which obliged me to discharge a few arrows to check their turbulence; a chance shot struck Humāiūn’s reader, who expired on the spot. Jan. 8. After remaining on the hillock for two nights, on Monday I entered and surveyed the fort. I examined Ghāzi Khan’s library, and found in it a number of valuable books. Some of them I gave to Humāiūn, and some I sent to Kāmrān. There was also a number of theological books, but I did not, on the whole, find so many books of value as, from their appearance, I had expected.

I stayed in the fort all night, and next morning returned to the camp. We had been mistaken in imagining that Ghāzi Khan was in the fort. That traitorous coward had fled, and escaped to the hills with a small number of followers, leaving his father, his elder and younger brothers, his mother, his elder and younger sisters, in Milwat:

On Wednesday I marched thence towards the hill to which Ghāzi Khan had fled. After advancing one kos from the station at the gorge of Milwat, we halted in a valley. It was here that Dilāwer Khan came and tendered his allegiance. Doulet Khan and Ali Khan, with Ismāel Khan and some other leading men, were delivered as prisoners to Kitteh, to be carried to the fort of Milwat,² in Behreh, there to be detained in custody. The rest were delivered to various persons for the purpose of levying contributions on them, and their ransoms were fixed after Dilāwer Khan’s opinion had been taken. Several were liberated on securities; several were committed to prison and close custody. Kitteh set out with the prisoners. He had reached Sultānpūr Death of
Doulet
Khan. when Doulet Khan died. I gave the fort of Milwat to Muhammed Ali Jeng-Jeng, who left his elder brother Arghūn in the place, on his part, with a body of troops. About two hundred or two hundred and fifty Hazāras and Afghans were also left to assist in the defence of the fort.

Khwājeh Kalān had loaded some camels with the wines of Ghazni, and brought them to the camp. His quarters were on a high ground that overlooked the fort and camp. We had a party there in which some drank wine and others spirits. It was a rare party.

Marching thence, and passing the small hills of Ab-kend by Milwat,^a we reached Dūn. In the language of Hindustān, they call a julga (or dale), dūn.¹ The finest running water² in Hindustān is that in this Dūn. There are many villages around the Dūn, which was a perganna of the Jaswāl, who Description
of Dūn. were the maternal uncles of Dilāwer Khan. This Dūn is a very pleasant dale, and there are meadows all along the stream. In several places they sow rice. Through the middle of it runs a stream large enough to turn three or four mills. The width of the dale is one or two kos; in some places it is even three kos. Its hills are very small, like hillocks, and all its villages stand on the skirts of these hillocks. Where there are no villages, there are numbers of peacocks and monkeys. There are also many fowls resembling barn-door fowls: they resemble them in shape,^b but are generally of a single colour.³

As we could nowhere get any certain intelligence of Ghāzi Khan, I sent Tardīkeh with Bīrim Deo Malinhat,^c with orders to pursue him wherever he might go; to engage him, and bring him back a prisoner. In the country composed of small hills, that has been mentioned as lying around the Dūn, there are some wonderfully strong castles. To the Of Kūtila. north-east is a castle called Kūtila.⁴ It is surrounded by^d a rock seventy or eighty gaz in perpendicular height. At its chief gate, for the space of about seven or eight gaz, there is a place that admits of a drawbridge being thrown across. It may be ten or twelve gaz wide.^a The bridge is composed of two long planks, by which their horses and flocks pass out and in. This was one of the forts of the hill-country, which Ghāzi Khan had put into a state of defence and garrisoned. The detachment that had been pushed on attacked the place vigorously, and had nearly taken it, when night came on. The garrison then abandoned the castle and fled away. Near the Dūn is another strong castle called the Fort of Gingūteh, the country around which is all hilly,^b but it is not so strong as the former. Ālim Khan, in his flight, had thrown himself into this fort, as has been already mentioned.

After sending a detachment in pursuit of Ghāzi Khan, I placed my foot in the stirrup of resolution, and my hand on the reins of confidence-in-God, and marched against Sultan Ibrahīm, the son of Sultan Iskander, the son of Sultan Bahlol Lodi Afghan, in whose possession the throne of Delhi and the dominions of Hindustān at that time were; whose army in the field was said to amount to a hundred thousand men, and who, including those of his Amirs, had nearly a thousand elephants. After one march I bestowed Debālpūr¹ on Bāki Shaghāwel, and sent him to reinforce Balkh. I sent a great part of the gold and effects found in the fort of Milwat, to strengthen my interest in Balkh, and to Kābul as presents to my relations and friends, and to my children and dependants.^c

A march or two below Dūn, Shah Imād Shirāzi came with letters from Arāish Khan and Mulla Muhammed Mazhab,¹ containing assurances of their attachment to my interest, and urging me to continue resolutely the expedition I had commenced. I wrote them in return, to assure them of my protection and favour; and having dispatched the letters by a messenger on foot, continued my route. The detachment which had proceeded into Milwat,^a advanced against Harūr, Kahlūr,² and the forts in that part of the country, among which, from the natural strength of the ground, no enemy had penetrated for a long time before, took the whole of them, and returned and joined me, after having plundered the inhabitants of the district. It was at this time that Ālim Khan, being reduced to great distress, came naked,^b and on foot, to meet me. I directed several Begs and some noblemen of my court to go out to receive him, and also sent him some horses. He waited upon me in this neighbourhood, and made his submission.³

A detachment was sent out among the hills and valleys in this vicinity, but returned after being out a night or two, without having met with anything of value. Shah Mīr Hussain, and Jān Beg, with some other of my people, asked permission to go on a foray, which I granted, and they went off.

While I was in Dūn, two or three letters had come from Ismāel Jilwāni and Bīban.¹ I sent them gracious answers from this place, to retain them in their favourable sentiments.^a

After marching from Dūn we came to Rūpar.² While we stayed at Rūpar, it rained incessantly, and was so extremely cold, that many of the starving and hungry Hindustānis died. After marching from Rūpar, we had halted at Keril, Arrives
near
Sirhind. opposite to Sirhind,³ when a Hindustāni presented himself, assuming the style of an ambassador from Sultan Ibrahīm. Though he had no letters or credentials, yet as he requested that one of my people might accompany him back as my ambassador, I accordingly did send back a sawādi tunketār^b4 along with him. These poor men had no sooner arrived in Ibrahīm’s camp than he ordered them both to be thrown into prison. The very day that we defeated Ibrahīm, the sawādi was set at liberty, and waited on me.

After two marches more, we halted on the banks of the stream of Banūr¹ and Sanūr.² This is a running water, of which there are few in Hindustān, except large rivers. They call it the stream of Kagar.³ Chiter stands on its banks. We rode up this stream to view the country. Three or four kos above Chiter, it comes flowing down from a number of little springs. Higher up than the stream by which we had ridden,^a there issues from an open valley a rivulet fit to turn four or five mills. It is an extremely beautiful and delightful place, with a charming climate. On the banks of this rivulet, where it issues from the spreading valley, I directed a Chār-bāgh (or large garden) to be laid out. The rivulet, after reaching the plain, goes on for a kos or two, and falls into the first-mentioned river. The place where the stream of Kagar issues, and is formed from the junction of the small springs that have been mentioned, may be three or four kos higher up than the place where this rivulet falls into it. During the rainy season, the water of the rivulet, swelling extremely, flows down united with the stream of the Kagar, Hears of
Sultan
Ibrahīm’s
approach. to Samāneh⁴ and Sanām. At this station we had information that Sultan Ibrahīm, who lay on this side of Delhi, was A. D. 1526. advancing, and that the Shikdār of Hissār-Firozeh,¹ Hamīd Khan, khāseh-khail, had also advanced ten or fifteen kos towards us with the army of Hissār-Firozeh, and of the neighbouring districts. I sent on Kitteh Beg towards Ibrahīm’s camp to procure intelligence, and dispatched Mūmin Atkeh towards the army of Hissār-Firozeh to get notice of its motions.

On Sunday, the 13th of the first Jumāda, I marched from Ambāla,² and had halted on the margin of a tank, when Mūmin Atkeh and Kitteh Beg both returned on the same Detaches
Humāiūn
towards
Hissār-Fi-
rozeh. day. The command of the whole right wing I gave to Humāiūn, who was accompanied by Khwājeh Kalān, Sultan Muhammed Duldāi, Wali Khāzin, with some of the Begs who had stayed in Hindustān, such as Khosrou, Hindu Beg, Abdal-azīz, and Muhammed Ali Jeng-Jeng. I also strengthened this force by adding to it several of the inferior Begs, and of my immediate dependants from the centre, such as Mansūr Birlās, Kitteh Beg, Muhibb Ali, with a large body of troops, and directed him to march against Hamīd Khan. It was at this station, too, that Bīban came and made his submission. These Afghans are provokingly rude and stupid.^a Although Dilāwer Khan, who was his superior, both in the number of his retainers and in rank, did not sit in the presence, and although the sons of Ālim Khan stood, though they were princes,³ this man asked to be allowed to sit, and expected me to listen to his unreasonable demand.

Next morning, being Monday the 14th, Humāiūn set out with his light force to attack Hamīd Khan by surprise. Humāiūn dispatched on before him a hundred or a hundred and fifty select men, by way of advanced guard. On coming near the enemy, this advanced body went close up to them, hung upon their flanks,^a and had one or two rencounters, when the troops of Humāiūn appeared in sight following them. No sooner were they perceived than the enemy took to flight. Our troops brought down one hundred or two hundred of their men, cut off the heads of the one half, and brought the other half alive into the camp, along with seven or eight elephants. Beg Mīrak Moghul brought the news of this victory of Humāiūn to the camp at this station on March 2. Friday, the 18th of the month. On the spot, I directed a complete dress of honour, a horse from my own stable, with a reward in money, to be given to him.

On Monday the 21st, Humāiūn reached the camp that was still at the same station, with a hundred prisoners, and seven or eight elephants, and waited on me. I ordered Ustād Ali Kuli and the matchlockmen to shoot all the prisoners as an example. This was Humāiūn’s first expedition, and the first service he had seen. It was a very good Hissār-Fi-
rozeh taken. omen. Some light troops having followed the fugitives, took Hissār-Firozeh the moment they reached it, and returned after plundering it. Hissār-Firozeh, which, with its dependencies and subordinate districts, yielded a kror,¹ I bestowed on Humāiūn, with a kror in money as a present.

Marching from that station, we reached Shahābād.² I sent fit persons^b towards Sultan Ibrahīm’s camp to procure intelligence, and halted several days in this station. From this place also I dispatched Rahmet Piādeh to Kābul, with letters announcing my victory.

(At this same station, and this same day, the razor, or scissors, were first applied to Humāiūn’s beard.³ As my honoured father mentions in these commentaries the time of his first using the razor, in humble emulation of him, I have commemorated the same circumstance regarding myself. I was then eighteen years of age. Now that I am forty-six, I, Muhammed Humāiūn, am transcribing a copy of these Memoirs from the copy in his late Majesty’s own handwriting.^a)¹

In this station, on Monday the 28th of the first Jumāda, the sun entered Aries; we now began also to receive repeated information from Ibrahīm’s camp, that he was advancing slowly by a kos or two at a time, and halting two or three days at each station. I, on my side, likewise moved on to meet him, and after the second march from Shahābād, encamped on the banks of the Jumna,² opposite to Sirsāweh.^b3 Bābur en-
camps near
Sirsāweh. Haider Kuli, a servant of Khwājeh Kalān, was sent out to procure intelligence. I crossed the Jumna by a ford, and went to see Sirsāweh. That same day I took a maajūn. At Sirsāweh there is a fountain, from which a small stream flows. It is rather a pretty place. Terdi Beg Khaksār praised it highly. I said, ‘Yours be it’; and in consequence of these praises, I bestowed it on Terdi Beg Khaksār. Having raised an awning^c in a boat, we sometimes sailed about on the broad stream of the river, and sometimes entered the creeks in the boat.^d

From this station we held down the river for two marches, keeping close along its banks, when Haider Kuli, who had been sent out to collect intelligence, returned, bringing information that Daūd Khan and Hātim Khan had been sent across the river into the Doāb with six or seven thousand^a April 1.
Attempts
to surprise
the enemy. horse, and had encamped three or four kos in advance of Ibrahīm’s position on the road towards us. On Sunday the 18th of the second Jumāda, I dispatched against this column Chin Taimūr Sultan,¹ Mahdi Khwājeh, Sultan Mirza, Ādil Sultan, with the whole left wing, commanded by Sultan Juneid, Shah Mīr Hūssain, Kūtluk Kadem; as well as part of the centre under Yunis Ali, Abdallah, Ahmedi, and Kitteh Beg, with instructions to advance rapidly and fall upon them by surprise. About noon-day prayers, they crossed the river near our camp; and between April 2. afternoon and evening prayers set out from the opposite bank. Next morning, about the time of early prayers,² they arrived close upon the enemy, who put themselves in some kind of order, and marched out to meet them; but our troops no sooner came up, than the enemy fled, and were followed in close pursuit, and slaughtered all the way to the limits of Ibrahīm’s camp. The detachment took Hātim Khan, Daūd Khan’s eldest brother, and one of the generals, with seventy or eighty prisoners, and six or eight elephants, all of which they brought in when they waited on me. Several^b of the prisoners were put to death, to strike terror into the enemy.

Marching thence, I arranged the whole army in order of battle,^c with right and left wing and centre, and after reviewing it, performed the vīm.^d3 The custom of the vīm is, that, the whole army being mounted, the commander takes a bow or whip in his hand, and guesses at the number of the army, according to a fashion in use, and in conformity with which they affirm that the army may be so many.^e The number that I guessed was greater than the army turned out to be.

At this station^a I directed^b that, according to the custom of Rūm,¹ the gun-carriages should be connected together with twisted bull-hides as with chains. Between every two gun-carriages² were six or seven tūras³ or breast-works. The matchlockmen stood behind these guns and tūras, and discharged their matchlocks. I halted five or six days in this camp, for the purpose of getting this apparatus arranged. After every part of it was in order and ready, I called together all the Amīrs, and men of any experience and knowledge, and held a general council. It was settled, that as Pānipat was a considerable^c city, it would cover one of our flanks by its buildings^d and houses, while we might fortify our front by tūras, or covered defences, and cannon, and that the matchlockmen and infantry should be placed in the rear of the guns and tūras.^e With this resolution we moved, and April 12.
Reaches
Pānipat. in two marches, on Thursday, the 30th of the last Jumāda, reached Pānipat.⁴ On our right were the town and suburbs. In my front I placed the guns and tūras which had been prepared. On the left, and in different other points, we drew ditches and made defences of the boughs of trees. At the distance of every bowshot, a space was left large enough for a hundred or a hundred and fifty men to issue forth. Many of the troops were in great terror and alarm. Trepidation and fear are always unbecoming. Whatsoever Almighty God has decreed from all eternity, cannot be reversed; though, at the same time, I cannot greatly blame them; they had some reason; for they had come two or three months’ journey from their own country; we had to engage in arms a strange nation, whose language we did not understand, and who did not understand ours;

The army of the enemy opposed to us was estimated at one hundred thousand men; the elephants of the emperor and his officers were said to amount to nearly a thousand. He possessed the accumulated treasures of his father and grandfather, in current coin, ready for use. It is an usage in Hindustān, in situations similar to that in which the enemy now were, to expend sums of money in bringing together troops who engage to serve for hire. These men are called bedhindi. Had he chosen to adopt this plan, he might have engaged one or two hundred thousand more troops. But God Almighty directed everything for the best. He had not the heart to satisfy even his own army; and would not part with any of his treasure. Indeed, how was it possible that he should satisfy his troops, when he was himself miserly to the last degree, and beyond measure avaricious in accumulating pelf? He was a young man of no experience. He was negligent in all his movements; he marched without order; retired or halted without plan, and engaged in battle without foresight. While the troops were fortifying their position in Pānipat and its vicinity, with guns,^a branches of trees, and ditches, Derwīsh Muhammed Sarbān said to me, ‘You have fortified our ground in such a way that it is not possible he should ever think of coming here.’ I answered, ‘You judge of him by the Khans and Sultans of the Uzbeks. It is true that, the year in which we left Samarkand and came to Hissār, a body of the Uzbek Khans and Sultans having collected and united together, set out from Derbend¹ in order to fall upon us. I brought the families and property of all the Moghuls and soldiers into the town and suburbs, and closing up all the streets, put them in a defensible state. As these Khans and Sultans were perfectly versed in the proper times and seasons for attacking and retiring, they perceived that we were resolved to defend Hissār to the last drop of our blood, and had fortified it under that idea; and seeing no hopes of succeeding in their enterprise, fell back by Bundak Cheghāniān.^a But you must not judge of our present enemies by those who were then opposed to us. They have not ability to discriminate when it is proper to advance and when to retreat.’^b God brought everything to pass favourably. April 19
or 20. It happened as I foretold. During the seven or eight days that we remained in Pānipat, a very small party of my men, advancing close up to their encampment and to their vastly superior force, discharged arrows upon them.^c They did not, however, move, or make any demonstration of sallying out. At length, induced by the persuasions of some Bābur
harasses
the enemy. Hindustāni Amīrs, in my interest, I sent Mahdi Khwājeh, Muhammed Sultan Mirza, Ādil Sultan, Khosrou Shah, Mir Hūssain, Sultan Juneid Birlās, Abdal-azīz, the master of horse (Mir akhūr), Muhammed Ali Jeng-Jeng, Kūtluk Kadem, Wali Khāzin, Muhibb Ali Khalīfeh, Muhammed Bakhshi, Jān Beg, and Karakūzi, with four or five thousand men, on a night attack. They did not assemble properly in the first instance^d, and as they marched out in confusion, did not get on well. The day dawned, yet they continued lingering near the enemy’s camp till it was broad daylight, when the enemy, on their side, beat their kettle-drums, got ready their elephants, and marched out upon them. Although our people did not effect anything, yet, in spite of the multitude of troops that hung upon them in their retreat, they returned safe and sound, without the loss of a man. Muhammed Ali Jeng-Jeng was wounded with an arrow,^a and though the wound was not mortal, yet it disabled him from taking his place^b on the day of battle. On learning what had occurred, I immediately detached Humāiūn with his division a kos or a kos and a half in advance, to cover their retreat, while I myself, remaining with the army, drew it out, and got it in readiness for action. The party which had marched to surprise the enemy fell in with Humāiūn, and returned with him. As none of the enemy came near us, I drew off the army, and led it back to the camp. In the course of the night we had a false alarm; for nearly^c one ghari¹ the call to arms and the uproar continued. Such of the troops as had never before witnessed an alarm of the kind, were in great confusion and dismay. In a short time, however, the alarm subsided.

By the time of early morning prayers, when the light was such that you could distinguish one object from another,^d notice was brought from the advanced patrols that the enemy were advancing, drawn up in order of battle. We too immediately braced on our helmets and our armour, and mounted. The right division was led by Humāiūn, accompanied by Khwājeh Kalān, Sultan Muhammed Duldāi, Hindu Beg, Wali Khāzin, and Pir Kuli Sīstāni; the left division was commanded by Muhammed Sultan Mirza, Mahdi Khwājeh, Ādil Sultan, Shah Mīr Hussain, Sultan Juneid Birlās, Kūtluk Kadem, Jān Beg, Muhammed Bakhshi, Shah Hussain Bargi, and Moghul Ghānchi. The right of the centre was commanded by Chin Taimūr Sultan,^e Muhammedi Gokultāsh, Shah Mansūr Birlās, Yunis Ali, Derwīsh Muhammed Sārbān, and Abdallah Kitābdār; the left of the centre by Khalīfeh, Khwājeh Mīr Mīrān, Ahmedi Perwānchi, Terdi Beg, Kūch Beg, Muhibb Ali Khalīfeh, and Mirza Beg Terkhān. The advance was led by Khosrou Gokultāsh and Muhammed Ali Jeng-Jeng.¹ Abdal-azīz, master of horse, had the command of the reserve.² On the flank of the right division I stationed Wali Kizil, Malik Kāsim, Bāba Kashkeh, with their Moghuls, to act as a tulughmeh (or flanking party). On the extremity of the left division were stationed Kara-Kūzi, Abul Muhammed Nezehbāz, Sheikh Ali, Sheikh Jemāl Bārīn, Mahdi, Tengrī Kuli Moghul, to form the tulughmeh (or flankers), with instructions, that^a as soon as the enemy approached sufficiently near, they should take a circuit and come round upon their rear.^b

When the enemy first came in sight, they seemed to bend their force most against the right division. I therefore detached Abdal-azīz, who was stationed with the reserve, to reinforce the right. Sultan Ibrahīm’s army, from the time it first appeared in sight, never made a halt, but advanced right upon us, at a quick pace. When they came closer, on getting a view of my troops, and finding them drawn up in the order and with the defences that have been mentioned, they were brought up and stood for a while, as if considering, ‘Shall we halt or not? Shall we advance or not?’ They could not halt, and they were unable to advance with the same speed as before. I sent orders to the troops stationed as flankers on the extremes of the right and left divisions, to wheel round the enemy’s flank with all possible speed, and instantly to attack them in the rear;^c the right and left divisions were also ordered to charge the enemy.^d The flankers accordingly wheeled on the rear of the enemy, and began to make discharges of arrows on them. Mahdi Khwājeh came up before the rest of the left wing.^e A body of men with one elephant advanced to meet him. My troops gave them some sharp discharges of arrows, and the enemy’s division was at last driven back. I dispatched from the main body Ahmedi Perwānchi, Terdi Beg, Kūch Beg, and Muhibb Ali Khalīfeh, to the assistance of the left division. The battle was likewise obstinate on the right. I ordered Muhammedi Gokultāsh, Shah Mansūr Birlas, Yunis Ali, and Abdallah, to advance in front of the centre and engage. Ustād Ali Kuli also discharged his guns¹ many times in front of the line^a to good purpose. Mustafa, the cannoneer, on the left of the centre, managed his artillery with great effect. The right and left divisions, the centre and flankers having surrounded the enemy and taken them in rear, were now engaged in hot conflict, and busy pouring in discharges of arrows on them. They made one or two very poor charges on our right and left divisions. My troops, making use of their bows, plied them with arrows, and drove them in upon their centre. The troops on the right and left of their centre, being huddled together in one place, such confusion ensued, that the enemy, while totally unable to advance, found also no road by which they could flee. The sun had mounted spear-high when the onset of battle began, and the combat lasted till mid-day, But is
completely
defeated. when the enemy were completely broken and routed, and my friends victorious and exulting. By the grace and mercy of Almighty God, this arduous undertaking was rendered easy for me, and this mighty army, in the space of half a day, laid in the dust. Five or six thousand men were discovered lying slain, in one spot, near Ibrahīm. We reckoned that the number lying slain,^b in different parts of this field of battle, amounted to fifteen or sixteen thousand men. On reaching Agra, we found, from the accounts of the natives of Hindustān, that forty or fifty thousand men had fallen in this field. After routing the enemy, we continued the pursuit, slaughtering,^c and making them prisoners. Those who were ahead, began to bring in the Amīrs and Afghans as prisoners.^a They brought in a very great number of elephants with their drivers, and offered them to me as peshkesh. Having pursued the enemy to some distance, and supposing that Ibrahīm had escaped from the battle, I appointed Kismāi Mirza, Bāba Chihreh, and Bujkeh, with a party of my immediate adherents, to follow him in close pursuit down as far as Agra.^b Having passed through the middle of Ibrahīm’s camp, and visited his pavilion and accommodations,^c we encamped on the banks of the Siāh-āb.¹

It was now afternoon prayers when Tāhir Taberi, the younger brother of Khalīfeh, having found Ibrahīm lying dead amidst a number of slain, cut off his head, and brought it in.

That very day I directed Humāiūn Mirza, Khwājeh Kalān, Muhammedi, Shah Mansūr Birlās, Yunis Ali, Abdallah, and Wali Khāzin, to set out without baggage or encumbrances and proceed with all possible expedition to occupy Agra, and take possession of the treasuries. I at the same time ordered Mahdi Khwājeh, Muhammed Sultan Mirza, Ādil Sultan, Sultan Juneid Birlās, and Kūtluk Kadem, to leave their baggage behind, to push on by forced marches, to enter the Fort of Delhi, and seize the treasuries.

Next morning we marched, and having proceeded about a kos, halted on the banks of the Jumna in order to refresh our horses.

After other two marches, on Tuesday I visited the mausoleum of Nizām Aulia,² and at the end of the third march A. D. 1526.
April 25. encamped near^a Delhi, on the banks of the Jumna. That same night, being Wednesday, I circumambulated the tomb of Khwājeh Kutb ed dīn,¹ and visited^b the tomb and palaces of Sultan Ghīas ed dīn Balban, of Sultan Alā ed dīn Khilji, and his minaret, the Shams tank, the royal tank, the tombs and gardens of Sultan Bahlol and Sultan Sikander; after which I returned into the camp, and went on board of a boat, where we drank arak. I bestowed the office of Shikdār (or military collector) of Delhi on Wali Kizil; I made Dost the Diwān of Delhi, and directed the different treasuries to be sealed and given into their charge.

On Thursday we moved thence, and halted hard by^a Tughlakābād,¹ on the banks of the Jumna.

On Friday we continued to halt in the same station. Moulāna Mahmūd, Sheikh Zein, and some others, went into Delhi, to Friday prayers, read the khutbeh in my name, distributed some money among the fakīrs and beggars, and then returned back.

On Saturday we marched from our ground, and proceeded, march after march, upon Agra. I went and saw Tughlakābād^b; after which I rejoined the camp.

On Friday, the 22nd of Rajeb, I halted in the suburbs of Agra, at the palace of Suleimān Fermūli. As this position was very far from the fort, I next morning moved and took up my quarters at the palace of Jalāl Khān Jighat. The people of the fort had put off Humāiūn, who arrived before me, with excuses; and he, on his part, considering that they were under no control, and wishing to prevent their plundering the treasure, had taken a position to shut up the issues from the place.^a

Bikermajīt, a Hindu, who was Raja of Gwāliār, had governed that country for upwards of a hundred years.^{b 1} Sikander had remained several years in Agra, employed in an attempt to take Gwāliār. Afterwards, in the reign of Ibrahīm, Azīm Humāiūn Sarwāni invested it for some time, made several attacks, and at length succeeded in gaining it by treaty, Shamsābād² being given as an indemnification. In the battle in which Ibrahīm was defeated, Bikermajīt was sent to hell.³ Bikermajīt’s family, and the heads of his clan,^c were at this moment in Agra. When Humāiūn arrived, Bikermajīt’s people attempted to escape, but were taken by the parties which Humāiūn had placed upon the watch, and put in custody. Humāiūn did not permit them to be plundered. Of their own free will they presented to Humāiūn a peshkesh, consisting of a quantity of jewels and precious stones. Among these was one famous diamond, which had been acquired by Sultan Alā ed dīn.⁴ It is so valuable, that a judge of diamonds valued it at half of the daily expense^a of the whole world. It is about eight mishkals.¹ On my arrival, Humāiūn presented it to me as a peshkesh, and I gave it back to him as a present.

Among the officers of superior importance in the fort were Malik Dād Kerāni, Malik Sūrdek, and Firoz Khan Miswāni who, having been convicted of some frauds, were ordered for punishment.^b When Malik Dād Kerāni was carried out, much intercession was made for him.^c Backwards and forwards, the matter was not settled for four or five days, when, according to the desire of his intercessors, I pardoned him, and even conferred on him some marks of favour; I also permitted all his adherents to retain their property.^d

A perganna^e of the value of seven laks² was bestowed on Ibrahīm’s mother. Pergannas were also given to each of her Amīrs. She was conducted with all her effects to a palace^f which was assigned for her residence, about a kos below Agra.

On Thursday, the 28th of Rajeb, about the hour of afternoon prayers, I entered Agra, and took up my residence at Sultan Ibrahīm’s palace. From the time when I conquered the country of Kābul, which was in the year 910, till the [1504] present time, I had always been bent on subduing Hindustān. Sometimes, however, from the misconduct^g of my Amīrs and their dislike of the plan, sometimes from the cabals and opposition of my brothers, I was prevented from prosecuting any expedition into that country, and its provinces escaped being overrun. At length these obstacles were removed. There was now no one left, great or small, noble or private man, who could dare to utter a word in [1519] opposition to the enterprise. In the year 925 I collected an army, and having taken the fort of Bajour by storm in two or three gharis, put all the garrison to the sword. I next advanced into Behreh, where I prevented all marauding and plunder, imposed a contribution on the inhabitants,^a and having levied it to the amount of four hundred thousand shahrokhis in money and goods, divided the proceeds among the troops who were in my service, and returned back to [1525.] Kābul. From that time till the year 932, I attached myself in a peculiar degree to the affairs of Hindustān, and in the space of these seven or eight years entered it five times at the head of an army.¹ The fifth time, the Most High God, of his grace and mercy, cast down and defeated an enemy so mighty as Sultan Ibrahīm, and made me the master and Reflections
on the
conquest of
Hindustān. conqueror of the powerful empire of Hindustān. From the time of the blessed Prophet (on whom and on his family be peace and salvation!) down to the present time, three foreign kings had subdued the country, and acquired the sovereignty of Hindustān. One of these was Sultan Mahmūd Ghāzi,² whose family long continued to fill the throne of that country. The second was Sultan Shahābeddīn Ghūri,³ and for many years his slaves and dependants swayed the sceptre of these realms. I am the third. But my achievement is not to be put on the same level with theirs; for Sultan Mahmūd, at the time when he conquered Hindustān, occupied the throne of Khorasān, and had absolute power and dominion over the Sultans of Khwārizm and the surrounding chiefs.^b The King of Samarkand, too, was subject to him. If his army did not amount to two hundred thousand, yet grant that it was only one hundred thousand,^a and it is plain that the comparison between the two conquests must cease.^b Moreover, his enemies were Rajas. All Hindustān was not at that period subject to a single Emperor: every Raja set up for a monarch on his own account, in his own petty territories. Again, though Sultan Shahābeddīn Ghūri did not himself enjoy the sovereignty of Khorasān, yet his elder brother, Sultan Ghiaseddīn Ghūri, held it. In the Tabakāt-e-Nāsiri¹ it is said, that on one occasion he marched into Hindustān with one hundred and twenty thousand cataphract² horse. His enemies, too, were Rais and Rajas; a single monarch did not govern the whole of Hindustān. When I marched into Behreh, we might amount to one thousand five hundred, or two thousand men at the utmost. When I invaded the country for the fifth time, overthrew Sultan Ibrahīm, and subdued the empire of Hindustān, I had a larger army than I had ever before brought into it. My servants, the merchants and their servants, and the followers of all descriptions that were in the camp along with me, were numbered, and amounted to twelve thousand men. The kingdoms that depended on me were Badakhshan, Kunduz, Kābul, and Kandahār; but these countries did not furnish me with assistance equal to their resources; and, indeed, some of them, from their vicinity to the enemy, were so circumstanced, that, far from affording me assistance, I was obliged to send them extensive supplies from my other territories. Besides this, all Māweralnaher was occupied by the Khans and Sultans of the Uzbeks, whose armies were calculated to amount to about a hundred thousand men, and who were my ancient foes. Finally, the whole empire of Hindustān, from Behreh to Behār, was in the hands of the Afghans.³ Their prince, Sultan Ibrahīm, from the resources of his kingdom, could bring into the field an army of five hundred thousand men. At that time^a some of the Amīrs to the east were in a state of rebellion. His army on foot was computed to be a hundred thousand strong; his own elephants, with those of his Amīrs, were reckoned at nearly a thousand. Yet, under such circumstances, and in spite of this power, placing my trust in God, and leaving behind me my old and inveterate enemy the Uzbeks, who had an army of a hundred thousand men, I advanced to meet so powerful a prince as Sultan Ibrahīm, the lord of numerous armies, and emperor of extensive territories. In consideration of my confidence in Divine aid, the Most High God did not suffer the distress and hardships that I had undergone to be thrown away, but defeated my formidable enemy, and made me the conqueror of the noble^b country of Hindustān. This success I do not ascribe to my own strength, nor did this good fortune flow from my own efforts, but from the fountain of the favour and mercy of God.

The empire of Hindustān is extensive, populous, and rich. On the east, the south, and even the west, it is bounded by the Great Ocean.^c On the north,^d it has Kābul, Ghazni, and Kandahār. The capital of all Hindustān is Delhi. From the time of Sultan Shahābeddīn Ghūri to the end of Sultan Firoz Shah’s time,¹ the great part of Hindustān was in the possession of the Emperors of Delhi. At the Musulman
princes. period when I conquered that country, five Musulman Kings and two Pagans exercised royal authority. Although there were many small and inconsiderable Rais and Rajas in the hills and woody country, yet these were the chief and Kingdom
of the
Afghans or
of Delhi; the only ones of importance. One of these powers was the Afghans, whose government included the capital, and extended from Behreh to Behār. Jaunpūr, before it fell into the power of the Afghans, was held by Sultan Hussain including
the Purbi
kingdom. Sharki. This dynasty they called the Purbi¹ (or eastern). Their forefathers had been cup-bearers to Sultan Firoz Shah and that race of Sultans. After Sultan Firoz Shah’s death, they gained possession of the kingdom of Jaunpūr.² Delhi was at that period in the hands of Sultan Alā ed dīn,³ whose family were Syeds. When Taimūr Beg invaded Hindustān, before leaving the country, he had bestowed the government of Delhi on their ancestors. Sultan Bahlol Lodi⁴ Afghan and his son Sultan Sikander,⁵ afterwards seized the throne of Delhi, as well as that of Jaunpūr, and reduced both kingdoms under one government.

The second prince was Sultan Muhammed Muzaffer, in Gujerāt.⁶ He had departed this life a few days before Sultan Ibrahīm’s defeat. He was a prince well skilled in learning,^a and fond of reading the Hadīs (or traditions). He was constantly employed in writing the Korān. They call this race Tānk. Their ancestors were cup-bearers to the Sultan Firoz that has been mentioned, and his family. After the death of Firoz Shah they took possession of the throne of Gujerāt.

The third kingdom is that of the Bahmanis in the Dekhan, but at the present time the Sultans of the Dekhan have no authority or power left.¹ All the different districts of their kingdom have been seized by their most powerful nobles; and, when the prince needs anything, he is obliged to ask it of his own Amīrs.

The fourth King was Sultan Mahmūd, who reigned in the country of Mālwa, which they likewise call Māndu. This dynasty was called the Khilji. Rana Sanka, a pagan, had defeated them and occupied a number of their provinces. This dynasty also had become weak. Their ancestors, too, had been originally brought forward and patronized by Sultan Firoz Shah, after whose demise they occupied the kingdom of Mālwa.²

The fifth prince was Nasret Shah³ in the kingdom of Bengal. His father had been King of Bengal, and was a Syed of the name of Sultan Alā ed dīn. He had attained Singular
custom. this throne by hereditary succession. It is a singular custom in Bengal, that there is little of hereditary descent in succession to the sovereignty. There is a throne allotted for the King; there is, in like manner, a seat or station assigned for each of the Amīrs, Wazīrs, and Mansabdārs.¹ It is that throne and these stations alone which engage the reverence of the people of Bengal. A set of dependants, servants, and attendants are annexed to each of these situations. When the King wishes to dismiss or appoint any person, whosoever is placed in the seat of the one dismissed, is immediately attended and obeyed by the whole establishment of dependants, servants, and retainers annexed to the seat which he occupies. Nay, this rule obtains even as to the royal throne itself. Whoever kills the King and succeeds in placing himself on that throne, is immediately acknowledged as King;² all the Amīrs, Wazīrs, soldiers, and peasants instantly obey and submit to him, and consider him as being as much their sovereign as they did their former prince, and obey his orders implicitly. The people of Bengal say, ‘We are faithful to the throne—whoever fills the throne, we are obedient and true to it’. As, for instance, before the accession of Nasrat Shah’s father, an Abyssinian having killed the reigning King mounted the throne, and governed the kingdom for some time.³ Sultan Alā ed dīn killed the Abyssinian, ascended the throne, and was acknowledged as King. After Sultan Alā ed dīn’s death, the kingdom devolved by succession to his son, who now reigned. There is another usage in Bengal; it is reckoned disgraceful and mean for any king to spend or diminish the treasures of his predecessors. It is reckoned necessary for every king, on mounting the throne, to collect a new treasure for himself. To collect a treasure is, by these people, deemed a great glory and ground of distinction. There is another custom, that pergannas have been assigned from ancient times to defray the expenses of each department, the treasury, the stable, and all the royal establishments; no expenses are paid in any other manner.^a

The five kings who have been mentioned are great princes, and are all Musulmans, and possessed of formidable armies.^b Hindū
princes. The most powerful of the pagan princes, in point of territory and army, is the Raja of Bījnager.¹ Another is the Rāna Sanka,² who has attained his present high eminence, only in these later times, by his own valour and his sword. His original principality was Chitūr.¹ During the confusions that prevailed among princes of the kingdom of Māndu, he seized a number of provinces which had depended on Māndu, such as Rantambhor,² Sārangpūr, Bhīlsa, and Chanderi. In A. D. 1528. the year 934, by the divine favour, in the space of a few hours, I took by storm Chanderi, which was commanded by Medini Rao,³ one of the highest and most distinguished of Rāna Sanka’s officers, put all the pagans to the sword, and from the mansion of hostility which it had long been converted it into the mansion of the faith, as will be hereafter more fully detailed. There were a number of other Rais and Rajas on the borders and within the territory of Hindustān^a; many of whom,^b on account of their remoteness, or the difficulty of access into their country, have never submitted to the Musulman kings.

Hindustān is situated in the first, second, and third climates. No part of it is in the fourth. It is a remarkably fine country. It is quite a different world, compared with our countries. Its hills and rivers, its forests and plains, its animals and plants, its inhabitants and their languages, its winds and rains, are all of a different nature. Although the garmsīls (or hot districts), in the territory of Kābul, bear, in many respects, some resemblance to Hindustān, while in other particulars they differ, yet you have no sooner passed the river Sind than the country,^c the trees, the stones, the wandering tribes, the manners and customs of the Northern
hills. people, are all entirely those of Hindustān. The northern range of hills has been mentioned. Immediately on crossing the river Sind, we come upon several countries in this range of mountains, connected with Kashmīr, such as Pakhli and Shemeng.¹ Most of them, though now independent of Kashmīr, were formerly included in its territories. After leaving Kashmīr, these hills contain innumerable tribes and states, pergannas and countries, and extend all the way to Bengal and the shores of the Great Ocean. Their inha-
bitants. About these hills are other tribes of men.^a With all the investigation and inquiry that I could make among the natives of Hindustān, I could get no sort of description or authentic information regarding them. All that I could learn was, that the men of these hills were called Kas. It struck me, that, as the Hindustānis frequently confound shīn and sīn, and as Kashmīr is the chief, and indeed, as far as I have heard, the only city in these hills, it may have taken its name from that circumstance.¹ The chief trade of the inhabitants of these hills is in musk-bags, the tails of the mountain-cow,² saffron, lead, and copper. The natives of Hind call these hills Sawālak-parbat. In the language of Hind, sawalāk means a lak and a quarter (or one hundred and twenty-five thousand), and parbat means a hill, that is, the hundred and twenty-five thousand hills. On these hills the snow never melts, and from some parts of Hindustān, such as Lahore, Sirhind, and Sambal, it is seen white on them all the year round. This range of hills takes the name of Hindū-kūsh, near Kābul, and runs from Kābul eastward, but inclining a little to the south. All to the south of this range is Hindustān. To the north of these hills, and of that unknown race of men whom they call Kas, lies Tibet.¹ Rivers
from the
northern
hills. A great number of rivers take their rise in these mountains, and flow through Hindustān. To the north of Sirhind, six rivers, the Sind, the Behāt, the Chenāb, the Rāvi, the Biās, and the Satlej,² take their rise in these mountains, and all uniting with the Sind in the territory of Multān, take the common name of the Sind, which, flowing down to the west, passes through the country of Tatta, and disembogues into the sea of Omān. Besides these six rivers, there are other rivers, such as the Jumna, the Ganges, the Rahet,³ the Gūmti, the Gogra, the Sirūd, the Gandak, and a number of others, that all throw themselves into the Ganges,⁴ which, preserving its name, proceeds towards the east, and, passing through the midst of Bengal, empties itself into the Great Ocean. The sources of all these rivers are in the Sawālak Other
rivers. mountains. There are, however, several other rivers, such as the Chambal, the Banās, the Betwa, and the Son, which rise from ranges of hills that are within Hindustān. In these ranges, it never snows. These rivers likewise fall into the Ganges.¹

There are several ranges of hills in Hindustān. Among these is a detached branch that runs from north to south.² It rises in the territory of Delhi, at the Jehān-numā,³ a palace of Sultan Firoz Shah, which stands on a small rocky hillock. After passing this, it breaks, in the neighbourhood of Delhi, into a number of detached, scattered, small, rocky hills, that lie in different directions. When it gains the country of Mewāt,⁴ the hills rise in height, and when it leaves Mewāt, it enters the country of Biāna.¹ The countries^a of Sīkri,² Bāri,³ and Dhūlpūr⁴ are formed by this range, although not comprehended within it^b; and the hill-country of Gwāliār,⁵ which they also call Galiūr, is formed by a detached offset from it. The hill-country of Rantambhor, Chitūr, Māndu,⁶ and Chanderi is formed by branches of this same range. In some places it is interrupted for seven or eight kos. This hilly tract is composed of very low, rough, rugged, stony, and jungly hills. In this range it never snows; but several of the rivers of Hindustān originate among the hills of which it is composed.

Most of the districts of Hindustān are plain and level. Irrigation
of the
country. Though Hindustān contains so many provinces,^a none of them has any artificial canals for irrigation. It is watered only by rivers, though in some places, too, there is standing water.¹ Even in those cities which are so situated as to admit of digging a water-course, and thereby bringing water into them, yet no water has been brought in. There may be several reasons for this. One of them is, that water is not absolutely requisite for the crops and gardens. The autumnal crop is nourished by the rains of the rainy season. It is remarkable that there is a spring crop even though no rain falls.² They raise water for the young trees, till they are one or two years old, by means of a water-wheel or buckets; after that time it is not at all necessary to water them. Some vegetables they water.^b In Lahore,³ Debālpūr, Sirhind, and the neighbouring districts, they water by means of a wheel.⁴ They first take two ropes, of a length suited to the depth of the well, and fasten each of them so as to form a circle; between the two circular ropes they insert pieces of wood connecting them, and to these they fix water-pitchers. The ropes so prepared, with the pitchers attached to them by means of the pieces of wood, they throw over a wheel that is placed on the top of the well. On the one end of the axle-tree of this wheel they place another wheel with teeth, and to the side of this last they apply a third, which they make with an upright axle. When the bullocks turn this last wheel round, its teeth, working upon those of the second wheel, turn the large wheel on which is the circle of pitchers. They make a trough under the place where the water is discharged by the revolution of the pitchers, and from this trough convey the water to whatever place it may be required. They have another contrivance for raising water for irrigation in Agra, Biāna, Chāndwār,¹ and that quarter, by means of a bucket.² This is very troublesome, and filthy besides. On the brink of a well they fix in strongly two forked pieces of wood, and between their prongs insert a roller. They then fasten a great water-bucket to long ropes, which they bring over the roller; one end of this rope they tie to the bullock, and while one man drives the bullock, another is employed to pour the water out of the bucket (when it reaches the top of the well). Every time that the bullock raises the bucket from the well, as it is let down again, the rope slides along the bullock-course, is defiled with urine and dung, and in this filthy condition falls into the well. In many instances, where fields require to be watered, the men and women draw water in buckets^a and irrigate them.

The country and towns of Hindustān are extremely ugly. All its towns and lands have a uniform look; its gardens have no walls; the greater part of it is a level plain. The banks of its rivers and streams, in consequence of the rushing of the torrents that descend during the rainy season, are worn deep into the channel, which makes it generally difficult and troublesome to cross them. In many places, the plain is covered by a thorny brushwood, to such a degree that the people of the pergannas, relying on these forests, take shelter in them, and, trusting to their inaccessible situation, often continue in a state of revolt, refusing to pay their taxes. In Hindustān, if you except the rivers, there is little running water.¹ Now and then some standing water is to be met with. All these cities and countries derive their water from wells or tanks, in which it is collected during the rainy season. In Hindustān, the populousness and decay, or total destruction of villages, nay of cities, is almost instantaneous. Large cities that have been inhabited for a series of years (if, on an alarm, the inhabitants take to flight), in a single day, or a day and a half, are so completely abandoned, that you can scarcely discover a trace or mark of population.² And if, on the other hand, they intend to settle on any particular spot, as they do not need to run water-courses, or to build flood-mounds, their crops being produced without irrigation,³ and the population of Hindustān being unlimited, inhabitants swarm in every direction. They make a tank or dig a well; there is no need of building a strong house or erecting a firm wall; they have abundance of strong grass, and plenty of timber, of which they run up hovels, and a village or town is constructed in an instant.

As for the animals peculiar to Hindustān, one is the elephant, the Hindustānis call it Hāthi, which inhabits^a the district of Kālpi¹; and the higher you advance from thence The ele-
phant. towards the east, the more do the wild elephants increase in number. That is the tract in which the elephant is chiefly taken. There may be thirty or forty villages in Karrah² and Mānikpūr³ that are occupied solely in this employment of taking elephants.⁴ They account to the Government for the elephants which they take. The elephant is an immense animal, and of great sagacity. It understands whatever you tell it, and does whatever it is bid. Its value is in proportion to its size. When it arrives at a proper age^b they sell it, and the largest brings the highest price. They say that in some islands the elephant grows to the height of ten gaz.⁵ I have never, in these countries, seen one above four or five gaz. The elephant eats and drinks entirely by means of his trunk. He cannot live if he loses it. On the two sides of his trunk, in his upper jaw, he has two tusks; it is by applying these teeth, and exerting all his force, that he overturns walls and tears up trees; and, when he fights or performs any operation that requires great exertion, he makes use of these tusks, which they call āj.¹ The tusks are highly valued by the Hindus. The elephant is not covered with hair or wool² like other animals.^a The natives of Hindustān place great reliance on their elephants; in their armies, every division has invariably a certain number with it. The elephant has some valuable qualities: it can carry a great quantity of baggage over deep and rapid torrents, and passes them with ease; gun-carriages, which it takes four or five hundred men to drag, two or three^b elephants draw without difficulty. But it has a great stomach, and a single elephant will consume the grain of seven or fourteen^c camels.

The rhinoceros is another. This also is a huge animal. Its bulk is equal to that of three buffaloes. The opinion prevalent in our countries, that a rhinoceros can lift an elephant on its horn, is probably a mistake. It has a single horn over its nose, upwards of a span in length, but I never saw one of two spans. Out of one of the largest of these horns I had a drinking-vessel³ made, and a dice-box, and about three or four fingers’ bulk of it might be left. Its hide is very thick. If it be shot at with a powerful bow, drawn up to the armpit with much force, and if the arrow pierces at all, it enters only three or four^d fingers’ breadth. They say, however, that there are parts of its skin that may be pierced, and the arrows enter deep. On the sides of its two shoulder-blades, and of its two thighs, are folds that hang loose, and appear at a distance like cloth housings dangling over it. It bears more resemblance to the horse than to any other animal.⁴ As the horse has a large stomach, so has⁵ this; as the pastern of the horse is composed of a single bone, so also is that of the rhinoceros; as there is a gumek¹ in the horse’s foreleg, so is there in that of the rhinoceros. It is more ferocious than the elephant, and cannot be rendered so tame or obedient. There are numbers of them in the jungles of Pershāwer and Hashnaghar, as well as between the river Sind and Behreh in the jungles. In Hindustān, too, they abound on the banks of the river Sarū.² In the course of my expeditions into Hindustān, in the jungles of Pershāwer, and Hashnaghar,³ I frequently killed the rhinoceros. It strikes powerfully with its horn, with which, in the course of these hunts, many men, and many horses, were gored. In one hunt, it tossed with its horn, a full spear’s length, the horse of a young man named Maksūd, whence he got the name of Rhinoceros Maksūd.⁴

Another animal is the wild buffalo. It is much larger than the common buffalo. Its horns go back^a like those of the common buffalo, but not so as to grow into the flesh.^b It is a very destructive and ferocious animal.⁵

Another is the nīlgau.⁶ Its height is about equal to that of a horse. It is somewhat slenderer. The male is bluish, whence it is called the nīlgau.⁷ It has two small horns, and on its neck has some hair,^c more than a span in length,⁸ which bears much resemblance to the mountain-cow tassels.⁹ Its tail is like the bull’s.^d The colour of the female is like that of the gawazen deer¹⁰; she has no horns, nor any hair on the under part of her neck; and is plumper than the male.

Another is the kotah-paicheh.¹¹ Its size may be equal to that of the white deer. Its two forelegs as well as its thighs are short, whence its name (short-legged). Its horns are branching like those of the gawazen, but less. Every year, too, it casts its horns like the stag. It is a bad runner, and therefore never leaves the jungle.

There is another species of deer that resembles the male huneh or jīrān.¹ Its back is black, its belly white, its horns longer than those of the huneh, and more crooked. The Hindustānis call it kalhareh. This word was probably originally kālahirn, that is black deer, which they have corrupted into kalhareh.² The female is white. They take deer by means of this kalhareh. They make fast a running^a net to its horns, and tie a stone larger than a football^b to its leg,^c that, after it is separated from the deer,^d it may be hindered from running far. When the deer sees the wild kalhareh it advances up to it, presenting its head.^e This species of deer is very fond of fighting, and comes on to butt with its horns. When they have engaged and pushed at each other with their horns, in the course of their moving backwards and forwards, the net which has been fastened on the tame one’s horns, gets entangled in those of the wild deer, and prevents its escape. Though the wild deer uses every effort to flee, the tame one does not run off, and is greatly impeded by the stone tied to its leg, which keeps back the other also.^f In this way they take a number of deer,³ which they afterwards tame.^g They likewise take deer by setting nets.^h They breed this tame deer to fight in their houses; it makes an excellent battle.ⁱ

There is on the skirts of the mountains of Hindustān another deer which is smaller. It may be equal in size to a sheep¹ of a year old.^a

Another is the gau-gīnī²; it is a small species of cow, like the larger kūchkār³ (or ram) of our country. Its flesh is very tender and savoury.

The monkey is another of the animals of the country. The Hindustānis call it bander. There are many species of them. One species is the same that is brought to our countries. The jugglers teach them tricks. It is met with in the hill-country of the Dareh (or valley of) Nūr, on the Koh-e-sefīd, in the skirts of the hills^b in the neighbourhood of Kheiber, and from thence downward throughout all Hindustān. It is not found any higher up than the places I have mentioned. Its hair is yellow, its face white, its tail is not very long.⁴ There is another species of monkey, which is not found in Bajour, Sawād, and these districts, and is much larger than the kinds that are brought into our country. Its tail is very long, its hair whitish, its face entirely black. They call this species of monkey langūr,^{c 5} and it is met with in the hills and woods of Hindustān. There is still another species of monkey, whose hair, face, and all its limbs are quite black; they bring it from several islands of the sea. There is yet another species of monkey brought from some islands. Its colour approaches to a yellowish blue, somewhat like the skin of the fig. Its head is broadish, and it is of a much larger size than other monkeys. It is very fierce and destructive.^{d 6}

Another is the nol⁷ (or mungoose). It is a little smaller than the kīsh. It mounts on trees; many also call it the mūsh-khūrma. They reckon it lucky. There is another Squirrel. of the mouse species, which they call galahrī (the squirrel)¹; it always lives in trees, and runs up and down them with surprising nimbleness.

Of the birds, one is the peacock.² It is a beautifully coloured and splendid animal. It is less remarkable for its bulk than for its colour and beauty. Its size may be about that of a crane, but it is not so tall. On the head of the peacock, and of the peahen, there may be about twenty or thirty feathers, rising two or three fingers’ breadth in height. The peahen is neither richly coloured nor beautiful. The head of the male has a lustrous and undulating^a colour. Its neck is of a fine azure. Lower down than the neck, its back is painted with the richest yellow, green, azure, and violet; the flowers or stars on its back are but small; below, they increase in size, still preserving the same colour and splendour, down to the very extremity of the tail. The tail of some peacocks is as high as a man.^b Below these richly-painted feathers of its tail it has another smaller tail like that of other birds, and this ordinary tail, and the feathers of its sides, are red. It is found in Bajour and Sawād, and in the countries below, but not in Kuner or Lamghānāt, or in any place higher up. It flies even worse than the karkāwel (or pheasant), and cannot take more than one or two flights at a time.³ On account of its flying so ill, it always frequents either a hilly country or a jungle. It is remarkable, that whenever there are many peacocks in a wood there are also a number of jackals in it; and as they have to drag after them a tail the size of a man,^a it may easily be supposed how much they are molested by the jackals, in their passage from one thicket to another. The Hindustānis call them mor. According to the doctrines of Imām Abu Hanīfeh, this bird is lawful food. Its flesh is not unpleasant. It resembles that of the quail,^b but it is eaten with some degree of loathing, like that of the camel.

Another is the parrot, which also is found in Bajour and the countries below it. In the spring,^c when the mulberry ripens, it comes up into Nangenhār and Lamghānāt, but is found there at no other season. There are many species of parrot. One is that which they carry into our countries, and teach to talk.¹ There is another species, of smaller size, which is also taught to speak. They call it the wood-parrot. Great numbers of this species are found in Bajour, Sawād, and the neighbouring districts, insomuch, that they go in flights of five and six thousand. These two species differ only in bulk; both have the same colours. There is another species of parrot, which is still smaller than the wood-parrot. Its head is red, as well as its upper feathers. From the tip of its tail to within two fingers’ breadth of its feet, it is white.^d The head of many of this species is lustrous, and they do not speak. They call it the Kashmīr parrot.² There is another species of parrot like the wood-parrot, but a little less. Its beak is red^e; round its neck is a broad black circle like a collar. Its upper feathers are crimson; it learns to speak well. I had imagined that a parrot, or shārak, only repeated what it had been taught, and that it could reduce nothing into words from its own reflections. Abul Kāsim Jelair, who is one of my most familiar servants, lately told me a remarkable incident. The cage of a parrot of this last-mentioned species having been covered up, the parrot called out, ‘Uncover my face; I cannot breathe.’ On another occasion, when the bearers who were employed to carry it had set it down to rest themselves, and a number of people passed by, the parrot called out, ‘Everybody is going by, why don’t you go on?’ Let the credit rest with the relater! Yet till one hears such things with his own ears, he never can believe them. There is another kind of parrot, of a beautiful red colour; it has also other colours. As I do not precisely recollect its appearance, I therefore do not describe it particularly. It is a very elegant bird,^a and learns to talk. It has one great defect, that its voice is particularly disagreeable, having a sharp and grating sound,¹ as if you rubbed a piece of broken china on a copper plate.

Another of the birds of Hindustān is the shārak, which abounds in the Lamghānāt, and everywhere lower down, over the whole of Hindustān. The shārak is of different species. One is that which is found in great numbers in the Lamghānāt. Its head is black, its wings white^b; its size rather larger than the chughur,² and slenderer. It learns to speak. There is another sort, which they call pindāweli. They bring it from Bengal. It is all black. It is much larger than the other shārak. Its bill and foot are yellow. In its two ears are two yellow leathers, which hang down, and look very ugly. They call it the meina.³ It learns to speak, and speaks well and fluently. There is another kind of shārak a little slenderer than this last.⁴ It is red round the eye. This kind does not talk. When I threw a bridge over the Ganges, and crossed it, driving the enemy before me, I saw in Lucknow, Oudh, and these countries, a species of shārak, which had a white breast, and a piebald head, with a black back.⁵ I had never seen it before. This species probably does not learn to speak at all.

Another is the lūjeh.¹ This fowl they also call the būkalemūn.² From the head to the tail, it has five or six different colours. Its neck has a bright glancing³ tinge like the pigeon’s. In size, it is equal to the kabk i durri. It may be regarded as the kabk i durri⁴ of Hindustān; as the kabk i durri inhabits the summits of the mountains, this also inhabits the tops of the mountains. They are met with in the country of Kābul and the hill-country of Nijrau,^a and from thence downward, wherever there are hills; but they are not found any higher up. A remarkable circumstance is told of them. It is said, that in winter they come down to the skirts of the hills, and that if in their flight one of them happens to pass over a vineyard, it can no longer fly, and is taken. God knows the truth! Its flesh is very savoury.

Another bird is the dūrraj (or partridge).⁵ It is not peculiar to Hindustān. It is found everywhere in the countries of the garmsil. But, as certain species of it are found only in Hindustān, I have included it in this descriptive enumeration. The partridge may be equal to the kabk i durri^{b 6} in size. The colour of its back is like that of the female of the murgh-e-dashti (or jungle fowl).^c Its neck and breast are black, with bright white spots. On both sides of both its eyes is a line of red. It has a cry like Shīr dārem, shakrek.⁷ From its cry it gets its name. It pronounces shīr short, dārem shakrek it pronounces distinctly. The partridges of Asterābād are said to cry Bāt mīni, tūti lār.⁸ The cry of the partridges of Arabia and the neighbouring countries is, Bil shuker tadūm al niam.¹ The colour of the hen bird resembles that of the young karkāwel (or pheasant). They are found below Nijrau. There is another fowl of the partridge kind, which they call kanjel.² It is about the size of the partridge. Its cry is very like that of a kabk, but shriller. There is little difference in colour between the male and female. It is found in the country of Pershāwer, Hashnaghar, and in the countries lower down, but in no district higher up.

Another bird is the pūlpeikar.³ Its size is equal to that of the kabk i durri. Its figure resembles the dung-hill cock, and in colour it is like the hen. From its forehead down to its breast it is of a beautiful scarlet colour. The pūlpeikar inhabits the hill-country of Hindustān.

The murgh-e-sahrā⁴ (fowl of the wild) is another. The difference between it and the barn-door fowl is, that the fowl of the wild flies like the karkāwel (or pheasant); it is not of every^a colour like the barn-door fowl. It is found in the hill-country of Bajour, and the hill-country lower down. It is not met with above Bajour.

Another is the chelsi, which is like^b the pūlpeikar, but the pūlpeikar has finer colours. It inhabits the hill-country of Bajour.

Another is the shām.⁵ It may be about the size of the common cock, and is of various colours. It also is found in the hill-country of Bajour.

Another is the budīneh (or quail), which is not peculiar to Hindustān, but there are four or five species of it peculiar to that country. There is one species that visits our countries.¹ It is larger and more spreading than the common budīneh. There is another species, which is less than the budīnehs that visit us.² Its wings and tail are reddish. This budīneh goes in flights like the chīr.³ There is still another species, which is smaller than the budīnehs that visit our country. They are generally black on the throat and breast.⁴ There is another species which seldom visits Kābul. It is small, somewhat larger than the kārcheh; in Kābul they call it kūrātū.⁵

Another is the kharchāl (or bustard), which may be about the size of the tughdāk, and is in reality the tughdāk⁶ of Hindustān. Its flesh is very savoury. The flesh of the leg of some fowls, and of the breast of others, is excellent; the flesh of every part of the kharchāl is delicious.

Another is the charz⁷ (or floriken). Its size is somewhat less than the tughderi.⁸ The back of the male is like that of the tughderi; its breast is black. The female is all of a single colour. The flesh of the charz is very delicate. As the kharchāl resembles the tughdāk, the charz resembles the tughderi.

Another is the bāghri-kara⁹ (or rock-pigeon) of Hindustān, which is less than the bāghri-kara of the west,¹⁰ and slenderer; its cry, too, is sharper.

There are other fowls, that frequent the water and the banks of rivers. One of these is the dīng¹¹ (or adjutant), Dīng (or
adjutant). which is a large bird. Each of its wings is the length of a man;^a on its head and neck there is no hair;^b something like a bag hangs from its neck; its back is black, its breast white; it frequently^c visits Kābul. One year they caught and brought me a dīng, which became very tame. The flesh which they threw it, it never failed to catch in its beak, and swallowed without ceremony. On one occasion, it swallowed a shoe well shod with iron; on another occasion, it swallowed a good-sized fowl right down, with its wings and feathers.

Another is the sāras.¹ The Tūrks who are in Hindustān call it tīweh-tūrneh.² It is a little less than the dīng. The neck of the dīng is longer than that of the sāras.^d Its head is red. They keep it about their houses, and it becomes very tame.

Another is the minkisā,³ which is nearly of the height of the sāras, but its size is less. It resembles the stork,⁴ but is much larger. Its bill is longer than the stork’s, and is black. Its head is polished and shining, its neck white, its wings parti-coloured. The edges and roots of the feathers of its wings are white, and the middle black.

There is another sort of stork, which has a white neck, while its head and all the rest of its body are black. It migrates to our countries. It is rather less than the common stork. This stork the Hindustānis call yak dīng.⁵ There is another stork, which resembles in colour and shape the stork that visits our countries. Its beak is generally black and white,^e and is much smaller than the other. There is yet another fowl which resembles the stork and heron.⁶ The bill of this bird is longer than the heron’s and larger. In size it is less than the stork.

Another is the large būzek¹ (or curlew). Its bulk may be about that of the starling. Its head and two wings^a are white. It has a loud cry. Another is the white būzek.² Its head and bill and black. It is considerably larger than the būzek of our countries, but less than the būzek of Hindustān.³

There is another water-fowl, which they call gheret-pāi.⁴ It is larger than the sona burchīn. The male and female are of the same colour. It is always found in Hashnaghar, and sometimes visits the Lamghānāt. Its flesh is very delicate.

There is another waterfowl which they call shāhmurgh.⁵ It may be rather less than the goose. It has a swelling above its nose. Its breast is white, its back black, and its flesh is excellent.

Another is the zumej,⁶ which is about the size of a būrkūt (or falcon). It is of a black colour.

Another is the starling.⁷ Its tail and back are red.

Another is the ala-kūrgheh⁸ (or magpie) of Hindustān. It is slender and smaller than the ala-kūrgheh (or magpie) of my native country. It has some white on its neck.

There is another bird, which bears some resemblance to the carrion crow.^a In Lamghānāt they call it the wood-fowl. Its head and breast are black, its wings and tail red, its eyes a very deep red.¹ From its being weak and flying ill, it never comes out of the woods, whence it is that it gets the name of the wood-fowl.

Another is the great bat; they call it chamgīdri.² It is about the size of the owl, and its head resembles that of a young whelp. It lays hold of a branch of the tree on which it intends to roost, turns head undermost, and so hangs, presenting a very singular appearance.

Another is the aakeh³ of Hindustān; they call it mitā. It is a little smaller than the common aakeh, which is parti-coloured black and white, while the mitā is parti-coloured brown and black.

There is another bird whose size may be equal to that of the sandūlaj-mamūla.⁴ It is of a beautiful red, and on its wings has a little black.

Another is the kārcheh. It resembles the kārlughāch,⁵ but is much larger than that bird; it is entirely of a black colour.

Another is the koel,⁶ which in length may be equal to the crow, but is much thinner. It has a kind of song, and is the nightingale of Hindustān. It is respected by the natives of Hindustān as much as the nightingale by us. It inhabits gardens where the trees are close planted.

There is another bird resembling the shikrāk. It lives close among and about trees,^a and may be about the size of a shikrāk. It is green-coloured like the parrot.¹

Of the aquatic animals, one is the alligator.² It dwells in standing waters,³ and resembles the crocodile.⁴ They say Alligator. that it carries off men, and even buffaloes. Another is the sipsar⁵ (another species of alligator). This, too, is like the crocodile. It inhabits all the rivers of Hindustān. One was caught and brought to me. It may be about four or five gaz in length,^b and some are even larger. Its snout is upwards of half a gaz long. Both in its upper and lower jaw it has several very small ranges of teeth. It comes out and sleeps^c on the edge of the water.

Another is the water hog,⁶ which is also found in all the rivers of Hindustān. It springs up from the water with a jerk, puts up its head^d and plunges it down again, leaving no part of its body visible but the tail. The jaw^e of this animal, too, is like that of the alligator. It is long, and has the same kind of ranges of teeth; in other respects its head and body are like a fish. While it is playing in the water it resembles a water-bag. The water-hogs that are in the river Sarū,¹ while sporting, leap right out of the water. This animal, too, resembles a fish in never leaving the water.

Another is the gariāl, which is a large fish. Many of the army saw it in the river Sarū. It carries off men. During the time that we remained on the river Saru, one or two slave boys^a were seized by it and carried down. Between Ghāzipūr² and Benāres it also carried off two, three, or four of our men.^b In that vicinity I saw the gariāl³ from a distance, but I could not get a distinct view of it.

The kakeh is another fish. On a line with its two ears issue two bones,^c three fingers-breadth in length. When caught it shakes these two bones, which return a singular sound, whence they have given this fish its name of kakeh.

The flesh of the fishes of Hindustān is delicate, and they have few small bones.^d They are surprisingly active. On one occasion a net was laid in a river, from side to side. The fish entered it.^e Each side^f of the net was then raised a gaz^g above the water; yet many of the fish leaped, one after the other, a full gaz over the net, and escaped. There are, besides, in many rivers of Hindustān small fishes, which, if they hear a harsh sound, or the treading of a foot, instantly leap a gaz, or a gaz and a half, out of the water.

The frogs of Hindustān are worthy of notice. Though of the same species as our own, yet they will run six or seven gaz on the face of the water.

Of the vegetable productions peculiar to Hindustān, one Mango. is the mango (ambeh).¹ The natives of Hindustān generally pronounce the bi in it, as if no vowel followed; but as this makes the word difficult to articulate, it is sometimes called naghzak, as Khwājeh Khosrou² says:

My mango (my fair³) is the embellisher of the garden,
The most lovely fruit of Hindustān.

Such mangoes as are good are excellent. Many are eaten, but few are good of their kind. They pluck most of them unripe, and ripen them in the house. While unripe the mango makes excellent tarts,^a and extremely good marmalade.^b In short, this is the best fruit of Hindustān. The tree bears a great weight of fruit.^c Many praise the mango so highly as to give it the preference to every kind of fruit, the musk-melon excepted; but it does not appear to me to justify their praises. It resembles the kārdi peach, and ripens in the rains. There are two kinds of it.^d One kind^e they squeeze and soften in the hand, and then, making a hole in its side, press it and suck the juice. The other is like the kārdi peach.^f They take off its skin, and eat it. Its leaf somewhat resembles that of the peach. Its trunk is ill-looking and ill-shaped. In Bengal and Gujerāt the mangoes are excellent.

Another of their fruits is the plantain.⁴ The Arabs call it mauz. Its tree is not very tall, and, indeed, is not entitled to the appellation of tree; it is something between a tree and a vegetable.¹ Its leaf bears some likeness to that of the amān-kara, but the plantain leaf is two gaz in length and nearly one in breadth. A shoot resembling a heart springs up from its centre. The bud of the plantain is on this shoot. This large bud resembles a sheep’s heart. From the root of every leaf that opens round this bud, a row of six or seven flowers springs out. These flowers so rising in a row, afterwards become rows of plantains. When the shoot which resembles a heart expands and blows, the leaves of that large bud opening, the rows of the plantain flowers become visible.^a The plantain has two good qualities: the one is, that it is easily peeled; the other, that it has no stones, and is not stringy. It is rather longer and thinner than the brinjāl.² It is not very sweet. The plantain of Bengal, however, is extremely sweet, and has a very beautiful tree. It has very broad leaves of bright green and is an elegant plant.

Another is the ambli,³ which name they give to the Indian date.^b It has small indented leaves, precisely like the būia,⁴ but the leaves of this tree are smaller. It is a very beautiful tree, and yields a profusion of shade. It grows to a great size, and abounds in a wild state.

Another is the mahweh,⁵ which is also called the gul-chikān. This also is a very wide-spreading tree. The houses of the natives of Hindustān are chiefly constructed of the timber of this tree. They extract a spirit from the flowers of the mahweh. They dry its flowers, and eat them like raisins. It is from them likewise that they extract the liquor.⁶ They^c bear a great resemblance to the kishmish,⁷ and have rather a disagreeable, sickly taste; but the smell of the flower is not agreeable.^a It may be eaten.^b This tree likewise grows wild. Its fruit is ill-tasted. The stone is rather large, and its shell thin. They extract an oil from the kernel.

Another is the kirni.¹ This, though not a wide-spread tree, at the same time is not a small one. Its fruit is of a yellow colour. It is smaller than the jujube. In taste it bears a perfect resemblance to the grape. It leaves rather a bad flavour behind, but it is a good fruit, and is eaten.^c The skin of its stone is thin.

Another is the jāman.² Its leaf perfectly resembles that of the tāl,³ but is thicker and greener. It is on the whole a fine-looking tree. Its fruit resembles the black grape, but has a more acid taste, and iś not very good.

Another is the kermerik.⁴ It is fluted with five sides. In size it may be equal to a ghīnālū,^{d 5} and in length four or five^e fingers-breadth. When ripe it is yellow. This fruit, too, has no stone. If plucked unripe, it is very bitter; when well ripened, it has an agreeably sweet acid, and is a pleasant sweet-flavoured fruit.

Another is the kadhil (or jack).⁶ This has a very bad look and flavour. It looks like a sheep’s stomach stuffed and made into a haggis.⁷ It has a sweet sickly taste. Within it are stones⁸ like a filbert; they bear a considerable resemblance to the date, but the stones are rounder and not so long, and the substance softer than that of the date. They are eaten. This fruit is very adhesive; on account of this adhesive quality, many rub their mouths^a with oil before eating them. They grow not only from the branches and trunk of the tree, but even from its root. You would say that the tree was all hung round with haggises.

Another is the badhil,¹ which may be about the size of an apple. It is not bad-smelling, but is very insipid and tasteless.^b

Another is the ber,² which in Persian they call kunār. It is of various kinds, and is rather longer than the alūcheh³ (or plum). There is another species of it, of the bulk and appearance of the Hussaini grape; but this last sort is seldom good. I have seen a ber in Bandīr^c which was very excellent. This species casts its leaves under the constellations of Taurus and Gemini;⁴ in Cancer and Leo, which is the season of the rains, it regains its leaves, and becomes fresh and flourishing; in Aquarius and Pisces, its fruit ripens.

Another is the karonda,⁵ which grows on shrubby bushes like the jīkeh of my native country. The jīkeh grows in the hill country; this grows in the plain. Its flavour is that of the marmenjān, but is sweeter and less juicy.^a

Another is the paniāla,¹ which is larger than the plum, and resembles the red crab apple. It has an acid taste, and is pleasant. Its tree is taller than the pomegranate, and its leaf resembles the almond leaf, but is less.

Another is the gūler,² whose fruit springs from the trunk of the tree. It resembles the fig. The gūler is a very tasteless thing.

Another is the amleh,³ which is likewise fluted with five sides. It is like the unblown cotton pod, and is a wretched harsh-tasted fruit. When made into marmalade^b it is not bad, and is very wholesome. Its tree is handsome, with very small leaves.

Another is the chirūnji.⁴ This tree grows on the hills. Its kernel is very pleasant. It is somewhat between the kernel of the walnut and that of the almond, and is rather smaller than that of the pistachio, and round. It is put into custards and sweetmeats.⁵

Another is the date,⁶ which, though not peculiar to Hindustān, yet is described here, as it is not found in our country. The date-tree is found likewise in Lamghān. Its branches all issue from one place, near the top of the tree. Its leaves extend from the one end of the branch to the other, shooting out on each side. The trunk of the tree is uneven and ill-coloured. Its fruit is like a bunch of grapes, but much larger They say that the date alone, of all the vegetable kingdom, resembles the animal kingdom in two respects: the one is, that when you cut off the head of an animal it perishes; and if you cut off the top of the date-tree, it withers and dies: the other is, that as no animal bears without concourse with the male, in like manner, if you do not bring a branch of the male date-tree, and shake it over^a the female, it bears no fruit. I cannot vouch for the truth of these remarks. The top of the date-tree which has been mentioned is called its cheese. The cheese of the date is that place where its branches and leaves shoot out, and it has very much the appearance of a white cheese. From this white cheesy substance the branches and leaves shoot out. When these branches and leaves have somewhat expanded, the leaves wax greener. This white substance, which they call the cheese of the date, is rather pleasant tasted. The pith^b bears some resemblance to the kernel of the walnut. They make an incision in that part of the tree where the cheese lies, and insert a date-leaf in the wound, in such a way, that whatever water flows from the opening, must run down this leaf; this leaf they fix to the mouth of an earthen pot, and tie the pot to the tree; all the liquid that flows from the wound is collected in this pot. If drunk immediately, the liquor is sweetish; if it stand three or four days, they say that it acquires an intoxicating quality. On one occasion, when I had gone out to survey Bāri,¹ while examining the districts on the banks of the river Chambal, in the course of our journey we chanced upon a valley, inhabited by people who employed themselves in drawing this liquor. We drank a great deal of it, and felt no symptoms of intoxication.² A great quantity of it must probably be taken, as its intoxicating powers are very small.

Another is the cocoanut-tree, or nārgīl, which the Arabs call nārjīl, and the Hindustānis³ nālīr by a vulgar error. The fruit of the cocoanut-tree is the Hindi nut, of which the black spoons are made. Of the larger sort they also make the sounding-cup of the ghichek (or guitar). The tree resembles the date, but the branch of the cocoa is much fuller of leaves, and the leaves are of a much brighter colour. As the walnut has a green outer skin, so has this; but the outer covering of the cocoanut is in threads,^a and the cordage of all the ships and boats of the rivers are made of this outer covering of the cocoanut, and the joinings of boats are sewn^b with threads made of the same stuff. When this skin is stripped off, three holes are seen, forming a triangle on one side of the nut, two of them closed and hard; the other is soft, and with little trouble is made into a hole. Before the kernel is formed within, the whole inside of the cocoanut is filled with water, which they drink by opening this hole; it has an agreeable taste. You would say that it was the cheese of the date melted.

Another is the tār, or palm-tree.¹ The branches of this tree also are on its top. They tie a pot on the palm as they do on the date-tree, and so extract and drink its juice. This juice they call tāri. It is more intoxicating than the liquid of the date-tree. There is no leaf on the branches of the palm for a gaz or^c a gaz and a half from its root.² After that, thirty or forty leaves sprout out from the same centre at the end of the branch, spreading like the fingers of the hand. These leaves may be about a gaz in length. Hindi letters are often written bookwise on these leaves. The natives of Hindustān, also, at the times when they do not wear ear-rings, put into the large open holes in their ears slips of the palm leaf,^d which are sold in the bazaar, ready made for the purpose. The trunk of this tree is handsomer than that of the date, and more stately.^e

They have, besides, the nāranj (or Seville orange), and the various fruits of the orange species.³ The orange grows in Lamghānāt, Bajour, and Sawād, where it is both plentiful and good. The orange of Lamghānāt is small, but juicy, and pleasant for quenching thirst. It is sweet-smelling, delicate, and fresh.^a It is not, however, to be compared with the oranges about Khorasān. Its delicacy is such, that in carrying from Lamghānāt to Kābul, which is only thirteen or fourteen farsangs, many of them are spoilt by the way. They carry the oranges of Asterābād to Samarkand, which is two hundred and seventy or two hundred and eighty farsangs¹ off; but as they have a thick peel and little juice, they are not apt to be much injured. The size of the oranges of Bajour may be about that of the quince.² They are very juicy, and their juice is more acid than that of other oranges. Khwājeh Kalān tells me that he made the oranges of a single tree of this species in Bajour be plucked off, and counted, and they amounted to seven thousand. It always struck me that the word nāranj (orange) was accented in the Arab fashion;^b and I found that it really was so: the men of Bajour and Sawād call nāranj, nārang.

Another is the lime,³ which is very plentiful. Its size is about that of a hen’s egg, which it resembles in shape. If one who is poisoned, boils and eats its fibres, the injury done by the poison is averted.⁴

Another fruit resembling the nāranj (or orange) is the turanj (or citron). The inhabitants of Bajour and Sawād call it baleng. On this account, marmalades of citron-peel are called baleng marmalade. The Hindustānis call the turanj, the bajouri. It is of two species. One is insipid and sweet, but of a sickly sweet, and is of no value for eating; but its peel is used for marmalade. The citrons of Lamghānāt are all of this sickly sweet. The other is the citron of Hindustān and Bajour, which is acid, and its sherbet is very pleasant and tasteful. The size of the citron may be about that of the Khosravi musk-melon. Its skin is rough, rising and falling in knobs.^a Its extremity is thin and knobbed.^b The citron is of a deeper yellow than the orange. Its tree has not a large trunk. It is small and shrubby, and has larger leaves than the orange.

The santereh (or orange) is another fruit resembling the nāranj (or Seville orange). In colour and appearance it is like the citron, but the skin of this fruit is smooth, and without any unevennesses. It is rather smaller than the small citron. Its tree is large, perhaps about the size of the small^c apricot-tree. Its leaf resembles the nāranj leaf. It has a pleasant acid, and its sherbet is extremely agreeable and wholesome. Like the lime it is a powerful stomachic, and it is not a weakening fruit like the citron.^d

Another fruit of the orange kind, is the larger lime, which, in Hindustān, they call the kilkil lime. In shape it is like a goose’s egg, but does not, like the egg, taper away at the two extremities. The skin of this species is smooth, like that of the santereh. It has a remarkable quantity of juice.

Another fruit resembling the orange is the jambīri. In shape it is like the orange, but is of a deeper^e yellow. It is not, however, an orange,^f though^g its smell is like that of the orange. This fruit, too, yields a pleasant acid.

Another of the orange kind is the sadaphal, which is shaped like a pear, and in colour resembles the quince. It has a sweet taste, but not so mawkish as the sweet orange.

The amratphal is another of the fruits resembling the orange.¹

Another of the orange kind is the kirneh, which may be about the size of the kilkil lime. This too is tart.

Another resembling the orange is the amil-bīd. I have seen it first during this present year.¹ They say that if a needle be thrust into the heart of it, it melts away.² Perhaps this may proceed from its extreme acidity, or from some other of its properties. Its acidity may be about equal to that of the orange and lime.³

In Hindustān there is great variety of flowers. One is the jāsūn,¹ which some Hindustānis call the gurhal. It is not a grass; the shrub on which it grows is tall; its bush is larger than the red-rose bush; its colour is deeper than that of the pomegranate. Its size may be about that of the red rose; but the red rose, after the bud is formed, opens all at once, whereas when the jāsūn opens from its bud, from the midst of the cup that first expands, a thing like a heart becomes visible, after which the other leaves of the flower spring out; though these two form a single flower, yet the thing like a heart in the midst of it, which springs from these leaves and forms another flower, has a very singular appearance.^a It looks very rich coloured and beautiful on the tree, but does not last long, as it withers in a single day, and disappears. It blows very charmingly for the four months of the rainy season. It continues to flower during the greater part of the year, but has no perfume.

Another is the kanīr,² which is sometimes white, and sometimes red; and is five-leaved, like the flower of the peach. The red kanīr resembles the peach flower, but fourteen or fifteen kanīr flowers blow from the same place, and from a distance they look like one large flower. The shrub of this flower is larger than the bush of the jāsūn.^b The smell of the red kanīr, though weak, is pleasant. This also blossoms incessantly, and in great beauty, during the whole three or four months of the rainy season; and is, besides, to be met with during the greater part of the year.

Another is keūreh,¹ which has a very sweet smell. The Arabs call it kāri.^a The fault of musk is, that it is rather drying.^b This may be called the moist musk. It has a singular appearance. Its flower may be about a span and a half or two spans in length. It has long leaves like the gherau.² This flower, too, is prickly, like the rose-bud, when unblown; its outer leaves are very green and prickly, while its inner leaves are white and soft. Among its inner leaves is something like a centre or heart.³ It^c has a sweet smell. It resembles a new-blown shrub, the trunk of which is not yet grown up, but its leaves are broader and more prickly. Its trunk is very ill proportioned. It springs in stalks from the ground.^d

Another is the white jasmine, which they call chambeli.⁴ It is larger than our jasmine, and its perfume stronger.

In other countries there are four seasons; in Hindustān there are three; four months of summer, four of the rainy season, and four of winter. Its months begin with the new moon. Every three years they add a month to the rainy season; again, at the end of the next three years they add a single month to one of their winters; and in the course of the succeeding three years they add one month to a summer. This is their mode of intercalation. Cheit,⁵ Beisākh, Jeth, and Asārh⁶ are the summer months, corresponding to Pisces, Aries, Taurus, and Gemini; Sāwan, Bhādun, Kuwār, and Kātik form the rainy months, corresponding to Cancer, Leo, Virgo, and Libra; Aghen, Pūs, Māgh, and Phāgun are the winter, and include Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricornus, and Aquarius. The natives of Hindustān, who have divided their seasons into terms of four months each, have confined the appellation of the violence of the season to two months of each term, and call them the period of summer, the period of the rains, the period of winter. The two last months of summer, which are Jeth and Asārh, they separate from the others, calling them the period of the heats. The two first months of the rainy season, Sāwan and Bhādun, they regard as the period of the rains; the two middle months of winter, which are Pūs and Māgh, they consider as the period of winter. By this arrangement they have six seasons.¹

They also assign names to the days of the week: Sanīcher is Saturday; Aitwār is Sunday; Somwār, Monday; Mangelwār, Tuesday; Budhwār, Wednesday; Brispatwār, Thursday; and Shukrwār, Friday.

As, by the usage of our country, the day and night are divided into twenty-four parts, each called an hour, and each hour into sixty minutes; so that the day and night are composed of one thousand four hundred and forty minutes; and as in the space of a minute, the fātiheh (or first chapter of the Korān), with the bismillah (or blessing), may be repeated six times, they may be repeated eight thousand six hundred and forty times in the space of a night and day. The natives of Hindustān divide the night and day into sixty parts, each of which they denominate a ghari; they likewise divide the night into four parts, and the day into the same number, each of which they call a pahar (or watch), which the Persians call a pās. In our country I had heard of pās and pāsbān,¹ though I did not understand the custom.^a In all the principal cities of Hindustān, there is a sort of people called ghariāli, who are appointed and stationed for this express purpose. They cast a broad brass plate about the size of a tray, and two fingers-breadth deep. This brass vessel they call ghariāl.² The ghariāl is suspended from a Their clep-
sydra. high place. They have another vessel like an hour-cup, which has a hole in its bottom. One of these is filled every hour³; and the ghariālis, who watch by turns, attend to the cup that is^b put into the water. In this way, beginning from daybreak, when they put in the cup, as soon as it is Mode of
marking
time. filled for the first time, they strike one stroke on the ghariāl with a wooden club which they have; and when it has been filled a second time, they strike two, and so on for the first watch. The signal that the first watch^c is past, is their striking very fast for a number of times on the ghariāl with the wooden club. If it is the first watch of the day, after striking repeatedly and fast, they stop a little, and strike one blow; if it be the second watch, after striking fast for some time, they deliberately strike two; and after the third they strike three, and after the fourth four. With the fourth watch the day closing, the night watch begins; and they go through the night watches in precisely the same Alteration
introduced
by Bābur. way. Formerly the ghariālis, whether by day or night, beat the sign of the watch at the end of each watch only; so that when a man waked from sleep, and heard the sound of three or four gharis, he did not know whether it was the second watch or the third. I directed, that after beating the sign of the ghari, whether by night or day,^d they should likewise beat the sign of the watch. For example, that after beating three gharis of the first watch,^e they should stop, and after an interval, beat one other blow as the mark of the watch, so that it might be known that it was three gharis of the first watch. After beating four gharis of the third watch of the night, if they stopped and beat three, it would indicate that it was four gharis of the third watch. This answers particularly well; for when a man wakes by night and hears the ghariāl, he knows with certainty how many gharis of a Division
of time. particular watch are past. Again, they divide every ghari into sixty parts, each called a pal; so that every day and night consists of three thousand six hundred pals. They reckon each pal equal to the time in which the eyelids may be shut and opened sixty times; and reckon a day and night equal to two hundred and sixteen thousand times of shutting and opening the eyes. By experiment, I found that one pal admitted of the kulhowullah and bismillah¹ being repeated nearly eight times, so that, in the space of a single night and day, they admit of being repeated twenty-eight thousand six hundred² times.

The inhabitants of Hindustān have a peculiar^a method of reckoning as to measures; they allow eight ratis to one māsheh; four māshehs to one tāng,^b or thirty-two ratis to one tāng; five māshehs to one mishkāl, which is equal to forty ratis; twelve māshehs make one tola or ninety-six ratis; fourteen tolas make one ser; and it is fixed that everywhere forty sers make one man, and twelve mans one māni,^c and one hundred mānis one mināseh. They reckon jewels^d and precious stones by the tāng.

The natives of Hindustān have a distinct and clear^e mode of reckoning. They call a hundred thousand a lak, a hundred laks a kror, a hundred krors an arb, a hundred arbs a kerb, a hundred kerbs a nīl, a hundred nīls a padam, a hundred padams a sang. The fixing such a high mode of calculation is a proof of the abundance of wealth in Hindustān.

Most of the natives of Hindustān are pagans. They call the pagan inhabitants of Hindustān, Hindus. Most of the Hindus hold the doctrine of transmigration. The officers of revenue, merchants^a and work-people, are all Hindus. In our native country, the tribes that inhabit the plains and deserts have all names, according to their respective families; but here everybody, whether they live in the country or in villages, have names according to their families.^b Again, every tradesman^c has received his trade from his forefathers,¹ who for generations have all practised the same trade.

Hindustān is a country that has few pleasures to recommend it.² The people are not handsome. They have no idea of the charms of friendly society, of frankly mixing together, or of familiar intercourse. They have no genius, no comprehension of mind, no politeness of manner, no kindness or fellow-feeling, no ingenuity or mechanical invention in planning or executing their handicraft works, no skill or knowledge in design or architecture^d; they have no horses, no good flesh, no grapes or musk-melons,³ no good fruits, no ice or cold water, no good food or bread in their bazars, no baths or colleges, no candles, no torches, not a candlestick. Instead of a candle and torch, you have a gang of dirty fellows, whom they call divatis,⁴ who hold in their left hand a kind of small tripod, to the side of one leg of which, it being wooden, they stick a piece of iron like the top of a candlestick; they fasten a pliant wick, of the size of the middle finger,^a by an iron pin, to another of the legs. In their right hand they hold a gourd, in which they have made a hole for the purpose of pouring out oil in a small stream, and whenever the wick requires oil, they supply it from this gourd. Their great men kept a hundred or two hundred of these divatis. This is the way in which they supply the want of candles and candlesticks. If their emperors or chief nobility, at any time, have occasion for a light by night, these filthy divatis bring in their lamp, which they carry up to their master, and there stand holding it close by his side.

Beside their rivers and standing waters, they have some running water in their ravines and hollows; they have no aqueducts or canals in their gardens or palaces.^b In their buildings they study neither elegance nor climate,^c appearance nor regularity. Their peasants and the lower classes all go about naked. They tie on a thing which they call a langoti, which is a piece of clout that hangs down two spans from the navel, as a cover to their nakedness. Below this pendent modesty-clout is another slip of cloth, one end of which they fasten before to a string that ties on the langoti, and then passing the slip of cloth between the two legs, bring it up and fix it to the string of the langoti behind. The women, too, have a lang—one end of it they tie about their waist, and the other they throw over their head.

The chief excellency of Hindustān is, that it is a large country, and has abundance of gold and silver. The Pleasant
climate. climate during the rains is very pleasant. On some days it rains ten, fifteen, and even twenty times. During the rainy season inundations come pouring down all at once, and form rivers, even in places where, at other times, there is no water. While the rains continue on the ground,^d the air is singularly delightful, insomuch that nothing can surpass its soft and agreeable temperature. Its defect is, that the air is rather moist and damp. During the rainy season you cannot shoot even with the bow of our country, and it becomes quite useless. Nor is it the bow alone that becomes useless; the coats of mail, books, clothes, and furniture, all feel the bad effects of the moisture. Their houses, too, suffer from not being substantially built.^a There is pleasant enough weather in the winter and summer, as well as in the rainy season; but then the north wind always blows, and there is an excessive quantity of earth and dust flying about. When the rains are at hand, this wind blows five or six times with excessive violence,^b and such a quantity of dust flies about that you cannot see one another. They call this an āndhī.¹ It gets warm during Taurus and Gemini, but not so warm as to become intolerable. The heat cannot be compared to the heats of Balkh and Kandahār. It is not above half so warm as in these places.^c Abundance
of work-
people. Another convenience of Hindustān is, that the workmen of every profession and trade are innumerable and without end. For any work, or any employment, there is always a set ready, to whom the same employment and trade have descended from father to son for ages. In the Zafer-nāmeh of Mulla Sherīf-ed-dīn Ali Yezdi, it is mentioned as a surprising fact, that when Taimūr Beg was building the Sangīn (or stone) mosque, there were stone-cutters of Azarbaijan, Fārs, Hindustān, and other countries, to the number of two hundred, working every day on the mosque. In Agra alone, and of stone-cutters belonging to that place only, I every day employed on my palaces six hundred and eighty persons; and in Agra, Sīkri, Biāna, Dhūlpūr, Gwāliār, and Koel,² there were every day employed on my works one thousand four hundred and ninety-one stone-cutters. In the same way, men of every trade and occupation are numberless and without stint in Hindustān.

The countries from Behreh to Behār,¹ which are now under my dominion, yield a revenue of fifty-two krors,² as will appear from the particular and detailed statement.³ Of this amount, pergannas to the value of eight or nine krors⁴ are in the possession of some Rais and Rajas, who from old times have been submissive, and have received these pergannas for the purpose of confirming them in their obedience.^a

I have thus described the particulars regarding the country of Hindustān, its situation, its territory, and inhabitants, that have come to my knowledge, and that I have been able to verify. Hereafter, if I observe anything worthy of being described, I shall take notice of it; and if I hear anything worth repeating, I will insert it.

On Saturday, the 29th of Rajeb,¹ I began to examine and to distribute the treasure. I gave Humāiūn seventy laks from the treasury, and, over and above this treasure, a palace,^a of which no account or inventory had been taken. To some Amīrs I gave ten laks, to others eight laks, seven laks, and six laks. On the Afghans, Hazāras, Arabs, Balūches, and others that were in the army, I bestowed gratuities from the treasury, suited to their rank and circumstances. Every merchant, every man of letters, in a word, every person who had come in the army along with me, carried off presents and gratuities, which marked their great good fortune and superior luck.^a Many who were not in the army also received ample presents from these treasures; as, for instance, Kamrān received seventeen laks, Muhammed Zemān Mirza fifteen laks, Askeri Mirza¹ and Hindāl, in a word, all my relations and friends, great and small, had presents sent them in silver and gold, in cloth, and jewels, and captive slaves. Many presents were also sent for the Begs in our old territories, and their soldiers. I sent presents for my relations and friends^b to Samarkand, Khorasān, Kāshghar, and Irāk. Offerings were sent to the Sheikhs (or holy men) in Khorasān and Samarkand, as likewise to Mekka and Medīna. To the country of Kābul, as an incentive to emulation,^c to every soul, man or woman, slave or free, of age or not, I sent one shahrokhi² as a gift.³

When I first arrived in Agra, there was a strong mutual dislike and hostility between my people and the men of the place. The peasantry and soldiers of the country avoided The inha-
bitants dis-
affected to
Bābur. and fled from my men. Afterwards, everywhere, except only in Delhi and Agra, the inhabitants fortified different posts,^d while the governors of towns put their fortifications in a posture of defence,^a and refused to submit or obey. Kāsim Sambali was in Sambal, Nizām Khan in Biāna, the Raja Hassan Khan Mewāti himself in Mewāt. That infidel Their
different
chiefs. was the prime mover and agitator in all these confusions and insurrections. Muhammed Zeitūn was in Dhūlpūr, Tātār Khan Sarang-khani in Gwāliār, Hussain Khan Lohāni in Rāberi, Kutb Khan in Etāwa, and in Kālpi Ali Khan.^b Kanauj, with the whole country beyond the Ganges, was entirely in the possession of the refractory Afghans, such as Nasīr Khan Lohāni, Maarūf Fermūli, and a number of other Amīrs, who had been in a state of open rebellion for two^c years before the death of Ibrahīm. At the period when I defeated that prince, they had overrun, and were in possession of Kanauj and the countries in that quarter,^d and had advanced and encamped two or three marches on this side of Kanauj. They elected Behār Khan, the son of Darya Khan, as their king, and gave him the name of Sultan Muhammed. Marghūb, a slave, was in Mahāban.¹ This confederation, though approaching, yet did not come near for some time.^e When I came to Agra, it was the hot season. All the inhabitants fled from terror, so that we could not find grain nor provender, either for ourselves or our horses. The villages, out of hostility and hatred to us, had taken to rebellion, thieving, and robbery. The roads became impassable. I had not had time,^f after the division of the treasure, to send proper persons to occupy and protect the different pergannas and stations. It happened too that the heats were this year uncommonly oppressive. Many men about the same time dropped down, as if they had been affected by^g the samūm wind,² and died on the spot.

On these accounts, not a few of my Begs and best men began to lose heart, objected to remaining in Hindustān, and even began to make preparations for their return. If the older Begs, who were men of experience, had made these representations, there would have been no harm in it; for, if such men had communicated their sentiments to me, I might have got credit for possessing at least so much sense and judgment as, after hearing what they had to urge, to be qualified to decide on the expediency or inexpediency of their opinions; to distinguish the good from the evil. But what sense or propriety was there in eternally repeating the same tale in different words, to one who himself saw the facts with his own eyes, and had formed a cool and fixed resolution in regard to the business in which he was engaged? What propriety was there in the whole army, down to the very dregs, giving their stupid and unformed opinions? It is singular, that, when I set out from Kābul this last time, I had raised many of low rank to the dignity of Beg, in the expectation, that if I had chosen to go through fire and water, they would have followed me back and forward without hesitation; and that they would have accompanied me cheerfully, march where I would. It never surely entered my imagination that they were to be the persons who were to arraign my measures, nor that, before rising from the council, they should show a determined opposition to every plan and opinion which I proposed and supported in the council and assembly. Though they behaved ill, yet Ahmedi Perwānchi and Wali Khāzin behaved still worse. From the time we left Kābul, till we had defeated Ibrahīm and taken Agra, Khwājeh Kalān had behaved admirably, and had always spoken gallantly, giving such opinions as befitted a brave man; but a few days after the taking of Agra, all his opinions underwent a complete change. Khwājeh Kalān was now, of all others, the most determined on turning back.

I no sooner heard this murmuring among my troops than I summoned all my Begs to a council. I told them that empire and conquest could not be acquired without the materials and means of war: that royalty and nobility could not exist without subjects and dependent provinces: that, by the labours of many years, after undergoing great hardships, measuring many a toilsome journey, and raising various armies^a; after exposing myself and my troops to circumstances of great danger, to battle and bloodshed, by the divine favour, I had routed my formidable enemy, and achieved the conquest of the numerous provinces and kingdoms which we at present held: ‘And now, what force compels, and what hardship obliges us, without any visible cause, after having worn out our life in accomplishing the desired achievement, to abandon and fly from our conquests, and to retreat back to Kābul with every symptom of disappointment and discomfiture^b? Let not any one who calls himself my friend ever henceforward make such a proposal. But if there is any among you who cannot bring himself to stay, or to give up his purpose of returning back, let him depart.’ Having made them this fair and reasonable proposal, the discontented were of necessity compelled, however unwillingly, to renounce their seditious purposes. Khwājeh Kalān not being disposed to remain, it was arranged, that as he had a numerous retinue, he should return back to guard the presents; I had but few troops in Kābul and Ghazni, and he was directed to see that these places were all kept in proper order, and amply supplied with the necessary stores. I bestowed on him Ghazni, Gerdēz, and the Sultan Masaūdi Hazāras; I also gave him the perganna of Kehrām¹ in Hindustān, yielding a revenue of three or four laks.² Khwājeh Mīr Mirān was likewise directed to proceed to Kābul. The presents were entrusted to his charge, and put into the immediate custody of Mulla Khwājeh
Kalān’s
verses. Hassan Sarāf³ and Nouker Hindū. Khwājeh Kalān, who was heartily tired of Hindustān, at the time of going, wrote the following verses on the walls of some houses^a in Delhi:

When I still continued in Hindustān, there was an evident impropriety in his composing and publishing such vituperative^b verses. If I had previously cause to be offended at his leaving me, this conduct^c of his doubled the offence. I composed a few extempore lines, which I wrote down and sent him.

At this period I sent to Koel, Mulla Apāk, who had formerly been in a very low station, but who, two or three years before, having gathered together his brethren and a considerable body of other followers, had received the command of the Urukzais¹ and of several Afghan tribes on the banks of the Sind. I sent by him firmāns containing assurances of safety and protection, to the bowmen and Bābur
joined by
some Doāb
men. soldiers about Koel. Sheikh Gūren, availing himself of these assurances, came voluntarily and entered into my service.^d He brought with him two or three thousand bowmen from the Doāb, who all joined my army.

The sons and clansmen^e of Ālim Khan Fermūli fell in with Yunis Ali, between Delhi and Agra, at a time when he had mistaken the road and separated from Humāiūn; but, after a short engagement, were defeated, and the sons of Ālim Khan made prisoners, and brought to the camp. At this juncture,^f I dispatched Mirza Moghul, the son of Doulet Kadem the Turk, accompanied by one of the sons of Ālim Khan, who had been taken prisoner, with firmāns containing assurances of protection and honour, to Ālim Khan, who, during these commotions, had gone to Mewāt. That nobleman returned back in his company. I received Ālim Khan with distinction and kindness, and bestowed on him^a one of the most desirable pergannas, worth twenty-five laks.¹

Sultan Ibrahīm had sent Mustafa Fermūli and Firūz Khan Sārangkhāni, with several other Amīrs, against the rebellious lords of the Pūrab (East). Mustafa had some well-fought and desperate actions with the rebels, and had given them several severe defeats. He had died, however, before the defeat of Ibrahīm, and Sheikh Bayezīd, his younger brother, had assumed the command in his room, while Ibrahīm was yet on the throne.^b Firūz Khan, Sheikh Bayezīd, Mahmūd Khan Lohāni, and Kazi Jia, now entered my service. I bestowed on them honours and rewards beyond their expectations. To Firūz Khan I gave a grant of upwards of a kror out of Jaunpūr; on Sheikh Bayezīd one of a kror from Oudh; on Mahmūd Khan, nine laks and thirty-five thousand dāms Bābur
distributes
rewards to
his officers. out of Ghāzipūr,^c and on Kazi Jia twenty laks² from Jaunpūr.

A few days after the Īd,³ or festival of Shawāl, we had a great feast in the grand hall, which is adorned with the peristyle of stone pillars, under the dome in the centre of Sultan Ibrahīm’s private palace.⁴ On that occasion I presented Humāiūn with a chārkob,⁵ a sword with the belt, and a Tipchāk horse with a gold saddle. To Chīn Taimūr Sultan, to Mehdi Khwājeh, and Muhammed Sultan Mirza, I gave a charkob, a sword with the belt, and a dagger.^a To the other Begs and officers I gave, according to their circumstances, a sword with a belt, a dagger, and dresses of honour; so that on the whole there were given one Tipchāk horse with the saddle, two pairs of swords^b with the belts, twenty-five sets of enamelled^c daggers, sixteen enamelled^c kitārehs, two daggers¹ (jamdher) set with precious stones,^d four pair^e of chārkobs, and twenty-eight vests of purple.^f On the day of the feast there was a great deal of rain; it rained thirteen times. Many of those who were seated on the outside were completely drenched.

I had at first bestowed the country of Samāneh on Muhammedi Expedition
against
Sambal; Gokultāsh, and sent him on a plundering expedition into Sambal.² I had bestowed Hissār-Firozeh on Humāiūn by way of gift, and now gave him Sambal likewise. As I had placed Hindū Beg in Humāiūn’s service, I, therefore, in the room of Muhammedi, sent Hindū Beg, accompanied by Kitteh Beg, Malik Kāsim, and Bāba Kashkeh, with their brothers and relations,^{g 3} Mulla Apāk, Sheikh Gūren, and the bowmen from the Doāb, with orders to proceed on duty to Sambal. Intimations^h had come three or four times from Kāsim Sambali, that the traitor Bīban had laid siege to Sambal, and reduced him to the last extremity, so that it was desirable that they should advance by forced marches. Bīban,⁴ with the same force and array with which he had fled from us, had occupied the skirts of the hills, collected the fugitive and discomfited Afghans,ⁱ and, finding the place ill garrisoned, during these troubles, had gone and laid siege to Sambal. Hindū Beg, Kiteh Beg, and the whole detachment that had been dispatched to the relief of the place, on reaching the Ahār-ford,¹ while busy in passing the river, sent on Malik Kāsim, and Bāba Kashkeh with his brothers, in advance. As soon as Malik Kāsim had crossed the river, he pushed on with great expedition, accompanied by a hundred or a hundred and fifty of his brethren,² and reached Sambal about the time of noon-day prayers. Bīban, on his side, drew out his men from his camp, and ranged them in order of battle. Malik Kāsim and his party having advanced rapidly, and got the fort in their rear, began to engage him. Bīban, unable to keep his ground, took to flight. They killed a number of his men, whose heads they cut off, and took several elephants and a number of horses.^a Next morning, the Begs who had been sent to relieve the place arrived. Kāsim Sambali came out and had an interview with them, but made some difficulties as to giving up which is
taken. the fort, always contriving evasions. One day, Sheikh Gūren having concerted measures with Hindū Beg and the rest of the generals,^b brought Kāsim Sambali before them by stratagem, and introduced my men into the fort of Sambal. The family and dependants of Kāsim Sambali were suffered to leave the place in safety, and were conducted to Biāna.^c

Kalender Piādeh was now sent to Nizām Khan^d with letters, in which threats were mingled with promises. I wrote extempore, and sent the following fragment:

Contend not with Tūrks, O Mīr of Biāna!³ The speed and bravery of Tūrks are surpassing.
Now is the time to present yourself, and to lend an ear to counsel.
What is the use of telling a man of what is before his eyes?

The fort of Biāna is one of the most famous in Hindustān; and the foolish man, confiding too much in its strength, had cherished expectations, and instructed his envoy to make demands, far beyond what he was able to command. I returned him a sharp answer^a by the man whom he sent to treat, and made every exertion to collect whatever was necessary for the siege.

I sent Baba Kuli Beg to Muhammed Zeitūn¹ with letters, in which menaces were mixed with conciliation. He likewise made excuses to waste the time, and practised a variety of artifices.

Although Rāna Sanka,² the Pagan, when I was in Kābul, had sent me an ambassador with professions of attachment, and had arranged with me, that, if I would march from that quarter into the vicinity of Delhi, he would march from the other side upon Agra; yet, when I defeated Ibrahīm, and took Delhi and Agra, the Pagan, during all my operations, did not make a single movement. After some time, he advanced and laid siege to Kandār,³ the name of a fort which was held by Hassan, the son of Makan. Hassan Makan had several times sent me envoys, though Makan himself had not waited on me with his submissions. The forts around, such as Etāwa, Dhūlpūr, Gwāliār, and Biāna,⁴ were not yet in my possession. The Afghans to the eastward were in a state of rebellion and contumacy; they had even advanced two or three marches from Kanauj towards Agra, and had then encamped and fortified their position.^b I was by no means secure of the fidelity of the country immediately about us. It was impossible for me, therefore, to send any detachment to his relief; and Hassan, in the course of two or three months, having been reduced to extremity, entered into a capitulation, and surrendered the fort of Kandār.

Hussain Khan, who was in possession of Rāberi,¹ being seized with a panic, abandoned the place, and made his escape. I bestowed it upon Muhammed Ali Jeng-Jeng.

I had several times summoned Kutb Khan, who was in Etāwa
given to
Mahdi
Khwājeh. Etāwa, to come out and wait upon me;^a but he neither waited upon me nor surrendered the fort. I now bestowed the fort of Etāwa on Mahdi Khwājeh, and sent along with him Muhammed Sultan Mirza, Sultan Muhammed Duldāi, Muhammed Ali Jeng-Jeng, Abdal-azīz, the master of horse, with some other Begs, several of my inferior Begs and adherents, and a number of other troops,^b to occupy the place. I had lately bestowed Kanauj² on Sultan Muhammed Duldāi; but, in the meanwhile, I ordered him also to march against Etāwa, accompanied by Firōz Khan, Mahmūd Khan, Sheikh Bayezīd, Kazi Jia, and the Begs of their party, to whom I had shown great favour, and given pergannas on the side of Pūrab.

Muhammed Zeitūn continued in Dhūlpūr, and, under various false pretences, would neither leave the place nor make his submission. I bestowed Dhūlpūr³ on Sultan Juneid Birlās, and appointed Ādil Sultan, Muhammedi Gokultāsh, Shah Mansūr Birlās, Kūtluk Kadem, Wali Jān Beg, Abdallah, Pir Kuli, and Shah Hussain Bārgi, to proceed against that place, giving them instructions to assault and take it by storm, and to deliver it into the custody of Sultan Juneid Birlās; after which they were to march against Biāna.

Having appointed these armies to proceed in execution of their various objects, I sent for the Tūrki nobles and those of Hind, and held a consultation. I stated to them that the rebellious lords in the east, Nāsir Khan Lohāni, Maarūf Fermūli, and their adherents, had passed the Ganges, to the number of forty or fifty thousand men, had occupied Kanauj, and advanced and encamped two or three marches on this side of it; that the Pagan Rāna Sanka had taken Kandār, and was in a state of open disobedience and revolt; that the rainy season was now nearly over; that it seemed expedient and necessary to march against either the rebels or the pagans; that it would be an easy matter to reduce the neighbouring forts after getting rid of these formidable enemies; that then they would cost no trouble; that Rāna Sanka was not, upon the whole, a very formidable enemy. Resolution
to march
against the
Afghans in
the east.
The com-
mand given
to Hu-
māiūn, All unanimously answered, that Rāna Sanka was not only far off, but that it was not even plain that it was in his power to come near us; that the rebel chiefs had advanced closer up to us; that to repulse them should be our first object; and they therefore begged to be led against that enemy. Humāiūn represented that it was quite unnecessary for the Emperor to accompany the expedition, and asked to be permitted to undertake the service. All having agreed in this plan, and the Tūrki Begs, as well as those of Hind, being pleased with the arrangement, it was settled that Humāiūn should march towards the east, with the armies that had been appointed to proceed against Dhūlpūr^a; and Kābuli Ahmed Kāsim was in consequence dispatched with all speed, to make these armies change the course of their march, so as to meet Humāiūn in Chāndwār.^{b 1} Mahdi Khwājeh, Muhammed Sultan Mirza, and the armies that had been sent against Etāwa, were likewise ordered to march and form a junction with Humāiūn.

On Thursday, the 13th of Zilkaadeh, Humāiūn marched to the village of Jilīsir,² sixteen kos^c from Agra, where he encamped. Having halted there one day he proceeded Aug. 28. march after march towards the enemy. On Thursday, the 20th of the same month, Khwajeh Kalān took leave on setting out for Kābul.

It always appears to me that one of the chief defects of Hindustān is the want of artificial water-courses. I had intended, wherever I might fix my residence, to construct water-wheels, to produce an artificial stream, and to lay out an elegant and regularly planned pleasure-ground.¹ Shortly after coming to Agra, I passed the Jumna with this object in view, and examined the country, to pitch upon a fit spot for a garden. The whole was so ugly and detestable, that I repassed the river quite repulsed and disgusted. In consequence of the want of beauty, and of the disagreeable aspect of the country, I gave up my intention of making a chārbāgh; but as no better situation presented itself near Agra, I was finally compelled to make the best of this same spot. I first of all began to sink the large well which supplies the baths with water; I next fell to work on that piece of ground on which are the ambli (or Indian tamarind) trees, and the octangular tank; I then proceeded to form the large tank and its enclosure; and afterwards the tank and and a
palace. tālār² (or grand hall of audience) that are in front of the stone palace. I next finished the garden of the private apartments, and the apartments themselves, after which I completed the baths. In this way, going on, without neatness and without order, in the Hindu fashion, I, however, produced edifices and gardens which possessed considerable regularity.^{a 3} In every corner I planted suitable gardens; in every garden I sowed roses and narcissuses regularly, and in beds corresponding to each other.^a We were annoyed with three things in Hindustān: one was its heat, another its strong winds, the third its dust. Baths were the means of removing all three inconveniences. In the bath we could not be affected by the winds.^b During the hot winds,^c the cold can there be rendered so intense, that a person often feels as if quite powerless^d from it. The room of the bath, in which is the tub or cistern, is finished wholly of stone. The water-run is of white stone; all the rest of it, its floor and roof, is of a red stone, which is the stone of Biāna. Khalīfeh, Sheikh Zein, Yunis Ali, and several others, who procured situations on the banks of the river, made regular and elegant gardens and tanks, and constructed wheels after the fashion of Lahore and Debālpūr, by means of which they procured a supply of water. The men of Hind, who had never before seen places formed on such a plan, or laid out with so much elegance, gave the name of Kābul to the side of the Jumna on which these palaces were built.

There was an empty space within the fort (of Agra), between Ibrahīm’s palace¹ and the ramparts. I directed a large waīn to be constructed on it, ten gaz by ten.² In the language of Hindustān they denominate a large well, having a staircase down it, waīn. This waīn was begun before the chārbāgh was laid out; they were busy digging it during the rains, but it fell in several times, and smothered the workmen. After my holy war against Rāna Sanka, as is mentioned in the Memoirs,^a I gave orders for finishing it, and a very excellent waīn was completed. In the inside of the waīn there was constructed an edifice of three different stories. The lowest story has three open halls, and you descend to it by the well; the descent is by means of a flight of steps, and there is a passage leading to each of the three different halls.^b Each hall is higher than the other by three steps. In the lowest hall of all, at the season when the waters subside, there is a flight of steps that descends into the well.^c In the rainy season, when the water is high, the water comes up into the uppermost of these halls. In the middle story there is a hall of carved stone, and close by it a dome, in which the oxen that turn the water-wheel move round. The uppermost story consists of a single hall. From the extremity of the area that is at the top of the well, at the bottom of a flight of five or six steps, a staircase goes off from each side to this hall, and proceeds down to its right side.^d Straight opposite to the entrance is a stone, containing the date of the building. By the side of this well a shaft or pit has been dug, in such a way that the bottom of it is a little higher than the middle of the well.^e The cattle, moving in the dome that has been mentioned, turn a water-wheel, by which the water is raised from the one well into the other well or shaft. On this last-mentioned shaft they have erected another wheel, by which the water is raised to a level with the ramparts,^f and flows into the upper gardens. At the place where the staircase issues from the well they